#Ticklish!Mari

[kanene-yaaay]

Guess whose back, back again. This time with less of a headcannon and more of an AU because I replayed the game recently and need more tickle copium.

So as we all know Sunny was tired of practicing the violin so much for the recital that ruined our hopes and dreams. Didn't help that the poor boy never vocalized how much he hated practice and kept his emotions bottled up. So instead of those emotions being vented out in the worst way possible I propose an alternative.

One random day before the recital the sibling duo were practicing. Sunny was getting fed up of practice while Mari kept urging him to keep going (through varying tones). And to her credit it worked, for about 4 times until it stopped being as effective. Sunny wanted a break, and he was gonna get it one way or another.

So after Mari told Sunny to take 5 to allow her to get her bearing straight on the sheet music Sunny set his plan into action. Setting the violin down gently as to not make noise Sunny snuck up behind Mari, and with the sneaky reflexes of a ninja he jabbed his fingers on her side. Eliciting a loud shriek from his older sister which followed by a slew of melodious cackles. In her giggle filled state she was asking Sunny why he was doing this, but he ignored her question. He only wanted to hear one thing flow from her mouth... well besides her laughter that is. And it took 5 whole minutes of tickles for Mari to ask for a 'Break' to which Sunny stopped instantly said "Sounds good." Then sat beside her on the piano bench and leaned into her shoulder. He then let out a small smile, content that he found a way to make Mari take breaks.

And it would take about 5 different occurrences of this for it to fully sink in for Mari. There were times her workaholic mindset would take over, only for it to be squashed by Sunny's tickle attacks. After the 3rd time he stopped being sneaky about it and openly approached her with wiggling fingers, Mari pieced together what he was doing but couldn't move fast enough to stop it.

The 5th and final time ended with Mari trying to run away from Sunny, ending in an hour long play chase that ended with Mari and Sunny having the most fun they've had in months. And as the sibling duo were collapsed in a giggle filled heap on the couch Mari finally understood, the grand lesson in all of this 'Break Good. Break real good'.

So she incorporated more breaks into their practice schedule. Breaks that were filled up with Mari tickling the snot out of Sunny this time. Hey, the boy had 5 tickle attacks on her, she's gotta even it up or else her title of 'Ultimate Tickle Monster' was in jeopardy. That and she loves seeing her brother smile and hearing his laughter. He tried to fight back back but uhh... well stick with sneak attacks bud you're out matched in a head to head 1v1 Tickle Fight.

Yadda yadda yadda boo boo, the Recital was a success, the violin was metaphorically kicked away for a little while, and a celebratory sleep over was in order. Hero noted that Mari had more spring in her step recently than she had during the past few months and asked why that was. Sunny was about to answer but Mari shot him a look of 'If you tell them what happened I will murder you (with tickles)'. He got the message and thought about it for about 4 seconds until he decided to live dangerously and spill the beans.

And then he died. Died by merciless tickles at Mari's embarrassed hands. And written on Sunny's Epitaph that Kel wrote in crayon on a piece of paper was...

R.I.P Sunny. At least you made Mari take breaks.

OKay, okay, this headcanon could as well be a dessert because HOLY GOSH HOW SWEEEET!!!

Such a cute scenario fr!! Sunny getting enough of his sister's workaholic-ing and deciding to tickle her until getting a break is a very lovely ide and the fact that this became basically a tradition for them is very veryyyyyy bright!! Cute!! Adorably adorable, even!

Also the last part where he decides to live dangerously and tell's everyone about this sneakty sneaky tickles attack and promptly gets destroyed by tickles rip rip our soldier fought well xDDDD

He may have won the Silly Battles but lost The Silly War X))

Thank you for sharing this! Such a great hc!

[amazingmsme]

Hard of Hearing

AN: MERRY CHRISTMAS! I know it’s not Christmas anymore (for me at least) but just barely! But this is my third Christmas fic, & I’ve been so damn busy it’s a miracle I even had any time to write this! But I’ve had an urge to write a fic for It’s A Wonderful Life ever since watching it in film history over a year ago! This movie is so underrated probably because it’s in black & white but George Bailey is a fucking cutie & I need to see that man get wrecked by the love of his life! I WILL spread my agenda to anyone & everyone willing to listen! (read)

George Bailey was many things. A father, a husband, a son, a brother, and he was also an unnamed hero of their small town. A simple man who poured his heart into the world around him, and expected nothing in return. He was loving and attentive to those around them, a good natured man who brought more joy than he knew. A half deaf man who just so happened to be a prankster at heart.

"Oh George?"

Now, George heard Mary call him from the other room loud and clear, but she could get so cute when she was put out with him. She called him again, waiting for an answer that didn't come. She yelled a third time, and there was that fire that he loved to see so much. "George Bailey!"

"I'm right here, you don't gotta yell," he said from the doorway, holding back a smug grin. Mary gave an exasperated smile.

"Well you weren't answering me!"

"Gee, I'm sorry Mary, I didn't hear ya," he lied easily, only feeling slightly guilty. Mary's expression softened as she walked over to him, handing him the Christmas tree topper.

"I just need help putting this on the tree," she said, turning back to the box of ornaments and grabbing a crystal snowflake to hang on a branch.

"Oh, well why didn't you just say so?" he asked, making her roll her eyes fondly. He stretched as much as he could to place the angel on top of the tree.

"Mm, a little to the left," she directed, standing on the other side of the room to get a better view. George smirked to himself before looking at her over his shoulder.

"What about the lights?

"No, it needs to go to the left," she repeated, slightly louder. George stepped back, looking the tree up and down.

"I don't know Mary, they look like they're working to me," he drawled, knowing damn well that's not what she was saying.

"No, the angel!" she reiterated, trying to hold back her laughter at her husband's expense. If only she knew who the butt of the joke really was.

"Well what about it?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips and taking a step back to admire the tree. He started at the bottom, scanning from trunk to the tippy top, where the angel sat, leaning just a little too far to the right. "Ah, it's just a little crooked! You shoulda told me, I'd fix it right up," he playfully chastised, trotting over to straighten the tree topper.

Mary watched her husband with a skeptical eye, starting to catch on to his scheme. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest, a fond smile on her face. George completed his designated task, almost walking right past Mary without a second thought.

"George!" The almost aghast tone in her voice made him stop dead in his tracks.

"What? Don't tell me I ruined the tree," he teased, looking at it again just to make sure. She shook her head with a chuckle, smacking him on the arm lightly.

"Were you really going to walk by without giving me a kiss?" she asked, cocking her head sweetly. She looked up at him with those warm brown eyes that made him melt, batting her long lashes. George flushed, ducking his head down and shoved his hands in his pocket. He bit his cheek to keep from grinning, but a sly smirk still found its way on his face.

"Now why would I go and do a thing like that for?" he asked, barking out a laugh at the indignant look she gave him.

"Because I'm standing under the mistletoe!" she explained, exasperated. He took a step closer, cupping his ear and scrunched his face in confusion.

"Huh? You stubbed your toe?" he asked, and the absurdity of the question caused Mary to burst into giggles. "You want me to kiss it better, is that it?" She shook her head, laughing too hard to answer.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" she asked, humor and mischief sparkling in her eyes.

"Am I what?" he asked, not bothering to hide his smug grin.

"George Bailey, you're horrible!"

"I'm sorry, I'm what?" he asked, leaning in and cupping his ear to "hear" better. She arched a brow, smirking at him.

"I know that's not your bad ear," she said, matter of factly.

"Do you now?" he asked, taking a step closer.

"Mhm." She closed the distance, wrapping her arms around his waist to pull him closer.

"Say, what else do you know?"

"Oh you'd be surprised," she mused.

"Try me," he said, finally leaning in for his mistletoe kiss. But Mary wasn't about to reward bad behavior. She waited until their lips barely brushed before she dug her hands in his sides, scribbling up and down.

He yelped, doubling over in shocked laughter. "Mahahary! Whahahat are you dohohoing?"

"Oh I'm just showing you what all I know, just like you said!" she explained, as if it were obvious. "And I just so happen to know aaaall your tickle spots!" she cooed, relishing in the way his cheeks blushed bright red.

"Nohoho don't!" he cried, leaning against the doorframe for support. Mary started squeezing his hips, and he positively screamed.

"Aw but why not? You thought it was funny to mess with me, I'm just giving you something to laugh about!" she reasoned, voice as sweet as honey.

"Ihihi'm sohohorry!" he apologized, knees buckling as he sank to the floor. Mary followed him all the way to the ground, drilling her thumbs in his hip dips. She laughed along with him as she continued taking him apart with her fingers.

"I don't know, are you reeeaaally sorry?" she asked in a singsong voice. George was laughing too hard to answer, nodding frantically as he stuttered out, "Y-yes! Sohoho sohohorry!"

"Hm... Alright, I believe you," she said, only she didn't stop.

"M-Mahahary! You're still t-tickling mehehe!" he whined, rolling around on the dusty ground. She really needed to sweep, Mary thought to herself.

"Oh, I never said I'd stop!" she clarified, tossing her head back with a joyous, yet somehow maniacal cackle.

"Nooohohohoooo!"

"Oh hush, you know you deserve this."

George balked, staring at her indignantly as he tried to come up with a retort. "Well- maybe not all of it!" he exclaimed, bursting into laughter once more when Mary shot her hands up to scribble in his underarms.

"Agree to disagree," she conceded, moving down to pinch and pluck at each rib. He snorted between his giggles, swatting at her weakly with one hand as he hid his face with the other.

"George Bailey, you better not hide that smile from me if you know what's good for you!" she threatened, wiggling her fingers a few inches above his stomach. On reflex, his hands shot down to grab her wrists, holding them at bay.

"Call me a glutton for punishment," he challenged with that signature cocky grin that made her fall for him in the first place. Her jaw dropped to the floor as she scoffed, though in actuality she couldn't be more delighted.

"Oh you are going to get it!" she cried, wrestling her arms free from his grasp. He was already laughing before she laid a finger on him.

"Wahahahait wait I'm sorrYYYY!"

