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trrickytickle · 10 months

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The Tea Word 🕸️🫖

GIF by liurnia

A/N: STILL NEED TO REPLY TO MESSAGES!!!!! Okay okay Liya let's get on track. DO. REQUESTS! goes without saying that the movie is goated but like, I was gonna write some Gwen (Stacy) but I had a silly and stupid idea and it snowballed. Soooo here's some Pav and Miles enjoooy blehhh (lee!Miles, ler Pavitr)

Pavitr procures pipin' hot chai for the spider-gang, but Miles still says it the wrong way. Luckily, an unmissable opportunity comes by for Pavitr to correct his mistake.

Spiced sweetness wafted through the air in the rec-room of the elite spider society, a pleasant aroma to the chattering spider-people, who mostly were bundled up into their own clique. Lego Spider-Man was recounting his fight with an evil businessman with huge pants to Spider-Cat, Peni was cleaning out SP//dr, and Miles, Gwen and Hobie were being served tall and sweet mugs of chai by Pavitr Prabhakar. With perfect barista-like precision, he procured two warm mugs and with a THWIP! they slid across the bar to the trio. Miguel was definitely going to give him an earful for serving the anomaly, but he did owe the spider-people one after saving Inspector Singh and his girlfriend in Mumbattan. With a dash of cinnamon, the drinks slid across the counter faster than any of them could say "My Spidey senses are tingling". Hobie took a sip, slamming his glass onto the counter. "Bloody amazing. Oi, Pav, you reckon this is why we bought out your plantations?" Gwen giggled, Miles briefly glancing at her apprehensively, going back to blowing on his chai and taking a generous swig. The political quip earned a chuckle and a playful shove from Pavitr. "Oh, yes, absolutely. Much better than spotted dick. Why's it called that anyways? Spotted dick.." Burning her tongue, Gwen winced with a high pitched -squeal!-. Miles laughed. "Shit, guess that's too hot for you." he teased, blowing on her tea. "What even was that?" "Shut it, Spider-Boy." Gwen chided. "Ahh… Man, this is some good chai tea.." Miles sighed, startled when the bar stilled with the loud noise of Pavitr's exasperated sigh. "Miles, Miles, my guy, we've been over this! CHAI. MEANS. TEA. You're seriously still saying chai tea!? It's JUST! chai!" Miles stammered, arms flailing like two eels out of water. "Wh- Look, bro, bro, back up, I'm used to it-" "Yeah, no wonder e' forgot. Bloke's bleedin' from 'is head down to 'is armpits." As he attempted to defend himself, Hobie very unexpectedly traced up the red lining in the armpits on Miles' suit, and he let out a high-pitched snicker. Making him flinch, Gwen and Pavitr both jumped back at Miles' reaction. Gwen giggled. "Yeah.. what even was that? You laugh like a girl." "That's a patriarchal construct." Hobie quipped back and nonchalantly sipped his tea. Miles shrugged. "Ticklish." Hobie backed up apologetically, keeping his hands to himself. "S'embarrassing. Think I probably would've glitched." Pavitr walked out from in front of the counter to the bar-stools where the spider-people sat behind Miles- (..hopefully only to join the other Spider-People) -and playfully jabbed at his sides. "-IIIEEE!-" "I- I mean it's all the same with you people! "Ghee butter".. "Naan bread".. gh- Y-You know what? You know what I'm gonna say to you now?" The spider-person wildly gestured with a ribbing enthusiasm, prodding Miles, who curled away in nervous anticipation. Just as suddenly as he had jumped up, Pavitr jammed his hands into Miles' armpits, spidering from there down to his ribs.

"Gudi-gudi-gudi-gudi-gudi! Tickle tickle!" The look on his masked face was determined and sly, eager to dish out playful karma. He teased, sure to rub in his grammatically correct Hindi-speaking, at machine-gun speed that went as fast as his dextrous fingers.

"Heh-hEEH-hahaHAAI'M- no! C'mon, wehe're friends, right-st-he-h-hha-Stop, stoppitst-hhhHh!! Sh-IH-ihit, man!" Miles sputtered, flailing like an awkward goose. "Ghh-Gwen! Gwen, help, he's attacking mE-!!"

She only ignored him, squealing and blushing with every octave of Miles' laughter and desperately trying not to be involved, Pavitr's prying teasing only filling her with slightly more dread.

"Hoho-heh-Hob-IEEE!! HELP!!" His hyperbolic pleas once again fell on deaf ears while Hobie's news-clipping phone case was pressed in the mugs of the two tussling Spider-People. Pavitr kept poking Miles in the ribs, gradually moving down his sides, prodding and teasing with a fascinated zest unil he reached his suit-clad tummy, which he clawed up and down, up and down, up and- it was driving Miles insane.

"Come oooon, say it, Miles! Chai is…"

"Teehee-HEEEE!!"

"Can't hear you! Chai is.." Giggling a little himself, Pavitr kept poking, making sure to harshly jab at Miles' stomach or armpits or wherever caused the best reaction as he was about to admit his "mistake". Much to his chagrin, Gwen was still acting …strange, and Hobie had recorded up to the three-minute mark by this point.

"Chahahai is tHHEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HE!" "Stop laughing and just say it! What's so funny about masala chai, huh? Huh?" "You're the one tickling me-hehehe!" Miles attempted to swat Pavitr away, sometimes succeeding with his spider sense. "Ooooh-hohoho, then this must be a really bad spot!" Pavitr chimed, spidering the space between Miles' ribs and sides. "Yeahaha-hah, no shit!" "So, what is chai?" His laughter grew louder as Pavitr moved down to his back, sliding his fingers down it. His eyes widened- he had control in those earlier moments of playful banter- but out of pure dumb luck (and probably prayer), oblivious ol' Pav had unknowingly found his worst spot. "Shi-HIT!-SHIHI-HIT! AHA-HH-HAH!" "Shit? Chai is shit?" Pavitr mock-gasped. "The audacity!"

"Nohohoho! Chaha-Chai tehe-HEEEA!- It's good!"

"Come on, you still don't get it?" Pavitr bluffed. "I thought we were friends, Miles!" He ramped up his fast flying finger movement as his digits climbed up and down Miles' ribs like he was speed-crawling up Mumbattan highways. "I'll give you One. More. Chance. Say it."

"Chai-chahaiisteehEEhee!-" Miles panted in exhaustion, Pavitr stilling his fingers as Hobie set down his phone and Gwen perked up from hiding her face on the bar's counter.

"-pant- -WHEW- Ne-heh-ver… neveragain…"

"Wow, great job, Miles, that only took you like, three tries." Pavitr quipped, fist-bumping Hobie. Said spider-anomaly quenched his laughed-out throat by guzzling the rest of his cold chai. Gwen perked up and kept composure, patting Miles' back. "Looked ...intense." she shivered. Hobie shrugged. "Just a spot of fun. I'll send you the video." "Iiiiiiranouddastorage." Gwen bluffed, blushing. Hobie slugged her in the arm, smiling. "Pork pies. (Cockney-ism for "lies") C'mon, we're mates, make some space for me, willya?" The shared air of laughter was greeted by a frown of disdain and glare from Miles. Pavitr pattted him on the back and gave him a smile. "C'mooon, go get her! I can't bear this!" "I-It's not like that!!" ----------------------------- The camraderie came to a close with a blanket of snow-white glow, enveloping the Spider-People fast as lightning would. Everything- the mugs- the counter- Lego Spider-Man- would be gone without a trace. It was an anomaly not even this lot could fix, and the events from earlier all washed away. 4 dAYS Avengers: Secret Tickle Wars- Part III Everything will change.

#tickle fic #tickling #tickle community #t-word #tfb community #tickle #tword

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pagesoflauren · 2 years

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Seeing Blind Ch. 5

Colin Shea x pregnant!reader

Summary: After a one-night stand, you find yourself pregnant. While navigating your pregnancy, the father of your baby seems to have another task at hand.

Warnings: angst, swearing, jealousy, eventual smut, slowish burn, in-depth descriptions/discussions of pregnancy, descriptions of mafia dynamics, Colin is a little shit

A/N: It’s been a minute since I've written; been going through a lot of mental health issues. I'm still working through them. I hope the next few installments of fics I post can make up for the delays. Thanks @eightcevanscentral.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

The park is crowded, teeming with people having picnics, walking their dogs, and letting their children run loose along the grass and walkways.

Everyone here seems to be more intimately involved. They hold hands or have their arms slung around their partners in one way or another. If they’re not attached physically, they walk in close proximity to each other.

It makes Colin and Aly stick out. They look like an awkward pair, staying about half an arm’s length from one another as they search for the picnic area where Aly’s next ex is meant to be entertaining a seven-year-old’s party.

“There it is,” Colin points out.

It’s the classic picnic-in-the-park birthday party with bright foil balloons, food everywhere, and kids running amuck with water guns and silly string. Parents are day drinking out in the open, not paying attention to whatever havoc their little monsters were creating.

Colin gulps when he realizes this is in his future. Over-the-top birthday parties for kids who probably won’t remember a single second of it, stupid presents, and mingling with actual adults who know what they’re doing.

He’s way out of his depth. He should’ve known he was punching out of his weight taking you back to his apartment; you were the only woman smart enough to leave before he woke up. His usual targets are the girls who have only a fraction more desperation than he has. It’s why they stay in the morning hoping for something more and what’s led him to running around Boston tracking down his neighbor’s exes.

“Well, there he is,” Aly’s voice comes, jarring him from his thoughts.

He spots a little wooden theater where two homemade farm animal puppets appear to be arguing. The kids burst into laughter while Colin and Aly exchange a look.

As the show comes to a close, it doesn’t get any stranger, but it gives Aly an opportunity to say hello while the kids get cake and watch the birthday celebrant open presents.

To avoid looking like a strange man lingering around a child’s birthday party, Colin makes his way to a tree and sits among the roots. He contemplates his impending fatherhood while people watching from his vantage point.

It’s not just stupidly expensive birthday parties coming. He watches a dad catch his kid mid-fall–it’s that too. He sees another lugging a diaper bag in one hand while his baby flails in his grip, but his hold never falters.

Colin looks at his hands. Can I do that?

At the birthday party, a man mediates a situation between two boys. One boy says something, he looks at the other one. On and on, until the man speaks once more and the boys hug before playing together again.

Will anyone teach him how to do this?

He thinks about his own father; Chief of Police in Salem, a well-respected man who produced two sons who have made a name for themselves in their own rights.

And a third who had no part of his life together, trying to usher a baby into the world with a woman he had a one night stand with.

“Well, that was a disaster,” Aly’s voice jars him from his thoughts, the ideas rattling in his brain before dissipating like smoke.

“Huh?”

“Didn’t get much out of that encounter other than the fact that I remember why we broke up.”

“And…?”

“His puppets creeped me out. Anyway,” Aly pauses as she opens her purse and digs through it. “Here is…twenty, forty, sixty, seventy.”

She hands him the cash and it crumples in his hands.

“You wanna grab a taxi back to the building? I need some wine.”

Colin shakes his head. “No, I’m just gonna head a few blocks that way before I head back.”

“What’s over at ‘a few blocks that way’?”

“Just gotta pick up some stuff,” he says as he shoves the bills in his pocket. “I’ll see ya around.”

She nods and walks on her way to the western entrance of the park.

Putting his hands in his pockets, Colin stands up and begins to walk down the path when a male voice catches his attention.

“Hey, Free Licks.”

Looking up, he finds Mateo, donned in all black with shades perched on his nose. Colin can’t help but note the difference between the two of them again; he was wearing stained jeans and a faded t-shirt.

Colin greets him with a nod. “Detective.”

“What brings you to the park today?”

“Oh, you know, the sunshine, the fresh air.” Colin inhales through his nose obnoxiously.

Mateo raises an eyebrow. “I see. Well, I was here on business from Y/N, but…when I see suspicious activity, I have to follow up on it, you know?”

Colin shakes his head, a little incredulous. “What? She’s got you spying on me?”

“Not you, but a point person. BPD business. There was a drop that was meant to happen. You know anything about that?”

Pursing his lips and raising his brows, Colin gestures “no” again. “Nothing that I’ve seen.”

Mateo reaches into his pocket and hands him his card. “Well, if you see anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

Taking it between his thumb and forefinger, the card nearly falls in his weak grip. Colin doesn’t know what to do with it or why Mateo is giving it to him. “Sure…?”

“Good. See you around, Free Licks.”

- - - - -

“I wasn’t expecting you to actually show up,” you scoff with a smile. “But, while you’re here, you can push the cart.”

You let go and the cart still moves, wheels squeaking as it glides down the aisle and Colin scrambles to get a grip on the handle. When he eventually gets it, he cranes his neck to find you studying the different boxes lining the shelves.

“What are we looking at?”

“Changing tables.”

“Like the ones in ladies’ bathrooms?”

“Not quite, but same idea. Just a space where you can store everything for changing a diaper and keep the baby safe while you’re grabbing stuff.”

“You make it sound like it’s a whole process,” Colin snorts.

You look at him. “You’ve never changed a diaper before in your life, have you?”

He scoffs, lying through his teeth. “Psh, what are you talking about? Of course, I have.”

“It’s okay if you haven’t, you know that right?”

How are you able to see right through him?

It seems his face shows his bewilderment, and you respond to it, “Colin, like I said, I didn’t expect you to do any of this. I still don’t expect a lot from you–not that I don’t welcome this, but because I can do this on my own if I need to.”

He doesn’t reply. Looking at his face, his cheeks look particularly round like a child’s, casting a sort of innocence on him that doesn’t reflect the person you know him as. He’s goofy and charming, things that attracted you to him in the first place that fateful night when all of this started. Along with that, he’s experienced, but you can see there’s a thought rattling in his mind that his mouth won’t say.

“Look, whatever your decisions are for doing this—if you’re trying to prove yourself to someone or if you’re putting expectations on yourself–you can’t let that bother you. I don’t know the extent of what I’m getting myself into. This kid could be like me, or they could be like you. But however they turn out, I’m gonna do my best to make sure they live happily. And that’s all you can do: your best.”

He nods, but you don’t think it’s really getting to him.

“Maybe I can sign us up for a parent coaching class. I’m sure we’d hardly be the first unusual pair of parents a teacher has seen.”

His cheeks turn red first, then his ears. He smiles and nods again. “Yeah…yeah, I think that’s a great idea.”

“It’s a deal.”

You grab his hand and hook your pinky with his.

“Now, while we’re here, can you do me a favor and put that box in the cart?” you ask, pointing to the one you want.

“Yes, ma’am.”

As he does what you request, you bite your lip and blink slowly.

You can feel your non-expectations–the ones you still hold on Colin where he’s welcome to do as he pleases–slowly metamorphosize. There’s a flash of him bathed in the morning sunlight, smiling up at a giggling baby he’s lifting over his head.

“Anything else from this aisle?”

The image is gone in a puff of smoke, trailing in the air before disappearing completely.

You shake your head. “No, but I need to go to the next aisle and look at rocking chairs.”

- - -

Hauling everything to the cashier for check out, your items are ringed up and bagged while you reach for your wallet.

“Oh, here…I have this.”

Colin shoves his hand in his pocket, pulling out some crumpled up bills and awkwardly setting them on the counter. Just by looking at it and the grand total of the items on the counter, you know it’s not enough.

“Colin…it’s okay,” you say, pulling out your card and handing it to the cashier.

As he gathers up the money, you ask where he got it.

“I did a favor for a friend.”

“And they paid you that much money for a favor?”

Grabbing the last bill, he puts it back into his pocket. “Well, she owes me.”

You don’t have time to wonder too much about why he’s being so vague, not with the cashier asking for your signature for the payment and asking if you want to join the store’s rewards program.

With all the items bagged, you and Colin hail a taxi to go back to your apartment. Every once in a while, you consider pressing further, your suspicion a by-product of the analytical mind that got you the position you work in.

Deciding against it, you send Colin on his way and prepare for work tomorrow.

- - - - -

You yawn as you exit your apartment, pivoting back to lock the door behind you.

A flash of blue stuck on your door as it closes behind you catches your eye. When you look at it, you realize it’s a note, probably from one of your neighbors.

The words become clearer as you reach for the note, peeling it off the surface and reading it.

If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop.

You huff. Rolling your eyes, you stuff it into your canvas bag–your newly-designated lunch bag ever since your appetite grew so that you could “eat for two.”

And prevent yourself from rage-quitting your job out of hunger-fueled anger.

Figuring it’s just the young kid on the second floor playing a prank, you head out to work.

- - -

“Bebitaaaa,” Mateo sings as he enters your cave of computer monitors.

He places a hand on your shoulder to straighten your spine.

“You need to work on your posture,” he remarks.

You scoff. “And you need to pack your own snacks and stop taking from a pregnant lady,” you speak, but are certain he couldn’t hear you over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

“Speaking of you being pregnant, I ran into Colin at the park yesterday..." he trails off. "What’s this?”

“Hmm?”

Your chair swivels as you look at him, finding the note from your door in his hand. “Bebita…where’d you find this?”

“Oh,” you exhale dismissively, “that’s nothing. I found it on my door this morning.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Tell you about what? It’s a note. Probably from the little boy upstairs.”

Mateo’s eyes narrow. “How old is that kid?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “Fourteen?”

“I don’t think fourteen-year-olds play tricks like this.”

“Just because you didn’t because you were a damn genius who went to college at sixteen doesn’t mean other fourteen-year-olds don’t.”

“Bebita, I don’t think you understand this. ‘If you know what’s good for you’? That’s a threat.”

“Mateo, come on, after that it says ‘you’ll stop.’ Stop what? If this is a threat, it’s a pretty empty one.”

“We’re in a dangerous line of work, did you even consider that maybe this is a guy from the mob? Or maybe one of them put the kid up to writing the note to try and hide their scent?”

You roll your eyes, “Knock it off, Mateo. There’s no way they know who I am, much less where I live–”

“You don’t know that, you don’t know what they’re capable of–”

“I know what I’m capable of, and I’m pretty sure my work is completely untraceable.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then grabs your phone from the desk. Unlocking it, he swipes through and taps before showing you the screen. It’s Colin’s contact information. His thumb hovers over the call button.

“Don’t make me do this.”

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes again, your head lolling back in annoyance as your arms cross. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He taps the button and he brings the phone to his ear as the call begins.

You hear Colin on the other line. “Hello?”

“Hey, Free Licks.”

“Oh, it’s you.”

You snort and Mateo’s eyes drift up in exasperation. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m calling though because Y/N found a threatening note on her door but doesn’t think it’s a big deal.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Yeah, it said, ‘if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop.’ I think the mob knows where she lives.”

“You really think they would?” Colin’s concern comes clearly through the speaker.

“I think anything’s possible,” Mateo says pointedly, throwing you a look. “But like I said, she’s pretty confident in her ability to be untraceable.”

“But if the note was on her door…”

Mateo nods slowly, smugly. “You get it.”

“Is she there?”

“Right in front of me.”

“Can I talk to her?”

You take the phone, sticking your tongue out before you speak, “Hey Colin.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the note when we were texting earlier?”

“Same thing I told Mateo,” you sigh, getting really irritated that you keep having to repeat yourself. “It’s not a big deal, it’s probably nothing.”

“But it was on your door.”

“I’m sure a lot of people find notes on their doors.”

“Not threatening ones!” Colin says into the receiver as Mateo nearly shouts the same thing in front of you.

“God, how do I turn off the surround sound in here?”

“Bebita, you might take this lightly, but I’m not.”

“Yeah…yeah, and neither am I!” Colin tacks on.

“A woman’s life is most endangered when she’s pregnant because that’s the time she’s most likely to get killed.”

You’re shocked Mateo would bring that up to you now, placing a hand on your lower stomach.

“I’m not taking any chances with you, especially with Riona Maher’s arrest at Logan happening earlier this week.”

You swallow, pushing your pride down as you look away from Mateo. You feel like a teenager getting lectured by her father.

“Promise me if you see anything else like this, you’ll tell me right away.”

