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yunahosk · 3 years

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limerence | yan zhongli x reader

ai ai ai, i’ve never tried writing before so this is a first (and ofc i picked zhongli to seduce him to come home), if all goes well possibly i’ll do another!

apologies for poor english and grammar, i speak dutch, im trying hehe.

warnings: blood, violence, mentions of public death/ exec*tion, mentions of death, stabbing (in leg and arm), obsessive tendencies, forced relationship, yandere content

please let me know if i missed anything!

limerence: the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person

“Thank you for providing me your kindness, Mr. Zhongli.” You smiled, letting your hands slowly wrap around the porcelain cup adorned with designs of gold. It seemed to fit the man’s mysterious aura: truly lavish.

After an encounter, more so a dilemma with a small village in Liyue which left you seconds away from your inevitable fate of hanging by a rope. To be fair, sure, possibly you shouldn’t have accidentally set fire to half the village. But having a pyro vision has its downsides too, no?

Although it left you questioning why it seemed he had such an impact on the small village, all the mattered is that you still sat in flesh and bone and not six feet under.

Truly, he was a kind man, even inviting you into his abode for a cup of tea and a residence for the meantime. You were an adventurer from Fontaine, traveling to all the seven nations in search of, well nothing. Armed with only a pyro vision and a spear you were determined to travel the world. Liyue Harbor was just one of your many stops, and to your delight it was truly a fascinating and astonishingly beautiful place.

“Ah, there’s no need for formalities. I do think we are well acquainted by now.” He hummed, observing how you lifted the cup to your lips, your eyes widening as the scorching substance hit your tongue. You quickly placed the porcelain cup down, a light laugh emerging from your lips as a smile soon followed.

“Really, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” Resting your finger tips upon the cup and frowning as you stared at the liquid in deep thought.

“I’d give you my life if I could.” You laughed, furrowing your eyebrows with a sigh.

“We could arrange for that.” Your eyes widened, staring down at the cup of tea with a dumbfounded expression. Quickly composing yourself, a laugh quickly arose from your mouth, though sounding more panicked than natural.

“Ah, I didn’t imagine you’d be a man of comedy.” You chuckled, cocking your head to the side and letting your hand fall from the cup down to your waist, toying with the pyro vision by your side. Sure, you weren’t in danger, just force of habit.

“I’m afraid I do not understand.” There go the wide eyes once again.

“Oh- your comment, before?” You looked up, now gripping the red orb by your side as more of a safety precaution than anything, worry seeping through your bones but that stupid voice in your head told you Mr. Zhongli couldn’t hurt a fly. Tension rose in your throat, watching as his amber orbs slowly gaze over your expression.

“Ah, I see.” A wave of relief washed over your body. Social cues truly aren’t just his thing. We all have our quirks though, no?

“You don't take my word?” He hummed, furrowing his eyebrows. The 10 seconds of relief now came crashing down, setting you back to your state of panic.

“I do believe it is a fair trade. On my part, saving your life from harm and death and as for your part, giving me yourself in return.” He wasn’t joking.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve got to be mistaken. We had no such agreement before this!” You raised your voice, listening as a hum of what seemed to be displeasure released from his mouth. He lifted his hand, bringing it to his chin as if in thought. “I do value fairness greatly.”

“You’re out of your mind, no part of this is fair! There was no mention of such a thing?” He seemed to be confused, taking in your words.

“Ah, you seem to misunderstand. I simply intend to establish a marriage. To bind you to my side, for eternity that is.” Well, now it was your turn to be confused. “Marriage? Goodness gracious, we met, what? Two days ago? My apologies Mr. Zhongli, but in no way do I intend to marry you. I haven’t a clue what you speak about.” You stated, rising from your seat and preparing for your departure.

“That does not seem like a wise choice, Y/N.” Your body tensed, was this a threat? No. You are fine. A huff of breath released from your mouth as you readied yourself once again, walking towards the door and making your departure with no more exchanged words.

“What a shame.” Zhongli hummed with a frown, staring at the door you’d made your sudden leave from.

Putting the events of a few days ago behind, it truly was difficult to leave Liyue Harbor. Residents of the city were welcoming and kind, helping a foreigner with open hands. Though all good things must come to an end at some point.

As you traveled your way through Liyue, passing by ruin after ruin the thought of your soon adventures in Mondstadt seemed more intriguing by the second. Maybe you do get excited too easily, but you can't help the way your daydreams take over reality. It does make time fly by faster though.

After days of travel through a variety of terrain, soon you find yourself at Wangshu Inn, looking for a night's rest. It does seem as though everything in Liyue is elegant, and this place is most certainly no different. To say the least you were excited to stay in such a place.

With your bag in hand, you slowly make your way across the balcony of the building towards your room, letting your eyes gaze upon the stars in the sky. A sigh releases from you as you stop your short walk and make your way towards the edge of the balcony, staring up at the stars in all their glory.

In sight is Celestia itself. Perhaps one day you could visit. After all, this is only the beginning of your adventures. With so many more to come maybe you could ascend there one day.

“Pathetic.” The words catch you off guard as your eyes widen, quickly turning to meet the raspy voice only to find yourself knocked to the ground, your belongings and spear shoved to the side. An excruciating pain made its presence upon your leg and as you let out a loud groan, you open your eyes and are met with a black and teal-haired man staring down at you with a malicious glare.

Your eyes widen in horror as you look down to the source of the pain: a large spear present in your calf leaving you to watch as blood seeped out. The agonizingly slow speed as to which he pulls the spear from your skin makes tears surface upon your eyes. And soon after you find the tip of the same spear pointed at your neck.

“Who are you?” You muttered through gritted teeth, glaring at him with watery eyes. It hurt so bad, more pain than you’d ever felt before.

“It doesn’t concern you as to who I am, you are only a mere mortal.” Your breath hitches as you scan over his body and take sight of the mask on his side.

“Y- you’re an adepti?” You whispered, your voice shaky. “Aren’t you supposed to be protecting hum-”

A cry of pain releases from your mouth as the spear once pointed in your neck now finds itself sunken into your thigh.

“Did I say you could speak?” His voice is raspy, it sounds as though it’s strained from screaming, but you’re the one screaming. Tears fall from your eyes as you wait for your fate to be sealed. Beside you you can hear footsteps upon the wooden balcony, a surge of hope rushes through you only to come back down to horror as quickly as it lasted.

The same deep hum you’d despised now evident once again.

“It seems you are in trouble?” It was as if he was asking a question more than making a statement as if you weren’t sitting in a pool of your own blood with a spear pointed at your throat. You reach your arm out in a desperate attempt to grasp your spear, biting your lips to stop the sobs from spilling once again.

“Zhongli, please-” In your arm this time the spear plunges down on.

“Do not speak to Rex Lapis in such a disrespectful manner.” The adepti snaps, glaring down at you. Silence surfaces as your sobs grow louder, and soon you find yourself coming to realization.

Rex Lapis? No no, there has to be a mistake. But it all makes sense? The same man who took you in so humbly now kneels beside you watching you suffer. Is this who Rex Lapis, the god of contracts and war truly is?

As he kneels by your side, his gloved hand delicately makes its way down your cheek, wiping the tears from your face.

“Please help me.” You whisper, you sound truly pathetic. But you’d rather look pathetic than give up on life so easily.

“I’ll do anything.” You ever so quietly whisper out. You knew you didn’t want what would come next, but you couldn’t give up. Not yet.

“Anything?” He hums as if he found the scene before him amusing. The eye contact made between his amber eyes and your e/c orbs sends shivers down your spine.

He truly wants this. He’s crazy.

You find yourself nodding your head in hesitance, you don’t want this.

“Y/n, do you agree to stay bound to my side in marriage for eternity?” Your breath hitches, eyes widening in horror, there’s no going back on this. There truly isn’t.

Is this worth your life?

“Yes.”

#yandere zhongli #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin #yuna’s fics

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rocorambles · 4 years

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Redemption

Pairing: Ushijima x Reader

Genre: NSFW, Fluff and Smut

Warnings: Slight Size Kink

Summary: When you find out Ushijima is a virgin, you offer to be his first and help him out. But in reality, you might be the one who needs some help.

Requested by Anon

There’s a comfortable quiet atmosphere between the two of you as Ushijima hands you a clean towel while you pant for breath. Technically speaking, there’s no reason why the two of you need to be together today on one of the few days the Schweiden Adlers had off, but you had a soft spot for the pro-athlete, so when he had asked if you wanted to go workout together at the team training gym, you agreed. You couldn’t deny you needed some exercise. Being a team manager didn’t mean you worked out much yourself, so you looked forward to sweating some extra calories. But you really should have known better than to expect just a normal workout with Ushijima sternly overseeing your routine.

“Ushijima, you do realize I’m not a pro-athlete like you, right? You can’t expect me to keep up with you.”

“Anyone can do anything if they set their minds on it and work hard enough.”

You roll your eyes before fondly looking at the tall man beside you. Was he a little dense and a little too blunt? Sure. But you saw the heart of gold and genuineness within him. You’d always wondered why the man was still single. You know he’s sometimes an idiot when it comes to social cues and can’t hold small talk to save his life, but you’d seen far worse and less deserving men end up tricking some poor damsel into their spider webs. Surely you’re not the only one who sees the diamond in the rough that Ushijima really is?

You don’t realize you’re intensely staring at him until he uncomfortably shifts. “It’s rude to stare.” You blush and quickly turn away from him, opting to chug your water as a distraction. Checking your phone, you gasp when you realize how late it is. “Shit, sorry, I really need to run…” You trail off and Ushijima narrows his eyes at you as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. He’s all too aware that the look doesn’t mean anything good for him.

“What are you doing tonight?”

There’s a long pause before he grunts out “nothing” and you suddenly seem more intimidating than any opponent he’s faced across the net when your eyes light up and your head moves until it’s only inches away from his own.

“Cool! So you’re going to a party with me then.”

He blinks once at you before completely shutting you down with a resounding no. But really, after knowing you and working in such close proximity with you almost every day, he should realize how relentless you are once your mind is made up.

“When’s the last time you talked to anyone outside of the team, coaches, trainers, and managers? And Tendou doesn’t count since he’s still technically volleyball related.”

Ok, so maybe you had a point there.

“We don’t even have practice for the next few days! So you’ll have time to rest up and recover and be totally back to 100% for the next practice.”

You smile when you see his determined look slip a bit, but your jaw drops at his next words. “I’m not going to a party where you’re just going to ditch me to have sex with someone and then either complain or brag about it to me the next day.”

You frantically cover his mouth with your hands as you nervously look around to make sure no one around had heard him. “USHIJIMA! I tell you these things because I expect you to keep quiet about them. Not just blabber it out for everyone to hear.”

He impassively stares at you and you sigh as you remove your hands from his face before determinedly looking at him again. “But actually since you’ve already brought it up, I noticed you never have any spicy stories to tell me! It’s not fair if I’m the one who’s always sharing. When’s the last time you even had sex? It has to be stressful to not let off some steam in a more enjoyable way than volleyball.” (Although you secretly wonder if Ushijima finds volleyball more pleasurable than sex. You wouldn’t doubt it.) But you squint as he suddenly seems less stoic than usual and...are his cheeks pink?

“Ushijima, are you embarrassed? I literally tell you about all my sex exploits and you’re embarrassed by me just asking you when the last time you did it was?” Your voice trails off when a suspicion begins to form and your eyes soften as you more gently nudge him. “It’s okay if it’s been a long time. I know how busy you are. It’s not a reflection of you, I promise. But isn’t that more reason to come out with me tonight?” He mumbles something and you lean in, unable to make out the words, but when he repeats them, you freeze.

A virgin? Ushijima was a virgin?

You know you should say something instead of just staring at him like an idiot, but shock numbs you and only when he makes a move to get up and leave do you hastily grab his arm. Your mouth flounders as you try to come up with a response, but when you observe how vulnerable and sensitive the topic seems to be for him, your heart goes out to your friend and you shake the lingering surprise from you.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. I think it’s kind of sweet actually. Your first time should be special, with someone you really care about. You shouldn’t ever feel ashamed about the fact that you haven’t done it. Hell, I wish I hadn’t been so quick to lose my virginity to some asshole in college.”

You smile when you see his shoulders straighten and maybe it’s the slight upturned twitch of his lips or maybe it’s the way dark olive eyes glow when they look at you, but you don’t even register the words that come tumbling from your lips until they hang heavy in the air.

“I could be your first if you wanted.”

You are a fucking idiot. You scramble to figure out a way to take back those words, already preparing for Ushijima to angrily end any friendship the two of you had, already dreading how you’re going to manage a team when one of the starters hates you. Your mind is reeling so hard from the dark future you’ve painted for yourself in your head that you almost miss what Ushijima says.

“Okay.”

Suffice to say, all plans to go to your party fly out the window and you send an apologetic text to your friend. Ushijima and you go to your respective locker rooms to wash up and freshen up before trekking back to your apartment. The walk isn’t uncomfortable per se, but there’s an electric energy radiating between the two of you as you walk silently next to each other. And shit, you’re not the virgin, but why is your heart beating so hard and so fast that you think it might literally explode from your chest? You scowl at yourself as your hands tremble when you unlock and open your front door and when Ushijima’s back is turned to you as he removes his shoes, you mentally slap yourself to get it together.

With renewed confidence, you firmly grasp his larger wrist and tug him along to your bedroom where you gently push him onto the bed. You take a moment to revel in the power you feel from being in charge of the stronger, larger man underneath you and arousal stirs within you from Ushijima’s submission and willingness to let you have your way with him. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him and your heart warms as you lean down to softly kiss him, smiling against his lips when you feel him tentatively reciprocate. Kissing Ushijima feels like what you imagine completing a satisfying day's work on the farm feels like. You can almost taste the sturdiness, the comforting warmth of a fireplace burning as you return from the fields, and the authentic, humble roots on his lips. There’s no frills, no pretenses. It’s purely Ushijima and you love it.

You think you could spend all night just kissing him if you wanted to, but you remind yourself of tonight’s mission. You trail your fingers down his chest until you reach the hem of his shirt which you begin to roll up until it reaches the top of his torso and he helps you fully remove it. Sitting upright on his thighs, you can feel yourself salivate as you take in the broad expanse of his upper body on display for you. You’ve seen it before, but in the dim light of your bedroom and splayed across your bedsheets, it’s mesmerizing and you can’t help the way you unconsciously run your hands across every inch of taut muscle and kiss random lines across chiseled lines. You smirk when you feel Ushijima’s groin thrust up when you coyly flick a nipple with your tongue and you stare at him as you begin to suck on the hardening bud, drinking in the sight of the usually reserved man letting out breathy moans as you continue your ministrations.

You want to tease him more, coax more sounds out of him, but the feeling of something hard prodding your stomach keeps you moving on and you pointedly tug on the waistband of his pants until he gets the memo and raises his hips to allow you to remove everything until he’s completely bare before you. And any confidence you had built up shatters.

If you’re entirely honest, you’d had your fair share of wet dreams imagining what Ushijima was hiding underneath his shorts, but when faced with reality that’s somehow even larger than anything you had even dreamt of, you bite your bottom nervously as your pussy clenches at the thought of trying to fit him inside of you. You’re not sure if it’s lust or nerves that has your stomach twisting as you wrap a hand around his impressive girth. Probably both, you think, as your throat goes dry and your thighs squeeze together when you see how your entire fist barely covers less than half of him.

Your attention is brought back to the man underneath you when you hear a low groan as you stroke your fist up and down his shaft, giving some extra attention to the leaking slit at the tip. Your other hand reaches underneath your panties and circles your clit. You’ll need to be absolutely drenched before you can even think of trying to take him. But it’s not hard for your cunt to become a sopping mess when you stare in awe at the way Ushijima writhes underneath you, releasing low breathy pants and grunts that you can feel rumbling throughout his body. Already feeling a wet spot seeping through your clothes, you affectionately kiss him once more before briefly getting up to quickly strip down. His eyes hungrily devour the sight of your naked figure as you crawl back above him and adjust your position until you feel his tip nudging at your entrance.

You close your eyes and moan as you slowly lower yourself onto him, but even as wet as you are, you can barely take half of him inside you as he stretches you far beyond any person or any toy has. Yet, despite the discomfort and borderline pain of the stretch, you feel even more of your arousal dripping down your thigh as you continuously lift and lower yourself, always pushing slightly harder, slightly further than where you’d been before. Your eyes roll back from the feeling of being so full and your nails dig into Ushijima’s shoulders as you desperately continue to work his entire length into you. But you reach your limit and you swear you can feel him inside of your womb even though there’s still about a quarter more of his cock waiting to penetrate you. You take a deep breath and exhale as you try to sink further down, but you let out a broken moan when fingers twist and tug your nipples.

Ushijima intensely observes you as he kneads your fleshy mounds, playing with your hardened nubs until he sees the tiny furrow on your forehead smooth out. He sits up and bends his neck to soothingly kiss you. A primal instinct in him had been entranced at the sight of your much smaller figure struggling to take just a part of him and he had to use every bit of will power he had to not instantly cum at the feeling of your warm and wet walls squeezing around him. But when he saw the hints of pain you tried to push past written all over your face, a desire to make you feel only pleasure had overtaken him.

He continues running his fingers across your chest as your tongues twist and turn against each other and you moan into his mouth as you reach a hand down to furiously rub against your clit until you feel another surge of arousal and more fluids run down your inner thigh. You guide his hands to your waist before continuing to rub your clit and you urge him to help you as you clash your lips against his once more. But you tear away from his mouth in a silent scream as he grabs you and forcefully pushes you down and down until your lower bodies press tightly against each other, any space between them removed. Ushijima’s eyes are glued to your face and he takes in the way your eyes widen and your jaw drops open as you claw at his arms, leaving angry red trails as your body tries to adjust to literally being stuffed full. He patiently waits until your nails stop their frantic clawing and he drops his forehead to your shoulder with a groan as you begin to rock your hips up and down.

He can feel the sloppy mess you’re making as you continue to flood the sheets underneath with your seemingly never ending arousal, but he can’t bring himself to care as your pace speeds up until you’re practically bouncing in his lap as you desperately chase your end. You scream when he tightens his grip on your waist and assists you, slamming you down and easily picking you up before slamming you down again, perfectly matching your rhythm until everything blends together and you don’t even know who’s doing what anymore. All you know is the feeling of Ushijima’s cock sliding and pressing against every inch and every crevice of your pussy, filling you so well you wonder if you’ll ever be satisfied with anything else inside of you after this.

You can’t even bring yourself to feel ashamed by the wanton wail you let out as you reach a higher peak than you’ve ever reached before and your entire body shakes with pleasure as Ushijima continues to lift and lower your body even without any support from you until he harshly pushes you down one last time and holds you still as he releases thick spurts deep inside of you, so deep that even in the haze of your orgasm you’re grateful you’re on birth control because you’re sure he’s coating your actual womb with how far inside he seems to reach. You slump into his chest and let yourself be maneuvered by him until the two of you are lying side by side, facing each other, your lower bodies still intimately connected.

The two of you lay there for a while and you instinctively nuzzle your face into his chest as his arms tenderly wrap around you, pulling you even closer to him and you both take quiet comfort in the sounds of your heavy breaths filling the air. But when your heart beats slow and your breathing evens out, you cringe in embarrassment.

“Ushijima, I’m so sorry. This was your first time. I should have been the one taking care of you, but you ended up needing to step in and take charge.” There’s a stretch of silence before you feel one of his arms move and a hand lightly nudges your head up to look at him. Your heart flutters when you see the most gentle smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

“Wakatoshi. Call me Wakatoshi.”

You see a flash of uncertainty in his usually confident eyes as he hesitantly inches his face closer to yours, but you grin as you meet him halfway and your lips slot against each other like two puzzle pieces perfectly connecting. You close your eyes and relish the peaceful moment for a bit before using the element of surprise and pushing against him until he’s on his back underneath you once more. You playfully clench your pussy walls and smirk at the way he throws his head back and hisses at the feeling. You can feel him begin to harden once more inside of you and when he looks back at you, you shoot a wink his way.

“Let me redeem myself, Wakatoshi.”

#haikyuu smut #ushijima x reader #ushijima #haikyuu fic #haikyuu #haikyuu writing #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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petri808 · 4 years

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This fic was created for the BKDK Unbirthday Party on Twitter for prompt #G-0209 submitted by Maela

‘And three... two... one...’

“Ground Zero!!!!”

