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highlordofkrypton · 3 months ago

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SUMMARY: In the Spring Court, birthdays are not celebrated past the age of six... or so Tamlin thinks. His brothers surprise him with a secret tradition.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Although it's my birthday, I wanted to gift everyone in this wonderful community with warmth, joy and a little silliness. I'm so deeply grateful for all of you, both in how welcoming you all have been to me, and how supportive you all of my shenanigans. The kindness you all have shown me... I don't have the words to show the depths of my appreciation. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart 💕

READ ON AO3 OR BELOW THE CUT.

"Io, do you have everything?"

"Yes," Iolin sighs softly. "Are you sure this is the correct approach? I thought I was going to die when you first did it to me."

"And I still think you're the most dramatic out of the three of us." Enfys grins. He glamours himself to look like nothing at all—just a ghost through which all the light filters through. "Just go get ready, you worry wart. I've got all the hard parts to do."

The younger Spring son rolls his eyes. Let it be known that he does not��approve, and it's clear on his face, too. A delicate frown on his kind features as he sighs again. Enfys berates him, reminding him of the old adage, 'if you keep sighing like that, a wind wisp is going to lodge itself inside you'. Iolin knows that's not how that works, but he laughs anyway and makes his way into the dark and dense forest that surrounds their home.

***

Tamlin flips and flops. His limbs are heavy and lazy noodles on his too-big bed. It's hot, and he's not really sleepy. Then again, he's an adult now. At the big age of seven, he needs to sleep right on time because he's going to have responsibilities. So, he has to sleep.

His ears twitch, and he sits up suddenly. He scans the room because he's super-duper-really-very sure that he heard something. His little nostrils flare, but before he can put his nose on this mystery, he's snatched out of his bed.

Wriggling and thrashing, the little Faerie doesn't get very far because whoever has him is much bigger and much stronger. Tamlin's arms are pinned to his side, but he swings his leg, getting his kidnapper real good.

"Oof," says the invisible stranger.

Tamlin sharpens his teeth, chomping on the hand that slipped from covering his mouth.

"Ow! Fuck!"

He lands on his feet, rolling away as he's dropped onto the carpeted floor of his room. Tamlin grins, laughing breathily as he bolts towards the door.

"No, you don't," snarls the intruder, and he catches Tamlin by the waist.

He flails and flails to no avail, caught once more. He's at the mercy of his kidnapper, flying out the window as they get further and further away from safety. Tamlin thinks (off) his feet, and halfway across the grounds, he manages to half-shift into a snake, slipping out of his brother's kidnapper's arms. The stranger catches him again, and Tamlin has to stifle his giggles as he's carried off into the forest.

Whoever this mystery person is takes him towards his favourite clearing. At the centre, a small fire burns and his other brother looks on curiously.

"Cauldron, are you licking me?"

Tamlin can't help but laugh this time. Enfys lets him go and sets him down, removing his glamour. Logs have been placed around the fire, and Enfys takes his place on one of them.

"Well, he seems to be taking it better than when you first kidnapped me."

"He screamed. It was embarrassing. I got five lashings for 'waking up the baby'," Enfys rolls his eyes. He plucks a hand-rolled cigarette from his pocket, and holds it up to the fire. Enfys doesn't normally smoke; it would be incongruous with his picture perfect role as the Spring Court's pinnacle warrior.

"What's this? I'm supposed to be sleeping," Tamlin asks his brothers. He watches as Iolin uncorks a flask; his hands have minor burns, and that worries Tamlin.

"Toad's milk. It was a pain to get," Iolin explains, following his baby brother's gaze. "So, enjoy it." For the rest, he allows their eldest brother to explain.

"This is our birthday celebration. Six is the last year the Court recognizes your birthday, so the two of us usually meet up once a year to celebrate… surviving," Enfys shrugs. He hands the smoke to Tamlin who's green eyes go big and wide. Tamlin takes it, inhaling the same way his brother does. It sends tickles down his whole body, as if ants are dancing across his skin, and his head eases, like releasing a muscle or getting scratchies. It feels nice, except for the coughing. That's less pleasant.

"There are a few rules," the eldest Spring son continues. "First, we do not speak about father, his rules or his business. This is about us. Second, no matter how we feel about each other, we always show up. Third, gifts. This is your first year, so you are excused."

Tamlin understands not wanting to include their father. He made the rule that after six, little Faeries aren't carried anymore, and they don't celebrate birthdays with their friends across Prythian. But…

"What about mama?"

"What about mama?" Their mother's voice chimes softly. Leaves crunch under he boots and she holds her skirts in her hands as she steps over the log. Iolin gets a kiss on his head, and Enfys gets a kiss on his cheek as she sits next to him. Tamlin, of course, gets to climb into her lap and hug her ferociously.

"Mother!"

"The last rule is you can relax here. No formalities. Mama is just fine," Lady Margret grins, kissing her baby on the nose.

The toad's milk is spicy, venom curling down their throats and warming their belly. Tamlin has never seen his family like this, happy and relaxed. Those moments were always stolen, but here, he has never seen the dutiful Enfys smile like that or the brilliant Iolin get caught off guard so often. Their mother is so witty, and though Tamlin doesn't always get her quips, the flush on his brother's cheeks tell him everything he needs to know.

He watches them carefully, and his cheeks hurt from smiling. What a wonder.

"Gifts! We should do gifts," Iolin grins. He digs through his bottomless satchel. "For my beloved baby brother, I gift you an infinite charcoal from the Autumn Court, and an endless scroll from the Winter Court. To practice your writing whenever you want, and never needing to look for parchment."

Tamlin hops off his mother's lap to get his gifts, grinning happily and sitting next to Iolin. He writes a thank you note on the scoll, and shows it to his brother who hugs him.

"For my old fart of a sibling, I have perfected a concoction to help you on the battlefield or in bed. Whichever you prefer, just adjust the dosage. I've written it on the label, you can still read? Right? You big oaf?" Iolin tosses the vial over to his brother who catches it with a smug look.

"As if I'd need this. Thanks, I guess." But the smile on Enfys' face never fades.

"And for mother who insists on never getting any gifts every year, I have, once again, refused to listen." Iolin pulls out a large canvas from his bag, and turns it to face his mother and brother.

Lady Margret bursts into such sudden laughter, she even starts crying. Enfys, on the other hand, looks terribly embarrassed. He argues with Iolin, gesturing at the portrait dramatically.

"I wanna see, I wanna see!" Tamlin peers to see what his family is looking at. Iolin turns the canvas to show a portrait of Enfys with his eyebrows blown off, and ash freckled across his face. He looks shocked, and his dark blonde hair sticks up wildly. He starts giggling too because he's never seen his older brother look so silly.

"Our beloved older brother wanted to prove that anyone can do fire magic, especially since the wind is at our command. I may have stoked the fire too hard."

"I will cherish this forever," Lady Margret wipes tears from her eyes and accepts the gift. She hugs it to her chest as Enfys glowers, but he doesn't feel mad, not really.

"It's your turn, grumpy," Iolin teases.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Enfys grumbles, pulling out a pile of gifts wrapped in large leaves. He tosses all of them to each member of his family without preamble. They gifts speak for themselves. Not everyone needs to yap like Iolin.

Tamlin tears his gift open, eyes widening at the sight of the brand new fiddle. It's so shiny and carved in a beautiful redwood. He can't stop running his fingers over it. He didn't know Enfys noticed or cared. His brother and his mother seem equally fascinated by their thoughtful gifts—a new alchemy toolkit for Iolin, and a beautiful embroidered handkerchief for their mother.

The little Fae hops off his log to run back to the other side, where his mother and older brother are. He climbs onto Enfys' log and hops onto his shoulders, hugging his neck and thanking him with a happy chomp of his ear.

Enfys laughs and flips Tamlin over, so he lands into his arms.

"Yeah, yeah, you better get me something good next year," Enfys grins and tickles Tamlin's sides.

Lady Margret's gifts are simple. She bakes special cookies for them—the kind that she would never allow inside the manor. It would go against every rule of etiquette, but she's already cried of laughter once tonight, and no one will know if the cookies have her so air-headed that she snorts her joy away. Today is special. They can be as strange and as free as they like.

After one bite, Tamlin nearly floats away, and his oldest brother has to anchor him by holding his hand. He can't stop laughing, though.

"This is the best day ever! But I wanna give gifts, too!"

"Maybe when you're not on the verge of floating off into the skies, sprout," Enfys clips.

"No, help me!"

That's how the Spring Court's fiercest and most dutiful warrior ends up braiding flower crowns with his baby brother. Tamlin picks each flower carefully, ones that represent each member of his family, and teaches Enfys how to weave delicately. Their mother gives helpful tips that only serve to annoy her eldest.

Although his previous birthday drew in High Faeries from near and far, Tamlin will always remember this special night of little kindnesses. Despite all the gifts, his favourite one of all was finally meeting his brothers and his mother, and seeing them for all their joy.

#my fics #tamlin #pro tamlin #acotar #acotar fanfiction

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gardenschedule · 7 months ago

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Perceptions of Paul as calculating & John's paranoia

“McCartney’s mistake, which he now admits, was to seem invulnerable. […] And yet, he says, the contrast between himself and Lennon, so assiduously cultivated by journalists, was a fabrication. “I wasn’t brilliant at school. I was trouble, just like John. I got caned practically every day, and the only exam I ever passed was Spanish. John and I weren’t black and white, although people took John, for all his aggression, to be the good guy, because he showed his warts. I’ve only just realized, after all this time, that people like to see warts. It makes them sympathetic. I’d always though that, in order to be liked, you had to be unwarty.””

Living with The Beatles’ legacy, the smears that Lennon left behind… and the battle to win my babies back, The Times Newspaper, Monday January 4, 1982.

Paul was the easiest to talk to. He had such energy and such keenness and, unlike John, enjoyed being liked, at least most of the time. I don't see this as a criticism; John himself could be very cruel about Paul's puppy dog eagerness to please. The irony was, and still is, that John's awfulness to people, his rudeness and cruelty, made people like him more, whereas Paul's genuine niceness made many people suspicious, accusing him of being calculating. Paul does look ahead, seeing what might happen, working out the effect of certain actions, but he often ends up tying himself in knots, not necessarily getting what he thought he wanted. I think there is some insecurity in Paul's nature, which makes him try so hard, work so hard. It also means he can be easily hurt by criticism, which was something that just washed over John.

Hunter Davies, Western Mail: The Beatles. (April 9th, 2004)

Even Paul’s immaculate manners could not thaw her. ‘Oh, yes, he was well-mannered–too well-mannered. He was what we call in Liverpool “talking posh” and I thought he was taking the mickey out of me. I thought “He’s a snake-charmer all right,” John’s little friend, Mr Charming. I wasn’t falling for it. After he’d gone, I said to John, “What are you doing with him? He’s younger than you… and he’s from Speke!”’ After that, when Paul appeared, she would always tell John sarcastically that his ‘little friend’ was here. ‘I used to tease John by saying “chalk and cheese”, meaning how different they were,’ she remembered, ‘and John would start hurling himself around the room like a wild dervish shouting “Chalkandcheese! Chalkandcheese!” with this stupid grin on his face.’

Philip Norman, Paul McCartney: The Life. (2016)

“He always suspected me. He accused me of scheming to buy over Northern Songs without telling him. I was thinking of something to invest in, and Peter Brown said what about Northern Songs, invest in yourself, so I bought a few shares, about 1,000 I think. John went mad, suspecting some plot. Then he bought some himself. He was always thinking I was cunning and devious. That’s my reputation, someone who’s charming, but a clever lad. “It happened the other day at Ringo’s wedding. I was saying to Cilia [Black] that I liked Bobby [her husband]. That’s all I said. Bobby’s a nice bloke. Ah, but what do you REALLY think Paul? You don’t mean that, do you, you’re getting at something? I was being absolutely straight. But she couldn’t believe it. No one ever does. They think I’m calculating all the time.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

In the wake of his death you didn’t tour for most of the ‘80s. People suggested that you were scared to go on the road. Was that true? No. People speculate about anything. They always credit me with motives I haven’t even dreamed of. It’s interesting, the way they sort of perceive my life and analyse it for me. In that case, I never thought about touring much. People used to say, “Oh, it’s 10 years since you’ve toured.” I’d go, “Is it? Y’know, I’m not counting.” That’s all that was, really. I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t fancy it.

