galexis-void - Tumblr blog

[galexis-void]

not dead. Just sick, motivation-less and out of time.

[galexis-void]

OKAY SERIOUSLY HOW TF DO YOU DO THIS-

(/pos)

I got a little obsessed and managed this between EVERYTHING ELSE SOMEHOW

 A whole case of raspberry candies.

That was what Ignacio sat on his table, what he’d just paid a solid 40 dollars for, and what might possibly be his saving grace.

Ignacio had been in an absolutely awful lee mood for the last few weeks now, his mind filled with flustering thoughts, of sensations long forgotten, of a laugh he hadn’t freed in years, of how lonely it made him feel and yet how stupid it seemed. He missed how nice it felt to just relax and let someone else take control for once, someone trusted. Nowadays he wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone with that kind of vulnerability, which made the mood all that much more unbearable.

However, when he’d heard the Candy Club had gotten a new shipment of ‘special candies’, he knew he would check it out. Lo and behold, he now had a case of what was called Giggleberry Candy, supposedly imbued with some kind of special properties. The kind that could help with this raging lee mood once and for all.

He pulled a box out of the case, opened the box, and pulled out one of the candies. It was small and round, and a sort of dark pink that was fairly easy on the eyes, and almost a bit translucent. According to the box the candy was supposed to be raspberry flavored, which, he supposed, made the color make sense. He found himself studying it, as if it were a beautiful flower he’d found growing in the grass. It brought thoughts to his mind of what it could possibly do to help his lee mood.

He took a deep breath, feeling his anticipation pull him to the breaking point before popping the candy into his mouth.

He set the box down, almost able to feel the candy traveling down his throat, practically vibrating with anticipation as he sat down on his couch. 

Suddenly, his excitement spiked, and before he knew it, an insanely ticklish sensation took over his entire belly. It felt like someone was blowing a continuous raspberry right in the middle, the sensation covering his whole belly, with absolutely no breaks for breath. It made him laugh harder than he could ever remember laughing, enough to bring mirthful tears to his eyes in seconds. It felt insane, it felt unbearable, and yet it felt so fucking nice. So nice to finally smile and laugh. So nice to let go, even for a few minutes, and let himself be. So nice to fall back onto his couch, face bright with blush, laughing his heart out and without a judgmental gaze to watch him. So nice to still have the freedom to squirm, bang his fist on the cushions below and kick his legs without the sensations stopping until the candy wore off. 

When it finally did, it faded slowly as though easing him off of his euphoric high, which didn’t completely go away, leaving him to stare at the ceiling, a large smile still plastered on his face. Tears had trailed down from bright, refreshed eyes to his dark pink cheeks, his sides hurt from laughing and his cheeks hurt from smiling. He felt so content, so happy, so grateful that he’d bought those candies.

The best part was, he still had enough for the next 39 to come.

[galexis-void]

The writing god strikes again

SO uhm

Initially this was going to be a blurb. Then I got hooked on writing out the story and suddenly wanted to pull in a third party and the dialogue started doing whatever it wanted so uhm

Long story short I'm starting to remember why writing is so fun

“W-wait, Leon, c’mon, y-you’re not really mad, right?” Ethan stammered out, backing away from his admittedly much scarier boyfriend. He’d had the idea of spooking Leon with a quick tase to his sides, but had unfortunately forgotten to account for the cup of soda in his hands.

The soda that was now all over the front of Leon’s shirt.

“You made me make a mess of myself! And now…” Leon took a second to think, before a smirk crossed his face as he thought of a punishment that’s proven to work at least for a while at their house.

“Now I’m gonna turn you into a mess!”

Suddenly Ethan was on his back, squealing as Leon’s fingers dug into his sides, sending sparks of ticklish energy shooting through his body. Of course this was what he resorted to. Ethan should have known this was coming for a long time. In fact, he sort of got the feeling that Leon wasn’t just tickling him over the soda.

Or at least, he did until his brain was flooded with ‘ITTICKLESITTICKLESNOBADBUTYESGOOD??’ as Leon’s fingers climbed his ribs, his touch becoming lighter and lighter the higher he went, planning each move carefully, slowly turning Ethan’s brain to mush with a smirk.

“Leheheon plehehehease! Ihi’m sohohohorry!” he managed between laughs, squeaking and almost folding as he suddenly received a poke to his belly, which turned into Leon scribbling all over it, leaving his ribs tingling and the anticipation of Leon going after his worse spot left unchecked.

“Aww, you didn’t think I was gonna kill ya that fast did you? I said I was going to turn you into a mess, and I know how easily anticipation does that for you. You need your tickles to be quick and easy for you to keep any sort of brain function. And that usually leads to revenge. But if I’m gonna turn you into a mess the right way, I’m gonna need your brain to basically melt.”

“H-hohow do youhu knohohow ahall thihihis?!” Ethan questioned as Leon’s fingers began to drift to his sides again.

“Dude, please, we’ve been friends since high school. You think I wouldn’t have picked up on all this by now?” Leon answered, still smirking as though he felt like the smartest man in the world for figuring out what kind of tickles made his boyfriend tick. “But, do you wanna know something else?”

“Whahahahat?”

“A little birdie told me tickle games get to you really bad~”

I’m going to fucking kill Liv, Ethan thought, his giggles calming as Leon retracted his hands and began to think.

“What game should we play, Ethan? The claw game? Maybe we could play rib piano? Or arms up? I know how much you love that one~” Leon listed the games off, watching Ethan’s face get redder and redder as he mentioned each game. Still, Ethan could never resist the urge to be a little shit.

“Aha… ahas much as you love tummy raspberries?”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say as he saw a blush cross Leon’s face before he narrowed his eyes and simply said “Arms up.”

“Ahaw shit…” Ethan mumbled as he slowly raised his arms, knowing he was in for it now. He squeaked softly as he felt Leon’s gentle fingers slowly touch down and begin to trace gentle patterns along his wrists, moving at an agonizingly slow pace down his forearms. Ethan fought a losing battle against a wobbly smile spreading like his own blush across his face, gripping onto a table leg that was just above him, causing it to scoot forward with a small, sudden scraping noise.

