#I hope you like it!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

confessthysiins · 1 month ago

Note

[ let go ] after holding onto receiver's hand for a while, sender finally, reluctantly releases their grip

THE ROMANCE OF HANDS & TOUCH. / OPEN.

It’s a short ride from the police station to the waterside where Oswald parks the car. They rode in a tense, pained silence, the rumble of the engine and the quiet song of crooners on the radio their only reprieve from it’s seeming eternity. He didn’t know what to say, and he warrants Miriam didn’t either.

He’d gotten the call around 1 A.M. “ I’m sorry, ” Miriam had answered through dry sobs. “ I didn’t know who else to call. ” She’d been found huddled at the back of a Corolla in an old dealership in the industrial district, a cold girl just looking to spend the night anywhere with a door, with a lock. So Oswald had thrown on his coat and left the comforts of sleep for the station. “ I’ll be right there, dear. Just give me a few minutes, ” he had said, voice uncharacteristically rough with the unexpected waking. He’d driven safely despite the web of feelings being spun in his gut as though by a great spider. He was worried, of course - they’d taken her in on trespassing charges, but surely she didn’t have any ID. Had they checked her bag and inevitably found drugs? Had they been rough with her, or at all uncouth? He found it hard to stomach the thought of her alone in a holding cell, her only crime having sought shelter in the frigid night.

He’d been at the station by 1:30 A.M. Only a few minutes after talking to the officer in charge they were already gone. Miriam hadn’t hugged him when she’d been released, hadn’t spoken at all while they remained inside. She’d been quiet, apologetic in her silence. She looked tired and hungry, like a lost child, or a martyr. The cops teased them about the fancy car. Oswald escorted her out with an arm around her shoulders.

“ How’d you do it? ” she had asked as he opened the passenger door of the Cadillac for her. “ What do you mean? ” He sat himself. “ Get me out, I mean. How’d you do it? ” “ I lied, ” he had answered so naturally. He didn’t tell her that he said he was her father.

They’d pulled up at a drive-through on the harbor ( “ You look like you’d eat me if I gave you the chance, ” he’d said, surely meaning to tease, but his tone was tired and she found it unnerving. ) For himself Oswald took only a black coffee. In the confessional darkness of the car, Miriam apologized again. “ I must have woken you up. ” “It’s alright, dear. I told you you could always call me if there was an emergency, after all. I’m just glad I could be there. ” He’d sighed as they drove away. He sounded exhausted. Did he resent her for this? Maybe he’d have her make it up to him, somehow. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the thought.

It’s almost 2 A.M. now. They’re parked by the waterside under the cold halide lamps, at a small quay where older locals liked to fish and younger ones liked to smoke weed and make out. The pavement is strewn with broken glass. A drunk had puked up his night’s excess at the very edge of the cement. It’s just the two of them now. Oswald turns the key and the engine’s purr dies with a hot sigh. He clears his throat as he exits the car, closing his black wool coat about himself. Miriam follows him, her demureness reminiscent of the quiet apologia that follows an argument.

He leans against the front bumper of the car, a cigarette in one hand, the other roaming his pockets. When he sighs mist enshrouds him in gold, white hair yellowed by the streetlights. “ Here I am, ” he smiled, the ghost of impatience ruining his usual genuinity, “ up at 2 A.M., smoking by the bay like a teenager. I havn’t smoked in years, you know? ” he adds, the patting at his pockets growing frustrated. “ Say, Miriam, dear, have you got a light? ” That was what he said. But what she heard was, You always find a way to bring out the worst in me. She looks out to the water, star-specked with the cityscape’s myriad lights. She gives him the lighter anyway. “ Thanks, darling. ”

He offers her one before lighting his own cigarette up, takes a long drag, head thrown back in the pleasure of old habit. Miriam fiddles with her bag. “ Come, ” he tells her, and she obeys, though she dares not look into his eyes. He’s tired and resentful, and she’s just waiting for the thunder of his anger to strike. But it never does. When he leans in close to light her up she shivers like soft grass before lightning. A smoky exhale trails behind him as he redresses, but something holds him back. Miriam’s hand is closed on his, holding the lighter. She doesn’t care for the trinket. Wet eyes are fixed on him, puffy with dried tears. She tugs ever so lightly at him, soft fingers searching for his own, thin and bony. This is her begging: Please, my God, let me have this. Just a moment, let me have this. And then I will ask for nothing more.