"Oh now you are," she teased, not stopping her favorite kind of torture just yet. His long legs scrambled for purchase against the wood floor, catching her attention.

"And how could I forget about these," she mused aloud, spreading her nails over his kneecaps. He shrieked, tucking his legs in close to his chest for protection, though it offered none. Not that he really minded all that much. But he was a pretty good actor, if he did say so himself.

She mercilessly squeezed his knees, leaving him a wheezy, cackling heap on the floor. She wasn't too cruel however, and her hands slowed to a stop.

George laid on the ground in a breathless daze, clothes dirty and wrinkled, and hair thoroughly tussled, all while sporting a large, genuine smile.

"So," he started, shifting into a sitting position, "Are uh, are we still under the mistletoe?"

Mary rolled her eyes at her husband's antics for maybe the millionth time before grabbing him by the shirt collar, pulling him in for a passionate kiss under the mistletoe.

George Bailey may not have gotten the life he had hoped or dreamed for, but what he got in return was more than any wish could ever grant.

[shironezuninja]

PicsArt needed the weekend…to get its data media back in full view?

[ynsvnte]

My back hurts so bad wtf

@leaderwon guess you’re correct with the bones cracking.

[singmyaubade]

My cat was just hit by a motorbike and heavily injured, I can't afford to take him to the vet, so for the past few days I've been taking care of him, I just need a little comfort, a fluff James Potter fanfic maybe?

that sounds awful, i’m so sorry you’re going through this. i really hope your sweet cat heals quickly, and i’ll be sending you all my prayers/thoughts to help you through this.

if there’s any way i can help, let me know, i’d love to help spread the word (venmo, cashapp, whatever works) if that could help. in the meantime, i’d be happy to write you that james potter fluff — you deserve some comfort right now. sending you so much love <3

--

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

bf!james potter x gf!emale!reader

summary: well, don't you wanna wrap me up and mistle touch under the tree?

warnings :p : pure fluff: kissing, cutesy stuff, just teasing tension

You and James had one of the weirdest problems when it came to your relationship.

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

Not always in a sexual way, but more of a nurturing one.

It was common in most couples, but you and James just couldn’t seem to separate, no matter how much your friends begged.

Whether it was sitting on his lap in the common room with the rest of your group, or wiping butterbeer off the corner of his mouth.

Or even rubbing lotion on him when he could’ve done it himself.

Truthfully, you and James would even cuddle on the hottest days if it meant touching each other.

It wasn’t intentional, and you hadn’t really noticed the habit until your friends pointed it out.

"You and James are bloody inseparable!" Marlene huffed, and Sirius agreed with a knowing smirk.

You scoffed, "That is so not true," You argued, shifting to sit on James’s lap right then and there on the couch in his parents’ lodge.

Remus snorted, which made you shoot him a glare as he nervously took a sip of his hot chocolate.

"It’s not that we totally hate it!" Lily tried to reason. "But it is constant," She added sheepishly.

Your mouth dropped open as you turned to Dorcas for help.

Dorcas shrugged, "I actually can’t argue with this one, Y/N, sorry," She pouted, crossing her arms as you leaned back into James’s chest.

"Yeah, I think you guys are just a bit jealous," James said, snuggling closer to your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You giggled at the ticklish feeling as Marlene gave you an 'I told you so' look. You quickly stood up from James’s lap.

"Fine!" You huffed, "Me and James won’t touch each other for the rest of the day!" You stuck your tongue out playfully, and James immediately looked like a kicked puppy.

"Wait, baby!" He whined. "That’s not the solution to this."

Sirius was enjoying this little bet way too much. "What are you willing to put down, M’lady?" He asked with a grin.

"James will give you 10 Galleons," You said confidently, standing tall.

James groaned loudly, "First, you bet not to touch me, and now you’re betting my money?" He pouted, reaching for you, but you moved just out of his reach.

"Jamesie," You whispered, leaning into his ear in that sultry, sweet voice you knew he couldn’t resist, "Do this for me to prove a point, and you’ll win a prize."

James’s pout disappeared in an instant, replaced by a grin as he stood up with you. "You got a deal!" He said as he looked at Sirius, shaking his hand.

"They won’t make it to the next hour," Marlene snorted, and Mary giggled at the sight of James already reaching out for you again.

--

Originally, you thought that you and James could get through this.

I mean, how hard could it be to not intentionally touch each other? It wasn’t like that was your only love language.

But every time James called you beautiful that afternoon, you just wanted to place kisses all over his face.

You had to do your best to resist, though.

So, when your friends decided to go on a snack run, you and James volunteered to bake snickerdoodle cookies together.

The group exchanged looks, clearly doubtful that you both could pull it off without touching each other.

"Yeah, no. You guys will definitely break the bet. We need eyes on you," Marlene snorted.

"Fine, leave Peter here. He’ll tell you if we do anything," You said with a matter-of-fact tone, while the rest of the group reluctantly agreed.

Peter shrugged, not exactly thrilled, but fine with the arrangement, as he settled onto the couch, giving him a clear view of you two in the kitchen.

And then, it had been an hour since the rest of the group left, and you and James weren’t doing that bad.

Other than a few accidental brushes, you both seemed pretty firm in sticking to the bet.

An hour in, and things were going surprisingly well. You and James were managing to bake the snickerdoodle cookies without breaking the bet—so far.

You carefully measured out the flour, while James cracked eggs with exaggerated precision, all the while glancing over at you.

“Y’know, I think I’m actually starting to like this challenge,” James said, his voice teasing but his eyes soft. “I get to look at you all day without touching you.. and it’s actually really hard.” He admitted at the end.

You smiled, biting your lip as you kept your hands busy stirring the dough. “I can see that,” You teased. “You’re practically eyeing me like I’m the last snickerdoodle on the planet.”

James grinned, but there was a hint of something more in his smile—something that made your chest feel a little too full. “Can’t help it, love. You look so beautiful when you bake. I just want to reach out and—” He cut himself off, faking a shiver. “It’s torture, I swear.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him as you took a quick glance at Peter. He was too engrossed in his show, completely oblivious to the playful tension between you and James.

"Too risky," You said with a teasing smile, glancing back at James. "But the reward can be the fabulous snickerdoodle cookies I bake for you."

James sighed dramatically, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed as if he were fighting the urge to pull you into him. “Reward? I don’t need a reward, I just need you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” You teased, giving him a pointed look, but your heart was racing.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? No kisses, no hugs, no little cuddles? What’s a guy to do?”

You leaned in just a little, your face inches from his as you whispered, “You’ll just have to settle for this.” You gave him a cheeky smile, unable to resist the playful glint in your eyes.

James's eyes followed your every movement, the air between you thick with unspoken words. His hands were gripping the counter tightly now like he was trying to resist pulling you closer. “I hate this,” He said softly, a frustrated smile tugging at his lips. “I just want to kiss you. You don’t even know how badly I want to.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had to force yourself to look away and focus on the dough. “We agreed, no touching. We’re doing just fine.”

James let out a dramatic groan. “You’re not helping,” He muttered. “Every time you look at me like that... I swear, I’m about to break the bloody bet myself.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your lips. “I’m trying my best, James. It’s you who can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.”

“Well, if you’d stop looking at me like I’m the only person in the room, maybe I’d stand a chance.” His voice was teasing, but there was a sincerity behind it that made your chest tighten.

James was incredibly distracting in this position. It took almost everything in you not to close the distance between you two.

You sighed, moving back and trying to keep your distance as you added another spoonful of cinnamon to the dough. "You’re really making this difficult, aren’t you?"

"Absolutely," James said with a grin, leaning a little closer, though still careful not to cross that invisible line between you. "But I have a good reason. You’re ridiculously cute when you’re focused. And if I did touch you right now—"

You cut him off, putting your hand forward to create space, "Nope. Don’t even finish that sentence, Potter."

"Potter?" He pouted, using his puppy dog eyes, "You're wounding me baby."

You giggled at his playfulness, rolling your eyes. “One kiss,” You whispered, finally giving in to the tension between you two.

You quickly glanced over at Peter, relieved to find him completely engrossed in his cartoon show, blissfully unaware of rule-breaking a few feet away.

“Block me,” You said with a grin, giving James a slight push. He immediately moved closer, using his taller frame to shield you both from Peter's view.

James leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a quick, soft kiss. But before he could deepen it, you pressed a finger to his lips, stopping him.

“Not so fast,” You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

James pouted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re cruel.”

But you couldn’t help it—seeing him like this, wanting more, and knowing you couldn’t give it to him yet made you feel a little victorious.

Eventually, you forced James to continue baking, trying to keep both of you focused on the task at hand. Surprisingly, the cookies were actually making it to the oven despite the constant teasing and tension between the two of you.

James was working, but only half-heartedly—his eyes kept drifting to you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, like a soft tug at your chest. Every time you caught him looking at you, it made your heart skip a beat, but you couldn’t give in. Not yet.

Finally, you placed the last tray of cookies in the oven, breathing a sigh of relief. “We did it,” You said, glancing over at James, but before you could even finish the sentence, you found yourself face-to-face with him, his hand lightly grazing yours as he reached for the counter.

You both froze and for a split second, the world seemed to stop. His eyes locked with yours, dark and full of mischief.

"Just one more.." He whispered, taking a step closer. "You’re making it so hard, you know that?"

You could feel your heart racing, your breath catching in your throat. It wasn’t just about breaking the rules anymore. It was about him, and the way you couldn’t help but want to be closer, to feel the warmth of his hands, the softness of his lips.

James leaned in, just a fraction of an inch, like he was waiting for you to stop him. And for a moment, you were ready to give in.

But then, you saw Peter's head turn just slightly from the corner of your eye. You both immediately snapped back, the distance between you instantly felt as painfully obvious as the rule you were both struggling to follow.

You sighed dramatically, stepping back, though your hand still hovered near his. "You really are impossible, James."

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. “I know. But I think you like it.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you quickly turned to the oven, checking on the cookies just to distract yourself. "Alright, alright. We’re so close to winning this. No more distractions.”

