#july double trouble

[littleslithewhump]

Day 18 – tickling

His body looks like a fucking pile of twigs. Just skeletal contours on the basement floor. He hasn’t moved since I set his shoulder. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of his chest, I might think the idiot had up and died on me. 

I nudge him with my toe. 

He wakes up, sluggish and dull. He makes his own eyelids look heavy. When he looks up at me, he barely seems to recognize what he’s seeing. 

“Come on, pet,” I tell him. “Sit up.”

He struggles to even do that, hissing in pain as he puts weight on his newly fixed shoulder. It’s funny. It’s pathetic. It makes me want to fuck him. It makes me want to crush his throat with my boot. 

I crouch beside him, grasping his swollen shoulder and shaking him lightly. He whines about it. 

“You’re so tired, aren’t you?”

He nods. 

“You know you’ve been bad, right? I give you a place to live, give you food, I even fucking wash you, and you try to run. You don’t remember who I am. You know I should keep punishing you, right?”

Tears leak out his eyes, and he swallows audibly. But he nods. I can hardly believe it. The self-obsessed prick broke down after only two weeks of harsh treatment. I knew it–I’d known all along he was weak. 

“Look at you. Begging me to hurt you.”  

A wet sob tears out his throat. 

He still has metal manacles jangling around his wrists and ankles. I pull at one experimentally, testing his give, his submission. To me. He’s light and mobile as dandelion fluff. 

“Pet. Know I’m kind to you. I’m as kind as I can be.” 

He bobs his head again, eyes crystalline with fresh tears. 

He doesn’t resist a bit as I scoop him up in my arms, carrying him up the stairs like my waifish betrothed. He’s shaking lightly, crying like a child, but I feel him cling to me. It’s almost sickeningly sweet. I want to tug on his hair and make him moan. I want to tear the fucker apart. 

When I lay him on the bed, his eyelashes flutter. 

“Soft, isn’t it, pet?” 

“M..mhm,” he murmurs. 

I pin his wrist into the cushion above his head, opening his body up to me. I trace my fingers up and down his ribs, thumb his hip bone. It makes him twitch, sensitive skin under my touch, covered in pretty bruises. 

He’s so fucking fragile. I squeeze the soft part of his waist, which makes him jolt. 

I tickle his armpits, along his ribs. He flinches and shudders, a confused giggle escaping him. 

I lay down beside him, kissing his face, rumpling his hair in my hand, tugging it gently. He squirms, trying to reciprocate, I know. But too weak to manage it. It’s an intimacy I haven’t allowed him before. 

“Thank me, pet,” I murmur to him. 

He swallows again. “Thank…thank you.” 

“Good boy.” 

It’s more fun than I’d thought it would be, so I keep tickling him. Scratching him lightly with my nails, finding his sensitive spots, finding what makes him wiggle, hearing him laugh. When he tries to pull away, I hold him close, slinging an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against me. 

I lick up the tears dribbling down his face, rubbing my fingers lightly on the sensitive inside of his thighs, making him open his legs for me, through a strained little giggle. 

After stripping myself, coating my fingers in lube to prevent me from chafing, I push my fingers inside him. I squeeze his waist, holding him against me, which makes him moan and shudder breathlessly. It’s gorgeous; pleasure wrinkling up his brow. I push my cock inside, rocking into him steadily. 

I hold his face in my hand, keeping his face tipped toward me, slapping gently when he tries to close his eyes. “Focus on me, sweetheart,” I whisper. 

He cries the whole time, yes–but he begs prettily, begs for his release, for my release. For me.

Taglist:

@whumped-by-glitter

[charlidrawz]

Hello Psychonauts Tumblr

I offer you a doodle I started a little while ago & decided to clean up of everyone's favorite boy

[thereigning-lorelai]

sunset curve + being 💕 cute ghosts 💕

[harveyverse]

flynn taylor 💗✨ julie and the phantoms moodboard 5/?

[invisibleraven]

bumping hips while brushing teeth next to each other <- Flynn &/ Julie?

Sleepovers at the Molina household had become a weekly staple for Flynn. Fridays nights she would pack her bag, say goodbye to her parents, and head over to Julie’s house.

By this point Ray and Rose told her to just walk in, not to bother knocking, and to help herself to the kitchen. Which was good when supper at her house had been something involving alfalfa sprouts and quinoa.

