itslittlegiggle

[itslittlegiggle]

Discoveries and Desperation

(I saw after I sent that ask that ur always taking submissions! here u go :) also… sorry about that title but that’s as good as ive got lol)

thanks so much for submitting, this is super cute! x ~raspberry

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Remus was lying in his four-poster reading Advanced Rune Translation when Sirius slouched through the door. Sirius had a split second to admire how studious yet disheveled Remus was looking before he flopped down on top of him, knocking the book aside.

“Oof. How was Quidditch practice?”

“I’m tired,” Sirius whined. “James made us do that sprint thing seven times because of the Slytherin match. I want to take a nap.”

“Okay,” said Remus. “I’m just working on this essay, you can nap-”

“No, you have to nap with me.”

Keep reading

[itslittlegiggle]

Thank you so much for commissioning me ,sweetheart. You were so patient and understanding since the beginning 🥺❤️❤️

Thank you so much. Your support is very important to me, @otomiyaa ⚘️💓✨️

I'm back (kind of), and since February 7, it's ppy's 2 years birthday party, I'm gonna think about an event! What do you guys think about creating an oc together and wreaking them afterward?

Also, I'm taking commissions again!

[itslittlegiggle]

Tickletober Day 9: Ganged Up On

(yes almost all of my tickletober stuff so far has Fall themes. got a problem with that? shit’s on-brand, mmkay?

this one goes out to my fave who doesn’t get enough love: Ron)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters: Ron, Fred, George, Harry

“Piss off!”

“Give it up, Ronnikins!”

“We got you now!”

Stupid legs! Stupid awkward growth! Ron hadn’t bulked up juuust quite yet, but his limbs were all hanging and too long, so he looked and moved odd. They most certainly did not help when he was decidedly not trying to be clumsy while running away from his brothers and an eager Harry behind them. 

“Get off–Fred!” Ron almost whined but it came off as more of a surprised crack in his voice when Fred hooked an arm around his waist to keep him from running. He fought Fred off, but as soon as he stumbled into his room, George and Fred tumbled in right after him and threw themselves at him. They collapsed onto the floor in a very messy pile, Ron throwing out protests and curses the whole time. 

“He’s quite the fighter,” good old Chosen Boy Harry decided to say from the doorway, smiling. 

“Oh, he gets even better!” George chided as he goosed Ron’s lower ribs when Fred basically had their younger brother in a headlock that trapped his hands up, as well.

“No! Don’t! C’mon, just-just bugger off–” a sort-of elephant noise was squeezed out from Ron’s tightly shut lips when he clammed up all of a sudden. It was like a balloon about to let out air. George had started to rub his knuckles right in between Ron’s ribs, harsh and precise. Ron kicked out violently, twisting in a way Harry didn’t think was safe for him to do. And then he laughed. Harry beamed. He’d never been able to get Ron this good before because the guy just didn’t seem to be that ticklish. And Ron would turn it on Harry at a moment’s notice. 

“Like a fish on a hook, eh?”

“More like worm on a hook, Freddie.”

“Ahh, you’re right.”

As George moved down towards Ron’s knees, where Harry assumed he was trying to pin his wildly thrashing legs, Fred had maneuvered one free arm out to keep playing Ron’s ribs like a piano, digging in and out of bone. Each new poke sent a piercing shriek from Ron into the air. But Harry noticed that George wasn’t sitting idle. He was taking a simple thumb and forefinger from each hand and pincering the meat of Ron’s kneecaps. Harry shuddered, not imagining how that would be feeling on still developing teenage knees. 

“Stohohop! Stop! Frehed–George!” Ron babbled a bit before he laughed some more, frantic and manic. Then he peeked through his teary eyes and yelled out his first, “Harry!”

Hearing his name shook Harry from whatever tickle hell he was picturing in his mind and he looked at Ron’s red face beneath the mop of red hair. He smiled softly now, pitifully.

“Oi, he’s got a point. Harry, why don’t you come and join us?” Fred encouraged.

“We’ve got a doozy for ya, Harry,” George added, leaning back to scribble his digits along Ron’s socked soles. Ron snorted that time. 

“What shall I do?” Harry asked the twins, playing into the game, as knelt by Ron’s side. 

“Ronnikins quite loves raspberries. Don’t you, Ickle Bickle Wonnikins?” Fred reached around and pinched Ron’s cheek. Ron shook his head, and when that didn’t work, tried to bite at Fred’s fingers.

Harry showed the purest lopsided grin as he looked from twin to twin and then to Ron. Poor Ron. Adorable Ron. 

“H-Harry,” Ron’s voice cracked and sounded so airy and high-pitched, “You don’t have to listen to them, you know.”

There was a pause. Neither twin even made a quip.

“I know, Ron,” Harry finally answered, like he was on his friend’s side and repenting all he let the twins do to him, “I want to do this,” and he shoved Ron’s sweater up, Fred hooked Ron’s arms even tighter in his own grip, and Harry blew a very sloppy raspberry onto Ron’s pale belly. 

Ron cackled. He was beside himself with laughter. It jumped, it dove, it turned into quick spurts of gasps and splutters. It was a chorus all in one person. 

By the end of Harry’s fifth raspberry, he and the twins were laughing right along with Ron. It was all too hilarious not to laugh. And the twins loosened their grip, and Harry politely pulled Ron’s thick sweater back down over his stomach. 

Ron was too red and out of breath to even come up with insults. He would murder them, he really bloody would. But seeing and hearing the lot of them laughing, not as much at him as with him, well… it just made him smile. 

[itslittlegiggle]

OOH OOH OOH could you do Sirius tickling Remus please! Maybe like Remus is somehow annoying Sirius and Sirius is like "stooop" and Remus is like "make me" and then you know what comes next

I hope this fits the profile of Remus being annoying! (In Sirius’ mind it does.) x

“No.”

“Please?”

“No, Sirius.”

“Come on Moony, don’t be such a bore.”

Remus set down him quill and turned to stare with narrowed eyes at Sirius, who gazed wide-eyed back, legs of his chair tipped back as he tossed a ball - that he’d no doubt nicked from James - into the air. Remus sighed. “Sirius. I’m not going to go for a walk with you. I’m not going to harass the giant squid with you. I’m not going to go flying with you, and I’m not going to play ‘a quick game’ of Quidditch with you. I don’t even play Quidditch. I’m not going to let the fact that you’re bored distract me from my studying.” He picked his quill back up and resumed note-taking, paying no attention to Sirius’ pouting expression.