You don’t reply immediately.

“Promise him,” Colin pleads from the phone.

“Fine, I promise. But only because I’m still pretty sure this is nothing.”

“I’ll take it,” Mateo sighs. “And Colin’s a witness.”

“Thanks for including me.”

Mateo says, “You’re welcome,” as you say goodbye and end the call.

“I’m gonna take this down to forensics and see if they can pull up anything.”

“You’d be wasting time,” you taunt as you turn back to your computer.

“And I’m driving you home tonight and picking you up in the morning.”

“Mateo–”

“Nothing you can do about it, my mind’s made up.”

He shuts the door behind him, leaving you typing away as you shake your head.

I’m the pregnant one, your mind gripes, I should be the one who overreacts to things, not them.

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou @bangtan-serendipity @lovemarvelousfics @rainbowkisses31 @richonne4life @damnndeanndamnn @meetmeatyourworst @tinyplanet-explorer @vivien-1211 @unknownmystery22 @nerdygirl8203 @xoxabs88xox @mariaenchanted @gotnofucks @denisemarieangelina @myoxisbroken @kelbabyblue @pspice639 @maynay43 @just-another-wretched-egg @jennmurawski13 @avantgardium-leviosa @random-butterfly @rachelderivia @kenzieam @bluemusickid @asiaaisa77 @angrybirdcr @inactivewhore @velvetcardiganbucky @madbaddic7ed @mysweetlittledesire @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @buckymydarlingangel @mayasreadingnook

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit @astheworlddturns @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @maeleeme @tvckerlance @thiskindahotkindamusic @fizzahocleirigh @marantha @justile

Seeing Blind Taglist: @dbnightingale24 @twittytelly @chase-your-dreams-away @phoenixhalliwell @starlightcrystalline @chalametet @evanswife1918

#Colin Shea #Colin Shea fanfic #colin shea fanfiction #colin shea x reader #colin shea x you #What's Your Number fic #chris evans fanfic #pregnant!reader #Colin Shea x pregnant!reader #Chris Evans x pregnant!reader #pol!Seeing Blind #ficsofpagesoflauren

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squiggly-mctwig · 2 years

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Dr strange headcannons pls

Lee

Ler-leaning switch

Pretty decently ticklish but he tends to hide it

If it's a loved one or a close friend trying to wreck him, he wont really put it as first priority to escape as much, the complete opposite going for other people

Stephen tends to get a little annoyed when he's tickled while reading or heavily focused on something ( He definitely doesnt mind when he's not busy though hueHUEEHUEUE- )

On a scale of one to ten, he's a split 6.5

Usually he grits his teeth or covers his face with his arm to stop himself from giggling himself silly

Usually its ends with the dam breaking and his face going red from holding it in

His laugh is really boy-ish and a little more on the low side most of the time, but it sometimes falters to a more high-pitched giggle when he's taken by surprise

Teases arent really effective on him

When Stephen is aware he's about to get wrecked, he tries to play it cool while silently begging the cloak "man you gotta help me fly me out or something".

Instantly pin him down because he's going to flail like hell to try to escape

Worst spots are the back of his neck, that-one-area-where-the-ribs-and-underarms-meet, and his sides

Raspberries are murderous holy-

He let's a laugh-screech out everytime and flails so much

His hands are an absolute no-no spot, Strange's hands are sensitive but more in an uncomfortable way

Main lers are Christine, occassionally Wong when he's being a sarcastic donkey, and of course the cloak

Ler

Snarky-ass ler, I tell ya

Personally I think the ler role fits him more, still adorable as a lee though

Constantly throwing out teases about the most obvious things, and most of the time it works

"This must tickle, right? What do you mean it doesnt? You're laughing :^)"

Usually only tickles people as retaliation, which isnt common, but also not rare

Will occassionally use his magic to pin or at least catch the lee off-guard

He'll check on the person if they go a little too red in the face and maybe will stop

Unless hes feeling a little relentless

Probably will try to get the lee to say something that will give him an ego boost to jokingly brag about later on

"Say that I'm the Greatest Wizard in the Multiverse and I'll let you go."

"YOU HAHARDLY AMOUNT TOHO GIHILDEROY LOHOHOCKHART"

offended gasp

Either completely deadpan or smirking when he's tickling someone and both are equally scary

Kinda just digs his fingers in to tickle someone instead of fluttering ( though really carefully )

Will use gentle tickles if it's a spot that's horribly sensitive like their neck or ears

I feel like it's illegal to not mention his awesome facial hair 💅

Like lil beard scribbles hhhhhhhh

Mainly tickles Christine and people who are close

#Lee!Dr strange #Lee!Stephen Strange #ticklish!dr strange #ticklish!stephen strange #but like #bro i love this man #Squigg headcannons

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bumbleleewrites · 3 years

Text

Fighting Monsters

Written using this prompt. Thank you, @emmabloomo725! :]

Summary: Techno is play fighting with young Tommy, when he gets a bit too cocky. It’s his responsibility as an older brother, along with Wilbur, to take him down a peg.

[Canon] Lee!Tommy, Ler!Techno, Ler!Wilbur, brief implied Ler!Phil. Tommy is 7-8 years old and all characters are aged down accordingly.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I’ll admit this was a bit of a challenge and isn’t my best work, since I wrote this on pretty much zero sleep. I hope you all enjoy nonetheless! As well, beeduo content has been giving me loads of ideas, so please feel free to pop in my ask box with any prompts for them! I really need to expand my writing past the SBI boys/lh

The dull sound of clattering wood filled the large room, echoing against the walls. Bright midday sunlight poured in through a small window, illuminating the space warmly. Tommy and Techno were in this space, training with play swords they had made out of branches a few days earlier. Despite the rest of his family thinking it was unnecessary for him to be taught combative strategies at such a young age, the boy was eager to learn. Techno, and occasionally Wilbur, had taken to training him in close-range combat. After the first few times, it had become a regular occurrence in the household, due to Tommy’s constant asking and the others’ inability to deny him of it.

“Techno, no!” the young blond cried playfully as the pink-haired boy gently prodded his shoulder with the end of his sword. Techno couldn’t resist a smile at that, retracting his hand and lowering the weapon to his side. “Not bad, big man,” he reassured Tommy, “But remember to guard your upper body, yeah?”

Tommy looked up and smiled at him, nodding. He was still clearly disappointed at his defeat, however, as he was unsuccessfully trying to hide the slight dejection in his eyes. Techno hummed, noticing the boy’s disappointment.

“Hey, Tommy?” he asked, forming an idea for a new game they could play. Something fun, and even a bit silly, he decided, would hopefully cheer him up. “Yeah?” replied Tommy, with a fake brightness in his tone.

“Have I ever told you about Greek monsters?” the other began. “I don’t think so,” he responded. Although he had seen the term scrawled on the spines of a few books scattered around their home, he had never bothered to read them.

Techno smiled excitedly. “Really? I’ve never told you about them?” Tommy shook his head. “Well there’s a lot to tell...” he started, before looking behind Tommy to see a tall figure standing in the doorway, looking at them with fondness in his eyes. “Hi, Wil,” greeted Techno. Tommy’s eyes lit up at the mention of the name and he turned to face his other brother. “Wil!” he chirped, bouncing up and down on his heels. “Hey, Tommy!” Wilbur replied, stepping into the room, “Techno,” he added with a smile, “What are you two up to?” “We’re training!” interrupted Tommy cheerily, as Techno opened his mouth to speak.

“Oh really?” Wilbur fawned. “We were about to fight Greek monsters, actually,” stated Techno. Wilbur chuckled lightly as he walked further in. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it then. I just came in to get my guitar,” he said, motioning slightly to the instrument which was perched precariously against the wall. He sauntered towards it and wrapped his hand around the guitar’s neck.

“Nooo, Wilbur, stay!” Tommy shouted, running up to the boy and wrapping his arms around his waist. The brunet grinned and looked up towards Techno, who nodded in permission. “Sure, Toms,” Wilbur agreed, lightly patting his back affectionately. Tommy let go of him and ran back to Techno, hurriedly picking his sword up from the floor. Wilbur took his guitar into his hands and sat cross-legged against the wall. He began strumming a few riffs quietly, trying not to disturb his brothers. The faint melody echoed around the room, but nobody particularly minded. “Alright, Tommy. You ready?” asked Techno, beaming at him. “Yeah!” Tommy yelled excitedly, squatting down slightly into a fighting stance.

“Okay. Now, the Chimera was a really scary one,” explained Techno, being careful to slow down from his usual quick, passionate rambling so the boy was able to understand, “she was a lion with a goat’s head on her back, and a snake for a tail. Pretty weird, right?” Tommy nodded eagerly. Techno hesitantly descended to his knees and hands to mimic a quadruped, feeling slightly sheepish while doing so. He raised his head to look up at the blond with a mischievous smile. “So, the Chimera, in ancient Greece, used to cause trouble all over the country, and people really hated her. But a brave soldier, Bellerophon, defeated her and made everyone happy. You, big man, are going to be Bellerophon, okay?” “Okay!” the boy agreed enthusiastically, bouncing a little.

He held out his sword as Techno inched closer. Suddenly, he charged forward, pointing the branch at his brother’s arm, but the eldest quickly ducked and rolled away. They continued this routine of Tommy attacking and Techno swiftly dodging him, while Wilbur watched from afar. The musician had stopped playing to observe their antics, smiling at them and resting his chin between his hands. He decided, however, that such a battle would surely benefit from a soundtrack. He began to strum some chords, letting each string ring out individually to mimic a harp. Slightly chuckling to himself, he tried his best to think of lyrics as he began to sing: “Bellerophon the brave is fighting the beast,

He’ll uh… it will be a struggle, at the very least.

The, er… his sword fighting is... reallyyyy gooood,

Will he lose?... uh… that has a… big unlikelihood.”

Techno snorted at the song as he narrowly ducked away from the sword, which had been aimed for his head. He flinched and squinted his eyes shut, however, when the branch came colliding with his forehead. Tommy cried triumphantly and threw his arms in the air. Techno whined slightly at the pain and rubbed his face.

“Well done, Toms!” Wilbur praised from across the room. He lightly tapped his guitar strings rather than clapping, creating an annoying tinny sound that echoed across the space. “Yeah, good job!” Techno beamed. He’d been going easy on the boy, not realizing how much his skills had improved since they began. “But maybe I was just making it too easy for you.” “No way!” retorted Tommy, “I beat you!” “Oh, yeah? Then you’ll be able to beat me next time, too?” “Try me,” said the youngest, crossing his arms proudly. Techno grinned determinedly. He loved his brother, but there was no way he’d let him be this cocky and get away with it. He crawled towards the boy, before stopping a couple feet away. “Tommy?” “Yeah?” “Do you think you could beat...” he paused dramatically with a smirk, “the tickle monster?”

Techno pounced, leaning over and digging his fingers into the boy’s sides before he had time to protest. Tommy fell on his back, not expecting the attack, and squealed. He flailed his arms, giggling, and Techno winced as he felt Tommy’s weapon hit his back bluntly. “Tehehechnohoho!” Tommy complained as his eyes squeezed shut. Techno moved up and wiggled his fingers against his ribs, making his laughter increase in volume. “Tommy- Ow! Wilbur, a little help?” Techno asked.

It was getting difficult to keep Tommy still due to his squirming. The brunet gently rested his guitar on the floor and raced over, crouching near Tommy’s face. He leaned forward and grabbed his wrists with slight difficulty, holding them up so he would stop attacking his brother. The blond’s eyes shot open as he looked up to see Wilbur looming over him, smirking. “Wihihilbuhuhur, nohoho!” he complained through his laughter.

“Wilbur, yes!” he mocked, moving his wrists into one hand so he could scratch under the boy’s chin. Tommy squealed and tried to turn his head away, to no avail. Meanwhile, Techno had moved a hand down to squeeze at Tommy’s knees, relishing in his squawking at each contact.

“Nahahah- plehehEHese!” Techno chuckled. “Hah, no way, nerd, you said you could beat me!” “Yeah, Toms,” Wilbur added, “You shouldn’t start a fight you have no chance of winning!” The brunet tightened his grip as Tommy began to squirm harder. Techno suddenly began drilling his fingers into the boy’s hips. Wilbur, deciding it was an appropriate time to switch spots, swirled his fingers in light circles around Tommy’s neck. The blond shrieked and twisted his body even harder.

“Well, Tommy, I don’t think this is accurate. I don’t remember Bellerophon being defeated by tickles!” he teased, as the boy writhed back and forth. Realizing he had no chance of escaping until he’d been thoroughly wrecked, Tommy resorted to calling for backup. “DADZAHAHA!” he yelled as loud as he could, causing both the older boys to recoil from the sudden sound. “Awwww, Tommy,” Wilbur cooed, “Cracking already?” Loud footsteps could be heard coming stomping down the hall and coming to a sudden halt at the doorway. Phil stood there, panicked for Tommy's safety, but sighed in relief when he realized the sons were just playing. He noticed, however, that the boy’s face was growing awfully red, and that it was getting difficult for him to inhale in between his giggles. The man slowly crept closer until he was hovering over the group. He spread his wings suddenly, attempting to startle the lers. “Hi,” he spoke. His plan worked, as Wilbur loosened his hold just enough for Tommy to slip his hands free. All three boys looked up at him, the elder two bringing their hands to a stop. Tommy gasped as his residual giggles faded away. “What’s going on here?” Phil asked, smiling, although his concern was evident. Tommy refused to answer, embarrassed, while Wilbur and Techno merely stared at each other guiltily. “Were you killing Tommy again?” “They weren’t killing me, ‘m a big man,” Tommy answered sheepishly. Phil continued to eye the other two with an accusing look. “Alright, that’s enough for today. Come on, up,” Phil said. Wilbur and Techno each backed away and stood up, trying to look innocent. The older man maneuvered around them and scooped up Tommy from the floor, who lay limp in his arms. He set the boy on his feet and ruffled his blond hair, at which he yelled embarrassedly. Phil cooed, before turning to the other two. With a smirk, he held out his wings and shook them threateningly, causing the feathers to softly ruffle. “Run.” The boys had never fled so fast in their life.

#mcyt tickle #lee!tommyinnit #lee!tommy #ler!techno #ler!wilbur #ler!philza #dsmp tickle #sfw tickles #tickle community #tickle fic #tickling #tickle blog

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

Teaming Up and Taking Down (Yuri on Ice)

Summary: When Yurio accuses Victor of not working as hard as he used to because his husband is a distraction, Victor vows to uphold his lover's honor, and Yuuri can't help but join in.

