emmasure-blog

[travellingwiththedead]

Ok, so I decided to finally catch up with the His Dark Materials series and I'm near the end of s2 and some stuff is just kinda icky...or maybe that's just me.

It's been ages since I read the books and I don't remember how it was there but: were the books making as big a deal of the difference between children and adults in regard to "sin"? Like the show makes it out like in Lyra's world as soon as a child hits puberty the adults just go "you're a sinner now". Also how /do/ they actually differentiate between child and adult? Puberty's a whole process, takes years. Hell, your brain isn't out of puberty until you're like in your 20s.

Also all the misogyny in Lyra's world is just pissing me off but I hope that's intentional xD

(Edit: Oh but I do love Ruth Wilson, she's fab)

[sexy-sapphic-sorcerer]

jesus fuck the BBC4 Sherlock Holmes radio dramas are gay

I mean, I heard Mary accuse Watson of marrying her "under false pretence" while his heart belongs to Holmes

I heard Holmes and Watson reciting Tristan and Isolde to each other about "existing only in each other, wrapped in love"

but Watson being so scared to tell Holmes that someone wrote a play about him where he's straight! "you're not angry? it's hardly in character"

insane. hilarious. iconic.

[mochiwrites]

gentle touch of morning

( a small scarian epic au piece <3 reblogs do more than likes! )

It’s funny. 

Over the twelve long years Scar spent fighting, leading his men into battle, the thought that kept him going was his eventual homecoming. Every waking thought was of his husband and son, and Scar’s reason for living, for breathing, was his family. As he sailed rocky waters, faced monsters and gods alike, lost men after men, Scar wished for nothing more than to be home, to awake with his husband sleeping beside him. 

But as he stands in his home, the one he most intimately knows, Scar feels… wrong. Out of place. He’d woken up early, savoring the sight of Grian’s sleeping face (he could never get tired of it), and felt so restless that staying in bed for any longer seemed impossible. So Scar took to walking around his home. 

He and Grian built this place up, together. The memories are some that Scar looks back on fondly. He could never forget it, no matter how much time he spent away from it. Scar only fears that it has forgotten him. 

Scar takes easy steps, walking and reacquainting himself. He notes the pictures, most of them being of his son. He hardly sees Grian in any of them, perhaps one or two, less than a handful. And the ones that Grian is in, his smile doesn’t light up his face. It makes Scar frown. 

He wanders for a bit, traversing each winding hallway with careful movements. It’s as if he fears the house may collapse at any moment, or some attacker may jump from the shadows, perhaps a god will catch him off guard and finish him off. Not even in his home does he feel the full safety he’s supposed to. These walls feel foreign, unfamiliar. Even if he can picture everything clearly in his mind, knows this place like the back of his hand. Scar still feels like a stranger. 

Eventually, he finds himself in the kitchen. He pauses in the doorway, catching sight of another person. 

His son. 

His little Pitta. 

Well, not as little anymore, as a young boy at fourteen. But to Scar it still feels like he’s just an infant that he could cradle in his arms. Another thing time robbed him of. So many missed moments, opportunities, to watch his son grow. And while Scar knows that there are still many years to come, to see, a piece of him mourns the time he lost.

For a moment, Scar keeps quiet. He watches his son, taking in his dark brown hair and hazel colored eyes. He’s the striking image of both Scar and Grian somehow, even if they aren’t related to him. But Scar loves him all the same; would move mountains to give him whatever he needed. He can’t help but wonder what kind of person his son is, what he likes and dislikes. Does he resent Scar for leaving? Does he consider Scar his father, or a stranger who left a loving husband alone for years on end? He doesn’t want to find out. Not now. 

Scar stands there until he can’t anymore, finding hazel eyes landing on him. He watches the way in which Pitta’s eyes light up, turning all shiny and bright when he notices his father. He turns away from the counter, abandoning the slices of bread he had taken out. He smiles, and gods, does his smile look like Grian’s. “Papa!” Pitta greets, the timbre of his voice cheerful and soft. 

“Hey, Pitta,” Scar returns, heart melting each time he’s reminded that he’s finally returned home. He never thought it would happen, that maybe it’d take him longer, or maybe something would strike him down on the way back. But against all odds, fourteen years, and Scar is home. His son stands in front of him. 

“What’re you doing awake? Is dad up too?” Pitta questions, raising a brow at him. 

“Uh…” Scar blanks, unsure of what to say. It’s not like he’s going to tell the truth, Pitta shouldn’t have to worry about him. Scar has already caused him enough pain, there’s no need to cause more now that he’s actually here. “Gria— your dad’s still asleep,” he stammers. The words feel awkward on his tongue, like they shouldn’t be there. This life of domesticity… he doesn’t know how to go about it. It isn’t just some enemy he can cut down. 

The very thought makes him nauseous. 

“Oh!” Pitta blinks at the response. “Well, that’s… good.” He nods to himself awkwardly, and Scar hides a grimace. 

He… really doesn’t know how to interact with his son. 

There’s this dark curdling of doubt in his mind that begins to creep up, settling over him. He’s afraid. Worried that this is one thing he’ll never overcome. It’s a familiar feeling, an old friend, a once enemy turned begrudging shadow. It’s a feeling he experienced in battle, traversing home, taking his castle back from scoundrels that dare to stain it. But there is a new fear that joins it, overwhelming like a tidal wave. 

Does he even know how to be a father? 

