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marxo-fm · 2 months

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Take me to Church

✯ John Price x f!reader | Playlist

Summary: A reader who’s so religious that she doesn’t even think of anything close to inappropriate, until she meets her dad’s best friend, Mr. John Price.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, mature themes and language, age gap (reader is 25 and Price is in his early 40’s), religious trauma from Catholic variety, dad’s best friend, loss of virginity, pet names, slight aftercare in the end, fear of getting caught from reader, smut, assurance, fingering, reader isn’t all that clueless but super inexperienced, protected PIV, oral (fem! receiving), reader has some troubles with masturbation (failure to finish), Price teaches the reader how to feel good, praising, no descriptions of readers body, race, skin color, ethnicity, hair type/length and body type.

A/N: Currently don’t know wtf I’m doing with my life and how this absurdity came to mind, but aye, I’m all here for it. This was so…..!? Yeah. Also big shout out to Hozier, my icon. Side note: I truly apologize If this fic is rough, I will edit it soon but it’s mostly because I haven’t written in a hot minute, due to school and shit, but I’m back now—and I’m proud of this!

—

The breeze kisses your skin as you soak the sun's warmth on a Friday afternoon. The grass is green, and the clouds are out, summer has just begun. You feel yourself start to come back, you were struggling but now that’s over—for a bit. You look over as you watch your dad chopping wood. Usually, he has his friends helping out, but you guessed they had things to do, which explains why they weren’t here.

You memorized their names.

There’s Gaz, Simon, a man who goes by the name of ‘Soap’—which you find funny and you’re not sure if that’s his real name or if it’s just a nickname—and then…John.

Mr. Price. Or so you call him. Sir or Mr works just fine. But you never explored your unknown and strange feelings for him. How you always felt so shy around his dominating presence, or how his voice sounds like honey and sins. You prayed at night and asked for forgiveness when thinking of such thoughts you’ve never thought of when you see John.

Until one day in high school—in health class—they taught about intercourse and other things that left you baffled and quite scared. Anxious. Curious.

You’d get scolded by your Catholic parents when you asked such things, they say it’s too early to get into these topics, or that you should wait until marriage. Your parents are good, but you always follow their rules. You never once disobeyed, only minor times but you always asked for forgiveness.

You’ve always been a good girl, but Mr. Price always makes the fire in your belly grow. And that fire burns through your veins in an excruciating need for something so sinful. Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder, but you never fight it off, and that was bad.

“Hey honey, ought to help me out here? The jerks I call my friends are out busy somewhere, c’mon, I’ll teach ya.” Your father motioned his hands as he walked to his area where he chops his wood, you’ve never done this before, but you’re excited. He gives you his axe, and you almost give out due to how heavy it is. “Can’t carry it like that sweet pie, hold it strong and firm.” He instructs.

You do as he says, squinting your eyes to look at his face of approval, “I think I got it.”

He nods and you bring the axe up to your shoulder, and you bring it down with every ounce of strength.

You chopped it.

“Attagirl, that’s one hell of a way to chop down wood.” A man with a deeper voice and a southern drawl said from right behind you, you turn around and the blood rushes to your head.

It’s John.

“Oh…Mr. Price,” you stammer, and you feel a rush of embarrassment plastering your cheeks.

“Y’know ya can call me John, right? Good job raisin’ her pal, she got manners.” He chews on his toothpick as he takes the axe from your hands, and the contact leaves you feeling vulnerable and so flustered. His rough hands that he used to work, chop wood, and fix things felt oddly familiar on your soft skin.

“We taught her well, ain’t that right darlin’?” John looks over his shoulder, his flannel covering his bulging biceps and that itself makes you feel thirsty for cold water.

“Yes, Dad,” you replied softly, “Well, I’m just going to head on over back home to help Mom out. Want anything to drink John?”

John looked at you momentarily, the way his name slipped out of your sweet mouth left him speechless. His eyes gaze over your white dress that sits just above your knees, it feels like he is undressing you, but he’s just wondering how and when the hell you looked like this. Of course, you were always beautiful, but there was something special there.

A spark.

“No ma’am.” He waved his hand and went back to work. You watched as his forearms grew bigger when he swung that axe down.

Forgive me for my sins.

You mumbled before you opened the door to your home and walked in.

—

“My baby’s such a bad girl, aren’t ya? Takin’ me so well.” John praises as he thrusts into you in sinister motions like he’s been deprived of something so good for such a long time, that it almost drove him over the wall.

How you felt so good, so welcoming, as his thrusts became deeper and faster. Touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed—nor could feel. It was an out-of-body experience like your soul had ascended, and you didn’t know whether it was real.

Until your alarm woke you up. It wasn’t real, but gosh did it feel real. You’re sweating, and your heart is running a marathon, as you regain your breath, you feel like you committed a crime. A crime so punishable that it could result in a death sentence.

You grab your rosary and you rock back and forth, praying and asking for forgiveness for ever dreaming about him. Your parents always told you that you wouldn’t have a good spot in the afterlife—a place called hell—if you thought of or committed any acts of sin. Especially anything and everything related to dirty inappropriate thoughts or worse, sex. Commit any of these before marriage, and you have a spot ready for you down below.

You feared for your life, even though it was impossible for anyone you love to know. They won’t ever know you have thoughts about John, or how you feel warmth between your legs when you picture him touching you in places you can’t please. Or how you picture him shirtless chopping wood, grabbing your waist from behind as he helps you hold the axe properly and swing it down. It was oh so shameful of you. Dirty, bad, sinful.

But you feel as if enough was enough, you’ve been good for far too long, that you deserve to feel good about yourself for once.

It was the perfect time, six thirty in the morning and both your parents were sleeping away, not knowing their good and obedient daughter was yearning to touch herself.

You lock your doors for safety as you scurried back to bed, you lay down on your back as you skim your fingers down your chest.

Deep breathes in and deep breathes out. You don’t know how to do this, but you’ll give in anyway. You sigh as you pull your shorts down, with your underwear as well. You drew circles around your belly before trailing down to your heat. Soft gasps escaped your mouth at your sensitive touch. Sensitive and swollen from the dream you just had.

You close your eyes, rubbing circular motions on your most sensitive area as you picture John doing this for you instead. Rough and hard-working hands aiding you. A coil in your stomach tightens, urging you to untie right then and there, but you can’t get the motions to stay the same.

You winced as you pushed your finger deeper, your back arching in response. You don’t feel anything, no pleasure, only pain and emptiness.

You want to scream in the agonizing torture of being so close yet so far away. You pull your shorts back up as you go inside the restroom to wash your hands.

You committed acts of sin and weren't pleased, and now you feel nothing but guilt and insecurity of not knowing how to do something right.

—

The next day, the same place you were before. Outside on your dad's truck watching his friends help out with work. John wore a tight brown tee that accentuated his muscles, he's a retired man, but you could see every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears in that body of his.

You blush, thinking about it. About what could be hiding under his shirt.

He catches you eyeing him but you quickly divert your eyes back to your book. John smirked, telling your dad he'll be back in a second and wants to talk with you.

"Ya watchin' me, sweetheart?" He smiled, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. You watched as he did so, fearing that he'd ask you to take a puff, though you never would. "I...I was just trying to learn how you chop your wood, sir."

A deep chuckle escapes his mouth, "Y'know I can teach you, doll," the new nickname had you unable to face him, but he loved seeing you flustered. He took a puff and you nodded, "Come on over to my place, your dad won't mind. I'm not at home much, anyway. S'good to learn y'know," he went on as he walked closer to you, his southern accent becomes deeper as he goes, "You'll have the privacy that you need, to read your books and pray." He knew how religious you are, heck, he's a good friend to your parents.

"I don't know if my father will let me go, with a man nonetheless." John looks back and then back to you, "It's only me, angel."

You decide to ask your father, just in case. You don't want to go behind his back, even if John is family. You walk on over, building the courage to ask your father if it's okay to go over to a man's house, a man you yearn for.

"Dad, is it okay If John takes me to his house? He's gonna teach me how to chop wood." Your dad looks at you momentarily, before speaking, "Of course honey, just because I want you to help an old man out here and there. 'Aka' me." You tried to keep your cool, to not look so eager about going over a man's house.

John smiled, the thought of having you all to himself at his place gets him straining against his jeans. He loves it when you eye him as if he doesn't know or sense when you drool over him.

"Here's your room, sweet thing, if ya ever need anything I'm just a shout away." He sets his tools down and walks to the kitchen, his jeans shaping his toned legs and shirt sizes too small. Butterflies invade your stomach, merely at the thought that you'd be sleeping under the same roof as this man, and willing to teach you something you're so interested in.

"Can't believe your dress is that short, doll. Your mother let you out like that?" He eyed your white dress that sits just above your knees and shows more skin than the dresses you usually wear. "You know, Mr. Price, I'm an adult now."

"Course you are," he takes a sip of his beer, "but I ain't take you as the one to dress like this. Can't say I don't like it."

You smile, flustered at the way he just complimented you. You can't deny that you like it, you love it. It sent a rush of arousal through your entire body, and he noticed the way you crossed your legs.

"Damnit,"

"What is it?" You asked curiously, not knowing that John saw the way you squeezed your thighs together. He wants to ease the need and desire that coursed through you, but he doesn't want to screw it all up.

"Nothin', now come on outside."

"Now, you're going to hold it just like this," he instructs, pushing his hard body against your back as he holds your arms. You could feel the hardness of his strain on your back and you scream internally, unable to form coherent thoughts.

You made this so hard for him, so difficult to the point where John himself forgot what he wanted to teach you.

"Easy," his calloused hands left your arms and snaked their way along your waist. Your stomach flipped at the action. Goosebumps flare over your entire skin, his manly scent entering your nose and taking over your mind. You swallowed, and continued.

"Now raise your axe, and swing it down."

You did just so, and you successfully chopped the wood.

"That's it, angel baby, look at ya. Such a good learner."

"I am, aren't I?" You slightly bit your lip, John cursed himself and cupped your face. "Mm, damn right you are." John wondered deeply if you were such a good learner in other parts as well. Price cupping your face was a first, but his calloused hands that signal just how much of a hard worker made the intense throb between your legs grow.

You wake up with your blanket suffocating as you struggle to fall asleep, again. You tossed and turned, repeating everything and every touch he gave you. You try to stop the need and the burn in your belly, you really do, but it's hard when you don't know how to fulfill your need. It became so bad to the point where you stood up and walked to the kitchen for water.

He wasn't in his room, he was out for the morning. A busy man and you're so silly for thinking he'd be home, even when he informed you he wouldn't be home every passing hour.

But oh how much you needed him. In ways, you couldn't forgive yourself for it.

You sit down, as quiet as a mouse, waiting patiently for him to come back just so you can confess your dirty sins. Maybe he'll forgive you for them, or maybe he won't show you mercy.

You try to occupy yourself, laying down on the couch and turning on the TV, still in your nightgown. You pull the blanket over, ready to watch a cooking video to learn a few things.

But it hits you that you're actually able to do something about the heat in between your legs, now that nobody is here. The house was quiet except for the TV playing.

Your hand trails under the blanket, lifting your nightgown as you reach for your soaked underwear. Shameful how you're soaked even when he's not around, John really leaves his mark on you. You let out a sigh as you reached your wet and sensitive clit.

It's not easy when you struggle to please yourself, it's so disappointing, honestly. Today was no different.

There is this creeping guilt, but it always hits you the most just when you creep up the tip of the mountain, only for you to fall off when you realize what you're doing.

You can't stop thinking of him, shoulders aching and tears urging to escape when you're so close to reaching the end, only for it to be unsuccessful.

So, you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Spreading your legs further as your fingers plunged into your aching hole, you gasped. Picturing yet again, how he pleases his women. Of course, he knew how, he is well experienced and capable of pleasing a woman, to the point where she forgets her own name.

You're committing acts of sins in his own home, unforgivable and dirty. Because you were raised with the idea of being perfect, but no one is perfect. From the moment you're born and the moment you die--but the moment you die is the moment John Price fulfills your dirty little dreams.

He whispers in your ear telling you how to do this and how to do that.

'Just like that.'

'Those fingers are too light, darlin', lemme do all the work."

"Attagirl, in and out."

And you almost reached the top of the mountain, whispering finally as sweat buds trail down your forehead.

Finally, finally, finally.

Until you fell down the mountain you tried so hard climbing, when John swings open the door to the sight of his best friend's daughter getting off on his couch. You hurriedly pull your panties back up.

At that moment, you wanted to scream.

To run away.

To die.

He's going to tell your dad, and your entire body freezes. You can't plead for forgiveness when you're so far gone. No mercy will be shown when he kicks you out and tells your parents how bad their daughter truly is.

You sit straight as your body shakes in fear, you're unable to cry when you know your fate.

A sinful girl.

"John," you choke, "I-I am so so sorry, I didn't mean to. I really wasn't-"

"How long have you been at this?" Your heart drops all the way down as the blood from your face drains. "O..only," you struggle to speak as his deep brown eyes gaze at you, "It was only this one time."

You lied.

Another sin.

He stands in silence, shutting the door behind him as he takes big steps towards you. He hovers over you, looking down to see a dirty girl in front of him. As if you played this innocent and sweet girl, though you were, except in John's eyes you weren't. At least that's what you thought.

He takes your chin and pushes your head up to face him, you weren't able to look in his eyes, it was all too much.

"Look at me," he grumbled, you did just what he said. Not once resisting, although it was difficult.

"I ain't mad at ya, it's natural, honey."

Your eyes widened and your shoulders relaxed from the tension and fear.

"You're not going to tell on me?" You asked, Price chuckles.

"Course I'm not, I ain't no snitch, I'm a grown man." He bends on his knees, his thumbs rubbing circular motions on your exposed skin.

"Did it feel good? Sorry to have ruined it for ya' angel." It sure did feel good knowing you almost reached the top, it really did, but it felt better having John assuring you that it was all okay. "You don't have to be sorry--I was just..."

"Go on."

"Continue what I interrupted, don't let my presence stop ya," he signaled his pointer finger toward the door to his room, "it ain't comfortable here. No space to spread those sweet legs, is there?"

You shake your head, "Go on, unless you want me in there. I know deep down you do, doll, you can feel so much better." He's right, the moment you've been dreaming of, it finally comes true. How could you say no to John being in the same room making you feel good?

You almost can't believe it.

He suddenly picks you up from the couch, initiating a soft gasp from you when he opens the door and throws you on his mattress.

You balance yourself with your two hands when he undresses himself in front of you. Starting off with his shirt. You gasp once again, at the sight of his sculpted body before you. His chest was full of hair and his toned dad bod was the definition of perfect.

He gets on the bed and slowly crawls towards you, his head now in between your thighs. "I interrupted your time of need, sweet girl, let me make it up to you." He smiles before hooking his finger on the hem of your underwear, pulling them down all the way to your ankles. On display right before him, so shy you hid away, unable to look at the lewd sight in front of you. "That ain't gonna work for me, eyes over here." His fingers dug into your thighs, you did just as he said, looking at his eyes that continue to look at your pretty pussy.

"S'fuckin' wet."

It's a dream come true for John as well, to see you all wide open and soaking wet for him.

He places peppered kisses along your thighs, and you whimper as he stops. John makes his way up to your lips, biting your bottom lip before kissing you deeply and hungrily. Exactly like the dreams.

His stache brushing against your top lip only made it feel real, his tongue deep inside your mouth as your hands held the back of his head, pushing his mouth impossibly deeper. He's eating your face as if it were his last meal on death row. Like a predator catching his prey.

He pulls away from the intense kiss, the saliva leaving both of you.

Good God did he know how to kiss, you let him do all the work when you could barely kiss him back just as good.

His chest heaved, and he continued with his kisses on your neck and down your collarbone, pushing a soft moan out of you that drove John over the wall. "Make more noises, it's only the two of us, jus' let me hear ya." He cooed, his hands lifting your nightgown over your hips and then over your head. His eyes trailed over your breasts hidden in your bra. "Ah fuck," you sit up, allowing John to unclip your bra, the sight of your chest out on display for him made his mouth water. He grips your left breast with one hand while he sucks and kisses the other.

"Oh, John...keep doing that, please."

He kneads your breast, almost putting you to sleep with how good it feels, "mmmhm," you sighed, "you been wantin' this, and I'm sorry for waiting this long." He apologizes as he places kisses down your belly and finally makes his way back to being in between your thighs.

"No need...to be sorry," you breathe, tilting your head back when he swipes his tongue between your wet folds. The new feeling alone made your legs tremble, enticing a loud gasp from you. You start to rock your hips against his mouth as his deep groans vibrate through your entire nervous system. "Taste like fuckin' Heaven, oh sweet baby, I think you are heaven itself." Praise that had you dropping your jaw as he inserted his hot tongue in your hole.

You swore you saw Heaven.

Brows furrowed and back arched as he eats you like a hungry man, your hands gripping the sheets underneath you, and your legs spread further open inviting him in for more.

John inserts one finger in as his tongue continues to suck on your most sensitive area, and you let out the loudest moan you didn't think you were capable of ever making.

You died in this moment. And John swore he died in that moment, also.

"John," you pant, focusing on what could be your first-ever orgasm.

"I know, you're close baby, s'fuckin' tight, come for me." His words of encouragement suddenly break the coil inside your burning belly, the liquid seeping out of you as he continues to lick away every last bit from you.

He takes his finger and licks you away, which leaves you half-lidded.

"See? How hard was that? Like rippin' a damn bandaid off, does your wound feel better?" He teased, "It does," you say softly, still reminiscing what happened a few seconds ago. What you just felt, how it felt like fireworks exploding inside your veins.

"Such a perfect pussy, waiting to be full of me." He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, you've never had sex, but you definitely never needed something more than now. You need him, to get to know him, even when you already do.

"Does it hurt like they say?" You asked nervously, watching as his jeans disappeared, leaving him only in his boxers. His thick thighs didn't do much justice in the dim light.

"When I do it, then it shouldn't be as bad, doll. Jus' a little pain, but if ya feel like it's too much, you jus' tell me. Hm?"

It makes you feel special with how sweet he treats you, he treats you with such care that it truly makes you dizzy.

He takes off his boxers and you almost lose all consciousness, his cock leaking with pre-cum and hard, you thought it was quite inhumane how big he is.

Sure you've explored your curiosity, but John, he differed from all of them.

"Poor thing needs some love and I'm going to show your pussy what the definition of love is." You grew heavy with desire, "ya need me to use a condom, sweetheart?" he asked, you nodded, simply because you weren't on the pill.

He opens his drawer and pulls out a condom, ripping it off with his teeth and spitting a piece of the wrapper out.

That was a sight for sore eyes.

He slips it on his thick cock, the condom intensifying every vien, it left your mouth dry like a Sahara desert.

How was that going to fit? Was all you were thinking about, but you were so sure he was going to make it feel okay.

He sets his heavy cock on your soaking entrance, teasing you while he moves his dick up and down your folds, you whine with need and John chuckles.

Was this the sinful thing that would literally damn you for eternity? How could something so dirty feel so good?

He brings a hand of his to pin your arms down, while the other holds your leg close to him. Your brows furrow as he slowly enters himself into you. John grows concerned when he sees your lips pursed and your eyes shut tightly, a tear escaping.

He stops, and you stop holding your breath.

"It hurts don't it? Want me to stop?"

"Please, no," you gasp, "I...I want you to keep going."

He readjusts your hips, before proceeding to continue, "You sure, honey?" You nod and whisper a hundred times yes before he thrusts deep inside of you.

"So fuckin' good for me, fuck!" he shouts, he loved the way your cunt fluttered and wrapped tightly around his cock.

The silence in the room was filled with his groans and loud moans from you, so lewd and so dirty. But you're too far deep to leave now, you're ready to die, happily.

"My," he thrusts, then pulling away and thrusting back in deeper, "gorgeous," you gasp when he continues his rhythm of thrusting and being so close to pulling out before he thrusts impossibly deeper again, "Girl." He breathed.

He brings his fingers to circle your sensitive clit, and you feel it happening again. It's more intense and heavier.

Your walls wrapped tightly on his cock, initiating that you're indeed closer than you have ever been before. "Mhmm," he moaned, and it was such a sweet sound you so badly wanted to hear again. He grabs hold of your legs, bringing them closer to your head, thrusting at a deeper angle that you can feel in your throat.

"That's it, baby, that's my fuckin' girl right here. All mine, gimme one more." He stopped as you cried out his name over and over until it became engraved in John's brain. He silences your cries with his lips as your legs shake around him.

"You did so well for me, your pussy jus' needed some medicine to be cured, got you coming all over my cock." He begins to move again, to finish himself this time. Your pain turns into pleasure and familiarity when he pushes himself in and out.

"John, that feels so..." He groans loudly at the way you watch his cock slide in and out, it was obscene but also surreal, "look at you, fuck, gonna make me cum just lookin' at me like that."

Which you felt so good about, it's all you wanted.

He pants as he reached a certain point, chest heaving as you can feel his cock twitching inside of you.

John pulls out, and there's sadness in your heart at the emptiness. Your heart thuds loudly that your first time to be with a man you dreamed about, it feels euphoric. You felt ecstatic.

He wipes away your dry tears and your hair away from your face, that drowned in sweat and tears.

John admired you the second he laid his eyes on you till now, he never knew the definition of perfect until this moment.

"Can you teach me how to feel good?" You asked as your hand roamed his broad shoulders and his back. And fuck, did John love that.

"Course' baby, on top of the choppin' the damn wood lessons," you both laugh, "I got all the time in the world, for you."

Your heart ached, he whispered sweet nothings before he carried you into the bathroom to clean up the mess.

Then you nestled under his arms and his body heat, his chest, and arms hugging you as the two of you slept the day away.

It was worth every waking second, and now you can sleep peacefully.

A/N: Y'all, wtf. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Need him.