The Q Interview, 2007

Astrid in Germany was always a bit suspicious of Paul at first, though his relationship with Stu was also bound up in this. 'It used to frighten me that someone could be so nice all the time. Which is silly. It's ridiculous to feel at home with nasty people, just because you feel that at least you know where you are with them. It's silly to be wary of nice people.'

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul is the easiest to get to know for an outsider, but in the end he is the hardest to get to know. There is a feeling that he is holding things back, that he is one jump ahead, aware of the impression he is giving. He is self-conscious, which the others are not. John doesn't care, either way, what people think. Ringo is too adult to think about such things, and George in many ways isn't conscious. He is above it all.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul today is still the public Beatle, giving interviews at fairly regular intervals, being open and honest about himself and his past, his worries and his pleasures. Naturally, as ever, there are people who suspect his motives, putting him down for being too charming. Paul may be a bit of an actor, acting the part of Paul McCartney, the charming superstar, still loved by every mum, which can make him sound rather prissy at times, but I believe he does tell the truth about himself.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

“My problem is to me, I come over as this very together guy, always got his finger on top of everything: the man with no problems. School – a doddle, got all the exams. This is the sort of image of me. Actually, I had murder getting through exams, like I was saying about being on tour during my GCEs. I was like the kid who was getting the cane. Just like John was, but he [Phillip Norman] makes me the very shrewd, always-going-to-succeed guy, and John is the kind of cute, working-class hero. In actual fact though, John was just as shrewd and ambitious as I was. What does me in is he adds to this image I’ve got; I resent that, because I know I’m not that, and I know I’ve never been that.

Paul McCartney’s thoughts from 1983 on Phillip Norman’s ‘Shout!’

The funny thing is, when Apple [started], everything was laid out on the table, it’s like a Monopoly game. We saw who had what. I suddenly had more Northern Song shares than anybody, and it was like, oops, sorry. John was like, “You bastard, you’ve been buying behind my back.” John saw everything like a Harold Robbins movie, you know, which it was. He’s not incorrect. I couldn’t get over the fact that we were really involved in all this. I think to this day, he’ll not understand. I don’t think he would accept right now, my naïveté in it. I think he still suspects me of trying to take over Apple. He still suspects that when I offered the Eastmans as [managers] instead of Allen Klein, he naturally assumed that I would be taken care of better than the others, and that the Eastmans could never be moral enough to be equal in their judgment and do the Beatles’ thing rather than Paul’s thing. I think they still suspect to this day.

The point I was trying to illustrate is that it wasn’t so much John being a bastard as it was his being suspicious towards me, always being suspicious towards me. There was Northern Song shares. And I swear on any holy book you want, I know he won’t believe it, but I know for sure that I didn’t buy them with the view to— If I was really trying to do it, I could have bought an awful lot more. So it does hurt a little bit that there’s someone who still thinks, like, I’m out to get them, or that I always was. That’s one of the nice things about it— It’s a pity [I never said to John, “Fuck off, I’m not trying to do it”—and never was]. But he knows I was kind of— We were behind the scenes, and we did a few little [things] that we had to do, and our ambitions, and it was never a kind of terrifying skeletons in the closet. It was always just normal—but, uh, they …

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

SG: Were the other Beatles anti-Linda? PMcC: Uh, yeah. I should think so. Like we were anti-Yoko. But you know John and Yoko, you can see it now, the way to get their friendship is to do everything the way they require it. To do anything else is how to not get their friendship. This is still how it is with John and Yoko. I know that if I absolutely lie down on the ground and just do everything like they say and laugh at all their jokes and don’t expect my jokes to ever get laughed at, and don’t expect any of my opinions ever to carry any weight whatsoever, if I’m willing to do all that, then we can be friends. But if I have an opinion that differs from theirs, then I’m a sort of an enemy. And naturally, paint myself a villain with a big mustache on, because to the ends of the earth, that’s how they both see me. They’re very suspicious people [John and Yoko], and one of the things that hurt me out of the whole affair, was that we’d come all that way together, and out of either a fault in my character, or out of lack of understanding in their character, I’d still never managed to impress upon them that I wasn’t trying to screw them. I don’t think that I have to this day.

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

I was never out to screw him, never. He could be a maneuvering swine, which no one ever realized. Now since the death he’s became Martin Luther Lennon. But that really wasn’t him either. He wasn’t some sort of holy saint. He was still really a debunker. “For ten years together he took my songs apart. He was paranoiac about my songs. We have great screaming sessions about them.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

SALEWICZ: Oh, he was presumably very paranoid. PAUL: I think so. I mean, he warned me off Yoko once. You know, “Look, this is my chick!” ’Cause he knew my reputation. I mean, we knew each other rather well. And um, I felt… I just said, “Yeah, no problem.” But I did sort of feel he ought to have known I wouldn’t, but. You know, he was going through “I’m just a jealous guy”. He was a paranoid guy. And he was into drugs. Heavy.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London)

Miles says, “I think Jane was always a bit irritated by John. Because he was so acerbic and difficult to get on with. And paranoid. He didn’t make life easy. I suppose it’s a sort of rapier wit, but it was usually just plain ordinary rudeness. There was nothing special about it.”

Paul McCartney profile for FAME Magazine (March 1990)

“They [Lennon & McCartney] saw each other again in 1977. The Lennons and McCartneys ate dinner together at Le Cirque, Paul’s favourite French restaurant in New York. John regretted going; it was a loathsome night. Paul and Linda blathered on and on about how perfect their lives were, how they had everything they’d ever wanted, and how they were as happy as they’d ever been. Something very paranoid suddenly occurred to John. Maybe Lorraine Boyle was spying on him for the McCartneys! He woke up the next morning still feeling disturbed; he consulted the Oracle. Swan assured him that Paul and Linda were frustrated and unsatisfied. Their marriage was in trouble, he said, predicting it would break up within the year. Lately Swan’s visions had been astonishingly accurate. Relieved, John began composing a song—a little ditty, really, that would never be released—in praise of the Oracle’s powers. But he still couldn’t understand why Paul and Linda had been together for as long as they had. There appeared to be a psychic connection between John and Paul. Every time McCartney was in town, John would hear Paul’s music in his head.”

Robert Rosen, Nowhere Man: The Final Days of John Lennon, (2000)

JOHN: […..] And he’s (Jagger) goin’ on about “he never calls. Do you think he ever calls? He never calls me. And he keeps changing his phone number all the time… And he’s hiding behind the kid.” I was hurt by it! You know… The fact that… A, I never call anybody. It’s not pride, it’s just that I never, ever have. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: I never call the other Beatles, I never call anybody. They always call me. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: Cos I’m self-involved! I’m paranoid, too. I don’t like phones… There’s nobody on this earth ever got a call from me that isn’t related, probably. Or a very old friend…

Sept 1980 – John

“Yoko was an extremist and was even more intense than John taking any idea or comment of his to the limit. If, for example, he complained about any of his fellow Beatles she would hint that that Beatle had always been an enemy implying that John should never deal with that person again. Her extreme positions fascinated John and help him take his mind off himself but when she became self-involved and paranoid herself -her paranoia usually dealt with her career, her fame and the fact that even though she had always been famous everyone conspired to keep her from getting even more famous- he had no place to turn. His insecurity about his solo career, his childhood, his relationships with the other Beatles, the way the public perceived Yoko overwhelmed him and he became more and more involved with drugs.”

May Pang, Loving John (1984)

John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.

Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)

Some three year later, during the making of Abbey Road, Lennon installed a twin bed in the studio so that Yoko, recuperating from a car crash, could survey proceedings and pass comment though a mike he had suspended over her. The other Beatles positioned themselves around the room as best they could. Yoko would later tell Paul that if, for any reason, he’d seemed to be standing too close to her, all hell would break loose when John got her home. Lennon, she said, was ‘very paranoid’ like that.

McCartney by Chris Sandford

But we were actually quite supportive. Not supportive enough, you know; it would have been nice to have been really supportive because then we could look back and say, “Weren’t we really terrific?” But looking back on it, I think we were okay. We were never really that mean to them. But I think a lot of the time John suspected meanness where it wasn’t really there.

Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chris Salewicz for Musician: Tug of war – Paul McCartney wants to lay his demons to rest. (October, 1986)

I just read about this thing that’s going on sale at Sotheby’s – this Apple booklet with John’s comments in the margins in his own handwriting. It is so bitter. Like, there’s a picture of Paul and Linda’s wedding – and John’s crossed out “wedding” and written in “funeral.” I think it starts to tell there. Another caption says, “Paul goes to Hollywood” – and then he’s apparently written in the margin, “To cut Yoko and John out of the film.” He often thought that we were tryin’ to cut Yoko out of things, to cut her out of Let It Be. I suppose we were, in some degree; because she wasn’t in the Beatles, and it was a Beatles film, and it wasn’t absolutely necessary to have long footage of her in there. She certainly was in there, but obviously they felt she should be in there a little more. I bent over backward trying to see John’s point of view. I still bend over backward trying to not malign him.”

Paul McCartney, Rolling Stone, September 11th, 1986

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #i wonder how much of their issues were due to john suspecting paul of things that just weren't true #then again maybe paul is secretly an evil mastermind #can't put it past him

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shinobi-bacon · 2 years ago

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Full List of Transparent Villager Gifs!

I decided to make a tacky list of all the villagers I've made gif sets for, in alphabetical order! This list will get updated as I continue to complete these requests!

Alfonso

Anabelle

Ankha

Antonio

Apollo

Avery

Bangle

Beardo

Beau

Blathers/Celeste

Bluebear

Bob

Bob/Punchy

Bones

Bud

Butch

Caroline

Cesar

Cherry

Chief

Chrissy

Coco

Cranston

Curt

Deena

Dobie

Dom

Drift

Erik

Étoile

Eugene

Filbert

Flora

Goldie

Hans

Isabelle (April Fool's Day)

Jeremiah

Jingle

Joey

Julian

Kabuki

Katt

Keaton

Ketchup

Kid Cat

Kidd

Kiki

Kyle

Leif

Lily

Lionel

Lolly

Lucky

Lyman

Margie

Marshal

Melba

Merengue

Merry

Moe

Molly

Olaf

Olivia

Pate

Pekoe/Snake

Pietro

Pinky

Pippy

Poppy

Punchy

Purrl

Raymond

Reese/Cyrus

Roald

Rosie

Roswell

Rowan

Ruby

Rudy

Sable Able

Sasha

Sheldon

Sherb

Shino

Skye

Snake

Sprinkle

Stella

Stitches

Tabby

Tangy

Teddy

Vesta

Vivian

Walt

Wart Jr

Whitney

Wisp

Wolfgang

Zipper

#GOOD LORD HOW MANY OF THESE DID I MAKE?!#I BARELY REMEMBER SOME OF THESE GOING THROUGH MY ARCHIVE #animal crossing #new horizons #animal crossing new horizons #acnh #acnh transparent

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is-the-snake-video-cute · 1 year ago

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Do you want to share about the smaller snake families too? I'd love to hear about them

There's a lot of snake familes - twenty something, give or take, depending on who you ask - but I'll do my best to give you a brief rundown of the ones accepted as unique families by most herpetologists! Quite a few of the smaller families only have a couple or even a single member.

This is gonna be long, so I'm putting this under a read more! Click if you want to see a bunch of weird snakes I can guarantee most people have never even heard of.

We split snake families into two infraorders. First, the Alethinophidia, where most families go other than a few little weirdos we'll discuss later. Boas, pythons, vipers, elapids, and colubrids all go in here, too!