Keep reading

[itslittlegiggle]

well 🧍‍♀️ as a reminder this blog is NOT a safe space for trump supporters but it IS a safe place for women, queers, trans ppl, people of color, undocumented people, and any marginalized group.

[itslittlegiggle]

CONGRATS on the followers! I am a lurker myself--sometimes I am theatre!anon & on n's blog I'm Remyloving!anon...but if I can still send you a drabble prompt: Remus/Sirius, wrestling!

It is most certainly alright for you to have sent me this prompt! :) Drabbles as promised (even though no one gave me fic recs…) and I’ll see how many I’ll be able to get done today. Oh, how I’ve missed my laptop.

…

“We’re too old for this,” Remus says, letting out a breathless laugh as he pins one of Sirius’ wrists to the ground above his head. His boyfriend grins back and swiftly flips them over, trapping Remus on the floor beneath him.

“You’re only saying that because I’m winning,” he teases, gripping each of Remus’ wrists in his hands. “It might behoove you to give up now.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of using such complex words as - no, Sirius that’s cheheheatihing!” Remus exclaims, bursting into giggles as the dark-haired boy buries his face in Remus’ throat. “You ahahahass, stohohop!”

“Mmmm, no.” Sirius nuzzles deeper into Remus’ neck, long hair tickling the sensitive skin. “However, I will accept your unconditional surrender.”

Remus can feel the other boy’s grin against his neck, and as Sirius purposefully pokes his nose underneath Remus’ chin he laughs harder. “Fihihine, I surrender! Just stohohop-”

With a chuckle Sirius pulls away and rolls off of Remus before sitting up and pulling him into his lap. “I win,” he says smugly, kissing the shell of Remus’ ear.

Remus huffs out a laugh. “Alright then, what exactly do you win?”

Sirius plants another kiss, this time on his neck. “You.”

[itslittlegiggle]

Sup bitches im back

Been a hot sec since I've written but I'm trying to get back on track, trust me. I've been thinking of writing some dorlene cause I've got a decent idea but we'll see 🤷‍♀️ but for now here's a super short wolfstar fic

So yeah enjoy

Throughout the time that Sirius and Remus' relationship was kept a secret the two rarely found time alone together.

But in the rare moments that the pair were alone, those memories were very dear to Remus. They would usually sneak off to an vacant broom closet or their dorm, when it was empty.

Recently, it was getting harder and harder to keep this intimacy a secret. This time the couple was in a far off closest that was simi-filled with cleaning supplies that Filch had probably used in the past, but forgot about.

Sirius had said the it was one of their most cliché hiding places and Remus was inclined to agree, though, most of their hiding places were cliché.

Sirius sniffed the air as he and Remus clambered into the small space. It smelled like dust and old soap.. and something that smelled like Kreatcher.

He soon forgot about the smell when Remus started kissing him though. He loved it when Remus initiated it, showing that he was as excited as Sirius was.

Sure he had a broom digging into his shoulder blade, but he was snogging Remus Lupin so it was worth it.

His hands started to travel, no longer holding onto Remus' hair but gliding downwards. His hands stopped at Remus' belt loops, using them to pull Remus closer so that their bodies were pressed together.

His hands went down a little further to rest on Remus' hips. Soon his mouth was trailing down too, his kisses going from Remus' mouth to his lip to his chin to his jaw. Sirius' hands automatically squeezed Remus' hips as he started kissing underneath his jaw.

Remus yelped and grabbed Sirius' hands. Sirius immediately pulled back, looking up at Remus. He hoped he hadn't hurt him.

"Are you okay?" Sirius immediately asked, worry in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Remus said, holding Sirius' hands. "You just tickled me accidentally, it's alright."

"What? Where?" Sirius laughed. This had happened a few times before and every time Sirius couldn't help but chuckle about it.

"Just my hip and a little bit on my jaw-" Remus interrupted himself with a laugh when Sirius squeezed his hip again. "Stohop that!"

"I swear, you get more and more ticklish every day." Sirius grinned at Remus who had grabbed his hands again.

"I do not." Remus retorted.

"You really do." Sirius kissed Remus' jaw again.

"Stop." Remus leaned his head away.

"Can't help it, you're just too cute to not mess with." Sirius smirked when Remus eyerolled.

As they went on Sirius may or may not have squeezed Remus' hips on purpose just to hear his breath hitch. Remus was too shy to say he didn't fully mind it.

Hope you liked

[itslittlegiggle]

Sup bitches im back

and today I come before you once again with a new wolfstar fic cause I am currently obsessing over them

now I haven't had the beat luck with fic ideas and such but please if anyone has any headcanons/requests/prompts for me I will gladly take them (as long as they are in my fandoms ofc)

but anywayy enjoy!

"Sirius, will you come here?" Remus' voice rang out from their shared dorm room.

Sirius was currently sitting downstairs and watching James and Peter play exploding snap while he sat on the armchair next to them, chatting with them. He excused himself and ran up the stairs to the dorm to find Remus sitting on the floor in front of the foot of his bed, books and papers scattered around him.

"Woah," Sirius mumbled looking at the mess. "Did your work explode or..?"

"No, I'm just studying." Remus looked around but shook his head, returning his attention to Sirius. "Will you help me study? I've been practicing and I want to test my knowledge."

"Do I have to?" Sirius asked but was already sitting down in front of Remus, reaching for the question and answer sheet.

"No, but I knew you'd say yes." Remus grinned.

"Fine but if I'm helping you study then I'm making it fun." Sirius replied, a slight grin on his face.

Remus gave him a questioning look. "How so?"

"Everytime you get an answer wrong, you have to endure a punishment."

Remus paused. "What's the catch?" He knew Sirius too well for there not to be a catch.

"I get to pick the punishment." Sirius grinned.

"Hell no."

"Remus, please!"

"No, you're gonna pick something awful!"

"I guess you're not getting any help with your studying then."

"I'll just ask James to help me." Remus folded his arms.

Sirius eyerolled. "You know what, fine! I promise not to make it anything really bad."