Scar feels his breath sharpen just a tad, skipping a beat and hastening. He can feel hands curling around his throat, beginning to press into his skin. He feels it tightening on him, the grip firm. The pressure starts off as something light, until the fingers of Fear dig deeper with each shakingly quiet breath. It gets stronger and stronger, straining his lungs until he can feel his throat being squeezed, choked. 

“Papa?” Pitta’s voice breaks him from the spiraling thoughts, from the overwhelming fear sneaking in. 

The hands around his neck relax, and the terror recedes, sinking back into the depths of his mind momentarily. He allows himself a moment to breathe, a chance to suck in a soft breath and recenter. His vision clears, and he becomes aware of the way his heartbeat pounds in his ears, loud like a drum. 

He manages a smile, “I’m uh, gonna go check and see if our Sleeping Beauty is awake.” Keeping his eyes trained on his son, Scar tries to maintain his light smile. He takes a few small steps back, slipping into a casual mask. He’s gotten quite good at it over the years of putting on a brave face. “Be right back.”

Pitta watches him, brows creasing in concern as he goes. “Oh… okay,” he answers, sounding resigned as Scar retreats. 

Scar turns around, and brings himself back to the beautiful olive tree where his Grian is fast asleep. The sun shines down on him, cutting through the green leaves. The light spills into their bed, painting a halo in the soft yet sandy blond locks of Grian’s hair. He rests in their bed, eyes shut and face relaxed. His body is curled somewhat, the blanket tucked just over his shoulders. 

Staring at him, taking in the near angelic sight, Scar takes a few breaths to calm himself. He walks over to their bed, sitting down on the edge, right beside Grian. He contents himself with just sitting there, watching the rise and fall of Grian’s chest. It feels a little easier to breathe, with the love of his life right here, peaceful. Scar can almost allow himself to pretend he lives in a world where he never went to war, where he never had to leave his family behind. He can almost allow himself to pretend he was the husband and father he should have been. 

Chest aching and overflowing with doubt and regret, Scar reaches out. Tenderly, Scar brushes some of Grian’s hair away from his face. He ever so softly tangles his fingers in the silky strands as he rhythmically cards through his hair. Scar’s expression softens, chest swelling with love for the man before him. He drags the pads of his fingertips along Grian’s head, feeling the soft locks under his touch. 

He can’t imagine what it was like, doing so much alone for so long. Scar has always believed Grian to be strong, the strongest person he knows. But this? Scar doesn’t think anyone could compare, not even the gods. 

Not in the way it matters, at least. 

His thumb idly strokes Grian’s cheekbone, loving and sweet. “I’d be lost without you, my light,” he murmurs. Because it’s true. Scar would’ve given up a long, long time ago if he didn’t have Grian and Pitta to come home to. Grian is his rock, his eye of the storm, his compass. Scar is caught within Grian’s orbit, forever wrapped up in him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for this man. Grian kept their home in one piece. He raised their son. He handled whatever it was that Scar couldn’t in his time away. Grian held out hope for fourteen years that Scar would come back to him. 

Scar owes him everything and more. But most importantly, Scar owes him his love. And by the gods will he offer every last ounce of it, every drop. Scar is a man. No general, and certainly no hero. He is just a man who wants to pour his heart and soul out for his spouse. Scar is just a man in love. 

Beneath his touch, Grian’s face twitches, and he begins to stir. “Mmm… Scar?” he mumbles, still groggy and waking up. 

“Good morning, my love.” Scar smiles at him, brushing away a particular curl of hair before stroking his cheek. “Sleep well?”

“‘ink so, yes. It was warm with you,” Grian answers, leaning into the hand on his cheek. “What’re you awake for?” 

Scar pauses, if only briefly. “Uh, well, y’know. Just admiring my pretty husband while I have the chance,” he answers, which isn’t entirely a lie. 

Grian looks at him with clear suspicion, but doesn’t push. Instead, he sighs quietly as pushes himself to sit up. “You can do that when I’m awake too,” he teases, leaning to press their lips together. Scar is more than happy to sink into it, using the hand on Grian’s cheek to angle his head slightly, deepening it. The kiss is sweet, loving. It’s slow and patient, carrying the patience of fourteen years within it.

When they pull away, Scar rests their foreheads together. “I guess I can, yeah,” he agrees softly. “Mind if I take a few more minutes to admire him?” 

Grian smiles, kissing the corner of his mouth in return. “I suppose.”  Scar simply smiles, and gods is he happy to be home. No amount of fear could ever leave him unhappy to be back with the loves of his life. Never. 

[ingravinoveritas]

"The boy did good" is so possessive yet so incredibly fond--that perfect mix of heartfelt and horny that I first noticed in 2019 and that is so characteristically, thoroughly Michael. That combination of something classic and timeless--because love never goes out of style--with something modern and different. Michael showing his heart without a moment's hesitation.

And then just to make sure we didn't overlook the horny part, he threw in "And he looks good in a kilt as well, doesn't he?" as a chaser. As if to say, "Oh, you thought this was me complimenting my buddy on a job well done? No, this is me saying that my boyfriend looked fucking hot in a kilt." Just to remind us of exactly who Michael Sheen is (like we could ever forget).

Well done, Michael. Well done indeed...

[llamagoddessofficial]

Evil mc…but prison au? 👀

The cell block is her dance hall, and all the boys want to tango. Since she's a villain I'm assuming she's a fellow inmate.

Sans: Her eyes and ears in the prison... her unassuming spy who learns everyone's business and funnels it straight to her. Evil Mc being Evil Mc, she's probably found a way to place herself in the lower-risk prison block- perhaps convincing the prison board that she's at risk of being attacked if she's in the main cells. Perhaps Sans did the manipulation for her to get her more freedoms. Either way, she and her right hand man get a lot of quality time together.