Aniliidae - the family of one little guy, Anilius scytale. It's an extremely primitive snake with smaller belly scales and a very rigid skull.

Acrochordidae - the wart snakes! This is the family of three weirdo aquatic snakes. They're primitive and have loose, baggy skin which they use to trap fish. Elaphant trunk snakes are the most well-known acrochordids.

Atractaspididae - my favorite lesser-known family, the mole vipers, also called stiletto snakes and burrowing asps! They're the last family (outside of vipers and elapids) who are always venomous, and they have totally unique fangs they can swing out to stick prey! They're a bigger family, with twelve genera.

Bolyeriidae - the Round Island boas! There are two, formerly placed in the boa family but seperated due to genetic research. They're pretty big burrowers and have adorable, long faces.

Cylindrophiidae - Asian pipe snakes. They're burrowing, highly secretive little snakes, and there are thirteen of them. They're weird in that they don't have well-developed ventral scales.

Anomochilidae - the three dwarf pipe snakes. They're highly fossorial and have stubby faces and bright-colored bands around their tails to trick predators into missing their heads.

Tropidophiidae - the dwarf boas. Fossorial snakes and another of the bigger families, with thirty-four species. They're little cuties, known for pronounced color changes caused by pigment drift - they're light-colored when they're active during the day and dark-colored when they're asleep at night.

Xenopeltidae - the sunbeam snakes. Beautiful, fossorial snakes. They have particularly rigid jaws.

Uropeltidae - the sheild-tailed snakes. These guys are highly fossorial and secretive to the point we just don't know jack about shit. Their weird flattened tails are bizarre and we don't know what is up with that really.

Loxocemidae - a family with a single species, the Mexican burrowing snake. Burrowers, they have a super cool feature - scent glands to keep away nuisance insects while they go about their business.

Pareidae - forty-two species of snail-eaters, they have asymettrical jaws and special teeth that allow them to scoop snails out of their shells!

Xenodermidae - the odd-scaled snakes. Their scales don't overlap, giving them a super unique appearance!

Prosymnidae - related to elapids but shown to be distinct through genetic tests. Insanely cute.

Psammophiidae - in the same boat as prosymnids. When they're venomous, they're typically rear-fanged venomous.

Lamprophiidae - a bigger one, with eighty-nine species! Diverse and related to elapids. African house snakes are here!

Xenophidiidae - spinejaw snakes. They're highly fossorial and have weird-ass skulls but we haven't even found a male specimen yet. Lots to learn about them!

And, now, the second infraorder - the Scolecophidia! These are the families of blind snakes and thread snakes. All of these snakes are typically less than one foot long and usually much smaller.

Typhlopidae - the biggest family of blind snakes, with over two hundred species! Their eyes are mostly vestigial but they have black spots that can detect light, and they have teeth in their upper jaw but their jaws cannot stretch.

Anomalepididae - super similar to typhlopids but they only have a single tooth.

Leptotyphlopidae - these tiny little guys eat termines and ants. They have no true teeth and immobile jaws. The smallest known snake, the Barbados threadsnake, belongs to this family.

If you made it this far, congrats! You now know more about snake families than most undergrad herpetology students.

#not a rating #snake families

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herpsandbirds · 1 year ago

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Little File Snake aka Little Wart Snake (Acrochordus granulatus), juvenile, family Acrochordidae, Cairns, Queensland. Australia

photograph by Reid Newell

#file snake #wart snake #acrochordus #acrochordidae #snake #reptile #herpetology #animals #nature #australia

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ticklishshenanigansau · 1 month ago

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LaughterLand - Chapter 20: Witch

(story by Mod Secret, art by Mod Secret)

The old woman was plump and round. Her skin was a bright lime green with darker green freckles and liver spots dotting along her face and hands. She was slightly hunched over, like the top of her spine had been purposefully curved. Yet she moved with such an energy that didn't at all match her aged appearance. She wore a classic witch's attire with the pointed hat and dress, but the colors were the farthest thing from typical. Both her dress and hat were a warm pink color. The bottom half of her dress, as well as her pointed hat, were decked out in dark green stripes. The dark purple belt that was wrapped around her hat and her waist matched her curly elf shoes. Even her ears were elf-like as they curled up into a point.

She had the typical witch nose that was extra big and protruded far out from where her face began. But in place of the big wart that usually decorated the end of a witch's nose was a tiny little pale pink flower. Two more of the same kind of flower sat in the middle of the purple belts on her hat and waist. She had bright cherry-red hair that was kept as an unruly mess on top of her large head. Her nails were a shimmering dark lavender color, they were long and perfectly tipped, making them ideal for tickling. While it was clear that she couldn't have cared less about her hair or her toothy yellow smile, it was obvious that she valued her nails.

Her large and striking golden eyes sparkled with delight upon seeing the skeletons trapped within the coils of the Magenta and Lilac Snakes. She clapped her hands with utter delight before holding open the door to her cottage.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho!! Come in, come in, my precious pets! Please see to it that our new guests are nice and comfortable!" She giggled like a child that had just been given a new toy.

The brothers struggled uselessly as the snakes dragged them into the old cottage, they blinked as the warm glow of the lights stung their sockets. Once their vision had adjusted, they saw where the warm glow had been coming from.

Directly in the middle of the cottage floor was an enormous bubbling cauldron sitting in a makeshift fireplace, which looked to be a large hole in the ground. Flames wisped around the bottom of the giant pot, heating the strange violet liquid inside to a boil. The smell that engulfed the cottage was sweet, almost too sweet. Like someone had added gallons upon gallons of sugar to an already saccharine syrup.

On the right side of the cauldron was a large wooden table. A tall, slightly crooked black wand rested right next to a large pile of feathers. The feathers were bright pastel colors, large and exuberantly fluffy. Sans knew that they had to have come from the Squeal Owls, along with several other types of bird-like creatures from this place. But feathers weren’t the only terrible tools that this table was carrying. Off to the side there were hairbrushes, paintbrushes, toothbrushes, feather dusters, scratchers, and even a small vial looked to be carrying baby oil. Clearly she was well-versed in the subject of tickle torture. The brothers’ anxiety nearly hit the roof upon seeing her devious collection.

Laying against the wall on the other side of the room, were large wooden shelves that contained a multitude of glass bottles and vials. The liquid inside the little containers were a mixture of different colors and substances, some even glowing and sparkling with fire. Standing right next to the shelves were two large wooden stakes that were sticking straight out of the wooden floor. The snakes dragged the squirming brothers over to the stakes and roughly pinned them down against them.

Sans pushed and clawed at the Magenta Snake as he felt it shoving his spine against the thick wooden stake. He fought with all of his might, even threatening to bite down on its tail again if it dared to venture anywhere near his face. The Magenta Snake let out a sharp warning hiss that immediately got the attention of the witch.

“Tsk, tsk. Now this kind of behavior won’t do at all,” she tutted.

The witch grabbed the wand off of the wooden table. Light sparked out of the end as she gave it a swift flick towards the wooden stakes. A long strand of rope that had been hidden in the corner of the room came to life and started slithering towards the brothers. In a flash, the rope coiled around Sans's wrists, pulling itself into a tight knot.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hey! Stop it! OW!!"

Sans panicked and struggled but it was too late. With a swift yank, the rope pulled Sans's wrists upwards, securing his hands over his head and tying him to the wooden stake.

"Can't have you giving my precious pets a hard time, can I?" The Witch beamed at her handiwork. With another flick of the twisted black wand, she summoned three more hidden ropes. One to tie Papyrus's wrists in the same position as Sans’s, and the other two to tie around their waists like makeshift seat belts securing them even tighter to the stakes. The skeletons squirmed and struggled against their new bonds, much to the witch's entertainment.

"Relax, Bone-Boys," she teased after an outburst of amused cackling. "Enjoy your stay at the Old Dropwart cottage."

"D-Dropwart?" Papyrus stammered nervously.

"That's me, deary!" She approached him with a burst of energy that startled him into shaking. "They call me Old Witch Dropwart, now doesn't THAT have a nice ring to it?" She cackled again, her high-pitched laughter echoing off the cottage walls.

"Um … it's … v-very um...." Papyrus stuttered and trembled, unsure of what to say and terrified of saying the wrong thing.

"Nasty," Sans finished for him with a blunt and bitter tone. "Nasty? Gross? Disgusting? Appalling? Do I have it about right?"

To his surprise, with every unfavorable word he used to describe what he thought of her name, her smile grew wider and prouder.

"Oh, why thank you, my deary!" She gave Sans a playful little curtsey with her striped skirt. "It's a family name you know, passed down from generations. Why … have you ever heard of the Hemlock Water Dropwort?"

She looked eagerly at the brothers, as if hopeful for an answer. Sans just stood there silently glaring at her while Papyrus timidly shook his head.

"Why! It's one of the most deadliest flowers in the whole world!" she eagerly explained. "Consuming such a plant has led to such countless gruesome deaths!"

She let out another shrieking cackle, one that caused the skeletons an even greater deal of anxiety. She just seemed so unnaturally cheerful talking about such a grim subject.

"But what was the most fascinating thing about these victims … was that they were all found with such adorable ear-to-ear smiles." She demonstrated with her own rotting toothy grin. "It was as if it had caused them all to DIE LAUGHING!!"

She doubled over in hysterics, recalling the terrifying tale. Sans and Papyrus observed her, utterly horrified, she was truly crazy. Was this what she had planned for them? Was she going to force them to die laughing, true to her namesake? The brothers pulled even harder against the magical ropes.

"Please...!" Papyrus strained. "Please no!! Y-Your snakes have already attempted to tickle us to death!! We can't take anymore!!"

"What?!"

Dropwart's demeanor suddenly changed to one of annoyance. She turned back to her serpents who seemed to have a look of guilt upon their faces.

"Oh you naughty little worms!" she scolded, bopping them both on the snout with her wand, causing them to recoil. "You know better than to snack on my fresh ingredients! You get your own food at dinnertime!"

The snakes looked at her with sorry eyes, reminiscent of a puppy getting yelled at for not listening to its owner. They both slinked away back into the corner of the room while Dropwart turned her attention back to the brothers.

"I am dreadfully sorry about them, my dears." She gave them both an insincere look of concern. "Sometimes they just can't resist…." She approached the brothers with a devious grin as she very purposefully eyed their exposed tickle spots. "You two must be particularly delectable sources of food!"

She made a show of greedily licking her lips before turning towards her shelf. She grabbed a handful of empty glass vials and placed them across the wooden table before turning towards her bubbling cauldron. She gave the bright violet liquid a steady stir causing the overly saturated sweet smell to engulf the air with renewed life.

"You stay away from us!"

Sans growled once she stopped stirring to give the cauldron a deep inhalation. She looked back at him, her toothy grin turned halfway up in amusement.

“Oh, not to worry, my deary!” she smirked. “I’m not about to spoil my new source of ingredients!”

“You keep calling us that,” Sans retorted bluntly. “What are you even talking about?”

“S-Sans…,” Papyrus stammered in a hushed tone. “Don’t make her mad! You know what it means, she’s going to devour our laughter just like everybody else!”

Sans wasn’t entirely convinced. If she was as tickle-crazy as their previous adversaries, she would have been on top of them by now. Why all this prep work? Why the cauldron? Why the empty vials? She was planning something else.

Sans squinted his eyes to get a closer look at the glass vials, he noticed that they were all labeled … now if he could just see what was scribbled on the parchment. The larger vial that was closest to the edge of the table was the only one Sans could read clearly. It read; ‘Hysterical’. The one next to it was a lot smaller, Sans lurched his neck forward to try and read it. It looked like it spelled out the word; ‘Tittering’.

As she went back to the table to fumble around with the order in which she wanted the vials placed, Sans could make out one that she had grabbed in her hand. It read; ‘Belly Laughter’. Finally it dawned on him, the prep work and the strangely labeled vials started to make sense. She wasn’t about to consume their laughter … she was about to collect it!