They usually watched a movie, gossiped and did their nails all while snacking and giggling. It was nice, for Flynn who was an only child and often lonely, and Julie who was shy before Flynn, so she didn’t have many friends.

They used to invite Carrie, but she had stopped coming ages ago so they didn’t even bother trying any more. It had taken a while for them not to feel the void of her absence though.

“Bedtime girls,” Rose stated as it got close to midnight. “We’re making pancakes for breakfast and I don’t want you falling asleep in your syrup.”

She always gave the both of them a hug before she went up-something Flynn loved since neither of her parents were the touchy feely type. Sure they loved her, but sometimes she missed mom hugs.

By this point, Flynn barely needed to bring anything but clothes when she stayed over-Julie had gotten her a toothbrush and a silk head-wrap for her braids. Flynn loved her for that, putting it on as Julie braided her curls, her fingers coating the strands in coconut oil making the bathroom smell tropical.

Flynn got the toothbrushes ready, handing Julie hers, hip checking her playfully as she did. Julie grinned and bumped her back, making them giggle.

When they were younger they would use the toothbrushes as microphones, singing loudly and purposefully off key, whatever song came to their mind. Only stopping when either Carlos or Ray would come in, either scowling or joining in.

Now they might sing a song they had written-or Julie would ask for help when something she was working on stumped her. Flynn wasn’t much for piano melodies, but she helped as much as she could.

Tonight though, they were happy enough to do a little dance as they brushed, bumping hips together as they did, finally refreshed and bursting into more giggles as they headed off to bed.

Julie’s bed was big enough for the both of them, even though they had to toss of her multitude of pillows onto her little yellow couch. Leaving the fairy lights on as they whispered into the night.

Julie dropped first-she always did, much more of a morning person as opposed to Flynn. Though Flynn had also drank her full of soda-a forbidden substance in her house-so she knew it would take longer for her to drop.

It was okay though, since she had to get up to turn off the lights, closing the curtains, and then sliding back into the bed. Finally stifling a yawn as Julie’s breathing evened out.

And Flynn smiled as she turned to the side, seeing a bunch of photos of the two of them littering the wall nearest her. Photos that were covering the walls of her own bedroom as well.

With room for more, because Flynn knew no matter what, there would never be an end to their friendship, even if the sleepovers did.

[narcissusbrokenmirror]

this is not my hottest take really. But sometimes im gald they never renewed jatp. Because the way Netflix is, they probably would've ruined the show, bc they don't know how to present teen shows without making them oversexualized and weird (as we can see w shows like Riverdale and The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, all shows i enjoyed at first, but eventually dropped bc where tf is the plot.). I also dont wish that Disney would've taken over, i was in the The Owl House fandom y'all, Disney is not any better, they're racist homophobic bigots. And at last, but not least, the writers strike!!! All the main cast of jatp is supporting it, if we had the show going on for a secons or third season rn, we wouldn't get it anyway.

So, do i miss them? Hell yeah. Do i want more of the show? Yeah!! Do i think that the characters got what they wanted? No. Did they developed enough? No. Is the story close to and end? Fucking hell no.

But the show has done enough for a good first season, it established the characters' background, it brought them together, it opened doors for other future plots, it showed every character's potential for change and development.

[daintyduck99]

One more: “You can’t even hide your smile. So, spill. Who is this mysterious person that makes you all giddy and insufferable?” for Flynn & Julie, and you can choose who they are smiling about.

“Who did you meet?”

Julie plasters on her who, me? smile, but drops it quickly as Flynn simply continues to stir her coffee with an unimpressed look.

“What makes you think I met someone?”

Flynn waits for the waitress who stops by to take Julie's order and walk away, but she's practically vibrating to answer.

It's probably also a byproduct of how much caffeine she's had, but Julie won't mention that. She's trying to stay on her good side.

“Please,” Flynn starts, laying her hands flat on the table. “The difference in how you're acting compared to earlier? Night and day. And it's not a song, or you'd be humming.”

“You've seen me for all of five seconds,” Julie says, feeble to her own ears.

Flynn scoffs. “And I've known you for forever. You always get a dreamy look in your eye and a silly grin on your face whenever you're interested in someone new—and they're usually a musician.”

Well. She's not wrong. And maybe Julie was smiling like that when she walked in.

But the guy she'd bumped into at the music store had had really good taste! And talent, if the way he spoke and the calluses on the hands that had steadied her were any indication.

