#I didn’t actually draw his face and settled for the mask bc I feel bad doing that when I haven’t caught up so here’s my half assed meme

[puppyeared]

places this gently on the floor and leaves

[plus-ultra-oof]

Pretty | SakuAtsu | Haikyuu!! | Tickle Fic

A/N: Ok hi so I wrote this a little while ago bc my SakuAtsu brainrot never stops and I figured I might as well share it. This is my first time posting a T-fic so please be kind lol. Also, sorry if the formatting is a mess I am on my phone.

Disclaimer: This takes place post timeskip so minor spoilers for Haikyuu! It’s nothing to major other than some vague things mentioned in passing. Also includes swearing and centers around tickling within a romantic setting (all sfw).

Summary: Sakusa’s stubborn as hell, but Atsumu is more than willing to get his boyfriend to go to sleep by whatever means necessary. Especially if that means he gets to see that pretty smile of his.

——————————————————

“Ya know, yer hair is really soft Omi,” Atsumu said, breaking the calm silence that had settled over the room. It was actually Kiyoomi’s room in his apartment this time. Atsumu was lying on his bed, running his hands through Kiyoomi’s dark curls as the other man laid across the bed, head placed conveniently in the setter’s lap as he attempted to read a book. He was far too tired to do so, in Atsumu’s professional opinion. The way his eyes kept falling shut for longer between blinks and how his grip on the hardcover kept shifting until he was barely holding it open where it lay against his propped up legs supported it too.

“You already- said that,” he replied, trying for flat and uninterested but the cute yawn that interrupted his sentence completely contradicted his unbothered persona.

It’d been a long practice for everyone, but especially the spikers. Both Bokuto and Sakusa had to run an insane amount of cut shot drills on top of their usual work. Just watching it had made Atsumu tired, so he could only imagine how Omi was feeling. The man had been practically dead on his feet when they’d gotten back to their complex, so the way he had melted into their bed upon finally brushing his teeth was unsurprising. His attempts at staying up were though. Atsumu blamed that on his insistence on keeping his routine no matter what.

The stubborn bastard could barely keep his eyes open, but sure, making it through a whole chapter of that thick ass book was totally plausible.

“It’s true though,” Atsumu was quiet for a moment and then, when he got no response he added on, “and it’s so pretty too,” For that he received a half hearted glare that was dampened by the way he could feel the man leaning into his touch as his fingertips scratched lightly again his scalp. The twin smiled, his boyfriend really lost his filter when he was this tired.

Gone were the biting remarks and cold expressions, leaving him far more pliant than he would ever admit to. Hell, here he was, letting Atsumu play with his hair and letting out little sighs of contentment. His eyes were even gradually falling closed as he relaxed into his boyfriend’s touch.

The harsh lines of his face were softened by the low light in the bed room, and with his brows uncreased by any worries and his hair pooled around his head like a dark halo, he looked almost angelic. Like something out of one of those fancy paintings.

“Yer so pretty Omi,” Atsumu murmured absently, the words falling from his lips easily. It was a statement to him. A simple truth of life.

The sky was blue, volleyball was the best, and Atsumu’s boyfriend was a damn masterpiece.

This was only proved further when his cheeks began to warm, the pink flush only complimenting smooth skin and pouty lips, twitching down into a petulant frown despite his flustered state.

“Shut it,” he mumbled in reply, unable to come up with a proper comeback in his half asleep state. Atsumu smirked. Another thing he loved about sleepy Omi was his inability to disguise any of his reactions. It always made messing him even more fun.

“Omiiii, Yer so cute m’gonna dieeeeee,” he teased, leaning down to admire his expression more closely. The new angle let him see the minuscule twitch of the corner of his lips, a sign that his adorable boyfriend wasn’t really as grumpy as he was trying to appear, “Aw is that a smile I see?” Said boyfriend had abandoned all hopes of reading his book in favor of moving off of Atsumu’s lap and onto his side of the bed, laying back and closing his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Atsumu,” he stated, his voice still managing to stay level and unaffected, a true testament to Sakusa’s insane amount of self control, “Now its late, let’s go to sleep,” Too bad Atsumu was too much of an asshole to let him be. And, he knew him well enough to chip away at that carefully crafted mask until his boyfriend was puddy in his hands.

Miya pouted and moved closer, letting his right hand come back up to rest in his curls again and the other land at his back, rubbing slow circles into it the way he knew Sakusa liked.

“Oh c’mon baby don’t be like that, I just want ta see that gorgeous smile of yers,” he let his chin rest on Kiyoomi’s shoulder, pressing close to his back as his arm trailed down to wrap around his waist. He placed a light kiss against his boyfriend’s temple. The first in a trail that led down his cheek to his jaw and then took a detour down and up his neck to reach his ear again, earning soft sighs and hums as he went. Atsumu smiled, his Omi really was sweet like this: All peaceful and relaxed and unassuming, “Do me a favor and lemme see it?”

He shifted from kissing at his neck to mouthing lightly and letting his lips graze the expanse of soft pale skin at his disposal and the reaction was immediate, even if Sakusa tried to hide it. Sure, he stayed quiet, but Atsumu could feel the shivers that ran through him when he started and how his shoulders began to shake the longer he went on. He felt him jump when he let the fingers at his waist trace lazy shape into his toned stomach.

“Atsumu-“ His name was rushed out in a breathy way that only Atsumu got to hear.

“Yes Omi?” He purred, directly into his boyfriends ear, savoring the little squeak that came from the man shaking in his arms.

“N-no,” he whined, actually whined, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of the tingly sensations that were quickly perforating his sleep addled mind and making him want to give into the bouncy feeling rising in his chest.

“Why not Omi? M’just tryin ta kiss ya?” He followed his movements easily, continuing the playful torment of his boyfriend.

