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#u HAVE to tell me
mushiewrites · 1 year
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Handsy Hyperfixation
so.....to give an idea of what this monster of a fic is, @awkwardtickleetoo wanted me to name this "Mushie's Self Indulgent Hand Fic", and in my google docs this is labeled "passing out throwing up"...so yeah. this was made back in december and i randomly wrote out 4k words one morning in a frenzy after a picture of dream's hands and thinking about how big they are...and now here we are, over 3k additional words later. it is honestly the most flustering thing I've written yet (to me), cal and i have had trouble even reading through it before it was finished... so yep. here it is! the mega self indulgent hand fic. i hope u all enjoy 😵‍💫
dream catches george starring at his hands from across the room, so he decides to give george a closer look at how much bigger they are than his, and what they're actually capable of
(lee!George / ler!Dream : 7.2k words 🫠)
Four. That’s how many times Dream had counted that George was staring at him. Although, he couldn’t tell if it really counted as staring at him; the brunette was clearly focused on his hands. He had noticed for a while now, even before today, that he would catch George staring at them whenever he would do anything with his hands. At first he figured George would be just watching whatever he’d be doing, but after a while he caught on; it was actually just his hands.
Now, Dream had a theory about why. George was so much smaller than him, and the elder loved to point it out; even more so now that they lived together. In the first two days that George was in Florida he had somehow managed to wrangle up four of Dream’s hoodies, two T-Shirts and a pair of OU sweatpants that he had no idea how George would ever be able to wear them. 
George had pointed out multiple times how much bigger Dream’s hands are, how they completely engulf his fist and some of his wrist. The blonde would let him take his hand and compare it with his own, still commenting on how much larger they were. Dream didn’t think it was weird in the slightest, but he noticed that the more time that passed, the more and more he caught George staring. It had been the fourth time in the last hour, with the older boy thinking he was going unnoticed.  Though in reality, Dream was sure he’d feel his stare from a mile away. 
“Are you really staring at them again?” Dream watched as the sudden question made George jump, wide eyes staring back at him with his cheeks turning a dusty pink as the realization hit that he’d been caught. The younger boy giggled at the way George’s jaw had slightly dropped and how quickly he had closed it with a nervous gulp.
“Staring at what, idiot? I’m not staring at anything!” George spat out after a very tense few seconds while he wracked his brain for things to say. Dream giggled at his sorry excuse of an answer and held up his hands, wiggling his fingers slightly. A smirk formed on his face as he watched George’s cheeks go from pink to red at the action, causing the older boy to break eye contact and look anywhere but at him. 
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, George,” the smaller boy shuddered at the accusation, looking up briefly when he saw Dream stand up from the couch and walk over to where he was on the other end. “My hands, idiot.” 
“What about your stupid hands?” George bit back, clearly flustered at the prospect of having to admit the truth. Dream’s smirk grew even more as he reached his destination, his knees knocking into George’s as he looked down at him. 
“You were staring. Don’t deny it, I caught you red handed George.” Dream was quick to shut George down when he saw his mouth open to protest, making sure he knew that Dream knew his little secret. 
“Y-You’re an actual idiot. You’re the idiot! Why would I be looking at your stupid- HEHEHEY!” George was cut off mid-argument when he felt two squeezes on his sides, making him fall back further into the couch cushions. 
He brought his legs up to his chest out of habit to protect himself, but he quickly realized he had set himself up as Dream squeezed at the back of his thighs, making him scream out and kick his feet up. This only encouraged Dream to grab one of the flailing ankles, gripping it tightly as he scribbled his nails quickly up and down George’s foot. The older boy squealed and fell to his side, giving Dream the opportunity to grab the other ankle and yank them down so his legs were flat against the couch cushions. Once he forcefully maneuvered the smaller boy to lay on his back, Dream straddled his waist, successfully trapping him. 
George was frantically kicking his feet against the couch, trying to dig his heel into it to gain leverage to buck Dream off but finding it harder than he thought it would be. He pushed himself up onto his elbows to try and fully sit up, hoping maybe there was a chance he could get Dream quick enough to make him crumble, but was immediately pushed back down by one of Dream’s hands against his chest. George let out a desperate whine, pushing at Dream’s knees as a last resort to try and loosen the grip they had around his waist but finding it impossible to move him. He was truly fucked. 