He'd also had a really great laugh, and kind eyes. Swoopy dark hair. Cute face.

“Aha!” Flynn cries, jarring Julie from her thoughts. “You can't even hide your smile.”

Damn. Julie tries, but his face is too fresh in her mind, his laugh too bright in her ears, the ink too fresh on her skin. She couldn't conjure another expression right now even if her life depended on it.

Flynn leans back, smug and triumphant.

“So, spill. Who is this mysterious person that makes you all giddy and insufferable?”

It's Julie's turn to scoff. “Insufferable?”

“You can be, when it comes to romance.” Flynn shrugs. “I'm calling it early.”

Julie toys with her napkin, glancing haplessly toward the kitchen. Maybe if she's lucky, the waitress will save her.

She's not, though, and Flynn's waiting.

“It's—I don't know him. I like him—I really like him already—but it's hard to be as optimistic as you after—after everything.”

Flynn waves this away with a flap of her hand. “So your last few dates were duds. That's mostly Tia's fault. But Jules—”

She snaps to regain Julie's attention as she glances toward the kitchen again.

“Jules, you floated in here. Listen, I’m telling you, this one could be different!”

Julie takes a deep breath. “I hope so.”

“Good! So tell me about him. What all do you know? You at least got a name, right?”

Julie pushes up her sleeve to reveal the name and number on her arm, glistening in purple marker and a neat, slanted font.

Flynn squeals.

She also ends up squealing the loudest at the wedding, so Julie can't be too miffed about the well deserved I told you so's.

[boonalina]

Just wanted to blast from the past. For new viewers wondering, Raine Whispers won btw. The poll ended months ago.

I'm mostly posting this so that I can change my background photo lol.

I give full permission for anyone to use this picture. ~Bonnalina

[jatp-scrapbook]

julie’s sparkly microphone

[darkphoenix180]

Double Trouble appreciation post. One of the best friendship duo's ever!

[littleslithewhump]

Day 20 - food play

My pet is chained to the leg of the bed by his collar, still languid and tired from coming in the bath. I’ve left his arms manacled behind him, the key to the padlock settled in my pocket. It’s a satisfying image, him, curled up on the carpet.  

I kneel next to him, pulling him to sit up, raking my fingers through his hair. “We’ll rest, pet. And then I have to work, unlike you.” 

He’s very still under my fingers, so I tug gently on his strands until he murmurs, “Ok, sir.” 

The fawning language makes me ruffle him, makes me hold water to his lips. He drinks thirstily, squeezing his eyes shut. When the bottle is empty, I remind him, “I take care of you. What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Good. Now open your mouth.” 

He parts trembling lips. I feel him inhale as I wedge my thumb into the corner of his jaw, keeping his throat open and visible. In my other hand, I lift up an inflatable gag–attached to a breathing tube, luckily enough for him. 

He gags as I feed the tube down his throat. “Sit still.”

It breaches the bend, and he retches. “Swallow, pet.” 

It nestles deep in his throat, settling until I fit the inflatable part of the gag behind his teeth and begin to pump it, swelling and ballooning until it fills his mouth before I seal it off. 

“Try to make noise, pet.” 

I see his throat work, see his chest and stomach flutter as he tries to gag and cough. 

Not a sound. Just the whisper of breath through the breathing tube. 

I smile at him, pinching his ear gently. “Good. Good.” 

I push him to lie down again. “Once I get a good night’s sleep and come back from work, we’ll put your mouth back to work.”

–

Fucking hate work. Hate the middling position the world has left me with. Hate that my value isn’t seen. 

I give my pet a few kicks in the ribs before I go to let it out. He writhes. He’s utterly silent.  

–

I’m early getting home. A package of protein sits on the porch–my pet’s food, to replenish what I ran out of a few days ago; my pet’s complete silence is a reassurance that the delivery person wouldn’t glean a single thing. 

Setting the box on the counter, I brush my hands together, and head to the bedroom.

He’s right where I left him, curled pathetically on the floor, trying to tuck his knees to his chest to protect himself. 

He winces when I touch his bicep, struggles to obey when I tell him to sit up. 

I deflate the gag. He breathes out, gags as I pull the breathing tube from his throat. Heaves in open-mouthed breaths, deeper than he’s been able to for hours. 

“What do you say, pet?”

