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emsvegetables · 4 years ago

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27th: you come across something at terushima’s house.

- you’re here to study and chill with him but you spot a little...something on his study table.

no. of words: 1.2k++

okay. i’ve never written much for terushima but i LOVE terushima so much i think he’s actually got much more than meets the eye!!! i hope this made sense and i hope that it’s okay pls forgive me if it isn’t!!!!!!!!!!!! well. this is the last one!!!! yay!

“i swear, your room only gets messier every single time i visit your house,” you wrinkle your nose in distaste when you enter terushima’s room, and you laugh when you spot something on his bed, “is that a hello kitty soft toy?”

terushima laughs from beside you, and shrugs nonchalantly, ��my sister gave it to me, so i might as well keep it.”

“cute,” you smile, and nearly slap yourself when the word comes out of your mouth. maybe you were a bit too obvious in your feelings for him.

“thanks, i know,” terushima grins, before picking up some clothes strewn over his bed and throwing them into the laundry basket, and pulling a pillow and patting the bed, “you can sit here.”

“very comfortable,” you comment when you lower yourself onto the bed, and terushima grins at you, “you’re very welcome, only the best for my queen.”

“that’s gross,” you grimace, “and i’m not your queen.”

“of course, ma’am!” he laughs, saluting to you, “ you can scroll through netflix and choose whatever you want to watch. i’m going to get a drink. you want the one that you always get from the vending machine?”

you nod, smiling at him, “yeah, thank you.”

“no problem,” he winks at you, and even though your heart beats a little too fast at that, you stick out your tongue at him and pretend to vomit.

you settle on a studio ghibli movie, and set it to play as you look around the room.

the room was really like terushima.

random posters were pasted everywhere, clothes were strewn on one side of the room, his study table was messy as hell, and no one would’ve guessed that he was one of the top students in the school, but you know that all the assessment books stacked up on the table amount to it.

“i’m back! oh, we’re watching this? cool,” terushima grins at you and passes you the drink, before settling down beside you and resting his head comfortably on your shoulders.

you try to ignore the way your cheeks burn when he does that.

“i need to go to the toilet,” terushima announces, standing up to stretch after a while, “i need to shit.”

you scrunch your nose, “gross.”

terushima grins, and flicks your forehead lightly, “be right back!”

you pause the movie when he leaves, and stand up to stretch as well.

when you eye his study table, you wrinkle your nose again.

“i’m packing your study table!” you yell, and you hear terushima muffled “ok!”, and you smile.

you laugh when you see the doodles of the volleyball team on his math textbook, and you snort when you see how he drew your chemistry teacher on a random post-it pad. you’re almost done sorting out the books when something falls out of the biology journal.

you blink when you read what it says.

steps to get (Y/N) to like me / date me:

win her heart with my jokes (search for funny jokes online)

pickup lines? nevermind they don’t actually work i tried it once and (Y/N) laughed at me. it was a pity laugh. not funny. never trying that again.

help her carry things! (okay she smacked me for helping her carry her clipboard but thanked me and smiled at me for helping her carry the waterbottles. so there are certain things i can carry and certain things i cannot.)

tell her she’s beautiful! (she really is!!!! her smile is the prettiest i’ve ever seen and her laugh is the cutest and she’s just so nice to everyone fuck i like her so much)

ask her out? then admit my feelings to her? (i asked her out for lunch and she said sure!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but i chickened out and i didn’t confess in the end. i’m such a loser fml)

FIND A WAY TO GET OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE!!! (search how to get out of the friendzone online)

just tell (Y/N) i like her alot, that i’ve liked her for a very long time. she’s just so nice and pretty and i think i love her. (and then she’ll slap me and reject me and hate me for life.)

think of more ideas!!!!!!!!

“hey! i’m back--”

you turn to look at terushima, who falls silent when he sees the note in your hands.

“fuck,” he swears, “okay, you weren’t supposed to see that. can we pretend you didn’t see that? but that probably made you uncomfortable. did that make you uncomfortable? do you hate me? it’s okay if you want to slap me. it’s really okay. do you hate me now? i understand if you hate me, it’s okay if you don’t want to speak to me ever again--”

“terushima,” you say, and he quietens instantly, “sorry, (Y/N).”

“is this true?” you bring up the note in your hands and wave it, and he winces and nods.

“you like me? why?” you ask, and you’re so confused, and terushima instantly straightens up and stares at you.

“what do you mean why?” he asks, sounding offended, “why would i not like you?”

“because i’m...this,” you gesture to yourself, and terushima narrows his eyes.

“what do you mean? (Y/N) you’re literally the sweetest person i know. you always offer to help other people even when you have things to do. you always check on everyone in the team to make sure they’re okay after practice. you always try your best to be nice to other people even when they talk shit about you. you’re literally so sweet, and you’re so pretty, and you’re this amazing person. what do you mean this? why would anyone not like you?” terushima says, and he frowns at you.

“oh,” you say, and terushima turns away from you and exhales out a deep breath.

“it’s okay if you don’t like me back, (Y/N), i just hope i didn’t destroy our friendship,” he finally says after a short pause, and you blink.

“no!” you exclaim, and terushima looks up, “no, yuuji—i like you too.”

terushima lets out a noise of surprise, “are you serious?”

“yeah,” you say, and a smile breaks out on his face immediately, and he runs forward to pull you into a hug.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, and you laugh, “why are you even asking? just do it.”

“i’m just making sure,” he says, and you laugh again, before leaning in to meet his lips.

“by the way, yuuji?” you say, while his head is resting on your shoulders and your fingers are laced with his.

“hmm?”

“i’m keeping the note.”

“why?” he looks at you, affronted, “is that for future blackmail purposes?”

you laugh, “that, and it’s cute.”

terushima pouts, “i don’t like you anymore.”

“you’re lying.”

“i’m lying,” he agrees, and grins at you as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

back to my fluffvember masterlist!

general taglist :)

send an ask to be added in :D

@mrs-kuroojinguji @galacticstxrdust @h0rny-m3ss @strawberriimilkshake @lexysclubhouse @alluringeternity @newfriendjen @aam1na @simpinghrs @boosyboo9206 @earl-mint-tea @sachirou-senpai @kuboyasuuu @cotton-hashira @kellesvt @mochipk @ohbois-biggay-bnha @deadontheinsidebut @atsumubabe @wisepandaslimeland @doodleniella @tttournesolll @millie-mint @the-moons-raes @chaosamu @flairlust @l3v1achan @bellesowl @wheeshllumi @karasimpno @sodasketches @dai-tsukki-desu @isentsworld @lavearchives

fluffvember taglist:

send an ask if you only want to be added to this instead of the general taglist!

@omigogames @unicorngluttony @thesecondapplepienation @tsukisemi @tamaguchi @omibaby @psycopath-satan @shibayamasbae @churochuu @crazyrichashea @let-me-have-my-own-name @fo-love @heykoutarou @lovelyrynn @neomuxuxi @haikyuuhopes @bluntkingkuroo @abswrites @ne-kuroo @yadane-bakabaka @song-of-storms162 @lady-snavely @hawksnumberoneuwu @rkives-keiji @llamakenma @mrslordexplosionmurder

i’ll tag those that i couldn’t tag later! this is a scheduled post.

#terushima x reader #terushima yuuji x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

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supercorpkid · 4 years ago

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There’s a first time for everything.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2890.

“How exactly did this happen?” Jamie looks at the F in your test and you roll your eyes to the sight of it. This is bad. This is really bad.

“I didn’t have time to study. But it’s ok, I’ll study for the next one.” You say, agreeing with your head to make Jamie and Maya’s worried expression ease up a little.

“Babe, you should’ve told me you needed to study. We could have had a study session or something.” They’re still worried. You look at Jamie raising one eyebrow, so she knows there’s more to the story. It takes her a few seconds, but she seems to finally realize your life is more complicated than stupid French tests.

“Oh, it’s a one-time thing.” Jamie says dismissing it with her hand. “It’s good, now you know what the rest of us feel when we don’t go so well.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” You joke with a smile, and that seems to be what’s necessary to make Maya less worried.

“We’ll study together for the next one.” She says and you agree.

It’s just when her mom picks her up from school, that you can tell Jamie what was really going on with you.

“Ok, so what really happened?” Jamie asks and you breathe deep before starting.

“Ok, it all started the night before when Kara put her head inside my bedroom to ask me:

“Hey kid. What are you up to?”

I looked up from the books I was organizing on my table to start studying. And since I thought it was something fast, I answered. “Nothing.” While obviously ignoring the books in front of me.

Then she went on like “Well. There is a big commotion downtown, a bunch of aliens got together to destroy some things and the whole place is a mess.” And I just shook my head agreeing because I thought she just went to tell me why she was leaving. But, like, she kept going and she asked me: “Do you want to come with me? I figured we could use some help.”

I was beaming in excitement ‘cause you know it’s kind of hard for Kara to just admit she needs help, so I thought there was probably a hell of a mess there. Which means she really did need my help, right? So, I was like “Wait! Really?”

She smiled too. “Sure! Go put on your-” But I used my super speed to change and I was in front of her all suited up in a blink of an eye. “Suit.”

“Let’s do it!” I ran out of the bedroom feeling like I could fly away just by being invited to it. You know it’s all I ever wanted. Kara seeing me as a person who could back her up during trial times. I was almost out of the house when I heard Lena’s voice from the living room and I came back to kiss her goodnight. So, she was like:

“Where are you guys heading to?”

And Kara said, check this out:

“I need back-up for this fight.”

I mean, she literally said the words I was so eager to hear and my smile just grew wider.

“I’m back-up!” I said, beaming in excitement.

But, well, you know my mom. She immediately went like:

“It’s school night.” She looked at momma. “She needs a good night of sleep.” Like I wasn’t even there to speak for myself! But lucky for me Kara said:

“Don’t worry, love. She’ll help me stop the aliens and bring them to the DEO, and I’ll do the clean up part.” Kara assured mom, who let out a sigh, like she does whenever she knows she is defeated.

“Are you sure you want to go?” She asked, putting her hand on my shoulder. And honestly, I don’t know what she was expecting. Did she think I was going to say no? Anyways, I obviously answered:

“Oh my God, yes! Don’t worry mom, I can handle it.”

Then she was like: “Ok, then. Don’t take too long.” She kissed my cheek, and then Kara’s mouth. “Be careful. Both of you.”

Then I looked at momma, still smiling, and she smiled back super excited. I just couldn’t believe I was going out to have adventures with Supergirl! I always thought I would have to sneak out with Superboy to have them, but then like, momma invited me to it!

So anyways, I tagged along to fight some hellgrammites that were causing trouble downtown. And like, dude, Aunt Alex gave me an earpiece for communication and Rao it felt so good to be a part of the team!

And she would talk to me through it. Jamie, I swear it’s as fun as you can think. So, aunt Alex was like:

“Superkid, be careful with the spikes. They’re strong enough to penetrate metal, it could harm you.”

And Kara was like:

“They also possess superhuman strength.”

And I was like:

“Okay, guys. I know hellgrammites, just chill.”

But like, aunt Alex went on:

“If you can’t win, try using their own spike against them as a last resource, Superkid.” And I was like ‘ok’, And then I hit one so hard he was thrown to a post light, and it bent, and made the light flicker. It was so funny, but I obviously couldn’t say that, so instead I said:

“Sorry. I’ll fix that!” And I flew to him, looking at the spike on his hand. Then I made my voice sound stronger and said: “You can come willingly or I can make you.”

“Pff.” It was his answer. What a dumbass, right? So, I had to keep using my strong voice.

“Got it. I’ll make you.” And then I punched his face a few times until he was unable to recover, and put him in cuffs. And I was so happy I yelled: “Got one!”

I looked at Supergirl, who had already caught the other three. She gave me thumbs up and a smile. Well. At least I kinda helped, right?

“Bring him to containment at the DEO.” I heard Alex’s voice through the comm, and picked up his floppy body and made my way towards Supergirl.

I asked if she was ready and she agreed with her head. So, I picked one other guy up, throwing each one over my shoulders, and I flew into the DEO with Supergirl, putting all four of them in a cell.

Aunt Alex was looking proud of me, which is incredible. You know the feeling! And she went like. “Great work, kiddo!”

“Thanks! That was fun, it was like playing video-game!” I said making them laugh. But then Supergirl went:

“Ok, time to go home. I’ll go clean up the mess they made, and I’ll meet you back there in a bit.” And she was ready to fly away when I held her hand.

“I can help. Still early.” I said pointing at my watch, but I lied ‘cause it was already late. Supergirl narrowed her eyes at me, and I knew she was going to say no, so I said: “At least let me unbend the post light.”

So she went:

“Ok. Let’s go.” Supergirl flew and I flew behind her.

In the end, I ended up helping her clean up everything, and we had to sneak in home so Lena didn’t see what time we made it back home.

And then, when I laid in bed, I was feeling exhausted, but I was so tired that it was really hard for me to fall asleep, so I missed my first wake-up call with Kara knocking at my door, and when Lena woke me up a while later, I was so tired it was hard to focus. But I could never tell her that, ‘cause she would be pissed since she was right in the first place. So, I rolled out of bed and came to school.

The problem was that it takes a lot of effort to shut off my super hearing and pay attention to the test, and I wasn’t able to do that while feeling so tired, hence my F.”

“Well, at least you had a good time supering yesterday.” Jamie says after you finish your story and you agree with your head catching your breath.

“It was awesome! Even your mom looked impressed.” You lean over a pillar and look at her. “Except Lena will be so mad that I got a bad grade, because I was supering.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t do everything. Save National City and get a good grade the very next day.” She said and you think about it. No, you can’t do everything, but you’re supposed to. Besides, school is more important than saving National City since Supergirl could have done it all by herself, clearly.

But Lena doesn’t need to know, does she? It’s not lying if she doesn’t ask you about it, so there’s no reason you will run to tell her about it, right? Right. It’s fine. You’re fine.

But you’re not fine.

“Hey, babygirl!” Lena says when she walks in home later that day, your soul almost leaves your body. You jump so high in your chair; she furrows her brows at that. “What are you doing?”

“Having a heart attack!” You put your hand on your chest, and you feel your heart beating fast.

“You shouldn’t get scared so easily. You have super hearing.” She points out and you think about it for a second. She is right, you shouldn’t.

“I was distracted.” You defend yourself, and Lena comes closer to kiss your head. She looks at the books in front of you.

“Ooh, français. Très bien!” She jokes.

“Mhm, yeah.” You smile through the pain you’re feeling to just blurt it out right there. It’s very hard not to say anything. You hate keeping secrets from your moms. “How’s-How was work?”

“Oh, you know Fridays and meetings. They don’t usually go well together.” Lena says that grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass. “But at least we have family night today, right?”

“Right.” You smile and she excuses herself for a shower (glass of wine in hand), while you finish studying.

Kara gets home a while later with dinner in both hands, but she still manages to push your books out of the way so she can put them on the table. She ended up dropping all of your books on the floor, and you smile at her.

“Sorry, little one.” She bends out to help you with it, and you hear a loud gasp.

“What?” You ask surprised, and you look at what she’s pointing at. “Oh no. Oh no.”

“You got an F?” She yells in pure shock, and your eyes widen at the sound of that.

