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sunsetsandsunshine · 1 year

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~ Ticklish Hands ~

HELLO FELLOW PPL!

THIS FIC IS A GIFT TO THE WONDERFUL @rottmnt-supremacist

Ler: April👩🏾‍🦱💚

Lee: Raph🐢❤️

Warnings: None :)

Summary: Donnie, Leo and Mikey inform April on a little secret Raph has been keeping from her; chaos follows.

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Raph was chilling in his bedroom, listening to music with his headphones on while snuggling his favorite squishmello: Mr. Stripes the Zebra. He was sitting criss-cross applesauce on his red fluffy carpet he put next to his bed a couple days ago.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the side of his curtains. He took off his headphones and put them on his desk. It was most likely one of his siblings…and to be completely honest, was scared for the reason why they would come into his room…not that they would do anything bad of course! It’s just his siblings always found a way to make they’re visits to his room…interesting.

If it was Leo, he probably wanted to show Raph yet another TikTok of the Lightskin Stare trend with Olaf from Frozen that Raph’s sworn he’s seen more times then he’s even breathed. If it was Mikey, he probably wanted to show him another recipe he made. Mikey was getting…creative in the kitchen and wanted to try some different flavors! Like his famous Pickle-Pizza-Chocolate Cake-Ice Cream wrap…sounds delicious, right? If it was Don, he probably was coming in with a 25-26 page slideshow on why Raph should allow him to steal the government's secret stash of uranium…

Don’t ask…

And if it’s April? She probably came in to trash-talk her classmates about how they were just “stuck up rich kids who can’t pull their heads out of their own asses.” Which Raph knows more than 89% of April’s classmates deserve that insult.

Has all those scenarios happened before or is Raph being oddly specific?

Take a guess.

“Come in!” Raph exclaimed, preparing himself for whoever walked into his room.

“Hi Raphie! Your brothers told you your little secret…” April grinned as she went directly in front of Raph, sitting down. Raph cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Wait…what? What secret? Raph doesn’t keep secrets…” The snapper turtle said, putting his finger to his chin and wondering in thought. What secret?

That time he ate all of Mikey’s leftover birthday cake? No…that couldn’t be it. He was caught red-handed by the birthday boy himself for that one. He has the bruises to prove it…

What about when he stole all of April’s nail polish for himself to try? Uh…no, couldn’t be that either. She actually found him in the bathroom trying to paint his nails with her light blue nail polish: Periwinkle. He knows that blue is Leo’s thing but he must admit he did look pretty good! But he does remember having more colors than periwinkle on his nails, and with April’s help he was able to have pretty nice nails. So that can’t be it.

The snapping turtle wondered, what in the actual shell did my brothers tell her? Because if he himself can’t even remember what kinds of secrets he’s told his brothers who knows what they told his elder sister. And judging by that Cheshire grin April had plastered on her face, it was something really funny he did or really embarrassing.

“What did they tell you?” Raph gulped, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. April innocently smiled, cracking her knuckles. “Give me your hand.” April said, reaching out to Raph with one of her hands as if she was grabbing something. The snapping turtle hesitantly put one of his hands in hers as she turned it upward so his palm was facing the ceiling.

“Tell me, Raph. Do your hands happen to be ticklish?” April asked, not even waiting for an answer before she scribbled her fingers over Raph’s palm.

Oh.

those.

little.

SHITS.

Raph was SO going to get them for this later…

“Pfft- Ahahaprihil!” Raph giggled, curling his fingers inside of his palm but only was able to curl them midway as April gently pulled back his fingers, not letting them curl. Raph came out of his sitting position and started squirming; lightly kicking his feet and squirming from left to right. “Stop squirming, Raph. I need to see if this tickles!” April demanded.

“Ihihit dohohoes tihihickle!” Raph yelled, covering his face with his free palm blushing a bit because- really?! Why did she think Raph was a giggling mess right now lightly kicking his feet at her feather-like touch across his palms?

April then lightly started tracing over Raph’s wrist, causing the snapping turtle to throw his head back and cackle, kicking his legs on the floor trying to get his hand out of April’s grip. “AhahaHAPRIL! PleHEASE!” Raph cried, falling down on his shell due to how much he was laughing which gave April an opportunity to climb on him and scratch her fingers along his sides.

Raph clamped his hands over his mouth, not wanting to get April satisfied about his reactions to her tickly touches. His sides weren’t even that ticklish! He’s fine. Pfft, tickling? What’s tickling? It doesn’t tickle at all he’s fine-

April lightly grazed a finger on his shoulders, causing the red banded turtle to let out a girly scream, descending into laughter.

Well, fuck.

“There we go~! There’s my laughy Raphie!” April teased, now scribbling back to Raph’s sides. The snapper mentally cursed himself for even letting himself let his underarms be exposed in a situation like this. Because- it’s April. Not that he would openly admit it but she was probably the best tickler of the family. I mean- Look how much he’s laughing right now!

April started slowly moving up and down Raph’s side; only tickling him with her pointer finger on the both of her hands. “AHAHAPRIL NAHAHO WAHAIT!” Raph squealed, trying to push April’s fingers away from his ribs.

“What are you getting so worked up about, hmm big guy? Oho, you didn’t think I was gonna go…there, did you?” April teased playfully, poking near but nowhere close to Raph’s underarms as the turtle let out loud shrieks at the poking.

“Stop squirming, buddy~! You’re making it really hard to tickle your good spots~!” April smiled, but the tease only worsened the squirming.

“AhaHaPRIL! IHIT TIHIHICKLES! ReeReEhEEheE! PLeheHEASE!” Raph laughed, shaking his head and kicking his feet lightly, trying to get out from April’s hold. April smiled at the childhood nickname Raph said throughout his laughter, chuckling as the snapper turtles face started glowing a bright red. She hasn’t even been tickling him all that long!

“Stop squirming or I’m going to tickle your underarms.” April threatened which caused Raph to immediately stop thrashing and just laugh his heart out, weakly kicking his feet behind April here and there. “YOhohoHOUR’E tihihiHICKLING MEEHEE! Ihi caHAHAN’T hehelp ihit!” Raph whined as April only rolled her eyes in amusement.

