#scary stories to tell in the dark tickles

[cringemesstickles]

Backfired

(TickleTober Day 30: Caught)

Summary: Instead of Chuck seeing an old lady and a dog, he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Pairing: Implied none

Word Count: 753

A/N: I just watched the movie again and now they’re in my head, so I had a last minute change of plan for todays prompt. Enjoy!

———————————————————

Auggie prowled through the halls of the Bellows mansion, searching for his mischievous friend who was undoubtedly hiding and waiting to scare him.

Moments prior, Chuck had snuck up behind him and gave him a friendly little jumpscare before scurrying up the stairs with a childish giggle.

"Bet you can't catch me!!" He had called out in a playful voice, Disappearing from Auggie’s view.

"Chuck, if you jump out at me, I'm going to punch you in the throat."

Meanwhile, Chuck ran into one of the many rooms in search of a hiding spot.

"Chuck? You're not gonna scare me.

Upon hearing his friends voice, he jumped into a nearby wardrobe and tried to stifle his giggles.

He tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach, finding it increasingly harder to stay quiet while his friend called his name.

The blonde walked into one of the rooms and scanned his surroundings, only to find no sign of the shorter boy.

Just as he was about to walk away and search elsewhere, he heard a stifled giggle coming from an old wardrobe in the corner of the room.

Typical…

Rolling his eyes, he pretended to walk away, only to sneak back into the room and tip toe up to the beat up furniture.

Chuck felt his heart beating with anticipation, ready to frighten his uptight friend. But before he could burst through the wardrobe doors, Auggie beat him to the punch, flinging them open and grabbing him, causing him to emit a shriek of surprise.

“HA!” Cried Auggie, wrestling the other to the floor with ease. “Told you you weren’t gonna scare me.”

The dark haired boy froze for a second, not exactly expecting to be the victim of the scaring, or to be pinned down, for that matter.

When he snapped out of it, he smiled nervously and squirmed a bit, not quite liking the look in his friend’s eyes.

“Alright, you got me… now let me go.”

Auggie smiled mischievously, something that didn’t happen very often.

“Actually, no, Chuck, I don’t think I will… I’ve !been dealing with your games all night and I think I deserve some payback.”

Any questions that Chuck was about to ask were cut off by a sharp squeal, his friend’s fingers darting to his ribcage and wiggling with vigor.

“EEHE- AUGGIE, WHAT ARE YOU- HAHA!” He began to squirm and cackle, aimlessly grabbing at the taller boy’s swift hands.

The blonde smirked with satisfaction, thoroughly enjoying putting the trouble maker in his place.

“Well, Chuck, how’s it feel being on the receiving end of the joke?” He asked smugly, letting his nimble fingers spider across the boy’s tummy, delighting in the bubbly laughter it elicited.

“NOT BAHAHAD! HOW’S IT F-FEEL BEING A BIG DOHOHORK?!” Snarked the dark haired boy, his smile as playful as ever.

No thought in Auggie’s mind was telling him that Chuck wasn’t enjoying this; the boy just made it too obvious.

“Bold words for someone who’s completely at my mercy.”

“BITE ME, CLOWN- EEK- NONONO, NOT THAHAHAT!”

A high pitched squeal filled the room when Auggie switched his technique from spidering to digging, letting his fingers dig into the soft skin with precision.

“What? This? Can’t handle a little tickling? That’s real unfortunate, man… especially considering I’m not gonna stop until you promise not to mess with me for the rest of the night.” Teased the taller boy. Even in the dark, he was beginning to see a tint of red form on his friend’s cheeks, his usual bravado replaced by uncontrollable laughter.

“NOT A CHAHA- GAH- OKAY, OKAHAHAY, I PROMISE!”

Auggie had to laugh at how quickly Chuck changed his mind when he dipped a finger into the boy’s bellybutton.

True to his word, Auggie stopped his vengeful ministrations and let his friend up, holding out a hand for him to take.

Chuck took the hand he was offered, clumsily standing to his feet, gasping for breath as dramatically as he could.

“Tickling is sohoho not fair, man…” He whined, trying to form a playful pout, but unable to, due to the tickle induced smile that was glued to his face.

Auggie shrugged.

“Drastic times call for drastic measures. Now let’s go find the others and get out. It’s just plain creepy in here…”

“Who ordered the- AH- OKAY OKAY, I’M DOHOHONE!” Chuck giggled frantically, choosing not to finish his remark.

Chuck learned a very important lesson that night: Never push a clown over the edge.

Or do, because it’s fun.

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers' as fathers with a child/reader. (Comfort drabbles for anyone like me who has daddy issues).

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.

I'm a little embarrassed that I made this but I can't deny that it does comfort me and make me feel better. If it makes you happy as well, then I'm glad. Thank you for reading. I hope you have a nice day.

...

Freddy

He was sleeping in his bed when he felt something nudge his arm, the soft callings of your voice quickly rousing him from his slumber. "Daddy? Daddy, please wake up."

Paternal instincts demanding that he instantly wake to check and see if you were okay, Freddy sat up and opened his eyes. Immediately the sight of you standing beside the bed in your pajamas with a sad, frightened look on your face greeted him, and he reached out to gently brush a hand through your messy hair.

"What's the matter, sweetie? Is everything okay?" He asked, gazing around for potential danger.

You whimpered, your little hands anxiously fiddling together as you say sadly, "I... I had a nightmare and I... I got scared."

Relaxing a bit, Freddy sat up all the way in bed and lifted his arms out towards you, "Oh sweetie, come here."

Stepping forward and lifting your arms, you whimper whenever your dad pulled you sideways onto his lap and held you close. He kissed the top of your head and gently patted your back. "Thought I told you not to be having those?" He mumbled.

"I know, but... It was so scary and I-I didn't like it," You whined, burying yourself into the divine safety of his chest, his scent familiar and comforting.

"Shh, shh," Freddy rubbed soothing circles against your back while hugging you securely against him, always prepared to fight all of your demons away- even if your demons were as simple as nightmares. "It's okay, sweetie. You're alright. Daddy's got ya. Everything's gonna be okay."

"Ok..." You whisper, still snuggled against him. He was so comforting and safe. "Daddy? I'm thirsty. Will you get me some juice, please?"

"You want juice?" Freddy tickled your nose causing you to giggle, "Hm?"

"And a story?" You smile at him hopefully.

"And a story? Well, aren't you spoiled," Freddy smiled back and leaned down to nuzzle your forehead, "Sure, sweetie, let's get you some juice."

Grinning at his compliance, you lean forward and give him a big hug. He hugs you back, and it feels so nice and comforting that you feel as if you could go to sleep right then and there.

Freddy holds your hand as he takes you to the kitchen to get you some juice. Then he grabs a book from a shelf and sits down in his arm chair with you sitting in his lap with your blanket and juice in clutch. He reads to you the short story as many times as you want until you've finished your beverage and declared that you were tired again.

"Can I sleep with you, daddy? Please," You ask, fidgeting in the hopes that you wouldn't have to sleep in the dark alone by yourself again tonight.

Freddy doesn't have the heart to tell you "no", so he nods and ruffles your hair, "As long as you promise not to have anymore nightmares. Promise?"

"I promise, daddy," You say happily, crawling into bed with him and immediately going to snuggle into his chest, "I love you."

Freddy kisses your head and tucks you both in with a blanket, one arm wrapping around you to hold you against him. Warm, safe, and comfortable. "Love you too, sweetie. Now get some sleep and, this time, have 'good' dreams."

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

"Hey Les, you seen (y/n) around?" Bo asked as he approached Lester's truck.

Lester gave him a look that he came to dread. "Yeah, they're on back with Vincent. Why?"

Relieved by your assured safety, Bo placed his hands on his hips and stared hard at the ground. Guilt chewed on him like a hungry wolf, and shame became a permanent dark cloud hanging all around him. "I-I messed up, Les," He admitted, shaking his head.

Lester raised his eyebrows in suspicion, "What'a ya mean?"

"Yesterday, I... I messed up," Bo huffed, dragging a rough hand through his hair, "An' now they ain't talkin' to me, and I... I just... Uh."

"Oh, so that's why the little critter wanted to spend the night," Lester chuckled and petted his dog's head fondly, "An' here I was hopin' I was the new favorite uncle. Guess I ain't, huh?"

Bo ignored him as he thought about what happened yesterday. He had been angry for reasons unrelated to you, and when you had tried to get his attention he snapped and yelled at you. Even though "what" was all he yelled, he could still tell how much he scared you and hurt your feelings. Now you wouldn't go around him. Gosh, he didn't mean to do it, he just... He was just an idiot.

Lester frowned at him as if noticing his distress, "Well hell, if it's botherin' ya to the pits then why don't ya go talk to them? You are their daddy after all, ain't ya?"

Yes. Yes he was your dad. And no child should ever have to be afraid of their dad.

Making his ultimate decision, Bo adjusted his hat and began stomping away, "Gotta go."

He found you in the house eating snacks with Vincent. When you noticed he was there, you looked at him and then quickly bowed your head like... like you were afraid of him. And it broke Bo's heart. Good grief, what had he done?

Pulsing with regret, guilt and shame, Bo slowly approached you and knelt down beside your chair, "Hey there, little critter bug. What'cha eating?"

You were hesitant, keeping your face averted as you timidly mumble, "Grapes."

"Ooh, yummy, can I have some?" He lifted his hands out, uncertain of where and when he should start explaining himself.

Sadness and uncertainty decorated your face as you lifted out the bowl to him. Vincent seemed to understand what his brother was doing, and he stood up to leave and give you some privacy.

As he ate some grapes, Bo was surprised to hear you quietly ask, "Daddy... Are... Are you still mad at me?"

"Oh..." He straightened his posture, set the bowl aside and reached out to gently grasp your shoulder, "Oh, (y/n), I was never mad at ya, I just... I was just havin' a bad day and I..."

Bo sighed, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently in reassurance, "Look, critter bug, I didn't mean to yell at ya, and I definitely ain't mad at ya. I just... Daddy made a mistake, and I'm so, so sorry, (y/n). I promise... I'll never yell at you again. I promise."

Your eyes glistened as you looked at him as if in debate. Bo's throat was dry as he waited for your reaction, the negativity and guilt nearly driving him insane.

Instead of saying anything, you spread your arms and lift them upwards. Bo sighed quietly in relief and went to scoop you into his arms, his aching chest slowly beginning to calm down. He still felt guilty for how he made you feel, and he wasn't lying when he promised that he would never ever make you feel that way again.

Michael + Aunt Laurie

You were both trick-or-treating and having a good evening on Halloween. Michael alternated between carrying you on his back, on his hip, or simply holding your hand while walking. It warmed his heart to see how happy and excited you were, your candy-bag becoming overloaded with sweet treats.

He decided to stop at Lauries for a quick break and some refreshment. You ran back out while he was still inside. It only felt like a minute before he followed your footsteps and soon came to a scene that made his blood boil and his eyes widen.

You were laying on your back against the sidewalk, small, frightened cries spilling from your lips. In the direction you were staring, Michael caught a glimpse of a group of teenagers quickly running away. They must have done something to you. But what?

"D-daddy," You cried as he quickly walked over to you, and you skittered to get to your feet.