“Am I the idiot? I’d say an idiot is more like someone in your situation right now, Georgie.” Dream chuckled as he grabbed George’s sides once more to make him buck his hips up with a yelp. The blonde noticed that George still wasn’t looking at him, and Dream could tell he was almost too flustered to function. 
“Sh-Shuhut uhup!” George replied through his giggles. He did his best to sound intimidating, but he knew it was impossible with all his squeaks and noises. He threw his head back against the couch cushions with a cackle as Dream moved his hands up to his ribcage, squirming as the tickly feeling spread throughout his ribs. 
“Look at that, George! My hands basically cover your entire rib cage,” Dream fanned his fingers out as far as they’d go, smiling down at George as he confirmed they did in fact reach from the top of his ribs to the bottom, even a little on the boy's sides as well. “You’re just so tiny, I guess it makes sense.” 
George felt as if his head would pop at any second, his mind so floaty he felt like an overly filled balloon. He couldn’t do anything but laugh and watch as Dream’s fingers covered the expanse of his upper torso. He squeezed his eyes closed after a few seconds and brought his hands up to hide behind them, too flustered to continue seeing himself getting tickled to pieces.
But Dream was right; George WAS staring at his hands. It started a few months ago when they had been arguing over something, George stealing the remote or Dream’s phone. He was fast but Dream was strong, and so when he finally caught up to the smaller boy, Dream had gripped his wrist to stop him from getting away. The way one of Dream’s hands had completely wrapped around both of George’s wrists had him feeling faint. He swore he was genuinely dizzy when he realized how much bigger Dream actually was than him. 
“I have an idea!” George flinched as Dream broke the silence once more, cracking one eye open to see the bright smile above him. He noticed movement below his vision and leaned his head up slightly, eyes widening in horror as Dream pressed the heel of his hand into his lower tummy, moving it teasingly to make the older boy squeak out a giggle. He placed the rest of his hand down on George’s tummy, spreading his fingers out and pressing the tips of them into the soft skin below. 
“Why don’t we see how many spots I can reach with just one hand?” 
The second George’s mind registered what Dream suggested he froze, staring up into bright green eyes with a tiny nervous giggle slipping out. It was like his brain short circuited - he couldn’t find the words to protest; he couldn’t form words to describe how much that idea had flustered him. 
When he finally had the ability to move his body again he immediately pushed up, trying to launch himself forward to knock Dream off of him to escape. It turns out that Dream had anticipated this and pressed down on George’s stomach, keeping the smaller boy in place. George let out a whine, kicking his legs in a mix of frustration and excitement when he realized he truly was stuck beneath Dream’s hand on his tummy. 
“P-Please Dream! Don’t!” He managed to keep his giggles down as he felt Dream pulse his fingers against his skin once, using just enough pressure for it to tickle but not for it to be unbearable. George knew it was on purpose; if Dream wanted it to really tickle, it would’ve tickled like hell. 
“Why not, George? You seemed to be so interested in my hands before, I figured you’d like a closer look! And I’m even showing you them in action! Aren’t I nice?” As Dream spoke he began to do the jellyfish technique of dragging his fingertips together in the center of his tummy before fanning them back out, taking George by surprise and causing him to squeal. He fell into high pitched giggles as Dream continued to slowly and gently drag his fingertips in and out, following the jumpy tummy even as it squirmed away. 
Even though George wanted to return a snarky comment Dream’s way, he was unable to with how hard he was laughing. Dream had managed to position his ring finger over his ribs, digging right into the muscle between the bones. Once Dream realized this was a more sensitive spot for George, he used more pressure, giggling quietly himself as the boy beneath him practically convulsed with ticklish energy. 
“I said, aren’t I nice?” With that, Dream pressed into his lower ribs on the other side of George with his thumb, watching as the brunettes struggling became more frantic. 
“Y-YEHEHES YES! PLEHEASE NOHOHO! I’M SORRY DREHEHEAM!” Dream chuckled at his friend's reaction, shaking his head slightly as he continued to wiggle his fingertip’s into the quivering tummy. He leaned forward, using his free hand to press down slightly on George’s shoulder to keep him in place. 
“I’m sorry George, but it’s a little too late for apologies now.” Dream let out an overexaggerated sigh, playing up the disappointment before suddenly digging his fingers into George’s tummy, vibrating his hand as well. George let out a shriek, kicking and thrashing and grabbing at Dream’s hand to try and pull it off his stomach.