“There we go!” she said once she had organized the vials on the table to her liking. She grabbed the smaller one at the end of the line and approached the brothers eagerly. “Let’s start off with this one, shall we?”

Anxiety flooded Sans’s chest, he tried to read the label, but it was clutched deeply into her green speckled hand. Papyrus whimpered and tugged at the ropes as he panicked.

“Wh-What are you gonna do with us?!” he practically shrieked.

“Well isn’t it obvious my dear?” Dropwart replied in a playful manner. “Why I’m going to tickle you, of course! Now where did I put that wand?”

"Oh no! No! No! Please don't!! I'm begging you!!"

Papyrus shrieked as he strained against the ropes. Sans gritted his teeth scowling at the giggling witch as she reached for her wand.

"Don't you EVEN dare!" he spat angrily. "Don't touch him or I swear I'll—"

Sans was cut off by the craziness he saw unfolding in front of him. With another flick of the twisted black wand, the pile of pastel feathers stood up on the wooden table before proceeding to levitate into the air. They hovered together in a colorful cluster just above Dropwart's head as she grinned maliciously at the skeletons.

“Now here’s a fun little game I want to play with you boys.” She pointed the wand at the brothers, her toothy grin growing wider with mischief. The feathers, in turn, aimed themselves in the same direction causing Sans and Papyrus to tense up with anxiety.

“Just try and keep your laughter in!”

She let out another shrieking cackle as she directed the horde of levitating feathers to swarm after the skeletons. Sans shut his eyes tightly as he felt the bristles of the soft Squeal Owl feathers starting to brush against the back of his knees. He moved to kick his leg out, but the rope bound him too tightly to the stake. He stood there helplessly as two more feathers brushed against the sides of his skull, tickling at his ears, cheeks and jawbone.

He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying his best to hold back the laughter. The soft tickling on his gentler spots would have otherwise elicited a lot of giggling out of him, he began to wonder why she wasn’t immediately going for the dangerous spots. As grateful as he was that the soft tickling wasn’t completely unbearable right off the bat, it was still irritating. He tried his best to scrunch up his neck and toss his head around, but whichever way his skull moved, the feathers followed.

Sans peeked open one eye to notice that the same thing was happening to Papyrus. His ears, cheeks, and neck were all being targeted. He didn’t even have to look down to know that there was a group of feathers also aiming behind his knees. Much like him, Papyrus was also trying to hold it in and squirm away. It wasn’t until an extra fluffy feather moved to the front of his throat to start swishing around that Papyrus let out a strained giggle.

“Nyehee…! Heeheeheehee…!” He still tried so hard to hold back, Sans could feel his toes thumping against the wooden floor. It didn’t make too much of a difference. Many more feathers moved to brush against his neck and collarbone, Papyrus, in response, choked back a squeal.

“Agh…!! Nyahaha…!! N-Nohoho! Eeek!! Heeheeheehee!!”

The feathers on Sans’s side also began fluffing along his throat and collarbone. Sans felt the laughter starting to bubble up in his chest, but he swallowed hard, refusing to immediately be undone by such soft and gentle tickling. He barely released small spurts of breath as his bones jerked around from the buildup of pressure.

“Ohhh! Look at that!” Dropwart began bouncing on her toes excitedly. She held the vial close to Papyrus’s face, a look of anticipation in her eyes.

Sans kept his sockets locked on Papyrus, making sure she didn’t do anything more to him. That’s when he realized something had changed. A stream of what looked like red smoke was pouring out of Papyrus’s mouth as he continued to snicker. It was phosphorescent and moved like it was purposefully trying to escape from him. Suddenly, it turned to the direction of Dropwart’s bottle. The direction of the strange red smoke dove straight into the glass vial, filling it up in an instant.

“Excellent!” she exclaimed as she fastened the cork onto the vial’s opening, quickly trapping the red smoke inside. “I just knew you’d be the first to break!”

She gave Papyrus a playful wink before giving the wand another flick of her wrist. The feathers around them stopped tickling and fell lifeless to the floor. Both brothers immediately gasped for air, though it didn’t take them long to once again regulate their breathing. After everything they had been through, the soft feather tickles were basically nothing more than a gentle warm-up.

“Pap! Are you okay?” Sans asked worriedly. He didn’t know what that smoke meant, or how it would affect him. But to his relief, Papyrus seemed perfectly fine.

“I…. I think so,” Papyrus replied quietly.

He too was terrified to know just what they were dealing with. The brothers watched as Dropwart placed the now glowing red vial onto the table before grabbing another one.

“What did you do to him?” Sans demanded boldly.

“Oh, you mean this?”

Dropwart gave the older skeleton a cheeky smile before reaching for the red vial again to give them a better view of it. As she approached with the little glass bottle in hand, Sans could finally read the label, it said; ‘Tittering’.

“This kind of brew requires a total of seven different kinds of laughter,” Dropwart explained as she dangled the vial of Papyrus’s tittering laughter in front of them. “And you boys are gonna help me get every last drop!”

She hurriedly placed the red vial back onto the table before proceeding to remove the cork from the next vial in line. Both brothers stood there, terrified and utterly dumbfounded. In this world, laughter wasn’t just a main food source, it could be used as a physical ingredient like any other piece of food. The idea that she was milking their laughter out of them like a dairy farmer did to a cow was terrifying enough, but what wouldn’t stop ringing in the brothers’ skulls was the fact that she had said she needed ‘seven different kinds of laughter’. What did that even mean? It was seven different kinds of crazy that was unfolding right before them, and all they knew was that they didn’t want to be here for any of it.

“No! Please! Please don’t do this!!” Papyrus started panicking once he got a good look at the other vials on the table. “Please! W-We don’t taste good, it’s not worth it!! We’ll give you indigestion! Let us go!!”

While Papyrus struggled and pleaded, Sans could only glare. He knew it was of no use now. The way she was clutching the empty vial and looking at them, one way or another she was going to drain the laughter out of them, and there was nothing they could do to stop her.

“Oh, such nonsense dearies!” Dropwart chuckled. “Even your simple snickers are worth their weight in gold. You two have just what I’m looking for!”

She suddenly placed the empty vial on the shelf next to them. She held up both of her hands, the mischievous look on her face never faltering.

“But … if you need a little more energy … I bet I can give you a hand!”

With two distinct popping sounds, Dropwart’s hands completely disconnected from her wrists and jumped down to the floor crawling around like two giant lime green spiders.

Sans and Papyrus practically jolted out of their bonds in surprise. Being skeletons, they too could disconnect their hands and feet when necessary. But this was the very last thing they had expected from a being of flesh and blood. Her wrists didn’t appear hurt by this at all, they were just left as two green stumps at the end of her arms. Clearly, she had done this before.

The two disconnected hands immediately scurried towards Papyrus, quickly crawling up his legs and heading towards his upper body with intense speed. Papyrus shrieked and cringed with disgust at the sight, but as the perfectly-tipped nails made contact with his ribs, he found that he couldn’t stop himself from giggling.

“EEK!! Ahaha! No! Nyahahahaha!! N-Nohoho! Get them off meheeheehee!!”

The hands stopped just under opposite sides of his underarms. One hand began crawling across the entirety of his ribcage with lightning speed. The other one stayed put, scratching under his right underarm.

Papyrus giggled frantically and tugged at the restraints. The idea of being tickled by uncontrollable disembodied hands made him horribly uncomfortable, and to make matters worse, they were both highly skilled when it came to tickling.

“Nyahahahahaha!! Pl-Plehehease!! Hahahaha!! Please stahahahap!! Ahahahaha!!” he pleaded, squealing every time a nail would graze a sensitive spot on his ribs. “Plehehehehehease!! This—ahaha!! Th-This is ahahahahawful!! Nyahahahahaha!!”

Sans looked on in horror as the hands tickled mercilessly at Papyrus’s upper body. He pulled at his own restraints, a newfound resolve taking hold of him in wanting to rescue his brother. But no matter how hard he pulled, the ropes wouldn’t budge an inch. He looked back at Papyrus, expecting to find the same smoke trailing out of his mouth for Dropwart to collect. But to his surprise, nothing was happening. She didn’t even have a vial ready, her hands were too busy tickling Papyrus.

Sans sharply turned as he heard a subtle hissing sound. The Magenta Snake was looking at him, a look of greed dancing in the light of its piercing eyes. Sans felt himself starting to squirm as the snake began slithering towards him. He kept his sockets locked on the serpent, wishing with all of his might that he could kick at it, lunge at it, do anything that would scare it away, but it continued to creep towards him, feathery tongue flicking away teasingly.

“St-Stay back!” Sans timidly snapped. The snake continued moving forward, completely ignoring his warning. “I mean it! You stay away!”

At last, the Magenta Snake lay in front of him, only a few inches away. If Sans wasn’t bound to the wooden stake, he would have been able to reach out and touch it. Or more specifically, reach out and punch it in the nose. For what felt like an eternity, he and the brightly colored serpent just stared at each other, the reptile refused to blink or look away for even a second. That’s when Sans realized … it was quiet. Papyrus’s laughter had ceased, and the younger skeleton was now taking deep inhalations.

In the heat of the moment, Sans suddenly felt two very distinct hands start digging into his underarms, tickling away with reckless abandon.

“WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! AHAHAHAHAHA!! NO—NAHAHAHAHA!!”

The older skeleton erupted with laughter as the disembodied hands scribbled mercilessly at his defenseless underarms. He wasn’t even aware that a bright blue smoke was trailing out of his mouth until he felt the hands lifting away from his sensitive tickle spot and start crawling down the sides of his body.

As the hands reconnected with Dropwart’s wrists, she giggled to herself as she reached for the vial to collect the second type of laughter from Sans.

“Ohoho! The old ‘distract ‘em, attack ‘em’! I just love that one!” she beamed proudly at the Magenta Snake as it nuzzled its broad snout into the side of her dress. “Nicely done, my pet!”

The blue smoke emitting from Sans’s mouth immediately funneled into the glass vial before Dropwart sealed it up with another cork. Sans read the label just before she was able to take the glass bottle back to the table. It read: ‘Outburst’. Sans growled bitterly at the old witch, he felt so played. If only he could tell which kind of laughter she was going for next, maybe he could find a way to predict what she was going to pull next to drag it out of them. But she was clearly experienced with this kind of thing, he knew she wasn’t going to simply let slip what her next move was.

“That’s two!” she cheered as she placed the glowing blue vial next to the red one. “Now, I think I’ll need something special for this one.”

The brothers watched in helpless anticipation as she pondered over the various tools laid across the wooden table. They held their breath, wincing with fear whenever her fingers would graze across a particularly deadly-looking instrument.

“Ah-ha! That’s the ticket!” She held up a large paintbrush, twirling it around in her fingers before staring intently back at Papyrus. “I think this will work nicely on you.”

To an extent, the skeletons were relieved that it hadn’t been something worse like the hairbrush or the toothbrush. But still, the bristles on the end of the paintbrush looked to be incredibly soft, and not knowing what she was planning still left them in a state of panic. Papyrus whimpered and squirmed as she approached him, still twirling the paintbrush between her fingers.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, deary,” she said in a soft tone, motioning for the Lilac Snake to come slithering next to her. “I’m afraid these old bones of mine are too tired to be bending over.”

POP!

Papyrus gasped, his eyes wide with a look of complete shock and horror. At first, Sans didn’t know what had happened. He just stood there watching Papyrus’s expression suddenly change, his Soul nearly froze not knowing what was going on. Then he noticed the tail of the Lilac Snake slithering away with something wrapped up in its coils. Sans, in turn, let out a shocked gasp when he realized what it had … it was Papyrus’s left foot.

With little effort or risk, both brothers are able to physically remove parts of their bodies. Once their chosen appendage is disconnected, however, they are unable to move them around until they are properly reconnected with the rest of them. They can still feel everything that happens, which meant that Papyrus’s foot was now totally helpless and in the clutches of a tickle-hungry witch.