“Shhh! Will you keep it down, please?” You lower your glasses to make sure Lena is still in the bedroom and can’t hear you. Lucky for you that’s the case.

“An F!” Kara’s still shocked. She picks up your tests and reads it. “You were aware it was a French test, right?”

“Um, yes?”

“Because I’m pretty sure this is English, this is a math equation? And would you look at that! You wrote stuff in kryptonese! I’m not sure she could understand that.” She keeps looking at it, making you blush in embarrassment until you pull it out of her hands.

“I was… distracted.” You say, putting it inside of your book, and looking back at her. “Please, don’t tell mom.”

“Kid-”

“Please, mommy.” You try with your sweetest voice. “I’ll study harder for the next one and I’ll get an A, just please. Please. For me?”

“Don’t.” Kara looks at your pouting face and you can see she’s very inclined on hiding this with you. But she blinks twice looking away. “No, that won’t work. The pouting, and the ‘please for me’ bit. You know we don’t do lies in this house.”

“That’s not fair!” You cross your arms, upset. “Last week mom asked you if you ate all the chicken parm and you said no.”

“Are you serious?”

“You broke three glasses when you closed that cupboard a little too strong yesterday, and you told her nothing was broken.”

“Nothing important was broken.”

“Momma!” You pout again. “It’s not fair.” You hear Lena opening the bedroom door and making her way to where both of you are, and you raise an inquisitive eyebrow at Kara.

“Hey honey.” Lena says making her way behind the counter for another glass of wine. She looks at both of you having a stare down on the other side.

“One of us is going to tell her and she would rather if it was you.” Kara whispers close to your face, and you know Lena can’t hear her. You frown, and can’t believe Kara would do that. You can’t believe she won’t have your back about this.

“What’s-” Lena clears her throat, calling your attention back to her. “What’s going on?”

“Oh. Hi, love.” Kara makes her way to the other side of the counter and kisses Lena’s mouth. “Your daughter has got something important to tell you. I’ll go shower so we can have dinner and watch a movie.”

Kara leaves the kitchen and Lena raises her eyebrows at you, encouraging you to start. You don’t. You just look at her, and the book where your test lays inside. And you think about a lie. But you know you won’t lie, so it makes no sense for you to think of one in the first place. So, you get your test out of the book, and you come closer, holding on to it like it’s suddenly going to make it turn into an A instead.

“I, um, have something to tell you.” You sit on the other side of the counter, and she looks at the paper you’re clinging to so desperately. She does her eyebrow raise, and your heart feels like it’s going to stop with the thought of disappointing and upsetting her. Your mouth feels dry, your palms feel sweaty. It’s a whole ‘is this what a heart attack feels like?’ situation, before you can get your words out. “I didn’t do so well on a test.”

“Ok.” It’s what Lena says. She raises her hand at you, and you wince when you realize she will look at it. “Can I see it?” She pushes, once she realizes you’re still clinging to it, like holding onto a wrecked life-boat.

“Can’t you just take my word for it?” It’s your last desperate self-preserving act. Lena shows you her hand again, and you know that’s a clear ‘no’. “Ok.” You breathe out, handing her the paper. She takes it and looks at it, with furrowed eyebrows.

“Didn’t do well.” As in she’s saying that’s a very light way to put what she’s looking at.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time, I promise!” You blurt out. “Please, don’t make me stop supering. Please. I swear it was a one-time thing. This won’t happen ever again.”

Lena puts the test down, goes around the counter and stops in front of you, while you still rumble your apologies. She doesn’t say a word which is very distressing. You wish she would just yell and ground you, just do something, instead of radio silent like right now.

“Ok.” She finally lets out. Ok? What does ok mean? “You’ll do better next time.” And then she hugs you. You take a few seconds to wire your brain and acknowledge what’s happening, before wrapping your arms around her, and letting out a breath you’ve been holding the entire time.

“So, you’re not mad?” You ask, still in shock. Lena gives you a chuckle and whispers softly in your ear.

“I’m not mad.” She tries to move away, but you hold her tightly.

“Still hugging, still hugging.” You say, earning another chuckle from her, and she doesn’t move away. “So, I can still go supering with momma?”

“You can still go supering.” She whispers again.

“And I’m not grounded?” You ask again, and you feel Lena moving to kiss your cheek. You smile, very happy.

“And you’re very much grounded.” She whispers, and finally lets go of you, with a bop on your nose. “But nice try.” Lena gets her wine glass and looks at you with a soft expression. “Can I just ask you a favor?”

“Anything.” You’re so happy she’s not mad, and that you can still go supering, whatever she says, you’ll do.

“That physics formula it’s exactly what I was needing for an experiment. May I steal it?” She smiles, making you smile back.

“Really? Wow, it’s almost like I wrote that for you.” And you have, in fact, because you were listening to her during your entire test. And you feel like she somehow knows that because the English part is the explanation she was giving about the experiment, then you wrote the formula she was trying to come up with, and the kryptonese part actually says ‘I love you, mom’. So, you figured she must have put two and two together and she possibly knows.

“Oh, and babygirl?” Lena adds, looking at you from her wine glass. “Khap ukiem rrip, inah*.”

Yeah. She knows.

Notes:

*Khap ukiem rrip, inah = I love you, daughter*

#kara x lena #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #supercorpfamily #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #reader insert

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

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How to Cure a Cold

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You catch a cold after playing in the snow. Loki worries that, as a frost giant, he is too cold to warm you up, but you quickly convince him otherwise. Warnings: very brief and non-descriptive mention of violence; short and fluffy, with just a dash of angst A/N: Just some quick winter fluff for everyone! Hope you all enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Are you sure you’re going to be warm enough?” Loki fretted as you prepared to step outside. “Perhaps another scarf?”

“Relax,” you laughed. “I’ll be fine.”

He was about to say something else, but you silenced him with a kiss. Turning a deep shade of scarlet, he relented and let you lead the way outside where the first snow of the season had just finished. You loved your boyfriend to pieces, but he worried far too much. Though, to be fair, it may make sense considering how you met. There had been an attack on the Tower, some hydra operatives trying to take out the Avengers. You worked on one of the lower levels in administration, and while all your coworkers had been rounded up, you’d evaded capture and got word to the heroes on the levels above. Just as the hydra agents discovered you, Loki came bursting in and saved everyone. He shielded you from a bullet and, naturally, you made sure to seek him out and thank him once the whole ordeal was over. The two of you just clicked and eventually started dating.

You walked out of your suburban home that you’d bought together and into the cold. You fought off a shiver, knowing that it would earn you an “I told you so” look from Loki. After zipping your jacket up just a little bit more, you pulled Loki down into the snow with you, and started making a snow angel.

“What in the Nine are you doing, darling?” he asked, looking on with perplexed features.

“Are you for real?” you asked back, turning your head to look at him. “Do you really not know what a snow angel is?”

“I am afraid it was warm year-round on Asgard. I do not know much of your outdoor winter activities. Regardless, I am sure Asgardian traditions would be quite different than the ones on Midgard, should we have any.”

“Well then, it’s my job to teach you.”

He was hesitant at first, certain that he would look absolutely ridiculous. Slowly, you convinced him that it was fine, and he gave in. Even so, he seemed rather embarrassed when your neighbor passed by, walking his dog.

Once you’d finished, you contemplated what activity should be next. A snowball fight could be rather fun, but you had to admit, you were a little nervous that Loki would go overboard. He was usually very gentle with you, but he could be a bit competitive. Not that you were complaining; you loved his fiery side. Maybe something you could do as a team would be better, though.

“That’s it!” you exclaimed, trying to snap your fingers through your gloves. “We should build a snowman.”

“Come again?” Loki replied, trying to work out how a person made of snow would be very practical. Besides, how could mortals instill sentience in it?

“We make three balls of snow, then stack them. I have a bunch of stuff for decorating it inside. And, yeah, it melts in a few days, but it’s fun while it lasts,” you explained with a smile.

“I see,” he said, glad he hadn’t fully voiced his now silly musings. “If it is what you desire, then I would love to make a snowman.”

You demonstrated how to roll the snow and got to work, ignoring the chill on your skin as snow got in your sleeve. Loki noticed as you paused for a moment to shake it out and came over to check on you. You just waved him off, certain that you’d be alright. If you were going to be completely honest, though, the cold was starting to get to you, and you’d suppressed more than one sneeze.

While Loki hefted the head onto your creation, you quickly ran into the house to grab the box with the necessary accessories, including a fake carrot for when you didn’t have a real one in your fridge. You excitedly rushed out to rejoin the trickster god, but unfortunately went just a little too quickly and slipped on a patch of ice. Loki was by your side so quickly you wondered if he’d teleported the short distance.

“My darling!” he exclaimed. “Are you injured? How can I help?”

His hands hovered over you, almost as if he was afraid he’d hurt you more if he touched you. You grabbed one of his gloved hands to still its nervous movement, and pressed it to your lips. That seemed to ground him, and he helped you up, putting his free arm around your waist to steady you.

“I’m ok,” you reassured him, bending back down to pick up the box. “Thank you. Come on, let’s finish our snowman!”

Together, you dressed up your snowy work of art, and stood back to appreciate the finished product. You were about to ask him what he thought you should name it when you felt a sneeze building up. Despite trying to hold it back, it slipped out. And it wasn’t any demure, cute sneeze either. It came out full force, practically a shout.

“Aha! I knew it!” Loki declared. “You, my darling mortal, are not bundled up enough. Now come in before you catch your death of cold. Please.”

“Well, that’s a little dramatic,” you protested, hands on your hips. The soft, pleading look he was giving you, though, quickly made you agree. “Ok, fine. But I can walk, you don’t need to carry me.”

“Fair enough, darling.”

You went inside and stripped off your jackets, gloves, and scarves. Loki immediately ushered you to the couch and tucked you under a blanket. He used his magic to start a fire, then rushed off into the kitchen to prepare your drinks, tea for him and hot cocoa for you. Handing your mug to you, he sat down on the other end of the couch.

“Hey, Loki?” you said. You knew there was something bothering him given the way he sat so far away. “You know what would really help me warm up?”

“Another blanket?” he guessed. “Or being closer to the fire, perhaps?”

“Nope. Snuggles.”

He frowned a little, eyes downcast. “I am not so sure that would have the desired effect. You forget, darling, I am a frost giant.”

“Nonsense,” you tsked, now understanding why he was keeping is distance. “If anything, that only means you should be getting warm with me. Now come on. Snuggle time. Please.”

“I do not think it works that way,” he argued, though you could see his resolve was weakening.

You lifted up the blanket and looked at him with your puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn’t resist. With a sigh, he slid over and tentatively wrapped his arms around you. He didn’t relax until you cuddled against him, though. He pressed a hesitant kiss to the back of your neck, and smiled against your skin when you made a happy, content little hum.

“I hope you know, Loki,” you began, “I don’t care if your the coldest thing on the planet or the warmest thing in a million miles; I will always want to cuddle with you. Because, well, because you’re you, and I love you.”

“Oh, darling,” he replied, the uncertainty in his touch fading fast as you kissed along his jaw, making your way to his lips. “I cannot express how much it fills me with happiness to hear those words. Thank you so much. I love you, too, more than anything else in the Nine Realms.”

You sighed happily and burrowed further into his side. As you felt yet another sneeze building up, you wondered if maybe he had been right after all, and you were getting sick. Rather than lecturing you on the importance of staying warm in the winter, the raven haired god just handed you a tissue as the sneeze finally made its way out of you in a loud “achoo.” It made you feel safe and cared for, and you were glad to know that if you did come down with anything, you would have the man you loved to take care of you. Loki pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you stayed there chatting until you slowly drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms.

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someonewhowannadielol · 5 years ago

Text

My name is JK (Alien!Jungkook! x Human!Reader)

PART TWO (SEQUEL TO ‘MY NAME IS 01001010 01001011′)

CLICK HERE FOR PART ONE

LINK TO MASTERLIST

Warning: Tooth-rotting fluff, Jungkook being a cutie, ok the real warning tags are Daddy kink, birthday sex, innocent reader being trained (???), lots of hicks and marking, cunt slapping, oral sex, uhh and jk being a competitive baby.

Genre: Fluff, Smut, if you squint and look closely, a little bit of humour.

Word Count: 5.6k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

It had been a week since Jungkook had, ahem, dicked you down. And it has been the best week of your life so far – he showed you things you had never seen before, the most beautiful scenes that your eyes feasted upon. You both had gone to the Neon Valley, it was a vast blue-purple lake that lit up at night due to the minerals on the sand bed below, and the lilies residing there would dance every night.

They fluttered, swung and swayed – and simultaneously, Jungkook and you too, had danced – he took you in his arms and as you both slow danced to the humming of the diva-crackers, you couldn’t help but look at his gorgeous face, adorned with a smile that you’d never replace for anything in this universe. You could feel yourself falling for him, he twirled you with ease, and as you stumbled back into his arms, he lost his balance trying to save you from falling and splash!

You both had ended up in the hot water, and despite the current situation, you both had burst into boisterous laughter which echoed across the plain field around. In the shining moonlight, Jungkook’s face was more lit up than the neon water they were in, his long hair sprawled across his forehead, as he pushed it back with his left hand, while holding your waist with his right arm.

Jungkook looked at you with such intensity, you didn’t really know how to react. both of you knew you wanted more than just cuddles on your couch that was too small for Jungkook, more than grocery shop romances, and trekking on the artificial mountain, and more than watching movies together,, more than cuddling under the tree at the main park, more than making fun of each other, you wanted each other so much more badly.

“Kiss me,” Jungkook whispered, his face getting dangerously close.

“I’m scared,” Of course you were, but you didn’t move away from me.

“Of what?” Jungkook’s eyebrows bunched up like they always do when he’s confused.

“Of falling. Of drowning,” you answered as you looked into his eyes, how could someone not fall for him?

“Well, I’m already drowning, so don’t be scared, silly,” Jungkook’s eyes formed from his usual doe eyes to half-moon crescents and, you were no longer afraid to fall.

Because he was there, he will always be there, right beside you.

Fuck. You couldn’t help but curse as you saw the red spot on your lavender sheets, they were my favorite sheets. You had really bad mood swings when you were on your period, and you were basically uncontrollable. You saw Jungkook’s figure on the left side of the bed, sleeping peacefully, his chest heaving up and down as he breathes consistently.

“Baby,” you whined, as you almost pushed him off the bed. There was no way that you were going to the pharmacy to get the goods, so he was your only choice possible.

He stumbled as he got up, sleep still swimming in his eyes, as his hands went up to rub them, trying to get rid of the slumber that had taken over him.

“Yes, princess?” he asked in his hoarse voice – which turned you on (especially a lot now, since your uterus was sad, lonely and angry). His eyes travelled to the blood on the sheets, and it would be an understatement to say that he had a heart attack.

He immediately engulfed you in his arms, “Are you hurt anywhere?” he said, unable to breathe, because fuck, if anything ever happened to you, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

The worry in his eyes was making you feel guilty; did he even know what was happening?

“Jungkook, chill,” you laughed a little before directing him to the side of the bed, telling him to sit.

“Humans – well, only females – have to go through a period of time where they bleed. From down there,” you explain, and watch him go into a slight state of shock.