Remus paused again in thought. "Fine."

"Yes!" Sirius pumped his fist in triumph.

"What's the punishment then?"

"You'll find out." Sirius answered. "Oh stop complaining, just don't get it wrong and you'll be fine!" Sirius said after Remus groaned again.

"Alright then, first question. What does the spell 'reparifarge' do?"

"Undo transfigurations." Remus answered.

"Good job." Sirius replied. "What is a group of bowtruckles called?"

"A branch." Remus said.

They went through a few more questions, with Remus easily answering them without a sweat.

"What property do you have to account for in transfiguration?"

Sirius looked up when Remus didn't answer to find Remus thinking hard while looking at the floorboards.

"You gonna answer?" Sirius grinned.

"It has something to do with their body or something." Remus finally answered.

"Wrong!" Sirius laughed and tackled Remus into a bear hug.

"What?!" Remus yelled. "What are you doing? Sihihirius, h-hey!"

While Remus was distracted Sirius had already begun his punishment. He wiggled fingers against Remus' ribs, using the hug to trap his arms so all he could do was squirm.

"Nohoho, not thihis!!" Remus fought to try and free his arms.

"For every time you get a question wrong I get to tickle you for 30 seconds to a minute, depending on how much you put up a resistance. The more resistance, the more time you get tickled." Sirius said.

"This is sohoho unfair!" Remus rolled onto his back, letting Sirius straddle him with his legs.

"You'll be fine, you're almost done." Sirius snuck his hands under Remus' shirt and lightly wiggled his fingers on his belly and sides, enjoying the giggles that resulted.

He soon hopped off Remus and let him catch his breath while he picked a new question.

"The answer to the last question was the target's weight."

"How is that not having to do with the body!" Remus shouted.

"You guessed, you didn't know the answer!" Sirius shouted back. "Now shush, I'm giving you your next question." Remus eyerolled but complied.

"How many stair-cases are in hogwarts?" Sirius grinned.

"You just put that in there, that's not one of my questions!" Remus said, curling up to defend himself from any oncoming attacks.

"So you give up?" Sirius said, leaning forward with wiggling fingers.

"142!! Sirius don't, tha-haha-that's the right answer." Remus rushed, grabbing Sirius' hands before they could touch him.

"Alright, I'll let that one slide." Sirius sat back.

"When was the werewolf code of conduct made?"

"..."

"Remus, you should know this!"

"I don't know!? I can't think cause I know you're gonna tickle- nohoho!!"

Sirius fluttered his fingers against the sides of Remus' neck before he could finish, eliciting sweet giggles from the poor boy.

Remus scrunched his neck and squirmed to the best the his abilities but Sirius only scolded him and went for worse spots (his hips).

After what felt like an eternity Sirius finally climbed off him.

"This one's easy, name a magical plant whose roots can be used in many potions."

"Va-Valerian." Remus panted from where he was laying on the floor from Sirius' previous attack.

They went on for a while like that going back and forth between tickling and getting the answers correct.

"Okay, last one and we're finished." Sirius said.

"Thank Merlin." Remus sighed, earning him a few rib pokes.

"What potion is most effective against banshees?"

"The laughing potion." Remus eyerolled but was smiling all the same.

"That's right!" Sirius leaned over and kissed Remus on the cheek then the lips, sneaking in a side ticke once they pulled apart.

"You did better than I thought you would." Sirius confessed as he began helping Remus pick up all the quills, papers, and books still scattered around.

"I still think you snuck in some questions that I didn't actually put on there." Remus smirked.

"Who me? I would never" Sirius scoffed.

Remus laughed and forgot about it for the time being but got his revenge later. And even if Sirius was slightly annoying in the moment Remus passed the tests he took thanks to Sirius, and still look back fondly at the memory and thought of it often when he was particularly missing Sirius.

Hope you liked!

[itslittlegiggle]

Request for lee Lupin, if maybe possible? Local werewolf needs some tiggles:)

LUPIN 💖 Both as a child and now I still adore this character TwT

And yes, I take every opportunity to draw Sirius again *continues to ignore canon events*

[itslittlegiggle]

guys i am lowkey suddenly obsessed with percy weasley x oliver wood. i saw one (1) tiktok comment about them and Yes

is that like a good/liked ship???? chat am i Cooked

[itslittlegiggle]

PLEASE I LOVE YAMAGUCHI!!!!!

A/N: 1 of 4 little fics written for very special and loving @wertzunge for a little Secret Santa event 💖

Summary: 🤫

Words: 1.5k

“Tsukki, that looks terrible- ouch!” Kuroo brought his hand to his nose, surprised by the pain caused by the tape Tsukishima threw at him. His face contorted in pain as he rubbed his nose, and tears began to fill his eyes. “That was mean!”

“You were mean first and your wrapping certainly doesn't look any better,” Tsukishima said, sparing a quick look at the present between Kuroo’s hands.

Well… he wasn't wrong. Kuroo pouted and frowned as he looked down at the mess in front of him. Too much tape and the paper was crooked and crinkled; it certainly looked like a kid had wrapped this up. Kuroo sighed, quickly unwrapping the gift and starting over. 

They didn't have much time left. Yamaguchi would arrive any minute now and if he were to see all of this, the whole surprise would be ruined; but how did they end up in this mess of Christmas paper, tape and ribbons?

The answer was, of course, Yamaguchi. 

Earlier that day, Yamaguchi had told them that he had some errands to run and would be gone for most of the day. His roommates had acted nonchalantly, even wishing him a good trip, but they both knew this was their golden opportunity. 

Both Kuroo and Tsukishima had a soft spot for Yamaguchi, it had always been that way. He was truly an angel, always willing to help his roommates and being the calmest and most talented person in the world, at least for Kuroo and Tsukishima. So, it was impossible for them not to want to drown Yamaguchi in gifts this Christmas, after all, it was their first Christmas together in their apartment, it was an occasion that had to be celebrated.

After Yamaguchi had left the apartment, Kuroo and Tsukishima hurriedly changed into going out clothes and ran out of the apartment in their search for the perfect gifts: clothes, a new backpack, a speaker, new headphones– they really went overboard. When they realized, they could not carry any more bags, and it was at that moment that they decided to end their mission and return home, not before stopping to buy wrapping paper and ribbons. 