“Oh no … no!” Papyrus whimpered as he watched the Lilac Snake drop his foot into Dropwart’s open palm. “No! You can’t!” He started uselessly pulling at the restraints again, panic engulfing his bones.

“Give him his foot back, right now!” Sans growled, also struggling hopelessly against the ropes.

“Oh, I’ll give it back … after I do this of course!” She gave the underside of Papyrus’s toes a quick swipe of the paintbrush. As expected, the bristles were incredibly soft, and unbearably ticklish.

“EEK!!” Papyrus shrieked.

“Pap! Hold your breath!” Sans instructed.

Papyrus did as he was told, inhaling a deep breath into his cheekbones. Both of them knew that it wasn’t going to last, and it most certainly wasn’t going to deter Dropwart from trying. But it was the only thing either of them could think of in the heat of the moment.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Dropwart eagerly swiped the paintbrush under Papyrus’s toes again. The younger skeleton’s eyes bugged out as a tiny whimper snuck out of him. She continued the motion of dragging the paintbrush back and forth under his toes, greedily eating up every single one of Papyrus’s muffled reactions.

“My, my, my!” she cruelly teased as she began wriggling the bristles between his toes. “You can’t move at all, can you?”

More than anything Papyrus wanted to curl and wiggle his toes. Even though it would do nothing to alleviate the horrid tickling sensations, the physical venting would at least help a little. But to his dismay, his toes remained still and practically lifeless. Helpless to every swipe and bristle the tickling paintbrush had to offer.

Papyrus threw his head back with his sockets shut tight. He lightly banged the back of his skull against the wooden stake as he trembled. The paintbrush wasn’t the worst tickle tool in the world, and his feet weren’t as ticklish as places like his spine or upper body. But more than anything, he just didn’t want to give Dropwart any more of the ‘ingredients’ that she needed.

“Just hang on, Pap,” Sans quietly encouraged him, though he knew the worst was yet to come.

“Well, if you’re gonna be stubborn, then I’ll just have to get you up here, then!” Dropwart pulled the paintbrush out, and proceeded to brush along the tops of Papyrus’s toes. “Tickle tickle tickle!” she teased.

“Nyaaaaaaah!! Ahahahahahahaha!! Ohohoh nooo!! Hahahaha!! Nonononononohoho!! Nahahat thehehere!! Heeheeheeheehee!!”

If Dropwart’s teasing coos weren’t enough, the tops of Papyrus’s toes were even worse than the underside. Although he wasn’t in a position where he could freely bend his toes anyway, he knew that even if he could, he wouldn’t have been able to use them to protect the tops of his toes.

“Ha! I knew that would getcha!” Dropwart cackled. “But that’s a little bit much for me, deary. I’m afraid I’m gonna need something a little bit lighter.”

To their surprise, Dropwart moved the paintbrush back down to the underside of Papyrus’s toes. She swirled and swiped the bristles under and between them, causing Papyrus’s laughter to soften as he released frantic spurts of giggles.

“Eeeeheeheeheehee!! Nohohohoho!! Quihihihihit it!! Nyahahaha!! It-It stihihihill tickles!! Heeheeheeheehee!!” Papyrus chuckled as his upper body squirmed.

It didn’t make any sense to either of them. Clearly the tops of Papyrus’s toes were more ticklish than the bottom side, so why switch it up after finally getting him to break? Sans figured it out once he started seeing the red smoke pouring from Papyrus’s mouth again. She wasn’t yet after the boisterous laughter like for the vial that read ‘Belly Laughter’. She was still warming them up for that by collecting softer chuckles. Sure enough, the vial that collected Papyrus’s red smoke read; ‘Giggling’.

Then Sans got to thinking. His own toes were a lot more ticklish than Papyrus’s, what would have happened had she gone after him instead? She wouldn’t have been able to get any of his giggling, that was for sure. She seemed to know the exact spot that would elicit the perfect giggle from his brother, but the question was how?

“Now let’s see…,” she pondered after placing the full vial of smoke next to the others. She turned to look back and forth between the two skeletons before settling her eyes on Sans. Grinning deviously, she grabbed the next empty bottle in one hand before handing Papyrus’s foot back to the Lilac Snake.

“Please see to it that this gets returned my dear,” she said slyly, never taking her gaze off of the older skeleton. “I do believe I need something from this one now.”

Sans couldn’t help but squirm, she hated the way she was staring at him. Such greedy hunger in those piercing golden eyes. Her toothy grin ensuring nothing but mischief and mayhem. He could just tell, she was going to have way too much fun with whatever she was planning to do with him.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, I’m not interested,” Sans retorted boldly, still glaring at the old woman with utter disdain.

“Oh, you don’t have to be, deary. All I need from you is your precious laughter!” She stopped in front of him, teasingly wiggling her fingers directly over his body.

Sans tensed up, the physical teasing affecting him more than he cared to admit. He half-expected her hands to pop off again, or for the levitating feathers to come back to life. But to his surprise, she lunged for him, tickling at his ribs with her hands still attached.

“AAGH!! Ahahahahaha!! Nohohohohoho!! Hahahahahaha!! Get ahahahahaff!! Hahaha!! Get off of meheeheeheehee!! Ahahahaha!!”

There was no hope of holding back for this one. Sans’s ribs were horribly sensitive, and Dropwart’s perfect nails were well-practiced and skilled in the tickling technique. It was a dangerous combination for the poor laughing skeleton.

“Aww, does that tickle, deary?” Dropwart teased as she skittered her nails along the different parts of Sans’s ribcage. “Well, what about here? Yeah? And here? Oh, that must tickle a LOT, huh?”

Dropwart’s verbal teasing was already causing Sans’s sockets to tear up, he was so caught up in the unbearable laughing fit that he didn’t even notice. He hated how sensitive his rib bones were, they never failed to throw him into a blind panic.

“Stahahahahahap ihihihihit!!” Sans screeched. “Dohohohohon’t—ahahahaha!! Don’t—Dohohohon’t tehehehehease!! Ahahahahahaha!!”

“Leave him alone!” Papyrus shouted, still trying his best to break free.

“Oh, don’t worry, deary, we’ll get to you later.” Dropwart smirked at the younger skeleton. “Now where is that spot, huh?”

Although it was clear that she was having a blast tickling at Sans’s ribs with her own two hands, it became clear that Dropwart was in search of something. Papyrus would notice how much time she would spend on one particular spot before turning to another spot giving it that same vigorous treatment. He wasn’t sure what it was she wanted out of Sans, but she wouldn’t stop teasing and tickling him until she would get it.

“Plehehehehehehease!!”

Sans laughter started trailing off into desperate-sounding wheezes. He didn’t know if that’s what she wanted out of him, but at this point he would have done anything to give her the next missing ingredient. Just to make the torture on his ribs stop.

“Plehehehehease!! Please stahahahahahap!! Ahahahahaha!! I-I cahahahan’t…!”

Dropwart finally let her hands up as Sans fell into silent laughter. Her giddy expression of enjoyment was replaced by one of confusion.

“I just don’t get it,” she replied, looking the older skeleton up and down. “I just know that was supposed to get you snorting.”

Sans inhaled sharply, suddenly it made sense. She was after his snorting spot. He felt the spaces in between his ribs starting to tingle just at the thought of it. He silently prayed that his subtle reaction hadn’t immediately tipped her off to where the spot was located. His mind buzzed with confusion. How could she possibly know that his snorting spot was located around the ribcage?

The sharp hissing sound of the Lilac Snake jostled Sans out of his racing thoughts. It eagerly slithered towards Sans without silencing its hissing dialogue. Sans glanced over at Dropwart, who had turned her head towards the serpent listening intently. A sinking feeling of dread began forming in Sans’s bones as he remembered what the serpent had done to him before dragging him to the cottage.

“Well, you don’t say!” Dropwart exclaimed, turning back towards Sans with a knowing smirk on her face. “Alright my pet. Proceed.”

Before Sans had a chance to protest, the Lilac Snake once again shoved its enormous head under Sans’s shirt.

“Oh no! No! No—AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Sans shrieked with renewed laughter as he felt the familiar feeling of the snake’s feathery tongue slipping between his ribs. “NAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAP!! N-NAHAHAT AGAHAHAHAHAIN!!”

Sans erupted with a fit of snorting laughter. Every sharp inhale was met with a louder and louder burst from his nasal cavity, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to control it

Dropwart eagerly collected the blue smoke that poured out of his mouth in little bursts. It was a slightly larger vial than the rest, so she cruelly took her time filling it up to the brim. She fastened the cork onto the glass container firmly before giving the Lilac Snake a steady pat on the back.

“Thank you, my pet. I believe that will do.”

The Lilac Snake gave Sans one last harsh little hiss against his ribs before slinking out of his shirt to return to its owner’s side. Sans shrieked in response before falling limp against the wooden stake. His body greedily swallowing huge gulps of air, as he tried to blink away fresh tears.

“H…. How…?” he breathed out, his question causing Dropwart to pause. “How … did you … know … about … my ribs…?”

“Well … why don’t you take in a deep breath and hold it?” Dropwart replied with a coy smile. Sans responded with an unamused scowl, obviously not in the mood for any more tricks. “Go on,” Dropwart insisted “Take a big breath and hold it until it feels as though you could burst.”

Sans was hesitant, almost certain that this was another one of her schemes to get more laughter out of him. But still … he wanted answers, and it wasn’t like there was anything they could do to stop her. So he inhaled sharply, holding the air within his cheekbones. At first nothing happened, he could feel the pressure starting to rise in his chest, so he clenched his fists together in an attempt to ignore it. He suddenly heard Papyrus take in a sharp inhalation of his own.

“Sans…,” his brother said, shakily. “You’re … glowing.”

Sans’s sockets flew open, he looked down at his body. Sure enough various areas of his body were glowing that same violet color as the sweet-smelling liquid in the cauldron. Some spots were showing up more intensely than others. His underarms, which was one of his most sensitive areas, was glowing brightly. Meanwhile, less ticklish spots like his hips were much more dull in terms of light.

Sans looked up to see Dropwart proudly patting her cauldron, and it all made sense. Ever since stepping into this cursed cottage, Sans and his brother had been inhaling the overly-saturated sweetness of that bubbling potion. Now with the aroma firmly planted into their system, Dropwart could see clearly which spots of their bodies were the most ticklish.

In a total panic, Sans looked down to where the grooves of his back were located. Sure enough, his most ticklish secret spot was the most illuminated part of his body.

“It’s my most favorite spell.” Dropwart beamed down at the bubbling potion. “I never do anything without it. Now … shall we continue?” She picked up another vial from the wooden table, along with her twisted black wand.

As she approached the struggling skeletons, Dropwart looked back and forth between the brothers and the vial. Her expression pondering and perplexed.

��Hmm…,” she hummed in thought. “This will require some belly laughter, but … it looks like we don’t have bellies to work with, my dearies.”

“See?” Papyrus immediately spoke up. “I told you we didn’t have what you needed! Now let us go!”

“Right!” Sans added. “No bellies, no belly laughter, nothing you can do about it!”

“Oh no?” Dropwart’s smile returned slyly. “I can see those spines of yours aren’t too ticklish on their own … so maybe we can just fix that.”

She swiftly grabbed a hefty burlap bag off of the top shelf. Holding it open, Sans could see a sparkling pink substance on the inside. Immediately it reminded him of the fairies’ Tickle Dust and he started to panic.

“What…. What is that? What is that?! What are you doing?!” He pulled and pulled at his restraints. Despite knowing full well that he wasn’t going anywhere, fear completely overtook him and all of his actions.

Dropwart dipped the twisted black wand into the bag of sparkling powder and steadily swirled it around. When she pulled it back out, the wand was coated in the pink glittering powder. There was no doubt in the skeleton’s minds, she had her own special supply of the dangerous dust, and she was going to use it at full force.

She aimed the now sparkling wand at the brother’s midsections and gave it a gentle flick. The pink glittering substance flew from the tip of the wand and landed with an audible ‘POOF’ onto both of their spines.