James, however, wasn’t ready to give up. He stood behind you now, just close enough that you could feel the heat of his presence. "But we’re not breaking the rules yet, right?” He teased, his voice low and smooth.

You shot him a look over your shoulder, lips twitching into a smile despite yourself. “No touching, James. We agreed.”

He huffed in mock frustration but stayed right there, leaning just a little closer, so close you could almost feel his breath on your neck. "I swear you’re trying to make me lose my mind."

You giggled, the sound light and carefree, and despite the tension, you couldn’t help but feel completely at ease. "You're doing a pretty good job of it on your own."

James smiled, his lips curling in that irresistible way you could never resist. He didn’t make a move to touch you this time—though it seemed like he was about to. Instead, he simply stayed close, the quiet hum of the moment wrapping around you both.

You both stood there, just on the edge of breaking every rule, but for now, it was enough.

James’s voice broke the silence, softer now, just for you. “I’m going to win this, Y/N. And when I do, you’re going to make up for every second we’ve spent apart.”

You could feel your heart flutter in your chest at his words. “We’ll see about that, Potter.”

The cookies were almost done, and the rest of the group had finally returned to the kitchen, their voices carrying through the hallway.

"So, Peter, did you see any touching?" Lily teased, eyes gleaming with mischief as she looked at you both.

You and James exchanged a quick, guilty glance before Peter shrugged, still glued to his show. "Nope, they just baked," He said, completely oblivious.

You and James both let out a sigh of relief at the same time, eyes meeting in a shared, victorious moment. The bet was almost over, and you had not touched each other—well, mostly not touched.

And then, just as you both took a step toward each other, eager to celebrate your (mostly) successful bet, Sirius spoke up with a dramatic, teasing voice.

"Nuh-uh," He said, wagging a finger like a parent scolding children. "Not yet. Not till the rest of the day!"

You groaned playfully. "Sirius, come on!" You whined, but even the complaint didn’t sound all that serious. "You’re the worst."

James crossed his arms in mock indignation, his lips puffing out in a little pout. “We’ve been good,” He said, giving you a pleading look. “We didn’t touch! This should be a reward!”

Sirius glanced at his watch, a grin tugging at his lips. "You both still have two hours before the bet is completely over," he teased. You and James pouted, both of you groaning in exaggerated frustration.

"Two hours?" you whined. "That's forever!"

James crossed his arms dramatically, leaning against the counter. "I’m starting to think you made this bet just to torture me, Y/N."

You laughed, nudging him playfully. "Oh please, Potter. You’re the one who wanted to prove you could win."

"Okay, how about we play a board game?" Marlene interrupted, clearly trying to put a stop to the obvious flirting between you and James.

The rest of the group immediately agreed, and you all settled in to play Monopoly. You shot James a playful look as you sat down next to him, knowing full well that this would probably be just as ridiculous as the bet you were trying to hold out on.

Marlene raised an eyebrow at the two of you, clearly sensing something was up but not saying anything. "Alright, let's see if you two can manage to keep your hands to yourselves during this one."

You grinned and nudged James with your elbow. "Oh, I think we can handle it. Right, Potter?"

James shot you a dramatic wink. "Oh, I’m definitely focused. No distractions here."

But that did not continue to be truthful because every time you reached for a piece, you’d accidentally brush his hand or your elbows would bump.

Each time, you both giggled and pulled back, pretending to be serious about the bet, but the playful look you exchanged made it clear you weren’t fooling anyone.

The game went on, and with every turn, the distance between you both seemed to shrink.

At one point, you both reached for the same piece at the exact same time. Your fingers brushed, and you both froze for a moment before bursting into giggles.

“Oops,” James said with a grin, pulling his hand back dramatically. “Guess we’re terrible at this.”

You rolled your eyes, though you were grinning just as much. “You’re the one who’s distracting me, Potter.”

“I’m distracting?” He laughed, pretending to be offended. “I think you’re the one who’s making it impossible to focus!”

You stuck your tongue out at him, trying to stifle your laugh. “You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d be so mad right now.”

“I know,” He winked. “It’s my best quality.”

Sirius playfully rolled his eyes at the both of you but that still didn't stop the moment.

The game continued with more silly moments—James trying to accidentally brush your arm while reaching for a piece, you pretending not to notice when his leg bumped yours under the table. You both tried to act like the bet mattered, but every little touch and teasing glance only made it more ridiculous.

At one point, you stood up to grab a piece from across the table, and of course, James stood up at the exact same time. You both awkwardly bumped into each other as he tried to scoot past, and you couldn’t stop laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing was.

“You’re making this harder,” You said between giggles, trying to regain your composure but not moving away from him.

James just grinned, looking completely unbothered. “I’m doing nothing. It’s you who’s making it hard.”

You laughed even harder, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, the game ended and your friends started to clean up. You and James were sitting side by side, still grinning at each other like two kids who just got caught doing something silly.

You exchanged a glance, and before either of you could say anything, your hand instinctively reached out for his. His fingers immediately curled around yours, and the room seemed to fade into the background for a second.

Sirius, noticing from across the room, grinned and said, “Well, well, look who finally broke the bet.”

You and James just laughed, completely ignoring the teasing. You were both just too happy to be together.

James reached into his wallet, handing Sirius the ten galleons, immediately looking at you.

“Worth it,” James said with a goofy smile, giving your hand a little squeeze as he picked you up from your waist and spun you around.

You nodded, your smile matching his. “Definitely.” You said, kissing him sweetly.

Sirius shook his head with a chuckle. “You two are impossible.”

You were.

But honestly? You didn’t care. Because at that moment, you were touching James, and it was the most perfect, thing in the world.

[kanene-yaaay]

It's 15 days early, but in celebration for a certain silent bean's birthday. Time for more Headcanons... of the Hap Birf variety.

So it's Sunny's Birthday. A wonderful time for all, honestly it should be an International Holiday. Especially since the gang uses this day as an excuse (not that they really need it) to tickle him to pieces.

Honestly they do this for everyone's birthday, no one is safe from the Birthday Tickles. It's just Sunny's time to be adorably murdered.

It doesn't help that the biggest tickle monster in town, nay the World, sleeps right beside him. So here he was strolling around his dreamworld of colors and rainbows only to be snapped awake in a fit of laughter. Sunny would be annoyed that he was awoken from his dreams but he's too busy laughing to file a formal complaint to Mari. So he settled for an out of breath form of the silent treatment, which lasted for about 10 seconds until Mari promised to make him Birthday Cookies. Then he immediately started talking to her again.

So after the first wave, the second attack came almost immediately after the sibling duo got ready for the day. Because outside the door was Kel, eager and ready to serve up his Birthday Tickles. So, naturally Sunny ran away. Not to escape really because he knows there's no escape with Kel, but he wanted at least a comfortable place to lay down and die from tickles. So he ran into the living room to quote-unquote 'hide' on the couch until Kel caught up and started the onslaught.

Next up on the Tickle Attack Chart is Aubrey, and out of everyone in the friend group Sunny feared her tickle prowess the most. He'd argue that she was as close to being on par with Mari herself, mainly due to her innate ability to find an opening even with Sunny trying to block her evil tickling hands. It also didn't help that she's super quick on the draw, so every time Sunny would try to protect a spot she would quickly focus on another part. Realizing that there was no hope in trying to stop her Sunny just let her tickle him freely. Much to the ribbon girl's delight.

Anyway that should be all-- No wait Basil is coming in with his fabled technique... the Tickle Hug. A Tickle Dark Art that is practiced by a select few people, and Basil is a master at it. It's his bread and butter, and Sunny should have realized that this was all a trap. But he was loopy from the giggles and could never turn down a Basil Hug. Until... the betrayal. As Basil dug his fingers into Sunny's stomach he realized that he's caught in a vice grip of laughter and comfort with no hope of escape. It didn't help that Basil is... kinda strong. Mans carries bags of fertilizer semi-regularly for his gardens so once you're in his hug, there's no escape until he says so.

Now it's time for Hero, and he takes a more... vocal approach. He may not be as strong, or capable of doing endurance chases, or has as optimal hand-eye coordination as the others... but what he makes up for is talking. Talking and teasing and using that endearingly smug smile that Sunny both loves and hates!

Hero has like an thesaurus built into his brain or something, because he never repeats a tease. Ever. 'Will you stop squirming so much?' 'Why are you hiding, huh?' 'Not here? Hmm... nah. I wanna tickle here some more'. Even if Sunny was able to speak properly through all the laughing he would still not be able to articulate a proper rebuttal against all of that. Hero knows this too, which is why he's always last when it comes to Sunny Birthday Tickles.

But either way... that's it. All 5 of them got their tickles in. The sacred ritual has been compleee-- Why is Mari coming back for more? What is this? This is unprecedented!

Mari is just straight up saying 'Frick the rules, I have Sibling Perks', and is coming back for a second wind. Makes sense since she's an established practitioner of the Tickle Dark Arts. While Basil has only masted one of the techniques, Mari has mastered all of them. From the Tickle Hug, to Verbal Teases, to Ghost Tickles a technique she created herself, to even stealing Sunny's Sneak Attack technique. Such an expansive repertoire of moves earns her the right to the title of 'Tickle Monster' and she flexes that title often... mostly on poor Sunny.

And it was at that moment where Sunny realized that the tickle attack from this morning was just an appetizer. A sneak peek for the wreckoning he was facing. As he was held down by his big sister... who asked "Any last words?" He had one, and it was to stick his tongue out at her. She took that challenge in kind, as Sunny's laughter echoed throughout the neighborhood.

🤍💖🤍💛💜💛💚💙💞❤️❤️💗❤️🩶💛💚🧡💛💕💜❤️🤍❤️💙💞🩶🖤💗🤎

Aaaaah, birthday tickles is such a great trope, in my opinion! It is teasy, silly, playful and also very fun to see! To think of Sunny having a day full of giggles and laughter and not minding it at all is so heartwarming. My bruh is just having the time of his life with his friends and family during his b-day and it's very adorable to see. Also ahwcgwvwhwvw Mari being such a tickle monster is basically Canon for me xDDD

[nikaandtea]

poolverine hcs!!

as i wait for art block to pass, take some poolverine brainrot because i need an outlet!

slight cw for mentions of vomiting, panic attacks, and a bit of stabbing.