"Yamaguchi said he'd be here at six," Kuroo glanced at his watch for the tenth time in the past few minutes; he could hear the pitter patter of the rain outside. "We have an hour and a half to finish. Will that be enough?" His voice was filled with anxiety as he looked at Tsukishima, who was wrapping his third gift with trembling hands, whining as he cut himself again with the paper. 

“I don't know,” Tsukishima said sincerely, glancing at his own watch one more time and licking his lips nervously as he grabbed another box from the pile to wrap it up. “We should hurry either way, if he actually arrives before we–”

“I'm back~!” 

The door suddenly opened and Kuroo and Tsukishima froze. The sound of the keys falling on the hook and Yamaguchi's murmur as he took off his jacket made them feel like they were caught. They both stared at each other with wide eyes, their noses tingling with the faint scent of rain filling the room, before turning their head towards the door, where Yamaguchi was taking his sneakers off.

He looked at them with a curious smile, his head tilted to the side like a confused bird, after all, it was strange to see them on the living room floor, luckily for them, the couch prevented Yamaguchi from seeing the whole mess and his gifts scattered all around the carpet on the floor. 

“What are you both doing?” Yamaguchi's voice sounded innocent, genuine, but Kuroo and Tsukishima knew they couldn't let him see his gifts. 

However, it wasn't like they could keep the boy standing there at the door until they were done, besides–

“What are you doing here?!” Kuroo shrieked as Tsukishima quickly tried to gather everything and pull it away, but where was he going to hide all that?! 

Yamaguchi chuckled, ruffling his hair to get rid of some rain droplets. “I finished quicker than I thought and since it started raining, I hurried back home, but seriously, what are you doing there? Is that wrapping paper?” Yamaguchi asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Do something!” Tsukishima yelled in a whisper as he hit Kuroo's arm and the former Nekoma captain jumped up in his feet, startling Yamaguchi who was heading to the living room.

“You can't come here!”

Slap!

Tsukishima facepalmed himself and Kuroo cringed. “You're so stupid!” 

“I can't… come into the living room? Are you guys hiding something from me? I want to see!” 

Kuroo ran to meet Yamaguchi, who was only two steps away from seeing all his surprises. Kuroo stopped him by the shoulders and shook his head quickly. 

“Y-You really can't!” Kuroo could almost hear Tsukishima hitting his face again, but he didn't really know what to do. He had never been the best at lying, especially not to people he cared about, but there he was, trying to come up with excuses to deceive Yamaguchi. 

“Why?! This is my living room too!” Yamaguchi suddenly gasped, his hands moving up to grab at Kuroo's arms as the latter tried to push him away by the shoulders. “Could it be that you guys are hiding a gift for me?!” 

They had been caught.

“N-No! What- what makes you think that?!” 

Yamaguchi giggled, and in other circumstances, Kuroo would've thought the sound was cute, but at that moment, he was too nervous to even think about it. “You're a terrible liar, Tetsu-san, and Tsukki is awfully quiet, I know he's hiding something.” 

Why was he so smart?! Kuroo groaned mentally, licking his lips nervously as he racked his brains for ways to stop Yamaguchi, who was laughing as he fought Kuroo off the way. He really was going to see the whole thing and– 

“Let me see! I promise I'll act surprised on Christmas d-dahahahay! No! Nohohot tihihicklihing!”

Kuroo couldn't help but chuckle as Yamaguchi's giggles echoed throughout the room. The freckled boy grabbed onto Kuroo's wrists and tried to push them away from him, but Kuroo barely flinched as his fingers traveled up and down Yamaguchi's sides, causing him to squeal and giggle brightly.

Kuroo was sweating, laughing awkwardly as his cheeks flushed, tickling was seriously not the smartest way, but he still nervously looked back at Tsukishima. The blonde desperately tried to gather all the gifts, wrapped and not wrapped, and hide them somewhere, but there was literally nowhere to hide them in the living room! 

“Do something!” He mouthed to Kuroo and the former Nekoma captain fought the urge to groan, jolting and letting out a soft yelp when he felt fingers poking at his ribs. 

Yamaguchi tried to tickle him back, but Kuroo sped up his attack and his fingers quickly sank into Yamaguchi's ribs. The boy leaned forward, laughing harder and losing some of the strength in his hands. 

“Tehehetsu-sahahan! Plehehease! I pr-prohohomise I wohohon't lohohook!” 

It was Kuroo's mistake to believe him, but every word that came out of Yamaguchi's mouth was only the truth for them both, so he was really surprised when, after he stopped tickling Yamaguchi, the latter quickly recovered and advanced with an evil giggle towards the living room. 

Kuroo barely had time to gasp before Tsukishima had Yamaguchi pinned to the wooden floor, making him writhe with loud, hysterical laughter as he tickled his hips.

“NOHOT THEHERE! I'm sohohorry! I'm sohohorry!” 

Tsukishima gave Kuroo a look that said it all: 'Now you'll take care of that!'. Kuroo felt a chill run down his spine and he immediately took all the gifts to his room, after all, Yamaguchi was too busy laughing his head off to notice what was happening around him.

As Kuroo hid presents under his bed and in his closet, sweat making his shirt stick to his back, he could hear Yamaguchi begging Tsukishima to stop, promising that he would behave. 

“I know you will,” Tsukishima said to him, even making Kuroo feel nervous, “don't think you can fool me like stupid Tetsu-san.” 

“Oi!” 

“I wohohon't! I prohohomise I wohohon't! AHAHAHA! Plehehase, leave my hihihips alohohone!” 

Kuroo made about two more trips from the living room to his bedroom and back, while Tsukishima tickled all the places he knew perfectly well would make Yamaguchi scream with laughter. When he finally finished, Kuroo was breathless and his warm hand gently touched Tsukishima's shoulder, letting him know that he was done. 

Tsukishima looked back at him, but just as he did so, the three of them jumped when they heard a ‘crack!’ sound. The tickling stopped, Yamaguchi's laughter got stuck in his throat, and Kuroo and Tsukishima held their breath. The three quickly looked towards where the noise had come from and saw that a sphere had been accidentally kicked by Yamaguchi off the tree and now laid miserably on the floor, broken. 