... Sans likes having someone who knows the truth about how fucked up he is from the very beginning. She saw through him from the start. He doesn't have to pretend to be goofy, harmless, he doesn't have to wear a smiling mask; she knows exactly how dangerous he is and she likes it. It feels good to be alone together... to have someone with which he can completely drop the act.

Red: They still have that on-and-off highly flirtatious relationship that they have in the regular villain AU. He's just as devoted as before, he can't get enough of her, and she can't get enough of him either- he likes the danger. She likes his claws.

... Rather than being her ogeneral, he's more of a... bodyguard/supplier/willing boytoy. He keeps her safe if she ever ends up in the main prison population, he twists the guards' arms into doing what she wants, and he constantly delivers her a stream of any banned goods she needs (no questions asked). She respects the chokehold he has on the prison population and doesn't try to disrupt his command like another villain might- ironically, it means he now wants to give it to her willingly. It puts her in a position of massive power.

In a way, it does actually mirror the general and his superior. The army just happens to be the population of the prison.

Skull: Skull is less like her personal guard, and more like a personal bomb.

The fits of rage Skull enters when separated from Mc are something to behold. The prison, reluctantly, allow Skull and Mc a lot of time together- anything to get him to stop killing. Though he's muzzled and bound he still follows her everywhere like a lost dog, ready to take off the fingers of anyone who gets close; she happily feeds his obsessive connection to her, she's very doting and loving with him. The constant stream of attention actually leaves him in a stable enough state of mind to hold slow conversations, and forge alliances with the other two skeletons- it's easy to find common ground over their shared desire to be with her and keep her safe.

It's not dramatic to say he'd do anything for her. The moment she asks him to, he'd kill anyone, he'd break anything, he'd lay down mid-rampage, he'd start a riot. Anything she asks. Many 'incidents' of death or dismemberment chalked up to Skull just being insane were actually direct commands from Mc... though 'command' is a pretty harsh way of putting it.

All she did was ask softly, and kiss his cheekbone. That's all he needed.

[hedgehog-moss]

Today was Baby Poldine’s first day of school ! The idea for now is just to get her used to being in a narrow enclosed area without getting stressed, and pet her everywhere while she’s in there to desensitise her (especially her head & legs), so she can start wearing a halter next month.

People who were here in 2019 might remember that this simple gentle curriculum didn’t work very well with Baby Pampe. No amount of nothing happening while stuck in a small enclosed area ever made Pampe accept the concept of small enclosed area. It just made her more determined to escape. One of my posts about this ended with:

This didn’t make me worry too much about Poldine’s education, because by now I’ve accepted that you can’t use Pampérigouste as an indication of how llamas in general behave. Getting Poldine to enter the chute was incredibly easy in comparison to her mum! She saw that her hay net was here and trustingly went up to it—while Pampe was standing outside the corral like

Shhhh.

Poldine was quite stressed in the beginning, her little legs were shaking and she folded herself up like a caterpillar trying to find an exit—

—but at no point did it occur to her to jump over any fences, because that’s wrong. Once she stopped squirming I gave her a treat and then petted her for a bit. She was very tense, poor thing, and making anxious little hums.

It’s raining and you’re soggy and smell like wet goat. This isn’t fun for either of us.

She was clearly wondering what horrible thing was about to happen to her, and then I opened the chute and let her back up and out of it and she was looking around like “That’s it...?” She even got distracted from her initial project to get the hell away from here, when she realised her breakfast was still there. (Baby Pampe never would have let food distract her from freedom.)

To congratulate her for remaining in the corral a couple more minutes than she strictly had to, she got an extra clementine peel that was meant for Pirlouit.

Still, she ran to her mum as soon as she was out of the corral and tried to nurse for comfort. The chute was a little bit scary. (And Pampe was like no, we’ve got hay right here, are you kidding me.)

Pampoldine took the rebuff philosophically. She didn’t look very traumatised by llama school, unlike Pampe who was extra annoying and elopey on days when she had to spend 5 min in the chute. Baby Poldine looked almost proud of herself !

Also unlike Pampe who sulked and avoided me for a while after every lesson, Poldine followed me when I went to give my last clementine peeling to Pirlouit, and tried to argue that she was more deserving of it.

And finally, when I looked back on my way home I saw that all the animals were outside the corral finishing the hay, except Poldine who had gone back inside all by herself and was curiously examining the chute she was stuck in 10 min before, like “what was that about”

So, a very positive first lesson! Poldine was such a good girl, and the drastic contrast with 2019 is another confirmation of what all of us already suspected (Pampe is Pampe.)

[mushiewrites]

Attack of The Blobs

helloooo! I have been working on like 6 fics at once, but the other night @wishitweresummer, @fluffallamaful + I were just yelling about ideas and summer said "what about george just being tickled by a hundred dream blobs?" and my brain immediately just....spit whatever this is out. I feel like it's paced slightly different from how I normally pace things, but I think I like how it turned out???? so yeah, anyways, enjoy :D

(lee!george / ler!blobs : 1.7K words)

warning: intense tickles

The scream that George let out should’ve alerted his two roommates, but unfortunately for him, there was no one coming to save him. He squirmed harshly on his bed, twisting and turning, kicking and shoving, trying his best to get away from the tiny white blobs that were covering his entire body. He felt a bite to his ribs and cried out again, making a move to bring his arm down to shove the small blob away from the sensitive area. To his horror, multiple blobs threw themselves over the flailing limb, pushing it down into the bed and raising it above his head, now leaving more of his ticklish torso exposed to additional torture. 

