Hi! Sombra here [24] and this is my SFW tickle blog. If youâre here for the fics, look out for the #tickle fic/art. I do take commissions, but i also take my time :)
So⌠hi, again! Been a while since I posted here. 2020 I think, when Sanders Sides was trending⌠oof.
My bad, life got busy, I went to college and had a break from writing⌠kind off.
Anyways, hereâs the updated chart from @ticklishphyllis and remaining info-dump below for more curious souls:
â˘My name is Mel, not Sombra, but I react to both xD (Donât bother why thatâs my nickname, I made it up when I was 12)
â˘Iâm a lee/learning-switch, all in for wholesome (even slight torturous) tickles, but NSFW makes me quite uncomfortable
â˘I write tickle fics and very rarely draw
â˘I swear and use âXDâ instead of âđđ¤Łđ¤Łâ
â˘Iâve had this account for almost 7 years and still have no idea how tumblr works
â˘I spam hashtags cause I donât know any better
â˘Iâm also a nerd, loyal PC gamer, been watching YouTubers since elementary school
â˘I love The Witcher, Team Fortress, Sanders Sides, Iron Lung, PHM, Ninjago, DRG and many more fandoms I canât think of atm
đ¤şđ¤şđ¤şđ¤ş
Lastly, I want to thank everyone in the tickle community who made and keeps making this amazing content, fanfics, arts, animations etc from my beloved movies and fandoms. Yâall kickstarted my fanfiction writing hobby𩷠Hopefully some fics will finally make it here :)
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Please keep in mind that THIS IS A TICKLE BLOG. Some motives may be disturbing to individual readers even if unintentional.
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Mb if Iâm butchering Rocky, but Iâm translating from the book back to English. Also I made the gif hence the low quality because app I used told me to pay for not-garbage quality so hhhshdbshđ¤şđ¤şđ¤ş
Words: 2,7k
Warnings: panic attack, passing out, mention of dying + this is a tickle fic
Lee!Grace, Ler!Rocky
Summary: Grace has a nightmare where he is separated from Rocky. He wakes up shaken, not sure if it was real or not and desperately looks for his friend around Hail Mary. When found, Rocky senses Graceâs emotions and helps him regulate.
Rylandâs decision was final. After a couple of agonizingly long days, he returned his ship after sending the Taumoeba samples to Earth, to reunite with his alien friend. He was nervous, but knew the purpose he came back for. As he spotted the xenonite ship floating nearby, Hail Mary hovered by it and let the beaks of both spaceships face each other as if they were communicating through a silent creaking of their structures.
The teacher put on his red suit and prepared for take off by foot. He stationed himself on the edge of the launch bay and with one switch push that took almost no strength but all his courage, Grace floated through space towards the Eridian spacecraft. As the wire securing him stretched behind, Grace felt anxiety building up in his chest.
Something felt off. Just not quite right. As the ship was nearing closer and closer, its reflection in Graceâs helmet was dim. Not that Rockyâs ship has ever been shiny and bright, but it was dimmer than he remembered.
When he finally touched down and was able to crawl to an entrance tunnel, it was sealed off with durable xenonite panel through which his small headlight shined, revealing black and brown pipeline structure that used to habitat Rocky. But he wasnât there.
Grace called out, but made no sound. There was no sound in space. All he could hear was his own heartbeat beating in his ears, raising by every passing second. Where is Rocky? Shouldnât he be out by now? With his incredible hearing, he wouldâve already known thereâs someone trying to get in. But the ship remained lifeless. He shouted again, banged on the panel, adjusted his headlight and squinted his eyes to see as far ahead of the darkness as he could.
And suddenly⌠he saw something at the very end of the tunnel. It was so far it looked tiny. Pointy, uneven, as if it was upside down. It looked like⌠a dead spider laying on its back.
Wait⌠the double jointed legs⌠noâŚ
âRocky?! ROCKY, Is that you?!â Grace called, now panicking as realization washed over him.
Rocky was dead.
Ryland was too late. The Edirian ship run out of fuel and the radiation got to him.
Graceâs breathing and heart rate began to spike at uncomfortable speed as if his lungs and heart were in a dangerous race with each other. His vision has gotten blurry and his body gave up on him, muscles turned to mush, air was heavy and his head momentarily overflowed with fear so strong he could comprehend nothing. He felt like drowning in the sound of his own weeping, heart pounding in his ears. As distress signal was roaring in his head, he cried desperately out for Rocky to come back-
âGHA-!â
A sharp, choked up gasp filled the room as Grace sat straight up, panting so fast his chest could barely keep up. He looked around frantically as everything around him changed. A cold sweat run down his face, hands stiff from an iron grip on the blanket that covered him. He was not on a rescue mission for Rocky, not in his astronaut suit in space. He was on Hail Mary. In bed. Safe.
But again, he was alone.
âOh crapâŚâ a tired half-sigh-half-whisper escaped his mouth as his face landed in his hands and he slowly rubbed it. âIt was a dream. Just a terrifying stupid nightmare! RightâŚ?â Grace looked up at all the xenonite constructions Rocky has made above his head to watch him sleep. They lacked one crucial thing however. Rocky was nowhere to be found. Normally Heâd have heard him whispering in his sleep and probably come running at that point, but it was quiet.
âNo⌠no no no no, I-I-I saved Rocky, we⌠we returned to⌠or⌠did we? Oh my godâŚâ Grace wasnât sure if he was gaslighting himself or not. Did he actually save Rocky or not and his mind kept rejecting that reality? Why does it haunt him in his dreams? It felt like someone pulled out his brain, messed up the organized puzzle that once were his memories and put it back in.