The poor baby just woke up 2 minutes ago, so this was probably hard to digest.

“You… you’re bleeding… and you don’t go to the hospital?”

“Does it hurt?” he asks in the timidest voice ever, careful not to offend you. He remembers once he asked you about body hair and since it was your biggest insecurity (cue Middle School flashbacks when you were the only girl with a slight unibrow and mustache), you couldn’t help but lash out on him.

“Yeah, it hurts a lot in my tummy,” you said on your way to the bathroom, “I need my supplies though, could you get them for me?”

Half an hour later, Jungkook returned with five bags of chocolates, chips and snacks – enough to feed a small village. The entire week, he kept studying you (you swear you saw him looking at you and writing notes in his small notebook, like a detective. Sigh) and your mood swings and tendency to eat the weirdest food combinations – he couldn’t help but gag when he saw you dip a whole cucumber in peanut butter.

“Kookie, cuddle with me,” during the day you would make grabby hands at him, and get him to massage your back, but at night you’d be the complete opposite – wanting to sleep as far away from him as possible. He also noted that you were more sensitive to jokes during the week, so he kept them at a minimum, and his praises at a maximum.

“Baby, you know, you look so cute in my arms,” he cooed, as he kissed your cheek while cuddling. He didn’t miss the blush that crept on your cheeks either.

Also, despite all the bleeding, you were ready to jump his bones anytime. He hasn’t had this much sex with anyone in one week. Not that he minded it.

You were more than ecstatic when you saw your favourite-est food in the world stocked in the human section of the grocery store. Spicy Hot Korean Ramen! You still remember when eating this used to be a challenge, back on Earth.

As you stacked the basket with half the stock, Jungkook couldn’t help but look at the ingredients – what was it that made you love them so much?

He was well, more than shocked to see all the different kinds of spices that humans could barely tolerate, chili flakes, red pepper oil, habanero flavored seasoning… he couldn’t let you eat this!

“Baby, this is too spicy for you, maybe we should buy this,” he pointed to the boring chicken and cheese flavored ramen. No! You were going to buy the spicy one and that’s finalized. Of course, Jungkook looked at you, and couldn’t argue. He doesn’t think he could argue with you even if he tried to.

Back at the apartment, Jungkook bit his tongue, trying not to say “I told you so,” as you fought your tears while eating the horrendous noodles. You were positive you could never feel your numb tongue as you chugged down the glass of strawberry milk that Jungkook handed you.

As expected, Jungkook was prepared for the stomach ache you experienced throughout the night, and gave you medicine to recover.

Before sleeping, you heard him sigh before saying, “I told you so,”

Jungkook had noticed you a lot, ever since you moved in with him. You didn’t have much belongings anyways, because you were only allowed to carry 100 pounds of baggage on the space craft, so you only carried the essentials. (Yes, you brought an oven. Yes, it was 77 pounds heavy. No regrets.)

While getting accustomed to his cozy, but huge apartment, you couldn’t help but trip over furniture. At first, it was his coffee table in the kitchen, next to the refrigerator. Every time you would get something to eat, your pinky would hit the leg of the table, causing you to splutter nonsense and then cry about it.

His bed was also higher than you expected it to be, so every day, for an entire month, after waking up you would underestimate the height – and always, always fall down from it.

He was extremely shocked by your ability to ignore pain, and to continue suffering every day because of the same cause at the same place. It’s okay, because now he’d hold you as you stepped out of the bed, and moved the coffee table to the other side of the kitchen.

He also noticed that humans don’t always have a thought out sleep schedule, they did as they pleased. Last night, you were pretty much half asleep at 4 AM, as you tried to finish the last episode of the new Netflix series.

“You were so sleepy, yet you continued to watch it without even understanding what’s happening?” he asked as soon as you woke up, to which you shrugged.

Again, next week, you forced yourself to get up at 5AM in the morning, so you could go for a jog. After all, you were thinking of getting more fit, all you did was lay on the couch. But as you headed in the bathroom for a shower after the run, he couldn’t help but think that humans are weird.

The first time Jungkook heard you crunch your bones, he was so scared, you almost though he would faint. He threw his game controller on the floor, as he ran towards you – thinking you had dislocated a limb, or something.

“Kookie, I was j-just stretching,” you could barely make out the words, trying to hold in your laughter as he tried to make sure you were okay.

With a sigh, he ran his hand through his fluffy – much longer – hair now, as he headed back to continue his game, “Baby, you’re so weird,”

“But you still love me?” you asked as you joined him on the couch, laying your head on his lap.

“I will always love you. Even if your bones crack,”

Bonus: When you got up at night for a midnight snack, you were surprised to see that Kookie wasn’t in bed with you. You later found him in his office, studying about how a human’s joint makes loud popping or cracking sounds because of the gas gathered there. He was finally content to ensure that you were safe.

Of course, you smothered him in hugs and kisses, because he always looked out for you. Always.

After a few weeks of being in Corellia, you had started to well… miss Earth. It was natural to do so; you’d lived your entire life there.

“I miss the sunsets, they were so pretty,” you spoke as you showed him a polaroid of you and your sister with the sunset behind you both. You pointed towards the one sun you had, and the purple, pink and orange hues of the clouds.

In an attempt to make you happy, Jungkook gave you a chocolate, they always made you happier, and he’d read somewhere something about chemicals in it making humans happier. But he was surprised to see you dancing (terribly) to a pop song, that seemed a little annoying, but he could deal with it.

The song had seemed to lighten your mood a lot, as you danced along with him happily, and as you looked at him, you felt happier. His long, wavy hair bounced as he danced with you. His eyes were smiling, and it was so pure that you laughed along. You were happy finally.

Until two weeks later, when you came across a photo of you and your high school class, trekking up a mountain on your senior trip to the north. Jungkook saw you sad again, missing Earth and your loved ones. Some were dead, some didn’t make it here, and some lived on the hotter side of the planet.

He put up the same pop song again, and cuddled with you on the couch. For the first time ever, you really felt grateful to God for something. You felt grateful that you were alive, and that you had Jungkook along with you. He looked how he looked every day, wearing a casual white t-shirt and grey baggy sweatpants. You adjusted yourself on his lap, and looked at him, and looked into his brown eyes. As you traced his face with your finger, he laughed, “Princess, do you feel better?”

You smile at the word of endearment, kissing his cheek, “You make me realize the difference between a house and a home. A house is a place, made with bricks and concrete, and materialistic items. But a home, is so much different. A home is where you feel belonged, a home is a place where you get that feeling of love. You make me finally realize how Earth was more of a house for me, but here, in your arms, I finally feel like I’m at home,”

You never thought Jungkook would be an overprotective boyfriend. Or a way too over protective boyfriend. During sex, he would go crazy on your body – sometimes treat you like a china doll, fragile and easily breakable, and sometimes it would be rough and harsh, not that you minded it.

His apartment was well, more suited for Jubal people because the ceilings, the bed, and of course, the kitchen cabinets were all bigger in height and size in comparison to your apartments back on Earth. Often, without thinking Jungkook would put food on the top most cabinets, and you often either felt too embarrassed, or too stubborn to ask for his help.

Which resulted in you – dangerously – climbing on the shelf to grab your precious food. This was a routine now, so you didn’t exactly pay attention to your limbs – just letting your muscle memory do the work for you. Right foot on the counter, and then you push your left knee as well, until you’ve made yourself stable on the counter top. Then, you stand up, holding the cabinet handle. Today was the same, but Jungkook had recently scrubbed clean the shelves, so they were more slippery than usual, and there was a fleeting moment when you thought you were about to fall (which would, by the way, give you the nastiest head injury), and before you realized it, Jungkook had looped his arm around your waist.

You were still shocked – chips in hand – when he settled you on his lap, almost like a child.

“Princess, what were you thinking?” he says as he lets you turn around, so you straddling his lap.

“I just wanted some chips, Kook,” you say with an amused grin. He was obviously distressed, as he sighed while running his hands through his hair, like he would when he was frustrated.

“Baby, you have to tell me if you need something from there, okay? What if you had hurt yourself?” his voice seemed to get louder with every words, and just like that, your amused grin was replaced with a pout, as you lowered your head.

You didn’t mean to make him angry like that.

Looking at you, he knew he couldn’t ever stay mad at you. It was physically impossible for him. He hugged you, and your head rested on his cheat, feeling his fast heartbeat morphed into a more, stable and steady beat, “I’m just always worried for you. Even if everything is wrong, it’s alright, you’re the only good thing in my life,”

It had been ages since you had gone to a festival, and there was going to be a carnival-like festival in Corellia soon. You didn’t think Jungkook would be that interested, so you were quite surprised to see him… so excited about it.

“It comes twice in a year, you have to come! I’ve heard they’ve made it more human themed this year, so you feel welcomed, but we’ll have our traditional rides too!” he spoke with a gleam in his eyes, as you both got ready.

Jungkook of course, made sure you were wearing at least five layers of clothes, two pairs of gloved, and three pairs of socks. It was night time, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of you looking like a walking marshmallow.

“Baby, you look so cute!” he exclaimed, holding your hand. The dead town looked really alive tonight, as the red, yellow, purple and other multicolored lights lit the place up, to make it feel even more alive. You were really shocked at the amount of people present, but that’s what made it even more fun.

The first thing had to be food, you got two plates of fries, because, well, is it even possible or human to share food? And that too, fries? No way.

Jungkook had recently discovered ketchup, and now he would dip everything in it before eating. Ramen, dipped in ketchup. Chips, dipped in ketchup. Bread, dipped in ketchup. And now, you saw him cover every single chip in ketchup before eating it. While you thought this was disgusting, you were still amused by his new found love for it.

You both scared a giant cup of strawberry milkshake, that looked like it was out of a romcom, cotton candy pink color, with whipped cream on top. And naturally, the cherry. Your noses touched, as you both drank at the same time, and you couldn’t help but want to live in the moment forever.

You both had spent the night, either enjoying rides that were too scary, and hazardous to experience but at the same time too fun to miss out on, or competition with each other to the next level. You knew Jungkook had always been a competitive little shit, whether it was about who would cook better and faster, or about who loved the other one more, he was always in a competition. This was no exception either, as you both we immersed in a car racing game, where you were well, obviously losing.

You had never really been the best at arcade games, and this car games was extremely frustrating, because the goddamn seat was too big and your legs could barely reach the pedals on the bottom while holding onto the steering wheel simultaneously. He laughed as you struggled to multitask, and at one point you didn’t realise you were going the wrong way until you heard Jungkook laughing so hard, he was struggling to breath. Three tries later, Jungkook had had his fair share of victories as he put you in his lap, and told you to focus on the steering only. He’d handle the pedals part. Together, you guys had broken the fastest record of the day and of course, he had to congratulate you. And the congratulations came in a form of a heated kiss – which wasn’t liked by the Jubals waiting in line to play the game.

Later, you both had way too much fun beating others in basketball as you paired up, and beat a Jubal power couple. Then came the bumper cars. The same Jubal power couple had hit your and Jungkook’s car so hard that you almost flew across the set-up, if it wasn’t for the seatbelt, and Jungkook’s arm around the waist. It was safe to say that Kook took his revenge by hitting their car repeatedly, as he shoved them into a corner. You kissed your over protective boyfriend on the cheek, he was just so fricking cute.

You both ate more food than you could handle, and as you were walking, Jungkook bought a donut and tried to feed you.

“No! No, Kook, I swear!” you tried to get away from him, but he held your waist as he pushed the donut in your mouth, smearing it over your cheek in the process.

“Kook!” you exclaimed, as he kissed you, and licked away any leftover icing.

You couldn’t help but blush when he smirked, “Sweet.”

At the end of it all, you pushed Kook into a small photo booth that sat on the other end of the carnival.

“Please? Come on!” you tried to show him your puppy eyes, and turned your lips into a pout.

“But baby, I don’t look good in photos!” he whined as you inserted the money to take a four portrait photo.

“Please? Just this once? For me?” you pouted again, and pushed him in with you, and you tried to drag his arms.

“You can’t give me the puppy dog face! You know I can’t say no to that!” he whined, adjusting you in his lap.

“Just pose, Kookie,” you said as you closed the red curtain on the side. In the first one, your arms were around his neck as you laughed and looked in the camera, and he looked at you, pouting. The second one, you both looked at each other and smiled, his hands in your hair. The third had been him grabbing your face, squishing you cheeks and bringing you closer (but because of the movement – it was also blurred, at which you were disappointed, but Kook assured you it looked good), and lastly, in the fourth one, you were kissing passionately, while Jungkook smiled in the kiss.

You both climb the small hill, where people are buying and lighting their lanterns in an orderly manner. You both buy one, and you end up writing “JK X Y/N” on it with red paint, and before Jungkook lights it, he adds a red heart, and “4EVER,” underneath which looks so cheesy, that it makes you laugh.

He looks at you, and kisses your forehead. Around 10:30, everyone lets go of their lanterns, and you both also let go of yours, letting it fly in the sky, as Jungkook cups your cheeks and pushes your hair back, before kissing you, sweet and slow.

The night had come to an end as all the Jubals were leaving too. You didn’t know exactly what time it was, but it was definitely i-can’t-walk-o’ clock, as Jungkook gave you a piggy back ride without any questions when he saw you stumbled into others. In one hand you held the teddy bear he had won from the water gun thingy, and in the other you held a cotton candy like sweet – but it wasn’t exactly cotton candy. It was blue and purple, and shined because of the crystallized sugar on it.

The last thing you remember was resting your face where his shoulder and neck met and mumbling, “This was the best day of my life,”

If someone had told you that you’d have a cook off with an alien in two months’ time, you would’ve laughed in their face. But. Here you were. Trying to cook the best alfredo pasta he would ever taste in his life.

You tried to glance on his cooking station multiple times, only to be pushed back, “Baby! It’s supposed to be a surprise!”

Jungkook really seemed to be absorbed in the cooking process, and you were starting to feel deprived of his love and adoration that he would usually shower at you when he was not working in his office.

30 minutes later, he brought you his favourite dish, the one that his mother used to cook for him when he was younger. It was orange red-ish coloured deep fried small cutlets, that smelled… amazing. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it tasted like, it was salty, but in a different way. And so, so, yummy. You were a little insecure when Jungkook took a bite of your pasta, and showed no emotion.

Oh no, you had tasted it and it felt pretty normal, juts how you’d make it on Earth. Was he allergic to something in it?

“Baby, what did you put in this?” he asked, but he didn’t seem to stop eating it. He didn’t speak anything until, well, he finished the dish.

“Can you make that for me every day?”

It had been over six months, since you and Jungkook had been seeing each other. Naturally, as a couple you both did fight – mostly over stupid stuff, like which restaurant to go to, or disagreements on what to buy etc. But you both would always sort it out, no matter what it was, he was always by your side.

It was his birthday, and Jubals never really celebrated their birthday – “Why would you celebrate this? I’m just one more year near death,” he said as you told him about ‘Earth Traditions’.

Albeit to whatever he said, you made yourself busy when he went out to meet the gang. You’d met them a couple of times before, being much closer to Taehyung because he never really questioned whatever you did, and just went along with it. You had enjoyed Jimin and Jin’s company as well (mostly because they cooked for you, not gonna lie).