This lowkey needs to be edited some more now that I’m reading it, but I’ll definitely do that later…

527 notes · View notes

lululandd · 9 days

Text

wrong;

pairing: könig x f!reader

wordcount: 2.5k+

warnings: fluff?

note: ngl i had fun making this and i hope yall get a laugh from this or something (also on AO3)

summary:

of all the kortac members you’ve worked and hung out with, you try to avoid könig the most. the austrian man comes off as normal and even endearing at first, masking his anxiety with comedy, always being thoughtful of people's needs and personal space. but the more you hung out with him the more you realise he might actually have a woman held hostage in his house. he likes to talk about her, mostly innocuous comments about her new hobbies, but from time to time könig lets out insane comments in such a casual tone that rendered you and other kortac operators speechless.

bunny doesn't like men so when my kitchen was renovated i had to put her in the basement..

—sometimes she misbehaves so much i want to hit her but i can't so i had to leash her.

no one dares to talk about his bunny, you notice everyone skirting around the subject and never asking him directly about her even though he’s actively bringing her up in conversations. you don’t mind being around him during assignments, since he’s usually too busy saving people’s lives and covering his teammates backs to think about his ‘bunny’. but outside of combat? at the base? at karaoke or bars? you avoid him as much as possible.

until you slipped up, of course.

you were tired; unwashed, thinking only of the food in front of you and the long luxurious cold shower you’re going to have right after.

hearing the word ‘sick’ somewhere in your vincinity you immediately went into worry mode and asked follow up questions before your brain could determine who was talking.

horangi lets out a cough next to you, and only then you realise who said the word ‘sick’ and about whom.

the usually boisterous man looked so downtrodden, barely eating his dinner, moving his food around his metal tray.

“it’s bunny..” he whined, his hood blowing forwards for a moment before settling back in place.

“i’m sorry to hear that.” you offered, curtly. you thought of the least offensive thing you could muster that wouldn’t evoke any other bunny related tidbits. “how long until your assignment’s over?”

“two months.”

“i’m sure she’ll be fine.” you assured him, “hope she feels better soon, könig.”

he rested his chin on his open palm, “she can’t take care of herself, i had a friend stay at my house to take care of her.”

you glance at horangi, hoping he’d steer the conversation away. he halfheartedly shrugged as he dug into his food, unwilling to help. you dug your own grave, the shrug seems to imply.

“your friend is probably doing their best, you just have to trust them.”

horangi raised his brows and smirked at you. you poked him with one of the corners of your metal tray playfully when you two were done eating. laughing as he bumps your hip with his, saying something in korean before answering, “you have to learn to evade the bunny topic yourself. you did good.”

perhaps this is the nicest, or the only thing anyone has ever dared to say about his captive, because he turned up at your shared bunk that night. stiletto immediately fiddled with her butterfly knife when she saw who was at the door.

“may i talk to you?” his gaze jumped from your eyes to something behind you before looking at you again quickly and looking away again.

stiletto snarked at him from her bed, “you can talk over there with the door open.”

thankful for her caution, you see könig doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

“i’m worried about bunny.” he lowered his voice, bending a little so his head was closer to yours.

“oi! three feet apart!” you hear her yell alongside the soft clitter-clatter of her butterfly knife.

könig straightened up immediately, it’s so funny seeing him obey stiletto without question even though he’s her senior in age and rank.

“your friend is with bunny, no?” you tried reassuring him.

“ja.” he squares up to his full height, making you step back to even be able to look at his face. “she is taking care of bunny but she is no doctor.”

“neither am i.” you shrugged, turning to look at stiletto for reassurance.

to your relief she grumbled at the colonel, “get to the point, könig.”

the austrian threw a look at your bunkmate before looking back down at you.“i want you to go see her.”

your heart gave a little jolt, and you’re sure your whole body did too.

what.

blinking slowly, you turn your head to give stiletto a wide-eyed stare before looking back at him. “you want me to go see… your girl?”

his expression shifted, you could see the twinkle in his eyes hearing you’re not outright rejecting his proposal. “ja, ja, i want you to see bunny. you seem like a nice person. i want you to check up on bunny, and maybe stay with her until i come back.”

“stay?” you repeated. “at your house? where bunny is?”

nodding excitedly, he stepped forwards, “ja, exactly. i’ll pay your tickets.”

you want to look back and make faces at your roommate but out of respect you just look as confused as you could and tell him you would give him an answer tomorrow.

as soon as the door closed and könig’s footsteps can no longer be heard, stiletto hissed from her bed, “ma che cazzo, he is crazy.”

plopping down next to her, “i feel sorry, though.”

she slapped your upper arm, “his crazy is catching. what the fuck?”

“i mean, if he wants me to visit then how bad could the situation be, right?” you try to make sense of his actions. “if bad comes to worse i can always call the police.”

stiletto groaned, “the police could be in on it, idiota.”

she’s right.

but,

he’s your co-worker. if you go missing during your planned trip to austria on könig’s dime, there would definitely be an investigation, right? there’s paper trail and receipts and everything.

you voice your thoughts to your roommate and she sighs in defeat.

“your funeral, bunny number two.”

—

you arrived at könig’s little countryside (remote) house, with its dilapidated (creepy) looking roof and peeling windowsill. a gigantic rabbit greeted you in his lush front garden, happily chewing on a celery stalk and hopping away from the iron gate as you approached.

hop? that thing looks like it could gallop. there must be something in the water here that makes everything grow so large. how far is chernobyl from this place, again?

staring at his front door an embarrassingly long time, you took a quick and deep breath before knocking. his front door felt so foreboding you instinctively step back right after.

the woman greeting you with a smile looks a little bit older than you, with a charming smile that would definitely make you feel safe if you’ve never heard of the way könig talks about his girlfriend.

“hi, im here to see……” your eyes dart around your peripherals to make sure there’s no one that could ambush you, “..bunny?”

she gestured at the rabbit in the patch of sunlight behind you.

the world as you know it crumbled before your eyes. the sun shone brighter, the dilapidated windows look fine, and did you call his cabin creepy earlier? you meant cosy.

you blinked slowly. “that’s.. bunny?” you reiterated, turning halfway back at the rabbit while pointing at it.

“ja, bunny is rabbit in english? yes?” she sounded a little impatient, “are you a vet? she is all better now.” its clear from her tone and the hard stare she gave you that she’s offended of könig’s distrust in her ability to take care of his pet rabbit.

putting your hand up, “no, i’m his friend.” you stared back at the rabbit again for a little longer, making sure its actually a rabbit and not a woman in a realistic rabbit suit. you’ve seen the $15000 collie suit that went viral a few years back, “so…. könig’s girlfriend doesn't live here?”

crossing her arms, it was her turn to blink slowly. “girlfriend? i’ve only seen him bring men home.”

as much as you wanted to laugh out loud at the second big misunderstanding this poor man has in his life, it makes complete sense why she would think that way. “i see.” was all you could muster.

“come in, then.” she offered.

taking note of where the basement is as she points at things while giving you a tour, you opened the door to be immediately greeted by a well lit space, with a little rabbit enclosure at the back, a waist high fence separating the space from the rest of the basement. it had one of those hamster wheels although a much larger size, a pet bed, and neat stack of hay just outside the fence gate. you took careful steps further down in the basement, and you do see a little clasp and a leash hanging off the wall by the pet bed.

the first thing you after your brain process the whole information is run back outside and update the group chat.

stiletto had to personally call you fifteen minutes later because you weren’t active in the group chat.

könig came home to bunny sitting on what looked like a little trampoline with an umbrella on top of it, munching on some hay with pieces of flowers and fruits strewn about. seeing him, bunny hopped off her little perch. his little fluff of happiness is coming with her ears all perked up to flop on her side by his feet. here are little bows on both her ears and as he crouched down könig could feel all his stress melt away from the sight. picking bunny up, he walked in to find your bags packed and ready by the front door, your socks neatly placed inside each of your shoes.

bunny wiggled as könig roamed his house to look for you, presumably wanting to go back to her feast of hay and flowers and fruits that you set up for her. but when he opened the front door and set her down, she instead hopped further into the home, towards the basement door.

“there’s no man around for you to fear, häschen.” he coos, before looking at the direction bunny is heading.

first thing he saw was you had gathered more hay; könig notes its the expensive one he only gets when he receives his yearly bonus, the old pet bed looks cleaned, and there’s a new even bigger one by the wheel. he spots you in the corner fastening the leash hook.

“you want beer?” he offered in lieu of a greeting. you could hear the smile in his voice.

bunny punched the gate, signalling that she wants to go in the enclosure to possibly use the wheel or be with you. he unlatched the gate and watched with fascination as she hopped over to you, standing on her hind legs to see what you’re doing.

“oh hey könig, i’m just about done.” you pointed at the little sand pit next to the stairs, “careful of the sand pit.”

you heard him shuffle around behind you. the man is lazy and drags his feet when he’s not in combat. “you built this for bunny?” he sounded surprised, the sound of sand being played with grabbed your attention so you opted to stop fiddling with the hook and come see what he’s doing.

bunny followed you as you walked towards him, “yeah, we pitched in for a lot of the stuff. there’s a card upstairs.”

the tall man was grabbing some sand visibly stiffened at your reply. könig turned his head slowly towards you, “we?” the casualness dropped off his posture at that moment. “card?”

hearing the scepticism in his voice, you nodded and pointed at the door to usher him upstairs.

he stayed, looks down at the sand as if it was the most interesting thing in the world for him. bunny filled the long pause with her little clucks and chatters as you absentmindedly pet her. “i thought you guys didn’t like bunny..” he said weakly, returning to playing with the sand, slower this time.

oh no.

looking at it from his perspective, you saw how shitty you all must’ve looked. he had mentioned how sick his pet was and no one asked a single question nor seemed to care.

at this point bunny has sensed his distress and made her way towards him to cuddle. she’s really good at that, sensing peoples moods and coming over to offer comfort.

you think you will just rip the bandage off, or maybe at this point it’s more like giving him a surprise brazilian wax. “könig we thought bunny was your girlfriend. and you chain her up in the basement and everything.”

“WAS? WAS MEINST DU???” he turned your head to you so fast you could see little beads of sweat coming off his hair.

you think he’s yelling WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? so you continued on, swallowing thickly. “none of us were ever sure if you were talking about an animal or a person and we just…. yeah…” the look of horror in könig’s eyes was reflected in his overall disposition which prompted bunny to snuggle into his chest deeper. “i’m sorry könig…”

as you can see his world unravelling before him, you decided this would be the perfect time to leave him and his little rabbit alone.

a text in the big group chat popped up later that night.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

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laurenairay · 24 days

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I got a secret, I’m telling everyone - Q. Hughes

Summary: Quinn doesn’t think he’s good enough for Gianna. Gianna doesn’t think Quinn would ever like her as more than a friend. Jack has had enough of the pining.

This is my entry for Rox’s birthday bingo! I couldn’t make it a true bingo @offside-the-lines (sorry!) but I included only one bed, dancing, mutual pining, and truth or dare in this Quinn fic! I hope you like it!

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: some bad language, angst, self-doubt, idiots to lovers

Title from Truth or Dare, by Emily Osment

“Hey Quinn, truth or dare.”

“Jack, we’re not 8 years old,” Quinn snorted.

“I mean, if you’re too chicken…”

Quinn rolled his eyes as Jack, Trevor, and Cole all started making chicken squawks, Turcs and Luke just giggling.

“I’m not chicken!”

“So…truth or dare?” Jack grinned.

“Fine, dare.”

“I dare you to finally tell Gianna how you feel about her. By the end of next summer.”

As the group burst into laughter, Quinn just groaned. “You can fuck right off.”

“Are you going to forfeit?”

Quinn wished more than anything else that he hadn’t let Jack bait him at the end of last summer. There was just something about his brother and his friends that got under his skin though, especially around Luke, and the last thing he wanted was for any of those younger guys to think he was a ‘wimp’. And he sure as hell wasn’t stupid enough to do any of their forfeits. But that dare?

It had been the bane of his year.

It was hard enough trying to drag his team into the playoffs (and thankfully succeeding, despite ultimately falling in the second round), but having any thoughts in his downtime consumed by Gianna? It was almost too much to handle.

He’d known her for years – a friend of a friend in Michigan – and right from the start he’d been head over heels. He knew he’d been obvious about it to everyone other than her, as much as he hated to admit it. Jack had caught on the quickest, happily gossiping to his NTDP buddies who always hung around in the summers, but thankfully Gianna didn’t seem to have a clue. And for the past three years, that’s exactly how he’d wanted it to stay.

To him, she was perfect. The sweetest, most golden-hearted, prettiest girl he’d ever met; any smile she sent his way never failed to fill his stomach with butterflies. Sometimes it felt like torture watching the sun shine off of her straight honey blonde hair, as it cascaded down to her waist, her baby blue eyes sparkling with laughter. Despite his Jack and Co.’s teasing, she never teased him too, even when he made an ass of himself. To him, Gianna was perfect.

And that’s exactly why he’d never been able to tell her how he felt. Why would someone like her, so far out of his league, ever be interested in him? This stupid dare from Jack had been tormenting him for 10 long months, and he hated how much it was consuming him but he couldn’t help it. And if he didn’t tell her? He’d never hear the end of it – and his pride wouldn’t handle it either. All he could hope was that his brother wouldn’t meddle. That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

When Jack Hughes reached out to her last month to check on her summer plans, Gianna had been more than confused. It wasn’t that they weren’t friendly, but if she was going to talk to any of the Hughes brothers, it was always Quinn. Mostly because they were the same age, but also because while Jack usually had a bunch of his old hockey buddies visiting and Luke was doing his own thing, Quinn always made the effort to include her. What started as just being a friend of one of his local friends had developed into a genuine friendship of their own – something she treasured – and him being back from Vancouver was genuinely one of the highlights of her summers.

How could it not be? He was funny and sweet, and yet serious and caring, all at once. It was an intoxicating combination that she’d never seen in a guy her age before, let alone in one that genuinely seemed to like talking to her. It didn’t help that he was one of the most handsome guys she’d ever met either. Maybe not classically handsome, but there was just something about the way his smile lit up his whole expression that sent her heart fluttering. That, and the way he always took the time to talk to her, even when there were a lot of other people hanging around.

So Jack reaching out? Strange.

Still, she sent her commiserations for his season (gently of course) and responded to his own questions about how her job was going, before he got to the point. He was organising a welcome back/start of the summer long weekend at their cabin – Friday evening to Monday morning – and he wanted to know if she wanted to join them in the group.

For Jack to ask this specifically? Even stranger than him just reaching out.

The temptation of spending time with Quinn in a smaller group setting though? It was too good to resist, and she’d happily agreed. Jack had told her to just pack a bag of clothes and leave everything else up to him (including her transport up to the cabin), which she knew in her bones felt hinky but ultimately decided to ignore. Whatever Jack was up to, she knew he wasn’t cruel in the slightest, so for now she was happy to go along with whatever his plans were – even if one of the ‘instructions’ had been to keep it a ‘surprise’ that she was going, whatever that meant. She could only hope Quinn wouldn’t hate the surprise. That, and the hope that she wouldn’t make an ass of herself. Quinn didn’t think of her as any more than a friend, she knew that, so she had to keep her feelings under wraps.

That shouldn’t be too hard, right?

“Jack, what did you do?” Quinn hissed.

“Thanks for organising the welcome back start of the summer party, Jack. Thanks for inviting all the guests, Jack. Thanks for making sure that I didn’t have anything to stress about, Jack.”

Quinn just pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow, making Jack snicker.

“Look, man, you can take the floor if you’re that beat up about it. It’s one weekend – you can handle sharing a room with Gianna for three nights.”

That’s what Quinn was mad about. Jack had taken it upon himself to sort out ‘room assignments’ for the long weekend in the cabin – clearly having gotten Trevor and Cole in on it because they were refusing to help him fix it – leaving Gianna stuck in sharing a room with him. He genuinely couldn’t believe that Jack was forcing Gianna into this, giving her little choice on what to do, and didn’t know what else to do himself as the embarrassment flooded through his veins.

What the hell was Jack up to? Why was he meddling so much?

Quinn knew his brother was up to something when instead of just bringing Trevor, Turcs, and Cole with him, Gianna was sitting blissfully ignorant in the front seat of the car too. It wasn’t that Gianna was the only girl, but she was the only girl sharing a room/sofa/pull-out bed with a guy she wasn’t dating, and he hated that Jack had created this awkward situation in the first place.

How could he fix it?

“Uh, Quinn?”

Quinn snapped his head up at the sound of Gianna’s voice calling to him down the stairs, ignoring Jack and Trevor’s stupid grins (other than to punch Jack in the arm on his way past) to jog upstairs to find out what was wrong. He found her in the doorway of the room they were ‘assigned’ and it wasn’t until he poked his head over her shoulder that he remembered the one detail he really shouldn’t have forgotten.

This was his usual bedroom. With only one bed.

True, it was a queen-size bed, but it was still only one bed. No wonder Jack looked so pleased with himself. Fuck.

“Um, I am so sorry about Jack. I should’ve kicked his ass harder while we were growing up,” Quinn sighed.

Gianna let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “I can sleep on that bench at the foot of the bed. There’s more than enough room for me there.”

She was petite…but no, no way.

“Definitely not, I can,” Quinn said.

“Your legs will hang over the end of it,” she pointed out, smiling wryly.

He tried not to wince. That was a good point. He didn’t know what was showing on his face but it made Gianna put her hands on her hips.

“We’ll figure it out later. This is an after-bonfire-tonight Gianna-and-Quinn problem,” she said firmly.

Quinn found himself nodding in agreement, too dazed by her words to say anything useful. Giana-and-Quinn. He liked the sound of that.

“There’s only one bed.”

“There’s only one bed?! Gi, you have to make a move!”

“And have him completely freak out? Absolutely not.”

“Quinn will not freak out. Everyone knows that he likes you.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone.”

“Then why hasn’t he ever said anything?”

“I think Jack is trying to kick his ass into motion.”

“Oh. Oh!”

This was his own personal circle of hell. Even without looking at him or hearing him, he knew Jack was laughing at him somewhere. Luke had already given up on his pathetic nature, passing him a cold beer before walking off to literally anywhere else. What was wrong? It should be a picture-perfect night – the bonfire was roaring, drinks were flowing, music was playing…and Gianna was dancing.

Not by herself of course, with the other girls. But still – she was dancing, and he was in torment.

While the other girls were trying to act all cute and coquettish (which, more power to them, it was clearly working on the other guys, whatever they intended), Gianna was just flowing to the music, eyes closed and clearly in her own world. She was mesmerising, captivating, all of the synonyms. He was completely and utterly screwed, and not in a fun way.

Jack was definitely laughing at him.

He was so lost in a trance in fact, that he missed her walking over to him, only breaking out of his thoughts when she thumped down in the chair next to him.

“Hey Quinn, you look lonely over here,” she grinned.

He felt his cheeks heat with a tell-tale blush, making her laugh. It was almost musical, totally unfair, and as usual she was leaving him tongue tied.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just getting some peace and quiet,” he managed to blurt out.

Her smile dimmed slightly before returning in full force. “I won’t disturb you any more then.”

Fuck, damn it, no!

“You’re not disturbing me,” he said quickly, shaking his head, “Adding to the peace, if anything.”

Was that desperate? It sounded desperate.

But Gianna just laughed again, settling back into her chair. He didn’t know if it was a trick of the light but the relief that flooded his body seemed to be reflected in her face. She was glad she wasn’t disturbing him?

“Your brother sure knows how to throw a party,” Gianna murmured.

“That’s Jack, life and soul of the party,” Quinn mused.

He hated the pang that rang through his chest. She admired Jack. She admired Jack’s joie de vivre, something he’d never had and would never had. How could he compete with that?

“Yeah Chelsea’s all over that, she loves it,” Gianna grinned, jerking her chin to their right.

What?

Quinn turned his head to see a pretty little brunette (not as pretty as Gianna, of course) leaning up against Jack’s chest, giggling at something that could in no way be that funny.

Gianna was happy for Chelsea?

Oh.

Oh!

“Should I give Trevor a heads up to find somewhere else to sleep?” he smirked.

“Trevor Zegras can figure himself out,” Gianna snorted, smirking slightly back.

If he didn’t adore her before, he was sold hook, line, and sinker now. He had to say something. He had to tell her how he felt. He couldn’t go on any longer with all of this pressure sitting on his chest, weighing him down. He needed to know, either way, how she felt about him too.

“Hey Gi?”

“Yeah Quinn?” she said, turning her head to face him with a smile.

“I’m sorry if this sounds stupid, or unwanted, or just completely out of the blue. It’s just that, well, I can’t get this out of my head and now I’m rambling and-”

Gianna cut him off with a giggle, pressing a finger to his lips.

“Start again,” she prompted, dropping her hand back into her lap.

But her eyes were filled with something he hadn’t expected. Hope. That was everything he needed to steel himself.

“I like you, Gianna. Really like you. And when Jack dared me-”

“Wait, Jack dared you?”

The hurt in her face immediately sent a cold wave through his body.

“No, no, not like that. He dared me to confess my feelings to you. That’s literally it, I swear. He knows that I like you – all the guys do. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say anything,” he explained.

The hurt in her expression melted away, and she nodded, her smile turning shy. Thank fuck for that.

“That does explain why Jack reached out a month ago to find out if I could join you guys this weekend,” she mused.

A month ago? That meddling little rat.

Still, if he hadn’t meddled…

“So you’re not mad or upset that I like you?” Quinn asked hopefully.

Gianna huffed out a laugh, shaking her head, making his whole body feel like it was bursting into fireworks.

“The opposite, actually,” she admitted, “I just…I didn’t think you’d ever see me as more than a friend.”

She didn’t think…?

Without caring about their audience, their setting, or even their drinks, Quinn leant forward and kissed her. He barely heard the surprised soft moan she let out over the cheering of his idiot brother and idiot friends, choosing to flip them off before cupping her face with that same hand. He’d wasted so much time. But now, they had the whole summer to make up for it.

#my writing #quinn hughes fic #rox's birthday bingo #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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pippin-katz · 9 months

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Alright, I have mostly restrained myself, but I cannot stay quiet any longer. There is a question that has been eating at me...

Whose fucking idea was it to have Henry (Nicholas) constantly grabbing Alex's (Taylor's) hair?!