Cue the screaming fans like clockwork. Izuku screws on his trademark smile as he walks behind his childhood friend and colleague Katsuki Bakugou into the agency. It never failed after media coverage of an event for fans to gather. In fact, it became such a problem that the company brought in extra security to keep the people from following the hero’s inside. It’s not that the fans bothered him, of course not. He of all people knew what it was like to be a dedicated admirer of heroes. It was...

“Ground Zero I wanna have your babies!”

“Call me, Ground Zero!” Another one screams as she tries to shove a piece of paper in Katsuki’s hand.

Because of that.

Izuku had plenty of his own fans. By the time they’d graduated from UA Academy, he’d mastered his quirk and as a pro was consistently vying for the number one hero spot. Him and Katsuki. From rivals to partners, they took on the worst villains to plague Japan. It was even why they worked for the same agency as adults. The hot head insisted they stick together no matter what because, ‘you need me nerd, to keep you focused.’He couldn’t argue the logic and maybe a part of him wanted to stick with his friend. They knew each other better than anyone else and once their bitter background had been squashed it was to their benefit.

Of course, Izuku couldn’t blame the fans for fawning over the handsome blonde with piercing red eyes. Katsuki had always kept up his physique to handle the rigorous power of his explosion quirk. Strong and agile, and from what he hears around, is very good in bed too. The man’s temperamental attitude didn’t sway the diehard female and some male fans from throwing themselves at his feet.

“Haha, one more to add to my collection,” Katsuki snickers and shoves the piece of paper with the phone number into his pocket. The women meant nothing to him, but he never missed an opportunity to gloat to his buddy. He slaps Izuku hard on the back, “what about you Deku, any action?”

“Why? Dealing with you is exhausting enough Kacchan,” he retorts with humor to his tone. Deep down Izuku was irritated, but he rarely showed it in front of the man.

“Tch. Wanna share one night? I bet she’d do anything I ask her to do.”

“No, thank you. She’s not my type.”

“And what is your type, nerd? In 20 years, I’ve seen you go out on like one date and I don’t even remember what she looked like.”

‘That’s because it never happened.’ “I’m just... not interested right now.” Izuku Midoriya wasn’t a virgin, but he’s never been in an actual relationship before. Twice he’d fooled around, once with Uraraka and another time Todoroki during his ‘finding himself’ stage and that’s when he’d realized that one, he was strictly gay, and two, no one else made his heart race like a certain blonde did.

But as far as he knew, Katsuki was as straight as they come even though he had no proof either way to confirm or deny. It was all circumstantial evidence. The man seemed to relish in all the attention he garnered from fans, especially females. He was pretty sure he’d seen photos pop up on social media of dates with women Katsuki had been on. And besides with so many rumors flying around about his bedroom prowess, some of it had to be true, right?

“You ever gonna be interested, nerd?”

“Why do you care so much about my love life Kaachan? If the right person asks me out, I’ll say yes.”

“I just noticed that you’re not very fond of the fans. You wear that stupid fake smile every time. Are you jealous of me Deku that I have so many fans?”

“What?! Of course, I’m not. I have my own!” ‘Even though yes I’d like to OFA some of your fans to oblivion.’ “I’m not jealous of you.” ‘But shit! He noticed it’s fake?!’

Katsuki grabs Izuku’s arm to prevent him from walking away. “Oi, you still haven’t answered my question Deku, what is your type?”

Frustrated with being put on the spot like this, he rips his arm out of Katsuki’s grasp. “Why do you care so much?! Go live it up with your latest conquest and leave me out of it Kacchan!” He stomps away fuming, muttering under his breath. Why the sudden interest?! Katsuki’s never pressed so hard before about his personal life. Was it pity? Poor Deku all alone. Multitudes of adoring fans but he goes home to an empty apartment. If Katsuki was trying to set him up, he had no interest in dating anyone else and if that meant he’d be alone, well so be it. It’s not like he’s never been alone before.

“You like me... don’t you nerd.”

Izuku freezes mid step, every muscle in his body stiffened by Katsuki’s words echoing off the walls of the corridor. With his back turned he couldn’t see it but could very much hear the smirk plastered on the man’s face. How dare he?! Was Katsuki taunting him?! Truth or not, how could the man find such turmoil amusing?!

“Think I didn’t know? All these years we’ve known each other that I wouldn’t figure it out?”

Izuku lowers his head as poised tears pool in his eyes. “So, what if you did, it’s not like you felt the same. Look, Kacchan I’m just happy we’re friends again, so please don’t mess that up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just wanna get my paperwork done and go home.”

Heavy stomps move towards him. “Stupid nerd!” And suddenly, Izuku is ripped violently from his self-despair and spun around. “Don’t you fucking put words in my mouth!” The smaller males eyes flash wide from the anger raging behind Katsuki’s ruby glare. “How do you know how I feel?! So smart, and so stupid at the same time!”

“B-But all the women?!” Izuku stammers.

“Pfft, it’s all for show dumbass. You really think I’d sleep with random people who don’t know a goddamn thing about me, who only love my image?! I don’t fucking want a hollow piece of ass! Everyone else assumes that bullshit about me, but I can’t believe my best friend would stoop so low.”

There it is. So, Katsuki was just angry because Izuku was looking down on him again. Apparently, old wounds die hard. “Kacchan, I don’t care who you sleep with. If it makes you happy, then...” his tone grows strangled, “I-I’m happy for you too.”

“Such a fucking liar Deku. I know you’re not happy about it. That’s why you only pretend with fake smiles and dull eyes.”

“Kacchan get to the point.” He sighs, because his heart couldn’t take much more innuendo. “Fine, okay yes, I’ve been in love with you for years, is that what you wanted to hear? That I’ve been stupidly pining for you knowing it would never be reciprocated? Kacchan I was happy, I really was happy because we’re close like we were as kids and that was enough for me.”

“Then go out with me Deku. You said if the right person ask’s you’ll say yes. So, say yes.”

“Kacchan, please don’t tease me. You always worry about me and try to fix things, but unless you really want to...”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and smashes his lips against Izuku’s to shut up the man’s babbling. But the man doesn’t melt into it, instead fights back, pushing and struggling to get out of his grasp! He nips Izuku’s lip. “What the fuck! I’m trying to kiss you idiot! So, stop fighting me!”

A full-blown water works bursts out of Izuku from his emotions going all over the place. “I don’t want your pity Kacchan! You don’t have to go so far trying to make me feel better!”

“Ugh!” Katsuki grabs his chin hard, “get it through your head nerd I’m kissing you because I like you! I don’t just kiss people for nothin’!”

“Y-you, I-I... but aren’t you?”

“I’m seriously in love with an idiot.”

#bakudeku #bkdk unbirthday party #prompt #Bakugou katsuki #Midoriya izuku #bkdk #katsudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction

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zims-left-shoe · 4 years

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Hi, I love your works. I was wondering if I could request a Zim x fem during the tak the hideous new girl episode. Maybe she gets jealous and tries to explain the toxicity of the relationship and just gets so frustrated with Zim that she ends up confessing her feelings to him? Thank you!

Thank you so much! This one was a lot of fun, and I had a lot of things I wanted to do so it’s kind of long and skipped around a few times. I still hope it’s coherent lmao. I honestly really enjoy writing Zim fanfic because his personality is so fun to write for.

For a Monday morning, the energy in the classroom was off the walls. It may have been suppressed to the best of everyone's ability, but anticipation was bubbling to the surface. As you glanced around, several feet were tapping beneath the desks uncontrollably, eyes darting from backpacks that smelled vaguely of meat to the looming figure of Ms. Bitters, who looked bothered to be there--something that wasn't unusual. One kid in the back was even vibrating and frothing at the mouth. The only ones who seemed calm were Zim and Dib; a strange occurrence in its own right, usually those two were the ones causing mayhem. You suspected why. After all, this holiday was never kind to the social outcasts. Best for them not to get excited at all, it's just another day.

Your eyes rested on Zim in particular, lingering there. This tended to happen often, even from the start. How could you not stare at him? When a bizarre green kid shows up out of nowhere and yells a lot, what else are you to do? You had approached him several times before, eating lunch with him on occasion. Zim was definitely weird, but you found yourself liking that about him. Maybe he had piqued your interest purely because he was new. You had been surrounded by the rest of your peers since practically diapers, and fresh faces didn't come around very often. Either way, as much as you didn't want to admit it, you had developed a bit of a crush on him. The combination of his flamboyant attitude and his offbeat personality was just so enticing.

The phone rang, and you could practically feel the collective breath the class sucked in. Moving in an almost supernatural manner, Ms. Bitters went to answer it. Her eye twitched as she held the receiver to her ear.

"No...no. No!" Her voice came out in a hiss, eyes narrowed to slits behind her glasses. "You'll pay for this one." Angrily hanging up the phone, she turned to address the class, paying no attention to the phone that was being consumed by flames. "Class, despite my moral outrage, the principal is allowing you to celebrate Valentine's Day this year."

Those were the only words needed for the classroom to figuratively errupt like a shaken can of soda. Your peers went wild, cheers close to manic screams sounding as kids dumped their bags out on the desks, meat slabs tumbling out. Again, the only two students not excited were Dib and Zim. Dib wore an expression of irritation, just wishing to get the day over with. Zim on the other hand seemed to be completely confused. His eyes flickered from student to student, watching in disgusted fascination as the meat continued to fall from bags as the kids all had dopey grins plastered on their faces.

"Go ahead. Pass out your Valentine's meat slabs. It's traditional." As if on cue, everyone stood up at once, taking their meat to desks all around the room, full of glee. You had never been the biggest fan of Valentine's Day, but you had decidedly been looking forward to the holiday this year. You thought that maybe this would be the day you could drop some hints to Zim and gauge his reaction. Fishing out the special meat slab you had saved and card you made for him, you stood up, pacing over to his desk. There was already a girl there so you stood back a ways, watching the exchange unfold.

The girl gestured the tray she held in her hands forward, offering the neatly arranged heart shaped mini meat slabs. Rather than take it, Zim pushed himself as far back as his chair would allow, his fingers curling against the desk.

"I-I left my meat at home. Sorry, I sort of forgot it, uh..." Teeth gritted, his panicked gaze surveyed the classroom to see if the majority had their eyes on him. They didn't; they were much too occupied with their own valentines to pay Zim's antics any mind. Regardless of Zim's clear discomfort, the girl laid the meat on his desk with a smile on her face. "Get that out of my face!" He screamed, violently shoving the meat from his desk and into the poor girl's face. He swiped at the air in front of his face as if trying to defend himself from an attacker. The girl scoffed in annoyance, picking up her meat and walking away, grumbling about how he should have felt lucky to receive anything at all.

The slab of meat you held felt heavy in your hands in that moment. He clearly was not into the whole Valentine's meat slab thing.

Possibly a cultural difference? You thought to yourself, grip tightening on the meat. You only wished to give him something he would like, and maybe in turn, he would like you. But what to do with the meat? Turning around, you saw Ms. Bitters hunched over her desk, looking absolutely miserable. That'll do...

You scuttled over to her desk, gently placing the meat slab down.

"What do you want?" Her voice may have been as grating as nails on a chalkboard, but you had learned to never show fear around her.

"Er, happy Valentine's Day!"

"Tch. Go socialize with your other hopeless peers before you lose the privilege." Nodding, you slowly backed away. You had gotten rid of the meat, so it was a win for you. To your delight, Zim's desk was empty. His eyes continued to dart around the room, staying vigilant in case some other student came bearing horrible meaty gifts. Letting out one final determined breath, you strode right up to his desk, waving slightly.

"I said I do not want your vile meats!" He hissed, clawing the air once more.

"I don't have meat, Zim. It's okay." A giggle fell from your lips as you presented your card. "I hope a card is okay?" He eyed the paper suspiciously as you slid it across his desk.

"Zim has nothing for you, Y/n." Regardless of his concerns, he took the card in his hands.

"That's fine." With one last distrusting look, he opened the card and began to read. It was a homemade card, something you had spent quite a bit of time on the night before. Doodles in marker were scribbled across the front, and the inside held words about how you thought he was worth hanging around despite everyone shunning him because of being a freak. There was also a decent drawing of him playfighting Dib and winning, which you thought he'd like.

"Oh. This is...um. Wow." Zim seemed to not grasp the meaning of the card. Either that, or this was his way of telling you he wasn't interested. You weren't sure which was more hurtful.

"Sorry, I...just forget about it." Suddenly your shoes became the most interesting thing you had seen in years. However, Zim guessed that he had made a mistake of some kind.

"No! I like it! It is a gift worthy of Zim!! I especially like the part where I beat the Dib." His face was split by a massive grin, and you assumed this was his unorthodox way of thanking you for it. "I thought it would explode or something." You laughed, however, he did not. Apparently he wasn't joking. Another reason you liked him. He was just so unabashedly strange--it was a great break from the norm.

You hadn't noticed Ms. Bitters take another phone call until after she had hung up, turning back to the class. "Everyone! Sit down!"

"But-" The class began to whine, not finished handing out their meaty treats.

"Now!" The old witch snapped, sending you dragging your feet back to your desk. Zim's eyes were on you the whole time, still trying to figure out why you would give him such a thing, especially without something in return. He didn't have much time to give it deep thought though, as the class erupted in whispers at the humongous jet that had just landed outside the window. You couldn't help but wonder just what was going on. Before you could even begin to delve into that train of thought, a girl wandered into the classroom, sharp purple eyes surveying the room. "To celebrate over crowding in Skool, a new student will be joining us." Ms. Bitters gestured to the girl standing at the front of the room. Her hands were folded behind her black striped dress as she smiled. Despite her seemingly pleasant attitude, something about her just rubbed you the wrong way. There was something off, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

"Hi! My name's Tak. I'm new here."

"Hello, Tak." You joined in with the monotone mumbling of the class, however your words came out in a grumble.

"My father's the head of the DEE-Licious Weenie corporation. So I brought Valentine's weenies for everyone!" With a wave of her hand, weenies rained down from nowhere that you could see. Almost everyone around you cheered wildly, already thrilled to have Tak as a part of the student body. Just when you were thinking she wasn't so bad, she spoke again. "Except for that kid!" She jumped on top of Ms. Bitters' desk, combat boots bringing a heavy thud. Pointing a finger at Zim, a maniacal smirk was ever present on her face. Whipping your head towards him revealed him to be completely uninterested.

"Weenies, schmeenies! Zim needs no meat!" He waved his hand, leaning back in his chair, a bored expression settling on his features.

Tak ignored his comment, continuing on. "For him, I have prepared a poem." Your eyebrow quirked up, you definitely weren't liking where this was going. She cleared her throat, about to begin, only to be interrupted by Sara.

"Looks like Zim has a girrrlfrieeennnnd!" Her voice was taunting, and although the comment was meant to be just a tease, you felt as if your heart skipped a beat. Your skin prickled as Tak ripped up the paper in her hands, rounding on Sara.

"It's not nice to embarrass people! You should apologize, and, um, eat your eraser!" Zim looked utterly terrified, sinking down so far into his seat that only his eyes were barely visible above the desk. To your shock and amazement, Sara actually proceeded to eat her eraser, even apologizing to both Tak and Zim. Things had officially safely crossed into 'what the fuck' world. You peered at Dib, the usual skeptic and gave him a 'you seeing this shit?' look, hoping he would concur. He seemed fine with what was happening, which was the most concerning part of the whole ordeal.

This is officially the weirdest day I have ever experienced...and it's only nine in the morning... You rested your chin in your hands, worried for whatever was about to happen.

"For longer than I can remember, I've been looking for someone like you. Someone with a head like yours, and a torso too. Birds sing, and you're gonna PAY, the end! Now, here's some meat covered in barbeque sauce!" Tak cackled as she tossed a rack of ribs dripping in barbeque sauce into Zim's face. A horrible shriek of pain tore itself from his throat, and you turned your attention back to Tak. Not only were you irritated that she read Zim a poem, the ending was not normal, and seemed to hide very violent intentions. Something was off. It felt almost as if she had history with Zim.

"Thank you, Tak. That was horrible." Ms. Bitters made room for her to take a seat, sending someone to the supposed 'underground classrooms'. Meanwhile, Zim's face looked as if he had been hit with a scalding hot waffle iron rather than a rack of ribs. His mouth twitched in pain as his fingers dug into the desktop, jaw clenched. The bell rang afterwards, sending kids out faster than the speed of light. You wandered over to Zim, following him out and into the hall. He still grasped at his face, which looked horrible.

"You okay?"

"Why does it hurt?!" He spoke through gritted teeth, and you sucked in a breath, taking that as a solid no.

"So...you and Tak. Do you know each other?" You decided to just come right out with it. Might as well.

"No, of course not! I have no idea who she is!"

"Really? Cause she seemed to know you. People don't just read poems to strangers. And she kind of seemed like she wanted to hurt you, Zim."

"Don't be silly! She seemed to like me. After all, meat is a sign of, what is it...love? Love, right? She's obviously madly in love with me." He grumbled, unhappy about the situation he was in.

"I don't think that's-" He paid no attention to your reasoning, keeping his head down in thought.

"That's it!" His eyes lit up, turning to face you.

"What's it...?" There seemed to be a joke you were missing out on or something.

"If it's affection she wants..." The word 'affection' didn't roll of his tongue very easy, rather he spat it out as if it were rat poison. "...then it is affection she shall get." Feeling your breath catch in your throat, your heels planted into the floor, sending you into a dead stop.

"What? You can't be serious!"

"Zim must go! Goodbye, Y/n!" The sound of his heeled boots clicking across the tile further announced his leave as he ran out of the building. This wasn't unusual, he would leave school at odd hours despite school not being over, or sometimes he wouldn't show up at all.

"Geez, if all I needed to do to get his attention was write a vaguely threatening poem and attack him with meat, I would have done that a long time ago." You muttered while you angrily shuffled to your next class, already hating where the next few days would take you.

So far, the day had been going better than you had hoped. After yesterday, you had been waiting for something to happen. During class, whenever Zim would look to Tak, he would laugh under his breath. Apparently you had missed the joke, and so had everyone else. It was concerning at best, and so when the recess bell rang, you took it upon yourself to wander outside, following Zim at an inconspicuous distance. You doubted he would have cared if you were right on his tail, but you had no desire to step in unless absolutely necessary. Of course he had ended up by Tak. She was sitting upon a concrete ledge next to Dib, most likely discussing the possibility of Zim being an alien.

You exhaled a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding when Zim forcefully shoved Dib off the ledge and into the brambles, hopping up to take his place next to Tak. You knew something was bound to happen, it was just a matter of when. It seemed that time had finally come.

"I have come to accept your feelings for me, I congratulate you for acknowledging my superiority in choosing me as your lovepig. Feel honored!"

"Lovepig…?" You murmured, watching the scene unfold. Yet again, Zim had surprised you. Just the morning before, he had found the idea of Tak being his girlfriend utterly repulsive. Now, he was accepting the offer? Maybe? There had to be a reason. There was always an angle he was playing, but you had to say, this time you were at a loss for what it could be.

Silence ensued between the two, the only noise being the surrounding din of playing children and birds chirping happy melodies. Without a single word, Tak brought out a bottle of barbeque sauce from seemingly nowhere, squirting Zim with its contents. Almost immediately he screamed, the sound so hideously harsh that it sent all birds within the school yard frantically flying. Zim fell off the ledge and onto the asphalt, rolling around as if he were on fire. Tak cackled, tossing the bottle aside.

It was incredibly obvious to you that she derived enjoyment from his pain and misery, and you hoped that Zim could see it too. This was the second time this has occurred, he had to understand now, right?

Pushing himself off the ground, he stood up, brushing dirt and barbeque sauce off of his pink dress. You thought he would be furious, but it seemed that Zim was full of surprises this day. Rather, he spoke calmly for probably the third time in his life. "Now prepare your brain, filthy beast of meat and hair." He grabbed Tak's waist, lifting her from the ledge and setting her down next to him. "Your magical love adventure begins now!"

"Idiot!" You slapped your palms to your face, watching the scene play out in disbelieving horror. Was he genuinely stupid or just a masochist? Tak didn't seem bothered, laughing insanely, Zim joining in. They laughed until Tak took a nearby trashcan, shoving it over his head and kicking him away. You cringed as Dib had crawled out of the bushes, joining in Tak's joy with a smile on his face.