The first night that Logan stayed at the apartment he insisted to both Wade and Al that he wouldn't be there longer than a week. Wade kept trying to buy him a toothbrush, assign him a towel, and even got him a separate razor. Logan was stubborn, and kept standing his ground on the fact he was about to move out soon anyway. But then Logan starts restocking household items after he started doing jobs with the TMA. Wade noticed that the fridge was almost never empty, and the laundry detergent hasn't run out in months. Logan started looking after Mary as well, and always denied any sort of attachment to the dog. One day, Wade notices the third toothbrush in the sink (which was usually the flimsy travel ones) changed to a regular one.

Wade is really physically affectionate, and that is not news. Logan isn't, and when Wade can't take the hint he gets a stab to the forearm. At one point, he actually does stop. Just for a day, Wade is too preoccupied with his own thoughts to nag Logan like he usually would in the morning. Logan notices. Logan notices, and misses the rush he felt when Wade would try and hop on his back while Logan was looking inside the fridge, or the taze into his side because Wade fucked around and learned the Wolverine was ticklish. So when Wade is reading something on his phone, ignoring all his surroundings on the couch Logan sits down. He sits down and presses their knees together. Wade initially flinches and opens his mouth for a snarky remark, which is cut short by Logan impaling him in the thigh. Mixed signals.

Logan regularly has nightmares about the X-men dying in his universe. He wakes up in a cold sweat and a racing heart from the images his brain forces to replay. Usually he walks about the dark living room and waits for a bit until he feels the panic subside. Sometimes he gets a drink from the kitchen and lets the buzz help him fall back into sleep. One of these nights just as he recovers, Mary bumps into his leg. Knowing she usually sleeps with Wade, Logan looks up from the floor as he sat on the couch, his breaths shallow and uneven. Wade doesn't question him, he gets Logan water and just sits next to him. Wade touched Logan plenty, uncalled for and vise versa. But Logan never forgets the long forgotten bloom in his chest that formed when Wade cautiously wrapped and arm around Logan.

Wade for sure has eaten a dishwasher tablet 'for science'. Logan watched him go through all stages of grief as he spit it out, tried to rinse it, foamed the chemicals further, and inevitably vomited. Logan made fun of him for a week and then made a deal with Wade to switch to powdered detergent.

Mary likes Logan better, you can't keep her away. Wade is jealous, and Logan knows it.

The apartment gets really cold in the winter. Al always gets to the only warm blanket before Wade ever can, and Logan didn't realize there is such an issue in the first place. Of course, he finds out in the middle of the night just as Wade begins to drag various throw blankets into his room. Logan and him bicker, before agreeing to go get more in the morning and tough it out for the night. Logan curses the shitty futon he sleeps on and bites down his ego. Wade is under at least five layers before Logan pushes him to the edge of the bed, climbing underneath the small pile with a slight shiver from the cold. Wade begins to crack jokes about how they are sleeping together, and Logan needs Wade, all of which Logan glares at him for before putting a pillow over his ears. Wade does end up falling silent, and wiggling up against Logan's back. He allows it, this once. Only because Wade is warm.

okay that's all they are the WORST.

[lovemybluebully]

I feel like both Wade and Logan both have a respective favorite technique to use on the other that they simply cannot stand themselves. Wether it's them accidentally telling on themselves or genuinely not knowing how bad it was, the idea has so much potential.

Wade loves peppering kisses all over Logans stomach. Its a way to give him a break without really stopping, and he needs to let his honey badger know how precious he's being! It doesn't tickle too intensely but being treated so softly is just so flustering to Logan that it still makes him whine through his giggles and try to kick Wade from where he's been pinned. But Wade? He is begging, pleading to just go back to the raspberries the second Logan tries the same thing. Arches up like he's being exorcised and squeals so high Mary Puppins starts howling along with him. It's rare for him to feel well and truly flustered by something but holy fuck this is killing him.

Logan, once he starts being playful, would be a big fan of the whole growling and pretending to eat you thing. Wade thinks it's hilarious and as flustering as it is the joke potential is enough to make it well worth the torment. But when Wade decides to give it a go it's over. Wade growls and his teeth just barely graze his skin, and Logan is already bucking hard enough to send them both to the floor. Logan goes nuts whenever wades face is anywhere near his stomach, but holy shit he is screaming so loud he can't even hear Wade over his own laughter.

Who did this? 😳😳😳 This is so cute and flustering that I'm the one blushing here. lol I don't even have anything to add onto this, it's just written so perfectly.

Whoever you are, you should definitely write a fic if you haven't already because this is an amazingly well-set scene here that I could picture entirely in my head. I've read it like ten times, and it still brings up butterflies in my stomach. lol

Oh, how I love these two ridiculously ticklish dorks. 😆

[sinning-23]

Home (Zeke Jeager x Reader)

Warnings: None, domestic Zeke some fluf, father Zeke

found myself watching some AOT and i just think Zeke would try his best to be a good father and show his babies that he loves them. anyway

Enjoy~

______________________________________________________________

You hold your 1-year-old daughter, tucking her into her stroller as she sleeps, her little chest rises and falls slowly. Today, they would get to see their daddy after 4 long and rather grueling months.

You pull your shawl over the pretty floral picnic dress you sported before stepping out, locking your front door behind you.

It’s quiet around this time, the getting closer to setting as you’re bathes in it’s light glow.

Zeke had told you he’d be coming home today, so you thought it’d be nice to give him a bit of a surprise when he finally arrived.

The station was a bit busy, various people of all walks of life exiting and finding their loved ones as you simple wait, seeing out a head of blonde hair, glasses, and a beard you’d grown to love.

And sure enough there he was, adjusting his frames, his hand resting in his pocket. He finally meets your gaze, a rare smile soon grazing his features as you approach.

Your baby girl was wide awake now, her chunky caramel-colored hands reaching for her papa. She grows ever desperate, trying her best to push the safety straps away as she fusses, her father steps far too slow for her liking.

You chuckle in response, helping her out of the seat so that she could meet him halfway. Her little outfit matched yours, the itty bitty Mary Janes clicking against the stone walkway as she took quick and rather clumsy steps to her "ApApA", which she chanted over and over between giggles.

His smile only grows, your heart squeezing at the sight of your husband leaning down to pick up your baby girl, peppering her chunky cheeks with kisses as she pushes him away, the beard making her ticklish. It's no use though, he only holds up and blows raspberries on her tummy.

"You missed papa?" You hum, kissing her quick before doing the same to Zeke, your hand resting against his cheek. She babbles, her smile making her look just like her daddy.

"Me too." You answer, seeing your daughter rest her head on her father's shoulder, balling up her fist around a piece of his jacket.

[trashpidgeon48]

Jesus Christ Superstar Goes Wrong

In honor of Henry Shields declaring himself Jesus, I thought why not have the Cornley Gang put on a production of this iconic musical.

Jesus + Judas- Chris and Max

I am going back and forth on who should who. Because I feel like Max Jesus and Chris Judas is very much in line with their characters. But Henry Shields being Jesus again is very funny to me. Jury is out on this one, but I like the idea. And then Max as a particularly cheerful Judas would be very funny. But then also him smiling and laughing while being whipped because he's ticklish. So it's up to y'all

Mary- Sandra 

Sandra would want to be Mary Magdalene cause she's the leading woman (and only main female). Sandra would turn up her sexual vibes to 11 for this and it would be very uncomfortable for a still rather religious musical. Her emotional beats might fall a little flat or she'd being surprisingly good at projecting her love for Max that it gets concerning.

Caiaphas and Annas - Robert and Dennis

They would make a fun little duo and Dennis could not act sinister to save his life. Dennis would lose the silver and they'd pay Judas in some other manner. They would just generally be ineffective as antagonists.

Pilate- Annie 

Annie as Pilate is funny in my mind because I can imagine the exact male voice that Nancy Zamit would put on for this. She would be legitimately scary. I like this idea and am not entirely sure why.

Peter- Lucy 

Lucy as Peter would actually be surprisingly affective Peter, but I feel like with any of the others double cast as the guards like Dennis, Vanessa, Jonathan, would end up with some hijinks. Then Sandra would try to outshine her in their duet.

Simon- Vanessa

Vanessa is not loud or intimidating in the first place, which is why she is here. She does have the stage presence for this and it would be funny. Plus, this was the last role left to cast so Vanessa draws the short straw this time around.

Herod- Jonathan 

Jonathan as Herod, need I say more.

[legs-like-jelly]

hi omg uhm. i just found ur blog the other day, i love ur art and writing!! i rlly personally love switch!starscream (like g1) bc i have an oc i pair with him and just!! im going to wipe the smug look off his dumb face <3 (until he gets my guy back)

anyway uhm!! do u have any hc's for g1 starscream?

yes yes of coarse!

G1 Starscream

as a Lee: One of the hardest bots to even tickle in the first place. If you threaten to tickle him he will absolutely initiate a chase. And he usually escapes 50% of the time

squealy and cackly laughter!! especially if you get a bad spot like his wings or shoulderblades

will one hundred percent kick and scream and cry bloody mary when you finally catch him after a chase

a fighter, most bots have caught a stray kick or punch when wrecking him

curses when he laughs

as a Ler: teasy to the MAX. he will not let you live down the fact that you're ticklish

will linger in an exceptionally ticklish spot and swirl his digit over it just to be mean

tries to hide his fluster while he's being a ler

doesn't get ler moods often, but when he does they often hit exceptionally hard

[ask-bad-end-sunny]

Between Mari and Sunny who is the most ticklish?

"..."

"...No. Stop. Don't look at me like that."

"Don't you dare do what I think you're going to do."

"Hee hee hee! Ok, ok...I won't tickle you, little brother."

"But I think that makes it clear who's the most ticklish here!"