“NOHOHOHO!” George pleaded, his voice bouncing off the white walls of his room. He cracked open his eyes in time to see one of the smaller blobs wobbling it’s way up from his waist, diving under his arm and vibrating its body as fast as it could. This sent George into a fit of hysterics, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes closed, trying his hardest to dislodge his arm from the little creatures without success. “P-PLEHEHEASE, DON’T!”

George wasn’t even sure they could understand him - he sure as hell didn’t understand their little chirps and jingles as they communicated with each other. He didn’t know where they had come from, or when they got here. He could only remember the tickles, coming in quick waves as they took their places around his body, taking turns holding down different parts of him as they tickled him senseless. His eyes were wet with tears from his hysterics and his brain was mush from the nonstop tickling, keeping him in a never ending loop of squeals and screams. His voice was hoarse from all the pleading he was doing, unable to stop himself from begging for mercy, even though they hadn’t shown him any. 

“NOT THERE! NOT THEHEHERE!” He wailed as multiple blobs climbed onto his torso, headbutting roughly into his overly sensitive ribs and vibrating themselves there, following the lead of the blob that was still perfectly tucked in the center of his armpit. They targeted the soft muscle between each bone, sliding up and down the area to make sure no spot was left untouched. His chest heaved with every quick breath he tried to inhale, slapping his free arm against the bed and attempting to push some of the blobs away. 

However, when he went to reach down, his arm was tackled once more, this time with two blobs holding his fingers down against the bed while another nibbled at the middle of his palm. George screamed at the tickly feeling, throwing his head back and mistakenly offering his neck to more curious creatures. The sensitive skin under his chin was compromised immediately, a blob occupying the spot and nibbling there while two blobs blew tiny raspberries on either side of his neck. George was unable to shake his head as more and more blobs appeared, biting at his ears and nuzzling into his cheeks. A sudden vibration against his collarbone sent him into another round of laughter, feeling as two tiny blobs made their home in the dips there. 

Another scream ripped from his throat as one of the bigger blobs made its way under his other arm, crawling up George’s sleeve to begin nibbling and kissing and blowing raspberries around the area. The boy was in hysterics, gripping the sheets of the bed with the hand that wasn’t being attacked in an attempt to try and dispel the ticklish feeling that was coursing through his entire body, but it was proven to be pointless when he felt a blob make its way under his shirt and over his tummy. It quickly burrowed itself over George’s belly button, vibrating and wiggling there to make George shriek. He kicked his legs in flustered frustration when he felt tiny nibbles over his hip bones, his laughter breaking into brief bouts of silence as he laughed even harder. 

The kicking only seemed to draw their attention to the area, with more blobs seemingly appearing out of nowhere and jumping onto his thighs and shins. When the blobs began to nibble and vibrate into George’s extremely ticklish inner thighs, with no protection from the thin black shorts he was wearing, his laughter jumped an octave and he felt the tears finally spill as he squeezed his eyes impossibly tighter. It only grew worse when a few of the little blobs squirmed their way under his knees, attacking the backs of them with ease. He couldn’t think of anything other than how badly it tickled, and how incredibly helpless he felt. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before - completely defenseless, taken over by tickles. 

“NAHAHA- NOHO PLE-PLEHEASE!” George begged through his hysterics in another attempt to get their attention, whining when he was ignored again in favor of making their way to his feet. It felt as if a million little blobs were nibbling every inch of them, unable to move or curl his toes with the pressure of how many were surrounding them. He screamed in horror as he flung his eyes open, watching as the tiniest blobs wormed their way into his socks and up between his toes, spinning and vibrating their bodies and driving him absolutely insane. Just when he thought that the tickles couldn’t possibly get worse, a few of the smaller blobs that didn’t fit into George’s socks migrated their way up to his torso, easily sliding under his shirt and going for the back of his ribs, right where George was most ticklish. 

George let out a blood-curdling scream as his most sensitive spots were tortured with no end in sight. The tears kept flowing as he yanked uselessly at his arms and legs, all the strength he previously had zapped away with the amount of tickling that he was enduring. His face was bright red and his chest felt like it was on fire, ready to explode at any second as he struggled more and more to catch his breath. He let out one last shriek as he made another attempt at escaping, and suddenly everything stopped.

He sat up quickly in his bed, a hand clutched to his chest as he looked around with wide eyes in the dark. George felt himself breathing heavily, the panic from the previous events still fresh in his mind as he tried his best to ground himself. He realized his room was dark and turned to grab his phone off his desk, checking the time - 2:30AM. George flipped the desk lamp on, quickly turning towards the shuffling coming from beside and finding Dream lying next to him. Dream was rubbing at his eyes, clearly woken up by the sudden movement and brightness of the light. After a second he squinted up at George, sitting up himself and reaching a hand out to place on his shoulder. 

“George…? What’s going on? You were making a lot of noise, like you were struggling. What’s happening?” Dream asked with urgency as he noticed the panic written all over his face. He pulled George in for a hug, squeezing tight and allowing the older boy to melt into him. 

“Nothing, I just…I just had a nightmare.” 

“A nightmare? Do you wanna talk about it?” 

The question made George’s cheeks heat up immediately, thankful that his blushing face was hidden deep into Dream’s shoulder. He shook his head and clung to Dream even tighter, too flustered to even entertain the idea of telling him that his nightmare was actually about being tickle tortured by hundreds of Dream blobs. 