Note: I'm adding this in after finishing writing this because this was supposed to be a relatively short post, and then it spiraled out of control, so if you want to listen to me gradually lose my sanity over this question, feel free to keep reading, cause it is admittedly funny lmfao

Another Note: This is me being overly sarcastic and hyper cause it’s funny for me to think about that situation. This is supposed to be a funny post. I said that at the end, but I’m adding it here too.

Listen, remember what they said about the intimate scenes: they were planned down to every detail. Remember what Nicholas said about having conversations with Taylor, Matthew, and Robbie about boundaries, what was okay, and not okay. Remember that they have A LINE IN THE FILM ABOUT HENRY GRABBING HIS HAIR (iconic).

Do you see it? Do you see where this is going?

The hair pulling/grabbing is not random. It doesn't happen in just the New Year's kiss to set up a funny line later.

It happens all the time.

Even in soft moments, Henry has a hand in his hair.

The hair grabbing gets its own shot in their love-making scene.

Consistent small actions (twisting a ring, biting nails, drumming with fingers, etc.) are character habits. They're things that they do all the time, subconsciously or for a decisive reason, usually if you know that action causes a specific response that you want for any reason.

There's a coworker that drives you crazy, so you purposefully hum really loudly whenever they're in the room to piss them off. Your friend has a sensitivity to the color red, so on days you know you're going to see them, you avoid wearing it. Your partner has muscle cramps, so you massage their shoulders whenever you're standing behind them.

These habits usually start as conscious decisions, then gradually become subconscious, hence the term "habit". You've been doing something for so long or for frequently enough that you do it while on "autopilot".

I think it's pretty obvious why this action happens. It's because A: Henry likes feeling of his hair, and/or B: Alex likes when someone touches his hair. Note: This could be in any context, not just sexual; running fingers through it, washing it, styling it, etc.

Either you figured out what I am going to say, and you're wondering why I'm blabbering on so much, or you're just confused about where I'm going with this at all, so here's where it all clicks together.

When you have a character, habits are something you give them to give them more personality, more insight into their mentality through subtle things they do. It's something the director/writer/actor chooses to give to the character.

BUT - nothing in the intimacy scenes happen without being discussed and agreed upon.

This isn't like Nicholas fidgeting with the signet ring to show Henry's nerves. This isn't like Taylor frequently making little hand gestures (peace signs, finger guns, tapping the side of his glass, etc.) because Alex has undiagnosed ADHD and that's one way to physically imply it.

They can do those things without being told or given "permission" because it's their portrayal of the character, it doesn't effect anyone else, and small details like that are typically up to the actors, unless the director is incredibly strict.

BUT - AGAIN WITH FEELING - NOTHING IN THE INTIMACY SCENES HAPPEN WITHOUT BEING DISCUSSED AND AGREED UPON.

That means that someone, one of the four of them, brought up grabbing his hair as a suggestion, and further more, Taylor (and Nick, but obviously Taylor's consent is more important in this specific case) was fine with it.

Think about it. Think about them sitting around a table discussing the kinds of stuff that Matthew and Robbie would want to see, and what Nick and Taylor would be okay with. Think about the fact that one of them was sitting there, and looked at the other three, and said: "What if Henry grabs Alex's hair a lot?"

And then the four of them had to sit there, and talk, in depth, about what that would mean.

*inhale*

Who... the fuck... said it?

WHO SAID IT?!

Did Matthew and Robbie present it as part of the initial planning?? Or did one of them look Taylor and Nick in the eye and say it?? Did Nick throw it out there as something he thought Henry would do?? Was it Taylor??? Since it's his hair???

Cause it's not just like, running Nick running his fingers through it, combing it during some tender moment, like when Alex talks about his father being an immigrant.

HE FUCKING GRABS IT.

What the fuck were these conversations like?! I cannot think of a single way to have that conversation where someone wouldn't have to say something that would make me make me go UHHH-

What? So - Matthew's like "how do you guys feel about touching each other's hair?" -and they're like "what, you mean like running our fingers through it?" -and he's like "nah yanking it while you're making out"

Like... what do you say to that?! - "oh which one of us would do it to the other?" -and what, did Taylor fucking volunteer?? Just like - "he can pull my hair, it's chill" - WTF?!

Or did he suggest it in the first place, like they were discussing things that would that could be part of Alex and Henry's dynamic and he's just like - "he could pull my hair?" -and the other three just stared at him for a second, because wtf that's a intensely intimate action to suggest?!

Hair touching in general is really intimate, in like, every context, at least I think to most people, and definitely to me. Most people wouldn't just let someone, even someone they were friends with, start playing with their hair or touching their head. I wouldn't even let my best friend randomly touch my head; I would instinctually try to bite their hand off (not a joke). Maybe I'm a slight bit more touch-repulsed than most, but I feel like it's safe to say that the majority of people don't want their hair and head being touched, grabbed, or played with unless they say so.

And again, they do it CONSISTENTLY. It's not a one and done scene. It is an actual dynamic between Alex and Henry they chose to establish.

SO I ASK AGAIN: WHOSE IDEA WAS IT?!

I'm looking at you four, Matthew, Robbie, Taylor, and Nicholas. I know it was one of you cheeky bastards that suggested it. One of you brought it up, and the rest of you were like "sure".

I will be forever haunted by this mystery, as I doubt I will ever get an answer.

Note: Please don't take this super seriously. I'm not trying to imply anything; I'm literally just joking around cause the concept of having that conversation boggles my mind lol

#lol you thought my next essay would be another one shot analysis #but autistic and have adhd #so you have to wait lmfao #red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb thoughts #alex claremont diaz #taylor zakhar perez #henry hanover stuart fox #nicholas galitzine #matthew lopez #robbie taylor hunt #firstprince

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groceryreceiptss · 6 months

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𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | j.p.

james potter x reader | word count : 7.2k | requested

↳ part one / part two ───✧₊∘

summary : james always said that you were his best friend and you always said that he was yours. but you didn't realize that the meaning of the words had changed for you until it was a week before the yule ball and you two were walking through the snow covered streets of hogsmeade (reader's pov)

contains : my writing (warning lmao), pretty cheesy. (childhood) best friends to lovers!! flufff, herbal tea slander (sorry if you like it), lots of out-of-place references (like pjo and spiderman, i'm SORRY, i can't help it). i’m never sure on what to put in here to be honest so just let me know!

a/n : soo i might have gone a biiiiit overboard and make it a two part! this one takes place in hogsmeade (mostly), told from reader's point of view. i'm planning for the second one to be from james' point of view and for it to take place during the yule ball (no promises on when i’m going to finish it though TT )

credits : lovelyy dividers by @cafekitsune, pins i used (1) (2) (3)

───────────────────────

The castle seemed to have its own separate life in December. Snow, trees, warm hearth, lights, candles, sweaters, hot drinks, and not to mention the food. The students always seemed to be reinvigorated by the time this month came too. Excited whispers floated the hallways in strings of exclamations.

This year, they were way louder than usual though. And the reason for it was visible in every room. The vibrant yet elegant posters, the talks of elaborate plans, scenes of people asking and being asked (and the cheers that would follow it), conversations of suits and dresses, and absolutely nonchalant talks of dates and hopes.The Yule Ball.

This extravagance of the event only happened once in every four years, so of course, everyone was excited. Nothing could be more thrilling than a chance to live out your silly teenage dreams and be like one in the movies.

You loved it too. The smiles, the laughter, the gossip, the drama. It was fun, though you weren't expecting much for yourself. You weren't being a downer or whatever (which was what James would definitely tell you), it was just that, if truth be told, you had learned not to hope too much in anything. Retrospective had taught you a long time ago that it would only tarnish the joy out of a perfectly good moment.

Today was a festive Saturday morning. Talks of the ball were echoing off the walls in a more persistent way than ever. Understandable for they only had a week left before the festivities, anxiety and anticipation were sure rising.

You were just about to enter The Great Hall, the comforting smell of good breakfast already reached your nose, before someone suddenly threw their arms around you from the back, throwing you off balance a bit, his warmth enveloping you. James Potter.

Funny how someone's laugh could be so familiar to one's ears.

"How are you in this fine lovely morning?" The bespectacled boy greeted you as you turned around, eyes meeting his, your lips turned upward mirroring his smile. He really did have the most annoying charming smile. It was infectious.

"Freezing to death," you responded, slinging his arm around your shoulders as both of you walked the rest of the way to the hall. "Where are the others?”

"Already there," he scoffed, and continued on dramatically, "They left me to fend for myself!"

"To be fair, you are a heavy sleeper."

"You're one to talk," he grinned at you, "Why do you think both of us are the last ones to arrive?"

And he hit it right. You straightened up, ready to defend yourself. "Well, look–"

But he was way ahead of you. "Good book?" he smiled knowingly. And right again.

"So good," You nodded your head vigorously. "You should read it sometimes. I'll add that to your list." You waved your hand away casually, as if to say ‘done and done.’

"I look forward to reading it."

You smiled up at him, agreed. "Good, because you must." And before you could stop it, you went on telling him all about your reading from last night.

He didn't seem to mind, he never did. In fact, he always seemed to be interested in everything you had to say, so you continued. It had become a routine. You told him about a book he had never heard of, he told him about a match you had never watched.

James Potter was your best friend. Always had and always would be. The two of you had known each other since you were five and knew nothing and everything. Both of your parents had been best friends and it just progressed naturally. They would often spend the holidays and breaks together and so his house was yours as much as yours was his.

And when both of you got the Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven and were sorted into Gryffindor, it was inevitable that you grew even closer. Everything about him had become so familiar now. It was like you knew him at the back of your hand.

His favorite color, his favorite food, his favorite song. How his eyes brightened a bit when he laughed. The dimples that came with his smile. How he would bite his lip a bit when McGonagall caught him and his friends in their mischievous schemes, or when he was thinking of a lie to tell her.

How he liked to put his arm around your shoulder, or tucked it in the inside of your arm every time he saw you. His glasses that were always lopsided, and his hair that was always tousled. Just like it was right now.

Both of you sat down in front of Remus and Sirius, who were laughing about something. Crisp toast, bacon, and eggs on the plates completely abandoned. You eyed them closely and wondered how two people could be so oblivious to one another when they were sitting that close to each other. And look at Remus! He was almost red.

If only you did not have a sense of decency and could have it in you to interfere with these two, then maybe, just maybe, they'd finally admit their feelings and go to the Yule Ball together.

"Where's Wormtail?" James asked them, getting himself a plate of eggs and sausages. You decided to grab some toasts, marmalade, and some eggs.

"Don't know," Sirius shrugged. "Probably hatching a plan to ask Jane out."

"Doesn't she already have a date?" You asked him, confusion on your face.

"Not sure," Remus chimed in, "it's hard to keep track these days." True that.

The four of you talked some more. You and James tried multiple times trying to get these two to talk about their dates to the ball—or more like the lack of it—and did a bait and switch. And you were good at it, but boy were they better.

After their plates had emptied, Remus said that he was going to make a quick run at the library and Sirius, very subtly and casually, offered that he could come too because he was "bored." You and James could barely contain your smiles until they disappeared out of view.

He grabbed a bit of your toast, put some of his fruits on your plate in exchange for it, and asked, "So... what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Who are you going with to the dance?"

"Oh," you pondered a bit, biting one of the strawberries. "I don't know. I'm thinking of going by myself, maybe? I think it'd be fun."

"No one has asked you yet?" He asked, surprised.

You let out a laugh at his expression. "Don't pretend to be shocked now, James. I don't exactly have a line of people waiting to ask me out."

"People here have bad tastes then.” He concluded.

You shrugged, “I don’t mind. It’d be a pity spending the night with some stranger I don’t know, or even like, anyway. What about you and Lily?”

James' die-hard affection for the red-head girl was never a secret. The entire school knew it. It had been going on since first year and you doubted it would ever stop.

The way he always talked about her — with so much fondness and care. It was, the way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way she talked. But you noticed the way he looked at her too. It was like he fell in love every time he laid his eyes on her.

You figured that he was going to at least work up the courage to ask her out to the ball, even if it would only end up in vain, but no news from him so far. It was weird, like a sudden change of the weather. You had had to endure listening to him for what seemed like ages after Lily talked to him for the first time. And then another and another and another about his failed attempts at asking her out. What's with the quiet and silence now?

Was the fact that she turned him down again for the dance hurt him that bad? Oh, now you felt guilty for asking.

What was so strange, though, was that there wasn't sadness on his face now. No hidden pain or aches. Instead, he said, ever so casually, your toast in his hand "I haven't asked her yet."

You were taken aback, shocked, eyebrows scrunched up. "What?"

James' fruitless efforts with Lily was also very much widely known, but he was never ashamed of it. You couldn't remember the last time he passed an opportunity to confess his— as he said it —undying love for her.

"What, what do you mean you haven't asked her out?" You sputtered out.

He chuckled nervously at your response, raising his hands in trying to calm you down. "Is it really that surprising?"

"Considering the fact that you, James Potter, have been after her for like forever and never faltered in his efforts to make her know that he is head over heels for her, then I'd say, yeah. It's pretty surprising." You responded, baffled. "What changed?"

"Nothing! I just figured that she'd turn me down anyway and didn't bother. And then I heard she already accepted someone else's offer anyways." he shrugged.

"Oh," you put his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry."

James squeezed yours in return and gave you a smile. "Nothing to be sorry about. I'm fine, honestly." he assured you. “I think it might be for the best.”

Though you didn’t believe that, he did look fine. And James was never one to hide his feelings from you— in fact it was the total opposite, he was always ever so dramatic — so you took his words. You bit your lip and asked, "You want some tea?"

"What is it this time?" He asked as he took a bite of the egg.

You grabbed one of the teacups and gave it a sniff. "Oh," you scrunched up your nose from the smell, "Herbal, I think." you put it down. "That's a no then."

He groaned, "Why couldn't they just serve normal tea?"

"Because then we won't have a ‘refined’ palate." You rolled your eyes, quoting something Madam Pince had told you in the library for what seemed like a long time ago.

"That's a silly excuse for serving only herbal tea at breakfast."

You couldn't say that you disagree.

"So,” he started. “What are you doing today? Any plans?"

"No,” you shook your head, “Nothing much." You poured yourself a glass of orange juice and passed the jug to him. "I'll probably just read. You?"

He poured one himself and grinned at you. "That depends, you want to go to Hogsmeade?"

"Uh-oh," you let out a laugh, sensing trouble. "What are you up to?"

He gasped dramatically. "What do you mean ‘what are you up to?’ I am offended.” He placed a hand on his chest for good measure. “Could it be possible that maybe I just want to spend the day at Hogsmeade with my best friend?”

You raised your eyebrows at him.

He laughed. “I’m not going to do anything, honestly. And It'll be fun, I promise!" he nudged you. "We haven't gone there in a while." Well, that was true.

"It's cold," you argued.

"I have an extra coat if you want double."

"It will be very crowded."

"Then we'll find some place no one knows."

"That's impossible."

"Anything is possible, love. Please." He pleaded, looking at you with his big doe eyes. It was so unfair of the world to give someone such gorgeous brown eyes and left the others to dust. So unfair.

You sighed, letting out at last. He would be the death of you one of these days. "Fine," — which brought a whispered "Yes!" from him— "But we're going to have to visit the quill shop."

"Consider it done."

──────────────────∘

Hogsmeade was truly beautiful in the winter. Its snow-covered roads, the orange lights visible in every shop, and the chattering crowds in their coats and scarves. Though the hits of cold wind on your face made you shiver, you were glad that you decided to go. And that you were with James. His arms around your shoulders provided you warmth just as much as his breath on your cheeks did.

As promised, both of you visited Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. James had complained at first and tried to negotiate by saying you should "save the best for last" and head to Zonko's instead to open the trip, but after both of you saw the line the place'd formed, he agreed that maybe quills were more fascinating.

"Why are there so many types of ink?" he whispered loudly at you as he examined the shelves, "Who cares if it's lavender purple or lilac purple? They're purple!"

"Lots of people do." You answered before quietly squealing to him after finding a rare gem. "Look!"

You pushed the ink bottles to his face so he'd read the label. "Rainbow ink?"

"Rainbow ink!" You nodded excitedly.

"You do not need rainbow ink, love." He shook his head but couldn't force back the affectionate smile that had appeared on his face.

"Just like you don't need those hand-biting teacups or whatever from Zonko's, and yet here we are." You hummed giddily as you grabbed one of the brand new boxes of rainbow ink from the shelf.

"It's nose-biting teacups— please don't take the fun out of it," he corrected you, "and yes I do need it! It's fun! Trashy fun, but fun!”

"Whatever you say, love." Something caught your attention and you immediately grabbed the cuff of his shirt. "Oh! Let's look here!"

With the rainbow ink tucked safely in your coat pocket, you and James walked out of the shop and visited Zonko's. He recounted all of the items he had once bought and how he had used them up, mostly with Sirius. He ended up getting something called Inflatable Tongue (for what you didn't want to know) before both of you walked out.

You turned to him with a glint in your eyes. "Honeydukes?"

He returned the mischief and grinned. "I thought you'd never ask. Time?"

You thought it over, looking at the clock nailed onto the wall of the shop through the glass.

“Five minutes,” you pointed out. “Letter?”

"B,” he decided as he rubbed his gloved hands together. "Ready?"

"One..." you looked over at him, I'm going to obliterated you.

"Two…”

“Three.. Go!" you declared before both of you ran to the brightly colored store.

You and James had many traditions. This was one of them.

The challenge was simple. You only had to find as many candies as possible that started with the decided letter in those few minutes.

It had started with a silly argument in second year, about who knew more about sweets and, later on, the knowledge of Hogsmeade's own candy shop's stocks and products. You only had been able to visit by third year of course, and the real game had only begun there, but the fire was already established way before.

Your friend, Marlene, thought it was stupid, and so did the rest of the Marauders, but there was something to be said about the similar stubbornness you two had. Sirius had said they were eerily alike.

You and James entered the shop with thrill and jumpy nerves, but were still decent enough to try not to run like little children that would definitely result in getting kicked out. Like that time both of you visited those muggles candy stores over a summer when you were younger. Lessons were learned.

You immediately went to the right part of the store, claiming the territory. Directed by your decision, James went to the left.

You knew the store well. James didn’t know it, but you had been visiting this cheerful shop a lot recently. Mostly because Mary was so down after her breakup with her toxic ex and these treats are one of the things that could cheer her up. But on the side, you had done your research. The Bs were on this side of the store.

Bolandi’s Exquisite Crystallized Pineapple. Blood-flavored lollipop. Bat’s Blood Soup? Gross. And some chunks of brownies.

Five minutes passed, and with James only got Bertie’s and bubblegums, you came out of the shop victorious.

You jumped and threw your hands in the air. “And miss y/l/n won again. Thank you, thank you.” You bowed to a nonexistent audience.

He only smiled at you. “Don’t be so proud now. Remember, miss y/l/n, I am still the running champion here. 3-2” he reminded you with a smug smile on his face.

You shrugged. “That won’t be hard to feat, you mark my words.“ you offered him a look into your paper bag. “Want to try some?”

“What’s new?”

“Bat’s blood soup.” Your nose wrinkled at the name. “He said that it’s actually chocolate, but the name is too off putting.”

“It’d be good with strawberries,” he offered. “We can grab some from dinner later.”

You nodded your head as both of you made your way through the village. “I think Mary would like it too anyways.”

“Oh, right.” James said. He and Mary weren’t close but they were friendly, especially from being past neighbors and all. “How is she these days?”

“Better every day I'm sure. It’s for the best, Matt’s an asshole.”

“We can only hope that that itching powder will find its way real soon.” he grinned at their latest form of tricks. “Or maybe during the Yule Ball actually. That would be so much better.”

You snorted. “Usually I would say that’s cruel, but he deserves it. We thank you for your service.” You continued solemnly.

He waved his hand as if tipping off his hat. “And you are so very welcome.”

Both of you walked through the well-lit village. Talking about everything and nothing, laughing at that student making a fool of himself in one of the shops, and slipped some bites of the crystallized pineapples.He asked you about how far into the book you were now, and you asked him about his Quidditch team and whether the newest member– someone from year two, you believed–was still afraid of heights.

James had his left arm around you and your gloved hands were holding his–the one near your neck–fighting for some sense of warmth. You and James hadn’t done this in a while and you’d forgotten how much you missed it. You looked up at him as he was talking about the second-year boy and saw the flecks of snow scattered on his face, his askew glasses, and his jet black hair. It made him look a tad bit adorable, you thought. His brown eyes that had that bit of green in them were alight with something so charmingly infectious that you couldn’t help but smile.

You looked at him as he talked about the latest match, his right hand going everywhere as he was talking at the speed of 893 miles per hour. You loved seeing him talk excitedly about something. There was just something so beautiful in hearing the people you cared about talk about things that they cared about so passionately and ardently, no matter how trivial they may be. It was like you were trusted enough to see this crazy side of them. It’s nice.

A group of third-years passed by and you heard them complaining about not being able to go to the ball yet. Something about dances, dresses and suits, and dying alone.

"Oh," you fought a smile to keep it from surfacing as you remembered a particular last week incident. “How are your dance moves coming along?"

He groaned. “Not this again. You're trying not to laugh."

"I'm not!" but a chortle escaped you either way. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I know you're trying your best."

"I am!" he whined. "It's just really hard and Padfoot isn't exactly the best dance partner for practicing," he grumbled.

"Steps-on-you-shoes kind of bad or doesn't-catch-you-after-the-spin-that-you-end-up-falling kind of bad?" You said with a smile and with raised eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes as he revealed a sheepish smile. As if he could forget. "I said I'm sorry."

“I know. but it was right there. I couldn't not do it.”

A week ago, in the empty common room at night, James had asked you to teach him the basic dance steps most people used for the ball. Despite his mother's graces for it, you found that her son was very much an amateur.

He kept stepping on your foot and collided with you as he took the wrong directions. You were laughing and kept saying that it was fine, but he still apologized every other second of it.