But Dream was having none of this. He easily scooped up George’s wrists in one hand, pressing them against his chest to keep them out of the way. Dream placed his hand back down onto George’s tummy, his fingertips almost reaching where he was keeping the older boy’s hands hostage. He wasted no time in digging back in, vibrating a little quicker to punish George for interrupting him in the first place. 
“PLEHEASE D-DREHEAM I CAHAN’T- I CAHAHAN’T BREHEATHE!” The brunette shrieked between his cackles, squeezing his eyes even tighter as he pulled at his hands to try and break free from Dream’s grip. Just as he had suspected, nothing worked. 
“You’re speaking George, that means you’re breathing. You’re just dramatic.” Dream replied nonchalantly, still slowing down to make sure George was okay. The smaller boy was taking in gulps of air between his laughter, Dream still digging in slightly but not as intense as before. He slowly allowed his fingers to come to a stop, staying in place against the warm skin. 
“O-Ohoho my gosh. W-Why?” he panted out, opening his eyes again just to give Dream his best puppy dog eyes in the hopes that he would take mercy on him and leave him (and the subject matter) alone. 
“Because, I’m just giving you what you want, Georgie,” Dream began, letting go of the boy’s wrists but grabbing one of his hands to lightly drag his thumb over the back of it to help comfort him. “We both know you were thinking about how much my hands tickle. And we both know it tickles so much because you’re so small, and my hands are so big that they cover most of your spots at one time.” 
The comment made George’s cheeks heat up, feeling as if tiny fireworks were bursting out of the freckles on his skin. He brought his free hand up to slap it over his face, hiding as much of himself as he could to try and relieve some of the embarrassment. A long whine made its way up his throat and passed through his lips without his permission, making him squirm even more due to how flustering the situation was. 
Dream barked out a laugh at that, letting George continue to hide himself as he turned his attention back to his hand on the tummy between his thighs. He pressed his fingertips against George’s stomach a few times, earning a squeak and a kick from him as well as a few stray giggles. 
“Let’s just see what spots I can reach, shall we?” The blonde didn’t wait for George to answer, instead stilling all of his fingers except his thumb that was pressing repeatedly into the lower ribs and upper side on the left of George’s body. Dream watched as he threw his body to the right, attempting to escape from the pokes and prods that were sending tiny sparks of ticklish bolts throughout his left side. 
“See, this is a good spot that my thumb is resting against,” Dream pressed in a little quicker with his thumb on George’s lower ribs to emphasize which spot he was talking about. “It lets me get your extremely ticklish bottom ribs, and it lets me press into your extremely ticklish sides! Sounds extremely ticklish, huh George?” 
Too busy laughing, George was only able to nod his head in agreement, causing Dream to coo at him and apply more pressure. This caused George’s legs to start kicking against the couch cushions again, this time a little more sporadic due to the tickly sensations that were shooting into his side and down his leg. Dream began to rub circles into the bottom two ribs, making George buck up with a screech before he reached down to pull at Dream’s hand once again. 
“Ah ah ah, no blocking me! You know what that means.” George’s eyes snapped open, flinging his hand away from his face and silently pleading up at Dream while shaking his head back and forth frantically. 
“I-I’m sohohorry! I promise I wohon’t dohoho it again!” The smaller boy tried his hardest to make sure Dream knew he was serious, but it seemed he didn’t care in the slightest whether George was actually sorry or not. He shook his head at the boy below him and smirked, grabbing the hand that George had tried to use to stop him and placing it down to his side against the couch. Dream moved his knee over George’s wrist, keeping it in place so that he once again had a free hand. 
“I’m sorry baby, but rules are rules! Now, back to what I was saying,” Dream began to continue, earning a surprised squeak from George as the hand against his tummy sprung back to life, the thumb resuming the light circles along the boy’s very sensitive bottom ribs. “This is just such a good spot. One of my favorites. Never fails to make you laugh, does it?” 
Dream could feel the hand under his knee attempt to wiggle free, so he leaned more of his weight against it, careful not to hurt George but enough that he had absolutely no hope of escaping. The older boy was practically howling at the way Dream was rubbing circles into the bottom rib, thrashing and trying to roll over to cover the spot and dislodge the tickling hand. 