“No no, it’s okay. Let’s just…let’s just go back to sleep.” George slowly unwrapped himself from the blonde a few minutes later, quickly moving to turn off the light to prevent Dream from seeing the redness of his cheeks. He watched as Dream made himself comfy again, laying down under the blankets and fluffing George’s pillow for him before he inched his way back under the covers himself. He curled into Dream’s arms, letting his head slip under the blonde’s chin, just the way they both liked it. The silence was comforting, and he could feel himself getting calmer by the second as he listened to the sound of Dream’s breathing. His eyelids were growing heavier the more he allowed himself to relax, almost falling asleep completely before letting out a yelp when a finger poked lightly into his side.

“You know, you were laughing in your nightmare,” Dream teased quietly, his finger wiggling against George’s bottom rib when he poked into the sensitive spot again. He let out a quick stream of air from his nose when George squealed at that, hiding deeper into Dream’s neck with a whine. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were being tortured with tickles.” 

George whined against Dream’s neck, making the blonde break out into bright giggles at the tickly vibration it made. He giggled harder when a small hand found its way to his tummy, scribbling for a few seconds and making the younger boy squirm as George tickled him. 

“If you wanna survive the night I suggest you shut up, idiot.” George threatened, words slightly muffled from his place in the crook of Dream’s neck. Dream rolled his eyes as he grabbed the tickling hand, lacing their fingers together and bringing it up to his lips to give it a quick kiss. 

“Fine, you big baby.” Dream let out a fake sigh of disappointment, placing a kiss against the top of George’s head when he hummed in satisfaction. 

After a few tense minutes of waiting for Dream to change his mind, George finally felt the boy relax against the bed, hearing his breathing evening out and letting him know that the blonde was finally asleep. George smiled sleepily, turning his head and placing a gentle kiss against the boy’s neck before closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift off to sleep. 

…And maybe, just maybe, secretly hoping to continue his nightmare.

[motheatenscarf]

God, I hope patch DT msq is good.

[beardedmrbean]

[tvguts]

kinda worried i'll get sick of disney down here in orlando but tbh it's not much different, saturation-wise, than seeing ads for coca-cola everywhere in atlanta or how nobody in kansas city could shut up about our football team. maybe every city has something it's annoying about and that's beautiful or something.

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

Oh no, why did the llama lady block you? I love those animals

🤷‍♀️

[ingravinoveritas]

Oh my God. MICHAEL.

[tea-leef]

i feel like there is very close alternate timeline where the gray llama from llamas with hats got like...one of those ~2014 style twinkish anime humanized forms that took off and became a huge tumblr sexyman. and tumblr teens would write really sincere yandere-flavored shipping fics between the humanized llama designs

I’m not saying this would have been good, but like. u know what I mean? I feel like it could have happened so easily

[llamahearted]

you know I'm pretty new to this whole People Are Looking At My Art Blog thing... I did not realize I was allowed to just. publish all the nice askbox messages I've gotten in recent months. I've just been sitting here hugging them

[random-bean-allie]

that feeling when you mention the teeniest tiniest, smallest fact about a movie or book to someone and they're like wow how do you know that and

do i tell them that for some reason a bunch of weirdos loved that fact and put in a billion fanfics?

and worse, do i tell them i read every. single. one. of those fanfics??

[mushiewrites]

Sleepy Experiments

It is officially lee!George week! :D I'm so excited I finally got to do something like this - I've had this idea since @fluffallamaful did an incredible lee!Dream MONTH last June, and truthfully I've wanted to do this since last August but....better late than never, right? 😇 I also wanna just thank @awkwardtickleetoo for helping me with everything - prompts, ideas, proof reading, etc. Cal is literally there for me always and Im so grateful for him, he truly is my lil knight ):

day 1 - soft tickles / prompts found here!

(lee!George / ler!Dream : 3.8K words)

“Dream! Stohop!” George was met with yet another poke to his side, jerking his body to the left to escape Dream’s finger. He let out a sigh in fake frustration, fully aware that Dream was bound to become bored as they’d been attempting to nap with no success for a little while now. George had almost drifted to sleep multiple times, but every single time he did, he was met with a poke from the restless blonde boy.

“George! I cahan’t!” The elder couldn’t help but giggle at the mocking as Dream leaned his cheek against his right palm, elbow propped onto the bed beside him while he wiggled his free pointer finger in the air in front of George’s face to tease him. The brunette quickly swatted it away, making Dream let out a huff of amused air through his nose before making a move to poke George again. “Just a little!”

“Nohoho! Leave mehehe alone!” 

“Come on, Georgie, please? I promise I’ll be reaaaaally gentle. And maybe it’ll help me sleep!” Dream stuck out his bottom lip as far as it would go as he held out his words, the pout matching the puppy dog eyes he was using to melt the Brit. George let his head fall back onto the pillow beneath him, letting out a groan and bringing his right arm up to cover his eyes to prevent him from seeing how closely Dream was focusing on him. 

“I- I mean- why? Just- …ugh, fine.” George winced when Dream let out a squeal of excitement, dropping his arm back against the blankets and cracking an eye open to see Dream quickly push himself into a kneeling position beside him. “You have to be so gentle though, Dream! I mean it! One wrong move and you’re done.”

“I promise to be so gentle!” The blonde smiled at the warning, tapping George’s thigh twice before continuing. “Do you mind turning over for me, George?” 

