#kayde wrote something woah

[gingerlee-holds]

Ok ok so and idea for a fic: Alastor broadcasts one of his frequent tikl attacks on Vox so everyone in hell knows about his weakness (any length is fine)

oh!!! thank you for the idea and request anon/lovebug!! i hope you enjoy this!! its not directly related to the series im currently writing about ler!alastor, but its related, so maybe its on the same storyline just in the future- enjoy!!

aaaa i absolutely did not proofread this so ignore the terribleness xD

Tune On In

Words: 2228 Warnings: not proofread lmao- also mentions of alastor's violent tendencies but its offhanded

Pentagram City, among the only metropolitan areas in Hell, was bustling. Cars honked in endless traffic, clubs blared out noisy music, guns were fired, and demons screamed in agony or ecstasy, often both. There were a few moments when the city was blissfully serene, though these were rare occurrences accompanied by tragedy. For instance, after the formerly annual Exterminations, the entire city held its breath for the toll of the clock tower to signal that they were spared. These minutes of agonizing silence were rarely enjoyed, though.

There was only one other time when Pentagram City was so quiet: when the Radio Demon made a broadcast. Each radio and speaker in the city played the single, agonizing transmission. The hair on the neck of every sinner rose in fear, and every overlord held their breath. The terror and respect Alastor garnered by broadcasting the suffering of his victims made him the second most feared being in Hell, second only to Adam. Now, though, the commander of the Exorcists had been disposed of, meaning Alastor now had the top spot. And when the speakers across Pentagram City suddenly became overwhelmed by static, the Radio Demon smiled to himself, knowing he had the rapt attention of every demon in the Pride ring. 

"Testing, testing~! Is this thing on?" Alastor's voice echoed through the now-silent streets. “Salutations, sinners! Thank you all for joining me on this lovely morning! The temperature today is a downright balmy eighty-six degrees, and we're getting reports of a chance of acid rain in the southside around ten o'clock, so keep those umbrellas ready, folks! Now, I'm sure you're all wondering who I have with me as today's special guest on the program, and I'm thrilled to introduce him~!" 

Alastor spun around in his chair, grinning with delight at his victim, who lay on the floor of his recording studio, bound by magic tendrils. The businessman glared up at him, mouthing, "Don't you fucking dare," to no avail.

"Yes, it is my absolute pleasure to welcome everyone's favorite wannabe, the overrated picture box himself~! Everyone give a hand to Vox, CEO of VoxTek Enterprises and peddler of the same useless trinkets and gizmos corrupting today's youth! Yes, a big hand for the pixellated prince!" Alastor pressed a button on his soundboard to play a recording of raucous applause. 

Velvette looked up from her phone, blinking with realization. She cringed and looked over at Valentino, who looked like he was about to throw another tantrum. "How was he stupid enough to get himself captured?" she mumbled as she ran to the security cameras. Alastor continued his monologuing as Velvette watched, dumbfounded, the recording of Vox reading a letter before storming into a power outlet. She looked behind her as Val grabbed the letter from the table and began to read it silently, fuming.

Alastor wanted to prolong this as much as possible. "How have your stocks been doing, old pal?" he asked innocently, extending his microphone staff for his guest. 

"Just fine." The mic was sensitive enough to pick up Vox's angry sparks and glitched voice as he spoke, struggling to seem level-headed now that he was being recorded. 

The Radio Demon giggled. "Any new products you'd like to promote?"

"No."

"Ah, but enough of business. Let's get on to business!" Alastor laughed at his pun, standing up to walk around his victim. "You're very nervous, chum!"

"Get real. This has got to be the trashiest- ACK-" Vox froze mid-sentence as Alastor pressed the tip of his cane on one of his antennae. 

"Careful. Don't forget whose guest you are~!"

Vox growled in annoyance and squirmed a bit in Alastor's magic. He hadn't even bothered to wear his suit before running over, which he regretted as he lay on the floor in a button-up shirt and slacks. Looking down, his heart sank further: he was still wearing his slippers. 

Alastor removed his cane, walking towards those slippers. "Still pissed I almost beat you that time~?" 

"Uh… fuck you!" Vox snapped. 

"Just saying~!" Alastor grinned. 

Val looked up from the letter. "He stole my line. That bitch! He stole my goddamned line! I swear, I'm gonna-" he growled before storming off, leaving the paper on the table. 

Velvette quickly ran over and skimmed, murmuring to herself. "'To whom it may concern,' blah blah, 'scheduled for a meeting,' yada yada, 'meet an associate at 6 to…'" She stopped and squinted at the page. "Hell does 'vouchsafe' mean?" Her brows furrowed as she connected the dots. Alastor must have sent this letter to lure Vox out, and Vox, thinking he was late for a meeting, ran from the tower without telling anyone. "That idiot!" she yelled, punctuated by Val throwing a wine glass against a wall two rooms down. 

Alastor let a sinister chuckle escape his lips. "I think you have some things you should share with our dear audience! For instance, what exactly did you suggest I do seven years ago?" He waited patiently for the question to sink in.

"I- what?" Vox raised an eyebrow, not seeming to understand.

"Seven years ago, you came to me with a proposition. What exactly was it?"

The question finally clicked for Vox, but he scowled at the Radio Demon. He'd die before he gave that prick the satisfaction. He stayed silent, sparks shooting around his body. 

"Suddenly, the chatter-box is quiet~! Such strange times we live in. Don't worry, folks, I know how to make our guests talkative~!" Alastor quickly used his cane to flick away Vox's slippers. 

Demons looked away from their radios, wincing preemptively at the agony they were about to hear. Overlords felt beads of sweat rolling down their faces. Velvette leaned closer to the radio, pursing her lips, nervously fiddling with the pens on the table. Vox squeezed his eyes tightly shut, expecting Alastor to break his toes any moment now.

The moment stretched on. Vox tried to hold his breath, but when he couldn't, he finally exhaled slowly, and when he did, the Radio Demon struck.

“H-heehee- n-nohow wahahait, hohOld oHon a sehhec-!” Vox shot upward, looking down to see Alastor lying on his stomach, his legs swinging behind him as he gently traced one claw up and down Vox's sock. “T-theheere’s n-noho wahahy youhuhu're- c-cuhuhut ihihit ohuhut!”

"Hm, feeling a bit bubblier, are we~?" Alastor grinned impishly, slowly adding the rest of his fingers to scribble over Vox's feet. Now realizing what the Radio Demon had in store for him, Vox clamped his mouth shut, every muscle in his body straining to contain his laughter. An electric current had formed between his two antennae with the effort he was using.

Suddenly, Alastor's voice appeared next to his ear. "Go on, you little gigglebug, let it all out~!" Vox shot a glance sideways to see Alastor's shadow whispering to him. "Besides, we both know you're far too ticklish to resist~!"

"F-FuhUhuhUCK! YoUhuHUHU oHohOLD-TihIhIMEy PRiHihiHICK!!!” Vox snorted and arched his back as much as he could. Teasing was just too much!

Velvette's shoulders relaxed a bit. It didn't seem like Vox was in trouble… However, when she double-checked her phone, she saw that social media was blowing up about the CEO of VoxTek being tickled, which had unfortunate results on the company's stocks. At least she could rest a bit easier knowing that her friend- no, business associate was in no real danger. She was shaken out of her thoughts by another staticky shriek.

"Come now, I know you wanna tell all our lovely viewers about how you-"

"NoHoHOHO!" Vox shook his head, but his eyes bugged out when he felt tendrils squeezing at his hips. 

"And now~? Let's change that channel~!"

"OKAHAHAY!! OKAhAhahAHAY! FuhUhuhUCK!!" Alastor slowed down but didn't stop the gentle tickles to keep Vox in a giggly state of embarrassment. 

"Go on~! What did you propose to me all those years ago~?"

“T-thahat… thahahat youhuhu chahahange youhuhur nahahame tohoho Vahalahastor-!” Vox’s screen turned red as he remembered the thought.

Alastor cued the laugh track again. "That's right! Since you wanted me to become a member of your polycule so much-!"

“IT’S NOT A POL- EEHEHEHEEEK!” Vox's indignant shout was cut off by a squeal he couldn't contain when he felt Alastor's claws scribbling against his shoulder blades. 

"Now, next question!" Alastor pretended not to hear the squealing mess on his recording studio floor. "When we fought those years ago, who won~?"

"NEhehHITHER!!" Vox desperately tried to weasel his way out of the question and his tickles, but with both, Alastor kept him pinned. 

"Technicalities!" Alastor smirked and added shadowy tendrils to the back of Vox's knees as punishment for his insolence. "Nobody technically won, but only because…?"

“THEHEHE VEEHEEHEES!!!” Vox bluescreened as electric shocks flew off in every direction, making Alastor step back a bit and slow down again. “Theehehe Veeheehees cahahame in ahahand sahahahved meehehehe!” 

"Right, since I was about to win~!" 

Vox growled in frustration, trying to get his composure back. "Yeah, but how about that fight with Adam? Talk about- ACK-!" Vox was again cut off by the cane on his antennae, and he looked up into the face of the radio demon, with eyes in the shape of dials and horns extended. A radio hiss filled the studio, echoing out across the city. 

Alastor waited a few moments before responding. "Many nasty rumors are going around about me, Vox, mostly thanks to you. Only one is completely and wholly true, and it's this." He bent down close to Vox's face, making him flinch away. "I do have a special appetite for the flesh of other demons. Vox, my good old friend, I need you to know I am famished at the moment."

"Y-yeah-? W-well-" Vox tried to think of something clever but came up short. "Y-you're not going to eat me, Al! I'm all wires. Wouldn't taste good!" 

Alastor hummed in thought. "Perhaps you're right. I have a refined palette, and junk food would just ruin my mood." He smirked at the insulted stammering Vox let out before continuing. "However, I just can't resist a little taste~!"

"What? WaitwaitAlasTOHOHOHOR!!!!” Of all the things Vox expected from his worst nemesis, nothing could have prepared him for when Alastor bent down and began gently nibbling his teeth over Vox's ribs through his shirt. Oh, he would never hear the end of this from anyone. 

"Final question," Alastor chuckled. "What is your biggest weakness~?"

'Oh, fuck, no, please don't make me say it!' Vox's mind raced. Was Alastor seriously going to- 

The Radio Demon let out a raspberry on the middle of his ribcage, sending him into silent hysterics. Yep, Alastor was going for the kill… metaphorically. 

"IHIHIHI'M!! IHIHIHIHIEAHAHAHAHA!!! AHAHAHAL!!!" Vox tried getting the words out, the words he knew would spare him from this hellish tickling. Alastor, mercifully, stopped and let Vox catch his breath, pointing the microphone on his staff to Vox's face. Vox sighed, feeling the built-in fans on his head whirring crazily to cool him down. He whimpered softly, defeated and made into a giggly mess, so he mumbled pathetically, "I'm deathly t-tihihicklish…"

"Yes, indeed he is, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you so much for joining us today. I hope it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me! Although, I know Vox appreciated it the most~! Tune in next time for another exclusive interview~! Vox, will you be coming back on the show?"

"N-nohohoho…" Vox tried to hide his face in the tendrils but wasn't very successful. 

"What a shame! We have so many more laughs to share, don't you think~? I'm sure we'll all hear from you again soon~!" With that, Alastor flipped a switch, and the studio's large 'ON AIR' sign turned off. Across the city, speakers began playing their regular music again, and the city's noise returned in all its chaotic, messy beauty once more. 

The radio demon released his tendrils, and the businessman slowly and wearily rose to his feet. Every muscle shook, and he leaned against the wall for support. "This… This isn't over. You won't get away with this." He turned back and glared daggers at Alastor, sparks shooting off his hands.

"I have! Now, don't dawdle! You need to address the media~!" Alastor pointed out the window, and Vox turned to see a gathering crowd of reporters and camera crews assembling around the front of the hotel. 

"F-fuck." 

"Off you go~!" With a gentle push, Alastor sent Vox on the most embarrassing walk of his life as he stumbled through the hotel, his slippers in hand. 

Charlie, face glued to the front window nervously, whirled around when she heard footsteps. "Oh! Please, come again soon!" She smiled and waved at the demon, who simply huffed.

"I won't," he said under his breath, pushing open the doors to be greeted by reporters shouting and snapping pictures. What a mess. 

When he finally got back to V Tower, he got quite the earful from both Velvette and Valentino. However, when they were alone together, Velvette grinned and scribbled a hand over Vox's ribs to make her friend giggle. It was cute, and goodness knows she needed a stress reliever now and then. Maybe she had to thank Alastor sometime for unintentionally gifting her such precious information. At least Vox didn't lose a limb in there: only every last shred of his dignity.

[dont-sneeze]

I don’t know what this is but I hope you enjoy?

The year was 1899. It was two a.m. in Manhattan, New York. Because it was night and every sane person was sleeping, there wasn’t much noise compared to the daytime. It was quiet now, nice for thinking and reflecting. During the daytime, one could see and hear the cry of newsboys all over the city, trying to make their living on half a penny a paper-

“Yeah, yeah they all know the plot, C.” Jack commented leaning against the railing of his rooftop penthouse. “That’s why they’re reading this in the first place. You can just go on with the Angst so we can get it over with.”

“Jack.” Crutchie limped up next to him. “Be nice. She’s trying out a new style of writing. You should be honored she even writes about us. After all, we are just a bunch of nobody’s to the rest of the world.”

“Yeah, well I don’t appreciate all she’s put us through. It hurts. Over and over and over.”

“But it always turns out happy in the end. That’s why we’re still here.” Crutchie reached over and took Jack’s hand.

Jack tried to keep the scowl on his face, but it didn’t stay for long once he looked at Crutchies hopeful expression. “Okay, okay fine.” Crutchie beamed at Jack as he rolled his eyes. “Go on with your story, C. Just try not to break us too much. Can you at least tell us why we’re still awake so late at night?”

The stars seemed to sparkle with amusement. Jack didn’t even notice that Crutchie had sat back down over the ledge, his legs dangling off while looking into the empty streets below. Jack looked down at the brown haired boy, wondering-

“Woah, hang on. Since when was Crutchies hair brown?” Jack interrupted. “It’s blond. And when the sun shines on it, it’s like the sun is kissing it. It’s beautiful. Not brown. That’s my hair, dark and dirty and gross. Crutchie has the best hair in the world.” Jack placed his hand on Crutchies shoulder, causing Crutchie to look over at him. “Crutchie is the best in the world.” He whispered, looking into Crutchies eyes deeply.

“Jack, you’re getting sappy.” Crutchie looked up. “I think she’s just basing me off Andy Richardson in this story.”

“And who is she basing me off of? I got four options who all have the same hair color. There’s no other way to describe me.” He complained, making Crutchie chuckle.

“Just let her tell the story. Maybe this one will be happy?”

“You gazing out into the night sky at two in the morning can’t be happy.”

“Shush! Let her write it!”

Jack sighed heavily, looking down at his brother. “Okay, but you feeling okay? You haven’t slept in a few days.”

“I’m fine, Jack.” Crutchie pulled his legs up to his chest. “Really. I just can’t sleep.”

“I know. But you need sleep.” Jack sat down next to Crutchie.

“I’m so tired, Jack. But every time I close my eyes, I see that awful place and suddenly I’m wide awake again because I can’t go back there.”

“You won’t, I promise you won’t ever go back there. I know how awful it is, and I won’t let anything like that happen to you again. Never. I refuse to let it happen. Hear me?”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Well, not if C keeps writing these stories. Then no. I can’t promise it. I’d like to promise it; but that’s not possible, knowing the way she writes.”

“Jack, why are you focusing on the negative here?” Crutchie tried to reach out and take his hand.

Jack shook his head, and pulled his hand away, standing up. “Because that’s what 90% of her stories are! For some reason she rips us apart-”

“But only to bring us together again, closer than before.”

“But at what price, Crutch? I’m terrified that one of these days she’s gonna write something that will keep us apart from each other, and I can’t take that right now. Crutch, I just… I can’t bear the through of loosing you, not again!”

“You won’t loose me, Jack.”

“But I already did once. When you died… I fell apart. I couldn’t sleep or eat or breathe… and I can’t take that again.”

“She’s not gonna make me die again, Jack. That was a one time thing when she needed to put her emotions on you.”

“Oh yeah, because I deserve all this?”

“Jack, stop. She’s going through a hard time in her life right now. Maybe she just likes seeing us overcome struggle? Maybe she wants to tell herself that if we can do it, she can too.”

“I… maybe.” Jack seemed to take this idea in a new way. He almost half smiled. “So we’re helping her build her self confidence?”

“Maybe not that, but seeing her work through her problems while writing dozens of story’s all the time makes me proud of her. And it’s interesting to figure out how she’s feeling with the story’s content.”

“Oh yeah? Give me some examples then.” Jack sighed heavily.

“If you come sit back down by me I would. Im still exhausted and maybe if we can finish this story quick enough I can sleep. But we can’t finish until you agree to.”

“If you can give me examples, then I will let her finish the story without interrupting.” Jack promised, sitting back down.

Crutchie curled into his side. “Well. There was that one she wrote about when I was in the hospital because I fell out of a tree?”

Jack snorted. “Yeah. That one wasn’t really realistic.”

“It doesn’t matter, Jack. She wrote it because she was sick of a certain rule that was set for her own safety, but she didn’t want to ignore the rule because she knew she could get hurt herself. And writing that story reminded her how she could get hurt and how disappointed everyone would be in her.”

“Okay, well that’s one out of hundreds of them.” Jack unconsciously examined Crutchies arm, just to make sure it wasn’t broken.

“And one of my least favorites is one of my favorites because of the story behind it.” Crutchie continued, as he played with Jack’s fingers. “The one where you kinda turned to the dark side and were a jerk to me… i lived in the hospital, and you told me you would pay me 500 bucks if I walked across the city to your apartment. I did it because I needed the money to pay my hospital bill and stay alive. And when I did you laughed in my face and-”

“Yes, I would like to not remember that whole story, thank you.” Jack grumbled. “I hated that. I hated what I did to you. How could writing that possible help her with anything?”

“Because she might have had a best friend turn on her, and she felt completely alone and vilified by the world. She didn’t know what else to do, and didn’t like the ending she got. So she gave us the same situation, but with a happier ending.”

“She had a friend who really did that to her?”

“Well her friend might have not made her walk across the city, but they could have made her feel stupid and useless and unloved.”

“Oh.” Jack leaned his head on Crutchies shoulder, then decided to just reposition and lie his head in Crutchies lap. “That’s horrible.”

“Aren’t you glad she chose us to help put her feelings into words?” Crutchie began to run his hands through Jack’s hair.

“I wouldn’t say glad because I hated every word that came out of my mouth, but yeah, I guess. But I still need another example.”

“You’re needy, Jack.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Jack replied. His eyes were closed, and he was just feeling the wonderful sensation of Crutchie playing with his hair.

“Remember that story about us going out west and meeting her at the restaurant where she works?” Crutchie asked quietly. He was exhausted. But he couldn’t go to sleep, even if he wanted to. Playing with Jack’s hair helped a lot though, knowing that Jack was real, and not the refuge. Not anymore.

Jack scowled. “The one where you got lost for three days?”

“Hey, that one wasn’t that bad.”

“Crutchie I was worried sick about you! I couldn’t eat or sleep, I didn’t know if I would ever find you again!”

“But you did, Jack. And we’re okay again.”

“And what was the point of that one anyway, huh?” Jack sat up, much to Crutchies dismay. “She loose a friend once and found ‘em a few days later?”