Grumbling...

[pastlivesxpastlie]

vessel and reader and djungleskog cuddle session

My arms belong around you Djungelskog

vessel x gn! reader x Djungelskog (FLUFFY CRACK)

After a long day of just generally surviving you're ready to plop on the bed and snuggle into your beloved Djungleskog. But wait...

"hmmm mmm hhmmmphhmmmm." Your GOOFUS boyfriend Vessel already has Djungleskog in the tightest embrace with his face in the furry boy's tummy.

"Scoot over, Ves," you grumble as you take off your work clothes (or as I say, de-drag), "I wanna cuddle him, too."

Vessel wraps his arms around the chubby bear even tighter and even curls his legs up. "Noooooooo he's mine right now. Bad day," he pouts.

"Yeah, well me, too. Now scoot," you say trying to pry the tall cryptid man off your beloved Swedish stuffy. "I am NOT getting cuddle cucked!"

"Oh hohohoh but you are...I should send you to the cuddle cuck chair!"

That's it! You let out a little yelp in frustration and ATTACK. Your fingers find Vessel's ticklish ribs and armpits. "HANDS OFF THE BEAR, VESSEL MARIE!!!!"

Vessel flails and giggles, his precious face turning red as he surrenders. He catches his breath and smiles up at you with slightly parted lips and hazy eyes. "I missed you so fucking much today. It was genuinely stupid how much I needed you."

You lay partially on Ves and partially on Djungelskog and brush Vessel's hair back (he probably has a small fringe argue with the wall) and just vent. He kisses you forehead as you recount the stuff that made you stressed, and you rub his cheek as he tells you about his writer's block. Eventually, you both fall asleep to the sound of rain and the warmth from beloved Djungelskog.

[raccoonspooky]

Miss Piggy.

Billy Lenz x Female Reader. Rated E, 6k words.

Y/N device is not used in this fic. Second person, Billy pov.

(Femdom, dubious consent, Billy being gross. Character exploration. Full list of tags & description on ao3)

Miss Piggy is cruel.

Miss Piggy cuffed Billy to a table and spread him open like a frog to be dissected.

Stripped him naked. Secured his wrists and ankles to something out of sight. Attached to his thighs is another contraption, something with a metal bar that keeps him from closing his legs.

He’s sure that he must look like a sight. Billy would love to see Miss Piggy tied up like this. Trussed up like a Christmas ham. It’s unfair that Billy is in your position. He’s supposed to get you, not the other way around! Hasn’t anyone told you the rules? You've already been given your role. You're the whore. You're supposed to stumble over yourself running away while screaming and begging for something to save you! You're not supposed to conk him over the head with something. You don’t play fair!

It’s unfair to keep him like this. He should kill you for this. He wants to kill you for this. The only thing keeping Billy coherent is daydreaming of killing you. You’d scream and cry like aaall the other little sluts. You're not special. Miss Piggy might be clever, she might’ve won this round but she’d die like all the rest. You’ll die like all the rest. He can’t wait to see you in pieces, broken and useless in a heap. He’ll bleed you like the pig you are and you’ll feel stupid for ever thinking you were anything better than a dumb slut.

Miss Piggy treats him like meat. She treats him like a thing.

With his legs spread and secured and his arms forced still above his head, she could slice him from sternum to groin like a bullfrog in middle school science class. All of his squishy insides would spill out to stain Mrs. Piggy's hands and ruin her table. She's never done this before. Maybe she'd want to make a mess.

The phantom sensation of the cool press of a sharp knife appears at his throat. The bite of metal is ticklish, he wants to tuck his chin but he can barely move his jaw. He can do nothing as the knife begins to slice through his body without resistance. It glides like sharp scissors against crinkly wrapping paper. It makes him want to sneeze. He wants to wriggle and dance the discomfort away, but he can’t move. Miss Piggy has him tied tight. He wants to mimic the sound of sharp scissors but Miss Piggy stuck something in his mouth and he can barely move his tongue. If he contorts his wrist inward, he can just barely touch his restraints with his middle finger but he can't touch them otherwise.

His guts feel like eels, they slip and slide over each other and he wants to dig his fingers into the mess. He wants to tie them in knots, he wants to know what it's like to have nothing inside of himself. No bones. Just empty skin with his entrails strewn around himself like a red, juicy bird’s nest. All wet and dripping, he'd be nothing but a loose bag of flesh. Like the way Virgin Mary’s covered in her red robe as she stands in the middle of her halo that flutters outward, tinged with red and pink. Billy’s always thought Virgin Mary in the paintings always looked like a gaping cunt. Lying slut. She wasn’t a virgin. Whoever fucked baby Jesus into her wasn’t God. She let some dirty, nasty person violate her whore cunt that she promised to someone else and she lied to the world because that’s what whores do.

Now the world dresses up in red and green and people make up more lies in honor of the biggest lie ever told by god’s favorite whore. Little baby Jesus was brought into the world, doomed from the start because of his slut mother and now Billy has to endure the awful awful holiday songs that loop themselves over and over in his head. It's a holly jolly nothing Billy’s never even seen a partridge in a pear tree!

The twinkling lights that everyone else seems to enjoy hurt his head. Too many of them cause blade-like streaks of visual distortion to start slicing his thoughts apart. Too many smells. Too many sounds. Cinnamon is too itchy, pine is too sneezy. Eggnog smells rotten like death. Bells. Singing. Commercial jingles screaming at you to BUY BUY BUY. Too many smiling little sluts spoiled rotten by their daddies. Sit on a fat old man’s lap and you’ll get all the lipsticks and panties that a slut could ever want!

He wants to belt out a Ho Ho Ho like Santa but all he can do is let his lungs expand with the sound that’s coming alive only to suffocate, stillborn before he can let it escape. He curls his toes and shifts his shoulders but nothing he does helps the noise find a way out. Santa is stuck inside of him and he wants the chubby old pervert out.

Billy wants to open his mouth like a baby bird. He wants to squawk and squawk but the only noise he can emit is weak, wet garbling that makes his jaw ache. The gag in his mouth is secured too tightly for him to speak. He can’t open his mouth any wider and drool spills helplessly from his lips. It runs down his chin to collect in the divot between his collarbones and his bottom lip is cold and wet like a puppy dog’s nose. Is he a puppy dog right now? Is he to be neutered here on this table?

Is Miss Piggy going to chop his balls off?

He almost wishes she would.

Billy’s balls ache. On second thought, they’ve gone past ache to downright pain. He doesn’t know how long he’s been trussed up on this table but ever since he can remember he’s been here with a thing attached to his cock. A thing that sucks and pumps with a mechanical chugging whirr that accompanies the pattern. It's tighter than his fist, tighter than any cunt he’s ever forced his way inside of. With each agonizing upward suck and downward pump, Billy’s thigh muscles twitch uselessly as he endures round after round of endless sensation. Sometimes the machine will slow, and he’ll find a millisecond of clarity only for it to whirr back up again, sucking and pumping faster and faster until Billy is wheezing through his gag. He feels like he’s being milked but Miss Piggy clearly doesn’t know how to use the machine because no matter how close he gets, he can’t fucking cum.

He needs to. He needs to so fucking bad. He’ll show you, Miss Piggy. He’ll show you what a good dairy cow he can be. If you’d just let him FUCKING cum then you wouldn’t need be so mean to him would you? Is this why you’re torturing him? You want a big load for your slut mouth? Are you gonna drink it, Miss Piggy? Are you going to play with it on your tongue? It’ll be thick like his cock… thick and gooey… Sticky gloppy slop for Miss Piggy’s hungry gullet. Miss Piggy wants a mouthful, doesn’t she? He bets you do. Miss Piggy is nothing but a hungry slut after all.

Clever slut, unfortunately. Clever piggy who managed to stick him on this table and attach a torture machine to his cock.

Mean. Awful. NASTY. Fucking SLUT.

He can’t see. Maybe he isn’t Billy anymore. Maybe he is a cow. Some prized stud being milked for his oh so fancy load. Maybe Miss Piggy wants a baby? Stupid skank, she could’ve gotten one if she just spread her fucking legs like a good slut. She didn’t need to strap him to this awful table. He would’ve fucked her good. He would’ve fucked her dead.

Sound clogs in his throat and the cow moo that he wants to perform is stuck in the too tight walls of his esophagus. He needs to let the noise out into the pasture but he can’t and now the cow is angry and braying, it’s a bull with big horns and it's stuck in Billy’s windpipe. He can't breathe, not even through his nose. Sudden panic makes him release a keening whine. The machine’s movement is shallow, the toy teases the first inch of his cock, up and down, up and down, over and over until he’s grunting and trying to thrash away from it. He's been teased past the point of sensitivity. It stings. He wants more. He wants to fuck the awful fucking thing in the way he wants to. None of this is fair and he fucking hates you for this. Billy manages to whip his head to the side, causing his muzzle’s buckle to slam loudly against the metal table. It's a good solid noise and the metal scrape of the buckle against the table is almost enough to keep him from forgetting how to breathe.

Desperate to feel something besides the never-ending tease, Billy would bite his tongue off if not for the gag preventing him from doing it. Beef tongue is a delicacy in some places. Porky Miss Piggy probably loves it. She probably loves a tough mouthful of muscle. She probably loves big, beefy cows. Big studs with abs and body hair and chiseled jaws. Miss Piggy would never look twice at someone like him. You’d never want someone shorter than you. Someone scrawny and with hair that's impossible to tame one way or another. You’re not a nice girl. You wouldn’t look past something like that. You don’t want him. You’d never want him. No one looks at him. No one sees him. Especially not girls. Nice girls don’t exist anyhow. He’d know if one existed.

You don’t want him. So WHY are you keeping him? Why are you doing this to him? It’s unfair. It's pointless.

It's MEAN.