After a few more minutes the circles turned into a palm pressed against that spot, rubbing slightly to help the ghost tickles subside. Dream waited until George’s laughter had calmed down to light giggling before he decided to continue with the task at hand. He pressed his pointer finger into the skin, feeling the inner edge of George’s rib and moving it slightly to press around the spaces between both sides of his ribcage. 
“My pointer finger can reach the middle of your ribs and upper tummy, how does that feel, pretty boy? Hm?” He followed the question with a series of small but powerful pokes, making George kick every time Dream landed one on his ribs. The taunting tone of his voice made it even harder for George to focus on anything but the teases and how badly it tickled. He truly was a flustered mess. 
“I-Ihihit t-tihihickles!” George couldn’t help but bring his free hand back over his face, embarrassed by how squeaky and high pitched he sounded through his giggles. Dream smiled at how adorable the sight was, using his pointer finger to do little swirls with his nail. This made George’s giggles jump even higher in pitch, making him shake his head and pull at his wrist in an attempt to hide himself even further.
“It does, huh? Right here, on your ticklish little ribs?” George whined through his laughter at that, turning his head to the side and throwing his arm over his face to hide how red it was becoming. Dream giggled, continuing to tease him as he tapped a few times on his skin before kneading in a bit. “It tickles right here, George?” 
The older boy could do nothing but nod at Dream’s question, the description he asked so nonchalantly making George’s head spin. He kept his arm over his face even as Dream decided to use a good amount of pressure to knead circles against the bones. George was wailing at this technique that was clearly tickling him silly. Dream couldn’t help but laugh along with him, finding George’s laughter to always be so contagious. He watched the brunette thrash himself from side to side like a squirmy little worm, making that comment out loud to him just to watch the tips of George’s ears turn red as well. 
“Wow, this really is a good spot, isn’t it sweetheart? You’re laughing your little heart out! You’re just a squirmy little ticklish worm, aren’t you?” The blonde cooed, making George squeeze his eyes shut even more. He knew his face was covered but he felt so exposed and so vulnerable under Dream’s hand like this. He couldn’t understand why, but he fucking loved it. 
“Okay, let’s give this sensitive little spot a break. How about we go on to the next spot?” Dream asked, not waiting for an answer as he poked his middle finger against the skin a little below his sternum three times. George jolted upwards, not laughing as hard as the previous spot but still cackling enough to let Dream know that what he was doing was working. 
“D-Dreheheam please! I cahan’t take ihihit!” George whined through his giggles, finally moving his arm away from his face and opening his eyes to plead once again with Dream. The taller boy flashed his white teeth at him through a big smile, shaking his head back at him slowly. 
“I’ve seen you take much worse than this! This is nothing,” Dream explained, as if George wasn’t the one experiencing the tickling. “You’re just a little overly sensitive today, that’s all.”
The elder rolled his eyes at that, earning a quick squeeze to the upper thigh from Dream’s free hand and making him shriek before falling back into bright giggles as the feeling disappeared as quickly as it came. 
“N-Nohohot fair, Dream!” George pouted through his jagged breathing, not appreciating the sudden squeeze to his death spot for simply rolling his eyes.
“Awh,” Dream’s caring smile was shining through for a few seconds before a more devious smirk appeared in its place, a menacing giggle spilling out from the younger boy before he continued his teasing. “Is the poor baby too sensitive? Too ticklish? Too small to defend himself?” 
George pondered the question before he slowly nodded his head, flinging his free arm back over his face to hide the returning blush. He heard Dream giggle above him, sounding much closer than anticipated. A soft breeze to his ear was enough to make him start giggling again as Dream began to whisper into his ear, giving him goosebumps and making him shudder at the tickly vibrations that came with it. George could hear the teasy-ness dripping from Dream’s words as he continued to mess with him.
“That sounds like a you problem, angel.” 
The words sent shivers down George’s spine, feeling how much Dream was loving being able to rip the smaller boy to little ticklish shreds. He knew the exact teases and spots that got to George in the cruelest ways, and Dream was using Every. Single. One. And considering they had only just reached the third finger, George wondered how he’d ever survive this. 
“Okay, now that we’ve established you’re too small, sensitive and flustered to do anything, let’s continue.” The blonde had pressed his lips against George’s ear this time, allowing the vibrations from the low tone of his voice to travel from his ear down his spine. Another chill had him shuddering as Dream pulled back, sitting straight up and readjusting his position to make sure George’s arm wouldn’t break free from below his knee. 