Suddenly, the second youngest of the Hamato Clan walked into the room, closing the curtain and walking to April, standing next to her, completely unbothered by his brother getting completely tortured by they’re older sister.

“Hey, April. Do you know where Mikey is? I wanted to show him this meme I found!” Leo giggled, rewatching whatever meme he had pulled up on his phone. “Oh! Mikey said that he was going to go to Baron’s place today, didn’t he tell you?” April said turning, her head to Leo but still tickling the sides of Raph’s ribs, switching between pokes and light scratching to keep him in stitches.

“Ugh! No one ever tells me anything!” Leo groaned, turning his phone off and putting it in his sweatshirt pocket. “Thanks, I’m gonna go bother Dee. See you later, Riri!” Leo chirped, turning around to the exit. “Also, make sure to not kill Raphie over there, okay?” Leo chuckled, opening the curtain and leaving Raph’s room. “I won’t~!” April sang, kneading both of Raph’s thighs behind him.

Raph whined throughout his laughs as he kicked his feet and lightly pushed at April’s hands, trying to get April off of him. “NAhah! StAHAP! AHAHAPRIL!”

“Raph, you literally tower over me, bud. You could EASILY stop me if you wanted to, but here we are~!” April teased, leaning in closer to give Raph a kiss on the cheek and scribbling her hands all over him tummy. “SHUHUT IHIHIT!” The snapper yelled, gripping his fingers on April’s wrists trying to ceases her tickle torture and then she suddenly…stopped?

“What did you just say…?” April asked, looking Raph dead in the eyes as she slowly started making her way up his sides. Then to his ribs. Now hovering over-

Oh no.

Oh. NO.

Raph couldn’t help but immediately start cackling as his sister's fingers hovered over his death spot: his underarms. He could feel the tingly sensations of her fingers slowly getting closer and closer. Raph tried kicking his feet, bucking her off, pushing her shoulders lightly but she did not move an inch.

Oh…Raph was completely SCREWED. In the famous words of his second youngest brother: “Eugh boy…”

“AHAHA! WAHAIT WAHAIT WAHAHAIT! IHIHI’M SOHOHORRY!” Raph tried to reason. He wasn’t a scientist like Donnie but he’s pretty sure there’s a 99.9% chance that April’s going to go for his death spot no matter how many pleas he gives.

“Too little, too late, bud.”

April blew multiple raspberries on the right side of Raph’s neck, so much that he doesn’t even know how April isn’t out of breath yet while also tickling his underarms. But he couldn’t worry about that- he had to worry about not dying by the clutches of his big sister and her tickling hands. And ohmigosh did it tickle a whole lot…

And if things couldn’t get any worse, April started now randomly switching the sides of Raph’s neck where she was giving tickly kisses too; making the snapper scrunch his shoulders and shake his head.

If you know Raph, you know for a FACT that he cannot STAND tickly kisses- it’s the actual death of him. He’s so used to roughhousing (he grew up with 3 little brothers, can you really blame him?) that he’s not used to these feather-like touches. Which makes it tickle so much f*cking more than it should.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” Raph cried, hands still holding wrists and she continued her tickle torture. “Please, what little brother?” April asked, before blowing raspberries on Raph’s tummy. “IHIHI DUHUHUNNO!” He screamed.

“AHAHAPRIL AHAHA! PLEHEASE! IHIHI’M SOHOHORRY! MEHEHERCY!” Raph cried, tears building up in his eyes. April got off Raph, knowing the safe-word and lying down next to him on the fuzzy carpet as he caught his breath. “You okay, big guy?” April asked, turning her head towards her little brother. “Ihi’m fihine, sis.” Raph giggled, as April rubbed the ghost tickles away. She then got up to get Raph a glass of water that was on his desk and gave it to him. “Thahahanks…” Raph chuckled as he drank the water

The two eldest suddenly heard a crash nearby presumably in Donnie’s lab, followed by some yelling and shrieking, and…whirring?

“NARDO GET BACK HERE WITH MY GOGGLES!”

“YOU’LL HAVE TO CATCH ME IF YOU WANT THEM, FEO HERMANO!!!”

April sighed at the recus her other younger brothers were making, pinching the spot between her eyes as Raph erupted into laughter by his sister’s reaction. “We can’t leave those three alone for a second, can we?” April groaned, crossing her arms. “Yeah…” Raph sighed, standing up and taking April by the hand, helping her up. “Besides, I need to get revenge on them anyway for telling you I have ticklish hands anyway…” The snapper said, cracking his knuckles as April only chuckled at the statement.

“And don’t think you’re safe from Raph’s Revenge™, Riri” Raph grinned, poking April in the side causing her to squawk and squirm away from the touch. She glared at Raph before playfully shoving him as they exited his room.

“Oho, I’d like to see you’d try, Raphie.”

——————————————————————— 📢❗️LEE RAPH! LEE RAPH! LEE RAPH! LEE RAPH❗️📢

ALSO…POSSIBLE LEE APRIL FIC??? 👀

As always, hope you all enjoyed!

#MANSJWJWWNAJJA #AYEEEEEE #TO FICS IN A ROOOOWWWWW #AHHHH #I think I finally know how to use Tumblr now #Lee! Raph #Ler! April #Rottmnt tickle #Tmnt tickle #Rottmnt tickle fic #SFW tickle #Raph deserves all the tickles 2023 #This applies to every version of Raph just so we’re clear ❤️❤️❤️#Also the boys nickname for April is “Riri” bc I simply said so #Also for anyone that doesn’t know #“Feo” means ugly in Spanish #So when Donnie was chasing Leo and Leo said “Feo hermano” he said “Ugly brother”#Ik a little bit of Spanish from my Dad’s side of the fam + Im taking classes rn at school

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serendipetite · 1 year

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Gridlock

genre/warnings: slice of life, famous myg, teacher reader, fluff and angst, spats, min yoongi is a little shit. ft. namjoonie best advice giver. no smut.

author’s note: this is just a little slice of life oneshot, mostly for me to get back into the swing of writing again. it’s been forever, and i’m a little rusty so please forgive me.

word count: 3287

You couldn’t even remember what the fight had been about initially. Probably something petty, something insignificant. But you were both nothing if not stubborn, so what had probably genuinely started out as a mild spat, had quickly turned into the two of you off pouting in separate areas on the apartment, neither one ready to give just yet. To apologize meant to surrender, and maybe it was a bit toxic, but you just couldn’t give him that satisfaction. Not yet anyway. Let him stew in it, for a bit. It wasn’t like he was hammering down the door to apologize to you either.