Rocky and Grace would watch each other sleep. Because Eridians are completely paralyzed and helpless while asleep, itâs a deeply ingrained cultural necessity that friends take turns guarding, so⌠why wasnât he there?
âRocky?! Rocky, where are you?!â
Within split second, Graceâs body went into panic mode again. Breathing was obstructed once more, his muscles felt like disorganized pack of jellies and his vision wouldnât focus. He jolted out of bed, from laying down to standing at attention, frantically calling and looking out for Rocky, not knowing how to handle the wave of uncontrollable panic that was clearly overwhelming him.
âROOOOCKY!â wow dramatic much
âGrace! Why grace so loud?!â
Grace snapped his head towards the familiar voice and through his blurred vision he finally saw movement as a xenonite ball rolled into his line of sight.
âRock! YouâreâŚâ he wanted to ask his friend why did he leave. He opened his mouth, but no more words came out. Instead the adrenaline wore off, no longer supporting his jelly legs and standing position. Multiplied by the rapid getup from the bed, like an iron deficiency diva that he is, Grace almost fainted. He very much needed this dose of relief, but when it finally hit and his mind would stop for a second, he didnât expect it to be the only thing keeping him upright.
He fell to the floor, just barely managing to push his arms out and stop his face from plummeting to the ground with the rest of his body. Rocky chirped anxiously, straightening up in his ball and came running to his friend.
âGRACE, GRACE! Grace okay?! Grace died!? Grace sick?â As Rocky started bombarding him with questions, the teacher was still trying to ground himself from the panic attack. He was supporting himself on the elbows, regulating his breathing, his lower half lying on his side, legs curled. He no longer doubted Rocky was here, so why wouldnât he stop pacing? Why donât the boxing glove in his chest stop pounding on it from inside out?
He regained just enough strength to pull himself up and hug Rocky through the xenonite. Rocky was startled a bit, but quickly caught on and hugged back in his own way. Graceâs body could finally let down guard and suddenly a wave of sadness hit him, contorting his face unwillingly and tears poured.
He did save Rocky. After a million times that Rocky saved him, deep down he knew - he always knew he did. That freaking dream tricked him, made him doubt himselfâŚ
âGrace leaking from face. Why Grace upset?â
âWhy did you leave?â He sobbed, face still glued to Rockyâs orb.
âGrace say things while asleep. Rocky try to wake up Grace, but Grace wonât. Rocky was worried, so Rocky go get Armando to check on Grace.â Rockyâs arm pushed through one of the walls of his container and placed it on Graceâs back in a comforting gesture. âWhy humans talk why asleep, question?â
âWe dream.â Grace kept sobbing, though slowly quieting down. âIâve had a dream, where I⌠youâŚâ damn, words are hard. His closed throat wasnât helping either as it felt like the words were barely squeezing through it.
âWhatâs dream, question?â Rocky asked very directly like he wasnât just holding falling-apart-Grace. However, at the request of explanation, his eyes sparked again. He was still shaking uncontrollably, yet wanted to share his knowledge with his friend. Every time Rocky asked a question, Grace would be more than happy to tell him. It reminded him of teaching students back on Earth.
âItâs our brains way of sorting out memories and integrating them with cortex when we sleep.â he started explaining while wiping his eyes with a sleeve. Sniffs and sobs were interrupting every second so much so his diaphragm was hurting, but he tried to push through, feeling Rockyâs embrace through the xenonite container.
âThereâs a part called hippocampus that orchestrates it, but sometimes we regain consciousness partly during this process and witness hippocampusâs memory-sorting as a mare. Sometimes it feels like youâre really there even if itâs just in your head. This⌠is why I was talking in my sleep.â Grace tried to sit up and leaned his back against the wall. As his whole trunk finally relaxed in a more natural position, breathing started to be manageable again.
âSo⌠why Grace scared? What Grace dream?â
âRocky, can we not⌠do this right now? Iâm still⌠not quite all there yet.â
âWhat Grace need? Rocky help.â Grace did not reply. He tilted his head back, so it could rest against the wall too, closed his eyes and kept breathing short, shallow huffs and puffs. Rocky stopped asking questions as he remembered from one of many Rylandâs rambles that humans tend to get overwhelmed with too much information or questions at once. In silence, he carefully approached Grace, emerging halfway through his ball and lying his center in his lap, careful to not pull his whole weight on it.
After a couple of minutes, Grace finally started to come back from the panic room. Rocky noticed early when his heartbeat slowed down and chirped happily upon hearing it.
âThank you, buddy.â Grace put his hand on Rockyâs body, sticking out of the container, patting him gently with gratitude.
âRocky happy Grace better. Now Grace tell Rocky about bad dreams, question?â Grace smiled in his heart and shook his head at how smoothly Rocky rerouted the conversation back to it. At least now he could speak without choking on his own breath.
âNot all dreams are scary. Hippocampus filters both good and bad memories and sometimes mixes them. Itâs really a coin flip which moment youâll get. When itâs a scary one, itâs called a nightmare.â
âGrace had nightmare, question?â
âYes⌠I⌠I thought you died, Rocky.â Grace winced at the haunting image of Rocky as an upside down spider crossed his mind.