Michael barely got to check you over for damage before you were wrapping your arms around his waist and crying into his belly. "They pushed me and stole my candy," You whined loudly against him, "I-I just wanted to be friends, b-b-but they stole my candy. Ehh, daddy, daddy, what do I do? They stole my candy."

Anger invaded every nerve within Michael's body as he held you close protectively. How dare anyone treat you this way. How could they? You were the nicest, sweetest little angel. What was their problem? Michael's eyes burned with the memory of those teenage scum and the direction they fled.

Hearing your loud sniffles, Michael gently coaxed you back and knelt down. Slipping off his mask, he reached out, cupped your cheek and used his jumpsuit sleeve to wipe away your tears and snot. Then he used sign-language to ask if you were okay.

You nodded and cried in great sadness, "But they stole my candy. Wh-why did they do that, daddy? I-I just wanted to be friends."

Michael quickly explained to you how those teenagers were obviously bullies. This same experience happened to him too when he was your age. Everything was going to be alright. They would get you more candy. Calm down. Everything was going to be alright.

Slowly you began to calm down, your sobs and whines diminishing. Michael pulled you into his arms and hauled you against his hip so that he could take you into the house. You stayed attached to him the whole time, and he refused to let you go. Frustration still burned inside him, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to protect and comfort you/his child.

Laurie was there to save the day, thankfully, offering you all of the candy she hadn't yet given out and putting on a fun movie for you to watch.

You were snuggled up against your dad on the couch, your mood significantly eased as he rubbed your head and back and offered you pieces of candy. For the most part you forgot about the incident, but Michael certainly hadn't.

Let's just say that, by tomorrow, you would have your stolen candy back.

Hannibal

He had taken a leave of absence from work so that he could better take care of you while you were sick. It wasn't anything serious; just a small cold. The nurse from your school had sent you home earlier due to a sore throat and a fever. Hannibal had rushed to get you as quickly as he could.

Once he got you home, he had you take a bath and get dressed into your pajamas. You complained of throat and stomach pain, and you had irritated sinuses. He gave you some medication and told you to lie down while he made you some special soup that would soothe your tummy.

As he was cooking, he heard your tiny footsteps echoing from the hallway, and he turned to see your sleepy figure approaching, "Daddy?"

"Yes, my child, what is it?" He asked, setting his cutting knife aside.

"My tummy hurts so bad," You pouted, your voice beginning to sound scratchy, "And I don't feel good. I wanna be with you."

Hannibal grabbed a kleenex from the counter and knelt down to gently clean your messy nose, "I know. And that is precisely why you should be sleeping."

"But I can't sleep," You whimper, looking at him with sad, tired owl eyes, "I wanna be with you. Please, daddy? Let me stay with you."

Hannibal tilted his head at you, his brows lifting in debate. While he would rather you be getting some decent rest, he knew that you were young and still filled with energy even whilst you were sick. He didn't have much left to do cooking wise either, so he figured that having you stay around wouldn't harm anything.

"Alright then," Hannibal leaned forward and picked you up, swiftly positioning you on his hip and supporting you with one arm so that he could use the other to cook with.

You held onto his neck while resting your head against his shoulder, your eyes mostly shut as you listened to the sound of his heart beat. Safety and warmth enveloped you making you feel much, much better than what you had before. Your dad was always so cozy and comforting.

Hannibal was able to finish cooking dinner with you on his hip the entire time. Once it was time to eat, he set you down on a chair and made you a drink and a bowl of soup. You ate quietly which worried him a little, but he knew it was just because you weren't feeling good.

"Feeling better?" He asked when you were finished.

You smiled and nodded at him, "Mhm, it was real yummy. Thank you, daddy."

"You're welcome, my child," He reached out and gently squeezed your cheek before taking your bowl and cleaning it, "I don't suppose telling you to get back in bed will do any good, will it?"

Your pitiful whimper was enough of an answer. Hannibal chuckled, dried his hands and went to pick you up again, holding you close as he carried you to the living room. "A movie it is then."

"Can Will come over?" You asked, grinning.

Hannibal gave you a look, "I'm beginning to believe that you're not sick at all."

...

All good fathers' should fight their child's nightmares away, not be the reason why they have them.

[caeunot]

johnnie guilbert x reader

you find out your bf is a vampire🧛‍♂️ 18+

you were utterly infatuated with your boyfriend, everything about him gave a burning feeling inside of you in a way you can't explain. the way his cold skin felt against yours, the way his pale blue eyes sunk deep into your soul when you two make eye contact, the way he gently bites you every time you two are intimate.

you know for a fact that the feelings are mutual, even by the way the two of you act in public. he always has his hands on you somehow, whether it's putting them in your butt pocket of your dark black jeans or when he squeezes your thigh secretly under a table. but the biggest reason you know he's yours takes place when it's just the two of you, it's after a long day of spending time without him, maybe you spent time with friends all day or just worked, the reason didn't matter because all that matters is that he wasn't there. he stalks you as if your prey, watching you from afar, once he finds a perfect moment getting you alone he immediately goes all in, pushing you against the nearest wall while desperately trying to remove your clothes even if it meant ripping it in two. he was starved and you were the meal, he was dehydrated and you were water.

the nights lately were warm, you could feel summer coming around and it made you tense. you craved the sun but you knew you would miss the crisp air of december. you spent nights laying awake on your shared bed with johnnie, just in your bra and underwear. one thing about summer that you enjoyed was the fact you could wear such little clothes and almost always get away with it.

you knew it turned johnnie on and you claim that's not the reason why you do it, when it definitely is. the feeling of his fingers playing with the hem of your panties when you both were supposed to be asleep, once again you pretend to not notice and fake your breaths when you feel his fingers slip inside of you early hours of the morning. you couldn't let it show you were aware of what he does, you can't give him the satisfaction.

you often wondered how he could stay up so late into the night, not that you minded or that it bothered you but more that you were worried for his sake, sleep is extremely important for a person's health and you knew that very well.

"hey johnnie, can I ask you something?" you say after feeling him nuzzle into your shoulder once again in early hours of the morning. "why are you always awake this time of night" you turned around to face him. "you wana know why?" he says with an eerie tone. "more than anything" you say sitting up slightly, you tried to make eye contact with him but it was even too dark to tell where was his eyes and where was his mouth. "it's because.... I'm a vampire!!!" he says pouncing on top of you and tickling you till you have tears down your cheeks. "fuck you johnnie" you say with a smile as you wipe your face.

"okay be honest with me, lately I just can't help but wonder if you even get any sleep". you sat up and crossed your legs. "of course I sleep baby, don't worry" he says tucking a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. you give him a soft kiss and muttered 'okay' before going back to sleep.

you were in your room but everything was dark, you looked around into the ever growing black before spotting two dark red eyes glowing in the distance. you knew from story tales the one thing not to do is to follow the scary glowing eyes, but you felt a strong comfort when you looked straight into them. you stood up and slowly started staggering towards the red eyes, you felt a small sense of dread but not enough to stop you. the closer you went the more intense the eyes became, and the more you felt you couldn't look away, as if it were the only thing you ever needed.

you reached the eyes, underneath it a pair of sharp white teeth arose. it wasn't connected by any meaning to the floating eyes, but with both it could semi resemble a face. all of a sudden felt trapped and as if you couldn't move as if you were in sleep paralysis, no matter how much you told your body to move you stayed still until the teeth became bigger and bigger and swallowed you whole with nothing you could do about it.

you woke up soaked in sweat and hyperventilating, you have never had such a vivid nightmare. you winced as the bright light from outside shone directly into your eyes. the whole day felt like a blurr, almost on the verge of dissociation. johnnie was out the whole day filming something so you spent the day rotting away in the house. well maybe not rotting but you had nothing to do and you were definitely feeling his absence.

he came home around 6pm and he looked exhausted, you noticed the eyebags he usually drew on actually turned real and that his pale skin looked even paler, almost sickly. you joked around and said it's because he has been too busy with 'other things' than sleeping (meaning you). but instead of spitting something back, he just gave a weak smile and gave a flat "yea". being confused, you trailed behind him as he went into your bedroom.

"baby if there's anything I can do please let me know okay? you don't look well" you said putting your hand in his but he immediately shook it off. "I just need to be alone" he spat back in an irritated tone. you didn't want to leave him since he's never been this way before.

you slowly walked closer to him and gently put your arms around his waist and kiss the back of his neck and you felt him melt underneath you. he takes your hand in his and turns around. "please y/n, please go out for a bit" he says desperately. "I will once you tell me what's wrong". you cup his face in your and plant a small kiss on his dry lips. you then gave him another hug, this time resting your forehead on his shoulder.

'fuck' was the last thing you heard from johnnie before you felt something sharp sink into your neck. you scream and look to your right, you see your boyfriends mouth sunk deep into your skin. he looks different, as if his soul had gone back into him. you immediately try and pull him off of you but it was no use, all you could do was sit in horror as he used your neck like a straw. what felt like eternity later, johnnie pulled his teeth out and the moment he looked at your horrified face his expression changed, as if only realizing now what he has done.

in this exact moment you noticed the colour of his eyes was the same deep red of the blood dripping down his lips, and his teeth as razor sharp as knives. you were speechless.

instead of responding he fell to his knees and grabbed his head with his hands, sobbing on the ground. for some reason you pity the monster that left a gaping hole in you flesh. you slowly bend down and lift his chin up, getting some of your own blood on your hands. "look at me" you say as he hits your hand off once again.

"how can i fucking look at you after what i just did, i'm disgusting and i'm a monster and i should have never let you be with me in the first place" you sigh, "tell me everything, once you have we can decide what happens to us" he nods, still not looking into your eyes.

he explains himself that he is in fact a vampire, and how he was turned back when he was around 24, he was going through a rough mental stage and he resulted into using using harmful coping mechanisms as in drinking and smoking and ended up meeting a guy at a party who claimed he knew a way to help deal with the issues and help take his mind off of everything, the substances included.

now he is left with the consequences, not all was negative as he said he had some cool abilities as being able to control some minds and the ability to move at faster speeds but, none of this makes up for the fact that the only thing keeping you alive is the blood of others.

"if I haven't fed in awhile I get sickly and irritable, and I tend to feed on whatever is closest and those actions are always beyond my control.. like tonight" he finally looks back up at you, you feel yourself being sympathetic once again.

"I don't mind you using me for blood, not always of course but if your desperate I will always be here for you" he finally stands up and gives you a tight hug, "I don't deserve you" he whispers, still holding on.

he gets out the first-aid kit and starts disinfecting your wounds before putting plaster all over it. "how do you feel?" he says, admiring his handy work. "would it be bad if I asked you to do what you did on the other side too?" r you said pointing to your open neck, he rolls his eyes and pulls you in softly, "next time will be a lot more different baby, I promise"

❣

[dailyadventureprompts]

Tableskills: Creating Dread

I've often had a lot of problems telling scary stories at my table, whether it be in d&d or other horror focused games. I personally don't get scared easily, especially around "traditionally horrifying" things so it's hard for me to recreate that experience in others. Likewise, you can't just port horror movie iconography into tabletop and expect it to evoke genuine fear: I've already spoken of being bored out of my mind during the zombie apocalypse, and my few trips into ravenloft have all been filled with similar levels of limp and derivative grimdark.