The ending to the attempts was a disaster. A playful one for you, but he seemed very embarrassed of it. You had suggested the spin—and honestly it was your fault to have recommended it in the first place when it had only been an hour and a half—and as he tried to pull you back, he might have tugged your hand a bit too hard and you ended up crashing into one another. Your figure on top of his, his hands on your waist.

His cheeks had turned slightly red, and yours had grown hot as the fall stopped and you found your face so close to his. Your eyes inevitably found his brown ones and you felt his rapid breaths on your skin. His eyes have a little bit of green in them, like stars, your mind wandered before catching yourself. You let out a slight awkward cough and tried to laugh it off as you made yourself stand up.

He gave you a string of apologies afterward, and although you had assured him that it was all in good fun, he never asked you to teach him again. You kind of wished he would, for reasons you couldn't quite explain, but you didn't want to push him when he had turned to Sirius to "let the failures just befall on him", as he'd said it.

"But, either way, have you improved under the capable hands of Sirius Black, Mr. Potter?" you asked him now, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, he's definitely not as capable as you." He gave you an admiring smile, and you almost looked away from it. Taking compliments was never one of your talents. Especially if you felt undeserved of it.

"Well, it might come to you as a surprise, but what we learned was the easy part. I'm an intermediate myself." Deflected and dodged.

He laughed. "Either way, you're still graceful at it. You know, the incident did happen again. With Sirius."

You snorted. "What?"

"Yeah. Luckily, it's still in the privacy of our dorm. so it's good."

"I'd give money to see that."

"Would never let that happen in a million years."

“With the way things are going, I might. The dance is a public affair.”

“I’d have to get better by next week then.” He said it solemnly like it was a promise, but he probably was kidding. That small child-like smile on his face said it all.

You had walked to the empty side of the village. You didn't think there was one, but the snow covered streets around you were scarce of people. Only a few passersby before they too disappeared into the warm shelter of a wooden shop. Just the way you preferred it.

A sudden thought crossed your mind and before you could even give it a second thought, your mouth decided to give it a voice. "You want to try again?"

He looked around, his snow flecked eyebrows raising, and his smile tinted with a hint of amusement. "Here?"

Well now you wished you hadn't. But, playing along was always better than an embarrassed "never mind, that was stupid" right?

"Well, yes!" you told him as if you definitely didn't have any second thoughts at all. "Almost no one’s here. Besides," You continued with a light feather edge on your words. "I heard it's freeing to dance in the cold December wind."

He shot you with one of his cheeky smiles. "Is that so?" before putting on his thinking face, a guess on the tip of his tongue. "Romance?" He ventured.

"Partly. It's a coming-of-age drama and such." You corrected him. "It's also on our winter list for this year you'll see."

"Can't wait." and he meant it. But only because, "I hope you'll also like that match tape I got of a muggles' football match. They're entertaining too to say the least."

After years of being best friends together, he had learned that you liked to talk in quotes from the books you'd read and the movies you'd watched. And after years of spending winter and summer breaks together watching and listening to the muggles' form of entertainment media, it was like you shared the same frequency. He could guess which type of movies or shows or songs you had probably heard the saying from, and you could guess which sport match did he reference that joke from.

It was a whole different game. Total number of players : two.

He stopped in his tracks, letting his arm fall from his shoulder, making your neck shudder a bit at the loss of warmth.

"So," he gave you a gentleman's bow—and a playful smile along with it—and offered his gloved hand. "May I have this dance?"

You almost let out a surprised laugh at the gesture. You took a ladylike bow, pinching the fabric of your invisible royal dress. "That depends," you said in an exaggerated accent, "are you able to do so without giving me a head injury?"

He returned the overplayed accent. "I shall make no promises. But, if i were to slip and let you fall, best believe I'd try my best to catch you."

On the usual days, you'd bring up Gwen Stacy falling into her demise in one of the remakes of the Spider-Man movies. How Peter wasn't able to catch her and she ended up dead. James would've gotten the reference—you had cried to him for hours after that first watch last summer—but you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

And yet instead, you were here, trying not to let the invisible red take too much space on your already freezing cheeks. You smiled, and it was a smile you couldn't contain. Not like others. It was one that just kept going wider and wider the more you looked at the beam plastered on his face until it wasn't physically possible anymore.

James, your head echoed his name as you mentally shook your head. A soft laugh escaped your lips. What have you done?

“We’re going to look stupid.” You admitted.

“Hey, it was your idea." He reminded you, his hand still stood in the air.

"It was a moment of foolery." But you took it.

The wind had started to pick up its course again and caused the snow to fall rapidly. Under the glow of the streetlights, you two danced and laughed. It started off as an attempt to the formal dance two would usually use at a ball, but after one or two or seven missteps, you agreed that maybe you should start over.

There was no music to accompany you but there was a faint piano playing from one of the shops. It whispered gently with the wind that swept you and James' rowdy steps.

His laughters were echoing in your ears, into your mind. His breath was on your cheeks, and his gloved hand on your woolen one was a warming touch. His glasses were a bit askew, and a part of his hair that came out of his beanie was flecked with snow.

There was no rhyme nor reason to your steps or the placement change of your hands. It was so stupid and silly. One minute it was an amateur attempt at classic dances, and another you were fooling around as if you were at a house party.

It was nice. Like you two were five again and you knew nothing and everything. Childhood innocence, where have you gone?

There were a lot of things you were late to realize about your friendship with James. You guessed you didn’t really think much about a friendship that had started since you could remember. It had always just been there, all your life. So long that you couldn’t imagine a life without it. A steadfast thing, the most you ever had one with someone that used to be a stranger to you.

You couldn’t even imagine that now. James Potter, a stranger. It felt so wrong. You had known too much about him, he had known too much about you. He was memorized in your mind.

From his hazel brown eyes that felt like the warm hearth of your home every time you looked at them, to the quirk of his lips and the gentleness of his smile.

To his voice that had once become a soothing presence after you had had paranoid nightmares about one of the people you knew dying. To the sound of his laughter that accompany the hot days in June and the freezing weather of winter, like how it did right now.

How he would run his hands through his hair when he was frustrated or didn’t know what to do. Or how his handwriting looked and how the Gs and Ys are always so sloppy and how the Ss barely look like one.

And so many things. So many other things you couldn’t imagine living without. Maybe this was just you being too present in a moment that you couldn’t think of it being ripped away and making you not be there anymore, but you weren’t sure.

You looked at him, and it was like the rest of the world fell away. His eyes had stars in them and his cheeks were red from the cold.

Your thoughts raced in a hundred miles per hour as your breaths and the pulse in your veins tried to catch up. All of them were beating to get out of your skin and onto the snow. They all had the same jitters, the same sound, and the same beat. And they all were talking in one unison, a whisper of the name of the person in front of you.

James Potter. James Potter. James. Oh. Oh.

It was a moment too late before you realized you had not been watching your steps and tripped yourself over a good mound of snow.

“Woah, woah” You started as you fell forward onto the snow, with your hands still on James’.

You heard the soft thump of the snow hitting James’ head, as your body fell on top of his. The rough old material of his father's coat met with your similar one. Your eyes were inches from his and so were your lips. You didn’t know what to think, your mind just went blank at the sudden proximity.

You should— wait, what should you do? You should— right, oh my god, apologize!

Fighting your inner thoughts and denying its claims, you immediately got up. Maybe too quickly for nonchalance but your racing brain didn’t have time to think it through. Not when it was jammed with mixed and confused signals from your heart.

“James! I’m so so sorry!” you offered him your hand and pulled him to stand, brushing off the snow from his coat. “Sorry, I wasn’t in my mind for that one second. Sorry.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, or even look at him—which almost never was a problem before, at least not because of this kind of… thing— so you resumed correcting his lopsided beanie.

He just laughed though. All casual as if you didn’t just find a big revelation. “It’s okay, it’s fine.” He tried to assure you. But you still wouldn’t stop, so he took hold of your hands to stop them from fixing his woolen headwear.

Great, now you were forced to look at him. You just hoped the cold weather was still a believable reason to cover up for whatever your face may look like now. Flushed, probably. But hopefully not too embarrassed.

You looked at his face, a trace of mirth still on his lips that were so close to you a minute ago. His face was kinda red too, but it was probably because of the season.

“It’s okay,” he assured you again. “You know,” an end to his smile turned a bit more upward and you knew that a tease was coming. “You reminded me of an old me,” he continued breezily, “i made this same mistake too back then. When i was more foolish.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snort. James, james. Alright, just let things—and especially you—calm down a little, you told yourself. Let everything go back to normal.

“You mean a week ago, old man?” You lightly punched his arm, before dusting off the snow from your own coat.

“Time is relative. Miles Morales said it himself.” He said as he helped you brush the snow out of your hair and coat. “Or actually it was Ernest whatnot but whatever.”

You let out a breath of laughter as you shook your head. His glasses were crooked so your hands automatically went up to fix it. Like you had done so many times. “There. It was crooked.” You heard yourself explaining.

“Thanks,” he said with that stupid silly smile of his. You hated that smile now. How can one have such a charismatic smile? It wasn’t fair.

“No problem, wise man.” You responded with your new-found nickname for him, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Seaweed brain," He called back, and that made you smile– you didn’t even realize it.

You gave him a nod of approval. "The Percy Jackson reference. Touché."

"I've learned sooo much from you." He said solemnly.

"I know." You smiled up at him. And he looked right into your eyes, that blinding smile of his radiating onto them before suddenly averting his gaze onto the ground, where evidence of your very own accident made a mark on the snow.

James rubbed his hands together, searching for warmth. "Hey, you want to go to the Three Broomsticks? It’ll probably be emptier now.” He offered, like he always did because he was your friend. Your best friend since you could remember.

You didn’t know why you were acting weird. It was only an hour ago when everything was normal. You didn’t know how everything could just change in a matter of seconds. He was your friend, it would be okay. However this would unfold, everything would be fine. Both of you had always overcome things before. It was with James, you two would get through it. You were grateful to have him.

“Oh yeah sure.” You agreed. Wait, was that too quick of a response? Oh fuck it. He was your best friend, he had known you all his life too—which was exactly why if there was something off with you, he’d definitely be the first person to notice it, but you didn’t want to think about it too much. You shook your heads to clear all maddening thoughts. “Have you heard from Frank? Haven’t gone there in a while.”

“Oh, yeah he’s great.” He continued in a whisper, “I heard he has just received a new package of fire whiskey and Sirius and I are hoping to get a snatch of it or two. You know, for the house.”

“Right, for the house,” You rolled your eyes.

He lent out a hand to you, "Shall we?"

You took it and he gave it a soft squeeze, its grip sending vibrations through your bones.

"We shall."

───────────────∘

James was right, it wasn't as crowded as it would be if you had come earlier. Most people here had their drink and company either at noon or late afternoon and night. 3 pm wasn't exactly a busy hour. Though there were still too many people and noises for your comfort, you and James could at least find a table for two in the corner, quieter spot.

He came to the table holding two butterbeers in his hand. Both served hot to minimize the cold. He slid yours down the table and took a seat in front of you. His glasses are turned slightly uneven again.

"So, y/n" he started as you picked up your drink and sighed at the heat it gave you. Your hands were absolutely freezing.

"Hm?" You responded, more focused on the comforting smell that radiated from your cup.

"I've been thinking," He continued, and now you looked up. You were so distracted before that you didn't notice how his hands were moving as if he were drumming his thighs under the table— a habit he often did when he was nervous.

You furrowed your eyebrows for a second but decided to ignore it. "Uh-oh. Nothing good ever comes up from that." You took a careful sip of the butterbeer, its warmth traveled all through your withered body. "New horrible trick ideas?"

He rolled his eyes, a breathy laugh came out of his lips. "Why is it that you always always think the worst of me, miss y/l/n?"

Just this morning, at the Great Hall, every part of you was functioning alright. Nothing going haywire. But now, there was a skipped beat in your heart and a flip in your stomach. You tried to deflect it but the butterflies couldn't be bothered.

"I don't always always think the worst of you James. I just know you." You did, you really did. You wondered if he knew it though.

"Well, I bet you wouldn't guess what's going to come out of my mouth this time." He claimed in a challenging tone.

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Five guesses." He grinned as he pulled up five fingers to illustrate his point. "No retracting."

"Alright then," You accepted the challenge. You silently thought to yourself before voicing it all aloud. "Wasn't a trick, so maybe you are... planning to do something to the Marauders? Like, I don't know, maybe get those two idiots together to the ball?"

He pulled down a finger. "You know, maybe I should. But that wasn't it. You were kinda close though."

Close where? “Sirius and Remus?”

He made a loud incorrect buzzer sound and pulled down another finger.

“Hey, that wasn’t-”

“No retracting,” he reminded you, as he took a sip of his own beverage.

“Not fair,” you grumbled. You thought about it again before guessing, “Oh! Yule Ball shenanigans? Oh wait no-“

Another buzzer sound, and two fingers left. “My, you really don’t know me, do you y/n?” He feigned a dramatic hurt on his face and a slight pout. “You’re close though.”

About the dance? What’s about the dance? “What, you’re going to skip the ball?” You said it as a joke but he wasn’t laughing. In fact, there was just a trace of truth in that smile of his when you said it. “What, I’m right?”

“No. But that depends actually.”

“You’re talking in riddles.”

“Yeah, it’s fun, isn’t it?” His smile had a slight smirk now, like it was still held back or something. “That counted as incorrect by the way.” He made another buzzer sound and one finger left.

You sighed in frustration. The Yule Ball, but it wasn’t about any tricks. So what? Oh. The realization hit you as you felt your heart drop. It was so silly, but bad timing, James. Bad timing.

“You’re finally going to try and ask someone else to go to the ball with you?” You voiced out your thoughts, hoping there wasn’t a hint that could suggest something else; reluctance and hesitation. What, did he meet her in the hallway before you two went out or something?

He pulled his lips together and gave you a small shrug. “Close,” he concluded. “But again that depends.”

You sighed. “Alright, fine. I give up. I surrender. Just tell me.” You almost pleaded with him.

“You’re my best friend, right?”

Right. Best friend. Of course. You nodded. “Mhm.”

“So…” he stopped, like he was nervous to get the words out. That was weird.

A worse idea came to mind.Oh please don’t tell me he’s going to ask me to become his fake date for the ball to make Lily jealous, you silently desperately prayed. It would’ve been easy if it had been any other week before, but not this week. Not today. And specifically not at this hour, when you were still processing everything.

“Will you…” he continued hesitantly, his fingers playing with a loose thread on one of his gloves, a smile fighting to still be displayed on his lips. “Give me the honor and go with me to the dance?"

You said nothing, only slightly raised your eyebrows in surprise. That depends. You didn’t want to let the fireworks surround you. Skepticism came first, as it always had to.

But your silence seemed to jittered him, and he immediately jumped to explanation. “You know, because we’re best friends, and none of us have a date, and I don't know, I thought it would be fun? To go together. As friends. Casual thing. You know.” He shrugged.

You let out a smile at that, and it seemed to relax him a bit. Why was he so nervous? Of course you’d go with him. You were his best friend, and he was yours, he knew that. “Well, you are not a stranger I don't know or even like.” You joked.

He gave you a grin at that. “No, I’m not. So, you’d go? With me, I mean?”

He was cuter when he was nervous, it wasn’t fair. Why was he nervous again? You’d understand if it was you who were nervous, but why was he?

You couldn’t focus on anything besides the annoyingly loud flutter in your heart—and how hard you are trying to beat and stomp it to death right now. This doesn’t mean anything, it was just a friendly gesture. James was in love with Lily, there was no question, of course.

But you still felt the butterflies on your stomach go wild. You were fighting to contain that smile on your face, scared he’d figure out it wasn’t just any casual thing for you. You were going to the ball with your best friend and you realized there was no else you’d rather go with.

“Of course, James. You’re my best friend!” You smiled up at him, the warmth coming through your gloves from the hot drink was now small compared to the thrill that coursed through your body. “Though do you have a written contract for possible head damage compensation because I might need it.”

He shook his head, a slight relieved laughter came out of his lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me because of it.” You were only teasing, but you thought he looked at you with such sincerity in his eyes that it jarred your senses a bit.

“Yeah, I do.”

───────────────────────

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter #marauders x reader #the marauders #james potter imagine #james potter fic #my writing!#hp #requested #harry potter imagine

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reds-fluff-extravaganza · 7 months

Text

Jax x cat-like!reader

Requested over on ao3! Reader’s digital form is that of a cat with cartoony arms and legs!

No one in the Digital Circus would have guessed that you and Jax would get along, considering you are very cat-like, and cats and rabbits don’t usually get along in nature. However, not with you and Jax, you two got along pretty well since you two are both pranksters, but you two tend to joke and mock each other. The thing is, which is quite unfortunate for Caine and the others, you two occasionally get into little prank wars. Fortunately it never goes too far to where it hurts anyone as you don’t want to actually hurt anyone with your pranks.

Jax had started the first one with the ole bucket of water above the door prank, which you did not appreciate very much, and so began your series of pranks against each other. The others would avoid you two to not get caught in the crossfire, even if your pranks are harmless.

Now you two were in another prank war, which you accidentally started. You didn’t mean to, it just happened! You were just hoping this wasn’t going to last very long, but you weren’t going to just give up, no. No, you wanted him to give up first.

“Jax will not get the better of me.” You would tell yourself as you prepare your next prank. You had to keep an eye out for the smug boy so he wouldn’t ruin your prank. Unfortunately for you, Jax would not be the one on the receiving end of the prank, but rather a very unfortunate Caine who was making sure things were running smoothly and mostly checking on everyone, even if he won’t outright say it.

You were just waiting for Jax to show up, lightly tapping your foot in slight anticipation to what was about to happen, that is, until you heard a familiar voice, not one you were expecting at that moment. Not Jax’s, but Caine’s.

“Y/n! It is always a pleasure to see you!” You went to warn him about your “contraption” but the next thing you knew, the poor ringmaster was covered in glitter.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, Caine..?” You knew he wasn’t very happy.

“Oh (bonk!) kitten, did you end up getting Caine instead of little ole me?” You saw Jax standing in the doorway, trying his best not to (boop!) off.

“I’m sorry, Caine, you weren’t my target! I was trying to get Jax back for earlier!”

“I was wondering what you were up to after that. Saw ya working on something but you wouldn’t let me near it.”

“Yeah, that would ruin the whole thing.”

“Enough!” You two stopped talking and looked over at Caine, who had his arms crossed. “You two are going into… the time out zone!”

“What the (heck) is that?”

“You’ll see in a moment!” And with that, Caine snapped his fingers and both you and Jax were in a room. You took a look around, only to find… it was your room!

“Wait what? This is just my room.” You raised a curious eyebrow before sitting on the bed.

“I can’t believe he put us into time out, over what? A rather funny prank.” Jax crossed his arms and sat beside you

“Yeah, we’re not children.” You shook your head.

“That may be true, kit kat, but I’m not the one who pranked Caine.” Jax looked down at you, a bit of a smug smile on his face.

“That wasn’t my fault nor my intention! I was trying to get back at you!” You gave him a light, playful shove.

“But you’ve gotta admit,” Jax chuckled a bit, “his reaction was priceless! Unfortunately we won’t be able to do that again unless we want to be put into “time out” again.”

“Yeah, that is true.” You lie back, staring up at the ceiling.

“…thanks, Jax.”

“For what?”

“Making my time here more entertaining. If it wasn’t for you and our little pranks, I probably would’ve went a little crazy. I mean, sure, the others are nice, and are fun to be around, but not as much as you.” Jax was actually a bit surprised to hear you say that, but he brushed it off and pats your head.

“Of course, Y/n.”

“Though I think for now… we should call it even and have a truce for now.” You held your hand out to him.

“Fine, fine. Just so we don’t get into trouble with Caine again.” He took your hand into his own and shook it. You then proceeded to pull him down so that he was beside you.

“What are you doing, kitten?”

“Well, while we’re in “time out” we may as well just get comfortable for a bit.”

“You know I have a key to your room, right? So I could get us out of here.”

“Sure, but let’s just stay here for a while, relax, the others have no idea.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Jax shrugged and stared up at the ceiling. “Thanks… for sticking with me, Y/n.”

“It’s no problem, Jax.” You smiled softly and closed your eyes, not falling asleep or anything, just getting comfortable. The two of you ended up spending time together talking, and debating on what kind of shenanigans you’ll get into once you leave the room.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #sfw #jax #tadc jax #jax/reader #jax x reader #tadc jax/reader #tadc jax x reader #x reader #reader insert #fluff #fluff oneshot #x reader oneshot #oneshot #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader

167 notes · View notes

tsukishimasbaby · 4 months

Note

Maybe some Percy Jackson HC’s or Hellva boss

idk

-🍼 anon

Helluva Boss Agere Headcanons!

A/N: This is only part one, and for this part I’m just doing my favorite characters. But I’ll do more characters in separate parts!

Characters: Blitzø, Moxxie, STRIKER!!! (MY FAV 💗💗💗)

BLITZØ-

Flip, with a little lean!! He’s mostly an age regressor, he needs some way to let out all that trauma and stress. His little ages are about 4-6.

He is VERY chaotic when he’s regressed, like even more so than usual. He’ll run around the IMP HQ, jumping on furniture, leaving his toys everywhere, etc.

Moxxie and Millie are his main caregivers, actually! He loves Stolas, even though he’d never admit it, but he doesn’t trust him enough at the moment to tell him something that vulnerable about himself.

When he’s a caregiver, he’s not really a suitable dad caregiver. He’s more like a silly, chaotic older brother or the uncle that’s fresh out of jail.

He likes to spoil littles, he thinks it’s cute when their faces light up and they start giggling.

Thinks it’s super funny to help littles prank their caregivers. He does this even when he himself is regressed too.

Like. Imagine Little!Blitzø hanging out with Moxxie’s and Millie’s little or something. That would be so chaotic pls.

He LOVES coloring, and he hangs his own drawings up himself. He draws horses a lot. He also gives some of the stuff he draws to his friends and caregivers.

MOXXIE-

Controversial opinion, but flip with a cg lean!! He’s responsible enough to be a caregiver, and he wants kids himself one day so this is good practice he thinks. He does regress sometimes in order to relieve some stress.