“Aww, what’s wrong? Can’t get through without something to help?” Leon cooed as he traced little swirls around Ethan’s inner elbows, watching in amusement as the goth struggled to hold back his giggles. “C’mon, Ethan, no cheating.~”

“Pff- i-it’s nohot- snrk- not cheating!” he squeaked out in response.

“Not not cheating? Wouldn’t that mean it is cheating? I dunno, double negatives are stupid… either way, it sounds to me like you are cheating! And you know what happens to cheaters, don’t you?~” he warned, his gentle fingers slowly traveling down Ethan’s arms and towards his underarms.

“N-nohoho, nonono, L-Leheon, wait!” he squeaked out before yelping as Leon suddenly moved to his sides, just above where his belt held his shirt tightly to his waist.

“God, dude, why do you wear these things so high? I can’t get to your hips like this!”

“Doho NOHOT tahake my behelts ohohoff!” Ethan warned with a light shove.

“I’m not, I’m not, but that can’t be comfortable, I’m just saying. They’re covering half of your sides! I might just have to tickle you again after you change out of this, just so I can do what I really wanted!”

“Gohod you’re soho mehehean!”

“Oh I’M mean? Mister Tickles Everyone Every Chance He Gets is calling ME mean? You could just admit you can’t handle the teasing, you don’t have to make shit up just to look big.”

“Nohow lohohook whoho’s beheing a hypohocrihihite!”

Leon didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes told Ethan he’d sassed him for the last time. Before he knew it, there was suddenly an unbearably gentle tracing just between his ribs and underarms, making his arms snap down in response as an embarrassingly high squeal ripped from his throat, his giggles skipping straight to hysterics, filled with squeals and shrieks every couple of seconds as Leon went a little too fast for his brain to keep up with properly.

“Ohp, looks like you lost, guess I’ll just have to keep tickling here~” Leon purred, holding back an amused laugh as Ethan struggled to string sounds into words and words into sentences, knowing his brain was filled with nothing but fireworks of energy, listening to his boots stomping loudly onto the floor behind him. Something he failed to notice, much to Ethan’s embarrassment, was the sound of a door shutting behind him.

“What the hell is all the noise…?” he heard a tired voice, Liv’s, behind him and turned to look at her, not slowing his tickles in the slightest.

“I’m tickling Ethan to death,” he answered simply.

“Ah… What happened to your shirt?”

“This little fucker happened. Why did you think I was tickling him?”

“Because he makes you look like a big puppy almost daily?”

“... Listen, don’t make me come after you next!” he warned with a blush, prompting Liv to raise her hands in surrender.

“Ohokay, okay, whatever you say, big man.” She came over to the two and knelt down beside Ethan. “God, him being such a big, scary tickler all the time can make ya forget how cute of a lee he is. I mean, look at him, his face matches his shirt at this point! What have you been doing to the poor guy, Leon?”

“KIHIHIHILLING MEHEHEHEHE!!” Ethan somehow managed through his laughter, squealing as Leon softly drummed over his tiny death spot the best he could beneath his arms.

“Teaching him a lesson about being a brat and a hypocrite. Can you believe he had the audacity to call me mean AND try to tease his way out of this? He caused this himself,” Leon corrected. “Anyway, I think now he’s just mad he lost the Arms Up game so I’m just gonna keep doing this until he apologizes.”

“Ah, so that’s what woke me up…”

“Why were you asleep at 3:30 in the afternoon, ya weirdo?”

“Oh, fuck off, it’s not my fault Streber’s tummy is comfortable. I wanted to hang out, eventually we ended up snuggling, my head was on his tummy, and you know how fucken soft he is so you also probably know what came next.”

“Ah, yeah, I get it. Did he do that thing, too, where he like, messes with your hair?”

“He did, it was so nice! He said it helps him focus but I honestly just think he knows we like it at this point. Does he ever do that to you, Ethan?” She turned to the goth, who was still pinned under (and getting the absolute shit tickled out of him by) his boyfriend, who only responded by shakily flipping her off, still finding speaking difficult between his hysterics, prompting a quiet laugh from the redhead.

“You gonna let him up anytime soon? I think he’s dying,” she asked Leon, who rolled his eyes but let up anyway, stretching his arms as Ethan slowly calmed down.

“Yeahhh, I think he’s enough of a mess. Got anything smart to say now, Eth?”

“Aheheh… awashb… yuhu… grrehehe…” he mumbled out, not making one bit of sense to himself, much less either of them.

“Oho god you got him speaking a whole other language,” Liv giggled at Ethan’s state.

“Is that even a language? I don’t even understand what he’s trying to say!” Leon pointed out, scooping up the giggly goth in his arms.

“Gibberish is a language… sorta,” she tried to argue. “It’s sorta communication.”

Leon rolled his eyes as he chuckled softly.

“Well last time I checked, Ethan’s first language was English-”

“I thought it was Spanish?”

“No, no, he’s just really fluent in Spanish, that doesn’t make it his first language.”

“Ohhh, I always thought he spoke it so well because it was his first. I could never, honestly.”

“Yeah, I know, right? It’s actually really fucken impressive. Anyway, since English is his first language and he can’t even speak that properly, I think my work is almost done here.”

“Almost?”

“You think I’m just gonna tickle my boyfriend and not cuddle with him afterwards? Do I look like a monster to you?”

“Depends on the kinda monster. Tickle monster? Yeah, very much so, actually.”

“Pft- ok, fair. C’mon, the cuddle window is closing, and if he’s not in a fluff coma soon, he’s not gonna be the only one asked why he was being so loud. Wanna watch a movie?” he asked as he carried Ethan to the couch, followed closely by Liv, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah yeah yeah! Let’s watch Pirates Of The Caribbean again!” she suggested, Leon rolling his eyes.

“You recommend that like, every time, why do I even ask anymore?” he teased, grabbing the remote and putting the movie on.

“The illusion of choice, my friend!”

Leon shook his head, chuckling quietly as he held Ethan close, the taller’s head resting on his shoulder, snuggled as close as he could be.In the few thoughts that were coherent in Ethan’s head, one of them was definitely, Worth it.

[galexis-void]

@eunchancorner one of your more recent conversations about Dexter? sort of?

