#spitballing ideas over here

[imagionationstation]

I am here to tempt you with evil Leo but not to his brother and Donnie is the one receiving the good feelings

~ELT

I AM SO TIRED I SHOULD BE SLEEPING

BUT MUCH LIKE RAFA, LEO HAUNTS MY SLUMBERS

“Just because you didn’t kill me, doesn’t mean he’ll trust you.”

Leo stares at him a moment, watching as the ninpo flickers up his arm, zipping into the collar around his neck, safely contained so he can stay bound and helpless in the corner where the Sensei left him.

He should be dead, but the timing was all wrong.

He’d found Donnie before anyone was supposed to. And Donnie had been terrified at the idea of watching him die. He couldn’t scar his little brother with that. He doesn’t understand. He’s not ready.

Burning eyes stare up him, sparking around the irises.

More ninpo dissipates.

Leo tilts his head, just so. “You don’t say.”

“You can’t really think he will? That any of them will?”

Leo walks over to his drugged brother, finally sleeping after so much stress. Poor thing only agreed to rest if Leo promised not to go anywhere. He could understand the sentiment. He wouldn’t want to be left drugged and restrained in an unknown area either.

He hates it. He hates that his hands had been tied. He hates that his brother is so smart. He always did manage to cause trouble with those big brains. It was his gift, and sometimes, Leo’s curse.

So smart, but so, so naive. So trusting. So easily confused.

The drugs weren’t meant for him. But when a plan goes wrong, a leader has to know how to improvise.

Irritation coats his actions as he brushes some of the dust from his arm and watches his shallow breaths. The tranqs should be wearing off soon. His hand lifts for the pressure point.

It might be vindicating to watch him squirm after all the trouble that he’d caused him. But. But. This isn’t really his fault, is it?

He stands, walks over to his annoying captive, and stops right in front of him. Narrowed eyes glare back, refusing to be intimated.

In one swift movement, Leo kicks him hard in the plastron.

He cries out and Donnie gasps awake.

His head jerks, half-lidded eyes glazed, and in the same instance he tries to rise, he falls against the wall. His head slumps, pupils dilated as ninja senses urge him to find the threat and fight.

Leo flies to his side. He sets a hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to process the weight, some of the frustration dying when frantic eyes lock on him. He’s confused, and Leo uses it.

"Shhh." Leo murmers as his little brother whines, disoriented. He cups his face, gingerly. "You're okay. You're safe. I’m here."

He shakes his head, trying to look around, but Leo holds him still.

A soft chirp slips out, a vulnerable sound that all of his brothers rarely, rarely make. It twists up his insides like nothing else can, and he’s suddenly aware that every late day spent wondering if they’d be okay without him seems wasteful. Of course they wouldn’t.

He can’t believe he let those turtles get in his head. That he’d actually let himself be manipulated into thinking that his little brothers could be fine. It sounds so stupid now.

Even his mind wasn’t unharmed by their invasive touch.

He’d just need to keep them from speaking ever again.

“Hey, hey, hey,” He coos as Donnie pants, slowing his struggle, but still tense in panic. Leo nods, smiling fondly at sleepy eyes. “I know. But it’s okay. I’ve got you. Just rest.”

Like the magic that brotherhood is, the fear melts away as Donnie lets his eyes close, leaning obediently into his hand. Leo presses their foreheads together, churring lightly, and supports him until his breathing evens out. And then he pulls away, familiar warmth oozing from his heart to fill his chest, swearing, "I've got you."

Donnie churrs, briefly, as his consciousness falls away.

And, right there, Leo forgives him for everything.

Because he knew it. He knew it.

They need him, just as much as he needs them.

So the Sensei stands, facing the watching turtle.

“Does that answer your question?”

“He’s drugged.”

“He trusts me.” Leo speaks over the nonsense. “More than anyone else in any world, they trust me. All the way down to their subconscious. They know with me- they’re safe.”

“Maybe you won’t hurt them but they won’t let you do this. We’re your fam-”

“You’re imposters playing pretend.” Leo hisses, crossing the distance. "And my brothers may never forgive me. They may be scared to follow me, but at the end of the day, I'm their brother. I am their Sensei. They'll still trust me with their lives because I would do anything for them. That trust is all the matters to me.”

"But you," Leo pulls out his sword and holds it close to his chest, right over his heart. "-cannot be trusted." He touches the plastron with the tip of his blade. "And one day, I'll help them see that."

“What are you going to do?” He asks, soft.

“What you guys do best.” The Sensei taps the broach on the belt of his sheath. “Lure my audience and put on a show.”

[starry-bi-sky]

Danielle and Danyal's meeting... very, very quickly goes very sour from, basically, the moment Danny steps into his room and finds Ellie sitting on his bed (strike one) and reading the comic books Tucker introduced him to (strike two). By the time she's looked up to address him, Danny has the door locked, and a hand hovering near the knife hidden under his shirt.

She gets her third strike when Danny, in a voice that could make the mountains tremble, demands to know how she got into his room, and she lies (with uncertainty of her decision growing in her chest) that Jazz let her in. Danny's hand shifts closer to his weapon, and he turns towards her fully, and says that Jazz would never let someone he didn’t know into his room, and who was she.

(Vlad Masters had underprepared Danielle for her meeting with Danny -- not out of any completely direct malicious intent, but he failed to mention just how... 'touchy' Daniel could be -- he failed to mention the scars littering up his arms, unhidden by the hoodie tee he meets Ellie in. He failed to mention that along with those scars, that Danny was visibly lean, capable of doing very real damage without the use of his powers.)

(He tells Ellie that he’s adopted, and that he is observant and clever, but ungrateful and has a bad attitude.)

Her final strike occurs when Ellie, trying to keep her facade of cheeriness, tells him that she’s his third cousin once removed. Immediately, Danny has his dagger pulled out, and Ellie finds herself with the cold metal of a blade pressing against her throat.

Danyal 'A.G' Fenton hasn’t killed since he arrived in Amity Park. At first it was because mother told him to keep a low profile, and killing would do the opposite of that. But, he's been slowly learning from his sister and friends over the years the value of human life. So it's become a combination of keeping his head down, and also that life has value to it.

But. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill, nor is he opposed to doing it if the situation calls for it. It just means that he doesn't do it. And ‘Danielle’ is an unknown in his room, claiming to be family to him, and appearing uncannily similar to him and his family. Either someone hired her and she was trying to pass herself off as a relative to him because that someone realized Danny was the biggest threat, or, his false death has been compromised, his mother was unable to tell him, and the league was aware he was alive.

No matter how he looks at it, this Danielle was a threat to him, his sister, his friends, to Damian, and to the Drs. Fenton. Danyal Fenton doesn't kill, but he has no problems doing so.

(Ellie, pinned under Danny’s knee and the blade to her neck, is too terrified to think of phasing out of his hold. Not that it would help, he would just chase after her.)

“You have broken into my home, dared to lie to my face, and when I demanded to know the truth, you dared lie to me again." Danny's scowl could cower even Skulker, his glacier blue eyes burning. "Your continual breath has been a favor from me, that I have graciously allowed, from the moment you entered my room, dahkil."

"So I will ask one more time," he hisses, "who. are. you."

Danielle, only a few months old, unprepared for the ice storm that is "Daniel" Fenton, and his clone in only flesh and blood, and not memories, immediately breaks. And tells him that she was his clone, that Vlad sent her to come capture him, and to please not kill her.

Danny's face twists with anger, Ellie thinks he's going to kill her anyways. Instead, he withdraws his knife and gets off her, stringing out curses in Arabic as he sheathes his weapon back into its hiding place faster than Ellie can blink.

He switches to English as she is collecting her bearings (and contemplating fleeing), and Danny paces the room like a tiger in a cage. "--of course that wretched, arrogant, peacocking little ingrate would do something so infuriating. I should have driven my sword into the shrivel of his heart when I had the chance--"

Ellie, for a moment, thinks of leaving while he is distracted. And starts to slowly creep away. But Danny notices instantly, and whirls on her. His too-bright eyes bore into her head: "Where do you think you're going."

"...I'm leaving."

And Danny scoffs at her, "Why? So you can fly back to Masters and tell him that you failed to capture me, and that I know that he cloned me?" He says, and Ellie remains silent -- that's exactly what she was going to do. "He will destroy you within seconds."

Of course, Ellie rears back in offense, and she finds the footing to glare at him. "He would not! He's my dad, he loves me!"

Danny gets in her face, glowering back with an equal intensity. "He does not." He snaps, "Vlad Masters has not a soul in his body nor a heart in his chest. He would sooner cut off the hand that helps him stand, than to take it along with him."

"If you're really made of my blood, then I will teach you only this: we bow not our heads nor our hearts to anyone." Danny's too-blue eyes narrow, and his voice dips into a hiss, "Especially not to a conniving snake like Masters. Your heart: cut it off, or cut it out. He will sooner leave you to bleed."

Then, he unlocks the door and drags her out before she has much time to act. And as he drags her down the hall he shoots Sam and Tucker a text, and they meet up at Nasty Burger. Ellie is a spitfire, but Danny has her too intimidated to leave.

"This is Danielle," he tells them bluntly as he corners her into the booth, "she's my clone. Masters created her."

Ellie is with them for a week, and somehow throughout that time, Danny manages to actually get her to like him throughout that time. He's callous, blunt, and full of sharp edges that you can cut yourself on. But when he's not spitting venom, he's fretting.

When he drags her back to the house after being with Sam and Tucker, he pulls her to Jazz's room and opens the door to tell her the same thing. "This is Danielle." He says upon abruptly opening the door, interrupting Jazz's studying as he pulls Ellie inside. "She is my clone, Masters created her. She needs clothes."

Then he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Ellie, in that moment, thinks that now's her chance to flee. But Jazz then squeals, and she is trapped in new arms, shaken around by Jazz Fenton, excited for a sister.

(Ellie finds herself complaining to Jazz that night, shoved into old pajamas. She's in utter disbelief that Jazz could care about a jerk like Danny.)

("He's rough around the edges, but Danny does care." Jazz tells her, combing through her hair with her fingers. "We've been working on it ever since he joined the family, but Danny warms up slowly. He's usually less stoney; I think your arrival spooked him.")

("Spooked him?" Ellie repeats, she doesn't believe it at all. "He has a funny way of showing it, he threatened to kill me!" And she turns around just in time to see Jazz's press her lips into a line.)

("He's... very protective. He'll deny if you ask him, but he worries a lot." Jazz's fingers find her hair again. "What I do know for certain though, is that he wouldn't have kept you here if he wasn't worried about you at least a little bit.")

(Ellie doubts it.)

But Ellie is indeed there for a week, and the day after her initially rocky introduction with Danny, he is a little bit kinder to her. Still kinda a bitch, but he's less harsh to her, if... almost uncomfortable around her. Flighty, kinda.

Whenever she gets mouthy at him though, he looks oddly smug about it and, infuriatingly enough, praises her attitude. He is very, very annoying. And still kinda terrifying. But hearing him shout insults via puns at someone during a ghost fight that happens that week lessens the intimidating factor,,, a little bit.

Things go about,,,, relatively,,,, similar to canon. In the sense that it ends with Ellie defecting from Vlad because she finds out that Danny was right and that Vlad didn't actually care about her. (And that Jazz had been right too; Danny, in his weird, mean way, had been worried about her as well)

Danny looks out of his depth as she talks about how he was right, and he cuts her off with a vaguely uncomfortable clearing of his throat. And gives her the most awkward, but genuine apology he can muster.

"I should've used more tact when telling you about Masters, and I... apologize for threatening you when we met. I was..." he makes a face like he's sucked on a particularly sour lemon, "worried. First about my family, and then later about you."

(Ellie will be damned: Jazz was right)

Before Ellie leaves, Danny puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her: "I wasn't kidding about what I said to you when we first met: you are of my blood, and as such, you do not bow your head nor your heart to anyone."

Ellie looks at him, thinks about the last week, and smiles like she's caught him in a trap. "What about Sam and Tucker then? And Jazz?"