“You- you know exActly whehy not!” The squeak was louder this time and Kiyoomi even let a few titters loose as Atsumu started using his other hand to lightly scribble at the other side of his neck while simultaneously blowing into his ear.

“Ooh was that a giggle there Omi? What’s happenin’ baby? Somethin’ funny?” Atsumu knew that if he could, Sakusa would be griping about the teasing and how this whole thing was immature and unfair. For now though, he was too busy trying (and failing) not to devolve into a ticklish mess, so Miya was content.

“Nahaha stahahap yohuhu bahahastard!” He forced out through his giggles. The sound was light and filled with gasping breathes and squeals. Kiyoomi hated it, but it was one of Atsumu’s favorite sounds. Especially when he knew he was the cause of it.

Whether it came from unraveling him like this or timing a sarcastic joke just right, he savored it each time he got to hear it, so he didn’t appreciate it when both ungloved hands flew up to muffle it.

“Hey what’dya do that for?” He asked, his own pout forming on his lips as he leaned up to see his boyfriend’s face. His eyes were squeezed shut again and the flush was even brighter now. What was really captivating though, was the way his whole face seemed to brighten, even with his open mouth smile covered up.

Atsumu couldn’t help but stop and stare for a few seconds before remembering the task at hand. To see that pretty smile for real.

“C’mon Omi, just pull yer hands away or m’gonna haveta resort to extreme measures,” Atsumu increased his effort at leaving barely there kisses along Kiyoomi’s neck, feeling his heart race against his lips when he reached the pulse point. This got a cacophony of muffled squeaks and giggles before he finally gave into instinct and moved one of his hands away to push at his face.

As soon as it came up, Atsumu saw his chance and took it.

The hand that was drawing shivery patterns over sharp hip bones immediately skittered up Sakusa’s side to find its mark just above his ribs, sending the arm crashing right back down with a muffled shriek.

“Pffft phmp uff,” Came the dampened response as the other hand stayed stubborn in its quest to deprive Atsumu of his happiness. He decided to take it up another notch, because despite his tiredness, his Omi-Omi was still able to put up a good fight. He wouldn’t have him any other way: As headstrong as he was talented.

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” Atsumu leaned back just enough to leave some space between himself and Kiyoomi’s back. For insurance and safety purposes, he threw a leg over his waist to make sure he would fall off the bed.

Then all bets were off.

He started actually scratching at his armpits in tandem with leaving sloppy kisses along his spine and shoulder blades and any other part of his back he could reach at the moment, and the reaction was instantaneous and oh so satisfying.

“Mmmmphhhuhuhuck AtsuhuHU! NaHAHA STAHAP!”

“What babe? Somethin’ wrong?” He made sure to speak against the skin of his back, his words sending ticklish tremors through Kiyoomi as his worst spot was attacked.

“NOHOHOT THEHERE AHATSUHU!” Something seemed to switch off in his brain as his arms finally fell limp at his sides and he threw his head back against the pillows, laughing fully now. When they did, Atsumu immediately toned it down, abandoning his underarm in favor of leaving feather light scratches down the sides of his boyfriend’s back, making him shiver and keeping him caught up in his giggles without torturing him too bad.

Omi could never say that he was anything but nice about this....Well at least at this particular moment. Sakusa definitely kept a dated list of the times that his boyfriend had ruthlessly abused this specific weakness, but that was besides the point.

“Ahatsuhuhu,” Atsumu looked up at the sound of his name falling from upturned lips and found himself mesmerized by the sight.

Now that Kiyoomi had given up on stopping him he’d shifted to flop down on his stomach, bracing his head on his arms as he tried to contain the shaky laughter still spilling easily from his mouth. His hair was tousled from the struggle and his eyes were teary from laughing so hard and he was in an eternal state of flushed and fuck he was beautiful.

Too pretty for his own good. And Atsumu’s. At this rate, he was gonna die before he got to the Olympics.

He could just see it now: Miya Atsumu, beloved son, brother, boyfriend, and teammate. Cause of death: Seeing his godlike boyfriend laugh his heart out.

Shit, ‘Samu was right, he was whipped.

“Tsuhuhuhumuuu, m’tired,” Whiny giggles followed by a familiar yawn brought him out of his thoughts and he let his fingers slow to a stop, moving up in the bed to be beside his still giggling boyfriend. He turned him over onto his back before placing his book onto the nights stand and turning out the light.

“A-asshole,” Sakusa groaned, through breathy pants, giving him a half-hearted shove as he turned to face the blonde.

“But ya love me,” he teased moving in closer to lay his head on the dark haired man’s chest, listening patiently as his heartbeat finally started to slow down.

“You suck,” he murmured in response, his tone empty of any real malice. Plus, the way he was snuggling closer and lacing their hands together across Atsumu’s waist contradicted his words anyway.

Atsumu smiled and took a final look at his boyfriend before closing his eyes to follow him into sleep. And as a man of a limited vocabulary when it came to most things other than volleyball, his last thoughts prior to drifting off were as simple as they were true: Omi’s so pretty.

[gwynrielsupremacy]

Azriel surprises Gwyn for her birthday PART. 6

Guys just so you know i need to think of a better name for this bc like THIS IS GETTING BIIIIG (I have a playlist on spotify called "what would gwynriel sing" and i think i'll draw inspiration from there lol)

IT'S GWYN'S POV AGAIN (and this one's a little shorter lol i'm sorry... Rhys is in this chapter bc i honestly share the headcanon that Gwyn and Rhys would be close friends!)