There's something about the “something gets under the character's clothes and oh damn it actually tickles-” trope. that. makes me go feral. Their first yelp of surprise. The way they stand still, eyes widening in realisation. Then the first giggle slips, then another one, their body already giving a few twitches. And literally a few seconds later they're laughing their ass off, doing that goofy little dance and squealing “G-get it out, gehet it ouuut!” as they try to reach for that creature/thing themselves (unsuccessfully). Bonus points if their buddies are like “lol nah, this is too good~” and decide to enjoy the show for a minute or two alkskdjk-

This trope is so goofy, it's so fricking silly. Very silly. I love it and I need more of that.

bye lmao i was never here 🏃🏻

[galexis-void]

someone please talk to me I'm bored

[galexis-void]

Still here. Writer's block kicking my butt.

[galexis-void]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌

(UNO REVERSE)

how about this?

right back at you!

(but seriously, thank you)

[galexis-void]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌

well, thank you anon! =)

[galexis-void]

"Morning Mirth"

A/N: This took WAY too long for something that's really short. Sorry about that!

This fic is based off of the Spooky Month: Wholesome Needs AU, originally by @eunchancorner. Thanks for letting me write for your AU! =)

Summary: Dexter learns the hard way that sleeping in on a Saturday morning isn't really a thing in this house.

Trigger warnings: none that I can think of

Reminder: These stories are not built on logic. They're made to entertain, not to make sense. Also, be prepared if the characters here are out of character completely (again, the intention is not to be perfect).

All credit goes to @eunchancorner for their AU!

(fic below the cut)

     “Dexterrr!” Skid shouted. “Wake up! It’s morning time! Mom made pancakes!”

     Nothing quite says “good morning” like your hyperactive kid brother jumping on your bed while you’re still in it. It seemed he was just as energetic at the start of the day as he was at night, which was unfortunate for Dexter, who was just trying to sleep in.

     They groaned as they turned over, trying to block out the sound with the pillow. “Ugh… why are you up so early on a Saturday…”

     When it became apparent that Dexter didn’t intend to get out of bed, Skid stopped jumping and dropped to the mattress. Well, if Dexter didn’t want to get up on their own…

The sudden lack of response made Dexter suspicious. They knew from experience that Skid didn’t just stop bugging someone unless he was planning something. Cautiously, they peeked out from under the pillow, scanning for the skeleton-clad child.

     And suddenly, a bunch of tiny fingers dug into their ribs, eliciting an embarrassing shriek. “HEHEHEHEY! STAHAHAP!”

     “Nope!” Skid replied cheerfully. His hands dipped a little lower towards Dexter’s midsection. “Tickle tickle tickle!”

     Upon seeing Dexter’s blushing face, he giggled. “Mom said saying things like that makes you turn red. I wanted to see for myself. You look like a tomato!”

     Of course he’d pick up on something like that… how embarrassing. “SHUHUHUSH! *snort* NO MOHOHORE! I’M AWAHAHAHAKE!” *snort*

     From underneath the pillow, they could hear the sound of the door hitting the wall, and Lila’s voice saying. “Oh. That’s what all that racket was. You were just calling Dexter for breakfast.”

     Thankfully, the tickle onslaught immediately ceased. “They won’t get up so I had to tickle them! But I think I broke them now…”

     Dexter tossed the pillow aside, slowly sitting up in bed while giggling madly. “I’m awahake… *snort* Was that necessary…?”

     Lila smiled warmly. “Good to see you. Son, go downstairs. I need to speak with Dexter.”

     Dexter rose from their bed, running a hand through their messy hair. “I guess that’s one way to start off the we-EEK!”

     Lila had taken the moment to squeeze their sides. The grin she wore was one Dexter knew all too well since going to live with her. “While I am glad to see you’re awake, you’re also very, VERY late to breakfast. Saturday morning breakfast is a tradition in this house, and I’m afraid I can’t let this slide.”

     Dexter didn’t get to the table for another fifteen minutes.

-END-

[galexis-void]

SAVING THIS IMMEDIATELY-

SO

I ended up making a thing for my Fever Dream AU. I thought it would just be a blurb but this bitch got LONG

Anygay

Enjoy (fic under cut)

Two weeks.

Ross and Roy hadn’t seen Kevin smile in two weeks.

Granted, they rarely saw him smile at all. Between what he had going on at home and the horrors these three faced, it was understandable too. But usually, when Roy cracked a particularly snarky joke towards someone being rude or Ross found something cute in a store, it would at least get him to crack a small smile, and even that would be enough for them. But lately, nothing seemed to work. It was like their friend was caught in a gray storm cloud, too dense for any rays of light to penetrate. 

It honestly hurt a little, seeing their friend so pained by his own thoughts that he couldn’t even smile for them, especially knowing that they were his only friends, and damn near his only reason to smile.

They felt like they had to do something. Thankfully, there’s always one surefire way to get someone to smile. And today that was what they were going to do.

Of course, to Kevin it seemed like any other day. All he had to feel good about was his friendship with the two, and even that didn’t seem to be enough to brighten his constantly falling mood.

He’d finally found a way to hang out at Ross’s house without his mom finding out, and while things were calm, and frankly it was quite nice not being at home, he still felt his mood slipping. He didn’t want to, he wanted to be happy. He wanted to be having fun. Everything just… sucked.

Suddenly he felt Ross wrapping his arms around him, and he looked at the fellow ravenette.

“Wh-why are you hugging me…?” Kevin asked, a little confused. Had he really made it that obvious?

“Because you haven’t smiled in weeks, dude. We’re getting worried.”

We?

Kevin suddenly noticed Roy’s absence. He hadn’t even noticed he was gone until just now, last time he looked Roy was finding a game for them to play. Was he worried too? What was he doing?

“Where’s Roy-EEE!?” he squealed as he suddenly felt hands squeezing his sides, hands that belonged to the ‘missing’ friend.

Well, that’s that question answered.

“Royyy!” he whined, looking back at him, a bright blush on his face.

“I knew it!” the fluffy brunette said triumphantly, “I knew you were ticklish. Looks like our plan is gonna work after all, Rossy boy!”

“Plan? Wh- I- What plan?”

“The one that’s gonna get you to smile. At least for a little bit. Hate me all you want, but you need this, dude.”

“Wha- Why would I hate y-AHA-” Kevin covered his mouth as he felt Roy squeezing his sides again, holding back the laughter that had nearly burst through alongside the squeal.