That had been the first incident of that day. There had been many, many more to follow. You had decided to follow Zim and Tak to keep an eye on things, as it was clear that Zim could not handle himself. As you had expected, more pain-based loving ensued. What exactly had went down? Well-

"-he had offered her a muffin, and what does she do? She squirts him with juice and he screeches on the floor like a madman! Oh, then he gifted her a slab of meat in her locker, and she threw him out of skool screaming with the meat tied to his head." Your voice had a growl to it, and was getting progressively more agitated at higher volumes. You slammed your locker closed, the sound so jarring that several students in the surrounding area turned their heads in your direction.

"I literally have no idea who you're talking about. I'm not even in your grade!" A very frightened looking boy stared back at you incredulously, thinking you to be crazy. The poor kid had just been trying to access the locker beneath yours, but you had pulled him into a very one-sided conversation.

However, you took no notice of his comments, continuing on with your rant. "But there's more! He gave her a gift, but she shoved it over his head. Let's see, she also sicced an attack dog on him when he was trying to give her flowers. He's being so genuinely nice to her, carrying her books and all that! And she just treats him like garbage!" Throwing your hands in the air, you let out a frustrated huff. "She doesn't deserve his affection at all!"

"Yeah, uh...can I get into my locker now so I can go to lunch?" Once again, his words went in one ear and right out the other with you. The only one that stuck was 'lunch'.

"Lunch...that's it! I should try and talk to him! Thank you, Keith!"

"My name's Kevin." He sighed as you ran off towards the cafeteria. Throwing open the double doors, your eyes rested on Zim, who stood at the end of the lunch line looking worse for wear. He was covered in bruises, one eye was swollen, and his skin even seemed to smoldering. His clothes were tattered and dirty from the fresh hell that Tak had been forcing him to endure. He slouched, looking miserable as can be.

"Zim, hey." You approached him, taking your place in line behind him. He instantly straightened up, wincing in pain as he did so, clutching a hand to his side while murmuring something about his organs rupturing.

"Y/n, what brings you here?"

"Lunch?"

"Ah, yes. That." One of his eyes twitched involuntarily, and you couldn't procrastinate on your true intent any longer.

"I'm worried about you, you know." Your voice was quiet, and you wouldn't mask your concern for him. You wanted him to know that you wished the best for him, and that Tak did not fit that bill.

"Zim is fine." The line moved forward and you both grabbed trays, but you wouldn't let go of your point.

"Zim is not fine. Tak is hurting you, Zim. She's going to do some real damage to you, either physically or mentally. Although by your appearance, it seems that she's already accomplished that."

"Nonsense! In fact, Zim has never felt better." He grinned as if to prove everything was okay despite all of the evidence that told otherwise.

"How she's treating you is wrong." He hummed a response, turning away from you as the lunch ladies glopped mush onto his tray. "I'm serious, Zim. She's a psychopath and it's not okay. At all. I'm saying this as your friend."

Without even sparing you a second glance over his shoulder, he spoke with his back turned to you. "Everything is perfectly normal and under control." And with that he walked over to the table Tak was sitting at, leaving you standing there. Was he seriously just going to brush you off like that?

Dejectedly taking your tray to your own table, you watched--disappointed but not surprised--as Tak dumped both her own and his tray of food onto his head. His face scrunched in pain as if he were being burned, but he didn't yelp this time; he lacked the energy. It hurt to watch, really. Wiping the barely edible food from his face, he stood up on the table, pulling Tak up with him and grabbing her hand.

"Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Tak!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, ensuring that every student in the room heard him. Tak responded by pushing him off of the table and onto the ground, chuckling to herself afterward. Your grip on the table tightened; that was the final straw. Were you jealous? Sure. But most of all, you were more distressed with the situation. You genuinely cared for him, and you wanted to see him in a happy and healthy relationship, not one that was constant pain and misery. Much to your dismay, he still was unable to grasp the toxicity of his relationship with Tak.

It had been a long day for everyone. Especially Zim. When you had stepped into the courtyard after school, you saw him slowly dragging his feet. He looked like he had been beaten halfway to hell, somehow worse than when you had talked to him at lunch. In fact, you weren't even sure if he was human or a reanimated corpse (in reality, he was neither). Curling your hands into fists, you marched right up to Zim. If it was only day one of being with Tak and he already looked this bad, you weren't sure how much longer he could survive. It was clear that he was in desperate need of an intervention. Reaching your hand out, you laid it on his shoulder, feeling him flinch beneath your touch while he squeaked out a cry.

"Oh. It's just you, girl-thing." He seemed to relax, exhaling a long breath. Perhaps he thought you were Tak.

"We need to talk." Zim looked tired, staying put, which you hadn't entirely expected. "You need to break up with Tak. Whatever your plan was, it's a bad idea." That statement seemed to set him off. Not necessarily because he was in love with Tak, more so that he was overly defensive of his plans.

"It's fine! It's a perfectly normal pain-based human relationship." He waved your words off with his hand, yet again tossing your concern to the side. Whether he was just harmfully self-absorbed or truly a masochistic idiot would go undecided. Either way, red hot anger sizzled beneath your skin. How could he be so nonchalant about this mess?

"See, the thing is, relationships aren't supposed to be pain-based, you moron! Your whole dynamic is toxic, she's literally abusing you! Why can't you see that?"

"Zim is not a moron!" Crossing his arms, he turned his head away from you and stuck his chin in the air, quite similar to a small child pouting. "Besides, everything is going completely to plan!"

"Really? Because your skin is smoldering! Was that part of the plan, Zim?" With each comment, your volume increased, to the point where you were both screeching at the top of your lungs, despite standing right beside each other.

"It's a fashion statement!" He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at you.

"You are so infuriating sometimes, you know that?!" Your voice thick with exasperation, you stomped your foot on the concrete, internally grateful that no one had stuck around after school to see you two arguing like little children, especially over something so important. You blinked back a few tears that were rising due to frustration and anger, Zim drawing back slightly at the sight.

"Even if it is as bad as you say, why do you care? It's not your business." Although his voice was more hushed than before, his words were still quite cold. You were at your breaking point, and the floodgate couldn't hold back your emotions any longer.

"Because I like you, Zim! Like, like-like you!" Drawing in a deep breath, you prepared yourself for your rant. There was no turning back now, what's done has been done, those fated words had been said. "I don't care how different you are. You're weird, yes, but weird can be good. You may not think so, but even you deserve a functioning and healthy relationship, one where you do normal things like go out on dates, hold each others hands. You say stuff like 'I love you' rather than 'Go die'. Affection isn't supposed to be torture, Zim. Affection is supposed to invoke happiness, and Tak can't give that to you. I'm not saying I could, but..." You trailed off, your brain finally seeming to get with the program. You had already said too much.

For the first time in the history of ever, Zim stood there in a dead silence. He appeared to not know what to say or how to say it. You didn't blame him. What was he supposed to do? Scoop you up into his arms and run off into the sunset? You wanted nothing more in than moment than for a pit to open beneath your feet and swallow you whole, never to be seen again. Grabbing at the hem of your shirt, your face felt as if it were on fire. Staring at the ground under your shoes, you attempted to will the previously mentioned pit into existence. No such luck.

"I, uh, see." Zim spoke first, amazingly calm about the whole ordeal. Slowly, his usual air of confidence was returning. "Well, it might interest you to know that I was going to break things off with Tak anyway." Hope rose in your chest. Even if he wanted nothing to do with you, you were just glad he was getting out of that horrid situation.

"Really?"

"Mhm." Awkwardly clearing his throat, he shifted his weight from foot to foot, genuinely unsure of what to do with all of this newfound information. After a few moments, a grin spread on his face, which happened to be the tell-tale sign of him having an idea. Whether it was competent or disastrous, odds were about 30-70. For his sake, you prayed that it was much better than his Tak idea. "Say, Y/n. Would you be interested in aiding me in studying a normal human relationship?"

Sure, the way he was asking was strange, and you vaguely wondered if he held hidden motives--the answer to that question was most likely yes, but you still felt okay about your answer.

"Are you asking me out?"

"...Yes."

Pearls of laughter escaped you; he was bizarre, always has been, always will be. And yet, he was the one you had fallen for. "Sure. Only after you break up with Tak." It was then that he smiled, not a malicious smirk of a wolf cornering its prey, rather that of a boy who was just pleased to exist.

"Consider it done."

#invader zim #zim x reader #invader zim x reader #invader zim fanfiction #fanfiction #invader zim fic #invader zim one shot #invader zim oneshot #oneshot #one shot #request

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ficsilike-reblogged · 4 years

Text

Sunshine City: Two

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. But I do hope you guys like it. If you haven’t watched Kingsman: The Golden Circle, I would really recommend it. I’m pulling quite a bit from the movie for the first handful of chapters and I don’t want to confuse anyone. But if you have any questions, I’ll gladly answer them!

Pairing: (Eventual) Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating For This Chapter: M for Whiskey being Whiskey, inappropriate hand gestures, lusting after your boss, and some dubious consent on behalf of Clara. tldr: finger-fucking a stranger to save the world :)

Read the Prologue and Chapter One!

Louisville was a quaint city—not that she would ever say that to a local. Ginger Ale greeted her as she landed at the airport and had filled her in on the goings-on at the main headquarters and how there was a strange set of explosions in the UK that landed on their radar. After hearing about the “blue” aspect of her and Whiskey’s latest mission, Champ had requested she come down to Kentucky and brief him in person, citing his distaste for mission-brief emails. Whiskey was tasked with keeping the New York headquarters running, as he always did. The lucky bastard. But it was fine. He had nearly strangled her and she still thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever met.

Something was clearly wrong with her and maybe some time away from his face and crooked smile would help her stop feeling like she had something clawing to get out of her chest every time he looked at her.

(It wouldn’t help. She knew that.)

Their mission in Vegas had been a success—in a strange kind of way. After the men turned blue, she and Whiskey followed them through the club and carried the mission out—with one caveat. They grabbed a vial of blood before disposing of the bodies. There had been a minor shoot out with the suppliers but it was easily handled, too.

Ginger Ale took the vial of blood and made it a priority to test it as Capri Sun went to Champagne’s office.

“Ginger will probably be able to give us more specifics when the tests are done,” she said as she finished her spiel.

“What do you think it is? What’s your gut say, Capri Sun?”

She wiped a hand down her face and leaned against one of the chairs at the long table. “Something’s going on, Champ. People turning blue? The explosions in the UK? All of it feels…off.”

Champ opened his mouth to say something else but his personal intercom buzzed and Tequila’s voice rang out. “Champ, we’ve got some stragglers on the tour. They’re lookin’ to get inside the cask vault. British by the sounds of it.” He paused. “They’re using some tech to get through our biometric scanners.”

Cap looked at Champ to see him arch an eyebrow. “Ten bucks says they’re here for Butterfly Guy.”

“Bring ‘em in, Tequila. Real quiet like,” Champ ordered.

“Ya got it, boss.”

As the line went dead, Champ crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at her. “The butterfly guy, huh? You reckon that’s what they’re here for?”

“Three bombings at nearly the exact same time in the UK and the next day two Brits show up here, where we’re housing a one-eyed amnesiac spy? Yeah.” She shrugged. “Call it a hunch.”

‘The Butterfly Guy,’ as he was dubbed after waking up a little less than a year ago, was a fodder for a fair bit of gossip at all of the Statesman offices. It isn’t every day that a Brit, obviously involved in intelligence in some capacity, gets shot in the head outside a zealot’s church after a spike of low wave frequencies catch Ginger’s eye. The fact that he was obsessed with butterflies just made him even more of an anomaly. Agent Seltzer thought he was some sort of double agent from MI-6. Agent Absinthe thought it was a ploy from some terrorist organization to infiltrate Statesman HQ. She didn’t really care either way.

Champ huffed with a smile. “We’ll see, Cap.”

They spoke a little more about the Vegas mission before they heard the intercom buzz again—it was Ginger, quickly relaying that the British intruders did seem to know Butterfly Guy but were here for a completely different reason…supposedly.

She turned as she heard the elevator chime on the other side of the door. “That’s my cue. I’ll see you later, Champ.”

“Don’t go too far, now,” he said as she started to walk away. “Whiskey’ll probably need ya when I talk to him about Vegas in a minute.”

She nodded and let herself out, dodging Tequila’s swat that he aimed at her shoulder. Tequila had been the man in the alley all those years ago. He was friendly and sweet, if not a little brash, and she considered him a friend. But the other man at Tequila’s side caught her eye. He looked her over with a critical and quizzical gaze before the Statesman agent all but shoved him into the room and the door slapped shut behind them. Her phone quickly ate all of her attention as she brought up the cameras the doggy daycare had set up throughout their shop so owners could check on their dogs. Bela was currently gnawing on a tennis ball as a golden retriever licked at his ear.

She hated leaving him alone so much. Hated it. He was such a good boy and she loved him so much that she actually asked Champ if she could bring him to Kentucky whenever she came down.

It was a firm no—apparently Tequila had accidentally let loose his fleet of basset hounds in HQ a year before she joined and Champ had to instate a no-pets policy because of the damage they caused. It was a shame, really. She thought Champ would really like Bela.

She checked her email, too, responding to Agent Grenadine’s plea for help. She was a newer agent and still needed a bit of guidance when it came to the more finite details of missions. Whiskey had slept with her within a week of Grenadine being assigned to the New York office. He never waited long, it seemed. And she didn’t really blame him—Grenadine was young and beautiful and vivacious. And always “down for a night of fun with no strings” as she had so eloquently put it. Perfectly Whiskey’s type.

And why was she thinking about that right now?

She shook off the thought and rubbed at her eyes before she pocketed her phone.

The door opened and Tequila came out with a huff.

“The Brits getting on your nerv-” The words stalled in her throat as she saw the blue crawling up his neck and across his face. It was exactly like what she had seen on the targets in Vegas. “Tequila? Oh my god.” Her hands reached out to touch him and winced as he all but crumpled into her grip. “What is happening? What did you do?”

“I-I…fuck, Cap. I don’t even know.”

Her thumbs brushed against his cheeks with a frown. “Go to Ginger. She’ll sort you out, I’m sure.”

Tequila’s smile was small. “I’ll be right as rain by tomorrow.”

Y/N nodded, not believing it, and watched him go with a sigh.

The man from earlier slipped out the door with a sigh of his own. His eyes found hers. “You Capri Sun?”

She held out a hand for him to shake. “Everybody calls me Cap. You’re Galahad or whatever?”

“Call me Eggsy,” he said as he shook her hand.

“Eggsy. Fewer syllables.” She crossed her arms over her chest as they dropped their hands. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, uh, Whiskey says you’re coming back with us. He’s sending a jet?”

She groaned.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Sunny,” Whiskey said as Eggsy stepped out of his office to make a call.

She crossed her arms with a sigh. It had been hours since they landed back in New York and she was tired. They had been formulating a plan to meet ‘Clara,’ the ex-girlfriend of some Kingsman cast-off who had ties to The Golden Circle cartel who was possibly responsible for the blue rash. Clara was all over social media with her plans to attend the Glastonbury Music Festival. The fact that there was another independent intelligence agency named Kingsman was really the least alarming information she’d learned that day—apparently there was a guy walking around with a robotic arm capable of hacking entire security systems.

She needed a nap before they loaded up to head across the ocean in an hour.

But Whiskey’s smile continued to grow and he buzzed for his assistant to, “bring him in.”

The door opened and she turned to see little Bela wiggling like crazy in the poor woman’s grasp. His entire body seemed to shake when he spotted her and happy little barks escaped him.

She quickly pulled him into her arms and let him lick all over her face. It had only been two days since she’d dropped him off at daycare but he always greeted her like she had been gone a year. “Hi baby. Hi hi hi. Yes, I missed you, too.”

Her fingers pushed through his thick fur as Bela finally settled in her grip and propped his head against her shoulder. She pressed a kiss to his one ear as she smiled. But then it dawned on her: Whiskey had definitely witnessed all of that. A giant crack in the visage she had sculpted. Fuck.

She slowly turned to face him and scowled at the shit-eating grin splitting his face. “Now, what’s a guy got to do to get a welcome like that?”

“Be a one-eared corgi,” she replied drolly.

“C’mon now, Sunny. I had to call in a big favor to have Vanessa pick him up and bring him here without you. That doggy daycare has some stringent guidelines about who can pick up a dog, by the way.” He placed his hands on his hips and they cocked to the side as they so often did. But he was still smiling. “I think I should get something.”

She sighed and Bela nosed at the underside of her jaw. “Thank you, boss. That was very kind of you.”

“And?”

“And that’s all you’re getting.” His smile fell the slightest bit and she bit back a grimace. In truth, it was the nicest thing someone had done for her in a long, long time. Letting her indulge in a little time with her dog before having to fly across the world was definitely spoiling her. And her traitorous mind had to remember how broken Whiskey had looked when he had realized he had wrapped his hands around her neck. This was probably just an I’m-sorry-I-tried-to-kill-you-while-asleep gift. But it didn’t feel like that and she really needed to stop lying to herself or get better at it. “I really do appreciate it, Whiskey. I don’t like being away from him for so long.”

“You really love the little guy, don’t’cha?” He stepped forward and let Bela sniff his fingers before petting him. Bela’s stumped tail quickly resumed its body-shaking wags when Whiskey instinctively found his soft spot. “I guess he’s cute.” The teasing lilt to his voice almost made her smile again.

“Yeah, he’s my favorite.”

“His name’s Bella? Italian for beautiful.”

“No. Like Bela Lugosi. The guy who played Dracula.”

Hearing his name, Bela licked at her face.

“Never took you for a monster movie fan,” Whiskey said, continuing to pet her dog.

“My brother loved them. Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff—if they were in the movie, he made me watch it. But this little guy didn’t look like a Boris. So, Bela it was.”

“Your brother?” Whiskey asked, trying to catch her eye bet she kept them firmly on her dog.

“Yup.” And that was all the answer she gave, her heart a little heavy already. She hoisted the corgi a little higher and Whiskey pulled his hand back. “I guess I should get him back to the daycare before we take off.”

“Vanessa can handle it.”

She nodded and walked to the door and spoke to Vanessa and pressed a series of kisses behind Bela’s ear before the assistant walked away with her dog in a careful hold. Her shoulders slumped as she watched them go. “Thanks for letting me see him. I know you think it is stupid-”

“I never said that, Sunny.”

She hummed, filing away her small bit of melancholy, and turned back to face him. “So, why’d you want me on this gig? I thought you’d be able to handle a pretty girl at a music festival on your own.”

Whiskey opened his mouth like he wanted to say something before shutting. His broad shoulders rolled. He turned back to his desk and settled into his slick black leather chair. “I don’t trust the kid.”

“Eggsy? Why?” She thought him a little cocksure—but she also dealt with Whiskey on a near-daily basis.

Whiskey shrugged. “Call it an instinct.”

She settled into the chair across from him with a frown. “And you thought bringing me along would do what exactly? Stab him in the back before he stabs you?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Maybe.” The leather of his chair creaked as it leaned forward with a smirk. “Maybe I just think you need to let loose a little and a music festival can do that.”

Rolling her eyes at her boss wasn’t really an option so she settled for blinking very slowly. “That’s kind of a waste of company funds, boss.”

“You are absolutely no fun.”

“People are dying.”

“All the more reason for you to come along.” He tilted his head to the side with another smile. “Please?”

She let out a slow breath and mulled over her options. She could call Champ and say she wanted out. It would be the first time she handed over a mission to someone else and each agent gets one pass. But then she could never get out of another one again. And it was just a music festival. Right? “Fine. But only because one of my favorite bands is playing at the festival.”

His smile grew and it twisted her stomach. She shouldn’t let him sway her this much. But the surprise (and probably illegal) visit from Bela did soften her resolve. And maybe watching him seduce someone else would actually—finally—put a stop to her silly feelings for the man. So far, she’d avoided any and all social functions that would let her see him scoping out another fling for the night. And yes, it did make her a little bit of an outcast within the social circles of Statesman. But she was only there to do a job anyway. Save the world. Pet her dog. Go to sleep when she had the chance. She didn’t need anything else.

“I’m glad you’re coming along, Sunny. I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

Dammit.

Finding out that Eggsy was dating a Swedish princess would have been hilarious if Whiskey hadn’t insisted on picking Eggsy up in a fucking Bronco that had the most obnoxious horn known to mankind. Eggsy helped her put the VIP band around her wrist with a small smile. He was a good kid, she decided. A little rough around the edges. Definitely cocksure. But genuine.

She tried to focus on that and not how she caught Whiskey’s eyes trailing up her thighs in the rearview mirror.