Danny smiles, it's awkward and tilted, like his face isn't used to the gesture. "We bow not our hearts, but that doesn't mean we can't share."

[luv-again]

trying to figure out how amy's gonna perceive sonic in this particular part in my fic. bc ofc I want to acknowledge/honour amy's idle dialogue and mention him and the effect he has on her in a time so dire, yet so unimportant to anyone else - but I strive to portray that in a way that doesn't completely undermine him or compare him to shadow in any way

bc ofc, sonic has no time for her chao-rescuing malarkey. he has more important things to do and probably wouldn't bother with such a thing unless there was absolutely nothing more pressing. saving chao is more an amy endeavour anyway. but idk whether amy realises that, considering she doesn't seem to know a whole lot abt the black arms invasion (and tbh idrk how sonic and co. are dealing with this incident bc it all seems like they're doing different things then somehow getting caught up in it)

amy sees sonic as a safe space, that much is clear; a pillar of courage and that inspires her to walk the world without fear like he does

but shadow, who seemingly has something else on his plate, budged for her. the world around them is possibly crumbling, yet here he his, setting his goals aside to help a girl stuck and without hope. and she does recognise he does provide her comfort, however inadvertent that may be

I'm thinking she comes to realise sonic may not be who she wants or needs right now. and even though shadow doesn't have quite the same effect as sonic does, she does see him expelling the fear she had whilst alone. he doesn't waste time, he doesn't criticise (except maybe once at her faction neutrality bc he didn't quite understand then) and he lets her help alongside him even though she's not at her full strength (he doesn't know this)

sure, shadow isn't distracting her from the horrors around them, but he helps her confront it and manage it clearly, without those rose-coloured lens she has with sonic

she's faced head-on with reality with shadow and with him she begins to see she can walk through hellfire without being scorched

[sanchoyo]

I know ive asked this before but im seriously considering opening a monthly lil tier tip jar on my kofi (basically would function like a patreon lol, I can only work part time so itd be helpful to get a little extra...) if I did, is there anything specific yall would wanna see? rn my ideas are just loosely like...

-wips/sketch dump access

-monthly raffles for chibis/free icons monthly, monthly doodles for supporters (small sized...)

-speedpaint/process videos (tutorials??? on how I do certain thing if anyones curious abt anything specific??) and PDFs for comic pages and illustrations (not. all of them just Some??)

-early comic access/wips?? (i never want to paywall tm2, but letting people read it EARLY...is different. lol)

-discounts on regular commissions for being a supporter

anything else ppl are interested in? it would be art focused but im not strictly against the idea of writing stuff either if theres a demand for it??

[impossible-rat-babies]

idk if I’m gonna replay DT anytime soon but boy howdy I sure wish I could bc there’s stuff I wanna rotate

[harleybarbarahandler]

emerald or greta needs to write a movie starring these two as love interests

[genderqueerdykes]

the easiest way to tell if someone knows literally jack shit about lesbian history & community is if they try to tell you masc, male, ftm, genderfluid, multigender, genderqueer and/or non binary lesbians don't and can't exist. it's saying you haven't interacted with the lesbian community & its history outside of small isolated internet circles without ever having to even say it. you might claim that lesbians can't be men, mascs, multigender or non binary, but our history & community loudly and proudly states otherwise.

no matter how many times you tell people transmasculine, male, masc, genderfluid, genderqueer and nonbinary lesbians can't be lesbians, we will always be here to prove that's not the case. you can say it until you're blue in the face, it won't change reality. it doesn't matter what you believe a lesbian "should" be, it will never change reality. ideals don't work like that. you can think and think and think about what you Want a lesbian to be all day long, but that doesn't control anyone else who identifies as a lesbian.

you can sit there and bitch and moan and cry about how lesbianism is for women ONLY and that won't change our rich history of male, genderfluid, genderqueer, ftm, masc and genderfucked lesbians. no matter how much it pisses you off that these people exist, we will continue to do so for the rest of time. you can throw a fit, but it doesn't change how people identify in practice. sure you can sit there and say the Ideal lesbian is a 100% cis woman, but we don't live in an ideal world. we don't live in an isolated bubble

real life is complex and nuanced. you can sit there and spitball about queer theory all you want, but it's not going to change how complicated real identities are. it doesn't matter if it bugs you that there are lesbians out there that aren't women. what should be more important is caring about that person and making sure they're accepted. someone who is more invested in telling you what lesbians CAN'T be than what we CAN be is not here for queer COMMUNITY. they're here to try to be right and die on a hill and it's not worth our time. "lesbians can't ever be men ever" is not a hill to die on. it's historically inaccurate and it's just not worth stressing over. move on to greener pastures.

you personally as a lesbian don't like the idea of a lesbian man and don't want to date them? i have fantastic news for you: you don't have to! you can accept lesbian men and mascs even if you're not attracted to them. whether or not someone's identity is taken seriously shouldn't hinge on whether or not you personally are attracted to them. that's not your business, and not your experience. you're not the arbiter of that lived experience- you have no room to comment.

lesbian men, mascs & enbies are not your enemy: we are your family. we have been fighting for lesbian rights since the inception of the modern community. this community has been built off the backs of ftm, transmasc and male dykes and you can't ignore us any longer. if YOU want to be in the lesbian community, you have to understand that there will be people with identities you don't like. you don't have the right to tell them they're not a lesbian. it doesn't matter whether or not YOU like it- their identity is not about you.

[peachsayshi]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when gojo has a crush on geto's childhood best friend (pt. 2)

minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

ೃ⁀➷ notes: please read part one here. my baby boy is so sweet and sincere when he's love, even though it's doesn't always come across that way x

ೃ⁀➷ tags: angst and fluff; unrequited(ish) love; pining; hurt/comfort

♡ satoru gojo was not your type. he was cocky, arrogant, obnoxious, childish and a slew of other things that you found deeply unattractive in a man his age. he somehow always manages to take everything just a little too far for your liking. his extroverted persona a bit too overwhelming for you. suguru went on and on about him, but you really couldn't see the appeal. nor could you understand what drew suguru so deeply to him.

♡ okay, maybe he's just awkward, you think. after watching this tall, muscular man walk directly into a closed door mid-conversation. he banged his face so hard against it, he made a funny noise, and you had to suppress a laugh. "are you okay?" you asked concerned, and the man simply grumbled a yes as his cheeks turned a bright pink. it's the first time you saw him blush, and your heart fluttered at the sight.

♡ "look, I know he can be a lot, but you know he's my best friend. other than you, he's the only person I would give my life for," suguru stated honestly. you were both conversing over a tub of ice cream. you were sitting cross legged on the sofa, digging your spoon into the ice cream angrily. satoru made an inappropriate joke in front of everyone that humiliated you. you did not appreciate it one bit. you rolled your eyes and left in a bitter mood. suguru stopped by your place with the ice cream trying to console you.

♡ satoru's face visibly falls when you reject hanging out with him for a movie. two tickets in his hand that he pinches together. it was his way of apologizing apparently, but you were not going to entertain the idea of spending anytime alone with him. "look," you respond with a sigh, "I forgive you, okay? but I'm busy tonight.". it seems your follow up sparked something inside him. he lifts up his face, a small smile highlighting those annoyingly handsome features. "wait, so we are cool? you aren't mad about what I said?" he asks. you exhale, "yeah, we are cool."

♡ "I think you're being really hard on him," suguru stated casually. your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "the guy is obviously making an effort to get along with you, and you keep shutting him down". you stared at your best friend with accusing eyes. "why are you taking his side?" you replied with frustration. suguru gave you a knowing look. "I am not taking sides. but I will defend either of you if necessary." you reached for your arm and pinched it with slight shame. you didn't realize how difficult you were being. "just go easy on him," suguru added on. "if not for his sake, then at least for mine. I just want you guys to get along..."

♡ surprisingly, things started going really well with satoru after you began making the conscious effort to do so. you could even say that you both were starting to become friends. satoru revealed that he was actually quite smart when you both were alone together and not in front of a crowd. he's also insanely talented but downplayed himself quite frequently and nonchalantly. his confidence, his real confidence, about his talents and wits was always subdued. you wondered if the persona he puts on for people is to simply hide away this part of himself. your heart started to expand and contract tightly when you listened to him spitball on some random scientific fact mid-discussion. satoru's incessant chatter not so annoying to you after all. as a matter of fact, he actually had a really nice voice when he was speaking calmly. at one point, he smiled and mumbled that he needed to learn to shut up. he casually ran his long, slender fingers through his snowy hair and gave you a bashful glance. your heart pattered a little faster. he can be really cute when he wants to be.

♡ you're spending a lot more time alone with him. and it's nice. like really, really nice. he's bloomed into someone unexpected. someone that catches your eye in an entirely different way. you do eventually agree to watch a movie together. the two of you were snuggled close in the theatre, sharing a bowl of popcorn. at one point you both reached for the bucket at the same time, the warmth of satoru's touch grazing over your fingers and making your thighs tremble. "sorry," he whispered as he casually lifts his hand, but his hot breath fans your cheek. you gazed up to see that his face is quite close to yours, your eyes falling to his pretty lips then back up to the sparkling blues. "i-it's okay," you answer, taken aback by the proximity of him in your space. you fold your arms over your belly swimming with butterflies, suddenly too aware of your own emotions to eat anymore.

♡ you're falling for him, when did that start happening?

♡ oh. you like him. you like him more than you should. you haven't even told suguru about it and it's eating you up inside. you haven't even admitted it out loud to yourself and that makes you scared. but you can't stop looking at him. he looks so good in his outfit - dressed to kill, and capturing everyone's attention at the party. "who are you staring at?" shoko asks. you try to brush it off, but utahime points out the obvious. suddenly you're bombarded with questions, your words failing you as you try to give an explanation.

♡ they don't accuse you, but they are curious and their wonder spins into hundreds of questions. everyone knows that you didn't like satoru gojo. what suddenly changed?

♡ "satoru is really sweet, but...he's not my type..." you blurt out in an attempt to save yourself and to give yourself some space from the weight of your realization. but only then do you see the girl's expression drop as both their eyes look above your head.

♡ satoru looks back at you crestfallen, having clearly heard what you just said. no, you think, no no no.

♡ he tugs at his collar, "excuse me-" he states as he spins on his heel. you all watch him disappear, and you're suddenly standing there wishing that the ground will swallow you whole. suguru asks the girls to give you both some privacy. the two of you stand in silence for a bit, and you realize that your best friend is giving you a chance to catch your breath. "I have to go talk to him," you blurt out, a sense of panic in your eyes. suguru just smiles. he knows you so fucking well. he takes the drink from your hand and gestures towards the door with the tilt of his head.

♡ "satoru..." you call out quietly, finding him seated outside. he doesn't react like usual, just stares at the ground before clearing his throat. he wipes his hands on his thighs and stands upright, his broad shoulders slumping. he turns around to face you, and the expression makes your brows furrow with concern. "you don't have to say anything," he explains.

♡ he stands upright, slides both his hands in his pockets and exhales in defeat. "I think it's fairly obvious that I like you. But they're just feelings right? It'll go away. I don't want to keep bothering you or wasting your time..." "satoru..." you interrupt.

"you clearly don't feel the same way, and I-I don't want to come across as a creep or make you feel uncomfortable..." "satoru, please" you beg, taking a step closer. "look, it's fine..." he says with a big grin, his eyes glossy and making you ache. "I'm a big boy, I can take rejection..." "it's not fine," you murmur with a shake of your head. "I have clearly been forcing this, making up stories in my own head. I shouldn't...I shouldn't keep taking up your precious time..." he walks up two steps, ready to bypass you but you quickly loop your arm around his bicep and tug him back. "wait-" you stammer, and he halts. frozen, you gaze at each other in contemplation. your other hand reaches for his jaw, and his body stiffens against your touch. "just...wait..." you softly add on, trying to rationalize your own feelings and what this could all mean. you tilt your head up, your thumb outlining his jaw. your eyes fall to his parted lips, your own seeking him out. you kiss him sweetly, apologetically, affectionately.

satoru is stunned. his eyes fall hazy like he can't believe what just happened. he looks so cute that you can't help but smile, your thumb moves to swipe the lipstick over his bottom lip.