Struggling and thrashing as much as he's able to causes more slobber collect in his mouth. While unable to spit or sputter, all he can do is uselessly drool onto himself. The machine is too uniform. Too tight. Too loud. Feels good but it’s too much. Feels awful but it’s not awful enough. The machine could rip his cock clean off and at this point, he might want it to. He wants to cum more than he wants to kill you and the thought makes him want to vomit. His throat tastes acidic, his shoulders ache. His ass has gone numb and a broken whimper creeps past his gag to get tangled up in the netting of his muzzle.

“Awww, does Billy need a break?”

For a moment your taunt sounds like his own voice and Billy’s stomach flips. He can’t remember the last time he's heard his name from anyone’s lips besides his own. In the near distance, footsteps come closer and closer. The sort of shoes you’re wearing clack against the floor. Soon, you’re close enough that he curls his fingers into fists as if to prepare to deck you right in the face even though he can't move his arms. Pretty piggy wouldn’t be so pretty with her face swollen and her nose bloody. He wants to cave your teeth in. He wants you to beg him to stop.

He wants your begging to turn weak and squelchy until you’re not speaking anymore.

He wants to beg you to let him go.

He wants to demand that you let him fucking cum.

Maybe he spoke his demand out loud because the machine stops abruptly and the vacuum suction loosens. It pops off of his prick and the immediate lack of stimuli feels like a slap to the face. It leaves him gasping and his dick throbs angrily, upset with its newfound freedom. Stupid thing. It wants back in. His balls hurt, they're heavy and pulled tight, the end of the sucking thing has been mashing into them for hours now and he feels as if his balls have been battered black and blue. Despite this, he jolts his hips upward with a whine, as he mindlessly seeks out the machine of his nightmares. Billy flexes his cock, making it bob in the air. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his fucking life and awful, awful Miss Piggy won’t do a thing about it.

Without warning, fingers are suddenly stroking through his sweaty hair. Miss Piggy pets him like a kitty cat. He’s not a kitty cat. He’s not yours to touch either. Your other hand settles on the side of his face, right where the muzzle covers his cheek and your thumb traces his jaw slowly. You coo at him, annoying and sharp. The insert wound is precise, its an icepick to the brain that nails in a heavy reminder of how much he hates you.

Completely overwhelmed and caught off guard, a deep growl begins to swell in his lungs to claw its way up past his lips. He coughs, choking on it and his dry throat convulses in protest. Unphased, you pet him through his coughing fit, offering false tones of sympathy as he struggles to breathe.

“Does Billy need some water?” You ask gently, still running your fingers through his hair.

Hearing his name is abrasive as sandpaper. He doesn’t like the way it sounds. It reminds him that he’s Billy. Sometimes he’s Billy, sometimes he forgets what he is. It’s not fair for you to remind him. His name isn't yours. It’s his. It's the only thing he has. He frantically shakes his head from side to side as best he can, trying to shake the sound of his name out of his ears.

“No?” You chuckle, sounding far away even though you’re uncomfortably close. “You don’t need anything at all? I guess I should leave then."

“No.” is spit from behind his gag and it comes out clearer than he thought possible. He tries again and again, further distorting the word with manic excitement in hearing himself speak. He repeats the word no until he doesn’t even know what he’s disagreeing with anymore.

When he inevitably quiets to take in a gasping haggard breath, you lift his head by pulling on his hair. His muzzle is loosened and you slide it from behind his ears to settle around his neck like a collar. The leather saturates in his drool and Billy thoughtlessly thrashes, fighting you even though he doesn’t know what he’s fighting against. He wants to be released from all the tight things that keep him from moving but your touch feels like a live wire. It's burning hot and he imagines his skin bubbling up pus-filled blisters. You’re branding him with your touch and pigs shouldn’t be allowed to do something like that.

He’s not cattle. He’s Billy. You’re not a rancher with a hot iron. You’re not even a person. You’re a stupid little whore who thinks she’s caught herself a stray to domesticate. You’re just the same as a shitty little girl whose parents condemned a hamster to die by giving it to her for Christmas. She’ll kill the thing in a few weeks. She’ll dress it up like a princess, feed it food that it shouldn’t eat, and then she’ll get bored of it and end up letting her pet kitty cat eat it as a snack. Maybe it’ll escape her chubby little fingers, but the stupid little thing is doomed nonetheless. It might as well get a few bites in. It might as well do its best to punish the mean little bitch and make fat tears roll down her stupid piggy face.

As soon as the gag is removed from his mouth, Billy snaps his teeth hard and takes a big bite of the air. The proceeding rattle in his skull has a deranged laugh tickling past his sore throat. The first chortle stretches and elongates into loud, heaving noises that grow deeper and closer to animal grunts. Just as he prepares to let out the loudest scream he’d ever attempted, you dig your thumb into the spongy meat of his cockhead, causing his scream to mangle itself into a groan.

His outrage falls apart and it flits weakly back into himself like broken tinsel pulled off a tree. The bullshit has the nerve to look pretty even as it becomes trash on the ground. You trail a fingertip down his overheated shaft and Billy forgets that he was previously trying to destroy your ear drums. Impulse takes over and he attempts bucking against your touch, trying to fuck himself against the barely there press of your fingertip. 

Billy's molars sink into his cheek, but trying to shut himself up is useless. It’s never been something he figured out how to do. He’s not in control of the noises that want to come out of him. He’s only the vessel. He’s not to be blamed for the mewling moan that dances excitedly into the room when you wrap your fingers around his stiff prick. That wasn’t his noise. Billy didn’t do it. If anything his cock is at fault. Stupid, stupid thing.

Stupid Miss Piggy’s somehow convinced his dick that a loose fist is all he needs to feel better. His eyes feel as if they’re going to roll back into his head and Billy shivers, overstimulated and under stimulated at the same time. The relief that he doesn’t want makes him wish he could peel his skin off. He wants it coiled up into tightly wound ribbons because you like pretty things like that. Maybe you’d clap your hands together and squeal like a piggy pig in excitement as you gush over the mess you’ve made of him.

You’ve ruined him. Used him like a cheap slut and none of it is fair.

You’re supposed to be dead. You’re not supposed to be doing this.

Wrong. Wrong. WRONG.

Billy barks out the acid that’s coagulated in his throat. He spits aimlessly in random directions and your claws subsequently sink into the meat of his cock which causes him to yelp in shock. With his senses all twisted up and tied together, the pain feels dangerously close to good.

“Touch it.” Billy croaks a strange tinny voice, sounding  similar to an old radio broadcaster. “Right on the money there ma’am. Hole in one!" He clicks his tongue a few times, "Touch it. Touch it. Tt-TOUCH IT!” The borrowed voice clips into another’s abruptly. The sportscaster fades into the loudmouthed news anchor that’s always complaining and bitching about some prowler out and about, someone called the moaner who goes around butchering pretty girls after tormenting them on the phone for weeks.

Your phone number displays itself digit by digit in his mind. Yes yes. You. He knows you. Miss mouthy cunt bitch. Miss Piggy’s got a big mouth. Miss Piggy is a tease. He'd hate you less if you learned how to suck cock rather than play at pretending you're something that you're not. He told you to put your pussy on the phone. He remembers that. At least he thinks he does.

It’s hard to think while he’s busy demanding for you to touch him in as many voices and accents as he can possibly recite.

The demands wind down down into a series of hiccups, he mimics the watery voice of some other whore. “It hurts. Please.” He whimpers high-pitched and feminine before belting out a pained wail. “It fucking HURTS.” His fingers twitch and he does his best to rotate his wrist in a way that his joints refuse to go, causing his wrist to pop and crack unnaturally. It hurts but he wants OUT. He wants to fucking cum. He wants to kill you in a thousand ways for this. You deserve it. You deserve something awful awful.

The loose grip around his dick lifts away and he mumbles the same plea from before. Mimicking the crying girl. This time, it comes out just a smidgen closer to his own inflection and tone. His voice no longer sounds so feminine. The whine he gives isn’t all the way a mimicry.

Footsteps. Footsteps. You stand at the head of the table, and Billy tries to tilt his chin up, he squints even though it's impossible to see through the blindfold. His tongue feels thick in his mouth, swallowing dryly he chews on his it and decides that his tongue is now a wad of mashed potatoes.

You’re going to make his dick fall off. You’re going to polish it and keep it above your fireplace. You’re going to use it to hang coats off of. He’s so fucking hard that he’ll probably stay like this forever. You’ll be dead. An unrecognizable pulpy puddle of broken bones and hair and the only thing left of him will be his dick standing up proud above your fireplace. You’ve doomed him just as you might as well have scrawled your fate in golden ink over the ending of one of those old fairy tales thats supposed to scare children into behaving.

It’s your fault. All your fault. Stupid, stupid PIG.

His blindfold is removed quickly enough that it pulls on a few strands of his hair and he grunts in surprise, grumbling wordlessly about the pinch. Billy blinks against the harsh overhead lighting with an accompanying hiss as the sudden assault of brightness burns his retinas. The ceiling light behind you frames your head like a halo, and looking at you hurts. Everything is too much, he can barely crinkle his eyes open and one of the only things he can register is the cruel smile on your lips.

He feels exposed. He wants to find somewhere cold and dark. He’s not meant to be here. You’ve done something wrong and you’ve stolen him from wherever he was supposed to be. The room feels too big and Billy chirps his discomfort out with cat like yowling. He wants to bash his head against the table but he can’t fucking MOVE.

Disinterested, you don’t react to his tantrum. You’ve gotten good at that. Billy’s short-term memory has always been shoddily stuck together with spit and dried cum, but he remembers bits and pieces about you. Sort of. It’s been a long time since you’ve been afraid of him as you should be.

You walk away from his field of view, your shoes clack their way into the distance and you return a few minutes later with a tray that you set gently on a nearby table. A faucet begins to run and the water reminds him of bashing cymbals and storm sirens. A crunched up slice of a memory trickles back into his consciousness and he’s wordless as he recalls something going in him. You stuck something in him! You shot water into him with a nozzle! You did! Pervert! Disgusting! You don’t DO that to people. Something is WRONG with you.

You’re a bad bad boy Billy! You’ve done bad bad things!

"Filthy Billy!" A memory whispers, "Billy, I know what you DID."