It took me a long time (and a lot of video essays about films I'd never watched) to realize that in terms of an experience fear is a lot like a joke, in that it requires multiple steps of setup and payoff. Dread is that setup, it's the rising tension in a scene that makes the revelation worth it, the slow and literal rising of a rollercoaster before the drop. It's way easier to inspire dread in your party than it is to scare them apropos of nothing, which has the added flexibility of letting you choose just the right time to deliver the frights.

TLDR: You start with one of the basic human fears (guide to that below) to emotionally prime your players and introduce it to your party in a initially non-threataning manor. Then you introduce a more severe version of it in a way that has stakes but is not overwhelmingly scary just yet. You wait until they're neck deep in this second scenario before throwing in some kind of twist that forces them to confront their discomfort head on.

More advice (and spoilers for The Magnus Archives) below the cut.

Before we go any farther it's vitally important that you learn your party's limits and triggers before a game begins. A lot of ttrpg content can be downright horrifying without even trying to be, so it's critical you know how everyone in your party is going to react to something before you go into it. Whether or not you're running an actual horror game or just wanting to add some tension to an otherwise heroic romp, you and your group need to be on the same page about this, and discuss safety systems from session 0 onwards.

The Fundamental Fears: It may seem a bit basic but one of the greatest tools to help me understand different aspects of horror was the taxonomy invented by Jonathan Sims of The Magnus Archives podcast. He breaks down fear into different thematic and emotional through lines, each given a snappy name and iconography that's so memorable that I often joke it's the queer-horror version of pokemon types or hogwarts houses. If we start with a basic understanding of WHY people find things scary we learn just what dials we need turn in order to build dread in our players.

Implementation: Each of these examples is like a colour we can paint a scene or encounter with, flavouring it just so to tickle a particular, primal part of our party's brains. You don't have to do much, just something along the lines of "the upcoming cave tunnel is getting a little too close for comfort" or "the all-too thin walkway creaks under your weight ", or "what you don't see is the movement at the edge of the room". Once the seed is planted your party's' minds will do most of the work: humans are social, pattern seeking creatures, and the hint of danger to one member of the group will lay the groundwork of fear in all the rest.

The trick here is not to over commit, which is the mistake most ttrpgs make with horror: actually showing the monster, putting the party into a dangerous situation, that’s the finisher, the  punchline of the joke. It’s also a release valve on all the pressure you’ve been hard at work building.

There’s nothing all that scary about fighting a level-appropriate number of skeletons, but forcing your party to creep through a series of dark, cobweb infested catacombs with the THREAT of being attacked by undead? That’s going to have them climbing the walls.

Let narration and bad dice rolls be your main tools here, driving home the discomfort, the risk, the looming threat.

Surprise: Now that you’ve got your party marinating in dread, what you want to do to really scare them is to throw a curve ball. Go back to that list and find another fear which either compliments or contrasts the original one you set up, and have it lurking juuuust out of reach ready to pop up at a moment of perfect tension like a jack in the box. The party is climbing down a slick interior of an underdark cavern, bottom nowhere in sight? They expect to to fall, but what they couldn't possibly expect is for a giant arm to reach out of the darkness and pull one of them down. Have the party figured out that there's a shapeshifter that's infiltrated the rebel meeting and is killing their allies? They suspect suspicion and lies but what they don't expect is for the rebel base to suddenly be on FIRE forcing them to run.

My expert advice is to lightly tease this second threat LONG before you introduce the initial scare. Your players will think you're a genius for doing what amounts to a little extra work, and curse themselves for not paying more attention.

Restraint: Less is more when it comes to scares, as if you do this trick too often your players are going to be inured to it. Try to do it maybe once an adventure, or dungeon level. Scares hit so much harder when the party isn't expecting them. If you're specifically playing in a "horror" game, it's a good idea to introduce a few false scares, or make multiple encounters part of the same bait and switch scare tactic: If we're going into the filthy gross sewer with mould and rot and rats and the like, you'll get more punch if the final challenge isn't corruption based, but is instead some new threat that we could have never prepared for.

Art

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

You're killin' me!

Quick summary: Phantom and Maverick have had their fair share of head-butting – competition, ego and feelings don't mix well, apparently. Finally, however, they seem to reach a peace after a day on the beach.

Word count: 3K (getting into writing these shorter fits woo!)

Warnings: Kind of angsty but also you make out so like is it really that bad; allusions to smut; lots of swear words; yeah, not much for this, it's pretty PG.

A/N: YAYYY, I'm back, sort of but also not really but also ENJOY THIS FIC. Yes, technically it is an extract from an unfinished chapter of the mav x reader Wattpad story I'm halfway through writing (yes, I have a wattpad, it's called nonoitsnina), and maybe (BIIIIG emphasis on MAYBE) I will do a second part where y'all actually fuck and stuff but for now just take this. If anyone's still slinking around the Top Gun stuff, that is. Also, Bee is your RIO here. Just to preface. And Phantom (YOUR CALL-SIGN) shortens to Tommy or Tom from time to time but like if you read the Wattpad book (YES I KNOW I SOUND LIKE A SCARY 14 YEAR OLD) it makes more sense. OKAY ENJOY COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED HAVE A LOVELY JUBBLY DAY

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Stupid smiles plastered bright across their faces, Bee and Goose are already dashing down the road, speed-walking like a couple of suburban mothers, one swathed in a beach towel and picnic blanket, the other lopsided with a half-empty cooler grasped in one hand. 

I watch them go, brow furrowed, over my shoulder, slightly disconcerted. 

“I guess they—” Mav pauses, then huffs, equally as confused, “—really wanted those ice-creams.”

Sure. That’s why they keep glancing back at us and giggling like idiots: ice-creams. 

Maverick and I are strolling along the boardwalk back home – despite washing my feet at the tap, there’s still sand between my toes that tickles my skin with every step, but I could care less. He’d asked if I wanted us to take the bus—but I’d said no. Call me a loon (Bee certainly would), but, even after a full day of work—or play—nothing beats sitting outside in the quiet. Except sleep, I guess. But, when I can keep my eyes open, looking out a good view—and, boy, is this watercolour sunset some view—is perfect. After growing up in a city full of dust and cracks, I’ve embraced it: I’m gonna be one of those old ladies in a rocking chair on her porch, day and night, night and day.

Having just finished my own crêpe, I eat Maverick’s. When I ask him if he’s bothered by it, he tells me he’d bought them both for me in the first place. 

Sweet. Y’know, I really thought I was a good judge of character. I had to be, to be fair, growing up, pursuing this career – you must always assume the worst until proven otherwise. That’s the safe way, and it’s served me well. Until it had me screaming and yelling at everyone. That’s not—right. It makes me absolutely nauseous. 

So, all of these estimated traits, good and bad, have either been tossed or been filtered out.

It boils down to Maverick and his easy grin. He walks along the edge of the sidewalk, just looking at me with that goddamn easy grin. I’ve half a mind to slap him, just to give me a break from his attention. It makes me horribly self-conscious, forces a little thrill on me, like when you’re at the apex of a rollercoaster, just about to tip over. It feels like that, but it also feels like light streaming through a half-blinded window, so the warmth just collects there on the sill so that, when you touch it, you wish you could roll under it like a blanket. Of course, that warmth accumulates. I’m sweating. Like—a—pig. 

Jesus, I want to scream into my hands with how good he looks. His dark hair is still slightly damp with seawater, stiff in some places and criminally soft in others. Every now and then, he’ll pull at the white button-up that sticks just a little to his chest, to the contours of his stomach, and fan the skin there. Jesus Christ. My hands are basically twitching to touch him there, to feel the heat of him beneath my palm, solid and beating gently with his heartbeat. I clasp my fingers very tightly around my fork, my crêpe slip, concentrating it all into one point. 

I can’t tell if feeling like this is the best or the worst. Jesus, imagine if the other guys knew. They’d never shut up about it. Christ, they’d never take me seriously again. I don’t want to be the “girlfriend” – I want to be a formidable pilot. So many people just don’t think those two things can ever coexist. 

Not that I want to be a girlfriend. I couldn’t say that word out loud without feeling wrong. I’m a lot of things, but I don’t know if I could be that. 

A bike passes with an urgent ring of its bell, and Maverick twists his body in towards mine, hand hovering over my back, to push me out of the way from it. 

I go blank, scrambling to remember where we were in the conversation, mouth dry.

“So, you’re telling me,” I begin, grinning, “going into Return of the Jedi, you hoped that Luke and Leia would end up together?”

Mav sighs and rolls his eyes, tearing off a little of what remains of the crêpe. ‘Well, at the time, I didn’t know they we’re fuckin’ siblings—”

“Maverick, that is incest.”

“Come on!” he laughs, and it’s the best sound in the world. “Goose thought so, too! Luke’s the main guy, so, like, it’s not not logical to think he’d get the main girl, right—?”

“But it’s Han Solo!” I exclaim, throwing my head back with a snort. He smiles down at me, eyes warm, in a way that I’m probably misinterpreting and will replay over and over in my head when I’m trying to sleep in bed tonight. “I thought you’d be a Han Solo kind of guy.”

“What, I remind you of him?” He tosses his head back and smoulders. I fake a gag.

“Well, he’s just—he’s just—” I trail off into laughter. “He’s really—I can’t explain it! If you ask any girl, she’ll know what I mean. Han Solo is so—” I giggle again, remembering how stunned and attracted to him I was when I first watched A New Hope in the theatre. “He’s just a lot of things.”

“Oh, yeah?—like what?”

Gosh, I can feel myself burning up – does he have to lower his voice like that? Does he have to try and catch my eye? God, it’s almost easier to hate him, to be honest – at least then I wouldn’t be acting like such a puddle.

“Like, charming and daring and, um—and clever, and—I don’t know. It’s just the way he speaks or something.”

He hums, hands in his pockets, his dad’s jacket draped over his forearm – I don’t think I’ve seen him go anywhere without that leather jacket. “And you like those things?” he pushes.

I bark out a laugh. “C’mon, Maverick, everyone like those things.” True enough – I could be blind and still fall in love with Han Solo and his smooth-talking. “And why Luke? Even if they weren’t siblings, why him? He had zero chemistry with—”

“Because he’s the chosen one!”

“—yeah, well, he—”

“He’s cool! Luke is objectively cool. He’s a pilot, he’s a Jedi, he’s a leader, he’s—”

“What-ever!” I exclaim, scrunching up my nose at him, and we giggle into quiet. “I’m not saying I didn’t like him as a character – I think he’s an amazing character. I just wouldn’t fuck ‘im.” I cackle at the absurdity of it all.

We continue walking.

Maybe all of this will fade in a couple hours. Maybe it’s the magic of Top Gun, this beach, this dusk that settles in fast around us, the lights that illuminate the darkening boardwalk. It’ll all be over in a couple more weeks, anyway. Bee ‘n’ I’ll go back to the carrier and be on with things, and Maverick will do whatever it is that he does. I know Goose says we should make plans to meet after school’s out, but who really has the time to spare? So, thank God Mav didn’t ride in on his motorcycle, ‘cause, if he’d insisted I hop on and wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his shoulder and la-la-la, I’d be in great danger of sleeping with him.