"I-..." he mumbles dreamily, slowly angling his body in your direction. he gulps down the raw hurt. "I thought I'm not your type..."

"you're not," you answer back cheekily, your arms moving to circle around his neck while his own hands find your hips. "but I think that's exactly why I like you. you're everything I didn't expect."

his forehead drops against yours as a wave of relief washes over him. "you like me?"

you nip at your bottom lip, teasing the tip of his nose with yours. "yeah," you answer a little breathlessly, before smiling into another kiss "I really do."

♡ when suguru wakes up the next morning, the first text he receives is from satoru. after you both disappeared from the party last night, he had to follow up.

suguru: let me guess, did you both kiss and make up? satoru: I just left her place, heading back to mine now. suguru: spare me any gross details please. satoru: I feel like I am dreaming. last night wasn't real suguru: pretty real, bud. so, don't fuck it up. satoru: just pinch me when you see me, alright? I need to make sure.

[rose-gold-bullet]

[𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤] Star-Lord x Reader

Summary: You're sent on a mission to another planet and catch the attention of your ally. This takes place in the Marvel Rivals Universe; this Star-Lord might vary from the MCU!

warnings: brief 'love interest protects you from a creep' trope, canon-typical violence in the beginning, chronic use of (Y/N) in this bad boy

Your vision is clouded by thick smoke as buildings come crashing down around you. In this war-torn city, there's nothing to count on but your instincts, your weapons-

"Woo-hoo! Two points for the Star-Lord!"

Oh, and your idiot ally who's somersaulting through the air. The two of you and four others were called here on a mission to transport something to somewhere; frankly, neither of you read the brief, but it doesn't seem like you needed to.

Your new friend, Star-Lord you think you heard him say, lands right in front you. With the area quiet and the haze finally dissipating, you both lower your weapons and check your surroundings. Though it's out of sight and being watched over by the rest of your team, you're sure the objective has just about reached its destination. You watch as he removes his mask to say something, and he's so pretty you almost miss the enemy movement coming from behind him.

"Hah! did you see tha-"

"Duck."

"Goose?" you groan and shove him to the floor for his protection as you raise your gun, knocking out the Psylocke who was racing to get you when your defenses were low.

"Ohh, Nice one! She's so quiet!" He cheers you on from the ground as you extend your arm to help him up, rolling your eyes but smiling at the flattery. Once he’s up, neither of you let go of each others arms for a moment. It takes you a second to realize you’ve stared at him for just a bit too long, and once you do you jerk your hand off him as though you’ve been burned and clear your throat. Just as you let go of each other, you hear Captain America shouting your names from a few streets over.

Once you're all grouped up, you're notified there's been no known casualties on either side and that the mission was a success. With that, you're all free to go, and you want nothing more than a peaceful, quiet walk on the way to the hotel you've booked for the night. With all this multiverse bullshit going on, it's been over a month since you were given approval to head back to Earth where you belonged. Travelling the universe has been exciting and all, but you can't help but miss home; the closest you've been able to find to it is a room for one built in a style you could maybe find somewhere on your planet.

"Hey! You!" you hear the sputtering of fuel behind you followed by a thump as your friendly pursuer lands as gracefully as he can beside you, "I never got your hero name!" Maybe this walk won't be as peaceful as you hoped.

You've seen him around before during missions, and he's even tried speaking to you a couple times, but you've just been so inside your head lately you've shut out just about everyone. As annoying as he might be, part of you is glad he's not the type to give up.

"I don't have one. (Y/N) is fine." You look up at him and catch the most upset look he could muster.

"(Y/N)? Fine normal name, I guess. But that can't be your hero name! I saw you out there, you were awesome!" You can't help but giggle at his enthusiasm, and his smile widens even more, "Tell you what, I'll come up with one for you."

Your giggle grows into a laugh, "Absolutely not, Star-Lord."

"What's wrong with Star-Lord? It's badass!" You want to say what you really think, that his name is both bad and ass, but it'd feel like kicking a friendly dog, so you swallow your jab.

"I guess it's a hero-name of some kind, which might be better than nothing." You humour him.

"So you'll let me pick?"

"I'll let you come up with ideas."

He proceeds to spitball the worst names you have ever heard in your entire life, which eventually spiral into any noun he can think of followed by 'lord'. You can tell that at a certain point he stopped trying and is just trying to make you laugh, but that doesn't mean it's not working.

"Gun-Lord?"

"Be- Because you saw me with a gun?" You can barely contain your giggles enough to answer.

"Too on the nose, huh?" He grins down at you, but you don't catch the adoration in his eyes.

Eventually you calm yourself down, "These suggestions have been so helpful, don't get me wrong, but I don't think we've found the winner quite yet."

"Give me a bit, maybe I'll come back tomorrow with some more heavy-hitters. We'll get you that name eventually. Where are we headed, by the way?" He looks around and notices you've reached the untouched part of the city, though the citizens are still, understandably, in a bit of a panic.

"I'm headed to my hotel. Where are you staying?"

"Pff, lame. I stay in a ship with my crew, you can stay there if you want!"

"Your... crew?"

"You haven't heard of us? The Guardians of the Galaxy?"

"Uhh, I might've heard that cute armed raccoon mention something like that? You know him?"

He laughs, "Don't call him that in front of him, he's a bit feral. But yeah, He works with me. So does Mantis and Groot."

"Weird crew you've got going on."

"You'd fit right in!" You can tell he definitely didn't mean it as an insult, "I'd have to get to know you a little better, but I think we could use someone like you, you know." You laugh again, but this time it's in disbelief. He can't be serious.

"I... I kind of have a life on Earth, I think. As tempting as it is to fuck off into space and do... space things together. I don't even know your name."

"I prefer Star-Lord, but Peter works too. And I think you're underestimating how cool the space things are. Come on, you're curious aren't you? Let me show you my ship."

You pause for a moment and think it over. You'd never join his crew, but there's just something about him that makes the thought of seeing him again so exciting. You wonder if other people find him so charming or just paint him as egotistical.

"Sure. Yeah. Meet me sometime tomorrow, maybe?"

"Your hotel, 10:00 AM?"

"Done."

You spend the rest of the walk talking mostly about Peter. You love asking the questions and he loves answering even more. You learn about his life in space, that he's not totally human like you thought, and you even get into discussing music by the time you've reached the lobby.

"I guess that's it for today." You try to hide your disappointment as you both stand a few feet from the front desk—you already know him well enough to sense he doesn't need more of an ego boost.

"Yeah. It was great running into you, you kicked ass on the field."

"You too," you look up at him but suddenly have the urge to avoid eye contact, "Thanks for walking me back."

"Anytime."

***

Your night at the hotel felt longer than usual and you couldn't quite make out why. Maybe the room just wasn't as comforting as it looked in the pictures. Maybe you didn't get as much sleep as you wanted because you were too excited to see this spaceship you've heard so much about. Whatever the case, 10:00AM couldn't come fast enough, and by 9:30, you were already sitting in the hotel lobby, your leg bouncing with excitement. You feverishly check your watch and sneak glances out the tall, sunlit windows hoping you'd see your talkative new friend. 'Relax. You're never this antsy over a man,' You try to tell yourself. You sigh and close your eyes to ground yourself a little more.

"Stood up?" A gravelly, unfamiliar voice asks you.

"Huh?" Your eyes shoot open and dart towards the stranger in front of you. He's older, lean, and a bit too close for comfort. You stand up and take a step back. He takes a step forward.

"I asked if you got stood up. A pretty lady like you shouldn't be all alone." You can smell the alcohol; he's probably from the hotel bar. 'This early? Gross.'

"No, I'm just a bit early. Thanks for your concern, but you can head back to the bar."

"You should join me. You'd have more fun with my buddies and I." You're not sure if you should knock his lights out now or try to get someone's attention; you absolutely hate making a scene, and you can't tell what would cause less of a disturbance to the otherwise empty lobby.

"This guy bothering you?" You feel a hand on your waist, and you hate to admit it, but it provides a sense of comfort. You fight your instinct to roll your eyes—of course he of all people would love to save the damsel in distress; he's probably practiced that line in the mirror.

Nevertheless, you lean into him to sell your relationship a bit more, "I think we're fine. He was just leaving."

The creep goes pale; Peter is large. Even when drunk, he knows there's no way in hell he was going to beat him in a fight.

"Uhh. That's right. Have a great day, you two." He stumbles back towards wherever he came from, and you quickly turn to face your saviour.

"My hero." Sarcasm drips from your voice, "Thank you for saving me, Star-Lord." You roll your eyes and everything, but after saying hero, nothing else could penetrate his skull.

He smiles widely and his face tints red at the use of his name, clearly oblivious to your mockery, "No problem! It's expected of a Guardian like me." You can't help but laugh; He's just so dumb.

On the way out of the lobby, you quickly check your watch—‘9:43; he’s early, too.’ You smile to yourself, trying to keep it subtle.

You sharply inhale the strange, almost Earth-like air as he leads you in the direction of the aircraft dock near the edge of the city.

"It's still strange to me that ship docks even exist," You try to break the silence, "We've never had a need on Earth."

"Yeah, it's mostly a No-Fly zone for the other planets. Doesn't help that there's not much there anyway."

"Earth has a lot of problems, but it's not bad, I think. Maybe you should visit sometime. I've only just left and I'm already pretty homesick." It's only a half-truth; You've felt this way since you've left your family for S.H.I.E.L.D—it's a lonely life, being a hero.

"... Maybe. I don't know. My home's on that ship now. I'm not even sure what family I've got left there on Terra." You can tell he's got mixed feelings about his life back on Earth. You know better than to pry.

You only notice now that his hand is still on your waist from the lobby once he sighs and tightens his grip around you a little. You're farther from Earth than you've ever been, but you notice that the closer you are to Peter, the less you feel that pit in your stomach telling you to come home. And it’s probably wishful thinking, but you hope that maybe he feels the same way around you.

***

"Who the flark is this?" You separate from Peter only to use him as a shield from the talking raccoon,

"Uh, we've been on missions together before? I'm the gun girl?" you squeak out from behind him. You wanted to make a good impression, but it's a little hard to do when you're the only one on the ship with manners.

He squints, "... Widow?"

"No, the other one."

"Oh." He completely loses interest in you and goes back to working on whatever death machine he's tinkering with. You're not sure whether to be relieved or take offence.

"Yeah, that's Rocket. He's a real sweetheart." Peter takes to holding your hand as he guides you through the ship, meeting the rest of his crew one by one. It's an interesting group on a near dysfunctional aircraft, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't see the appeal.

Eventually, Peter leads you to the cockpit. Your eyes widen as you step towards the control panel.

"You can actually fly this thing?" You ask in awe, with one hand still holding his and the other tracing over the dashboard. You don't need to look at him to hear the smugness in his voice,

"Yup. Pretty cool, right? We'd have to get a seat added for you if you stay with us long enough, but it shouldn't take long to install."

"And where would I sleep if I were to ditch my hotel like you mentioned?" Again, you're definitely not considering joining his crew. You just want out of that hotel and you have a healthy curiosity.

"Uh... There's always my room?" Your head jolts to Peter who's shooting you his best flirtatious grin. It's goofy.

You giggle, "Only if you're fine with sleeping on the floor." Truth be told, staying with him does sound a lot better than a dingy hotel with a lobby that serves alcohol at 9:00AM. But you're not the type to sleep with someone you've only just met, even if you really want to, and even if it's only in the literal sense. Besides, you like Peter, but it’s hard to know just how many cute girls received the same treatment before you.

"Fair enough," He sighs, "There's a spare bedroom that's all yours if you want it."

"I might just take you up on it. Did you know S.H.I.E.L.D isn't even covering my room costs? total bullshit." You tactically leave out that you can more than afford it and you just want to spend more time with him (and maybe Mantis, who seemed absolutely lovely).

"Sounds good, we'll both be here for a couple weeks anyway until we're given the go-ahead to... what was it? 'Fuck off and do space things?'"