“We’re not cleaning you again.” You answer his increasing panic without being asked. The snap of latex gloves bites through the air and Billy’s lungs feel small like a bird’s. He's breathing too hard for the tiny amount of air that’s in his little bird body.

“I like it when you’re quiet. You can be cute when you shut the fuck up.” Your words are poison. They strike him individually with stinging tails.

As you re-approach the table, Billy feels as if his eyes are shaking in his skull. They're going to pop right out and deflate like old balloons. He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel scared, but right now he feels like a mouse caught in a glue trap. He feels small. His bones are hollow and brittle. The incoming waves of dread are almost enough to convince his cock to calm down. Almost. It flags down, curved toward his hip but it's still heavy with blood. Billy wonders if he could maybe flop it from side to side well enough to get himself off. Probably not, but he could try.

Already, he forgets what he’s worried about and he plays with his dick with the limited movement that he has, staring with empty eyes up at the ceiling. The light above him looks like a titty. It’s got a light pull and he thinks that the house is a slut for having pierced nipples. Of course you'd live in a slutty house. He’s never seen pierced tits before. He’s seen a lot of tits. But not decorated ones.

Your approach is ignored as Billy giggles over his mental dialogue, a chair scrapes against the floor and it isn’t until your glove-covered hand sets on his thigh that he falls back down into his body. He was off somewhere else, testing the way that the word titty felt in his mouth. The harsh T was a spitty sound. Makes sense for what the word meant, but then Miss Piggy rudely stole his attention. He looks down his nose, glaring while scrunching his lips up into a pout.

Ignoring him or just disinterested in his frustration, you pump something clear from a bottle into your other hand and Billy doesn’t have a moment to consider what it is before you hold his thigh once again and he’s reminded of the awful bar that spreads his legs. He twists, trying to invert his knees as if that would somehow stop you from pressing your slimy fingertips against his twitching hole.

“Pervert!” Billy screeches, using a stern old woman’s voice. It’s familiar and it makes him want to break something. It's a voice that reminds him of the true definition of hate. Perfecting her voice makes his eyes bug and goosebumps erupt over his skin. You tease the rim of his ass with a finger and Billy shudders. The sheer wrongness of the situation has his dick perking up to attention and Billy grumbles in annoyance at his traitor of a prick.

He’s always liked things he shouldn't. Dirty things. Naughty things.

Violent things.

But this was too far, wasn’t it? An affirmative, almost excited hum answers his question. It is wrong. It's definitely wrong. Billy wonders where the sound came from because he didn’t make it. No. You did. His stupid dick did. Something did and it wasn’t him. No. No. No.

“I get it now.” You laugh, “The only time you learn how to shut the fuck up is when you’re wanting something in your ass. Is that it Billy? You want me to fuck you you there?”

“No.” He finds his own voice and it's completely flat. Devoid of emotion. Devoid of tone. It sounds like a recording and he barely registers that he spoke. Straining his neck, he does his best to look only at the ceiling and the light above him.

“I don’t think I believe that.” You continue as you prod at his cock with your other hand. Stupid thing is stabbing into the air proudly, back at attention and Billy sucks in a breath through his teeth, stubbornly saying nothing. He’s not here. He’s not. This isn’t right. He’s somewhere else. He’s on the TV. He’s on the phone. He’s a recording of a disembodied voice and he’s anywhere but here.

Wordless chitters and vocalizations twist and tangle in his mind, they filter from his lips in broken pieces that end up sounding guttural and ragged. Your touch leaves him only for a moment and then you wrap a gloved hand tightly around his shaft. The gooey stuff on your glove is cold, but your upward stroke forces his eyes shut. The moan he gives is needy, and he hates the sobering reality of it. The mental clarity that he weakly tries to stitch himself to is quickly stolen and he doesn’t have time to light up the neon vacancy sign in his head before sick curiosity comes and settles itself into the groove of which coherence left.

Distracted by your hand on his cock, he barely reacts to your fingertip pressing into him. His lips and tongue test the shape of a word that he’s not sure he’s ever spoken earnestly before. It comes out in clipped bursts that barely sound like a word at all. He hopes that you can't decipher anything of what he’s saying because they mean nothing. The word please ends up translating into a harsh “Ghgh…” sounding noise but the tone is pleading nonetheless.

Slowly, you ease more of your finger inside of him and his brain feels as if he’s plugged too many strings of lights into the same outlet. His body feels like a tightly compressed implosion of bursting sparks that skitter onto the carpet in search of something flammable to consume. Hate and discomfort mutate themselves into consuming want and a greedy desire for more. You give him exactly that by stretching him open on another finger.

Billy’s always been greedy. Nothing is ever enough. Never enough hurt. Never enough shame. Never enough hate. He’s always cold. He’s never happy with staying in one place for too long. The only thing that pulls him from place to place is the need for more blood on his hands. He can never get enough of anything because it's impossible to get his fill of something that feels so fucking good. Nothing else gets him hard. The only release that feels right comes with destroying something nice. Breaking something pretty. Addicted to pleasure, he seeks it out through terror. He’s addicted to want and right now he feels the closest he’s ever been to full.

“Good boy,” You whisper, and the praise lifts to wrap tightly around his throat. He’s short of breath but the dizzying discomfort feels so good. Maybe dying feels good too. Maybe he’s doing all the little whores a favor by doing what he does to them. Lucky sluts. They didn’t even need to beg for it. He hunts them down like vermin, like rats and Billy didn’t even brag about getting rid of them! He’s not LIKE you. He doesn’t feel the need to gloat. He doesn’t feel the need to tease or draw things out so that they’ll fold into a neat little box in just the way you want. He likes a fucking mess. He likes the way that fear feels when it smells like iron and it squelches wetly between his fingers.

The auditory squelch of your hand pumping his cock feels makes him want to spit the noise back at you, he blows a raspberry with his lips only for his mouth to fall slack when you change the angle of your fingers in his ass. You brush up against somewhere that has bubbling pleasure spitting from his cock and drooling from his mouth. He wants to rock back against your fingers, wants to ride your touch like a whore. Useless noises float into the room, and Billy finally relaxes fully, releasing his white-knuckled fist and the tension in his shoulders.

His eyes are open but he can’t see. He’s not even sure if he’s still breathing. He’s drowning in everything you’re giving to him and suffocating never felt so good. His head is a mess of static and chopped-up beginnings of words and memories. The only thing anchoring him to his body is the sound your fist makes as you pump him up and down, almost as mechanical as the machine but the pressure is everything he needs. You’re taking this from him, and therefore he's not wrong for being helpless. You’re the one who’s being a pervert. You’re the one who’s doing something wrong.

“You’re doing such a good job, such a good little whore aren’t you Billy?”

He doesn’t hear your words but they brush up against him ticklishly, like a cat rubbing up against his legs. Your tone is comforting and he wants to rub his face against your words to better understand them.

“You’ve been fighting so hard… isn’t it easier to be a good slut for me? I like you better like this. Cum dumb and quiet.”

Billy grunts affirmatively without listening to you at all and you giggle in response. He doesn’t hate the sound of it. The bubbling laughter is soft and chewy like popcorn. His senses have given up trying to differentiate themselves from each other. Thought and feeling, touch and sound are all the same. His body's been replaced and all he has left is needy cock and a slutty fuck hole. He’s just the same as all the dead piggies who he left in similar states. Unmoving heaps. Messy puddles of what used to be a person. He’s just like them. Dead. Ruined. Used just like them. This is what he’s good for. Feels good to stop fighting.  He doesn’t need to stumble around near blind and confused while he hunts down something new to terrorize. He's not starving now. He doesn't have anywhere to go. He's not lost in his head and unsure where he is. Maybe he doesn’t need to drag himself from place to place in the cold. He can stay here. He’s dead anyway. He’ll stay here and and let stupid Miss Piggy touch his cock until he's a rotted husk.

“Fuck drunk slut.” You hum, clearly giddy with the state you’ve put him in. Drool spills from the corner of his mouth to puddle onto the table and Billy bubbles spit between his lips once realizing the mess that he’s making.

“So loud all the time, who knew that stretching your ass would get you to shut up. Maybe I should find something bigger than my fingers? Maybe Billy needs a plug. Do you want more baby?”

Maybe you meant to call him by his name, but the word baby makes him groan. He’s never liked babies. Crying, stupid things. It's an insult to call someone a baby but he feels like one right now. Helpless and barely in control of himself. The word doesn't make him something that he's not. He likes the way that the two syllables settle heavily over his body, pinning him down like an insect. No one’s ever called him baby before. He repeats the word, playing with the feel of it on his tongue. It’s is all smooth edges, it’s cold when he says it but warm in his thoughts. He repeats it in your voice and your resulting laugh doesn't sting.

Like this, he's not able to get lost between notes of sound. He’s not able to forget where he is. Each thrust of your fingers comes with a punch of pleasure that has him whimpering for more. The word please isn't swallowed, he openly begs because please is the only word he can perfect right now.

He’s not even aware of the fact that he’s coming until he feels bubbling hot spunk dribble from his slit. The rise and fall of his orgasm blends into the general wave of pleasure that he’s been asphyxiating on. No relief or finality comes even after his balls are drained and his cum is beginning to cool on his stomach. The weak notes of an overstimulated complaint manage past his lips as you stroke his softening cock firmly as if to make sure that you’ve milked him for all he was worth.

The retreat of your fingers feels strange, but he can’t do anything but whine about it. Billy’s head feels as if it’s full of concrete. There’s no room for thoughts. His limbs are heavy, he couldn’t struggle even if he wanted to. His head flops limply to his side and his cheek settles in a puddle of cold drool. Feels nice. Billy forgets to fight as you secure his muzzle back into place. You leave out the gag this time.

Good boys, behaved ones get presents right? Was this a reward?

Billy’s only ever gotten coal, but earning something feels okay. He looks at you with surprisingly wet eyes and the expression on your face is unreadable. He’s never been good at understanding people but he’d be proud if he was you. He always feels the best after standing amongst the mess of a fresh kill, the twisting delirium always simmers low once he can see and feel what he’d done. He can't always pinpoint where he is or what he’s doing, but touch and smell were things he could depend on. It's easiest to focus when there's no noise to be distracted by and there's no impulse left to wildly drag him from place to place.