“She’s lonely Jack. You could tell when she first started talking to us when we came in. She just wants a friend.”

“She’s got plenty of friends.” Jack scoffed. “Em and Kayde and Ammon and Joey-”

“And how long has it been since she’s seen those friends in real life?” Crutchie interrupted. “Most of her friends she’s never even met in person! And the friend she does know in person, what was it, thanksgiving when she last saw Ammon? She thrives on physical contact, and when there’s no one around you feel comfortable with-it’s draining. You of all people should know this Mister Jack can’t take my hands off anyone for a second Kelly.”

Jack didn’t say anything in reply, for the first time actually understanding and realizing.

“I was her friend. She could open up to me. She felt comfortable and happy for the first time in months.”

“Yeah you two were partying while I was sick with worry. Why do I always get the lousy end of the deal?” Jack pressed his thumbs on the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t. You just take it worse then me.”

Jack only grumbled in reply.

“Can we move on with the story now?”

“You’re always so positive about this.” Jack shook his head.

“No. I’m just saying all this to make her happy so she can write me sleeping.”

“Maybe you can ask her nicely?” Jack suggested, pulling Crutchie against him.

“Yeah…” Crutchie yawned and leaned against Jack, feeling warm and safe.

“Just breathe and remember I’m right here.” Jacks soothing voice came in, and Crutchie felt overwhelmed with a happy feeling and when his eyes slipped closed, he didn’t dream about the refuge.

[gingerlee-holds]

I feel bad for popping a request in ☠ anyway

If you're feeling up to it, perhaps ler Todoroki x lee Reader (bc me and reader insert are inseparable /j) from MHA? Length, perhaps 900+ words if possible? But I'll be grateful for anything haha, I also don't want to force you to write more if you're not feeling inspired i'm gonna be honest here I haven't watched MHA in a long time ☠ and I have no idea what scenarios would be realistic because he's,, Todoroki,,

Personally i'm a sucker for evil/more intense tickles because I wish I was ticklish but if that makes you uncomfy do feel free to ignore :)

oh hush, you!!! i love requests, so thank you so so much!! i just hope this is somewhat what you wanted heehee- enjoy!!! i have a huge crush on this dork so that creeps in- also the reader's quirk is whatever you want it to be, cuz its not mentioned- also also!! im really really sorry if i fuck the names up cuz from what i know of the show, Todoroki is the family name, so Shoto is the given name but i could be totally wrong

i just wanna say that i really really like writing the rambly bits from Shoto about the book-

the reader is sorta a brat lol

Like Poetry

Words: 2,334 Pairing: Ler!Shoto, Lee!Reader Warnings: lotta fluff!!! not proofread!!!

You groaned as you entered the common room. Mr. Aizawa’s personal training was brutal today, and you were not looking forward to feeling how sore your muscles would be tomorrow morning. Sighing, you grabbed one of Sato’s cupcakes from the counter and flopped onto the sofa, confident it would be unoccupied. It was about seven in the evening on a Friday, which meant everyone was either in their rooms or somewhere around town. 

You huffed into the mattress before gasping at the sound of a page being turned. Looking up, you saw you were about a foot away from, in your mind, the strongest student in your class. He was sitting with perfect posture, reading a book with yellowed pages. On the coffee table sat a mug filled with tea.

Shoto Todoroki didn’t look up from his book at you. If he knew you were there, he didn’t show it. He silently read, seemingly fully absorbed. You sat upright, shaking off the embarrassment of almost landing on him, of all people. 

You cleared your throat and gobbled up your cupcake in one bite, setting the wrapper down next to his tea. Still, he didn’t move. Raising an eyebrow, you poked him in the side to get his attention, and the surprised gasp he gave made you giggle. Shoto looked at you, brow furrowed in annoyance, but his face soon softened when you smiled and waved.

“Hi!” you said chipperly. 

He nodded politely in return. “Hello, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.”

With a chuckle, you shoved his shoulder. “No worries! Whatcha reading, bookworm?”

Shoto tilted his head. “I’m not a worm.”

You sighed and repeated your question without the tease. You loved that your classmate was so adorably literal. 

“I’m reading this book of old poetry. I don’t remember where I got it - it feels like my family’s always had it lying around. I decided to read it today since everyone’s out.” His voice was calm as he spoke.

You were somewhat interested in the subject but mostly just wanted to hear him talk some more. It was so rare that he spoke. “Anything good in there?”

“I found this one that I liked,” Shoto said before flipping back a few pages. “Rain on lemongrass. / Ash trees weep o’er their lost sun: / Their light and love, gone.”

The poem made you hum in thought. “What’s it about?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” he asked. Taken on its face, it was an insulting question, but you knew Shoto was genuinely unsure whether to explain it. You shook your head in reply. “The poem is about heartbreak. A woman falls in love with someone, and suddenly, that person has to leave. The woman feels like she has nothing left as she cries into a world that has bigger concerns than her. Soon, perhaps, her love shall return, the sun re-emerging from the clouds, but there’s also the possibility that she doesn’t last until then, and the wind blows her over. Ash trees symbolize grief, so perhaps they may never meet again. The lemongrass, evoking a cheerful memory, is smothered under the rains that hide her beloved.” Suddenly, he looked up from the page. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was rambling.”

You scratched your head. “How did you get all that from just three lines?” You didn’t mind, of course. He was cute when he rambled. To your great surprise, he let out a soft and sheepish smile. 

“Well, I suppose I have too much time on my hands,” he said, looking away. You smirked and poked his side again, giggling at his surprised reaction. Shoto let out a muffled yelp and jumped, glaring at you suspiciously and rubbing his side. “Quit that.” 

“Sorry, Icy-hot! Can’t be helped!” You held up both your hands in mock surrender.

“Hm,” Shoto mumbled, looking back to the book. “This book was written entirely by hand. See? This character is slightly different here, here, and here,” he continued, pointing at different parts of the page. “And from what I can tell, its publication predates quirks, hence why they are not mentioned. If they had quirks, you would think there’d be a suggestion of their existence, no? Yet there’s nothing. For all intents and purposes, it seems like this book is a remnant of a simpler world.” His expression looked distant as if his mind were a hundred miles and years away. 

You leaned back, folding your arms behind your head. “Sounds dorky. Maybe you should tell Deku! I’m sure he’d be all too interested,” you chuckled, then looked over. If he heard your comment, he gave no sign. He must still be lost in thought. Looking down at his side, you saw it was perfectly exposed. You were pushing your luck. Then again, what is a hero if not someone who tries their luck? You pursed your lips together and quickly extended your hand to poke Shoto’s side again. 

But he was faster. As if expecting your reckless act, he set his book down and grabbed your hand before it made contact in one fluid movement. “You don’t listen, do you?”

“I do my utmost to avoid doing that, yes,” you said, giggling nervously. His grip was firm, giving you no delusions of escape. His hand was chilly, as if Shoto was threatening to encase your whole arm in ice at any moment. You tugged slightly.

He didn’t let go. “No, you need to learn this lesson.” Somehow, that was among the scariest things you’ve ever heard, right alongside the speech of the hero killer and Mr. Aizawa announcing an extra homework assignment before the summer break. Shoto pushed your legs toward the end of the couch, pinning you to his chest with both hands held behind you. You shuddered as Shoto said, “Now, learn well.”

Since both your hands were stuck behind you against his torso, you couldn’t defend yourself whatsoever when he descended both hands onto your stomach. You erupted into bright, bubbly laughter and kicked your feet like that would do anything to help. All that went through your head was repeated, ‘Oh, fuck, that tickles!’ 

You heard Shoto’s hum of approval from behind you as he clawed his fingers over the thin fabric of your shirt. “Interesting,” he mumbled to himself. 

“ShIhihihihIt! ShohOhOHohotoHoHoho!” You shook your head and thrashed all you could, but it didn’t matter. Shoto was stronger, and he would make sure you knew it. 

“Yes, Y/N?” he asked casually.

“STohohoHOAhaap!!” It didn’t have a chance of working, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“No.” Shoto’s clawed hands squeezed around your stomach in circles, taking a moment to dwell on your extra-ticklish lower stomach, which he took delight in exploiting. If you didn’t know any better, you would even say he enjoyed it as much as you were. 

“NohOHoHOhoHT TheheHEherre!” you pleaded helplessly, throwing your head back to give your torturer the best puppy eyes you could… although they were far less effective than you had hoped since they were quickly squeezed shut in uproarious laughter. 

“Here? Right here, yes?” Shoto released a flurry of pokes on your lower stomach as if he wanted confirmation.

You nodded and hiccupped, doing all you could to contain the blush that bloomed on your face at the sound of his cooing hum. Mercifully, he gave you a break, and you panted for breath against him. “Shihihitt…” you giggled, squirming in his grasp to get the ghost tickles off your tummy. 

“Here,” Shoto said, and you turned to see he was holding up his mug for you. Gratefully, you took a big sip of the refreshing tea, smiling a little at the warmth of it. It was strangely sweet; you had expected Shoto to only like the bitter teas, but surprisingly, the flavor was somewhat sugary. As if reading your mind, Shoto said, “It’s chamomile. It helps me relax.” He took the mug from your mouth and set it back on the table. 

Shoto cleared his throat. “Now,” he began, “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Is my release dependent on how I answer that?”

“Yes.”

“Then… Never!” You madly giggled as you attempted to escape his grasp before quickly regretting it. He had you suitably pinned, and to further reinforce his lesson, you realized with terror that he was rolling up your shirt to your ribs. “Wait, Shoto-!”

Your tormentor didn’t give you time to finish. Without fanfare, his hands descended onto your exposed tummy. Instead of clawing around, as he had done before, he was using quick scribbles, which, coupled with his cold fingers on your bare skin, was maddening. 

“SHohOhoHOTO!” You had no idea you were so ticklish! By the looks of things, it seemed like he had been in tickle fights before, and from how badly he was wrecking you, he was used to winning them. 

He hummed in thought as your thrashing weakened. “Your belly button is incredibly ticklish,” he observed. It was, to your dismay, very accurate. It didn’t help that his cold finger was heightening the feeling!

“PLehEHehEHHEase! MeheHEheheercyy!” you squealed out, kicking and bucking like a horse.

“Goodness, you’re dramatic. It’s only tickling, Y/N. If anything, this should build your endurance. What if the League captured you? I doubt you’d last a minute before you spill everything you know if they knew this weakness of yours.”

Why did he have to be so monotone with his teasing? He sounded so casual as if he were still explaining the history of that old book - only he was speaking over your hysterical cackling. He was a fast learner, too: he was pretty adept at locating the spots that got an especially wild reaction out of you and cruel in punishing them.

Shoto’s fingers increased in pace while always keeping one wiggling about in your navel. “I know,” he said, “I get it; you’re very, very ticklish. Now calm down.” You could hear the smile in his voice. He was having fun! “I wonder… you’ve inspired me to write my own poetry! Let’s see…” He paused to think, unfortunately not slowing down the tickles, making you yelp and shriek. “Ticklish cutie / Squealing on the couch with glee / With a cute tummy,” he slowly said as if writing it down. With a gasp, you felt him do just that, writing down the poem on your belly with the tip of his fingernail. 

You turned beet-red as you threw your head back, your laughter turning silent. You had long since begun crying with delight, and tears rolled down your cheeks in rivers, but he didn’t stop until you started coughing. With a chuckle, he released you, and you panted for breath. You didn’t move from his lap, and Shoto didn’t seem to mind. He gently placed a hand on your forehead, tilting it toward him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked gently. You nodded with a smile, which he returned. His smile was inviting, like a sunbeam on a winter’s day. He slowly helped you sit back up and handed you his mug again. You eagerly gulped it down. The tea was warm and sweet, and when you finished it and set it back on the table, you realized that Shoto wasn’t too different. 

“Thank you, Shoto,” you said softly.

“For the tea?”

“Yes,” you replied, “and… for the tickles. It… helped me unwind.” You looked away and rubbed your neck shyly. 

“You’re welcome, Y/N. It was fun for me, too. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that.” He smiled again, a small treat like candy. “It’s nice to see you so carefree. You’re usually a ball of nerves,” Shoto admitted bluntly, making you sigh and nod in agreement. 

You basked in the silence for a bit before both of you suddenly looked up. That was the unmistakable sound of… And right on cue, the word ‘mumble’ began to figuratively float across your field of view. At its origin, you and Shoto saw Izuku madly scribbling in his notebook and mumbling about something. You swore you caught the words “ticklish,” “stomach,” and “squeals.” 

Behind Izuku, standing in the hallway, were Ochaco, Denki, Tsuyu, Mina, Eijiro, and Kyoka. The first two desperately attempted to quiet Izuku, to no avail. You sat bolt upright, glaring at the unwelcome audience. 

Eijiro broke the silence with a playful swat to the back of Izuku’s head. “You got us caught with your nerd shit, Deku,” he joked, making the green-haired hero look away backfully. 

“That was adorable!” Mina grinned, pointing at you. “You made a bunch of noise, so we wanted to check it out!” 

“You’d better erase what you wrote, Deku.” You spoke calmly but in a way that gave no misapprehensions about your seriousness. 

Ochaco looked over Izuku’s shoulder. “Doesn’t look like he’s gonna do that.”

“Midoriya,” Shoto spoke up. “Be sure to write that they couldn’t use their quirk while being tickled.”

You gasped at the betrayal. “Don’t you fucking dare write that, Deku!”

With a glance, Denki, Kyoka, and Tsuyu replied simultaneously, “Oh, he’s already writing it.”

With a growl, you shot from the couch. “You’re fucking dead, Deku!” Your classmates yelped with shock and ran down the hall from you, stifling their giggles. 

Eijiro, egging you on, tossed back over his shoulder a snide, “Now you’re sounding like Katsuki!”

“Oh, I’ll make Katsuki look like a fucking bag of pop rocks when I’m done with you idiots!” Your threat carried no heat since it was filled with giggles. You couldn’t help but laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation, smiling fondly at how much you loved your friends.

And behind you, on the couch, Shoto grinned with pride as he picked up his book to continue reading. He was glad he had been allowed to be so affectionate with someone for a chance. Absent-mindedly, he picked up his mug of tea for a sip but sighed disappointingly at the lack of tea inside. Maybe he needed bigger mugs. 

[gingerlee-holds]

Letting Off Steam

this is a bday fic for @littleleesblog!! my first steps into the hazbin writing community heehee! idk if people like this one, ill write sequels about him getting charlie (me), angel, idk we'll see

btw yada yada this is a tword fic- Ler!Alastor Lee!Lucifer

Word Count: Reading Time: Warnings: Idk, swearing? Alastor bein a lil shit? barely any editing?

If you prefer a quieter living space, perhaps the Hazbin Hotel isn’t for you. Loud arguments and the commonplace occurrence of walls being blown in could make for a very harsh experience on the ears - not to mention the frequent singing. There were, however, a few locations at the hotel where it’s quiet, such as Charlie’s room, the library, and, shocking nobody, Alastor’s radio station, located on the far northern side of the hotel on the very top floor. Whenever Alastor got the chance, he stayed in that room for as long as possible during the day - usually to avoid being roped into the shenanigans of the other hotel residents. 

On one particular day, however, it seemed like the radio demon couldn’t catch a damn break.

Charlie had called him to the lobby at 7 AM to settle a disagreement between Vaggie and Angel regarding “Breakfast Booze” at the bar. Then, not an hour later, Lucifer was badly practicing the accordion in the lounge. This was followed shortly after that by the TV demon, Vox, interrupting Cherri’s favorite show to deliver a laughably defamatory news segment on Alastor’s performance in his fight with Adam, accompanied by such phrases as ‘pussied out’ and ‘spineless.’ It should come as no surprise that he was already stressed when Charlie cheerfully gathered everybody in the lobby. His entire face hurt with the exertion required to keep a smile.

“Okay, everyone,” Charlie began. I was thinking, what better way to celebrate the grand opening of the newly refurbished hotel than by playing hide-and-seek?” She did a little twirl as she finished, trying vainly to excite her friends. 

Angel Dust raised his hand and, not waiting to be called on, asked, “How the hell does that follow?”

Undeterred, Charlie continued. “Hide and seek is a game that requires exploration! We put a lot of work into rebuilding this place, so we should try to enjoy it! Now, who would like to seek first…?”

A hunt. Oh, what luck that on such a poor day as that, Alastor could finally stretch his legs a little and do what he did best: scare the living daylights out of people! His smile widened, and his eyes squinted like a shark when blood was in the water. He stepped forward with perfect posture as always, resting his hand on his cane. “I would be delighted to!”

“No-” Both Lucifer and Husker had begun to protest, but Charlie clapped her hands with glee. Everyone knew she was just happy to have someone invested in her activities. 

“Perfect! Count to sixty, and then come look for us!”

“Oh, splendid.” The radio demon casually walked over to the wall, closing his eyes as if it mattered. Hands resting on his cane, he chuckled softly to himself. “One.” He heard silence behind him. “Two.” Again, he heard nobody move. 

‘They must not be taking this seriously,’ he thought. Gradually, the sound of radio static began to hum through the lobby as Alastor’s antlers grew larger. 

“Three.” Still nothing.

‘I won’t let them ruin this for me, not after today. Drastic measures, then,’ Alastor thought. He cleared his throat innocently. Then a deer call echoed around the room as he turned his head all the way around on his neck, eyes the shape of bright red dials and smile of sharp teeth impossibly wide.

“FOUR.” 

It had its intended effect. All of the hotel’s residents yelped various exclamations and expletives and took off in every direction, unsure if they were now hiding for their victory in the game or their lives. 

Alastor chuckled softly and turned back towards the wall, appearing normal again. He continued counting, interspacing the numbers with tunes he remembered from a past life, patting his cane to the rhythm. ‘I really should sing more often. It’s a shame I don’t often get the chance,’ he mumbled. Alastor knew he would find each hider eventually - after all, he had a lot of practice with hunting overlords - but Charlie had not mentioned a time limit, meaning he would take his sweet time to savor the silence and the hunt. When he finished counting, he decided to be a bit theatrical and sent a shockwave through the ground at the tap of his cane, instantly turning off every light in the hotel. He turned, smiled eagerly, and sank into the ground as a shadow, moving through the darkness like a cloud of smoke. ‘Now… who to look for first?’

-

Lucifer Morningstar, king of hell, didn’t realize how fast he was flying until about a minute after Alastor’s little scare. It upset him a little to discover how easily startled he had been, especially since he had easily beaten Adam, who had easily beaten Alastor. He sighed in annoyance as the lights above him went out, and to keep from flying into a wall, he flew to a stop, landing gracefully on the ground. With a subtle flap, his wings glowed softly, surrounding his hallway with a gentle golden light. He walked forward, not looking for a hiding spot. He had a feeling that that didn’t matter.

He suddenly felt a chill on his back. Lucifer whirled around, staring closely into the dark hallway behind him. Sensing no movement, he huffed and walked backward a bit, turning back around only to walk into the chest of the radio demon, letting out an indignant squawk.

“Ah, your highness! It seems you were the first to be found! You’re not very good at this, you know~!” Alastor said in that smug tone. 

“Well, Mr. What’s-His-Name,” Lucifer replied as he wiped off the front of his suit before confidently resting both hands on his apple cane. “I’ll have you know I’m only doing this to make my daughter happy. I don’t fear you, busboy.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed in determination. There was no way he was letting any of the other hotel residents come out on the other side of this activity willing to mess with him. That meant attitude-correcting. “You know I mean no disrespect, your highness!” he said, twirling his cane in one hand while adjusting his tie. “I simply had higher expectations of you!”