"That's right."

"Right. So yeah, My ship is your ship or whatever. But not really." You giggle and note the possessiveness he has over the Milano, "Welcome aboard... Earth-Woman?"

"Absolutely not."

This time it's his turn to laugh, "The next one is gonna be killer though, Trust me."

You smile at him before gently squeezing his hand then letting go to fully face the cockpits windows. You can only imagine the stars and planets this ship has seen, captained by someone who, in your eyes, might be even prettier than the galaxy itself. Not that you'd ever say that to his face, of course.

***

As you tuck yourself into the spare bedroom you had to spend the day cleaning out (it was unknowingly used as a storage room for Rocket's stolen garbage), you notice that your typical sense of loneliness and dread is nowhere to be found. That homesickness you've been carrying for much longer than you'd left Earth has vanished completely, and you can't help but think it might have something to do with that handsome, snoring idiot who's in the room across from yours.

Notes: -2303 words

- please check out my ko-fi if u liked this! i’m a broke college student working full time, it’s hard to find the time to make these D:

-i'd love to make a sequel but its heavily dependent on how this first part performs! (that means you should like or reblog if u liked this ;)), without a part two this ones cute but on the underwhelming side imho -could be heavily out of character, I'm going almost exclusively off his voice lines in the game! feel free to shoot an ask recommending changes to the shot :) -nothing else to say, i love him so much <3

[knifeforkspooncup]

Merrily Chrysler and Happily Hollering to all the goblins who celebrate!

And extra love to my beloved mutuals! @haemey for reminding me to drink water and sharing your terrifing and impressive knowledge of music, hopefully one day I hear you sing in person and weep like a baby. @lickthecowhappy for being a Triple Gold Word Wizard Extraordinaire and certified hype demon, and making me laugh constantly, I appreciate u every day. @bellisima-writes for always being down to spitball writing ideas and for writing THE MOST (so proud of u, so in awe.) @hinekosama for your unhinged tags that always make me cackle and being an incredible vent session sounding board, you arw a true friend. @eybefioro for your incredible art (still losing it over fairly odd parents and power puff gorls) and fics and being the most hype in this fandom, i love reading your work and posts. @fearandhatred (i know ur probs not here but have my love anyways) for writing that feels like chewing glass in the best way and being a hater with me. Wolverpool is lucky to have u. Ur a freak never change.

And of course for @aspiring-pansy who was the first friend i made here. I'll always cherish the way we went from "hello" to sending eachother absolutely WILD smut in less than a day. Ur mind, it is good soup 🤌 (i imagine it's like some kind of wonton so good it would kill me instantly if i took a sip but it'd be worth it.)

And literally all my mutuals! It's been a really lonely year and y'all have been such a comfort to me.

[lis-likes-fics]

Perfection

Pairings: Spencer Reid x bau!adhd!Reader Word Count: 2.6k words Warnings: Mentions of rape, mentions of murder, dead body, crime scene, descriptions of gore, typical Criminals Minds stuff, character with ADHD, mentions of medication... A/N: This is a little more self-indulgent than I meant for it to be, but I do want to point out that this is some of my experience with ADHD, so I'm not just writing random stuff. It is slightly exaggerated, but I also say that about everything I do and it is pointed out that this is based off an off day.

The long alleyway makes for a nice crime scene, specifically because, despite the busy streets of this city, it's secluded and easy to overlook. It's not too small that the police team cannot fit, but it's small enough that you couldn't cram a really small building into the space. You don’t know how that’s relevant, but somehow it is.

The scene is relatively fresh, the latest of three that brought the BAU to the case. The police handling the scene had it cleared off for you, Spencer, and Derek to examine, via Hotch’s orders.

Spencer's watching you because he loves watching you, and because you're a little off today. There's something about the way you shuffle on your feet or the way you chew on the dead skin of your lip that he finds peculiar. To be fair, you're like this a lot, but today your symptoms are more obvious than usual.

Your eyes scan over the scene with a million different thoughts rushing through your head, less than fifty percent of them actually coherent and fit for conversation.

The three of you spitball ideas back and forth as you look at the man laying cold on the concrete. He's white, lean with light hair and a relatively thin frame. He's nothing like the other two victims, who's physical profiles were all over the place. The only thing they have in common with one another is a single occupation—male prostitution. While this and the first worked on the streets, the second’s job actually took place within a gay strip club a few blocks away from here.

He's got a starting blow to the back of the head, like the other two, and a number of bad bruising and heavy brutality to the rest with overkill to the chest, hands, and genitals. The message feels clear, but there's something a little off.

“Judging by the position of the body,” you speak, your hands restless, “and the way the weapon is discarded, I think our unsub snuck up on our victim in a blitz attack, hit him with the lead pipe, and ran that way.”

You don't point in any particular direction. Spencer glances up from his spot crouched next to the body. Your eyes are stuck on the bloody pipe several feet away from the body toward the secluded area around the back of the building that leads to more secluded walkways through more alleyways.

There is a long pause where they wait for you to explain, but you never do. Spencer thinks you look far off as he examines your face. Derek looks at you, his brow furrowed as he glances around. “Which way?”

“What?” you hum, looking up at him.

Derek elaborates, “Which way did the unsub go?”

It’s your turn to furrow your brow, turning the thin ring on your middle finger. “Did I say something about the unsub?”

Spencer stands, moving over to your side without spending too much time looking at your face. He doesn't want you to feel dumb or awkward, because he loves you and you're just a little forgetful sometimes.

“Yes,” he says in no particular way. “You said the unsub blitzed the victim and ran. Which way did he run?”

He achieves his goal, because you seem to make an “Oh, duh!” face before pointing in the direction of the street. “That way.”

He follows your finger, his brows knitting together. “That way toward the street?” He looks at the pipe, sitting in the exact opposite direction, like they ran and dropped it. “The pipe looks like he'd run the other way to avoid the street. Why do you think he ran toward?” It's a genuine question.

“To throw us off,” you shrug. “It's riskier to go toward the street, but it's also less suspicious than walking alone in the opposite direction where someone could see you and the victim and assume fault.”

He hums. You add on, speaking as quickly as Spencer usually does, “It also means he looks normal enough that he blends in with the crowd. Someone would see a strange figure coming out of a dark alley, no one would really notice a passerby turning a corner. And if this is a popular spot, it's too loud to hear anything going on all the way back here anyway, or no one thinks much of grunting noises when they do hear it.”

You trail off at the end, tight brows staring at the corpse. Derek shrugs, “But what was our victim doing all the way over here in the first pla–”

“There's something in his mouth,” you interrupt accidentally.

“What?”

You kneel down, taking the offered gloves from Spencer and putting them on. You open his mouth just a slight, spotting the white sticking out from under his tongue. Upon seeing it, both of the boys furrow their brows and tilt their heads. Spencer hands you some tweezers he'd borrowed from forensics for this reason.

Carefully, without disturbing the body as much as possible, you remove the strange object from under the tongue. It's a tiny slip of paper, folded up very small and still a little damp from saliva and any other bodily fluids it may have come in contact with. You unfold it.

“‘Unclean’,” Spencer reads from over your shoulder.

“That makes sense for the victimology mixed with the profile. He's a male prostitute,” Derek points out.

“Which explains the locale,” you say, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“What?”

“The locale,” you look up. “You asked why he was here. He must have been working, lured down here by the unsub, who waited for him to turn his back before he struck.”

Spencer agrees, taking a picture of the slip to send to Hotch. “He was killed at night. The streets are crowded, easy to slip into and not be seen. It's more risky to stray by yourself. What you said makes sense.”

You look up at him, standing to your full height again. “What did I say?” There you go again.

Morgan speaks up, “What you said about him runnin’ toward the street.”

Confusion passes your mind momentarily. “He ran toward the street.” You don't say it like a question, you say it like you're trying to back yourself up on it.

“That's what you said,” he insists.

You remember thinking that, but you don't remember saying that out loud.

Spencer swoops in like your hero, brushing his knuckles against the side of your arm. “Remember? You said,” he licks his lips, “ ‘it's riskier to go toward the street, but it's also less suspicious than walking alone in the opposite direction where someone could see you and the victim and assume fault.’ ”

You nod, remembering his word-by-word recitation as you watch him. “Yeah. I did say that.” You flag down one of the forensics workers to bag the evidence. She does so, taking your contaminated gloves with her as she leaves. You squirt a hefty amount of hand sanitizer on your hands from its place on your belt loop. “This is the first victim who's been left behind with a note, right?”

“Yes, autopsy results found nothing like this on the other victims.”

“If the victim was working when he was attacked, it’s possible that, paired with the brutality of the assault and the note left behind, our unsub may be experiencing some kind of internalized homophobia.” You trail off at the end.

Derek shrugs, looking down at the body. “There’s no evidence of sexual assault. Not on the other victims, at least.”

“How old do you think this building is?”

Spencer looks at you, your eyes scanning the wall of one of the buildings you’re between. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth, picking at the dead skin again. He thinks you’re cute.

“Focus, honeybun,” Derek reminds you, pulling your attention again.

“Sorry.”

“Judging by the faded color and uneven edges of the brick, and the decay in the mortar,” Spencer says, “I’d say this building is at least 50 years old. Well kept at one point and then let go not long after its production.”

You nod along slowly, taking in the information with a hum. “That’s cool…” Now that that’s out of your mind, you think for a moment. What were you saying again? Spencer watches your eyes light up. “Oh!” You turn to Derek. “He’s obviously confrontational, but he may still be very insecure in his ability and, thus, have to make up for his pent up energy with an excess of violence. Homophobia would explain the obliteration of the chest, hands, and especially the genitalia.”

Derek raises a brow. “What?”

“You asked about sexual assault,” you shrug. “If he continues to escalate above the note, we may see these words carved into the skin as a substitute for sexual violence, or even just blatant rape activity.”

Derek thinks about that, considering your analysis with a nodding head. He sighs and hums, “Alright, I’ll talk to Hotch.” He begins to turn away, grabbing his phone.

Spencer thinks you may have gotten distracted again because you ask, “Did I do something wrong?”

Derek looks back at you, shaking his head and flashing you one of his charming smiles. “No, honeybun, you’re perfect.”

“Oh.”

He leaves to take that call. You start to walk after him and Spencer gently takes your hand. You turn to face him, confused at first but giving him a sweet smile only a second later. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his voice soft.

You tilt your head, “What do you mean?”

Spencer shrugs, taking your other hand just to rub his thumbs over your knuckles. “You’re hyper today, a little more distracted.”

As if proving his point, you begin shifting back and forth on your feet, shrugging and then shaking your head at the same time. “I’m okay,” you assure him, squeezing his hands gently. “I haven’t taken my medication in a couple days.”

He furrows his brow, suddenly a little worried. “Why not?”

“Didn’t feel like it. Also, I forgot it.” That makes sense. Spencer makes a mental note to remind you to take them as soon as you get back home. “But I’m okay, prommy.”

He smiles. “Prommy?”

“Promise,” you clarify, letting both your hands down so you can swing his from side to side. He lets you.

“I know what you mean,” he says. Though he knows he should probably be more professional because you’re both in public and leaving a crime scene (and Hotch might reprimand the both of you for it if he saw) he raises a hand to cradle your cheek because he doesn’t care. He just wants you to feel safe and loved. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod definitely. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” The way he says it is soft, as soft as a kiss to your forehead or a brush of his knuckles on your skin. “You know, I love you, right?”

You nod, smiling at him like he’s the world—because he is. “Yeah. I love you, too, honey.” You kiss his cheek quickly and pat it. You probably shouldn’t have done it right then, but you did, and you don’t regret it for even a moment.

Spencer’s just happy you know he loves you. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go before Morgan leaves us.” He takes your hand as you both begin walking. He swings your joined hands, just as he knows you like it.

“He wouldn’t leave me,” you shake your head. “He likes me too much.”

Spencer chuckles. “Everyone likes you.”

“Not everyone.”