Maybe he isn't himself right now. Maybe you’re on the table. Not him. That would make more sense anyway. Maybe he’s you. Maybe you’re him? Maybe Billy is somewhere else entirely and you’ve already done away with his remains.

Feels good to finally die. Feels good to remember what quiet sounds like.

Your fingers find their place in his hair and Billy shudders, eyes closing as he relaxes against your touch. He doesn’t need to be Billy right now and you don’t need to be Miss Piggy. You’re you and he’s whatever he is.

Feels good to understand something for once.

Thanks so much for reading! This is my comeback piece after a few months of writers block lol. Comments keep me inspired, I need your thoughts on the FUCKNASTY that went down here.

Also! Here's my masterlist with my other slasher x reader works.

[leosficlist]

Johnlock rec list by Author!

ScullysEvilTwin on Ao3 @scullyseviltwin

Scully has 64 fics under Sherlock (TV), and I wish I could rec every single one and drone on & on. Instead, here are a few of my favorites! They are a brilliant writer and I think they capture John and Sherlock very well.

What Remains Unsaid 5.5k

“Sherlock,” he says quietly, shifting over beneath the now-ruined quilt. “Do you want children?”

notes: established relationship, a compilation of times Sherlock was lovely with other’s children and them deciding to fight to have one of their own.

the suffering that is weathered 8.6k

“The magnitude of what they’re discussing seems as though it shouldn’t fit within the walls of 221B.”

notes: a stuttery, awkward, perfect conversation between John & Sherlock just trying their best.

Defying Convention 1.2k

“They fell in love ages and ages ago, but they’ve never spoken of it aloud."

notes: first time they say I Love You after getting together post Mary

Whatever Remains 2.6k

“You’re still in my bed,” are the first words John hears as he struggles up through the haze of a very satisfactory slumber.

The Nerve 7.1k

“You’re ticklish?” John ventures quietly and as Sherlock’s eyes shade stormy John grins and says more emphatically, “You’re ticklish!”

notes: tickling sherlock as an excuse to touch him. flirty, teasing sherlock first time

Impetus 11.9k words

“We going to do this properly, then?”

“Properly?” Sherlock parrots, a coy little smile touching his mouth.

John aims for aloof, licks his lips and poses, “Date, I mean. We’ve got a candle, wine…”

“If that’s all that’s required for a date, I’d say we had our first at Angelo’s years ago.”

Pillow Talk 5.1k

John has been looking at Sherlock for ages, it feels like.

The Rules of Home 4.9k

“The breaths that he emits are short and low but his eyes continue to shine, seemingly absorbing every point of illumination in the darkened entryway. “And how lucky for me, for me, that some anonymous Afghani perched on an anonymous hill missed his target.”

notes: discussion of john getting shot, mostly lovely flirting and first kiss confessions of forever, taking it slow

Share The Blame 4.5k

“John wants to tell Sherlock that he’s grateful for this moment of reprieve from the world, here in his home, with the one person in the universe that he knows he can rely on. John would never admit it aloud, but he’s not entirely surprised that it ended up this way, not really, not anymore. He was a divorcé who’d raised another man’s child for three months before the truth came out; he, happy to be back at home, finally back where he belongs, with a man who constantly keeps his world both slightly off-kilter and spinning evenly on its axis.”

Down Slow 4.7k

A quiet, warm evening in. Takeaway and tension, so much neither wants to break it.

notes: first kiss, first time, sensual

But a Flesh Wound 

John has an accident while making dinner and Sherlock... overreacts.

notes: fluffy fluff

by ScullysEvilTwin

[nekoma-not-lee]

TickleTober 2024 Masterlist

Here’s a new masterlist! And yes, once again I will be adding my self insert into a few of them bc I can’t resist. Also these are spoiler-free until you click the links that will be added eventually. On fandoms I’ve gotten through so far, there will be spoilers, but I will usually mark them as spoilers when I finish them and know for sure. So be careful to avoid spoilers (unless you don’t care)!

1. Anticipation

Honkai: Star Rail - ler!Caelus, lee!Dan Heng

Caelus was in a lee mood and was giving hints about it to Dan Heng. When Dan Heng finally get’s fed up, Caelus is surprised to find he won’t get what he wants so easily.

2. Chase

Genshin Impact - ler!Kinich, lee!Neko

After Neko finally got Kinich to join their party, they were in high spirits. But then they remembered the rules…and bolted. How will this game of chase end, I wonder?

3. Prank

Hunter x Hunter - ler!Gon, lee!Killua

Killua pranks Gon, chaos ensues!

4. Hide and Seek

Assassination Classroom - ler!Karma, lee!Nagisa

Nagisa wanted to see if he could beat Karma in a game of hide and seek. Let’s just say…he definitely lost.

5. Boo!

Ogus’s Laws - ler!Su Yuan, lee!Fu Yu

Su Yuan tried to scare Fu Yu by tasing his sides. Let’s just say that more than just a loud shriek left his mouth after that.

6. Cuddles

Vengeful Weapon, Tears of Poison - ler!Amelia, lee!Noam

Amelia and Noam are cuddling and then when Amelia’s hand brushes Noam’s side by accident, she finds out something new about him.

7. Fidget

Blue Exorcist - ler!Yukio, lee!Rin

Rin won’t sit still, so Yukio tickles him to expel his energy.

8. Nuzzles

Delicious in Dungeon - ler!Marcille, lee!Falin

This one is based on an image I found! Falin has a soft and warm tummy with feathers, so of course Marcille can’t help but bury her face in it.

9. Wake Up!

The Beastly Count After Dark - ler!Violetta, lee!Theobald

Theobald is refusing to wake up, so Violetta has resorted to…“drastic measures”.

10. Spidering

Your Turn To Die - ler!Sara, lee!Ranmaru

Ranmaru wasn’t paying attention to what Sara was telling him, something about Joe and Ryoko. So Sara tickles him to get his attention.

11. Hug

Genshin Impact - ler!Neko, lee!Ei

Neko is happy that Ei finally came home to join their team, but remembers the rules mid-hug and chaos ensues.

12. Mischief

Genshin Impact - ler!Aether, lee!Kinich

Aether finds out Kinich is ticklish, chaos ensues.

13. Win

This World Is Mine - ler!Charlize, lee!Wooyeon

As Charlize’s reward for winning a bet with Wooyeon, she tickles her.

14. Lose

Maria the Telepathic Animal Healer - ler!Maria, lee!Eins (minor ler!Glick)

Eins (surprisingly) started a tickle fight with Maria, and let’s just say he’s definitely lost this fight.

15. “Are You Ticklish?”

Demon Slayer - ler!Tanjiro, lee!Muichiro

Tanjiro get’s curious if Muichiro’s ticklish, and when he finds out the answer, let’s just say he’s more than pleased.

16. Cackle

Your Turn To Die - ler!Keiji, lee!Sou

Keiji finds out Sou’s ticklish, and let’s just say Sou’s laughter is absolutely adorable.

17. Raspberries

The Little Princess and Her Monster Prince - ler!Anthea, lee!Blake

Anthea wanted to cheer Blake up since he was sad, so wholesome tickles ensue.

18. Tickle Fight

I Woke Up As a Notorious Troublemaker! - switch!Christina, switch!Rufus

Siblings normally have tickle fights, right? So it made sense for these two, who weren’t fully related, to have one…right?

19. Secret

Obey the Flower - ler!Floria, lee!Cartel

Floria finds out Cartel is secretly ticklish and exploits this “weakness”.

20. Tease

Genshin Impact - ler!Neko, lee!Kaveh

Neko got a little angy that Kaveh refused to join their team. Come on! Their fashion sense is amazing! So they decided to wreck Kaveh…but not like he’s used to it from Alhaitham.

21. Costume

Omori - ler!Mari, lee!Sunny

Mari finds Sunny’s costume adorable, and can’t help but tickle the little guy!

22. Role Reversal

Witch’s Heart - switch!Ashe, switch!Noel

Ashe started it, and let’s just say Noel more than finished it.

23. Sweet

Genshin Impact - ler!Kaveh, lee!Alhaitham

Alhaitham keeps eating all the sweets, and Kaveh is less than pleased.

24. Joke

Genshin Impact - ler!Aether, lee!Lyney

Lyney tells a joke to Aether, Aether has one up his sleeve as well.

25. New Discovery

Baldur’s Gate 3 - ler!Shadowheart, lee!Draconis

Shadowheart didn’t know their partner was ticklish…or that Dragonborn could be ticklish like other races, so she clearly had to thoroughly explore this discovery.

26. Ticklish Kiss

Watch Out for the Dream Demon - ler!Yi Kui, lee!Lin You

Yi Kui tries to give Lin You a kiss on the neck, and finds out he’s super ticklish. He never knew humans could be so sensitive.

27. Non-Human Parts

Voltron- ler!Keith, lee!Neko

As soon as Keith discovered Neko was part Galra, he’d always wondered how their galran ears would feel. Today he found out, and let’s just say those fluffy kitty ears were more than just sensitive.

28. Spooked

Duchess’s Lo-Fi Coffeehouse - ler!Loanna, lee!Hartwin

Loanna accidentally scared Hartwin when going to his napping spot. So to calm him down, she tickles him!

29. Magic

Cultivator x Contract Spirit - ler!Tong Xi, lee!Zhi Yi

Tong Xi thinks he accidentally hurt Zhi Yi with one of his electricity attacks, but found out it just tickled…and of course he exploits it.

30. Trick-or-Treat

Your Turn To Die - ler!Kugie, ler!Kanna, lee!Sou

Sou is not pleased in being dragged along for trick-or-treating, Kanna and Kugie change his mind.

31. Aftercare

Your Turn To Die - ler!Reko, lee!Nao

Reko wrecks Nao pretty good, but now we get to see the lesbians cuddle afterwards.