Truth be told, up until now Kevin didn’t even know if he was ticklish. He figured he was when he was younger but he also figured that he’d grown out of it since he’d been tickled so little in his life. He thought, if anything, he’d only be a little ticklish.

Turns out not only was he wrong, but he was wrong by a LOT.

He’d forgotten how absolutely electrifying it felt, the strange, laughter-inducing sensations that absolutely did NOT feel like it was just in his sides, even though that was the only spot Roy was going after.

He stamped his foot on the ground, trying to dispel the ticklish energy and try to help fight the laughter that practically wanted to burst from his chest, hiding his smile behind his hands.

“Kevin, c’mon, we’re doing this to see you smile! Don’t hide it from us!” Ross asked, and Kevin could hear in his voice how amused he was at the situation, which just made the poor hoodied boy blush more. He shook his head stubbornly, trying to hide more of his face, tugging his hood up.

“N-Noho! Wait!”

“Wait for what? We’ve waited two weeks, dude!” Roy teased, one hand squeezing the poor ravenette’s side, the other hand tazing the other side. Somehow the mismatched sensations just made the tickles worse!

“R-Ross! Help!” Kevin squeaked out, trying to wiggle towards him, only to be scooped into a hold, Roy’s tickles only following his movement into a much more vulnerable position.

“I’ll help, alright, help you to smile,” was Ross’s response, keeping his arms wrapped around Kevin’s chest as he poked randomly at his ribs, eliciting a bright squeak and more squirming.

“I think we’re getting to him!~ I need to find a better spot, though, one that really gets him going,” Roy observed, his tickles moving inward to Kevin’s belly, noting how his reactions worsened. Kevin began to struggle to hold in his laughter and attempted to curl in on himself in a fruitless effort to block Roy’s fingers.

“Hm.. Hey Ross, mind pressing a little more? We’re so close to getting him to laugh, I can feel it!”

“I thought we were just getting him to smile?”

“That was before I found out he was this ticklish! Now I gotta know!”

Kevin felt Ross shift behind him a little before suddenly digging into his ribs, prompting Kevin to grab onto his hands with a loud squeal, forcing him to not only show his smile, but release all his pent-up laughter.

“Woah!” “Hoholy shit!”

He blushed even brighter hearing the other two boys’ reactions to him breaking, wishing he could hide his face again.

“ROHOY NAHAHAHAHOHOHO!! ROHOHOSS LEHEMME GOHOHOHOHO!! AHAHAHA GAHAHAD IHIT TIHIHIHICKLES!!”

“It does? I never would have guessed!~” Roy cooed, switching from gentle squishes and scribbles to pokes, making the taller squeak brightly.

“Actually… Ross, let up for a second!” Roy requested, letting up his own attack. Ross shrugged but complied, just holding the giggling boy as he slowly quieted down, looking up at the two.

“Wh-hehe… whyhy’d you stohop…?”

Roy couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the question, raising an eyebrow.

“So you were having fun? Why’d ya ask Ross to let go, then?~” he asked teasingly, the tone alone enough to raise the pitch in Kevin’s giggles, making him sound almost squeaky.

“Rohohoy pleheheheaseeee!” Kevin whined in response, practically feeling like his face was on fire with how much he was blushing. He turned his head to the side, trying to hide his blushy smile and giggles.

“Please what? You have to be specific!~”

“I think he wants you to tickle him, dude,” Ross mused, chuckling softly as Kevin whined.

“Aw, is that so, Kevin?~” Roy asked the giggly ravenette, who tried to hide his face even more.

“Just a yes or no, that’s all we want,” Ross assured him, and while it was all too flustering to ask for more, he nodded.

“You don’t have to ask me twice!” Roy announced, his hands swooping back down to Kevin’s belly, gently kneading the warm tummy, pulling bright, squeaky giggles from his trapped friend.

“Rohohohoyyy! Ehehehehehe!” he squirmed as he giggled, lightly stomping his feet and sinking in Ross’s hold.

“What’s wrong, hm? Got something to say?” Roy smirked as he teased his giddy friend, who could hardly get any redder at this point.

“T-tihihihihickles!”

“Oh I know, but you wanna know what tickles even more?~”

“Wh-whahahat?”

“This!!” And with that, Roy tugged up his friend’s pink hoodie and blew a nice, big raspberry right in the middle of Kevin’s tummy!

“NAHAHAHAROHOHOHOYSTAHAHAHAHA!!!” Kevin squealed out, unable to form a complete sentence, his giggles quickly raising into loud, fast, undeniably happy laughter.

“Woah, you REALLY like this, huh?” Roy noted before planting yet another raspberry right on Kevin’s tum.

“AHAHAHAHAGAHAHAHAHAD!!” was the only response as Kevin kept sinking in Ross’s arms, making it harder for the fellow ravenette to hold him.

“I hope you’re almost done, I don’t know how much longer I can hold him!” Ross warned the brunette, trying to keep his grip on his friend's hoodie, only further exposing his tummy and lower ribs, which gave Roy a bit of an evil idea.

“One more thing, then we’ll stop,” Roy promised, cracking his knuckles in an almost threatening manner and taking a second to admire the giggly mess before him, noting the bright red blush and tears in the corners of his eyes.

He took a deep breath, curled his hands into claws, and proceeded to blow a HUGE raspberry onto Kevin’s tummy, digging his fingers into his ribs, sending Kevin into silent hysterics and making tears of mirth fall down his cheeks. It only lasted a couple of seconds before he let up, admiring his handiwork.

Kevin’s hair was an absolute mess, his face bright red and his belly a sweet pink, similar to his hoodie. There was a thin trail along his cheeks where the tears had fallen, from eyes that were slowly opening as the giggles died down. Said eyes were bright, full of happiness, like the serotonin was still circulating full-force in his mind. And the very treasure they were after, his smile, was so wide and bright, so giddy, so happy, that for a second it was easy to forget that Kevin was typically the most nervous, easily upset one.

Ross gently let Kevin down, the poor giggly boy sinking into the soft carpet below, feeling soft pats on his back. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there before he felt something softly bump into his arm. He looked up to see Roy offering him a Capri sun, which he took gratefully as he sat up.

“You calm now? Because if you are, we’ve got some games to play,” the brunette told him, smiling as Kevin nodded as he took a sip of his drink.

“Then let’s play, boys!”