“Th–thank you.” His voice is throaty, nasally–sore from the tube, sounding like he would when I’d use his throat. I squeeze my cock at the sound of him.

“Get into bed,” I command. 

It’s a pathetic little wriggle to get to his feet, to seat himself on the bed, to lay down so I can pull him on top of me, make him do the work to get me off. I rest my hands under my head, watching him, pleased at his struggle to rub against me without being able to use his own hands. Deserved, after my work.

I do help him, eventually. He tells me he’s grateful for it as I finger him open, as he rides me until I finish. 

He’s completely soft, but I’m sure he’s just tired. Famished. 

“You need to eat, don’t you, pet?” 

He glances at my face before nodding. 

“Ok.” 

When I get to the kitchen, I realize–I’ve been giving him a bottle, but why? He is my pet, after all. 

I mix his serving, sludgy and grainy, into a shallow bowl. An old dog dish, my dog long ran away. 

He’s sitting up in the bed when I return, glancing at the dish with a trace of confusion. 

I set it on the hardwood floor of the hallway, between my feet. 

“Come and get it, pet. Your leash is long enough.”

He stands slowly, his knees wobbling as he takes a single step before dropping to his knees and shuffling over, unable to crawl. 

He looks up at me once he’s close, the chain bouncing against the knobs of his spine, clinking against his manacles. 

“Go on.”

He kneels over the bowl, his abdomen straining and tensing to hold even his minute weight up without the help of his hands, to not fall face-first into his dinner.

“So fucking shameless,” I tell him as he sucks at the shake at my feet. It makes me flood with renewed interest in fucking him, in grinding him into the dirt. “Grubbing at my feet. Right where you belong.” 

I see him nod at the comment. 

When he slows, having to sit up to give his core a break, I shove his face back into the bowl, my hand at the back of his neck. He whimpers, but keeps drinking it up, his muscles straining and trembling like crazy. 

“Lick the bowl, pet. Don’t let anything go to waste.”

I hear him lap at the bowl, ragged inhales breaking through his licking. 

I kick him back when he’s had enough. It’s as easy as kicking a football. He’s shaking and flinching on the carpet once again, but isn’t whining about it, thankfully. 

I rinse the bowl for tomorrow, and order myself a steak.    

Taglist:   

@whumped-by-glitter

[milehighmechanic]

@glacierfront

tony is.... not his normal self. which, well, he'd challenge anyone to spend three months in a cave and come back normal. and that's fine, because everyone seems to expect him to be different, just not in the ways he actually is different. fortunately there's only about three people whose opinion he cares about.

and he flew. he was airborne for less than a minute, probably, but he flew. now, with what feels like the world closing in around him, he can't get that feeling out of his head.

"hey," he says to julie, when he surfaces from the workshop, because it doesn't even cross his mind not to share this with her. "hey, you want to see something cool?"

[preoccupied-educator]

The hope and love and encouragement on Flynn’s face when the camera cuts to her just before Julie’s class performance 😩

I just- hold on imma need a minute 😭

[innytoes]

More head canons!! I'd love to hear more Pacific Rim/Giant Robot AU from you?

Okay so for the people who aren't awesome enough to be on the @secretlovesongsfest discord, PACIFIC RIM AU.

-Reggie and Flynn are mechanics. They have a scoreboard on who makes the most people swoon in their matching outfits of overalls knotted at the waist + white tanktop.

-Sunset Curve is a robot until it almost loses a fight and has to be pretty much rebuilt, it's redubbed The Phantom. Bobby and Luke piloted the first, after Bobby retires due to, you know, Trauma, Luke and Julie pilot the Phantom.

-Dirty Candi is more of a Power Ranges robot, every Candy has their own limb/Carrie at the head. They are SUPER COORDINATED to pull that shit off.

-See 'em look, hear 'em Ooh-Aah, My Giant Robot Has a Bazooka.

-Willex robot is tie-dye. Or maybe pink and sparkly. It's named something atrocious like Hotdog.

-Willie has tried to convince Reggie and Flynn to make him a giant metal folding chair to beat up the monsters so many times but they keep denying him.

-Alex is an exceptional pilot but he wasn't drift compatible with anyone before Willie. Like, in a pinch he and Luke could do it, but it never flowed as easily as it did with Willie. Willie says the fast anxious pace of Alex' brain feel like skating down a hill really fast.