He looks at you, furrowing his brow. “Who doesn’t like you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. And then immediately after, “Why does the sun look yellow? Isn’t it supposed to be white or something? I heard that somewhere.”

Spencer is happy to answer your questions as he opens the car door for you. Derek is already sitting in the front, his hands on the wheel. The passenger’s seat is empty, but Spencer sits in the back with you. You both speak gently so you’re not disturbing Derek. “The Earth’s atmosphere scatters blue light more efficiently than red light, so the slight deficit in blue light means the eye perceives the color of the sun as yellow. But, yes, the sun is actually white.”

“That’s cool,” you mumble. “I think sharks would look cool as hell with piercings. Do you?”

“I do,” Spencer chuckles. In the front seat, Derek shakes his head and smiles to himself, amused by your conversation.

“Did you know that sharks don’t have bones, so when they die, the saltwater dissolves their bodies so the only thing that’s left is their teeth?” You begin ranting, absent-mindedly picking at dirty under your nails. “And also, their bodies are primarily made of cartilage and connective tissue. It’s lighter than bone and keeps them flamboyant. Also, their skin has a similar feel to sandpaper.”

When you ramble, you sound like Spencer. You spend so much time with him and endorse his info dumps so much that you take on his speech style when you go on info dumps of your own. Spencer loves this because he knows that people tend to mimic the people they love as a sign of affection, and you mimic him a lot more than you think.

He also knew about all your shark facts, but he’s happy to listen. He smiles, “Is that what you were doing up late last night?”

You smile a little, turning away from him. “I got distracted.”

“What’s your thought process behind getting from the sun to sharks?” he wonders. “I’m curious.”

You shrug. “Well, you said your thing and I said it was cool. And then I remembered a post I saw that sharks would be cool with piercings. Then I remembered my shark things.” You glance down at your fingers, bringing them to your lips as you notice a tiny part at the very edge of the nail where it would probably tear off. “I just think sharks are cool,” you mumble around your finger.

“They are cool,” he says. He doesn’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself so he adds on, “Will you hold my hand? It’s a little cold.”

You look down at them, “Yeah.” With a nod, you take his hand between both of yours and let them warm his back up. They’re a bit chilly but they don’t feel that cold to you. You hold them anyway, because you love holding his hand. You intertwine your fingers with his and then cover what’s left.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says. He thinks for a moment. “Did you eat today?”

You nod, still watching his hand as you turn it to look at his palm. You gently trace the lines of it, forgetting for the moment that he’d wanted you to warm his hand up for him. But, as usual, he doesn’t mind. “I had a cereal bar this morning. One of those Coco Puff ones. They’re like Rice Krispy Treats.” He doesn’t think that’s sustainable. “And, before you ask, I did have water.”

He smiles. “I know. I told you to drink some before we left. You hungry?”

You shake your head, “Not really.”

“You want a snack?” he compromises, hoping—and knowing—you’ll say yes.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” he hums. “We’ll grab one on the way back.” Derek nods gently, remembering to do just that. It will only take a moment.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Spencer says, his voice lowering to a whisper. He knows Derek can still hear him, but he always just wants to whisper to you.

You look up at him, “For what?”

“Being so perfect.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes but ultimately smiling at the warmth in your chest. “You’re so cheesy, Spencer Reid.”

He’ll gladly be cheesy for you.

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 Tag yourself here...

[shyamanuensis]

MC's heart is broken - HL headcanon

You break up with your boyfriend --- here's one interpretation of how the boys would handle it/you:

Garreth

🟊 blink and you'd have missed how fast garreth was to find you once the rumours of your breakup had begun to swell throughout the gryffindoor common room. knowing full well you're not particularly an open person when it comes to your private affairs; he's quick to whisk you away to a quiet corner of the castle where the two of you can just talk - or scream if you need to.

🟊 every attempt he tries at making you laugh to forget about whats going on only causes more tears to flow at this point but you can't tell the difference between tears of sadness and tears of laughter as your lips curl into a tiny smirk at his antics.

🟊"i could poison him?" "garreth no - just… no."

🟊 he'd spend the rest of the week plotting out his own revenge on your ex with elaborate ideas he's aware you'd never actually approve of him doing, but the way it plays out in his mind is good enough for him. eventually, he comes up with some petty and lame excuse and reports it to his aunt which has your ex suddenly in a cauldron load of trouble and while you're suspicious; garreth denies being involved in anything.

🟊 follows you around like a gold retreiver guard dog until he's certain you've recovered - this could be days, weeks or months; and every time your ex just happens to walk by, he's nothing but quick to remind you that you can most defintely do better and that ex's are ex's for a reason.

Ominis

🟊your demeanour had changed and Ominis felt it smack into him like a brick wall. your usual bubbly self had turned cold and distant and any time he tried to bring up the subject, no matter how delicate he was - you shot him down time after time. this didn't put him off though. as your best friend he knew you'd eventually cave in and talk to him.

🟊"but what does she have that i don't? what does he see in her?" he knew better than to answer these questions because it in the past, they only quickly had him dig his own grave. instead he'd learnt to stay silent and just let you vent. or cast confringo on sebastian as he entered the undercroft - whatever makes you feel better.

🟊 not one for physical affection or touch, ominis will willingly let you hug him because you just 'need one' and softly pat your back near robotically as he isn't sure what else to do until you tell him that he doesn't need to do anything and just allow himself to be squeezed a little tighter as you cry into his chest. the dampness of his shirt bothers him, but he'll allow it - just this once.

🟊 those pretty flowers which get delivered to your dorm? yeah you're fully aware your ex isn't capable of such a thing, even when the two of you were dating but ominis insists he'd never in a million years buy flowers for a girl - let alone you. the fact they've come with his favourite chocolates though; the ones with the peppermint centres which you keep stealing from his pockets when you think he isn't looking is a dead give away he's trying to cheer you up.

🟊 will walk into your ex causing them to trip/fall/drop what they're carrying and use the 'sorry - can't see' excuse. that potion they've been working on; destroyed. that new girl they've been talking to - put off by the fact they're so clumsy. that staircase they're near… you get the point.

Sebastian

🟊 he sees those tears in your eyes and immediately knows what's happened - "he's dead!"

🟊 it seems sebastian is the one who needs calming down and not you although you're the one actually dealing with the broken heart. the way he paces around your dorm room just spitballing the revenge he's going to unleash with tight fists at his side while you're sitting on your bed wondering why the hell you even told him knowing he'd over react.

🟊 eventually he comes around - or so it seems - and just lets you rest your head on his shoulder in peace, happy to sit in silence and just appreciate you have a friend around for company. psyche - no his mind is silently plotting revenge, he's just fooling you into thinking he's completely calm by the way he rubs your arm and brushes his thumb across your knuckles sweetly.

🟊 somehow he turns into the most perfect psuedo boyfriend and fills in the gap between best friend and more. doors held open, hair tucked behind your ear with a compliment, careless whispers of nothing hot against your skin all infront of your ex. sebastian's of course trying to rile him up and get a reaction. that's how he ended up with a black eye one night after astronomy but refuses to tell you the truth and the whole story.

🟊"you can do so much better than that twat…" it's a quiet reminder - when you're both alone in the library which he doesn't think you'll pick up on because of how hard you're studying. your eyes have barely left the parchment your quill has been scratching it and his eyes haven't left you. maybe someday you'll find out how he feels, but until then; sebastian's just happy to protect you from the evil ex's you seem to keep spawning.

[marlynnofmany]

Secondhand Solutions

Mur gave me a smug look, curling and uncurling one tentacle like a yo-yo. “Told you it was a waste of credits,” he said.

I sighed. “If those human ships were here, it wouldn’t be. This stuff is prime Earth nostalgia.” The small pile of items on the hoversled had seemed so full of promise when I’d bought it at our last stop: cat posters, harmonicas, and a dozen packs of googly eyes.

“Pity we’re far from Earth,” Mur said.

“Yeah,” I agreed, eyeing the locals of this alien marketplace. Lots of scales and exoskeletons. Not many hands that would appreciate the softness of a cat’s fur, and very few mouthparts that would be able to do much with a harmonica. The merchant I’d gotten the stuff from had been a Heatseeker all too happy to unload her stock of cut-rate human nonsense. These folks would likely have similar opinions. I said, “At least it doesn’t expire.”

Mur straightened the individually-boxed harmonicas. “And it shouldn’t take up too much space in your quarters until we meet up with more humans eventually. The captain won’t want to hang around here waiting for them to show up.”

“True,” I admitted. It was gossip from our last stop that had told me they’d be here now. I should have known better than to trust it.

“Well, back to the ship,” Mur announced. “Maybe you can cheer yourself up by decorating your quarters with eyeballs.”

I had to smile at that. “Maybe.” He was already walking back to where we’d parked, on the far side of an over-cultivated garden area. I towed the hoversled after him.

Then I caught sight of some locals who’d run afoul of multiple birdlike beasties, and an idea started to form.

The locals, a half-dozen Heatseekers whose scales ranged from red to pale yellow, were trying to eat a nice lunch at the dining section of the garden. The squawking bird-things, which were half-lizardy with speckled brown feathers and wide beaks, had apparently claimed the bushes for their own. They were contesting this claim by spitting at the Heatseekers every time their backs were turned. These looked like pretty gross spitballs, impressive for birds.

It occurred to me that I’d seen those feathery characters all over the place here. A look behind confirmed it; they lurked in nearly every tree I could see. And judging by the way the locals were abandoning this picnic table, they were a known hazard.

They still only spat at fleeing enemies, hiding or freezing in place when pinned by eye contact.

And that was my idea. “Hey Mur,” I said. “I’ll bet you one shanty sung on a table that I can sell some of these googly eyes right now.”

He stopped and looked around, full of skepticism. “To who?”

“Do you take the bet?”

“Ah, sure. There’s no way anyone here is interested.”

“You say that now,” I said, grabbing a pack and waving down one of the hurrying locals. “But you don’t know how we deal with tigers and magpies.”

“With what?”

I didn’t answer, busy as I was explaining to the local that the false eyes were adhesive, and would give the impression of eye contact from both directions. They were just as interested as I’d thought they’d be.

After a demonstration, during which I strolled through the picnic area and didn’t get a single spitball on me, the birds were unsettled and the locals were more than happy to buy everything I had.

This was a new colony town, you see, and no one had come up with a good solution for the annoying fauna that came with the territory. But these folks were prepared to make everyone’s day.

They certainly made mine. That was five times as much as I’d paid for the stuff in the first place. And they didn’t even want the posters and harmonicas.

I waved goodbye, but they weren’t paying attention, so I turned my grin on Mur instead. He had draped a tentacle around his pointy squid head in exasperation.

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bet,” he declared. “But I was so sure it was pointless.”

“And I am sure that whichever song you choose to regale us with at dinnertime will be delightful,” I said, tugging the hovercart around the bushes. The birds watched me carefully, noting the eyes still stuck to my hair, and leaving us both alone. “If it’s a song I know, maybe I can play a backup melody with a harmonica.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[steviewashere]

To Be So Mundane

Rating: General CW: Brief mention of Covid-19 (as this is set in 2021) Tags: Post-Canon, Post Vecna, Future Fic, Set in 2021, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Older Steddie, Domestic Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Teacher Steve Harrington, The Intimacy in a Bowl of Soup, Emotional Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Soft Eddie Munson, Soft Steve Harrington

Thought about finishing up the fourth chapter of my merman Steve fic. And then I got sidetracked, so here's this. Also, I don't know where they live or what Eddie does for work (maybe mechanic, if you feel so inclined to imagine him that way). Pick your flavor <3

🥣—————🥣 At the end of the day, Steve realizes it’s not the horror he’s experienced that will linger. Sure, they persist and he is frightened and he shakes sweating from it all. But when he comes home, exhausted to his core and sluggish to the soles of his feet, it’ll never be the agony he finds in his kitchen. It’s the warmth.