You decided to settle for some self-care. He’d locked himself in his office working, so why not give yourself the evening. You headed to the bathroom, grabbing your softest robe, lit the candles on the counter, poured some lavender and lilac bubbe bath into the tub, and turned on the hot water. Steam filled the bathroom and the smell of fresh cut lavender and lilacs, as well as soft notes of vanilla and musk flooded your senses. You shed your clothes from the day, relieved to wriggle out of your almost-too tight skinny jeans. Kicking them aside, you dipped into the tub, allowing the hot water to hug you and soothe your aching muscles. It’d been a long day, and you’d been on your feet for most of it. The usual lunch monitor had called in sick, and instead of enjoying your chicken salad in the comfort and quiet of the teacher’s lounge, you had to skip your lunch, and the small moment of reprieve off your aching feet to patrol a cafeteria of about two hundred fifth graders. All you’d wanted to do was come home and relax with him after a long day. Life, and the stubborn shit you were head over heels for, happened to have other plans.

The fight.

It was coming back to you now in moments of keys falling to a table, smells of burnt chicken, and the pulsing sound of blood in your ears. It’d started pretty much the moment he’d walked in the door. He’d asked you what was for dinner, as he’d tossed the keys onto the entry way table. You’d just finished trying a new air fryer recipe — an air fryer recipe that had consisted of chicken burnt to a char on the outside, and raw in the middle. You were never going to fucking trust TikTok recipes again after this. You’d been almost in tears as you’d dumped the ruined chicken into the trash and thrown the air fryer basket in the sink. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you’d said. “Okay…” to his credit, he did seem as though he was trying to read the room a bit. “How about I order us a pizza then?” He’d meandered into the kitchen in time to smell the burnt chicken and his face had pulled into a grimace. “Oh yeah, pizza would be much better.” “We shouldn’t have to order a pizza! I should be able to handle making one simple meal for us!” You’d yelled. Okay…so maybe the common thread here was you. You yelling. You being impatient. You thinking what a horrible home-maker you were and how he deserved much more than burnt chicken or pizza after a long day of work. You’d felt like a complete failure. The TikTok girlies could all successfully make delicious meals for their men after a long day. And sure, you knew Yoongi would never expect you to or require you to do so, but you still wanted to. It was an act of love, in your eyes. An act of love you consistently seemed to fail at. Along with the exhaustion from the day, you were emotionally drained.

“Okay…” Yoongi had said, “Well, I’m just going to go get some more work done. Let me know what you decide.”

You winced, adding more bubble bath to the tub under the running stream, as you remembered the next moments.

“Oh yeah, go hide in your office, that’s what you always do!”

Jesus….

“Excuse me? What do you want me to do here, Y/N? I offered to order us pizza, you bit my head off. I can’t just conjure up a meal. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day. Either we’ll order pizza or not. But clearly I’m not being much help standing here right now.”

“Fine, go to your office then.”

“Fine. But at least let me grab a granola bar if dinner is a bust.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“What? What do you want me to do here?” Yoongi had grabbed a granola bar out of the wooden salad bowl that served as your snack food bowl. He rolled his eyes pushing past you to head to the bedroom to change out of his clothes from the day. You’d let yourself get more angry and frustrated as you began to clean up the mess from the ruined chicken. That eye roll and shoulder bump had been the tipping point. You’d found yourself slamming cabinet doors and tossing utensils into the sink when Yoongi had reappeared to grab a soda from the fridge. He too slammed the fridge shut and you’d both glowered at each other. “Whatever!” He’d sighed, tossing his hands up and heading to disappear to his office in the back of the apartment.

That was two hours ago. Neither one of you made a move to apologize. Now, you felt the stress of the day melt off under the aromas of lilac and lavender, and your mind was left clearer and calmer. You had been a bit harsh. He’d started out just trying to be helpful, and then tried to stay out of your way, clearly sensing you were upset. But then to lock himself away in his office for the past two hours when all you needed was him to hold you after a hard day…everything just felt overwhelming. You wanted to apologize, but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. And it was clear he wasn’t about to apologize either. For It felt ridiculous and immature. You were both better than this. You both had a stronger relationship than this. But you also knew you were both stubborn as hell and unless somebody did something, you could see this silent treatment carrying over into the next day and the next. You wondered if the two of you still wouldn’t be speaking when you crawled into bed that night. Knowing him, he’d lock himself in that office way after you’d gone to bed, only joining you after you were gone to the world. This was not the night you’d had in mind when you’d been struggling through the day. The only thing that had helped you hold your sanity when stopping Billy Jacobs from flinging peas at Bobby Deaver, and kept you composed when you had to call Aimee Ashar’s mother about her sixth missed homework assignment was getting to come home to Yoongi. You’d imagined the new chicken dish you’d seen on TikTok the night before, eaten off TV trays with you tucked into Yoongi’s side and an episode of Succession playing on TV. You’d imagined him getting up and doing the dishes, and coming back to kiss away the stress of the day.

Now here you were, alone in your bathtub and pouting, feeling like the character in one of the toxic romance novels you kept by your bedside. They were entertaining, okay! But you knew you were nothing like the couples in those books. You and Yoongi were a united front, open and honest at every turn. There was no huge scandal of cheating or divorce looming above your heads. You respected one another and were committed to one another deeply. But you were also both hopelessly stubborn. You knew the two of you would be fine after awhile, after you both had a good pout about it first. The question was, how long was awhile?

After letting yourself soak a few more minute, you stood up, rinsing your body off with the plastic Rainforest Cafe cup you kept on the side of the tub. Wrapping yourself up in your robe and doing your skincare, you decided it was best to head out. You couldn’t just hide out in the tub forever. You were surprised to see Yoongi on the couch when you came out, glass of Johnnie Walker Blue in his hand, and Succession playing on the TV.

What the hell?

“Do I have any hot water left at all for my shower tonight?” He asked, raising a brow.

“One cold shower won’t kill you. You started Succession?”