MY GIRLS: @starbornsinger @madie2200 @katiebellf here it is!! And check out the Chapter List here

Gwyn couldn’t deny. She was nervous. That morning the words just rushed out about leaving the library, because she truly felt inspired by Diane’s words. She had spent the previous night awake, even if Emerie and Nesta had long fallen asleep, thinking about what she had to do next. She was feeling braver. Maybe it was because that was the best birthday she had since Sangravah, or perhaps ever, due to the circumstances. She still missed Catrin like crazy during the day, still felt that familiar ache in her chest when she worked at the library in the afternoon, or went training in the morning. But somehow, after everything that has happened in the evening, the lingering image of her sister started being more of a comfort, a companion, than the sorrow and guilt she was accustomed to.

Still, she was nervous.

She did really want to leave the library, and Clotho seemed happy, maybe even proud, to let her go. Merrill didn’t care as long as she kept working for her, at least a couple hours a day. One day, Gwyn thought that would change too. But for now, one step at a time. The night she went to the Town House and dined with the Inner Circle was one of many small steps Gwyn’s been giving these last few months towards more autonomy, independence, and strength. Towards the life she wanted for herself. And now, the day where she decided to move out of the library was the day she took another one.

And Azriel… Honestly, she thought she would be more scared about the prospect of having a mate than she actually did. Most of all, she was happy. She felt lucky and had the confidence that if anything were to happen between the two of them, they would take it slow, at her pace. She wouldn’t have it any other way. That if Azriel were to find out about the bond any time soon; or if she would summon enough courage to tell him. Because if he did know, he would’ve said something by now, wouldn’t he?

Yep. She was very nervous.

What she dreaded the most was the fact that Azriel, well, he may not feel the same once he found out. The Cauldron could be wrong, after all. And all these last months of getting closer to each other, training in companionable silence, laughing together, bantering… She was more than grateful for their friendship, but she knew that Azriel still had some things to figure out – about Elain. If he truly still felt something towards her, that was enough to strain Gwyn’s hopes for the moment. To maintain the quiet feeling to herself, and what it meant; that she was indeed worthy of happiness not only alone, but with another one.

She tried to push all those feelings aside as she was getting ready for dinner at the River House, the High Lady and Lord’s official estate. She looked at herself in the mirror, spinning side to side. It wasn’t much – after all, she didn’t have any clothes besides her robes, nightgowns and training leathers – but the outfit the House provided was more than enough. Her baggy turquoise linen pants and her white, loose crop top made her extremely comfortable, even if the latter was slightly shorter than what she was accustomed to.

She still wore the necklace Azriel re-gifted her. When he told her a few months back about the whole story, she truly understood him. He was in a bad place at the time, but so did she. And even if he had indeed made a mistake, she was glad to have it now. To know that someone gave it to her willingly, that was the thought she held on to. First person considered or not. And besides, it looked great against her freckled skin.

A gentle knock on the door of her new bedroom sounded. “Gwyn, you ready?”

“Yeah, come in”

Nesta opened the door and something sparked in her eyes as she stared at Gwyn through the mirror.

“You look beautiful, girl”

She spun on her heels and smiled at Nesta.

“I do, don’t I?”

They both laughed as they linked their arms and left the room.

“So” Nesta begun, as they walked towards the main entrance together “How are you settling in?”

“It’s very cozy, and I just love that view. The House is providing me everything I need at the moment. Thank you for inviting me to stay.” She gave her sister a grateful smile

“Well, I was serious; you can stay with us for as long as you want.”

“That means a lot.” Gwyn couldn’t contain her smile as she gently nudged her head against her sister’s.

“Don’t mention. I know you’d do the same for me.” And Nesta was right. Without thinking twice, Gwyn would have done the same for both of her newfound sisters. She was so grateful and thrilled their paths had crossed this way.

“By the way” Nesta mentioned innocently when they reached the common area “The room you chose, well, that’s three doors up from Azriel’s. If you have a problem with that, feel free to say it.”

And as she was summoning his presence, that was the moment the Shadowsinger came to vision, talking to Cassian in the balcony – waiting for them.

Gwyn drew on a breath, staring straight at him. When he caught her eye, she couldn’t help her smile. And when his eyes glittered, scanning her from head to toe, she answered quietly to her sister:

“No. I think that’ll be fine.”

*******

The River House was beautiful. Gwyn admired it as the four of them stood by the front door. It was big, but the decoration made it seem comfortable and cozy, despite its size. A true home, Gwyn thought.

Feyre opened the door, a warm smile instantly on her face.

“Come in!”

As soon as they stepped on the entrance hall, Gwyn marveled at the big painting on display. It was a portrait of Nesta as she held the line at the Pass of Enalius. Her cunning eyes seemed to look directly at anyone who came in, daring and challenging. “This is amazing.” She said, tearing her eyes from the image at last and looking at Feyre. Cassian and Nesta had already entered the living room and Azriel stood by the doorway, lingering.

Feyre was still smiling at her when she answered. “Thank you very much, Gwyn. I have others I can show you later, if you’d like.”

“I would love to. You have a beautiful home.” And she could barely conceal the emotion in her eyes as Feyre held her hand and sighed gratefully. She, maybe more than anyone, was well aware of how lucky she was to have such a family.

“We do.”

It was just when she reached the living room and beheld all of those who Feyre and Rhysand loved the most she felt Azriel’s presence still a few steps behind her, his eyes fixed upon her. A tendril of shadow curled up slightly at her wrist, as if saying We’re here. So she looked back for half a second before entering further into the room, only enough to meet his cryptic gaze and give him a half-smile. And couldn’t help the sparkling feeling in her chest when he gave her a reassuring nod.