He does well with littles of all ages, but he finds that baby regressors are surprisingly the easiest! They aren’t hyper and chaotic like a lot of toddler or kid regressors. He just has to feed them, give them attention, make sure their hygiene is good, etc and it’s fine!

He’ll play his guitar and sing little songs! Maybe while Millie dances around and helps tell stories or sings with him or something.

Him and Millie do everything together, which includes taking care of a little, so if you ask Moxxie to be your caregiver, that’s going to include Millie as well.

He’s actually one of the best people to play pretend with, surprisingly enough. Like it takes him a while to get used to it and he’s not too good at making stuff up on the spot, but when he gets into it, he gets INTO IT.

When he’s little, he also still likes to sing and play his guitar.

He reads kids books a lot or those small little science books for kids.

Or books about history for kids.

He is a nerd. And I love that. Me too, Moxxie.

His caregiver is Millie, of course. And he CLINGS to her when he’s regressed, like hardcore clings. Will not let go of her and has to be at least holding her hand at all times.

STRIKER-

Okay I have a feeling this one is gonna be long. He’s my absolute favorite and I love him so so so so so so so so so so much.

I may or may not have the fattest crush on him.

ANYWAYS

Caregiver! He had absolutely no clue what age regression was before you told him about it, and it took him a while for him to warm up to the idea.

Like it took him a fat minute for him to fully process what it is.

He feels bad when he realizes you do it because of trauma, though.

Like…you had a bad childhood??? You were abused??? Do you want him to like…kill your parents for you…?

Cuz he will. You know he will.

You’re like the only person he feels any amount of sympathy for. It may take him awhile to get used to it, but when he does…MAN.

This guy is clingy and overprotective. If he notices you’re slipping at any time throughout the day, you’re immediately being carried or you have to hold his hand TIGHT for the rest of the day. He knows you’re vulnerable, and he knows it’s very dangerous in hell; obviously, it’s hell. And he wants to keep an eye on you at all times.

The first time you called him “dada”, he blushed. Not because of anything weird but because. Wow. You trust him and love him like that? Like…you care about him and see him as your protector? …Woah.

It takes him a bit to get used to parental nicknames, but he likes it nonetheless!

Does pretty much the same with any type of regressors, but because I’m projecting, I’m gonna say he likes the dependency of baby regressors.

He likes being leaned on and trusted and relied on. And when you’re regressed so deep like that, you need help with a lot of things, and he’ll do them for you.

Feels bad because he can’t be around a lot. He’s got an important and demanding job that he’s absolutely not letting a little baby like you witness.

#age regression #agere #helluva boss #helluva boss agere #Blitzø #blitzo x reader #Moxxie #Moxxie x reader #striker #striker x reader

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defectivevillain · 1 month

Text

struck by your lightning, ch3

reader’s pronouns: he/him

summary: You decide to take advantage of the moment’s respite you’re given. “Okay. Hey, how are you?” You look up, only to find yourself staring at Kaminari Denki. The Kaminari Denki—the idol with over thirty million listeners and sold-out concerts across the world. You’re certain that you’re going to fumble your words several times in front of him. (You're a reporter working at the red carpet of a national award gala. You've convinced yourself that you're doing just fine. At least, you're doing fine until you interview Kaminari.)

here’s chapter one and chapter two [you’ll want to read these first, otherwise this won’t make much sense]

this is a chat-hybrid fic and the formatting was mostly made for ao3. it’s a lil wonky here, so here’s the ao3 version if you’d prefer to read that :)

since it's been a while, here's a refresh of what happened in ch1-2: The reader works at DoubleVision agency and is invited to interview artists at an award show. His interview and interaction with Kaminari quickly goes viral—both because of his flustered reaction at the end and the “Love ya”s exchanged at the end. The reader tries not to think too much of it, until he opens his phone to find a message from an unknown number who proves to be Kaminari himself. The two quickly grow to be friends through frequent text conversations. Kaminari reveals that he has your placard for the event and plans for the two of you to meet up together at the nearby coffee shop…

now, onto the story....

Tokyo Entertainment Fix | @tokentfix

Popstar Kaminari Denki Spotted with Reporter from Awards Gala at Coffee Shop!

[ coffee1.jpg ] [ coffee2.jpg ] [ coffee3.jpg ]

89k comments | 486k retweets | 1.8m likes

____________

jj | @dendendenki

ARE Y’ALL SEEING THIS

409 comments | 3k retweets | 18.2k likes

i said what i said. | @ urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki

seeing what

5 comments | 21 retweets | 451 likes

jj | @dendendenki

In response to @ urfavescouldnever

THIS [tokentfix.twt] [newsarticle.link]

61 comments | 1.3k retweets | 8k likes

i said what i said. | @ urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki

I’M SEEING IT NOW HOLY SHIT

4 comments | 808 retweets | 1.6k likes

_______

Direct Message

You: have you seen…?

Kaminari Denki: the news article about us?

You: yeah

Kaminari Denki: ah yeah, i saw it

You: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: WHAT

You: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: no no no

Kaminari Denki: stop that immediately

You: y??

Kaminari Denki: bc it's not ur fault!!!

Kaminari Denki: if anything, i should be the one apologizing

You: why??? you didn’t do anything

Kaminari Denki: NEITHER DID YOU

You: ah damn it i see what you did there

Kaminari Denki: damn right

Kaminari Denki: but srsly, i hope the article isn’t messing anything up for u

You: i was gonna say the same to you

Kaminari Denki: oh pls, this kind of shit happens to me all the time

Kaminari Denki: but seriously, are you doing ok?

You: yep all good

You: it’s just more funny than anything else

Kaminari Denki: is the thought of dating me really so bad :(

You: oh pls, that’s not what i meant

You: i just meant celebrity culture in general… like they’re so obsessed with your relationship status and it’s kinda weird>??

Kaminari Denki: yeah…

You: sigh

You: so glad i’m just a lowly reporter 🙏

Kaminari Denki: hey, don’t jinx it

Kaminari Denki: plus, haven’t you looked on twt recently

Kaminari Denki: fans are shipping us together

Kaminari Denki: pretty sure there are stan accounts dedicated to you now

Kaminari Denki: not that i would know

Kaminari Denki: or follow them

You: fr??

Kaminari Denki: fr fr

You: deadass?

Kaminari Denki: on god

You: i hate us

Kaminari Denki: same

__________

Thankfully, that article about Kaminari and you doesn’t actually change much. You go about business as usual, albeit with a strange sense of guilt prickling along your skin when your mind is unoccupied. You throw yourself into your work and try to bury the emotions, but they are never truly extinguished.

Your conversations with Kaminari are far rarer now, especially as the both of you get even busier. Kaminari is working on releasing his next album and you’re pitching new stories and writing to old acquaintances for features. Even though you throw yourself into work, you still find your thoughts returning to Kaminari. Your relationship with him is currently undefined—your meeting the other day felt like a date, but neither of you acknowledged it. You would love to be more than friends with Kaminari, but you also know that someone as well-known as him doesn’t exactly have the freedom to pursue a relationship and a music career at the same time. Resigned, you slowly push away thoughts of Kaminari until you think you get a good handle on your emotions.

Until everything you try to suppress comes roaring back.

___________

Kaminari Denki | @kaminaridenki

24 hours. [STATIC.jpg]

203k comments | 1.2m retweets | 4m likes

____________

Kaminari Denki to Release New Album Tomorrow

Arts—Music

2 min ago ᐧ By Janet Drews

Kaminari Denki, award-winning musical artist and popular culture icon, recently announced the release of his new album on Twitter. The Tweet earned over four million likes and 200,000 comments. Listeners are clearly looking forward to the occasion, as #KaminariDenki, #STATIC, and #DenkiAlbum top the Twitter Trending page (#1, #2, and #4, respectively).

Some fans speculate the new album will be an ode to the rumored relationship between Kaminari and the DoubleVision reporter who interviewed him at the award gala [interview.mp4]. The interaction between the singer and the reporter quickly went viral following live coverage of the event. Digital citizens across the platform searched for explanations for the exchange, and Kaminari fans such as user @heyheyh3y discussed their red-carpet conversation.

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y okay but is it just me or was there some tension there… [interview.jpg]: A screenshot of Kaminari standing next to you during the interview. 907 comments | 66k retweets | 256k likes

This album will be a bit different from his previously released music, Kaminari said to Vogue Japan mere days ago. The artist made no mention of a significant other who could bear influence on his new music, despite the fact that he was seen with the DoubleVision reporter at EspressoBeanz but a few days ago—a cafè conveniently located near both DoubleVision agency and UA Entertainment. However, other Kaminari fans, like users @electrstatic and @staticshockwave, weren’t convinced:

⚡⚡| @electrstatic y’all are making such a huge deal about this whole reporter business, as if the same thing hasn’t happened time and time again with literally anyone kaminari interacts with 31 comments | 23 retweets | 700 likes electric boogaloo | @staticshockwave In response to @electrstatic THANK YOU. like, when he first got Arata as a manager, everyone was going batshit crazy about how they were dating… and they weren’t. and the way anyone breathing in Kaminari’s direction is assumed to be dating him… it’s crazy 0 comments | 8 retweets | 32 likes

Either way, fans across the world are looking forward to the release of new music from Kaminari. His new album, STATIC, will be released on Apple Music, Spotify, Soundcloud, and assorted digital platforms at 3 p.m. JST (approximately 10 a.m. UTC).

__________

Direct Message

You: heyyy, how are you feeling

You: the album releases tmrw, right?

Kaminari Denki: very nervous

Kaminari Denki: and yes, t minus 20 hrs

You: awesome!

You: and rly? why?

Kaminari Denki: well… i worked hard on it, and i want ppl to like it

You: okay

You: will you be disappointed if your fans don’t like it?

Kaminari Denki: a little, yeah

You: but why do you write music? do you write it for them or for yourself?

Kaminari Denki:

You: sorry, that sounds patronizing…

Kaminari Denki: no, you’re right

Kaminari Denki: i think i needed to hear that

You: i mean, you clearly worked very hard on it. i’m sure everyone listening will recognize that.

Kaminari Denki: i hope so

You: they will 😠 and if they don’t, fuck em

Kaminari Denki: damn right

Kaminari Denki: thanks <3

You: ofc! <3

You: i have to go eat dinner, talk soon?

Kaminari Denki: yep,, enjoy your meal

You: tyyy haha

___________

Direct Message

Kaminari Denki: hypothetically speaking

Sero Brain Cells: ok hello to you too

Sero Brain Cells: also bitch do i look like a scientist

Kaminari Denki: hYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING

Kaminari Denki: does a “<3” mean someone is hopelessly in love with me

Sero Brain Cells: jfc

Kaminari Denki: is that a yes

Sero Brain Cells: ur so fuckin whipped

Kaminari Denki: SHUT UP

Kaminari Denki: I TRUSTED YOU

Kaminari Denki: i came to you in my time of weakness

Kaminari Denki: and this is how you repay me

Sero Brain Cells: dude, you gotta tell him at some point

Kaminari Denki: ik…

Sero Brain Cells: and even if you don’t, he’ll probably figure it out soon

Kaminari Denki: wdym

Sero Brain Cells: ur new album.

Kaminari Denki: what about it?

Sero Brain Cells: half of those songs are so clearly about him

Kaminari Denki: nahhhh no way i kept it hella ambiguous

Sero Brain Cells: ambiguous, huh

Kaminari Denki: shut up

Kaminari Denki: … do you really think he’ll notice

Sero Brain Cells: well, i’m not sure

Sero Brain Cells: you both seem a lil oblivious, so it may be fine

Kaminari Denki: hey 😭

Sero Brain Cells: all love

Sero Brain Cells: but also get ur shit together u raging homo (affectionate, non-derogatory)

Kaminari Denki: oh pls, as if you haven’t been pining for shoto for six business years

Sero Brain Cells: HEY

Sero Brain Cells: …HEY

Sero Brain Cells: HEY 💀

Sero Brain Cells: ik ur stressed rn so i’ll let that slide 🤨

Kaminari Denki: ur right, i’m so anxious

Kaminari Denki: sry for taking it out on u, bro

Sero Brain Cells: it’s ok bro

Sero Brain Cells: wanna get ur ass kicked in mariokart?

Kaminari Denki: do i want to kick ur ass in mariokart? absolutely

Sero Brain Cells: we’ll see about that

Kaminari Denki: damn right we will

___________

Kaminari Denki | @kaminaridenki

fucking godly at mariokart [mariokart.jpg]

19k comments | 97k retweets | 347k likes

Sero | @serofucks

In response to @kaminaridenki

oh fuck all the way off, you had steering assist on

3k comments | 45k retweets | 228k likes

@kamisimpsimp

In response to @serofucks

OOOOP

47 comments | 430 retweets | 1.4k likes

surprised pikachu face | @kamipikakami

In response to @kamisimpsimp

gagged and gooped

31 comments | 338 retweets | 2.3k likes

alex | @kaminarunaronari

In response to @kaminaridenki

what really concerns me is that you main lakitu

2k comments | 134k retweets | 765k likes

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y

In response to @kaminaridenki

here we are, anxiously awaiting the new album, and this mf is playing mariokart

21 comments | 208 retweets | 809 likes

@kamisimpsimp

In response to @heyheyh3y

as one does!

0 comments | 46 retweets | 665 likes

___________

Direct Message

You: heyyyy

You: it’s release dayyyyyy

Kaminari Denki: when you when you when you whennnnnnnnnnnnnnfdshfkdjs

You: :0

You: looking forward to it!

Kaminari Denki: :3

(Nine Hours Later)

Direct Message

You: congratulationsssss!!!!

You: i’ll try to find the time to listen to STATIC soon!!!

Kaminari Denki: thanks :)

___________

Kaminari stares down at his phone, watching as fans discuss the new album. He has the album on shuffle in the background as he tries to brainstorm some choreography. Kaminari has absolute faith in the talented choreographers that he works with—but he just feels like he needs to do something to combat the restless energy surging through him.

The feedback on the album so far has been overwhelmingly positive, yet he’s still nervous—as if he’s still waiting for a reaction from someone. Shaking his head, he tries to focus on the choreography he’s creating. But that plan quickly backfires. Within moments, his phone buzzes—breaking him out of his thoughts. Kaminari freezes and immediately grabs it from his pocket, heart thudding rhythmically in his chest as he unlocks his phone and goes to his messages. There’s a series of texts from you:

You: ok, i have time to listen, now! You: gonna listen as i make dinner!!!

Kaminari sighs, trying to calm his racing heart. He doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. Taking a deep breath, he puts his phone back in his pocket and decides to practice some of the choreography for his other songs. Even amidst the music running through the space and the dance moves that seemed etched onto his very skin, Kaminari still can’t help but think of you.

___________

Meanwhile, you’re just getting home from work. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been looking forward to listening to Kaminari’s new album for a bit now. It’s especially thrilling to think that you can discuss it with him afterward—hell, he even seems to be awaiting your feedback. The thought is exciting and nerve-wracking in equal measures.

You decide to change out of your work clothes before starting dinner, so that you don’t have to worry about staining anything. Then, you grab your Bluetooth speaker and place it on the kitchen counter, before pulling up Kaminari’s newest album and tapping on the first song. Immediately, a beautiful, twisting melody reaches your ears and you swear you feel your shoulders begin to relax. You busy yourself with preparing dinner while his voice fills the space.

Safe to say, the album is incredible. You really like each song you’ve listened to so far—and have found yourself saving each of them to various playlists. Even if you hadn’t spoken with Kaminari throughout the period he was working on the album, you would be able to tell that he put a lot of effort into it. As you expected, that effort shows through in each and every song.

His songs are rather hard-hitting, emotionally speaking. The fifth song, traces of you , makes you freeze in place. You have to rewind to listen to one particular portion of the song again:

…and I stand aside

as you’re washed away

with the ebbing tide

I’m so afraid

of falling out of love

Sometimes I look up

at the blinding black night

and the stars seem to whisper

your name in the air

I feel a shiver roll down my spine

I remember your hand in mine,

and I’m just so afraid.

You don’t know how long you stand at the kitchen counter, letting the lyrics slip into your ears and down your skin. This song is so raw and vulnerable. You feel the sudden urge to close your eyes. For a moment, you can almost trick yourself into thinking Kaminari is singing to you, that these lyrics are meant for you and you alone. It’s a foolish thought, but you can’t quite push it away. You feel your eyes burning with unshed tears as you try to picture Kaminari writing down these lyrics. What was he feeling, in those moments? Were his eyebrows furrowed in concentration? Were his hands stained from the still-drying ink of his pen? Was he tapping his foot along to an unheard, not-yet-created melody?

Something blares loudly, tearing you from your reverie. You blink and look around the room, gasping when you realize you completely neglected the pan on the stove. The pan is smoking and you recognize that insufferable sound to be the fire alarm. You’re quick to turn off the burner. The fire isn’t extinguished. Panicking, you race to one of the kitchen cabinets to grab baking soda. Baking soda, quickly , your mind is practically yelling. You grab the baking soda and haphazardly spread it over the grease fire, relief coursing through you when you see the flames begin to die down. When the fire finally subsides, you look down at your attempt at dinner, only to find a charred pile. You shake your head in disbelief and clean up your mess, before grabbing your phone and skipping to the next song.

You don’t make the mistake of attempting to make dinner as you listen to the rest of the album, which is a rather smart move, because the remaining songs are lyrical masterpieces. There isn’t a single song on the album that you don’t like. A small smile growing on your face, you open your messaging app.

___________

Direct Message

You: i love the new album holy shit

Kaminari Denki: really?

You: yesssss omfg absolutely

Kaminari Denki: akjdfkjfskdjfsdlkf

Kaminari Denki: which track is your favorite? for research purposes

You: research purposes? lol

You: my favorite is definitely traces of you

Kaminari Denki: ah, that’s one of my favorites, too!

Kaminari Denki: and lemme just say: i’m so happy you listened! it means the world to me, so thank you <3

You: no need to thank me—just doing my due diligence as a friend! besides, the new album is incredible!

You: and i promise i’m not just saying that to be nice,,, it’s clear you put a lot of effort into it.

Kaminari Denki: ahhh stawp ur gonna make me all flustered xD

You: hahaha

You: i do have one critique, though

Kaminari Denki: ooooh ok i’m listening 👀

You: traces of you needs to come with a warning

Kaminari Denki: for what? shit how did i miss that

You: “warning: will distract you from cooking dinner and nearly burn your home down”

Kaminari Denki: wait

Kaminari Denki: you did notttttt 💀

You: I DID

You: i was so distracted i forgot i was making dinner

Kaminari Denki: omfgggg that’s insane

Kaminari Denki: i’ve heard a lot of things about my music, but never that it almost burned a house down and ruined dinner 😭

You: lmfaooo

Kaminari Denki: i’m so sorry 😭😭

You: it’s not your fault, holy shit

You: don’t feel guilty!!!! if it makes you feel better, it was completely worth it

Kaminari Denki: hmph

You: i wasn’t rly that hungry anyways

Kaminari Denki: hm hm hm hm hmmmmmm

You: whatttt

Kaminari Denki: nothing i gtg

Kaminari Denki is offline.

You: o….kay? …bye?

___________

You exit out of your messaging app and start rummaging through your pantry for something to eat. Nothing sounds very good right now. You don’t have much food left, either—you’re in desperate need of a trip to the grocery store. You’re sure you can make time to go tomorrow, but as for right now… you’re stuck making do with what you have. Truthfully, you’re tempted to order something—but it’s already getting late and you don’t want to wait even longer for a meal when you’re already hungry.

You walk out into your living room and flop onto the couch, trying to distract yourself from the hunger gnawing at your stomach. Admittedly, your abrupt conversation with Kaminari is weighing heavily on your mind too. You eventually scroll through YouTube mindlessly, if only to keep yourself distracted. You’re not sure how long you sit there before there’s a sudden ringing sound. You frown, wondering if you’re hearing things.

The sound occurs again, and you realize that someone must be ringing your doorbell. Squinting in confusion, you head to your front door and peek through the peephole—surprised to find a familiar blond singer standing on your porch. You quickly unlock your front door and swing it open. “Kaminari?” You ask, convinced you’re seeing things. You hadn’t made plans to hang out today, and you assumed that your conversation died off because he was busy.

“Hey,” Kaminari smiles. He’s wearing a sweatshirt and jeans with a pair of colorful sneakers. His bangs are clipped back and his hair is almost glowing in the dim light of your porch. There’s a sheepish smile on his face that is endlessly endearing. “I heard you missed dinner.” He smiles, holding up a few bags of takeout from a restaurant the two of you had spoken about before.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quickly, hoping that you didn’t make him feel as if he had to provide you with dinner. It wasn’t his fault you were distracted.

“I wanted to,” he says with a smile, dispelling your doubts. “I think I remember your order, but…” He trails off, averting his eyes with an embarrassed expression. “I got a few different things, just in case.”

“I could kiss you,” you breathe relievedly, unaware of the flush that adorns Kaminari’s cheeks as he processes that remark. You motion for him to come in, before locking the front door and showing him to the dining room. You leave him to unbag the food, while you grab plates and utensils. “Do you want anything to drink?” You ask from the kitchen.

“What do you have?” Kaminari asks casually.

“Water, soda, sparkling water…” You trail off, looking through your fridge for anything else you may have laying around.

“Water’s fine,” he smiles. You roll your eyes and grab another glass, filling up waters for you both before returning to the table. Kaminari wasn’t kidding when he said he bought a few different things—as it’s all laid out on your table, it looks as if he bought half the menu. You return to the kitchen and grab the plates and utensils you gathered earlier, before heading back. Unsurprisingly, the pile of food on the table doesn’t get any smaller.

“This is a lot of food,” you remark cautiously. Realistically speaking, there’s no way you’ll be able to finish all of this, and you feel slightly guilty.

“Oh, yeah,” Kaminari nods, “I figured we would have enough for leftovers, and stuff.” You nod in agreement, before busying yourself with making a plate.