“Yeah, wasn’t sure you wanted it to watch it tonight.”

You knew him well enough to know when he was being a petty little shit. It almost made your lip twitch in a smile. Almost. Had he been this snarky with his best friend Namjoon, you might have even had to hold back a giggle. It was an entirely different story when it was directed at you, however. No matter how endearing your pouty little grump of a boyfriend was.

“Besides,” Yoongi said, lifting the Johnnie Walker to his lips in a poor attempt to hide his own mildly amused smirk, “Logan gives me enough of a headache.”

Your jaw fell open and you had half a mind to smack him with the pillow he was currently hugging to his chest.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Shh. This is a good part.”

“I can’t believe you!”

Yoongi ducked his head behind his pillow, and you knew for sure he was hiding a smile. God you were in love with an absolute menace, weren’t you? You huffed, marching back to the en-suite master bedroom and called the one person who knew how to navigate Yoongi even better than yourself.

“What did he do?” Namjoon said before even saying hello.

“What do you mean?” You frowned, hopping up onto your king size bed, you tucked your legs underneath you and settled in for whatever the heck this conversation was going to be.

“Well, I’m assuming you’re calling because you got into a fight, right? I knew he’d left the studio in a mood! We spent all day working on this damn track only to be told we needed to scrap the whole thing and start over. Yoon was livid. So…what did you two fight about?”

Sighing into the phone, you propped yourself up on your pillow and told Namjoon the entire story. “It wasn’t even like we had an actual fight. It was just…like picking at each other. And now he’s out there watching Succession - after off-handedly comparing me to Logan, mind you, and I’m in here - talking to you…”

“You know this whole thing could be solved if you both just talked, right?”

“I am aware of this, yes.”

“But?”

“I don’t know. He’s not making an effort to talk to me, so I feel like why should I bother if he’s not?”

Namjoon sighed into the receiver, “Y/N, you know Yoongi and I have been friends for almost fifteen years now, right? And there isn’t much in this world I won’t do for him. But he’s being stubborn and so are you, and you both just need to get past this weird ‘I’m not apologizing first’ thing and just rip off the band-aid and be done with it. Silent treatments and awkwardly picking and prodding at each other is not the proper and mature way to handle this, and you know that. He does too. He’s just…pouting. He’d kill me if he heard me say that, but that’s what he does. He pouts. And he gets stroppy and throws his version of a tantrum. You have to sometimes be the bigger person. I know there’s days where I just want to throttle him, but I don’t. Instead, I let him have his space for a bit to cool down, and then I go talk to him. Sometimes that means me apologizing. Sometimes that means me calmly calling him out on his shit. And sometimes that means me just pouring us two glasses of whiskey and telling him he’s gotta listen to this song I found. Just talk to him, Y/N. He’s being a pain, but that’s what he wants. And I’m sure that’s what you want too.”

You knew Namjoon was right. He’d been friends with Yoongi longer than you’d known the two of them. Heck, their friendship had gone longer and survived more than many of your past relationships prior. You knew if there was anyone that knew how to navigate Yoongi and his moods, it was Kim Namjoon.

“Alright. I guess I’ll head back out there and try to make the peace.”

“Good. And if he gets to be too much of a pain, just call me up and I’ll come over and knock some sense into him.”

“You absolutely would 100% never do that.”

Namjoon laughed into the receiver, “You’re right. But the sentiment stands.”

You thanked him, ended the call, and tossed your phone onto the nightstand. Sighing, you stood from the bed, and decided to put your pajamas on first before heading back out to the living room. This was a conversation you might need to be fully clothed for. After changing into your most comfortable pajama bottoms, you grabbed Yoongi’s discarded under shirt from the hamper. He loved you in his clothes, and wearing his shirts at night was one of your favorite bits of your bedtime routine. You loved being encompassed in him in that way, breathing in the aroma of his cologne and something so distinctly Yoongi — smoke and musk and fresh rain. You tugged his shirt on over your head, and headed out to the living room.

Yoongi was still on the couch, Succession long over by now, and a baseball game was now playing on the screen. Yoongi was flicking through his phone, not even glancing up at the television. Taking a breath, you walk over to the couch and sat down on your usual seat beside him, tucking your legs to the side, and leaning close, but not touching. Yoongi still hadn’t glanced up from his phone, thumbs lazily flicking over the screen. There were so many things you wanted to say, had prepared to say, but now, sitting her beside him, your mind seemed blank. You wanted to apologize, wanted him to apologize. Wanted to make this whole mess of a night right.

“Hi,” you say.

The phone is set aside, placed upside down on the arm of the couch. “Hi.” His arm goes to your shoulders, pulling you to his side. You feel your whole body melt against his, the weight of his arm over your shoulders the comfort you’d longed for all day.

“You know what I’ve realized tonight?”

“Hmm?” Yoongi raised a brow, looking down at you curiously.

“We are both too damn stubborn for our own good.”

His head falls back against the back of the couch as he lets out a laugh. “Babe, please tell me you aren’t just now realizing this.”

You swat at his chest, “I’m being serious. You know, I sat in that bathroom forever expecting you to walk in and apologize.”

“Really? I was sitting out here waiting for you to walk out and explain what the hell happened tonight.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. What a mess.

“We’re a mess.”

“We are,” Yoongi chuckles before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “So, want to tell me what happened tonight? What’s got my baby so upset?”

You tell him everything. You tell him how stressful your day was, and how all you wanted to do was come home to him and have a romantic night with him. You tell him of the TikTok recipe for the chicken, and how it burnt, and how you felt so incredibly useless. You tell him how you snapped at him, how you took out your anger and frustrations onto him, and when all you wanted him to do was to realize you needed him, he retreated. You tell him of sitting in your bubble bath, realizing how it wasn’t fair of you to lash out at him. You tell him how hurt you were that he didn’t come seeking you out. How hurt you were that he didn’t notice how badly in that moment you needed him. And by the time you’ve finished, he’s held you even tighter in his arms, has pressed more kisses into your hair, each one more relevant than the last.

“Oh baby…I am so, so sorry. I do that sometimes, retreat when things get messy. I wait for the smoke to clear before I come out and make my peace. I do that with everything. My parents. Namjoon. You. And I need to work on that a bit. We’re a partnership, and you needed me tonight. I shouldn’t have disappeared into the office like I did. I shouldn’t have just thrown my hands up and walked away like I did. I’m sorry your day was so stressful, and I’m sorry it’s taken me until now to hold you in my arms and kiss it away.”