“D-Do wehehe have to continue? Aren’t you….bored? Isn’t there… something else you’d like to behehe doing?” The smaller boy squeaked out, trying but painfully failing to convince Dream that there were better things to do. George moved his arm slightly to watch as the boy above him quirked an eyebrow up in confusion, a dopey grin spreading across his face at George’s pathetic attempt at stopping him. 
Dream let out a low chuckle, the kind that made George want to curl in on himself from how menacing it sounded. He immediately threw his arm back over his face out of embarrassment, but Dream grabbed it with one of his hands and brought it down to join the other hand under one of Dream’s knees. George let out a long whine, shaking his head up with wide eyes. This only made Dream bark out another laugh at the sight. 
“Something else I’d be doing? Like what? Laying on the couch? Napping? Editing?” Dream scrunched his nose at the suggestions, shaking his head slightly as he weighed the options. “Absolutely not. I’d rather be right here, tickling you to bits.” 
“Nohohoho!” George giggled at that, a loud cackle following as Dream slowly dug his fingertips into the older boy's tummy. He wiggled them slightly with enough pressure to keep George laughing, shaking his head himself as he protested Dream’s actions. He tried to wiggle his hips to move the tickly fingers, but he was stuck between the two thighs keeping his arms pinned. It was then he realized how stuck he actually was. Dream watched as the brunette gulped, staring back up at him with a nervous smile. 
“Yehehes!” Dream mocked George, making the smaller boy whine and look to the side, finally breaking eye contact. “What’s wrong Georgie, too ticklish? Can’t handle it?” 
Dream still his fingers, only poking into the skin with his middle finger once more. George shook his head a little faster, squeaking as he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth while he tried to hold his laughter in. But Dream wasn’t having this. He used his middle finger to wiggle it a little to the side, just barely grazing the start of one of George’s rib bones. He nearly bucked Dream off with how hard he threw his body around. 
“Oh, that’s a good spot, huh George?” The brunette heard Dream’s question, but he couldn’t speak even if he had wanted to. “Right here, on your little ribs again? I’d say this is probably your worst spot, wouldn’t you?”
“S-Stohop Dreheheam! P-Plehease!” George pleaded with Dream, again trying his hand at Dream’s famous puppy eyes. However, the younger boy seemed to be immune to this tactic at the current moment, completely focused on pressing his middle finger to the left and right to make sure he was scraping at the tips of his inner ribs. 
“Stop? Okay George, I’ll stop.” The blonde smiled down at him, removing both hands and holding them out in front of him. George let out a sigh of relief, finally able to take a full breath. But this relief was short lived as he watched two hands dart back to his ribs, digging in quickly and vibrating against George’s bones. Dream leaned down again, pressing lips to the boy's bright red ear. “I’ll stop tickling when you stop being so ticklish.” 
George felt goosebumps rise on his skin, something that only happens when he gets extremely flustered. Dream knew this, and he raised his eyebrows with a huge grin, comparable to a little kid on Christmas morning. He paused his tickling, sitting back slightly so he could look at George fully.
“Oh, that got to you, huh? What was it this time? The way I said I was going to stop and didn’t? The way I mentioned how ticklish you were?” Dream watched the boy squirm beneath him as he tried to hide his face in his shoulder. “Or was it both? Tell me kitten, what one is it?”.
The elder just squirmed more under Dream’s intense stare, waiting for an answer from him. George stuttered through his reply, not able to think clearly due to how flustered he was. It came out quieter than he’d meant it to be, barely above a whisper as he answered Dream’s question. 
“Uhm, t-the third option.” 
Dream cooed at that, bringing a hand to his cheek to rub one of his thumbs under George’s eye. He felt as the smaller boy relaxed into the touch, essentially pushing into Dream’s hand and nuzzling his cheek against the skin. This made Dream choke out a squeak, holding in a giggle as George’s stubble tickled the palm of his hand. He had hoped that it’d go unseen but George was smirking at him now, clearly amused with the way he had accidentally tickled the younger boy. 
“Oh be quiet George. We still have two fingers left!” the blonde practically growled at George, causing him to giggle at how serious he looked. Dream leaned down closer to his face, grinning as he continued. “I’m not done playing with my tickle toy, yet.”