The sweet musk of vanilla bourbon candles bought from the home aisle of the neighborhood Walmart. A singular orange bulb in a second-hand floor lamp, tucked cozy by the couch, in the corner between the back door and the right armrest. Bookshelves of knick knacks and framed photos from 2003—when he finally tried the college route and graduated. The sprawl of mini-figure painting equipment on the coffee table: half-open paint jars that he closes up tight, still drying clean paint brushes, paper towels and yellowed newspaper, and magnifying goggles.

It’s to music. Soft crooning through the—now considered ancient—record player from 1988. Sometimes Jim Croce. Sometimes John Prine. Sometimes the goddess, Dolly Parton. Something familiar and nearly worn out from playing the records over and over and over. Tonight, it’s Jim. It’s coming back to the floating husking rasp of Eddie Munson’s fifty-five year old voice, not all that great but always sweet from by the stovetop.

To where Steve migrates, shoeless and briefcase free and his teacher’s badge hung up. Where soup simmers on the low heat—smelling of paprika and roasted carrots and chicken bouillon. The oven heating up a loaf of French bread, basted in garlic butter, sprinkled with shredded mozzarella cheese. Where Eddie stands, stirring and singing—his now silver hair pulled up into a bun, dressed down in a plain white t-shirt and black sweatpants, and his scruff not shaved—he must’ve had a lazy day. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist, his body warm and his tummy a little pudgier. Eddie hums, reaching down with a free hand to cover the back of Steve’s, squeezing. And Steve’ll never be used to their wedding rings clinking together.

“Long day?” Eddie murmurs low.

Steve grunts. Digs his chin into Eddie’s left shoulder. His glasses going crooked from the angle. Peers down at the bubbling pot of dinner. “Kids kept threatening to take their masks off. Nearly started a coughing fight,” he answers at the same volume. He sighs, long and genuine. “They’ve officially turned Covid-19 into classroom warfare. Whatever happened to spitballs and globs of food?”

Eddie chuckles deep in his chest. “Don’t give ‘em ideas, Stevie.” He smiles softly down at his cooking, dimples deep and smile lines deeper. Steve kisses under his left ear just because. Because he can. Because this is what the world is when it doesn’t end, thank god. The soup is stirred slowly for a few more beats. He scoops up a spoonful in their beat up ladle. It’s got a few char scars from when they first learned to cook meals for one another—Steve believes it’s from the time he forgot to turn off the stovetop when making macaroni and cheese. Lesson learned.

“Here, taste this for me, baby?” Eddie gently requests, holding the ladle to Steve’s face over his shoulder. Hand cupping the underside. Face turned slightly to try and make eye contact, he’ll give himself a knot if he does it too long. Steve knows, having given many massages over the last decade.

He leans forward slightly, accepting the soup as Eddie tilts the ladle. Makes an obnoxious slurp that Eddie snorts at. Smacks his lips and hums. “Ooo, that’s good,” Steve mutters close to Eddie’s ear. “Got a little kick to it. You put a little bit of that new chili oil?”

“Mm and chili flakes,” Eddie hums. “Thought it would pair nicely. Remember that chicken I began marinating last night?”

“The chicken you told me I couldn’t make for my lunch today?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, turning back to the soup pot, shutting the burner off. “I told you not to take it all,” he points out with pleasant tease. “Because you’ll do that if I don’t stop you. And then you come home and complain that your stomach hurts because you ate too much. And then I have to put you on bed rest for the night.”

“I’m not that bad—“

“Anyway,” Eddie cuts in. “I marinated it in this ginger, coconut sauce that I saw a few nights ago on uh…What’s that app that Robin’s always sending videos from?”

“The…The TickTick app?” Steve guesses.

Eddie snaps his fingers together. “Yeah! That app!” He exclaims softly. (They’ll learn later it’s definitely not that, but it doesn’t matter.) He shrugs Steve off to grab the bread from the oven. Steve just moves around to their bar countertop, not a complaint on his tongue. Eddie continues, “I also added a little bit of coconut milk to the base broth. So, hopefully, this’ll be good. With the leftovers, I was thinking you could make your cauliflower rice for lunch and put the soup on top? Only if it’s good, though. If this sucks, I’ll pay for pizza tonight.”

Steve laughs from his belly. “If you do, make sure to get the gluten free crust. Stupid stomach has been acting up again,” he says softly.

Standing up, Eddie hisses. “You’re lucky that the bakery section at the grocery store only had gluten free baguettes then,” he teases gently once more. He sets the finished bread on the countertop, grabs the bottle of chili oil from by the pot of soup, and drizzles it lightly overtop the cheesy, garlic goodness. When he finally dishes up their dinner, he settles next to Steve at the counter. Bowls and small plates of bread in front of them. Glasses of crappy Barefoot red wine, because this is what they can afford—and it doesn't really suck, not when it's served thoughtfully like it is tonight.

“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmurs. He leans in close to Eddie’s side, presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, and then promptly digs in.

And it’s good. Everything’s so good. Jim Croce is singing about time in a bottle. The soup is warm and fresh and homemade. Every light is a careful amber. He’s tired and happy and…complete.

Eddie’s got soup in the scruff under his lip. But Steve doesn’t say anything. Just admires the fine wrinkles and lines to his face, where they’ve begun to really deepen. Admires how his eyes are just as big and soft and expressive as they were thirty-five years ago after Vecna. Where his body is soft. His endearingly white hair.

How he’s alive.

“Hey, Eds?”

Immediately, Eddie looks onto him. Eyes wide with trepidation. The corners of his mouth pinched downward. “Is it not good? I can go get my wallet if it’s—“

Steve lays his hand on the back of Eddie’s forearm. The right one, closest to him, where scars swamp the bats. And that says something, too, he’s sure. About how Eddie fought the bats and came out victorious anyway. His thumb runs soothingly over Eddie’s malleable, aged, warm skin. And his eyes prickle with tears—it would’ve been embarrassing if he were nineteen still, but what a wonderful thing to be alive and cry at all.

“I’m so fucking happy you’re here with me,” Steve breathes out all at once. He sighs through his mouth, a gentle sob escaping.

Eddie drops his spoon into his bowl of slowly cooling soup. And he reaches up, dislodging Steve’s hand on his arm completely, cupping his face between his hands instead. “Oh, baby,” he coos. “Baby, are you alright? Where’s this coming from?”

Steve shrugs because he doesn’t know. Not really. But it’s here. And he’s got a therapist in the aftermath of everything, and feelings deserved to be felt—so they’ve said. “I just—“ He wetly exhales, leaning into Eddie’s soft hands. “—I don’t know. It’s so fucking…I’m so happy to just be boring. To do the same mundane things every single day. To just come home.”

“Oh,” Eddie coos again. He tugs Steve closer, burying his face into his shoulder. Pets a hand through Steve’s own white hair. A hand between his shoulders. Letting him dissolve safely. “I am, too, Steve,” he states like a promise. “You have no idea how my heart just soars in the morning when I look over and you’re…God, you’re drooling all over your own forearm and snuffling deep into the pillow and your hair is all spiky and you’ve got creases all over your face from going to war with the top sheet.” Steve chuckles just as Eddie pulls him back. Hands back on his cheeks, thumbs soothing tear tracks. “You have no idea how relieved I am to look over and see you at peace, sweetheart. Every day—I don’t know how you do it—but every day you let me discover a new part of you to love.”

They smile at one another, softly, eyes shiny with tears. Their soup is going cold, but it doesn’t matter. They’ve got all the time in the world to reheat it.

“I love you,” Steve breathes, states. Just because he can.

“I love you, too,” Eddie says immediately. Because it’s that easy.

It’s easy when life is nothing more than this.

🥣—————🥣

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I think like… proportion wise it’s the same. It looks like it’s down to the lions ‘ankles’ I think it’s more just the bipedal ness that makes it look off? Idk I’m just spitballing.

[Referencing this post!]

adbiabsidpbuadao; Thank you to the anons for trying to ground me while I'm spiraling over here thanks to Kingscholar's stupid tail 💀

It definitely makes more sense if we think about it in terms of proportions! It must be the whole bipedal thing that's throwing me off... Interesting tidbit about the tail helping with balance though, I didn't know that :0

I've studied the human body too, so I'm familiar with the "tail bone" (coccyx) in humans. Maybe that's around where the point of attachment would be for most races with tails...? abkhfbaiyvosa BUT IT STILL BOTHERS ME BECAUSE I'M PARANOID OTL If it's anywhere near the bum (yes, including a little above it)... I don't want it near me... Something about the idea is a little unsettling and I can't really explain why. If it's a fluffy tail like Jack's or Fellow's, I'm willing to be a little more lenient. But I think it's like... how fleshy (?) and thin Leona's tail looks???? I'm aware he has fur, but most of it is so short you don't really get a sense of that texture. I just picture like. A flesh strip brushing past my leg and shiver at the imagery OTL IT'S LIKE THE POKEMON SYLVEON... THOSE AREN'T FABRIC RIBBONS, IT'S FLESH. LIKE IS THAT NOT DISTURBING??????? HELLO????????

[yallmakemyassitch]

Scratch Task

Summary: Tabi had gotten sick of Agoti slick and slimy ways of sneakily tickling him, so it was about time he retained some comeuppance and taught the poor boy a lesson~! ^⁠_⁠^

Word count: 5133

Character count: 29277

Tobi talks: Well hello again to all you lovely fellas, I'm here with something special for you lot! As you know, I'm on hiatus due to school and personal life stuff and that won't change for the foreseeable future. I had this cute idea to redraw one of Sensey's art pieces as I think the position they're in and how Tabi is pinning Agoti is downright hilarious and downright devious! But I wouldn't be doing it any justice without writing something about it, after all, you just gotta appreciate her creativity (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55564837

Enjoy the story, gooday you lovely people and have a great day y’all! 🩷(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

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“T-Tabi! C-c’mon man, I’m serious!” Agoti shrieked, his feet propelling him as fast as they could away from his pursuing friend, who was quickly gaining on him. Tabi lunged at him again, but the digidevil managed to dodge just in the nick of time. He stumbled and fell hard onto the ground, giving his friend an extra jumpstart in the chase.

“Agoti! Get back here!” The goat-man yelled after him, quickly getting up and running after him, a fresh dose of adrenaline pumping in his veins. The digidevil’s heart raced and his thundering footsteps quickened.

Fear was an understatement to what he was feeling, with his teeth gritted and eyebrows knitted into a panicked visage, one would think he had encountered death himself.

He might as well have anyway. Agoti had pushed Tabi too far and as a consequence, turned the Russian man into an unstoppable force of nature. No matter how much or how far he ran, Tabi was always right around the corner.

In this moment of reflection, the digidevil realized he couldn’t hear Tabi’s footsteps anymore and slowed down before eventually stopping. His labored lungs were on fire and burned with every breath he tried to reclaim.

Agoti grasped his knees and hunched over, feeling his forehead drip with sweat onto the pavement. Agoti swallowed a spitball. “Oh god…” He gasped. How long had he been running? 10, maybe 15 minutes of just sprinting? He signed and stood up straight, stretching his back and his arms.

He didn’t feel safe in the area they were in, Tabi was known to be an excellent ambusher, so it would be best if he moved somewhere he couldn’t find him.

Just as he was going to head off, he heard a strange sound. The digidevil turned back around, now even more nervous, and just as he was about to whip around to run away, he heard Tabi’s dreaded voice coming from right behind him.

“Found you,” Tabi whispered in his ear.

Then his world flipped upside down, feeling a swift and strong force sweep his ankles from underneath him. Agoti couldn’t even comprehend what had happened until he landed hard on his chest. Panic soon set in when he felt someone heavy sit on his back and grab his wrist.

“Tabi! Please no!” The demon shrieked with terror, realizing the extent of his situation. “Too late for excuses, Agoti.” The Russian man hummed calmly above him.

Agoti was fast and agile, but Tabi was stronger and heavier than him, so pinning the digidevil was an easy feat. Tabi twisted his dominant arm behind his back and pinned it on the center of his back with the firm grip of his hand and pushed all his weight into the grip.

As expected, Agoti began to thrash and squirm, attempting to forcefully dismount the man off his back. A horrifying revelation came when he realized Tabi was sitting rather close to his rear, which made the prospect of slithering his tail out to defend himself impossible.