A/N: This. This was the problem child. My solution? Screw it - I like it the way it is, so I'm sharing the original piece. I love the idea of crazy ticklish Yurio, and this is what we get here! Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,270

~~~

When Yuuri and Victor had invited Yurio over for dinner one evening, the last thing Yuuri had expected to hear coming from the living room was the sound of raucous laughter. At first he thought it was the TV, but when the hysterics became infused with cries of “stop!” and “Victor, no!”, the dark-haired man knew something else had to be going down out there. Once it was safe to turn off the stove and walk away from it for a moment he did so, intending to investigate what the source of the noise was.

He was even more stunned to see Victor sitting on top of Yurio, hands shoved up under his shirt to scribble at his back, and Yurio red in the face and screaming with ticklish laughter.

“Uh…what?” That was the only thing Yuuri could think to say as he stared at the unexpected scene.

Victor noticed him in the doorway and beamed his beautiful, innocent smile. “Yuuri! Come help me tickle Yurio!”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Yurio screeched, arms flailing and legs kicking. He was face-down on the floor, unable to do anything more than lay there and endure. He turned his face toward Yuuri and managed to glare at him through his cackling. “DOHOHOHOHOHON’T TOHOHOUCH ME, PIHIHIHIHIHIGGY!!”

“What…what is going on?” Yuuri asked, still stunned. “Why is this happening?”

“VIHIHIHIHIHIHICTOR’S A LIHIHIHITTLE BIHIHIHIHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Yurio’s anger was drowned out by his fresh shriek of ticklish distress when Victor went for the backs of his lower ribs. The blonde dissolved into silent hysterics, weakly slapping the floor with the palm of his hand.

“Now, now. Be nice, Yurio~” Victor teased. He gestured for his partner a second time. “Come on! He won’t bite, Yuuri.”

Yurio finally managed to gasp in a breath of air and he cried, “I WIHIHIHIHIHILL BITE!! I’LL BIHIHIHIHIHIHIHITE!! VIHIHIHICTOR, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile a little at the scene, moving closer to the two figures on the floor of his living room. “I’m pretty sure he’ll kill me if I tickle him, too, Victor.”

Victor chuckled. “Then hold his arms up for me, would you, my love?”

Blushing at the cute pet name, Yuuri took hold of Yurio’s wrists and pulled them above his head, expecting Victor to go for his underarms next. Instead the silver-haired man stood up just long enough to grab Yurio by the hips and flip him onto his back, sitting back down on his waist and scribbling across his belly.

Yurio’s explosive laughter died down to an endless stream of high-pitched giggles, his legs digging into the carpet desperately. For the first time Yuuri could see his face. It was flushed dark red and there were tears leaking from his eyes, but his smile was enormous and – if he didn’t know any better – he’d say the kid looked like he was having the time of his life.

“Vihihihihihihictor, stohohohohohohop,” the blonde pleaded, still twisting and squirming as his mentor’s nimble fingers danced along his lower torso playfully. “I cahahahahan’t breheheheathe!”

“Why do you think I’m slowing down?” Victor winked at him, gradually coming to a complete stop, hands resting on Yurio’s sides. “Take a break, Yurio.”

“A b-break?!” He squeaked, eyes widening. “Y-You’re not done?”

“Of course not. I still have my lover’s honor to uphold.”

Yuuri frowned, confused. “You what now?”

“Yurio accused me of not working as hard as I used to because I spend more time with you nowadays.” Victor pouted a little. “But spending time with you is my choice, and I think it’s a good one. So…” He gently scraped his nails over the blonde’s waistline. “Until he apologizes, I plan to keep tickling him.”

Yurio’s breath hitched. He tried tugging his arms down but Yuuri still held him firm. “Y-You little crybaby! Your beloved piggy is a distraction and you know it!”

Victor tsked. “Very well, then.”

“Nonono – ahahahahahahaha! Gehehehehehet off of meheheheahahahahahaha!” Yurio tossed his head back with a new round of helpless giggles, his bright smile lighting up his face again. “No mohohohohohohohore! Victor!”

Yuuri considered a moment, then decided he wanted in on this silly game they were playing. He pinned the blonde’s arms beneath his knees and reached down to scratch at his underarms, making him jolt. “You don’t think Victor is working hard enough? He’s the hardest working person I know, and I know you feel the same way, Yurio.”

“D-Dohohohohohon’t tahahahalk to me, lihihihittle p-piggy – AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Victor had found the backs of his ribs again, instantly sending him back into his desperate, screaming hysterics. “NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! STAHAHAHAHAHAP IT ALREADY!! I’M RIHIHIHIHIHIGHT AND YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOW IT!!”

Yuuri was honestly surprised that Yurio was demanding more than begging. He knew that if he was in this positon he’d have been pleading for mercy far more than this a long time ago. The young man’s endurance was amazing – though he seemed to be crumbling bit by bit.

Victor took his time, carefully tickling every spot he could think of. Yurio cackled and kicked and threatened and shouted more than one colorful word at them both, but gradually his resistance began to wear down, and Yuuri could tell he was reaching some kind of limit.

“Victor,” he said, slowing his own tickling to a stop. “Maybe we should take it easy. He looks like he’s going to pass out.”

The silver-haired skater gave him a wink and a smile. “Don’t worry, Yuuri. He’ll give up before that happens, I promise.”

“SHUT UP!! I WIHIHIHIHIHIHILL NOHOHOHOHOT GIVE UHUHUHUHUP!!” Yurio’s face was streaked with mirthful tears at this point, and he was gasping for breath, cheeks so red he looked like a cherry.

Then Victor reached around for the backs of his ribs again.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T TAKE ANY MOHOHOHOHOHORE!!” The blonde kicked frantically, shaking his head. “I’M SOHOHORRY, I’M SOHOHOHOHOHOHORRY!! PLEASE, LET ME GOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

Rather than stopping immediately, Victor helped ease Yurio down from the height of his ticklish distress by traveling back up to the front of his ribs, moving down to his belly, and tracing his waistline for a few moments before finally stopping and patting his stomach gently. Yuuri let go of his arms, but Yurio kept them where they were, panting like he’d run a marathon, his smile plastered to his face.

“Easy, Yurio,” Victor soothed, climbing off of him and rubbing his shoulder, brushing his hair from his face. “Breathe. We’ll get you some water.”

Yuuri leapt to his feet and hurried into the kitchen to do just that, barely aware of their dinner cooling on the stove. When he returned to the living room Yurio was sitting up. He reached for the water without complaint or insult and sipped it slowly, at least having the presence of mind to know not to chug it all at once.

“Still think I spend too much time with my own husband?” Victor asked him after a few minutes had passed and the blonde had regained his breath.

Yurio rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Wonderful! You know I’m happy to kick you down a notch whenever you’d like.”

“Shut up.”

Yuuri sat on the couch, watching them with a smile. “Are you ready for dinner now? I imagine you worked up quite an appetite after all that exercise.”

Victor smiled at him. “Of course! Let’s eat!”

“You expect me to walk after all that?” Yurio grumbled, getting to his feet with a groan. Both men helped him to the dining room, where he promptly plopped into a chair, glass of water still in hand. “All right, piggy. Let’s see if you’re as good a cook as Victor says you are.”

#fanfiction #tickle fic #yuri on ice #yoi #yuri plisetsky #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #victuuri #yurio #playful #revenge #fun #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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in-tua-deep · 4 years

Note

I would like to see Hargreaves family time please :3

HMMMM have a bonding scene ;3c

it is unedited though bc i never got around to it lmao

...

The thing they don’t tell you about recovering after escaping from terrible experiences, is that there are some things that you miss about them. You can be glad that you escaped while still mourning what you left behind, even if as far as you are concerned there shouldn’t be anything to mourn in the first place.

Five hated the apocalypse with something heavy and terrible that settled deep in his gut and that tended to be vomited out at the most inopportune times. Or perhaps it wasn’t hate at all, but fear that he experienced. Not that he would ever admit it, mind you.

But there were just some things that just - well. Five had spent over forty years in the apocalypse, sifting through rubble and ruin and scratching out equations on walls that were too broken to offer even the memory of the comfort and safety they’d once upheld. He’d spent forty years clinging to life by his fingernails and re-reading a book that was the only thing he had of his siblings outside of the grave sites he refused to visit,

He didn’t want to go back there. His entire life’s work was getting out of that hellscape and making it so that it never existed in the first place. Five hated and feared the apocalypse, but oh there were some days that he missed it with such a terrible fierceness it rather took his breath away.

He missed it on the days when nothing seemed to go right, when every word that came out of his mouth was wrong. When people looked at him with tightness around their eyes and pinched lips, and his siblings looked at him with pity in their eyes. Poor little Number Five, who couldn’t even accomplish the simplest of social interactions without inevitably fucking it up. Poor little Number Five, who forgot that people weren’t supposed to write on walls or hoard food in their rooms or freak out when someone burned food in a kitchen.

Adapting to a normal life was a challenge that Five hadn’t ever thought about - because what about his life had ever been normal? He was a child soldier, and then an apocalypse survivor, and then a temporal assassin and then - he wasn’t quite certain what he was now. Was he a child, or an adult? What was he supposed to do with himself now?

He missed that sense of purpose in the apocalypse. He missed Dolores. His one companion for so many years. He’d actually known her for longer than he’d known his own family, and wasn’t that an odd thought?

He missed the spot he’d holed up in before an earthquake had ruined it almost ten years before the Commission had found him. It wasn’t much, but he’d found a handful of records that had miraculously survived and an old record player that had even more miraculously done so.

He’d admitted to Dolores that he didn’t really know how to dance, not beyond the general flailing and swaying his siblings had used to drag him into when Luther played something from his budding collection.

(Five hadn’t had the heart to go rooting through the remains of the Umbrella Academy for things that could be salvaged, but he wondered about it often. He wondered if he’d find a whole entire collection of records, of if Luther would have lost interest and gotten rid of them all. He wondered if Allison still read through all the trashy magazines she could get her hands on as an adult, if she still tried to balance books on her head and walk regally through the house just because she’d read it once in a princess book or if she’d grown out of that.

He was back now, and perfectly capable of asking, but he didn’t. He looked at his siblings and saw strangers and missed his childhood even with the shadow of Reginald looming over them all. He loved his siblings as they were now, but oh he ached with the knowledge that the siblings he had known, the ones he had tried so hard to get back to, were lost to time. As good as dead. But then again, perhaps so was he.

He wasn’t the child who left on that fateful November day. He would never be him again.)

He missed Dolores teaching him to dance under the pale moon. Or well, not perhaps dancing so much as gently swaying together with his arms around her, cheek pressed against hers, as he closed his eyes and pretended for a moment that he hadn’t met her in the apocalypse at all. That they’d just bumped into one another in the street and gone on dates where he made her laugh and where he stressed about what to wear - a million inconsequential moments that meant nothing and everything at the same time. He’d wished they’d had a life together instead of the slow drawn out death that was the only thing that existed in the apocalypse.

And perhaps, there were other things he didn’t know he would miss until they were already gone and out of reach. Things he didn’t even think about, until he looked up at night and wondered where all the stars had gone.

It was a silly thing to get upset over, to go tearing through the house like a man possessed to figure out what had happened to the stars.

(Or perhaps it wasn’t so silly after all - the almost-apocalypse he had witnessed destroyed the moon. Was it such a reach to wonder about the stars, as well?)

Light pollution was the simple answer. It wasn’t that the stars were no longer there, just that they were drowned out. Only a few pinpricks bright enough to shine through and be picked up by the human eye. There had been no human lights in the apocalypse, with no one to turn them on or off except one lonely man who had a flashlight with scavenged batteries. Not nearly enough to make any difference.

The stars had been so beautiful. On the clear crisp nights, he’d lay next to Dolores on the ground staring up at the brilliant specks of light and tried his darnest to remember the constellations that once upon a time Luther had enthusiastically outlined for his unattentive brother at the height of his space phase.

(“When we get back,” He’d whispered to Dolores ever so softly, in the way he whispered every wish that only seemed appropriate to utter out loud under the night sky, “I’m going to get Luther to tell me them again, and I’ll actually listen this time. I won’t tell him to shut up, or that stars aren’t important. I’ll listen.”

He’d never been very good at listening, even as a child. But outside of a seven day deadline - the apocalypse had taught him patience. It was something the Commission found to be a boon as well - there was nothing more deadly than a very patient predator on the hunt, after all.)

Klaus had told him that the apocalypse was an addiction, and Five had done his best to quit cold turkey.

He’d returned Dolores to her store, mourning what could never be between them. In darker moments, he wondered if she would have ever actually chosen him - in that imaginary world where they met on a crowded street by happenstance. They’d been forced together at the end of the world, and even though he loved her he wondered about things like choice and happiness and shared trauma. Them breaking up was the right thing to do, he knew that, he just hadn’t realized quite how much it would hurt.

So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Five sought comfort where he could. That he stole a record from Luther’s collection (it had gotten bigger, a passion pursued into adulthood which was one question answered) that he must have played dozens of times on that record player in their little sanctuary at the end of the world. That he slept on the floor instead of the bed that was far too soft in so many ways.

That he crept up to the roof and lay on his back and stared at the stars that were visible, remembering a sky filled with diamonds and a cool hand in his own and whispered hopes and dreams and secrets from one terribly lonely boy to the uncaring infinity of the cosmos.

And maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that it wasn’t long until he was discovered up there, gazing at the sky with such careful mourning carved across his face.

(He hated and feared the apocalypse, but he mourned it as well. It had raised him, in the harsh and terrible way that was all the apocalypse knew how to do. He’d been raised by Reginald Hargreeves and forged in bruises and thoughtless brutality, and then delivered into the arms of something else that didn’t care for him either.

He grew into a boy with careless cruelty and harsh criticisms and a love for his siblings that burned hotter and longer than any fire the apocalypse could produce. He grew into a man, or perhaps just something man-shaped, in starvation and desperation and terrible all-consuming loneliness.

Reginald had been fond of telling them, “You will learn through suffering.” It was something trotted out whenever the children were forced to skip meals or run up and down stairs until their insides twisted and they retched on the floor barely held up by burning thighs and weak knees. It was being tossed behind locked doors until they promised their unrelenting obedience to a man who had done nothing to deserve it.

If suffering was a teacher, then surely Five was one of the wisest people alive.)

“What are you doing up here?” Luther asks, too loud in the stillness of the night. Five doesn’t begrudge him it though, it wasn’t every day one was confronted by their teenage shaped brother laying listlessly on the roof at hours when everybody should be tucked away in bed.

“What are you doing up here?” Five parrots back, melancholy mood sharpening the edge of his words into something more pointed than he perhaps meant them to be.

Luther shuffles, looking awkward in his own skin as he so often does. It’s enough to make Five soften, just ever so slightly. After all, Luther isn’t exactly the only member of the house who feels alien in their own body.

Perhaps it’s cruel to take comfort in his brother’s discomfort. But perhaps Five is cruel. It isn’t the worst thing he’s been called in his life.

(No one speaks about the dinner where Five and Diego had been sniping at one another and pushing each other’s buttons where Diego had brought up Five abandoning the family. That had been his exact word - abandoning. Five had frozen and Diego had pressed on, snarling about Five not getting an opinion about Reginald because he’d ditched so early and left the rest of them to Dad’s tender mercies. He’d said far more, but the rest of that dinner was a blur of sound and colors for Five.

Diego had apologized over the incident and then proceeded to not look Five in the eye for the next week. The whole family were so good at picking at one another’s weak spots and hitting them hard and fast. It was practically second nature. They knew which points to leave alone when it came down to it for each other, but not for Five. Not yet.

They didn’t know him anymore. It was a work in progress navigating their respective minefields of trauma in the meantime.)

“I asked you first.” Luther says, childish statement bringing Five out of his own thoughts. At the end of the day, they are brothers.

And perhaps it is that brotherly spirit that prompts Five’s lips to quirk as he offers the equally childish response of: “I asked you second.”

Luther scowls, but he’s fully aware of exactly how stubborn Five could be. That’s Five, built out of spite and pettiness, who never knew how to just lay down and give up. But if he’d been any less himself, they would never be there that night on the roof irritating one another. The thought fills Five up with something that could almost be called fondness.

Luther crosses his arms, and looks away. “I like looking at the stars.” He admits haltingly, and it makes Five sit up from where he was still sprawled on the ground. “I just - on the moon - I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Five cuts in with a fierceness that surprises them both. Five doesn’t look at Luther, just the sky. “There’s not as many stars, here. Not that you can see. It’s supposed to look different, but what’s left is still comforting because the sky is a constant. Because the stars don’t really change, even when the rest of the world does.”

“Yeah.” Luther sounds surprised at Five’s insight. There’s a moment of hesitation before Luther is gently lowering himself down to sit on the roof a few feet away from where Five is. When Five dares to sneak a glance, Luther’s eyes are trained on the sky with an almost wistful look on his face.

“I know I’m not supposed to miss it,” Luther begins, and the thought sounds so much like what Five was just pondering that he can’t help but startle. Thankfully, Luther doesn’t see. “But - it was always my dream, you know? To go up there, into space. I know it was just a rejection now, that Dad didn’t want me around so he wouldn’t have to face his failure.” Luther’s face twisted as he spat out the last word. He’d taken it hard, learning that he was just as insignificant in the grand scheme of their father’s plans as the rest of them.

“But.” Luther continues, his face smoothing out, “It was still four years of my life. I had a routine. It was lonely, but god Five. The weightless feeling? The stars? The sunrises? There’s nothing quite like it.”

There’s a silence between them for a moment that Five decides to break. Because he’s trying, he really is.

“Sometimes,” Five says, so softly that Luther actually shifts closer to hear him, “Sometimes the apocalypse was beautiful. A decade or so in, when the plants just tentatively started realizing it was safe to grow again, and the weeds came back first. Just spots of green and bright yellow dotted through the cracks and crevices.”

(Five had spent many springs of his life wandering through the rubble, leaning down to pick dandelions to admire before he ate them. Even when he was terribly hungry, he’d never eaten all of them - always leaving some to mature and bring more the next year. Picking them up and blowing softly and remembering the first time he’d seen one - on a mission where Ben had quietly and excitedly informed them that they had to blow on it and make a wish. That he’d read about it in a book.

Five had made the same wish for forty some years. He wasn’t sure what he’d wish for now, now that it had come true.)

“And when the skies were clear, at night - the stars were beautiful.” Five admitted, Luther made a sound but Five ignored it to carry on because if he didn’t speak his mind now he might never. “There were so many Lu, way more than we ever saw out our bedroom windows. And on nights where the moon was just a sliver, there were even more. We’d lay out there for hours.”

Luther coughs. Five looks over and isn’t quite sure why there’s a guilty look on his brother’s face. “’We’ would uh, be you and uh, Dolores, right?”

Ah, that would explain it. Luther always got that look when Five brought up Dolores, no doubt thinking about when he’d held her out of a window as leverage to prevent Five from killing someone. Luther hadn’t known then, Five thinks, about exactly how much Dolores meant to him. He’d known she was important, but hadn’t known why. He hadn’t asked.

There’s nothing Five can do but nod though, in response to the question. “Yeah. She likes the stars, she’s always loved things that glitter.” It was why she loved sequins so much, and Five was secure enough to admit that he liked them as well.

There’s an awkward silence between them now, one that Five can’t help but try and break. “I tried to remember the constellations.” He blurts out, grasping at the connection the two of them had shared before it slips between his fingers and results in them quietly going to their rooms and forgetting this conversation ever happened.

He can’t look at Luther, not as he admits this. So he doesn’t, he turns his gaze upwards to the pinpricks of light. “Do you remember, when we were eight and Mom gave you that book of constellations? And you wouldn’t shut up about it for like, a whole month? You kept waking all of us up and dragging us to the roof and you said we had to listen to you because you were Number One?”

Luther surprises Five just a little by laughing, “Yeah! Yeah I do remember that. Diego threatened to throw me off the roof if I ever woke him up in the middle of the night again after the fourth time and I’m pretty sure Klaus learned morse code to complain about me to Ben.”

Five grins, “Nah, don’t flatter yourself. He learned morse code with Ben to gossip at dinner. Your little nighttime shows were just something else he could yell about in front of Dad without anyone the wiser.”

“Of course he did.” Luther just sounds exasperated at their most colorful sibling’s antics, which is a big improvement on how he would have felt about it when they were actually eight. “To be honest, I didn’t think any of you actually listened to what I was saying at the time. I’m surprised you remembered.”

Five shuffles, not exactly wanting to admit he doesn’t remember most of the content but not quite willing to lie to his brother either. “I only remembered bits and pieces. Some names, other shapes. Those three stars that make up that one dude’s belt or something.”

“You didn’t just find some astronomy book?” Luther asks, looking puzzled. He doesn’t look offended at least, that Five didn’t pay that much attention during those lectures so many years ago. To be fair, he’s had plenty of time to come to terms with the idea.

“It felt disloyal.” Five admits after a heartbeat, only half grudgingly. He isn’t exactly the king of heart to hearts, but there is something about Luther that seems to encourage them in him. Even during the stress of the days preceding the apocalypse weighing on him, it had been Luther who Five had told about finding their bodies and who Five had told not to waste his life.

Maybe it was the certain level of kinship between them, both of them trapped in bodies that they did not choose and did not want. Both of them left alone for years on end, having to relearn how to interact with the general populace. Luther was loyal where Five was rebellious, but they had enough common ground between them to be significant.

“Disloyal?” Luther’s tone isn’t quite questionioning, just offering a way for Five to continue his thought where he’d trailed off.

Five’s stomach squirms at the blatant emotion, but it would have to try a lot harder than that to stop him after he’d gotten used to the hollow aching pain of starvation. “I didn’t want to learn the constellations from a book.” He says, and it’s easier to admit to hopes and wishes in the dark with the stars above him. It’s familiar. It’s not Dolores next to him, but Luther isn’t half bad company when he’s by himself. “I wanted to learn them from you, except you weren’t around to ask anymore.”

Now that he’s out of that hellscape, he can half admit to himself that not allowing himself to pick up an astronomy book might have been him giving himself even more incentive to go back and fix things. Not that he needed it but - half of it might have also been a sort of punishment for abandoning his family to whatever fate left them buried in rubble and dead at the end of the world as well. Never let it be said that any of Five’s coping mechanisms were actually healthy.

There’s a silence where Luther mulls that over, before he opens his mouth with a soft expression, “I’m around now.”

It’s an offer and a question rolled into one. It’s not Luther immediately launching into a lecture assuming that’s what Five wants or needs at the moment, it’s him asking, which is an improvement all in itself. If Five was too raw tonight, he would accept that without a question and they could look at the sky in silence together until the dawn came.

The ball is in Five’s court.

“What - what’s the name of the dude with the belt?” Five asks, hesitant and careful and feeling as brittle as the porcelain vases that Reginald decorated the halls with.

Luther’s answering smile is bright and tender enough to hurt.