Kuroo and Tsukishima looked at Yamaguchi and Yamaguchi looked at both of them, a glint of mischief in his eyes, his mouth twitching into a smile probably knowing the tickling wouldn't end there. 

“Oops?”

[itslittlegiggle]

Maybe the whole "you have to keep quiet" trope with Remus and Sirius, possibly where one of them is teasing the other during class?

I love your fics, you're awesome!

A/N: Thank you sm!!

“You have to keep quiet,” Sirius whispered into his neck, his grin audible in his voice. “Or else we’ll be in lots of trouble, Moony.”

Remus was having quite the trouble already. The closet small, a broom practically digging into his shoulder blade, and Sirius’ fingertips on his lower back. Combine that with the lips on his neck and it was a miracle Remus hadn’t giggled all the way to detention. They could hear no one outside, but some of their professors were known for their light steps and Remus wasn’t gonna risk it.

The problem with having to slap one palm over your own mouth? Using only one hand to fend off Sirius Black’s tickling fingers was damn near impossible and Sirius knew it.

Remus groaned as he moved one hand to his side, too close to worse spots for comfort while the other one remained dancing on the small of his back. Whatever Remus had thought they would do in here, this wasn’t it.

“Stop teasing,” he managed to say.

“Oh, but darling.” Sirius moved back long enough to catch his eye. “Teasing you’s the best part.”

[itslittlegiggle]

harry potter - tickle fight by *chirart

[itslittlegiggle]

Sweater Weather (Harry/Ron)

Summary: Harry acts on a temptation he’s had for a while now. (Inspired by this adorable art by my lovely friend @a-tea-bag!!! Enjoy!!!)

Mrs. Weasley had an amazing talent of always knitting her Christmas sweaters in the coziest over-sized fashion. No matter how much her children grew, she always made them the perfect amount of baggy, sleeves falling over hands and hems falling over their bums.

Harry, who was used to ill-fitting clothes from Dudley, liked the feeling of something large but still new, of something handmade, something made and gifted to him specifically.

Although, he was certainly guilty of stealing Ron’s maroon sweater now and again, loving the way it fell nearly to his knobby knees, engulfing him in warmth and comfort, the scent of Ron surrounding him, safety and happiness.

He definitely liked the sweater more on Ron himself though.

While Ron would whine about the maroon color, Harry thought it looked amazing on him, paired with pale skin and blue eyes. Plus, he loved the way it rose up whenever Ron stretched, revealing more freckled, fair skin.

Keep reading

[itslittlegiggle]

Hi! How about some Drarry or Wolfstar fic? Draco (Or Remus) is tired and Harry (Or Sirius) offers him a massage and then cheers up by tickling

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Sirius/Remus

Words: 555

“You look exhausted.”

Remus looked up, blinking once, twice. “That’s because I am.”

Sirius put his hands on his shoulders. “All right, nap time.”

“I’m not finished.”

“Will you ever be truly finished with work anyway? Come on, you can’t think like this.”

Remus reluctantly pushed his homework off the bed, Sirius taking its place before him. “If I fail I’ll blame you.”

“Sure you will. I’m sure they will all believe you.”

“You know they will.”

“Okay, Mr Grump. What will it take for you to shut your eyes for twenty minutes?”

“The apocalypse.”

“Now that’s one thing I cannot give you,” Sirius said, his hand finding Remus’ jaw. “But I can give you a massage.”

Sirius figured out years ago that the best way to get Remus to relax was to touch him. Any type of touch would do. Fingers in his hair, up and down his arm, spine, neck. He was out like a light on most nights since Sirius had decided to make it his personal mission to get him to sleep like a normal human being. But exams had kept him busy too, and neither of them had gotten much sleep the past week. Having seen the way his boyfriend hunched over books, he figured his back would thank him later.

Remus didn’t protest when Sirius had him lie down and roll over onto his stomach. He didn’t protest when he placed his hands on his shoulder blades, and he definitely didn’t protest when he started kneading the skin.

He did, however protest when Sirius’ hands started sliding downward about ten minutes later.

“Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“I know what you’re planning.”

“I’m not planning anything.”

“You think I don’t know you’re gonna sneak into my shirt, Padfoot?”

They had played this game before. Way too many times, according to Remus, but Sirius knew there was no malice behind his words. He was just too shy to admit he didn’t fully mind it.

Sirius, sitting on his thighs, smirked as Remus tried to twist his body to get a better look at him. “I’ll break up with you.”

“Sure you will.”

“I swear on it- no!”

Sirius had indeed shoved his hands under Remus’ shirt, fingers so light against the tender skin of his lower back. Remus was laughing only seconds in, too ticklish for his own good. Sirius adored it.

“This isn’t going to help me nap!” he cried, squirming and squirming and not succeeding in getting Sirius to even lose his balance.

“Oh, but it’ll tire you out properly. Have you seen the time?”

Remus’ laughter kicked up a notch when Sirius moved his hands to the sides, squeezing at the flesh in a way he knew his boyfriend couldn’t stand.

“Stop it, you pest!”

“You’re not nice,” Sirius said, clawing at his sides.  “Did you know that?”

Remus - somehow - managed to twist his body enough to throw Sirius off. It would be easy to pounce again, but he decided to stay curled up beside a giggly Remus, smiling as he watched him calm down.

“You sleepy yet?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Take a nap first.”

Remus rolled onto his back. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Can’t wait.”

“You’re such a sadist.”

“You know it.”

Remus slept through the entire night. Sirius didn’t find any reason to get up either.

[itslittlegiggle]

Out Of Your Shell (Harry/Cedric)

Summary: Cedric is trying to help Harry be less shy. He takes on some interesting methods. (Based on an anonymous prompt I got. Trying to break my writing block so I apologize if this isn’t as good as my other stuff lmfao.)

Contrary to popular belief, Harry didn’t enjoy the spotlight.

Spending his entire childhood literally hidden away, and then suddenly being thrown into a world where he was considered a celebrity…Well, it was a lot for an eleven-year-old boy to handle. It got easier over time, sure, and by the time he was in fifth year, he could at least handle the stares without feeling his stomach do flips. Sure, his cheeks still flushed and he stumbled over his words, but he was working on that, okay?

