anasticklefics
Ana's tickle fics
I'm Ana. 20+. She/they. Tickle fic writer.
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Was wondering if me writing a Dune fic had been a fever dream, but here it is lmao. Can’t wait to watch part 2
Distracted
Fandom: Dune
Characters: Paul, Duncan
Summary: Paul is distracted during practice.
A/N: So I wrote this when I first saw Dune with the hopes of eventually expanding it, maybe with two more scenes including other characters (I did write one with Gurney), but I find myself in a writing slump that I don’t want to try to get out of by writing fanfiction, so I decided to just post this and see how it does. Maybe I’ll post the Gurney one later too, and eventually write that third part I was thinking of. I just have to accept I’m not the fic writer I used to be anymore and that this is the best I can do. I still like it well enough to want to share it, because god knows I have plenty of finished fics or wips on google drive.
Anyway, this doesn’t include proper spoilers I don’t think, but if you haven’t seen the movie or read the book and want to go in knowing nothing I would advice you skip this one.
Words: 753
It had been another night filled with those dreams, where Paul’s body had been asleep but his mind had been engaged the entire time. He always felt weird waking up from those. Strangely wary, his mind going from a reel to a halt without his permission.
“You’re distracted.”
It would take an idiot not to notice it that day, but Paul knew better than to think Duncan didn’t have him entirely figured out. It was almost embarrassing how well the swordmaster could read him. Paul didn’t doubt he possessed the skill the very day he started training him, when Paul had barely been tall enough to reach his elbow, but as he’d practically grown up in front of him it was a skill that had been honed until Paul could barely sigh without Duncan Idaho knowing why.
He moved his gaze to the older man. “I’ve told you of my dreams.”
“Ah, yes.” Duncan rotated his wrists. “You know, normal boys dream of girls. Or glory.”
There was a girl in Paul’s dreams, but he hadn’t mentioned her. Knowing he would be teased for it and knowing she was more than a girl in his dreams anyway. Too early to share her, he’d decided. “It’s not my fault.”
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nevermind
working on a fic 👀
#text#lmaaaooo#sorry#gonna finish it eventually#I'm so slow now#and picky#I want it to be good#or at least not BAD
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RAH WELCOME BACK TO JT ALL!!!!!! HAPPY 2024
HAPPY 2024!!
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what fandoms are you into atm 👀
Omg I don’t even know?? I’m behind on everything lmaaoo 😩
#ask#haven’t seen the new seasons of good omens yet#behind on marvel movies and shows#man what else#don’t remember the latest tua season very well#sooooo anything and nothing?? lmaaaooo#surprise me 🤠
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you have no idea how happy i am to see you pop up on my dash !!
hope 2024 has been kind to you so far <3
🥺🥺🥺 LOVE YOU ANON
2024 is going great for me so far! I hope it’s treating you well as well 💕
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Night One
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: Crowley/Aziraphale
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale don’t talk about what they are unless the angel brings it up. If he doesn’t, it’s the first night of three they will enjoy together before it changes. It’s always been like this.
A/N: Written for TickleTober day 2 for the prompt “feathers” TECHNICALLY, but it’s obviously being posted super early because I’m impatient….
Words: 790
Crowley could sometimes feel Aziraphale’s wings brush past him; the tip of the feathers on his shoulder blade or arm or kneecap depending on where they were, how they were. Crowley had once called theirs the longest on-and-off relationship in the history of everything, and Azi, amused by his frustration, had chuckled and agreed.
They were good that night, not just on the same page, let’s ignore the rest type of good, but the outings, laughter, cuddling type of good. Crowley’s favorite kind. It made him drop his guard a little too much, he had to admit, but until he started questioning, until Aziraphale started hinting, they would usually have three nights of no doubt. They were on the first night, the most thrilling and dangerous night.
Aziraphale was watching him. Crowley could feel it. His angel was one question away from transforming this into something entirely else. Crowley could either flee or pull him close. Had never considered anything else.
He didn’t meet his gaze, a silent warning, almost, that he wasn’t in the mood to sit in his car for three hours and be mad at him. Not that he never made mistakes, but his were usually a slip of the tongue. Aziraphale’s were always thought out; hope making him talk even though Crowley kept claiming he wasn’t ready.
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Not An Ideal Solution
Fandom: The Umbrella Academy
Characters: Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves
Summary: Klaus keeps asking Diego to tie him up whenever things seem a little too hard and he needs to see Dave’s face. It becomes the perfect opportunity for them to bond.