âI had a nightmare from when your ship was failing. I was so worried I was too late and that I messed upâŚâ before Ryland managed to break down into tears again, Rocky cut in, which he almost never does.
âRocky not died, statement. Grace did not mess up. Grace save Rocky.â He said with such calmness and cuteness that Graceâs heart overflowed with warmth in an instant. He teared up at those words. Rocky was too pure for this conversation.
âI know, bud. Iâm sorry, it felt⌠too real.â Grace held back a whimper. A short pause on both sides occurred.
âŚ
âDream stupid, statement.â
âNo, Rock, itâs fine, I- itâs my fault-Iâm just a bit shaken-â
âDream makes Grace sad. Dream make Grace think Rocky dead! I donât like.â Rocky exclaimed as if it was the biggest insult he has ever heard. He might have also been frustrated that no matter what they did, Graceâs face kept leaking, but at least he wasnât panicking anymore.
âItâs nightmares that are bad. And of course I know youâre not dead, I- I- just- hehehey now!â Grace tried to explain, but fumbled as he felt Rocky climbing on top of him with his full weight now and malicious intent. He slid off the wall and tried to crawl backwards to his bedroom, but he was already immobilized. It was like someone parked a car on top of him. He was not going anywhere.
âRocky not believe. Grace stressing over stupid dreams!â
âBuddy, Iâm- I'm fihihine.â Grace giggled in anticipation as Rockyâs hands extended from the xenonite container and his claws opened, wiggling slightly in the air. Grace knew where this was going and a dumbfounded smile slit his face.
âRocky hear Grace heart and breathing. Grace still scared and sad. Rocky help!â
âNohoho- Rocky, DOHOHONâT-â before Grace could protest, he felt Rockyâs hands land on each side of his ribcage and vibrate violently. He immediately fell on his back, bringing his arms closer to his chest and started laughing loudly. Not giggling - straight up laughing from the belly. Rocky awed melodiously as Grace's warm laughter filled the room.
"Nightmares bad - tickles good!" Rocky teased and Grace cursed in his mind that he had ever taught his alien friend about the concept of tickling. Honestly he could've predicted that it would backfire at some point.
"Wahait- WAHAHAHAIT! Rohohocky, nohoho! I'm betteheheher- I swehehehear!" he squealed, frantically pushing at Rocky's ball pressing him into the floor as his claws moved to the sides of his abdomen. Graceâs body jolted, but xenonite held him in place. The inability to curl up or even shift sideways made the tickles ten times better worse.
"Great, Grace recovering! Amaze! Amaze! Amaze!"
"Rohohock, you're nohohot helpihihihing!"
"Rocky IS helping! Grace happy again! Why Grace so stubborn?" Rocky squished all around his belly sides and lower ribs. It was very sensitive area for Grace, but also like a melt spot. He loved when Rocky did that even though he couldnât take it.
"Thahat's NOT hohohow you treat ahaha person afteheheHEHER they hahad a p-pahahanic attack!- *squeal* NO, NOHOHO GET AHAHAHAWAY FROHOHOM THEHEHHEHERE!â Grace practically screamed, when Rockyâs third arm snaked up and started squeezing the pudge of his lower belly, landing one claw in the navel and wiggling there stubbornly. Rocky completely ignored Graceâs plea and just kept making high frequency happy noises, very pleased with reactions he was causing.
âROHOCKY PLEHEHEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHANâT MOHOHOHOVE!â Grace begged through his loud laughter. He trashed his head from side to side, his body wiggled helplessly under Rocky as he couldnât get an inch away from this unbearable feeling. His legs kicked aimlessly and he was slamming his hands on Rockyâs ball, which caused the alien to flinch at how loud it echoed inside. But it didnât stop him from tickling.
âOuch! My hearing perception! Grace no slap Rockyâs container. Itâs very loud.â
âIâM SAHAHAHAHARRY! STOHOHOP TIHIHIHICKLING MEHEHEHE!â Grace burst out shaking his head from side to side. A frantic mix of squeals and laughter pouring out of him, much to Rockyâs amusement. That man was the cutest (and only) human Rocky has ever seen. But he noticed his friend getting tired and decided to resolve the situation with an ultimatum.
âWill Grace stop having nightmares?â
âI CAHAHAHANâT CONTROHOHOL IT!â
âThen Grace will find Rocky and not panic stupidly?â
âYEHEHEHEHES IHIHI WIHIHILL, ROHOHOCK, STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEHEASE!â Grace begged through his now slightly hoarse voice, not entirely sure what he just agreed to.
Rocky finally let up. The second he let go of his waist and rolled off to the floor, Grace flopped on his side and curled up into a ball, leftover giggles still escaping his lips. The reassurance and encouragement before the tickling were enough to make him calm down, but with how touched starved Grace was (weâre social creatures after all), in the end he didnât mind at all.
âYouhuhu are the little tihihickle monster, you know that?â said Grace, still panting and smiling like an idiot.
âApology.â Rocky moved closer and hugged Grace still curled up on the floor, who flinched at the contact of Rockyâs claws with his side again.
âNo mohohore! Rocky-â
âGrace no afraid, Rocky will tickle no more (today). Grace recover from nightmare?â
âYes, never been better, pal.â He said, rolling his eyes as Rocky just gave him a reality check disguised as tickling the life out of him that he, in fact, is not dead.
âGrace remember this and donât be stupid.â Rocky moved his center (where his face would be if he had one) in front of teacherâs face and placed his stretched claw on top of his head, which made Grace feel a bit like an immobilized cat grabbed by the nape.