“As did I for you! I cannot believe my Charlie put her faith in you of all demons to keep her safe. You had one job, and you-” Lucifer stopped when Alastor sank into the shadows again, disappearing. “Typical.” The king began walking forward again, doing all that he could to give off the impression that he wasn’t scared, but all the effort in the universe couldn’t have held back the squeak that came to his lips when he felt a poke to his side. 

“Oh, my~! Someone’s a little on edge~!” came a delighted voice from the darkness. Lucifer growled in frustration and extended his wings to make the hallway as bright as daylight. Unfortunately, this is what Alastor intended, which Lucifer soon discovered when he felt claws scribbling in the pits of his wings, right on the sensitive area where they connected to his back. “Now, what an unfortunate weakness for royalty to possess~!”

Lucifer squealed, buckling over and landing on his knees on the floor. Alastor had suspected that the fallen angel was ticklish since Charlie was a walking tickle spot, but verifying it like this was nothing short of delicious for him. 

“Youhuhu- youhuhuhu lihihihittle-! Cuhuhut ihihit ouhuhut!” Lucifer’s strength had left him for some reason, and he found himself powerless to defend himself from the radio demon’s attack. Giggling like a child, he tried in vain to reach around behind him to swat away the attack, but this only opened him up more. Alastor’s claws zipped around and wriggled into his ribs, causing the king to let out an outrageously embarrassing squeal. He swung around to free himself, extending his wing to fling back the demon. It made no contact as he landed with a thump on his back, his hat tossed aside. 

“Ah, ah, ah~! I have to make sure you play the game better next time! After all, it’s only fair that there should be consequences for losing, especially being the first to lose!” From beneath him, hands grew from the floor to scribble into Lucifer’s wing pits again, making the fallen angel arch his back in surprise. 

“DahAhahahamn yoUhUhuhUuHU!” he laughed, kicking his feet a little. He reached back again to defend himself, only to be met by his apple cane, quickly used to pin his elbows to the floor with a yelp. 

“Fell for it again~! Tsk, tsk, your highness! We all must learn from our mistakes here at the Hazbin Hotel~!” Alastor suddenly materialized in front of him, leaning casually against his cane as he smugly observed the plight of the king of hell. 

“Yeah, well, you’re a-” Lucifer’s taunt was cut off by his shriek when shadowy hands grew from the ground to wriggle their fingers against his ribs. Alastor’s cooing was absolutely not helping, and it took everything in him not to whine when he felt the hands undo his coat and vest, leaving him in his plain undershirt. 

“There we are, now to teach you a lesson!” Alastor watched as his shadow hands continued their evil work, relishing every second of the king’s humiliation. He had ghostly digits wiggling against the ribs, scribbling in the wing pits, and he had just summoned two more hands to squeeze experimentally on the thighs, making Lucifer squeal like Angel’s pig. The fallen angel’s wings flapped on the floor, but his arms were pinned, keeping him firmly grounded. 

Alastor smirked and stepped forward, leaning down to wiggle a claw against the king’s belly. “You’re far too precious to act all tough, Your Highness! Don’t worry, I’ll let the others know about this discovery of mine~!” With that, he stood tall, straightened his suit, and turned to walk away, fading into the hallway’s darkness. 

“D-dohoHohn’t youhu fu-fuhuhuhCKING-!!” Lucifer couldn’t even get the words out as one final hand scribbled along his collarbone. He could do nothing but lie there on the hallway floor and laugh, hoping that Alastor would eventually have mercy. It might be a while before then since he was the first one found. Maybe he would have to put more effort into hiding next time… 

Read the next part here!

[gingerlee-holds]

OK SO!!! I had the cutest idea :3 Peter (one) and reader are either silly besties or dating or both :3 and they are both crazy tired drunk considering it’s past 3 am and because of all the silliness they get into a tword fight! (Possibly more Lee reader cause I feel like Peter would be feral when hyper and sleep deprived 🤣) and eventually Tony comes in and is like wtf is wrong with you two idiots?? GO TO BED!!! (Secretly loves seeing his kids all giggly and adorable :3 🥺❤️) and then they both end up crashing and getting sleepy but they are still a little giggly about some jokes/moments which leads to more tickles and it’s like sleepy cuddly giggly tickles 😭❤️ and then they both get supppperrrr sleepy and end up falling asleep in each others arms with smiles on their faces and tony comes back in cause he’s scared the children are dead 😂 and sees the adorableness and proceeds to post it to the avengers group chat and it ends in them waking up being like WHO THE FUCK TOOK A PICTURE OF US!? 🤣 (ok definitely mutal pining/idiots in love but they just don’t admit it yet 🥹)

okayokay so this was kinda just written with you in mind teddy xD i love ya and i hope you enjoy this silly lil fic!!

Feral

Words: 1,275 Pairing: Ler!Peter1, Lee!Reader Warnings: whoooole lotta fluff heehee

“Uno!” you called out. You grinned to yourself as you glared playfully over your final card at Peter, who had somehow collected fifteen cards throughout the game. His eyes squinted suspiciously as he hesitantly placed down the yellow three before he jolted backward in shock when you slammed down the red three, winning you the game.

“C’mon!” Peter fell sideways onto the carpet with a groan. “We’ve been doing this for five hours! How have I not been able to win even once?”

“I’m just too good!” You giggled as you playfully hit his shoulder. Looking over at the clock on the wall, you saw he was correct: it was past three in the morning, and not another soul was stirring in the entire Avengers tower. Both of you had been blinking sleep from your eyes for a while, but neither wanted to go to bed. Most of the other heroes had missions they were absent for, but the few still at the tower were fast asleep.

Peter yawned, bringing your attention back to him. It was so rare that you two spent so much time with each other. You missed the messy-haired hero a lot when he wasn’t around, and now that you two had the weekend mission-free, you were utterly adamant that you would make the most of it. You yawned, too. The stubbornness that made you such a valuable addition to the team was matched only by the spiderling. Grinning, you picked up the cards and began to reshuffle them.

“No, please, no more,” Peter whined sleepily, smiling despite his tone. “Can we play something else?”

“Like… Battleship? You know I’m always down to beat you again,” you giggled and stuck out your tongue. The two of you may have been on par with stubbornness, but you had him and everyone else soundly beat when it came to board games, to the degree that Tony insists you’re somehow cheating. 

“Absolutely not! I’d rather take a hive of wasps,” Peter grumbled, sitting back up with a huff. He hummed in thought before grinning. “I know a game we can play.” 

You tilted your head a bit, interested. “What did you have in mind?”

“Close your eyes for a second.”

Doing as you were told, you closed your eyes, sitting perfectly still and trying to guess what Peter was doing. Unfortunately for you, Peter was among the stealthier Avengers, something he demonstrated when you felt his hands grab you from behind, scribbling over your tummy. 

“We should have a tickle fight!” Peter giggled into your ear as you erupted into bubbly laughter. “This is a game I know I can win!” 

“YouhuhU LihIhihIttle ShihihIhihit! GehehEHet OhohohOFf!!” You kicked your feet, sending Uno cards flying all over the room. Peter wiggled his fingers up to your ribs, and your laughter kicked up a notch as you thrashed about in his grasp. 

“I’ll do no such thing! I’m stronger than you, little cutie!” 

Your face instantly began heating up. Whether or not the tease was intentional, it was extraordinarily flustering to hear from Peter Parker. You swatted at his hands as you squeaked, and, so experienced to losing tickle fights, Peter knowledgeably grabbed one of your wrists and held it up so he could scribble in the hollow of your underarm, making you shriek in surprise. 

Suddenly, you both heard the unmistakable sound of a middle-aged man clearing his throat in disapproval. Looking over, you both saw a very grumpy Tony Stark leaning against the doorway. 

The silence hung in the air for a while before Peter whispered, “You can almost see the smoke coming out of his ears,” and the two of you burst into hysterical giggles. 

Tony groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose in fond agitation. “I would ask what you two kids are doing awake this late at night, but I don’t want to know. Bedtime is now-time.” He pointed to the two twin beds in either corner of the room, then folded his arms over his chest. “You two have got to start going to bed on time.”

Peter giggled a little more, saying, “But that would be such a stark difference from what we usually do!” His pun made you both again dissolve into sleepy, senseless laughter. 

Sighing, Tony again cleared his throat. It was very obvious to all the other inhabitants of the tower that Tony utterly adored the two youngest members of the team. He was clearly struggling to speak seriously before the two giggly children on the carpet. “Peter,” he said firmly, giving him that look that the spiderling instantly took to mean he had reached the limit.

“Yes, Mr. Stark. Sorry, Mr. Stark. We’ll go to bed right away, Mr. Stark.”

Tony grinned wearily and nodded. “I’ll check back in half an hour. If you two aren’t asleep by then, I’m changing the Wifi password.” With that, he left and shut the door behind him.

It turns out the two young heroes didn’t even have the strength to make it into their beds. Still in a clingy mood from your tickles, you held onto Peter’s arm tightly, and both of you made a concerted effort to reach his bed, but in the end, collapsed onto Peter’s bean bag. You both yawned simultaneously, giggling about Peter’s bad jokes. 

The spiderling smiled, encouraged by your giggles. His hand slowly reached down and began tracing up your side. “The itsy bitsy spiderrrr…” Peter mumbled, slurring his words in exhaustion. 

You felt your face heating up again and scooted away from his hand, inadvertently snuggling closer to Peter. “Dohohohon’t!”

“Dohon’t what, cutie?”

Whining, you were too sleepy to squirm away as he continued gently tracing your sides. “Tihihickle meeee…” you mumbled.

“That’s what I’m doing, silly~!”

You huffed and buried your face in his shoulder. “Jeheherk!” Although you didn’t say so, the tickles were very relaxing, almost lulling you to sleep -more than almost. When his breath finally evened out to sleep, you didn’t stand a chance. Both of you were out like lights. 

Tony walked back in, expecting to deal with more patented Peter Snark. To his surprise, he saw the two little heroes tuckered out on the beanbag, holding each other tightly with big cozy smiles on both of their faces. Tony pressed a button on his glasses, taking a secret photo, before pulling it up on his phone to send to the official Avengers group chat, followed by a heart emoji. He yawned and shut the door behind him. Going to sleep sounded like a pretty good idea.

The chipper chirps of midday birdsong were interrupted by a shriek of embarrassment. “Wake up. Peterpeterpeter, wake the hell-!” You shoved at his shoulder frantically, not looking up from your phone.

The spiderling jolted awake, mumbling a Star Wars reference that was quickly cut off by a gasp when he looked at his phone. It was noon - they were supposed to be awake for combat training five hours ago! But that wasn’t the worst: the Avengers group chat had been active. He looked back through the messages, his face redder and redder as he read through the messages filled with the other Avengers gushing over the adorableness of the two young heroes. Peter finally reached a message from Tony, and upon seeing the image of the two of them snuggling together, he looked up, wide-eyed, at you. You looked at him right back. 

A heartbeat.

Cuties.

You both cleared your throats and stood, quickly running to prepare for training. However, you not-so-subtly saved the image to your camera roll, making you smile every time you saw it. 

[gingerlee-holds]

if it's ok with you I would love a part 3 of the letting of steam fics. i love the first two so far

oh of course!!!! thank you so much for the request heehee! i think there's gonna be one more chapter after this one before the story ends heehee, so if its requested ill begin working on that- i wanted alastor to be sweet with husker cuz husk's very clearly terrified of him so he's gentle with husk- anyways enjoy!! and thanku again for requesting <33333333

(also dont get mad but im not showing Angel's accent phonetically, that's just not my style so use your imagination)

Last Man Standing

Read the first one here! Read the previous one here!

Words: 1953 Pairing: Ler!Alastor, Lees!Niffty, Angel, and Husker Warnings: Alcohol and a panic attack, Angel being Angel, and also its unedited

Husker slightly trembled as he looked around. The radio demon could appear from any shadow, and Husk was never ready. The gambler hated that Alastor got to him so much, but he couldn’t help being afraid. That demon had his soul, and his grip on it was ceaseless. 

Mercifully, Husker wasn’t alone as he slunk through the hotel halls. He tightly held Angel Dust’s hand, who seemed completely unfazed by the situation. Behind them, trying to keep up, Niffty clapped her hands excitedly. Husker was at least glad she was enjoying herself. 

“Stay close, Niffty,” Husk looked behind him, motioning for the maid to hold his other hand. “You know how extra our boss can be.” He felt a little better holding their hands, but he knew that once Alastor tasted figurative blood in the water, it wouldn’t matter.

The shadow of the radio demon followed them down the dark hallway. Alastor may have been part-deer, but all that was going through his mind now was the instincts of a hunter. And if he wanted to be efficient about this - which he always did - he’d pick them off, one by one, starting with the weakest. 

Angel looked over. “Huskie, your hand is trembling. You afraid of the dark?” He said it with a light tone, but as soon as he saw the hotel bartender look back at him with eyes filled with terror, he softened. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll protect ya,” he said, affectionately rubbing Husker’s knuckle with his thumb. 

“And I’ll protect you, too!” Niffty giggled as she said it, squeezing Husker’s other hand.

Despite the fear, Husk grinned a little. “Thanks, you two,” he mumbled. He wrapped his tail around his waist like a hug, trying to level his breathing.

“Besides,” Angel continued, gesturing as he spoke, “I’m pretty sure Alastor’s just having fun with this. Nobody’s getting hurt. Just a little scared.”

“Cuz he’s a bad boy!” Niffty offered.

Angel snickered under his breath. “Yeah, sure. Besides, you’ve seen how agitated he looked this morning. He’s barely shown his face since the battle. Maybe he needs this.”

Niffty giggled again. “And when he finds us, he will tear our souls apart!”

Husker’s breath caught in his throat as he was reminded of Alastor’s threat. “What?!” 

“No, hun,” Angel chuckled and rubbed Husker’s shoulder. “She’s just fucking with you, Huskie. Our souls are fine.” He sighed a bit when he felt Husk tense up, silently wishing he could get some alone time with him to talk. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to wait for long. Angel spoke up again as they continued walking. “Niffty, no more jokes, got it?” 

Silence.

“Niffty?” Angel looked over, and Husker stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he held up his other hand for Angel to see: it was empty. “Niffty!” Both sinners looked around the hallway but found no trace of the neurotic little maid.

Husker’s breathing rate increased. “Oh, shit,” he whimpered. 

In an empty room, Alastor dropped Niffty on the bed, who was clapping enthusiastically. “You got me!”

The radio demon grinned and ruffled her hair. “That I did, little darling. I have two more targets, so I can’t tarry long, but I’ll leave you with this.” With a motion, Alastor summoned two tendrils, using one to hold up one of Niffty’s hands and the other to wiggle against her stomach. He fondly knew that it didn’t take much to unravel the little sinner, and as he predicted, she instantly began cackling like a lunatic. She was easy prey. “Now, don’t go anywhere!” Alastor giggled.

“YEhEHEheheHS SihIhIHihIR!” Niffty said through her laughter, giving him a salute. 

Husker was panicking. She was gone, and he was next. He heard Angel beside him, but his voice sounded distant.

“Maybe she just found a bug on the ground, hun! You know she loves cleaning pests.” Angel’s reasoning wasn’t heard as Husker began stumbling forward.

The radio demon momentarily opened the door just as Niffty uttered a loud shriek that echoed down the hall.

Angel stood straight upright, but before he could say anything, Husker took off like a shot, running as if his life depended on it. “No, Huskie, wait!” Angel ran after him, trying to keep up with the gambler. By the time Husker looked back again, the porn star was out of sight. Alastor got him, too. The bartender whimpered and took off running again.

“Alright, asshole!” Angel Dust yelped as he was unceremoniously pinned to a wall by Alastor’s magic. “First of all, how you’re holding me is all wrong. See, these hands over here are barely being held down at all. And you shouldn’t keep the arms completely stretched and extended like this; it’s always better to allow some give; that way, the muscles don’t get sore. Have you ever done this before?”

Alastor’s eye twitched in annoyance, but he took what Angel said into account and moved him a little. “An expert?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty much a pro regarding restraints. But secondly, and also most importantly, you’re scaring Husker. He’s having a panic attack, thanks to you.”

“I’ll attend to him shortly, don’t worry. As for you, my effeminate fellow, it’s time for your punishment after being found!”

“Do… do you hear yourself right now?” Angel raised an eyebrow. “That is some seriously kinky shit. I’ve heard that exact line a dozen times. It’s one of the classic amateur porn-writing lines. Like, you know what I’m gonna say to that, right?”

“Hm! Then don’t say anything,” the radio demon smiled wide. “Just laugh.”

“With the way you’re holding me down, I might just do thahAhahahahhat! WhaaHAt?!” Angel looked down and saw sets of claws extending from the wall, wriggling into his underarms.

“Four arms means four armpits! Now, excuse me,” Alastor turned and walked to the door. Angel Dust’s laugh was just as loud as his personality, and he wasn’t used to the gentle, teasy touch he was receiving. With a chuckle, Alastor left him to his tickling. 

Husker ran until he saw the bar, and with all the grace of a terrified cat, he leaped over the bar, knocking a bottle over, and curled up on the floor in a ball. He trembled and gripped his neck, practically feeling his chain tightening as the radio demon held his soul in a vice-like sadistic grip. 

Suddenly, Husker was jarred out of his thoughts by a single light turning on overhead. He held his breath and looked up to see enough light to fully illuminate the small bar. Then, there was a soft knocking on the countertop.

“I’d like a drink, please.” 

Husker peeked over the counter to see Alastor sitting on one of the barstools, legs crossed and hands neatly folded on his lap. His eyes were closed, and he smiled without teeth. He looked… completely unthreatening. “W-what?” the bartender asked, his voice still shaking. 

“A drink, friend.” Alastor’s voice was soft, almost soothing. Was he trying to comfort him?

“I- why?”

Alastor opened one eye. “Because I’m parched. Being a hunter is hard work, you know.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t know.” Husker glared at his boss. “What did you do to the others?” 

“They’re all having fun, don’t worry.” Alastor tapped the counter again. “Now, gin and tonic, please.”

“That’s… not your usual order.” Husker looked at the radio demon suspiciously. Husker’s favorite drink was a gin and tonic, so why was Alastor ordering it? Regardless, Husker began making the drink and served it to his guest in a large glass. 

“Thank you.” Alastor politely nodded before pouring half of the drink into another glass and passing it back to the bartender. “Here, have some.”

Husker looked down at the glass and then back up at Alastor. He didn’t seem to be manipulating him. It looked like Alastor was genuinely just trying to calm him down. Hesitantly, the gambler picked up the glass.

“You’ve won.” Alastor held up the glass. “A toast! You were the last one I found.”

Husk held up his glass and took a big sip. The alcohol warmed the back of his throat, and he felt all his muscles loosen up a bit. Sighing, Husk leaned against the countertop and looked up at Alastor. He was warmly smiling as he drank from his glass.

“You should have seen the look on Angel’s face, Husker. It was absolutely to die for!” The radio demon laughed as he set the glass down, and thanks to the gin, Husker found himself chuckling along with him. 

“I bet he made a sex joke, didn’t he?” 

Alastor nodded, and the two laughed together. 

After a few minutes, both were filled with warmth and laughing at nothing in particular. The radio demon wiped a tear from his eye and sighed happily. “Now, you get a reward for lasting the longest.”

Husker tilted his head, smiling lopsidedly in confusion, before he felt Alastor’s tendrils from behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. The shock of the touch quickly melted, and the gambler slowly laid his head on the counter. Smiling wide, he yawned like a cat, and his ears twitched. 