“ Miriam… Oh, Miriam. ”

He looks sad, with his white hair falling on his sunken face, when his thumb moves to caress hers, a soft and lithe touch, the only kind he can afford himself lest he forgive reason and embrace her. Poor lonely Miriam, with no one in the world but him. Right there in her icy eyes, he can see it so clearly. Right there alone by the dark water and the shining city lights he’s all she has. In another life, he kisses her hard and fast. But in this one, he slowly unwraps her hand from his, pulls away from the closest they’ve ever been to breaking. He cannot be her everything, can’t afford to throw it all away for her, skinny girl with her beautiful gaze that chills like winter, for her fascinating black-hole desires and all consuming, all consummating love. But he can at least bear her hurts, for now. He steps away, cigarette burning between cold lips, sighs as his hands reluctantly quit hers to hide in his coat. He closes his eyes, face like a mask of death under the lights, as another smoke-heavy exhale hides him, if briefly, from her burning own.

“ I have to make a call. Would you wait in the car for me? ”

When he sits next to her again in the darkness the well of emotions in her ragged throat is unbearable. Touch me, she thinks, do anything you want, but please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. In silence he puts in his key and the engine roars to life. She’s been good, she’s been obedient. Surely he’ll forgive her her small transgression, her tentative peek beyond the boundaries of their doctor-patient relationship. “ Where are we going? ” she asks sheepishly. When he answers he fails to hide a certain irritation in his tired voice. “ I have a conference tomorrow-” a flick of his wrist as he checks the time, “ four hours from now. Damned Europeans. I’d like to get at least a little bit of sleep until then. ” She feels guilty, but says nothing.

“ Don’t worry, ” he tells her as they roll up on the highway. “ I've found you somewhere for tonight. ” She doesn’t ask what will become of her. After what he did for her tonight, he’d still be a saint for leaving her on a street corner to wander till morning. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t talk any more, nor looks at her. He just drives home.

#║ MONOLOGUES.#handtame #║ WIDE EYED LAMB. ( i loved you with the good and the careless in me )#║ v. MODERN. ( tell me your despair and i will tell you mine )#i wrote this on paper in a fugue state from 1 to 3 am last night #just so everybody knows how much this is the dynamic of all time #cinema to me #i hope you like it!!!!!

5 notes · View notes

fiendishartist2 · 6 months ago

Text

revenge for @h0dge-p0dge's attack on aria >:3

#this was actually very hard to draw bc ive like never dxrawn a gun before let alone at this angle #thank god for hick boys showing off their shot guns on google images amen #i also think i need to eat bc i dont feel so well lol #my art #artists on tumblr #digital art #artfight #not my oc #love love love gertrude btw i think shes sick as fuck and ive been wanting to draw her since art fight started #i hope you like it!!!!!

9 notes · View notes

mushiewrites · 2 years ago

Text

Flipping the Switch

It may be towards the end of January, and almost exactly one month late, but I finally finished the prompt from @gigglesandghasts for @positiveglitchexists! Thank you for being so patient with me, I hope you enjoy! 💕

lee!George / ler!Dream : bratty lee who tries/tried to tk their ler and instead it just turns into the ler tkling them…basically tk fight

(switch!George / switch!Dream : 2.4K words)

Dream yawned, arching his back and stretching his arms way above his head as he let out a groan, eventually melting back down into the couch cushions behind him with a contented sigh. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the stare from the older boy sitting a few feet away on the other side of the couch.