âGrace saved Rocky, now Grace safe, Rocky make sure of that.â Grace just shook his head and embraced Rocky. He finally let his guard down completely and let his body relax here on the ground.
âI know, pal. I know.â
Whatever was left of panic still inside of him, has evaporated with all the laughter Rocky caused. Was it that it was actually quite enjoyable to laugh freely in the arms of a friend?
He patted Rocky through the container and smiled at his very much needed words of great encouragement. He knew he saved him deep down - they saved each other. It was possible he could have failed, but he didnât.
No dumb nightmare was going to change this awesome reality.
Itâs me again. International bestselling writer Fawn Millz. Please bet that reference bro PLEASE.
This is just more self indulgent gobbledygook from the other day. Yall seemed to like The Agreement, so maybe yall will like this one too IDK. DONâT LOOK AT ME, STOP LOOKING AT ME.
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đ¨ TW: A little bit of panic. Not too much, but just be aware!
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Lee!Grace (PHM) Ler!Simon (Iron Lung)
Despite constant reminders, Grace cannot seem to remember to fix his posture when he sits. Just as Simon predicts, his back starts to hurt because of itâŚ
My posture is horrible. I know it. Itâs been that way my entire adult life, and at this stage in the game, I couldnât care less.
I had a nasty habit of rounding my back and slouching like a poorly stuffed ragdoll anytime I sat at my desk. Friends of mine told me I had âartistâs postureâ, others said I sit like an old man.
One of the perks about being on an isolated spaceship, was that there was no one around who could say anything about it anymore.
âŚ
âSit up.â A grumbled voice commanded from behind me. I gasped, shooting into an upright position at the feeling of a quick swipe of a pencil up my spine.
âAh-! Ugh. Thanks, you messed me up- youâre lucky I wasnât working with chemicals.â I huffed, scribbling out the word I cluttered with a stray line.
âWell if you stopped sitting like a propped up corpse, I wouldnât have to mess you up.â Simon walks around to the side of me, setting down a rolled up paper, and a cup filled with various writing utensils.
âWhat a dark simile.â
âWell, itâs the first thing that comes to mind.â Simon shrugs, unrolling his paper. âSit straight, or your back is gonna hurt like hell.â
I ignore him, Peering over at the paper. It was a large piece of thick, graph paper. Weak at the edges and well used. There were intricately mapped points across the entirety of it, lines crossing and weaving around the various points across
âWhatâcha got there?
âStar chart. Iâve been mapping the trip to Erid since I woke up here.â He slides the paper towards me, pointing to a thin, precisely drawn line that started seemingly at a random point on the map, and headed in the direction of 40-Eridani.
âWow- Simon this is really cool. You have any sort of astrocartography experience? This looks professional.â I smile, looking over at him.
He shrugged sort of sheepishly, not daring to look up from his chart to acknowledge my compliment. ďżź
âI guess. More of a hobby than anything serious anymore.â
I hum in reply.
âWell youâre welcome to use the star charts on the cockpit nav system if you need them. For cross referencing.â I say, nodding to the cockpit behind us.
Simon shakes his head. âI donât know how to use any of that stuff up there- I donât wanna mess something up or knock us off course.â
I scoff. âOh no itâs alright, you wonât mess anything up. Iâve made it this far without blowing this thing to bits, so that should be proof enough that Maryâs dummy-proof.â I chuckle.
âBut, if youâd feel more comfortable, thereâs also a nav interface here in the lab. Itâs just a little smaller.â
âThatâs alright.â
âCool! Here, Iâll show you how to use it.â I stand up from my chair, wincing a little as a dull pain pangs through my lower back.
I can walk it off.
I lead Simon over to a computer screen suspended on a ceiling mounted arm in the corner of the room. I press a random key on the keyboard beneath it to wake the system up.
It springs to life with a black and blue Hail Mary mission patch icon perched in the center of the screen. I roll a stool over, taking a seat as I attempt to sign into the computer.
âAGH!â
Access denied.
I whirl around to see Simon holding his pencil at my back level.
âI told you to sit straight- you slouched immediately after sitting back down.â
I swipe the pencil from his hand, pointing it at him.
âJust remind me! You donât have to reflex test me!â I hiss back. âAnyway-â
I successfully log into the computer, and launch the Astro Nav program, loading up a realtime chart of not only our flight path, but the stars and bodies that surround us.
âHere! You can scroll around, zoom in or out, click whatever. Nothing will affect the ships navigation.â I smile, rolling out of the way so that Simon can take a look for himself.
He lifts his chart up to the screen, and. Itâs perfectly plotted. He smiles, noticing a few small stars scattered around the computer screen model that he hadnât accounted for, definitely excited to plot them on his personal map.
âWell Iâll leave you to it then.â I smile, bracing myself on two nearby desks to lift myself up. Something in my back cracks
Simon looks to me, I wave him off.
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Two long hours pass.
Simon was right⌠I should have taken his advice. My back hurts.
Not a cramping pain or deep injury pain like Iâm used to, it was a sharp, sticking pain, which shot through my low back every time I tried to bend down, turn on my hipsâ axis, or lift a leg.
The type of pain you feel when thereâs a part of your back that just wonât crack, no matter what position you fold yourself into.
âGrace okay, question?â
âHm? Yeah Iâm fine, Rock. Thank you.â I nod
âIs sure? Been lying down long long time .â
Rocky tilts his carapace, looking up at me on my bed from his place on the floor.