Laughter exploded out of the skeletons, they could physically feel their bodies shake and jolt with every powerful inhale and exhale that pounded out of them. It was the strangest sensation feeling how immensely ticklish their spines had become, and with nothing there to even be tickling them no less.

While Papyrus had always struggled with how sensitive his spine was, as it was closest to his sweet spot, the sensation was all too new to Sans. Now it was on the same playing field as his underarms, and he absolutely hated it.

As the skeletons flopped around hysterically laughing in their bonds, Dropwart immediately grabbed the larger vial to collect the red and blue smoke that was practically flooding out of the brothers’ mouths. They opened their jaws to let out tearful screams of protest, but all that came out of them was more helpless laughter and more phosphorescent smoke. Dropwart took her sweet time filling up the vial, clearly relishing every moment of watching the poor skeletons writhe in ticklish agony. A look of sickening satisfaction spread across her face each time she heard one of them let out a strained squeal or a breathy cackle.

She loved this, being the cause of their delicious misery, and ultimately being the one that could put an end to it whenever it suited her. Such power looked to be just as intoxicating as the laughter she was forcing out of her victims. The red and blue smoke swirled around in the glass vial, mixing into a bright purple color. It was almost identical to the violet bubbling potion in the cauldron, though not quite exact.

Dropwart secured the cork onto the nearly overflowing vial of laughter, but didn't yet stop her spell on the brothers. Instead, she leaned forward, taking a deep and satisfying breath. The red and blue smoke traveled effortlessly up the nostrils of her long, lime green nose, and left her with an expression of unadulterated bliss. At last, she gave the wand another gentle flick, causing the Tickle Dust and all of its aftereffects to disappear with a 'POOF’!

Sans and Papyrus panted so hard they both started coughing due to the rapid inhales hitting the back of their throats. They wheezed and spluttered, desperately trying to regain their normal breathing again. Exhausted and anxious, they looked up to see Dropwart placing the purple vial next to the others, wasting no time grabbing the next one in line. There were only two left, and neither of them wanted to know what it took to extract the last two forms of laughter.

“These last two are most definitely my favorite part of the job,” she mused, playing with the second-to-last bottle in her hand.

By the devilish look in her eyes, the brothers could just tell that this was going to be very bad. She stood between the two of them, carefully looking each one up and down. Sans felt so exposed and vulnerable, knowing full well that she could see every inch of their tickle spots on full display. Finally, she stepped in front of Papyrus, causing the younger skeleton to shake with anxiety.

“I’ve had such fun watching you giggle and wriggle around!” Dropwart cooed, teasing Papyrus by tenderly tracing a finger down his skull and neck.

Papyrus whined and tried squirming away from her touch. Fury flashed in Sans’s gaze, watching his brother be toyed with this way. He knew better than to waste his energy struggling, but he couldn’t seem to help himself whenever Papyrus was at risk.

With another twirl of the wand, the pastel feathers that were still resting on the floor around them came back to life. They purposefully hovered over Papyrus as the younger skeleton let out a quiet whimper of fear. He flashed a desperate look at Dropwart as the witch spoke with a teasing tone again.

“That spot right there, is it? Where the hips meet the spine?”

Papyrus’s jaw dropped in horror, immediately he began to panic and fight against the ropes with everything he had. Dropwart grinned evilly, her suspicions confirmed by his reaction.

“NOOOOOO!! PLEASE!! PLEASE DON’T!!” Papyrus pleaded, tears already falling down his cheeks. “I’LL DO ANYTHING!! JUST PLEASE NOT THAT!!”

Sans in turn pulled even harder against the ropes, growling and grunting with frustration.

“Don’t you dare!” he threatened. “Don’t lay a single finger on him!!”

Dropwart only chuckled in reply. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that, deary … that’s what these are for!”

With another flick of the wand, the large group of feathers danced and swirled and twirled around Papyrus’s secret sweet spot. The younger skeleton was immediately lost in a spasming fit of laughter, screaming, crying and thrashing. Completely hysterical and unable to utter a single cohesive word.

“NYAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! N-N-NAHAHAHAHA!!! AGH!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHA…!! PL-PLE-AHAHAHAHAHA!!”

It didn’t take long for the red smoke to immediately start pouring out of his open mouth. Dropwart wasted no time funneling it into the large vial, Sans could see the label on the glass container read; ‘Hysterical’. The look of utter delight spread across Dropwart’s wicked expression, as she watched Papyrus struggle and suffer.

Sans pulled so hard, he could feel the rope burning into his bones. But he didn’t care, he had hoped with all of his might that witnessing Papyrus being tortured like this would be the motivation he finally needed to break out of the restraints. But even with his growing resentment towards their new kidnapper, it wasn’t enough to break free. Exhausted and hanging limp against the stake, he watched his brother hopelessly laugh and scream in unbearable ticklish agony.

“Let him GO!!” Sans growled over the sound of his brother’s hysteria.

“All in due time, deary.” Dropwart giggled, watching the vial fill up with Papyrus’s glowing laughter.

“Come … on!” Sans grunted, still struggling against the ropes. “Get off of him!! Don’t touch him, you ugly old crone!!”

In an instant, Dropwart’s face changed. The giddy smile across her face dropped to one of shock as she turned to give Sans a wide-eyed expression. At first, her change in demeanor startled the older skeleton, but he kept his gaze on her spiteful and steaming with hatred. He finally said something that got under her skin, he wasn’t about to take it back now.

As the vial filled to the brim, Dropwart kept her gaze on Sans as she placed the cork on top. Before giving her wand another wave and commanding the feathers to stop, her eyes narrowed to a disdainful expression towards Sans. She glared at him with an intensity that almost matched the one he had for her. As the feathers dropped to the ground again and the room was filled with the sound of Papyrus gasping and coughing for air, Dropwart faced Sans, her voice suddenly low and menacing.

“I think you will be the one to fill the last vial, then.”

Ordinarily, this would be the part where Dropwart would turn away to place the full vial on the table and retrieve another. But this time, as she gripped the glowing red container in her hands, she brought the feathers to life again with another flick of the wand.

In an instant, the pastel cluster of fluffy feathers dived under the back of Sans’s shirt, intruding in from the top of his collar. Just as he had feared, the intense group of feathers headed straight for the grooves of his back. They swished and twirled and brushed and dragged along his ultra-sensitive spot, tickling like mad.

“AAAAAAAGGHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! AHAHAHAHAHA!! NAHAHAHAHA!!! AAAGH!!”

Sans didn’t even try to beg for mercy this time, he knew that this was just her petty revenge for calling her ugly. Bucking and thrashing his body around did nothing to deter the feathers from attacking his vulnerable spot. Tears flew in every direction as he cackled and screeched in total anguish.

To make matters worse, Dropwart didn’t even move to grab ahold of the final vial. She just stood there, evilly watching Sans writhe in ticklish agony with a glaring smirk across her face.

“This is what you get for being rude to your hostess, deary!” she cruelly taunted.

It took a solid minute before Papyrus regained enough breath to properly hold his head up straight. His breathing was still ragged and strained but was steadily returning to normal, at least until he saw Sans. Although he couldn’t see the feathers as they were perfectly hidden down his shirt, the way Sans was struggling combined with the look on his face told him everything.

“What…. What are you … doing?!” Papyrus tried to scream, but his body was too weak from breathing so hard. “You…. You already got … the worst spot … out of me!! L-Let him … go!”

“Oh yes, deary, I got the hysterical laughter from you,” Dropwart replied in a patronizing tone. “But from him, I think I’m gonna need something just a bit more pungent.”

She finally turned back towards the table to replace the full vial with an empty one, leaving poor Sans a laughing, screaming, crying mess. Tears flung in every direction as he rapidly shook his head. Nothing alleviated the flaring tingles that left his body absolutely wracked with laughter.

“Oh Sans….” Papyrus felt so helpless, standing there watching him suffer. More than anything he wanted to break out of the bonds to rescue his brother. Exactly how Sans had always tried to do for him.

It seemed to take forever before Dropwart returned with the empty vial. The minutes went by like hours for poor Sans. His throat was positively worn down and on fire from the shrieking laughter that tore from him. Surprisingly, it hadn’t yet manifested into smoke for Dropwart to collect. A horrified thought raced through the skeleton’s already dizzy mind. What if she needed to do even more to tickle him in addition to getting after his worst spot? If she aimed for any other spots like his feet or underarms, there was no way he could take it! This was already pushing him past the brink of insanity.

He tried to let out a terrified scream, but to his horror, nothing came out but a barely audible squeak. Dropwart looked on eagerly as Sans dissolved into silent laughter. It was so strained and so quiet, they could hear the dripping sound of Sans’s tears hitting the wooden floor.

“There it is,” Dropwart eagerly whispered.

Eventually something finally did spill out of Sans’s mouth, the phosphorescent blue smoke. This time it seemed to glow brighter than any form of laughter that had come out of the brothers before. Sans could only take short little inhalations before practically choking to cough out the quiet chortling.

Thankfully, once the vial was filled to the top with the glowing blue smoke, Dropwart waved her wand to finally put an end to the tickling feathers. Sans inhaled so deeply his bones began to shake. The lingering tingles of the feathers dropping from the back of his shirt caused leftover laughter to come pouring freely from his mouth. His body wracked with quiet sobs and still-bubbling chuckles that threatened to torture him even further.

“Shh, it’s okay Sans,” Papyrus gently comforted. “It’s over, everything’s gonna be okay.”

He wished more than anything that he could reach out to physically comfort him. Poor Sans was so exhausted and weak. Even the act of crying was too strenuous for him to take. Before Dropwart turned back to the table to complete her collection, Papyrus got a good look at the label of the last vial. It read; ‘Silent Laughter’.

With all seven glass vials filled to the brim with the glowing laughter, Dropwart giddily reached for the wooden spoon still resting in the cauldron of bubbling potion. One by one she added each container of laughter, watching the potion hiss and bubble with each new change to its formula. The echoes of the skeleton’s laughter reverberated off the walls of the cottage with every ingredient that was added.

Papyrus watched on in horror, fearful for what she was planning to do with that deadly-looking brew. Sans’s head still hung limply in place, though he was too exhausted to look up, he could still hear the sounds of the contained laughter as Dropwart added them to the mixture. The overly sweet smell of the potion once again overtook the cottage, the aroma was so strong that it almost made Sans sick to his nonexistent stomach.

After what felt like forever, Sans finally had enough strength to lift his head, his breathing slow and steady. He blinked the tears and blurriness from his sockets to see Dropwart pulling out the large wooden spoon from the cauldron. She had scooped up a small amount of the still steaming potion in the spoon. She gently blew cool air over it that immediately extinguished the steam. She gave the violet liquid a satisfied sniff before turning back to the exhausted skeletons.

“It’s ready,” she said eagerly. “Now who wants a taste?”

#Tickletober #Tickletober2024 #Undertale #LaughterLand Story #Sans #Papyrus

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tozettastone · 3 months ago

Note

An AU where the Sanin's summons are switched : Tsunade the Snake, Orochimaru the Toad and Jiraya the Slug.

Konoha's access to antivenom drastically improves

Every shinobi healed via Katsuyu's baby slug thing in canon now simply has to hope a medic can get to them

Orochimaru grows warts, and has learnt an extremely specific medical technique to freeze burn them off

Tsunade refuses to summon Manda. He's rude.

Jiraiya has like five new techniques that revolve around slime. He tells everyone that slime is actually very attractive because it's so shiny. Women like shiny things, you know. Nobody believes him.