The brunette swore the room was spinning, feeling incredibly lightheaded at the new pet name Dream used. George didn’t think it was possible to be more flustered than he already was, but apparently this was a night of discoveries, and he added it to the secret list of things that make him melt into a puddle. 
“Ugh, Dream, you can’t say that.” 
“Why? Because it flusters you? Because it embarrasses you? When are you gonna realize I don’t listen to you? I can say whatever I want. I can do whatever I want.” He chuckled, moving his hands off of his ribs and placing his hand back on George’s stomach, his fingers spread out in the same position as before. George watched as Dream flashed him a bright smile, acting as if he wasn’t currently torturing the absolute hell out of him. “Is that fucking clear?” 
George felt his eyes growing wider and suddenly he was nodding, unable to break eye contact with Dream, as if in a trance. Dream had never spoken to him like this before, at least not this seriously. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was flustered out of his mind or just because it was Dream, but one thing was for sure - he found himself wanting to listen to him. He wanted to do what Dream asked of him. He wanted to make Dream proud. 
“Good boy, Georgie.” Dream knows exactly what that line of praise does to him, and he smirks as he says it. George felt the dizzying feeling once more, knowing that if Dream continues how he is now, he won’t be able to remember his own name. He let out a whine as Dream wiggled his ring finger lightly, squirming slightly to the left to try and relieve the feeling. 
“Stay still for me, okay angel? The more you cooperate, the easier it’s going to be for you.” 
George could only nod in response with a tiny squeak of acknowledgement before breaking out into giggles as Dream pressed his finger a little harder against the right side of his rib cage, rubbing back and forth slowly. This caused George to squeal, a loud cackle following as he kicked as much as he could. To his surprise, he was doing a pretty good job of keeping his upper body still, his body jerking slightly to the side but nothing more than that. 
“See, it’s not so bad, huh?” Dream was speaking softer than before as he watched George’s eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment. He smiled fondly down at him, moving his ring finger between the spaces of the ribs he could reach. Dream let out a small strained whine when he wasn’t able to get to as many of the bones as he’d like. 
“Nohoho it ihihis still bahahad!” George continued to try and speak through his laughter, making Dream break out into airy giggles while he continued to wiggle his fingers along the sensitive skin of George’s torso.
“Okay, still bad, but you’re doing so good!” Dream sounded genuinely proud and George thought he might combust into a million tiny pieces if he said anything else even in the realm of kindness. “I know how ticklish your little ribs are, it must be torture to endure this. But you’re doing such a good job, George. Such a good boy.” 
George whined again through his laughter, shaking his head as he realized Dream was even using praise against him now. The blonde wasn’t playing fairly - he was using all of George’s weaknesses he’d ever found out and was putting them all into play at the same time; It wasn’t his fault he was so spaced out! 
Dream began to drill his finger against the rib bones, kneading as fast as he could along as many ribs as he could reach. He lifted his palm slightly, moving it forward to get at untouched bones to make George jump. The elder could feel the way Dream‘s finger slotted perfectly in the spaces between the bones, making him attempt to buck up in ticklish agony. He was wailing now, his legs no longer kicking and arms no longer pulling every now and then - he was truly putty. He was truly Dream’s tickle toy. 
“NAHAHA PLEHEASE!” George thought he might die with how hard he was laughing, feeling his chest burning every time he sharply inhaled between his cackles. Dream heard the strain in his voice and slowed his finger to a gentle tracing, trying to soothe George and let him ride out the leftover giggles that continued on, even after Dream completely removed his hand. 
“Hey, it’s alright, George. I’m right here, you did great, okay?” George was breathing heavily, taking in huge gulps of air as his breathing finally began to regulate itself. “We have one more finger, just my pinky, but if you’re too tickled out we don’t have to do it.” 
One thing that he always appreciated and admired about Dream was his ability to be completely genuine and only want the best for the people around him. He knew that Dream would stop if George really wanted to, and because of this George decided to let him keep going. He trusted Dream and knew he would stop regardless if he wound up changing his mind. 
“N-Nohoho you- you cahahan,” George giggled out, looking up at Dream and giving him a smile to let the younger boy know he was okay. “Just…behehe quick if you cahan, okay?” 