Alastor smiled and used one hand to rub his ear, and to his surprise, he heard a low purring sound coming from his bartender. He knew Husker was starved for touch, but he had no idea it was to this extent. He couldn’t help letting a small “Awww…” out, smiling fondly at the grumble Husk made in reply. The feline sinner swatted at the radio demon, and Alastor gently grabbed the offending hand, tracing the heart on Husker’s paw with a single claw. 

“H-heeheehehee… C-cuhuhuhut ihihit ouhuhut…” Husker began giggling but didn’t pull away from the touch. As Alastor continued administering his reward tickles, Husker never once moved, only letting out sleepy giggles.

“You are far too precious to be so scared, Husker.”

“Sh-shuhuhuhut ihihihihit…”

“No, I don’t think so.” Alastor wiggled the claw a bit faster, and Husk’s giggling mixed with his purring made for an extraordinarily adorable sound. Without stopping the massaging, ear rubs, or palm tickles, Alastor gently led Husker out from the bar to the oversized couch in the lobby and sat him down. With a start, the radio demon realized he was still tickling the others, and he quickly stopped all his magic, releasing Lucifer, Vaggie, Charlie, Niffty, and Angel from their tickly punishment. 

The other hotel residents slowly stumbled into the lobby, wiping tears from their eyes and rubbing their still-tingling spots. All had blushes on their faces, and none wanted to talk to the others after being so thoroughly wrecked. Lucifer was practically gasping for air as he shuffled in, and without a word, he sat down on the far end of the couch and instantly fell asleep. Next to him sat Charlie, and next to her sat Vaggie, and the two girlfriends snuggled close to each other. Niffty hopped onto the armrest and conked out faster than you could say ‘stab,’ and Angel crept in beside Husker to wrap his four arms around the sleeping bartender.

Alastor sat in his recliner, took a deep breath, and smiled as the other residents slept. Finally, the Hazbin Hotel was quiet, and he could get some rest. He was shockingly tired, and as he lay his head back against the seat, he grinned at the fun he had had today. He hoped he could do it again soon because, as far as he could tell, nobody else disliked it either. Although maybe he’d have to go easy on the theatrics with Husker. 

The other residents were plotting revenge against the radio demon as he slept. But that would come after everyone was awake. For now, the hotel slept.

[gingerlee-holds]

I would love another part of the letting of steam fic! :3

OH MY GOSH ITS MY FIRST REQUEST BATTLE STATIONS EVERYONE- thankyouthankyou so much for the request i love requests and i love you <3

Ler!Alastor and Lees!Charlie and Vaggie

A Rampage

Read the previous one here!

Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: Feet twords, barely any editing, and its sorta short

Alastor’s shadowy form snuck from hallway to hallway. To him, the game was no longer hide-and-seek but cat-and-mouse. He played with his food, tripping up the other residents, cackling distantly, and occasionally flickering the lights. He had decided to leave Lucifer in his little tickle trap until the game ended, but he was hungry for more. He had no idea that tickling could be so exhilarating! It was the perfect way to get energy out and feed his sadistic tendencies, all while not harming anyone! What could be better than that?

The radio demon’s subsequent targets were two floors below. The princess of hell lay under the bed of an empty room while the fallen angel was hidden in the closet. 

Charlie whispered to Vaggie, practically vibrating with excitement. “I can’t believe it! We’re all playing a game together! This is the first time everyone’s participated in an activity since Dad moved in. Can you believe it, Vaggie? I can’t believe it!”

“You said that already.” Vaggie’s hair stood on end. If Charlie hadn’t spoken first, she would have immediately denied Alastor’s request to be the hunter. If there’s anyone you wouldn’t want stalking people down, even in a nonviolent way, it’s the radio demon. Vaggie would never admit to anyone, much less herself, that she was afraid of Alastor and, more importantly, what he was capable of. Her hand rested on the shaft of her spear warily.

Charlie, by contrast, was far less afraid of Alastor than she should have been. The bedframe kept her from moving too much, but if she could, she would flap her hands and kick her feet. Her pride had been wounded by the death of one of her hotel residents just a week prior, and the fact that everyone was participating in this group activity gave her hope that maybe the future of the Hazbin Hotel was bright. 

“I can feel it, Vaggie! The group bonding exercises are paying off, and soon, this place will be absolutely crowded with sinners, all on the path to redemption!”

“Wacky nonsense, as Alastor puts it,” Vaggie whispered back, bringing the subject back to their problem. “We still don’t have a clue what happened in that fight he had with Adam. He had angelic weapons and the element of surprise, but he didn’t die. We don’t even know if Alastor confronted him at all. What if he just tucked tail and ran, leaving us to deal with Adam?” Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth, which felt cold and dark.

“Shhhhh~!” The quiet voice of the radio demon hushed. Vaggie held up her weapon, but before she could use it, she felt dark tendrils wrap around her arms, binding her hands to the shaft of her spear. The fallen angel yelled out curses into the palm over her mouth and struggled in Alastor’s grasp, but the radio demon simply pulled her up straight and hung her spear on a coat rack, leaving her suspended snugly and muted. “Now, watch the fun~!” 

Her eyes widened in horror as she looked through the slats in the closet door at her girlfriend under the bed. She couldn’t warn her!

Charlie sighed, oblivious as the silent fight in the closet continued. “Don’t be like that, Vaggie. I’m sure he did his best. Honestly, in hindsight, it was silly to entrust him with such a big responsibility. All of that’s in the past, though! And besides, Alastor’s never tried to harm us.” She waited for a minute for Vaggie’s response, and not hearing one, she whispered again, louder, “Vaggie?”

After still no response, she began to get a little nervous. She slowly crawled out from under the bed and approached the closet, knocking quietly. Vaggie’s muffled shouts were completely silenced. Charlie laid a hand on the doorknob but was suddenly yanked backward by her legs, sending her to the floor in a heap. She yelped in shock and looked behind her, seeing a shadowy face grin from the darkness under the bed, dark hands reaching out for her. “W-what??” She kicked at the arms, but they swiftly wrapped around her ankles and tugged her toward the bed. 

She was about to protest more. But she suddenly recognized the magic, and she began to laugh. “Alahastor! Hohow did you find me? My hihiding spot wahas so good!”

The radio demon’s voice seemed to come both from under the bed and from the closet: “Hence why I caught you the moment you stepped out from your hiding spot, princess!”

“Okahay, okahay! We were at least the last ones found, right?”

“Nope! I found you second. His Highness wasn’t even trying,” Alastor answered the question before Charlie could ask it. 

“Ugh, fihine. Lemme go, and you can continue hunting!”

“Hmmmmm… no deal!” Alastor’s staff, resting against a dresser, let out a laugh track, seemingly at his command. “I’m not just going to let you go, darling!”

“What? What do you mean?” Charlie asked, a bit of a quiver in her voice. Suddenly, two more hands extended from the darkness, with shadowy fingers wiggling in her direction. ‘No. No, no, he wouldn’t. There’s no way-!’ Charlie felt her face heat up, and her squirming increased in intensity. 

“Tell me, my charming demon belle, are you ticklish~?” Alastor’s voice got staticky when he said the word as he dragged it out playfully. Nervous giggles began bubbling from her lips as she remembered all the times she had been tickled as a child by her mother. Alastor should know very well how ticklish she is since Vaggie loved to sprinkle tickles into their daily routine. The fallen angel loved to unravel the usually anxious princess and let her happy squeals out, and everyone in the hotel knew that Charlie was an absolute fiend for tickles.

“A-Al, come on, let gohoHoho!” The hands reached forward and scribbled on the underside of her socks, making the princess melt into giggles. She rolled over onto her stomach and looked as the closet door slowly creaked open, showing Alastor leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, smiling impossibly wide. Beside him, Vaggie dangled by the arms, eyes wide and filled with mirth as Alastor’s tendrils squeezed her hips. The sight was utterly precious - Charlie didn’t even know her girlfriend was ticklish! And evidently, Vaggie’s body went limp when she was tickled. She wished she could hear her laugh, but it was completely muffled. Nevertheless, Charlie could coo about the adorableness after they were freed from the deer demon’s clutches.

The radio demon waved to the princess, and Charlie’s ankles were tugged harder. She tried kicking to no avail as she was slowly dragged under the bed, clawing at the floor and squealing for mercy from Alastor and help from Vaggie; neither came. 

When her lower body was entirely under the bed, Alastor got to work. With two hands on each foot, one for the sole and one for the toes, playing ‘this little piggy,’ Charlie instantly dissolved into hysterics. The princess banged her fists against the floor and thrashed as much as she could as her death spot was tactfully exploited, her shrieks and squeals filling the room. 

Alastor came forward, bending down on a knee to ruffle Charlie’s hair. “I’m afraid, my dear, that your hotel is horribly infested! Didn’t your parents ever teach you to always check for monsters under the bed~?”

Charlie snorted, hugging herself to contain her laughter, but it was impossible. It just tickled so so much! And everyone in the room knew that she was enjoying every moment of it. The squeaks she made when her knees were squeezed were so cute that it almost made Alastor want to be merciful. Almost. 

“Well, darlings, I’m afraid I must leave now to find the others. I must say, Charlie, I hope we play hide-and-seek again! It’s so dreadfully fun… for everyone involved~!” 

Vaggie wanted to shriek out a ‘Don’t you dare leave us,’ but she could only make hiccupy laughs as she dangled limply. The feeling was utterly alien to her, but strangely, she didn’t mind it. She could see why Charlie loved being tickled so much. As Alastor faded from the room into the shadows again, leaving the two girls to face their tickles, Vaggie was at least grateful that Alastor didn’t muffle Charlie. She could listen to that precious laugh all day.

[gingerlee-holds]

The Puppet Master, Part 2

The long, long awaited sequel! This one is brutal heehee so if you prefer gentle twords, read my other fics for that! But a very very flustered cutie has been waiting for this for a loooong time, and who am I to deny her what she needs heehee!! I hope you enjoy!!

Written for @featherfoxx, thank you to @devious-bliss for the inspiration!

Word Count: 2,953 Reading Time: About 12 minutes Warnings: hand restraints, feet twords, hard tickling, implied mind magic

Before we begin, keep in mind that this is a reader self-insert! Now, without further ado, let me tell you how exactly you were tworded to fucking bits heehee

All that night, you blushed and squirmed through tickly dreams. You awoke at multiple points throughout the early morning hours, curled up in a ball, blushing and sweating from a ruthless puppet master playing with your subconscious. No matter what you did to distract yourself, it seemed like that pesky little magician snuck back in to ensure you hadn’t forgotten how ticklish and vulnerable you were. Squirming around and holding your favorite stuffed animal over your bright red face, it felt like this had been intentional; that sneaky puppeteer had delicately wrapped your mind in her yarn, and ever since you had visited her, you felt that yarn occasionally pulled on, filling your head with flustering, tickly thoughts. You, of course, had no way of proving this - as it was most likely your imagination making it worse for yourself - but the idea that the ginger in the purple suit had somehow fiddled with your brain was enough to fill you with a playful determination.

After the third wake-up, still kind of feeling the fuzzy ears of a fox puppet around your collarbone, you were resolved. ‘That’s it! She’s not getting away with this!’ you thought to yourself. ‘I refuse to be her plaything!’ And having made up your mind to acquire retribution, you spent the rest of the night hatching a bold plan: you would catch her by surprise and give that pesky magician a taste of her own medicine!

After a night fraught with ghostly pokes and phantom scribbles, dawn came at last, and you arose with a fire in your soul, burning for vengeance. Quickly throwing on a band t-shirt and some jorts, you grabbed a makeup brush, a spool of your bright red yarn, a few fuzzy feathers, and - grinning evilly - a brand new electric toothbrush, setting it all into a backpack along with a few water bottles. You put on some sandals and set off toward the park. You were ready.

The carnival had just opened when you arrived, which, in a way, was much more amusing than you had anticipated. A yawning attendant gave you a bag of crackerjack for free, chuckling and saying he “can’t be bothered finding the receipt printer.” You almost burst out laughing when you saw someone in clown makeup scrolling through their phone while dressed in street clothes. The carnival in the morning reminded you of a college student - wild and carefree, partying with reckless abandon into the night, only to be rudely awakened the following morning to set it all up again. It’s no coincidence that the circus visiting your town was primarily staffed by college-aged folks.

Nevertheless, you soon found the tent you were looking for. The purple and green tent looked just as cozy as it had the night before, but the sign in front differed. It read: “The Puppet Master Returns Tonight @ 6! You won’t want to miss it!” Instead of being pulled invitingly open, the tent flaps were shut tight, except for a tiny bit at the bottom where the flaps had pulled apart slightly. ‘Perfect!’ you thought.

Crawling inside, you were surprised at how little the mood in the tent had changed. The lighting inside was cozy, as it had been last night, even though the sun was out. The sounds of birdsong outside faded, too, and if you didn’t know any better, you could even say that you had entered some kind of pocket dimension. No doubt some more of that magician’s trickery. Everything looked as it had: the plush floor, the stage, the curtains… but where was the Puppet Master?

Only one of the curtains was closed, but the other was still open, showing the stage. All of the puppets had been put away in a toy chest, and beside it, your target slept, snuggled to a pillow. The Puppet Master looked different; where she had been chubby before, now she was somewhat skinnier. Her hair was longer and messier, but that was most likely the fault of her sleep. Instead of her suit, she wore a pair of fuzzy pajamas and socks and a cartoonish nightcap drooped over her head. A snorer, too, you observed as you approached. The pillow was less to support her and more to give her something to hold onto, and she cuddled it close. She almost looked too cute to tickle, but you knew your mission. 

‘It’s too easy,’ you said to yourself, holding onto the straps of your backpack and beginning to approach the stage confidently. You made it about halfway before shenanigans struck. 

The plush, comfy floor you walked on seemed to provide less and less support as you went on, each step sinking you deeper into the softness beneath. Once you were halfway, you had sunk into the plushness up to your waist, and, grumbling, you pulled yourself forward. Instead of a mattress, this plushness reminded you of a foam pit, and after a few more steps, you were completely stuck. The surrounding plush floor held you snugly up to your chest, and much to your dismay, it had now become too difficult to pull yourself out. Moreover, you quickly discovered that you couldn’t pull back either: you were stuck in the comfy, foamlike, plush floor, conformed to your body shape entirely. 

“The hell is this!” you muttered out loud by mistake. Unfortunately for you, the Puppet Master softly snorted as she awoke, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She reached over, picked up a pair of round glasses, scratched her head, and stood up to see her intruder. 

The sight of you, frustrated with the floor and confused at your predicament, sent her into hysterics. “Heeheeheeheehee! Ohohooh, dehehearrr!!” she laughed, hugging herself around her belly. “I-ihihihit seeeheeheems- heehehehehee!! - thahat sohomeone was a lihittle eager to return~!!”

Growling in humiliation, you hung your head to hide your face. The element of surprise had been entirely lost!

The sleepy girl before you padded over softly on her fuzzy socks, hopping off the stage and onto the plush floor, which didn’t sink under her as it did for you. Giggling helplessly at your condition, she laid down in front of you on her stomach, swinging her feet in the air behind her as she booped your nose. “Hey there again, cutie pie! Missed me that much~?” 

You said nothing, doing your best to retain your dignity.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me, huh~?” You suddenly looked up at her. She smiled as if she had known what your night had been like for you. Giggling at your shocked face, she continued, “Oh, you’re too precious. Don’t worry, hun! It’s only natural!” She reached over and ruffled your hair. “Anyone who needs this place finds it! That way, I can play with only the people I know will enjoy it as much as I do!” The Puppet Master suddenly tugged the air in front of your forehead, and all at once, your mind rushed with tickly thoughts and teases, all the memories of yesterday pushing forward and coloring your cheeks a bright red. It was her all along!

As you racked your mind trying to make sense of this information, you were interrupted by a sudden stream of bubbly giggles emerging from your throat. The Puppet Master’s head-scratching reached your neck, and her nails gently traced around and around. She smiled fondly, her whole expression painted with affection at your adorable glee.

“Now, let’s see whatcha brought! I’m super curious!” She crawled around behind you and sat, happily picking up your backpack.

“No, no! Don’t look in there!” you hastily said, but she had already unzipped it and was looking through its items. 

“Oh! New yarn, looks like! And… feathers? Is that a makeup brush…? Hmm…” She went silent for a bit, and you jumped when you suddenly heard her voice right in your ear: “Trying to get revenge, huh~?” she purred. “How absolutely adorable you humans are, thinking you can outsmart me~!”

Well, that cleared a lot up. She wasn’t human! That’s how she had all that power! What was she??

“Hey!” Her snapping her fingers in each ear brought your attention back. “Got a question for ya!” Pulling your bag of tools behind her, she crawled back to where you could see her. “Have you ever heard of Cat’s Cradle?”

Tilting your head a bit in confusion, you nodded. “Yeah, it’s that kids game with the string.” 

“Y’ever played?”

“Few times, while ago.”

She clapped her hands happily. “Perfect!” she exclaimed. The magician pulled out your red yarn from the bag but, to your shock, pulled out an identical spool of pink yarn after it. She unspooled a long string of each and cut it with a simple tug. “Okay, here’s yours!” she said, handing you your red yarn while she held the pink one. “Watch me. Try to follow along.”

Seeing as you didn’t have anything else to do, you sighed and tried your best to follow along as she skillfully began creating the Cat’s Cradle. She giggled a tiny bit when she finished, setting her yarn down to help you out by tugging the yarn here and moving your fingers there. In the end, you held a rather complex and beautifully made string figure between your fingers!

“Bravo! Oh, you’re remarkable at this!” She clapped again, making you smile sheepishly. However, it didn’t take you long before you realized you couldn’t untangle your hands from the yarn. Harder and harder you tugged, but your fingers were very well tied, your hands bound by the pretty Cradle. “Oop, here, let me help you with that…” she muttered, taking one of the ends of your yarn and giving it a gentle tug, and all at once, your hands clapped together, bound tight. “There! Now c’mon, cutie, let’s getcha out of my floor.”

Blushing at the realization that the game had been a ruse, you let yourself get tugged out from the floor by your yarned-up hands, feeling the ground become more and more firm underneath you. “T-that was a nasty trick!” you whined.

“Oh, you should have seen it coming a mile away. I’m a Puppet Master! Nimble fingers come with the job~,” she teased as she wiggled her fingers against your cheeks, making you sputter. Gently, her soft hands guided you to the floor so you were lying down on your back before she effortlessly grabbed your bound hands and moved them above your head, saying, as if it were an afterthought, “These can’t move now.” It shouldn’t have surprised you, but you were a bit bewildered by the fact that she was correct: you couldn’t pull your hands down as much as you tried. 

She suddenly gasped as she got an idea. “I know another game we can play! It’s called, how long can my ticklish little puppet stay silent while I tickle them!”

“T-that sounds like a terrible game!” you spat, and she patted your head in response.

“I don’t know… you did intrude on me while I was sleeping, so I think that deserves a little punishment~! Then again, maybe it’ll be a reward since I know you’ll enjoy it so, so much~!”

Before you could voice any more criticisms, you yelped in surprise when she pulled out all your tools and set them before you. 

“Hm… I can’t hold all of these at once… I know! I’ll need help!” She whistled, and the toy chest sprung open, a group of five puppets rushing through the air to her. “Here, Wolf, you can hold the makeup brush, and I’m trusting you two to hold these!” she said, handing the two extra-fluffy feathers to Lion and Cat. She removed the electric toothbrush as if she were holding a precious relic. “This one’s mine~!”