The Russian man watched as the digidevil fruitlessly kicked his legs and waved around his other arm, hell, his kicks would land on his back sometimes, but Tabi was stocky enough to handle it.

The digidevil tuckered out, realizing that his method of escape wasn’t working, and relaxed his muscles.

“Are you done?” The invisible man asked with an arch of his eyebrow.

“Y-yeah…” Agoti grumbled begrudgingly.

“Good, now then…” Tabi, with his free hand, pinched his friend’s right side. “Let's talk.”

The demon flinched and quietly squeaked. Oh god. Oh god no.

Tabi couldn’t see his face at his angle but could tell the digidevil was very nervous. He couldn’t help but grin and chuckle to himself. “Oh Agoti, Agoti…” He shook his head.

Agoti tensed when he felt his bony finger slowly trace up and down his side. “I have to ask you something,” Tabi exclaimed, his voice now much more casual and amused than before.

“Y-yeah?” God damn, he almost giggled a bit.

Tabi leaned over to where his bony snout would be right next to his ear. “Are you ticklish?” This time, his tone was dripping with mischief. His index finger began to quickly wiggle into his side, traveling up and down the sensitive area.

Tabi watched Agoti’s reaction carefully, his lower jaw appearing to complete his already menacing expression.

“N-noho…” Agoti hissed through clenched teeth, contradicted by a wild, silly smile beginning to spread across his lips.

The Russian huffed. “Well that’s good, otherwise what I’m about to do would really suck.”

“Huh- wait, ta-TAHahaHAhABI!” Agoti squealed. He resumed his squirming, his side’s nerves stimulated and sending all kinds of ticklish shocks up his torso. The hand that was previously tweaking his side was energetically digging into the tender flesh.

“Hmph. Liar.” Tabi quietly huffed, beginning to knead into the flesh with his fingertips, causing Agoti to attempt to twist his free arm around to grab his wrist, but the awkward angle he was pinned at made it difficult.

Tabi easily brushed him off and continued with the torture. “PLEHEHEASE, I- I caHAHAN’T!”

“Oh, yes you can. We haven’t even made it to your worst spot yet.” The entire sentence he just uttered not only sent chills down his spine but he managed to switch his tone from casual and dismissive to downright despicable.

The digidevil screamed when he felt Tabi’s hand begin to jump around his torso. The goat-man knew the digidevil was ticklish as hell, so putting him in stitches wasn’t difficult. Agoti thrashed from left to right, feeling his hand grab his hip, digging his four fingers into the front while the thumb made devious circles in the back, leaving him cackling like a madman.

This only increased when the Russian’s fingers burrowed into the sweet spot between his side and tummy, which got a hearty wheeze out of Agoti.

“Heh.” He heard Tabi chuckle, his golden eyes sparkling with amusement. He quickly crawled up his side and drilled his bony fingers into the very crevice of his underarm.

“N-NOHO!” Agoti cried, his arm shooting down to cover the sensitive spot. He foolishly trapped his hand but was glad to feel the hand leave once Tabi realized tickling wasn’t possible with his arm that tight against his side.

“Hm. Suit yourself then, I’ll just have to go to the other one.” Tabi exclaimed, oddly calm.

Tabi then began to pull up Agoti’s pinned arm, keeping it in its bent position, but steadily exposing his other armpit. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Agoti yelled, nervous giggles tumbling out of him at record speed. He resisted, pulling down as much he could as a counter to Tabi’s tugging.

He just grinned and in one swift motion, pulled the arm at the desired 45-degree angle. Agoti’s stomach dropped, seems the Russian man was holding out on the poor boy. Man, he really had to hit the weights after this.

The digidevil’s train of thought was interrupted when a single finger began to circle slowly around his pit. Agoti hid his face in the floor again, there was a large, stupid grin on his face that he couldn’t bear to expose to the rest of the world.

“Tickle, tickle, Agoti…” Tabi’s voice cooed lowly above him, making sure to purr out each syllable in the most taunting tone he could muster. This wasn’t difficult, his Russian accent left a lot of room for letters to roll off his tongue with delicious deviousness.

He still couldn’t see his face but could see Agoti was red, the blush even managing to spill onto the side of his head.

“N-noHohoHo Tahahabi, that’s sohOho meheheAn…” The demon whined, his tendrils curling with embarassment.

“Oh trust me, I can get a lot meaner~” The invisible man laughed. Then the tracing began to ascend, keeping its gentle touch until his fingers were dancing along his bicep. Agoti groaned, giggles flowing freely out of him, he knew what Tabi was getting at.

“This familiar, Agoti?” Tabi asked with an amused snort, digging into his bicep with fervor. The demon squealed, and now his giggles were much louder, mixed in with hiccups and snorts, he sounded ridiculous. The sensation was annoying, a touch he couldn’t get away from, and Tabi made sure he felt the same pain Agoti put him through.

That being instead of his underarms, the rapper had trapped his friend underneath him and tormented his knees until he screamed uncle. Tabi looked back on it with a grimace, but with the same man at his mercy, he felt a sense of relief taking out his pent-up frustration on the bastard.

“Fuhuhuck, okay! I’m s-SOohoHhorRy!” He cried, his free arm lightly slamming the floor several times. He never knew his arms were so sensitive but he guessed Tabi learned a thing or two before finally initiating his revenge.

“No excuses~” Tabi purred, lightly digging just right above where his armpit would be. Agoti cried out and knocked his forehead on the floor a few times, the sensations were going to make him go mad. “UHuHaAHAHA!” He kept this up for a while, giving his friend much-needed treatment after all the bullshit he put him through.

Well, it reached the finale and it was about time he’d given him what he was anticipating.

“Oh Agoti, I’m going to get your little armpit~” The Russian cooed, his index finger starting to slowly travel down his elbow, then his bicep, and then the little spot that would make his friend sing to the rooftops. Agoti about screamed when he announced himself and began to struggle again. “Tahahahabi seheheriously, I’m sorry! I- AHA!” Agoti whined again, squawking when he felt fingers tweak his neck.

“I don’t believe you.” The Russian man posed his hand into a claw shape right above his right underarm and kept it there. The digidevil was laughing and squirming wildly, the laughter bubbling out of him like a faucet was akin to a hyena. Tabi snorted, as much as a punishment this was, he had to admit, his digidevil friend had a cute laugh.

He snapped himself out of his trance when he realized Agoti had lied still, in wait for his friend to put him in stitches.

And that he did. Tabi touched down and scribbled furiously into the underarm. His reaction was an understatement when described as “explosive”, the man immediately burst out into raucous cackles and squeals that would be the previously mentioned hyena to shame.

Agoti had ticklish armpits, but the spot wasn’t too bad on its own. His friend’s teasing had turned into a giddy ball of nerves, which may or may not have been purposeful. He was losing it, his chest shaking with unrelenting howls of laughter.

“PLEHEHEASE, STOHOHAHAP! MEHEHERCY!” Agoti’s legs were limp on the ground, slightly twitching in contrast to his seizing torso. Tabi made sure to dig deep and as ferociously as possible into the very center, smug as a bug witnessing his friend cry for mercy.

“And why should I? You didn’t give me any mercy when you were tickling me?” His friend couldn’t answer. This continued for a while, sometimes randomly scribbling up his arm to tease the bicep until Tabi heard a wheezy cough come out of Agoti, that’s when he stopped and removed his hand.

Tabi pinned his arm back down to back and it moreover collapsed, as the digidevil was too tired to fight back at this point. Agoti panted, teary-eyed and blushing hard. The invisible man let Agoti rest his throat, after all, the true finale wouldn’t be complete if his victim wasn’t rejuvenated.

“O-oh gahad…” Agoti panted, the ghost of the tickles still lingered on his body. His shoulders rose and fell with each passing second as he gradually regained his breath.

“How was that?” Tabi asked, playfully punching his friend’s shoulder blade.

“Awful,” The rapper said with a roll of his eyes. “Now, can you get off of me? You got your revenge.” Agoti craned his neck to meet Tabi’s gaze but was confused, then horrified to be met with initial nonchalance to the spread of his grin and the speechless shake of his skull.

“Tabi, you’ve got to be shitting me!” Agoti hissed quickly, his tendrils springing into action in a series of coiling and terrified phalanges. “Nope, sorry, Agoti.” Tabi hissed right back, sarcasm oozing from his tone. Agoti was scared but realized something, he had energy! He could finally fight back.

The digidevil swung his other arm around to hopefully grab the man’s wrist and pull it off of him. He rejoiced when he felt the Russian’s grip come loose, which freed his slightly numb, right hand.

Agoi placed both hands on the floor and was going to flip himself over, taking Tabi with him. He gravely miscalculated his move, his repositioned arms exposed his most sensitive spot; his ribcage.

The goat-man acted quickly and with both hands, grabbed the sides of his ribcage and squeezed. Agoti screamed and collapsed, and Tabi took this as an opportunity to put the demon back in position. The demon moaned sadly on the floor he stuffed his face into.

“Sorry but, I’m not done here,” Tabi said, making sure his arm was firmly stuck in place with no place to move. The digidevil didn’t even say anything, seeming to have accepted his fate. That would make the job easier for Tabi, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was done asking questions. The first question was just a coverup for what he was really wondering.

Tabi gently grasped the right side of Agoti’s ribcage, not even grabbing it, just wrapping his hand around the spot, mimicking the curve of his ribs. Since Agoti’s right arm was out of commission, it was the perfect place to begin the real torture.

“This will be my second and final question, so you better listen up!” The Russian declared angrily.

The digidevil said nothing and the man pining him down took it as a sign he was listening.

Tabi sighed deeply. “Agoti, why do you keep tickling me?” All the irritation in his tone vanished, he sounded solemn and quiet. Agoti craned his neck to look at him and their gazes met instantly, as Tabi was already staring deeply into him. His eyebrows were furrowed and his golden eyes were brimming with patience. He wasn’t mad in the slightest.

Agoti’s face fell, now looking quite solemn himself. “Vell?” Tabi said, leaning a bit closer and sounded amused when his accent slipped a bit but still patiently awaiting his response.

His chest fluttered, he knew the answer to his question. Could he tell him? Could he tell Tabi that he thought he wasn’t tickling him out of mischief but because he thought his laughter was not only really cute but handsome? That being this close to him at the moment made his heart beat a mile a minute?

Tickling was his method of ‘flirting’ with Tabi. It was too embarrassing and too early, knowing him, Tabi wasn’t too interested in love after what he’s been through. Agoti could be a selfish asshole at times, but he wanted to savor his feelings when the timing was right. Tabi had taken his heart by storm the moment he had met him and the Russian man was none the wiser.

Oh who was he kidding, Agoti was just too pussy to admit he had fallen for him.

He conjured up the most bullshit answer his panicking mind could formulate. Agoti sighed and began to speak in his ‘sincerest tone’...

“It’s cuz you’re sad all the time.”

“What?” Tabi said quietly.

“Dude you’re seriously a Debbie downer, you’re constantly frowning and my jokes hardly even get to you. I wanna see you have fun, not just mopey and sad.” Agoti mumbled, avoiding the gaze now staring over his head onto him, casting a shadow. Tabi blinked at him and sighed.

“Agoti, Agoti…” Tabi started.

He stiffened when he felt something pinch his ribs. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.” He huffed, half-amused half-dissapointed.

Then the kneading began, Tabi had his hand shaped into a pincer and was thoroughly pinching and kneading in between each rib bone, along with the bone itself, and descended one rib when he figured that one had enough.

Agoti loudly snorted and bit the hell out of his lower lip, scratching at the floor with his sharp claws. He was doing a lot better than he imagined, despite his mind screaming for the sensations to stop.

Tabi realized what he was doing and coughed out a dry laugh, the mischief still left over from earlier allowed him to make such a sound.

Tabi took his hand and kneaded into the entire side of the ribcage instead, making sure his fingertips were vibrating in between the tender gaps of the bones. The Russian could feel the dam collapse immediately as Agoti breathed in…

And nothing came out. He could feel his chest shaking and saw his hand dig and curl deeply into the ground before a loud shriek could be heard. It was louder than what he heard today. Tabi winced, the sound long, shrill, and painful, before quickly descending into a cacophony of hysteria.