“His name’s Orion...” Luther explains, and Five closes his eyes and lets Luther’s voice wash over him. When he opens them, it seems like the stars twinkle just a tiny bit brighter than before.

Or that might just be his imagination.

#ask me #yeAH i volunteered to do a luther and five piece bc very few people wants to tag in for luther #look i'm not luther's biggest fan but he has some rights #then again i haven't seen s2 maybe he loses what few rights he has #but i can't help but draw parallels between his and five's experiences #me holding up luther: stinky but still good #tua #the umbrella academy #far tua long #long post #five hargreeves #number five #luther hargreeves #i don't THINK i posted this before but correct me if i'm wrong #should i put this on the masterlist ????? what would i even put it under idk #Anonymous #oneshots

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obae-me · 3 years

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LMAO, okay so what if they discovered that Diavolo (or his dad) was MC's dad? Like they get scared and then boom, wings and horns.

This idea is *chefs kiss*. I’m assuming since this was sent in when my requests were open ages ago that this is a headcanon idea so here we go! Thank you for your patience, finally you can have some Demon!Mc content!

These are Headcanons for the Brothers, but I like the idea so much I might come back later and write some for the Undateables.

The Prince of Hell is My Half Brother?

Everything had been normal at first. Well, as normal as living in a modern version of hell with some of the deadliest demons can be. Something about it all...felt...comforting. Although MC knew that couldn’t be the case, they were unaware of what it was that alluded to the feeling of home. MC’s roommates and protectors were a little grateful when the human settled in with relative ease in their otherworldly situation, but even they questioned how the mortal could accept it all so simply.

Diavolo himself had an idea of why. From the moment he first saw MC, something in his soul bound to them. He needed to test out this theory of his, but not by being direct, no, he would never get an authentic answer that way. Plus, it was no fun, and with his endless royal responsibilities, he felt he was due a little entertainment.

So, he conjured up another one of his toyful ploys. With the help of Barbatos, the residents of Purgatory Hall and the House of Lamentation were trapped in the coliseum. Slowly, one of the chambers raised its protective gates, unleashing a demonic monster. It wasn’t till MC felt their life threatened when the change happened, something about their prolonged exposure to magic and the Devildom’s atmosphere managed to finally bring out the secrets in them. Their skin burned and the air around them seemed to spark...and then...they had been changed. New wings, a set of horns?

A magical chain shot out from the empty room and dragged the creature back in, the metal gates slamming back down and locking itself into place. Diavolo and Barbatos seemed to show up out of thin air. The prince was booming in laughter while the butler tilted his head in amusement.

“So I was right! I had a feeling,” The Demon Lord started. “Right before he went into slumber, my father had this grand plan to try to create half demon hybrids, although...I thought it had been declared unsuccessful...but you…” Something shone in his eyes, something like he’d just found something he thought had been long lost. “You are my kin! My family! Human and Demon! Exactly the sort of thing to help bring all our worlds together!”

Lucifer

This man has not been surprised by anything in centuries, whether it be due to his wits or drastically low expectations. But this...he wasn’t even sure he was seeing correctly. The human he had thought was weak and fragile suddenly had one pair of leathery bat wings and a set of horns curling around the back of their head. And...what had Diavolo just said?...Family?...Half demon?

First off, he has to drag the young prince away for a disappointed and thorough review of this ridiculously dangerous plan of his. What if he had been wrong? What if the human--or...half human--had died?! Secondly, what did this mean for the exchange program now that it’d turned out the human wasn’t quite so human after all?

For the first time in a long while...he was unprepared how to handle this. Of course, Diavolo was elated and too caught up in the excitement of things to pay any mind to Lucifer’s woes.

This would be...an adventure…

He’ll admit, he tried ignoring it at first, hoping that if he simply kept MC under wraps and out of dangerous situations, they’d keep the demon half under control. However, those plans were quickly dashed when one evening they’d sneezed at dinner, their wings manifesting out of thin air and smacking Lucifer square in the face. With their awakened demon powers unchecked, their own worst danger was themselves. So there was only one thing left he could do.

He’d have to train them.

The thought of having to devote even more time to work nearly drove him mad, but he quickly discovered that the time teaching MC was...heartwarming. Satan had been so hell-bent on teaching himself when he grew into his own form that Lucifer hadn’t taken someone under his wings like this since the Celestial Realm. It rapidly got to the point where he’d look forward to his sessions with MC.

“You’re going to want to spread your wings wide and catch as much air under them as you can in one swoop. Flailing won’t get you anywhere,” Lucifer explained, feeling the half-human grip his hand tightly as they stood at the edge of the roof.

They squeezed their eyes shut with fear, but he could feel their heart pumping with adrenaline at the excitement. “What if I fall?”

“You won’t. But, on the chance you do, I’ll catch you.” He released their fingers and stepped off the ledge, falling down for the briefest of moments before his wings outstretched and he fluttered up, remaining stagnant in the same spot in the sky a few feet away from the precipice. “Alright, come on. Those wings aren’t just for decoration you know.” MC was wary, nearly petrified with fear. He sighed, reaching out his hand towards them despite being so far from them. “Trust me.” With a breath, they closed their eyes and pushed their body off the ground with a single flap. It was choppy, and the more they panicked, the more distressed their wings became. But they moved forward, eyes glued to the ground far below them. Once they were in reach of Lucifer’s hand, they pulled him close, face planted in his chest while clinging onto him for dear life. “See, you did it,” he beamed, chest swelling with pride.

The longer he held them against him, the more they were able to get used to how hovering felt, the more the fear melted away. They pulled apart from him, managing to stay level with him. “I...did...I’m-I’m flying.”

Their pure awe and obvious statement elicited a chuckle from him. “You are. Quite an experience isn’t it? Come along now, you still have those new extensions to break in, and let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like a peaceful soar under the stars.”

Under his tutelage, MC would have themselves under control in no time.

Mammon

Of course he was shocked, why wouldn’t he be?! His little human was...half demon? What was the point?! How was he supposed to protect them, to be the world to them, to...He felt a little betrayed. But then again...he took a moment to ponder this new discovery. Diavolo’s family? Royalty? The potential access to the Demon King’s funds?! He and his pact-mate were one small step away from the most Grimm he’s ever seen! He sulked for a little bit but then was perhaps the most excited of the bunch. Well, save for Diavolo.

The profits! The benefits! The schemes! Glorious treasures and buckets of money were all he could think about for a while. That was, until he noticed them nearly tripping on their own wings and getting things snagged in their horns. At the end of the day...this was still MC, still his...friend, and now it seemed he had more reason to protect them than ever.

But money was still on the table...if MC wanted it to be anyway.

As shocking as it was, he’d been taking a lot of the blame and brunt of MC’s mistakes. Wings accidentally popped out and broke a vase? He’d comforted them as they panicked and tried to convince Lucifer it was his doing. Horns manifesting themselves in the middle of the night and shredding their bedding? He’d pay for a replacement. After all, what kind of lousy ‘first’ demon could he be if he couldn’t even look after MC despite appearances? He was still pleased there were things he could do for them, that there was a reason to keep him around.

Half-demon or no, MC was still his “stupid human”.

Shaking his head, he allowed himself a heavy sigh and a shrug of his shoulders as he looked down at MC, struggling to free themselves from a tangle of curtains. However they got themselves in this position, only his father knew. Their wing was wrapped in the fabric and one of their horns snagged, unable to let them escape. “I thought I told ya to avoid dangly things till you can control this form of yours.” Despite his best attempts at looking disappointed, he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, his bubbly chuckles bringing a blush to MC’s embarrassed face.

“Don’t laugh, just help me out!”

“That’s notta very nice tone to have for the only person around to help, ya know,” he teased, smirking down at them with a glint in his eyes.

They groaned, tugging once again at the curtain that seemed to have a death grip on the rod despite their struggle. Their wing got bound tighter in the shift, causing them to wince and Mammon to drop his smile. “Mammon, please…”

He dropped to his knees and grabbed their face with his hand as he kept them steady. Tearing a bit at the hole they’d already made with their horn, he helped get their head free. MC wrapped their arms around his neck and pressed their face against his chest while he busied himself observing the mess they’d gotten themselves in. “Man, how’d you even manage this…? It’s gonna have to go.”

“The wing?!” MC shouted, eyes wide with fear.

“Nah, you silly human, the curtain.” Gripping the tear, he pulled his hands apart, the sharp sound of breaking seams cracking through the room. The bottom half of the drapes had successfully been separated. With it, MC already felt the pressure lessen. “There we are,” he announced, unwrapping them till they were finally free. MC stretched their wings and grinned with relief. “What would you do without the Great Mammon, huh?”

There would be plenty of mistakes to come, but Mammon would always be by their side to help them out of it...if he hadn’t helped get them there in the first place.

Levi

OMG are you kidding?! This is exactly like the plot in ‘I Had No Idea Who I Was Till I Awoke In A Strange Land And Now I Have Secret Powers! And Oh, Turns Out The Prince Is My Half Brother!’, it couldn’t get any closer than that! The twist! The shock! It was like he was living in a real life fantasy! (Apparently being a demon and constantly surrounded by magic and spells doesn’t quite fulfill his expectations)

Honestly, he’s having a little meltdown in his head, which is obvious to the others due to his fervent muttering and the eyes that never seem to focus. He thinks they’re cool already, so cool, but now they’re even better! Better than him! A cute human with now the powers and features of a demon, and technically a royal?! He can’t compete with that! How are they ever going to look at him the same again? They even have wings! He doesn’t have those! Envy hardly even begins to describe his feelings.

He needs to go have some time to cool down and clear his head, but when he comes back, he’ll be ready to call them a normie again.

His...fickle and crippling emotions drives him to avoid MC for a while. He doesn’t know how to approach them anymore. What if they’d suddenly changed? What if they didn’t need him or want him around? Endless what-if scenarios ran through his head, not even TSL seemed to help. But, he had to come out of his room eventually. If not out of sheer loneliness, because he’d finally ran out of health-items (aka food and water).

Besides...while he does his best to convince others that 2D is supreme, he can’t deny that he’s missed his friend, his Henry, immensely.

During one of his supposed “supply raids”, Levi passed MC’s room, peering in through the open door. It was mid-day, well into school hours, meaning everyone but him should be gone, but...MC was there, sitting on their bed. They scrolled through apps on their phone, refreshing, closing and opening the same apps over and over again before finally setting their D.D.D. aside. He noticed they looked...bored...and lonely. A moment like this would’ve been the perfect time to throw the door open wide and go comfort them...that’s what anime characters usually did...it’s something his brothers had no issue with. But his anxiety overwhelmed him, and he instead tried to speed past the door.

Apparently alongside their new features, MC had gained a keener sense of awareness. They quickly turned their head, watching the blur of him speed past their door. “Levi! Wait!” Dashing out into the hallway, their wing jammed against the doorframe, causing them to tumble to the floor. A sharp intake of air was sucked through their teeth, and Levi’s panic triumphed over his unease.

“MC! Hey, are-are you alright?” He got to his knees beside them, his hands hovering over them but not having the courage to follow-through.

“Y-yeah, I’m still not quite used to these yet,” MC frowned, curving their own wing around their body to rub at the sore spot.

Lip twitching, he focused on an interesting spot in the carpet before speaking. “S-so, why...why are you home and not at RAD?”

“Diavolo and Lucifer...thought it would be best that I stay at home until I get...adjusted,” They explained, their voice sounding low and distant.

There were so many things he wished he would’ve said. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘well, at least you aren’t alone’, ‘you’ll get the hang of things in no time’. But what he really said was, “O-oh.” And now here they were in some awkward silence. Somehow, Levi had come up with the idea that MC would now be one of the most popular people in the realm. Demons fawning over them, their life instantly changed, a life they didn’t need him in. But here they were, lonely like he was, stuck inside like he was. “D-do-do you,” he stuttered. “Do you want to hang out in-hang out in my room?”

A familiar smile painted onto their face, and it made his chest tighten. “If you’re okay with it, then sure!”

He’d missed them. “Okay! You remember that show we watched last week? They came out with a new episode! Oh, and-and some new figures I ordered arrived, you can help unbox them with me if you want!” He helped them rise to their feet. “But uh...I can’t have you knocking over things in my room…” He released his tail, blushing as he carefully wrapped it a few times around MC’s torso, keeping their twitching wings carefully pinned against their back.

Even though they’d transformed and been announced as Diavolo’s half-sibling...some things just didn’t change.

Satan

Very intrigued, so much so he began sputtering off questions immediately. How did this come about? How long is their lifespan? How powerful are they? What’s their soul like? How does the pact work? Are they resistant to demon and human weaknesses? Will they have some inheritance of the kingdom? He’s throwing out so many inquiries, even Diavolo has a hard time keeping up.

The only thing the prince could tell Satan was that he didn’t know. The prince had never come into contact with a demon/human offspring before, he wasn’t even sure if there were others out there. Even if there were, the hybrids themselves probably wouldn’t even know. After all, it wasn’t until their arrival to the Devildom till MC’s powers had been ignited. Satan, unsatisfied with the lack of information, decided that he’d have to record, document, and discover everything himself.

Which meant MC would hardly be out of his sight.

Someone has to almost restrain him from experimenting too much on them, but he’s practically vibrating with excitement. Unexplored knowledge, something new for him to pursue. He decides to start off easy and safe, and by that he means taking MC into his room to have a deep interview session with them, not letting them go till they’ve told him every aspect of their lives up till now. Not only did he learn a lot about them that day, but he remembered that despite his vast knowledge...there was too much he didn’t know.

Their updated appearance didn’t change his feelings about them, and he’d control his curiosity for the most part on behalf of their sake...and health. Although, not even Diavolo himself could get rid of the temptation completely.

“MC!” Satan exclaimed, bringing in an armful of items into their room with a genuine gleeful curl to his lips. He set things down on their bed, items that...MC was wary about, but it was so difficult to deny him this when he was so elated about the whole thing. Plus, he’d given them endless hours of attention, and MC would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t enjoy it. “Now, before we continue...what are your thoughts on poison?” Singling out a vial, he presented it to the exchange student. “Or rather, I suppose the proper term would be ‘being poisoned’.”

MC let out a loud exhale, shifting their shoulders as their wings twitched against them. “Satan, you know I’m very happy to help you with your research, but I’m not guzzling poison on the off chance that I have a resistance for it.”

He swiftly pulled out another tiny glass bottle. “Even if I have the antidote right here?” MC’s eyebrows lowered. “No? Alright,” Satan conceded, “We can come back to this later.” Next he put on a thick pair of oven mitts, pulling out a set of tongs as he tilted his head back and reached into the box. MC’s thoughts raced with ideas of what this dangerous item could be. And then...Satan pulled out a Holy Book.

“Wait, really? Just a book?” MC couldn’t help but huff over the irony of Satan being afraid of a book. “I’m pretty sure I’ve touched one before.”

His face scrunched up in annoyance at being teased. “It’s not just any old book, MC, it’s not like demons reel back at any mention of our father. This one has been blessed by Simeon.” The demon of wrath brought it over, holding it within reach. With that...MC hesitated a bit. They wouldn’t get burned right? They at one point had been blessed directly by the angel! Taking a deep breath, they held out a single finger, letting it drift slowly toward the cover. Breath held, teeth clenched, they touched the holy book with their fingertip. Nothing, not even a tingling sensation, however, in a bit of revenge, they reeled back, exclaiming as they cradled their hand near their chest.

Satan got so startled, he flung the book to the side, rushing over to grab MC’s wrist. “Hold on, hold on, let me see, let me-” He observed their skin, noticing no irritation, and then picked up on the mocking smirk on their face. Lowering his eyes and head, he took the hint. After all, even them just acting as if they were in pain reminded him that there was no way he could put them in danger. “You’ve bested me, no more tests…”

“No more dangerous tests,” MC corrected, watching him splutter as they booped the end of his nose with the finger they’d ‘burnt’.

Together, with his wits and MC’s patience, they’d discover what new surprises half-demon had to offer.

Asmo

Shrieking with surprise, Asmo nearly fainted. The sleek horns, the velvety wings! He’d already adored MC from the get-go but now he was obsessed. He ran over and jumped up and down in excitement, begging to touch their new features. With permission, he ran his hands all over them. The horns were smooth, sharp, but he could tell they weren’t as strong as they should be, like newborn demon horns. The wings were powerful, beautiful. He ran his hand over the sheer skin and heard MC gasp. Extremely sensitive, as they should be.

Did someone say shopping spree? Because he did! They’re going to need new clothes for their form. He can’t stand to see them try to tuck their wings under their usual shirts, and of course they’d have to replace a few outfit casualties as they’d been either rendered to shreds or riddled with holes. Getting stuff done with their new demon features is a whole new ballgame than they’re used to!

But they had nothing to worry about, Asmo is there to teach them all about their new body.

MC, of course, is a bit embarrassed at first, but without having anyone else to really depend on, and having zero knowledge on this type of stuff, they look to him for help with the delicate things. He helps them get dressed till they’re used to it. He helps wash and clean them, teaching them proper methods for horn and wing care/hygiene. Most of all, he really assures them that what they’re feeling is natural. Ever since the transformation, their wings have been twitchy and their horns have been infuriatingly irritated.

He sympathizes, he remembers what it was like, he remembers the shock of it all. If only he had someone there to help him and his brothers through it when they’d changed. He won’t let that stress happen to MC, it’s not healthy!

The scraping and scratching could be heard from outside their room. Asmo’s chest filled with pity. As he opened the door, he observed them rub their horns against the bed frame. Gashes and missing chunks ruined the carved wood. As much as it pained him, he found himself scolding the exchange student anyway. “MC!” He’d left for just a few minutes, a few! And already they’d begun to do exactly what he warned them not to do.

Eyes watery, they looked up to him with a painful expression on their face. “It won't stop, Asmo!”

He pursed his lips, unable to be too harsh when he knew how irritating growing horns could be. “I know, darling, but your poor bed!” Placing down the things he’d brought over, he squatted down in front of them and cupped their cheek as he turned their head from side to side. “And your poor horns!” The top thin layer coating the new pesky things sticking out of their head now had small splinters of wood stuck in them. He tutted at MC, glad he’d had the foresight to bring along tweezers. Gently, he guided them up to their bed, sitting behind them as he began to pluck the splinters out. Anytime his hands got close, MC instinctively moved to bump their horns against him. “Try not to move, darling, the faster I get these out the faster you’ll feel better.”

“I’m sorry, Asmo,” MC groaned, tightening their neck and shoulders as they focused on remaining still.

“Nothing to worry about, dear. You’re taking this new beautiful form of yours extremely well, all things considered.” Once the last sliver of wood had been removed, he brushed his hands over their smooth horns, rubbing the base of them between his fingers. They jutted their head against his hands, taking a deep breath at the sensation. But he wasn’t done yet, he’d brought over some special solution to encourage horn growth. Smearing the mixture in his hands, he then began to massage it into the new protrusions. They melted into his touch, grateful for some relief, but eventually gasping when the touch of his soft skin was exchanged with an odd firmness. Nearly purring, Asmo had changed into his own demon form to rub his horns against MC’s. It was like finally being able to scratch that one itch just out of their reach. “Better?” He cooed, giggling when all MC could do was hum in response, shifting their head up and down, faces side to side as they worked to rub their horns together at every angle.

Demon form? Human form? He loved MC either way with everything in between, and he hoped he could help them feel that way too.

Beel

He started off more concerned than anything. Was he one of the only ones upset that they had been locked away and almost attacked in order to get this result? In fact, while everyone was taking their time with their own reactions and revelations, he went over to MC and made sure they felt safe. They’d been frightened enough to change without meaning to, and the added swarm of information and the shock of the sudden change drove them into a fit. Making sure they were okay was more important than discussing their new looks.

Once everyone had settled and Beel made sure MC was home and comfortable, then he started thinking more about it. Does that mean they were stronger than normal humans? Could they start to do more things demons could do? He started thinking about all the foods he adored but were deemed poisonous to humans. Maybe they could eat those! He could share some of his favorites! But...he didn’t want to risk it.

Without knowing for sure what they could and could not handle, he’d continue to treat MC as if they were a normal human anyway, which MC greatly appreciated sometimes.

Although, Beel quickly discovered that continuing to act like MC was still a typical human...wouldn’t quite work out in his favor either. MC had quickly started to figure out what they were capable of, spiraling more and more out of control the more invincible they felt they’d become, which almost gave this boy a heart attack. Once, they’d figured out they could climb walls, but ended up getting their claws stuck in the ceiling and had to wait for Beel to tug them free. Another time, he’d walked in just in time, pulling MC away just before they could grab onto one of Satan’s cursed books.

He’d have to watch them like a hawk to make sure they didn’t accidentally dive headfirst into danger.

“Where’s MC?” Beel asked his twin, returning from a trip to the kitchen, the remnants of his snack still remaining on his chin.

Belphie looked up from his pillow, eyes still glazed over with sleep. “Hmm? Oh...they must’ve left.” As he yawned and blinked away tired tears, the demon of sloth shrugged. “Last I remember, they said something about wanting to pet a puppy.” Nestling back into his pillow, he grumbled. “But they know...Lucifer won’t let us have any...ani...” And then he was back asleep.

Beel wiped away the last few crumbs off his face, licking them off of his fingers before feeling a jolt of panic. No! Certainly MC hadn’t meant…! Bolting, he rushed past some of his brothers with the intensity and muscle of a charging bull. Luckily, he caught up to them just as they attempted to go inside the crypt that was home to big grumpy Cerberus. He didn’t even give MC a chance to notice him before he grabbed them by the back of their shirt and slung them over his shoulder, one arm pinning their wings to their back so they couldn’t struggle.

“B-Beel, wait! I just wanted to play with him! Hey! Hold on!” Their pleas were falling on deaf ears, but they were stronger than he remembered, allowing them to break free and leave him staggering for just a moment. That moment was long enough for them to fly up to the rafters, a frisky shimmer reflecting off their eyes.

Beel folded his arms, starting off with a stern stare. “MC, it’s too dangerous.”

“I can handle it! I know it! Please, Beel?” He watched them leap from beam to beam, his heart thumping wildly with every movement. “I just have this energy! This urge to do something crazy!” He blinked, taking in the words for a moment before realizing that all his hand-holding and protectiveness had stifled them and bottled up all their demonic urges till they finally boiled over. Everyone had been so focused on all the other aspects that he forgot how badly demons loved to just play.

His face fell as he felt disappointment in himself for not noticing soon enough. He needed to stop constantly fearing for them. Then, he raised his head, nodding to them as he spoke. “Tackle me,” he stated.

MC tilted their head. “What?”