You didn’t even have time to say, “Wait-!” before it started~!

The two puppets with no tools, Snake and Owl, dove in first. Owl, all covered in fuzzy feathers, nuzzled into your neck, chin, and ears, hooting and cooing at you. “Whooooo’s a ticklish puppet! Whooooo’s a cutie patootie! Who? Who?” she asked, snuggling her soft felt beak into your ear. All by herself, Owl was sending you into squeaky, blushy laughter, but don’t worry, it would get a lot worse! <3

Snake, meanwhile, had slithered his sneaky way under your shirt, nudging your shorts down a bit to reveal your hips. “Sssssssscore~!!!” he victoriously said as he wound his way around and around like a belt, his surprisingly tickly underbelly making you jump and buck around. Besides the occasional hiss as his felt tongue flickered across your lower tummy, he stayed silent as he pulled wave after wave of laughs out from your lungs.

The Puppet Master sat, smiling and watching you being slowly picked apart so adorably by her cute little puppets. She was content to wait until you began getting used to the current tickles before ramping them up. After all, she had until six before her next show, so she was content to make you pay for your impudent intrusion!

Wolf’s patience wore out first, and after a lengthy squeal on your part when Snake dipped his head into your belly button, he growled and dove in, armed and ready with the makeup brush. The Puppet Master chuckled and pulled your shirt up to your ribs for him. Quickly swatting the reptilian puppet out of the way with the brush, he dipped it into your giggle button and swirling it around and around your tummy. He looked up and grinned happily at the results: deep belly laughter erupted from Mt. You, bouncing about the tent like a rubber ball, much to the amusement of the Puppet Master, who began giggling with you. To celebrate, Wolf started to nibble around your ribs while continuing to paint with the makeup brush. 

Lion and Cat, wielding their feathers like knights holding their swords, looked up at the puppeteer pleadingly, happily cheering when she nodded as their sign of permission. The two puppets flew down and began happily humming a circus tune as they started going to town on your sides. Cat, soft and sweet, hummed innocently as she wiggled the fuzzy feather up and down your right side, up and down, mercilessly rhythmic. Lion, by contrast, was anything but sweet as she giggled cruelly, turning the feather around to the pointy tip and, using it like a quill pen, began writing and scribbling over your left side. It was brutal! You thrashed away from the mean scribbles and pokes, only to be met by gentle feather strokes and wiggles! You were already shrieking through your laughter, yelping with glee, and unable to beg for mercy anymore. At around the twenty-minute mark, the Puppet Master herself made her move. 

You had absolutely no way to pay attention to what she was doing, so no alarm bells went off when she began crawling down to your feet and pulling off your sandals, but you could only go bug-eyed and squeal when you heard the unmistakable sound of the electric toothbrush turning on. Your thrashing increased a bit, but the other puppets made sure you were far too weak to put up any significant resistance. The Puppet Master smiled at you with pitiless satisfaction and adoring affection as she used the toothbrush under your toes on your right foot, scribbling across your left sole with her nails. That was the final straw for you. Tears rolled down your cheeks in rivers as you lay limply, unable to do anything but sit there and take your tickles like a good puppet. Your laughter had gone silent a while ago. Yet, this time, the puppets were out for metaphorical blood as they wrecked your spots creatively, curiously, and mercilessly. 

The second you began coughing, though, everything stopped. All the puppets dropped to the floor, inanimate once more, and the Puppet Master sprang up to get some water from your bag. She put the bottle to your lips, and you gulped it down eagerly, smiling at the relief it gave. She brought your hands back down again, and suddenly, you found that the strings fell apart, sloughing off your hands and allowing you to free yourself from the tangle with ease. Curling up into a ball, you finished your water, and the Puppet Master finished her water shortly after. 

“You feeling okay, cutie~?” 

“Y-yyeheheesss! G-gohohoshh…” 

“Didn’t think I’d go that far, didja~? I’m just a sweet, innocent girl, huh~? Not when you wake me up before I’ve finished my sleep!”

“S-sohohohorryy!!”

“Oh, don’t worry! This was such a pleasant wake-up ~!” With that, she quickly scooped you up in her arms, carrying you across the room and onto the stage, laying you down beside her. “Now, I think we could both use the sleep, right~? You must not have slept well, I’m guessing~!”

You nodded, all the sleepiness hitting you like a freight train as you yawned and got comfy on the floor. 

“Figures~!” She yawned, too, and wiggled over to you. “Besides, it’ll be nice to have something other than a pillow to spoon.”

The two of you were out like an identical pair of lights, you being snuggled by the petite magician. No dreams bothered you in your sleep as you floated in the void sea of the subconscious mind. What would await you when you awoke was no concern of yours because, for now, you were comfy, exhausted, and being snuggled by an adorably sweet… whatever she is. You’ll figure that out later. For all your life afterward, you would never recall a more peaceful slumber than on the floor of that tent, cradled like a cat by an adoring and tickle-hungry Puppet Master!

The end ~!

Read the previous entry in The Puppet Master!

[gingerlee-holds]

Viper's Venom

The info for this fic is here! TLDR: this is my Squealing Santa for @angelatmidnight1! It was very fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Goodness, I hope I haven't forgotten something-!

Word Count: 2,193 Reading Time: ~17 minutes Warnings: Mentions of death, tickling Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader (Implied romantic)

"Fresh blood oranges, right from the tree!" Y/N Sand shouted. The announcement of goods and their prices, along with many other varieties of speech, filled the Dornish bazaar, which made it very hard to hear oneself think. Luckily, Y/N has spent the last decade of their life training their craft in this place, selling their family's blood oranges and making a lot of money from it, too. 

Sunspear, the capital of Dorne, with its warm climate and scent of fiery peppers, always brought peace of mind to Y/N. They wore an orange robe to match the fruit they sold, with a golden necklace around their neck that glittered like the sun. They always loved it when the wind blew through the market because the sweet smell of her blood oranges could travel far.

A man in a yellow cloak appeared in the crowd, whose saunter caught Y/N's attention. He approached the stall, picking up an orange and inspecting it closely.

"This is fine fruit," he said, more to himself than the seller. 

Y/N smiled at such an opportunity landing in front of them. "You have a good eye! These are among the finest blood oranges in Dorne. Can't be beaten within a hundred miles around by the gods!" 

He looked up from the orange in his hand to look at Y/N thoughtfully. "I have had enough of blood for a while." His accent was distinctly Dornish, his face was sharp, and his eyes were piercing. "In short, I am not interested in your wares."

"I'm sorry to hear that, friend. Another day, perhaps!"

The man leaned over the counter. "I never said I was leaving," he said softly. A tense minute of silence followed as each studied the other's face. Finally, the man smiled, mumbling, "You are a Sand."

A blush of embarrassment crept up Y/N's face at the mention of their low birth. "You have a better eye than I thought," they said, trying to keep a grin on their face.

"Oh, do not be ashamed, sweet thing. Sands are my favorite." He smiled with all his teeth. "My absolute favorite."

Finally, a flash of recognition came across Y/N's face as they realized the man's identity. "You're Oberyn Martell- Prince Oberyn Martell!"

"I am, yes. And you are?"

"Y/N Sand. I'm glad to see you're doing okay. You didn't announce your arrival?"

"I do not like entourages." 

"Then why have you come here? Were you seeking to find something?"

"I was seeking to find someone, and now I have."

"We were all worried when you heard you were fighting in the trial by combat, especially for the Imp. How did you-"

The prince quickly put a hand to Y/N's lips. "Shhhh, sh, sh. Enough talk. Would you like a visit to the Water Gardens?"

"Your palace? I could find the time." Y/N smiled shyly, touching their necklace. 

Prince Oberyn smiled with his teeth again, holding Y/N's hand as he led them away from the busy market. 

As they walked together through the streets, Y/N continued asking questions, keeping their hand on their necklace the whole time.

"So, how did you win?"

"Hm? Against Gregor Clegane?"

"That brute. The Mountain that Rides. I heard he was nine feet tall!"

Oberyn chuckled. "Closer to eight, by my estimate." Another silence followed. "I poisoned my blade. That is all I need to say about that."

Y/N touched their necklace again.

"Why do you keep doing that? Your necklace."

"Ah, it was given to me by a handsome merchant a few years back for my help with some errands. He said it made me more attractive, something about magic."

Oberyn brushed a lock of Y/N's hair behind their ear. "I don't know about magic, but you have plenty of good looks without a necklace."

The fruit seller blushed and looked away, making the prince laugh. 

-

As the pair entered through the gates of the Water Gardens, the sound of raucous laughter fluttered through the air. The artificial pools and rivers before them were filled with splashing and play. 

"Children. My brother adores the sound. Come, let us go to a more sequestered location." Still holding their hand, Oberyn led through a courtyard. Through another, finally ending in a smaller, more sheltered area with an orange tree in the corner, casting the spot in a warm shade and a minor waterfall feature forming a little brook that trickled through the grass. 

"It's beautiful." Y/N stepped through the grass, smiling at the cool breeze and the shade of the orange tree.

"I have come here many times with many people." Oberyn walked forward with his usual strut, taking off his cloak and setting it on a bench. He wore a bronze-colored tunic underneath.

"This is an honor, my prince. I-" Their statement was cut off by Oberyn's laugh again. 

"Have you ever spoken to a prince?"

Y/N huffed and looked down at the grass. Suddenly, two of Prince Oberyn's fingers tilted their chin to look him in the eye. "I am asking you a question."

The action made Y/N blush. "I'm a bit out of practice." They liked his laugh. It was rich and infectious, filling any room he was in. 

"You will learn again. For now, though, here." With that, he gently sat Y/N down against the tree on the grass. "You are as delicate as a flower. I mustn't be rough with you." Again, he spoke more to himself than Y/N.

"May I ask why you brought me here?"

"You may."

A brief silence followed before Y/N, giggling, said, "Why did you bring me here?"

"Such a lovely laugh. I brought you here because I've spent the past week on the road, traveling through the desert wastes, all hoping to get home and spend the day with a pretty little dove. I am home, have found a pretty little dove, and am perfectly satisfied."

"Are you this flirtatious with everyone you meet?"

"You must know enough about me to know I am - not to suggest you do not deserve every word." He sat down beside Y/N, facing them. "Take your sandals off, you silly dove. How often have you felt grass between your toes?"

Giggling again, Y/N removed their sandals, smiling at the sensation of the cool earth under them. "You're very sweet despite everything your reputation makes you out to be."

"The infamous Red Viper of Dorne, sweet? This is new."

Y/N grinned cheekily, boldly saying, "You're not a viper; you're a milk snake." 

Oberyn's eyes widened in surprise, staring at Y/N. "Would you like to repeat that, little dove?"

Summoning every ounce of courage, Y/N stuck out their tongue. "A milk snake!" they said with a laugh, which turned into a yelp when they saw Oberyn move toward them. Y/N jumped to their feet, backing away.

The prince stood as well, smiling. "Oh, no, no, no! You cannot leave now! You have committed a reprehensible wrong against my name! I must have my justice, you know."

"W-wait, just stay away. I didn't mean it!"

"But you said it all the same. I am afraid I cannot have you leaving to tell everyone Prince Oberyn is the Milk Snake of Dorne, now can I?"

"I'm sorry! You're a viper, a vicious red viper!"

"And I'll make sure you remember that!" With those words, the prince lunged toward missing Y/N by a hair as they ran, leaping over the brook, laughing as they looked behind them to see a very evil-looking Oberyn at their heel. Y/N ran from the courtyard into a hallway, dodging down halls and around corners, hoping to lose the prince in the maze. 

They turned a final corner, and ahead, they saw a pretty courtyard with an orange tree and a waterfall feature. Before they could think, they ran right into Oberyn's arms, scooped right off their feet as he carried them bridal-style back to the shade of the tree.

"My little dove returned at last to face their punishment! How noble and brave you must be!" Oberyn kissed Y/N on the brow, setting them on the grass. "If you try to escape again, it will only worsen for you."

Y/N Sand nodded, keeping their mouth shut.

"Good! I would punish you now, but I have chosen a different approach. I will let the gods decide your fate. I demand a trial by combat."

"What! C-combat?!"

Oberyn stood a few paces away, grinning playfully. "To your feet, my dove." Y/N jumped up, and the prince rushed forward, ducking under Y/N's arms and knocking their legs out from under them. Flat on their back, Oberyn straddled their waist. "You are not very good at this."

"Noho, I'm not! Now let me up! You've made your point."

"I have not won yet!" Y/N felt a hand slide inside their robe, gently squeezing a spot just above their hip, and they began squealing. "A squealer! I should have guessed!"

"H-hehehey! Nohohohow wahahhait juhuhust a mihihinute!" 

"I will do no such thing! I must clear my name in the sight of gods and men!" Oberyn's fingers danced expertly, precisely finding every ticklish spot on his poor victim. 

Y/N squirmed and laughed uncontrollably, their protests lost in powerless laughter. "T-tihihihickling! Thihihis ihihis ridihihihihiculous!!!" 

The prince's nimble fingers moved to Y/N's sides, squeezing like a baker kneading bread. "I will tell you what is ridiculous, my dove. Insulting the name of a prince in his palace while being so very ticklish. I cannot imagine what would bring a silly little dove like yourself to such absurdity."

The teasing elicited more squeaky giggles from the poor merchant, who kicked their legs helplessly. Oberyn's hands moved up to Y/N's ribcage, wriggling over each little rib. 

"So many vital organs in here. Maybe if I wriggle my fingers here enough, I can tickle them, too. Do you hear that, little dove? I think your heart wants to be tickled as well! Nobody wants to be left out, right?"

"THihiHIHihis ihIhIHis CruhUhuhUel! StoHoHHop TehehHEheheasing!" 

"Cruel? That is a title I will not deny. Now, I must get a confession out of you, dove! Did you insult my name?" Oberyn smiled with his teeth again, genuinely pleased by the adorable sight before him. "Come on, sweet one, say it." His hands moved up finally to Y/N's neck, scribbling around. 

"OohOHOhohoberyn!! MeheheEHhehercyyhyy!!!" Y/N squealed.

"I'll give you mercy! You must first confess! Did you insult my name, yes or no?" 

"Ihihihi cohohonfehehess toho nohohothing!"

"A bratty little dove you are. Fine then! Feel the bite of the viper!" With that, he curled his pointer and middle fingers to look like snake fangs and drilled them into Y/N's sides, eliciting a defeated shriek from the small merchant. 

"FUHUHUHUCK!! GEHEHET OHOFFA MEHEHEHEHEEE!!!"

"You should be feeling my venom coursing through your veins by now. Rather potent, I'm afraid. Is it making you feel all squirmy and blushy? I think I can see it taking effect!" 

"YOUHUHU'RE SUHUHUHUCH A JEHEHEHERK!!! CUHUHUHUT IHIHIHIT OUHUHUT!!!" Y/N was in hysterics, writhing and cackling.

Surprisingly, Oberyn stopped, leaning back with a smug expression. "Will you confess? Confess, and I'll send you to the Wall! I do not want to kill you, you know!" 

Despite every single brain cell screaming at them not to make things worse for themselves, Y/N giggled and said, "You're such a milk snake, hisssssEEEHEEHEEEEK!!!"

Their cheeky hissing was cut off by more 'viper bites' before Oberyn turned around. "Very well! I, Prince Oberyn Martell, sentence you to death by tickling!" he giggled, keeping Y/N's feet pinned. "I knew I made the right call by telling you to take off those sandals."

"N-noHohohoho! Wait, wait, hold on! Can't we negotiate a pardon?"

"Absolutely not, my dove! Justice is a significant thing to me, you should know. Now, I hope you aren't ticklish here, for your sake."

Unfortunately, Y/N was very ticklish there, which Oberyn quickly learned once he began scribbling around on their soles. The prince's fingers explored every inch of Y/N's feet, marking each spot. However, when he got to the toes, Y/N's laughter turned silent, a sign it was time to stop. 

Oberyn got up, quite pleased with himself, and sat under the orange tree. Y/N regained their breath and looked up at him, a blush and a giddy smile plastered on their face. They crawled up next to him and wrapped an arm around his torso. "Monster," they spat playfully. 

"Careful, dove," he chuckled, wiggling his fingers again, making the merchant bury their face in his chest. "Get some rest. From my experience, trials are entirely exhausting." He yawned to prove his point. 

"Ihihit wasn't your trial!" 

"I've never been on trial. Well, except for that one time." He chuckled, rubbing Y/N's back. "A story for another time. For now, though, rest. I promise you will not find a more peaceful place than this in a thousand summers." 

Oberyn was right. It didn't take long for Y/N's eyes to begin drooping. Little by little, they fell asleep, a smile still on their face, cuddled into the arms of what must be the most charming prince in Westeros in the shade of an orange tree.

[gingerlee-holds]

Tinkering Hearts

This is a birthday fic for @cxra-melty! It's a Splatoon tword fic about lesbians lesbianing all over the place lmao- DISCLAIMER: i have never played splatoon nor do i know anything about it so if i get something wrong, lemme know!!

Word Count: 2,028 Reading Time: about 8 minutes Warnings: none that i can think of!! enjoy!!

The evening was Marina's favorite time of day since it's among the few times in Inkopolis when it's quiet. All the little critters settled down to sleep, but the sun still bathed the earth. Warm streams of light flowed into her studio, seemingly transforming the rather plain skyrise apartment into the inky aftermath of a turf war, awash with vibrant oranges, pinks, and yellows. The scent of grease that usually filled the studio was, at her girlfriend's strongly worded request, replaced mainly by a citrusy aroma, courtesy of an air freshener of her own design.

Marina Ida leaned back in her desk chair, smiling as she set down her screwdriver. Wiping her hands on her apron, the mechanically adept Octoling sighed in contentment at seeing her new invention: a speaker with a 23% longer battery life, petitioned by her girlfriend for her characteristically prolonged singing sessions in the shower. Marina's personal speaker, her 'precious baby,' sat on a bookcase next to the door, playing her mellow vaporwave beats while she worked. Swiveling slightly in her chair, she gazed out the large windows of her tinkering studio. She had always counted herself incredibly lucky to live in an apartment like this one, with a tremendously gorgeous view of the sunset. 

'It's so pretty,' Marina thought to herself. 'The setting sun gives the undersides of those clouds a beautiful pink color, like cotton candy. Like bubble gum. Like…' She suddenly looked down, feeling her face warm up a bit. 'Like Pearl.'

Marina heard a loud groan from her girlfriend, Pearl Houzuki, as if on cue. Turning again in her chair, she smiled at the mess of a girl crashed on her couch, lounging, as she often did, to periodically pester Marina while she worked. Today, though, Pearl had kept mostly silent as she lay on the sofa, idly kicking her feet behind her as she played on her phone, the nightcore blaring from her headphones only barely audible from across the room. However, the Inkling was face-down on the cushions, shamefully holding up her phone as she removed her headphones.

"'s dead," Pearl mumbled, making the Octoling smile fondly. 

"Well, I did recommend you bring a charger in with you a few-" Marina stopped her 'told you so' when she broke into giggles at the sight of the death glare her girlfriend gave in reply. The pouting Pearl huffed and rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling as Marina returned to her desk. Her next project was to begin right away, so without wasting any time, she opened her drawer and pulled out the sketches for a marginally more efficient Splattershot. 

It took less than a minute for Pearl to become restless. 

"I'm boreddd…" she grumbled. 