“D’you wanna head straight back?”

I look up at him. “Hmm?”

Jesus, he needs to tone down his looks or something – it’s disarming, a hazard, really. Those green eyes are givin’ me some mean butterflies, alright. Nowadays, I’ll see him fresh out of the sky, hair spiky and dishevelled with sweat – he doesn’t wear helmet hair as well as others, that’s for certain – and I’ll have to bury my face in my locker. I’ll see him absentmindedly chewing on his dog-tags, and it’ll have me air-headed for the rest of a lecture. I can’t classify it as a distraction, but it’s—certainly not intended. My head isn’t screwed on so tight, and I can’t keep tipping up in the cockpit – I know my ambition to win and these thoughts about Maverick have no correlation, but, good God, maybe if I could just focus more in classes—

“There’s—” he starts, then swallows. “We could go to the pier. Not really a view anymore, but we could see some lights. Boats, maybe.”

“Yeah,” I reply, excitement jolting through my body.

“Yeah?” I nod. He smiles. “Okay.”

When he asks me if I’m cold, he readjusts his jacket on his arm, like he’s already made his mind up to lend it to me. Of course, I shake my head – I’d probably end up stinking up the damn thing with how much I seem to be sweatin’.

We take our time to the end of the pier. When we reach the railing, we step up onto the bar and lean out to look down at the softly lapping water.

“You—erm—”

I turn to look at him, and the stutter of his words stops abruptly, his eyes wide. He looks at me dumbly, like I’m one of the seven fuckin’ wonders. Now, I’ve seen Maverick drunk, stupid, and downright embarrassing himself—just think of the time she lost that fuckin’ lovin’ feeling—but, even when he doesn’t know something, he always keeps face. He always has something to say. Now?—now, here, he looks hopeless.

“You—”

“I what, Mitchell?” I grin, shoving my hair behind my ear in light of the strong breeze that suddenly billows in from across the sea. “Watching the ships, right?” There they are: little dots on the horizon.

He flushes, snapping his attention away. “Right.”

I know what’s coming – I pick up on all of it: the fidgeting of his hands, the downcast dart of his eyes, the way he bites down on the inside of his cheek. Though it kinda perks me up to begin with, I just end up wilting again at the reminder of a certain instructor who I am evidently not.

Still, it’s nice to hear him say: “It’s just—” I tilt my head towards him, “—I think you’ve got great eyes. Great everything really. I dunno. I think—you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

I snort. “That 4% really got to you, hey, Mav?”

He doesn’t laugh, just pauses, takes a second to think about what he’s going to say. “I—don’t know—how to say it.”

My heart drops—in the bad way. “What?"

“That I think about you—a lot.”

Oh, Christ. I let out a deep sigh, and, immediately, his face drops like a stone. “Oh, don’t do that, Maverick.”

“Do what?” he protests through a weak smile.

I recoil just a little bit: he’s a flirt, yes, but I didn’t take him for a dirtbag. “Do what?” my ass. He knows what. Blonde-hair-and-bright-eyes, who’s what. Think of how smart she is, how accomplished she is, how beautiful she is, how level and respected she is – all of these things and a man can still write Charlie of as not that big a deal? That’s fuckin’ low.

“You’re being mean,” I tell him firmly, trying to force down the disgust that pushes under my tongue and the embarrassment that burns over my cheeks.

Maybe Carole and Goose really weren’t exaggerating. Maybe he has got eight women all lined up for him, just waiting for him to call.

His hand makes to touch my shoulder but doesn’t end up making contact – it just hovers, unsure. Either way, I wasn’t going to let it happen. Either way, I find myself scurrying back, away.

Mav has the audacity to look confused. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to—”

“So, what?” I snap, hopping down from the railing and scowling unabashedly at him once more. “I’m one of those girls you string along?”

He laughs – only, it’s not cute anymore; it’s fucking annoying. “No—!”

The wind blows strongly, warm, still, but with the promise of a storm. I have to raise my voice in order to get myself across, I tell myself: “What?—you wanna challenge yourself, or something? Me and Charlie—?”

This?—this seems to piss him off. Mav’s expression crumples into indigence as he protests strongly again, “No—!"

“But—”

“Phantom,” he presses desperately, eyes pleading for me to listen – I’ve seen that expression on him before; every time I’ve ignored it, I’ve ended up regretting it, yelling myself silly over a misunderstanding. So, I pause. I listen. The urgent haze fades away within the span of three deep breaths.

“I wanted Charlie’s advice on how to speak to you. I was nervous—am nervous—and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. She’s very—to-the-point. And Goose and Bee fluff like their lives depend on it.”

Nice one. Nice going, Tommy: do what you do best and throw a fuckin’ rage, why don’t you?

“I thought you didn’t like me—” I say to him dumbly, “—after what I said to you.”

We don’t talk about that argument in the locker rom. We don’t talk about the one after volleyball either, or the one in the air. It’s no excuse – that Viper is breathing down my neck, that I know Skipper expects highly of me – to act like a dick to all the competitors that block my way to that damn trophy. I need to climb this hill.

And here Maverick is, thinking about me—a lot.

“Your opinion matters to me more than you’d think,” he admits with a snarky, little snort. “You’re—” he trails off; the gale dies down. “You’re just—I don’t know how to put it. I’m—not great at the serious-talking stuff.”

“Embarrassed?” I tease. God, I know I am.

He grins. “A little bit.”

We make our way back to the dorms, talking. He tells me he’s liked me ever since this one lecture at the beginning of Top Gun—after the induction, after the bar, after the first exercise—when he’d said something dumb in response to Charlie’s criticism. According to him: “You turned back and looked at me and—and you just smiled. God, I dunno – I just couldn’t look away from you. Even—even after you, y’know, y’turned back around, I—I was just staring at the back of your head, hoping you’d do it again. That you’d look at me again, smile at me again.”

I don’t even remember that day.

He walks me to the door of my dorm, where the windows are all dark and the blinds all flat shut.

No way to make it up to him. No time, either. Should’ve kissed him right then and there at the bar that first night when he came over to the jukebox. Bee saw it in my face – I know that now. I should’ve let him win that bet with himself.

I might be about to do him that favour now, I guess. All flushed, all pretty, all nervous—he gets nervous?—Maverick is so close to me that the heat of his body radiates onto mine, far too dangerous for my liking. This is not what I intended. This is so far off my plan of how this program was gonna go.

But his nose is brushing mine, and his hands are so warm and gentle as they press over my arms.

“Can—?”

I nod softly. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

The kiss, when it comes, is this soft, tentative sink into a brittle release. The gentle press of his nose into my warm cheek elicits a quiet sigh from the both of us – the break from silence must render me into this here embarrassing mess, melting like the ice-cream we shared earlier in the hot sun, because Mav gets that shit-eating grin on his face like he’s watching me lose to him at volleyball all over again. Whatever – he’s the one that probably had to take a cold shower over how I looked.

I cup my hand over the back of his neck, drawing him closer still to me.

Maverick kisses like he’s paying attention to every single detail of it – his eyes are slanted just slightly open, watching my face, and one of his hands rests kindly over my neck, his fingers pressing just a little into the pulse point which I’m sure is racing like a damn horse by now.  

Of course, he’s beautiful at this. Just my fuckin’ luck. Technically, yes, it is prohibited to have sexual relations on work premises. Even a man and a woman behind a locked door is assumed to be inappropriate – I’ve heard that one too many a time by the air boss back on the carrier. I’m far from a goody-two-shoes, but rules are rules for a reason. So, of course, it’s just my luck that I meet an unfairly handsome pilot with pretty eyes and entirely too destabilising a kiss. He trails his nose down along my jaw before burying it there in my neck; I hold him tight to me, fingers curling around the thick muscle of his shoulders.

When we kiss again, it’s different: searing, crushing, slow, breathless. The chorus of crickets and cicadas and other night-things is drowned out by the roaring of blood in my ears and the soft noise that slips past Mav’s lips as he pauses for breath, to pant hotly over my cheek.

“You’re gonna have to help me out here, stud,” I mumble helplessly against him, to which he nods fiercely, reaching out blind for the door-knob and guiding me stumbling into my room.

Bee isn’t here – upon the side table, there’s a little, folded note that reads in chicken-scratch handwriting: Staying with Goose for the night. Have fun!

[wysteria-clad]

Once upon a time

paring: Jack Russell x fem! wife! reader

genre: fluff

warnings: brush your teeth after reading this cause it's too sweet

a/n: sweet, domestic fluff with our favourite wolf boy <3

--------

"Once upon on a time-"

"Long, long, long ago" the little boy piped up with excitement.

"Now I think about it, it's not that long ago, "

"Papa!"

"Vale, si. Long, long, long ago" Jack added couple of 'o' at the last 'long' with a smile after watching his son smile.

"There was a big bad wolf living in the dark forest"

"Why was it called 'The Dark forest'?"

"Big, scary creatures roamed in that forest"

"Like uncle Ted?"

"Like uncle Ted."

"But he is not scary, he is silly" the child said with a goofy grin.

"To us, he is not scary." Jack smiled.

"Or the forest was really dark at night, that's why it was called 'The Dark forest'

"Who is the one telling the story, changuito?"

"Me!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes! The big bad wolf man was not really bad, and he got into trouble one day" the little boy chirped up.

"Wolf man?" Jack got up from the bed for a moment to close to the windows.

"Yup" the child said, popping up the 'p'. "Some bad people got the wolf man, they wanted to hurt him. And then a very powerful-"

"And then a very powerful witch-"

The boy raised his hands, exclaiming, "A very powerful, cool, awesome-

"Si, a very powerful, cool, awesome," Jack couldn't stop the smile spreading on his face like warmth, "and the kindest witch saved him from the trouble. Hermosa."

"With her awesome witch powers?"

"Si, with her awesome witch powers" he ruffled the kid's hair.

"What happened after that?"

"The wolf man and the witch became friends."

"And then?"

"The witch fell in love with the wolf man first."

"Oh really?" you walked into your son's bedroom.

"Mama!"

"That's what I remember, amor" Jack added with a sheepish grin.

"Mmm hmm" you strode towards him and pecked his cheek.

"Now I remember it, I think the wolf man fell in love with the witch first"

"The cool witch."

"The wolf man fell in love with the cool witch."

"And then?"

"And then they got married one day and they had-"

"Me!"

You can see your son's new front tooth gap as he grinned.

"Yes, you, sweetheart"

"Mama, will I be cool like you when I grow up?"

"Yes, you will be cool like your mama"

"Hey, your papa is cool too!" Jack pretended to be offended.

"Less cool than mama" your son giggled.

"You take that back, young man. Oh, you've angered the wolf man!" Jack tickled your son with his 'scary claws'.

Hearing your child's laughter, your husband, that moment was just perfect. A smile decorated your face.

"Papa is cool like mama!"

Your husband only stopped after your son confessed it.

You shook your head playfully. "Alright, time to sleep now."

"Good night, mama. Good night, papa"

"Good night, my little wolf" with a smile never leaving your face, you bent down to kiss his forehead.