I prop myself up on my elbows, letting out a pained groan as I do.
âH-hurt? Hurt?! Grace hurt?!â
âNo! No, buddy Iâm fine, lower your voice. Itâs just my back. Itâs bothering me.â
âOh. Understand. Cramp, question?â
âNothing like that.â I shake my head. âJust spinal pain. A nerve or something probably. Iâll be alright.â
Rocky taps the floor idly in thought, and I let myself fall back down into bed.
âRocky get Simon to help Grace! Human better for this problem.â
âNo- thatâs not necessary- owwww-!â I spring back up to protest, aggravating my back again, and slumping over the side of the bed, groaning into the mattress.
âGet me to help with what?â Simon calls from the top of the ladder. ďżźoh good! Gangâs all here.
âNothing.â
âGrace complains back hurts.â
âOh, you donât say.â Simon shoots me a look.
âGrace do say. Rocky hear.â
âSarcasm.â Simon and I say in unison.
âAnd Iâm perfectly fine. I donât need any help! Iâm just sore.â I sit up, despite myself, and hoist myself up into a standing position, throwing my arms up as if to say âsee?!â.
âŚI Immedietly hiss in pain upon taking what could barely be described as a baby step, losing balance.
Simon watches me crumple to the ground, shaking his head disapprovingly, as I let out the most pathetic, long, whiny âowwwwwwwâ Iâm sure any of us had ever heard.
âI got him, Rocky. You can go back upstairs if you want.â
âGood. Yes. Grace very loud and annoying. I go upstairs.â
âHeâll probably be even louder once I adjust his back, so sorry in advance.â
âADJUST? WHAT DO YOU MEAN ADJUST.â I shout, kicking a leg out to fend Simon off.
âYou want the Websterâs definition, or what?â
âYouâre not giving me a chiropractic adjustment, are you insane?!â
âItâs that or old man back for the rest of the flight to Erid. Would you stop kicking at me? Youâre only gonna hurt yourself more.â
âNO-! Chiropractics is pseudoscience-! A-and youâre not even a doctor!â I protest, worming away from Simon on the floor like an idiot.
âAnd youâre not an astronaut. Nice glass house, buddy.â TouchĂŠâŚ
âShut up!!â
He sighs. âThis is gonna hurt, and I apologize. Iâm gonna be as gentle as I can.â
âWhat..?!â
In a few swift motions, Simon hooks a leg between mine, spinning in a tight circle, and in turn, flipping me onto my stomach on the floor with a hollow thud.
âOOOWWWWW.â
âI know, Iâm sorry. Just let me fix your stupid back and Iâll leave you alone.â
After a stunned moment, I attempt to push myself back up, but feel the cold metal of Somonâs xenonite hand coaxing me back to the ground.
I heave, tilting my head to the side.
The room around me at a nauseating, sideways angle as Iâm pinned down to the floor.
Pinned downâŚ
Pinned downâŚ
âSimon, let me up.â My voice is quieter, colder than it had been before. The words falling out in almost a mumble
âWhat?â
âGet off of me. Let me up. Please, Iâm serious.â
My body began to tremble. Any pain I had felt fizzled out under the commanding force of adrenaline. I tried closing my eyes to block out the light, that was becoming increasingly overwhelming, but when I did, all I saw were flashes of a blurred memory⌠lying in the grassâŚ
âRyland what is wrong?!â
âGET OFF!!â I snap, shoving Simon off of me. He falls to the side, on his good arm, thankfully, looking at me with a puzzled, shocked stare.
âIâm sorry-! I- Iâm sorry- are you okay?! I- I didnât mean to-â
Simon sits up, raising his hands where I could see them.
âAre you okay?! What is happening? Did I hurt you?â His voice dropped low. Calm and disarming.
âNo, you didnât, Iâm sorry.â
âDonât apologize. Can I come closer?â
âYes.â I nod, my gaze falling to the floor as Simon slowly scoots back over to me, reaching out to put his hands on my shoulders.
He stops short, giving me time to pull away. I donât, so he gently takes me by the shoulders.
âYou look terrified.â He furrows his brows, studying my face. âAre you about to cry-?â
âMaybe?â
âO-okay, thatâs fine. Can you tell me whatâs wrong before you do?â
I frown, shaking my head. Simon sighs, nodding back. âAlright, okay.â
My vision clouds with tears under my glasses, and I slump forward against Simon, who doesnât budge from the impact. I hear the mechanical whir of his metal arm as it comes up to rest across my back.
He doesnât speak. He just lets me tire myself out until my quiet crying deflates into sniffling,
âYouâve gotten quiet⌠are you alright?â
âY-yeah, yes Iâm okay. SorryâŚâ I suddenly feel a bit self conscious, having been more or less clinging to Simonâs shirt for the better part of fifteen minutes, so I make a move to try and sit up.
Simon gently pulls me back in. I donât protest any further.
âStop saying sorry. What are you even apologizing for? Crying?â He shrugs.
I shrug back. I really had no answer.
âCan you please tell me what happened? What set you off? I want to make sure I donât trigger something like this again if I can help it.â
I sigh, twisting my body a bit so that my head more comfortably rested against Simonâs chest.
âI.. I told you that this mission wasnât voluntary⌠for me.â
âYeah, something about the uh⌠the science team getting into some freak accident or something. And you were next pick.â
I nod.