She had dressed to blend in at Glastonbury. Tiny shorts, a fringed, low-cut top, and Hunter rainboots. If it worked for Kate Moss, it worked for her.

But the heated gaze she’d caught from her boss almost made her squirm in her seat.

Thankfully, they arrived at the festival grounds without too much trouble and she focused on the passing greenery instead of the eyes she felt on her skin. They spoke about the tracker and the need for it to stick and the two men, of course, made frequent innuendos about the size of their dicks as she tried very hard not to commit murder by bludgeoning them both to death with her rain boot. The music was thumping through speakers, songs overlapping from the various stages and creating a raucous thrumming as they approached the VIP bar. She watched the various attendees pass by. It really was colorful. Some guy was wearing a pair of leather wings and drinking next to a girl in head-to-toe tie-dye.

“I say we both make an approach. Whoever gets on best, goes for it.” Whiskey said. “Sunny will make sure the target doesn’t ditch us before we can plant it.”

Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Well, it doesn't have to be a competition, bruv. Why don't we just go up to her, shake her hand, pat her on the back. Whatever, you know. Job done.”

“The hand is not a mucus membrane, Eggsy. Neither is the back. They teach you anything at Kingsman?”

And she had to laugh at that, despite Eggsy’s absolutely offended face.

“What are you talking about?”

“We need a mucus membrane, Eggsy. Remember?” she supplied, trying to be helpful.

“Our trackers are designed to enter the bloodstream. They circulate harmlessly, providing full audio and GPS.” Whiskey’s pointer and middle finger curled and swirled as he spoke and she had to look away for a moment, knowing exactly what he was implying with that motion. Heat coiled in her stomach. Now was not the time to be thinking about getting finger-fucked by her boss. But the senior agent caught her eye anyway and winked as his fingers curled again and she would swear she could almost feel those phantom fingers. But, she set her lips into a firm line and his smile fell.

Eggsy’s jaw went to side as he mulled their words over. “Mucus membrane. That's like up the nose, isn't it? What the fuck am I gonna do? Stick my finger...” She watched as realization dawned on him. “It's not just inside the nose, is it?”

“No, Eggsy, it ain't. Fuck.” Whiskey shook his head. “All right, I'll take the first crack. Watch and learn, buddy.”

As Whiskey sauntered up to the bar, Eggsy sighed. “Is he always like this?”

She nodded, sagely. “Yes.” But her eyes quickly focused on Whiskey and listening in on their conversation. But her stomach quickly dropped as one horrible pick up line after another spilled out of his mouth. Did he really just ask her what band she was in?

Good god. How did she find this man attractive?

“Eggsy, for the love of God, please go rescue that poor girl.” She nudged him toward the bar and he all but dragged his feet with a scowl but it quickly morphed into a cocky grin when Clara spotted him.

She really thought she had saved the mission. Really. But then Eggsy was just as bad as Whiskey, it seemed, at picking up women. How did he manage to woo a Princess with those lines? It eventually devolved into both Eggsy and Whiskey passive-aggressively trying to one-up each other and Clara quickly had a hoard of drinks she didn’t want or order sitting in front of her.

She couldn’t roll her eyes hard enough at the two men peacocking in front of the poor girl and decided to salvage the mission on her own. She wedged her way between Clara and Eggsy with a sigh and ordered a water as her fingers plucked the tracker from his pocket. Her eyes slid over to Clara to see her already looking in her direction. Perfect.

It hadn’t taken long from the pair of men to realize they’d been all but dismissed by Sunny and Clara and they both retreated (Whiskey to the other side of the bar and Eggsy to the VIP entrance to make sure Clara didn’t leave) to spectate and make sure she didn’t blow it with Clara, too. But Whiskey knew she wouldn’t. Her records were clear. She never missed a target. He wasn’t sure what had thrown him off his game so much. Usually he’d be retreating to a shadowed hallway or an empty room by now with the target ready and wet for him.

Maybe it was the perfect set of legs he’d already spied. His Sunny always looked good. Always.

But she’d never come on a “tracking” mission with him before and he could feel her eyes on him the entire time.

Whiskey watched, a little entranced, as Sunny had the target eating out of her hand within a few moments—and then literally eating out of the her hand as Sunny pushed an ice cube between Clara’s lips with a giggle he’d never heard her make before. Her thumb dipped into Clara’s mouth with the ice and she slowly pulled it out only to lick the water from her skin with a smile.

Something definitely stirred beneath the zipper of his jeans.

Clara leaned close and let her fingers trail down Sunny’s arm as she whispered something into her ear. Sunny then bit her lip with another smile and nodded, grasping Clara’s hand in hers. Even from a distance, he could read her lips, “lead the way.” The pair of women slipped away through the crowd and Whiskey had to lean against the bar to hide what surely was the erection of his nightmares and daydreams as Eggsy walked up to him, a relieved little smile on his face. “She really saved us, mate. She’s a good one, ain’t she?” The kid settled in the empty stool beside him.

“Yeah, kid,” Whiskey muttered as he waved down the bartender. “She’s a good one.” He ordered a whiskey neat before discreetly activating and raising the volume on the earpiece so he could monitor Sunny. He knew Clara wasn’t much of a threat—not against the likes of his Sunny, anyway—but he just wanted to be sure.

The earpiece hummed for a moment and recalibrated before he caught the tail-end of some sort of whispered flirt. “You’re so pretty for me.” There was a soft answering noise and then a shuffle, like a dress being pulled off. “So pretty.”

“God, you’re mouthy,” Clara said. “I love it.”

“Get on the bed,” Sunny said and he imagined Clara scrambling to do as she was told and then Sunny climbing over her. His mind drifted, for a moment. Was she like this with everyone she brought to bed? Sounds of some illicit act buzzed in his ears as he thought of her lips, her fingers…

“Look at you. So wet. I’ve barely touched you.” His Sunny laughed.

“Oh please,” Clara whined, high and breathy. “Please.”

Whiskey glanced at Eggsy to see him squirming in his seat. He tapped the kid on the shoulder and then snatched the earpiece right out of his ear. “The fuck?” Eggsy grumbled.

Whiskey just pocketed it and ordered another drink.

Clara was moaning now and there was a distinct wet sound that he knew all too well.

“Oh! Right there! Fuuuuuuuu-there!”

Sunny laughed again but it sounded muffled. “You almost there? Yeah, I think you are. Just about covered my hand—leaking all over me. You’ve made a mess.” Sunny sighed and the wet noise grew faster and faster. “Come on, gorgeous. You can come for me.”

The zipper of his jeans was becoming increasingly more cumbersome and he took a healthy gulp of the liquor. He shouldn’t be picturing her making those sounds. Shouldn’t be wondering what she sounded like with his fingers buried deep. Shouldn’t be thinking about what she would taste like on his tongue.

But he did. And it wasn’t the first or the last time.

Clara’s moans turned into a staccato of whimpers and groans that grew and grew until she wailed.

Sunny hummed—he could tell she was smiling. “I knew you’d be beautiful when you came.”

Clara panted and there was a soft sound of a kiss. “Your turn?”

“Mm, no. I just like seeing pretty girls come.” Another kiss. “But thanks for the offer.”

“God, you are just a walking dream, aren’t you?” Clara asked, all breathy and smitten.

Whiskey finished his drink and paid. The rest of the conversation between Clara and Sunny was a hum in his ears as he left the bar and Eggsy quickly followed.

“Think she can teach me her tricks?” He joked.

“Nah, kid. You either got it or you don’t. She just has it in spades.” He walked toward the tent but slowed to a stop just out of reach so as to not look like they were lingering. He gave it a moment, and then another. Sunny walked out of the tent with a smile and licked her fingers. Mission accomplished.

A/N: Welp. There’s that. I will try to have the next chapter up in less time than it took for this one to get published. Please tell me what you think!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm @honestlystop @paryl @fioccodineveautunnale

#agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #kingsman #kingsman the golden circle

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thistangledbrain · 3 years

Text

Day 19 & 20!

Day 19 - “I hate it when...”

As you’ve gleaned from prior posts, I hate it when you forget autism is a developmental disorder and not an intellectual one. We are so. Fucking. Tired. Of being treated as lesser, or like we don’t understand what you’re saying to us.

Outside of the reactions to others’ behavior, though, I have some personal “I hate it when”...I’ve let you into my mind and told you what I appreciate about how my brain works, but there are things I don’t like, for sure.

I hate that personal stressor things trigger a toddler-like need to SHUT DOWN. Like writing this blog, for example...the vulnerability I feel usually leads to a need to go to sleep for a long time, once I’m finished. Or after a long day socializing. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to engage my brain anymore, I just need to shut all systems down and sleep. Especially if there’s been a meltdown (meltdown—->shutdown)...and oh boy do I hate meltdowns. They’re really rare, thank dog.

I hate that my executive function is an absolute bag of ass. This is probably the biggest thing I would change. It got infinitely worse when my disability got bad (EDS), for some reason. And it drives me up the damn wall.

I hate my low function days/moments. It’s like my brain just won’t kick into gear, or the gears and wheels are rusty and grinding, & it’s rather anxiety inducing. I usually “hide” on my low days, sometimes in my darkened bedroom, and watch favorite shows or movies, or get lost in a good book - if I can. On low days I find myself re-reading crap constantly because it’s not making any sense, so I’ll even avoid complicated recipes...I have no idea why these days/moments happen, but boy do they piss me off/make me anxious (that’s kind of the same thing for me. My anxiety nearly always manifests as anger). On my low days, you’ll see (if you were a fly on the wall, because I suppress this even around my own family), me walking in tight, anxious figure 8’s and flapping my hands in a distressed way, as I anxiously try to mentally kick my brain into gear. (It doesn’t work, but it IS a little soothing. And my dogs are SO sweet...they gather around me tightly and just seem to know I need them.)

🤷🏻‍♀️ There’s probably more I could expound on that I don’t like, but writing this one has been pretty distasteful. I try not to dwell on things I hate anymore, so I’ve put this entry down multiple times and come back to it when I’m in a decent frame of mind. I think I’m tired of talking about it now, so I’m gonna just stop talking.....

Which is a good segue into Day 20 -

————————————-

“Communication”

Ahh communication. This entry will be long, because I have a lot to communicate LOL....

Personally, I write far more coherently and eloquently than I speak. My brain goes too fast...I often trip over words; my brain’s three steps ahead of what’s coming out of my mouth and I get scrambled sometimes. I can also take the time to think about what I want to say/HOW I want to say it. Like many autistics, I’m a blurter. LOL...I am constantly trying to remind myself, just because I think it, doesn’t mean I have to say it. This gets a LOT of us in trouble...one of my most memorable examples is, I *loudly* blurted “that’s BULLSHIT!!” in a church one time. (I was speaking on how my devout Methodist grandmother, who regularly takes communion at her church, was not permitted to receive communion in a Catholic church, merely because she isn’t Catholic, despite the fact that this woman is all about some Jesus & a devoted churchgoer - not just on Easter and Christmas.) In my defense, it WAS (IS) bullshit. I just didn’t need to practically yell that in church. As you can imagine, it was like a needle scratching across a record & everyone turned to stare. (My poor husband rescued me.) 🤦🏻‍♀️ Sigh. It’s a good idea to keep me out of most church services.

I am rather famous (infamous?) for calling bullshit straight to someone’s face, BLUNTLY. It’s out of my mouth before my brain’s “tact gatekeeper” I’ve spent over a decade trying to train is even half awake at his post (it’s a him because my husband is the one who taught me how to use tact in the first place. And it’s a him because said “gatekeeper” is lazy and falls asleep on the job all the time 😆). Have you ever just blurted your honest thoughts and heard shocked gasps or someone just busts out laughing? Yeah. That happens to me regularly. Or uncomfortable chuckles and someone will blink a few times and say, “oohhhkay, well, you could said that a different way.” (My old response to that was, I’m not responsible for what your reaction is to what I say...you’re in charge of your own feelings. I *understand* now how irresponsible and unfeeling that is, and I try to keep that in the front of my mind, even when I’m frustrated and nearly burning up with the desire to speak my thoughts in their raw form, but this is routinely an area I struggle to adapt to...and I am very sorry when I hurt someone I care about.)

On the other side of this same coin though, this is a trait my friends respect deeply, because I’m not cruel hearted or anything. You always know where you stand with me, and I’m the last person to try and lie to you. I SUUUUUCK at lying. And on the rare times when I do, I usually end up eventually telling on myself (this drove my older stepsister NUTS when we were kids, because she liked to do lots of sneaky things, and I don’t have an inherently sneaky nature LOL...so “DO NOT tell momma” was a *serious* risk for her, if she let me tag along 😂). Lying to someone just feels disgusting. Oily. Shameful. I hate lying. Plus, my short term memory is a grabasstic bag of CRAP, so there’s a good chance I won’t remember the lie and get caught anyway. 🤷🏻‍♀️ My boys also suck at lying or hiding stuff, and generally prefer not to...but I also give them a safe forum to be honest. (I’m sure there’s LOTS of crap I don’t know, but you’d be surprised how much they DO tell me.)

Another thing with me personally is that I go mute sometimes. I’m not being deliberately obstinate. I’m not REFUSING to speak in those moments...sometimes I literally can’t, and the effort of doing so will make me gag, or even projectile vomit. Sounds very dramatic, doesn’t it? It is. (And it annoys the SHIT out of me.) There’s not a fucking thing i can do about it. The movement of my tongue in my mouth will literally begin to trigger my gag reflex, and if I try to power through it, I’m rewarded with my lunch returning to the surface anyway, regardless of my desires, and sometimes rather unexpectedly & violently. USUALLY this happens when I’m uber stressed, but sometimes it seems kind of out of the blue & catches even me off guard. If this happens but I still have something to say, I start texting instead, and explain. Most people - especially my hubby - are very kind when this happens. (I don’t want your pity, I just want you to switch to written communication for a minute until I can figuratively kick the fuck out of the engine in my “speaking center” and get it to work again.) Other times, I will literally get tired of talking. Like my mouth and tongue - and somehow, the “word forming” part of my brain feels physically exhausted (weird, I know, but I also spend the vast majority of my life silent - I am home alone all day, hate talking on the phone, and simply don’t speak much, by choice. So maybe it is actual “mouth fatigue” 😂😂😂 - I’ve stopped eating before because I just got tired of chewing, too, even though I’m still somewhat hungry. 🙄) I am usually *perfectly* happy to keep listening! And I’ll stay engaged in the conversation usually. I am just...done audibly talking. I’ll literally say “my mouth is tired of making the sounds now, but please keep going”...but I think my husband is the only one who doesn’t find this unusual, and rolls with it. It usually happens after a long, animated conversation...instead of winding down, though, it just..stops. If I try to keep going, cue the gagging. I can stay engaged in the conversation if you let me start writing/typing instead of speaking, for my responses. So that’s a “fun” little trait of mine that many neurotypicals find unsettling. Please don’t take it personally. My mouth just doesn’t want to make the words anymore - and I’m probably mostly done adding what I needed to add to the conversation anyway. I’m a great listener when this happens, though. 😆

Communication is a really interesting thing with all of us, because it’s a struggle on one level or another. I will tell you, it’s a frequent topic in my groups. “WHY CAN’T NEUROTYPICALS JUST SAY WHAT THE FUCK THEY MEAN?!?! 😩😩😩” I’m dead serious - you might think, because we’re sensitive (generally), we can’t “handle” it? You’d be so very wrong. What we can’t handle is when you dance around a subject or we have to try and translate what you just said to us (which most of us are not that good at). Just fucking say it! Nine times out of ten, you’ll just get a look of dawning realization and a “oh, shit, okay” response. We can handle it. Just. Say. It. We’ll respect you a lot more in the morning, LOL 😆

I think every autistic has some sort of beef with neurotypicals when it comes to communication (as I’m sure you have yours with us, obviously).

You guys operate under some weird ass rules that we simply don’t understand - especially if you don’t tell us those rules & just expect us to know. Like, if my husband hadn’t patiently taken years to show/teach me how the way I said certain things were hurtful, I would still be in the “yeah she’s cool but she’s kind of an asshole” territory. (I still struggle to grasp this, or at least it still frustrates me....truth is truth, whether it’s an ironclad general fact or your own personal truth - and yes sometimes the truth hurts, but like...I don’t pin any responsibly for that on the truth teller, if that makes sense?)

Working in rescue also helped hone my ability to speak “neurotypically” to others - I work with a LOT of women, and boy do a lot of them NOT appreciate when you bluntly tell them what you think. Men on the other hand....

I know *lots* of autistic women who prefer friendships with men, largely centering around this communication thing. We hurt men’s feelings a little less regularly than other women’s. I know I was like that, until I got a little more used to how I have to modify my communication with most women (but that annoys me, I’m gonna be honest - it annoys my Autie friends, too). The only time I am as starkly blunt as I used to be, is when speaking to my female Autie friends (because they can handle it), or most of the dudes I’m friends with. But if my message is getting “lost in the sauce” and you’re not getting my point, I usually give a frustrated sigh, WARN you that I’m about to tell you flatly what I need to say, because we aren’t getting anywhere, and just say it.

Yes I am the friend who, when you gush on and on about your new back yard bred puppy, talking all about how you’re gonna breed him when he grows up, is gonna flatly say “he’s not breeding quality”, if they’re not. Then I’m gonna ask you why you want to do such a thing, given that you’re aware of the massive load of rescue dogs (PARTICULARLY Great Danes and Cane Corsos) - and probably beat your argument down every step of the way. That doesn’t always go badly though - one of my closest friends was considering breeding their dog, and while it was a beautiful dog, it was not one that should reproduce (from an “improve the breed” perspective). We barely knew each other, but I gained a reputation for being kind but starkly honest...and I knew what I was talking about...and now I have this person’s deep respect, and they have mine (because they listened and did the research I asked them to - and did not add to the breed population). So it’s not *always* a trainwreck, because the people who end up respecting how I communicate, usually end up VERY close friends. AND I WANT THAT IN RETURN, which is refreshing for a LOT of people. I want your dead honesty in return - PLEASE. It’s so much easier for me to process and accept. For example, my house is almost constantly in some sort of disarray. I have one friend who will come in and go, “girl. I almost can’t breathe in here - this clutter is too much”(and then she offers to help me tackle it!!).

Or, fairly recently, “oh my god those curtains are so horrible, I hope you’re getting rid of those when you redo this room.”

“But I MADE those curtains! I love that print!”

“Ugh. No. They’re terrible. Get rid of them.”

My feelings were not hurt in the LEAST (I of course had a flash of “you bitch, I was so excited to find that print and I MADE THOSE, ya jerk” 😂). At first I said, “well you’re just gonna have to suck it up and deal with my shitty curtains, because I like them” 😂, but then as I was redoing the room, I took them down...and it DID look a lot better, so I left them down 😂😂😂....

So I guess my point with all this is: every autie I know deeply wishes you’d just fucking spit it out. We WILL often miss or misinterpret the point if you “fluff” it too much (around my neck of the woods, we call it putting too much gild on the lily, though I’ve never understood that one. Idk if a “gilded lily” is/was ever a thing, why anyone would gild a lily in the first place...LOTS of us struggle with colloquialisms that don’t make literal sense. 😆 Recently a friend was baffled over “shit in one hand and wish in the other and see which fills up faster”, and fully half of the respondents to her post were people baffled by why anyone would shit in their hand - I and a couple others had to explain, and it just ended with them going “well that’s a fucking stupid saying anyway, and wishes aren’t things you can put in your hands, either” 😂😂😂...but I’m from the south, and these things are just part of our vocab. MOST of them are easy to grasp for me, like “nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs”, because I immediately picture it and can grasp the meaning. But others I don’t get - the gilded lily is one LOL)...

We are LITERAL AS FUCK. It’s why we ruin lots of jokes, too. My poor husband is the dad joke king - and I ruin fully 1/3 or more of his jokes by being too literal (which he also finds amusing, so that’s good). Sometimes we realize we’re ruining the joke but we don’t care, because it’s dumb, or we just .... can’t....HELP IT. 😩😂

Jeez, I could almost write all day about autistics and communication LOL!!