Dream could’ve teared up at how nice George was being. He was willingly letting Dream continue, even if he had just tortured the life out of him not even two minutes prior. The fact that George felt safe with Dream was all he had ever wanted, and he had no idea how to handle the feeling. He leaned forward and grabbed George’s cheeks with both hands, lightly squeezing and squishing his face between his fingers. 
“Yes I’ll be quick! Oh my God, George, you’re so adorable. I can’t get over it. I just had to squish you.” Dream was giggling at George’s confusion spreading all over his face, his brows furrowing together and a small wobbly grin forming as he felt Dream continue to contort his face in all different ways. After a few more seconds, the blonde finally pulled back, giggling down at George and watching him attempt to hold in giggles.
“None of that, remember?” Dream was quick to put his hand back on George’s stomach, using his pinky to push into the squishy part of George’s right side and causing him to thrash to the left with a squeak. “No holding in giggles! They’re my reward for tickling you!” 
“S-Stohohop saying stuff like thahahat!” George cried out as he continued to laugh his little head off, feeling as Dream began rubbing his finger in all different directions in the middle of his side, trying to find the right place to get the biggest reaction. 
“Like what? Me saying your giggles are a reward for me tickling you? It’s true! They are my reward, why else would I be doing this?” Dream continued to wiggle his pinky, pausing for a second so George would look up at him. “I mean, besides the fact that you love being tickled.” 
George was sure his face was truly on fire with how hot his skin was, not able to control his reactions and stuttering out protests at Dream’s accusations. He was shaking his head frantically, denying and denying and denying, all while Dream sat in silence from his place on George’s hips, smiling down at him and seemingly not listening to a word George was saying. 
“Stop trying to deny it, baby. You know you do, I know you do, so let me take care of you, okay?” Dream sounded so sweet it was making George’s head spin. He felt like his head was filled with cement, letting it lay against the soft cushions below him as he stared up at the ceiling. Dream resumed his tickling after another second, startling George and causing his laughter to come out more frantic than it had been. 
George was fully dizzy now, his mind floating somewhere in space while his body remained on earth, tickled and tormented in whatever ways Dream liked. He wasn’t sure how this had even started anymore, not able to think of anything else besides how big Dream’s hand was and how badly it tickled him. The thought of Dream’s hand being able to spread over most of his torso was flustering enough, but seeing it for himself in real time was something he never expected to see. He wasn’t sure how to get his thoughts together - he actually wasn’t sure if he had any other thoughts at all, besides how ticklish it felt. 
He jolted as Dream’s remaining four fingers began to move, digging into the spots that had been tormented minutes before. George couldn’t do anything but laugh, twisting from side to side every time Dream’s pointer and ring finger scraped between the bones in the middle of his rib cage. He had never had someone’s focus so closely on a spot before, especially not to experiment and prolong the tickling process like this. George shook his head again, trying to shake the flustering thought from his brain before he actually melts into the cushions below him. 
Dream added his free hand into the mix, having explored where he could reach with one hand and now using this opportunity to truly dig into George’s ribs. George screamed, making Dream’s eyes quickly flick up to his face to make sure he wasn’t hurt. It sounded so desperate and raw, like it tore through George’s throat to escape. When he was sure George wasn’t actually in pain he continued on, squeezing and kneading and knuckling at the sensitive little ribs under his fingers. The boy below him could almost be compared to a rag doll - George was completely limp, his head thrown back with his eyes tightly shut, laughing and laughing and not putting up an ounce of a fight. 
“Look at you, George. You’re all tickled out, huh? I bet everything feels so much more ticklish now that I’ve flustered you a ton.” Dream teased him, trying to keep his voice in a light tone as he spoke over George’s laughter. The older boy nodded, unable to answer with words because of how hard he was laughing. His face was a deep red, flushed beyond repair as his hair stuck to his forehead and the sides of his face. He was sweating and tears were falling and George couldn’t tell which was which. It didn’t really matter, it was all part of the overwhelming feeling of bliss George had.
“P-PLEHE- DREHE-” He was pleading through his screams, bucking up off the couch even with Dream sitting on his waist as Dream’s pointer fingers found his sensitive back ribs, kneading circles deep into the bones there. No matter how hard he tried, George couldn’t get a full word out. This signaled to Dream that George was indeed tickled out, and he really was at his limit. 