*****

The night was going on peacefully. Gwyn didn’t say much, and it was rather content in observe. That way, she didn’t feel exposed, and also could get to know the Inner Circle better: their dynamics and bantering, how they acted around each other and discussed both serious and light topics. Elain, for example, was sitting in a chair in the corner, drink in hand. She only joined for dinner, ate quietly and then excused herself from the table for a long time. Rhys and Feyre took turns in watching Nyx, since this evening he went to sleep early. Emerie and Mor were having what seemed to be a very intimate conversation, knees touching and heads close, and Nesta and Cassian, well… They were being their usual selves.

And then she landed her eyes on the Shadowsinger. He was definitely the quietest of them all, even if during dinner he had participated in the more serious subjects of conversation and exchanged a few casual words with Gwyn. She could observe enough to notice he didn’t once glance at Elain, or her at him, and that they kept their distance. He actually seemed to have spent the evening doing the same thing Gwyn was, which was observing; except for him it was natural, a second skin. He certainly had enough time these hundred years to know well about the rest of his family, while she was doing that precisely to learn more about them. If it was easy for her to be like this, for him was instinct.

She couldn't stop but detain herself on the details of his face, though, as he now spoke to Mor, who had subtly approached him. He wore that inexpressive mask, but she could see the way his brows were slightly furrowed, his jaw set just slightly... There was something concerning him, making him uneasy. She wondered, maybe for the tenth time, when she would tell him. Or if she should let him find out by himself. And again, her heart fluttered as he put his hands in his pockets and nodded along, listening to Mor.

How could the Cauldron have chosen this? To have defined them as mates... He was the one who saved her, who’d seen her low, who helped her at the very worst moment of her life. And although she would be forever grateful for it, she was aware he had enough on his plate – to burden him with her feelings... She didn't know what to do. It was at that moment their eyes locked across the room. She didn't realize she had still been staring, and quickly darted her eyes away.

Only to meet with Rhysand’s staring at her from across the table.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry.

Oh, shit. Shit. Gwyn contained her gasp. He heard her. She didn't know for how long, but he could read her thoughts.

I was just going to ask you if you were feeling okay.

She knew what he meant. But still...

"Please. Please don’t say a word". She managed to whisper to that presence in her mind.

He doesn't know? She could feel his curiosity. Although they were still staring at each other, his face yielded nothing.

"I don't think so. Please, just…"

Don't worry, Gwyn. I won't tell him.

She could've cried in relieve. "Thank you."

He only nodded at her and raised his glass, and she could feel his presence fading from her mind.

*****

When they arrived at the House of Wind, a few hours later, Gwyn was still a little uneasy. She needed to learn how to shield her mind properly; even if she felt she trusted Rhys’s word, she couldn’t feel relaxed at the thought that someone else knew about what she’d only recently discovered and were still trying to figure out.

She could barely stare at Azriel when they flew all the way back. They remained silent all the way to the House of Wind, and her gaze remained fixed on the city landscape below them, or on the skies above. Never on him or their closeness, even if she’d caught him glancing at her a few times. They landed just a few minutes after Nesta and Cassian. When she meant to let go of his hand, he held it just for a moment longer:

“Did you have fun tonight?”

She nodded, managing to bring a smile upon her face. She didn’t want him to see how nervous she was; they were never like that around each other.

“A lot. Your family is very…”

“Extravagant?”

“I was going to say kind. But they might be a little extravagant, too.”

The corner of his lips tugged upward, and she let out a quiet laugh. “Are you going to sleep now?”

“In a few hours, maybe. I think I’ll hit the training ring first.”

She nodded. His shadows swirled a little at his shoulders. She seemed to forget about her nervousness for a second as she noticed his slightly furrowed brows, as if he was concentrating: “You know you don’t have to restrain them, if it tires you.”

“They should behave better.” It was all he grunted back, slightly annoyed at his dancing shadows.

“Well, I don’t mind at all. I like them. So at least around me, you shouldn’t worry about it.”

The seconds her eyes held his stare were enough to make Gwyn feel like she could burst – or touch him, again. So she turned away and smiled over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Az.”

All she felt before reaching the stairway was a tendril of shadow gently curling around her arm.

[sharkmobster]

more funtime found family au stuff but this time focusing on funtime freddy and michael's relationship. it's incredibly rambly and turns into off-kilter dialogue but i gotta get this off my chest.

tw mentioned child abuse/death

• doesn't actually like michael (at first) even tho i draw them hanging around each other a lot

• bon bon is the only reason he does loaf around him. (bon bon and bonnet being the only ones who like Michael in the beginning.) They're attached to each other so it's inevitable that they would hang around mikey.

• ft freddy plays really mean spirited jokes on michael bc he's not allowed to harm him. he has to get real creative. (ft freddy has a lot of anger inside of him. people write him off as being dumb and goofy but really that's just a mask that he put up so he didn't scare people away. of course the funtimes know how he is, knows who he is right to his core bc they're all connected on a deeper/technological level.)

• (slaps funtime freddy. this bear can fit so much trauma and abandonment issues in him!)

• can be incredibly vindictive when he wants to be and takes out a lot of his agression on Michael. michael shares the afton name (bc he sure as hell doesn't look like william in my au lol) and that alone is enough for ft freddy to bully him.

• (the funtimes blame william for abandoning them so ft freddy takes it especially personal when his ankle biter comes around to "liberate" them. and on some deeper level freddy is just terrified that michael will abandon them all, just like willy did. he never voices this of course. opting to show his apprehension and fear in a more destructive way, pushing Michael further away.)

• canon ft freddy: sinister but still goofy and knows how to have a good time

my ft freddy: goofy and repressed anger issues, doesn't know how to enjoy himself without causing someone some kinda pain.