George felt his cheeks fill with warmth, nodding his head with a quiet whine as he adjusted himself to lay on his tummy. He felt the familiar weight of the younger boy settling on the back of his thighs, jumping slightly when Dream hooked two fingers under his shirt and began revealing the pale skin beneath it. He felt goosebumps spread across the expanse of his back as the cool air blanketed every inch of it, making him squirm slightly with a shiver and growling at Dream when he giggled at the involuntary movement. 

“Do you really have to lift my shirt up for this?” His voice was more high pitched than he expected it to be and swallowed thickly, looking over his shoulder at Dream and coughing slightly to adjust it back to the normal tone. “I mean, it seems a bit excessive.” 

Dream let out a scoff at the passive protest, tilting his head slightly to the right when he saw the tips of George’s ears turning a light pink. He chuckled as he continued to slowly drag the black T-shirt up until it was sitting just below the bottom of his shoulder blades. George felt the fabric glide lightly across his skin when Dream released his grip, making him squirm briefly at the soft tickly feeling. 

“Oh George, if that bothered you, how are you gonna handle the actual tickles?” Dream cooed, smiling as the smaller boy began to squirm a little more at the thought of the soft tickles that awaited him. Dream swiped a pointer finger just below both his shoulder blades and chuckled when the smaller boy screeched, pushing his face into the pillow and muffling a nervous giggle that he couldn’t keep in any longer.

“Wahatch it! I can stop this right now, you know!” George threatened as he adjusted his arms, folding them underneath the pillow before laying his head back down against the soft fabric. 

“What?! No! Please don’t!” The tone of his voice sent a small dagger into George’s chest, melting him instantly. He knew that Dream was fully joking, but the fake hurt in the younger’s voice made George want to let Dream tickle him forever.

“I…I won’t,” He sighed in defeat. “Just…be careful, okay?” 

George was met with a small chuckle in response, giggling himself when he felt Dream’s fingers touch down just under his shoulder blades and wiggle lightly against the warm skin there. He twisted his fists up into the pillowcase, squeezing the fabric between his fingers in an attempt to keep his arms raised.

Dream continued to softly skitter his fingers over George’s back, spreading his hands further apart to trail up and down the sides of his spine. He arched into the bed as Dream’s right pointer finger traced back up his spine and between his shoulder blades, giggling harder and kicking his feet against the covers a few times to relieve some of the tickly energy that was coursing through his body.

“You’re cute when you’re all squirmy like this.” The blonde stated, no teasing tone to be found in his voice. This only further proved to fluster George as his face grew hotter, making him turn to fully bury his face into the pillow. 

“Shuhut up!” George’s giggles were quickly morphed to cackles as Dream used both pointer fingers to walk under his shirt, scratching lightly at the sides of his armpits and following George whichever way he twisted. 

“It’s the truth! What am I supposed to do, lie to you?” Dream giggled from his spot on George’s thighs, flattening his palms and dragging them slowly down before spidering his fingers along the boy’s lower back. The brunette jumped in surprise at the sudden tickling, giggling harder and visibly struggling more and more the longer Dream focused there.

“Ahaha, please! I- Dreheheam! Gehehentle, plehease!” 

“Thihis is gentle! I’m not sure I could get any more gentle if I tried!” Despite his rebuttal, Dream pressed his palms down again into the pink skin of George’s lower back and began rubbing to help soothe the tingly feeling. 

“Thahahank you!” George’s laughter was slowly calming down, the pitch raised into tiny squeaks but becoming less frequent as the time passed. Dream felt his own cheeks filling with heat at the reply, rarely experiencing that level of politeness from the Brit. He leaned his body slightly to the left  to look at George, feeling his stomach fill with butterflies at how wide his smile was, and how happy he looked with his eyes squeezed and nose scrunched. 

“Anything for you, my little prince.” He was met with a high pitched whine followed by chirpy giggles, making Dream’s tiny grin grow into a full blown toothy grin.

After sitting back on George’s thighs again, adjusting himself to balance comfortably, Dream used his pointer and middle fingers from both hands and slowly walked them up George’s back, pressing in and wiggling slightly as they continued their journey from his lower back to just under his shoulder blades once more.

“I didn’t realize how sensitive your back was, Georgie. And here I am, just thinking I was the only one cursed with this weakness!” He continued to speak as he made little swirls with his fingers on the sides of George’s back, careful to not tickle too much over his back ribs in fear of disturbing the smaller boy’s state of sleepy bliss he was caught in. “I hope you know I’ll remember this.” 

“Whahahatever!” The brunette exclaimed, wiggling slightly as the soft tickling continued under his shirt and around his shoulder blades. He scrunched his shoulders up as high as they would go, shaking his head back and forth as tickly circles were drawn around the sensitive bones of his upper back, hugging the pillow as tightly as he could as a source of comfort.

The younger boy hummed in response, a smile clear in the tone as he removed his hands from under the shirt and made his way back down to the dimples of George’s back, tracing and skittering all ten of his fingers as he went. As much as he loved the sound of George’s cackling, squealing and giggling, he didn’t want to tire the boy out too soon. After another minute of gentle tickles around the sides of his lower back, Dream flattened his palms again and began to rub the entirety of George’s back, helping to calm him and work him through the giggles that continued to pour from him. 

Dream eventually made his way to George’s shoulders, helping relax them back down from being pressed up against his ears. He used his hands to squeeze the muscles there every few seconds, giving George a gentle massage as his giggles slowly dissolved. The blonde noticed how small George looked beneath him, his hands completely engulfing his shoulders and making Dream let out a chuckle at how tiny he actually was. George let out a contented sigh, ignoring the giggle and turning his head to lay his cheek on the blankets comfortably, closing his eyes just moments later. George could feel himself drifting off to sleep when suddenly his eyes shot open, Dream’s hands having moved closer to his neck and sending a horribly tickly sensation to his nerves. 