He wasn’t sure exactly when George started to stare at him, but Dream knew it had to be well over 30 minutes ago. The younger boy had tried to nap, but he seemed to be a little more restless than he had anticipated - maybe Dream was annoying him with all his movements? They were watching a movie, after all. His brain couldn’t think of any other reason why George would be staring daggers into him.

With another relaxed sigh, Dream wiggled himself back into his previous position of laying down with his head on the arm of the couch and pulled the blankets back over himself, ready to start attempt number 6 of falling asleep.

After some time had passed and Dream still wasn’t successful in his slumber, he let out a little whine as he stretched out his legs and put his arms high above his head again, trying to see if he just needed one more good stretch to help him cross over to dreamland. However, he heard sudden movement and before he could open his eyes he felt fingers wiggling under his arms, causing his eyes to snap open and his arms to immediately lower and press down into his sides.

As he blinked a few times to get used to the light of the room he was met with wide brown eyes staring him down, with a smile so big that George’s cheeks made his eyes look like little crescent moons. Dream shook his head quickly, leaning back against the arm of the couch while he did little pathetic kicks behind where George had sat himself on Dream’s thighs. But George wasn’t having it and moved a hand from his left armpit, lightly gripping the younger boy's jaw and turning his head to regain eye contact.

“G-Geheheheorge! What are you dohohoing?!” The blonde questioned, trying hard to choke down the giggles so that George wouldn’t get the satisfaction he was looking for. But the older boy noticed too quickly and suddenly his hands were out from under his arms and kneading on either side of his bellybutton, on the extremely sensitive nerves that only George and Sapnap knew about. Dream squealed, a high pitched squeak slipping out as he arched up off the couch. A second later his body was slamming back down into the cushions below him, cackles and booming laughter erupting from within him.

“You keep stretching! It’s practically like you were begging for this to happen.” George teased, smiling down at the squirmy boy as he focused on the way Dream’s facial expressions changed based on what George was doing. He poked at Dream’s lower tummy with his two pointer fingers, watching as Dream pressed his lips together in an attempt to muffle his laughter. George switched it up to slipping a hand beneath the black hoodie, swirling his finger around the very sensitive dip in the middle of his tummy. This made Dream burst out into another round of high pitched squeals and protests, his smile so wide he thought his jaw would snap.

“‘I was just stretching!’ Sure Dream, and I’m just an idiot.” George bit back, rolling his eyes as Dream nodded his head to signal that he did in fact think George was an idiot. This proved to be a big mistake on Dream’s part as George took the opportunity to knead both hands into the younger boy’s sides, making him burst out into airy giggles as he kicked.

“Y-You are! Now gehet off mehehe!” The blonde bucked his hips up high, twisting them to the side and causing George to lose his balance and fall down onto the floor. The smaller boy found himself half off the couch, blinking a few times before seeing the smirk coming from Dream who was looking down at him from the couch.

“Dreheam, we can- we cahan talk about th-this, rihihight?” George questioned softly, stuttering his words through his nervous giggles. Dream’s grin grew wider and George decided he needed to make a run for it. However, he found himself immediately being stopped, hands pressing on his thighs to hold him in place.

George’s top half was hanging off the couch, his shoulders against the ground as his lower half stayed up on the couch. His torso was extremely stretched due to the positioning, and he couldn’t help but giggle at the cool breeze that reminded him that his shirt was now raised, sitting just below his ribs and exposing the sensitive little tummy. George went to pull his legs down onto the floor with him, but Dream caught on and threw one of his legs over George’s to make sure he couldn’t.

“You wanna talk now, Georgie?” The smirk that Dream wore was enough to make the older boy look away in embarrassment, shaking his head as he pressed hands over his mouth as a sign he wasn’t going to speak. The blonde giggled at that, poking a finger against George’s tummy twice and making him squeal. “No? What a shame, I’d have loved to hear you beg for me not to tickle you to death.”