But to summarize (and not succinctly, sorry), I guess, for me and many many others...we are often blunt, direct, almost painfully honest, and very, very literal. Your unspoken rules of communication absolutely go over our heads, unless you - yannow - *communicate* and explain them. We’ll probably tell you those rules are stupid and exhausting, but we will TRY and stick to it as best we can. But see, we literally have to think about every single word that comes out of our mouths, because we communicate far more directly than you weird fuckers do. And it is literally actually exhausting. It’s not an easily natural thing for us to adapt to, your weird way of saying things but not saying what you really mean. You’re wasting a LOT of words there, sir, and we are now getting obsessively confused over why you would do such a thing. 😂 It’s also why I keep getting banned from Facebook. My recent one was because I said - in one of my Autie “safe” groups, where I should be able to just say what I mean - that I tend to punch or want to punch people who deliberately startle the shit out of me. We were talking about how stupid April Fool’s Day was, and how we hate pranks. Three of us got banned for 30 days for just...well. Facebook called it “incitement of violence”. 🙄🥺🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼

But I haven’t met - yet, maybe? - an autistic person who is cruel natured - not one of us gets any joy from being a bully type. WE feel everything on a higher level, so we kind of assume you do, too...you might think, “then why are you such an asshole?!”, but it’s simply that we - or every Autie I know, anyway - struggle to grasp how directly communicating your feelings is so fuckin hard or hurtful for y’all. I think anyone struggles to grasp something they themselves don’t experience. All you have to do is explain, though, and keep guiding us towards communicating in ways that we both find acceptable. I mean we’re champs at accepting all manner of different human - regardless of race, sexuality, and so on - but the communication is one area that frustrates the ever loving SHIT out of most of us, because it makes so little logical sense why anyone would say a bunch of useless words that muddy up their intent.

My closing advice? Help Your Pet Autie ™️ (this is absolutely a tongue in cheek term btw) understand how you’d like to be communicated with, and guide us. BE SPECIFIC for fucks sake - we suck at guessing what you might want, and it’s so frustrating that we’ll often just stop communicating at all. Instead of saying “it hurts me when you say this”, try saying “the WAY you said this hurt my feelings because of ____. Maybe you could put it like this instead” (or, “you know, you should really just keep shit like that to yourself”) and *give examples*. Don’t expect us to come up with different ways of saying shit, because we don’t understand what it is specifically you want, and it’s not very logical, therefore it’s not “natural” for us. Plus, everyone is different. I can’t talk to one of my sons the same way I can talk to the other, without certain negative reactions. Give us a chance to know your needs - we DO CARE!!! - but be CLEAR. I know in your world, tact is a big deal, but MOST of us will miss the fucking point if you’re too tactful (and when we misinterpret, we always err on the side of worst case scenario, and make the issue wayyyyy bigger than it should be. Being clear is soooo important).

And hey. Maybe it’ll help clear up some communication in other areas of your life. Being clear isn’t a license to be a fucking asshole; nobody’s giving you a license to unleash on everyone about how much you can’t stand humans...if WE hafta be quiet about that, so do you lmao...fair’s fair. 😆 But quit hedging and hinting and hoping we will pick up on the whatever your grievance is - because we won’t. We’ll just know you’re unhappy, and start panicking over guessing what we did wrong, and just shut down, because we have no idea.

Just. Fucking. Say it. 😘

#asd #autism #autistic #acceptance #awareness #actuallyautistic

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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years

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Can you PLEASE elaborate on Nando's gay panic over genderbent Cell Block Tango??

I can’t even remember the original context I brought this up in, but it makes me laugh my ass off, so: absolutely, yes. Let’s go on a little journey.

- So where do I even begin when it comes to explaining this concept. Hm... let’s start here. I want to talk about how I imagine the layout of the Kiersey Drama club’s season. I’m taking heavy inspiration from the arrangement of the theatre group at my own college’s performances, which I’d say are pretty standard as far as college theatre goes.

- The musical is in the spring, performing in late March/early April. There’s also a fall production (always a straight play) that performs around November, then there’s likely something small in the winter, like some one-acts or something. The spring musical their biggest production of the year. The very last thing that the drama club at my college does each year is: right around the end of classes, they put on a variety show.

- It’s basically like you have to audition for a slot, and if you get one, you can perform whatever you want. It’s not exactly a talent show (although maybe the Kiersey drama club also does host a talent show, around October?), but it’s a fun low-pressure performance event.

- “Mel, no offense, but I’m bored. Why are you taking me through the scheduling practices of the Kiersey College Drama Club?” Alright, bear with me. You know how Quinn does Chicago his sophomore year?

- Right. So by sophomore year, Quinn has a small core group of theatre friends. There are a few members of the drama club who drive him crazy, but most of them are absolutely lovely people (I think I’ll formally introduce you guys to some of those OCs soon).

- Here’s what I imagine. Somewhere along the line in the Chicago rehearsal process, Quinn and his one friend, Cole, who played Connor in DEH, decide to go crash a choreography rehearsal for Cell Block Tango. Why? Because neither of them, obviously, is playing a criminal in the show, but they both enjoy choreography, and they’re friends with the girls in the number, and they think it would be funny.

- They show up, learn the dance moves, and have fun. Somebody makes an extremely offhanded comment about how they should do a genderbent version of the number if they’re so excited about the choreography.

- Which, who doesn’t love Cell Block Tango. In general. Who would not jump at the chance to do an entire song and dance number about murderous rage.

- Also, I need you to know that all of this was heavily inspired by this video, in which a handful of male Broadway stars do the exact thing I am describing.

- It’s Quinn’s bright idea, in the end. He sees the opportunity, and he’s like, oh my gosh............. we should do this for spring cabaret.

- Cue the random exchange of, like:

Quinn: COLE!!!!!!! Do you want to be a merry murderer??

Cole, slightly alarmed: Uh, I guess, but what’s the context?

Quinn: We need four other guys and we’re doing a social experiment. >:)

- They gather four guys who can dance. The fun part: three of them come from the drama club, and one is a certain exterior contact who may or may not have experience from drag shows and also the flexibility of an ice hockey goalie. :D

- You’ll only understand this next part if you know the show, or at least the song, but I want Quinn to do the Velma bit, specifically because of the line number seventeen.... the SPREADEAGLE because he can do a full split and would not hesitate to drop into one on that line.

- The point? This is literally just an excuse for Quinn to unleash his inner thot in public. Also, he gets to wear a mesh shirt and other indecent costume pieces. This is, after all, Chicago. I saw the show on Broadway, and I don’t exaggerate when I say the costumes were literally just more flexible lingerie onstage.

- Quinn choreographs, blocks, and directs the entire thing. They have a little jail cell prop, and they get Maggie (who plays Roxie in the actual show) to be the person at the beginning who introduces the number. She wears a sparkly bowler hat and a flapper dress. It’s iconic.

- I know that the likelihood of finding six college guys with a significant enough lack of shame to do this would be relatively slim in real life, but consider: this is college, and also it’s the theatre people. Quinn, Cole, and Ben are definite yes’s, then they can grab a timid little freshman to be the Hungarian one and you really just need two more. Thinking of the drama club members at my own college, I’m quite confident they could find two more guys to join them in this endeavor.

- Now I reach the actual point of the post, which is Nando’s gay panic.

- Here’s what you should know. Chicago is, as it’s designed, a ‘sexy’ musical. Quinn doesn’t really get to capitalize on the full extent of its sexy because he’s Billy Flynn, who doesn’t really wear anything racy. He does sing some great numbers and definitely demonstrates a lot of showbiz ‘sparkle’, but he’s not... sexy, really. He’s just a sleazy lawyer.

- Quinn acts so sweet and innocent, but for Nando’s eyes.......... the boy can get a little forbidden when he wants to.

- The point? He is fully aware that this performance is going to kill his poor unsuspecting boyfriend.

- He’s like, oh, honey, come to the variety show! We got Ben to learn our dance number and join us. It’s going to be so much fun!😇😇

- And Nando is like, yay! Supporting the drama club! Extra chance to see Quinn onstage! Fun spring Saturday evening!

Quinn: wears all black skimpy clothes, dances all over the stage, talks about literally committing murder, does the splits, et cetera

Nando: *Literally fucking dies in the audience because who in their actual right mind was expecting that????????*

- He’s in such strong gay panic that he isn’t even to fully grasp what he wants to say when he sees Quinn after. Quinn is all smug in his stage makeup coming out with his friends, like, sweetheart! Hi! Thank you for coming! And in his mind, he knows exactly what he did, and he is living for it.

- The only thing Nando manages to do is whisper something vaguely dirty into his ear in Spanish, and hold himself together for exactly five minutes before he literally carries him out of there because he has to get him alone ASAP. He is far too turned-on for his own good.

- It’s an entire experience.😂😂😂 Quinn, for one, is incredibly pleased with himself. He had fun onstage, and with Nando, he accomplished exactly what he set out to do.

#crickets #quindo #mini quinny #quinn theatre hours #nandoooooooo #actually he's cole #kiersey drama club

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one-of-us-must-be-crazy · 4 years

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"I can explain."

HERE YOU GO AND I’M NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR IT.

Turns out if I get really sick, light headed, and take cold meds, I’ll write some Explicit Things for you guys.

Enjoy and I’m sorry!

Christopher knows damn well what a ‘micro aggression’ is, he’s lived with this amazing human nearly a year, and they’ve been noticeably a couple in public for three months. He can pick up on small and delicate changes in human mood and social cues, he’s designed for it. Amanda’s teased him more than once by calling him a protocol droid.

But he couldn’t quite grasp the series of small remarks, quips, and too-close brushes against him throughout the day, not until she invited him directly into the shower that night. Oh. Seduction.

Processors and logic drives burned in him to think that a human found him worthy of that level of want and persuasion, and he appreciated it deeply. Not quite foreplay but a drawn out question of his mood. A drawn out, beautiful prelude of a question of consent, presented by Amanda in various states of dress and amorousness. And she did it for him.

That was two weeks ago. Not that they hadn’t had any contact during the fortnight, but it had been drowsy on Amanda’s part, gentle and slow–he likes it, it’s a sort of intimacy different from the rough and overt sexuality of some encounters that she’d initiated. Elements of trust, safety, and the implied security that Amanda must have felt to fall asleep next to him when they were done. If he had to choose a favorite form of contact, the slower, sweeter touches were what he gravitated to. His partner on the other hand….

Surely she might be waiting for him to initiate something along those lines now? She doesn’t usually go so long without starting something, or asking him if he wants to start.

Amanda’s in the bath now, and he’d love to join her, but if he does, the heat will make his environmental sensors buzz pleasantly, and he’ll get as close to ‘tired’ as a synthetic can get. And he does like simply….sharing the space with her, sometimes even squeezing in on the same side of the tub so she can snuggle into his chest and doze in lavender bubbles….

But perhaps she’s not the only one who may be a little–on edge.

He’s been watching her eagerly all day, looking for those minute little signs of dilated eyes, of biting her lip, watching him when he’s unaware. But nothing. Nothing different other than the usual beauty in the curve of body, the smooth muscles of her arms, and the scars across her here and there, the way her tattoos seem so much part of her that she could have been born with them, the contrast of her bright hair and pale chest against that low slung shirt she had on today. the first of the freckles over her heart visible, that constellation he loves to trace with his lips softly before and after giving attention to her breasts, or kissing up her stomach from between her legs, sharp hipbones and too-thin belly that makes him worry she’s not eating enough again.

Gods he could get lost in her. Shape of her mouth as she pouts, not really, it’s just her resting face but it looks so distraught that he finds himself wanting to make her smile even though he finds her distressingly beautiful regardless, her peach lips soft against his artificial skin–his surface fully laced with nerves, adjusting sensitivity to something close to a human, but sometimes, sometimes making it even higher to feel the exact imprint of her lips on his, on his chest, on the ugly ‘scar’ on his back where he had been torn open for make shift repairs on that same trip that gave her so many of her own scars. Her lips around his member, guilt eating at his core becuase she wasn’t getting anything out of this other than a sense of secondhand pleasure.

The faux muscles of his stomach tense as he recalls the memory of her kissing down them, lightly, lower, and lower, down his shaft to the very tip of his head before her tongue slipped under it and her mouth closed around him.

He could draw her fingerprints from how committed to memory her touch was.

If she knew the depths to which he adored her she’d recoil immediately, having told him to put a stop to worshipping her, to the hero idolatry but it was impossible to deny it in his mind, that for as short of a time as he was anything nearing sentient, she has been the center of his universe for most of it.

And she’s relaxing in their bath now, and if he doesn’t bloody do something she’ll fall asleep not knowing that he’s been looking for her all day.

“Chris?” she sits up in the bath, no shame between them, her breasts visible from under the foam. “You didn’t even knock?”

“I can explain.”

“Did you want to join me?”

“Not…exactly, I just thought that if you’re in the mood for a bath, perhaps,” he looks for words as he’d rather articulate the art of water droplets sliding down her skin. “You’d like a back rub?”

“A back rub.” she repeated incredulously.

“If you don’t, it’s fine, I only wondered if maybe–”

“No, no. It sounds fantastic, let me dry off first though,” she braces herself against the cool air and stands up. Mechanically he hands over her towel, trying to not look at her as she leans forward to dry her hair first. She’s quite flexible, he’s learned, delightfully, fantastically flexible.

“Ri-ight.”

“The couch or the bed?”

“What?”

“Back rub. You do mine and i’ll do yours?”

“Sounds fantastic, and…couch? That works.”

“Give me a minute, babe.”

“Of course.”

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“Oh, er, sorry.” he makes a motion to walk away, and when she says nothing else, he keeps going, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt in the mean time.

“I’m all yours,” Amanda standing, in her underwear and nothing else sits in front of him on their couch, and Samuels has to remind himself that her bra would have only gotten in the way of a back rub and that’s the only reason she hasn’t put one back on yet.

“Right…” She melts across his lap as he gets to work on this thing he’s done a dozen plus times for her, working out knots as she hums softly. Now what, now what to do, she can’t see him, but he doesn’t want to take liberties either, so he starts by trailing lower down her spine.

Or he could just activate one tiny line of code and she’d feel it with a positive or negative reaction or—

“Amy?”

“Yeah? Don’t stop…”

He doesn’t, but continues talking.

“I couldn’t help but notice that today you didn’t….seem–”

“To notice your bedroom-eyes attempts to seduce me?”

“WHat? No, no! I was–I was going to say that I was watching you and–I wasn’t trying to–oh.. Oh, no. If I’ve done this wrong–”

“Fuck, you’re cute,” she gets up, looks at him as if she was sizing up a difficult broken bit of equipment. “Do you want to keep trying, or get right to it?”

“Well you didn’t–leave much to…”

“I figured it would take you long enough to get just my underwear off,”

“Your confidence in my abilities does wonders for my self image,” he reaches for her, but she inches back.

“Not yet, keep going. Get me in the mood.”

“But–But your eyes are dilating and your heart beat is–”

“Physically I might be turned on but I mean mentally. You’re cute. Let’s see how much farther you can get.”

“Do…Do I lose if I don’t do it right?”

“No! Chris, if you want to learn this sort of shit, I’ll help but I’m not. I’m not going to tell you, you can’t have what you want until you’re perfect. It’s okay.”

“In that case, take off the pants. I want to see you.”

“Bossy. Works for you,” she starts to wriggle out of them gracelessly, but they’re not on the floor when she looks up to meet his eyes: “Yours too.”

“Only fair,” he pulls his shirt over his head, and pushes down his joggers. Amanda doesn’t ask for him to lose the boxers too, he’s amusingly shy about total nudity outside of their room.

“Now what?”

“Do I have permission first, to do several things in short succession that I don’t…typically do without telling you first?”

“Chris, full flat out hell yes to whatever’s in your–” he at her side, arm under her knees and another supporting her back as he scoops her up in one fast movement, “—mind.”

“I’m going to take you to bed,”

“Okay…” he walks her down the hall and into their room, dropping her softly on the bed; she catches sight of the erection forming beneath the cotton boxers with a grin and a sense that she should have called him out on his randy mood hours ago.

“Now….” he looks much less sure of himself than his voice presents. “Mrs. Samuels.”

“Mr. Ripley.” she leans back onto the bed, looking up at him. He’s tall, but so is she and she doesn’t fully appreciate it enough.

“Do you want….me to do this or,”

“Or what?” she tries, help the poor bastard a little.

“To quote you, would you rather you ‘fucked out my batteries?’”

“Get.” She hissed at him as he gingerly stepped out of his boxers, and turned off the lamp. “Down here….now.”

“Did I do it right?”

“Oh fuck, Chris, either you did or I’m just weak for your cute shit, come here,”

They don’t usually start with him on top of her, but she looks worn out already, and after watching her slide her own fingers into herself and out, he settles a fraction of his weight on her, she’s wet enough that he fills her easily, and she wraps her limbs around him tight as she can.

“So…successful?” he kisses her mouth softly before she can answer, it’s chastity a strong contrast to her clenching around him.

“Absolutely,” she answers, softly, truthfully, rocking her hips to his to encourage him to start, and when she does she sinks into the pillow, wide content grin, only for moments though as he starts to draw sounds from her throat she’s never heard herself make before she was with him.

#outreotter

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tycoons-official · 5 years

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Tycoons Off Duty (2017)

Run time: 6-10 minutes

Genre: Reality Show

Status: Ongoing

• 'Tycoons Off Duty' is a video clip series that is uploaded to Tycoons' official YouTube channel, showing their daily lives behind the scenes through raw, minimally edited footage either recorded in third person view or 'vlog style' as Tycoons wanted the viewers to feel like they are a further part of their life. The first vlog was released on the 25th of January, well over 3 weeks after promotions for 'Tycoons The Album' and 'MAFIA' are done.

• These clips show their slow/lazy everyday routines that mostly include watching television on the sofa, playing games and eating snacks together, or occasionally they'd go out to buy groceries, run errands here and there and maybe even greet fans on the side. Most of the time the siblings are even shown bickering, having silly fights and taking care of each other like how normal siblings do, and many people find these antics to be endearing, funny and —for the most part— relatable.

Cooking with Carmen (2017)

Run time: 15-18 minutes

Genre: Cooking Show

Status: Ongoing

• 'Cooking with Carmen' is a video series that stars Carmen cooking dishes and baking desserts of all sorts, whilst also showing off her culinary skills and using them to boost Tycoons' popularity. The series was created upon the fall season when Tyke has to go away to do his annual military service after doing his initial one.

• Carmen isn't as flashy with her 'acrobatics' around the kitchen as other chefs are, but she makes up for it in food presentation, flavor and aesthetic. The company's team also decided to occasionally allow a bit of ASMR to the videos before cueing back in with some soft accompanying music.

• Capos enjoy this series as it shows a different side of Carmen they'd never thought they'd see, being such a bold, sexy, stoic character on stage, and they found it fascinating and endearing. They seem to be highly interested in how Carmen could've become a chef instead of an idol by how talented she is (or, how talented she's made to seem) and made fanfictional 'alternate universes' or 'AU's where Tycoons are running a family-owned cafe with Carmen was the head chef and Tyke was the Barista. Tycoons themselves enjoy reading these fanfiction stories and get shocked or rather amused by how accurate or inaccurate the way their Capos interpret their personalities without even meeting them.

A Talk with Tyke (2017)

Run time: 15-18 minutes

Genre: Talk Show

Status: On Hold

• 'A Talk with Tyke' is a show that stars Tyke as the main host. It is predominantly a talking show that discusses upon several random topics ranging from school bullying to internet dating to socks, accompanied by funny animations and picture scenery inserts that filled the empty space of green screen behind Tyke, that would sometimes cut into view as he made mistakes while talking or if he's laughing too hard and needed a break or if he said something too funny that even the staff had to laugh. The show is often seen as a 'sibling series' to 'Cooking with Carmen' where his sister is mainly starred, and Capos seem to really like the coincidences.

• The show covers on a certain topic, as mentioned before, and at first Tyke starts talking a little more seriously about it but until the half end of the video is when he starts making jokes as funny edited scenes cut in from everywhere else. There have been recent collaborations with Tyke's own sister and other Tycoons Carmen, Stray Kids' Changbin and Woojin, TWICE's Momo and Chaeyoung, and Park Jimin of former group AOA.

• Capos that were also fans of a show called RuPaul's Drag Race often compare this show to one called 'UNHhhh' that features two of it's former contestants for it's comedic use of flashy edited pictures and sound effects, floating words and funny topics. They've dubbed it the 'Korean UNHhhh minus the drag', though again, this is debatable.