The kicking started back up and Agoti was back to his usual ways of thrashing and squirming. His laughter, now much more girlish, almost made Tabi smile a bit, but he kept his lips pursed and serious. “NoHOHOhOHOAHAH- hic NOTHAHOT THAHAT!”

“That’s strike one, Agoti. Do it again or I’ll go to the other side.” Tabi replied calmly, slowing his pace to gentle jabs all over his right side. Agoti was hysterical, twitching and spasming every time Tabi hit a sweet spot, much to his chagrin.

“FUhUhUCK TAHAahABi! Thihihis ihihis sohohoho BAHAHAD!” He squealed at the end when he felt pinching around his upper ribcage, dancing fingertips poking at the sensitive bone.

“I know, that’s why I asked your dad about it,” Tabi replied casually.

Wait what? “H-HuHuhuh?” Agoti giggled profusely before the former musician stopped tormenting his side.

“Yup, I asked your dad if you were ticklish. He spilled, surprisingly.” His face was knitted into a reminiscing expression, which quickly turned into unapologetic mirth as he laughed for a while, seeing from the corner of Agoti’s face that he had turned white before shifting into a deep crimson.

“D-dad told you?!” Agoti asked, exasperated.

“Yep.” Tabi repeated, popping the ‘p’, “I was expecting him to start interrogating me, to be honest, but I guess he likes me now cuz he was pretty upfront with me. A pretty standup guy if I’m being honest.” He shrugged.

.

.

.

“His ribs are his worst spot, especially the ones on the bottom, they get him the worst.” Solazar hummed, readjusting his glasses.

“Ah, I see,” Tabi said, rubbing his bony chin.

“May I ask what for?” The Solarisapien questioned, eyes gentle but burning with skepticism. An improvement from his initial scowling and shooting glares when he first met the young man.

His shoulders shook as he laughed. “Nothing important, Mr. Solazar,”

Solazar could tell he had no nefarious intentions based on his eyes, which brightened with unmistakable playfulness and mischief. He could tell where this was going, he saw that gaze all too often in his boys in their youth.

“Oh alright,” The former warrior sighed, straightening his back.

.

.

.

The digidevil was mortified beyond belief, his father sold him out?! Agoti had no time to react when he felt his pincers move again to latch onto his bony figure and wiggle in every groove possible, but Tabi made sure to avoid the bottom ones, to save the best for last, of course.

“N-nonono- T-TAHAHBI! AHaaAH NOhaHAHAHA!” He resumed his previous moments, this time, much more flustered at the bombshell that just dropped on him and squirmier than before. Even Tabi was a little disheveled at how much he was squirming.

Surely, it couldn’t feel that bad? Then he thought of that one time Agoti blasted his neck with raspberries and mentally kicked himself.

“Now then, let’s try that again. I’ll know when you’re lying, so don’t even try it.” Tabi slowed down his tickling to simply drumming across his ribs, keeping the demon back on his toes, in between cloud 9 and hysteria.

Agoti was back to senseless laughter, what would have normally been hearty giggles were hiccupy cackles. His already ablaze nerves made it hard to calm down after the vicious ribbing he was going through. Tears were nearly about to fall out of his eyes and his face hurt from smiling so much.

“Again, Agoti, why do you keep tickling me?” His serious tone when he asked initially was gone and was swapped for a more, demanding but playful tone. This time, he was scribbling his fingertips not only across his ribs but all over his side. He momentarily danced them across his back, which got some funny squeaks out of him.

The digidevil buried his face in his arm and unleashed a flurry of uncontrollable mirth, stuck in-between giggling when he felt fingers wiggle against his shoulderblades to cackles when Tabi dug his rough fingers into the divots of his ribs and hips.

The Russian man was much more impatient than before as Tabi quickened his kneading into downright drilling. He made sure it didn’t hurt, but he made damn sure Agoti knew this wasn’t as bad as it was going to get. And he couldn’t handle that.

“Well?!” Tabi yelled angrily, causing the digidevil to flinch when he heard his bark above his hysterical cackling.

“OKaHAhAHAY- AHAHA! I’LL TEHEHLL YOU! I’LL TELL!”

“Vell, go on then, I’m getting impatient.” At least he had the grace to tell him. A few seconds later Agoti managed to regain his bearings, still a bit fatigued but not completely losing it anymore.

“It’s because I- EEK!” Agoti squealed when he felt a pinch on his lower ribs. A warning for what was to come.

“Hm?”

“Because I wanted to mess with you, damn!”

His lip twitched.

“Tabi, you know that I like to mess with my friends. You’re one of them, you see how I treat people close to me, man! It’s just my way of affection and if you didn’t like it, well that’s not my fucking proBLEM-! FUCK! GAHAHAHAHAH!”

“No, you’re lying to me again,” Tabi said calmly, his face as cool and collected as he could be.

“NAHAHOHO I’M NOHOHOHOT!” The digidevil retorted, contorting his body in never before positions as his friend dug into his lower ribcage.

“Yes, you are~” He singsonged, chuckling as his fingertips kneaded into his lower rib bones. Agoti screeched when Tabi began to dig and pinch into the very last bones of his ribcage, methodical in his method to keep his friend in a state of hysterical paralysis.

Agoti went limp under him, but his chest still gyrated with cackles and hiccups. His laughter went silent when Tabi focused on the very bottom rib, teasingly circling his thumb in the tender spot until he stopped.

Agoti squeaked when he felt something touch his left side. As promised, Tabi would get him if he caught him slacking. “AH! WAIT! NOHOHO! FUCK FUCK FUHUHUCK!” That side of his body had been entirely vulnerable for the entirety he had been kept stuck under Tabi. His choosing to exploit it now was a despicable decision.

He acted quickly and shot his arm down to protect it. Tabi hadn’t exited this time, rather, it gave him a much better opportunity to knead into the crevices of his ribs. Tabi wiggled to and fro, feeling Agoti absolutely spaz and lose it as he squirm and thrash uncontrollably, his legs now reignited in a fit of kicks.

“Told you what would happen.”

The former musician began to crawl up over the entirety of his left side, up his ribs, and even managed to graze his underarm a little. He smirked as Agoti squeaked, squirmed, and howled without fail. His ribs were just that ticklish and he was going to take advantage of that fact.

This went on for eternity, at least to the digidevil. Even Aldryx was more merciful than him and he was his brother! Agoti hadn’t even realized Tabi had stopped, he was just about to tap out.

“Last chance.” Tabi hummed, looking over to his friend’s face. He looked fucked up, his face was beyond red, now in a maroonish color, eyes teary and wet from the onslaught of tickling. He panted and panted, barely processing his friend's words.

Tabi stayed silent, quietly waiting for Agoti to speak up. He waited much longer than he had before, allowing the digidevil to regain his breath and recover. But when Agoti finally did, he said nothing, nothing at all. Tabi waited another minute longer and shook his head at the revelation that he wouldn’t be getting an answer.

“Awww, well that’s too bad~” The Russian cooed, beginning to slowly tweak his sides again. “What, did you want to be tickled that bad, Goti?” He chuckled when he heard Agoti groan, he hated being called that.

“S-shuhut uhuhup…” He said, exhaustion clearly in his voice.

“Naahh, you deserve it after wasting my time like this.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Agoti bluntly mumbled.

Tabi just chuckled, releasing his arm from his hold, allowing it to flop uselessly on the floor. He didn’t get off his back however, only readjusting his position to side sideways, no longer straddling him and allowing him to plop his feet on the ground.

The seconds ticked by, the two quietly enjoying one another’s presence. It was like this for a while, with Agoti being oddly complicate with being sat on and the Russian not saying a word, however, the silence was broken when he spoke up.

“So am I ever gonna get an answer?”

Agoti said nothing.

Tabi just sighed and went back to staring off into space.

“It’s cuz I like you.” He heard him mumble.

“Mhm…” His nodded his head and went back- wait, what?! What was melancholy turned into alarm, his eyes widened, and he turned his head to look at Agoti. His entire face was hidden by his tendrils, making it impossible to tell what expression he was making.

“Agoti…” Tabi whispered.

“Hehe yeah, it’s dumb. I get it if you don’t feel the same.” Agoti chuckled dryly, void of any amusement. Hell, he sounded a bit nervous. So much for ‘too early’...

The goatman was quiet and the digidevil expected him to get up before spitting out a blunt rejection. What he didn’t expect was the graze of bone grazing his head before brushing away some of his limp tendrils, allowing him to see the side of his face. His cheeks were bright and lips pulled into a tight frown.

“What, that’s it? You only just liked me?”

“Yeah…”

The former musician's chest shook as those deep, rich chuckles rang out of him. Agoti’s heart did a flip when he heard them but didn’t make it known. Tabi cupped the side of his face and turned it, forcing the digidevil to look at him.

His white scleras widened, his golden eyes were soft, and the fondness that glimmered from them was overwhelmingly tender.

“I like you too, Agoti.” He purred softly, maintaining eye contact with the young man, who by this point had completely melted, he could feel the blood pump to his cheeks as the man above him smirked. Damn, he was hot at this angle.

Tabi dismounted Agoti and sat beside his lying body. The digidevil, now able to sit up, did the same. He avoided eye contact like a bitch, he could tell he was staring right at him.

The silence was loud, with the man of his dreams staring at him like he was a million bucks. It gave him the ego boost, but he didn’t expect it so soon and certainly wasn’t ready.

“You want a kiss, big baby?” Tabi teased.

The question made the digidevil freeze and blush even more. He managed to turn to Tabi, who was much closer than he remembered. Agoti didn’t remember him looking this handsome, especially since his snout was a whisper away from his face.

His breath hitched when the goatman grasped his shoulders and pulled him in. It didn’t take long for their lips to touch, although his snout made it a little awkward, Tabi turned his way at such an angle that Agoti was surprised to feel thin yet firm lips touch his own.

Soon they melted into each other’s arms, with Tabi delicately kissing him and the digidevil being unable to think, his stomach exploding into butterflies.

When Tabi pulled away, Agoti collapsed into his chest. Tabi laughed in surprise but kept the man in his arms, playing with his hair as his other arm wrapped around his back.

His fingertips gently scrubbed through his scalp, sending chills down his spine. His tendrils were also ticklish, but of course, he couldn’t tell him that, otherwise, he’d never live it down.

“Oh, Agoti~” He cooed, taking full advantage of his accent. Hearing his name belted out in such a way made Agoti puddy in his bony palms. His chin was tugged upwards by Tabi’s hand and placed his chin directly in the center of his torso, allowing the two to make direct eye contact.

The Russian admired him for a second longer before pressing a small kiss to his forehead. “So cute~ Can I kiss you again?”

As if he could refuse. Agoti lightly nodded and thus the process repeated, the two gently kissing one another, with Tabi blurting out the occasional praise and compliment, somehow always catching the digidevil offguard. In the midst of their makeup session, Tabi had gotten a little mischievous and squeezed the side of Agoti’s ribcage, which made him shriek.

He chuckled evilly, as Agoti began to squirm, collapsing his back into his torso, only allowing Tabi to wrap his arms around his torso and attack his sides that way. He was hysterical, his cheeks now red with how much he was laughing.

“Aw, look at you~” Tabi cooed, pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. Boyfriend? Yes, boyfriend! He slowed down the tickles to soft wiggling, leaving the man softly tittering.

“B-bahahahbe c-cmohohohon!”

“Nope, that’s what you get for not being honest with me, Goti’!”

“God I fuhuhucking hahahate yohohou!” The digidevil spat, leaning his head against his boyfriend’s chest, uselessly grasping the wrists currently tickling the sides of his ribcage. Tabi just rolled his eyes, knowing that it was far from the truth, and focused on peppering his neck and cheeks with quick kisses, while tweaking his ribs.

What a day to be alive, I suppose.

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Fin~

Thanks for reading btw and being so patient with my inactive ass :333 💀