A/N: I made up my own ending to season 1, with everything being solved, but with old demons still present. The tickling that occurs in this fic is not meant to be a solution to anything, but a mere distraction in the moment. I hope I made my intentions clear. I hope you like it!
Warnings: Mentions of drug addictions, relapses, death. Also tickling with restraints, in case that’s not your thing. Oh and spoilers for season one, of course.
Words: 2 235
When Klaus was struggling, he asked Diego to tie him up. It wasn’t an ideal solution, something his brother kept trying to drill into his head, but Klaus knew his limits, and therefore he knew his weaknesses, or so he claimed.
“Trust me when I say I only ask you to do this when it’s unbearable.”
Diego believed him.
He honestly had no idea why they all kept hanging around even after saving the world from the apocalypse. An old habit maybe, or a semi-misguided opinion that they were more in control if they were together. Or maybe he’d missed them all, but he wasn’t about to tell them. All he knew was that he spent more time with his siblings than he’d had in years, and that resulted in more than a few surprise visits.
Usually they were done by Klaus. Diego regretted the day he’d found out where he lived.
“How did you get in here?”
“I need your help,” Klaus said, ignoring him entirely. “Now.”
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Thunderstorms - Tony's Day
Fandom: MCU
Characters: Tony Stark, Thor
Summary: Thor helps distract Tony from a thunderstorm.
A/N: The first fic for my Avengers tickle fic week!
Words: 1 467
Tony didn’t like storms. He wasn’t afraid of them, mind you, but growing up in California, on Italian beaches, being able to go to warmer weather the moment he felt like it, had left a distaste for rain in his mouth. He viewed it as something to flee from.
Thunderstorms were a whole other matter. They left him on edge, knowing he would have no say in whether or not lighting would strike on him or his loved ones. He knew from past experiences that he couldn’t keep people inside just because he was a little worried, and nowadays he prefered pretending as if he was completely fine.
“Is this your doing?” he asked Thor, having turned to find the god walking toward where he was curled up on the couch watching the sky light up again and again. Just to keep watch.
“No,” Thor said, sinking down next to him. “I’m afraid it’s more complex than that.”
“But you can control it, right?”
“I can.”
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Unsaid
Fandom: Star Wars
Characters: Poe/Finn
Summary: They land on a planet that has a field that tickles anyone who comes near, and Poe is having one too many feelings about it.
A/N: My first fic back from hiatus! Honestly I’m only posting something because I wrote more than half of this while I was gone, but felt inspired to finish it today. I hope you like it, I’m very proud 🥺
Words: 2k
A breeze of heat ruffled Poe’s hair as he stood at the edge of the Field of Laughter on a planet that had too much of an orange tint for his liking. It reminded him of dry, unforgiving land full of sand and nothing but sand, but mostly it reminded him of the times he’d been stranded, so thirsty he could die, running for his life over the scorching ground. Just last week, that is. It reminded him of being near death, and of watching Finn and Rey getting dragged just out of his reach.
“It’s okay, you know,” Finn told him now, watching Poe as Poe watched the field. “If you want to try it, I mean.”
Poe chanced a glance at him, wondering what the orange tint made his blush look like. “I’m good.”
“Poe.” Finn had mastered the knowing smile he occasionally shot his way wonderfully. An amusement to it, but also something kind that made Poe all the more embarrassed whenever it was aimed at him. Vulnerability, even during the war, was always something that terrified him, even more than the war.
“Really, I’m okay,” he said, averting his gaze back toward the dancing blades of yellow grass. They’d been told the field was bigger than it seemed, twisting and turning behind the mountains and the trees Poe had been surprised to find here. They all looked dead, but were apparently perfectly fine.
“If you’re worried someone will see or hear you we could go further.”
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what if I write more than six fics in 2024, wouldn’t that be something
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I hope you all have a great 2024 <3
I hope you all have a great 2023 <3
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This is so kind, thank you!!! 🥺🥺❤️❤️
The In Between
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: Crowley/Aziraphale (very pre-slash, thanks Aziraphale)
Summary: They meet at the in betweens - between the beginning and the end - and yet Aziraphale refuses to acknowledge what they’ve been through. It hurts Crowley more than he can explain.
Words: 1 284
They met at the start of the world, and they met at the potential end. But during the in between, they did more than meet.
Crowley had accepted that Aziraphale refused to acknowledge the in between when they met again during emergencies, but he remembered. He remembered the walks along the Nile, watching Egypt thrive. Cleopatra’s reign, the fall of the Roman Empire, the Vikings taking over the sea. He was there for all of them, sometimes with Aziraphale at his side, the latter frowning or smiling depending on what part of history they were witnessing.