As you hung up the balloons that said, “Happy Birthday!” individually, you had started to well, decorate yourself as well.

You knew how Jungkook always looked at you as if you were the most pure creature in this universe, his innocent little baby, so you decided to dress the part. Dressed in white panties, with a small bow on them, you adjusted your pink tinted, bra that came along with it. It left little to the imagination, as it was see-through, but there were small bows on each nipple, making you look like a present. You’d never really been the one to dress up in stockings as well, but here you were, tweaking your garter, as the pink shaded white see-through material latched on your legs as a second skin. Now, you waited patiently.

He finally came, around half past seven, and looked better than ever. You’d worn your silk robe that you would usually wear around, so he wouldn’t suspect anything. He looked so happy, his eyes crunched up into its usual crescent shape as he laughed while blowing the candles and eating your home-made cake. He had always loved your baking, so when you made his favourite Oreo cake, he was really, really happy. You’d made him a teddy bear – you were bad at sewing, but hey! A for effort.

“Kook, there’s a present in your bedroom too,” you said as you took his left hand and guided him in the bedroom. You had given him several gifts already, so why were you giving him another one?

“Baby, you didn’t have t-“ he stopped as soon as you dropped your robe in front of him, letting him take in the sight of you, clad in your lingerie that he had only imagined in his wildest fantasies.

The light hearted aura around him seemed to vanish, as a darker shade took over his eyes. Without speaking anything, he carried you bridal style, to the bed and laid you down softly on it.

“Gonna let me taint you, angel?” he asked, and at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but moan and nod.

“Use your words, baby,” he said as he let his fingers roam on your figure, and lit a fire in your core, making you overwhelmed.

“Yes, Daddy, please make love to me,” you whine, but he tsks on your choice of words.

“Angel, my princess,” he says as he leaves a trail of wet kisses from your neck to you collarbone, sucking on it, “I’m not going to love to you today, I’m going to fuck you, baby”

You gasp as he circles around the bow on your nipple, before ripping the thin material completely, letting the cool air hit your vulnerable skin.

As Jungkook just keeps looking at you, his long hair shadowing in front of his eyes, you can’t help but feel needy, “Daddy, please, touch me,” you whine, trying to get ahold of his hand.

He gently brings his mouth down, sucking on the little tip of your nipple, as his tongue works magic around it, and you’re already starting to get wet.

“It’s u-unfair that you’re all d-dressed up,” you moan, as you try to take off his white t-shirt. He chuckles as he takes off his shirt, letting you look at his god-like body. You were speechless when you first saw him, and you still are every time you both have sex.

His lean body, is just perfect in every way, and the way the moonlight hits his face, giving his face the shadows that come along with the highlights, you were dumbstruck at how breathtaking he was.

While Jungkook loved to mark you, mark your body, make you his, today was harsher, much more aggressive as he bit your chest, making you cry out in pleasure. He painted your body in hues of purple and bright pink, using his tongue to make each bruise feel better. As soon as he reached the hem of your underwear, he stopped, and that resulting in a whine from you.

“It’s my birthday, and you said I deserve anything on this day. So, princess,” he said, unbuckling his belt, and you swallow hard before he lets his cock free, ”let me fuck those beautiful tits,”

He pushes himself into your mouth without any warning, letting you groan and whimper as you produce enough saliva to make him sopping wet, “Good baby,” he whispers as he lets his dick between your tits.

You smiled, as you held your breasts together, and he slides his hardening member between them, “fuck baby, you’re so soft, so pretty for Daddy,” he murmurs obscene praises as you whimper in pleasure from the friction between your breasts.

He places his cock between them, and first experiments with his movements, and as time passes, he becomes faster, and messier. You both didn’t mind the mess, as his pre-cum lands on your chest, collarbone and nipples, and you can only whine in pleasure while letting him use your body.

His movements go from steady and fast to uncoordinated and stuttering, as he pulls out and pants, letting him catch his breath.

“Fuck, baby, they felt like heaven, but there’s something else, way better,” he grins as pulls himself down on your body, and looks as you underwear, directly. It makes you whimper, when you feel his hot breath through the thin material. He laps his tongue on it, and it feels so good, but not good enough, and you wish he would just take it off.

“Daddy, please, take it off,” you whine and he pulls your legs further apart and digs his face between them.

He smirks and looks at you, already fucked out as a blush stays on your cheeks. Angelic.

“Keep the stockings on, okay, sweetheart?” he says as his finger traced down your leg, as you shiver under his touch.

He comes up to you and cups your face, pressing a kiss against your cheek – and it felt so chaste in comparison to what you both had just done.

And before you could realize, he slips his fingers under the hem of your panties, and shreds them into pieces.

“What do you want from Daddy?” he stops in front of your clit, spreading your lips, waiting for your answer. He knew you were shy, too shy to speak vulgar words, but you were just so needy right now.

“Daddy, I need your tongue,” you speak, and let his tongue sit flat on your bud, it gave enough stimulation, but at the same time not enough, and you just needed more. You couldn’t help but buckle your hips into his face, and that resulted in his getting up and looking at you, making eye contact.

“You’re being ungrateful now, huh?” he says as he smacks the bud hard, where seconds ago he let his tongue rest. It’s painful, but at the same time, it just feels so, so good. He smacks it two more times before letting his teeth sink in your inner thigh, as you let lewd noises escape your mouth, as he further marks your thighs, and you knew, for sure that they would last a long time.

After a lifetime of teasing, he lets his tongue slurp the cum that escaped your pussy, as he went to town on it, eating you out as if he’s been starving for years. You let your moans escape as he slips his tongue inside you, and lets his nose rub against your clit. You were so close, just about to fall off the edge as he pulls himself away, and you whimper, grabbing the sheets as if your life depended on them.

“Your cunt is always, always so pretty and tasty for Daddy,” he smacks between your thighs again, making you gasp, “always ready for Daddy,”

His ruffled, brown hair shines in the dark of the room, the moonlight being the only source of light, illuminating his face.

He lets his dick enter you, gently, until you reach your limit and instead of waiting like he always does, he rams back into you again, letting you adjust with his steady movements, as you grab his hand and hold it. He always holds your hand when he’s being rough, to let you know that he can stop anytime. (but u is a hoe)

He slides out until only his tip is inside you, and lets himself into you all at once, fast and reckless. Wild. It isn’t long before your walls clench around him, “Daddy, I-I’m so close,” you say as your rub you clit, slowly with a continual movement.

You orgasm starts first, hot and sticky liquid, dripping down you thigh, staining your perfect stockings, and soon Jungkook follows, as his head buries in your neck, and he groans before letting himself loose.

“Happy Birthday, Kookie,” you whisper before letting him take you to the tub, where you both well, fuck again.

LINK TO MASTERLIST

A/N: It’s always so fun to write alien!jk, and I hoped you guys liked it. Also, a huge thank you to @bisoo-ausucre for supporting me so much!

Could you please help me decide what to write first? Frat boy!jk OR titanic!au with Jimin as Jack?

As always, requests are open, and so is my inbox. See you next time!

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #Jungkook bts #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts reaction #bts reader insert #bts preference #Jungkook scenario #Jungkook imagine #Jungkook smut #Jungkook x reader #Jungkook fluff

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sideofmango · 4 years ago

Note

A perverted creep is making SO uncomfortable until SO snaps and starts cursing him out, but after getting close enough to Bakugo asks “did I do that right? 🥺” (you can make it a headcanon or fanfic, don’t matter)

Pairings: none (platonic friendship between reader x bakugou) Pronouns: she/her Warnings: cursing A/N: I am soooo sorry this took so long, with the holidays and everything I’ve been super busy! But I hope you like this :)

In the beginning, the hot headed blonde thought you were worse than Midoriya, mostly because you had transferred into the hero course in the middle of the year, which meant that you had to be a really skilled individual, and to him that was a threat, well until he saw how clumsy you were and the way you constantly were around him. At first it was annoying, but he grew used to your presence, and even though he wouldn’t admit it he considered you his best friend after a short amount of time.

“Katsu?” You waved your hand in front of his face, the two of you in his dorm studying for an upcoming test, but the blonde had zoned out. He blinked a few times before shooting you a glare, though you knew it wasn’t a serious one.

“What dumb ass?” He questioned, flipping through the textbook in his hands before stopping on a page. His crimson eyes focused on you after you stayed quiet. “What?”

“What were you thinking about?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side slightly as your dark eyes seemed to bore into his.

“None of your business dumb ass.” He replied quickly, rolling his eyes before tossing his notebook at you when you gave him a knowing smile.

“You’re lying.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Katsuki! I know when you’re lying!” You laughed, throwing the notebook back at him, though it didn’t hit him, instead knocking over a picture frame on his nightstand because he had moved last minute.

“Fine you really wanna know?” He asked a glint in his red eyes that you didn’t necessarily like. Usually they only did that when he was about to mess with Midoriya or cause issues by ignoring Iida.

“Duh.”

“I was thinking about you.”

“Me? What about me?”

“How hot you are.” He said before breaking out into laughter. You laughed loudly, shoving his shoulder as you rolled your eyes.

“Shut the fuck up. What about me?” Your laughter died down as he rolled his eyes.

“How annoying and stupid you are.”

“I’m not annoying or stupid.” You protested as he looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “Ok...maybe I can be kinda clumsy but I’m not stupid. I have the best marks in the class.”

“You literally asked me the other day if 60 seconds and one minute were the same thing.” Bakugou deadpanned.

“Ok that wasn’t my brightest moment...but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Ok what about the time when you asked me what animal Sonic the hedgehog was.”

“Shut the fuck up. I didn’t ask to be slandered like this. Is it attack (y/n) day or something?” You pouted, flipping him off as he laughed.

“Every day is, attack (y/n) day.” He answered seriously as you rolled your eyes.

“Do you wanna get ramen or not?” You stood changing the subject, growing bored of studying you figured a change of scenery would help.

“Is this you asking me to get ramen with you?”

“Do you want it or not?”

“Chill out. Of course I want it.” He scoffed as the two of you left his dorm and walked down the street from UA to a new ramen restaurant.

“Hey it’s that guy from the sludge monster attack!” A child said excitedly, snickering with his friends as they pointed at Bakugou. You saw Bakugou stop walking, an annoyed look on his face before he turned around to face the kids.

“Katsuki, don’t. You need to have a good media image remember?” You warned him as he took a breath and stared at you. You had been helping him control his anger, even if he still had a lot of work to do, he had made a very small amount of progress, though it was progress all the same.

“Why don’t you annoying little brats go bother someone else before I give you something to bitch about.” He said, his tone harsh though his volume remained low.

“Fuck you!” One of the boys said with a laugh. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at the kid before crouching down in front of the boy.

“I’ll blow your ass up. Say that shit to me again and see what happens.” He threatened as you decided to jump in.

“Alright. Run along children, no one wants you here anyway. Go bother your mothers and fathers.” You shooed them off as Bakugou frowned at their retreating figures.

“Brats.” He mumbled under his breath. The pair of you walked in silence down the street towards the ramen restaurant, a low whistle causing you to look over to where it had come from.

“Ayo girl! Let me show you a good time!” The older man called. You scrunched up your face in disgust but ignored it, grabbing your best friend’s arm before he did something to make the situation worse.

You finally arrived at the restaurant, the creepy man unfortunately had walked in after you, even though you had thought you lost him after running across the street.

When the pair of you sat down, not even needing a menu as you both ordered the same thing, the spiciest thing on the menu, you saw the creepy man begin to approach you again. He had requested the table beside yours.

“You know, it’s rude to ignore your elders.” He said to you. “But I’d still like to show you a good time.” He smirked at you. Bakugou began to open his mouth, but you raised your hand shooting him a look before your gaze turned to the creep.

“Can you stop?” You questioned, trying your best to be nice, after all as a future hero your image mattered a lot. The man smirked at you, his eyes hungrily going over your body as a shiver ran up your spine.

“Aw, come on sweetheart don’t be like that.” He smiled. “Besides, you look like you need a real man. I don’t think a little boy like him could handle you.”

You turned back to face him, putting on a fake smile to hide your anger at his disgusting advances and insults at your friend. “Listen here, you old fuck. You look like you're about to have a heart attack, I doubt you could handle anything. But that’s beside the point, you should learn to respect women, because you never know who might accidentally steer you into an alleyway and show you a fun time.” You smiled innocently at him, grabbing the knife on your place setting, bringing it down quickly so it stuck straight up from where it had been rammed into the table. “I am not the one to fuck with. Do you understand?”

The man nodded, his eyes wide and a faint sheen of sweat coated his forehead. He ran out of the restaurant shortly after that. You turned to your best friend, the blonde simply looking at you as he shoveled some of the spicy noodles into his mouth. “Did I do that right?” You asked, the scary aura that had surrounded you moments ago was gone and you now sat waiting for his answer, an unsure look on your face.

“Uh, yeah.” Bakugou replied simply with a nod, doing his best to hide the fact that your quick mood change had somewhat scared him, but he was proud of you, even though he would NEVER tell you that. You beamed at him before going to eat your own noodles, proud of yourself for unleashing your inner hot head on the creepy man.

TAGS:

#katsukisblackteddy #requested #bakugou x reader platonic friendship #bnha #mha #super sorry this took so long lol #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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kanene-yaaay · 4 years ago

Text

Tickle me, princey

Kanene’s note: This fic is basically: Virgil is a bratty Lee, Roman is a competitive Ler and none of them are going down without a fight xDD.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Lee!Virgil and Ler!Roman (Kind of. Because there is almost no tickles here, just teasing). Human AU.

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* This have about 2.500 words of Roman and Virgil just being teasy beans. ‘w’)b.

* PLEASE CHECK THIS AMAZING ART! IT’S INCREDIBLEE! <33

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! I didn’t proofread that one very well, so I will probably be correcting a few things later. Any advice is always very, very welcome!

* A versão em português brasileiro irá ser escrita, ainda. Eu espero! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Do something crazy today, take a good rest, be kind (especially with yourself) and drink water! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Roman cleaned his hands on his jeans before stretching his back and sighing in relief when a small ‘pop’ came from it. The pal from the nearby library was a cool person – not that he would ever allow the other to hear this, because, damn, people who called Roman cocky definitely haven’t met them yet – but equally precise in get on his nerves with as few words as possible, even though the florist didn’t care that much as his dramatics discourses tried to convince everyone he did.

Besides that, they was Patton’s friend and even more important, they made an accord with the Flower Shop’s owner and Roman was the one in charge to deliver their biweekly floral arrangement to the library’s decór. However, today Roman managed to win their discussion and therefore a couple of podcast episodes read by them (What? Their voice was quite nice!!).

Roman ignored the small ring of the door’s bell as he entered the Flower Shop, looking around to be sure there was no clients before taking his position behind the balcony, internally thanking how chill Patton was with his employees using phone during the shift as long there wasn’t no one near, especially as he unlocked his screen and a new notification popped in front of him.

Butterflies went immediately crazy on his stomach.

[Message from Panic! At Everywhere]

[P: Hey. So, are you still ok?]