“So,” you say, once the two of you are settled in and have begun eating. You didn’t realize just how hungry you were until you took a bite of the food. There’s an inexplicable tension hovering over the air, and you’re unsure if you’re imagining it or not. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Kaminari responds with a nod. “Really good,”

“Good!” You smile, taking another bite. “Are you topping the charts already?”

He smiles bashfully, poking at his food with a fork. “I think so… yeah.” He’s so humble, and you can’t help but think it’s rather admirable.

“That’s so cool,” you remark, “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, I’m happy, too.” He smiles briefly, before looking back down at his food. The happiness in his expression almost seems to flicker for a moment, and the grin on his lips suddenly looks strained. You frown. At first, you want to put that sight down to your imagination; but when the silence stretches on for a while and he doesn’t make a move to continue speaking, you decide to acknowledge it.

“Are you sure?” You blurt out, before you can contemplate the consequences of speaking so freely. Kaminari looks at you in confusion and you grimace. “Sorry. It’s just- You seem a little… off, I guess.”

“I’m good,” he reassures you with a small nod. The gesture is not very convincing.

“Okay,” you say, not wanting to push him further. If there’s something he doesn’t want to talk about, you’re not going to force it out of him. After a few moments, your conversation returns to normal. You still have a lingering suspicion that there’s something weighing on his mind, but you decide to forget about it.

Overall, your dinner is pleasant. You get the chance to ask Kaminari a few questions about the album, and you really enjoy seeing his eyes sparkle as he goes into in-depth explanations of the meanings behind his songs. It feels like you’re seeing a side of him that very few people get to see—but you don’t want to flatter yourself.

Kaminari offers to help you with the dishes when you’re both finished eating, but you quickly refuse and promise him you’ll finish them quickly. You run water over the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher, promising yourself to run it later that night. When you return to the table, you’re surprised to find Kaminari staring ahead with a troubled expression on his face. His hands are clasped on the table and his lips are pulled in a thin line.

Before you can even begin to ask, he’s filling the silence. “You were right,” Kaminari admits. He sounds a little strange—almost as if he’s nervous. You stare at him expectantly. “There is something bothering me.”

The tortured expression on his face is a bit worrying. “Well, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” You feel the need to remind him. While you’re concerned about what could be distressing him, you know that sometimes, it’s too painful to talk about those types of things.

But Kaminari surprises you with his response. “I want to,” he reassures you. You watch as he pushes himself to his feet and stares down at the table, running a finger along the wood. “I’ve just… been trying to figure out how to say it.”

“Take your time,” you say. “I’m not in a rush.” Kaminari nods appreciatively.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to hear, in all honesty. But what he says next feels entirely unreal. “When I first met you, I was attracted to you,” Kaminari chokes out, looking at the ceiling as if nervous to meet your eyes. “I sort of expected it to fizzle, because… well, I didn’t know you all that well. But once we started talking more, I realized that my feelings weren’t going away. While I just knew you as the alluring reporter before, I now knew you as this… this incredible person.” You stare at him in shocked silence.

“You’re so… You’re kind, smart, and passionate. You have a wicked sense of humor and I always look forward to hearing from you. I…

“I’m not sure how familiar you are with me and my career, but… Truthfully, I hit a bit of a rough spot. My last album was a few years ago and I was convinced that I wouldn’t be able to write anything new. But then I met you, and got to know you, and all of a sudden, I was writing all the time.

“Suddenly, I had an entire album—filled with songs that I wrote while thinking about you. And I didn’t know what to do. I had already tried to bury my feelings for you, and it clearly hadn’t worked at all. I assumed you didn’t feel the same as I did. And I’m still not sure, of course.

“But when you sent those messages earlier… I felt something snap in me. It was like, one moment I was staring down at my phone, and the next, I was walking into that restaurant you were talking about.

“And tonight, I’ve been trying to keep it together… But it’s been nearly fucking impossible. I see you across the table and I can’t help but think that this is how I want to spend the rest of my life—sneaking glances at you, and hearing about your day at work…

“Not to mention, the whole Sero thing… It was stupid. But when you said you liked his music, my heart just dropped. I felt like… I don’t know. I felt like I lost you. Even though you weren’t mine to lose.”

“Anyway,” Kaminari says, shaking his head before meeting your eyes. He looks simultaneously more relieved and more nervous than before. “I just had to get that out. And now we can pretend I never said anything.” He shakes his head and fiddles with the strings of his hoodie.

You’re still reeling from everything he just said, but you’re quick to dismiss his assumptions. “What?” You exclaim. “No, Kaminari, I have feelings for you too,” you say. He stares at you with wide eyes. “It’s been so fun getting to know you. You’re just… you’re so bright and energetic, passionate, and good-hearted… I was so nervous when I first met you, because it was my first time ever being on a red carpet… but you made me feel more confident, just by being yourself.”

“And when I got distracted listening to your music earlier… It was because I was thinking of you, and thinking that, somehow, you could be singing just to me. That you could have written that song… just for me. And I know it’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid,” Kaminari interjects, before you can spiral into further self-deprecation. “I just told you, I was thinking of you when I wrote them. All of them.” The lyrics flicker before your eyes at rapid speed, as you remember all the words that felt too vulnerable to ever be yours. You think about how you felt as you were cooking dinner—that tight feeling in your chest as you pretended that everything was fine, as you pretended that you were okay with the idea of Kaminari writing those songs while thinking of someone else. Before you can contemplate your next move, you’re surging forward—and Kaminari is too. Your hands cradle his cheeks as you kiss him, and he tugs you impossibly closer with his hands on your waist. His touch sends pleasant shivers down your spine.

“I guess the fans were right, huh,” you remark with amusement once you break apart.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Kaminari says, his eyes gleaming. He takes a deep breath, his hands still latched on your waist (as if he doesn’t want to let you go). Indecision draws his lips together into a flat line. “Are you sure you want to do this? Being in a relationship with me… It’s going to be different. I- I can’t pretend that I have any privacy whatsoever, or a super accommodating schedule, or-”

“Of course I want to do this,” you immediately say, before he can continue. “More than anything.”

Kaminari’s hands migrate up your shoulders and towards the nape of your neck. He leans closer until your foreheads are touching. “I’m just so afraid.” He whispers, so quietly that you nearly convince yourself you didn’t hear it. (The stars seem to whisper your name in the air… I feel a shiver roll down my spine, I remember your hand in mine, and I’m just so afraid). You pull him into a hug.

“Me too,” you admit in a breath against his shoulder. Kaminari mutters something into your shoulder, but it’s incomprehensible. “Hey, if we can get five and a half million people to watch us stumble through an interview, I think we can do this.” The singer huffs a laugh and pulls back, his hand rising to your cheek and his thumb running across your skin. There’s a smile on his face—one of unmistakable fondness and affection. You lean forward to break the distance between you once more, a euphoric feeling settling in your chest and a smile growing on your face.

endnotes:

i really snuck Seroroki in there, mhwhahaha.

this took so fuckin long to format on here (I had to format it AGAIN despite already devoting time to doing that on ao3), pls show some love if you enjoy it... i'm begging

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat anddd @alex12ander @7heehee7 @the-lurking-await-you since y'all commented on part two

#defectivevillain #male reader #transmasc reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader #mha x male reader #Kaminari x reader #kaminari x male reader #kaminari denki #Kaminari Denki x male reader #kaminari x transmasc reader #I deserve the biggest award for dedicating even MORE time to formatting this on tumblr

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datesinredink · 3 months

Note

Yan turtles (rottmnt) with an m/c that’s allergic to reptiles/turtles? Idk I just think it would be funny (not Donnie trying to get m/c into getting injections to help the allergy-)

ANON I AM SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BCIRBIFUNUIEH

Super duper sorry i ended up procrastinating really hard and i guess god took issue with that because he struck me down with multiple QAs and a Feelings crisis but the tests are over and I finally managed to sit down and finish Raph's part- seriously i struggled with him and mikey a lot but i guess it was kinda worth it in the end because Raph has an entire 110 more words to his part than the other three- hopefully it makes up for my lack of knowledge of his character. Enjoy!

Donnie

“My inspiration for this device was simplicity-”

Yeah you’re getting a hazmat suit until your allergies either magically disappear or he figures out some other solution

You’ll probably have to do a lot of tests, including possibly a blood draw but I’m no medical expert- since I headcanon Leo to be the medic he’ll probably end up helping too

After he finally puts the pieces together, he’ll start working with Leo to engineer a medicine to help suppress your allergic reaction, and maybe even be able to get rid of it entirely

Also anon you’re very right, you may be subjected to becoming the human pincushion of allergy shots while he figures it out. It’s safe. No it won’t kill you. Yes he made sure. Just, uh, maybe don’t ask your best friend their opinion on needles for a while….

In the meantime, he completely hates the current situation. He finally meets someone that he’s (mostly) fine with touching him, and they CAN’T TOUCH HIM without a HAZMAT SUIT. Just the worst. Awful times.

Normally, he’d have you around almost always, but, unfortunately, that’s currently not ideal.

Starts trying to keep things extra clean around the lair for you. Also everything that can be sanitized is sanitized. Good luck in the cleanliness prison after you get kidnapped later on.

The best about keeping distance, since he already wasn't super touchy before this whole situation. While he might tap you on the arm or something once or twice, it's nothing serious and you won't have a problem with him on that front.

Going back to the hazmat suit real quick, while it does do its job well, it's definitely not the most comfortable thing to wear, and you'll probably end up getting too hot pretty quick, so chances are you won't willingly be wearing it all too often. Donnie may occasionally force you to wear it, but otherwise you (usually) just... don't have to.

Leo

He’s the one who finds out you’re allergic. It was an accident he SWEARS. He only wanted to give you a pat on the arm when April first introduced you to them! How could he have known you’d get hives where he touched you?

At least he knows how to treat it. He managed to guide April through treating it, after which he sulked while rereading some Jupiter Jim comics.

Has a personal grudge against your immune system for daring to make you allergic to him. How dare your cells get mad about him.

When Donnie tells him that he might have “a fix, bro”, Leo jumps at the opportunity- oh thank god, he can finally hug you!

…Doesn’t mean he’s not super bad at focusing on actually working on it. Don’t worry, he’ll fix it eventually, just have a little patience.

Honestly, this is your chance to BOOK IT away from them, because none of them are as clingy as they will be after your allergies are cured/suppressed, which gives you more time to leave New York before things go from bad to worse.

Anyway, Leo’s about as clingy as he can be without physically clinging onto you for hours on end. Constantly hanging around you, like a ghost haunting their killer, except you’re not the one who kills people.

He might end up using your allergy to try and manipulate you away from his brothers. Mikey keeps forgetting to keep distance, Donnie’s suffocating and makes you wear a hazmat suit, and Raph almost treats you like a sopping wet cat that he has to take care of, so why not just stay with him?

As much as he likes to criticize Mikey for forgetting, sometimes, particularly early on, he gets a little too close, and your allergies flare up, and while he does genuinely feel kinda bad, he will exaggerate his remorse for sympathy from you. He genuinely does try and apologize for it later, and he probably portals you two somewhere nice and gets you a couple of trinkets you like or find useful.

Mikey

Absolutely heartbroken!

His love is allergic to him! This is awful!

2nd most panicked when they first find out. Is their new friend ok? Did they mess up?

If you have a low tolerance for pain/allergic reaction symptoms and cry a little he probably will too. High empathy, man…

He’s really understanding after everything’s resolved and they figure out you’re allergic to them. He tries his best to keep a fair amount of distance between you and him, but he tends to naturally be physically affectionate, so there may be a slight adjustment period. He really doesn’t mean harm though.

He occasionally tries to bring you something from the mystic city that he thinks would be safe- a small figurine, maybe a sketchbook if you also like doing art, if he manages to bargain for/steal a piece of jewelry, he’ll also give that to you.

As I mentioned before, Mikey’s pretty big on physical touch, but since that’s off limits (for now) he’ll try to show you affection in any other way he can think of

Mostly quality time. He likes to take you with him when he explores through the sewers/city to spraypaint a couple of blank walls, and he’ll probably get you to try it too, and regardless of your skill level he’ll tell you it’s great

After Donnie and Leo finish making the cure, Mikey squeezes the LIFE out of you- he doesn’t mean to practically strangle you, but he’s fairly strong and he got excited, so he does feel a little bad afterwards.

Will decorate the hazmat suit Donnie gave you if you let him. He'll put stickers on it that match his and draw fun patterns that may or may not relate to him in some way. Maybe the spots he has, or the face on his knee pads. It's pretty endearing, even if his brothers may occasionally glare at him. In Mikey's opinion, if they're really that jealous, they should add something themselves.

Raph

And the award for most paranoid goes to….

Ok but really, he’s the most overbearing about it. This probably isn’t a surprise, but it’s still something I've gotta mention.

You don’t really have to worry about Donnie making you wear the hazmat suit- he gets it, not a fun sensory experience- other than a couple stand-out occasions, but you will have to convince Raph fairly often that you’ll be fine without it.

To be fair, it’s partially because he also forgets not to touch you sometimes, and while he’s better about it than Mikey and most of the time Leo, he’s also self-aware and protective enough that he’d rather be safe than sorry.

If you’re having an allergic reaction, he’ll either get Leo/Donnie/April to help you, or go find the hazmat suit Donnie made him a while ago when Splinter got sick and then help you himself

There’s a chance he might not do great though, as he’s not always the best under pressure and tends to panic when the people he loves are hurt or in some sort of extreme situation, especially when it comes to you (seriously, he treats you like a porcelain doll), but you can be reassured that he’ll do his absolute best to make you safe and comfortable.

Feels terrible after, pampers you a lot after the ordeal. Every time, not just the first few.

If he wasn’t the one who caused it, then he’s definitely pissed at whichever of his brothers made your allergies flare up. He won’t kill them, and he won’t lose it and drop kick them into tomorrow (yet. If they ever intentionally trigger your allergies he might snap some bones) but there will be a noticeable irritation and tension for at least the next few weeks between him and them.

He’s super excited after Donnie and Leo finish the allergy shots! I personally headcanon him to be the second touchiest of the brothers (Mikey being the most touchy, of course) so there’ll be a lot more casual touch between you two after. Hugs, headpats, you get the idea. If you try to tell him to stop, he’ll be very upset, though doing his best to understand, he will try to respect your wishes.. Before going right back to it after a week tops. Sometimes he genuinely does forget, after all, he does have a fair amount on his plate, but sometimes he does intentionally wait until he thinks he can get away with it again before jumping right back to how things were before. He’ll vehemently deny it, but no matter what happens, you’ll likely never really get him to stop for an extended period of time.

#yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #augh im so unhappy with raph and mikey's partsss #i shouldve known getting fixated on leo and donnie and forgetting about raph and mikey wouldve come back to bite me #<---- did not plan on writing fanfic when she started watching the show #sorry mikey and raph enjoyers i hope this was satisfactory #anyway i havent like #proofread this.#also none of my friends have ever watched rottmnt so im stuck with no one to check me on my characterization #pray for me

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what-even-is-thiss · 5 months

Text

So I don’t mod video games much or often because I usually play video games because I like the vanilla version and therefore modding is unnecessary.

But I’ve been interested in Beyond Skyrim: Bruma and Beyond Skyrim as a project for a while. I actually considered submitting a voice acting sample to volunteer for them but from what I understand they’ve already got their pick of voice actors so I haven’t bothered.

But anyways a while ago I tried the mod and wasn’t that impressed mostly I think because of the major hiccups my computer struggled with.

Well. I actually sat down and decided to figure it out and downloaded some unofficial patches and turned my video quality way down low and got a wired mouse and that seemed to allow it to actually run at 30 fps instead of being an informative slideshow. So I’ve actually gotten the chance to explore a bit more.

My opinion on the writing is the same. Sometimes dialogue options sound a little too modern. A little too fanfiction. But this whole project essentially is fanfiction so I’m not overly bothered but for a project that claims to want to feel like vanilla Skyrim idk if they quite hit that exactly on the mark.

The guard random filler dialogue is quite good. On par with the quality and stupidness of regular elder scrolls. And if you’ve started the main quest back in Skyrim like I did the Bruma guards might gossip about how a new Dragonborn has shown up in Skyrim. They also seem to have a sick pleasure in punishing criminals which is kinda funny and horrifying at the same time which I really like.

Bruma has been recreated pretty much exactly. If you know your way around in the Oblivion version of Bruma you’ll know your way around here. The ruins of cloud ruler temple are beautiful. The creature reskins to look more like Oblivion creatures are really well done.

Quest design is fine. Dungeons can be confusing at times but I’m also an idiot when it comes to dungeons so yeah

I think that unofficial patches for the mod and the game as a whole are worth downloading.

What I like about the church of Saint Martin is that it seems clear to me that the religion of St. Martin was created specifically to replace Talos after Talos worship was outlawed which is pretty funny. I hope that whenever they finish the project as a whole I can visit Martin in giant stone dragon form and do something extremely rude and/or evil in the vicinity.

I’d like to be able to lick the statue but I don’t think Skyrim has that mechanic

Anyways, fun mod. My opinion of it has gone up since I found a way to run it without my computer catching on fire.

#roman said a thing

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ghcstao3 · 11 months

Note

By God, would it be possible for us to get more of soap and his tinder adventure with ghost.

I beg you from the bottom of my heart to grace the world with more because this is simply the best thing on earth.

Please please please.

(hope it’s still okay i’m using your ask for this haha)

not sure why it took me so long but finally! more of the tinder adventure :) this may go on ao3 later but i haven’t decided yet

tinder roulette

2.9k words

Tinder, in Soap’s opinion, is more of a fun pastime than anything else.

Of course, that isn’t to say he hasn’t used it for its intended purposes—hookups, if anyone is to be honest, it really isn’t a dating app—but it’s long since lost its novelty and has instead become something solely built for Soap’s entertainment.

And Gaz’s, too, apparently.

“I can’t believe how many men on here actually use those stupid fishing pictures on their profiles.”

Gaz has been hoarding Soap’s phone for the better part of an hour, now, liberally swiping left and right on others’ accounts as per routine when neither of them have anything to do. Only this time he’s essentially just been swiping left for a variety of reasons that are mostly beyond Soap.

“I don’t like how he’s holding his phone.”

“Then swipe left,” is usually Soap’s unhelpful and unheeded input.

“Already did,” is what Gaz will say.

Soap sighs as Gaz continues browsing. Normally it’s more fun for Soap than what it’s been that day, but something about the current selection feels… lacklustre. There hasn’t been much of anything funny or fascinating to pique his interest, so Gaz’s say has remained precedent.

It usually does. Just more so today, which Soap is completely fine with—at most he might chat with someone that matches with him (or, again, Gaz might chat with someone under the guise of being John, 28), and otherwise he’ll do absolutely nothing.

Until he hears Gaz suck in a sharp breath beside him. Which could be either a very good or very bad sign.

But by the way Gaz tenses, finger hovering over the screen like he’s afraid he’ll be electrocuted if he does anything, Soap takes it as a very bad thing.

Soap finally looks back at the screen after having been off in his own head for the past fifteen minutes.

At first glance, there isn’t anything that Soap sees that makes him think Gaz’s reaction was warranted. Then, and unfortunately, he starts connecting the different things he’s seeing across the profile—the glaring Simon, 32, the cheesy bio classified underneath it.

And the photos. God, the photos. Soap would hate himself for his immediate recognition coming from a set of bare, scarred and broad shoulders if he didn’t have the excuse of being familiar with the identifiable tattoo that stretches up Simon, 32’s forearm.

Gaz turns to Soap. “You don’t think…?”

“If I’m being honest, Gaz,” Soap says slowly, “I dinnae want to think about this at all.”

Gaz’s thumb inches closer to the screen, and Soap’s heart stops when he sees the hint of a mischievous grin begin to form on his fellow sergeant’s face.

“So then you wouldn’t mind if I…?”

“Gaz,” Soap warns.

“What? It’s probably just an old profile like yours. And besides,” Gaz huffs, and Soap really does not like where this is going, “aren’t you at least a little curious to see what happens? Given your…”

Soap scoffs. “No, because nothing will happen. So hand over my—“

He makes to grab for his phone but is unsuccessful when Gaz, with stupidly lightning reflexes, stretches his arm out of Soap’s reach, and, very much to Soap’s dismay, presses down his thumb and swipes right on their lieutenant’s profile.

“See? What’s the worst that could—oh.”

It’s glaring, that horrible, awful, eyesore of a pop-up that reads It’s a match!

Soap thinks he might die. This is when and where he lays to rest permanently. Because what the fuck?

Gaz winces, sheepishly handing the phone back to Soap. “That is… this is a good thing, innit? Means he likes you back, right? Right?”

Soap doesn’t take it right away, instead shrinking in on himself, desperately scrubbing at his face with the heels of his palms as if it’d erase the last minute of his life. As if it’d erase his entire existence. Because even if they matched—a fact in and of itself that Soap is still having a tough time processing—Soap will eventually have to face Ghost knowing that they had, whether or not the man has checked his own notifications, and that idea alone is mortifying.

Soap is going to kill Gaz.

“This is what I get for not listening to my Mam about goin’ to mass,” Soap groans, plucking the phone from Gaz’s hold. The first picture on Ghost’s profile stares back at him—a goddamn mirror selfie angled in a way that hides his face, but definitely not the definition of his arms thanks to lighting and a muscle tee Soap would have never thought his lieutenant to own—and he doesn’t so much as hesitate to exit out of the notification so he can forget this all happened as soon as possible.

Which would be never, in all honesty, but Soap’s an optimist.

Most days.

“You think I could get a transfer before I have to see him again?”

Gaz quirks an eyebrow. “A transfer by this afternoon? Ain’t gonna happen, mate. Not even the higher-ups could manage that.”

Soap frowns. “This after—what are you talking about?”

Gaz makes an affronted sound. “What am I…? Training, you idiot,” he snaps, smacking Soap upside the head. “You’re on duty with him later. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“‘Course not.” Soap pauses. He tries to smile but all that forms is a grimace. “If I asked you to fill in for me…“

“Absolutely not,” Gaz says. “You’re facing this yourself, mate. Today. And then maybe after you and Ghost can snog, or something.”