#ask #anon #ask meme

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crimson-calligraphyx · 1 year ago

Text

What do four best friends do when they can't agree on where to go on their next "Girl's Trip"? Well, they have a competition—whoever wins gets to choose where to go. The catch? It involves candy underwear and subtlety. Disclaimer: this is completely fictional. I do not own Bad Omens or anyone affiliated with them. This is a RPF; don't like? Don't read. Hope you enjoy! 😊 Sexual content: oral sex & fingering; female receiving. slight knife play. Word count: 5,204 Costumes: Anastasia Riley Adeline I think y'all can picture Gemma's costume Candy thong Tag list: @kingdomof-omens @cheyfi @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo *if you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Heavy bass vibrated through not only the walls of our home, but the entirety of my body, shaking me to the core. The air in the foyer was thick with the smoke billowing from the fog machine, creeping low against the wooden floors and swirling as I walked through it.

Continuing through our home, I couldn’t help the nagging thought in my head of whether we really should have a strobe light going or not. It was starting to make me dizzy; the last thing we needed was someone dropping in the middle of the living room from a seizure, but the girls insisted it was necessary for the night and told me to stop being such a worry wart.

It was Halloween night, and the girls and I were getting ready for the impromptu party we threw together. We invited practically the whole block, shoving flyers into their mailboxes the night before, not expecting half of them to show. Still, we went all out and bought two kegs and brought out the entirety of our liquor cabinet, along with probably a dozen pizzas just in case.

It was LA after all, and word does spread like wildfire here, so maybe there was a chance of a huge turnout.

I made my way up the stairs and into my bedroom to check on how the others were doing with their costumes, stopping short when I got a look at Gemma’s outfit. Nicholas outdid himself—the ‘ink’ on Gemma’s arms was that of Noah’s, though rushed from the amount of time we had to get ready. Still, he did his job, and you could tell they were supposed to be the crimson waves and the grayscale portrait Noah had. And of course, the snake with the forbidden fruit on the neck.

Gemma stood with a proud smile on her face, waving her hands up and down her body to brandish her outfit. I snorted, taking in the cropped black tank top, short black skirt, and fishnet combo. She had a white shoelace around the waistband of the skirt to mimic the drawstring on his stage pants, and even had the chain necklace and bracelet he wore on his left wrist.

“Single glove or hand wraps?” she asks, holding up one in each hand. “The glove is more infamous in my opinion, but it might get sweaty,” I shrugged. “Up to you.” She tilts her head back in forth, pondering before settling with the hand wraps. She tossed the glove onto the bed, hitting Adeline with it, who was lying on her stomach.

“If you’re gonna hit me in the ass with a glove, make sure your hand is in it,” Adeline teases, looking back at us over her shoulder. "Duly noted," Gemma laughs and makes her way over to the bed, promptly slapping Adeline over her bustle-clad ass. "What even are you?" Adeline rolls over and stands up, picking up her fedora and placing it on her head. She points to the holster strapped to her thigh that holds a knife, presumably fake. "I'm a monster hunter. You know, like if the Winchester's had a sister." Gemma nods her head slowly, "Riiight, gotcha."

I shake my head at them with a smirk playing on my lips, turning my attention to the mirror. I adjusted the frilled collar around my neck, hoping it wouldn't suffocate me too much during the night, followed by the thigh-high stockings, having the bells on my skirt jingle as I moved. "You think I should do some sort of clown makeup or just leave it with the smokey eye?" I asked, turning to Nick. "Nah," he shakes his head and takes a sip of his beer. "I think it's fine the way it is."

I shrugged, accepting his answer, and tightened the pigtails on my head one last time just as Riley made her way into the room. I gasped when I saw the orange tattered dress and burlap hood, adorned with Sam's stitched face. I was astonished at how good she looked. She wraps her arms around herself, trying to make herself small as a pink tinge formed on her cheeks. I knew she felt uncomfortable, completely stepping out of her comfort zone, but her costume really was amazing.

"Is it that bad?" she asks, digging the toe of her platformed boot into the carpet with uncertainty. "Girl, no! You look amazing!" I reassure her, motioning for her to spin around so I could get a full view. She obliges, hesitantly spinning and extending her arms out by her sides, the skirt of her dress swishing around her. She halts facing me, "Thanks, Stace," she giggles, the start of a confident smile spreading on her face.

"Alright bitches, now that we're all here," Gemma announces, gaining everyone's attention. She holds up her hand, clasped around a bundle of what appeared to be candy necklaces. "I have a little game for us to play tonight. Know how we've been fighting over where to go for our next Girl's Trip?" She asks, tossing each of us a string of candies with a sly smirk. I held the candy up in front of me, quickly realizing these weren't necklaces, but thongs. "Gem, what the fuck are you getting at?" I asked accusingly. She chortled as the rest of us girls exchanged wary glances, only imagining what she had in mind. "We're going to wear these tonight and see who can get rid of the candies the fastest. Winner gets to choose our destination," she winks, stepping into the G-string and sliding it underneath her skirt, completely disregarding Nicholas sitting behind her. "A-and how do you expect us to do that?" Riley asks timidly, the blush rearing her face again.

Gemma chuckles and makes her way over to Riley, taking the ties of the burlap hood between her thumb and index finger, and twiddling it. "C'mon Riles, use that brain of yours. You're gonna get each and every one of those boys at this party to take a nibble," she chomps the air playfully and tugs on the string to release the knot with a laugh. "Hey!" Riley gasps, throwing her hands on her head to stop the burlap sack from falling to the floor. "Not funny," she grumbles, situating the hood back in its original place. "I don't know, Gemma. That's a little... risque." "That's the whole point, Riles! Maybe you'll get lucky with Jol—" "Shh!" Riley frantically covers Gemma's mouth and glances briefly at Nick, her face now beet red and eyes wide as saucers.

I exchanged a knowing look with Adeline, both of us snickering quietly. It was no secret that Riley had a thing for Jolly, always growing quiet and tucking herself behind one of us whenever he was in the room. And when he spoke to her? Forget it. It's like her brain short-circuits and she forgets how to speak, only able to laugh and play with the hem of her shirt. It was cute though, and I knew that a part of this game Gemma had planned was to break Riley out of her shell a bit.

With a shrug, I slipped out of my non edible underwear and tossed it into my hamper, replacing it with the candy thong. It was a little snug, and felt weird as the chalky beads rolled over my skin, but I was determined to get this off as quickly as possible. I was desperate to go to Hawaii.

Adeline steps into my bathroom to exchange her underwear, and Riley looks between the three of us when she returns, visibly shaking. She takes a deep breath and makes her way into my bathroom, doing the same as Adeline.

"Y'all are crazy," Nicholas comments with a chuckle and stands up, slipping his Michael Myers mask over his head. "Please, like you don't want to take a nibble," Gemma winks, bending slightly and wriggling her hips in his direction. I could just imagine the eye roll that was hidden by his mask as he silently sauntered through us, heading downstairs. "At least he's in character," I snorted, and we shared a laugh then trailed after him, ready for our night of fun as we descended the stairs.

Hitting the bottom step, I could just barely hear the doorbell over the music blasting through our home, the bass still vibrating through me. I made my way to the door, throwing it open to be met with a pair of dark eyes, covered slightly by shaggy bangs and shimmering from the strobe light behind me. I take in Noah's blood-stained white T-shirt and jeans as he holds a Ghostface mask in his right hand.

A smirk slowly spreads on his face as I stared for much longer than I should have, soaking in how fucking easy it was for him to look so good, and I could feel my face start to warm. Heat simmers low in my belly from the way he locks eyes with me and smolders at me—he knew exactly what he was doing. Noah and I have been playing this cat-and-mouse game for months, both of us too stubborn to admit our feelings to one another regardless of how obvious it was.

I cleared my throat, "Billy Loomis, huh?" "How could you tell?" he chuckles. I rolled my eyes, "It's not like Scream isn't my favorite slasher or anything." He feigns surprise, his eyebrows rising. "Is that so?" he teases, that smirk finding his lips again. I remained silent while I watched his eyes trail up and down my body, taking in my Jester costume.

He slowly brings his eyes back to mine, lingering on my chest briefly. "So, you gonna let me in or am I supposed to party on the porch by myself all night?" "Right," I chuckled, opening the door wider, allowing him room to enter. "Welcome to the night circus, where you can be a freak on purpose," I shoot him a wink, waving my arm in a grand fashion. "Why thank you, Anastasia," he crosses through the threshold, the way he put emphasis on my name causing a shiver to roll down my spine. No one uses my full name.

His eyes never left mine as he brushed past me, the bells on my dress jingling as he ran a finger across the bottom of it. My heart pounds from the seduction in his eyes, his proximity, the anticipation of his fingers grazing my skin. I watched him disappear into the kitchen while the strobes gave the illusion that his body was lagging behind, leaving nothing but the fog swirling in his wake.

Huffing out a breath, I go to shut the door blindly, having a boot wedge between it and the frame. I looked up at the owner of said boot, belonging to Jolly, who stood there sporting a kind smile with fake blood dribbling down from the corner of his mouth. "Shit, sorry Jolly. I didn't see you there," I apologized with a grimace and stepped back to allow him inside. He laughs, and I catch a glimpse of the fake fangs settled on his teeth. "That's alright, I could see you were a bit preoccupied," he winks before making his way inside, trailing after Noah.

I felt my cheeks burn hot from embarrassment, and suddenly the collar around my neck was beginning to suffocate me. Shutting the door, I took a deep breath to recollect myself and calm my erratic heart. This was going to be an interesting night.

The night carried on, with dozens upon dozens of strangers funneling into our home. Half the pizza was gone, the kegs have been tapped, and I was feeling pretty good after a few drinks. I managed to get a couple bites taken from the candy G-string by said strangers, as did the others, but we appeared to still be neck-and-neck in our little competition.

Folio was running rampant around the house in his werewolf costume, sloshing beer in his wake, while Adeline and Noah were nowhere in sight. Riley had tucked herself in the corner of the living room, trying her best to make small talk with Jolly, who seemed very interested in what she had to say. And of course, Nicholas was taking advantage of his Michael Myers costume, sneaking up on people and scaring the shit out of them.

"Stacy!" I heard Gemma call my name as I snagged a slice of pizza. I turned towards her while taking a bite, perking an eyebrow up in questioning. "Come do a keg stand with me!" I rolled my eyes, swallowing the bite I took. "Let me finish my slice of pizza first, Gem. I haven't eaten all night!" She wasn't even paying attention to what I had to say, giggling as she skipped on over to the keg.

I followed after her, shaking my head with a chuckle as she threw herself onto Matt's back, who barely had time to register what was happening. He caught her just in time, nearly falling forward as he hooked her knees on his elbows, scolding her. "Matty," she laughs, "can you help me with the keg stand?" "If it gets you off my back, sure," he huffs. "I may be dressed as Goku, but I'm not a Super Saiyan, so you gotta find another person to help hold your drunk ass up." "Deal!" she lands a sloppy kiss on his cheek before sliding off his back, immediately waving me towards her.

I sighed and tossed my pizza onto the closest counter, knowing she would just keep pestering me until I obliged. Gemma takes hold of the handles and bends at the waist, beginning to hoist herself up by kicking her legs out. Matt and I exchanged looks and rolled our eyes at her impatience, both of us grasping a leg to steady her as she flipped upside down, her skirt falling and exposing the candy underwear.

"You ready?" Matt asks her, not even noticing that her ass was now exposed, and brings the spout to her mouth. She responds by giggling, taking the spout between her teeth. "Three, two, one... Go!" he counts down, opening the spigot and funneling beer to her.

It was messy at first as she continued to giggle, foam billowing from her lips, dripping into her hair and on top of the keg. After a moment, she stifles her hysterics and gets a better grasp on the spout, finally drinking it down as the room starts to count how long she could stay up.

"Gemma, what the fuck are you wearing?" Matt laughs just after the room counts to eight. I brought my attention to him; he finally noticed the edible underwear, unapologetically staring at her ass with a shit-eating grin spread across his face. Gemma starts to laugh, the spout falling from her mouth, which continues to pour beer all over the floor. Her arms buckle as she laughs harder, and she topples backward, landing straight on her back. She groans out in pain, only to erupt into another fit of giggles.