Crowley remembered the meals shared in small taverns on Greek side streets, both remembering when those lands were a battlefield.
“I talked to Homer once, you know,” Azi had said, his eyes on the cobblestone. “I asked him to write it all down.”
They met on the mountainside in China, took a short trip through Mogadishu, once had lunch in Moscow. On one particularly rough night they stayed at a motel in California, like some sort of cliché. But he remembered the week in Bolivia the most. They truly had had no reason to stay a week. Aziraphale had already purchased his bookstore at that point, and yet they’d stayed, in a small town up north.
Weiterlesen
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It's my 4 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳
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Another Way To Bond
Fandom: Stranger Things
Characters: Steve, Max
Anonymous said: Could you write a fic about ler!Steve and lee!Max from Stranger Things (PLATONIC OBVIOUSLY) where Max is purposely annoying Steve because she’s bored and Steve tickles her?
Words: 835
One thing about the kids - Steve felt he had them mostly figured out and therefore knew how to handle them. He could pinpoint Dustin’s mood from the way he moved and not necessarily from how he spoke (the kid had a tone on most good days too). Even when excited or agitated they spoke pretty much the same way to each other, and thus Steve had learned to read him from the way he sat, hunching over or leaning back, from how he walked with quick steps or much too slow, from how he let his eyes linger or quickly dart away.
As life would have it he started seeing the other kids more and more as well, and even though he never really did it on purpose he found himself cataloging them as he did Dustin, putting pieces together until he eventually had a nearly fully accurate description of how to read (and in turn handle) these teenagers that had grown up way too quickly.
He knew Mike distanced himself because he was scared of loss. He knew Will would never say if something was bothering him because he was scared no one would care. Lucas wanted to help everyone so badly that he ignored his own boundaries. He knew Eleven hated not fitting in so much that she would copy everyone to the most ridiculous details.
And Max? Well, Max wasn’t sure how to stop pushing everyone away, and so she kept resorting to what she knew: sass.
Fortunately - or unfortunately - for her, Steve was all too used to sass.
“Stop,” he said, swatting away her foot. “You’re worse than Dustin.”
“That’s an insult.”
“It was meant to be.”
She huffed, sticking her shoe into his face again. “You’re boring.”
“You’re free to leave.”
“There’s nothing better to do anyway.”
They were sitting on the steps leading up to Eddie’s trailer, Steve waiting for Eddie and Max waiting for god knows what. Max seemed to avoid being at home, but she seemed to avoid purposefully seeking everyone else out too, maybe afraid her mind couldn’t handle it once she got there. With Steve (or maybe more with Eddie - Steve suspected she did this more with him) she could just leave when she felt like it. No commitment. No hurt feelings.
Steve pushed her foot away again, twisting his body to glare up at where she was sitting two steps higher than him. She smiled, not innocently, but provocatively. Steve could see why everyone adored her. Why Lucas was head over heels for her, why Dustin and El fought for the title of her best friend, why Eddie let her hang around even though they had nothing in common. Why Steve himself would protect her with his life like he protected the others.
He huffed and looked away, hoping his thoughts weren’t written on his face because how cheesy was that? Fortunately Max didn’t seem to be done tormenting him because her red shoe was in his face again, this time tapping his ear and Steve had had enough, his dealing with Dustin instincts kicking in as he grabbed her ankle. “Stop.”
“Make me.” She said it before she started tugging at her leg and realizing she couldn’t escape his grip. “Let go.” Her tone, albeit in a subtle way, was less cocky now.
“No. You need to learn some manners.” Without thinking he started scribbling his fingers over the back of her knee, making her jerk away with a sudden, panicked laugh. “Oh, really? I didn’t think a little tickling would be your weakness.”
“Don’t,” she said, her voice laced with laughter. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”
“Mm, no. I think I need to make sure you won’t do it again first.”
“Steve, I’m warning yo-AH!”
Steve had gone for her knee cap this time, spidering his nails over it in a way he knew made Dustin freak, and while Max’s reactions were smaller, more calm, it seemed to be doing the trick anyway. She curled in on herself, hands flailing, seemingly unsure of how to react since Steve had her leg trapped. He tried to make sure she didn’t hurt herself, tickling and pausing and tickling and pausing in order to keep her from sliding down the stairs or hitting her head against the railing. His repetitive stopping made her laughter choppy, which was cute.