-Rose used to be a Jaeger pilot too, hers was Petal Pusher. Ray is very proud of his daughter but very sad she has to follow in her mom's footsteps.

-The base-wide talent competition is brutal. Like, they're all a team and family and they respect eachother except when it comes to the once a year talent show and then IT IS ON.

-Reggie has a doggo that functions as emotional support animal for the entire base, sometimes you just need to ask Reggie if you can hug Ellie for a few minutes. Or hours.

-Reggie and Flynn can and will again do an entire shift with Greased Lightning playing on a loop and you cannot stop them. Better invest in earplugs.

Send me an AU and I will give you 5 or more headcanons about it

[jmrothwell]

Sunset Curve is plagued by prank photos featuring two faded mystery women. Reggie knows Double Trouble are the ones in the photo, he just doesn't know why.

Double Trouble propose a way to figure it out.

[invisibleraven]

and maybe telling each other how proud they are of them for Julie & or / Flynn? 🙏

Flynn, as a rule, usually slept in until she absolutely had to get up. Meaning Julie had adjusted what time she swung by the Taylor's house to pick her up before school. Even if Flynn still usually took another few minutes before coming out.

This day, however, was different. As she pulled up in front of the sensible two story, Flynn was already waiting at the mailbox, clutching a large envelope so hard she was going to crease it. She hopped into the car, and buckled up.

"Drive."

"Well good morning to you too," Julie muttered as she pulled out of the driveway, heading towards the school.

Only seniors were allowed to use the parking lot, and her dad had been very uneasy about handing over the keys to her mom's old wagon, but now it was hers. Flynn had yet to pass her driver's test, despite multiple tries, and Julie wasn't about to make her best friend ride the bus.

"So what's with the envelope you've got a death grip on?" Julie ask when they were less than a nile from school.

"College acceptance letters," Flynn replied tersely. "My whole future is in my hands and I'm too scared to open them."

Julie pulled into her assigned spot in a flash and turned to Flynn. "You want my help?" Flynn nodded, and oh so slowly handed Julie an envelope that was half the size of the one she was still not letting go of.

"Let's see...NYU? Fancy. But you didn't get in babe, I'm sorry."

Flynn shrugged, she knew NYU was a long shot, and she hadn't set her heart on it. The one she wanted was still in her hands. Julie laid one her own hands over it.

"You got this okay?"

Flynn nodded and blew out a breath before ripping open the envelope and thrusting it at Julie. "You read it."

JUlie gingerly loosened Flynn's hold on it and pulled the first sheet out. "Dear Miss Taylor we are pleased to offer you a spot at the Fashion Institute of Technology!"

Flynn shrieked, bouncing in her seat, Julie joining right along with her.

"Oh my goodness babe I am so proud of you!" Julie exclaimed after they had gotten their screaming out.

"Thanks," Flynn said, scanning over the rest of the letter. She was really doing it, becoming a real fashion designer, from one of the best schools in the country! But when she looked at Julie, she was swiping a tear away. "What's wrong boo?"

"I'm just going to miss you so much," she confessed, offering a watery smile.

Flynn sniffled at that. Julie wasn't headed to college-a major label had picked up The Phantoms and were going to sign them after graduation. They would be working on an album and touring the country while Flynn sat through classes.

"Well we can chat all the time, and I will buy every ticket for when you're touring NYC."

Julie laughed at that, pulling Flynn in for a hug. "But what if we fail?"

"You won't," Flynn assured her. "You are Julie fucking Molina, you have more talent in your pinkie toe than half the hacks on the radio. You're gonna be a superstar boo, and I am so proud that I get to watch you rise."

They hugged tighter, Julie resting their foreheads together, while Flynn hooked their pinkies together. "We're gonna do great," Flynn whispered. "Take the world by storm. I'm gonna design you a killer Grammys dress and if the himbos drive you bonkers, you can come camp out in my dorm."

Julie giggled at that. "Deal."

Flynn smiled, then swiped at her eyes to make sure her look was still preserved-no real damage. "Now come on, we have three more months before we can kiss this place goodbye, so we better get 'em over with."

JUlie grinned, grabbed her bookbag and linked arms with Flynn getting inside and to homeroom just before the tardy bell rang. Flynn tossed her a wink, and Julie knew that even though the future was scary, and would be hard at times, they would through this-they always did.