👉 funny business 👈

Silly Talkin - Text posts Silly Scribbles - Art posts Silly Answers - Responses to asks Silly Words - My writing Silly Tears - Sometimes I do sappy crying art, that goes here Tickle Art - All of my tickle art will have this tag! Others Art - Art Reblogs, can be drawn or written NSFT WARNING - I don't post NSFW often, but when I do I will tag it My OCs - Art and info about my OCs... may not cover everything

More about my OCs:

Silly Coworkers - About a situationship between 2 office workers.

Silly Monsters - 4 tickle monsters living together in captivity, under the watchful eye of a wizard scientist!

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Risio awoke with a start in the dark. He couldn’t immediately remember the details of the dream, but his body seemed to remember. He breathed heavily, and his heart— or whatever was in there— pounded in his chest. Worst of all, he felt a deep, directionless sense of loss. He had tears in his eyes.

It was not a feeling he was entirely unaccustomed to. He had nightmares, had as long as he could remember. They seemed to have gotten worse since arriving in the gaol, though. He’d been meaning to bring it up to Ignatius, but couldn’t figure out how. It seemed silly, not worth mentioning.

Besides, night terrors didn’t really suit him.

He just sat there in the silent darkness, clutching his chest, catching his breath. Straining to remember what the dream had been about.

Details came back to him in brief flashes; he was running through the woods— no idea why, where to, or from what— and the others were running with him. He was trying to keep up, but the foliage got thicker and thicker and before long he lost sight of all of them. He yelled for them, but no sound came out.

Just thinking about it made a lump form in his throat. It shouldn’t have been that upsetting, but for some reason it was. He couldn’t shake the feeling of terror, grief, panic that still coursed through him. It made his hands shake.

He wasn’t getting back to sleep. His head was a cacophony of directionless, confusing anxiety, and every time he closed his eyes he was afraid that when he opened them he’d be sitting in the forest amongst the thick ensnaring foliage, scared and alone.

He got out of bed. Stupid as it was, he needed to check. Make sure the others were asleep in their beds, that everything was okay. That the dream really wasn’t real. Or a bad omen, or whatever.

Greary was the next door down. Sleeping peacefully, long raven hair coiling prettily on his sheets and pillow. Peet’s room was across the hallway from Greary, and when Risio peeked in he was snoring softly and hugging his pillow.

Mirt’s room was directly across the hallway from Risio’s, and Risio breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the door to his usual nighttime tranquility. He smiled in his sleep.

They were all fine. Everything was normal. Nothing to worry about.

He stood there and stared at Mirt as he slept for a moment. Hoped his comfort and calm might rub off on him somehow.

“You good, Risio?” The sleeping monster murmured suddenly, without opening his eyes. Risio froze.

Mirt cracked one eye just a sliver.

“Something wrong, mate?” He asked sleepily, but in the same sweet, easygoing way he always would. Risio felt his face get hot; he didn’t want the others to know he was doing this. But now Mirt knew, and he was still feeling shaken enough that he was tempted to say something.

“N-nothing. A nightmare. Just checkin’ on ya.” He huffed out a short, irritated breath. “Go back to sleep.”

Mirt let his response hang in the cool night air for a moment before responding, and for a second Risio thought he had, indeed, fallen back asleep.

“Mm… a nightmare?” He slurred. “C’mere.” He patted the spot on the pillow next to him, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

“Whaddaya think I am? A little kid?” Risio raised his voice just above a whisper, feeling his cheeks get hotter. “It was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare.”

Mirt didn’t respond, just pulled his arms from beneath the sheets and held them outstretched in Risio’s direction. Eyes still closed, still smiling sweetly.

Risio let out a tense sigh. He was tired. He was cold.

He wordlessly climbed into Mirt’s bed, into Mirt’s arms, under the blanket. Mirt’s claws came to rest on his back, just barely reaching around his trunk. He rested his cheek on Mirt’s gracile chest, felt tears well in his tired eyes again.

He was expecting Mirt to say or do something else, but he seemed to have quickly drifted back off to sleep.

It was an odd feeling; was it relief? Fear? He’d felt briefly like he’d never see Mirt again, and now he was sleeping in his arms. Happy? He was so happy and so sad at the same time. His heart— or whatever was in there— hurt, his chest felt tight.

He sniffled, and tears burned his eyes. To his mortification, he felt Mirt’s palm gently rub up and down his back.

“It’s okay…” He whispered, so softly it was barely audible even in the silence of the night.

Risio woke up giggling.

“Whahaha— waiheeheet!” He squeaked, disoriented and groggy. Mirt gently poked his belly a few more times under the covers.

“Lookie here, I’ve got a little stowaway, haven’t I?” Mirt teased playfully. “When’d you sneak in here?” Risio cackled, kicked his feet and rolled back and forth on Mirt’s bed.

“Mihihihirt you ahahahass!”

“I suppose I shouldn’t question such a lovely gift, hmm? Not every day I get breakfast in bed…” Mirt made a silly om-nom-nom sound, buried his velvety snout in Risio’s neck and nipped at him softly with his lips. Risio screamed with laughter, but part of him melted.

“Love to start my day off right with a lovely little salad, I do! Mm mm mm!”

“GAHAHAD SHUT UHUHUHUP! Get OFFA me!”

Risio could only barely get the words out before his squirming sent him tumbling mercifully onto the floor. Mirt giggled giddily, peered over the side of the bed with a sheepish grin.

“Whoopsie.”

Risio groaned, propped himself up on his elbows.

“Aw, cram it. That was on purpose.”