“We need to work on our communication skills. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you.”

Yoongi nods, pulling you closer to his side. “I shouldn’t have been so quick to brush you aside like that. It’s been a hard day for me too, and that’s no excuse.”

“Tell me about work today,” you say.

And he does. He tells you about the song he and Namjoon poured so much into, only to be told to scrap the whole thing and start over. He tells you about how frustrated he feels and how terrified he is of failing. He tells you everything from his day, just as you’ve told him everything from yours. And by the end of it, you’re both holding onto one another, pressing kisses into each other’s skin.

“I can’t believe you watched Succession without me.”

“I can rewind it.”

“And that you pretty much compared me to Logan Roy! Asshole!” You dig your fingers into his side, and he jolts with a start, swatting at your hands before you can strike a second time.

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, and you let the sound echo through you, feeling the rumble of it against your body as he reaches around you to grab for the remote, “That was a pretty low blow, huh?”

“ ‘twas.”

“Tell me how to make it up to you,” his bottom lip juts out at you, eyes going full Bambi.

“You can be in charge of dinner.”

Yoongi stands, pressing another kiss to your head before making his way to the kitchen to scrounge something up. As much as he’d never admit it, he’s magic in the kitchen. And after you queue up the episode, you lean back against the couch to watch him putter around the kitchen. He talks to himself as he sets out ingredients and gets to work. This is one of his love languages, preparing a meal for someone he loves. He’s meticulous about it as well, putting such care into every movement. You feel your heart swell as he carefully begins to rinse the vegetables in the sink softly humming one of the songs he’d written you months ago, and before he can even set the veggies on the towel to dry, you’re there, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“I changed my mind,” you say., pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “We’ll make dinner tonight together.”

#bts imagines #yoongi imagines #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #yoongi imagine #bts imagine #interlude writes

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swampstew · 9 months

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KIᒪᒪEᖇᑕOOK - ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ 7

Welcome to Raven’s Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight’s story. Rated Mature for language. Minors DNI.

TikTok – KillerCook’s live stream has ended but you can still watch the video. Check out their page and make sure you turn on notification so you don’t miss another one!

Title: Brick Oven Pizza Description: My blue haired assistant and I make some pizza. Easy enough recipe that even a child can do it. What’s your favorite pizza topping? Wrong answers only!

*Press Play*

“Hey there everyone! KillerCook here with one of my best buds – you all know him as FlamingHot420 – I refer to him as just Heat. Say hi Heat!” Killer waved to the camera, gently nudging a flustered Heat to do the same.

Abandoning the loc he had been twisting nervously in his hands, Heat dropped one and raised the other to say hello. Both hands behind his back as he let Killer do his introduction.

Heat’s stance allowed for his shoulders and biceps to be more pronounced, not on purpose of course, but noticeable all the same. The light shined on the two sets of thick, black thorn tattoos that ran down his arms, connecting to the ones that wrapped around his throat in three coils. His long, black muscle tank top made his muscles pop, though the fabric covered far too much of his figure as it draped over his pants. The way he was standing did not allow for viewers to appreciate his figure from the side.

“Today, Heat is my assistant as we make brick oven pizzas. Don’t fret though, Kid will be here later to taste test still.”

Heat rolled his eyes, “Killer remind me, is this your social media account or his?”

Killer coughed, “To be determined. Moving on! Heat would you mind telling us why we’re making the ‘zzas this way instead of the traditional oven method?”

The helmeted man walked away from the counter to set up the prepping area in the background as Heat spoke, albeit still nervously, to the audience.

“When using a brick oven, the confined space and coals bring out a smokey and distinct, sweet flavor as it cooks the pizza. Roasting it over fire helps bring out the sugars in the dough and sauce, making the crust and toppings nice and crispy when fully done.”

Walking back to the camera and microphone, Killer added, “Obviously we didn’t think it was practical to build and house a brick oven in our kitchen. So we built one outside! With it being disgustingly humid with a chance of casual thunderstorms during the summer, we’ve opted to create our pies inside before taking them out back to bake. Being inside is the only safe space from mosquitos.”

Heat nodded in agreement, “They always target me for some reason!”

Pinging notifications went off and both men leaned in together to read them.

“CalzonesAreMid: says, ‘Brick oven pizza is elite. You’ll have to post photos of the set up!’ Thank you, and we will post follow up content this week to showcase the food and the oven. I’m real proud of the work the four of us did,” Killer beamed privately.

Heat cleared his throat, “ItsEtymologyOClock: says, ‘Aww Heat they target you because you must have sweet blood!’” he blushed. “Actually, there are scientifically backed reasons why mosquitoes target certain people and not others, but I don’t remember all of what it said. I do remember that only female mosquitos bite and its because they’re seeking protein in order to lay their eggs. It’s creepy, violating, and fascinating,” he mused. “What?” he asked when he noticed Killer’s head tilt at him.

“This isn’t ‘Heat’s Weird Facts About Bugs hour,’ it’s KillerCook time. Let’s shift from sweet tasting blood to marinara sauce.”

Tying his apron behind his back, Killer’s chino capri pants hugged his rounded bottom as he tightened the strings over his hips. Wearing a V-neck cut shirt, short blond body hair peeped from the free space, while his muscles strained against the cotton material. As he pulled his hair back, his arms bulged with his movements; his scarred arm seemed bulkier on camera, especially as he expertly twisted his wrist and wrapped his hair into a massive bun. Placing a hair net over it, Killer shot finger guns to the camera.

“_LickMeImurLollipop asks: What’s cooking good looking?’” Heat stifled a laugh behind his gloved hand. He too had tied his hair back into a messy bun, his locs held in place with multiple hair bands and two hair nets. “Oh, they also added: ‘Heat baby don’t pout. You’re looking immaculate as always. When I die, I hope you hold my hand on my way to hell.’ What makes you think you’re going to hell, Lollipop? A sweetie like you is definitely going to heaven,” Heat shocked the audience with his smoothness. “Killer and Kid aren’t the only ones with rizz,” he huffed at the replies he received.