Virgil kicked his blanket out of his bed, already feeling a tad of giddiness spread across his body, a small smirk finding its way to his face without him even realizing. Today was the day. Since when he and Roman talked on the last week about boundaries to be sure nothing had changed and decided Saturday as a good day for their session the one with purple hair couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander, picturing and re-picturing what would happen, even though Roman always insisted to never tell him his plans, wanting to keep everything as a surprise, which definitely didn’t help at all the excitement running on his veins.

Their session.

Their tickle session. It was only eleven in the morning and Virgil could already feel his skin tingle just by imagine Roman’s fingers grazing, dancing on it, carefully looking for all his weak spots both knew so well before coming with an entire new technique that would make the other (almost, barely, hardly) want to jump out of his skin so he could escape from the maddening tickly sensation.

He was going to love it.

Also, it didn’t help that he spent the previous night and its following morning consuming all his favorite tickle content, dying on the spot (and on the reblogs) and skyrocketing his lee mood to the mountains.

Nevertheless, he tried to play nonchalant as answered the other’s new message.

[Message from Dumb(o)]

[D: Yes.]

[P: Cool.]

[D: You?]

[P: Yep.]

[D: Glad to know, Blushy Bug. Try to not alarm all of our neighborhood with your squeals and giggles before I get there, okay? ~

D: And yeah, plu-e-ase, continue with your so delightful tags on your reblogs, okay, Tickle me Emo? I’m learning so much new information with that. If only I would have an opportunity to use all of them today…]

Virgil snorted, one hand trying to hide his face as he attempted with all his might to ignore the flames taking over his cheeks as the teases sank and the memories from the day he conquered this nickname emerged from the deeps of his mind. So, Princey was already so over his head with being the ler this time? Thinking Virgil would be hiding his face on the pillow, squeaking and tittering helpless? Well, he would have a big storm coming, then.

Virgil got up, his footsteps leading him to the clean desk in the room, moving some of the objects so carefully chosen in order to get the perfect picture. Every single makeup brush lined, gleaming under the lens of his camera, away enough so the viewer would be able to realize all their individualities but close enough to create an impact.

Two can play this game.

[Panic! At Everywhere sent an image]

Roman clicked on it, eyes going immediately wide as he quickly slammed the cellphone’s screen on his red apron, his gaze running from a place to another to be sure no one was near or had seen the conversation or noticed the way his smile went from an ear to another.

[P: Nah. I’m too occupied choosing the perfect tools for today… I mean, there are just so many options, ya know? I especially prefer the smallest ones, their bristles softly running on my ribs, tracing their way across my tummy to get to the other side… yeah. That is the good stuff. Or maybe we could be experimenting the biggest ones today, letting them tease that spot right under my chin, the softness engulfing all the nerves… ]

Roman took a deep breath, realizing the other still typing.

[P: Anyway, don’t make a big deal of this, ‘kay? I know your imagination can be very fertile but try to not alert Patton with all your blush and twitching. You know he is a curious guy and will want to know why you’re so smiley. ;)]

“Pai amado, (Dear God) he is going to kill me.” Roman crossed his arms, using all his will to no start wiggling them to nothing, a sudden urge to sing some nursery rhymes making him begin to humming quietly as attempted to gather enough concentration to type a proper, cool reply.

[D: Is that so? So, the big, badass Virgil Storm is excited to get all his tickly-tickle-tickles today? Is he excited to become a so helpless, so adorable mess of giggles and squeaks? To be teased and tickled until he can do nothing but give me those lovely snorts and wiggly-wiggles? ~

Awww. So cute. ~]

[P: Yeah, I am. So what? Wanna do something about that, Sir Sing a Lot?

Ops, I forgot you’re at work rn. Tsc. Such a pity. Well, guess I will have to kill some time by looking at your precious collection of feathers, see if I find something interesting there.]

[D: You just wait for when I get home.]

[P: :)]

Virgil laid his phone at his side, hiding his face on the mattress, kicking just like he was some teenager in love from those generic movies. The squeals bubbled out from his lips, smiles blooming. He knew he probably was just digging his own grave, but, ha, as if he would fall without a fight. Plus, imagining Roman trying at every cost to keep a straight expression while reading his texts and then struggling to continue his work just as if nothing had happened, with that cute, excited smile planted on his face made a proud wave of power – and joy - hit him and that was a bonus which was worth it.

Then his phone vibrated, indicating a new notification and a new flood of shivers as he unlocked his screen, freezing for a couple of heartbeats with the length of the message.

[D: A poem for my dear Knightmare. ~

Once upon a time

There was a wiggley-wiggly lee

That just a few pokes

Made him giggle with glee

Some scribbles here

Some scratches there

You can tickle-tickle

He is ticklish everywhere!

What, you don’t believe me?

‘That much cute he can’t be!’

Well, then allow me to demonstrate

All the beautiful sounds he can create!

Give a few prodding on his ribs

And a quick digging on his hips

Some brushes on his toesies and feet

And don’t forget about these helpless pits!

(And hey, psst, if you squeeze his sides

The cutie, squeaky, wiggly lee,

Will be squealing in a happy delight)

This neck is also asking for tickly-kisses

He always denies, always desire

Add to that some teasy whispers

And watch his cheeks be set on fire!

Once upon a time

There was a bratty, smug lee

That just a few tickle teases

Can make him a blushy mess

Just like now, you see!]

[…]

“Have a nice day. Thank you for coming!”

Roman waved to the client who got out from the Flower Shop, taming the smugness which threatened to take over his features as he realized that even though an hour had passed, no answer to his last text had arrived yet. He was perfectly aware of how weak Virgil was for any sort of rhymed tease and a whole poem – not his best, he had to admit – dedicated to him? He could almost see the other shrieking, hiding his red face on the pillow, lost in a mess of quiet peals of laughter and curses. His smile got even bigger, swelled in pride. And, well, if he couldn’t help it but push his luck a few inches further, his fingers already halfway to typing a small, itsy bitsy, new tease to his favorite emo lee, how could someone really blame him?

[D: Oh, sorry. Did I make the scary Virgil too much flustered to talk? Awww, I will miss your sassy remarks deeply and sing a ballad in your honor at the funeral. ~]

He snorted at the amount of time the symbol of ‘typing’ appeared and disappeared on the conversation, using the ten minutes he took to be answered to organize a few sales signs on the glass in front of the store, gaining a dance on his step as the one-worded sentence shone on his phone.

[P: Bitch.]

[D: I have no idea of what you’re talking about. Is that something I said? I feel wounded.]

But a new thing popped up.

[Panic! At Everywhere sent a video]

[P: :)]

It seemed like hours passed, even if he knew the downloading probably didn’t really take more than a few pieces of minute for him to hit the play.

The focus of the camera took a few seconds to adjust, the image trembling and shaking before going still, the crystal clear form of a small light brown, slightly spiked feather twirling between Virgil’s index and thumb locking his eyes on the screen. A quick, quiet sigh could be heard before the tickle tool descended to the palm extended on a desk, stopping by Virgil’s pulse.

The bristles grazed the skin there as the feather began to move on slow strokes, going from the left to the right, left and right, left and right… calmly making its way up, changing to small swirls as it contorted the form of the hand, giving to each finger a light tracing before concentrating on the palm, drawing a spiral which approximated inch by inch to the center. If Roman wasn’t so quiet, - even holding his breath, - maybe he wouldn’t be able to listen the incredibly low, contained huffs of laughter on the background, a soft snort escaping and making both hands tremble as the bristles hit the center of his hand, dancing around the spot for a bit.

When it stopped, the tool was placed on the desk and then the camera started to move, stopping on Roman’s so very well-known golden with silver details box. Its lid laid next to it, letting its entire content to be proudly shown. The explosion of colors from the most diverse large, small, pointy, fluffy feathers took over the frame, however, a tiny piece of paper placed on the exact center of them was what captured his attention. The lens zoomed and focused, making him able to read the quick message written there.

“:)”

And then the screen went black. The video was over.

Roman could feel his face being almost split in half by his grin, his fingers hitting the table top in complete frenzy since they hadn’t to hold the device anymore, curling and uncurling as the one who couldn’t just stay still started to bounce his right leg, ignoring the redness he felt crippling down his neck.

“Roman?”

He fully shrieked. Both him and Patton startled and jumped a few centimeters in the air with the sudden sound. The florist slapping his own hand on his mouth, trying with all his inner strength to stop the bubbly giggles which flooded non stop from his lips

“Sorry for the scare, kiddo,” the shine on his eyes free of any guilt as Patton bit his own knuckles proved the contrary, especially when the rest of an awed squeal escaped from his lips, only making the other to giggle harder, eyes closed, blush deepening and nose scrunched. “Aww, your giggles are so cute!”

“Shuhuhush!!” The Flower Shop owner just smiled fondly, withholding his comments and patiently waiting for the other to recompose himself. When Roman looked at least a tad calmer he decided to make his decision to talk to him clear.

“I’m glad you’re in a good mood, Ro! I just wanted to remember today’s shift is already over. I need a bit of time to organize everything before the painter comes so we can discuss the new design of the Flower Shop. Thank you so much for the ideas, by the way! I can’t wait for you all to see the result! It will be so pretty!!” Roman’s wide eyes were enough of an explanation of why he wasn’t ready to go yet, probably having forgotten about their last month conversation. Although, the surprised look was away in an instant, a shine taking over his glare before he softened, locking his eyes with Patton.

“Of course, it will be, Patty-cake! With my magnificent ideas and your good taste, I really don’t think any other result besides wonderful and perfection will be possible!” He squeezed Patton’s cheeks and his friend stuck out his tongue at him, winning a quick poke on his ribs that made him squirms and yelp, quickly tittering and waving the other with his hands.

“Now shoo-shoo, go enjoy your afternoon!”

A devious smirk gleamed on Roman’s expression for a second. “You can count on it, Padre.” But then it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Thank you, my mighty hero in a shiny armor! May the universe let our destiny align again in the future.”

“See ya, kiddo!” He replied, his tune also full of joy, watching the one with red hair going away, a happy bounce on his steps.

[…]

Virgil picked the phone in the first ring. “Roman, something happened?”

“Nope,” the purple lover sighed in relief, all the tension getting out of his body and being replaced by confusion, “nothing happened except that a handsome, incredible someone got out from his work earlier than expected and might be heading his home by now.”

That made Virgil shot up, biting his lower lip, butterflies freaking out. “No.” It was his whisper.

“Oh, yes. ~” Roman practically purred on the speaker. “any last words, my dear, defenseless Giggly Storm?”

Virgil just giggled and Roman had almost forgotten how that sound only was enough to spread an explosion of a warm, good feeling on his chest. “Aw, and here I was thinking I would have at least some challenge today. ~” He continued to tease.

Silence.

“Go check your messages, Princeypie.”

And then he hung up. Roman fondly rolled his eyes, running to check the new notification on their conversation.

[Panic! At Everywhere sent a photo]

It was Virgil, sitting on his bed criss crossed, one elbow resting on his thigh as he took the picture on the body mirror on the other side of the room, a strong blush very visible on his face half hidden by the device, wearing a short and Roman’s red crop top. A new message popped right under the photo.

[P: Get your butt here and tickle me, Sir Sing a Lot.’]

This emo was going to be the death of him.

[D: Aww, I don’t even get a smile?]

[P: You gotta work for those, Princey.]

Virgil definitely did not jump nor yelp as he heard the low, dangerous tune of an “evil” laughter echoes in the house coming from the living room, the sound of the front door being closed making his flight instincts kick in.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Virgil was already halfway to the most far away room where he could escape, trying to keep his reputation as he heard another set of footsteps quickly getting ground and following right behind him. Laughter and squeaks mixed in the air.

“Because I will.” Roman answered.

#Very teasy #Teases #Lee!Virgil #Ler!Roman #Virgil is a brat and Roman is one as well #Ticklish!Virgil #Sanders Sides tickles #Sanders Sides tickling #Kanene's Fanfic #Kanene's Art #Kanene's fic #Brief self tickles #Feathers #blushy bois #Writing this kind of fic is very fun and sdfghertcvgbhn kind of silly as well #Virgil: Tickle me// Roman: Okay// Virgil: *NYOOOM*#I still don't know how to tag this dfghjsdfghdcf #I feel like my writing is a bit weird nowdays but yeah I'm still proud of this!

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coke-and-candy · 4 years ago

Text

A Little Competition Never Hurt Anyone: Part 2

Here is the long awaited part 2! Now available on FF.net and AO3! Links below. Tags @echpr, @realsquidinc, @teresarosiadeviluke2112, @geminikessa, @astridflies, @driftingmoonlitpetals, @bee-wrecker, @iglowinggemma28, @drarryismylife101, @mikantsume, @diamondheart31, @iggy-of-fans, @runadaemon, @northernbluetongue, @kristycocopop, @czgamz, @mysticsoulgirl, @silvergold-swirl, @queenmj10, @asstheticmangos, @thesunstormsolo, @writingishfanonsideblog, @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie, @seraphichana, @bnha-fanfic-recs, @katieykat513, @whatarubberchicken, @princess-of-fangirls, @marichat00, @mmwolf1605, @urbanpineapplefarmer, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @adalouise1987, @winterfury-10, @celestialtitania, @vixen-uchiha, @certainmuffinbagelcalzone, @satans-favorite-homo, @jardimazul, @chronois, @marinette-is-a-badass, @the-no-one-in-the-corner, @jessigurl-design, @kittycatwowmeow, @himevampirechan, @livelifeauthorstyle, @hufflejournals, @melhuney, @xxvanilla-thundaxx, @thewondersoflebanon, @enduskgragon, @rumbelle18, @natasha-barton

FF.net (link)

Part 1 (link)

Edit: Now on AO3 (link)!

Part 2

The Stakes

Today was the day!

Today was possibly the most important day of her whole LIFE!

Her chance to get that much closer to achieving her dream of being hard-hitting investigative reporter.

The first round of preliminary presentations and interviews—her one shot of making an impression on the judges—and Alya Césaire was determined to nail it.

She had worked up until the deadline in order to get her entry as perfect as possible. It hadn’t been easy to get the necessary information from Lila without tipping anyone off about the competition—but! in the end, she did. It was one of the reasons why Alya was already such a good reporter at such a young age. She knew how and when to ask the right questions. Even if it meant telling a few teeny tiny little fibs to keep everyone in the dark. A little poke and prod here and there, a little white lie about wanting to do little exposés on the Ladyblog about everyday Ladybugs and Chat Noirs… and boom! Lila had been more than happy to send her all the links to news articles and organization pages that mentioned her… Which were a lot—Lila really was amazing! And the deeper Alya got invested in her contest entry the more it that just solidified in Alya’s mind that she was doing the right thing.

Sure, she still felt a little guilty having to sometimes skip out of hanging out with Marinette in order to hangout with Lila to conduct her secret interviews. But it was ok! The ends would more than justify the means.

Besides… a few little lies never hurt anyone anyways…

Countless hours had gone into writing, researching, re-writing, editing, more editing, and practicing her presentation and interview answers (ok she was not quite sure what the judges would be asking but it never hurt to have some responses ready to go on the fly). All leading up to this moment!

Standing in front of the Le Monde Parisian headquarters, dressed in her best power outfit, presentation in hand, and her parents right there beside her to cheer her on.