Tycoons' Secret Wish (2018)

Run time: 30-45 minutes

Genre: Reality Show

Status: Ongoing

• 'Tycoons' Secret Wish' is a show that stars both members of Tycoons and is about the idols meeting certain fans who have been struggling with familial, social, monetary or internal battles and had friends and/or family members secretly sent ask letters to JYP Entertainment's main building with the special secret wish code, also known as, 'I call upon the Godfather' as well as a proper reason as to why they wanted their friend/family member to join the show and have their idols see them in order to be accepted by the show. The show is meant to promote the idea that idols can help those struggling hard by listening to their concerns and offering moral support from said idols' experience. Being that Tycoons have witnessed and experienced unfair deaths, inequality and a deteriorating hope during their childhood, they are considered well versed in this moral giving concept.

• The series would always start with Tycoons leaving the JYP building and telling the viewers about who their visitee is, what their background is like, whom sent in the ask letter, and why they would need to send in the letter. Then the duo will get in their transport car with one of their managers and go to the location of the visitee and meet them by surprise which comes into the idea of a 'secret wish.'

• Capos enjoy the series and is dubbed by Vogue as one of the best foreign television series to ever grace the TV screens all over the world, however, this is of course debatable. Unfortunately this show was published a couple months before Tyke has to leave for his annual military service after serving his initial one, and had to stay on hold for a couple of weeks so Tyke can come back and rest, and also regrow his hair back.

Tycoons Off Duty

• In a scene from episode 15 of season 1 [by far the most controversial and popular episode to this date] the episode starts off with Carmen greeting the camera with a croaky morning voice ["Good morning Capos, and everyone who's watching this, Tyke's asleep, and I'm Carmen, and together we are Tycoons"] before momentarily setting it down on the kitchen counter, taking what looked to be medicine pills from the kitchen cabinet above her before bringing them, paired with a glass of water, back into the bedroom where Tyke was still sleeping peacefully on their queen-sized bed that they were sharing for the time being. She sets the medicine on the bedside table and proceeds to wake him up, with much convincing and bribing with candies, Tyke soon wakes up and takes the pills that Carmen just took out.

• People of course speculated what those pills could be and on one of their Vlives held not long after this episode aired, Carmen explains to some questioning fans that Tyke does suffer from an illness that needed medication and specified on it being depression. She clarified that she was giving him prescribed medicine given and approved by his psychiatrist and their agency. She even mentions earlier in the Vlive that she already asked permission to their manager about 'breaking the news' to the Capos. [By that she meant telling them about Tyke's depression]

• This ruffled some Korean Capos the wrong way and they began spreading rumors and derogatory comments about Tyke on his and his sister's social media, saying that they should just stop being idols if they had such severe mental problems or if they're just trying to use the illness as a marketing ploy to catch the attention of the public. However the international Capos praised Carmen for being transparent about Tyke's mental illness and Tyke himself for being able to carry out the duties of an idol whilst harboring a mental illness which they presume from other idols' lives and troubles to be extremely demanding physically and mentally.

• By breaking the flawless, perfect image that idols are supposed to uphold, Tycoons both knew that they were going to have to dip into hot waters and apologize whilst also defending themselves by saying that they hope that the media will understand and never forget that music is how Tycoons themselves cope with their internal troubles, and hoped that this terrible and toxic the privilege that fans feel over their idols' personal lives and information will never happen to them or anyone else.

Tycoons' Secret Wish

• In a scene from episode 10 of season 1, Tyke is seen asking his present manager at the time Hyejeong a request to the bathroom while a female fan came into the shot and head locked him, before dragging him towards a room, whilst Hyejeong fought and tried to free the poor idol in the girl's grasp. Carmen darted out of the visitee's room and threw a strong punch at the fan before they were separated by Tycoons' security sent to prevent mobs [or flying sasaengs] and keep the idols safe. The fan seemed to be crazed with awestruckness and love for Tyke as she was giggling and sending kisses towards his direction as he laid on the floor, still shocked and trying to process everything that had just happened.

• Apparently, the fan that had done this to Tyke was a sasaeng and Capos managed to find pictures of the girl at fan signs, concerts, airport arrivals and many more locations, and the visitee felt embarrassed to say that said fan was one of her kpop crazed cousins that originally introduced the visitee to kpop and Tycoons. The girl didn't end up apologizing in her apology nots even though she did say that she regret what she did but hoped to let Tyke notice her next time. [Edit: He didn't SKSKSK]

#tycoons #kpop #kpop duo #kpop oc #pinkocnet #tokyokocnet #kumokcn #kumokocnet #lofi #lofikocnet #woopkocnet #kocsociety

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winters-sweet-kiss · 5 years

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Fire Mage (Part 5)

Bucky x Reader

You’re Thor’s little sister who comes to Earth when the 9 Realms is in need. As the Goddess of Balance and Life, you have the power of fire, water, and other things that you aren’t sure of yet, due to your ‘young’ age. While you prepare for what’s to come next, you stay and train during your time on Earth. But maybe you have other reasons to stay...

“You may not want to believe it, but you are this. And nothing is going to change it. Now how about a little scream?” A heart-aching scream mixed into the empty void.

Her lifeless body limped as tears fell on her face.

...

You jolted up, almost headbutting James. His arms grasp yours while you did the same. You caught a glance of Bruce holding on to the seat beside Natasha's, looking like he was about to throw up.

"Hold on back there. It’s gonna be bumping," Natasha yelled as the jet heaved forward, causing James to land on top of you, his hands gripping your sides.

His hair covered your face as his mouth was right beside your ear. His hot breath made you shiver, your cheeks heating up. Another jolt of the jet as it tilted up, causing you guys to flip over. You straddled him while he held on to your waist, both of you staring into each other's eyes. You couldn’t move from his grip.

You wanted nothing more than to get off. But you felt safe somehow.

The jet tilted down, allowing you both to flip once more and, finally, break apart.

Never had you felt weirder.

“Sorry back there! The jet isn’t co-” The jet turned sideways. A string of explicit words in Russian filled the jet. James looked at me with one thought in our mind.

Another round of hits would kill us.

I rested my hands on the cool floor and closed my eyes. I tried to match my breathing to the hum of the craft and my heart to the pulses of electricity. Then I felt it, the energy. Everything in the craft, I could feel it; us, the gears moving, the hits it was taking to get us to safety. Tapping the energy I had left and combining it with the one of the ship, I prepared myself for the pain I was about to endure. I was becoming weaker and weaker.

Panic streamed inside me. I had to get out, I couldn’t breathe, brightness blinded me. I saw Steve on the ground near a creek, his stomach bleeding out, his eyes were closed but he was breathing. Bucky, his voice rang clear in my eyes. Bucky... James... He was scared, why? Was I affecting him?

Trying to push it from my mind, I blasted the ship away from the danger. My body tingled with electricity and my mind was ripped in half. Tears threaten to choke me. And sleep held me close.

...

“Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone on Coney Island?"

"Yeah, and I threw up?"

"This isn't payback, is it?"

"Now why would I do that?"

...

A giggle slipped past my lips as the memory drifted to the back of my head. A round of laughter when another one came to mind.

“Well, that’s something you never see... At all.” Opening my eyes, James reached his hand on my head. Natasha was leaning against the door.

“I don’t see any bumps or bruises.” I looked up as Bruce searched my head and arms.

“Did you know Steve threw up after going on a ...?” You moved your arm up and down to try to explain the word. You giggled again as three faces stared.

“O-on a roller coaster?” Bruce looked at James.

“Y/n, how do you know that?” James took my hands and engulfed them with his own. Calming down you pondered that question.

“Were you near me or touching me?”His cheeks turned red. I sighed.

“Landing at Avenger’s Base now.”

"Thank you, Friday." Natasha looked at me. "Do you think you'll be alright or do you ne-" I sat up and cut her off.

"I'll be fine." Bruce followed her out, leaving James and I alone in the small room. His face was still red and facing down. I grabbed his arm. "I didn't know you had shorter hair." He smiled and looked at me.

His blue eyes had a twinkle in them. The same that his eyes had when he was with Steve sometimes.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

...

"It's Asgardian. The weapon it has." We all were in the meeting room watching a video that Bruce managed to get from the base. In the video, two men were killed by black ooze that was starting to form into a man. It had a long sword the same colour as itself that was deep into one of the men running into the room. The creature was taking pieces of each victim and adding them to his forming and growing body.

It looked demonic. I don't think even Loki would do such a thing.

No, he wouldn't even dream of it. He may be evil at times but not like this.

"So, w-we have..., " Tony sighed and looked away. "Can we just..." He pressed something and the video disappeared.

The looks around the room seemed to match him, except Bruce who looked like he was going to vomit.

I would too if that was the first thing I'd seen of those creatures.

"Y/n, Loki. Both of you have seen and fought them, " Steve pinched his nose and took a breath. "Are those the creatures?"

I looked to where the video played a while ago. The men screaming in pain and the unforgettable sight of the demon's body played in my head.

"I was at a village that the demons had taken over; we were saving some villagers when we saw the demons do, " Loki paused and pointed towards where the video was. "That. I'm guessing that how they create more of themselves."

I sighed.

"They don't look like that, though. They look more..." I tried thinking of how to describe it but no words came out. "But this is the beginning stage."

The feeling of unease crept into the room and took ahold of our thoughts. The words I didn't say out loud echoed the room: this was only the beginning of what is to come. And it can only get much worse than this.

“I’m guessing that you all had it easier than we did?” Natasha looked at Wanda and Vision (whose names I learned just mere moments before).

“We saw the dark ooze you described, Ms Romanoff but not the creature. And the only ones who came in contact with it was Thor, Loki, and a corpse that melted as soon as it touched the ooze,” Vision told.

“So far, only Asgardians seem to not be harmed when touched by the ooze,” my eyes glanced around the room. “Well, when talking about who has been in contact as of now. That we know of.” I tried adding that last part to cheer up the mood.

It seemed that I still had not fully grasped Earth’s social cues. Everyone’s faces only portrayed how much darker their thoughts had drifted off to.

“For now, we keep searching for what the cause of this is, “ Natasha faced the three of us. “Do you know if you guys pissed off anyone that you know of?”

What?

“Loki always pisses people off. That’s his thing,” Clint chimed. “He’s not Loki if he doesn’t piss off someone.”

Loki does what to people? What is going on?

“Now I have helped you, mortals,” Loki defended. “It is not my fault you do not appreciate the gifts I bestow upon you.” He looked around at everyone as if they called him a vámr.

Sorry, you probably don’t know what that means.

It’s a loathsome, repulsive person in English.

But anyway back to the story.

The mood shifted as arguments were thrown.

Then Loki summoned his staff and Thor his hammer. The talking stopped and the voices started. Everyone was on high alert, ready for a fight.

But they weren’t.

Suddenly everything else was quiet except for those two voices. Pounding in my head; begging, pleading, praying.

Summoning their powers, I held out my hands as Scepter and Mjolnir flew into my hands. Their voices cheered up as they called out to me about how much they’ve been through and how a wash was much needed (either on them or my brothers was the actual question).

Poor things: the trauma of being a powerful Asgardian weapon must be stressful.

“You can hold the hammer?” Steve looked at me with question and awe. Everyone was still on edge but less than before. I glanced around the room and saw James’s face turned from curious to confused.

“Yes, I am worthy. Unlike my ungrateful brothers who cannot seem to care for them,” I glared towards my oaf of brothers. “Seriously, could you at least wash them once in a while?” I cradled the two weapons close to my chest, trying to give them some warmth and affection. “Poor things go through a lot having to deal with you two. The least you can do is thank them.”

“Hold on, you can talk to the hammer?” Tony gaped at me. Bruce did the same while Vision seemed to have questions he wanted to ask.

But he kept to himself.

“Well, of course, I can. It’s hard not to when it doesn’t stop talking. Now, where do you keep the items to wash your weapons?”

“Sister, please give me back my hammer. Loki needs to stay in his pl-” I shut up him with a stare that could stop an army.

Yet my father kept me away from the battlefield.

“If the two of you do not stop your quarrels by the time I am finished cleaning and tending them, I swear I’ll box the both of you so hard you’ll both wish you were your weapons,” Facing Tony, I put on a pleasant smile.

"Now about cleaning weapons."

...

I turned on the water as I washed away the dirt and grime from the wet, dark rag. As it turned out, weapons did not have to really be clean unless the owner wanted it to be.

Everyone had left to rest while Thor and Loki disappeared off with Steve and Tony.

Mjolnir and Scepter seemed to have relaxed and talked with each other about who knows what; they thanked me every once in a while or told me where I really needed to clean.

As the water was turning cold, a voice spoke.

“So do you talk to everything or is it just somethings?”

I jumped and turned around only to see James standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Dear Odin, you scared me.” He smiled before frowning and cast his eyes down to the tile floor.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright.” Turning off the water, I wrung the water from the rag and wiped Scepter. "I don't talk to all weapons, just magical ones really. They have souls." He nodded and glanced at me.

"So about earlier. On the jet, did you-" He paused and opened his mouth then closed it. "Did you really see that memory about Steve and me?" I nodded and looked at his eyes.

His deep blue eyes stared straight at me, trying to pick up any lie that said I made it up.

But I wasn't lying.

"My powers are something I still do not fully understand yet," I set down the rag making Scepter ready to curse James for making me stop. “I can do a lot but I only know how to control so little. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to peer into your mind like that.”

“Can you look into other people’s minds? Can you see or change anything? ”

“I do not know. Perhaps, if I practiced enough. But then again, I might not. ”

I could see him trying to form something; the answer I gave him was not one he wanted to hear. But it was the only one I could give.

“James, why are you asking me this?” He shook his head and walked backwards as if he was trying to fade away.

“I was... just wondering,” Bucky looked down as his face became one of sadness. I did not like that.

Perhaps I could show him one of those moving pictures that Anthony showed me that contains a funny story.

I believe it was called a mine.

Either way, it may bring him some joy.

“Wait, James. I-” As I walked towards him, my hand grazed Scepter and touched where the Mind Stone once was. Yet something else was there.

Suddenly I was not there.

I was in a mysterious, cold room with light pouring in from a small opening from above.

Words flooded my ears and the light got brighter to the point where it hurt to look it.

Screams filled the void before silence entered the room.

I could feel my father’s presence as his voice flooded the room.

Þú ert með tvo daga eftir, ungur.

“Y/n!”

James shook me as he yelled at me.

“James, sto- James!,” I grabbed his face.

He released me and stepped back.

“You froze and your eyes... Sparkled? Is sparkled the right word? I guess glossy would be better.” He continued talking and moved his arms around as if he could draw out his words.

He seemed better than how he was earlier.

“James, I do not know what you are talking about but you did say you watch the moving stories on the magic box with me. I have finished cleaning and they love a couple moments to themselves. So let us watch the moving stories together.”

James looked upset but he complied and went to the “living” room with me.

As Bambi (some moving story about woodland creatures), I tried thinking about what I say.

And my father.

But I tried to focus on the moving story and relax.

...

Never leave your weapons out in the open unguarded.

Rookie MisTaKeS

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #reader #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #fire mage

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wafflelate · 6 years

Note

An interaction with Shikako, Sai, and Kakashi - what's Kakashi's perspective on Shikako adopting socially-stunted Root agents?

hell yes more Sai. i love Sai so much.

takes place some time after the current chapter (ch 146/145) but doesn’t really contain any spoilers or anything.

I’m pretty sure that Kakashi hasn’t actually met Sai — Sai was at Naruto’s going away party, but Kakashi was in the hospital for chakra exhaustion. I didn’t check this very closely tho.

also i’m pretty sure that Shikako hasn’t told anyone about her water whip thing but I only like… scanned the Wave arc for that so who knows.

word count: 1973

————————————

There’s a stranger in Team 7’s training ground.

It’s not like Kakashi or his students ever actually book the training ground, because it’s rare for anyone but them to chose to train so close to the memorial, and most of the people who might consider it know that it’s Team Kakashi’s space. Still, there’s always some wayward unobservant chūnin or fresh genin looking for a place to train, and occasionally they end up here. They’re always easy to scare off, and if they get snotty Kakashi sends them to Gai’s training ground for all the training they can stand.

(This is a punishment for them and a favor to Gai. He loves helping.)

The boy in the field is about the age of Kakashi’s precious not-genin-any-more genin and he’s not even training. He’s leaning up against the training posts, lapdesk out, drawing. Kakashi will give him this: it’s an unorthodox use of a training field.

“Aa, this seems like something you could be doing anywhere,” Kakashi says as he drops into view.

The boy is not surprised. He looks up at Kakashi calmly and gives a slow blink. “I believe there are several locations where this would be difficult,” says the boy.

A shiver walks up Kakashi’s spine. The blandness of the boy’s expression, the flat look in his eyes… he’s not confused, or annoyed, or nervous. He’s not anything, not like he should be with Kakashi standing over him and hinting that he should get out.

Tenzō had been the same way when Kakashi met him. Untouchable and untouched. Not missing social cues so much as not even attempting to look for them, sorting every interaction into Orders and Not Orders. And Tenzō had had the same bland tantō, the same standard-issue shoes and slightly subpar equipment pouches.

“I have training scheduled here,” Kakashi says, “so this is about to become one of those places.” He does not waste a smile or a cheerful, friendly tone on this boy. He speaks flatly, directly.

Kakashi is the boy’s superior and he will order him away if that’s what it takes to keep Danzō’s grasp from closing in around his kids.

The boy smiles, a rearrangement of his face with no feeling behind it. “I checked the training ground bookings and no one was scheduled to use this field,” says the boy. “But I think we are here for the same training partner, because you were Nara Shikako’s jōnin-sensei.”

“Don’t be rude, I’m still her sensei,” Kakashi says, and then gives the boy a second look with this new information. “You must be Sai.”

“I am,” says the boy, and now Kakashi feels rude.

And even more worried, because Naruto has described his and Shikako’s occasional mission partner as ‘kinda weird, but good, y’know?’ and Kakashi had had no idea that Shimura Danzō had managed to get one of his lackies so close to the kids. What in the fuck is Tsunade thinking.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Kakashi says. “Why don’t we spar? I have to make sure Shikako-chan’s teammates can keep up.”

Kakashi had thought that he could depend on Tsunade to keep unsuitable mission partners away from his team, but apparently not. He’ll have to get a little more hands on, starting with a good evaluation of Sai.

“Yes,” Sai agrees blandly. “It is good to know if someone precious to you has teammates they can trust.”

The problem with ROOT agents is that you can’t even tell when they’re being threatening. Tenzō used to say things like, ‘I’ll gut you like a fish’ in the same tone of voice he’d say ‘I’ll lend you my whetstone’ and that tone of voice was wrong for both.

Sai tucks his drawings away and they fight. Sai is good, but uninventive. He uses a lot of the same moves Tenzō started out with, at least right up until he pulls out a scroll and a brush.

Kakashi has had this skill of Sai’s described to him a couple times by Naruto, with lots of enthusiasm and little technical detail, so he’s not surprised when chakra constructs leap of the page but he is surprised at how fast Sai can produce them. Faster than any Kurama Kakashi has ever known, although that’s not saying much — the clan heir that Anko is teaching is maybe the only one who’s ever attempted to use the Kurama clan jutsu for combat, a choice that has Shikako’s fingerprints all over it — and Sai has the advantage of working without color.

Shikako shows up when Kakashi is closing in on destroying Sai’s last ink beast. She lingers on the edge of the training field, cautious as always about interrupting even a spar as lazy as this one.

(Well, lazy for Kakashi. Sai has worked up quite a sweat. He’s not entirely useless, but he’s still probably the enemy.)

When Kakashi stops and looks towards where Shikako is waiting, Sai halts, too. Shikako practically bounces onto the field moments later.

“Sorry I’m late, Kofuku-oba trapped me with more questions about Shika’s arm seal,” she says. “Hi, sensei! I see you met Sai. And stuff.”

“Yes, we’re acquainted now,” Sai says. “I have been assessed to see if I have weaknesses that may lead to you being injured or killed while working with me.”

“Okay,” Shikako says slowly. She looks at Kakashi critically. “I’m sure that’s not exactly what you meant, right Kakashi-sensei?”

“I was just curious about his combat skills,” Kakashi says innocently. “Naruto is terrible at explaining things, you know.”

“Don’t bully my friends,” Shikako chides, like an academy teacher lecturing pre-genin to share their kunai.

“How come you always assume the worst of your poor sensei?” Kakashi complains. “I just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t break on one of your rough, scary missions.”

“It was a good spar,” Sai says. “I enjoyed having my skills assessed.”

Shikako looks suspiciously between them, dissatisfied, but eventually decides to move on.

“Fine,” she says, and claps her hands together. “Since sensei is so interested in making sure your combat skills are developed and well-rounded—”

“I never said that,” Kakashi objects, uselessly, because he can see where this is going.