Cedric seemed to delight in the way Harry was always flustered, finding it adorable and another reason to playfully poke fun at him, which usually just resulted in Harry being more embarrassed than before (but unable to keep a grin off his face, proving that he really didn’t mind).

And although it was cute, it also kind of made Cedric sad to see the way Harry purposefully shrunk himself down and tried to hide. It made sense when they were out in Hogsmeade and Harry would push his hair in front of his scar to try and avert some eyes, but it was the little things: Muffling his laughter in the back of his hand, brushing off compliments, shrinking under praise.

And while Harry didn’t seem to be aware of it, Cedric quickly picked up on the behavior, and made it his mission to bring his boyfriend out of his shell, at least a little bit.

Keep reading

[itslittlegiggle]

how have i never read this before, this is INCREDIBLE

Trial and Error

a/n: because these two are my die hard otp and anything with male lees is just top tier... heavily based on @hypahticklish 's headcanons (which are now also my own) @ticklishraspberries (bc you asked <3)

Fandom: Harry Potter (Post-War Era)

Characters: Bill/Fleur, Charlie

Summary: When being married does not automatically mean Fleur knows everything about her husband.

3998 words

Warnings: minor nsfw

After the war, catching up on the simple things was top priority. For Fleur, that meant sitting out on the porch of Shell Cottage with a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. For Bill, it meant sleeping.

The many nights they had spent worrying, or running around, straight into another fight had been exhausting. And the loss of one of their own had struck deep in the Weasley family. Fred was on Bill's mind a lot, as was to be expected.

Taking a few weeks off of work allowed him to loose track of his own thoughts during the day. He had become quiet, reserved and Fleur couldn't blame him. She knew after a loss that great, Bill would likely never quite be the same, but she gave him the space to process his grief however he needed to.

Bill's day started early, before dawn, as it had become his new routine. He slipped out of bed, planted the gentlest of kisses to Fleur's forehead and left her to sleep some more. He climbed downstairs and stepped out onto the porch with a strong cup of tea, watching the distant horizon grow brighter ever so slowly.

Fixing up the old cottage, which had turned into their permanent home, was the most therapeutic way to get him through the day, Bill found. It reminded him of his teenage years, summers spent at the Burrow, building tree houses and forts out in the woods with his siblings.

By the time Fleur made her way downstairs, the sky was already bright and clear. The windows were open, allowing the cool summer morning breeze to fill the cottage and bring in the sweet, salty scent of the sea.

Fleur smiled as she spotted the steaming cup of coffee on the stove, waiting for her. Sipping at it carefully, she followed the sound of hammering to the back of the house.

Bill was crouched before a pile of wooden planks, methodically nailing one piece to another. Only when he heard the footsteps in the sand approach from behind, did he stop.

"Morning," Fleur greeted him sweetly, running her fingers lovingly through her husbands hair.

Bill smiled up at her, eyes squinted against the bright summer sky to make out her silhouette. "Hi."

Fleur smiled back, gently wiping some sand off his brow where it had stuck to his sweaty skin.

"Did I wake you?" Bill asked, eyes shut so none of the sand could fall into them.

Once the last of the sand was wiped off Bill face, and he was able to look at her again, Fleur shook her head. She gazed over the wooden frame splayed out before them. "What are you making?"

Bill set down the hammer and slowly rose to his feet.

The warm temperatures of the last few days had compelled him to banish all his shirts to the dresser. Fabric sticking to sweaty skin was not the kind of discomfort Bill wanted to deal with at the moment.

Fleur watched him roll his shoulders and stretch out his back after being hunched over for an extended period of time. She was convinced his freckles had doubled since the day before, if that was even possible.

"I remembered you saying it would be nice to keep some chickens," Bill replied, placing his hands on his hips.

Fleur's face broke out into a grin. "I did say that."

Bill looked down at her and couldn't help but be infected by her look of excitement. "Well, there you go."

Fleur wrapped an arm around his waist in a tight hug and planted a kiss against his shoulder. "Do you want some breakfast?"

Bill slung his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. "I would love some breakfast."

They looked at each other with adoration, leaning into each others embrace before kissing, sweet and intimate. Fleur released her grip on him first, pulling away. "Come on then, hungry husband," she teased with a pinch to his stomach.

Bill chuckled and followed her back inside. "Oh, Charlie sent an owl last night. He's heading back to Romania soon and wanted to spend his last couple days here, away from the Burrow."

Fleur smiled at Bill warmly. "Charlie knows he is welcome here any time, yes?"

Bill smiled back. "Already told him we'd be expecting him."

The rest of the morning passed in similar spirit. They made their breakfast, ate it outside where they could overlook the sea, talked when the need for it arose and sat in comfortable silence when it didn't.

Bill returned to his chicken coop and continued his work until the midday sun, which he had been able to avoid on that side of the house until then, finally came burning down on him.

Hot and tired, he took a cool shower, changed into a more comfortable pair of shorts and a t-shirt before settling down on the living room sofa for a nap.

Fleur found him there a little while later, snoring ever so softly. Not wanting to disturb him, she grabbed a cold drink from the fridge and returned to her book.

The story had her so engrossed that only the scuffing sounds of footsteps on wood finally tore her away.

"Bonjour."

She was greeted by a smug but welcoming face.

"Oh, Charlie! I didn't even hear you arrive. C'est bon de te voir." Fleur set her book down and got to her feet swiftly, greeting her brother-in-law with a hug and a kiss to each cheek.

Charlie had to be one of her favourite Weasley siblings. There was just something about the way he spoke to her, and anyone really, that made her feel like she had known him for years. In reality, she could count on one hand the times she had met him. But it was his approachable and easy-going nature, something that reminded her a lot of her first official meeting with Bill, that made her feel completely comfortable with being herself.

Charlie grinned at Fleur as they pulled apart from the hug. Although they were hardly two year apart in age, him and Bill could not be more different. Barely an inch taller than Fleur, who was on the taller side, Charlie was noticeably shorter than his older brother but boxier in his face and shoulders. His work with the dragons, the extensive physical contribution, had made him compact, sturdy, robust. Even the curls of wiry hair, his hazel eyes with more hints of brown than blue, the small gap at the front of his teeth. If it wasn't for the exact same shade of flaming red hair, it was hard to believe these two were related at all.