Her mother and father both had taken time off in order to be there for her and Nora had even volunteered to watch the twins so that their parents wouldn’t have to worry and all of their attention could be on Alya today.

They walked into the bright, sleek, and modern lobby of the new building and towards the receptionist desk. The lobby was busy that morning, there were other couples there as well, most likely the parents of the other contestants that had gotten that fateful phone call and scheduled to present today.

They made their way over to the receptionist’s desk.

“Excuse me,” Alya said, doing her best to sound professional. “I’m here for my presentation for La CompétitionOlmpe de Gouges.”

“Name?” The receptionist asked.

“Alya Césaire.”

The receptionist typed away at her computer. “Ah! Here we are.” She looked up and directed the family towards the grand staircase on the other side of the lobby. “Go up the stairs to the second floor and then down the first hallway on your right, there you will see a set of black doors, room 202.” Alya nodded, simple enough instructions. “From there only the contestants are allowed in. Parents and all other family members will have to wait here in the lobby.”

“Thank-you,” Alya smiled politely, her parents also giving a polite nod of appreciation to the woman before following behind their second eldest daughter.

As Alya made her way to her destination, her journalistic eye could not help but take in her surroundings and the various other adults that filtered through the lobby, all in many different types of dress as well, ranging from khakis to exquisitely tailored suits to exotic styles from all over the world. Marinette had often spoken about how fashion gave an insight into different professional environments and the type of people who worked there. Alya was starting to understand what her friend had meant.

But thinking about the different clothing she was seeing reminded her of Marinette—which also reminded her about the last time they had spoken…

It would be an understatement to say that they had not parted on the best of terms.

They had gotten into an argument over the fact that the baker’s daughter was stubbornly refusing to hangout anywhere near Lila and how the only way they could all hangout together was if they straight up lied to her.

Which was what Alya had resorted to in order to have all the girls hanging together as a big group for once. Instead of always having to choose between hanging out with Marinette or hanging out with Lila.

The Ladyblogger wasn’t proud of her methods—but what else was she supposed to do?! She was desperate! All she wanted was for all of her friends to get along and have a great day together; hanging out, enjoying all that Paris had to offer for those lucky enough to live within her borders, and making happy memories together to be cherished…

Why couldn’t Marinette understand that?! Why did the pig-tailed girl have to be so, so... pig-headed!

The resulting argument between the two lycée students had gotten pretty heated and some pretty hurtful things probably would have been said had it not been for an Akuma attacking near where they had agreed to meet up.

But the damage had still been done.

That had been well over a week ago and Marinette was not speaking to ANY of them. She wouldn’t pick up her phone, refused to answer their texts, and even went so far as to asking her parents not to let any of them see her at home. Not even Adrien could get through to her! Every time he had tried approaching her, the designer would ignore him or actively avoid him anyway she could… even if it meant climbing out of a second story window. It was clearly having an effect on the whole class. It felt as if there was a dark cloud in the classroom, as if all the good things in the world have suddenly been cut off. Poor Lila was taking it the hardest and all the girls were doing their best to reassure her that it was not her fault and to cheer her up as best as they could.

It was clear to everyone that Marinette’s attitude was the one in the wrong, but the girl STILL would not see reason and Alya could not understand why!

Why was Marinette acting thing way?!

Why couldn’t she stop being so petty and jealous about Lila and give her a chance?!

Why was she being so stubborn and unreasonable?!

That’s why this day was so important on a more personable level. It would finally be the cold hard, evidence backed, and internationally backed panel of journalistic judges proof that would finally, FINALLY! Get through Marinette’s jealousy and delusions and at last show her that she had been wrong about Lila all along.

Maybe then, things could finally go back to normal and there would not be such a chill in the air during class…

Before Alya could sink further into the negative memories of the past week, her parents pulled her out of her thoughts and back to the present.

They had followed the receptionist’s instructions and were now standing in front of a pair of sleek black double-doors with simple polished steel handles, with the number 202 engraved on a spotless steel plaque next to them.

This was it.

“Good luck ti panther mwen an!” Her father enveloped her in a warm hug. His face beaming with pride as he handed his second oldest off to his wife so that she could have a turn in hugging their daughter.

“We are so proud of you!” Marlena Césaire gave her daughter a once over to make sure she was presentable for the umpteenth time, her smile beaming with pride. “Now you go in there and knock ‘em dead.”

“I will manman.”

“And remember to look them straight in the eye. Show no fear!”

“Of course papa.”

“We’ll be waiting in the lobby ok.”

With one final bone-crushing hug, Alya walked through the doors and as they closed behind her she took a moment to get a quick scan and layout of the room. It was a smaller waiting area with a few comfy looking black leather couches and there were already three other students, who looked to be about her age, sitting on them. Even though they were her competition, Alya still wanted to introduce herself. Who knows? Maybe one of them could be a valuable future colleague.

She immediately recognized one of them and instantly gravitated towards them with a wide smile.

“Mireille! Hey!”

The other girl looked up from the folder her hands, looking a bit surprised to hear her name and then broke out into a friendly grin as well when she saw who had called out her name. “Hi Alya! I didn’t know you were entering this competition as well.”

Alya nodded as she took a seat next to the junior weathergirl. “Yeah, I kind of wanted this to be a surprise since I’m doing my presentation on someone I’m really close to.”

“Really? Who is it?”

“Someone who fit the prompt for the competition to a T.” Alya couldn’t keep the pride in her tone for her friend seeping through as she began to list off her reasoning. “They’re naturally kind and giving person that has already achieved so much, despite being our age. Someone who knows what it means to carry on despite obstacles and never stops thinking about others. Someone who is sure to be one of the Greats of the future without a doubt.”

Hearing the conviction in Alya’s small speech Mireille couldn’t help but be impressed at the other girl’s confidence. But then again, Mireille thought she had a pretty good idea about just whom the auburn haired girl was talking about, but decided to go along.

“Wow, and does this someone know that you entered a presentation about them…?”

“Nope!” Alya popped the p at the end for emphasis. She gave the other girl a mischievous grin and leaned in to stage whisper for added dramatics. “It’s all going to be a surprise.”

Mireille let out a little giggle at her schoolmate’s theatrics. Alya always did have a lot of spunk to her.

“Anyways, how long have you been waiting? What time is your appointment suppose to be at?” Alya wondered, adjusting herself a little sit a little bit more professionally.

“Oh! I already gave my presentation; I’m just waiting for a text from my dad letting me know he’s here to pick me up.” Mireille replied, holding up her phone.

“Really?!” Alya immediately fell into her default Ladyblogger mode. “How’d you think you did, what were the judges like, what did—“

Before Alya had a chance to finish her rapid-fire questions, or for the now slightly frazzled Mireille to get a chance to respond, a young, well dressed man in his twenties came into the room with a tablet and interrupted her.

“Alya Césaire?”

“Yes!” Alya replied.

He held the door at the opposite side of the room open for her. “Please come on in and begin setting up what ever you will need. The judges will be with you shortly.”

Alya quickly stood and clutched her notes and the USB drive her work was on tightly to her chest, her heart pounding with excitement and nervous energy. “Well this is it. I’ll see you later at school ‘kay. Wish me luck!” She smiled at Mireille as she left the couch to follow the man to the judging area.

“Good luck, Alya!” Mireille waved cheerfully which Alya returned before the door was closed behind her.

Shortly after, the short-haired lycée student got a notification letter her know her father was now waiting for her at the front. As, Mireille made her way down the stairs to the main lobby; she couldn’t help but think how great it was that Alya was choosing to do this report about her friend. But honestly, it did seem like a very good choice.

There really was only one person that Mireille could think of that fell into the category that the other reporter hopeful had described. It was sure to really impress the judges that Alya actually knew and was close to someone like that, and her presentation on them would no doubt be amazing.

After all…

Marinette Dupain-Cheng really was a miraculous person.

_______________________________________________________________________

And there it is!

If I didn’t tag you, I’m sorry about that, send me a message and I will be sure to tag you for the next update.

I realized when I started brainstorming the next segment of this story that the connection from the first part to the climax was… lacking… and it was driving me CRAZY! I could not for the life of me figure out why the climax was not coming to me at all, I know what was going to happen and how but none of it felt right. That’s when I realized that the crescendo to that moment of truth that everyone is waiting for was not there. Therefore this story went from a two-shot story to a 3-4 part story.

So now we have the proper set up. Alya has submitted her work and is about to face the judges. Gee! I wonder what will happen...?

Let me know what you all think. Also this story is now on FF.net, so if you guys want go ahead and check out this story there so you can leave your reviews and comments. Till next time!

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sylvies-chen · 4 years ago

Note

Brettsey please “so not to be rude or anything but i’ve been coming to this cemetery at this time on this day every week for fucking years and i’ve always been alone up until now seriously what the hell” au

Ok anon I REALLY have to apologize because this request has been sitting in my inbox for probably a month or two now but I didn’t get the inspo to finish this until last night. That being said, I got this into a short little oneshot so I hope you enjoy!!

Tags: alternate universe, grief, mourning, light emotional hurt/comfort, meet cute

Word count: 2922

183 days.

It’s been 183 days since Sylvie last visited Julie. 183 days thinking about how things should have been different. How Julie was supposed to survive, how her and Scott and Amelia were supposed to be a family. How Sylvie was supposed to reconnect with her, to finally know the woman who had given Sylvie her own life’s blood.

She was supposed to have more time.

Instead, Sylvie ends up feeling like more of a stranger to Julie than ever. The last time she visited was the funeral, and that hadn’t done much for her in terms of closure. If anything, it made her feel more out of place. Random strangers came up to her, asking how she knew Julie. Sylvie can still remember the confused looks on their face as she’d told them Julie was her birth mother who had given her up at sixteen years old, and the awkward condolences that came stuttering out of their mouths afterwards. She’d felt too guilty eventually, and left early. Who the hell was she anyway, to be tainting everyone’s view of her birth mother at her own funeral?

She hasn’t been to visit Julie’s grave ever since. All Sylvie had done was stay with parents for a few days to clear her head. A few days turned into a few weeks, and then a few months. Today marks month six of her stay there. Her parents had told her they’d be happy to have her. They hadn’t been receptive to the idea of Sylvie meeting Julie in the first place, so they were more than willing to help her through the loss. The only condition was that she had to go to therapy and work through her grief, which Sylvie happily agreed to. But last week, her therapist suggested she visit Julie’s grave to get ‘true closure’, whatever that means. It’s a strange idea to Sylvie but nothing else seems to be working. Her boss had assured her that Fowlerton was much too peaceful (the polite way of calling the town boring, and rightfully so) and it would do just fine without its favourite paramedic for a few days. So, reluctantly, she accepted.

That’s why Sylvie’s now halfway through an hour-long drive to Chicago, all the way back to the cemetery. She buys hydrangeas at a tiny flower shop she passes by when she first enters Chicago territory. They’re Julie’s favourite. They were Julie’s favourite

Her fingers anxiously tap at the wheel when she finally pulls into the cemetery. It’s a dreary Sunday, grey clouds hovering in the sky bringing the prominent threat of rain. The graveyard is empty when she gets there, from the looks of it, except for one single person. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see a man around her age sitting on a bench near a grave, his eyes observing her curiously from over his shoulder. He’s not someone she knows-- she doesn’t really know many people here in Chicago after all-- but she ignores his lingering eyes. Shades of grey stick out against the field of green and wilted flowers are scattered across other tombstones. It feels like a ghost town, for lack of a better term. It’s gloomy and it looks like no one’s visited this place in a while. Even for a cemetery, the sight is a depressing one.

Sylvie slams her car door shut and takes a deep breath. Relax, she thinks. Just a quick drop by to see her, place the flowers, and then leave. You can get through this.

She makes a beeline towards Julie’s grave, less than 100 feet away, and stops dead in her tracks when she gets there. Her feet feel heavy in her pink rain boots, sticking out like a sore thumb against her black coat as she observes the tombstone.

Julie Walters

Loving wife and daughter

1973 - 2019

Sylvie doesn’t know how to feel reading those words. A whole life, one she only scratched the surface of, reduced to a mere four words and eight numbers. It’s underwhelming, and she doesn’t know whether to feel relieved that Julie’s entire being wasn’t etched onto stone or insulted that they could summarize her in so few words.

Maybe it’s for the best. What else would they put on there anyway: that she was a flawed human who left behind a child who she wasn’t ready to have, only to die before she could see her second daughter years later when she was finally ready for one? When she was finally ready to reconcile with her first born? Yeah, it was definitely for the best.

She places the bouquet of hydrangeas on the wet grass next to the tombstone and stands back. Man, this is harder than she thought. The words are there, racing in her head, but they don’t come out. Every time she wants to say something, it gets caught in the back of her throat.

Sylvie’s trying to pick from a list of infinite questions and countless ways to begin when she feels a chill on the back of her neck. At that moment, a voice comes from behind her. “Hi, are y--”

“Ah!” Sylvie shrieks, the voice startling her. She nearly jumps out of her skin as she turns around in shock, only to see a guy standing in front of her. It’s the same guy, she realizes, that had been staring at her earlier. Now, up close, she guesses that he can’t be all that much older that she is. He has blonde hair that’s short at the back and longer at the front, his eyes a soft shade of blue-green. His jacket and boots are a little worn but other than that, he looks completely normal. Except for the fact that he’s the only other person in this whole cemetery, and he just came up to her from behind without making a sound.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he assures her, his hands up in surrender.

“Oh, uh, it’s okay.” Sylvie lets out a big breath, shaking off the nerves from the jumpscare.

“Not to be rude or anything, but I just-- I’m usually the only one here,” he explains awkwardly.

“Are you a groundskeeper or something? I can leave if you guys need me to.”

“No no,” he laughs bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “I work in construction, actually. But I’ve uh.. I’ve been coming here the same time, every Sunday for years now to visit my dad. Nobody’s ever here when I am, so I figured you must be new.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss,” she offers. So okay, he’s not such a creep after all. Actually, he’s kind of sweet. “He must have been a really great dad, for you to be visiting him every week after all these years.”

“He… had his moments,” the man explains delicately. “Honestly, he wasn’t the most affectionate guy. I guess I just don’t want to end up like him. Jaded and cruel.”

Sylvie nods understandingly, because she gets it. Her parents are loving and supportive, but she’s had some exes that have put her through the ringer. Her first real love, Harrison, had been manipulative and heartless. She’s always hoped that these awful guys wouldn’t change her for the worse either.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying all of this. I’ll get out of your hair,” he offers. “But uh, here. Take this.” The guy holds out a single rose, which Sylvie accepts.

Her eyebrows narrow in confusion at the gesture. “A rose?”

“Yeah, well, my dad has been getting a dozen roses a week from my family since I was 17, he won’t turn over in his grave if he gets 11 just this one time. I’m sure whoever you’re grieving could use it a lot more than he could.”

Sylvie’s confused expression softens into gratitude, a faint smile pulling at her lips. This guy, whoever he is, didn’t have to do this for her. It’s a sweet gesture. He really does seem nice. No catches, no mind games, just simple and kind. She hasn’t met a guy like that in a while, at least not one her age. “That’s actually really sweet, thank you.”

“Of course.”