âYeah. Look, I donât wanna get too far into detail- at least not right now, but⌠I ran. I tried to run away from the compound, from the mission, from what I knew had to be done- but security caught me. They uh⌠brought me to the ground and sedated me right there.â My voice broke as I explained.
Simon nodded slowly.
âLast thing I saw was the world tilted on its side⌠Being held down until I stopped fighting. I guess Iâve got a lingering fear from it.â
I sniffled, pulling my cardigan sleeve over my hand, and dragging it across my face.
âOh⌠I didnât realize it was so forceful. Iâm so sorry.â
âItâs uh..â my reflex is to say âitâs okayâ, but Iâm not entirely certain it is myself. Thank you.â
I readjust again, unable to quite get comfortable. I hiss in mild pain as the pang in my back hits once again. Adrenaline has worn off.
Simon perks up, looking down at me. âRight- your back.â He says softly âWill you please let me take a look at it? I promise Iâm not gonna hurt you.â
I stay quiet for quite a while.
âOkay. Sure, just-â
âYou can lie down on the bed. I wonât hold you down. I wonât do anything to make you feel trapped. I promise.â He says sternly, giving my shoulders another squeeze.
I nod, a weak smile on my lips. âAlright.â
Simon gave me a firm pat, guiding me upright. âAlright, come on- careful careful.â
He helped me into a standing position, and guided me over to the bed, at which point he backed away, allowing me to assume whatever position I was most comfortable in.
I chose face down, with my arms folded under my pillow.
ââŚYou sure-?â Simon chuckles âyouâre not gonna suffocate?â
âNo, Iâm fine. I sleep like this a lot.â
âThat⌠canât possibly be safe. Alright then.â I hear Simonâs heavy boots approach the side of the bed.
âGood?â
âGood.â
âTell me where.â I feel two starkly different hands, one metal, one flesh, gently rest on the middle of my back. They l press and prod at my back, slowly walking down my spine.
âYâalright?â Simon asks, probably noticing my body shuddering under his hands.
âY-yeheah, Iâm fine.â My voice is muffled by the pillow.
Simon hums, pressing his thumbs just a little harder into the muscle. I gasp, my arms shooting down reflexively to pin against my sides.
âWoah- ticklish?â He chuckles. âSorry, sorry. How about you tell me where the pain is then?â
âL-2, lumbar spine.â I mutter back
âUhâŚâ
âSmall of my back.â I try again.
âGot it. Here?â
âOw- yes.â I flinch ahen Simon gently jabs my spine with two fibers.
âOk⌠breathe in and hold it.â
I canât deny, I was a bit nervous, but I did as instructed.
Crack!
I groan, letting out the breath.
The pain⌠was gone.
âBetter?â
âHow did you doooo thaaaatâŚâ I mutter.
Simon lifts his hands away from my back, chuckling softly.
âYouâd be mad at me if I said I donât know, so Iâm saying nothing. But see? I told you youâd feel better.â
âWait, youâre done?â Jeez Ryland, could you sound any more pathetic?
âWell- yeah, I am. Why, is there something else you need?â
ââŚno.â I reply, face still buried in my pillow.
âThat wasnât convincing at all.â Simon snorts. âCâmon âMr. Graceâ, you keep reminding me youâre a teacher, so show me some vocabulary words. Whaddya want?â
âOh come on.â I scoff. âDonât do that.â I prop myself up on my elbows, holding my head and chest up, looking over me shoulder.
âSpeak up, or Iâm going back upstairs to work on my star chart.â
I groan, dropping my head.
âFine, yes, please can you- âŚyâknow.â I shrug,
âWhy would I ask you to clarify if I-â
âTickle me? âŚPlease?â I say with an exasperated sigh. âIt would make me feel better, and I would really prefer you didnât let this hand in the air for a long time before you respond or do something, I hate it when you dOHOHHO THAHAJAT-! AHAHAHA-!â
Simon shot his hands under my arms, scribbling aggressively through the fabric of my cardigan.
I collapse back down on my face, shouting and laughing into the pillow like a smothered hyena.
âWell since you asked so nicely.â Simon purrs, raking his fingers up and down my ribs. The sharper, metallic digits on the prosthetic hand were WAY more effective, making my body curl up like an isopod ok my side.
âOh- wait.â Simon lifts his hands away. âIâm sorry, is this too aggressive? I should have checked.â
âN-no, itâs fine⌠thanks for checking..â I confirm with a goofy smile on my face.
Simon smiles, reaching down and removing my glasses, placing them safely off to the side.
âGood enough.â Without missing a beat, he lunges at me again, pulling me so that I rolled onto my back, before latching onto my stomach with both hands, squeezing, kneading, pinching, and skittering over the area.
âAH- AH-! AHAHA- oH GOHOHOD!â
âStill good?â
âY-YEAHAHAHâ
âYou cackle like a supervillain, you know that?â
âW-WHAT??! WHAHHATâS THAT EVEN MEAN?â
âOr maybe a witch. Listen.â Simon suddenly digs both thumbs into my hips, vibrating feverishly.
I hate to say it- but heâs rightâŚ.
âAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA-!!â I throw my head back, screaming with high pitched laughter that kinda really did sound like a cartoon villain.
âSee?â
âSHUT UHUHUJUP-!â
âOooh thatâs not very nice. Iâm doing this because you asked me to, remember?â Simon tutted. âCâmere.â Simon took a seat on the bed, and dragged me by the shoulders so that my torso laid over his lap.
I didnât protest, I did ask for it, anyway.