"What are you doing out here, all on your own?" he asked, giving her arm a warm squeeze.

Fleur gestured her head in the direction of the living room. "He's sleeping," she replied in a low voice.

"Oh, I see," Charlie whispered and a mischievous look slipped onto his face. "Guess that calls for a more advanced brotherly welcome."

Fleur narrowed her eyes at him but couldn't repress a chuckle, although she had no idea what he could mean. She gently slid the door open and a slither of light fell, almost perfectly, onto Bill's sleeping form on the sofa.

They stood in the doorway for a moment, Charlie peeking over Fleur's shoulder only to make a cooing sound.

"I think he doesn't really sleep much at night, so he naps a lot at the moment," Fleur told him, trying not to let her concern seep through too much.

Charlie patted her shoulder as he stepped past her, into the house. "Look at him, so sweet. So innocent. So oblivious." The way Charlie stood over his brother could have been menacing if it wasn't for the fact that Charlie was the complete opposite of menacing.

"Just, don't be mean," Fleur spoke gently, catching Charlie's eyes for a moment as he walked to the end of the sofa, where Bill's feet rested innocently over the arm rest.

Charlie placed a hand over his heart and winked at Fleur. "I'll keep him in one piece, I promise."

He slowly lowered his hand and let a single finger brush against the sole of an unsuspecting foot. It curled, then twitched, followed by a quiet noise of disapproval from Bill.

Charlie smirked and took hold of the other foot's ankle, holding it in place. Biting his lip, he repeated the motion, only this time he increased the pressure with every repetition.

At first it seemed that Bill would sleep through the assault but as an attempt to retract his leg failed, he began to stir awake. Blearily, his eyes fluttered open and fell upon the figure by his feet.

"Charlie?" Bill asked, his voice croaky with sleep.

Charlie grinned. "Hey, there, sleepy bum." He shook his brother's leg some, not letting up on its hold just yet. "Thought, just because you have your own place now, you would be safe?"

Bill rubbed his eyes and lifted his head, his brain taking a couple seconds to catch on. "Oh, come o-"

Before he could even finish the sentence, Charlie had twisted Bill's leg, forcing the rest of his body to flip from its back to its front. With the limited space of the sofa, the only direction for this was onto the floor.

There was a thud, but Bill managed to catch most of his weight with his hands. Now on the ground, his hands pressed flat beneath his shoulder as if about to do a push up. He groaned a little, his forehead thunking against the old rug. "Don't you think we're getting a bit too old- Char-ah-Ah!"

The younger brother had thrown himself on top of Bill in classic dog-pile fashion, except that his hands latched onto the victim's torso. Giggles erupted immediately after a grunt and a yelp. One side was getting pinched and squeezed while the other attempted to shield itself against a vicious armpit attack.

"Finish that sentence and find out how fucked you actually are right now," Charlie warned over Bill's laughter.

Fleur leaned over the back of the sofa, watching the scene unfold with fascination. She would have never guessed her husband to be this ticklish. The biggest reaction she had ever managed to get from him was a chuckle or a shiver whenever she grazed his neck or scrawled on his back with her nails. This was quite a different sight.

It had also been a while since she had heard Bill laugh like this, if ever. She watched Charlie's hands carefully, making sure to memorise his technique for future reference.

The tops of Bill's feet drummed against the floor, elbows flapping uselessly like a flightless bird. "Chaharlie!"

Charlie laughed at his brother's predicament, rough fingers taking his ribs apart casually. "What?"

"Stoh-aH-ahp!"

Charlie pretended to think but did not ease up. "I don't know. You seem so happy. I would hate to ruin that for you."

"You prihick!"

Bill jerked, trying to throw his brother off. However, wrangling young dragons for years gave Charlie quite the advantage. Using his knee to keep one of Bill's leg pinned in place was enough to retain the upper hand.

"I don't think sooo," Charlie sang with a smug grin.

"Fine," Bill huffed and reached behind him with both hands.

At first, Charlie thought he was just grappling at him, trying to pull him off but as soon as he felt one finger connect with bare skin, he knew he was doomed.

"Nononono, William, absolutely n-AHH!"

Bill had managed to find his brother's hips and held onto them in a claw-like grip. The tips of his fingers pushed upwards in minimal circular motions, forcing their way into the muscle tissue.

Incapacitated by the intense sensation, Charlie's attack faltered as he refocused his energy on protecting himself. With a warbled cry, he wriggled off Bill's back and onto the rug with a soft thud.

For a moment it seemed that an unspoken truce had fallen between them as they lay next to each other, panting. But only a moment later, Bill shot up to his knees, lunging for his brother's throat.

If the strangled cries weren't intermingled with strings of colourful swears and spluttering laughter, Fleur would have been convinced she was witnessing a murder. Upon closer inspection it became clear that Bill's fingers were not, in fact, crushing his brother's windpipe but rather kneading at his prominent trap muscles.

Charlie was incapable of forming words. He had managed to bring one knee between them before the attack, which kept Bill from flattening him, like Charlie had done to him before. But still, rather uselessly, it was just being crushed against his chest.

"You win!" Charlie was finally able to get out, his hands clutching Bill's wrists desperately. The fingers halted. "You win... Plehease... It's too much."

Bill grinned, self-satisfied, and backed off, resting against the base of the sofa. "You should know better than to ambush a man in his own house. Especially while he's asleep."

"It's good to see you too," Charlie replied breathlessly, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"I'm so glad I didn't grow up with brothers," Fleur spoke from behind the couch, amusement dripping from her voice.

Charlie looked at her passed Bill's head and grinned. "Well, we've got all the time in the world now to make up for that," he teased and he and Bill laughed. They reached for each others hands and pulled the other to their feet simultaneously before embracing each other in a tight hug.

After a big dinner and a couple glasses of wine, Bill and Fleur retired to their bedroom together, the first time in a while.

Charlie had already retreated to the guest room an hour or so ago and his dampened snores could be heard through the old walls.

"I forgot how funny he is," Fleur spoke quietly from where she stood in front of the mirror in her pyjamas, tying her hair into a loose braid. Bill was watching her from the bed, stripped down to his briefs. He rested his head against the headboard with a hum, smiling to himself.

Fleur walked up to the bed and looked at her husband. "We should visit him in Romania some time," she suggested as she climbed under the covers.