"Mi tesoro" Jack pulled the blanket up to cover your son and turning off the table lamp.

.

.

After exiting you child's room, you turned towards your husband with a mischievous grin, "Why don't you act out a bedtime story for me, papi?"

"Oh, you are a wicked witch" Jack hooked his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

"You love it" you chuckled, closing the remaining gap between you with a passionate kiss. "I love you, Jack."

He leaned back a bit to look into your eyes, he cupped your cheek with one hand, his other hand resting on your waist, "Te amo, mi vida."

------

Translation (not 100% literal & accurate):

vale, si - alright, yes

changuito - little monkey

hermosa - referring a gorgeous woman

amor - love

mi tesoro - my treasure

te amo - I love you

mi vida - my life

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Stitches

Harry was laughing so hard that his side was in stitches. Clutching his abdomen, he wheezed, "stop it!"

Draco grinned down at him, looking rather pleased with himself and his story telling, his shoulder length blond hair tickling Harry's cheek and clavicle.

"You're too much," he said, through his giggles, "I adore you."

The other man froze for a second, smile slipping just a bit uncertainly.

"Hey," he said, cupping his cheek and leaning up to kiss his chin. "I didn't mean that you were too much," he said. "That's not-"

"No," Draco said, "I know that part. I just," he swallowed and looked away.

"What?" Harry asked.

Rolling off of him, Draco stood and reached for his boxers, "I should go."

"What?" Harry asked, rolling toward him and reaching out to lay a hand on his waist, "why?"

There was a long pause as Draco pulled up his boxers before turning around to look at Harry. "I think we're getting in too deep," he said.

"What?"

"You just said that you adore me," he replied, as if that would make everything clear.

"And?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows while he waited for a response.

Draco spluttered at him, "And?" he said. "What do you mean and?"

"I mean so what?" he asked. "I do adore you. What more would you like me to say?"

"You can't possibly," Draco replied, hands on his hips.

He shook his head, "Why?"

"Because you're you, you could have anyone that you want!"

"Even you?" he asked, heart beating a little harder in his chest.

Draco ran his hands through his hair, "yes of course, even me," he replied, "because you already have me."

"Then what's the problem?" he asked, baffled by this entire conversation.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his brow, "Because it's one thing for you to have me, and it's another thing entirely for you to actually want me."

"Draco, I think it's been pretty clearly established that I want you," he said, hooking his forefinger in the top of his boxers and tugging him closer.

Draco slapped his hand away, "Not like that," he said. "That's exactly my point. If you only want me for my body then you're getting in too deep and I can't take your sweet words if they're only about getting to fuck me."

He blinked at him, "Draco, I don't only want you for your body. Yes, you're gorgeous, of course you are," he said, "but if I didn't also adore you for your personality, you never would have been in my bed in the first place. When I say that I adore you, I mean that I love the way I feel when I'm with you. I love your cleverness, your sense of humor, your kindness, the way that you treat me like I'm just a person you enjoy." He reached for his hand, "this has never been just sex to me."

"Me either," Draco whispered.

Harry nodded, "I know. Sorry, I thought we were on the same page about this," he said. "Stay. Please."

"Believing that you actually want me feels pretty scary," Draco confessed, crossing his arms over his waist.

He crawled closer, kneeling on the bed in front of Draco and wrapping his arms around his waist. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "At least, not on purpose. We'll probably fight and I'll say stupid shit, but I'll always want to make it right after. I'm not going anywhere," he added.

Draco hummed and leaned their foreheads together, closing his eyes.

"You're worth the effort," he said softly after a moment. "You're worth the fights and the work to repair after. I don't want to hurt you," he added.

"I don't want to hurt you either," he said. "Not anymore."

Harry huffed a soft laugh, nudging his cheek with his nose. "Come back to bed?"

Draco nodded and they slid back under the covers, slotting their bodies together. Both feeling a little shy in light of all of the words they'd finally said aloud. "I love you too," Draco whispered into the quiet dark of Harry's room.

He kissed his nose, "Stay," he repeated, brushing his nose over Draco's.

"Okay."

Loving each other wasn't always easy, it wasn't always painless but they were both always committed to staying and fixing the hurts.

----------------

Read more of my fics here.

[sapphic-woes]

Fables

A/N: A part of the 1k commissions! @penguin-wizard-party suggested a scary Eivor stumbling upon you during a raid...and I was like "wow bestie your brain is so big, imma get on that." lolol I hope you enjoy it and thx sm for commissioning me! <3

____________

You had heard the stories. Even spun some up yourself. Yet who knew the life of a storyteller would end up being cut down by the very people you lied about?

"...and the Danes fell upon them, hungry for war, violence, and blood!"

How foolish had it been? To make fables out of such tragedies. To think they would never happen to you.

"There was terror in the air, their homes ablaze. Alas! Would anyone save them?"

You shut your eyes and cover your ears, anything to stop the screaming. How many lay dead in the streets? How many were captured? You curl up in the little wooden box you once kept your most expensive dresses. You'd hung them up in the closet, hoping that would satisfy the Danes enough to not search for who owned them. More horrible cries fill your ears, and you try not to cry. Would you end up like them soon?

Was the help you spoke about in your stories…never going to come?

You freeze as the door handle shakes. You'd locked it, but it wouldn't hold out for long.  With bated breath, you stare into the darkness, waiting. 

It isn't long before your heart drops, and the hope that you'll make it out of this alive dwindles.

You hear voices. Gruff and in a language you don't know. The one closest to the door sounds like a woman. That doesn't make you feel any better. Surely, a woman would simply kill you rather than take you captive, right?

Suddenly the door is hit with a loud and sharp boom, followed by the terrible sound of it crashing to the ground. Had she done that? In one blow?

That’s it, I'm going to die. 

Boots creak across the wooden floor. Never had the sound been so dreadful. Woman or not, she was a Dane. If you were discovered, she could cut your head off and take it as a souvenir. To live, you had to stay quiet. You had to be still… 

…and pray. God, did you fervently pray.

Father, do not forsake me, for I am your faithful servant. 

The voice is clearer now. It's rough and awfully hoarse. It carries throughout the entire room, as if searching for you.

All my life, I’ve served you. spreading your word through the stories I weave. 

The steps grow near. Her voice is loud. It mimics the beat of your frantic heart. How ironically intune you both were. Perhaps that was why despite your efforts, she found you.

Save me Lord. Do not let her kill me! Please, anything but that–

"...it seems I've caught a mouse." Light shines as the lid lifts, and your eyes squint by reflex. Her English catches you off guard. Although it's thick with an accent, it's understandable. Fearfully, you look up.

Oh. It's a wolf.

How could eyes be so daunting? How could a face seem carved from stone? There's a pang in your heart. A chill striking through your body. How much of this was excitement? How much more fear? The woman is dirty, clothes stained with mud and blood. She seems to relish in it, much like how she relishes in you, eyes scanning over your shivering form.

You feel cornered by that gaze. As if you’re a butterfly pinned to a wall.

You're unsure whether you like it or not.

"A beautiful mouse hiding away in a little box? How adorable." The viking smiles, but her eyes narrow. Her blue irises are calculating, studying your wide eyes and parted lips. You’re too scared to speak, but the woman has no qualms with coaxing your voice out of you.

"Tell me Lady," you suck in a breath as she leans over the side of your box, blonde locks falling to tickle your skin. She smells of the burning fire outside and the blood of your people. It makes you shudder, and in turn the woman smiles. It's a soft smile, yet somehow it makes your blood run cold. "What are you called?"

What? You don't understand, but you answer regardless, scared of what would happen if you didn't.

"I-I, um, I am called Y/N…" Your miserable voice warily croaks out the sentence. The Dane repeats your name under her breath, testing it on her tongue. She seems pleased with it, lips spreading into a wider smile.

"It suits you. As does the last name Varinsdottir." You blink in confusion, then gasp as the viking grabs your wrist and pulls you out of your hiding place. You stumble with a yelp, falling into her arms as she chuckles.

"I admit, I'd rather not take a woman from a town I raided as my wife…but fate has not let us meet in the kindest conditions…nor am I kind enough to let you go." The woman's eyes shine as she looks down at you, grinning.

"You are beautiful, lady. It's no wonder you tried to hide, any of my wolves would have wanted you for themselves the moment they saw you…" You gasp as the woman cups your cheek in her calloused hand, leaning down to whisper.

"So I am thankful to the gods I found you first. I'll make you mine, y/n." You open your mouth to speak, but the woman has other plans–silencing you with a passionate kiss. 

"Mmh! W-wait, why–?" You whimper as the Dane doesn't relent, kissing you as if she hoped to devour you whole. Again and again, with hands grasping you close and body grinding against yours–you're falling weak to her advances, her burning desire, and gentle lips. It was useless to try and escape, nor were you sure you wanted to. 

What's gotten into me? A single kiss, and your lust becomes as strong as your fear. Did you forget how dangerous she is? No, you hadn’t. Yet she was…bewitching. The greed in her eyes when she pulls away and looks at you is addicting. The way her scarred, untamed body holds you tenderly. Protectively. Possessively.

There's something wrong with me. You know it because instead of running, struggling, screaming, anything–you merely nod, cheeks warm as you accept her proposal.

"Then…please take care of me…?"

[victoriarambles]

HII HEYAA!! So this is my first ever fic, WOOOHOO‼️‼️ sorry for any grammar mistakes or if it’s a little weird 😭

But anyway. This is FULLY PLATONIC. SHIPPERS DO NOT INTERACT IN ANY WAY.

Ler!Phil, Lee!Wilbur. sbi. Wilbur is about 13 at this time.

Cold laughter<3

(Sorry for this i could not think of a better title)

————————————————————————

It was a snowy day outside the sbi household. As curious little younglings, Tommy and Techno had gone exploring together as Wilbur and Phil stayed together at home. Wilbur had already almost caught a fever so he decided to stay in for the day. However phil couldn’t help but notice how sad he looked. Wil really wanted to go outside, looking at his brothers by the window as they had fun together whilst he had to stay home, but he knew that it was for the best. Phil wanted to find a way to cheer him up as he got an idea, smirking at him as he walked up to him.

“Hey, Wil, do you wanna hear a cool story? It’s about a creature that has been lurking around our city lately.”

Phil said, sitting beside his son.

“A- a creature? What kind?”

Wilbur asked, his curiosity peaked at his fathers words.

“A bad bad creature..”

Phil joked, looking at Wilbur as he got closer.

“This creature picks the saddest people, making them its victims!”

He said, making Wilbur get even more curious.

“It feeds off of the reactions of its victims!! Always smiling at them!”

He got closer to Wilbur, wrapping his arm around his shoulder.

“It lurks around in the dark, walking up to its victims from behind before picking them up and then…”

He said, leaving a moment of suspense for Wilbur before he pounced at him, gently placing him down and putting his hands onto his stomach

“Tickles them!!”

He said, giggling at Wilbur before gently poking around his stomach with one hand and scribbling up and down his side with the other, leaving Wilbur squealing. Wilbur wasn’t a very ticklish fella but something about his dad’s touch always got him.

“Dahad!! Whahat—?!”