âMuch better!â He nodded, resuming his attack. One hand found its way back to my stomach, making a claw, and moving in a strumming motion.
âAHAHAHA-! AAH! E-ENOUGH WITH THE STOMACH!!â
âAlright then where?â Simon stops again, folding his arms.
âŚWell I wasnât expecting to be given a choiceâŚ
âClearly you have something else in mind if you want me to switch spots and not stop completely. So?â
âI- uhuhmâŚâ
âOh come on.â Simon laughs down at me. âHere Iâll make it easier. Youâve got weird spots all over. You freaked out when a loose piece of string touched your wrist lathe other day. Gimme one of those.â
I couldnât tell if it was because I was lying down, or because I was being called out, but my face was burning.
âUhm, I donât know-â I looked to the side.
âLook at me.â I canât stand this guy.
âShh- s-stop talking!â I reach up, swatting at Simonâs face, turning it away from me.
He catches my arm, holding it up in the air.
âNever mind. You donât get to pick.â He hooks my arm around his neck, holding my wrist over his shoulder with the steady grip of the xenonite, lwavinf enough slack for me to pull away if I wanted to.
âWaHAHAHAHAIT!!â
With his unoccupied hand, Simon digs at the hollow under my arm, moving back and forth from there to the back of my shoulder.
âSIGIHIMON!!!â
âDonât reach at me like that. Especially not at my scars.â He says sternly.
âOKAY!! OKAHAHAY IM SORRY!! IM SO SORRY I SWEAR!â I shout, wriggling in place.
âAre you?â He purrs, shifting his hand up to my neck, resting it just below my haorline.
I freeze, looking up at him with wide eyes.
âSimon-!â
âTen seconds.â
âFive.â
âEight.â
ââŚFine.â
Simon grins. âDeal.â
He pinches the back of my neck gently, holding the position. Genuinely, I assure you, Thatâs all he does.
âAAAAH-! AHAHA- CH-CHRISTMAS EHEHEVE-!â
âYouâre allowed to swear like a grown man, Gracie.
âAHAHA-! DONâT CAHAHALL ME THAT!â I protest. I was just being difficult, Iâm not sure I hate that nickname. âAND NOHOHO I CANâT-! AHAHA- IM A TEACH- SHIHIHIT-!!â Simon squeezes harder just a few times, at the speed of a heartbeat. I think he was following my pulse.
I shriek⌠naturallyâŚ
âAAAAAAAAHAHAHA!! SIMON!!â
âThere it is⌠3⌠2⌠andâŚâ
He quickly leans down, blowing a raspberry on the side of my neck. The vibration and the gentle scratch of his sharp teeth on my skin send me careening over the edge.
Simon pulls back, laughing as I fight for air, still laid across his lap.
âIt seems like you are having a dispute.â Maryâs voice echoes through the room from the shipâs speakers.
âNo no Mary, weâre alright, thank you.â Simon calls back with his stupid annoying calm voice.
âYouâre welcome, Simon.â
I sit up off of Simonâs lap, not without his assistance, and right myself up next to him, letting out one last heavy sigh.
âYou alright?â
âYeahâŚâ
âFeel better?â
âYes. Thanks.â
âHave fun?â
âIs this like, a survey? Is there a skip option?â
I roll my eyes.
âOh- sorry about uh- pushing your fave like that. I hope I didnât hurt you.â I say softly.
âWhat? Oh, no I donât really care. It doesnât hurt. Most of my nerves there are shot to hell anyway.â
ââŚYouâre absolutely unbelievable.â I sneer at him. âI actually thought I hurt you!â
Simon chuckles. âI figured that would work Howâs your back?â
I sit up straight, lean forward, twist from side to side, and smile. âGood! Doesnât hurt anymore!â I say, a quiet crack following from somewhere else in my back as I lean back again.
Simon grimaces.
âNo no, thatâs normal. Iâm like a bowl of Rice Krispies.â I chuckle, making a fist and cracking my knuckles into my other hand.
âEugh.â
I snicker, dropping my head to the side, prompting two rather loud pops from my neck.
Simon shudders, leaning away. âGod-! Stop that!â
âWhat?! You just cracked my back!â
âYeah, but that was out of necessity!â
âI can do my jaw too.â
âI believe you. Donât demonstrate.â Simon stands up.
âItâs just nitrogen bubbles popping- itâs not actually bone, yâknow.â I place a hand under my jaw, Simon grabs my wrist.
âThank you, Professor. I know.â
I laugh, lowering my hand. âOkay! Okay, o wonât do it.â
âItâs a miracle all your bones donât hurt.â Simon mutters as I stand up as well, the two of us heading for the laddder out of the dorm.
âThe gravity on the ship is weaker than it is on earth, so-â
âRhetorical, Gracie.â
I pause, rolling my eyes, despite my face warming up a little.
âYou like that name.â Simon says it like a fact, shooting me a look, a thin half smile on his face.
âI donât hate it. Whatever.â I wave him off.
âYou never let me explain stuff to you. You always cut me off.â I huff.
âWell why donât you come explain some of these stars Iâve never seen on the charts upstairs to me then? You can give me the origins of their names and everything.â
I couldnât quite tell if he was being facetious or not, so I chose to believe he wasnât.
âWith pleasure!â I smiled wide, hurrying up the ladder, practically racing Simon to the lab computer.
I take a seat on my stool again, waking the screen with a shake of the mouse.