With that, Dream used both hands to start kneading into George’s hips, his thumbs lightly pressing in while making circles directly on the bones. The brunette tried to buck up at the action, giggles growing a bit more panicked behind his hands as he realized the position he was in gave him practically no wiggle room. Dream sensed that George suddenly recognized the position he was in, letting out a little menacing chuckle before continuing to tease the poor boy under him.

“What happened, little idiot, did you get yourself stuck in a compromising position?” The blonde taunted George, watching as he tilted his head back and shook it slightly, blushing at the endearing term they use for each other. He squeezed his eyes shut as he made the move to take a hand off of his mouth to try and grab at Dream’s to push him off.

This excited Dream, and all George managed to do was get himself into an even more compromising position; his left wrist was now in Dream’s grip, holding his arm up straight so he could lean down and use his free hand to poke under George’s left armpit. The older boy screamed, moving his hand from over his mouth and gripping at Dream’s tickling hand, trying his best to pull it away from the sensitive hollow under his arm.

George’s reaction was exactly what Dream had hoped for, now grabbing the second wrist up in his grip to prevent George from blocking any ticklish spots. One of his hands easily held the delicately small wrists with little effort, smirking down at the brunette to wiggle the fingers on his now free hand to make George squirm.

“P-Plehease! Don’t dohoho anything, I’m sohohorry!” he stammered through his nervous giggles, looking up with the pleading eyes to try and soften the blonde. But it seemed that Dream was too busy looking for his next target, his smile growing in size as he finally decided on his next move.

The brunette was about to protest again but was cut off with a shriek tearing from his throat, feeling Dream rubbing his knuckles up and down the right side of his rib cage. He jolted to the left, throwing his head back and cackling his little heart out as Dream added more pressure and speed to the mix.

“Gosh George, this must kill you, huh?” Dream watched as the boy under him struggled, pulling at his arms but getting absolutely nowhere. “I mean, your ribs are bad enough normally, but knuckles? This must tickle so much.”

The elder shook his head quickly, trying to shove his face into his arms in embarrassment. Dream could see the blush spreading up to the tips of George’s ears, practically glowing red with how flustered he was. He couldn’t handle the tickles, but Dream’s teases? George thought he might melt into a puddle of goop if he kept it up.

“And my knuckles are so much bigger than yours! Look, it’s basically covering over half your ribs at once!” Dream exclaimed as he began giggling at his discovery. George cracked an eye open to see Dream focusing intensely on his ribs, which only made the older boy whine through his giggles. He couldn’t handle that kind of attention, especially being in a situation like this one, and now George was certain he was going to disintegrate at any moment.

“N-NOHOHO, DREHEHEAM PL-PLEHEHEASE I- I CAHAN’T TAHAHAKE IT!” The smaller boy was in hysterics now, little squeals coming through everytime Dream hit a particularly sensitive rib towards the back of his rib cage. He didn’t know how much more he could take, it tickled so bad and he was truly stuck. “M-MERCY! DREHEHEHEAM P-PLEHEASE MERCY!”

Mercy wasn’t a safeword for them, but Dream could tell by the strain in his laugh that he was very close to being tickled out. He slowed his knuckles down on George’s ribs, letting go of the brit’s wrists and slowly bringing them down to rest by his head. Dream brought his other hand back to George’s torso, rubbing gentle swipes of his palms across the heated skin.

“Alright, I promise I’ll stop, but can I do one more thing first? Do you think you can handle that?”

George opened his eyes fully this time, looking up into the bright green eyes that were excitedly twinkling at the prospect of continuing. He rolled his eyes at Dream’s puppy-like nature and cursed him for being so damn cute. With a sigh, George mumbled out a small “mhm”, nodding his head slowly as he dropped his head back against the carpet to stare up at the ceiling above.