[galexis-void]

🩷💫SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL, KEEP THE GAME GOING. 🩷💫

(UNO REVERSE)

Appreciated, lol! =) thanks!

[galexis-void]

"Giddy Giggly Ghost"

A/N: This took longer than I would've liked, but I hope y'all enjoy anyways.

This fic is based off of the Spooky Month: Tragic End AU, originally by @eunchancorner. Thanks for letting me write for your AU! =)

Summary: Dexter's having one of many "lows" thanks to their current situation, but then Skid discovers a very fun way to cheer them up.

Trigger warnings: angst, mentions of death

Reminder: These stories are not built on logic. They're made to entertain, not to make sense. Also, be prepared if the characters here are out of character completely (again, the intention is not to be perfect).

All credit goes to @eunchancorner for their AU!

(fic below the cut)

     The sun had painted the sky pink and orange, but now the moon was rising and the sky was turning over to its usual ink-black void. The stars glittered like diamonds far in the distance, watching over the town with its stern focus.

     Unfortunately, the stillness of the evening did little to help Dexter’s throbbing anger.

     Their emotions had fluctuated over the last few days, ranging from them wanting to burn the house down to them wanting to curl up in a ball and cry until they disintegrated. Either way, they weren’t okay.

     How had everything gone badly in such a short time? The leader of the group they’d tried to join hadn’t just stopped at rejecting them - he had decided that just knowing about the group’s existence warranted a death sentence. That memory was still painfully clear in Dexter’s head - they’d fled to the roof of the highest building in town, an unorthodox safe space they’d used over the years, feeling particularly sorry for themselves. They’d barely heard the sound of someone coming up behind them before they were trying to stand up…

     …and subsequently experiencing a mild free-fall for about ten stories until they’d met the pavement. Thankfully, they hadn’t suffered for very long.

     The quiet creaking of the stairs snapped them out of their brief trip down memory lane. Sometimes, Dexter would forget they weren’t alone in this house. This particular house belonged to a young woman and her nightmarishly hyperactive son. Ever since Dexter’s unfortunate “accidental” fall, they’d found refuge with the boy.

     How that happened was actually pretty crazy. For the first little while, they’d been so confused about what had happened. Once the realization hit, so did the rage and vengeful feelings, but those had been briefly quelled when Dexter had stumbled across the group leader’s son.

     Or, to be more specific, the leader’s son had found them first.

     Dexter had been trying to come up with an elaborate and notably anger-fueled revenge scheme, before some kids on the street had tried to strike up conversation by telling them it was “Spooky Month”. First came the shock of realizing that the kids could see them even though they were not alive, and next thing they knew, the kids had convinced them to follow them. They had listened to the kids on a whim, and followed them to one of their houses. The pictures around said house delivered yet another hard truth to Dexter - they’d been picked up by the son of the man who had had them… taken care of.

     Some may say this was bad luck, others may say this was good fortune. For Dexter, it had been the former first, but then the latter later on. If they were going to stick to their original plan of getting revenge against the kid’s dad, then staying close to the kid may prove beneficial. You may say this is insensitive, given that the boy genuinely saw Dexter as a friend, but try to consider Dexter’s position.

     Moving on, Dexter had actually gotten a bit attached to the boy. They hardly left the house, even when the boy would. They’d always have to give some sort of excuse when the kid asked them to come with him and his friend. The kid wouldn’t really like their answer, but would accept it anyway and leave them alone. Most of this “downtime” would be spent either being angry or trying to figure out the best way to show the boy’s father exactly why screwing around with Dexter Erotoph was the worst mistake he’d ever make.

     But there was no time for anger anymore, now that the boy was home. Dexter still didn’t know the boy’s real name, if he had one. The child had referred to himself as Skid on more than one occasion, but Dexter highly doubted that was his real name... again, if he even had one. And the boy’s mother wasn’t much help either - she’d only refer to him as “son”.

     That was something else - Skid’s mother. Dexter’s saving grace was that the leader’s wife hadn’t been able to see them - she’d simply assumed that Skid was making things up when he’d told her about them. Under normal circumstances Dexter would’ve been offended, but now they felt nothing but relief. Her ignorance of their existence would make it easier to stay hidden.

     “Hi Dexter!” came the cheerful voice. “Look at all the candy I got! Do you see how much I have??”

     Dexter sighed. “That’s nice, Skid.”

     A beat of silence. “Are you okay?”

     How were they supposed to respond to that? Skid didn’t seem too bothered by the fact that his new friend was a ghost, but Dexter knew it’d break the kid’s heart if he found out how Dexter got to be that way. They’d deliberately neglected to tell him their story, and they weren’t going to start now.

     Instead, they said, “I’m not having a good day.”

     “Why?”

     “You’re too young for that conversation. Just trust me. Okay?”

     Skid folded his arms with a pouty look. “I still wanna know.”

     “Let’s just say… don’t piss off cult leaders. Okay, kid?”

     Skid huffed in childish annoyance, but didn’t question them further. “Okay.”

     Dexter returned their gaze to the endless night sky. Whenever they’d stargaze, they were always overcome by the unsettling feeling that something out there was watching them…

     “Do you want some candy? That usually helps me feel better when I’m sad.”

     Once again, Skid’s voice caught their attention. Dexter turned their head over their shoulder to see Skid holding out a piece of candy to them. The gesture was sweet, even though Dexter couldn’t actually take him up on it.

     “I’d love some, but in case you’ve forgotten, I’m dead. I can’t eat.”

     “…oh. Sorry.”

     As Dexter glanced out the window once more, they felt something pass through their shoulder. The sudden contact was accompanied by a very strong - and very familiar - sensation, which made them squeal loudly.

     Another beat of silence. Probably with a spooked look on their face, Dexter once more glanced back at Skid, who looked surprised. The boy had his hand held out, a few inches from Dexter’s shoulder.

     Had he…?

     “Did I hurt you?” Skid questioned meekly.

     “N-no, not at all! I’m fine. It just kind of ti-” Dexter quickly caught themselves before they spoke. That was close. They’d almost admitted something embarrassing to a kid they hardly knew.

     Suddenly they shrieked again, cutting themselves off with a snort. Skid had curiously poked a finger into their ribs, once again passing right through them, and bringing about that ridiculous sensation.

     Skid giggled delightedly. “You’re ticklish? I didn’t know ghosts could be ticklish!”