Marina chuckled. "Go charge your phone, then, silly squid. I also have those graphic novels you like somewhere on the shelf." She gestured vaguely toward one of her bookshelves without looking away from her work. As she focused back on the task before her, she failed to hear her girlfriend slowly rise from the sofa and sneak across the room, muffled by her fuzzy socks and the carpeted floor. Just as Marina put the tip of her pencil to the page, a rapid, simultaneous poke to each side elicited a squeaky yelp, making her hand shoot back to protect herself.

The Octoling whirled around, trying her best to glare at her adorable girlfriend's smug smirk, unable to suppress the smile on her face. 

"There is one rule in this studio! One! I know you can count to one!" Vainly trying to sound authoritative, Marina ended up sputtering out her warning. She accidentally drew a sharp, dark line across her page with her pencil.

Pearl giggled and innocently rocked on her heels. "You know I'm garbage at math. But hey, you can't blame me! Golden hour makes your skin look even prettier than normal! I was just checking that you were real and not some sort of hologram!"

The clever Inkling's flirt had its intended effect: Marina lost her entire train of thought as her face heated up like an overclocked CPU without a cooling fan. Instead of playfully scolding Pearl about the sacred 'No Shenanigans' rule of her tinkering studio, Marina hid her face behind her tentacles and let out what she intended to be a growl but became a flustered whine. Pearl waited patiently for her girlfriend to regain her composure, smiling from ear to ear.

"Y-you know that I haven't been able to build one of those yet-!" It was a lazy rebuttal born from her genuine vexation with holographic devices.

Pearl hummed, tapping her chin. "Well, you can never be too sure! I'm not worried, though, cuz I have a surefire method of proving you're my Marina~!" At that, she teasingly wiggled her fingers at the poor Octoling. "My little Marina is deathly ticklish~!"

Pearl's 'little' Marina leaped to her feet with a squeak, standing two full heads taller than her girlfriend. A determined expression entirely replaced her flustered countenance. "G-glass houses, babe! I know for a fact that you, of all people, shouldn't be throwing out accusations of ticklishness since you're a walking tickle spot!"

The smaller girl stammered, her cheeks turning as pink as the tips of her tentacles. "B-bullshit!" 

"Ooo, strong words from such a wittle Squid~! Are you gonna pout me to death~? Or do I have to ticklEEEK-!" Marina's cocky taunting was interrupted by about 100 pounds of Inkling suddenly slamming into her torso, almost bringing the tinkerer to the ground. Thankfully for her knees, Marina managed to get turned about, letting herself be pushed across the room and onto the couch by her growling girlfriend.

"You," Pearl huffed, now that she pinned the Octoling, "deserve every friggin' second of what you're about to get!" 

Before Marina could reply, a wave of giggly laughter poured out from her lungs as Pearl began scribbling up and down her sides. "NohOhoHO!!" was all she could get out as Pearl's nimble fingers skittered and poked each inch of skin from her hip to her ribs. 

"If anything," the Inkling said over her girlfriend's laughter, "this is your fault! I mean, for such a clever girl, it's awfully silly to keep one of your most ticklish spots so exposed like this~! Not that I'm complaining, though - makes it sooooo much easier for me to tickle the shit outta you!"

“ShuUHuHUhUT UhuHUHUHUP!!!” Marina cackled, kicking her feet. She brought one arm over her eyes while the other wrestled with Pearl's surprisingly agile hands. 

"Oh, believe me, I've been shut up for the past few hours! Gotta get this energy out somehow!"

Marina bucked, desperately trying to squirm out of reach or pry her girlfriend off, but Pearl was stuck to her like a mussel, mercilessly exploiting the Octoling's ticklishness. 

"PleHEhEHehheASe!!! PeHEhEhehHEARL, IhihhIhI’M BEHEEHEHEGGING!!” Marina threw her head back when Pearl began drilling her fingers into her hips. Her pleas, however, made Pearl slow down her tickling just enough for Marina to launch her counterattack.

Marina's hands shot down past Pearl's, landing on her thighs in one swift motion. The Inkling's eyes widened with shock for a moment before she was sent into peals of ticklish gleeful laughter from Marina's squeezes. She fell onto her back, hugging herself around the middle. The tinkerer took her chance, pulling herself upward to continue her onslaught. 

The mellow vaporwave from her speaker was drowned out by a different sort of music, which Marina enjoyed far more: the snorts and hiccups of her beloved bratty squid when her thighs were squeezed. Pearl waved her arms around like an inflatable tube man, giving Marina access to her underarms. Scribbling in each underarm, Marina had successfully invented liquid cuteness.

Nevertheless, despite her thrashing around like a fish on land and babbling through her hiccupy laughter, Pearl had concocted the perfect scheme. When Marina stopped for a moment to readjust her position, Pearl leaped upward and wrapped her arms around Marina's torso, planting her face in her girlfriend's exposed belly. Paying no heed to the panicky warnings, the smaller girl deposited a big, wriggly raspberry, transforming the tall attacker back into a cackling girl, unable to hold back the mountain of melodic laughter. Pearl, determined to get revenge and with her competitive streak shining bright, resolved to continue raspberrying Marina's belly button until the latter had no more laughter left in her. However, true to form, she made one vital miscalculation: she hadn't removed her girlfriend's hands from under her arms. 

She was immediately aware of this flaw in her plan before delivering a second attack when Marina resumed wiggling her fingers. The small Inkling squealed through her raspberry, which did less to dampen its ticklishness than Marina had hoped. Both now were squealing and laughing, both because of the tickles and the ridiculousness of the situation.

The two were locked in a stubborn tickle war of attrition: could Pearl withstand the curious wiggling fingers in her underarms before Marina inevitably gave in to her raspberries? Regardless of the outcome, Pearl was happy to finally have her girlfriend to herself after not being given any attention for so long. As silly as it seemed to be jealous of a toolbox, she felt pleased to finally have all of Marina's focus exclusively on her. She'd never admit it out loud, of course, but Pearl was more than happy to lose this battle if it meant spending more time with her favorite Octoling.

As it happens, the winner of the tickle war would not be determined that day, as a particularly devious raspberry to her side sent Marina rolling off the couch and onto the soft carpet, dragging a hiccupy Pearl down with her. The two girls squealed with delight as they landed, their legs getting tangled together in the confusion. Slowly, the laughter died down, and the two pairs of eyes opened to look into each other. Their faces melted with fondness, wobbly lovestruck smiles replacing helplessly plastered grins. As they gazed into each other's eyes, arms wrapped around each other, legs intertwined, and so close… It was poetry worthy of Sappho herself.

Pearl broke the silence first. "You oughta be more playful. It's fun to see you like this."

"What, you mean it's fun to see me all disheveled and a mess?" 

The Inkling giggled, nodding. "Yep! I don't see you so unraveled often, so it's always a fun gift to witness!"

Marina's smile widened slightly before she shyly said, "Then feel free to unravel me as much as you'd like, babe."

Led by the profoundly influential force whose origin lies beyond scientific scrutiny and which has always guided the hearts of two lovers throughout countless millennia, the two cephalopods pressed themselves closer and stole a sweet, blissful kiss. When they finally pulled apart, the sun had sunk under the horizon, swapping vibrant oranges with soft purples as the stars began to appear above.

"Welp," Pearl said after a moment, "can't sleep on the floor." With that, she untangled herself and stood, picking up the surprisingly lightweight Octoling from the floor and plopping her onto the couch.

Marina giggled. "The couch isn't much better for your back, y'know-"

"Shush, genius, or else I'll make you shush." Pearl poked her girlfriend one last time as she sat beside her, forcing the tinkerer to concede.

With that, the two relaxed into the cushions, holding hands. Unable to prop her head on Marina's shoulder, Pearl nestled into her bicep, making the taller girl coo silently and wrap her other arm around the Inkling. 

Yawning, Pearl said, "Can we, like, go to a karaoke bar or something tomorrow?"

Sighing fondly, Marina nodded. "We'll make it a date."

Pearl giggled victoriously. “Just us, right? You’re not gonna bring an Allen wrench or something?”

“Why on earth would I bring an Allen wrench with me on a date?”

“Not sure, but if anyone were to, it would be you.”

After a few seconds to consider, Marina nodded. “You’re probably right. No tools, I promise.”

So, with the gentle accompaniment of Marina's speaker, the two lovebirds drifted off to sleep, smiling all the while. 

[gingerlee-holds]

okay so this is gonna be something different lmao- my beloved @lionkid gave me an idea when i was visiting her and i wanted to make this for her-! its not a tword fic, but hopefully it'll become a good story if i keep at it- its the first chapter, and please let me know what you think!! i cant wait to build on it more heehee

also im sorry its kinda short lmao

the title for this story is Trains out of Tranton! enjoy <3

Chapter 1: Home

Words: 630 Warnings: Post-Apocalypse setting

It all happened so fast. I suppose it's easier to see the danger of a situation afterward when you have all the facts, and to us, it feels like the world that came before was a house of cards just begging to be toppled over. Frankly, it's a miracle that humankind lasted into the 20th Century. The scholar says the current year is 1996; we must take his word for it.

I am Jack Flynn, born to Samuel and Laurie in a world bereft of hope. The collapse of civilization was their childhood, a time of empty stomachs, and they were robbed of their American Dream. Samuel's tribe crossed paths with Laurie's in the ruins of Seattle during the most brutal blizzard in living memory, and my father chose to leave his people and join hers. Two decades ago, I came into this world one year after he made that choice, and with her final breath, my mother named me and promised me warmth.

Samuel Flynn, a natural leader, led our people from the old home in Seattle where wild dogs roam with foaming mouths and monstrous beasts proclaim themselves men. He brought us south from the bitter cold, and we found our new home in Tranton. Before the collapse, Tranton was a mere trainyard, but it took on a new role among the sick, hungry, and miserable survivors of my tribe. I was still in swaddling cloth then, not nearly old enough to form a memory of life before Tranton nor a perception of where elsewhere is. 

The world I know is far smaller than my father's. Tranton is barely three square miles in area, filled with thousands of people desperate for a place to sleep. The rails rust under torrential rain, springing forth moss and weeds between the tracks. Aspen saplings shot from the soil below in a mad frenzy, and the tallest of them stooped over our homes like giants. The boxcars of the old world make for tremendous homes for a tribe of hungry refugees, and the cars harbored two families each. Most importantly, though, those cars that could not be utilized for storage or transportation around the settlement were heaved onto their sides and became the walls upon which our soldiers stood watch against the horrors beyond.

From what our patrols inform us, every can of food for miles around has been eaten or destroyed by the elements. As such, Tranton must import their food from outside, and every week, a mule hauls a freight car into town, the shriek of ungreased axles announcing its arrival. The farms are among the few places unscathed by the collapse, and in return for the goods we can scavenge from the neighboring cities, they share with us their harvests. Well, that's not entirely true - those of us who can't scavenge become tinkerers, forming scrap metal into tools for survival and weapons against marauders. The turbines we've fashioned turn a fierce squall into a warm meal and a well-lit courtyard for my father to speak to our people from. Our home is at the edge of this courtyard, a diesel locomotive too old to turn its wheels but with a commanding presence over the surrounding cars. The roaring hearth I warmed my hands against was the firebox, and it was my father's responsibility to blow the train's whistle at sunrise each morning.

This whistle, choked with age, was what I awoke to every day for as long as I can recall. This whistle was normalcy, home. The whistle was the assurance that humankind had not yet died. The whistle promised that things were alright now and nothing needed changing. I hated that whistle; more than that, I hated the man who blew it.

[gingerlee-holds]

okay so uhm- i know nobody was really asking for this heh- but idk i hate feeling like this story is unfinished so- remember the Fernsby Journals? ,,,yeah so i wrote the final piece to that lmao- im sorry gang this is purely for my enjoyment alone and i just wanted to get this silly story finished lmao so here enjoy xD

to those unfamiliar, The Fernsby Journals is a world of my own creation, it was made as an afterthought a year ago but it turned into a story and idk heres the ending lol

March 23rd, 1745.

Read the first one here! Read the previous one here!

Words: 1766 Pairing: Ler!Clara, Lee!Eren Warnings: None! Lots of fluff though (literally hahahahahahaha-)

"Are... are you sure this is the way?" I asked over my shoulder.

"Absolutely, Eren!" She poked the middle of my spine, making me jump. For the past ten days, it seemed she couldn't get enough of my pathetic reactions to her poking and squeezing, and I had had just about enough of her... unprofessional behavior!

"Mr. Fernsby! Please, Clara, I have a degree." I rubbed my back, glaring over my shoulder the best I could.

"This is a fact of which I'm well aware, Eren! If you'll remember, I was with you as well! I have the same degree you do." Clara hummed a tune she heard a week prior. 

We had been walking for perhaps a quarter-hour by this point, and needless to say, I was a tad winded. We approached the base of a large hill covered in bright green grass, and I sat on the gentle slope to regain my breath. Clara opted to continue walking for a bit, just to peer over the crest, and then she came back down to sit by my side.

I sighed and got back on the subject. "Now, if you knew where the featherflakes were, why did it take you so thunderingly long to take me here? It's not like we spent the time productively!" 

"Ah! But don't you remember, we had that study session, Eren!" Clara wiggled a finger in my ear, causing me to jump up with a squeak. I straightened my coat and huffed.

"When we were supposed to be looking for historical sources, I seem to recall you first eating all the biscuits I had prepared for us and then spending the rest of the hour tick- ahem... distracting me from the task at hand!" I turned to walk up the hill, wanting nothing more than to be finished with this nonsense.

"It was tickly tea time! I told you!" She sent another poke to my back, and I jumped again.

I whirled around and jabbed an accosting finger into her breastbone. "Listen here, you-!" However, I could not finish my statement as Clara took me by both shoulders with an affectionate smirk and gave me a gentle push. With a yelp, I began tumbling down the other side of the hill, yelling expletives the entire descent. 

When I finally rolled to a stop, I lay on the floor of the valley for a minute, groaning as the dizzy feeling wore away. "Are you alright, Eren?" I heard Clara call down from the hill.

I extended a shaky hand to begin pushing myself up. "Yes, I'm- f-fihihihine-!" I gasped with shock as I felt a tingling feeling in my palm. My head shot up to look around me, and I beheld a vast white plain extending for kilometers out of sight. I slowly reached my knees to gaze over this veritable sea of featherflakes.

"Welcome," Clara called from behind me, "to the Field of Feathers!" She laughed at my face when I turned to her, seeing her slowly walk down the hill toward me. "First recorded in 486 when the Romans occupied this part of Britain, the native tribes used this to their great advantage, turning out an entire legion of soldiers into squealing schoolchildren!" 

"How did-?" I started to ask, but she paid me no mind as she continued teaching me about this place. 

"Then, of course, when the Normans invaded in 1066, this field was the site of what was to be the greatest battle these isles had seen until then. Neither side knew this place existed, so both armies had to call a hasty - and giggly - retreat!"

I rubbed my head, stunned. How had all of this information eluded me? "I don't-"

"You certainly must know of the War of the Roses, Eren! Studied your history at university, I know. It was here, at the Field of Feathers, where the Lancasters forced a surrender from the House of York by so shrewdly pushing their enemy back into this field, where they were quickly tickle-tickle-tickled into submission!" Clara sat on the slope in front of me, smiling at me all the while. A blush darkened my face, and I looked down to avoid her gaze. "Then, a few centuries later, an adorable little scholar named Eren Fernsby became so enraptured by the idea of being tickled by the Field of Feathers that he somehow avoided all history of them in his textbooks. His library was filled with historical mentions of this place, but it seemed like he pretended not to see all these, to give him an excuse to visit the field for himself."

My head shot up, pale as a sheet. "I- You-"

She extended her hand, keeping her pointer finger out to keep my chin up toward her. "Many things you are, Eren. A scholar, a pedant, a stubborn little boy. Regardless, you have never been an actor."

I could feel my face heat up, red like a Lancaster rose. Whining softly, I felt my body relax into the grass beneath me. She had me all figured out.

"Now, Eren, if you please," she chuckled, reaching up to grip the back of my collar and turning me around to face the Field of Feathers. I felt my coat loosen as she undid my buttons, leaving me only my undershirt to defend myself with.

"Wait, wait, Clara, hold on," I pleaded, wriggling in her grasp a bit. 

Clara leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Study to your heart's content, little scholar~!" With that, I was unceremoniously heaved forward into the field, my disturbance causing the field to erupt in featherflakes. I didn't even get the chance to gain my composure before it was swiftly broken again, as I felt swarms of featherflakes rushing into my clothing. 

"N-NohoHoHOHOHO! CLAHAHAHARAAHAHA!!" I laughed, rolling around to stop the invading fiends, only succeeding in disrupting more featherflakes to join their companions. "MEHEHEHERCYHYHYHY!"

"Mercy?" Clara rested her chin on her palm as she watched me writhe on the grass before her. "Why are you asking me for mercy, you silly boy? I'm not doing anything to you~! You should be begging those featherflakes for mercy, and you will have to beg because you've so inconsiderately disturbed their peaceful spring day~!"

"DAHAHAHAHAHAMN YOUHUHUHUHU!" I squealed, unable to bring myself to my feet. The more I thrashed about, the more flakes I turned into the air, which only made me thrash harder! Somehow, I hadn't felt my shoes being tugged off my feet, and when I felt a few flakes finding their way into my socks, I well and truly shrieked to the heavens above. 

"Sohoho dramatic~!" Clara giggled, standing up. She cautiously approached the edge of the field, reaching her hand out for me to grab. "C'mere, cutie."

I rolled onto my stomach and began to crawl towards her, trying with every fiber of my being to ignore the hundreds of flakes filling the inside of my shirt. "IHIHI- IHIHI CAHAHAN'T REHEHEHEACH!! IT'S TOOHOOHOO MUHUHUHUHUCH!!" I cackled.

Clara rolled her eyes affectionately. "My goodness, you're ticklish. Whatever would have become of you if I weren't here to save you? Laughed yourself to death, I reckon." She reached out further. "C'mon, I'm right here. Take my hand."

I raised my hand to take hers before squealing in surprise at the feeling of featherflakes flying down my sleeve into my underarm. I shrieked and curled in on myself. "THIHIHIHIS-! IHIHIS HEHEHELLISH!" 

"Hm, then why are you enjoying yourself so much? Nobody can have a bad time when they have a big adorable smile plastered over their face~!" 

Looking up, I saw her hand, closer, within reach. I reached up to take it with a monumental effort, yet I missed it. Through my mirthful tears, I couldn't see her smile or that she had moved her hand back at the last second. "CLOHOHOHOHOSHEHEHEHERRR!!!!" I squealed.

"I'm as close as I can get, Eren! Come on, you can grab, lovebug~!" She called to me, and I tried grabbing her hand again, only to miss and end up with more flakes in my sleeve. I collapsed onto the grass and rolled onto my back, holding myself around my stomach.

"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHEEEE!!!" I cackled at the clouds above.

I heard a fond sigh. "You really are helpless when you're being tickled. Guess I gotta do everything around here~," Clara purred. Suddenly, I felt her hand grabbing the back of my collar again, and with a single tug, I was safely back on the slope. "There, you baby, you're safe."

"BuHuhuhUhuut-!!" The feeling of the flakes hadn't gone away. The villains were still trapped in my clothing! 

"Ah, I see the problem. Here, let me help you out there~!" With that, I felt her hands diving into my shirt, picking around for flakes... and scribbling!

"NOHOHO!! CLAHAHARAAHAHAA!!!" I threw my head back onto the grass, kicking my legs as her strong arms worked around in my shirt. 