“Okay Georgie. Just this one thing, and then I’m done.” the tone of Dream’s voice peaked George’s interest, suddenly feeling nervous again as if he hadn’t even been tickled yet. He lifted his head just in time to watch Dream take in a big breath before dipping his head and leaning his body down so he could reach George better. This made the brunette panic, trying to push himself off the ground with his hands only to be pushed back down with a strong hand against his chest.

“Three….Two…”

“Don’t count!”

“Okay!” And true to his word Dream didn’t utter out another number, instead closing the space between his lips and George’s quivering tummy to blow the biggest raspberry above his belly button.

“N-NAHAHAHA P-PLEHE I- DREHE- DREHEHEAM!” he could barely get the words out, squirming and kicking and grabbing at Dream’s curls to try and push him away. Dream began to shake his head quickly as he finished the raspberry to allow his stubble to scrape across George’s skin to tickle him even more.

Dream pulled back and took in another quick breath, leaning back down and blowing a raspberry on the middle of his ribs on the left side of his body. He also decided it would be a fun finale if he shoved both hands under George’s arms, wiggling and poking and prodding until he was red in the face and his laughter went silent.

After he was done with the raspberry, Dream sat up and immediately pulled George back up from the ground to cuddle into him. He let the smaller boy hide in the nook of his neck, hearing the stray giggles that seemed to escape every few seconds as his ghost tickles slowly disappeared. Dream was hugging him tightly, rubbing his hands up and down George’s back to help him calm down.

“Thahat was cruel, Dream!” He was able to croak out a few minutes later, his breathing finally adjusting back to normal. Dream chuckled, turning his head slightly to place a kiss on George’s temple as an apology. He hummed in fake annoyance, but it was a symbol that he indeed accepted the apology from the younger boy.

“You provoked me, I had to do it. I had no choice.” This made George giggle into Dream’s neck at the ridiculousness of the explanation he was given. He blinked sleepily, adjusting his head to rest on Dream’s shoulder with a yawn.

“Yeah yeah, whatever idiot. Shut up and let me sleep. I deserve it after that torture.”

It was Dream’s turn to roll his eyes at George’s dramatics, but decided to listen to him anyway. He leaned back, sinking into the cushions behind him and grabbing one of the many blankets from the back of the couch to drape over them both as George drifted to sleep.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with cuddly naps and quiet giggles, just enjoying each other's company while they had the free time to do it. They watched movies, ordered take out and talked about everything and nothing while they just existed together.

The rest of the night, however, was not as peaceful; it was filled with high pitched giggles and whines coming from a certain blonde boy, who may have caved and allowed a certain brunette to get their revenge.

#lee!george #lee!dream #ler!george #ler!dream #yay it’s finally finished!!!!#everyone thank cal for the title #and thank u coven for helping with the end!#thank u so much for waiting!#and being so nice about it!#i hope you like it!!!!!#i kind of love how it turned out 🥺#positiveglitchexists #gigglesandghasts #mushie fics #mcyt tickle #my stuff

93 notes · View notes

yellowlaboratory · 2 years ago

Note

Can you write part 3 to crash at my place ? 🙏🏾 or any jj/kie fic I will take anything

for some unknown reason, I am now emotionally attached to this teddy bear so I guess here we are

#outer banks #obx #jiara #razors in the roses #usually i can't write requests cause my inspiration is a fickle bitch #but this one poured out of me so #anyways turtle is a facet of my personality #i hope you like it!!!!!

18 notes · View notes

amberlynnmurdock · 2 years ago

Text

Ben Tallmadge x Reader

Untitled

@the-summer-of-73 requested “It’s okay to cry, you know” from this prompt list.

Thank you for the request!!! I hope I did it justice :)

Genres: angst, with a fluffy ending

The good thing about the sweltering heat in July was that at night the temperature dropped to a somewhat comfortable temperature, allowing you and Anna to spend time together, prepping items to barter for the next morning.

It also meant that you and her could sneak a few drinks while the soldiers carried on with their own shenanigans by their own tents. You and Anna stayed perfectly out of sight and watched with amusement: close enough to see, but far enough to be safe from them.