“—he can teach you some new things!” Shikako says. “He knows lots of water jutsu, you know.”

“You teach him some water jutsu,” Kakashi demands.

Shikako blinks at him. “I don’t know any? I mean I guess there are some in that book you gave us, but…”

“You used water whip months ago,” Kakashi says. “Without seals. Teach him that, it’s B-rank.”

“What?” Shikako asks. “When do you think you saw me do a B-rank — are you talking about the chūnin exams?”

Kakashi says, “I understand it can be hard to remember what exactly you pulled out in the heat of the moment.to please the crowd.”

“You said that your chūnin exam fights in Grass weren’t very interesting,” Sai observes.

Shikako is such a liar. It’s actually almost embarrassing.

“Really?” Kakashi asks, keeping his voice mild and raising his visible eyebrow at Shikako. “I guess we remember those fights very differently. But you definitely used water whip.”

“Sensei, I did not,” grumbles Shikako. She crosses her arms and gets that look that says she thinks she’s going to say something embarrassing. “It’s just a dumb chakra trick. For chakra control. I can’t just teach it to someone unless they want to spend a year or two messing around with it.”

“A… chakra control exercise,” Kakashi repeats.

“I think it becomes a technique once you attack someone with it successfully,” Sai offers.

Shikako says, “Well, it didn’t really do anything.”

“That’s because you were attacking the Kazekage,” Kakashi says dryly. “What kind of chakra control exercises have you been doing?”

“I made some up,” Shikako says, which doesn’t answer the question.

“You attacked a foreign Kage?” Sai asks. He actually manages to sound like… something. Worried, maybe? It’s probably Kakashi’s ears playing tricks on him.

“He wasn’t the Kazekage yet,” Shikako grumbles.

She gets so petulant when people start talking about her like she’s impressive. It’s adorable.

“Show us your chakra trick.” Kakashi waves in the general direction of the stream. “It’s a good learning experience for all of us.”

“Sensei, you’re not getting out of teaching Sai something,” Shikako warns him, but she does lead them over to the stream and show them her water whip.

It starts with water scooped out of the stream into a hollow ball of chakra. The chakra becomes a cylinder. The cylinder becomes a whip, and Shikako uses it to smack an impressive splash out of the stream. Water, she explains, is noncompressible. Also she doesn’t really know how to use a whip but it’s an easy shape to make and more impressive than a staff..

How is it that Shikako still manages to surprise him all the time?

“How long can you hold that?” Kakashi asks.

Shikako shrugs. “I don’t know, I’ve never tried to test it. Two hours? More?”

“Well, I guess if your fight lasts that long it won’t be chakra exhaustion that gets you,” Kakashi acknowledges.

“Oh,” says Shikako. “No, that’s not what I meant. After a couple hours the chakra bleed would mean that I wouldn’t be able to reabsorb any of the chakra, it’d be all used up. But I’d still be able to make another one.”

Kakashi huffs. “Chakra cycling. For external chakra manipulation. And you didn’t think you should mention that?”

Shikako’s brow furrows. “Is it a big deal?”

Is it a big deal, she asks. Kakashi wants to laugh and cover his face. Instead he says, “You’re probably right that you can’t teach Sai that. So, fine. Water jutsu. But I want something in return. I want…”

Kakashi turns to Sai and lets a sliver of ominous intent work its way into the air between them.

Kakashi draws the moment out, watching the way Sai reacts — his shoulders pull back, his stance evens out. Preparing to take a blow, literal or metaphoric, but not scared for his safety, likely because he registers that Shikako is exasperated by Kakashi’s dramatics rather than concerned.

Tenzō used to tense by relaxing to accept a blow just the same way, especially when it came to receiving instruction. Kakashi catches himself planning how to fix that in Sai, too, and kind of hates himself for his own predictability. Maybe, at least, he can introduce Sai to Tenzō and his kohai will do most of the work?

“…drawings of my ninken,” Kakashi completes.

Sai’s eyes open a little wider. His mouth falls open for just a moment and he feels the need to glance at Shikako as it to make sure Kakashi is serious. His surprise is immensely satisfying.

Carefully — probably unsure if this counts as backtalk or intel gathering — Sai asks, “How many ninken do you have?”

“Lots! Which is why he’ll give you one jutsu for each drawing,” Shikako interjects, before Kakashi can snow Sai into doing all that work for one C-rank water jutsu. A look at Shikako shows she’s definitely going to stick to that, too. No arguing her down with that look.

Damn.

“Fine,” Kakashi says, aiming his best woe-is-me face at Shikako. “You work this old man so hard.”

She laughs at him. “Someone has to,” she says, like coercing him into sharing his precious jutsu with random Danzō minions is some kind of public service she provides for the good of the village.

At least now Kakashi will be able to keep a closer eye on Sai. The boy can’t very well disappear into whatever muck Danzō usually has him wading through when he owes Kakashi eight dog portraits. Shikako looks so satisfied by this arrangement that Kakashi wonders if this is exactly what she had planned.

#kiezh #asks #dreaming of sunshine #ask prompt #kakashi #sai #shikako #tenzou #kakashi all #sai all #shikako all #tenzou all #future fic #words words words

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school--shenanigans · 6 years

Text

Unter

This story was written for the Limousine Essay Scholarship, sponsored by the folks at this URL: https://limoservicesinmaine.com. Enjoy!

Being an Über driver, for him, was interesting. Which was not a phrase you heard often.

It was not for the pay, or any other reason most people might be inclined to choose the occupation, but it was, rather, more simply, a game. He called it Unter: German for “under” as Über was for “over”, and he played it for himself.

Well. He was the Devil.

No, the people themselves were what was interesting. They had their stories, their lives, their temptations. Hell got awfully boring after a while, and he had created himself an extension to the app, a way to keep score: swipe down if he’d succeeded in tainting a soul; up if they had eluded his grasp.

Lucifer congratulated himself when he won, and his frustrations when he lost were few and far between. Regardless of whether he won or lost, every conversation was fascinating, and he learned more about the Earth, about humans.

Michael, on the other hand, was not doing this voluntarily.

He had been assigned the position when some stupid transportation app had become popular, and it had occurred to some blasted fool to try to get out and save some souls using it.

Well, Michael was trying it out. He was trying to save souls. Hooray.

His assignment was to be driven places, and to simply talk to the driver, simply try to save them. It was not really his area. As far as he felt, it was something for someone who was more social, which he did not consider himself to be. Still, so far, he was actually doing impressively well, considering how much he didn’t want to be doing it.

Michael picked a café on the other side of town. He’d been trying to find good places to eat for ages, and was having little success. As usual, he pressed the first driver he saw available, and then sat, and waited, and thought about how miserable he was, and mourned the days when all he had to do was fight a big war or yell at some humans for stepping out of line. Because humans were always so similar, so boring, so weak and amenable to temptation.

In due time, the hearse slid up to the sidewalk with a salacious purr, and Michael blinked in surprise and double-checked, but indeed the driver was the same, and so he got in.

“A hearse?” he said.

“Er,” the driver said. “I have two jobs,” he said.

“Right,” said Michael.

“Just the café, then?” the driver asked.

“Just the café,” agreed Michael, buckling the seatbelt. The driver was tall, sandy-haired, and wore a suit and bow tie. Michael had a coffee stain on his shoulder. It hadn’t been his fault. “How has your day been?”

“Picking up,” replied the driver, frowning, easing out onto the street. He was setting a painfully slow pace through the city. Michael was prepared to smite his Über rating down to three stars at best for it, and that many only if the conversation got much more interesting. As if on cue, the hearse driver broke the script. “Champagne?”

“Is that legal?”

“I’ve no idea, but the champagne’s good.” There was a tall glass in the driver’s hand, and Michael had no idea where it came from.

“No, thank you,” said Michael, coolly, desperately wanting it. “I don’t like alcohol,” he lied.

“Suit yourself.” The driver shrugged, and swirled the glass, and sipped it.

“I don’t think you should be drinking that while you’re driving.”

“Yes, probably shouldn’t be.”

There was a long pause.

“So … you should put it down.”

The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror, regretfully, and set the glass down. Michael noted it with relief – hopefully, he would be able to do this. But seriously, saving a soul in less than thirty minutes was more of a lightning round than anything else; it was genuinely foolish in the archangel’s opinion to expect anything too lasting out of it. Michael figured it would have been easier to just flash his wings and let the folks Upstairs deal with it, but no, they said they had to be more subtle nowadays, and that it was just showing off.

Ugh. Admin.

The first step, of course, was not to jump in with talk of “soul saving” – humans turned off their ears at that. Rather, you had to evaluate the target’s state in total; test to see how much they needed a push in the right direction; see what techniques would work best.

“So what’s going on with you?” he asked, not because he cared. “How’d you get into driving?” He hesitated. “Er, not in general, of course; I mean, er, Über.”

“It’s just fun,” said the driver.

Michael didn’t know how to respond to that.

“The people,” explained the driver. “Always interesting to talk to. I’ve got a game, see, sort of, with my Dad. Trying to convince people of a … thing, before they leave. It’s hard to explain, but I’m keeping score.”

“Convince people of what?”

“Turn left in two hundred feet,” said an electronic voice.

The driver turned the corner, seemed to consider. “Well, that’s part of it. If I tell you, it defeats the point of the game. You have to try to convince people before they know that they’re being convinced, see? More effective that way.”

“Huh.” Michael considered this. Gambling, sort of. Playing games with people. That seemed questionable. “So what happens if you win enough?”

There was a long pause. “I … huh. No one’s ever asked that. Presumably, the world ends, or something. Or maybe I just get to have bragging rights.” He shrugged.

“Why’s it so important to you?”

The response was more immediate, and sharp. “It’s high-stakes.” The driver’s hands tightened on the wheel. His mouth was a thin line, and the tense atmosphere took far too long to dissipate – forcefully, he relaxed, smiled slightly. “It’s been going on all my life, really.”

“A disagreement?”

“Of a sort.”

“I don’t mean to pry,” Michael prompted.

“No, no. Nobody has ever asked.” The driver hesitated, and drummed his fingers on the wheel. “I suppose it’s silly. It was a long time back. Let’s just say I … fell. Out of favor. With Dad. Er. Don’t worry about it. What about you? Life story?” He chuckled, and Michael found it in him to smile.

“Nothing so dramatic. More sort of, trying to inspire people to be better.”

“Oh.” The driver sniffed. “One of those types.”

“No,” said Michael, quickly, horrified by the very idea. “No, more of a … er.” Ah.

“Hmm.”

“Mmm.” Michael was inclined to agree.

“Good and evil,” said the driver, carefully, turning a corner, “are not absolutes. Every party thinks they’re right. That’s why there’s fighting.” He stared at the road ahead, thoughtfully.

Michael frowned. “I suppose so. But there’re some things that are evil.”

“Oh, of course. As far as actual evil, yeah, that’s a thing. I would know.” The driver laughed. “It’s more fun to just be bad, actually. I mean, if you follow every assignment, order, or expectation you’re given down to the letter, it’s boring, isn’t it?”

The angel paused. “Yes,” he agreed, wholeheartedly, and the driver smirked. “Yes. On the other hand, sometimes orders are for the best.”

“True,” said the driver, after a moment, and the archangel in the backseat looked down to hide a sly smile. It would seem he was succeeding, so far. The man didn’t seem to be that bad, after all. It shouldn’t take much to push him in the right direction.

It shouldn’t take much to get him to damn himself, thought Lucifer, pleased. The poor guy seemed to have a sort of annoyed air, as though he was doing something he didn’t want to be doing, and those were the easiest to exploit. He just needed to coax him a little further.

“So,” he said, casually. “Your business getting you down?”

“Honestly, I’d love to get out of here.”

“Here on orders?”

“You have no idea.” The man stuck out his tongue. “It’s the most dreadfully boring thing.”

“The champagne is still available.”

There was a pause, and Lucifer lifted the glass again, offering it back. The man took it and drained it. Lucifer hummed for a moment, pausing at the traffic light.

“Recalculating,” said the GPS.

“I welcome death,” Lucifer said to it.

His passenger remained silent, and Lucifer watched him in the mirror. He seemed a little familiar, in an odd sort of way. He held himself like a warrior, and Lucifer thought he might be a very brash type.

“Do you know much of theology?” the passenger ventured.

Lucifer sighed. “You could say that.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing. My father was very … religious.”

“Oh, mine too.” Michael stared moodily down at the empty champagne glass in his hands, twirling it in his fingers.

It occurred to Michael that this man was almost there, not quite; it would not take much to sway him towards the better side. He likely just needed proof that he should get his act together, proof of the divine.

Well, it wasn’t his fault he didn’t have quite enough time to turn someone’s life around in a cross-city car ride. Which, it seemed, was ending now. The car pulled to a stop.

“Hey, what’s your name, by the way?” the driver said, absently.

“Michael. Yours?” To hell with it. Michael glanced around at the tinted windows – no one would see; was it really showing off if it was just to one person, one who would never tell? And it was such a good cause.

He made a decision, and the feathers unfurled in the backseat of the hearse.

A pause. The driver heard the rustling of the wings and looked up from the app, which showed the page on which he was meant to rate his passenger. He gazed at Michael in the rearview mirror and then reached up, adjusted it slightly. “It’s been a long time,” he said, conversationally, beaming at him in the reflection, and then added, “It’s me. Lucifer.” A second glass of champagne suddenly manifested itself in his hand, and he raised it in mock toast to Michael.

“… Wait,” said Michael, suddenly alarmed.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, glanced at his phone, and very deliberately swiped down.

“You have reached your destination,” said the GPS, helpfully.

#stories #writers on tumblr #writing

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dong-hyucks · 7 years

Text

Dating Kris Would Include …

Masterlists

so the two of you had known each other for awhile when the spark hit you guys

you’d been a makeup artist for sm longer than he’d ever been signed, and when you first saw one another,,, it was like automatic hatred

he’s so stoic and you were so hyper, but of course, you were assigned to be his artist. [inward/outward groans and eye rolls to follow]

“are you kidding me? why are you so still all the time, but then when you sit down for me to do my job, you can’t stop moving?” “sorry, staring at your face for a prolonged period of time makes me uncomfortable …”

you had to refrain from smacking that smirk right off of his face

once you’d finished his makeup, he launched himself out of his chair and went straight for his phone

“seriously?” “my phone is my life, (Name), shut up.” “maybe that’s why you’re so anit-social?”

yeollie butts in, “aannnddd she takes home the prize for the correct answer!”

you laughed, and walked over to yeollie, baek, and chen … chatting it up with the beagle line

kris is sUpEr jealous, but like, hatred,,,, y’know …

“i’m the only one who can subtly flirt with (Name). it’s only mE.” luhan’s trying to mind his own business but he just cAn’T

luhan internally: ┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬

luhan externally: ┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬

he’s creepin hard.

when you come into work the next day, kris is oh so conveniently trying to order your favorite drink (that you knew he hated). you had to wipe the grin off your face before going to talk to him

“so kris ,,,,, whatcha doin’??” the poor man almost fell over dead, he was so scared. you almost fell over dead laughing …he did not appreciate that

“i’m getting a drink (Name), god.” “my favorite drink?” “i just wanted to see if your coffee is as bitter as you are.”

the idea of self-restraint was buying its ticket to the bermuda triangle. it will soon never be seen again.

after he gets the coffee, you slip it right out of his hand, and dash to the elevators. kris runs after you, “(Name) get back here! you know i’m cheap! that drink cost fOuR dOLLeRs!!”

he got to the elevators, but you had a trick up your sleeve.

the two of you were inside, but it stopped on the next floor up

coffee in hand, you planted your hand on all of the buttons and made your way down. on your way out, you pressed close.

“have fun being late, loser! and, thanks for the mocha! i’ll be sure to enjoy!” his eyes were wide-open, and frozen, and his mouth was gaping as the doors shut.

all you could do was laugh

opening the door to the boy’s dressing room, you walked in, placing the untouched drink on the makeup station

“he forgot the extra shot of espresso.”

“who did??” luhan’s voice made you jump.

“none of your business, lu.” “ooo does (Name) have a cRUsH??!!” “oh my god, shut up.”

surprise,,,,

he doesn’t ….

“oH! is it jinwoo! the barista downstairs,,, he’s kinda cute! i can see you with him” no he cAn’T “what the hell?! lu, no, it’s not jinwoo!”

here he comes ┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬

“so you admit, you have a cRUsH!!” “nO.”

“stop lYiNg, you piece oF tRaSh!!”

“….maybe,,,, i do.”

*cue weird man screams*

“i kNEw iT!!! TELL ME WHO IT IS (Name) (L/N)!!” “nO wAy, lu, eVeR!!” “wHy tHO?!!”

“BECAUSE I DON’T tRUsT yoU!”

“wow, this ,,,, this is what betrayal feels like? i can’t believe it …” luhan clenched his heart, and you burst into laughter. punching his shoulder lightly.

“you’re my best friend but,,,, no.”

“(NaME) (L/N)!! i aM gOinG tO MUrdER YOU!!!”

in that moment everything froze. the managers stopped chatting, xiumin and sehun looked up from their phones, tao pulled his nose out of his gucci magazine, yixing and kai woke from their peaceful slumber, and even the beagle line stopped messing with junmyeon and kyungsoo. you were the only one to move.

you shot up and out of your spot on the couch, running towards the exit on the other side of the room.

!!! GoTTa bLaST !!!

“catch me if you can, loser!” “(Name), your legs are so short! they can hardly take you anywhere!” “be quiet, sehun! no one asked your opinion.”

you didn’t have time to make fun of him more,,, you had to run.

it’s been almost fifteen minutes, and you’re starting to get tired. it’s getting hard to breath, so you hide behind a door, where you think no one else is,,,

second surprise!!!

“kRiS??!”

“shhh, the managers are mad. they have looks that can kill,” he hissed, placing a hand over your mouth. that was a mistake.

you licked his hand, and he snatched it away. you laughed triumphantly, not realizing what you’d just done.

“did you just ,,, lick me?” “i did” “…” “oh god, what have i done.” you slammed your head into the wall, and it was deafening. you sprung back, not meaning to hit it that hard.

kris couldn’t hold back his laughter.

the managers found you, and they immediately thought the worst …

this day that started perfectly, turned into one of your worst nightmares.

the words on the pink slip of paper was the most heartbreaking news you’d ever received in your life. and once, you hit a cat on the road, and tried to go back to help it

‘Miss (L/N), we must regretfully inform you that you are fired. Due to suspicious circumstances concerning you and an idol, you are being let go. Your contract has been terminated, and you must be out of the building by 12 this afternoon.’

tears pricked at the back of your eyes, and you realized that you had to pack up your station and say your goodbyes in just two hours.

you made your way to the boy’s dressing room, and tried to keep from crying. immediately, the boys noticed something was wrong, and they came over to you, looking worried.

silently, you showed them the pink slip, and some gasped, while others were speechless.

the first to move were xiumin and chanyeol. xiumin wrapped his strong arms around you and hugged you for a few seconds, some of his own tears splattering across your soft, cotton t-shirt. chanyeol was next, and he rested his chin on your head as he hugged you, swaying back and forth a bit.

chen, baekhyun, and sehun were the next ones to come up to you. chen took your hand in his, and gave it a squeeze, offering you a wordless “it’ll be okay.” baekhyun was after him, and he gave you a little kiss on the cheek, whispering in your ear, “(Name), this isn’t the end, y’know.” sehun stole you away, his face downcast. “I’ll let you make fun of me any time, (Name), don’t worry …” his sad smile broke your already fragmented heart.

tao and kai followed. tao cupped your face, and brought you into his chest. he slowly let his tears fall … over the years, you’d grown extremely close to the china-line. kai grasped your hand in his velvety soft one, and he offered you a gentle grin. “this doesn’t mean anything, (Name), we’ll still see each other every day,” he promised.

suho and yixing came after they stepped back. suho’s eyes were teary and he was at a loss for words. all he did was hug you tight and lift you a bit from the ground. once he pulled away, yixing took his place. lay stared at you for a few seconds, inaudibly watching you fall apart. he grabbed your right hand, and he spinned in a circle slowly. when you faced him again, he chuckled and wiped the rivulets that had fallen down from your eyes.

luhan and kyungsoo, two of the most controlled and calm members, were bawling. luhan, though he was one of the last, ran to you and gripped you in a hug that knocked the breath out of your lungs. his shoulders shook violently as he sobbed into the crook of your neck. kyungsoo had to pry him off of you to say his own goodbye.