"What~? I'm helping you, Eren! Stay still. You're only going to make the tickly-tickly-tickles worse for you~!" She giggled beside me, throwing away all pretense of helpfulness as she scribbled over my belly button.

My eyes bulged out of my face, and I lunged upward. "NOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE! PLEHEHEHEHEASEE, CLAHAHAHHAARAHAHA!!!" 

"Oh, good heavens, you're a mess!" Clara tittered. Her scribbling slowed to gently rubbing with one hand, using her other to pick around to get the flakes out. "Just a bit of tickling, and you're absolutely helpless. Tsk, tsk..." 

I whined as she gently took all the flakes out, continuing to rub my stomach. My laughter slowly wound down to giggling and then to a ragged breathing. I was sprawled out on the slope of the hill, and Clara beside me lay down, not stopping her belly rubs. Before us, the flakes settled back down to the valley floor, and the sunset in the distance painted the Field of Feathers in a cheery, dare I say, tickle-me-pink. The warmth was getting to me.

"You look tired, dear~," she whispered. I didn't have the energy to reply as my eyelids drooped. "I suppose I'll have to carry you back home after this..." 

She said something else, but I didn't get a chance to hear it. For the life of me, I swear it sounded something like 'I love you,' but perhaps it was simply my weary delusions. I awoke the following day in bed, spooned by my sweet Clara. I didn't mind it as much. Writing down my observations could wait. I went back to sleep, a little closer to her this time. 

[gingerlee-holds]

private fics!

just finished a private fic for someone!! im gonna add to my request rule things that im able to write public or private fics, and you folks have to clarify whether it should be public or private in the request <3

[gingerlee-holds]

Chapter One: The Girl Who Snoozed and Won

The following is Chapter One of a fic I'm writing entitled "Wake Up, Keidima!" about an OC of mine in the My Hero Academia universe. I was told cringe wasn't dead yet, and with any luck, these chapters will kill it. Anyways, it's not a tickle fic - sorry to disappoint my followers - it's just a short fic covering the Entrance Exam Arc of MHA, and how my OC fits into it. Maybe I'll post the next chapter soon, who knows. I'd love to hear what you think of it.

Word Count: 4377

There are three things you need to know about Keidima Eivi. Firstly, she wasn't a morning person.

"WAKE UP, BEDHEAD, YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE!!!"

Keidima yelped as she was yanked out of bed, the sudden feeling of gravity's pull jarring her from her peaceful slumber. She had just enough time to drag her assailant down with her, and she and her twin brother were sent to the ground in a heap. Jodonaki Eivi swatted his sister like a cat would bap a dog.

"You won't get into UA if you sleep through the Entrance Exam!" he yelled, shaking Keidima to get his point across.

Keidima hummed in thought and yawned, rubbing her eye with a fist. "UA…? Oh, I'm sure they'll understand if I sleep five more minutes…" Her head drooped down a little before snapping back up again. "UA! The exam is today!" 

"There ya go, Bedhead!" Jodonaki chuckled as his sister jumped up, body now filled with adrenaline. He followed suit, standing and walking down to the kitchen as she got dressed. "I'll warm up a bowl of Miso for you. No cereal, you don't need the calories."

Keidima let out a single mocking laugh as she began tearing her pajamas off and throwing more clothes on. "I'm not gonna take health advice from you, Belch!"

She heard the effect of the nickname in the form of a bowl being slammed down on a table, quick footsteps up the stairs, which then stopped halfway up with a sudden burst of coughing, then stomped back down again. "It's a cool quirk! You're just jealous!"

Giggling as she sat back on the bed, she took a pair of socks from her drawer and put them on, wiggling her toes inside. Her characteristic fuzzy pink socks, especially when fresh out of the dryer, were unbelievably cozy to walk in, and if she wasn't so anxious about the upcoming exam, she'd immediately return to bed with them on. As it was, however, she jogged to the bathroom and began brushing her teeth. Once she was finished, Keidima looked up into the mirror at the sweet-looking, button-nosed, freckle-covered face staring back at her. She smiled wide and gave her reflection a thumbs-up, mumbling the famous hero slogan, "Plus ultra," with a nervous giggle.

As she pulled a band T-shirt over her head and put her arms through, Keidima looked down at her waist. "Have I grown taller?" she thought. Earlier, she saw she was around three inches taller than her brother, who was average height. "That's strange. Guess I haven't been paying attention." Pulling down a little, trying to cover her exposed midriff, she grumbled. "Guess I'll fix that problem after the exam." She pulled on her pants, practically desperate for a distraction from the rapidly-approaching exam. She had heard about some of the other students and their abilities, each more powerful and impressive than the last.

UA was a reach and Keidima knew it. Her teachers knew it too, and desperately tried to dissuade her from applying, but the girl was resolute. Every time someone told her about the terrifyingly low acceptance rate - she had heard the phrase "You know you have less than 1% chance of getting in, right?" more than a dozen times by this point - she simply shrugged. She even had a mantra she would repeat to herself whenever it happened. "I'm not worried. I'll be a hero!" This mantra, incidentally, was what she was hurriedly mumbling to herself as she hopped down the stairs, brushing her long red hair with one hand and holding onto the banister with the other.

Stumbling into the kitchen, she threw the brush on the couch and sat down at the table right as Jodonaki set a warm bowl of Miso soup in front of her. Jodonaki chuckled, ruffling Keidima's hair as she began scarfing down her breakfast. "You look weird without messy hair. I'm not used to it. Besides, I think it suits you!"

Keidima huffed but kept her snark to herself, focusing instead on making sure she was fed enough for the exam. What would it entail? Will other people make fun of her? What if she proves everyone right, and fails? These anxious questions only spurred her to eat faster as she shot up from her seat and sailed out the door like a rocket, shouting, "I'll come back a hero!"

"Wait, Keidima! You forgot-" Jodonaki stopped on the doorstep and sighed. "-your medication…" He held the bottle of Provigil in his hand as he watched his twin race off toward the UA campus. "Y'know… maybe she won't need them. The adrenaline may keep her awake long enough to fend off the side effects of her quirk. Yeah… yeah she'll be just fine…" he mumbled, not very reassuringly, to himself as went back inside, closing the door behind him. 

Keidima was running as fast as her legs could carry her, jumping and dodging various obstacles. She jumped over a fire hydrant, swung around a tree, bounced around a corner. 

"I'm gonna be late! Then I'll never be able to become a true hero!" She growled at her own laziness and ran faster. 

Arriving at a stop light, she bent over, gasping for breath as she waited with several other people. The traffic was busy today, so she couldn't count on the crosswalk being quick.

"Where's the fire, kid?" a baritone voice beside her said. She hastily jerked her body upward at the sound, looking up into the bored eyes of a man around thirty with greasy black hair that went down to his shoulders. He was wearing a black coat with a long, thin gray scarf around his neck. In his hand was a bag filled with pencils, pens, rulers, and a lot of erasers. "School supplies…?" His jawline was covered in messy stubble, he looked far too thin, and the bags under his eyes were very prominent. "He looks tired… I wish I could help," Keidima thought. That was the primary thing she always thought about whenever she saw someone: how much sleep they look like they are getting. And this man wasn't getting enough. He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow, and Keidima quickly realized that she was staring.

"Oh! Sorry, mister!" She smiled a wobbly smile. "I'm gonna be late for my entrance exam if I'm not fast!"

"Another prospective UA student, hm?" his eyes pierced into hers, as if reading the contents of her soul. "Eh, I think you'll be fine."

"I certainly hope so, sir…" Keidima looked down at her feet. Why did this guy care? And how could he tell she was heading to UA? Was he a detective or something? 

"Hey, eyes up, kid. Focus on what's happening now."

"Yeah… that's good advice, thanks…" She smiled softly. The sound of shuffling feet eluded her.

"No, I mean, right now. The light turned."

She quickly looked up, noticing that the small crowd who was with her was already halfway across the street. "Ah! Thank you, sir!" she yelled as she sprinted off, running through the crowd and not stopping until she saw the large glass towers of the UA main building, which made her gasp softly when she saw them. "Focus on what's happening now."

Keidima slowed to a halt as she approached the front gates. Again gasping for breath, she didn't notice most of the students who went by. She leaned back up to crack her back, smiling despite her nervousness. Looking around, she saw a fair few other teenagers showing up to the building. "I'm not late! …That's a first." She giggled as she started walking towards the building, looking over briefly to watch a green-haired boy almost fall flat on his face only to be quickly saved by a girl with a gravity quirk. 

"He doesn't look like he got much sleep either… No! Focus! Like that weird guy said!"

She stood tall and walked forward to the entrance, almost bumping into a kid in front of her. 

"Hey, watch where you're… Keidima?" The girl in front of her turned, pushing pink hair out of her face with a pink hand. 

"Mina!"

The two of them hugged tightly, Mina Ashido rubbing Keidima's back. "Ohmygosh, how are you?" Mina asked.

"Guess!"

"Sleepy?"

Keidima giggled along with her as she nodded. "Golly, I haven't seen you for at least a few months!"

"I know!" Mina made a playful expression as she squeezed the other's arm. "I missed you a bunch. Oh! Did you see Kirishima? Apparently, he's applying too!"

"No way?? I hope I see him! I know he's gonna rock this exam!" She giggled at her joke, hiding her smile behind her hand.

"Oh, you're terrible!" Mina whined. "C'mon, let's get inside!" 

They both navigated to the orientation hall, where they got split up. Keidima took a seat as someone began announcing the rules of the exam. 

"That's Present Mic!" she heard a voice whisper behind her. "I listen to his radio show all the time!"

Keidima giggled a little at Mic's appearance and mannerisms, looking very dramatic as he gestured wildly, and then she yawned. "Oh no." That's when she realized she had forgotten her medication, her precious pills that kept her awake. She felt around in her pockets, hoping beyond hope that he had just an extra, but no luck. She was on her own, no medication, all on her own. "Shit… shit!!" She shrunk back into her seat as she realized the danger she was in. A despairing look came across her face as she put a hand to her head.

The second thing you need to know about Keidima Eivi is her quirk. Years ago, she had called it "Goodnight," despite the fact that it may have just been her saying 'goodnight' to the person asking the question. In either case, the name stuck. 

Her quirk gives her the ability to make anything enter a state of rest. When she focuses and activates her quirk, the people around her become very cuddly and sleepy. Within about a few minutes, most of them are out cold, snoozing blissfully for around an hour. If she could harness this power, it could be formidable, but as it was, it was pretty weak. In fact, it had one major drawback: she became sleepy too. Everytime she used her quirk, she got a little bit more tired, until eventually, she couldn't help but lay down and take a nap. Speaking of…

Keidima got a swift swat on the back of her head from the student sitting next to her, jolting her awake. "Jeez, I'm in worse shape than I thought…"

"What did I miss?" she whispered to the blonde boy next to her. He had a black lightning bolt streak in his hair.

"Dude was tellin' us that we need to take down robots, get points, yada yada. Just don't go after the big ones," he quickly whispered back, pointing at the screen.

"Thanks… for helping me stay awake."

"No worries, happens to me all the time."

A kid behind them hushed them both softly and she focused back up on the screen. 

Keidima stood outside the massive gates of her testing grounds. 

"Robots…?" she mumbled to herself. "I'm not even sure if my quirk works on robots…! What if it doesn't have any effect whatsoever?"

"Yeah, join the club," came a tired voice next to her. Keidima looked over and saw a boy with spiky purple hair and half-lidded eyes. "No, not tired. Bored. Or, at least trying to give that effect," she thought.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

He sighed and looked at her. "I bet you have a quirk that you're pretty proud of, yeah?"

"Well, yeah, kind of-"

"But it only works on humans, right?"

"As far as I know-"

He huffed. "Yeah. I know how you feel." Keidima could see a little bit of nervousness in his eyes. "He really wants into this course…"

She smiled wide, giving him a thumbs-up. "We're gonna do great! Those bots won't know what hit them!" The purple-haired boy huffed a little, his expression not changing, but Keidima could tell that he appreciated those words.

"ALRIGHT, GO! NO COUNTDOWNS IN REAL BATTLES!" blared the voice of Present Mic as the doors swung open.

Keidima's legs moved before she could think. As the rest of the participants ran forward on the main road, she turned and went down a side road, knowing she may have more luck if there weren't other people around. Or, maybe that's just what she told herself to avoid worrying about making anyone else collateral with her quirk. 

Her instincts led her down a narrow alleyway. From a distance, she could hear the whirring of gears, the clanking of metal, and the destructive capabilities of various quirks colliding with the test bots. "I gotta find some villain bots, or else I won't have a chance to test my quirk!"

Something smashed into a wall in front of her and a boy with spiky, ash-blonde hair made a villain bot blow up with his hands. "THAT'S TWENTY-FOUR!" he shouted, running off. "KEEP UP, YA DAMN EXTRAS!"

Keidima squeaked and ran down an alley, trying desperately to get away from any other participants. "Gotta find a bot, gotta find a bot!"

Suddenly, her wish came true as a two-point scorpion-looking robot jumped down in front of her, aiming its weapons at her.

"SHIT-!" she dodged out of the way as the car behind her was blasted to bits, landing on top of a dumpster. Keidima began activating her quirk, focusing on the bot as much as she could. A warm, tingling sensation shot down her arms and toward the villain bot. "I'm gonna die! It's not gonna work!"

The villain bot blasted again and Keidima narrowly avoided being reduced to pieces. She had nowhere to go but forward, and as she leapt forward, she landed right on the robot's body. Out of instinct, she pressed both of her hands on the cold metal of the robot, praying that something, anything will happen.

It took only a few moments for the villain bot to realize what had happened, and Keidima suddenly felt very weak as the bot's weapons pointed at her. Tears welled in her eyes as she begged her quirk, "Please, please, please-!!!" The weapons loaded.

However, they didn't get the chance to fire. Slowly, the robot sank down to the ground, the light leaving its eyes as it powered down.

"It… it worked. Holy friggin crap, it WORKED!" She sprang up and squealed, jumping up and down on the bot and flapping her hands happily. "I took down a bot!"

"FIIIIIVE MINUTES REMAINING!!!" came Present Mic's voice, echoing through the mock city.

"Dammit… Okay, no time to celebrate. I gotta find another bot before I run out of time-"

She was interrupted by a sudden crash. It sounded like something large. Like a moth to a flame, she ran to the source of the noise, coming out of the alley onto another street, seeing the same purple-haired boy from earlier, and in front of him was a large villain bot. 

The villain bot was a three-pointer. It walked on two legs and looked like it had rocket launchers on its back. 

"Who sent you?" the purple-haired boy shouted at the bot, backing away with a twinge of fear in his eyes. "What are you doing? Can't you hear me?" He was panicking!

Keidima yells, "Look out!" and dives at the boy, pushing him out of the way of an incoming blast from the villain bot. "Why are you asking the damn thing questions!"

"It's my quirk! I told you, it only works on people!"

"I thought mine did too! Keep it distracted, just don't get hit!" She jumped to her feet and ran at the bot recklessly.

"Are you insane? It'll kill you!"

"I'm not worried! I'll be a hero!" she shouted behind her. Keidima jumped onto the arm of the villain bot, and climbed up onto its neck, and pressed her hands on the sides of the bot's head. "Go to sleep, go to sleep!"

The massive bot swung around, sending Keidima flying into a fake nearby storefront through a window with a shriek. She jumped back up and felt something warm and wet dribbling down her back, soaking her shirt.

She growled with determination as she vaulted through the window again, jumping and wrapping her arms around the bot's leg. "How long has it been since I activated my quirk? Two minutes, I think. It's gotta start turning off soon!"

The villain robot kicked its leg at her a little, before realizing she wasn't a threat as it looked back up back up at the boy, aiming its launchers. In a moment, though, the bot visibly became uneasy, teetering on its legs before crumpling to the ground, powered down.

"YEHEHES!!!! WOO!!" Keidima jumped up and ran to the purple-haired boy, gripping him in a hug and spinning him around. "WE DID IT!!!"

The boy just looked at her with a lot of confusion on his face. "I didn't do anything-" he said as he pushed her off. "Just focus on the test." Then, he gasped and ran off in the opposite direction. Turning around, Keidima saw what it was: a zero-point bot. It towered over the arena, crushing buildings with ease. 

Keidima squeaked and ran after the boy. "It looks a lot larger than I expected!!!"

"Can't you use your quirk on it? Turn it off!"

"It's over 10 stories tall!! It would take me hours of non-stop focus to take it down!"

"TIIIIIME'S UUUUP!"

They both came to a stop and gulped in air as they looked behind them, the massive bot returning to its position. "Thank god…" the boy mumbled.

"Hey," she said, standing upright a little and looking at her fellow participant. "I never caught your name!" Keidima giggled as she began walking with the boy back to the doors.

"Never dropped it." He looked at her, his eyes a mix of appreciation and disdain. "Shinso. Hitoshi Shinso." 

Keidima smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Keidima Eivi! Pleasure to meet you!"

"I probably won't get into the hero course. I didn't get any points."

"That may be, but I think you were very brave! It's not your fault the test was biased against you."

"Well, that makes two of us."

Suddenly, Keidima sank to her knees, wincing with pain as she felt her back. Shards of glass had sliced massive cuts into her flesh, and the whole back of her shirt was soaked with blood. 

"Woah, that's really bad. Let's get you to the gates, hopefully there'll be a nurse or something." Shinso swung her arm around his shoulders, half-carrying her to the entrance of the arena.

They arrived at the gates, and Shinso gently set her down onto the pavement, rolling her shirt up to see how bad the wounds were. Keidima really didn't like the gasp he let out, and by that time, other students were gathering around. 

"Holy crap, how did that happen?" a bystander asked.

"Glass." Shinso looked at the other students. "Is there a nurse or something we can call? Does anyone here have a healing quirk?"

The students looked around, nobody coming forward. Then, the boy with the yellow hair that Keidima saw earlier came forward. "Yeah, there's a nurse. Her name's Recovery Girl. She should be here soon, one of the adults mentioned that she'll be going around to each of the arenas after the exam to make sure everyone's okay."

"So we just have to make sure Keidima's alright until she gets here."

Suddenly, a massive cry was heard bouncing through the mock city. The students parted, and two others came forward, dragging a third behind them. The girl they were holding had a completely broken leg - all bones shattered. 

"G-GUYS, I'M FINE, JUST- LET ME UP-" she thrashed around, punching at the students carrying her. They set her down next to Keidima and stood back. "I CAN DO JUST FINE ON MY OWN, I DON'T NEED-" 

"The girl's delirious… she's only going to hurt herself more with how much she's moving her leg."

"You're all… being ridiculous! My leg is fine, I'm fine! I don't need any- AHH-!!" The girl had tried getting up, and fallen backward with a cry when she moved her leg. "It's just, mind over matter!! I can- I can!"

Slowly, gently, Keidima extended her hand, grabbing hold of the girl's forearm and squeezing reassuringly. "Just relax, alright? You've been working hard and deserve a rest."

"W-what are you talking about! I can still fight you- In fact, I can fight all of you!"

Keidima activated her quirk, really focusing on the girl. 

"She must have so much adrenaline going through her body right now. That must be why she's acting so insouciant," a student around the circle said. 

"Then this is going to be difficult… C'mon, c'mon, just a little more strength…" Keidima yawned and could feel sleep quickly approaching.

"C'mon, who's first!" The girl tried standing again, only for the boy with the yellow hair to press her back down again. Keidima smiled appreciatively as she focused her quirk with all her strength. The wounds in her back felt like she had been stabbed with knives, and her head was spinning with the use of her quirk and the significant blood loss.