Soap jabs his elbow into Gaz’s side. “You act like this isn’t your fault.”

“But it’s a yes to the snogging?”

As much as Soap might like to entertain the thought any other time, he just groans as he stands from the ratty couch kept in the common room with nothing more than the intention to hide away until facing his inevitable doom.

It’s great, the things he’s feeling at the moment. So great.

And of course that feeling stays all throughout what seems like no time at all before Soap is procrastinating his way to training, an extra weight on his shoulders and far too many thoughts swirling around his head that all cease the second he makes eye contact with Ghost.

A pissy Ghost.

“You’re late,” the lieutenant says.

“Sorry, sir,” Soap mutters. He keeps his gaze anywhere but on Ghost. “Got… caught up.”

Ghost grunts. “Right.”

The silence that follows is characteristic on Ghost’s end. Soap, however, can’t bring himself to say anything without the fear of it somehow leading to asking Ghost if he’s been on his phone at all since that morning without reason to justify the question.

But obviously Ghost picks up on his nerves, and given the man’s irritatingly blunt nature, it’s no surprise he’s confronting Soap about it the moment the recruits are busy and out of earshot.

“You tense, sergeant?” Ghost says. Never a question with him; always an accusation.

“No,” Soap lies. He can’t look over to his colleague without that stupid picture appearing in his mind. “Just…”

“Tense?” Ghost repeats.

Soap sighs. Concedes, “Aye. Tense.”

When Ghost says nothing, Soap finally risks a glance at his lieutenant only to be met with Ghost’s own gaze—too intense, too piercing. Soap hadn’t known brown eyes could look so cold until Ghost.

Soap can’t help but feel as if Ghost already knows. Because in all honesty, he probably does, and there had never been any use in trying to maintain what little remains of Soap’s own dignity.

If he had had any to begin with.

Ghost tilts his head. Scrutinizes Soap further with those eternally analytic pupils of his. “And for what reason, sergeant?”

Soap is going to throttle his superior officer. He’s going to wring the man’s neck, get discharged, and never have to worry about this ever again. Because Ghost is taunting him, clearly, and how unfair is that?

“I think you know, sir,” Soap grumbles through grit teeth, because he supposes he may as well face this head-on now as much as he fears the moment it’s said aloud.

But to his surprise, Ghost actually falls back just a bit, shifting his weight between feet in that awkward, stilted way he rarely does.

Like a kid caught with their hand shoved in the cookie jar.

“Well, don’t dwell on it too much, Johnny,” Ghost finally says—the words are quieter, softer this time. “Was an accident.”

Soap curses the crumbling feeling of hope in his chest that maybe, best case scenario, this whole incident would lead to a confession. But of course not—Ghost swiping right on Soap was an accident.

“Ah. Well.” Soap clears his throat, shying away from what’s become a much kinder gaze, “So was—for me too. Gaz had my phone.”

Ghost hums. Some look glasses over his eyes before he turns from Soap and marches away to continue barking orders at the rookies. Soap doesn’t know if it’s any better than having them both linger in a suffocating awkwardness.

An accident. Right. Why did Soap think it could ever be anything else?

The remainder of training is torturous, with the way Ghost doesn’t utter a word to Soap beyond anything work-related, or some professional-opinion bullshit—all the while was an accident rattles around Soap’s head as the day progresses at a snail’s pace.

He can’t decide if it all being an accident makes the situation any better. He can’t decide on a lot of things today.

And clearly, for Ghost, it doesn’t matter either way.

Soap is going to kill someone. He just hasn’t figured out who yet.

“He said it was an accident.”

Gaz hardly looks up from his tray as Soap slumps into a seat across from him. The mess hall is filled with the hushed buzz of chatter, sporadic and spaced out about the room. The open, public environment is the only reason he feels safe enough talking about it—it’s the only place he isn’t concerned about having Ghost suddenly appear in that eerie, ghostlike way of his.

“Told me not to worry about it,” Soap continues, “as if he hadn’t been making me more worried with his weird interrogation.”

“Remind me why you like him like him again,” Gaz mutters before shoving another forkful of food in his mouth. He chews and swallows unreasonably quickly. “Starting to seem like you don’t actually have feelings for him, mate.”

Soap huffs. “Only because it’s obvious the bastard doesnae feel the same. What’s the point, Gaz?”

Gaz stares at him. Blinks once, twice. “I don’t know,” he says. “You tell me.”

Soap groans loudly, sinking low in his seat. He wishes just one person could give him a straight answer to resolve this entire thing. A be-all-end-all solution to put him out of his misery—because even if Ghost says it was an accident, it still happened, and it still means Ghost is active on his own Tinder to some horrifying-to-think-about extent.

And Soap is horrified to think about it. Not to mention terribly conscious of the fact.

“That’s not even the worst part,” Soap grouses. Admits, “I just told him it was a mistake for me too.”

Soap has endured many looks from many people, and he doesn’t think anything compares to the incredulity on Gaz’s face at that moment.

“You know, I felt bad for getting you into this up until you said that,” Gaz tells him. “But hearing that shit is just unbelievable. You hear yourself, right?”

“Every fucking day,” Soap sighs. He buries his face in his hands, shoulders bunched as he grumbles nonsense into his palms. “What do I even do now?”

“Nothing,” Gaz says, then pauses, shrugs his shoulders. “Or tell him the truth. Maybe he also lied.”

Soap frowns, brows furrowing deeply behind the cover of his hands. The idea never occurred to him, because what would be the likelihood of Ghost ever lying about something as trivial as this? Near zero, Soap would think.

But the idea gives him just a piece of that crumbling hope back. And so does the tone of Gaz’s voice that hints he may know more about something than he lets on.

He always seems to. Soap doesn’t know whether or not he should be thankful.

Before he can decide, however, Gaz is continuing with his ever-so-sage counselling, “If you’re going with the latter, you’d better start looking for him now. ‘Cause if he was lying, he will be avoiding you at all costs.”

Soap huffs, finally letting his arms drop back to his sides as he begins to get up. Once standing, he says to Gaz, “I hate that you’re right.”

Gaz snorts. “Usually am.”

Despite his eye roll, Soap does plan on heeding his advice instead of arguing that no, Gaz is definitely not usually right. Because he isn’t. So what if he’s just on the nose today?

Soap sets off on his search.

It takes well over an hour to locate Ghost, after checking all of his usual spots and hiding places several times over, and asking just about everyone he saw if they knew about the lieutenant’s whereabouts.

The answer, of course, is always no idea, but it was worth a shot anyway—only considering he still manages to find Ghost on his own in the end.

Elusive bastard. Soap thinks if the disappearing act is kept up, he might start to be inclined to agree that Gaz was onto something about Ghost’s own dishonesty.

Maybe it’s a little unethical to be confronting him right out of the showers, though.

It’s a surprise Ghost doesn’t appear to be immediately alerted of Soap’s presence with the loud thud of the door swinging shut, his back remaining turned to Soap all the while the sergeant works up the courage to clear his throat.

And maybe admire the planes of his lieutenant’s back just a moment. He’s pulled on everything but a shirt already—even one of his gaiters has made it on before the hoodie that lies in a heap on a bench beside him as he dries his hair.

Again, though, Soap is more focused on the muscles that had him recognizing Ghost in those photos earlier that day.

“Can I help you, Soap?” Ghost grunts. He drops the towel he’d been using for his hair next to the hoodie he shortly pulls over his head—Soap is only allowed a brief glimpse at damp, tousled, blond hair before a hood is obscuring it.

Soap isn’t sure why he thought Ghost hadn’t noticed him enter.

“You lied to me before,” Soap says. He may as well bite the bullet now—to drag this out any longer than a day seems childish, really. He’s old enough to know that, but stupid enough to have let Gaz have access to his phone, and to still have a Tinder account in the first place.

Ghost tenses. His back stays to Soap as he freezes, and just barely Soap is able to make out the sharp intake of breath.

“Thought I told you not to dwell.”

Soap shrugs, though Ghost can’t see it. “You tell me a lot of things, sir.”

Ghost seems to consider this in the minute rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, in the echo of a distant, residual dripping and an overhead fan.

He finally ducks his head, the sound of fabric shifting as he shoves his hands deep into his hoodie pockets. “Maybe I did lie. Maybe I didn’t. S’pose it doesn’t matter either way, does it, Johnny?”

“Why not?” Soap cocks his head. “I mean, Gaz did have my phone, but he had a point about getting my head out of my arse.”

Ghost turns, then, eyes narrowed at Soap with something akin to skepticism. “And what point is that?”

And for what reason, sergeant?

“That I needed to grow a pair and tell you how I feel,” Soap confesses. “To just use this whole thing as an excuse to do that.”

Ghost blinks, those stupidly brown doe eyes of his widening. “Is that what this is?”

Soap chews the inside of his cheek. “If you were lying.” He attempts something playful, but it falls flat. Meek.

There’s still so much distance between them. Too much. And with the way Soap’s heart currently swells with hope, he’s praying that changes soon.

He just has to wait on Ghost.

“I didn’t think anything would happen,” Ghost says.

“Neither did Gaz,” Soap replies. “But I could forgive him.”

“Only if I was lying?”

Soap nods.

“Then you’re a better friend than I’d be, Johnny.”

It’s enough of a confession for Soap. It’s likely the closest thing he’d ever get to one from Ghost.

And that’s alright. Because it’s the best thing to be getting out of what (admittedly) mild fiasco he’d gotten into.

“I’m only so willing because it ended me here,” Soap says. He stalls a moment, almost unashamed in the way he properly looks Ghost over. “And I’d really like to compare those pictures to real life, if I’m honest.”

Ghost huffs. He grabs his towel and slings it over his shoulder before he’s moving toward the exit just behind Soap. Soap’s heart jumps as he gets closer, closing that distance, until Ghost is leaning down to Soap’s ear and murmuring, “I can make that happen.”

The lieutenant teases Soap’s hand, pretending to grab at it but stopping at a mere brush of fingers before he disappears out the door and leaves Soap to stand alone, dumbfounded.

But only for a moment. Because goddamnit if he isn’t immediately trailing Ghost to his quarters after that.

(taglist!! i didn’t forget i swear: @sketchscientist @crazy-phan-girl13 @crazies-unanimous @hanniballecterkinnie @lunainlove @lucibell-writes )

#ask #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing #fanfic #ghost mw2 #soap mw2

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comradekatara · 4 months

Note

sry if u already answered this, but like thoughts on gaang + the girls trying weed for the first time + how they would do it 🙈

the first time suki tries weed she is ten years old. a bunch of the older girls are getting high together, and when none of them are looking she steals their bong. they find her on the bathroom floor hacking up a lung. but once she finally stops coughing she’s like woah this rules…

you may be wondering why i’m listing suki first when i don’t usually do that for these kinds of posts, but since suki is of course the one who introduces every other member of the gaang to weed, it feels only appropriate.

suki gets high with sokka like a week into the start of their relationship. sokka is pretty disappointed tbh. he thought maybe weed would solve all his problems and unlock the secrets to the universe, but in actuality it just made his head hurt. alas

suki then tries to get high with zuko, who flat out refuses. he doesn't like suki, and he's afraid that she can tell (she can) and is in fact trying to poison him. so sokka has to suffer the intolerable Weed Headache all over again so that he can get high with zuko, because he wouldn't feel safe otherwise. "why doesn't he just not get zuko high in the first place?" you may be asking. well it's because suki begged sokka to get zuko high upon her insistence that it would be really funny. and it is.

katara also wants to try weed but suki is like "not until you're older" (she may sound like a massive hypocrite here, but she knows that sokka would kill her if he ever found out that she gave DRUGS to his BABY SISTER!!!!) and even when katara is like "but you're barely older than i am and you've clearly been doing this forever???" suki refuses to budge. eventually, after one million years, katara finally gets to try a hit from suki's special stash, and she's like "yeah, wow, this is good weed. wayyy better than iroh's tbh." to which sokka and suki are both like "excuse me WHAT???!?!?!?!?!"

aang wants in on suki hotboxing the bathroom and is just like "why does it smell like gyatso in here?" to which suki's like "your mentor, the air nomad legend, monk gyatso, was a pothead?" and aang's like "well i don't know about that, but your room smells exactly like the stuff he'd give us to calm us down whenever we got too hyper." at which point suki just shrugs and passes her joint.

iroh is actually the first person to give toph weed. like with that unpleasant katara revelation, suki feels immensely betrayed. so does sokka, for some reason, even though he doesn't even smoke weed. toph thinks it's just fine tbh, but then she discovers that getting azula high is actually the funniest thing ever, and she starts smoking way more, specifically with azula.

azula and toph get high together pretty frequently. sometimes (whenever he catches wind that this is happening) sokka joins them just to chaperone (he's scared of all the damage they might cause with any sort of common sense filter turned all the way off) and also to witness it (it's truly a sight to behold). they mostly just bitch about their terrible families, but their insults are really funny, and they make each other crack up. they have fun together.

suki is really proud of the fact that she's the first person to ever give mai weed. she's like, "wait..... did iroh never...." and mai's just like, "you really think i'd let that old creep push drugs around me?" weed does for mai exactly what sokka had hoped it would. for once in her life she's not hyper vigilant while also being bored out of her mind, but actually kind of chill and happy. sokka is so fucking jealous.

ty lee refuses to try weed, or any kind of mind-altering substances whatsoever. she won't even drink a single glass of wine at dinner. she's convinced that the moment she lets her guard down someone will finally find one of her weaknesses (a real one, not just the ones she advertises on purpose to deflect from her true vulnerabilities) and exploit it. suki, on the other hand, doesn't understand how someone so hot and cool could also be so straightedge. she's constantly trying to get mai to convince ty lee to try weed, but mai is just like, "sorry but this is just how she is, there's no changing her." eventually, years down the line, ty lee is finally sufficiently worn down and agrees to try weed once with suki and mai, but that they must first shut all the doors and close the blinds and promise to never let her out of their sight. it goes...fine? she's never tempted to try it again, but at least now she knows, and that's that.

bonus: no one knows this, but it wasn't actually gyatso who gave aang his first joint. it was bumi.

#la-jura #asks #the gaang and #suki #im pretty sure i have actually talked about this before tbh #multiple times in fact #but whatever. always a good topic to revisit #also fyi. jet was probably PLANNING on giving katara weed but never got around to it #alas

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paradoxlemonade · 5 months

Text

Mirror Mirror

Fandom: Double Life SMP

Dynamic: Etho & Joel

words: 1313

Warnings: body image issues, insecurity

Ao3: Here!

Summary: Etho doesn't like how he looks. Joel does not know this. Hurt/comfort ensues. (This is my @mcytblrholidayexchange present for @kyleknight! I hope you enjoy ^^)

— — — — —

Joel likes to think he’s a pretty funny guy in his own humble opinion, thank you very much. People laugh when he starts cracking jokes, and those that don’t are probably just peeved that they’re the subject of his mockery—after all, when there’s a punchline, someone has to be the one to get decked. It’s all in good fun!

It’s… disconcerting when someone who’s supposed to be in on the joke isn’t smiling along with it.

And it’s not like Etho’s even the one on the receiving end! The whole point of the thing is how they—as soulmates—can ruin everyone else’s thumbnails together!

It’s a bit of Etho’s that Joel has always found fun as long as he’s known about it: hiding another layer of visual data in his player code only visible upon lookup is a fantastic prank for messing with one’s friends, since it’ll only show up when they pull his image to build the thumbnail. Etho himself, who doesn’t bother with that sort of menial technicality and just whips out a camera from his back pocket when he spies a good thumbnail, is immune. And sure, sure, Joel doesn’t actually know how to replicate the effect and just went for a plain t-shirt with the face painted on in crooked lines, but it was still funny and would show up on the lookups (And Etho’s pictures, but that’s what hiding the shirt with armor is for).

Joel was grinning like mad as he showed off the creation, hands waving and detailing the concept. Etho gave an affirmation, but he hadn’t seemed particularly enthused with the concept; the mask hiding his face stretched with a smile even as his eyes skittered to the side and hid under knit brows.

So. Joel tries not to let it bother him and simply enjoy the thought of his friends being annoyed with him.

He picks at the hem of the t-shirt as he paces about the Boat Boys (not Small Etho!) base area. The day passes as usual: chaos reigns, problems are caused (all on purpose if asked, mostly on purpose in actuality), and Joel enjoys Etho’s company. Really, the man is a delight—Joel knew of him more than he knew him personally before the latest season, but every new interaction reveals something new about Etho that he didn’t know, and Joel’s actions and mannerisms in turn to him.

Everything seems fine, until. Until, until, until.

Etho removes the secret layer. Joel finds out about it in between sessions and tries (fails) not to take it personally.

It… stings.

The start of the next session and Joel’s ire do not roll in like thunder, but instead stumble in on unsure legs like a fawn. Sure, he’s irritated (and a little offended, and a little hurt), but it’s Etho. So Joel leans on the edge of The Relation Ship and drinks in the sight of the server.

A creaking floorboard from behind him and a gentle wheeze of breath belies Etho’s awaited arrival.

Without turning around, Joel begins, “I see that you’ve changed your skin?” It’s light as he can manage with a slight chuckle of incredulity, but from the tightness in his jaw, it does little to masquerade much of anything.

“I did, yes—”

“You took the face off? Was it because I—”

“Yeah.”

Joel huffs. “Wow, brilliant.” He pushes off and turns in a single motion, and—

Freezes.

…Any plans Joel has for a polite (but frigid, but pointed, but sardonic) questioning evaporate once he gets a look at Etho’s face.

He looks tired, bags like smudges of coal languishing, shifting with every blink. Every step is upheld with an air of casual nonchalance, but the slight tremble in his fingers betrays him. His pale hair is dull and falls over his scarred eye.

“...You look like a wreck.”

Etho scowls for a bare moment but beats it down to a practiced neutrality. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Joel snorts. “Considering that I hadn’t asked but you tried to deflect anyways, say that I don’t particularly believe you.” He grabs Etho by the wrist and slides past, leading him down to their chests. “Did you sleep at all between now and the last session? Because your eyebags have eyebags. Bet we could fit a whole stack of items in there.” Before Etho can respond, Joel pops the lock on a chest and picks out a loaf of bread. He drops it into Etho’s hands with a nod of finality.

“I slept just fine. And I ate too, if that’s what you’re getting at by this.” He gestures helplessly with the bread. “I told you, I’m fine.”

Joel shrugs. “And I said I didn’t believe you. I can play this game all day, especially since your face isn’t helping your argument.”

Etho scowls again. “Stop saying that.”

“Saying what? That you look like you’ve been fighting phantoms? And losing?”

“Joel, please…” His shoulders are drawn in close and his grip on the bread grows tighter, more desperate.

Joel falters.

“Are you… okay?”

Etho makes a face and stalks back onto the ship. “You don’t need to rub it in, you know.”

Joel trails behind him, his sense of assurance drying up. “You’re gonna need to be a little more specific than that, mate. Rub what in?”

He laughs. Laughs. Something dry, something quiet, something brittle. Etho keeps his gaze trained on the bread crust he picks at aimlessly. “I know I’m nothing nice to look at. I’ve known that basically forever. So you don’t need to rub it in; I already know.”

Joel blinks. He stops following Etho’s pacing and stands in place. What does he say to that? “You’re kidding, right?”

Mm. Probably not that.

Etho gives him an unimpressed look. “Why would I be kidding about this? You’ve been saying it yourself all morning.”

Wait, he thought that… and then Joel…

Oh, goddammit.

Joel rubs a hand across his face letting it trail up to drag through his hair. “You look tired, man, not ugly. You’re not a supermodel—so what? Neither am I. And neither is anyone else that we hang out with. You’re in pretty good company.” His feet finally unstick from the floor and he manages to scoot next to Etho, their shoulders brushing. “You’ve been thinking about this the entire break, haven’t you?”

Etho shrugs, as if it hides the way his shoulders droop with the weight of his thoughts. “I don’t… I try not to think about my face too much. Not ever since”—he waves his free hand at the long, ropy line bisecting his face—“that. No mirrors in any of my builds or anything. I guess your silly t-shirt just reminded me that everyone else is looking at me when I talk to them.”

Joel kinda feels bad for taking that personally, now.

He shakes his head. “If you told me what was up, I would’ve ditched the shirt. Here, like this.” He reaches up with one hand and yanks it off by the neckline, tossing it across the ship in the same motion. It hits the wall and slides to the floor in a crumpled heap. “There, now it’s gone.”

Etho takes a minute to gather his thoughts. After a pause, his eyes trail over to meet Joel’s. “Thanks.”

Joel leans over and bumps him, never breaking eye contact. “Bothering people is fun. Hurting them isn’t.”

The moment passes, and Etho turns his attention back to the bread. He slides his mask down and takes a hesitant bite.

— — — — —

Joel leans back and kicks a foot over his leg. “Besides, I can still think of, like, at least three different people who would throw themselves at you in a heartbeat if they thought they had a chance of getting you into bed with them.”

Etho chokes on a mouthful of bread.

#double life smp #trafficblr #life smp #boat boys #ethoslab #smallishbeans #joel smallishbeans #double life fanfic #mcyt #idea writes #idea original post

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chastiefoul · 2 years

Text

cozy sleepless night. | genshin impact

featuring: diluc, xiao, itto, and zhongli

modern au – calling them in the middle of the night cause you couldn’t sleep. (relationship not yet established; mutual feelings for each other)

Diluc

He had been awake when you called. He thought it was Kaeya and was prepared to be mad at him for calling so late until he saw your name as the caller.

“Hello?” Diluc sounded a little unsure, you never called him this late. He’s worried that something happened. “Hi Diluc,” you said softly, and the red-haired man could just feel a little part of him melting away hearing you over the phone. “What’s wrong, you don’t usually call this late, did something happen?” He asked.

“Not really, I just can’t really sleep, am I bothering you?” You hugged a pillow close to your chest, suddenly feeling nervous that you just disturbed him on midnight. Diluc who’s just been up reading a book on his desk only chuckled a little. “Not at all, would you like to talk about something? It might get you sleepy.” Your cheeks grow warm.

“Okay.”

Xiao

He groaned as a response to the call.