Wilbur giggled, confused as to how he got from this semi scary situation to him being tickled, Phil just chuckled before going to tickle his ribs, gently tracing them and the spaces in between them as wilbur let out some hiccupy giggles, lightly throwing his head back as he kicked his legs out a little.

“What? Bad spot, hm?”

Phil teased, wiggling his fingers in between his son’s ribs which just made him giggle louder. After he got those giggles, he decided to go to his thighs, lightly tracing shapes on them and just scribbling random things with his fingers. Wilbur let out a snort, going into a small giggling fit whilst kicking his legs out more violently.

“Hehah— dahad!! Nohot that spot!! Plehease!!”

Wilbur asked, trying to muffle his giggles as Phil listened to him, well sort of. He went to a different spot, yes, but he went for his hips, which were a pretty bad spot for Wilbur.

“NOHA NOT MY— DAHAD—!! NOT THAT SPOHOT EITHER!!”

Wilbur said in between his laugh, squirming around wildly and hitting his hand on the floor as a sign of giving up. Phil changed spots after a bit, going for his neck which was a spot known to make Wilbur rather bubbly and giggly.

He just giggled, not speaking much as he liked his tickles. Phil stopped after a bit, seeing Wilbur’s smile.

“You didn’t even tell me to stop once! Maybe you like this monster huh?”

Phil teased, lightly poking Wilbur jokingly as Wilbur just giggled and looked back at the window, looking at his brothers.

Maybe staying inside wasn’t that bad after all.

[yiplee]

Not-So-Scary Stories

A TPN ticklefic!

(Lee!Ray) (Ler!Emma)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sorry this isn’t South Park but I got this idea and I just HAD to write it out.

It’s Scary Story night in the Orphanage, but tonight’s storyteller Emma has something special planned for her spooky tale.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

All of the children gathered around in the dark room. Emma, Ray and Norman all sat together at the head of the group. Emma held a flashlight below her face, providing a spooky lighting to add to the atmosphere.

“Is everyone ready for my scary story?” Emma asked, looking around the room. The kids all nodded and murmured in agreement, with a few nervous giggles and whispers to eachother before they were hushed by Emma.

“Once upon a time…there was..a ghost. A ghost named Giggles!” Emma started. The children all murmured in confusion. This didn’t sound like a very scary ghost.

“And Giggles the ghost haunts children who..tell scary stories about him!” She continued, getting a few gasps. Didn’t that mean they would be haunted?

“And…he makes his presence known by..possessing a kid! And making them do a big, evil laugh! Hence his name, Giggles!” She announces, flickering the flashlight for effect, getting a few shrieks from the children.

“Yes, and-” She was interrupted by a sudden snicker next to her. Everyone’s eyes turned to Ray, as he tilted his head down to conceal his face, with some more small giggles coming from his direction. Although, it was hard to see much in the darkness.

“Ray? Are you alright?” Emma asked, feigning worry. Suddenly, Ray’s head shot up, as he shrieked with laughter. All of the kids screamed in unison.

Then suddenly, the lights were turned on by Norman. When everyone’s eyes adjusted…Ray wasn’t possessed! Emma was just tickling him!

“Ehehemma! Whahat the heheheck?!” Ray sputtered, squirming in her grasp as she had her hand wrapped around his back, and her fingers scribbled up and down his side.

The kids murmured in sighs of relief and giggles of amusement, watching the scene.

“What? I had to make it realistic!” Emma chuckled, going in with both hands to continue tickling Ray.

“Wehehell you should’ve told m- GAAHAHA EHEHEMMA THE STORY’S OVER! STAHAHAP!” Ray squealed, as Emma’s hands started tickling in his armpits.

Everyone watched in amusement as Ray was tickled to pieces by Emma, the usually stone-faced grump being reduced to a heap of giggles.

“Y’know Ray, a smile looks good on you. And your laugh is cute. You should do it more.” She comments sweetly, continuing to flutter her fingers across his ribs.

“E-EHEHEMMA PLEHEHEASE! CUHUHUT IT OUT!” Ray pleaded, squirming harder.

“Alright..if you promise to smile more!” Emma teased, diving her fingers back into his armpits, getting another squeal from him.

“NAAHAHAAHAHA NOHO!!” Ray shrieked, attempting to pull her hands away from his pits.

“No? You won’t? Well then, I guess I’ll just have to continue!” She teases, continuing to skitter her nails in Ray’s armpits.

“WAIT NOHOHO! THATS NAHAHAT WHAHAT I MEAHAHANT!!” Ray squealed, doubling over with laughter.

“Soooo…you’ll smile more? Huh? Will ya?” She teased, poking and tasing at his ribs.

“YEHEHEHES! WHAHAHATEVER! JUST STAHAHAP!” He conceded, pulling triumphantly away.

With a laugh, she released him. He sighed with relief as he caught his breath, recovering, as Norman sat back down with the others.

“Well, that was a not-so-scary story for you, huh, Ray?” Norman teased, getting a sharp glare from Ray.

“Don’t push it.” He warned. Norman chuckled, raising his hands in surrender, backing off.

The other kids all clapped for Emma’s story, and the flashlight was passed on to the next kid. They may be moving on to the next story now, but Ray would never live that down.

[dannystheone]

Could you please write a fic about ler!Clyde tickling lee!Jimmy?

Ah sorry this request was put in before I got on the boat! I had this idea for a while though so I thought I would flesh it out! I like summery aesthetics so I would go for a summer activity :) Also if this fic is a little lacking I apologize, I haven't written in a second so I have to get back into it :)

I hope you enjoy this!

Stop the jokes, Jimmy! (Lee Jimmy/ Ler Clyde)

The boys are spending the weekend camping with PC Principal as a summer activity. When Clyde gets into trouble, Jimmy tries to lighten the mood with some jokes. Clyde finds a way to entertain himself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another log was added to the crackling fire; the embers of flame flying up to reach the dark indigo sky speckled with oncoming stars. The boys sat in a circle around the campfire, listening intently to PC Principal's scary campfire story. Their eyes were wide, not missing a beat. Smores and trash littered the area around the boys; a telling night of the activities they'd been up to that night.

PC Principal held a flashlight under his chin, the shadows on his eyes highlighting him ghoulishly. "-The man had admitted to falling in love with the woman with the green scarf around her neck. But he was too curious about the green scarf. It ate away at him, as he saw she wore it even when she went to bed. He asked her about it, and she said she would let him know when the time is right. One day, he had know what it meant. While the woman slept, the man crept up to her bedside and grabbed hold of the scarves end. He gave it a tug-"

PC Principal put his hand up in a claw for dramatic effect above his head. "-and the scarf flew off the woman's neck, sending her head rolling to the floor! MWAHAHAHA!" PC Principal cackled maniacally for horrifying dramatic effect. All of the boys rolled their eyes at the lame ending, while Butters clutched his knees and trembled.

"Bwaaah! Oh hamburgers, that was scary! I don't know if I can sleep tonight after that one PC Principal! Oh, Jesus!" Butters exclaimed. The boys, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Eric, Tolkien, Clyde, and Jimmy, collectively rolled their eyes.

"Oh shut up, Butters. That story was lame as shit. Clyde's story was better than that one and I was half asleep." Cartman groaned. PC Principal sat up from his seat and stretched his kinked back.

"Alright everyone, listen up. We're gonna go collect more firewood before we set up camp for the night. Can't be too careful with these temperatures. Everyone, let's go." PC Principal announced. The boys sighed and got up from their seats, Jimmy turning to move as well. Clyde looked around at the moving group hurriedly.

"Oh uh, I'll stay behind with Jimmy PC Principal. It's uh...it's dark already. He could trip over a branch or something on his crutches." Jimmy gave an inquisitive look as PC Prinicpal considered.

"I'll be fine-" Jimmy started, but PC Principal spoke first.

"Good thinking. Someone needs to watch the campfire and our supplies, especially this late at night. You boys keep your head on a swivel, and we'll be back soon." PC Principal and the rest of the boys turned around to make their way into the dark woods.

Clyde snickered to himself as he pulled his Nintendo Switch out from his coat pocket. "Heheh, finally, some alone time." Clyde started up a game of Mario Kart. Jimmy looked over and pointed a finger at the console.

"Hey Clyde, I don't think you're su-supposed to have that," Jimmy commented. Clyde scoffed and started racing the computer characters in Moo Moo Meadows.

"Oh whatever Jimmy, it's not like anyone is gonna find out-"

A hand snatched the Switch from Clyde's hands like a crack of lightning. Clyde whirled behind him to see none other than PC Principal, tucking the Switch in an oversized pocket.

"And I'll be taking that. Head on a swivel, Donovan." PC Principal warned. Clyde gaped and groaned as PC Principal actually disappeared into the woods this time. The boy sighed as he laid his cheek in his palm.

"Goddammit, I try to get some fucking alone time around here. It's bad enough I'm surrounded by dudes as it is-" Clyde started, but Jimmy interrupted him.

"H-Hey, don't be down Cl-Clyde. We can still have a bah- a beuh- a beh- a banging good time with just the two of us." Jimmy reassured, but Clyde wasn't convinced. In fact, he looked even more glum than before.

"I doubt it," Clyde said simply and went back to his wallowing before the crackling fire. Jimmy was quiet for a moment before speaking again.

"Hey, Clyde. Wh-What do you call a hippie's wife?" Jimmy asked. Clyde sighed loudly through his nose while he begrudgingly answered.

"What, Jimmy," Clyde responded.

"M-Mihi-Mehe-M-Mississippi." Jimmy answered with a smile on his face. Clyde gave him a sideways glance and started throwing flecks in the fire to watch it roil and burn.

"N-Not a winner huh? T-Try this one on for size. Wh-What did one DNA say to the other- the other one? ...' D-Do these genes make me look fat'?" Jimmy joked. Clyde let the wind of the forest answer him as he gave Jimmy a blank stare. Jimmy swallowed and put on an award-winning smile.

"Wow, what a terrific audience. Okay, how about this one-" Clyde angrily swept the hair out of his eyes and splayed his hands toward Jimmy.

"God Jimmy just shut up already! No one is into your jokes dude! Just quit trying." Clyde snapped, earning a small flinch from Jimmy. The fire popped in response.

"I just wanted to make you laugh... m-my bad," Jimmy said in a small voice. Clyde looked up at him, the sadness in Jimmy's eyes illuminated by the fire. Dammit. He didn't mean to hurt his feelings.

"Jimmy I-" Clyde started, but Jimmy fidgeted in his crutches.

"J-Just forget it, Clyde. I didn't mean to get your Nin-Ne-Nintendo taken away." Jimmy said solemnly. Clyde felt bad now. He and Jimmy had never been terribly close, but he didn't want to sour any relationship between them like that. Clyde thought for a moment before a small grin showed on his face.

"Hey, Jimmy? Why are squids the funniest animals?" Clyde asked, inching closer to where Jimmy sat on the log by the fire.

"W-Well I'm not sure Clyde, why are they?" Jimmy responded innocently. Clyde set himself up on the seat next to Jimmy and prepped his fingers. Jimmy watched him warily.

"Cause of their ten-tickles!" Clyde answered and shot his hands forward to start scribbling in Jimmy's tummy. Jimmy sputtered and started wriggling immediately to get away from the fingers.