“I’m Sylvie, by the way,” she introduces herself awkwardly. Everything about this situation is awkward, frankly. But she extends her free hand anyway. “Sylvie Brett.”

“Matt Casey. I wish it were under nicer circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you.” His smile is wide as he takes her hand and shakes it. It’s confusing, but it makes Sylvie smile all the same.

“You seem awfully cheerful for someone who’s in a graveyard,” she observes.

“Like I said: I’ve been doing this for a while. I’m sort of all talked out now,” Matt explains with a shrug.

“Right,” she nods. “I wish I could relate. Normally I’m the one who’s cheerful and talkative, but it’s hard with this sort of thing. Everything I want to say just doesn’t seem to come out. Sometimes, I think if I start talking…”

“You’ll never stop?” He guesses.

“Yeah.” How did he know?

“Well I can tell you from experience that you definitely do stop talking at one point. I got all talked out two years ago. I looked around one day and realized I was talking about types of screwdrivers to my dad’s grave with no one else around. Eventually, you’ll run out of topics like I did. And then new ones will come, and you’ll talk some more, and then you get quiet again and then you just… stop talking.”

“I hope so. I’m a big talker-- I mean seriously, I never shut up-- but I just… I don’t know where to start with this one,” she explains.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who are you visiting?”

“Julie Walters.” She points to the tombstone in front of them. “My birth mother.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Sylvie’s heard those six little words before. She had to stomach every single insincere, fake utterance of sympathy when she was at the funeral. But for some reason, the way Matt says it to her makes her think he really means it. She’s not used to people meaning it when they offer their condolences. It’s strange. Then again, this whole interaction is strange. “It’s okay,” she brushes it off.

“It’s not. At least, it doesn’t have to be,” he soothes. Something about his voice is so horrifyingly comforting. It’s calm and low, and it feels like warm tea and honey in her ears. It’s enough to make her want to burst into tears right then and there .

Sylvie takes a deep breath and then, before she can stop herself, breaks the silence to ramble. “I love my parents, you know? They raised me, they fed me, they’re responsible for the person I’ve become. But I’d always wondered where I came from, why my birth parents gave me up for adoption. And when Julie sought me out, I panicked at first. I wasn’t ready to give up that fantasy in my head of who she was, to have all my questions answered. But now I’m standing here, visiting her grave for the first time in the six months since her funeral by recommendation of my stupid grief counselor, and I… I just can’t stop thinking of all the questions I was too scared to ask. And man, it sucks.”

Matt stands there and nods understandingly, his gaze unwavering even as she turns her eyes towards Julie’s tombstone.

“I’m sorry,” she continues, wiping tears from her cheek. “We just met, and I’m rambling, and--”

“No no, it’s good for you,” he assures her. “ And I don’t mind it, I-- I like hearing you talk.”

“Oh.” Sylvie looks around, unsure of what to say. This Matt Casey guy, whoever he is, hasn’t run for the hills by now which is strange to say the least. But weirdly, it’s comforting.

“You’re right, you know,” he continues, switching the subject. “It sucks. Life… life sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” she agrees, letting out a small laugh. This makes Matt laugh a little, which makes Sylvie laugh even more, until they’re both smiling and giggling in a cemetery like a bunch of blushing lunatics. It’s quite possibly the weirdest thing Sylvie’s ever experienced and yet somehow, it’s exactly what she needed. A bright light in the vast sea of darkness.

“You’re smiling again, that’s a good sign.”

“It is,” she agrees. “Am I crazy for that? I mean, I’m smiling and laughing in a graveyard with somebody I just met. Isn’t that weird?”

“A little,” he admits with a shy laugh. “But you’re not crazy. Sometimes people need a little bit of weirdness in their lives.”

“I guess stranger things have happened,” Sylvie shrugs playfully.

“Yeah.” He flashes her another smile before turning his attention towards Julie’s grave and facing it with her. Sylvie stares at the marked stone. She fondly remembers the few memories she had with Julie, and the countless ones they never got around to. It’s unfortunate, really, but it feels more manageable with someone there. Even if it’s someone she barely knows. Matt stands with her for a moment, the peace and quiet taking over. It’s nice. Sylvie’s never had silence be so comforting; it’s always made her anxious and uncomfortable up until now. Matt sure is a puzzling guy in that sense. She sneaks a peek at him through the corner of her eye, this guy who’s supporting her even though they just met. He’s lost someone too, he could be going back to his father’s tombstone. Instead, he’s staying there with her. Sylvie decides at that moment that Matt Casey is an unfailingly kind, weirdly solid guy. And, admittedly, a little attractive. Ok, a lot attractive.

“Hey, and don’t worry,” she adds after a few minutes of silence, “about being like your father. We aren’t our parents. And you seem… good. That’s all you can ask for I guess, is to be one of the good ones.”

“Thanks,” he nods, his eyes filled with a bit of confusion and a bit of something else Sylvie can’t quite place. Wonder, almost.

Sylvie turns back to Julie’s grave, tracing over the words with her eyes. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel so scary. Sylvie’s still sad, and wounds take time to scar over, but it doesn’t feel like she’s bleeding out anymore. She sighs, and she can sense the weight on her shoulders blowing away into the wind.

Unfortunately, when the sorrow blows away with the wind, it brings in the rain.

“Oh god,” Matt groans, wincing while looking up just on time to catch a raindrop in his eye. He squints and turns to Sylvie, who’s standing there laughing. “I didn’t see this in the weather forecast for today.”

“Me neither,” she giggles. “Today’s full of unexpected things, I guess.”

“It is.” He gives her a shy smile, nodding in agreement.

“Do you mind the rain?” She asks, looking up at the gloomy sky with a smile on her face.

“No,” he replies gently.

“Me neither.”

They stand there, hoods pulled away from their heads, letting the rain wash over them. There’s no shelter in sight anyway. They talk for a while about Chicago, about their lives, their friends, things that make them happy. But then they fall into a comfortable silence, smiling peacefully in the rain. Sylvie only moves a few times to brush raindrops off of the bouquet of flowers she’d placed at Julie’s grave. She looks at it, the name and the date etched in stone, and she doesn’t feel sick anymore. No questions unanswered, no bitterness. Her loss feels manageable.

She’s okay. More than okay.

“Hey, this might sound a little crazy, and I know we just met,” Matt starts after a while, “but would you want to… go get dinner or something?”

“What, like a date?” She snorts at her own joke, the idea being very nice in theory but impossible. It’s seriously impossible that this guy is actually asking her out, right?

“Er, yeah,” he nods. “Like a date.”

Oh. Okay, so he was asking her out. This is unfamiliar territory for Sylvie. She’s been asked out before, of course, by the small-town idiots in Fowlerton. But by an admittedly very good-looking stranger, under these circumstances no less? It’s a bit of a bizarre situation. That’s the crux of it, though. Matt Casey, whoever he is under all these sweet, charming layers, doesn’t feel like a stranger. Somehow, through one chance encounter, it feels like catching up with an old friend.

When she considers the facts, she’s had fun today. Every interaction they’ve had has come with such ease, and from a place of goodness and light. Yeah, maybe it’ll go absolutely nowhere. But one date in a public place won’t hurt her. She’s in Chicago for the rest of the weekend anyway. If anything, going out with someone like Matt Casey would do her a lot of good. And she hadn’t realized it until now but god, she really really wants to. So she does.

“I’d like that,” she finally replies while brushing rain off of her coat.

“Yeah?” He asks to make sure, his face lighting up with hope and slight excitement. Sylvie finds it adorable.

“Yeah,” she assures him.

He nods and grins excitedly as he leans in closer, and Sylvie feels the happiest she’s felt in a long time when he finally replies. “Me too.”

#this is a little rushed lol #also ik if i met anyone at a cemetary i would be weirded out but i tried to make this cute???#i just hope i was successful lol #brettsey #au prompt request #alternate universe #meet cute #light emotional hurt/comfort #mourning

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khorren · 4 years ago

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Fae's guide to Mad King's Lab.

Warning: Contains Opinions of a crispy 8 year vet who just wants everyone to have fun <3. It's a fun place, really! Bad groups make the baby Fae cry :(

First things first

Class to bring: Pick something mobile, tags a lot of things, and above all, mobile. Last year you'd see thieves and mesmers a plenty. Engies work too! Flamethrower and jump boots. Whee. A mediocre thief (that's me!) should have no problem with 500-600 bags an hour. If you're getting around a stack per half hour, you're doin' great. Even if you're getting a stack in an hour, that's cool. As long as you're having fun. You don't have to be OpTimAL on a damn festival farm.Just throwing out some numbers here!

Magic find! Go to your guild hall, and get the magic find buff from the tavern. Remember all those banners you got from the boss blitz event? Time to use em up! Halloween poops out magic find food and utilities, so don't really need to stock up before hand on these, just open a few ToT bags and you're good for the whole 3 week event.

Throw a Stamina and Speed sigil on your weapons. Endurance recharges like crazy, and speed sigil gives you all the swiftness. I refer back to point one. Be mobile. Be very mobile.

Don't be afraid to play with your traits. You're not looking for big DPS here, you're looking to tag things and be mobile.

Some groups will ask you to take off trinkets so your DPS isn't as high because you're one shotting things. The downside to this is when you fight Steve (The big skeleton with the chainsaw, we call him Steve. He looks like a Steve okay). It's polite to do this, or you can just be mindful and tag things once and move on. You only need to do like 1k damage to the mobs to get credit, you don't need to unleash your full raid ready DPS rotation. Tag and move on.

Autoloot mastery is key. If you're close to getting it, use this time before halloween to work on it. Otherwise you either end up leaving loot behind or you're the one left behind.

And most importantly, if you're new to the lab. Don't worry! It's not scary. It'll be a learning experience of how to keep up, and how to run in circles. You probably wont be pulling in big loot gains, but that's ok. Just learn from others. See what classes people are on, see what weapons they're using. Remember you’re scaled up here, so good time to level up a class :D

Getting into a lab instance! LFG fun times.

Lab can hold about 25 people. If you see a group in LFG with more than 25 people, just move to the next one. Or enjoy spamming "join instance" i guess? Commanders will generally keep their lfg up because numbers can dwindle pretty fast. Don't nag them to take their listing down. Just stop trying to join the big ones.

🚨🚨Controversy time! Alarm bells. Woo.🚨🚨 If you're there for profit, you want a lab that only does mob doors. Maybe vet doors at a push. But ignore "all doors" groups. Killing the big bosses takes way too much time. Sure you get some extra one per day loot, but you could have done like a full loop if not two in the time it takes you to to kill that stupid boss. No one is bringing their A game to fighting the bosses. People will die in droves to the Lich's Retaliation, and it's been 8 years and people still don't know to stand in the viscount's candy goo (but only a little bit) so they don't explode. Don't have high hopes for pug intelligence in the lab. Haha, looty man go brrrrr.You’ll sometimes get a daily to kill a boss, and that’s cool. Go do that.

And finally, when you join an instance and there's a group going on. Go join them. Don't open random doors, don't decide "i'm just gonna sit in the middle and afk farm!". By all means use a mount to catch up to the commander, but you MUST dismount, rather than use your number 1 skill to engage. You'll do too much DPS and be hated for the rest of the time you're in that group.Don’t be that guy.

Tips for commanders and everyone else.

For the love of god, go counter/anti-clockwise. When you get to the point of getting to the South East loot door, you do not want your zerg passing through the boss door just to the north. Because someone will have opened it and he'll just be chilling there. You do not want to pull your little brainless zerg through the boss to get to the mob door. Please, please, please go anti-clockwise.

Since you can't just do mindless loops on the outside, you have to go into the middle to give things time to respawn. Generally you want to go in either the north and south sides, or the east and west sides. Decide right now if you're gonna be a north/south or an east/west and stick to it. Basically go in to the middle at west, do a loop of killing the mobs there (please still go anti-clockwise) and head back out the west the way you came in. Then when you loop around to the east, go in to the middle and do a loop of mob killing there. Again, back out the way you came in. If you're taking over from another commander then try to keep the same pattern they did.

Don't try to outrun Steve. It's not gonna happen. If he appears, you go kill him. No buts. If you've told your group to take off trinkets, this fight will take a while.

You only need to go to the SW corner when the door is up, otherwise just take the little shortcut to the side.

Simialrly, don't go backwards. If a door pops and you're less than 5 seconds away, sure, maybe consider it. But everyone on that loot train is on auto pilot and watching netflix on their second monitor / mobile phone / tablet. You doing a 180 out of nowhere isn't gonna win friends.

And finally, commanders, give your groups a little break once in a while. We’re all responsible gamers here! Maybe after an hour just give em a 5 minute break up at the centre. Don't be salty if people still wanna farm the centre mobs though. General tips to everyone, if you need to go pee or whatever, just go find a safe place and go. The group will move on without you and that's ok, you'll catch up. The same goes for the commander. If you need to bail for 5-10 mins it's cool. Most groups can run on auto pilot. Maybe hand the tag to someone temporarily, just like, communicate with your group.

Tada. Yes I’m crispy when it comes to the lab. Thanks for asking. But yeah, some tips for everyone to have happy fun times.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#Guild Wars 2 #fae rambles about stuff #long post #GW2 Halloween

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 4 years ago

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Ships and Shells (Pt.1)

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There were a great many things that Virgil didnt know, how to solve complex math equations, how to balance a book on his head, how the ocean could be so close to him yet so obscenely far. Really that was what confused him, a title of 'Prince of the Seas' and yet he hadnt set foot near one once in his life.

For a kingdom based so heavily around aquaculture, it was rather odd that his parents seemed to fear water more than they feared the idea of poison in their goblets.

Of course, that didnt mean they'd halted the economy all together, oh no, it was perfectly alright for other people to do the dirty work of the oceans, so long as the nobility stayed away from it.

But that's the thing about keeping an eighteen year old boy trapped in an expansive palace with windows pointing out to a place he wasnt allowed to go. It never worked.

In the case of this particular rebellion, Virgil had strayed off nearly every day at night to watch the tides, to feel the water on his feet, to call out to the distant shore that seemed oh so welcoming when he wasnt allowed to accept its invitations.

And if he couldnt sneak out, he watched ships dock and leave from the harbor as often as he could, his mind swimming with ideas of what it might be like.

"But mother I dont want to go to my classes! The instructor is all boring and- creepy-" Virgil complained, dragging his nails along the table and pouting slightly.

"Well if you didnt want extra classes than maybe you shouldve paid more attention the first time," the queen responded coldly.

"Well how can I! You've placed the classroom right next to the ocean! If you wanted me to pay attention so badly why would you give me a view like that!" Virgil responded, throwing his arms up.

"Well I'd expect you to have a little more self control than that!" And that settled it, if Virgil's mother was mad, there would be no further questions. Virgil mumbled a bit before he stormed off to his classes, fidgeting with his hoodie strings as he walked.

Of course, he still didnt pay a single lick of attention, simply stared out of the window and cringed at his professor's comments until it was over.

And then it happened, he'd walked out of the study, and heard a loud crash from outside. He raced to a farther window, pressing his face against the glass.

A large black ship was docked in the harbor, and the harbor itself, was on fire.

Virgil had to duck as something hit the window, a quick look allowed him to recognize it as a grappling hook. So Virgil began to run as fast as he could, watching pirates was one thing, getting taken by them was another.