“Tackle me. Come at me as hard as you can. You won’t hurt me, I promise.” MC took some time to think, before a lively smile formed on their face. They dived from the rafters towards him, skidding against the floor as Beel avoided them with a single side-step. Beel gave MC a moment to figure out that he’d dodged before running away. Of course, he wasn’t at his full speed, giving MC a chance to catch up easily. He’d almost made it all the way up to his own room before a heavy weight threw itself on his shoulders. It wasn’t enough to send him to the floor, but he had to catch himself from falling over. MC crawled over him, playful growls rumbling in their chest as they continued to try to force him to the floor. “Not quite,” Beel laughed, pulling them off of his body and placing them aside. “Let’s try again.”

Until it got out of they’re system, Beel hoped he could be a suitable replacement for all the chaotic things they wished to do.

Belphie

The first thing he did when he caught eyes on MC was blink and then sigh. What a crazy dream he was having. Getting trapped in the colosseum, almost getting mauled on by a fierce monster? And now MC was before him with wings and horns and Diavolo had just announced that he was essentially MC’s half brother? Yeah right. Someone needed to wake him up already, this dream was getting too weird.

It wasn’t till they all got home and got a good night’s sleep till he realized it was real. Waking up to go to breakfast and see that they still were having a hard time with their form? It wasn’t a dream...they were...half demon?

These crazy feelings and questions had already left him exhausted, and he just had gotten up from a solid 14 hours of sleep.

It takes him a while to adjust, after all, he’s got some baggage from events best-not-mentioned, and this new predicament has left him feeling pretty guilty. Although, something about it gives him hope. At one point, he’d adored the human world, and seeing that the human he’d begun to adore was also half demon? Maybe it was a sign that humanity wasn’t so terrible after all. Maybe Diavolo was right about the whole...peace between worlds thing, as tiring as it sounded. As long as he didn’t have to do much about it, he didn’t mind. It didn’t affect him much, right? He could still sleep. However...cuddling with MC now proved to be more of a hassle than usual. Whether their wings would pop out at random times and push him away, or their horns ending up almost poking an eye out, he wanted to find a solution quickly.

The one thing he refused to give up was comfortable naps with MC.

“Beeelllphiiie,” they whined. “I want to go to bed, this isn’t necessary.”

He ignored them, trying to push past the fact that he found them especially adorable when they were tired. But he felt it was absolutely necessary, after all, this was the third time those pesky horns of theirs nearly left a scratch mark on his cheek. He couldn’t believe how inconvenient this was for him. (He’s kinda a brat like that, but he does his best) He continued to work, pulling multiple fluffy socks over their horns, stuffed with layers of the filling from the pillow they’d accidently torn open. “I’m almost done.”

“Belphie!” MC shook their head, reaching up in an attempt to remove his work. “It feels weird.”

Grasping their wrists, he frowned. “So does getting poked with these in the middle of the night,” he quipped. His exasperation quickly turned into smug laughter as he observed his handiwork. With a palm, he squeezed the new protection over MC’s horns, unable to feel the sharpness of them.

MC vigorously shook their head again, but the padding stayed. “I don’t like it.”

“Then learn to control your form,” he retorted, dragging them back over to bed, holding in laughter again as they stumbled, the added weight to their head throwing them off balance.

They didn’t take kindly to all his back talk and cheekiness. Grabbing his pillow from their bed, they decked him over the head with it. “If you can’t be nice, you can leave,” MC huffed, crawling back into bed with their back turned to him, attempting to find a comfortable position. Their lack of decent sleep after this whole thing had happened had left them in a grumpy mood. That, and well, maybe he did push things too far.

“I’m sorry.” From sour to sweet in seconds. He sat on the bed, pressing his hand against their shoulder blades. “I know you can’t help it. It must be uncomfortable, huh?” He could recall what it was like, his horns and new tail had bothered him for quite some time after the change. He rubbed their back and shoulders, pleased with himself when MC turned over on their other side to face him.

“I’m so tired,” they whispered.

“I know.” Belphie pulled the covers back over them, settling in his own spot beside them before giving their fluffy horns one last squeeze. “Let’s get some sleep.”

If there was anything he could help with, it was the luxury of comfort. Until MC settles back into their own skin, he’ll make the transition as cozy for them as possible.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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kpop-cakepops · 3 years

Note

hi !! i just thought of this really specific prompt where you and your best friend wonwoo go donate blood but afterwards he feels realllyyy sick and lightheaded so you hold onto him and help him walk bc he’s barely able to stand up. then you take him home to his bed and while trying to help him lie down, he kinda just passes out on you and he’s too heavy to move and you’re also rly tired so you kinda both just cuddle and fall asleep together

Hi Hi! This one sounds fun! Sorry I'm a bit late! I was a bit busy with my shop today! Enjoyyyy! (also I didn't get a chance to edit this so pls excuse any mistakes made)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,328

Genre: Fluff

Snuggle Donation// Jeon WonwooxFem!Reader

"Have I ever told you I hate blood?" asked Wonwoo as he cautiously walked out of the taxi and waited for his best friend to pay the fee for him.

"Yeah, like 20 times on the way to the clinic and 20 times on the way back home" Y/N assured him lightly. Her eyes watching him closely.

"You really don't look good, Woo. Do you need me to help you up to your place?"

He shook his head adamantly. "No. Absolutely not. I'm fine!" However, it took only two steps for the young man to go stumbling into the pole right in front of him.

"WOO!" Y/N'S arms flailed in surprise as she watched the tall man drop to the ground with a whine. "Are you okay?! Oh my goodness!"

"I'm fine! I'm fine! I just tripped is all!"

"Yeah right. I knew this was going to happen. I just knew it. Wonwoo, when I told you to come with me to donate blood, I meant I would be doing the donating and you'd be doing the moral supporting. I know you better than I know myself, you're deathly afraid of needles and blood" The young woman's annoyed grumbles were hushed by Wonwoo's chest as she awkwardly tried to help his weakened limbs into the apartment complex.

"It was for a good cause" he retaliated, but Y/N knew it was about more than that. "I wanted to be a good citizen"

"Being a good citizen shouldn't equal to your fear reflex causing your blood pressure to drop so much you get SICK!" Y/N's continuous nagging caused her best friend to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, okay mom"

"Shut up" she snapped and pressed the button to his floor, people in the elevator looking at the two of them dubiously. "He's not drunk. He's just an idiot" Y/N assured but it didn't exactly help with the looks.

After what would probably mark Y/N's most difficult 5-yard walk ever, the two friends arrived at the tall man's door. "Where's your key?"

He smiled shakily. "Back pocket"

"Jesus Christ. You seriously owe me for this. I'm being so serious right now. You're gonna owe me so much you won't be able to pay me back ever."

She slowly moved her hand to the back of his jeans, carefully pushing her hand into his back pocket only to freeze when a loud gasp interrupted her from behind. "Oh my... Y/N, I didn't take you for a public loving kind of girl, my god. I get that we all know you two are lowkey getting it on, but wowza, aren't you two being a little bit bold?"

The embarrassed girl didn't even have to look over her shoulder to know exactly who was standing behind them. "You have got to be kidding me. Hey Seokmin, how about instead of standing there being an idiot, you help-"

"No no, I am really sorry about this. I won't get in your way. Don't you worry a single bit. Oh and Hyung? Just a word of advice, don't be silly... wrap the willy." Y/N could hear the smirk in Seokmin's voice as he slowly retreated until eventually, all she could hear was the ding of the elevator doors opening. "Goodbyeeeeeeeee lovebirds"

"LEE SEOKMIN!"

"Let him go. He's an idiot. He won't come back. He's got too much 'tea to spill' as he likes to say." Wonwoo warned. "I'm seriously about to pass out here. Can you please hurry it up?"

"Wow. Just wow. I could drop you here and leave, you know that right?" Her empty threats were met by Wonwoo's uncharacteristic playfulness.

"You love me too much to do that."

The flustered girl refused to acknowledge his little tease as she finally managed to push his front door open. The struggle to keep her best friend on his feet did not lessen as she huffed and puffed moving him little by little into his bedroom.

"You are heavier than I ever thought you'd be" she admitted.

"It's all muscle mass" he smirked.

It irked her that even when he wasn't feeling his best he still managed to retort. "You're seriously annoying, ever tell you that?"

There was no further opportunity for him to answer her, it seemed that what little energy her best friend had been running on was gone. He went absolutely limp on her causing her to fall onto the bed with the very tall and very heavy man on top of her. "Oh my god. Oh my God. Oh my god." Y/N cursed internally as she felt her friend snuggle his face straight into the crook of her neck causing her skin to erupt with chilling goosebumps.

"Jeon Wonwoo" her tone was stiff as she attempted to push him off her. "No, seriously, Wonwoo I can't get you off me." All she received in response was an annoyed grunt from her sleepy friend and yet another uncalled for dose of snuggles.

Y/N had done her fair share of activities with Wonwoo. Anything from reading, to people watching, to skiing in Japan, you name it, she'd done it... but cuddling? With Wonwoo?! Out of question! Never done it, never wanted to do it... or so she thought because as she continued to lay there under him an inexplicable feeling of comfort began to take over her. The slow and steady breathing of the giant boy that lay on her lulling her slowly until eventually she too surrendered to sleep...

"HYUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNG!!!!"

However, that peaceful sleep was brought to an end 2 hours later by the same obnoxious voice that had caught Y/N with her hand deep in her best friend's back pocket.

Seokmin.

Both Y/N and Wonwoo stirred in their spot in the bed. They had somehow unknowingly shifted so Wonwoo was now lying next to her with a long arm draped over her top half, legs tangled in a sleepy mess. Anyone that happened to walk into the two of them would fOr sure get the wrong idea.

Seokmin was that anyone.

Wonwoo didn't even stand up to explain or even usher him out of the room. Instead, he grabbed the remote that was closest to him and flung it right at Seokmin's head. "I thought you said you weren't going to interrupt!" He hissed.

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU TWO WERE ACTUALLY GETTING IT ON IN THE DOWN LOW?!" Seokmin's exclamation made Y/N shift.

"No one's getting anything on. I just happened to fall asleep." She grunted as she tried to pull herself up, but Wonwoo's arms held her down and against him.

"Get out, we're tired."

Seokmin's eyes got big in realization. Wonwoo was being serious. Seokmin could see it in the way his older friend's face flushed flustered. "I- okay..." the soft smile on Seokmin's face serving to assure Wonwoo that what he had just seen would remain between the three of them.

Y/N shifted in Wonwoo's hold as soon as she heard his front door click shut in the distance. "Um, hey Woo? You can let me go now."

"No, it's warm this way," he said. "I like it."

Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly. "Uh, okay. That's okay... then." She squeaked as she nestled back into position. Her mind was racing as she felt her Best Friend snuggle back into her.

Wow, he smells good... he's so soft... since when was Wonwoo warm?

"Go back to sleep" Wonwoo murmured, his words slightly slurred letting her know he'd be sleeping again at any moment.

"Uh yeah... I'm trying" she lied.

Y/N wasn't sure what was going on or why she was liking the way they were both lying in a tangle of limbs, all she could gather in her just awoken mind was that she really liked cuddling and that she could use a few visits to the gym in the future.

#Best friend Wonwoo #Jeon Wonwoo #Wonu #Seventeen #SVT #Jeon Wonwoo AU #Jeon Wonwoo fluff #Wonwoo imagines #wonwoo au #wonwoo fluff #Seventeen imagines #Seventeen au #Seventeen fluff #Wonwoo x Reader #Wonwoo Seventeen #Boyfriend Wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #Jeon Wonu

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starshine583 · 3 years

Text

New Girl on the Block (21)

(Sorry for the late update, guys! Yesterday was CRAZY for me. Actually, this whole MONTH has been crazy! I haven’t been able to write in weeks :’( but thankfully, I’ve pre-written a few chapters so I can still post an update today. I hope you all are doing well and don’t forget to check out the mini series connected to this called Journal Entries!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 20 / Ch. 22 (ao3)

Chapter 21: Elementary

Felix eyed the Dupain-Cheng bakery as he stepped out of his limo and onto the pavement. The open sign hung neatly on the front door, and behind it, the lights shined brightly inside. M Dupain-Cheng was manning the register from the looks of it, which meant Marinette either wasn’t home or wasn’t working. Both scenarios would suit him fine.

After a swift ‘thank you’ to his driver, Felix walked over and pushed open the bakery door. The entrance was noticeably different from the first time he visited- no mulling or fussing over manners and such -but the warmth that came with the charming patisserie was the same. Scents of cinnamon and vanilla wafted through the air, and the bright chattering of M. Sabine was as light as the customer bell that rang above his head when he came in.

A usual Sunday for the Dupain-Cheng household, he mused.

M. Sabine caught his eye in an instant, her smile brightening as she shooed off her current customer. The customer didn’t appear to be happy about it, but she clearly didn’t mind, because she continued beckoning Felix over to the register with a wave of her hand.

Felix strolled over as requested and managed not to tense too much when M. Sabine pulled him into a hug.

“Felix, it’s so good to see you!” She trilled. “What can I get for you? A croissant? A cupcake? Or are you here to see Marinette?”

Felix offered a small smile. “The last one. Is she home?”

“She is! Just take those stairs up- oh, but you know how to get up there already. You’ll find her in her room, but I advise you to tread lightly. She’s been working on some projects non-stop for the last two days.”

Felix hummed. Has she now?

“Thank you very much. I’ll be sure to buy some sweets for my mother on the way out.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! Tom and I can get a bag ready for you while you’re up there. No charge necessary!”

Felix chuckled softly and shook his head. Marinette truly did inherit her generosity.

“That’s quite alright. I have plenty of money.”

“As do we. Now go on up before Tom finds you and gives you another bear hug.”

The comment was enough to send Felix scurrying up the stairs (in a dignified fashion, of course). Tom was a wonderful man, but his bear hugs were.. not exactly something Felix would actively seek out.

He glided through the familiar hallways of the apartment complex until he found Marinette’s, then quietly walked inside towards the attic stairs, taking care not to bump or touch anything that would alarm her. If Marinette became aware of his presence, she might find time to panic.

Or hide things.

Felix climbed that attic stairs and lightly knocked on the trapdoor, waiting for an absent invitation to enter. Hopefully, her parents knocked when they came to her room too, or she was going to guess rather quickly that he wasn’t her father or mother.

“Come in!” A muffled voice called, to his relief. She didn’t suspect a thing.

He pushed open the trapdoor and climbed inside quickly, his eyes darting around the room before anything could be touched. Various things were scattered across her floorboards and furniture, namely things like unrolled fabrics or loose spindles of thread. She’d clearly been working on something, but what? How was he supposed to find anything in this explosion of colors?

Thanks, Claude.

Marinette gasped, bringing his gaze back to her.

“Felix!” She yelped, that predictable panic washing over her features. She shot up from her rolling chair and snapped her gaze from left to right as her hands flailed a bit behind her. It was almost like she couldn’t decide what to protect or where to escape. Did that mean the entire room was somehow a clue or only part of it?

Felix straightened, giving her a small, innocent smile. “Good afternoon. I hope I’m not.. interrupting anything.”

“Uh- No, no! I was just-” Marinette’s gaze flicked over her shoulder “-You know. Working on Claude’s.. Suit. What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t been responding to my texts,” He said idly, scanning the room again for good measure, “so I thought I’d come check on you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Marinette’s surprise melt into annoyance.

“You mean your texts about the surprise?” she asked flatly.

Felix held back a smirk.

“Hm? You mean the surprise you mentioned offhand two days ago? Yes, I suppose some of them were about that.”

“You know this is cheating, right?”

“Cheating?” Felix nearly gasped. “I don’t recall setting any rules.”

“I thought it was a given!” Marinette huffed, though he caught the corners of her lips twitching upwards.

“Clearly not,” He replied with a smirk, “but by all means, if you have rules, I would be delighted to know them. I want to win knowing you had all of the advantages.”

Marinette scoffed, giving him a playful eye roll. “Well, first off, you can’t ambush me like this. If you come in while I’m working on the surprise, then of course you’re going to know what it is.”

“Are you working on the surprise?” Felix inquired, tilting his head to see what was on the desk behind her.

“No, but that’s not the point.” Marinette said, blocking his view from her desk anyway.

“Alright, then what should I depend on for my guess?” He asked in turn. “You’re words? You could be lying or giving misleading information, and if you did tell the truth, I highly doubt you’d give me any clues that you thought would help me.”

“True,” Marinette agreed, “but the bet was to have you guess the surprise.”

“An educated guess is a guess all the same.”

“An educated guess is an assumption based on prior knowledge and experiences.” She pointed out. “If you see my surprise, you won’t be guessing what it is from things you saw beforehand. You’ll just know what it is because you saw it directly.”

Felix hummed. That was a good loophole.

“So are you saying that the surprise is easy to make out once you see it?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Oh, so it’s not easy to make out?”

“Felix!”

Felix laughed. “So you want me to make a deduction based on what I already know about you? Is that correct?”

Marinette eyed him for a moment, seeming to search for a trick in his words, then sat down in her rolling chair again. “Yes.”

Felix nodded thoughtfully and walked over to the chaise, gingerly moving scraps of cloth and a stray, bush pin holder aside so he could sit down as well.

“Alright, let’s see.. What do I know about Mlle Marinette Dupain-Cheng? I know you are creative.. Thoughtful.. Clever.. Minorly obsessed with giving gifts.. And work mostly in the clothes district, though that doesn’t mean you can’t make other things such as dolls or fake jewelry.”

Marinette snorted, an amused smile crossing her lips. “Go on.”

“You’re also empathetic and incredibly intuitive, picking up on the things around you without a second thought while also managing to run into a pole that’s directly in front of your face.”

“Hey!”

“My point is,” Felix continued slyly, “you’re clumsy in your walk, but not your work. If you made this bet with me, you’ve no doubt guessed where I would look and tried to counter that already. The gift is either hidden where you know I won’t look for sake of privacy or out in plain sight where you don’t believe I’ll see it as odd.”

“How do you know it’s even in this room?”

He smiled. “Your anxiety. Putting the box in any other place would have you fretting constantly over who’s touching it or whether it’s been moved. Your bedroom is the one place you can hide it while also watching over it unceasingly.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, apparently impressed, and it only made his smile widen. He’d been spot on, hadn’t he? The surprise was in her room!

“That’s very cute and all, but you still haven’t guessed what the surprise is,” She retorted, crossing her arms, “or who it’s for.”

Felix tilted his head in a nod. “Alright, let’s go through the possibilities. You have Claude, Allegra, Allan, and myself. Anyone else wouldn’t make sense as a surprise.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because otherwise you wouldn’t feel the need to keep it a secret.” He pointed out. “You’re keeping this a surprise because you don’t want the person being surprised to find out prematurely, yes? So telling me would only jeopardize that if it were myself or someone I’m with regularly, which is Claude, Allan, Allegra, and you, and you can’t exactly surprise yourself-”

“I could. You never know.” Marinette joked.

Felix chuckled. “Sure, but it would be highly unlikely. Moving on, I don’t think it would be Claude, Allan, or Allegra either, because, as you know, I don’t enjoy blabbing my mouth to others. If you were surprising one of them, you most likely wouldn’t have hesitated to tell me what the surprise was. There is the possibility that you’re just being extra careful, but I highly doubt it.”

“Therefore, in conclusion, you’re left with me.” He finished.

Marinette hummed, setting her elbow on her desk and leaning her head on her palm. “So you think the surprise is for you?”

“It’s my leading theory.”

“I see. Might I ask why I would make a surprise for you?”

“That wasn’t part of the bet.”

Marinette snorted. “What if I don’t want to tell you because I don’t feel like it? I don’t have to tell you everything about my life, Felix.”

“No,” he agreed, though a part of him would like her to, “but you wouldn’t have made the bet if you didn’t want me prying, now, would you?”

“Maybe I’m just a poor planner.”

Felix simply raised an eyebrow. Marinette’s plans might not work out the way she wants them to on occasion, but she certainly wasn’t a poor planner.

Her smile widened, clearly catching onto what he was thinking. “It could always be a possibility.”

Felix lightly scoffed and leaned back on his palms, his gaze sweeping over Marinette’s bed up top. It was neatly made, with nothing else surrounding it but a stray glass of water. That probably meant the surprise was on the lower portion of her room, since it would be hard to keep something hidden in a clean space. Could it be in one of her chests, perhaps? Or was he going to have to unravel one of her fabric rolls to find it?

“Perhaps I’m putting too much faith in you, but-”

A yawn cut off Felix’s remark, and he blinked at Marinette as she stretched out her free arm. Her posture was practically slumped against the desk, her cheek sagging against her palm as she slid further into it. Was she.. tired?

“Are you alright?” He asked, leaning forward to get a better look at her. Had those bags under her eyes been there this whole time?

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” She pulled herself back into a sitting-up position, attempting to rub the grogginess off of her expression. “I just hadn’t realized how tired I was until I stopped working.”

Felix frowned. “When did you last sleep?”

“Uh.. What day is it again?” She glanced down at her computer. “Saturday.. I think I got some sleep yesterday morning.”

“Yesterday Morning?” He repeated, flabbergasted. M. Sabine had mentioned Marinette working non-stop on her projects, but he didn’t think she meant it literally. “Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

She offered him a half shrug. “I didn’t mean to stay up this long. I just keep getting into the zone with Claude’s suit, and it makes time fly by.. Plus, my insomnia was getting to me again. So, I figured: Why roll around in bed relentlessly when you can do something productive?”

“You need to rest.”

Marinette tossed her hand in his direction. “Nah. What I need is to go get one of my mocha frappuccinos. Actually, can you get it for me? It’s downstairs in the fridge.”

“I’m not getting you a frappuccino,” Felix stated flatly, “but I’ll get you some water. Have you eaten anything today?”

“Uh.. I think I ate a macaron sometime this morning?”

Felix sighed and stood up from the chaise. Why was he not surprised?

“I’ll find something for you to eat then as well.”

“Felix, you really don’t have to do that.”

“No, but I’m going to. You can’t work on a project while you’re half-dead, after all. It’ll only lead to mistakes.”

“What are you talking about?” Marinette drawled. “Being half-dead is when most of my inspirations come to life!”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, though a small smile tugged at his lips. Sometimes he forgot how much of a mess Marinette could be.

“I’ll be right back.” He said, pulling open the trapdoor.

Since Tom and Sabine were still working, the main housing area was empty, so Felix was able to slip down into the kitchen without a problem.

He went to the fridge first, though he wasn’t entirely sure what to give her. M. Sabine told him to ask her for snacks if they needed any, but she would probably only bring them sweet treats. Marinette hasn’t eaten anything but a macaron since this morning, so she needed something healthy. Would fruit work? What kind of fruits did she like? He’s seen an orange in her pre-made lunch every now and then, but did they have any oranges here?

He closed the fridge and glanced at the counters. They were mostly covered with kitchen utensils, but he did spot a bowl of apples and oranges on the island, along with a few bananas on a hook nearby.

Perfect.

He snatched one of each fruit, then got a cup from the cabinet and filled it with as much water as he could. Hopefully it wouldn’t spill on his way back up.

With food and water in hand, Felix carefully trudged back up the stairs to the trapdoor. He switched all of his fruit over to one arm and pushed the trapdoor open, keeping a watchful eye on the water while doing so.

“Marinette, do you like oranges more or..” Felix trailed off as his eyes landed on Marinette again. She was slumping in her chair now, and her eyes were completely closed while her head was tilted to the side at an odd angle. If that didn’t bring him to the realization that she was sleeping, the snore that came a few seconds later certainly did.

Felix almost laughed as he continued into the bedroom. She fell asleep? Within the two seconds that he was gone??

“Marinette, you truly are incredible.” He whispered to himself, setting the water and fruit on her desk. Should he wake her up? She’ll probably be embarrassed if she finds out she fell asleep while he was there, especially after claiming she wasn’t that tired.

..On the other hand, leaving her be might give him a bit of an advantage..

Felix smirked, carefully tip-toeing away from her sleeping figure. Where was she looking when he mentioned the surprise again?