"Cl-Clyhyde! What thehe hehell?!" Jimmy twisted as well as he could with his crutches in the way, the metal pressing against Clyde's leg. Clyde scratched in various places around Jimmy's torso so he wouldn't be stopped so easily.

"You said you wanted to make me laugh Jimmy! So I'm making you laugh instead. I do have to do something to pass the time with no Nintendo, you know." Clyde said nonchalantly, while Jimmy's laughter petered over the sounds of the popping fire and hooting owls of the forest.

"Clyhyde! We cahan't be too lohohoud! Y-Yohou'll-you'll- hah!-" Jimmy tried to speak against the tickles but his stutter got the best of him. His cheeks were dusted pink at the thought of a creature becoming aware of their presence due to his raucous laughter.

Clyde smiled at his friend's attempt to escape the devious tickles. He fluffed his fingers up and down his friend's torso, pinching and wiggling his fingers in different spots to be unpredictable. Jimmy let go of his crutches to start slapping Clyde's hands away, but with the awkward positioning of how they sat, Jimmy was rendered immobile and unable to move away unless he crawled away.

"I'll what Jimmy? What's the matter, can't talk? You were talking plenty earlier." Clyde teased and fluffed his fingers around Jimmy's ears. Jimmy squeaked a manly sound and held his hands up to his ears to cover them. Clyde took advantage of that and squished Jimmy's lower tummy.

"Ahaha! *Hic!* Clyhyde! *Hic!* S-Stohop! *Hic!* I'll st-stohop mahaking johokes!" Jimmy cried, his arms shooting down to protect his stomach. Clyde was quick to scribble and tickle any spots that Jimmy left vulnerable, including getting past his defenses with ease and squishing his ribs.

"You will? I don't know Jimmy, I think you just have too many lame jokes in your system. It might take a lot more convincing to get me to stop." Clyde drawled and dotted his fingers anywhere that Jimmy wasn't quick enough to protect.

"Hehehee! O-Okahahay! I-I swehe- I- hehehee- I swhehe- *Hic!* hahaha!" Jimmy's stutter, hiccups, and laughter worked in tandem to prevent him from swearing off any further jokes. Clyde smirked as his fingers reached up to Jimmy's collarbones. Oh God- bad spot.

"Guess I'm too funny for you to stop laughing, huh Jimmy? Maybe I should be the next school comedian." Clyde wondered aloud, his fingers fluffing and tracing the collarbones under Jimmy's shirt. Jimmy turned into a turtle and tucked his chin into his neck to protect himself.

"Nohoho no no! Clyhyhyde not thehehere! *Hic!* Thahahat's a bahahad spohohot! *Hic!*" Jimmy was caught in between covering his collarbones to stop the tickles, and covering his lower tummy from getting attacked as Clyde switched to either tactic to keep Jimmy scrambled.

"Almost as bad as your jokes? I don't think so, Jim. This is pretty entertaining considering you got my Nintendo taken away. You have a lot to make up for. My Dad paid for that!" Clyde pointed out and used both his hands to scribble on Jimmy's collarbones and his tummy. Jimmy was starting to get tired from his exertion.

"I sahahaid sohorrehehee! *Hic!* *Hic!* I dihihidn't mehehean too!" Jimmy laughed and started pushing Clyde's wrists away.

"Jimmy let go!" Clyde demanded and tried to rip his hands away. Jimmy was still giggling, the residual tickles peppering his skin.

"Nohoho! Yohou'll t-tickle me again!" Jimmy pushed Clyde back on the log, just as their friends and PC Principal emerged from the dark forest.

"Boys! Are you alright? We heard noises from a mile away!" PC Principal dropped the kindling off next to the fire and walked over to the two of them. Jimmy swallowed as Clyde smiled cooly.

"Yeah, it sounded like a deranged cackling witch!" Kyle added. Jimmy's blush deepened at Kyle's comment, while Clyde's joy was elevated.

"Yeah Jimmy, why don't you go ahead and tell them what the noises were?" Clyde teased. Everyone dropped off their kindling and watched Jimmy expectantly.

"...Fuck o-off Clyde. You deserve getting your Nin-Ne-Nintendo taken away."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Best friend loki be gate keeping reader until he couldn't do it anymore...so he gotta do everything hard wayyy🥵

Stay the Night

Warnings: unwanted touching, noncon. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Oops, I added a side of roommate! Steve. Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

“Why don’t you take the couch? I’m certain Steve wouldn’t mind?” you ask as Loki stands behind the closet door, “you can’t sleep on the floor.”

You kick the door shut and face Loki. It’s almost funny how he has the borrowed sweats rolled at his waist. Even then the droop dangerously, and Steve’s tee is loose as it billows from his shoulders.

“I couldn’t ask him for any more. He is overly helpful,” he insists, “I don’t mind the floor,” he pauses and hiccups behind his hand, “I shouldn’t have had that glass of wine.”

“Ah, no biggie, it’ll be like my birthday,” you turn and lead him down the hall, “remember? I feel asleep watching that movie. I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up.”

“Is that what happened?” Steve emerges from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pajama pants and nothing else.

“I told you about it,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“Apologies, I didn’t think to invite you,” Loki interjects as you go into your room and he leans on the door frame.

“Oh, she did. But I was busy,” Steve answers. “I took her to dinner the next night instead, had to make it up.”

“You? As if.” You scoff as you lay out the feathery duvet and place the pillow atop it, a makeshift bed you don’t think will be big enough for Loki’s lanky height, “I owe you for the leeway on rent.”

“One week, come on,” he says as he peeks in beside Loki, the two of them watching you make-up the floor, “you sure we can't pay for a cab, buddy?”

“Save your money, I can bear a few aches,” Loki affirms.

You finish up and stand as it goes silent. You look up at them as they stare each other down. They are two very different types, you’ve noticed the tension before. You sigh into a yawn.

“Well, I am pooped,” you announce, “so, bedtime?”

“Oh, certainly,” Loki enters, “as you say, pooped.”

“You have a good night you two,” Steve says, “don’t be staying up till morning telling scary stories.”

“You’re stupid,” you roll your eyes at him.

“Nighty night,” he winks and flips the light off before shutting the door.

You blink through the darkness as your vision slowly adjusts. You exclaim as Loki scares you, walking into you in the shadows. You giggle as he apologises and steps back.

“No problem,” you say and go to the bed, cautiously climbing onto the mattress.

You tuck yourself under the blankets and you squint as you watch his hazy form lower onto the floor. He exhales as he lays on his back. You close your eyes, slightly wired from the unexpected company.

“So… when are you getting a place of your own?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve been here a while and you’re doing better… I only thought it was inevitable.”

“Oh, I guess. I’ve been so busy I didn’t have time to think of it, I guess,” you keep your eyes shut. “Well, just another thing to figure out.”

“Ah,” he clucks, “well, my place is much bigger so even if you’re just looking for more space…”

“Oh, Loki, I couldn’t,” you wiggle and turn over, “but I appreciate the offer,” you yawn again, “besides, it’s too late to worry about all that.”

💚

You feel the bed shift, not quite awake or asleep. Stuck in the middling purgatory of subconscious restlessness. You hear yourself snort and grumble but don’t reach the surface of wakefulness.

A warmth snakes around you, a soft squeeze on your chest, more fervent as you cling to your pillow. A plucking as a twinge nestles at the base of your spine. A tickle along your stomach and the cool air of the room wafting beneath the warm layers.

A firm brush along your waist, the squeeze of elastic sliding down your legs. A groan as you’re turned onto your back, one leg parted from the other. The heat of a soft palm against you, long fingers delving like tendrils between your folds. Twirling and twisting your nerves into a knot as your breath hitches.

Your eyes open in shock at the realisation. It isn’t a dream. You grumble and look over. The blankets on the floor are messy but the figure is gone. You turn back and watch Loki as he hushes you, his hand buried between your thighs as you push them together.

“We’re best friends, aren’t we?” he coos, “and best friends would do anything for each other.”

[wishitweresummer]

- Dream Team Camping Trip -

Just some fun tickle shenanigans that would totally go down if those goofballs went on a camping trip together. Please share your thoughts and headcannons and any scenarios you have and everything please please, your interactions give me life.

Fishing- The boys all fishing and George finds it unbearably boring. He keeps blabbing on about nonsense and the other two keep shushing him and telling him to shut up. Dream and Sapnap explain they need to be quiet so they don't scare the fish away. George realizes he can ruin and end the boring fishing trip and have fun at the expense of his friends with one tactic. Of course he is sat between them on the little wooden dock. He tickles Sapnap, but he just keeps huffing and shoving him. Sapnap can be pretty good at holding in his laughter when he needs to be stubborn. Fearing he'll tumble down into the lake, George backs off. He tickles Dream and gets a few good loud laughs out of him, but the two catch on to what he’s doing pretty quickly. They pin him down together and make him scream with laughter, definitively ruining the fishing trip, but not letting George get any satisfaction out of it.

Sleeping Bag- Sapnap forgot his sleeping bag so the others give him extra blankets. George tries to be helpful and rolls him up in multiple blankets so he can get the sleeping bag experience like the other two. Things get way out of hand when they decide to tickle him and now he's trapped. Sapnap's head in Dream's lap as he shrieks and laughs helplessly. Dream plays with his soft curls and enjoys the show, not getting to see Sapnap wrecked very often. George got rid of the socks quickly and went all in on tickling both of Sapnap's feet, getting way too into it since he never gets to tickle his feet. Poor Sapnap.

Sunscreen- They want to have a lake day and hang out by the water, but George refuses to put sunscreen on. "Please George you hardly go outside! Your pale skin will burn up the second the sun hits it!", they cry. Dream holds him down and rubs sunscreen on him against his will, also tickles him senseless. Sapnap watches on in horror at the uncomfortable scene.

Campfire Stories- Telling scary stories around the campfire but the stories keep ending in "...and then it tickled Dream!!!". The poor boy eventually just giggling in anticipation through-out every story and still somehow getting surprised every time. Squirming on his log as he wheezes and regrets sitting between his two best friends. George's giant brown eyes look downright evil with the fire reflecting against them. They have so much fun making up ridiculous ways to get every story to wind up with them digging their fingers into Dream’s sides. He just keeps falling for it! Probably had too many s’mores.

Flashlight Tag- The boys playing flashlight tag through the forest at night. Constantly jumping out from behind trees and scaring each other. The punishment for being caught didn’t start out as being tickles, but George tickling Sapnap the first time he caught him caused it to be added quickly to the rules. The dark forest being lit up by beams of flashlights and chaotic screams and laughter.

Bear Attack- Dream and George cuddling in the tent when they get a second alone while Sapnap goes off to pee. It’s so cute, all cuddly and giggly. But, Sapnap pranks them epic-ly by growling and shaking the tent. Of course, they think it’s a bear and are hilariously terrified. Once they hear Sapnap’s glee from outside they drag him into the tent against his will and tickle the absolute muffin out of him together.