     It seemed that even in death, Dexter couldn’t escape being tickled. It didn’t happen often in their previous life, but when it did, it was bad. They’d shriek and squeal their hearts out, and don’t even get them started on how much they’d snort. But now, even as a ghost, they were still cursed with being deathly ticklish.

     Skid reached for their sides, and Dexter didn’t bother trying to stop him. As that tingly feeling took hold, it seemed like Dexter’s ebbing rage just miraculously melted away. There weren't any thoughts of revenge, no roller coasters of emotions - just laughter. Nothing but genuine, happy laughter.

     After a few minutes, they sank to the floor, giggling to themselves while Skid stood above them. “I’ll have to remember that for the next time you have a bad day!”

     The doorbell rang downstairs. Skid grinned. “I forgot - Pump went home to drop off his candy but he wanted to come over and play. I’ll have to tell him all about your tickle spots!”

     “W-wait!” Dexter called after him as he ran downstairs. “Don’t-”

     But Skid was already gone. What could Dexter do to stop him anyways? It wasn’t like they wanted to. It felt nice to not be bitter for once.

     Being a ghost wasn’t great, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad anymore.

-END-

[galexis-void]

I'M DOING AN EXPERIMENT

To prove something to a friend, please

REBLOG IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES

LIKE IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS DON’T BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES

[galexis-void]

PLEASE REBLOG

I’m considering coming out to my family as non-binary, and so today I brought up the subject of non-binary gendering/transgendering with my Dad as a casual conversational topic. He’s told me that if somebody is born a boy then they “should stay a fucking boy” and not trans to a girl or be a boy some days/girl other days/genderless other days.

I told him that I think gender identity should be something one can choose for themselves, and he says that nobody thinks like that and anybody who is trans/non-binary will just be shunned by every member of society they meet. He doesn’t think that people support n-b/t communities, because he doesn’t. He says to me that not staying one’s natural gender is wrong and against the point of being born a boy/girl.

Every person who reblogs this will have their URL written in a full-size writing book and when it is full I will show it to my father to illustrate to him the amount of people who believe that being non-binary is a valid gender identity.

[galexis-void]

Teach me your ways, great one

jokes aside, you did great on this!

Silly little fic inspired by an older headcanon by @eunchancorner

Simple, but was fun to write :>

"Mom! Mom mom mom!!!"

"What is it, son?" Lila spins her chair around to face Skid, his hair bouncing as he waves his arms around.

"I found videos on the Internet about palm reading! I would like to do it with you!"

"Well, sure thing!" Skid takes Lila's hand in his own.

Skid hums as he rubs his fingers against his mom's, "I think you have water hands! That means you are kind." Lila can't help but let out a little "aww" as Skid starts to trace the lines in her palms.

"I think this is the head line," Skid runs one of his fingers across a line in the middle of her hand, a fuzzy little feeling following behind. "It's really long, that means you are creative!"

"Really?" Lila bites back a giggle as her son nods his head and moves lower on her hand, his finger going across a line curved near her thumb.

"This is the life line! It means you get sleepy easily." Without waiting for a reply, he moves to the top of her palm, her hand wavering slightly as he moves across another line. "And this is the heart line! It means you are really loving!" He pauses for a moment before digging into her palm. "Oh, you have a mark here. That means–"

Lila abruptly laughs, covering her mouth with her hand in a futile attempt to muffle it.

"Mooom!" Skid pouts. "I am trying to do the cool thing! Don't laugh!"

"Sorry, sweetie, it's not your fault! I didn't think it would tickle that much."

"Your hands are ticklish?"

"ApparentLEEHEHE!" Skid skitters his fingers across his mother's palm, tongue stuck out in concentration as her loud laughter goes through the house.

"C-c'mere, you!" She scoops Skid up in one arm, using her now freed hand to keep him from getting at her again. "Now, I thought you just told me not to laugh?"

"That was different!"

She lovingly rolls her eyes. "How so?"

"I did not know you were ticklish. Now I do!" He looks up at her, a little smile on his face.

"Well, you know what I know?" She brings her hand close to his side, Skid already giggling in anticipation.

"What?"

"That little skeletons have ticklish ribs!" She digs into his side, up and down as her silly little son howls out with laughter.

[galexis-void]

Wasn’t expecting this, I’ll give it a shot-

3 ships - Ratmeat, (Bob and Dexter) Candybats, (Streber and Kevin) and Smokydonuts (John and Jack)

First ever ship - my memory sucks so I couldn’t tell you

Last song - do instrumental covers count? If yes, I was listening to a metal cover of “Event Battle” from a Paper Mario game, if it doesn’t count then I was listening to “Float On” by Modest Mouse

Last movie - I don’t remember

Currently reading - my old fic concepts that I either abandoned or couldn’t really work with

Currently watching - nothing

Currently consuming - hash browns

Currently craving - peanut butter (why, I have no idea)

Tagging - nobody who hasn’t been tagged already

9 5 People You’d Like to Get to Know Better

Tagged by my favorite server cheerleader @nostalgiamonster

3 ships- I usually self ship but normal person ships would be Aziraphale x Crowley, Catra x Adora, and Percy x Annabeth.

First ever ship- Ron x Hermione tbh. Harry Potter was the first big series I read, and I loved their chemistry when I was a kid.

Last song- Crash by Neovaii

Last movie- Spirit Halloween. It was with my family, okay?

Currently reading- Alternating between Fred, the Vampire Accountant and Super Powereds, both by Drew Hayes.

Currently watching- Season 2 of Loki and Ghost Files as they come out.

Currently consuming- Chocolate cake.

Currently craving- Tofu Fried Rice (豆腐炒饭）

Tagging- @gooberdude101 @andagainwiththemuffins @dyadiccalamity @fand0mliker @supremecourtofgaming @lucifer-just-needs-a-hug

god i have like no mutuals

[galexis-void]

"Forcing His Hand"

A/N: I have finally finished the prequel to "Something Sweeter"! Just be aware, it's very long. Hopefully after this I won't have such bad writer's block-

Summary: Bob needs a favor and calls upon an old friend, but it seems he's not too willing to help. Unluckily for this "friend", Bob knows how to force his hand.