“No but you definitely learned it from us,” Killer chuckled. “For today, we’re going to use a simple base recipe, keep in mind we make our own dough. You can use store bought, I won’t judge – much. But for those interested in learning the traditional way, don’t look away. We’re gonna pound this dough into perfection.”

It was Heat’s turn to chuckle, “We’re also going to beat the marinara sauce until its nice and smooth, perfectly balanced with spices. Should I showcase the ingredients?”

With Killer’s approval, Heat began showing off the ingredients and brands used to the camera. Distilled water, dry yeast, salt, flour, extra virgin olive oil, a variety of cheeses, oregano, black pepper, tomatoes, and fresh basil.

“If you don’t have extra virgin olive oil, you can use born-again virgin olive oil,” Killer quipped as he mixed the dough ingredients in a steel bowl. That made Heat choke while he prepared the sauce in a separate bowl.

“Now, technically you’re supposed to let the dough rise and set before use. But we don’t have an hour to wait on that so—” Killer explained as Heat put away the dough bowls in the fridge, exchanging them with three bowls that had blue and white checkered cloth covers over them. “We made these last night! We’re going to flatten these down using flour to prevent sticking, and then we’ll pile on the base before we garnish the living shit out of these with toppings. We’re making 3 pizzas, each one with different toppings that we enjoy.”

Heat pulled out vegetables, meats, and more cheese than should be legally allowed in one household over the countertop while Killer pulled out three flat pizza stones that would be inserted in the oven.

“I like pineapples on mine and I don’t want to hear a damn word about it,” Heat said. “Anyone that disagrees is just a hater following the opinions of others. Don’t be like that,” he complained, popping a few slices of the fruit into his mouth, letting out a soft but not inaudible grunt of approval.

Killer pulled out a small ceramic bowl from the fridge, “I like to add macaroni and cheese on mine. I don’t give two shits what anyone thinks about it. I live my life the way I want.”

“And of course, Kid likes his loaded with meat and vegetables. I’m pretty sure we make him a plate of just that with a side of crust,” Heat chopped up slices of pepperoni, sausage, and ham while Killer did the same with the other meats and veggies.

“Yeah, for his we make the crust extra thick, and we also stuff the edges with extra cheese. We love Kid but we also love him more when he’s passed out from a food coma. The silence? Truly golden,” Killer’s shoulder shook as he quietly laughed.

“Shut the hell up,” a grumpy looking Kid came into the camera’s view. His demeanor piqued when he smelled the aromas coming from the countertop.

Both cooks shook, Heat more audible in his laughter, as they prepared their pizzas. Slathering the crusts with a mix of butter, garlic, and parmesan for extra pizzaz. Taking their pizza stones, they laid their creations down and covered them up with plastic saran wrap to keep them bug free.

“Time to throw them in the oven. Kid can you please take the camera so we can show our viewers the oven we all worked so hard to make?”

Kid had been in the background nonchalantly posing in his tight fitting gym clothes. Wearing compressed pants that looked like leggings and a tight, red muscle shirt, his muscles gleamed under the lights in the kitchen. Impatiently changing his stance as he waited while also doing the most to steal the attention of the viewers.

“Impure_Thots: says, ‘Mama Mia, can I have him as a topping?’” Killer shook his head. “We excuse a lot of shady things, but I draw the line at cannibalism!”

Kid barked out laughter as he took the camera and followed his housemates to their massive backyard. Unlike the last video where they had a pool party, the yard looked almost too big for just the three men. The pool looked refreshing as the water reflected under the sunshine.

Holding the camera, the redhaired punk pointed it to show the audience a wide, quaint looking brick oven. It stood where the tables during their pool party once stood. It was a brilliant red color with double wide black steel doors. Hooks were hammered to the side that held cleaning tools, and a massive wooden paddle – a pizza peel, to help place the pizzas in and out of the fire. Underneath the doors was an open space that was already filled with firewood and coal. In fact, it was so stuffed that it didn’t look like anything could be moved or added to the fire pit.

“We made this oven to be able to hold four pizzas at a time. Work smarter not harder,” Kid announced proudly.

“Actually, when baking pizzas you’re supposed to A) have the fire be burning at least 20-40 minutes before sticking your pies in, and B) the fire should be situated to the side not directly under the pizzas. This is to help keep an eye on how its cooking instead of heating it up too quickly and resulting in burnt pizzas. Without some room for cold air circulation, you’ll end up with a less than desirable pizza. Burnt to a crisp without properly cooking evenly,” Killer explained.

“I hate being kept waiting. Fire them shits up Heat!” Kid barked.

“NO WAIT!” Killer screeched.

The camera seemed to freeze in place as a flashing brightness flooded the view. Nothing could be seen and all that could be heard was panic and unintelligible shouting. The camera itself stopped recording and a small glitch occurred before a buzzing static took over. After a minute, a screen card was layered over the video with a message that read: Idiotic technicalities. Please standby.

Several minutes later, the recording picked up and the message faded away. When the camera’s focus was cleared, Killer, Heat, and Kid stood front and center with folded arms. Each muscled man was covered in grime and soot. Killer’s helmet had distinct burn marks while Kid and Heat’s shirts were marked with singed holes.

None of them looked pleased.

“SO! What did we learn?!” Killer snapped at his housemates.

“Don’t listen to Boss,” Heat muttered.

“Shut up!” Kid’s face flushed red with embarrassment. Killer swatted the back of his head. “Listen to the head chef when it comes to cooking,” the Captain finally admitted, scowl engrained in his face.

“That’s right,” Killer scoffed. “Sorry for the disruption during the stream. We obviously had to deal with an inferno that has since been put out and cleaned. I know it may come off weird doing another stream for all of 10 minutes but we still wanted to do the taste test. We’ll clean the live up in post-editing before I upload the video on my channel. Now without further ado,” Killer turned around to the kitchen island table.

From the backside, his pants and shirt were burnt so severely it looked like he walked through hell and back. Heat and Kid were no better off as they shifted around the kitchen to take seats. With a comically large pizza cutter, Killer sliced the pizzas into shareable portions, bringing the camera closer to show off each one.