• michael gets fed up with being terrorized eventually and confronts him, and ft freddy drops the silly act for a bit just ready to blow up at him. (he can't even place why he's still so angry at michael when really he's been nothing but hospitable and accomodating to their wants and needs but fuck he's just so wound up he doesn't know what to do) michael compares him to william during the argument (cruel and vindictive just like william wanted) and ft freddy nearly rings his neck, absolutely seething but bon bon doesnt let that happen of course. (idk if this is confirmed canon but bon bon was designed to placate freddy. he raises his voice even slightly and bon bon's petting his face, stopping him from getting even more agressive)

• ft freddy shuts down after the confrontation ends (emotionally, anyway) and the blow out itself is completely anti climatic, nobody getting hurt. he ends up isolating himself from the others with bon bon hovering around like a concerned mother hen. Baby and the others give him space but michael (after he cools down anyways) won't leave him alone.

• See the thing is: Michael understands. Michael understands more than anyone what it's like to feel so deeply, what it's like to hate and hate and to keep hating until that rage is your whole life. It's suffocating. and he had to deal with that all on his own, choking on his own grief and rage without anyone to guide him. (his brother is dead bc of him and he carries that with him everywhere he goes, in everything he does.)

• They're living in the countryside of France at this point in time, far off from any wandering eyes, a thick forest surrounding their home. Freddy has a few hiding spots that he scouted out within the first few days of staying there. And that's where Michael finds him, hiding out in a small alcove by the a creek, throwing rocks at the trees (and sometimes wildlife).

• freddy doesn't aknowledge him, ignoring him like a child would and bon bon frets nervously between them, not wanting another fight to break out. Michael tells them that he's not here to fight anymore, he just wants to talk. you like to talk, don't you? and freddy doesn't say anything, running his fingers through the dirt, absentmindedly.

• michael asks bon bon to leave so that they can have a private convo and bon bon freaks out like absolutely not, he might hurt you and michael asks freddy directly like "are you going to hurt me?" freddy still isn't talkative, and he's rigid when he shakes his head no after a bit of silence. Bon Bon asks if he's alright with him leaving and freddy just shrugs, still staring at nothing in the distance. bon bon hesitates for a few moments before finally leaving, telling Michael to call out to him if he's in danger but michael rushes him along.

• it's just them now, nothing but the sounds of nature around them. michael asks how he's feeling and freddy shrugs again. Michael strikes up a one sided conversation, stepping closer and closer to him over time not really getting any kinda response out of him but eventually, during his rambling, freddy finally looks at him and says "Y-You just don't get-get it." and then goes back to the silent treatment.

• Michael's quiet, having made his way up to standing right next to freddy (he's only a tiny bit taller than him when he's just sitting like that). he nods his head, considering something for a while until finally he goes "Did I ever tell you about what it was like? Ya know. Being William Afton's golden child?" freddy doesn't say anything but he pauses from drawing circles in the dirt, tilts his head just a fraction to let mikey know he's listening.

• michael stares at the creek. "He wasn't the most outwardly loving father. Wasn't really the nicest one, either. But, I wanted his approval so bad, I'd do anything for it." Freddy slowly turns his head to watch him carefully. that's got his attention. "I did a bunch of stupid shit back then, all cause I wanted to be noticed by him. But all that attention went to my little-" and michael draws in a sudden breath, pained. stays silent for a moment, working up the courage to speak. "I did something awful to my brother. All for my father. And it's an awful thing to say but his death didn't matter. Pops didnt bat an eye and Mom was too far gone by that point after Elizabeth...." he looks back in the direction of the cottage. "Well.... you know what happened to Elizabeth." Freddy's stare is hard and unyielding. "He's gone now and I was the only one who cared enough. His fuckin' abuser cared more for his passing than his own father did."

• "He threw me into the basement. Did you know that?" Michael bounces from one foot to another, anxiety written into his very bones. he's lost in his rambling now, having never spoken these words out loud to anyone. "I killed his son and he locked me away in the dark for three years." Freddy fully turns to give Michael his undivided attention, stock still, hanging off of his every word. "I got out. Eventually. I ran away and lived on the streets for years until someone got a hold of me. Told me my old man was missing, presumed dead. Got a pretty penny from the fazbear business he co-owned with Mr. Emily. Things were going good, I guess. I was overwhelmed for the most part, didn't do anything other than bounce around from hotels every few days. In some way, I felt like he was still out there, watching me. I just kept running. And then i found out about you." He glances at freddy and looks away quickly when he finds an unblinking visage staring back. "Found out about all of you. Locked away in a storage facility for over 30 years. In the dark. All alone." an incredibly long silence stretches out between them, freddy fidgeting, hyperaware of every noise going on around them.

• "You think I don't get it. But I do. I think I understand you more than anyone could." Michael's staring back at him, raw emotion across his face, eyes soft with empathy and that's what makes Freddy turn away from him. Suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't want to fight with you. Not you. Not Ballora, or Foxy, or Eli-" He visibly winces, but regains his composure. "...I just... need you to understand that I want to help."

• Freddy's never been so quiet, and it's such an odd sight. Michael's not sure if he should say anything else or if he should leave the bear alone. the bear speaks up, finally "W-We could've kill-killed you."

• "That was always a possibility, yeah. I woulda deserved it." Freddy's not sure if he likes the way Michael talks about himself sometimes. "I needed to get you guys out of there, though. That was more important than whatever could've happened to me." Michael huffs. "Besides, if I hadn't bailed you guys out then I would've never gone to Paris. Ballora has good taste in real estate, I think." and despite everything, freddy lets out a sudden breath that could've been mistaken for a sensible chuckle. Michael smiles anyway.

• Things settle down afterwards, though there's no bite to Freddy's jokes now. They're not as close as Michael wants, Freddy still keeping his distance, keeping his walls up but it's something.