Suddenly your attention is pulled to your left, when you see Major Tallmadge hurriedly running out of Washington’s quarters. To put it simply, he looked stressed. He made a beeline for his own tent, gripping the sword at his side, not paying attention to his surroundings. Concern stirred inside you. Whatever happened inside Washington’s quarters clearly did not go well for Ben. He wouldn’t ask you, but you knew he would want to see you after something like that.

“I don’t suppose that went well,” Anna huffs. “It’s late. If you go now, I’ll make sure no one saw you.” Anna gives you a knowing look and gestures to Ben’s tent. You gave her a smile.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” you tell her. Standing up from your stool and wiping the dirt off your dress, you too, make a beeline for Ben’s dimly lit tent.

Upon entering, you see the Major sulking, facing a dark corner of his tent, one hand on his waist the other running a hand through his golden brown hair. He doesn’t have to turn around to know you’re there--it was something Ben was good at. He could feel your presence like a veil.

“Not now, __,” Ben says, still facing the corner.

You sigh, “then when? Tomorrow and we pretend that I didn’t just see you storm out of Washington’s quarters? What happened?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Ben says sharply, turning his head slightly so you see his profile. You’re hurt by his tone, but his words, but you know deep down he doesn’t mean it--but still, it doesn’t mean he should’ve said it. He suddenly pulls at the white ties around his neck, loosening them, like they had been choking him.

“I made a mistake coming here. I’ll leave you,” you say as you begin to turn around and leave him to brood alone.

“Wait--” Ben suddenly says.

Before taking another step, you feel Ben’s hand grab yours, pulling you back in. You look up at him confused, concerned, to see his deep blue eyes half hidden, and his jaw clenched. You know he’s got about a thousand thoughts swirling in his head: thoughts about the ring, thoughts about the enemies hidden in this camp, the pressure of wanting to impress Washington, and yet you wondered if he ever saved a thought for just anything that didn’t so easily affect his mood. You knew Ben was under pressure all the time, but he forced himself to come off as a composed man, who really just needed a goddamn break.

“I’m sorry,” Ben quivers, avoiding eye contact with you. His eyes were glued to the ground. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You don’t deserve it. After everything you’ve done for me--everything you are to me.”

“Ben,” you softly say, placing a hand on his cheek that felt warm and soft. He turns his head slightly into the palm of your hand and takes a deep breath, mesmerized by your calming scent. “You don’t have to be strong always all the time. It’s okay to cry, you know.”

All Ben does is look at you. He looks at your concerned face, your care for him, your loving and affectionate touches, and he realizes how much he doesn’t deserve anything like it. He’s a man of war, a spymaster, he’s killed and nearly been killed dozens of times--how is it possible for him to be as soft as you? He wasn’t worthy, he thought. Which is why he pushes you away. But you always intend to stay.

A tear does fall down his cheek. Sometimes it did feel like it was all too much. It felt liberating to be able to admit that to himself, with you.

“Ben,” you whisper, running a hand through his hair. Your fingertips brush the blue ribbon holding his hair back, and you undo the loop so it falls to the ground. You loosen his hair so it falls out of being tied back. His hair falls just short of his shoulders.

“You’re not a Major right now. You’re Ben Tallmadge,” you tell him, “you’re a good man, who simply needs a break.” You push his blue jacket off of him so he’s just in his white shirt. You run your hand down the length of his arm and take his right hand into yours, leading him to his bed.

Ben makes no move to stop you. He’s so used to being in control, but for once, he lets you take over.

#ben tallmadge #ben tallmadge x reader #request #submission #the summer of 73 #amc turn #turn #turn: washington’s spies #ben tallmadge fanfic #ben tallmadge one shot #Seth Numrich #seth numrich fanfic #ben tallmadge imagine #i hope you like it!!!!!

24 notes · View notes