~~~~~~~

Marinette squirmed under her blanket, twisting herself to become more comfortable on the fluffy material underneath her. She’d forgotten how soft her chaise was, or how the memory foam helped her sink into it just right.. Maybe she should try sleeping on this more ofte-

Wait a minute.

Marinette cracked an eye open, glancing around her room with a frown. Since when was she lying down on the chaise? Hadn’t she been sitting in her rolling chair a moment ago? With-

“Felix!” she gasped, lurching upwards. Where was he? Did she fall asleep while he was in her room? Why didn’t he wake her up? Was he still in the house?

Marinette threw off her blanket and stood. She didn’t see him anywhere in her room, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t there. He could be downstairs in the living room, or talking with her parents in the bakery. Did he see anything while she was asleep? What if he found the small cans of paint behind her fabrics? Would he be able to figure out the surprise from that? What if he found the surprise itself?!

Seized with panic, Marinette raced up the ladder that led to her bed, then scaled the next ladder that led to her balcony. She threw open the trapdoor and poked her head outside, glancing around again.

The platform was empty, thankfully. No Felix in sight. And the little pot in the corner next to her beach chair looked to be untouched as well.

Marinette let out a relieved sigh and walked over to the pot, carefully picking up the fake plant that she’d placed on top of it. Inside, past the plastic that covered the top in case of rain, she saw her package sitting snugly, right where she’d left it. Thank goodness she decided to hide it the night before, otherwise Felix would have won their bet as soon as he stepped inside her bedroom.

Marinette put the fake plant back where it was supposed to be, making sure the plastic wasn’t visible anymore, and stood up to scan the road. Felix’s car wasn’t on her street, which probably meant he went home, but that didn’t mean she was safe just yet.

“Tikki!” She called as she climbed back down into her room. It was a nasty trick he played, visiting her home unannounced, but in hindsight, she probably should have expected it. If Felix was going to guess the surprise, he needed more information on it, and how else was he going to get information (aside from herself, who was currently ignoring his messages)? Her house, where the surprise- and any clues pertaining to it -would naturally be.

Tikki zipped up to Marinette almost immediately. “Yes, Marinette?”

“Do you know how long I was asleep?”

Her kwami hummed, briefly turning to find a clock. “I’d say about.. Two hours?”

“Two hours?” Marinette repeated, horrified. Imagine what Felix could have done in that amount of time!

“Did Felix find anything about the surprise?”

“Not that I know of,” Tikki answered, to Marinette’s relief, “He started to look around for a bit, then decided against it, I guess, and left you a note before leaving himself.”

Marinette’s eyebrows knitted together slightly. “A note?”

Tikki nodded. “It’s on your desk.”

Marinette turned around to scan the bottom of her room again, indeed spotting a piece of paper on the corner of her desk. She must have been too worried about the surprise to notice it.

She climbed down her second ladder and walked over to the desk, picking up the small piece of paper. Felix’s letters curled across the page, beautiful and delicate, and to her surprise, she found something tucked underneath the note as well: A string of hearts. The same hearts she’d made for the Valentine’s Day party.

Dear Marinette,

You fell asleep before I could mention it, but the real reason I stopped by was to give you the decoration we talked about while cleaning up last Thursday. I noticed you forgot to ask Allegra about it, or perhaps you simply didn’t want to in the end. If the latter is the case, feel free to throw the decoration away.

I left fruit on your desk, along with a glass of water. Please eat and hydrate yourself so you don’t collapse later.

Signed,

Felix

A soft warmth bloomed in Marinette’s chest as she glanced at the group of fruits on her desk. It was a bit embarrassing that he remembered her stupid ‘reminiscing-over-the-hearts’ excuse, but also sweet that he took the time to ask Allegra about them after Marinette left. He always seemed to pay more attention to her than she realized.

“Hey, how did I get on the chaise?” Marinette asked Tikki curiously. “Felix didn’t.. You know.. carry me or anything, did he?”

The very thought nearly made her blush, but she tried to push it aside as best she could.

“Oh, he thought about it,” Her kwami confirmed, a certain amusement to her tone, “but in the end, he decided to wake you up just enough to have you walk over to the chaise yourself.”

Marinette nodded thoughtfully. She didn’t remember any of the moving process, but the neat piles next to her chaise proved that Felix put a lot of effort into cleaning the furniture off and making it comfortable. He even found a stray blanket for her to use.. With such gentle treatment coming from him, she almost wondered what she could have done to deserve it.

“Did he.. By any chance.. Do anything else while I was sleeping?” She asked hesitantly.

Tikki furrowed her eyebrows, confused. “Like what?”

Marinette flushed, flailing her arms as she replied a bit too loudly, “O-Oh, nothing! Nothing at all! I mean, if you didn’t notice anything then clearly nothing happened- hahaha! Anyway-”

She turned away from Tikki and put her hands over her face, almost groaning from embarrassment. Why would Felix even do anything to her while she was asleep? He didn’t like her that way! In fact, he didn’t like touching people at all! He wouldn’t be the type to longingly gaze at her sleeping face or maybe gently brush her bangs to the side with a smile.. It just wasn’t realistic. She needed to quit hoping for these fantasies before she fell too deeply into them.

A sigh passed Marinette’s lips, and she lowered her hands to look at Felix’s note again.

At least he cared for her in general. That’s better than nothing, right? She was happy just being his friend.

Even if she might be starting to see him as something more.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Devotion: Hey guys! Thanks for coming back for another end-of-chapter devotion! I really appreciate all of those who read this, and I am very excited to share more of the Bible with you! Today we’re going to talk about the beginnings of Hell, why it exists, and why it’s now our problem today.

People often like to question God’s goodness and grace by pointing out the existence of Hell. They say that if He is truly loving and truly as great as we say, then putting someone into Hell- or making it in the first place -should be too grievous of a task for Him. He shouldn’t want to create a situation where any of His other wonderful creations will suffer. I will agree that is a good question, but it is also a question that can be perfectly explained. (or as perfect as I myself can explain it anyway lol)

The first thing we need to understand is that Hell was not originally made for us. Hell was made for Lucifer and his followers. For background, Lucifer is an angel of light that used to be known as one of God’s chiefest angels. He had six wings, was beautiful beyond imagination, and (some believe) served at the right hand of Jesus Christ himself. Despite all of these magnificent gifts, however, Lucifer became unsatisfied with his position. As he looked at the things around him and thought about the incredible powers he’d been bestowed, he started to believe that he was above God. That instead of serving the one who made him, he should be the one on top, the one served and glorified. Pride and envy snaked through his chest like weeds, and soon, he was convincing other angels that he should be in charge too. This blasphemy continued until Lucifer felt he’d rallied enough angels together- or perhaps God called him prematurely -and He attacked God with one third of Heaven’s angels. As you can imagine, the fight didn’t last long. God won with an overwhelming victory, and for their insolence, God banished Lucifer and his followers to the place we now know as Hell. It is a place that God does not touch with any of his mercies or graces or light, a place a complete darkness where you can’t even see your hand in front of your face and your soul is tormented with an excruciating, unsoothable pain for the rest of eternity, where the only sounds you’ll hear is wailing and screaming and crying and gnashing of teeth. This was the place of punishment that God created for Lucifer and his followers, but it wasn’t supposed to be a place of punishment for us.

Now this brings us to the beginning of creation and earth, where Hell suddenly became a problem of our own as well. See, Hell is the place where people who do not want to serve God or give their hearts to Him go. It is not a direct punishment or forced suffering, per se. It is more like getting all of the privileges that come with serving Him taken away from us. If we are rejecting God, then we are rejecting the kindness and gifts that He gives us for accepting Him, such as peace, love, happiness, protection, light, and all of those great things. In the beginning, God created Adam and Eve, and He gave them the choice of following Him or rejecting Him and going their own way. He put them in a ginormous, beautiful garden, where they had everything they could ever need, and in the midst of the garden, He put a tree called the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. God told them that they could eat of every fruit in the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they could not eat. It was a simple rule, just one: Don’t eat the fruit of that tree, but you can have everything else. For a while, Adam and Eve followed that rule. The Bible doesn’t specify how long before they broke it, but one day, as Eve was eating in the garden, a serpent came to her. It’s unclear as to how many animals could speak during this time on earth, or if the snake itself was an exception, but the snake did speak to her.

“Yea, hath God said, ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?” The serpent hissed.

Eve, I can imagine, shook her head. “We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden: but the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God hath said, ‘Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die’.”

“Ye shall not surely die,” the snake said, “for God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.”

Now, this is the tricky part of how the devil works. He likes to throw in a little bit of the truth to cover up big lies. The fruit on the tree of the knowledge of good and evil did have the power to open our eyes to sin and wickedness, but it also was definitely going to kill Eve if she ate it. With the honeyed words of satan, however, and the tempting thought of becoming something better than she was now, Eve didn’t consider that he might be lying, and she didn’t consult God on the matter either. Instead, she took the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil hesitantly in her hands and, with one final breath of courage, took a bite of it.

In that moment, she chose to go her own way instead of God’s

.Eve didn’t die physically as she’d expected to, but that wasn’t because God lied. It was because He was talking about a different kind of death, which was a spiritual death. Her body may have remained after she sinned, but her soul was shriveled up inside itself, now separated from God’s touch of everlasting life. She rejected God and His graces, and in doing so, sent herself in the direction of a place where God’s light does not shine. What’s worse is that since “nothing happened” when she ate the fruit, she brought the fruit to Adam as well. Adam, seeing that his lovely wife was still alive and well, came to the conclusion that God had lied too and also ate the fruit he was specifically told not to eat. They’d both chosen a life without God now.

Of course, since God sees everything, it wasn’t long before He came down to talk with them. Just like with Lucifer, God punished them for their insolence and disobedience. He cursed Adam’s seed, so that anyone born by him (or any man) would have their eyes opened to sin as well, and He cursed the ground so that weeds and thorns and such would sprout from the ground, making it ten times harder for Adam to work in the fields. For Eve, he cursed the way she gave birth, multiplying the pain and sorrow of it, and said that she now had to submit to her husband and that it would even become her main desire to please him. On top of those curses, He made the animals to be carnivores from then on, eating meat and growing wild from the curse of the ground, and also banished Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. And at the very end of that, we know that they were on their way to Hell for their disobedience.

“That’s not fair!” You might say. “They only ate one little fruit! Isn’t that punishment a bit excessive?” Well, no. Sin is a big deal. It is direct disobedience of God, and God’s rules that He gives us are not there without reason. He knew the importance of not eating the fruit and warned us ahead of time that the punishment for eating it would be severe, yet we ate it anyway. Any punishment we were given was completely deserved. You cannot say that God is merciless and cruel for not holding back on a punishment that He told us beforehand that He would give if we did something we weren’t supposed to.

“What about the rest of us? None of us were the ones to eat of the tree. Why do we have to pay for it?” You may not have sinned by eating of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, but you have sinned in your life regardless. At some point, you did something wrong and turned your back on God’s influence and grace. We are all deserving of the punishment that we are heading towards.

“Why not stop us? Why let us choose sin over Him? Why even give us the opportunity to do wrong at all?” Free will. God loves us all dearly, so He wanted to give us the choice to love Him, not just force us to because we are His own creation. Isn’t that amazing? He loves us so much that He created us knowing we wouldn’t love Him the same way He loves us, and He continues to give grace to those who reject Him and essentially spit in his face. I can’t imagine having that much love or patience for somebody, can you? He even gave us another chance to spend paradise with Him by sending Jesus Christ down to save us! Think about it: You know somebody who’s rejected you. You’ve given them good advice, and they’ve spit curses at you while deciding that they know better. They’ve shaken their fist at you and refused to talk to you, called you awful names for giving them the best things they could have, and yet, despite all of that, you decide to send your only son, your prime possession, to go down and take an incredible punishment for them, to die for them. That person who rejected you doesn’t deserve it. They haven’t asked for forgiveness. There is no guarantee that they will even acknowledge the fact that you saved them, but you do it anyway. God did it anyway, and He did it on a much larger scale than that little metaphor.

Hell was not meant for us, but we are headed there now because of our poor choices. God has given us a way to reconcile, to change the choices that we’ve made, because He loves us. He’s calling out to you now. I pray that you are listening. Thanks for reading, and I hope you all have a blessed day! If you have any questions about God, please message me and let me know! <3)

Tag List: @sasstrashforlike5fandoms @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 @canivialemonsquints07 @derbygracie @pleaseignorejustheretoread

#felinette #Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette #Felix Culpa #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU

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jujutsu-headcanons · 3 years

Text

Megumi Fushiguro + chubby s/o

First things first, before we get to the fluff, there are some things we gotta point out

Megs has stated very clearly he doesn't care who he falls for, as long as they have admirable traits. Seriously, Todo, stop asking. His "boring" answer isn't going to change.

This screams bi/pan rights, but also, that means he doesn't give a fuck if you have a little junk in your trunk

I'm so proud of that line please laugh at it

Anyway, when you were introduced as a new student, he didn't talk to you much

Well he did, but only about work and missions and stuff

Does this kid talk to anyone about anything that isn't curse related?

You seemed to gravitate towards Yuji anyway because honestly, he's the embodiment of happy he's just a cool dude

You didn't really catch his eye until he overheard you talking with Nobara about how upset you were with Gojo

He never passes an opportunity to be angry at Gojo. He was intrigued.

Apparently, Gojo had taken the liberty of designing your uniform for you, just like he did Yuji, but he fucked up the measurements

Big time

You seemed to be fond of baggier clothes because it "hid" your tummy and thighs

Nobara was supportive but struggling. She knew how to hem clothes to make them tighter, or shorter, not looser. She really was trying.

Yuji got involved because he saw you were stressed while Nobara tugged here and snipped there and nothing seemed to be working. Yuji learned that making silly faces and doing Fortnite dances doesn't help teenagers going through a body image crisis.

Megumi looked at the chaos and spoke before he really even knew what he was saying

"Does it feel too tight? Does it restrict your movements, like in a fight or something?"

This kinda caught you off guard, but you shook your head. No, the material was naturally flexible and breathable, and the reason you couldn't breathe wasn't that the uniform top was too tight, it was because you felt you looked terrible

Megumi just shrugged. "Then you shouldn't worry about it. You fill it out nicely. It looks better than us, in our baggy uniforms."

Where the fuck did that come from Megs?

He felt the need to excuse himself with a polite bow and leave in his typical cool Megumi way even though his heart was beating faster than anything

He didn't see the way your face lit up, both with excitement and blush. Nobara did and caught on instantly, while Yuji just assumed you were hot and started fanning you with his notebook

Megumi didn't avoid you after this, but he did tend to freeze when your conversations strayed away from typical shaman things

He wasn't trying to, he was just constantly lost in thought

Why did he say that? Well, he means, it was obvious he said it because it was true- that uniform clings to your body in a way it wouldn't fit anyone else. Its kinda hot

Megumi Fushiguro this is your classmate stop having those thoughts

Maybe he wasn't just trying to cheer you up. Maybe there are some things he hasn't discovered about himself. He actually really never had a crush on anyone. Is that was this is? Feelings?

Ew. But keep going.

Megumi noticed things over the next couple of things that were unsettling to him. You used self-deprecating humor. A lot. Always poking fun at yourself. He didn't mind it at first because, well, you laughed about it, but still. It's like you thought you really looked like the Michelin Tire Man.

He never knew what to do in these situations. Should he laugh? It seemed to bring you joy. But he didn't think you looked bad at all.

He also noticed you didn't eat much. And when you did you avoided sweets and grease. Megs was known for being the only one that ate healthy in the group, but even he didn't have salad all the time. You acted like you were embarrassed to eat in front of people, so you chose the tiniest meal.