Bill rolled onto his side so that he was facing her and nodded. "Yeah, we should." He slung his arm around her waist and pulled Fleur close until their bodies were pressed together.

Fleur giggled and kissed him softly, letting her arms get crushed between them.

They made out lazily for a little while, taking in the other's scent before simply snuggling close.

"So, how come whenever I tickle you, I don't make you laugh like Charlie?" Fleur asked after a few minutes of silence.

The question took Bill by surprise. He chuckled, amused that this crucial question was on Fleur's mind while he had been thinking about asking his father for some spare chicken wire.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Bill teased, his fingers scribbling beneath Fleur's pyjama top long enough to elicit a squeal.

"Stop! Stop," she protested, hitting his chest and kneeing his thigh in an attempt to curl up. "He'll hear us."

"Who, Charlie?" Bill asked, letting up. "He would sleep through an explosion, trust me."

Fleur huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her face. "I would like to know, amour."

Bill gazed down at her, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you can be trusted with such delicate information."

Fleur gasped, playfully acting offended. "I'm your wife. I have a right to delicate information."

Bill bit his lip to stop from grinning. "I don't know. What if you use it against me to get your wicked ways?"

Fleur sat up, leaning close to Bill's face. "That's exactly why I need to know."

They both laughed, Fleur resting a hand on Bill's chest and squeezing his pec. "Either you tell me or I'll ask Charlie to teach me," she told him nonchalantly.

Bill watched her with a smile. "Charlie's has gone through more than 20 years of trial and error, you think he'll just give it up like that?"

Fleur narrowed her eyes some. "I have my ways. En outre, he told me I was his favourite."

Bill chuckled and suddenly shot up, throwing himself at Fleur. The Veela yelped and groaned at the sudden weight on top of her but was quickly thrown into a fit of laughter when Bill started squeezing and pinching at her thigh. "But it's so much more fun to torment you this way. Leveling the playing field would be so unreasonable."

Fleur rolled her head back, laughing loudly. She could feel her braid dangling off the edge of the bed and gripped onto Bill's arm tightly. The attacked ceased as quickly as it had begun.

Fleur closed her eyes as she caught her breath, intertwining her fingers with Bill's. "Tu es méchant," she mumbled.

Bill chuckled and squeezed her hand while pressing his lips to her cheek. "I know," he whispered back.

He straightened up, sitting cross-legged beside his wife's body, allowing her to drape a leg diagonally across his lap. "Your touch is too light."

Fleur's eyes fluttered opened and their gazes fixed on each other for a few long seconds. "That's it?" asked Fleur. "I'm too gentle?"

Bill shrugged placidly, absentmindedly fumbling with the hem of her pyjamas. "Basically. Your tickles are more relaxing and comforting."

Fleur scrambled up and got to her knees, her face inches from Bill's. "Arms up."

Bill blinked. "Wh- No." His elbows pressed closer to his body in anticipation, a familiar giddiness building in his stomach.

"I need to make sure you are telling me the truth," Fleur argued, trying to wiggle her fingers in-between his clamped arms but Bill kept fending her off.

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you? For me to just offer myself up to you? No, no, no, my love, you will have to work for that."

Fleur rolled her eyes with a snort and reached out, one hand clamping onto his waist just beneath his elbow's protection.

There was no initial reaction.

The fingers compressed with more pressure and determination than they usually dared. However, after a few more squeezes, the biggest reaction they were able to extract was an audible exhale through the nose.

Fleur dropped her hand with a small pout, looking at Bill's amused face.

"That was good," he told her, giving a reassuring smile.

"You didn't even laugh," Fleur grumbled.

"Cause I saw you coming a mile off. It was better, I promise." Bill couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching, overcome with adoration for his wife.

Fleur paused for a moment as she thought. Out of nowhere she grabbed Bill's face, her lips crashing against his.

Bill let out a surprised moan but was quick to return the affection. He was slowly forced onto his back as Fleur inched closer, eventually straddling his hips.

Fleur's tongue brushed his lower lip, persuading Bill to focus only on her. There was another moan, this time with a hint of greed behind it and Fleur could feel a set of warm, gentle hands gliding up her thighs.

The kiss was broken by a startled laugh bubbling up between them. Distracted enough to let his guard down, Fleur had dug her fingers between Bill's ribs, just how she had seen Charlie do it. Adamant to get a decent reaction this time, she used all of her weight to at least try and keep Bill in place.

"Ahand you s-Aah! Said Ihi- Shihiiit!"

Fleur grinned victoriously as Bill threw his head back with his eyes squeezed shut. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him.

His hands came up from her thighs to grab onto her wrists but it didn't seem like it was to push them away. Rather, he simply held on for support.

Fueled by the successful reaction, Fleur watched Bill's face closely as she inched one of her hands higher.

"Nnnn... Ohoh- Dohon't!" Bill shook his head.

Only one finger had made contact with armpit hair when Bill bucked. It wasn't a violent buck, but Fleur let herself be thrown off anyway. With a triumphant laugh she flopped down next to her breathless husband. "So much for 20 years of trial and error."

Bill laughed at her comment, a hand coming to rest against his sternum as his breath evened out again.

Fleur brushed some hair out of his face and planted a kiss to his temple before turning her back on him and pulling the covers over herself as if the last 15 minutes had never happened. "You're very attractive when you pretend not to enjoy it."

Heat travelled from Bill's face all the way to his chest. "Oh, yeah?" He tried to sound casual but had lost any control over his body for a moment.

"Uh-huh."

Bill got comfortable on his own side again, adjusting the covers.

"I think I'll have to do this every night now."

"Alright, alright," Bill interjected with half-hearted disapproval, moving close and wrapping his arm around her waist to draw her close against his chest. He felt her chuckle in his hold and a warm smile crept onto his face.

The image of Fleur overpowering him and taking him apart with just her hands sent butterflies to Bill's stomach.

As they drifted off, it felt as if the weight of the last few weeks had faded into a cloud of fog to the back of their minds.

Bill was able to sleep through the night and didn't wake until the sun was already shimmering through the curtains.

As if keeping to an unspoken agreement, the following days rarely passed without the sounds of a tickle fight filling the rooms of old Shell Cottage.