“Wait, whahat?! Nohoho!” The elder scrunched his shoulders up and attempted to block the sensitive muscle where his shoulders and base of his neck met, clearly surprised at how much it affected him. 

“Awh, what’s wrong, sweetheart, does someone have a sensitive neck?” 

“You knohohow I do!” 

The brunette buried his head into the blankets below him once again as he let out a squeal, feeling Dream’s fingers walking up the sides of his neck until he was directly under his ears on both sides. He began to gently flutter his fingers in the hypersensitive area, giggling to himself when George’s laughter rose in pitch until it was nothing but bright chirps and loud squeaks. 

“Listen to you, George! You’re like a little bird!” The older boy groaned through his giggles at the comment, not knowing whether to take it as a compliment or an insult. He didn’t have much time to dwell on that though as a tiny raspberry was suddenly placed below his right ear, making him screech and attempt to bring up his shoulder again. Unfortunately for George, Dream’s chin blocked it and another small raspberry was placed in the same spot. 

“NAHAHA P-PLEHEASE! G-Gehehentle, Dream!” 

The skitters against his skin turned into gentle rubs, taming George’s giggles almost instantly and allowing him to relax back into the touch.

“I know, I know. I just can’t help myself, George. You’re too cute when you get all scrunchy.” Dream giggled at his own words as he watched George melt into the blankets beneath him. He moved his pointer fingers to swipe at the shell of George’s ear to hear him squeal again before rubbing the ghost tickles out immediately after the action. 

“W-Well, you’re ahahan idiot!” 

“Maybe, but I’m your idiot. So that makes up for it, right?” 

George could hear the smirk in Dream’s voice and refused to answer out of spite, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing the stupid remark had made me smile, too. After a few more minutes of Dream soothingly rubbing over George’s shoulders, he tapped on the smaller boy’s back a few times to get his attention. 

“Is it okay if you turn onto your back for me? I wanna try something else.” The blonde was met with a small whine in response, but lifted himself slightly off of George’s thighs when Dream felt him begin to turn over anyway. Dream’s grin only grew when George flashed him a death glare, watching as he flopped himself down onto his back with an eye roll. 

“There. Happy?” 

Dream raised an eyebrow at the question as he looked George’s torso up and down, shaking his head slightly in disapproval as he lowered himself back onto George’s thighs. His eyes were glued to George’s shirt, which had fallen back down to cover his tummy as the smaller boy maneuvered himself just seconds before.

“I would be, but you messed up your shirt! Now I have to pull it up again.” Dream sighed in feigned annoyance. He made sure to meet George’s gaze as he slowly began to push his shirt up once again, this time stopping at the middle of his ribs and dragging his fingers down his sides once he was satisfied with the amount of tummy exposed. The brunette writhed with a high pitched giggle at the tracing on his sides, bringing his hands up to hide his face out of embarrassment. 

Dream slowly skittered his fingers lightly over George’s lower tummy, feeling the smaller boy squirm a little more than he had been as he kicked his feet pathetically against the bed behind him. The blonde used his pointer fingers to continue to trace up and down the sides of George’s tummy, listening to the many different types of giggles it produced while George continued to squirm. The elder did his best to try and allow the tickling, stopping his hands every time they moved from his face to try and grab Dream’s hands on instinct. 

“Do you know you scrunch your nose sometimes when you laugh?” Dream commented nonchalantly, making the blush from George’s cheeks spread to the tips of his ears and down the front of his neck. 

“I dohohn’t!” 

“And you blush like crazy. Right now you’re like a little rose, your cheeks are so red! It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! My little blushy baby.”

“SHUT UHUHP!” George removed his hands from the safety of his own face and lunged forward, trying his best to clamp them over Dream’s mouth but squealing when his wrists were scooped up into one of the blonde’s big hands instead. 

“Oh, you want me to tickle your palms? You could’ve just asked, gorgeous!” Dream brought his chin down and began to lightly drag his beard over George’s palms, making him break out into bright cackles as he threw his head back. 

“N-Nahaha please! Nohohot there!” 

Dream knew that George had extremely sensitive palms, but also knew they worked incredibly well as melt spots when done correctly. Dream continued to slowly drag his chin back and forth over George’s hands until he felt the small fingers relax against his own cheeks, smiling and letting George press his fingers into them as he giggled along with the elder. 

“Dreheheam!” 

The blonde could tell that George was getting embarrassed, giggling quietly as he watched him squeeze his eyes shut while he attempted to hide his face into one of his shoulders. Dream decided to take pity on him, smile wide as he pulled back slightly to stop the tickling. 

“Okahay, okay. I guess I’m done experimenting....” Dream spoke with fake disappointment as moved his chin from its place hovering over George’s hands, holding them in his own and using both of thumbs to rub against George’s to help calm him. 

“Thahahank God.” He dropped his head back down against the pillow as he closed his eyes with a contented sigh, intending on allowing the rest of the giggles to run their course while he attempted to relax again. Dream raised an eyebrow at that, taking it as a small challenge and smirking when a new plan formed in his head.

“But actually, you know what? Maybe not!” Dream spoke suddenly, fingers releasing George’s hands and allowing both of his own to fall down to rest on the tops of his thighs.

“Wahahait, why?!” George felt a slight panic at the idea of more tickles after everything he’d already been put through, bringing his hands back to himself and crossing both arms over his torso for protection.