I snorted with amusement and shook my head at the sight before me, reaching for the spigot to close it. "Are you alright?" I asked her and promptly offered a hand to help her up. She accepts my hand and pulls herself up, stumbling to her feet. "Oh yeah, that was hilarious," she chuckles, turning her attention to Matt. "For your information, Matty, it's called candy underwear." "Right, but why are you wearing it?" She motions her head at me, "We're having a competition—me, Stacy, Adeline, and Riley—and for the life of us, we can't agree on where to go for vacation. So, like the genius that I am, I decided whoever can get all the candy bitten off by the end of the night, wins."

He barks out a laugh, shaking his head. "That is the stupidest shit you've ever come up with, Gem." He grabs a solo cup and starts to fill it with beer from the keg, "Where is it that you guys want to go that you can't agree on something?" I mimic his actions, filling my own cup. "I wanna go to Hawaii," I shrugged, followed by taking a sip of my beer. "Riley wants to go to the Bahamas, I think Addy wants to go to Niagara Falls." "What about you, Gem?" Matt asks, pointing his cup in her direction. "Las Vegas!" she shouts.

He nods slowly and takes a long sip of his drink, mulling over our answers. With the hand that was holding the solo cup, he points a finger at me and gives me a quick head nod. "Bend over, I'm taking a bite." "Excuse me?" I folded my arms over my chest, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Hawaii is the best option in my opinion," he shrugs, putting his cup down and closing the gap between us.

He sidles up behind me, lifting the skirt of my dress on his own as he crouches. I shiver from the feeling of his warm breath on my backside as he brings the candy into his mouth, his lips brushing against my skin. I could feel him pull on the string as he fought with it to break the candy, having it snap back into place when he successfully took what felt like a big chunk off. I glanced at Gemma with wide eyes, not expecting this from Matt, and she did not seem amused by any means.

"You better fucking win this shit, Stace," he mumbles and stands up, chewing on the candy. "That's the whole idea, Matt," I winked at him, tugging my dress back into place before returning to my pizza waiting for me on the counter. Gemma scoffs, "What about me? That doesn't seem very fair." "You said it yourself, Gem. It's a competition," Matt retorts. "One of you has to win, and none of you will if I take a bite off each of your asses." Her mouth drops open, appalled by his words, and she quickly exits the room with an exasperated exhale.

"Drama queen," he snickers as he washes down the sweets with a pull of his beer. "The other guys know about this?" "Nick does, not sure if the others caught wind or not. A few strangers were brave enough to take a nibble or two," I chuckled. "Well then, carry on. The night is still young." He bumps his cup with mine in cheers before trailing after Gemma.

With a shrug, I did just so and topped off my cup before heading into the living room. The air in the room was sticky from all the heat radiating off people's bodies, everyone practically shoulder to shoulder as they danced and drank whatever they had in their hands. I take a large pull of my drink, starting my journey through the sea of people until I lock eyes with those same alluring eyes from earlier in the night.

Noah stands there, leaning against the wall opposite of me with his arms folded over his chest. A smirk begins to spread across his face when he sees that he has my undivided attention, and my heart leaps into my throat from how long he holds my gaze. He only breaks eye contact when Nick sidles up beside him, lifting his mask to speak to Noah.

I take another sip of my drink, hoping to swallow my heart back where it belongs but to no avail. Whatever Nick had said to Noah only made his smirk grow, his eyes flickering back to me as he pushed off the wall and began to cut through the crowd towards me.

What the fuck did Nick say to him?

I straighten my posture as he stands in front of me, trying to give the impression that I wasn't beginning to crumble underneath his devious presence. He leans towards me, bringing his mouth so close to my ear that I can feel his breath ghost by it, a chill running down my spine. "Come with me," he says lowly, his tone immediately spreading warmth to my core.

He brushes past me, this time his fingers grazing against my thigh, and my breath gets caught in my throat. Taking another gulp of my beer, I followed him out of the living room and down the hallway that passed by the kitchen. He halts when we're away from the crowd, leaning up against the wall again with the same smirk on his face from moments before. He doesn't say anything, just stares at me.

Now annoyed by his silence, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Why did you bring me here, Noah?" "Like you don't know," he chuckles. I squint my eyes at him, "What are you getting at?" He hums with amusement, pushing himself off the wall, and stalks towards me again, this time brandishing a knife. My eyes grow wide and I back against the wall, my heart pounding as panic starts to wash over me.

He snorts, lowering his hand. "Relax, it's fake. I'm just trying to stay in character. You know, Billy Loomis and all." I huffed, "That wasn't funny." "Mmm, was pretty funny to me. Shoulda seen your face." "Fuck you, Noah," I let out a breathy laugh. "So, you gonna tell me what's going on or can I go back to the party?" He takes another step towards me, tipping my head up with the blade of the plastic knife under my chin. I remained calm this time, knowing it was fake, and stared up at him as I waited for an answer. "A little birdy told me there's a competition between you girls. Is that true?"

So, that's what Nick told him.

"That is true," I confirmed. "And does it involve candy underwear, or was that a lie?" My throat goes dry; I swallow as my heart begins to pound again. "Y-yes," I stammered. "Interesting," he muses, tracing the blade leisurely down my throat. "I love candy necklaces; it's the same candy, right?" I nodded shallowly. "I may have to partake in this competition then if you'll allow it." I take a deep breath in as he continues to skim the knife across my breasts, dragging it down the front of my dress. I lost my voice while my reply swirled round and round in my head, dizzying me as I saw his eyes darken with mischief while he scrutinized my every move.

The knife reaches the middle of my thigh, and he changes direction, slipping it under my dress. He inches it back up my thigh, bringing the heat in my stomach to a simmer as it neared my center. I squeeze my legs together when he slides it between them, and he chuckles. "I'll take that as a no," he says, retracting the knife. "No, you may," I breathed. "Maybe without the knife, though." "Fair enough." He agrees, tucking it into his back pocket.

He lowers himself to his knees, leering up at me with hunger in his eyes as he fists the bottom of my dress. "May I?" I gave a quick nod and held my breath as his head disappeared under the skirt. He wastes no time at all; I can feel the tug against the strings as he takes a section of the beads into his mouth, his warm breath caressing my mound. I chomp down on my lip to hold back the mewl that wanted to escape me from the sensation.

The thong snaps back into place when he successfully takes a bite, causing me to jump slightly. I heard him chuckle, but he didn't pull back. Instead, he takes another mouthful, this time sucking them into his mouth rather than taking them in between his teeth. His lips brush against me ever-so-slightly, my body reacting to the closeness by clenching around nothing.

Fuck. This was turning me on way too fucking much.

"Noah," I warned. "I-I think you've had enough." He releases the candy, and they snap back against me, once again causing me to buck my hips forward. The sweets were now sticky from his saliva, the underwear even more uncomfortable now as the beads stick against my skin. His face emerges from my skirt, and he looks up at me through the dark bangs covering his eyes, licking his lips slowly. "Sorry, I just really like candy necklaces. Let me take one last bite."

He doesn't even wait for me to respond, heading back to where he just was. "No-waaah," I began to scold him for his behavior, only to be interrupted by the moan he elicited from me. He had slipped his tongue through the strings, padding it against my clit while he pulled on another mouthful of candies. "That bite tasted really good." He chuckles deviously, the vibration buzzing through me and sending another tingle through my middle.

He moves back, looking up at me with that same sly smirk he's been brandishing all night. "I really wanna eat it all. And I don't just mean the candy." Heat rises up my neck and across my face from his words, and my clit throbs just from the thought of him devouring every last bead before devouring me. I clenched my thighs together, trying to get some friction where I wanted it the most as I eagerly waited for him to touch me again.

"I know you want to win this competition, Anastasia," he mutters sardonically. "Why don't you let me help?" I swallowed harshly, giving him a quick nod. "Come with me," he coos, taking my hand as he stands, and brings me into the closest room.

It felt wrong as he shut the door to Riley's bedroom and locked it, and even worse when he shoved me playfully onto her bed. The feeling of guilt quickly diminishes, melting into desire as he slowly clambers onto the bed, settling between my legs. He bunches my dress up, exposing the edible underwear once again, lowering himself until his mouth was only a mere centimeter away from it.

He takes one single bead between his teeth, breaking it off and chewing it, all while staring up at me with fire burning in his eyes. He does it again, and again, his mouth dangerously close to my clit, until I couldn't handle him teasing me any longer. "Noah," I whined, wriggling my hips in front of him eagerly. "Please." "Ah, ah," he scolds, "you gotta wait until all of this candy is gone." He laughs when I let out an aggravated huff, taking another mouthful of the candy and sucking on it.

"Tastes so good," he moans out. "The candy is sweet, but your arousal makes it even sweeter," he muses, letting the moist candies fall from his mouth, slapping against my clit. I whimpered and bucked my hips forward, having him take the same candies back in his mouth and finally break them off. I breathed deep with anticipation, my chest heaving as I watched him lazily chew the sweets, his eyes boring into mine with animosity. "Hm," his eyes fall back to the thong, a satisfied grin grazing his lips. "Would you look at that, all the candies are gone. All there is left to eat is..." His eyes flicker back to mine, the smile only growing on his face. "You."

I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down with a bruising force while he brought his mouth down to me. He pushes the strings aside, never breaking eye contact as he runs his tongue along my soaked folds agonizingly slow, the look alone shaking me to the core. He takes his time, savoring me as he casually licks his way up to my clit, lolling the tip of his tongue around the sensitive bud.

"Fuck," I whispered, and my head falls back against the mattress. My eyes fluttered shut when he applied a bit more pressure to my clit, still moving in slow circles. I moaned lightly when he entered a finger inside of me, and then another seconds later. He unhurriedly curls them upwards, just barely pressing against that sweet spot as he carries on.

"Look at me," he mumbles against me. I don't move—I can't, not with the way he's paralyzing me, spreading bliss through my entire body with just his two fingers and tongue. "Anastasia," he says sternly, retracting his fingers. "I wanna watch those pretty eyes of yours roll to the back of your head when I make you come." I whimpered from the unwanted emptiness, once again clenching around nothing as I craved to be filled again. Knowing he wouldn't continue until I obliged due to his stubbornness, I had no choice but to pick my head up and look at him.

"Good girl," he chuckles lowly, his eyes glimmering with fervor. He rewards me by sliding his long fingers inside of me, thrusting them with urgency. It took every fiber of my being to not throw my head back down and cry out, knowing he would stop if I were to do that. He lowers his mouth down to me, working his tongue around my awaiting clit strategically, quickly building up my climax.

My legs start to tremble, my hips involuntarily lifting off the mattress to press my cunt harder against his tongue. "That's it," he moans against me, the bass in his voice vibrating through me. "Let go, Anastasia." His eyes darken as he continues to leer up at me, grazing his teeth against my clit before encasing it with his lips, sucking on it. His fingers continued to curl against my walls feverishly, beckoning me to come undone, his eyes commanding me to fall apart under his control.

The pressure continued to climb with each stroke against my G-spot, and I knew by the curl of his lips that he could tell I was close. The more my body trembled beneath him, the more he concentrated on his actions, watching the way my body reacted to him.

The spool finally springs loose inside of me, my hands fisting the sheets as I cried out from the ecstasy coursing through me. My eyes wrench shut, my body quakes uncontrollably, and he continues to carry me through my high, his actions relentless. He laps up every last drop of my orgasm with a breathy laugh, his hands pressed against my thighs to hold my legs open, not finished with me just yet.

He only stops when I go limp, collapsing against the sheets, and my chest heaves as I try to catch the breath that he knocked out of me. As I lay here, nearly comatose, I felt him pull on the strings of the candy thong one last time, only I didn't feel them snap back into place. “That oughta do it," he says confidently. I lift my head to look at him; the plastic knife is in his hand again, and the strings of the edible underwear are dangling off the blade.

I threw my head back and laughed—looks like I’m going to Hawaii.

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #fanfic writing #nicholas ruffilo #nick ruffilo #nick folio #jolly karlsson #joakim karlsson #matt dierkes #noah sebastian x oc #one shot

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