âOh my god, sit UP.âSimon growled, jabbing me in the back as I once again slouched over the keyboard.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Ok. So just imagine this. Logan is ticklish boi. So just imagine all the Sides (and Thomas) just poking his sides and him trying to be serious and pull himself together
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Hey hey, this is a sequel to my fic You Like It, go read that first! I am out here feeding the lee!Geralt needs, lol, I have 2 more Witcher fics already done that are BOTH lee!Geralt, lol. Also, my lee!Geralt will be inconsistent between fics rn because I still havenât decided what I want to do with him yet lol
Fandom:Â The Witcher
Ship(s): Could be gen or romo Geraskier your pick
Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Geralt, Ler!Jaskier
Word Count:Â 3239 words
Summary:Â Jaskier knew that everyone had to be at least a little ticklish somewhere, and he wasnât going to give up until he had Geralt laughing underneath him.
[ao3 link]
ââââââââââ
Geralt had had quite the unfair advantage since heâd found out that Jaskier was ticklish. Quite the embarrassing advantage as well, considering he liked to remind Jaskier how much he knew Jaskier loved it. Jaskier wasnât even sure if the man was trying to tease (or if he even knew how, the stubborn devil), or if he was just being unfairly smug because mentioning it actually got Jaskier to shut up due to embarrassment.
But Jaskier knew that everyone had to be ticklish, even if it was just in one place. He refused to believe that the witcher mutagens coursing through Geraltâs veins robbed him of that, too.
If only Jaskier knew where to start, though. Knew where to look, knew where to poke or prod for a reaction. He couldnât be obvious, then Geralt would just wreck him again (not that he was complaining), and Jaskier would get nowhere.
So Jaskier put the sneaky skills he rarely used to work and simply observed. Frankly, most of his discoveries were on accident, in moments he hadnât even tried to be stealthy and coerce a laugh out of the man.
âThis is not fair, this is not fair, this is not FAIR!â Remus screams broke down into unintelligible laughter, occasionally snorting as Deceit hit yet another tickle spot.
âWhatâs not fair?â Deceit challenged, his two middle hands vibrating their thumbs into Remusâ tummy. âIf I have six arms, Iâm going to use them.â
Remus couldnât respond to that, too busy kicking his legs as Deceit managed to pinch and squeeze at both of his knees at the same time. With his arms being securely pinned by Deceitâs final pair of hands, the creative side had no choice but to take whatever Deceit did to him.
âHm, I think someone might have a little tickle spot or two,â Deceit drawled, completely comfortable as he watched Remus fall apart below him. âDonât struggle, honey. Think of it as just me using a⌠âtactical advantageâ.â
His fingers suddenly skittered outwards to spider up and down Remusâ sides, while his other two hands crawled even lower and started tweaking his toes.
Remus gasped, pulling his arms in any attempt to free himself from Deceitâs grip, but Deceit only laughed.
âOh, does someone think they can escape?â he cooed. âPoor little Remus, stuck in my trap. Nowhere to go and no one to save him!â
Remus was in a giddy panic. The tickles were driving him crazy, and Deceitâs snarky voice felt like bugs crawling across his skin, and he couldnât do this, he was going to die giggling on the floor like a fool all because of Deceit and his goddamn six arms.
Remusâ eyes burst open. Idea.
He let himself fall even further into laughter, thrashing his body and screaming just a bit louder than he naturally would. He snuck a peek at Deceitâs face, took in the joyful expression he got whenever he got the chance to tickle Remus to death, and after a few moments, he felt Deceitâs hands slow, his fingers resting in the dips of Remusâ hips and underneath his toes.
âAw, does somebody need a little break?â he asked sweetly, shifting slightly in his position on Remusâ hips. âGet your breath back, darling, because when I start again Iâm not stopping-â
In a flash, Remus was lunging at Deceit, startling him enough to make him fall backwards and accidentally release Remusâ hands. With the agility of a man whoâd spent his entire life dueling with his brother, Remus threw himself on top of Deceit, reversing their positions.
Deceit paused in shock before laughing incredulously. âOh, if you thought it was bad before, you are gonna get it now-â
But Remus only grinned, because at that moment there was a flurry of movement and green, slimy skin, and suddenly Deceit was rather thoroughly pinned by Remusâ own tentacles.
There was a beat of silence before Deceit began tugging at his bonds, his cocky expression dropping into one that could only be described as fear.
âLet me up and Iâll do anything you want, anything, Remus, Iâm serious!â
âGiving up already?â Remus asked. Deceit nodded immediately.
âYes, yes, Iâm sorry, Iâm so sorry, please let me go, please donât tickle me-â he babbled. He never was afraid to beg, Remus recalled.
The creative side hummed, pretending to ponder, before shaking his head with a cackle.Â
âNah!â
And with a snap, one tentacle began hovering over Deceitâs torso. It gave a little wave to Deceit, who was still shaking his head and begging for mercy, before coming to play with Deceitâs ribs.
Oh, Remus wished he had a camera with him. To see the great Deceit immediately break down into the most helpless, desperate laughter youâve ever heard, all from one little tentacle playing hopscoth across his ribs.
âRehehehehehemus!â he squealed, voice somehow going even higher when another tentacle starting wiggling along the other side of his ribcage, while even more took their places in all six of his underarms. âPlehehehehehease!â
Remus merely laughed, settling back to watch his tentacles take Deceit apart without him even having to lift a finger.
âAw, donât struggle, honey! You should be proud of me, you know, for using my âtactical advantageâ-â