“(Name), you are very special to us. You’ve taken care of us when we needed it, and offered us help when it was necessary. In this world, full of stars, you shine the brightest, and every one of us loves to stargaze. We’ll miss you, (Name).”

at that moment, you shattered.

you hugged kyungsoo with the force of a hundred elephants. he stumbled back a bit, and he laughed sullenly, shielding the others from seeing his tears by hiding his face in your shoulder.

“that’s shi-”

all of the others glowered at kris as he snatched the pink slip out of your hand

“suspicious circumstances concerning an idol …”

his face turned ghost white. “oh god, (Name). behind the door. oh god, oh god, oh god … this is my fault …” you shook your head rapidly and put your hands on the outsides of his arms.

“kris no—”

“yes!” “kris, don’t make this harder—” “at least let me walk you out, (Name) … please?”

reluctantly you nodded, scrambling around to pack up your things

the ride in the elevator was hushed, and neither of you spoke. but, sometimes words are better left unsaid.

the two of you exited the elevator, and you went to get one last coffee. you handed the cardboard box to kris, and told him where to find your car.

when you came back out, oddly enough, you were holding two coffees. one for kris and one for you. it was your last hurrah as a makeup artist with sm; one final thing to make your memory stand with kris.

but he did you one better …

with both of the drinks spilled over the back of your car, he brought both of his hands to your face, and kissed you.

smack on the lips.

you felt like a little school girl, having your secret crush kiss you on what used to be your playground.

“I guess those mochas aren’t as bitter as I thought.” you pulled him in again, and then came another snarky remark. “I hope we’re not too suspicious. that would be problematic.”

at this point, the job didn’t matter. you had left earth, and dropped all of its baggage on the way up.

you loved that feeling.

wowie, 1.7k words to get to the actual thing lol ;-;

okay, so dating this secret floof would be the cutest thing.

kris is like, forever in his teen angst phase, so, you always have to pull him out of the house to do stuff.

“we’re going to karaoke with Ryu and Mina! it’ll be so fun!” “(Name), i don’t sing. i’m a rapper.” “no, you’re my boyfriend, and i have enough dirt on you to fill a million construction sites.”

“i hate you, y’know.” “love you too, kris~”

he ends up enjoying everything more because he’s with you.

“you always find the beauty in things.” “do you find beauty in this??” “you? oh,,,, nah.”

now that you’re not an employee you can actually hit him.

you guys would never ever use nicknames, you’re just too close, and it doesn’t feel right when you call him “honey” or “babe” and vice versa

also, you guys would never cuddle, like, ever (unless either of you guys were sad or sick or something)

you guys are actually the perfect mix of calm and chaotic, and it’s adorable.

like, he’ll be reading on the couch, completely minding his own business while you’re looking for a new position as a makeup artist, but once you get bored, you legit just jump on him.

“kris, i hate looking for a job.” “and?” “i just hate it.” “well, someone’s gotta pay the bills for the rest of our lives, and it’s not gonna be me.”

“aren’t you supposed to be the man of the house.” “i’m only that when i want to be. now, go look for a job.”

in all, you guys would be the cutest couple when you aren’t mad at each other.

which brings me to the point i’m excited sad to have to talk about.

fights

so, you two are probably the most stubborn people in the world. and most of the time, with stubbornness comes a temper, but that’s not the case with either of you.

neither of you guys have a short temper. so, it takes a lot for you to get angry with each other.

but, when he missed multiple anniversaries back to back, you began to get fired up.

“kris, what’s today?” “it’s the 16th of October, why?” for a few seconds you were silent, then you scoffed.

“you really forgot … and this is the third time.” “what? what’d i forget this time?” “no, you asshole, figure it out by yourself.” “oh jesus, (Name), stop being to dramatic and tell—”

before he could finish, you slammed the door in his face, and walked to the bar down the street.

still oblivious, he called luhan and had to ask him why today was such a special day.

“oh my god, kris, this is the third time! every year, you forget!” “forget what?!” “your anniversary, you giant idiot!”

with those words, kris suddenly felt dizzy and a bit sick.

“oh god, what have i done?” he asked no one in particular, forgetting luhan was still on the line. “you’ve been a douche to (Name) for the third time in your relationship. you better keep an eye down below, one of these days i might just come by with a pair of scissors.”

he shuddered at the thought of luhan showing up with a pair of rusty blades to do something less-than-desirable to a part of him that he wasn’t ready to lose just yet.

the next few days were spent in an unsteady silence

you wouldn’t pick up his calls, and he had decided to wait your punishment for him out.

but, while the minutes on the clock ticked by and the restless drumming of his fingers grew too much for him to bear, he drove to your friend Mina’s house, and tried to persuade her to let him in

“Mina, i need to see her.” “but she doesn’t want to see you.” “i’m sure she doesn’t mean that.” there was a few seconds before a response, but he was relieved when he heard your voice.

“oh, so you didn’t forget to come check on me? what am i to you? a kid?” you rapidly fired questions at him, and he was appalled at what he was hearing.

“no, (Name). I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, and I completely understand if you want some space for awhile.” the door cracked open a bit, and he caught a glimpse of your puffy, tear-streaked face. “you know it’s the first thing i want, but, it’s the last thing i need.” you sucked in snot, and he wrapped his arms around you in a tight, reassuring hug

“i love you more than the world, (Name).”

“i love you too, Kris. so much.”

all in all, you guys would cherish each other, and even though you’re not the most lovey-dovey, you make up for it in how much romance is actually hidden within your relationship. he’ll cook meals for you, he’ll read his books to you, he’ll share his feelings with, but most importantly, he’ll tell you how much you mean to him. and you would do the same.

which is all the two of you really ask for.

#admin cj #kris wu #kris #wu yifan #kris imagine #kris bullet imagine #dating kris would include #kris imagines #kris scenarios #yifan imagines #yifan scenarios #x reader #kris x reader #yifan x reader

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high5nerd · 4 years

Text

The Misadventures of Fanty and Loki---Chap. Five

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Pretty please with sugar on top?" Fanty gave him her best puppy eyes, her lower lip quivering.

Loki growled and fisted his hair. She's been keeping this up for three days. It was getting annoying! She certainly wasn't giving up, and he hated to admit it, but he had to give her credit for pursuing a dream, even if it was insane. At the moment, Fanty and Xion brought Loki to a bakery called Peaberry's. Fanty and Xion, as well as the other four girls, came to this bakery if there was nothing left in the fridge or the pantry for breakfast. Xion very smartly suggested that they bring Loki along, so he could learn to be in a socializing area without him killing, torturing, knocking out, insulting….you get the picture. He was just to act like a normal human being.

It was actually very hard for him.

Loki Laufeyson is considered an Asgardian, no matter what his real heritage is. (Mostly because his real Jotun father is an a-hole, but that's not the point). Asgardians are educated and trained since they first grow out of nappies about bravery, war skills, tactics, culture, power, and who rules the realm. Loki's known all of it, and although faced with some differences like he's not as strong as Thor, his elder brother, he uses his cleverness and cunning skills to get him out of trouble and is a great expert in throwing knives. The point of me telling you this is that Loki never really socialized. Unless with his family or his enemies, fighting or eating or just talking, he'd read to his hearts content and learn more magic. That's the equivalent of a teenager only talking to family and friends on rare occasions, but then playing videogames in his locked room until midnight.

...Come to think of it, it sounds a lot like the author herself.

WHAT?!

Anyways! This was Loki's chance to see the realm of Midgard with different eyes, mostly in the way that Fanty and Xion see it.

To be quite frank, it didn't start off so well.

The first thing that happened was that right when they walked in, a baby started screaming at the sight of Loki.

Fanty was scared out of her shorts, cursing under her breath at the startling noise. Loki stared, horrified at the baby as it sobbed and kicked his legs in fury to get out of the bakery, hell, even out of the state. The mother was confused, and tried patting his back but to no avail.

Xion looked at Loki, and was slightly calmer knowing he was wearing the green t-shirt and jeans he wore a while ago. But when she glanced at Fanty, she saw the pure terror in her eyes. Xion knew that Fanty somewhat believed that animals and babies can see evil or good auras, and she was afraid if the baby could tell if Loki was of the latter.

Loki glared at the baby finally, flicked his fingers in the direction of the infant and muttered a spell,

"For ditt angre, er du forstummet. En time du så være."

The baby's screaming stopped, and he looked so shocked at his silence that the mother thought he had an accident in his pants. Loki smirked, but quickly lost his smile when Fanty and Xion shot him a glare.

"No magic!" Fanty shook her finger, and Loki rolled his eyes.

Loki was brave enough to try a stuffed croissant with some tea, to which he seemed to like enough. Fanty knew he would have no problem adapting to the foods here, for who knows what Asgardians ate for meals.

"I hate to bring this up again-" Xion happily chatted between bites of a warm brownie.

"Then don't." Loki muttered, but Xion continued anyway as if he didn't say anything.

"But how were you capable to almost destroy an entire city?"

"Ooh! Ooh! I know!" Fanty's hand shot up in the air, as if she were an excited student. Literally, she was almost hopping in her seat. Xion couldn't help but giggle and pretended to be like the teacher, looking at all the other hands besides Fanty.

"Let the pupil tell you, she clearly knows everything about me." Loki sarcastically encouraged, taking a dainty bite of his croissant.

"He was stupid enough to get an entire alien race to attack NYC so he could rule Midgard, but he forgot that there's more planetary frontier than just an expensive and showoff city and managed to get an entire race extinct. Oh, and the Hulk basically beat him up like a rag doll."

"LIES!" Loki objected, but knowing full well as truth.

"Really? Then what about this?" Fanty gave him a superior smirk and whipping out her ipod.

As if on cue, a viral video of Hulk slapping Loki around like a chew toy started, and to Loki's horror it caught his terrified face as the Hulk ultimately slammed him into the stone ground, causing the floor to crack around Loki's body at the sudden impact. Hulk walked off muttering, 'Pfft. Puny god.'

Xion snorted, "Aah! That was the funniest video I've ever seen since the cat playing the piano!"

"How do you know that is in fact real? What if someone acted it out?" Loki raised a brow, hoping it would trick Fanty into double thinking.

"Pfft, yeah right. The internet is always right!" Fanty said, turning the screen back to her.

Loki looked away, growling. "I thought this was supposed to be fun…"

"It is! Here," Fanty took his head in her hands and pointed his line of sight to a table far away from them, near the large window and the bookcase full of old books and recipes. "What do you see?"

A man was happily chatting with another woman, who looked interested in what he had to say and occasionally gave her thoughts to what he just stated, but often listened. They both wore simple sweaters and jeans, and the woman had long hair tied up in a bun. The couple were both enjoying a single plate of carrot cake, smothered in butterscotch syrup. Loki made a face. He's never been fond for romance.

"A husband and a wife, talking about their own matters. Why?" he looked back at her, but Fanty shook her head.

Loki was getting irritated. That was exactly what they were! Did Fanty not notice the thick gold rings on their fingers? Xion was interested at this moment, maybe even a little confused. What was Fanty planning?

"Look closer. Don't think about what they look like." Fanty suggested, whispering it so no neighboring customers would hear her.

Loki looked back in time to see the woman looked overjoyed at something, and then lace her fingers with his happily, and the man blushed while smiling.

"Love?" he looked back at her, and he could tell by Fanty's grin he was right.

"Fanty, what on earth is the point of this?" Xion asked, biting into her sprinkle cupcake.

"Yes, I am wondering the same question." Loki glared at her, not understanding her goal at all.

"You'll see. Look over at the guy behind the counter, the one with the facial hair." Emma gestured at the salesman with her head, since pointing is very rude.

Loki looked in the direction of the man, just in time to see him start laughing at something his fellow employee said. He was laughing so hard he had to hold his big stomach, getting flour and icing stains on his apron. The younger employee looked proud for making her boss laugh, and folded her pale arms happily that she was able to make someone smile. After her boss calmed down, he gestured to the pies, and the girl obediently nodded and continued cutting slices, both of them grinning at some joke she said.

"Amusement?" Loki guessed, starting to get where this was going.

"Good. How about that one over there? In the corner?" Fanty said, directing her line of sight in the fellow's direction.

He was sitting by himself, looking no more than eighteen himself. He had messy blond hair and quite a sad expression on his face, his hands jammed into his pockets as he slouched against his seat. The chocolate cake he ordered didn't seem to make him any happier. He looked lonely…

"Lonely…" Fanty caught that hint of compassion in Loki's voice.

Fanty fist pumped the air, her goal within her grasp! Xion looked at her in awe, getting where she was going.

"I get it! You're trying to make him see that mortals aren't just objects to be ruled over! That they're more than just mindless beings?"

"Eloquently speaking, yes." Fanty nodded, then turned to Loki proudly, "Ain't that right Lo-?"

He was gone.

Fanty looked around, feeling her heartbeat quicken with worry. "Loki?"

"Damn, not again." Xion groaned, slumping against the table so her head made a thudding noise against the table.

"Wait, no! Look!" Fanty jostled her to sit up, and pointed in the previously lonely dude's direction.

Across from him sat Loki, looking very serious and nodding as the boy talked to him, his expression of sadness ebbing away a bit. Loki looked as if he was understanding him a bit, and even went far as to make him at least smile by saying something Fanty and Xion could not decipher.

"I really hope he's not telling him to kill someone as revenge." Xion worried, biting her fork.

"Loki's pretty manipulative, but not that manipulative." Fanty gave Xion a knowing look, who still looked skeptical of that statement.

They watched Loki talk seriously with the boy some more, until finally, Loki stiffly gave him his hand and weakly smiled. The boy looked from his hand to his face, his eyebrows rising. He said something that made Loki's smile disappear, but then the boy grinned and shook his hand, regaining Loki's hesitant smirk. The boy said one more thing before running up to the counter, paying a couple of crumpled bills and ran out the bakery, struggling to pull on his jacket.

Loki strode back over, pride in his eyes. Fanty nodded at his face as he sat down, crossing his legs like he really was sitting in a throne.

"What did you talk about?" Xion asked, genuinely curious.

"Poor man has no job, so I convinced him to find one. Simple as that." Loki shrugged, but Fanty punched his arm.

"That's not it, come on! The whole story, you buffoon."

"Alright, geez!" Loki whined, "I told him that moping wouldn't help, and that he was a lot stronger than he took for granted. I said that his boss was unintelligent to get rid of him, and that he would be better off doing something more productive and hard working. The kid merely looked at me, and somehow he knew I was the 'crazed lunatic from New York'" he put this direct quote in between his bouncing fingers, "and that I was not as 'bad as he thought.'"

"Hm. Strange that he would react like that and not scream his head off and run away." Fanty pondered, and then snickered when Loki glared at her with a smirk.

"Um, excuse me?" came a timid voice from behind.

The three looked to see a tall girl with bright blue hair stand just a few inches from them, her eyes nervously peeking at Loki. She held a bobble head in her hand that resembled a lot like Loki himself, but more comical and with big black eyes.

"Are you Tom Hiddleston?"

"Who?" Loki asked, but Fanty slapped her hand over his mouth and beamed at the girl.

"Yes, he is! But don't tell anyone, because he's in character. We're just taking a break after shooting a scene for a movie." Fanty quickly said, kindly as to not scare the girl.

The girl with green eyes and blue hair beamed, "Oh, okay! So should I refer to you as Loki so you can stay in character?"

"N-!" Loki started, but Xion kicked him right in the crotch under the table, making him clamp his mouth shut at the horrid pain. His groan of pain was stuck echoing in his throat, and he finally wheezed out, "Y-yes."

"Cool," the girl looked back at Xion and Fanty, "And who are you guys? You aren't Jane and Darcy, right?"

"Oh uh…" Xion looked to Fanty quickly before getting an idea, "We're not! I'm Xion, Tom's actor's aid. This is Fanty, she's his secretary for the film."

"Ah! Well, it's wonderful to meet you all." the girl blushed shyly, and then held out the bobble head, "Um...Loki? Will you sign this? Please?"

Loki blinked at the trinket in the girl's nervous hand, and then glanced up at Fanty. Her wide eyes and frantic nod meant, 'SAY YES YOU DIMWIT.'

He finally smiled up at her and said sweetly, "Of course, darling!"

Fanty didn't mean to, but she snorted on her drink and accidentally banged her knee against the table at the love name Loki gave the girl. Xion held back giggles at Fanty's predicament, and Fanty coughed on her drink, thumping her chest. The accuracy Loki had in the actor's voice was freaky! Really, it was beyond strange. But Loki and the friendly girl didn't notice her struggle for survival, for she was so nervous and hyped up that-who she thought was Tom himself-was signing her bobble head.

"There you are, dear. Have a good day. Bless you!" Loki said, beaming up at her.

"Thanks, To-I mean Loki!" the girl happily blurted, and looked down at his signature. She squealed and ran off, "He even signed it in Asgardian!"

That sent Fanty burst out laughing once the girl left, and Loki gave her a questioning look. Xion grinned and pressed for an answer excitedly, wondering what was so darn funny.

"You idiot! You signed your name in ancient runes?!" Fanty chortled, holding onto her stomach as she bent over from laughing.

Loki frowned, his act of the fellow Brit completely gone. "It is not ancient, the written language still thrives in Asgard along with Norwegian and English."

Fanty gasped, her laughter causing her sides to split. The last time she laughed like this was when Pitch was around and…

Pitch…

Loki was starting to get worried. Fanty's laughter died immediately, and Xion worriedly looked at her when her face became slightly gloomy. "What...what's wrong?" Xion finally asked, resting a comforting hand on Fanty's.

"Nothing...just thinking again." Fanty said, trying her best smile once more. "Come on, let's go home. I bet Loki will enjoy watching Snow White and the Huntsman or something!"

"Maybe Pan's Labyrinth?" Xion suggested, and Fanty nodded excitedly.

As they strolled back down the street towards the apartment, Fanty in the lead and Xion and Loki trailing behind, Loki asked a question quietly.

"What made her so sullen? Does she not fare well?" he asked, trying to hide the slight concern he had in his mind. He wasn't fond of making quick friends, and now that he's noticing it, Xion, Fanty and the others are becoming fast friends.

Which he wasn't used to at all. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he even liked the idea of befriending mortals. As a child he was taught that gods do not normally speak to the mortals unless to punish them, bless them, or hear their cry of help. Making friends with them was like breathing underwater. You're not supposed to do it because it's bad for you, at least that's how Loki thought at first.

But then again, he had to give the six girls credit. They were doing a fine job at getting rid of his biases of the Midgardian people, yet he still believed strongly that they needed an adequate ruler: himself. But so far he learned that they're not all the same, and guilt and regret was starting to slowly seep into him, making him realize his mistakes and have his mind think, 'I'll never do that again. Ever.'

"Oh, Fanty's just missing a friend, that's all." Xion sighed, rubbing her hands together to create warm friction against the cold wind.

"Who?" Loki pressed, not wanting to drop the conversation.

"Well, before you came Fanty was really close with someone named Pitch Black. We all were, but they were like best friends." Xion whispered so Fanty wouldn't hear his name.

"Ah. The Boogeyman. Hard to believe he would find a friend." Loki said lowly, and Xion nudged him in the ribs.

"Seriously, Loki. We haven't seen him in months and Fanty's worried that he no longer cares about us. But right now our focus is on you, Pitch can wait." she smiled up at him, showing what she said she truly believed in.

Loki blinked and looked back at Fanty, who was smiling broadly as they reached the door to the apartment. "Xion has a point! Maybe to make you feel special we could have a little movie night."

"Did someone say movie night?!" a girl with purple hair popped out from behind the hallway hydrangea, looking bright and cheery as usual.

Loki accidentally let a girlish scream leave his lips as he jumped, and Mystic laughed so hard she nearly toppled onto Xion, who was trying her very hardest to hold back troublesome giggles. Loki frowned, not liking the fact that Mystic scared the living daylights out of him. He folded his arms, waiting for them to stop, and finally they sighed their last laugh.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." Mystic waved off her prank, grinning at her success.

"What is with people and colored hair?" Loki muttered, throwing up his hands.

Fanty shrugged, "It's expresses our personality and it's awesome. Any other questions?"

Xion and Mystic proudly folded their arms, daring Loki to complain some more. He merely shook his head, a smirk threatening his lips. These girls were highly amusing...almost to the point he would actually start laughing.

"Not one bit."

#crossover fanfic #crossover fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfics

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