His macaroni pizza was lathered in molten cheese, crispy burnt edges on the top of the noodles and crust while steam curled around the top. Heat’s pizza looked like it was sweltering with the way the fresh pineapple chunks oozed with juice that leaked from the pulpy flesh. Kid’s pizza was truly a monstrosity. It was not winning any beauty contests and it surely wouldn’t be able to hold up in his hand but he tried anyway.

Using his metal prosthetic as a plate, he carried the heavy slice to his mouth where he took a massive bite. Cheesy ropes pulled from the crust to his mouth as he dragged the slice away from his face to chew.

“Shiiiiiit,” Kid crowed between his stuffed cheeks. “A bit hot but godsdamn that’s a good ‘zza! You could feed a village with just one slice!” His throat bulged as he swallowed the food. “The vegetables literally popped with juice and flavor as I bit into them. The meats create a savory taste that blend well with all the toppings. If you want something to fill you up quickly, this is the pie to eat.”

Heat was munching on his slice as he nodded in agreement, “It’s very good. The sweetness from the pineapple makes for a pleasant contrast to the saltiness of the cheese and garlic. It’s simple, crunchy, and daring.”

Killer bobbed his head up and down as he listened to his taste testers. Pushing slices of his pizza to them as they each finished their respective slices.

“Hmmm a little heavy on the carbs side but that doesn’t detract from the taste,” Kid said through another full mouth. “It’s fun though, don’t see pasta on pizza often but of course that’s your style, bud. It’s a good pie, I give it a 10/10.”

“I’d give it an 11/10,” Heat argues. “I don’t think you’re giving enough credit to the blended cheese here. I mean we have sharp and white cheddar, mozzarella, gorgonzola, parmesan, AND goat cheese! It’s the ultimate cheesy blend! This is perfect for a heavy lunch that’ll knock you right out.”

“Ultra cheesy, juicy, crispy, crunchy, and savory. That hits all the benchmarks when making a delicious pizza,” Killer began to wrap up the episode. “Can’t wait to dig in myself but first I need to trash my ruined clothes and double check that my hair hasn’t been harmed. If it has, well let’s just say someone’s gonna die. Tune in next time when I make something from back home that we all love - Cranachan. It’s easy to prepare especially in a group setting, and like everything else I make, slays. This has been Faffaffaffa-Food with Killer.”

End of video.

Bonus: The comment section

Unprofessional_Cook: My favorite pizza topping is Chipotle Cajun shrimp with a guacamole base. What say you, Chef? KillerCook: I say, I’m calling the police. You are a menace to society and you must be stopped.

J0ker: Is a fire the reason why our favorite punk has no eyebrows? PunkNeverDied69: Fuck – and I cannot stress this enough – all the way off.

305_Til.I.Die: Ok but like…what happened? What caused the fireball? FlamingHot420: Poor judgment.

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

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insecure-bookworm · 2 years

Link

a pizza recipe for all you mentally ill weirdos

p.s. it’s less than 200 calories per pizza

im going to try to make it tonight

#low calorie #low cal diet #low cal meal #low cal recipe #low cal lunch #low cal dinner #low cal #low calorie diet #low calorie meal #low calorie recipe #low calorie lunch #low calorie dinner #ana meal #ana dinner #ana lunch #ana recipe

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softlyspector · 2 years

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMNs8LxuE/?k=1

what would be the reaction In moonboys?

Tiktok is someone overloading a spoonful of pasta sauce with salt and asking their partner to try it

Steven:

Can't really hide his reaction, chokes on all the salt just a little bit before he recovers and realizes what he's just done and feels a bit guilty. Steven really tries not to lie to you and so he hedges, mouth dry from all the salt, and tells you it certainly has an interesting flavor. "It's an unusual flavor, darling. Still nice though! Mind if I took a look at your recipe?" Cue Steven trying to subtly help you make in un-salty.

Marc:

Poker face, humming calmly as he pretends to think anything other than salt salt salt. Eventually, he says, "Tastes great, baby. Maybe just a little bit less salt." Tries to help you out, suggesting adding an acid to undercut the salt.

Jake:

Gags. Tells you its way too fucking salty. Suggests scrapping the whole thing immediately to go get pizza instead. "Did you dump the whole fuckin' container in there?"

#bec talks #moon knight #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader

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foreverrandomwritings · 1 year

Note

ൠ ◉ & ♡ for fanboy/mickey please?

🚨!!!18+ in the middle!!!🚨

My sweet cinnamon roll of a husband!😍

ൠ Random Headcanon

~We’re going with ♒️ Cooking/Food Headcanon for this.

~So onto the food!!

~He grew up with authentic homemade Mexican food.

~He will not go to a Mexican restaurant.

~He has however found a little food truck that is close to his dad and Abuelas food.

~Smelled it one day when he was on a jog and couldn’t resist it.

~He has the recipes from his Abulea and sometimes he attempts to make it but it never tastes just right.

~His go to breakfast is not at all healthy.

~He will literally eat like pop tarts or a granola bar or just a protein shake.

~Lunch however is usually healthy.

~Fruit, salad, steak, chicken, fish, vegetables, rice etc.

~He will sometimes grab a little debbie cake or candy bar or whatever from a vending machine if he has a bit of a sweet tooth at lunch.

~Dinner will normally be sushi, wings, pizza, something home cooked or whatever.

~He keeps it spontaneous.

~If he has a significant other though the man will love to cook for them and I know that for a fact.

~His go to snacks is normally like peanut butter crackers or carrots and peanut butter or celery and peanut butter.

~A lot of peanut butter okay?

~He drinks a lot of water. Like never drinks anything besides water unless it’s at the Hard Deck or occasionally with dinner.

◉ Any other question of your choosing

~I’m gonna choose ✿ Sex Headcanon for this one.

~Ughhhh. Just the thought of sex with my husband makes me weak in the knees.

~Mickey is a switch first off.

~Likes to be called good boy or sir.

~The man prefers to be more of a sub though.

~Will beg you to use him however you feel.

~Begs and pleads for you to ride his face.

~Will be a sobbing, red, tired, stuttering, puddle in bed.

~He will have 0 brain cells left but will have a dobby fucked out smile on his face.

~Likes being tied up and edged.

~Sports the marks you leave on him proudly.

~Tells you how much he loves you.

~Will love to hold your hand while you’re on top.