Fireflies- The boys running through the forest clearing at dawn trying to catch fireflies. George has never seen one before since they aren’t that common where he’s from and they want him to experience the magic. They only had two jars so Dream goes jar-less for the good of the group. (What a guy.) He’s the first to catch one in his cupped hands and sits down, the others crowd in close to see the cute little lightning bug. Instead they find Dream all giggles and shaking shoulders, the little bug tickling his palms. The other two melt at the sight and Sapnap offers his jar. They guide the little bug of light into the jar and watch it, George especially captivated by it’s magic. They can’t help but to poke and prod more giggles from Dream into the night. Words like “tickle bug” and “giggle bug” are suddenly littering their teases. Sweet giggling under the sky as night approaches.

[seeminglydark]

hai! I just binged all of seemingly dark last night :0 its sooooo good omg i am so excited to keep up with it. and all the characters are so fun! not to mention scary things that go bump in the night ugh its got it all. i love mick sm oh my poor boy i hope he can get a break sometime soonish (though its not looking too good for him atm ngl). ugh and rose!! and her dynamic with A?!?! "i just dont like his dog..." shivers!!! fantastic. also reggie being like dying wont stop me from being a father figure (except with caro instead of rose obv) but still wahh him and mick make me go all D': though - will there be / is there more of their story to read? i love them even though it breaks my heart :0 anywho there is my gush, i love your story (also i am currently trying to write a podcast abt ghosts and human connection for a class so also like... jotting down notes lol)

im so tickled pink about this ask cuz i love love love caro and john but mick and reggie are my original otp and i love them dearly. First things first, thank you for reading!! I'm so glad to hear your enjoying it, ahhhh it made me so so happy to get this! second, yes there is more actually, if you havent found it yet, on Tapas there is a 'secret' comic i dont talk much about cuz its old and badly drawn called 'Call Me Mickey,' and its Mick and Reg's MeetCute. if you have found that already, never fear, Mick is technically the main character of SD, so even though ive gotten a bit off course lately, there is a lot more to tell about him, reggie and where things will go from here. they are both really important major players, and im excited to get into more of them, this chapter actually! so keep an eye out <3 (that podcast sounds really cool! if you share it, let me know id love to listen!)

heres an older art of their first huge irl, cuz they met online!

[cantsaythetword]

TickleTober Day 2: Scary Stories (Avengers/Spiderman)

~A/N  - DAY TWOOOOOOOOO 👻👻👻 Hope y'all are feeling spoooooooooky!

This one is our first anon prompt:

#2 (scary stories), with Lee Peter and Ler avengers?

Maybe the group is telling a scary story and (Peter 1) gets nervous so the group tries to make him feel less anxious?

Super cute and I soooooo love Lee Peter especially with group tickles like it's adorable! I hope this is the kind of thing you were after!

- Enoy! ~

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Masterpost Link || TickleTober 2022 Masterpost Link

"She screamed!" Tony shouted dramatically. "The poor dog lay gutted on the floor. And written on the wall in front of her, in it's dripping red blood - 'Humans Can Lick Too'."

There were gasps around the room, Bucky jokingly clinging to Steve in fear.

Thor chuckled, applauding. "Incredibly hair-raising, well done Stark!"

Tony shrugged. "More where that came from!"

Nothing was better for the October vibe than a spooky story night in the dark. Circled around the snack table, the group were huddled next to each other in the dim lamplight.

"Who's next?" Bucky grinned. "Or should I remind us of the terror of the Hook man?"

While Sam wasn't usually one to tell ghost stories in the dark, it was him who spoke up.

"I've got one." He smirked playfully, winking at the boy next to him.

What the others didn't notice during Tony's story, was Peter Parker huddled against the arm of the couch like a scared puppy. Clearly he wasn't a huge fan of the scary tales, and was definitely finding the whole experience less than enjoyable. But Sam was about to change that.

"One night, a young man was staying alone in a small cabin." Sam began, eager eyes watching him ready to be spooked. "There was nobody around for miles, just thick dark woodland."

Clint rolled his eyes. "It's always a cabin in the woods."

A soft giggle broke free from Peter's mouth, making Sam smile before he continued. "He heard a rustling outside, but considering he was in the middle of a dense forest, he thought little of it."

Already knowing exactly where he would take this, and part of him wondering how long it would take the wide-eyed teen to notice, Sam adjusted his legs underneath him to bring himself closer to Peter.

"Then it happened again. Louder. Closer."

He slowed his speech towards the end, pausing for effect.

"He got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom." Sam continued. "He checked the closet, the bathroom, the kitchen, and out the living room window before climbing back under the covers."

By this point, everyone was hooked. Hanging off each word he spoke like it was pure gold. Even Natasha's eyes were wide. Sam internally laughed, as she had initially mentioned how scary stories just don't do anything to her any more.

"He heard twigs crunching outside. Not quite footsteps, but human-like all the same."

Peter was beginning to dig his nails into his palm. If Sam didn't know what was coming he would have resolved the story then and there, changing the topic to something a little more light-hearted. But of course, he had other plans to cheer up the teen.

"Once again he got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom. He checked the closet, the bathroom, the kitchen, and out the living room window before climbing back under the covers."

Sam leaned from side to side as he listed each location, as if looking through different areas himself.

"Then," His voice became sharp, almost foreboding, "Something thudded into the foliage outside."

Sam banged his hands against the floor, making Bucky jump. The group let out a few snickers at the usually stone-faced soldier's reaction.

"The immediate eerie silence following led the man to realise this was no mere woodland animal. Someone, or something, was watching him." Sam let his eyes scan the room, staring into the eyes of his friends. "He quietly got out of bed and slowly walked out of the bedroom. He checked the closet, the bathroom, the kitchen, and out the living room window."

Sam could see Peter's knuckles growing whiter by the second as he gripped the side of the couch. Almost there kid, hold it together.

"But before he finally clambered back under the covers, he felt a chill blow over his face. A breeze." He paused, relishing in the tense atmosphere surrounding him. "Coming from the wide open window in front of him."

Gasps echoed around the room - not just from the poor teen Sam was trying to help.

"He froze, only able to swivel his eyes around the room." Sam copied the actions, hands in front of him like a peering statue. "Looking for anything that could possibly be out of place."

Even Sam's heart was beating faster now, the adrenaline of building the climax of the story was almost too much to contain.

"He looked to the doorway, the corners, under the desk, behind the bookshelf."

Sam turned his head with each word, legs changing to a half-kneeling position.

"Alas, the more he looked, the less he found."

He took a breath. Gently moving his body closer to the unsuspecting Peter.

"Relieved, he sat on the mattress, letting his eyes settle into the dark cupboard. Trying to fully convince his subconscious that it was in fact just coats inside."

Peter relaxed slightly - partially due to the fact that Tony had shuffled a little closer to the teen, and that Sam was on his other side. Subtle enough that few would notice, but the gesture seemed to put Peter almost completely at ease.

Not for long.

"The young man couldn't think for long, for a strong, wiry limb gripped his leg!" Sam cried, grabbing onto Peter's outstretched leg, "and yanked him onto the floor!"

Peter yelped as Sam pulled him onto his back, nervous breaths turning to relieved laughter as his brain caught up with the last 3 seconds of movement.

"The poor man let out a scream as the monster in front of him raised it's limbs-!" He roared, mimicking the story. "Unleashing a brutal tickle attack!"

"NO!" Peter squeaked, crashing his arms against his sides in a pitiful attempt to stop Sam.

Not that it worked.

"SAHAHAHAHAM!" The poor boy giggled helplessly, writhing in Sam's firm tickle-vice.

Tony smirked at the pair, offering his own hands to help Sam tear Peter to pieces.

With Tony at his neck and Sam wrecking his ribs, all it took was Steve and Clint taking a leg each for Peter to be royally screwed.

Within minutes the poor kid was begging his attackers to let up. Sam pinching and prodding his ribs and stomach like a tickly piano was just too intense, especially when Nat decided to dance those demonic fingernails across his bare stomach.

Finally, they released him. Peter gasped for air, face red and a bright grin still plastered across his cheeks.

"And that is the terrifying tale-" Sam grinned down at Peter,

"-of the Tickle Monster."

[your-divine-ribs]

Halloween Headcanons (Dad Van)

Words: 600

I know it’s nowhere near Halloween but I have loads of seasonal Dad Van headcanons I need to post… 🎃

Dad Van Masterlist Main Masterlist

🎃 You've always loved Halloween, and things haven't changed as you've grown up, even now you're married with your own family.

🎃 Van, on the other hand, thinks it's a daft tradition. "What? You're actually expecting me to dress up in a costume? Never in a million years!"

🎃 Cue your daughter Grace making puppy dog eyes at him and pouting. "Daddy, you're no fun at all. All my friends' daddies are dressing up! We have to take photos for school and there's a competition!"

🎃 Van's ears prick up at the mention of competition. "Well we can't have someone else winning now, can we?"

🎃 Within minutes Grace has her face-paints out and you're stifling a laugh at Van's horrified reaction which he's trying his hardest to hide. "Go easy on me eh, Gracie!"

🎃 "I think I'm going to make you a vampire daddy! I think you'd look good as a vampire!"

🎃 No surprise Van does look rather good as a vampire... (maybe he can keep the fake fangs on for later)

🎃 You dress up as Dracula's bride and you keep having to swat Van away when he's pretending to bite your neck because it's so ticklish.

🎃 For saying Van was grumpy about Halloween he acts like a big kid for the rest of the day.

🎃 Larry comes round for pumpkin carving but you have to confiscate the carving tools as him and Van are sniggering like naughty school-kids, carving inappropriate etchings on to the pumpkins.

🎃 You're not sure who's more excited about trick or treating - Van or Grace.

🎃 He properly gets into character and you have to tell him to calm it down in case he frightens the little ones.

🎃 Van wants to carry on even when Grace is getting tired, then he complains of a belly ache as he's eaten too many trick or treat sweeties.

🎃 Grace ends up falling asleep in Van's arms on the way home but wakes up just as you're both putting her into bed.

🎃 "Daddy I'm too scared to go to sleep because of all the monsters!"

🎃 Van gives her a big hug. "Monsters aren't real darlin', it's all just made up stories."

🎃 "But I think there's one that lives under my bed!"

🎃 Van carries out a thorough investigation of Grace's bedroom with her, under the bed, in the wardrobe, behind the toy boxes. "What did I tell ya Gracie? There's no monsters in this house. And even if there were, I'd scare 'em all away for ya!"

🎃 "But Daddy, you're not scary!"

🎃 Van pulls his best monster face and tickles her until she's a giggling mess.

🎃 "C'mon now, it's time for sleep little one..."

🎃 "Please sing me a song, it helps me go to sleep!" Van sings softly to her and strokes her hair until her eyes flutter shut and it melts your heart seeing them together like this.

🎃 Drinking hot spiced apple cider together and snuggling up whilst you watch scary movies when Grace has finally fallen to sleep.

🎃 "C'mon love, cuddle up to me a bit closer... I don't want you to get too scared..."

🎃 You're not scared at all but you think Van might be by the number of times he's jumped and flinched throughout the horror film.

🎃 Trying to outdo each other, telling spooky ghost stories before you go to bed until you're both freaked out and your skin's prickling with goosebumps.

🎃 "We'd better keep the hallway light on tonight... ya know, just for Gracie... in case she wakes up scared of the dark..."

🎃 You just smirk at him. "Oh, are you sure that's just for Grace, Van?"