And finally, the girl yawned. Leaning back onto the concrete, her eyelids began to look droopy. 

"Yes, yes! That's it!" Keidima grinned widely and managed to stay awake long enough to watch the girl fall into a peaceful slumber before passing out herself. 

The third thing you need to know about Keidima Eivi is her complete anxiety with the wellbeing of others. She hated seeing other people in pain and will do anything in her power to make them feel better. She didn't care about justice, or the fame and glory that comes with being a hero. No, the only thing Keidima sought was to make as many people as possible happy, no matter the cost.  

"I'm sure you did your best, Bedhead," Jodonaki was braiding Keidima's hair on the couch, comforting her about the exam. 

"But the results should have come by now. Mina told me she had gotten accepted this morning."

Jodonaki put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it's taking longer for you!"

She sighed and rested her head against the cushion. "I only got five points. That's not nearly enough…"

"Would you like some tea?" Jodonaki asked.

"...Yeah… I would."

As Jodonaki got up, he saw what looked like a letter coming in through the door slot, landing with a soft thud on the carpet. He walked over and picked up the letter, letting out a large gasp when he saw a large "UA" printed on the front. In fact, the gasp was so large that he choked on his own spit and was sent to the floor in a coughing fit. 

Keidima began softly giggling at the sound, not getting up. "Just be sure not to get any spit in my tea, right, Jodo?"

"K-KEHEDIMA!" Jodonaki managed to cough out, making the girl freeze in place at his tone. "L-LEHE- (more coughing) LEHETTER!!"

Keidima jumped to her feet, running over to her brother, who was on the floor coughing up a lung. He weakly handed the letter up to her, then dug into his pocket and produced a small blue inhaler, which he greedily sucked on for air.

Keidima stood, trembling, and walked over to the couch. Sitting down, she carefully began opening the letter. Jodonaki sat down beside her, looking eagerly at the envelope. Finally, Keidima turned it over, and a round gray disk fell out, landing on Jodonaki's foot painfully. He was about to start cussing out the little disk and Keidima, but suddenly, the disk lit up as a hologram was projected into the room.

"BOOYAH! I AM HERE, AS A PROJECTION!"

Both of the teenagers in the room shrieked and jumped backward as All Might suddenly and loudly began talking at them. "W-why is he-!"

"Truth is, I didn't come to this city to fight villains. You are looking at the newest UA faculty member!"

The teens gasped and looked at each other in astonishment. 

"Apologies, I'll make this short. I have many other calls to make!" All Might cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, Miss Eivi, while you did pass the written test with flying colors, you only got five combat points in the practical exam, which isn't enough to pass. I'm sorry."

Keidima hung her head, sniffling softly. Jodonaki put his arm around her shoulder and held her close, holding his sister's head to his chest as she cried softly. "I knohohow… I trihihied…"

"And that's all that matters, sis, you did amazing! I know I couldn't have possibly done remotely that well!"

All Might spoke again. "Fortunately, there were other factors." Both teens looked up suddenly. "That is why I am here! You see, the practical exam was not graded on combat alone! We have rescue points! A panel of judges watches and awards heroic acts for not just fighting villains. Keidima Eivi! Forty rescue points!"

"WHAT???" Keidima fell forward off the couch, on her knees in front of the projected hero. "B-But that means-"

In a flash, Jodonaki was on the floor next to her. "Bedhead…!"

"You passed the exam, Miss Eivi." He turned and extended his hand toward the camera. "Welcome, Keidima. You have made it. You are now a part of the Hero Academia." The projection hung on his heroic face for a few more seconds before turning off.

Jodonaki squealed, picking up his sister in his arms and spinning her around. "BEDHEAD! YOU PASSED, YOU PASSED! YOU'RE A STUDENT OF UA!"

"C-cahareful, my back!" Keidima began crying again into Jodonaki's chest, clutching onto him like a koala. 

The coming months won't be easy, not by a long shot. But with her brother by her side, Keidima knew that she could tackle any problem that comes her way. 

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that's all for Chapter 1! I hope you're all as excited as I am to continue this story!!

Lemme read Chapter 2!

[gingerlee-holds]

On the Featherflake

This was at the suggestion of Hypah (Ms. SS2023 herself!). It was originally meant to be a simple info page, but I ended up inserting a tiny fic (?) about this character I made up named Eren Fernsby. I was imagining this eccentric little Victorian British twink, wearing little spectacles and messy black hair - I'm sure you can imagine the character in your head, you're a clever little cutie, I believe in you. I hope you enjoy the fic! Let me know if you'd like to see anymore from the character ("The Fernsby Journals" has a nice ring to it). I'm also in a rush because I have a lot of schoolwork, so that too.

Word Count: 711 Reading Time: ~5 minutes Warnings: Un-proofread fic lmao- not the usual level of "quality"- also a lot of feathers

The featherflake is a rare phenomenon, only witnessed by a lucky (or unlucky) few. 

The flake itself is nothing impressive. It's a small, white flake, resembling a snowflake from afar. However, upon further inspection, an observant passerby will notice key differences.

The most noticeable attribute of the featherflake is its size, ranging from 12 millimeters to 25 millimeters in diameter. Furthermore, their structure allows the flake to cluster, interlocking to form large piles.

If one were to look closer at such a pile of featherflakes, one would instantly notice this structure. Instead of a crystalline water-based design, it appears light and fluffy, similar to a goose feather. Indeed, the average featherflake has about eight "feather" structures connected in the middle to form a flake. This is another key difference: eight points instead of a snowflake's six.

The observer may even step a little closer, hesitantly picking a small cluster of featherflakes up to inspect them closer. The feeling of the feathers may tickle an exposed palm slightly, but for someone wearing mittens on a cold winter's day, one typically pays no mind. They aren't cold like snow is. For all the observer may know, feathers have fallen randomly out of the sky. 

Despite how uncommon this is, a featherflake event has happened throughout history, and many a prudent meteorologist has documented the event well. For instance, in 1744, then-amateur natural philosopher Eren Fernsby recorded the following in his journal on a particularly blustery November evening:

"How remarkable this all is! An act of God indeed, though instead of manna, He has brought feathers! For what end, I know not - this weather seemingly defies explanation. At 6:42, right when the sun had peaked from behind the hills, I was lying in bed, and I must confess, I did not wish to rise. The wind had been pressing at my windows so violently in the night that I had shuttered them tightly. However, when the sunlight began permeating my little room, I saw with surprise that my windows had been flung open! Grumbling with chagrin, I rolled over and held the covers over my head, cursing the sun for its horrible punctuality.

It may have been another hour when I awoke with a gasp. I felt something soft against my stomach, and upon observation, I saw it was a snowflake... made of feathers! Imagine my surprise when I looked around my room and saw the place teeming with them, covering every imaginable surface! Oh, what a chore to clean - or at least, that is what I would have thought were I not enraptured by the sight. I stepped out of bed, yet I severely miscalculated my bedsheet's location and fell onto the floor with an indignant yelp. Instead of an annoyed mutter, I let out a soft giggle. How very strange it felt! The troublesome little feathers had found their way into my bedrobe. And it felt extraordinarily tickly sensitive.

As I rolled about on my floor, attempting to untangle my ankles from the bedsheet, I only managed to agitate the flakes' positions, causing them to fly everywhere in my clothes in a flurry. I would not count myself as a particularly ticklish sensitive individual, but I must admit I cackled hysterically chuckled lightly at the feeling. The feathers swirled about in my robe, wiggling over my stomach, sides, thighs, and chest. I squealed and squealed. No matter how many times I squirmed, they continued their onslaught. It took half an hour to get rid of them! I was breathless, wheezing, blushing, and immediately began this journal entry. 

What possible cause could be engendering such a strange occurrence! I think I loved it It was very odd. I look forward to seeing this event again, if it ever does repeat, purely for research purposes.

Upon rereading this journal a year later, I have decided to add a post-script. At various points in this entry, I have broken decorum. If I ever choose to publish this journal, I must adequately expunge any and all unprofessionalism. I have an image to maintain, after all."

Mr. Fernsby (and later, Sir Fernsby) did indeed record other entries about other featherflake blizzards and other phenomena, garnering him wide acclaim. He always seemed to scribble out some parts of his journals, though.

Read the following entry in The Fernsby Journals!

[gingerlee-holds]

March 13, 1745.

The next chapter! Featuring some new characters heehee (Don't worry, there will be more of them in the future!) I'm afraid that this chapter suffers from severe TWNFSTS (They Would Not Fucking Say That Syndrome), which I blame purely on the fact that I wanted my little Mr. Fernsby flustered and tworded a little. Is that a crime? But yeah, strangers irl don't act like this unfortunately, I just want everyone to adore my little scientist Anyways, I hope you all are enjoying these so far! They're very very fun to write. I just hope it's not too anachronistic.

Word Count: 2282 (holy crap i really let that get away from me huh) Reading Time: ~17.5 minutes Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, un-proofread ofc

I am most certainly now on the right track. I arrived in the little Welsh town two days ago, and immediately, the quaint charm of this place struck me. Really, calling it a town is a bit of a mischaracterization of the location. It is more of a village. Llandeilo, the village in question, is quite, quite picturesque. The streets are cobbled and flanked by brick buildings which show their age. There is not a library here, to my chagrin - this village’s proximity to Talley Abbey, I had hoped, would grant me access to more documents, some of which might have helped in my search. However, it does have a market square, a tavern, and a coffeehouse, each of which may have some inhabitant willing to share their knowledge on the subject. 

Cousin Barnaby's guest house is very fitting for my needs! The brute of a man does not truly understand what I am studying, and in his defense, I don't truly know either. Still, the house he has lent me is small, but with a spacious interior. Cousin Barnaby is the high constable for the village, and the poor man does not find intellectual pursuits in the least fascinating. Nevertheless, he has provided me with ample food and firewood for my little cabin, and if there is anything else I require, he has made it known that he is more than happy to provide for my needs. 

By that time, I still did not know what was causing the featherflakes, and I was determined, yesterday, to find out what they were, and if it were possible to become exposed to them again - purely for research purposes of course.

That morning, I had decided to first try my luck at the market square. There were merchants from all over, coming to and fro, shouting their wares. The air was filled with many smells - spices, fish, cheese, and various medicinal herbs (which I had perhaps tarried too long in perusing). 

The sounds of the market square were far more foreign than the smells. There were words shouted in Welsh, English, French, Irish - all of which I knew, of course, yet the combination of them all had a powerful effect on me. I believe I even heard singing from far off. There were numerous stalls filled with bartering and haggling townsfolk and merchants eager to swindle. I had walked up to one such tradesman at an empty stall, whose curly blonde hair, broad shoulders, and gap-toothed smile made him… quite appealing to the eyes. He seemed young and spoke in a smooth tone.

I straightened my tie and walked up closer. “Good morning, my good sir!” I had said to him, smiling confidently as I rested my hands on his stall, trying to emulate with every fiber of my being that I knew what I was doing. I did not in the slightest know what I was doing.

The tradesman chuckled softly, and spoke with a silky voice that, I admit, had a significant effect on my heartstrings. “Why, what do I have here! A university boy, come to pay a visit to my stall~!” He rested his chin on his elbow and looked me in the eye, almost smugly. “What can I do for you, stranger~?”

The confident, almost flirtatious, tone with which the man spoke put me at once off guard. Despite my best efforts, a blush found its way onto my face, and I found I could not meet his eye without a giggle. My hands fidgeted with the edges of my coat. “W-well!” I had said, “I’ve come to study a p-particular phemonenon- phenomemom- phenomenon!” 

The man chuckled and motioned for me to continue with his eyebrows.

“Ah-! You see, I had encountered what seemed to be- a storm of feathers last year at around this time, and I had read accounts that it may have been an event more common around here- I was wondering if-”

“Heh heh… a storm of feathers, huh~?” 

His voice stopped me and I looked back up at him. He was smiling smugly, as if he had known something about me that I did not. 

“No, sir! I mean- yes, sir!” I stood up at attention, trying to organize my frazzled mind. How was I failing to speak to this man so wholly?

Another alluring giggle escaped his lips. “Well, I don’t think I know much about feathers, and far less about storms of feathers. I’m a traveler, you see - I don’t stay in one place for long. Perhaps you,” he emphasized that word with a single finger-tap on the tip of my nose, “might find better information at a place where the locals reside, hm~? The tavern, perhaps?”

The blush on my cheeks grew hotter, I knew it for a fact without needing a looking-glass. I nodded, eagerly wanting to escape his eyesight to retain my dignity. “Yes, sir! Thank you very much, sir!” I turned my back and began walking quickly away, pushing past a few others who had stopped to watch the conversation.

I heard a few giggles from the tradesman. “Ohohoh, so formal~! Well, I shall see you again soon! I am in town all this week, dearest~!” At those words, a squeak escaped my lips and I broke into a run, wanting nothing more than to escape from the giggles of that quite handsome and flustering man. 

I went to some other shopkeepers, but none of them could provide any more information. The market square was clearly a poor start to this investigation. I just hope that word doesn’t spread around town too much about my… disposition.

I had planned on traveling to the tavern next, with or without that merchant’s advice. As I arrived, the sun had arisen over its peak and began sinking into the afternoon. 

The tavern was a small one, but it was crowded when I entered. The room was filled with people larger than myself, a scenario with which I was, by that time in my life, thoroughly familiar. There was an out-of-tune fiddle being played raucously in an adjacent room, and other such sounds of frivolity were abundant. 

Walking up to the bar, I noticed that the only two inhabitants were a woman and the bartender himself. The woman had a rough look about her, clearly someone used to hard work, if her muscles showed anything. She had her dark brown hair in a bun over her head, and wore a dark leather overcoat. The bartender was cleaning a wine glass with a rag, smiling at a joke the woman must have just told. He had an easy smile and his suave tuxedo suggested he was brought up in more high-class society than this.

I walked up and sat down at the bar next to the woman, motioning for the bartender to come over. “A glass of sherry, if you’d please, my friend!” I smiled at him, nodding when he looked at me with an arched eyebrow. 

The woman next to me chuckled and turned to me in her seat. “You new here? I think I would have remembered you if I’d seen you here before.”

The bartender brought me my glass and I set down a shilling for his troubles. He took it happily and put it in the pocket of his waistcoat, smoothing his pomaded black hair. “He certainly seems new. That sherry had been collecting dust.”

“Yes, well, you see, I have a particular quandary, and I was hoping one of you fine people could help!”

The two of them looked at each other, smiled with their eyes, then turned back to me. The woman said, “Why, we’d be happy to help!” 

I happily took a sip of my drink, finding it very delicious to taste. “Oh, splendid! All right, it goes like this. Last year, I had an encounter with a flurry of feathers. They had blown in and covered the house I was living in. They were a nuisance, but they caught my interest and held it.”

The gentleman behind the counter hummed, tapping his fingers on the counter as he listened and nodded. The woman, however, seemed uninterested. 

“So, you came here trying to find out more? You came all this way to find a bunch of feathers?” She grinned at me and did the same as the bartender, tapping her fingers on the counter.

Trying my best to ignore the finger-tapping and simply focus on the question, I said in reply, “Well, these were no ordinary feathers! They clumped up and invaded my home, and there was an uncountable supply of them!” My speech was stopped by a quick poke to my side. I squeaked and looked down, but saw nobody’s hand.

“Of feathers~?” That was the gentleman behind the bar, now sharing the smile the woman had. They looked at me like two hungry dogs would look at a lambchop. Their finger tapping had increased in speed.

At this point, my face was beginning to heat up again, and I nervously drank the rest of my glass to avoid thinking about it. “Yes, do you…  know where I might find these?” I felt a quick poke to my side again and jumped, gripping onto the counter to keep from falling, but when I looked back, there wasn’t a hand there.

The woman smiled and put her hand on my shoulder. “Oh, I think I know where we may find some!”

I smiled eagerly at her, ignoring the hand on my shoulder giving a gentle squeeze. “Where? I’d be delighted to know!”

“Why, outside! There’s a tree right next to here. There’s a rook’s nest up there, it should have some feathers.” With that, she gave me a quick poke to my side, which, with a rather embarrassing yelp, sent me off my stool and onto the floor. I flew to my feet in a huff, looking at her indignantly to hide the blush that had reached my ears.

“Madam! Never before in my life-”

The bartender interrupted my sentence with a chuckle, ruffling my hair. “Why don’t you run along, university boy? …Or else we’ll have to keep you here a while longer~.” His eyes narrowed as his smile grew wider. His finger-tapping on the counter had reached an almost scribbling-speed, making my blush grow wider as I looked at the woman a final time, then fled out of the tavern.

The woman and bartender laughed, the woman bringing her mug to her lips. “What an adorable little morsel. Hope he’s not leaving town soon.”

The market square was unhelpful, as was the tavern, but I was determined not to give up. In a last-ditch effort, I walked over to the coffeehouse. It was evening by then, and I hoped, perhaps naively, that I could still find some information on the featherflakes.

The coffeehouse had a warm glow, and a piano was being softly played in a corner. The landlord was stoking the fire from his seat next to it. I walked in, but upon seeing that there weren’t many people there, I sighed, and was about to leave. Then, however, I spotted a figure slumped over in a booth. Their head face-down on the table seemed… familiar. 

I approached and sat down next to them, tilting my head in curiosity. Finally, with a gentle tap on the shoulder, I mumbled, “Hullo?”

The figure shot up with a start, mumbling about Suffolk in delirium before looking at me, and her eyes adjusted in recognition. I gasped softly.

“Clara?” I whispered. Her face erupted into a happy smile and she threw her arms around my shoulders.

“EREN! How have you been, my dear, dear friend!”

With a squeak, I pushed on her shoulders as much as I could. “Uh-! Mr. Fernsby, if you please-!”

“Nonsense! You are and forever shall be my little Eren!” 

I growled a little and heaved her off, straightening my coat. “Mr. Fernsby, Clara.”

My old university roommate smiled her easy smile and pinched my cheek. “Whatever you say, Eren~!”

“Why does nobody in this accursed town take me seriously! I am on an investigation!”

“I believe it may be because you’re one of the cutest people ever born?”

“No, do not be ridiculous, Clara.”

She giggled and leaned back in the booth. “You just caught me on my mid-evening nap!” 

I hummed an affirmative. “Tell me, which one is that? The fifth nap of the day of the sixth?”

She giggled and winked. “The sixth! You have a good memory, Eren!”

“Mr. Fernsby. Now, you wouldn’t perhaps know of any feathers around here?”

Clara put a finger to her chin and thought. “Well, there are those feather things that look like snowflakes. You mean those?”

I jumped and turned, wide-eyed, and exclaimed, “Yes! Yes, those! What do you know of them?”

She sighed, smiling, and pressed me back down into the seat. “I’ve been researching them for a bit. I could tell you what I know, if you’d like?” She yawned and wrapped her arm around me, pulling me close to her. “On second thought, maybe tomorrow.”

“No, no you-” I tried to protest, but the soft lighting and music, along with that glass of sherry were having a profound effect on my mind. I yawned after she did, and I nestled close to her - for warmth, though, and nothing else. She told me afterward that I was “a good cuddler,” despite the fact that it absolutely was not cuddling. 

I fell asleep next to her rather swiftly, unfortunately, leaving the conversation about the featherflakes for the following day. I must admit… it wasn’t the most unpleasant end to the day.

Read the previous entry in The Fernsby Journals! Read the following entry in The Fernsby Journals!