Unfortunately for Virgil, he was fast, but pirates with ropes were much faster. Virgil froze as he heard boots land on the floor in front of him, and attempted to turn back in the other direction, only to run into another pirate.

"Aaawwweee, poor thing, he thinks we're gonna hurt him doesnt he!" Said one of the pirates, cackling. Virgil looked up and spat in his face. The man blinked, pouting slightly.

"Well fine, since you want to be so rude about it, Janus? Roman?" The man looked over Virgil's shoulder, Virgil attempted to break into a run again, only for his arm to get caught by someone else. He swilling around and attempted to bite his captor, only to feel someone else press against his neck, his vision went spotty, and then faded entirely.

He woke up in a cell, the smell of salt water filled his nostrils, he had cloth wrapped around his mouth, wrists, and ankles.

"Terribly sorry for the lackluster greeting, we're not used to skittering mice," Virgil glared at the man standing outside of his cell.

"Gee, you could kill a man with those eyes," the man cackled. Virgil let out a low snarl.

"Oooohhh, I'm shaking in my boots!" The man leaned against the cell, lifting on leg up and propping it on a barrel behind him.

"Tell me, what exactly do you think you'll be able to do to me when you're stuck in there, and even if you were out, pompous prince like you couldnt even throw a proper punch," the pirate said with a grin, Virgil noticed silver fangs glinting at the front of his mouth. Virgil lunged at him slightly, only to end up falling on his face. The silver-fanged man let out another sickening cackle.

"And dont get any ideas about escaping, you're on Captain Remus Duke-Prince Kingsley's ship now, and you'll abide by my rules, or you'll find yourself hanging from a fish hook off the hull," the Captain's voice took on a sudden threatening tone that sent chills down Virgil's spine. Virgil watched as Remus turned on his heel and strode out of the room, wishing ever so intensely that he couldve broken his bonds and strangled the man before he even set foot outside the door.

It felt as though Virgil had been alone in that cell for hours before someone showed up, he was short, with messy auburn hair and bright green eyes. He looked guilty, sad even.

"Here's your food, I'll uh- get that cloth off now-" he stammered, slipping the tray through a slot in the cell, Virgil turned his back to the man, waiting patiently as he felt the man's fingers working through the cloth bindings. Almost as soon as he felt the last piece of cloth fall from his body he bolted upright and tried to push his way through the cage bars. The man who'd delivered his food gave him a pitying look, but didnt stop him. It wasnt until Virgil had managed to tire himself put and collapse onto the floor that he spoke.

"Well, I suppose if you're quite finished, youd like to ask questions, then?" He said, raising an eyebrow. His face was soft, even the mildly annoyed look spread across it now didnt take away from the rosy flush of his cheeks, nor the faint glimmer of his irises.

"Yeah, question one, what the hell do you think you're playing at," Virgil said, slamming his arm against the cage bars again, ignoring the vibration it sent through his body.

"Ok, dont get mad, which is probably a redundant statement since you already look like you're going to explode, but, I cant answer that particular question yet," he said, the guilty expression quickly resurfacing.

"Ok, sure, fine, can you at least tell me what you need me for? Because it clearly isnt a ransom or I'd already be dead," Virgil grumbled, smirking slightly at the worry this seemed to cause the man.

"Well uh, I dont have all of the details, but uh- well- Remus says- I think- we need your help with something? Like- finding something, he says we cant do it unless you're with us," the man stuttered, shifting his feet on the ground.

"Oh really? So if I were to- say, remove myself from the equation, you'd be at a loss hm?" Virgil said, the man let out a terrified squeak. Virgil gave a merciless laugh, for a pirate, whoever this man was, he was nowhere near as threatening as his captain.

"Well uh- yes- that's, how I assume it would work- but uh- I dont think it would be very beneficial to you either-" the man continued, his boots now tapping more frequently on the ground.

"You and I have very different ideas of beneficial," Virgil replied.

"Roman? Is everything alright my darling?" Virgil paused as he heard another voice, this one deeper, almost silky in tone.

"I'm alright Janus-" Roman replied, Virgil heard shuffling.

"Are you going to eat? I dont think it wise to starve yourself, after all, a prince of the seas die in the middle of the ocean? There are far less ironic alternatives, and with much more bravado than that," Janus said, Virgil muttered a bit before he turned to the tray, which was, by some odd miracle, still hot. He glanced in the direction of his co-captors to get a better look at the second figure. Janus was tall, with wavy brown hair that was parted to the right, the left side was shaved, there was a very prominent yellow snake skull drawn on the right side of his face as well, and he, to, had metallic fangs, though his were gold, and were visible even with his mouth closed, Roman, it seemed, had no such additions. Virgil eyed them both carefully before he started eating, and he hadnt realized how hungry he was till that exact second.

"And dont worry about excercise, you'll only be trapped here until we're in the next town, of course you wont be getting off the ship, so dont get any ideas," Janus said calmly.

"And what makes you think you can stop me?" Virgil said, glaring up at him.

"Who exactly do you think incapacitated you upon our arrival at the castle?" Janus said plainly, flexing his hands, upon which were gold accents that seemed to trace it like a skeleton.

"Well, enjoy your meal, and dont sit still for to long, it gets dreadfully uncomfortable for your joints to get that stiff," and with that, the pair were gone, Janus fixing his hat, and Roman clinging to Janus' arm like a lovestruck puppy.

And there was Virgil, alone, and very much unhappy.

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#cori writes #long post #ships and shells #ts remus #ts virgil #ts sides #ts janus #ts roman #tw kidnapping #tw drowning mention #tw suicide mention #roceit #romantic roceit #dukexiety #future dukexiety #romantic dukexiety #tw blood

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 3 years ago

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The Call Pt. 1

Summary: Marie is not crazy. She isn’t. Or she hopes she’s not. But the happenings that follow a mysterious phone call begin to make her hope otherwise.

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, maybe mildly creepy

A/N: Well, if you’re tagged it’s because you said you were interested in taking a peek at my original content. This is the first half of a short story I’ve been using as kind of a warm up/playground for a few weeks. Kinda hate the title (so if you’ve got suggestions hit me with them) and am open to literally all feedback! (If you want to know when I share original content lmk!)

“I’m not crazy. I know how this sounds but I am not fucking crazy!”

Funny enough, I’m also not an idiot. I know that screaming I’m not crazy at 4am after tearing my room apart to find a picture that apparently doesn’t exist implies otherwise. But still-

“I’m not crazy, Alex.”

“Ok. You’re not crazy.”

The way he’s looking at me really makes me wish I was.

“But Marie, what you’re asking me to believe-“

“Is crazy,” I say, collapsing on the edge of the bed.

I stare down at my hands. There used to be a scar on the left one, thick and rope-like carving a path straight through the center. The original wound had cut to the bone.

I know it was there.

I know because I remember how it didn’t hurt at first. It was like a dull warm sting, too many nerve endings cut to make my brain register what happened. I remember how I was fascinated by the blood welling, dark and thick and so different from any time I’d seen my own blood in my short 13 years. I remembered the drip, drip, drip.

And then I remember screaming.

“Marie…” He takes a deep breath, pacing away from the bed.

I don’t move, don’t respond. Just run my fingers over where the scar should be.

Another thing I remember is the choice I made that resulted in the scar disappearing. I remember that conversation, both sides of it like two images superimposed on one another.

Somehow, remembering those disparate, impossible, things so clearly only makes me more certain that I am not insane. Which may actually make the whole insanity argument stronger…

The first phone call happened on a random night in December. I was baking, trying to recreate those Levaine Bakery cookies and, honestly, not sucking at it.

I was not drinking.

I was not on drugs. None that I wasn’t supposed to be on anyway.

Everything was normal.

My phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize. Usually, I would have just ignored it but the area code was from my home town and I know far too many messy people back home to ignore an unknown call on a Friday night.

If someone was dead, I didn’t want to find out through a voicemail.

“Hello?” A muffled voice responded, warped by a shoddy Bluetooth connection. “Wait, sorry hold on.”

Fucking useless $100 earbuds.

“Hello?”

“H-hi… Hello.” The voice on the other end was clearly a kid, a little girl. I didn’t know any kids save for my nephew and he was eight months old so children should not be calling me.

“Yes?”

“Hi, ma’am,” the girl paused, clearly restraining a giggle. The line crackled in a way that sounded odd but I assumed she was just muffling the mic. “Did you order a pizza? This… This is Pizza Hut.”

I stifled a laugh of my own. Who knew kids still did prank calls. I thought those died off with the landline. Amused, I played along.

“No, I didn’t order a pizza.”

“Oh, well, I guess we called the wrong person. Sorry!” The kid hung up.

I shook my head and reconnected my earbuds. As far as prank calls went, I had my criticisms on their form but hoped they enjoyed themselves.

Quickly, I fell back into my baking rhythm, my audiobook of the week keeping any further exploration as to why kids would bother with prank calls when the internet existed at bay. At least until the book paused, accompanied by an off-putting crackle in one earbud.

“Motherf-“ My phone ringing interrupted my expletive.

I looked over, it was the same number.

I don’t know why I answered. Maybe I was getting soft after 30 years of being, by default, a cold bitch—I had been crying at far more commercials recently. Or maybe the novelty of a prank call was too good to pass up.

“Hello.”

For a moment there was silence. Then, someone breathing. Something about it made me feel uncomfortable. Not in the whole, I’m calling from inside the house, kind of way. More like the feeling you get when you almost fall asleep at the wheel, the adrenaline rush of waking up just in time.

“Hello?” The breathing quickened. “Look, kid-“

She started speaking. Rather, she started making sounds, gibberish with the inflection of words. After a string of them, she paused.

“Uh-huh, well then,” I said choosing to humor them.

This was followed by another string of gibberish. Only this sounded more frantic, there wasn’t the undertone of laughter. They stopped.

“Kid, are you ok?” I began to worry.

“Em raeh uoy nac?” She said with the inflection of a question. I realized suddenly that this may not be the same person. There was something similar about the voice but it didn’t sound as young as my pizza prankster from earlier.

“Look, this is just getting weird. Don’t-“

“On!” The person yelled into the phone. “On! On! Esaelp!” The voice cracked, a stifled cry sending chills up my spine.

On… On… On… Something clicked.

No. This person was saying no.

Maybe I am crazy. Because the moment I realized the words were coming to me backward they righted themselves and the person began speaking in the proper direction.

“Please, don’t hang up.” She took a ragged breath, “Please.”

Sitting on the edge of my bed now, staring at my scarless palm, I could still feel her desperation.

“Marie,” Alex knelt in front of me, eyes wide and pleading. “I have known you since we were 15. You’re my sister and I love you.” He takes my hands in his own, sighing, “You’ve been under a lot of stress recently and that-“

“Jesus,” I pull my hands back getting to my feet, and push past him. In the doorway to my bathroom, I pause, turning back to face him. He now sat on the floor with his back against my bed.

“I’m just saying, maybe it’s all been too much. That’s all. There isn’t any shame in that.”

“I know there isn’t. Don’t you think I, of all people, fucking know that?!”

I mean for fucks sake, I was the head of HR at my company. I had a bachelor’s in counseling and a master’s in communications. Not to mention years of therapy under my belt. I understood what stress could do to someone’s mind and I understood that this wasn’t that.

“Ok,” he holds his hands up in surrender. “Ok. Sorry. I know you know. But you want me to believe you’re really ok when you-“

“I don’t want you to believe shit. You asked me what was happening. I’m just telling you.”

He studied me, trying to find something to hold on to, some way to believe me.

For a moment I studied him too. Burning this image of him into my mind.

This was real. He was real. Just like everything else was real.

On that first night, the shock the voice on the other end of the line sent through my whole body was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

“Please be there,” she begged.

Our own voices always sound weird when we hear them played back. Something to do with the way sound travels through the body. The way it resonates in our bones. It’s easy to not even recognize our own voices when we hear them.

“I called this-“

“You called this number 10 minutes ago,” I cut her off, my unease giving way to anger. “What do you want? If you’re in trouble-“

“I called this number when I was eight,” that edge to her tone was too familiar. “I’m 15.”

“Hilarious, kid. Find something better to-“

“0606.”

“Yup, that’s the last four digits of the number you just called. Owned by a woman who is very-“

“Those are the last four numbers of the cell phone I got when I was 13.”

“Very funny.” I had no idea who had put her up to this but I was over it. “I’ve had this number for 17 years.”

“I always thought it was funny because I remembered those numbers ever since I made that prank call. Funny that they’d be the last four of my own number.” Her voice had a disconnected quality to it. I rubbed my finger over the scar on my palm, a nervous habit.

“Kid-“

“Wait,” she cut me off, something which was starting to wear on me. “You said 17 years. How… how old are you.”

“Thirty,” I answered automatically.

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Ancient to you I’m sure.” The timer went off for my cookies. “Look. If you’ve sated your gen alpha need to dip your toes into the nostalgia pool-“

“So, I don’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“On April 13th, 2006 you decided you would kill yourself you your 16th birthday.” My heart stopped. “Maybe you don’t remember that…”

I remembered it.

If I tried I could remember the way my room smelled. I could remember how my hands didn’t even shake as I wrote those words in my journal. I could remember sitting on my bed, picking up my phone…

And calling my own number.

I looked down at my phone. I’d only paid attention to the area code before, nothing more than a passing glance. Now I realized, it was my grandparent’s old landline number.

She continued, “Anyway, I just called my own number to-“

“Leave a voice mail,” I said finishing her thought. It was my substitute for a note, something that if they found they found but if not then fuck them.

“Yeah. But instead of it going to voicemail, you answered. My phone is sitting in my lap but you answered. And I remembered your voice from when I was eight and…”

“What the fuck,” I breathed.

“I don’t know…”

My head was spinning. I had never spoken to anyone save for my therapist about my intention to end my life when I turned 16, so it seemed unlikely someone was playing a cruel joke. But it was even more unlikely, or rather completely fucking impossible, that I was currently speaking to my 15-year-old self.

“Look,” I sank to the floor of my kitchen, sliding my glasses up so I could massage away the tension headache building between my eyes. “Clearly, you’re not me. But it’s pretty obvious that you’re in a bad way.” There was silence.

“Kid?”

“I’m here,” the voice was so small.

“I don’t know what you’re going through, but the best advice I can give you is the same advice that my best friend gave me when we were your age. ‘If you can’t find any other reason to keep going, just do it out of spite.’”

To this day, do it out of spite, was the motto we lived by. I embroidered pillows for us with it, we signed off letters to one another with it when he took a year to wander Europe with his ex, hell we got the word ’Spite’ tattooed on our wrists in the other’s handwriting when we were 19—thanks to Alex’s terrible handwriting people always asked me why I had ‘Sprite’ tattooed on my wrist.

She snorted.

“I know it sounds oversimplified but-“

“No. I’m just not into listening to people who don’t take their own advice,” the anger in her voice was searing.

“What do you-“

“Alex Cameron, said the same thing to me yesterday.” My ears started ringing, my whole body tingled like a limb when you’ve sat on it for too long.

“Then,” she took a shaky breath, “he killed himself.”

My smoke alarm began to scream, the smell of burnt sugar seeping from my oven.