Trigger warnings: mentions of murder, tickle torture (apparently, didn't know until someone pointed it out to me)

Reminder: These stories are not built on logic. They're made to entertain, not to make sense. Also, be prepared if the characters here are out of character completely (again, the intention is not to be perfect).

(fic below the cut)

     “Come again soon!” the cheerful host called after the children. As soon as they were safely out of sight, Streber slumped against the pillar with a sigh. While he did love his job - almost to a fault - it really did do a number on him.

     Thankfully, he’d just finished sending off the last group of kids for the night. He knew he needed to rest, but he figured a little tweaking on this week’s project couldn’t hurt. He could never be too careful, right?

     With a dramatic swish of the cape, he retreated indoors, intending to change clothes before retrieving his mirror. He could already imagine how comfortable his pajamas would feel. That was one of the smaller pleasures of doing the haunted house every year - looking forward to getting out of that stiff, unbearably heavy vampire set.

     He slipped behind the curtain he’d set up in his room and quickly changed. Even though he shared the house with people he’d trust with his life, he wasn’t quite comfortable with being even semi-uncovered around them.

     He took a seat at his desk and set to work, and he slipped into his usual work routine so effortlessly. He almost didn’t want to retrieve the mirror he’d left outside. It could probably wait… no, he’d already sworn himself to it… what was the harm in leaving it until tomorrow… no, it was supposed to rain tonight. While Streber didn’t like the idea of abandoning his current project, he hated the idea of three months worth of work being ruined by the weather even more. With an exaggerated sigh, he hesitantly rose from his chair and trudged toward the door.

     He glanced out over the deck and observed that it was already starting to drizzle - though thankfully, the wind was blowing it away from the porch. He guessed he had about ten minutes before the rain changed direction. He started by disconnecting the cables, making sure nothing was damaged. He was sure he’d look back at the footage from the camera and curse himself for something else he could’ve touched up on, but that was for another day. All he was focused on was getting the task done so he could get back to work. At least the pajamas made the work bearable.

     After a solid eight minutes of work, he had everything set up and just had to carry the mirror frame inside. This was the part of the job he didn’t like very much, but again, it was his own fault - he was the one who had to make everything into some huge extravagant ordeal.

     But eventually, he got through it, and he retreated to his corner to resume his work. The idea of synthetic limbs had always interested him, even before the… incident. Now he had an excuse to chase his fascination - or his “obsession” as his friends referred to it. It wasn’t - they just didn’t understand how truly in depth he would consider such things. It was an entire functioning limb that you could simply attach to your person, and these days it was fairly common - back in the day, who would’ve thought that humanity would advance so far?

     He was so wrapped up in his work that he hadn’t noticed the creaking down the hall. He paused, listening intently. Did they have rats? No, that couldn’t be… his friends weren’t such neat freaks like he was, but even they wouldn’t allow vermin in the house.

     And yet… there it was again.

     Against his better judgement, Streber set down his tools and carefully rose from his workstation. He picked up a flashlight and crept to the door, not wanting to wake anybody in the other rooms. He shone the light down the hall, laser-focused on wherever the light illuminated, eyes peeled for whatever was causing a disturbance in the force.

     He saw nothing.

     He huffed in annoyance. The last thing he needed was a distraction. “Stupid rats,” he grumbled to himself, before returning to his workstation. He’d just have to bear it, unfortunately. He didn’t do well with distractions. He figured he’d just go about the night with no physical distraction.

     Blocking out all external elements actually helped tremendously, and the prototype was finished within the hour. With a huge grin, he got to work affixing the new prosthetic to his arm - or lack thereof, he should say. He’d finished his work, and with nothing to indicate that he should’ve been paying attention to anything else.

     So you can imagine his fright when he felt someone grab his shoulder. “Who’re ya callin’ a rat?”

     It wasn’t just the fact that there was someone in his room so late at night that made this situation scary - the scariest part was that Streber knew who that someone was. His voice alone was enough to make Streber’s heart stop. He froze immediately after registering the person’s voice, and in that agonizingly slow way you see someone turn around in a horror movie, he glanced over his shoulder…

     …and the question he’d asked himself mentally was answered, as he stared directly into the cold, unfeeling eyes of Bob Velseb.

     The murderer tilted his head in an almost innocent way, still wearing that mile-wide grin like he had on the night of the incident. Just seeing his face made Streber want to crawl into a hole and die of fear. He couldn’t even utter a word because his throat had clenched up.

     “Did ya miss me?” the serial killer questioned. “Looks like I took your breath away. Oops~”

     His casual tone only had Streber more on edge. What fresh hell was this? Why, of all the people Streber hated that he had to face, why him?!

     Only now did he notice the door was closed, and barred with a chair. Damn it. He was dead meat. There was no way he was getting out of this alive. Clearly the murderous freak hadn’t satiated his appetite and had come back for a second helping.

     “I’m not giving you my arm!” Streber finally managed to force out, sounding much more pathetic than he’d intended. What was his plan? Obviously he wasn’t a match for his assailant - not only did Bob have the height advantage, but he was a seasoned killer.

     Bob’s laugh sent chills down his spine. “Ya act like I need your permission. But lucky you, that ain’t why I’m here. Actually, I need a favor. I already have a backup method in mind, though if ya force my hand…”

     Bob didn’t need to finish the sentence for Streber to understand his intentions. But even so, that didn’t stop him from practically snarling his next words. “Why the hell would I help the freak who ripped my arm off and ate it in front of me?!”

     The killer was entirely unfazed by his anger, and only continued smiling. “I’ll tell ya why. Because even if ya say no to me, I have a way of… convincin’ ya, to put it one way. I would’ve said you’ve suffered enough, but given how you’re talkin’ to me, I think I changed my mind.”

     He was totally screwed now.

     “Now, I’ll give ya one last chance. And this is me being extremely generous. You can hear me out, or I can force your hand and make ya hear me out. So tell me, Streber…” he drawled, having closed what little distance there was, and forcing Streber to stand from his chair.

     “…won’t ya help an old friend?”

     This man was psychotic. There really was no other way to say it. Was there some kind of disconnect in his logic? Did he think threatening a former victim would work? It kind of did, but that was besides the point.

     “I’d rather die!” Streber shouted at him, internally cringing as he remembered who he was saying that to. Bob would probably be more than happy to help him with that.