This worried him a lot. At first, he bored you with the importance of eating three well thought out and balanced meals with the proper amount of proteins and calories and shit. But that seemed to ruin your appetite more, so he stopped.

He started sliding part of his meals onto your plate. He considered it a success when you would eat it.

The last thing Megs noticed was that you pushed yourself to the absolute limit during sparring practice and he hated it

See, you actually didn't need to be physically strong. Yes, it helps in battle, but your particular cursed technique kinda made up for being average strength. If no one could get close to you, and you can't get close to them, then you don't really need to deliver a punch, right?

But you would just keep at it oh my god

One hundred push-ups. One hundred sit-ups. One hundred squats. Every day. He was worried you were gonna go bald at this point

He'd still love you but still, spontaneously losing your hair because of rigorous training as not good

You'd fight with one of them until you were pink and dripping with sweat. It was obvious you were breathing heavily and, honestly, it's been two hours. Even Yuji was getting tired, but you wouldn't stop.

Megumi found himself doing something he thought he never would. Ever.

He invaded your privacy, of course.

"Shoko-sensei, Gojo-sensei asked for a copy of (l/n)-kun's physical and related medical records"

At first, he just wanted to see if you were anemic. You don't really show any symptoms, but also, you don't eat a lot. All this exercising can't be good if you are. Then his thoughts strayed to "oh god .... What if they have heart problems? Lung problems? They shouldn't push themselves so hard if they do. What if they avoid certain foods because of a stomach issue? What if-"

You're healthy. Just as he initially thought.

Megumi was baffled, to be honest.

He can get avoiding certain foods if they hurt your tummy. But what if you were just afraid of being made fun of because of stupid cliches?

He can get casual exercise if it was important you lose weight so you don't get sick. But what if it was because you really hated how you looked?

This hurt Megumi. He threw his copy of the reports in the shredder and went on his way

He wondered around, lost in his thoughts until he spotted you just outside of the girls' dorms doing something

He could have sworn you were fresh out of the shower but somehow still exercising

Yoga? Maybe? He couldn't tell and he didn't care

You were wearing the cutest set of pajamas, and your hair was still damp

And when you raised your arms up your shirt rose and he could see the tummy in question, complete with stretch marks and whatever other blemishes resided there (scars, freckles, etc.)

He did the most ooc thing I've ever made this lil fucker do

He runs up, gets on his knees, and kisses the tummy

All over the tummy

Just as he thought. Warm and soft. Both the skin and the texture are soooo soft-

As you turn into a flustered mess, "Fushiguro-san what the fuck", he throws his arms around your knees and throws his over his shoulder

"You aren't that heavy if I can do this... (Y/N)-chan"

Oh god the way your first name rolls off his tongue

Well, as long as he's near the girls' dorms, he might as well let himself in-

As you flail and giggle, trying to break away, he sees your thighs jiggle out of the corner of his eye

This sets something off in him he doesn't understand, but also, who the fuck cares

It isn't hard to find your room and he allows himself in, still pardoning himself for the intrusion, and he sets you down on your bed

Still doesn't give you a chance to speak as he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face in your stomach

"Warmmm...~"

He's never cuddled anyone ever, but he already knows this is ten times better than cuddling someone who's built like a wall

Squish > muscles

"You know you're beautiful right?"

This makes you blush, but you reluctantly bring your fingers through his hair. "You think so?"

Megumi furrows his brows and looks up at you. "You don't?"

Megumi stays with you all night. You two stay up until three am talking about insecurities, everything you admire about each other, and Megumi practically worships your body through words and praise

He decides he's going to help you feel more confident about your body and your looks

All while loving every inch of your body

The next morning was a mess though because he had to somehow sneak out of the girls' dorms without anyone noticing

Gojo would be pissed if he found out

Had he not orchestrated this whole thing

Seriously, you honestly thought Gojo made mistakes?

He hates seeing his precious students down themselves, and even though he only knew you for a couple of days back then, he knew this would be a problem

Precious little y/n, who is beautiful in every aspect but insecure about their looks, surrounded by muscle-bound idiots

He had to do something, how could he not

He knew one of them would enjoy your body

He knew it would be Megumi too, he sees how he looks at plus-sized girls-

Even he thought you were cute and was proud to have you as his child

All of his children are cuter than everyone else's children

And now all is well

You became more confident in your body and eating in front of others, toned down the exercise, and Megumi became the most whipped boy in the school

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

#jjk #jjk spoilers #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro

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scathecraw · 3 years

Text

BBRae Week 2021 - Day 3: Into The Woods

“Summer camp has been so much fun, Rachel. Teether hasn’t cried once since the day after you dropped us off, and Tommy got first place in the obstacle course. You were right, we should have done a camp last year, too.” Melvin chattered excitedly on the office phone while Rachel listened patiently. “They’ve made a bunch of arts and crafts, and the woods here are so cool. They’re really old, and Gar knows so muchabout all the trees and animals and bugs.”

“And who is this Gar, Melvin? A new friendof yours?” Rachel’s emphasis was obvious, and Melvin’s blush was practically audible.

“NO! He’s a counselor. He’s really nice, but he’s really old. Like, 50 or something. You’ll meet him on parent’s day next week.”

Rachel didn’t remember anyone older than the director, a middle aged woman she had spoken to when getting them enrolled and again during drop-off. She suspected Melvin was fibbing to cover her embarrassment, but she brought it on herself by teasing the preteen. “I’m sure I will. Does this mean that you’re going to drag me out into the forest when I come? I thought it was going to be an afternoon of arts and crafts and then some campfire songs, not a forced march.”

“Duh. Arts and crafts are lame. Gar said that next year he’d show us how to whittle, which sounds better than making lanyards.” There was muffled adolescent shouting, and Melvin covered the receiver and yelled back. “I gotta go. We’re going swimming. I’ll call you on Friday. Love you, bye.” She hung up before anything could be said back, and Rachel was left with dead air while Melvin sprinted after her friends, untied shoelaces flailing behind her.

Arriving at the aforementioned “Parent’s Day”, Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The camp had at first seemed like a good way to get the three adopted children outside instead of rotting their brains, but the sheer noise of a few dozen milling, clamoring kids and groups of socializing parents made her wonder what she had subjected them, and by extension, herself, to. She was late, which probably didn’t help the situation, but she looked around the chaos in an effort to find her own three chaos engines. Instead, she was spotted.

A wild, dirty missile made a high-volume impact with her legs, nearly toppling her and babblingso fast that even Rachel’s practiced ear couldn’t discern what he was saying. She was wobbling and about to fall over when a firm hand caught her upper back and helped her regain her balance. “Teether, dude! I said you could go get her, not try to body slam her.”

Rachel finally planted her feet, acknowledged Teether with a gentle hand on his head, and looked up. And up. They both froze for an instant, but the tanned, blond man recovered first. His slack jaw snapped into a smile, and he said “Hi. You must be Rachel. I’m Gar, one of the counselors here.”

His hand was still on her back and heat radiated from it like afternoon sun. Her face had never fallen into the silly expression his had, but unconscious thought raced before she could regain her composure. ‘Definitely not fifty,’ she thought. “Hello. Yes, I’m Rachel, Teether’s mother.” She peeled Teether from her leg with practiced ease, and he sprang off of her and ran.

Gar realized that his hand still rested behind her, almost possessively, and retreated to a more respectable distance. He chuckled, nervously. “Heh. Um, Melvin and Tommy are with their friends, still, but we should probably get them. Ms. Waller asked me to show you around – she said you had just moved to the area?” It wasn’t a question, but he phrased it like it was. They began walking back towards the milling crowd of parents, children, and quite possibly enough noise to drown out a jet engine.

“Yes, it’s our first summer here. She mentioned that most of the kids made this an annual activity, but I didn’t think we’d be so strange as to warrant a personal detail.”

“Oh it’s nothing like that, it’s just that there’s not really many other summer camps around, and ‘cause we go from K-12, we get pretty much everyone. A lot of the other parents already know everybody. You’re not strange, just… new.” His eyes never left her, even as they began walking.

Back with the crowds, Melvin and a gaggle of similarly aged girls watch the two of them. One of them nodded decisively and turned to Melvin. “Okay. They’re too cute together. Look at how awkward they’re being.”

Anotherhuffed a little. “They’re just staring at each other. They should be holding hands or something, right?”

Melvin’s eyes narrowed critically. “It’s been like 10 minutes and they aren’t kissing yet. Gar’s probably too much of a nerd to do anything. We need to do something to make sure they know how perfect for each other they are.”

“Like what? They aren’t going to start making out in the middle of the crowd.”

An evil smirk crept across Melvin’s face. “Maybe not in the middle of the crowd, but what if they were all alone in the woods? Then they’d have no excuse not to!”

A look of awe crossed her companions’ faces. “That’s evil. I love it.”

But the smirk fell, half-formed plot evaporating. “But how could we get them out there alone? It can’t be anything serious, or else Rachel will ground me forever, and I bet she won’t even go unless we can trick her into it.”

“Could you just tell her you feel sick?”

“No.” Melvin shook her head slowly. “Then she’d either stay with me or just take me home early.”

One, heretofore silent, chimed in. “I think I know what we can do. But Mel, you’re going to have to make a lanyard.” She giggled at the disgusted look, and said “C’mon, we only have like 15 minutes before they start wondering where we are.”

Across the crowd and a million miles away, Garfield and Rachel were, in fact, being tremendously awkward as they watched the kids run and play. Gar fumbled his words and couldn’t decide to stare at her eyes, the curve of her neck, or decidedly anywhere except her. Rachel was the opposite. She answered in short, monosyllabic whispers and swallowed, trying to ease her desperately dry throat.

“So, uh, you said you just moved here! Do you have a job, er, of course you do, unless you don’t! That’s fine, too! Nothing wrong with… that. Yeah.” He trailed off, before gamely trying again. “So what do you do when you’re not, y’know, coming to summer camps?”

Rachel took a deep breath and centered herself. Gar started. “I’m not, like, annoying you, am I? I’m sorry, I tend to blabber -”

“No. I’m just… a little off-kilter. I’m a curator of antiquities at the museum.”

“That is so cool. Gar’s eyes were like dinner plates. “I love the museum! I always wanted to volunteer there, but I never feel like I have time between summers here and planning classes during the year.”

“Oh, you’re a teacher? Grade school or high school?”

“High school and occasionally some classes at the community college. I figured I was already teaching AP and college bio isn’t much different. I’m sure the kids get tired of me after the sixth year, though, heh.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, uncomfortably warm even for a summer afternoon.

“I suppose they wouldn’t let you teach so many years if you weren’t good at the job. Not that biology is my area of expertise.” She clarified, hearing his unspoken question. “I studied history and preservation, so a natural history museum is certainly a big change.”

“Wow, I bet. Still, nobody does what they expected to when they were in college. I got a bachelor’s in Environmental Science, but it turns out most of those jobs are just telling corporations what they want to hear.”

Rachel leveled him with a newly assessing gaze. “Believe it or not, so are quite a few jobs in archaeology. It’s what put me off of the field.”

“But hey, teaching led me to Jump and to Lake Titan Camp, so I can’t complain.”

While the two nominal adults conversed, a far more intricate conversation was happening in the craft cabin. Kole, a pink haired co-conspirator of Melvin’s, was creating a half finished lanyard in pink and purple while the rest strategized. “Okay, so I need to throw her off so she’ll agree. The pink and purple color scheme is good – pink for me, purple for her, but I need something to knock her off her game.”

“You could tell her something that surprised her, maybe. But what?”

Realization dawned. “Okay. This is a little mean, maybe, but I was planning on talking to her about it anyway. I know just what to say. Kole, how’s the lanyard coming?”

“I’ve got it to the perfect length. Just long enough that you might ‘Need a little while to finish it, pretty please.’” She held up the dangling lengths of string. “Everything ready? We’re running out of time.”

“Now or never. Let’s go.” Melvin took a deep breath and led them to the doorway.

Garfield and Rachel were deep in conversation. The initial awkwardness had faded, and while there were still sparks flying whenever they made eye contact, it was more a static buzz than the almost painful live wire sensation of their first glances. At some point they had migrated closer to where Teether and Tommy’s two groups had merged into a supercrowd of children all making noise, forcing them to stand closer to one another to be heard. They were in this huddle, all focus on each other except for both of their frequent check-in glances to the children. Rachel had dipped her toe into a hint of vulnerability to test the waters, quietly and without fanfare explaining that she had adopted all three of them from the same orphanage she had found herself aging out of.

Gar reciprocated. “That’s really incredible. I was adopted pretty young by some family friends. I know how complicated that sort of relationship can be, but it’s doing something amazing for all three of them.”

Melvin, seeing their closeness, hesitated, just a bit. She was messing with fate, a little. But she was certain it was for a good cause. And it was now or never, they were already cutting it close to “Shared Activity Time” for her age group. “Umm. Rachel.”

“Yes, Melvin?” Rachel saw that Mel was nervous. Melvin was never nervous.

“I want to finish a project for you, but won’t have time later. So, uh, I need you to find something else to do. During the Activity Time, I mean. I just want to finish making this. Please, M-mom?”

Time stopped for Rachel. She had adopted them six years ago, and there had never been a time when Melvin had consciously called her “Mom”. Forms asking for “Mother’s Name”, sure. Mother’s day celebrations, absolutely. Even a few mostly-asleep, teary pleas, but never, never while Melvin was in control of her faculties.

But while time had stopped for Rachel, it marched onward for everyone else. Melvin held her breath and waited for long, tense seconds, but Rachel didn’t seem to be coming back to her senses, so she hurriedly spat out “Okayloveyouseeyousoon,” and fled back to the safety of her friends.

Gar, too, was frozen. Not to the same degree, nor for the same reasons, but he felt like he had intruded on something intimate that he had no business being a part of. He looked around, helplessly as Rachel gaped. After several seconds of silence, he couldn’t not do something. “Uhh. Rachel? You… okay?” More frozen immobility. He waved a hand in front of her face. “Rae? You there? Do I need to get a doctor?”

She seized his hand. “Did… did she just call me “Mom”? Or did I have a stroke?”

“Yeah, ouch. She did. I’m guessing this was new?”

“I… Yes. She’s never… What… what do I do? Was she angry I didn’t answer? Where did she go?” Rachel began looking around for her.

“Whoa, slow down. She’s with her friends. She wasn’t mad, it seemed like she was nervous, but not scared. And what you do is let her come to you and talk to her like you always do, and just make sure she knows you’re okay with it. As long as you are okay with it, right?”

“Of course. I just thought...” Rachel trailed off.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about! She loves you and just told you how she feels. That’s a good thing. Let’s give her a chance to do whatever she’s doing. The rest of the kids are about to go do an activity, so we have time.”

“I think I need to get away from the crowd for a minute. I can’t believe I’m asking this, but is it alright if we just go for a walk?”

“Of course.” Gar’s grip had at some point shifted to be holding her hand back, and he led her down a dirt path towards a grove of trees. “This path is quiet and not too hard.” Her sudden harsh look had him follow up. “You’re not really wearing the shoes for hiking, Rae.”

“Hmf. And since when did I say you could call me Rae, Garfield?”

He looked stricken. “I am so sorry. I dunno what I was thinking, Ra-chel. Rachel.”

She narrowed an eye. “Rae is… acceptable, as far as diminutives go. Just don’t make a habit of it in public.”

“Cross my heart. Hey, at least being a little mad at me put your mind off of Melvin, right?”

“And now it’s right back. So very helpful,” she deadpanned.

“Easy come, easy go, right?” His smile grew a little. “I don’t wanna pry or anything, but is it really that surprising? She said you were her mom like, a dozen times during camp.”

“I suppose not. It caught me very off-guard, though. Teether and Tommy sort of switch between Rachel and Mom, but Melvin’s never really seemed like she even wanted that sort of, I don’t know, ‘Official’ title for me.”

“Listen, the whole ‘mom’ thing isn’t as scary as you’re making it out to be. You’re already giving her the kind of love a mom is supposed to, and she loves you. She talks about all the time with stars in her eyes. Being adopted doesn’t make her less your daughter. Rita Farr isn’t any less my mom for taking me in when I was eight, and Marie Logan isn’t any more or less important to me just because she’s not around.”

Rachel took a breath and sighed it out. “Thank you. That does make it easier.” They walked in silence for a short time. “Wait, Rita Farr, as in the movie star? As in, the philanthropist and art collector, married to Steve Dayton?”

He blushed a little. “Whoops, probably shouldn’ta dropped that so casually, I guess. Yeah. Steve and Rita adopted me when my parents died. It’s not always easy, but I love ‘em.” He watched her reaction carefully, hoping she wouldn’t suddenly start treating him differently for having such well-known parents.

Rachel schooled her face after having that bombshell dropped on her. “Well, if we ever meet we’ll be able to talk about some historic pieces she has that I wrote papers on.”

A beat passed, then Gar’s loud laugh broke relative silence of the forest. “Aw man, she is gonna love you.”

And just like that, the tension was broken. All the concern, the lack of balance, everything fell away, and the static buzz of easy conversation punctuated by something just a little too close to intimate for an average friendship was back.

They wandered together down the shady paths, miles away and only a few trees distant from the campground. Rachel didn’t notice the distance she had walked on the formerly dreaded forest hike, and Garfield forgot to try quite so hard with his jokes and wise cracks. They walked, hand in hand and only somewhat realizing how close they were to one another, shoulders nearly touching.

The spell was eventually broken, as they always are. They rounded a final bend, seeing in the distance the campground they had left, what, less than an hour ago? And the reality that they had left behind when they entered the sun-shafted canopies woke them up, and they found that really, their hands were quite slick. Had they been clasped together the whole time? And Rachel, especially, was starting to sweat from the heat and the walk. Garfield was suddenly nervous, after all, he never talked this much, not without making a fool of himself.

But even after emerging from that hazy dream, they held on, gently rising out of the fog and into the real world so no sudden movements could disrupt the memory, the closeness that two almost strangers that fit together like complementary puzzle pieces had shared.

It wasn’t even fully dispelled when their hands slipped apart to be wiped on cargo shorts or dark jeans, though the almost hidden flight from behind a few low-branched trees of blonde hair and untied shoelaces and quiet giggle quickly sobered them.

Garfield turned. “Was that -?”

“Melvin. Oh, that little brat, she is too damn smart for her own good. I would put money on her scheming to get us alone.” Rachel fumed and her face tightened into a mask of cold anger. “I can’t believe that she would manipulate me like this! How could she – How could she finally call me -” and the mask broke, shifting from anger to near tears in seconds.

Gar panicked. “Whoa, hold on, no. She’s not that cruel, I know it and so do you. We’re probably missing something. You just said you can’t believe she would do this – she probably didn’t. Rae I promise you, there’s got to be an explanation that makes sense.”

Rachel took a deep breath, followed by another, centering herself. “I am going to get to the bottom of this. Where would she be doing this “project” she made up?”

“The craft cabin. I’ll take you there, but I guarantee you it’s not as bad as it might sound.”

It was like the crowd parted for them without even reacting. No one looked at the worried counselor or at the steely featured parent, but nonetheless they found their path almost unimpeded. Gar held up a hand just outside the door. “Let me get you two some privacy. Please.”

“Fine. Do it.” Terse and unhappy, Rachel’s displeasure was apparent in her voice, and it made Garfield wince.

He opened the door to see five preteen girls, huddled and tittering. At least until they saw him and his serious frown. Then their eyes went wide, and they looked to Melvin in a panic. “Out, girls. Clear the room. Not you, Melvin.” He stopped her when she tried to take shelter in the middle of the pack. He turned to follow them, and glanced back almost pityingly, then shook his head and exited.

The girls all ducked their heads when they saw Rachel just outside the cabin and hurried off, racing to be the first around the corner and away from the ticking time bomb.

Garfield simply nodded, and left her to it. Rachel entered the cabin and saw Melvin almost trembling, and it broke her heart. She had worked up a head of steam on the walk and the wait, but seeing her precious daughter actually afraid stopped any real anger and left only a bitter emptiness.

Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands. She settled on a vague, open armed shrug gesture. “Why, Mel? Was it just a prank? Just a way to manipulate me?”

Tears brimmed in Melvin’s eyes. “No, I just wanted to give you guys a chance to talk alone. I’m sorry I lied, I really did try on the lanyard, but I’m just bad at them so I had Kole do it. I’m sorry, I am.”

“What? What lanyard? Melvin, I don’t care if you had a friend help with a lanyard! I just can’t believe that you would call me your mom, just to trick me into talking to someone. I can’t tell you how badly that hurts me. I… I love you too much for that.”

“What!No, nononono, Mom, I promise that wasn’t a trick. I promise. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I just – I thought that if I – I thought that maybe if I just did it you’d just let me and maybe you’d talk to him and then it everything would be perfect. I promise. I love you, Mom. I do. And I was just trying to maybe make you not spend all your time watching me and talk to him. He’s really cool, and I could tell you like him, and he’s completely in love with you, and you’re perfect for each other. I was just trying to help you be happy!” She sobbed, breathless.

Rachel froze, then instinctively wrapped her daughter in her arms and let her cry. “Mel, you don’t need to worry about me. I am happy, I promise. I don’t need you to try to trick me into being happy. Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to say I’m not mad, but I get it. You don’t have to trick me into talking to, what did you call him, “really old, like 50 years old” guys? If we talk, we talk. That’s how adults work.”

“No, it’s not! I’ve never seen you go on a date, and you just ignore people when they try to talk to you. I know it was dumb, but I had to try something ‘cause otherwise you’d just give him that serious face until he ran away, and he’s perfect for you if you’d just give him a chance!”

“Mel. Mel, okay. I promise. I will give him a chance. But you don’t need to be worried about me. I don’t need a twelve year old playing matchmaker. You should be doing kid things, not bad romcom plots.”

“*SNRK*. They’re not bad. They’re sweet. And you like them, otherwise you wouldn’t have so many of them.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and glowered.

Rachel internally cursed Kori. “If you say so. Now let’s sit here for a minute, then we can go wash your face and you can go hand out with your friends. And I will have a talk with Garfield, and you will not stick your nose into my dating life. Understand?”

“Yes, mom.”

It still startled Rachel to hear that coming from Melvin, but it also warmed her heart. She hadn’t even known she wanted it until it happened, but it was like a spoken guarantee that she really was doing things right, and her little family really was working.

They sat together and Melvin showed her the lanyard that she had made via Kole. Rachel put it on the silver chain she wore around her neck and let it rest beside her heart promising mostly to herself that it would be kept safe at home. Then, when Mel had calmed down, they headed to the bathroom where Mel cleaned the tear tracks from her dirt-smudged face and rinsed her red rimmed eyes. Rachel gave her a final kiss on the forehead, and sent her off.

Gar found her standing there, staring off into space against the wall of the concrete shack. He leaned against it and slid down to sit around the corner and next to her. “So.”

“So,” she said back.

“Not saying it just to confuse you?” He glanced at her, gauging her reaction.

“No. But she wasn’t against confusing me.”

His eyebrow cocked. “Not mad?”

“Still mad. Still going to be grounded, probably. But she did it out of love.”

“Y’know, I don’t want to say I told you so, but...”

“But you totally want to say ‘I told you so,’” she finished for him.

“Yep. So what now?”

“Now, I guess I do what I was going to do before we had all this to deal with,” she said, the soul of nonchalance.

“What’s that?” he said, and when she didn’t respond, he stood up and looked around the corner. “Rae?”

“This.” with only his head around the corner, she turned and kissed him, gentle and sweet, and far too short for either of them. “I’d like to go out sometime. I want to take you to a behind the scenes at the museum, and I’ll let you choose the restaurant.”

His head spun and his eyes were out of focus. His thoughts were like molasses and he could barely get out the word “Okay.” before she was gone, a little bounce in her step.

AO3 FF.net

#bbraeweek21 #bbrae #fic

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jonahlovescoffee · 3 years

Text

“everything’s alright” | J.M.

part two of the better together series

a/n: thanks to @chilling-seavey for sending this cute video into my dms that managed to inspire me to write this <3 even though it came out worse than my expectations :/ anyways, should i name this kid or nah? happy reading!!!

summary: jonah’s the only one who can calm his wailing daughter down.

warnings: more fluff!!!

word count: 1958

Your daughter was exceptionally well-behaved and polite -- only towards people that she’s familiar with, that is, which was why she was a literal angel when she was around the Frantzich family because Jonah, being the responsible son he was, had brought you guys back to his hometown quite frequently to visit his family and they, in turn, adored her very much.

But when it came to visiting your side of the family — something that you rarely did because they lived in another country — it was a different story entirely.

“Mommy, whose house is this?” Your daughter tugged at your hand to get your attention after you pressed the doorbell. She was rubbing her tired eyes with one hand, still a little drowsy after waking up from a long nap on the plane and in the taxi ride to your parents’ house.

“This is grandma and grandpa’s house, can’t you remember? We came here once last year,” you explained and she instantly clung tighter to your hand, her tired expression being replaced by a frightened one as she seemed to fully process what this meant. Being at your parents’ place meant family gatherings and family gatherings meant the presence of too many unfamiliar faces and loads of unwanted attention on her since she was not just the youngest of the generation, but also the kid who was only around once in a blue moon and she wasn’t a fan of too much attention unless it’s from her parents.

“Can we go home, please?” She pleaded yearningly and you offered her a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine, they won’t bite,” you assured her, but your words did almost nothing to soothe her nerves.

“Plus, I’m here with you this time,” Jonah appeared beside the two of you, having already unloaded all your bags from the boot of the taxi and paid the fare. He reached a hand out to ruffle her hair. “Nothing will go wrong.”

She was about to open her mouth to say something else when the door was suddenly opened by your sister, whose face lit up immediately upon seeing you. “Oh my gosh, hi guys! You’re finally here!” She exclaimed excitedly, extending both of her arms to pull you into a tight embrace. “I missed you so damn much.”

“It’s nice to see you too, sis,” you said as she proceeded to squeeze the air out of you, with no intentions of letting you go anytime soon. “Dummy, you know I love your hugs but if you continue squeezing me any harder I’m going to suffocate,” you joked and she released you with a laugh.

“And you brought along your hot boyfriend this time!” She squealed like a lovestruck fangirl as she gave Jonah another one of her infamous spine-crushing hugs and exchanged quick greetings before squatting down to match your daughter’s eye level.

“Who do we have here?” Your sister cooed at your daughter who was currently hiding behind your leg, staring at your sister warily. “Hi, little one, it’s just me, your aunt,” she held out a hand but your daughter seemed utterly petrified by her friendly gesture and extended her little hands towards you.

“Mommy, up, up,” she whimpered but you didn’t oblige to her request, which made her whining intensify. “Mommy, up, now!”

“Come on, hug your aunt, not mommy,” you urged but she stood at her spot, unmoving, now stomping her feet, still begging you profusely to pick her up.

With a sigh, you eventually picked her up from the ground and she buried her face in the crook of your neck. “She’s shy,” you told your sister, earning an understanding nod from her.

“No worries, I’ll show Jonah the way to the guest bedroom, then,” she stood up and took one of the luggage from Jonah despite his protests and turned on her heels, walking towards the stairs.

Before Jonah could follow suit though, as if she could sense him about to walk away, your daughter yanked on his sleeve to stop him. “Daddy, where are you going? Don’t leave me.”

“Don’t be silly, love. Daddy’s just going to put our bags in the room,” he leaned in to kiss her forehead once. “I’ll be back in a jiffy, you be a good girl with mommy, okay?”

She nodded and let go of him and with a peck on your cheek, he left you both on your own devices. You carried your moody daughter and followed the loud sound of chatter into the living room where most of your family members were gathered at, so deeply immersed in whatever conversation they were having that no one noticed your arrival.

“Hi,” you said meekly and heads snapped towards you all at once, finally acknowledging your presence.

“Oh my gosh, y/n!” After you returned all the hugs by your relatives, much to your daughter’s dismay, you plopped down on the last vacant spot on the couch. As expected, everyone started to bombard you with questions about your life abroad and some tried to humor your daughter to no avail. Yet despite not receiving any response from her no matter how hard they tried, they didn’t give up and leave her alone which was what she truly wanted them to do. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to go somewhere quiet where she could be free of all the attention. She turned towards you to find you happily engaged in a conversation with someone else with the broadest grin plastered on your face.

And she didn’t like the fact that said person appeared to be another man. Based on her 3-year-old childish logic, no other man was allowed to make you as happy as you were now except for Jonah.

She had to stop this now.

“Mommy, mommy,” she called and you stopped talking to focus on her.

“Yes, hun?”

“I don’t wanna be here,” she whined and you pressed your lips into a thin line, slightly annoyed by how your daughter was acting.

“Yes, hun, I know you don’t but mommy wants to catch up with her family, understand?” You pointed to the group of kids playing in the opposite of the living room. “Why don’t you go ahead and join your cousins?” You suggested, expecting her to agree with you but she did the opposite.

Her lips started quivering and started to tear up, indicating that she was about to burst into tears if you didn’t do something quick. You hurriedly looked around for anything that could help you in this situation and spotted a container of cookies on the table, so you unscrewed the lid and took one out for her. “Ssh, don’t cry, here’s a cookie.”

Thankfully, she accepted it and didn’t activate her waterworks, enjoying her cookie in silence as you continued to chat with your relatives. But the calm didn’t last for long.

“How old is she already?” Your brother asked, kneeling in front of the both of you.

Your daughter didn’t like how close he was to you. And her.

She hated being around people that were strangers to her, especially males. There was something intimidating about them that never failed to strike fear in her.

“Three,” you answered and softly nudged her shoulder. “Say hi.”

Your daughter stayed quiet. “Honey? What did I teach you about manners?” You said with an edge in your tone.

Without warning, he picked her up and away from the safety of your lap. “Maybe this little sunshine needs my hug to warm up to me, don’t you, little one?”

That was all it took for her to start wreaking havoc.

“Get away from me! I wanna go home; I wanna go home; I wanna go home!” She wailed, flailing her limbs all around to his shock and he passed her back to you immediately.

Still, she couldn’t stop bawling her eyes out.

“Shhh, baby there’s nothing to be afraid of,” you cooed and stroked her hair in a poor attempt to calm her down. You were half-mad at her for being rude but you knew that it wasn’t the right time to lecture her unless you wanted the current situation to worsen. You weren’t exactly an expert at soothing her nerves. Jonah was the one who’s extremely good at this.

Speaking of him, where on earth is he now? He had been upstairs for a suspiciously long amount of time

As if on cue, your boyfriend walked down the stairs in a fresh set of clothes and completely freshened up. He quickly sprinted towards you when he witnessed the chaos and took her from you right away. “Let me take it from here.”

You mouthed a quick “you’re a lifesaver” and blew him a kiss before returning to your conversation.

Her crying died down instantly when she was in his arms. He knew she hated crowds so he walked through the dining room and the kitchen before reaching transparent sliding doors that led to the backyard. He slid them open and stepped out of the house, his feet coming into contact with the soft grass on the ground.

“Now, what’s wrong, sunshine?” He asked softly. His daughter’s head was resting against his chest, sniffling, her fingers toying with the pendant hanging on the chain around his neck.

“There’s too many new people in the room,” she complained. “It makes me nervous.”

Jonah waited for her to elaborate but she did nothing of the sorts. “I don’t think that’s the whole story, sweetheart.”

“Mommy kept talking to that particular guy and I don’t like it,” she admitted, twirling his chain around her fingers as she continued speaking. “Then he suddenly picked me up and called me ‘sunshine’. Only you can call me that so I…” she trailed off.

“So you lost it?” He asked her and she nodded. “Oh, sunshine, that was just mommy’s brother,” he explained and she seemed to relax a little at his answer.

“But why didn’t you go to play with your cousins in the first place if you disliked the attention?”

“I don’t know. What if they don’t like me?” He chuckled at her question.

“Sweetheart, you know that they’re your cousins, right?” He patted her head gently. “Which means that they’re family and they’ll love you no matter what,” he assured but she didn’t seem the least bit convinced.

“Look, everything’s alright. There’s nothing for you to worry about, sunshine,” he smiled warmly, which made her lips tug slightly upwards into a small smile as well. Seeing that she’s happy now, he re-entered the house and proceeded to make his way back towards the living room.

“Absolutely positively nothing?”

“Absolutely positively nothing,” he said and planted a kiss on her head.

“Now go on and have some fun with your cousins,” he placed her down onto the ground and she ran off in the direction of the group of little kids that she bonded with almost immediately.

Jonah went to sit beside you on the arm of the couch. You leaned into him habitually and placed a hand on his thigh.

“Everything’s settled, my lady,” he said, his voice only loud enough for you to hear.

“Even after all this time I still have no idea how you do it,” you managed to reply before everyone else turned their attention to your boyfriend and started to interrogate him like he was some kind of criminal.

“You know what? I’m starting to understand why our daughter doesn’t want to be here. Damn, does your family really need to know my height or they’ll die or something?” He whispered to you when it was time for lunch and everyone went to the dining room.

You laughed and looped your arm through his as you led him into the dining room.

#wdw #why dont we #corbyn besson #daniel seavey #jack avery #jonah marais #why don’t we #zach herron #wdw imagines #jonah marais imagines

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

Cuckoo For Cocoa Puffs (Free!)

Summary: While discussing favorite cereals, Makoto realizes Haru is holding out on him and so uses a playful interrogation method to get a straight answer out of his friend.

A/N: My very first Free tickle fic! I'm so excited to share it with you! I feel super silly about the title but we all know my history with titles so I'm just going to let it be, lol. I originally wrote this with lee Haru laughing much louder, but after giving it some thought I decided it would be more in character for him to laugh silently, so this is what I settled on. I feel good about it! Hope you enjoy it, too! ^^

Word Count: 1,064

@tastybluesprite

~~~

“Mackerel doesn’t count.”

“Mackerel is all I eat for breakfast.”

“It is now, but I know you used to have cereal sometimes growing up.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“You’re not that old!” Makoto grinned, rolling over on the couch to look down at Haru, who lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling. His blue eyes slid over to his friend. “Come on. Forget cereal for breakfast; just think about cereal in general. Which one’s the best?”

Haru blinked. “Are there any fish-shaped cereals?”

Makoto laughed. “You’re impossible.”

“I don’t eat cereal.”

“You should try it! It’s good.”

“Okay.”

The brunette waited a beat, then smirked at his friend. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I think the best cereal is?”

“Uh, sure. What’s the best cereal, Makoto?”

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

Haru frowned, then glanced away. “If you say so.”

“You can’t judge me when you won’t give me an answer yourself.”

“Whatever.”

Makoto reached down to poke his stomach. “Do you have an opinion on the matter after all, Haruka?”

Haru batted his hand away. “I thought we agreed not to call me that.”

“Then maybe you should stop being so stubborn about giving me an answer.” Makoto chuckled, an idea sparking in the back of his mind as he poked his friend again, wiggling his finger on purpose this time. “Just tell me.”

Haru rolled away from him onto his stomach, grunting. “Knock it off.”

Instead, Makoto quickly descended from the couch and sat on his friend’s lower back, skittering his fingers rapidly along his back and shoulders. “I know you have a favorite cereal. What is it? Tell me.”

“H-Hey! Stop!” Haru protested, squirming. He wasn’t really reacting beyond that, but Makoto knew he’d break eventually. It was just a matter of keeping it up. The ravenette made a choking kind of noise when the taller boy started jabbing his fingers into the backs of his ribs. “Makoto!”

Makoto merely grinned, reaching under his shirt to dig purposefully into his ribs from behind. “Tell me, or I’ll tickle it out of you.”

Haru’s eyes snapped up to him in a brief panic. The usually stoic swimmer was well aware that Makoto knew he was ticklish enough for it to be a viable interrogation method, but still. He didn’t want to crumble right away just from the threat of it. He tried clamping his arms to his sides. “Don’t!”

“All right, you asked for it.” Makoto grinned, switching from digging to light scribbling, and Haru shuddered beneath him, burying his face in the carpeted floor to try and muffle his giggles as they slipped out of him beyond his control. “Jeez, you’re so stubborn, Haruka. All you have to do is tell me your favorite cereal.”

“I don’t eat cereal,” Haru tried, letting out a squeal that made his cheeks instantly turn a dark shade of embarrassed red. “Stohohop it!”

“See, I like Cinnamon Toast Crunch because it’s so sugary,” Makoto replied as though he hadn’t heard the giggly plea. “I know it’s not super healthy but I only eat it in the off season. I have to imagine you’d probably be a Honey Nut Cheerios person, or maybe a Fruity Pebbles kind of guy if you’re secretly pretty bold.”

“Mahahahakoto!” Haru cackled, giggles becoming soft laughter the more his friend focused on that incessant, light scribbling across his second worst spot. “Stohohohohohop!”

“I wonder what Nagisa and Rei would imagine your cereal choice to be. I should have them guess once I’ve gotten an answer out of you.” Makoto smiled at his increasingly flustered friend. “Feel like talking yet?”

“Stohohohohohohop!”

“All right, guess I gotta bring out the big guns.” The brunette let up on his tickling and shimmied down Haru’s body to straddle his calves instead, pinning his legs to the floor. He glanced behind him just briefly to get an idea of where his feet were, then began scratching ruthlessly at the bare soles, watching in satisfaction as his normally silent friend absolutely shrieked with giggles.

“Ehehehehehehehehe! Nohohohohohoho, Mahahahahahakoto!” Haru pounded the carpet with his fists, laughing quietly but uncontrollably, unable to even wiggle his feet away thanks to the position he was in. He tried rolling over but could only flail uselessly, and seeing that triumphant smirk on his friend’s face was not helping this tickle any less. “Stohohohohohohohohop it!”

“Favorite cereal, Haru. Tell me.”

“I dohohohohohon’t eat cehehehehehereal! Plehehehehehehehease!”

“Lying won’t get you out of this situation, I’m afraid. Better talk before I go for the toes.”

Haru yelped, then slapped a hand over his mouth. “Nonono not the tohohohohohoes!”

Makoto grinned, his friend’s unique brand of hysterics making him feel giddy as well. Haru was quiet in all respects – even in his laughter, which never rose above a low chuckling even when his worst spot was being tickled mercilessly like this. The brunette knew that it was still unbearable, however, and that continuing at this pace should break him in another minute or so.

Sure enough, just a few seconds later, Haru was giggling his defeat. “Okahahahahahay, okay, fine! It’s Cocoa Puhuhuhuhuhuhuffs! Cocoa Puffs! Please, stohohohohohop!”

Makoto laughed. “You like Cocoa Puffs?! No way! Say you're cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!"

“Stop tihihihihihickling mehehehehe!”

“Say it!” Makoto demanded, grinning. Oh, how he wished he’d gotten his phone out for this.

Haru’s cheeks and ears turned a dark shade of red as he squealed into the carpet, “I-I’m cuckoo for Cocohohohohoa Puffs! Plehehehease – Makoto, please, no mohohohohohohore!”

Finally the brunette let up, laughing himself at how cute Haru was being. He couldn’t believe he’d actually gotten him to say it! “That was great, Haru! Man, you must be more ticklish than I thought you were!”

“That was mean,” the ravenette muttered into the ground, covering his head with his arm. “Stop laughing at me. You wouldn’t stop until I said it.”

Makoto’s giggles died down, but his smile stayed in place. “Hey, you know I wasn’t trying to be mean. I just never hear you laugh, you know? It’s addicting. I wanted to draw it out as long as I could.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t you ‘whatever’ me. I’ll tickle you again if I have to.”

Haru squeaked, scrambling away from his friend in a hurry, shooting a nervous smile over his shoulder. “Don’t!”

Makoto smirked, wiggling his fingers playfully. “Why don’t we discuss dessert next?”

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