• Freddy starts watching horror movies with him late into the night and until dawn. Doesn't let Michael sleep in afterwards and he might just regret this but it makes Freddy happy. Things go back to normal in the cottage, as normal as things can be for a motley troupe like them anyways. Michael starts laughing at his jokes more.

[ofmythsandmadness]

c’mere, honey | d.h

BASED ON THIS ASK... can i ask for a like happy fic wit female pronouns and prompt 34? diego hargreeves pls ily -- anon. WARNINGS:  female pronouns used; no physical descriptions of the person are made, but I didn’t go gender-neutral on this one, per the anon’s request. this was written a while ago, but i’m reposting bc tumblr refuses to let anything of mine be shown in tags anymore. :( hopefully this works. x

HE WASN’T SURE WHEN THE NIGHTLY VISITS BECAME A SERIOUS HABIT.

He never did it with the intention to start a regular schedule. It had only been a combination of piss-poor factors -- his late night street-stalking habits, his inability to stay away from the one friend he hadn’t lost yet, and the fact that no matter how bad his night had gone, he couldn’t make it past a minute without laughing at one of her stupid jokes, or smiling at her dancing stupidly in the kitchen in an attempt to make him happy. He wanted to be around her, and his body dragged him to her apartment even without thinking about it, and then...it just happened.

He came to her almost every night. Sometimes he felt bad about it and skipped out, forcing himself to take a break from bothering her. But she scolded him about that every time. Like she actually wanted him there, stinking about her living room and staring at her swivelling form every chance he could. He didn’t really believe her, but he came anyways.

Couldn’t keep himself away.

That night started just as they always did. Diego slipped in through the half-cracked window, and she hailed him in with a loud cry too cheery for that time of night. He used to flinch at her touch; over time, he grew to expect it. Even going so far as to reach for her incoming arms, pulling her to him as tight as he could and burrowing his cold face in her neck. Sometimes, he debated pulling back enough and kissing the soft, sweet-smelling skin, just barely pressing his love into the curve.

“I missed you,” he said instead. The words were muffled by her thick red sweater, but when her arms squeezed a little harder, he knew she heard him. “You good?”

“All good,” she replied. “Better, now that I’ve seen you.”

They’ve always shared a flirtatious relationship -- it built naturally and lingered even when they remained strictly platonic. Maybe it was what he liked most about her. She didn’t seem to bother with the strict guidelines of most friendships. Lines always blurred with her and the way she hugged, how she held his hand and traced soft details into the calloused skin -- how she pulled him to the couch and sank into with his arms still around her, forcing his shivering body to lean into her own honey sweet touch.

She pulled away from him a little, holding onto his gloved hands. Her own fingers danced over the black fabric.

“You’re always so cold.”

“M’sorry.”

She shrugged. Her grasp still held. “Not a bad thing. Just an observation.”

Diego wondered if he should pull away. If he should just pull his hands out of her grasp and throw himself out from whence he came. He didn’t want to ruin her. Pull apart her naturally warm energy with his cold, bitter touch. She was too good...for him, for the world, for life in general.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

Her brows furrowed dark and heavy over gentle eyes. In the back of his mind, Diego imagines reaching out and smoothing the worry lines that formed. He considers letting his cold hands press into her skin. His fingers almost leap forward on their own accord. It takes all his inner strength to hold the eagerness back, to remind himself to keep some distance.

His hands fell limp in her grasp. She didn’t miss a beat.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Diego didn’t look at her. He knew she would catch the strand too quickly and pull the lie too fast and he wasn’t built to withstand a loss like that. “I’m okay.” But his voice caught, and he stumbled over his own falsehood. “I...just…”

“...just?”

“Tired,” Diego sighed. And he is. It’s not far from the real, full truth. “Just tired.”

Her head cocked, surveying his sunken form. Her tongue clicks; the sound made him think of a hen, and his brain imagined her fussing over him with the grace of a mother.

“You need to sleep more, honey.”

God, he loved when she called him honey.

“Nah? And miss hanging out with my favourite person?”

Her nose crinkled. If he was more alert, he would catch how her eyes glowed dull red in the lamplight, or the way she had to blink away the fuzzy feeling creeping into her mind. He’d later chide himself for it. “There’s no way I’m your favourite person.”

It was easy, though, to just know his answer was right. Not because of the fact that he could count the number of people he liked on one hand, or because she let him show up too late and stay too late and bother her until it was way too early. She was comfortable. He didn’t have to think about what he said next with her, or what was going to screw things up, or if she was going to leave him because everyone else had.

“Regardless of your lies,” she said, cutting him off before a single syllable could leave his lips, “you should sleep. You’re exhausted.”

“I’m good.”

“Yeah, and I’m a superhero.”

“Are you?”

She didn’t laugh at that, just clicked her tongue again before suddenly, out of nowhere, pulling her hands from his grasp. She left him cold and stranded on her dilapidated couch and he just watched, seeing her rush out of the room before he could protest.

“I - is--” the words failed him, because his brain failed to catch up to the point where she left him and hadn’t yet provided a reason why. Diego stared at the point he last saw her go. “Is everything okay?”

THUMP. THUMP. CRASH.

“What -- are you okay?!”

“I--” two more thumps come crashing down, echoing into the tiny living space. “I’m good! Just -- stay there!”

“How the -- what the -- why can’t I come?!”

“--don’t get up! I’ll be right back!”

It took every single inch of him to remain seated. He yearned to rush over, pull out a knife and slice through whatever danger she must be facing -- it’s only her voice that stopped him. The reminder that ‘throwing knives in her apartment is absolutely off the table, no matter the circumstances’. She taught him patience, forced him to swallow the bitter pill and remain in his seat despite the fear careening through his bruised and battered frame.