“Is your calf ticklish?”
“No!”
“I feel like you’re lying.”
She managed to grab the back of his shirt as he pinched her calf, pulling weakly at him without much success at whatever she was trying to do. “Stop!”
“This? This is called revenge. And I’ve only been at it for a minute.”
She groaned through her laughter and Steve was so focused on how her leg vibrated each time he tickled it that he didn’t notice his grip loosening until a foot came flying for his face.
That was how Eddie found them, residual giggles pouring out of Max’s mouth, and blood pouring out of Steve’s nose.
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Nighttime Giggles
Fandom: Stranger Things
Characters: Lucas/Max
Anonymous said: I loved the fic you wrote for Lucas/Max from Stranger Things and I was wondering if you’d be interested in writing for them again? If so, I’d love to see something about the whole group having a sleepover maybe, and Max can’t sleep and the two of them have a nice little nighttime chat complete with some gentle tickles and hushed giggling?
A/N: Omg how did it take me a year and a half to write barely 700 words... Anon, if you’re out there, I’m sorry and I hope you liked this if you read it
Words: 700 ish
Lucas noticed her leaving, but didn’t instantly follow. Knowing Max, she most likely wanted a moment to breathe on her own, especially at night, when she let her guard down the most. She’d let Lucas in many times, but he still felt wary of crossing a line he’d not noticed, and so he waited. Dustin was mumbling something in his sleep, while Mike was mumbling something into El’s ear, earning a stifled giggle. Will was quiet. It wasn’t common for them to have an actual sleepover that didn’t involve everyone falling asleep like dominoes throughout the night in Mike’s basement while working a monster case. Not anymore. They’d used to, way back when, before Max and El. Lucas felt oddly weird about it now, not used to having Max on one side and Will on the other.
Lucas got up and left the basement silently, - because where else would six people fit? - ascending the Wheeler’s stairs and crossing the hallway until he came to a halt in the kitchen. Max was sitting by the table, the room illuminated only by a single lamp by the window. Her back was toward him.
“Hey,” he said gently, although he was sure she’d heard him.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing?”
“Drawing.”
Lucas walked closer. “What is it?”
She shrugged, finally turning to look at him. She seemed tired, but Lucas knew she’d not been able to sleep recently. “I’m not sure.”
He leaned over her, looking at the notebook. It really wasn’t looking like anything yet, but who was Lucas to tell. “It’s pretty.”
Max snorted, rolling her eyes when Lucas looked at her. “Thank you,” she said, grinning up at him in a way that made Lucas smile right back.
He sat beside her, their arms touching. Max had resumed her drawing, and Lucas was watching her quietly. He was used to watching people draw; had spent years watching Will doodle in notebooks and textbooks. It helped calm her down, whether she was drawing out something that was on her mind or simply allowing her pencil to take the lead. He wasn’t sure what it was this time, and he wasn’t sure if he should ask. She was focusing on the page before her, focused on turning it into something new, but Lucas could feel her energy shift from the drawing to him and back, constantly ping-ponging between them, as if she, too, was unsure of what to do.
Lucas made a move to get up, hating to be disturbing her, but she grabbed his wrist. “Stay.”
“But I’m tired,” he said, an attempt at teasing as he lowered himself back onto the chair. “Aren’t you?”
“Not really.”
“Liar. I can see you fighting off a yawn.” He poked her cheek and she laughed, her walls down, both safe within the semi-darkness of the empty room, the empty story of the house.
“Maybe you’re just boring me,” she said..
“Oh, well, excuse me for trying to be nice to you.”
It was a game. Their tones light, all smiles, all love. Lucas had missed that. They rarely laughed nowadays.
Lucas poked her stomach this time. “I want an apology.”
She swatted his hand away with a sound he knew as her panicked laugh which she tried to smother on the way out, usually only heard when he tickled her. “Never.”
He grinned. It wasn’t the time or place for a tickle fight, but he could make her giggle just a little bit.
“Come here,” he said, snaking his arm around her. “Bed time.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” she said, playfully elbowing him in the side.
“No, but this finger is.” He poked her again, this time in the ribs, and she let out a strangled sound which Lucas adored.
“Not here,” she hissed, dropping her facade. “We’ll wake everyone.”
“So come to bed then.” He squeezed her side with the hand he had around her, smiling when she giggled and moved closer to him on instinct. “And maybe I’ll stop. Or maybe I won’t.”
“You’re so annoying.” But she followed him back downstairs, holding onto him until they both fell asleep.
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