“Oh sorry Xiao were you asleep?” You asked, feeling guilty. “Well not anymore,” he said groggily. When you don’t respond he continued, “Do you need something?” His tone wasn’t the gentlest when he said that causing to only let out a little, “Not really.. I just couldn’t sleep, sorry for waking you up I’ll hang up now.”

“Wait. Sorry, I’m fully awake now. Do you need something?” He rubbed his eyes, blinking them a few times chasing the heaviness away. “Not really, I just wanted to hear your voice.” Xiao was caught off guard, his chest skipped a beat. He coughed a little, “The embarrassing things that came out of your mouth sometimes..” At this, you giggled softly—which sounded like a lovely tune the male thought—succeeding in making the usually stoic man flustered. He gained his composure and said,

“Well? Talk then, I’d like to hear your voice too.”

Zhongli

“Hello?” His low, rasp, and buttery voice filled your dimmed room’s silence. How does one man does so much with just his voice?? “Hi Zhongli, were you asleep? You sound wide awake,” you replied with a small voice. “Well, I am usually still up and about at this hour, do you need something perhaps?” He said gently, “No.. I just can’t sleep, and I thought about calling you to see if maybe you’re up to just, talk?” You trailed off, realizing now this was probably a bad idea.

Zhongli was quiet for a second, and you were prepared to just throw your phone until you heard, “Of course, would you like to me to tell you the story of a land called Teyvat?” You smiled a little, the name sounded slightly familiar. “Sure.” You closed your eyes, the sound of his voice lulled you into a nice sleep. As Zhongli went on and realizing the sound of your steady breath was the only thing left on the phone call, he tugged a smile his chest filled with a pleasant warmth.

Itto

Clearly a heavy sleeper, didn’t pick up the phone on the said night, but regretted the way he had slept early when he saw the notification of a missed call from you. Called you the first thing in the morning, waking you up. “Hello?” You sleepily said, for a second there Itto lost his train of thought, thinking how adorable your morning voice was.

“O-oh hi! Sorry for calling so early on the morning, I saw your miss call last night are you okay?” He said worriedly. “Oh, I’m fine don’t worry! It’s just I couldn’t really sleep last night and I wanted to see if you were still awake to talk or something..” With each word your voice got smaller, embarrassed. Itto almost wanted to smack himself in the face for missing such a chance. “My bad!! I’m such a heavy sleeper so I didn’t really hear anything,” Itto frowned, mostly at himself, as he think about that one funny video of someone with an alarm clock that literally will hit you in the face to wake you up.

“It’s totally okay!! I’m just glad now I didn’t disturb your sleep,” you chuckled. “But!! Promise me you’ll call me again if you can’t sleep!! I’ll try to be awake until late at night just incase,” he said energetically. “What if I just call you on regular hour, would that be okay..?” You offered, he’s quiet for a moment basking in happiness.

“More than okay!!!!” Itto grinned.

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johnsgunbelt · 5 months

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Just found your blog and saw the ask post.

So here I am, asking for some smutty Smut-Smut for my darling husband Simon. 😛😛

A very confident and outspoken fem!reader meets Lieutenant Simon 'stares at you like he's gonna eat you alive' Riley.

So I was thinking maybe she works for Laswell and starts working for TF141. A certain tall, blonde and broody lieutenant takes a liking for her, thinks day and night about how he's gonna make her his, how he's gonna ruin her for other men but he's also a bit reserved thinking she isn't into him.

Turns out she's very much into him and makes a first move, but as we all know Riley isn't one to shy away from a good opportunity.

He shows her who exactly own her and her sweet little pussy.

😍😍😍😍

Office - Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem! Outspoken/confident reader

Warnings: Smut, P in V no condom, Dirty talk, Degradation?, Breeding kink !! MDNI

Now don’t get me wrong I love my job but when I met 141, for the first time I think that’s when I actually reconsidered my position.

Laswell put me into the 141 around 2 weeks ago and my god do I regret saying yes to this position. Yeah maybe it came with my own office but it also came with recruits hitting on me 24/7 365.

“I think someone must have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes.” Was one of the MANY pickup lines I've heard this week. I respond the same to every single one though, “Hm, you Google that on your way over here?” And usually, that shuts them up so I can walk away back to my office.

But there is 1 man who I’m intrigued about.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, is a 6’4 broad man with a ghost mask. He seems to never take that damn thing off and I can’t help but wonder what he looks like under there. We have small talk from time to time, mostly he stops by my office and asks how my day is going or how he should punish the three recruits that hit on me that day.

“Hey, you payin’ attention?” I was quickly snapped out of my thoughts by his low voice. “Huh-Oh yeah sorry just thinking..What were we talking about?” I responded as nonchalantly as I could so he wouldn’t question what exactly had my thoughts all over the place.

“Right..Anyway, we were talking about the recruit? He hit on you on your way in here…Again.” He was looking me in the eyes as he sat across from my desk on a chair and I looked back at him directly in his eyes..I wonder what he's thinking about.

“Listen I told you it’s fine there hasn’t got to be any disciplinary actions taken against him. He does this every week. Let's just leave it at that, yeah?” I spoke softly but affirmatively and he nodded at me and started to head for the door but then I stopped him.

“Hey, Ghost can I ask you-” “Simon. Call me Simon and yeah go ahead.” He interrupted my sentence shortly after I spoke “Don’t interrupt me next time, thank you. I was gonna say why the mask?”

“Oh? To hide my face.” He responded. I rolled my eyes at him standing up and walking in front of him as I raised my head to look him in his eyes.

“Well duh...I’m asking if you ever take it off?” I lifted my hands to cup his face in a way to take off his mask as he broke eye contact and moved my hands as he raised his own hands to his mask. “Never thought you’d try n make a first move on me love.” He then finally pulled his mask off and I saw his face. I admired every inch of him.

“Wow…You really aren’t ugly.” I joked at him as I stood on my tippy toes to cup his face and run my fingers along all the scars. “Haha, very funny.” He then inched his face closer to mine. I couldn’t hold back anymore and just kissed him passionately. He returned the kiss not even a minute after as he basically forced his tongue into my mouth he backed me up into my own desk and I hopped on top of it.

“Aren’t you an eager little one?” He pulled away from the kiss to press his forehead against mine and look me directly in the eye as we caught our breath. “Can’t you just be quiet and fuck me already..?” I pressed my lips back against his as he cupped my ass while his other hand trailed into my jeans finding my already-soaked cunt. “Calm down my little slut, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already soaked for me.” He spoke in between kisses as he toyed with my clothed clit dragging his fingers lightly up and down just grazing over all the right places. I moaned lightly at his touches as he smirked directly into another kiss he gave me.

“Simon…Please..” I can’t take him anymore, just lightly touching me isn’t enough doesn’t he know that? And then I saw that stupid smirk on his beautiful dumb face. “Shh sweetheart be patient..” He whispered and giggled at me, almost mocking me in a way. I rocked my hips looking for any kind of friction I could get but I got little to nothing.

“Stay still f’me.” He almost growled at me as he pinned my hips down with his hand that wasn’t currently in my pants. And that exact moment, I got a good look at him. His blonde short hair his little stubble on his face and his deep brown eyes I could almost get lost in.

“You just gonna stare at me, pretty girl?” He looked directly at me as he finally ripped my pants off of me along with my panties before I could even respond he bent me over my desk. “SimonSimonSimon…” I had nothing else to say but his name. I was acting so pathetic.

“Mhm, I haven’t even shoved a finger in you and you’re moaning my name. Honestly Love I didn’t even think you were into me.” He said to me as he shoved a finger into my tight hole. “Simon…Be gentle please.” He shot me a look shortly after I said that in between pants

He didn’t listen, in fact, he did the exact opposite and shoved two more fingers stretching my tight hole out. “You can take it, I know you can, you're my strong girl.” He gritted through his teeth as I felt the tent in his pants rub against my thigh. I knew exactly what to say. “Mmm Simon gimme it, please. I promise I can take it please..!”

“Yeah, sweetheart? Really?” He sounded like he doubted me. “Mhm mhm! I promise, please.” I kept begging him until eventually, he gave in as I heard his cargos unzip and him pulling off his boxers as he spat on his hand and rubbed it on me as a make-shift lube.

“Brace yourself, baby.” As he lined himself up to my entrance and shoved himself inch by inch I winced and whined but he let me adjust. “Jesus-You’re so big mmph..” I whined as I adjusted and he started to pull on my hair just enough so my head was thrown back as his other hand held my waist as he thrusts in and out slowly.

“Yeah? I am gonna ruin this little cunt and make it mine f’me and only me, you want that don’t you?” His question actually had me flustered but I was so cock-drunk all I could do was nod my head yes for him. And then I felt that knot in my stomach and I knew I was close.

“Simon m’close..!” He sped up his thrusts “M’gonna cum in you sweetheart gonna fill up this sweet pussy.” He said that to me as we both became undone at the same time as my walls clenched around his throbbing cock.

I shortly after could barely walk so I fell over onto the small sofa in the corner of my office Simon covered me in a blanket he knelt next to me and placed a small kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be back to get you later, yeah?” I just nodded at him and shut my eyes for some rest as he walked out of my office and shut the door behind him. He noticed Gaz about to walk in.

“I wouldn’t go in there quite yet mate, she's swamped with work.” Gaz looked at him confused but just walked away as Simon followed after him. Nobody could see you in such a vulnerable state besides him. He’d make sure of it, You’re his now.

OMGGGGG THIS TOOK ME 2 DAYS HELP.

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anzynai · 3 months

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Ah!! I just saw your Housewarden tickle HCs and I was wondering if I could add to that person’s request and ask for vice house wardens (+ Ruggie and Ortho) tickle HCs if you can? Thanks in advance! 💖💖💖

Vice Housewardens Hcs

a/n: as the ask said, ortho and ruggie aren’t housewardens but that’s fine! sometimes i forget that fact too UHHH also there probably won’t (or i’m not really sure) be as many headcanons as the housewarden one but we shall see. this is a super late ask but i hope u like these heascanons anyway.. i mean, at least i got them out haha but as always, enjoy!

——

Trey

so i think that he would be a 7? LIKE some spots he will be like “😊” (the smile is out of pity) and some he will be like 😂😂 (laughing his head off)

ITS PRETTY HARD TO GET HIM TO THAT POINT THO because his worst spots are his back and his thighs, which aren’t always so easily accessible?

but if someone happened to just,, trace a finger down his back while he’s doing something, he will jump and flail and produce the silliest noise you will ever hear in your life

he’s the type to be shy-embarrassed about his ticklishness. like he wouldn’t want to be known for it, but at the end of the day, he doesn’t mind it too much, yk?

he’s really strong so it’s difficult to pin him so it’s probably not even worth trying. it doesn’t matter though, because he’ll usually let you tickle him anyway. (at least if he can get you back)

when he gets you back, he has this wholesome smile on his face and you can’t help feeling embarrassed. he’s super gentle and does it to try and make you happy.

he’s done it to riddle though when he feels like the redhead hasn’t been smiling enough, yk?? like he loves cheer up tickles and while it mostly happens to riddle, he’s done it to others too.

he would also be the type to use it as a sort of motivation. “every question that you get wrong is ten seconds of tickling. how is that?”

Ruggie

ergggg tickles with this guy,, they were always a pretty big thing with him! growing up, his family always would tickle eachother (meaning ofc he was involved as well) and as of late, tickling between leona and him has been becoming more and more frequent (to leona’s disdain)

he’s definitely like an 8, leaning a bit towards a 9? idk he’s pretty ticklish.

his worst spots.. his sides AND his tail. most people learn he’s ticklish if they try to pet his tail, so he doesn’t let people, unless he really trusts them (such as yuu). only leona knows his sides r ticklish cuz he tickles ruggie if he wants him to stop bothering him. rook knows about his tail if you’ve seen that one scene 😊😊

he enjoys being tickled and can usually last for a while, but he doesn’t like when it’s so intense.

if ruggie had an s/o, i think he would be the type to like,, nibble on their neck to make them giggle yk??

not really anyone KNOWS about his sensitivity (apart from his fam) but leona and rook. leona found out one time cuz ruggie kept pestering him and he pushed him away in his side and was very shocked by the very loud squeal that ruggie let out.

i think that he’s not necessarily embarrassed about his sensitivity but also like, not for any real reason. he just doesn’t think about tickling all that much. like, it’s completely normal to him. so it’s not like he’s all for it but he’s just pretty neutral about it (if that makes sense)

that being said, that is regarding his OWN sensitivity. for others, while he doesn’t do it often, he looooves tickling others

he gets teasy w it too!!! “you’re so ticklish, it’s so funny!!” all that stuff yk?

he is for sure the type to use tickling to “exploit” people into doing what he wants them to do. obviously, nothing super bad but if he REALLY wants something and u happen to be ticklish? well, yk what that means.

he has a sneaky, gentle touch? like hes strangely good at finding the spots that makes someone tick. comes from experience LOL

Jade

to be honest, among the three, i kinda see him as the least ticklish. now that doesn’t mean hes NOT ticklish, i mean, its AZUL and FLOYD im talking abt?? so yeah, id say hes like.. a 6, leaning towards 7!

AHHHH deep breathy laugh ftw!! most spots that ppl get him elicit this kinda laughter which is like literally to die for. like, its just so…

ofc, this required training(?) on jade’s part because he wanted to maintain his persona of being the calmer twin because floyd’s got the complete opposite laugh (cackly and loud)

STILL, it doesnt mean he never breaks! tbh, he doesnt necessarily hide his ticklishness, but as someone who would prefer to be the one in power, he doesn’t bring it up either. sometimes, when the ler finds a really good spot (his armpits or i imagine the area JUST below his ears, like just at the top of his neck is ridiculously sensitive), its a lot harder to keep himself from squawking lol

kinda circling back to my last headcanon, i think its super funny how jade could definitely manipulate YOU into thinking hes still the one in power while being wrecked to pieces hehe

like idk how he manages it, but he can make you think that hes just indulging and that he could get out anytime he wants. not that this isnt true, but he would definitely struggle more than he lets on. especially if its floyd or azul (or both) who happen to tickle him

like vil from my last post, i think he would be good at keeping himself still for the most part.

no one really gets near him, ESPECIALLY to tickle him except for floyd and azul (and yuu/reader(??) if youd like) so he doesnt get tickled often, especially when he tends to get to the upper hand with them from the get-go.

still, he doesn’t mind this dynamic. he prefers to be the ler than the lee.

on the other hand, as a ler, hes not so bad when hes teaming with someone (usually floyd) like most of the time, he will let the other tickle the person more while he holds onto their arms or something

but alone? ABSOLUTE menace. he knows just the right things to say to make you as flustered and right where he wants you. he knows just the spots he needs to touch to have you squealing. and the worst part of it, is that he will keep it stored in his brain for later use.

like going further with that, im saying if youve got a sensitive neck, he WILL be swiping his finger across his neck and then gaslight you and everyone else into thinking it had never happened in the first place. and if you lose ur sanity over it, thats just part of the fun in his eyes.

hes very attentive when it comes to ensuring the ler doesnt like, completely die. hes actually really good at telling when a ler is about to reach their limit and will stop when he realizes that. hes saved a few from floyd’s wrath because of this.

generally gentle tickles when he first begins, but he can change his style depending on which works better on the lee, compared to others, who often have a pretty distinct tickling style

Jamil

people tend to overlook this because kalim is like super ticklish, but jamil is actually very ticklish as well and he hates it. id say hes about a 7, actually.

tbh i think he would be the type to think of it as a weakness😞😞 like its not necessarily the sensation that he dislikes, but moreso the fact that it makes it much harder to fight back

he seems like he would have a ticklish back im not even gonna lie AND HEAR ME OUT. like his muscles just right below his armpits (blanking on the name rn) so he would never let anyone touch his muscles because it tickles

also think he would have a ticklish collarbone but people arent really aware of that so hes safe? (only for now ofc)

he would be the type to try to hide his face. like maybe stuffing his face into a pillow, into his shirt, etc. he is shy about people seeing his blushing face which is so cuteeee

i feel like kalim would try to tickle him all the time. “its what friends do!” “you look so glum.. let me cheer you up!” “i know a way to take a break from all this studying!” it offers a pretty good distraction tbh

i think yk when ppl lightly tickle ur arm and it tickles but not enough to make u laugh? i feel like jamil would secretly find it comforting

as a ler, he would be suuuuper teasy. im talking like “how embarrassing for you to be this ticklish, huh?” or even worse if the lee cant say “tickle” he will be like “cant even say the word? you must be more ticklish than i thought.”

i feel like he would be one of those ppl who is intimidating yet gentle at the same time. he doesnt want to hurt you obviously but he wants to make sure you feel everything that he is doing to u

like jade, hes pretty good at sensing when the ofher cant take it for much longer so he always stops before they reach that point

he usually tickles kalim, because he feels its too awkward to even try tickling someone else (unless they tickle him first, them its war)

azujami again sorry: jamil likes poking him in the side at random times to hear him gasp and blush because he finds joy in breaking azul’s business persona LOL he relishes in the glare that azul sends him afterwards

Rook

im gonna be so fr. i lowkey see him as not ticklish, except for ONE SPOT. so ill say 1.

that one spot? his SPINE like running a finger down his spine will have him shiver, gasping, and giggljng. hes really ticklish there, but no one has tickled him there since his arrival to NRC so to everyone, he may as well be not ticklish at all.

one time, vil poked him on his back and when vil noticed his reaction, he thought he was busted. still, vil seemed to brush it off after rook started spilling out nonsense.

because of his lack of sensitivity, he doesnt hesitate to tickle others because he knows he doesnt have to worry about retaliation

in fact, he loves when they try and he just laughs at them and tickles them to pieces

that being said, sometimes he wishes he was ticklish because he really loves seeing people laugh and have fun and let their walls down and he kinda wants that too?? but he doesnt always feel like that, he just cant help being a bit envious at times

since hes literally a canon ler, i think its safe to say that he tickles people when he feels they arent smiling enough. whether its jusy because theyre spaced out, or are sad, or just dont happen to be smiling, the reasons matter not. he will get them.

going off of that, cheer up tickles are a big thing with him. especially with epel and sometimes with vil, though vil usually pushes him off after about a minute talking about how “childish” tickling is and all that. but he notices how it makws them feel more relaxed so he never takes either of them seriously

his tickling depends on the ler. he likes to experiment. he noticed that for people like jack and epel, rougher tickles work best. as for vil and ruggie, gentle tickling is better.

kinda (???) unintentionally teasy. of course, he knows what teasing is. but, he’s just a very blunt person (though not everyone understands he is because of the way he says things) but he will talk about how beautiful they look and fluster the other

of course, he knows how to tease and uses it sometimes when he wants to see the other all red and flushed when regular compliments dont work, but he tends to just be blunt because that yields the same results oftentimes

all in all, he loooooves tickling and tries to tickle people a lot (which to some, makes him come off as a weirdo, but that has never stopped him).

Ortho

so i might be wrong but im pretty sure hes actually canonically ticklish, which is think is so cute

and then if u think abt it, idia must have done that on purpose. anyways, i give him a 5. hes sensitive in some places and not in others. (thatd be a LOT of work for idia)

i think it would be like.. in the crevices of his body that get him. like just below his neck, especially

he doesnt really mind his sensitivity! in fact, he finds it pretty fun and he thinks of tickling as a bonding activity hehe

he got more ticklish once he owned like a soul/heart, idk how it works but it does

he loves tickling people! especially his brother. sometimes when idia doesnt get out of bed or is being too snarky, he tickles him

or sometimes i would imagine ortho uses tickling as a way to help people out of their comfort zones. not even just for idia, but like when people are awkward around each other and whatnot, he might be like “i think we should have a tickle fight!” the funny thing is that it actually works

hes the type of teaser thats not really aware they are teasing like “are you having fun!!?” “you’re smiling and giggling a lot!” “you seem so happy, do you like this?”

hes kinda gentle?? i mean as gentle as a robot could be. could u imagine how funny it would be if ortho started off as being too rough when tickling so he has like feathers on him at all times (in some kind of compartment) when he thinks he might be hurting the other.. however, he doesnt need to use them much because he has gotten a lot better

like can tell ur heartrate and when ur at ur limit or getting close, never goes too far basically

is about half and half lee and ler! mostly any tickle fights are between him and idia, or the freshmen, but occasionally others in nrc

LOVESS tickle fights!! thinks they r so so fun and honestly cant blame him lolll

Lilia

honestly. not that ticklish, like im gonna say a 4 and even thats pushing it.

not that i dont want him to be super ticklish, but i think that with old age comes him being less sensitive to tickles

though, i think his back would be a pretty bad spot!! he cant ever get back massages because it makes him laugh

when he laughs while being tickled, its super breathy and deep and its just to die for— cuz its not like his normal laugh..its literally a laugh that only occurs when he is being tickled

also very open when tickled, like instead of curling up, he kinda spreads out and kicks out?? its easier to access his spots though

he used to hate being tickled when he was younger because he was more ticklish and it made him feel weak, though as he grew older, he learned to embrace it and likes tickling now

while its true he doesnt mind being tickled, he definitely prefers to be the one doing the tickling lolll

his main victims r obviously the other members of the diasomnia dorm! he gets silver and sebek the most, but that doesn’t mean he doesnt get malleus quite often as well. its just that.. malleus puts up a fight— a pretty good one, at that.

great tickler, somehow knows all of ur spots before he even touches u and ur just like… how??

i think he likes to sneak attack ppl like will just randomly appear behind someone and tickle them cuz he thinks its funny, will do it to anyone he considers a friend LOL

he would be the type to say “tickle tickle tickle~” or “coochie coochie coo~” stuff like that or even just teasing his lee by wiggling his fingers

he would be the type to use punishment tickles its very funny like if someone does something wrong, “for your punishment, u must endure __ minutes of tickling” (time depends on what was done LOL

#twisted wonderland #tickling #twst #twst tickling #jai’s headcanons #trey clover #ruggie bucchi #jade leech #jamil viper #rook hunt #ortho shroud #lilia vanrouge #ticklish #twst headcanons #tickle headcanons

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