When she returned, he could see the surprise on her face that she was still there. And even when his heart raced and threatened to pop in its shallow cavity, Diego smiled. Are you proud? he wonders to himself.

“Take off your harness,” she instructed. The bundle in her arms fell to the ground with a decided plop of fabrics; his eyes immediately caught on the brightly coloured comforter, and the mound of pillows she had stuffed into it. “Get comfy, you know, whatever--”

“--what are you doing?”

“Oh,” she said, like she was only just then realising the oddity of her actions. Her gaze flitted down to the blankets, then back up to him. “Well, I just...call it setting up camp.”

That didn’t answer anything at all. “What?”

“Take off the thing-y!”

He obliged, still waiting for an answer.

She rushed forward and pulled her blankets with her. Diego followed every motion. “We’re going to make you relax. It’s cold, and I know you’re tired, and you need to take a break at some point. The city’s gonna lose it’s Knife-Boy if you don’t take a little break.”

He huffed. His gaze caught on her own, sharp and amused. “What, we’re going to cuddle?”

“Don’t laugh, honey. That’s exactly what we’re gonna do!”

“I -- what?”

Her grin is bright and unwavering. Yellow, he mused to himself, just as bright as the first rays of sun or the polkadots on her pillow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never cuddled before, honey.”

“Uh…” Shit. Crap. “Well…”

“Holy shit, have you never cuddled with someone before?!”

He shrugged haplessly, too embarrassed (was this something to be embarrassed about?) to look at her again. “Never came up in life?”

That was somewhat true. Childhood rarely offered moments of comfort amidst the grueling battles he fought with, for, and against his siblings -- and when it did, it came in brief cheek kisses and pats on the back when his father wasn’t looking and his mother saw his face fall most. He never realised there was even more to intimacy of any kind until he left the Academy and he fucked up his first relationship, then fell into another with Patch. And Patch hadn’t craved physical touch like he secretly did, so he pushed down the desire to pull her tight to him and let her leave him cold and high. He never fought for touch because simply he didn’t believe he was deserving of such things. That he was too stiff and wild and red all over to be embraced like a kid.

Not until her, did Diego crave it most. But he fought it and settled for the little things. To avoid hurting her, too.

“Oh, honey…” her voice drips of yellow sympathy, sweet and soothing against his wounded heart. He let it sink into the cut. “C’mere.”

Diego didn’t fight her. He let her pull her in. He watched, almost out of his own body, as she tugs off his gloves and tosses away his domino mask, smiling softly back at him with the gentleness of a dove. Her arms draw an inviting embrace and he would be a fool to not fall into it, even when he felt stiff and awkward in her hold.

“Relax,” she whispered into his ear. She smiled slightly when he shivered, pulling back so she could rest against his shoulder. “Just...relax.”

“You know I got places to be tonight, right?”

“Not right now, you don’t.”

“I can’t just…”

The hand that wasn’t clinging around his shoulders pulled at his fingers; he smiled despite himself as they once again twisted around his, intertwining the slender digits. He fought the urge to kiss her knuckles.

“Lay back, and relax, honey.” Her head curled in, resting more on his upper chest then. He wondered if she could feel the pounding of his heart. “Even badass losers like yourself, need their rest.”

“You don’t have to do this, for me.”

Her face shuffled closer, moving from his chest to rest just where his neck curved down to his torso. He might have imagined it but Diego thought he felt just the slightest brush of her lips against his skin -- soft enough so he could pass it off as nothing, but there enough for him to roll the moment back, over and over and over in his mind.

“Sure, I do,” she mumbled. His embrace pressed even closer. “Everyone needs a cuddle buddy.”

Diego snorted, half out of principle and half because he never thought he’d be in a position like this with anyone. Especially not someone he would trust so indefinitely and without question. Someone who called him honey, without questioning the sounds before they left her lips. He wondered if one could get addicted to a physical sensation, and if he would be the next victim, that he would become obsessed with the feeling of someone actually holding him.

“Just relax, honey.”

And in spite of all his worries and his mind, he obeyed his heart, and did.

A/N - I’m purposely choosing not to reread and reread this because I’ll hate it. I already sort of do, a tad, but...oh well. Not my best work, but I hope this is alright and you enjoy. :)

[ultraspideysense-blog]

Surprises (Tom Holland Imagine)

request: “Do you think you can write a tom holland x reader where they are dating and she surprises him on set in his trailer...” (requested by anon)

short summary: ^^^with a funny lil twist lmao

length: 1.4k words

warnings: i didnt label this as smut bc it’s not inherently smutty and i didn’t rlly  write any legit smut in here, this is mostly fluffy shits.

A/N: i didn’t put the whole request above bc i didn’t wanna spoil the whole thing but the anon knows who they are hope u like it bud kinda short but eh also sorry i suck at titles

“Thanks Harrison,” you smiled gratefully as he led you into Tom’s trailer on set.

“Of course, Tom’s been whining about how much he’s been missing you so I’m sure he’ll be pretty excited for this surprise,” Harrison replied shaking his head. His phone buzzed with a notification. “I’ve gotta go, but Tom should have a break in around 20 minutes if I remember correctly.”

“Cool, I’ll just chill in here I guess,” you said, taking a seat on the couch in the corner. He then bid you goodbye, leaving you on your own. Your curiosity got the better of you as you started to inspect his trailer. And it was loaded with a ton of cool shit.

Damn, you thought to yourself as you opened up the fully stocked mini fridge in the corner and took out some Fiji water. You know they aren’t playing around when they’ve got a mini fridge full of Fiji water.

After poking and prodding with a few more items in Tom’s trailer, you settled yourself back the couch. Checking your watch, it was just about time for his break. Instead of just staying seated and acting nonchalant for when he came in, you decided to hide behind the couch and freak him out a bit.