“I just realized I never got your poor little feet! How could I forget them, they need just as much attention as the rest of you, don’t they?”

“What?! Nohoho! We- We’re supposed tohoho be nahahapping!” George was quick to protest, launching his hands forward and gripping onto Dream’s wrists as tight as he could to keep him in place. Dream’s grin grew wider at that reaction, getting the desired results and deciding to continue the teasing.

“I could even do that thing you like so much!” Dream flashed him a smile as he ignored George’s words, only interested in continuing the topic he had introduced. George knew by asking he would only get more flustered, but he was too curious and too stubborn to allow Dream to get away with gatekeeping whatever thought he was currently having at his own expense. 

“...What thing…?” He was hesitant, his voice wavering when the question finally spilled out moments later. The blonde giggled brightly at that, pulling at his arms a little to feel that George still had a tight grasp on them.

“Well,” Dream began to explain, shrugging his shoulders as he thought for a moment before continuing. “You know that thing. The shoe thing! The one where I take one off and leave one on?”

“Dre- NMM HMM?!” George opened his mouth to speak, but Dream was quick to break out of the smaller boy’s grip, placing a hand over his mouth to muffle the protests as he continued. 

“To be gentle, of course! Not for any other reason. And then I’d take the one sock off, too. And I’d leave the other foot alone, still protected. Isn’t that nice of me, only focusing on one foot instead of two?”

George let go of the wrist he still was holding and grabbed the hand over his mouth, pulling it off and flinging it away from himself as far as Dream would let it go. He quickly brought his arms up and flung them over his face once again as he felt his cheeks grow hotter by the second. George was shaking his head quickly, not saying anything verbally out of fear his voice would sound small and weak from how flustered he was.

“You can relax, I’m just teasing. That’s a little too intense for you for it to be considered gentle, isn’t it, sweetheart? You’re just too ticklish and too flustered, huh?” 

“What?! Dream, just- whahatever, shut up!” George whined behind his arms, letting out a small hiccup in surprise when Dream gripped his elbows and lowered his arms to reveal his face. He opened his eyes and was met with bright green ones staring back, rolling his own and pushing at Dream’s chest to move him back slightly.

“Alrihight, angel, I’m done tormenting you…for now.” The blonde adjusted himself from straddling George’s thighs to kneeling next to him again, this time pressing his knees against George’s side in an attempt to stay connected. 

“More like forever.” George made a move to sit up as he mumbled under his breath, pushing himself up onto his elbows only to fall back against the bed suddenly when he felt rapid squeezes digging into his inner thighs. He let out a wail and thrashed around frantically, his legs kicking out and arms flailing in every direction. 

“NAHAHAHA! D-DREHEHEHEAM NOHOHO!” One of George’s hands gripped tightly into the comforter below him, pulling at it and trying his best to keep his arms to himself in an attempt to save himself from slapping Dream and making the tickling far worse than it already was.

The pinching stopped as quickly as it had started, allowing George to take in deep gulps of air as he continued to laugh himself silly. He pressed his knees together as he turned to the left side, curling in on himself and bringing a hand down to wedge between his inner thighs in an attempt to tame the ghost tickles that were still flowing throughout his legs. His free hand was covering the side of his face that was visible to Dream, attempting to keep the blonde from seeing George’s rapidly growing blush.

“I’m sorry, but I had to! You were getting cocky with me,” The blonde giggled, stretching his left arm out and placing it on the smaller boy’s arm and rubbing it soothingly to try and help calm his nerves. He let out a bright giggle when George jolted at the sudden touch, clearly anticipating more tickles. Dream moved his hand up George’s arm and into the older boy’s hair, gently ruffling it. “But it was only for a second! I promise I’m done now, baby.”

“Ohohonly a second?! It’s my thighs, Dreheheam! You know how they are!” George rolled his eyes as he moved his hand to reveal his face, barely meeting Dream’s gaze. He felt a chill run down his spine as soon as the words passed his lips, noticing the flame they ignited in Dream’s eyes as he stared down at him with a smirk.

“Oh yeah? Do I know how they are, Georgie?” The brunette squirmed at the words, moving to cover his face once again to hide himself from Dream.

“Yes!” George spat back in annoyance, feeling his face heat up once again at the teasing tone in the younger boy’s voice. George felt the bed dip and suddenly he felt lips against the shell of his ear, barely grazing it and causing him to yelp. He made a move to cover the spot with his hand instead, but Dream had anticipated this and was quick to lightly grip George’s wrist, keeping it where it was against his blushy cheek.

“Hmmm…maybe I do. But don’t worry! We can explore that another day, just to make sure I really know,” Dream purred into his ear, making George let out a high pitched whine from the sudden closeness of the blonde. “Preferably on a day where I’m feeling particularly cruel. Does that sound good, kitten?”

Dream released his grip on the tiny wrist in his hand, chuckling when the brunette scrambled to sit up while the blonde made a move to crawl to the edge of the bed. George could do nothing but watch with wide eyes as the younger boy stood up, making his way towards the door with a mischievous look on his face; like he was immediately planning George’s demise. 

“W-What about our nap?” 

“How could I possibly sleep now when I have, like, ten different ideas on how to absolutely wreck you floating around in my head? I’ll nap later.” Dream turned around one last time to flash him a teasy smile before exiting the bedroom and disappearing down the hallway, leaving George bright faced and breathless, anxiously sitting with the many questions that swirled through his mind of what Dream could possibly do to further tear him into ticklish little shreds.