     “I’m sure ya would, but unfortunately for you, that’d be too simple. I need ya alive. And if you’re gonna be like that, I’m afraid ya leave me no alternative.”

     Okay, maybe not.

     Streber remained wary of the knife in the killer’s hand, which he subconsciously knew had been there the whole time. What would Bob take this time? A leg? An organ? His head, perhaps? He’d said that killing him would be “too simple”, but Streber felt like he should know better than to trust the word of a monster.

     And something else that had evaded Streber until now was the fact that Bob still hadn’t let go of his shoulder.

     In a flash of movement, Bob had slammed him onto the floor, shoving him onto his back hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Streber didn’t even have time to process what happened until he was already on the floor, and entirely out of breath. He tried to stand up, but his assailant kept him pinned by holding a single hand on his chest. How could someone so bulky be so strong?!

     Bob glanced at his knife, before tucking it away somewhere under his sweater. “Don’t worry about that. I won’t be needin’ it this time.”

     Good god… what could he possibly have planned that didn’t involve a weapon? Was he going to use his bare hands?! Somehow that was scarier than him using a weapon - at least Streber was used to that!

     His train of thought - and subsequently, his fear - was quickly derailed by the embarrassingly high-pitched shriek that had just come out of him. What the hell? He was still on the ground… Bob was hovering over him…

     …and the killer’s hands had viciously grabbed his sides.

     He tried to ask what was going on, but his voice was swallowed by another squeak as Bob dug his claws in again. “WAHAHAHAIT WHAHAHA-?!”

     “I already told ya,” the serial killer chuckled. “I have a way of convincin’ ya to hear me out.”

     “GAAAAH! I’M SOHOHOHORYHYHY! I TAKE IT BAHAHAHACK!”

     “Little too late for that, I’m afraid. Ya made your choice. So just relax, and try not to scream too much. Your friends are sleepin’, after all.”

     During this little snippet of dialogue, Bob’s hands were climbing higher to the incapacitated vampire’s ribs. His loud laughs quickly escalated into squeals, but thankfully nobody came running to check on him. Bob wasn’t sure what he’d do if he got caught. He had an agenda, after all - he was just here to get what he needed and leave.

     “Now listen,” he said, his tone only a tiny bit more serious than before. “Ya chose the hard route, but I still need somethin’ from ya. And if ya say no, ya already know what I’m gonna do.”

     “JUHUHUST SHUT UP AND TELL MEHEHEHE WHAT YOU WAHAHAHAHANT!”

     Bob raised an eyebrow, jabbing one of his claws into one of Streber’s underarms. “Keep runnin’ your mouth and I may not stop at just ticklin’ ya.”

     “I MEHEHEAN- HOW CAN I HEHEHEHELP YOUHOHOU?”

     “Better. Now, I need ya to make somethin’ for me. Well, me and a friend, specifically. Ya see what I’m doin’ with my claws right here?” He waved one set of digits over Streber’s flushed face, and wiggled the others into his ribs.

     “OBVIOUSLEHEHEHE! YOU’RE KILLING M- I MEAN, YEHEHES!”

     “I need ya to make a sort of tool that’ll give me a way to tickle someone multiple ways all at once. Like I could be using feathers on them one minute, but the next I could zap them. Ya know, like when ya ‘tase’ someone with your fingers?”

     Streber did know - he’d been the victim of getting ‘tased’ more times than he cared to admit. Did he really want to hand over that sort of power to someone like Bob, though? He was bad enough without this tool that didn’t exist yet. “WHY WOULD YOU WANT THAHAHAT?”

     Bob sighed. “If ya want the truth, killin’ people just ain’t cuttin’ it anymore. It’s all the same tired horror script now. But this-” he scribbled at Streber’s neck, “-this is much better.”

     Streber supposed that made sense, and a small part of him was relieved that Bob had opted not to kill him. But most of him was losing his mind from being tickled like this. “FIHIHINE! I’LL DO IHIHIHIT! JUST PLEHEHEASE, STAHAHAP!”

     To his great relief, Bob released him immediately. “I could go on for hours, but ya can’t exactly build me a tool if you’re on the floor, hmm?”

     Streber managed to pull himself to his feet using his chair, gasping for air. “At least… *huff* you have some sense…”

     “Did ya miss the part where I said I can keep ticklin’ ya for hours?”

     Streber really needed to stop insulting him…

     A few hours had passed, but Streber had definitely made progress. The tool resembled a long black tube, with different colored buttons laid out in a line. So far the features involved a feather duster, a ‘tase’ tool, a paintbrush, and a special device that could imitate raspberries by vibrating. He’d customized the tool to Bob’s exact specifications, which seemed to change every fifteen minutes. Every time Streber finished adding one feature, Bob would immediately think of a new one and demand he add it.

     While Bob had been hovering over his shoulder, watching him work and suggesting new features every little while, Streber had also had the misfortune of meeting his “friend” - a sentient Happy Fella doll with the same sadistic tendencies as Bob.

     Unfortunately, they also shared the serial killer’s newfound obsession with tickling, evidenced by their first meeting when Streber had dared to make fun of their eyes. That was a mistake Streber wouldn’t make again… if anything, the doll was even more intense than Bob had been.

     “It’s done!” Streber announced, holding out the tool to Bob. “Sleek and simple, but with all the features you requested.”

     Bob examined the tool carefully, turning it over in his hands. He seemed enamored by it, as if completely taken by the fact that someone actually listened to his crazy idea and made it happen.

     “Doesn’t look like much,” the doll noted.

     Streber bit back a retort. “That’s the point. It’s meant to look simple. Makes it easier to hide, and easier to transport.”

     The doll couldn’t argue with that. Bob’s grin was bright enough to light up the whole room. “It’s perfect. This is exactly what I wanted!”

     “If you like it, then I guess I’m fine with it. But hold on… are we sure that he didn’t swindle us?”

     Streber’s heart sank. What now?

     Bob regarded his companion curiously. “What do ya mean?”

     “You saw him build it, but we don’t know if it actually works, do we?”

     Realization dawned in Bob’s eyes, and his grin stretched even wider - how that was possible, Streber couldn’t say. “You’re right, Dexter… we don’t know if this thing actually works. But luckily for us, we have someone to test it on!”

     Yeah, Streber wasn’t getting out of this one either.

-END-