Just as you’d put yourself in a position where you’d be able to pounce, the door to the trailer opened. Taking a risky peek above the head of the couch, you see your boyfriend all decked out in his Spider-Man suit from head to toe, minus the mask. You’d never actually seen him in the full outfit in person and it took everything in you not to geek out at how real and amazing it looked, especially on him.

Ducking back down before he noticed you looking, you waited. You heard him take a seat on the couch, tapping away on his phone. Slowly rising up from behind the couch, you rested your head on the top next to his. After waiting a few seconds, he still hadn’t taken note of another presence.

“Whatcha doing there pal?” you asked coolly with a teasing smile on your face.

Tom’s head immediately whipped to the side, knocking your head in the process, as he let out a surprised yelp. You groaned a bit, rubbing the side of your head.

“Y/N? Holy shit, what are you doing here?” Tom exclaimed excitedly, jumping out of his seat.

“Apparently trying to get a concussion,” you grumbled as you stood up. Tom reached out his arms to steady you a bit as you got up from the ground.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, scratching the back of his neck. You took a few more moments to adjust yourself and you felt fine, so you just gave him a smile in return.

“Harrison kept complaining that you were complaining about how much you missed me, so I decided to come out here for a few days,” you explained. “That, and I kind of really missed you too.”

Your boyfriend pulled you into a hug. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he mumbled into your hair. You hummed against his chest in response, trying to memorize every aspect of his body. His strong grip, his slight scent of the woods.

“Remind me to never go this long without seeing you again,” you said quietly as you held him a bit tighter. Between Tom’s shooting for Spider-Man: Homecoming and your commitments to university, you two hadn’t been together in almost a month.

He pulled away from the embrace, his hands sliding down to hold you by your hips. “Deal, darling,” he replied with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Okay, I have actually never seen you in the suit in person, and this is actually pretty badass,” you said as he released you to playfully do a pirouette. “Now I kind of want to get myself one of these.”

“Trust me you, don’t,” Tom laughed. You cocked your head quizzically.

“I mean it’s really cool, don’t get me wrong, but it takes a village and about 45 minutes to get this thing on completely. And it is tight in places where it should not be tight,” he said, shuddering a little bit.

“I still want my own suit,” you replied stubbornly. “It can’t be that bad.”

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed your face by the cheeks and pulled your face to his for a proper kiss. You relished in the warmth of Tom’s lips, and the careful yet forceful way he responded to yours.

Tom began backing you up, without breaking the kiss, until the two of you fell into an ungraceful heap on the couch. He was situated on top of you, but pulled back for a minute to study your features. You did the same to him.

You were in love with this boy. You loved way the light never seemed to leave his deep brown eyes and the way there always seemed to be a strand of hair out of place, sweeping across his forehead. You reached out a hand to adjust it, and ended up softly caressing his cheek. He grinned.

“I love you,” you said quietly.

“I love you more,” he said, booping your nose with his finger. You giggled quietly at his antics.

“When do you have to be back out there?” you inquired as your laughter died down. He got off of you to grab his phone to check the time.

“3 minutes,” he groaned with a frown. A wicked smile overtook your face as you thought of a way to spend those next few minutes.

“Don’t frown, I’m here for a couple days. Just shut up and kiss me before you go,” you said grabbing him by the hand and pulling him back on the couch, this time climbing on top of him.

Initiating the kiss this time, it got heated faster, the added pressure of time making the two of you antsy. After sharing a few gentle, careful pecks, you went all in, losing yourself in the moment as Tom’s arm wrapped around your waist.

Your hands seemed to have a mind of your own as they ached to feel Tom everywhere. They spent a few moments mussing up his hair, another few around the back of his neck, then down to his abs.

He moaned into your mouth as your fingers started to draw small patterns on his abs. a few inches above where he probably needed you most. You made a move to unzip his pants, but realized he was in this goddamn Spider-Man suit.

Despite your inability to go any further, you could feel him growing hard against your thigh. You didn’t have the heart to stop, so you just continued making out with him, slyly introducing your tongue to his mouth to further things.

“Tom, are you in there?” you heard Harrison outside the trailer. You scrambled off of your boyfriend in case the door was to be opened. Tom looked a bit mortified as he realized his unfortunate predicament.

There was no way he could hide his hard on in the skin tight material of his suit, nor was there any way he could get rid of it before he had to go back to shooting in the next few moments. You burst out laughing as Harrison opened the door.

“Come on, we’re on a tight schedule today, Jon’s not gonna be happy--” he stopped mid-sentence as Tom tried to grab a something to cover the evident bulge in his suit. You were in hysterics, mentally patting yourself on the back for your handiwork. Harrison joined you in your laughter.

“Now that is rich,” Harrison got out as he tried to subdue his chuckles and gave you a high five.

“Shut up and help me!” Tom whined, desperately looking between the two of you. His face was flushed and contorted in a grimace.

“No way that’s not my job,” Harrison said with his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, babe, if you’ve gotta be on set then I don’t have any time to help,” you replied teasingly, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later,” you called out as you ran out of the trailer.

“Y/N, god, I’m so getting you back for this!” he yelled after you.

Tom jumped up to chase after you, but as soon as he opened the door he remembered his little problem and jumped back inside, where Harrison was doubled over in laughter yet again.

You were definitely in for it the second he was done for the day, that’s for sure.

please give me feedback what did y’all think? didn’t rlly know where to end it lolz sorry. requests are always open tbh (it might take me a minute to get to ur request though so be patient bubs) <3

also the full request was this lol: “Do you think you can write a tom holland x reader where they are dating and she surprises him on set in his trailer they kiss and things get heated *wink* but they realize that they can't do anything cause he's in his spider man suit”