~Or whenever he’s on top.

~Will whimper and groan while slipping in and out of you.

~Puts his forehead on yours. Sweat sticking together as he’s praising you for taking him so well.

~If he’s being more dominate he’ll be into slight breath play.

~Will have you choke on his cock over and over again.

~A hand around your throat lightly or pushing your head down into the pillow or mattress while he takes you from behind.

~Will ask you repeatedly if you’re okay though.

~The man’s loves role play okay?

~You absolutely will not change my mind on that.

~Aftercare is super important to the both of you.

♡ Romantic Headcanon

~This man is a fucking swooner.

~Complete fucking simp for his significant other.

~Daily good morning texts when he’s at work before you’re even awake.

~Writes to you from the sea.

~Jumps at every chance he has to FaceTime you, call you, email you or anything.

~Forehead kisses, kisses to the back of your hand, kisses on your head, kisses to the cheeks.

~Silly kinda romantic.

~Likes tickle fights, fake wrestling, throwing flour on each other, dunking each other in the pool, throwing ice on each other in the shower etc.

~He will do just about every tiktok trend he can find.

~Dad jokes galore.

~Will be number 1 hype man.

~Begs for you to take him along when you go shopping.

~Wants to go literally everywhere with you.

~Gets a manicure when you do.

~Rants to his Abuela about you all the fucking time.

~Would love it if you’d go to cons with him.

~Especially if you’d dress up as well.

~Would genuinely be the sweetest fucking cinnamon roll ever.

~Can you tell I love him?

Tags(open): @sylviebell @wkndwlff @angelbabyange

Headcanon Ask Game

#love fanboy #Mickey fanboy Garcia headcanon #Mickey Garcia headcanon #fanboy headcanon #headcanon ask game #top gun maverick headcanon #Mickey Garcia smut #fanboy smut

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indestructibleheart · 1 year

Text

for @dinnfameron, here’s the first scene of the fic that may or may not be called Statues in the Stone:

✨✨✨✨

The first envelope arrives on a Wednesday.

David dips his hand into the mailbox, hoping to find the small parcel carrying the face cream he’d ordered, but, instead, he produces a manilla envelope addressed to himself. There’s no return address — just a stamp — and something about it settles uncomfortably in his stomach. It reminds David of that time he’d received an S.O.S. in the mail from Alexis, back when she’d been held by the Yakuza in Tokyo. That’s not their life anymore, and he knows that, but he still feels a rush of relief when he steps back into the house and finds Alexis scrolling through her phone on the couch.

It’s started feeling more normal recently. That is, having a house — not a mansion, not a motel suite, but a reasonably sized, two-story home in Toronto. It’s not strange anymore to find his sister on their leather sectional, watching videos on TikTok. To check the mail in the evenings. To roll his eyes at his parents over coffee. To take a stab at Buzzfeed recipes in the kitchen (and order pizza when it doesn’t work out).

Because it’s been six months since they sold Schitt’s Creek and moved to the city.

That’s six months since David was handed the one thing he’d been denied his whole life on a silver platter — his family, consistently in one space — and the opportunity to get back on his own two feet. He’s started painting again. Sketching. Journaling. David, for all intents and purposes, has the life he’s always secretly craved… and, yet, none of it has filled the hollowness in the center of his chest. He still feels like he’s constantly clawing at it, like a scab, and searching for the one thing that’ll fill the echoing, empty space.

His moisturizer arriving on time won’t give that to him, but, like… It’d help.

“Anything for me?” Alexis asks, only briefly looking away from the screen.

David shakes his head, wandering to the kitchen counter and ripping open the envelope with morbid curiosity.

What falls out is… not what he expects.

They’re photos — photos of David, specifically: huddled closely with Stevie in the lobby of the old motel and, alone, standing in front of some random store. There’s one of him and Alexis at Christmas, and another of their entire family and Stevie in front of the motel. But none of those are as compelling as the photo of David and a man he doesn’t recognize, wearing tuxedos in front of an ivy backdrop. That one knocks the wind right out of his chest.

It’s not the unfamiliar man, nor the suits, nor the ivy curtains that startle him, but their smiles. They’re absolutely blinding. And David knows, with depressing certainty, that he’s never smiled like that in his life.

Not once.

“What the fuck?” he asks the empty kitchen.

Alexis rounds the corner, twisting her hair into a bun on the top of her head as she walks. “What’s that?” she asks, but she doesn’t wait before taking the photos from his hands. Her face goes on a journey from mildly amused (“I didn’t know you were this close with the motel girl!”) to genuinely confused (“I don’t remember taking these?”) and all the way to super weirded out: “David, who is this cute little button-face and why does it look like you two, like, just got married or something?”

“I have no fucking idea,” he says, watching as she flips the photo over in her hands.

His sister raises a brow. “This says ‘September 2019,’” she points out, waving the last photo around like a polaroid. “That’s, uh, two years from now.”

David swipes the picture back from her hands. “I don’t understand.”

“Looks like you got a present from the fu-ture, David,” she chirps, too enthusiastic to be anything but mocking.

“That’s not a thing.”

“Mmm, it kinda looks like a thing.”

David flails his hands. “Well, it’s not.” He huffs. “It’s obviously a prank or something. Maybe Stevie is, like, actually a sociopathic stalker and she’s still mad at me for leaving or whatever. These could be photoshopped.”

“Yeah,” Alexis says dubiously. “That sounds realistic.”

He sweeps the photos back into the envelope and tries to forget about it. At least, he tells himself he’s going to forget about it.

Nobody needs to know that David tip-toes down the stairs after everyone has gone to bed and takes the wedding photo back out. His thumb traces against the line of his own smile and his chest hurts.

What must it be like to be that happy?

David, of course, recognizes himself in the photo — it’s, like, clearly his face — but there’s something unfamiliar in his eyes. In his smile. In the way he’s clinging to this mystery man like he’s perfectly comfortable leaning on him. The hollow pit in his chest spreads a little wider, like a crack in a glass windshield. This picture, so much more than the others, feels impossible, but… he has never wanted something more in his entire life. He aches for this version of David Rose. Happy. Loved. Whole.

He stuffs it back in the envelope when he realizes he’s crying, then rubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

#m:wip #wip:sits #wip:snippet

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