The hands on George’s ribs slowly came to a stop, Dream using his palms to try and soothe him once more of the lingering ghost tickles that were no doubt still doing their job. George couldn’t stop laughing. He didn’t remember the last time he was tickled like this, if ever. His chest was on fire and his throat was raw, coughing slightly when he took in a particularly deeper breath. 
“Wait one second okay? I’ll be right back.” The younger boy moved off of him and stood up from the couch, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge. Dream grabbed out two water bottles, bringing one over to George and twisting the cap before holding it out to him. 
“Thanks.” George strained out as he sat up slowly, wincing at his sore wrists from being kneeled on for so long. Dream noticed and his gentle smile turned into a concerned frown, sitting down on the couch next to George and taking the wrist that was not occupied into his own hands to begin rubbing lightly. 
“Sorry about that,” Dream apologized sheepishly, setting George’s water bottle on the side table when he was finished drinking to scoop his other wrist up, now gently massaging both and smiling when George let out a little contented sigh and closed his eyes again. “I didn’t mean to lean on them so hard. I got a little carried away.”
“You think?” Dream giggled bashfully as he felt his cheeks grow warmer, looking back down at George’s hands as he continued to rub along the skin of the small wrists. The blonde lifted them up, leaning his head down and meeting them halfway to give each wrist a small kiss. He pulled back, seeing George crack an eye open as he waited for Dream’s response.
“I couldn’t help it! Your laugh, like, activated something in me. I just needed to hear it more! It was like I became a tickle monster or something.” It was George’s turn to be bashful, knowing damn well that Dream knew the tickle monster bit always got to him a little more. He groaned, pulling his hands out of Dream’s to cover his own face, knowing he was blushing and wouldn’t be able to control it.
“Okahay, I promise I’m done! I’ve tortured you enough,” Dream giggled at how on edge the elder was, standing up from the couch and scooping the smaller boy up in his arms and making him shriek before he could even uncover his eyes. “At least for today.” 
“DREAM! What- whahat are you dohoing?!” George kicked his legs a few times as Dream carried him bridal style towards the kitchen. All hopes of containing his blush were gone as George thought about how effortlessly Dream could lift him, carrying him like he weighed nothing. He was still giggling as Dream set him down to sit on the counter a few seconds later, squirming to the side slightly when the blonde briefly wiggled his pointer finger into his side.
“Grabbing snacks! I’ve decided we’re gonna watch a movie now.” Dream explained, turning his back to George as he began to rummage through the cabinets for anything he thought looked good. 
“Oh yeah?” George couldn’t help the softness showing through his sarcasm, watching as the younger boy turned around with an arm full of popcorn and candy. 
“Yes,” He replied, handing George the snacks and picking up again, heading towards the theater room. “And since I almost killed you, I guess you can pick what movie we watch.”
The elder let out an over exaggerated shriek of excitement, making Dream jerk his head to the side to protect his ear from the volume of George’s voice. He once again couldn’t stop thinking about how easily Dream was holding him. Without permission, he let out a small squeak, eyes growing wide as they met Dream’s in embarrassment. 
The two broke out into giggles as Dream sat him down on one of the cushioned theater chairs, dropping the snacks on his own chair while George situated himself. Dream went and retrieved a huge blanket from the basket in the corner of the room, draping it over the two as he settled in next to George. Dream ripped open a pack of M&M’s, giggling through an eye roll as George leaned over into the younger boy’s space with his mouth wide open. 
“You’re such an idiot.” He shook his head fondly as he dropped two into George’s mouth anyway. The brunette giggled as he closed his mouth with a ‘smack’, sliding down in his chair to rest his back against the cushions as he pressed the button to recline it. Dream did the same, snuggling in closer to George and moving the snacks onto the blankets on top of them. 
“Watch it, or I’ll make you watch Harry Potter for the twentieth time.” 
“Oh God, I’ll never speak again, don’t worry.” 
“Dreheam!” The blonde was met with a soft smack on his bicep from a very giggly George, and he couldn’t help but laugh at his snarky comment himself. 
Dream watched as he grabbed the remote from the arm of the chair, opening the streaming app and flicking through the movie options. He let out a contented sigh, allowing himself to relax into the chair and closer to George. It was only when George picked a movie that he finally settled down, cuddling in closer to Dream and resting his head against the younger boy’s shoulder. 
Yes, George may have been tickled to the brink of death by his menace of a best friend, but if it meant ending in night like this, he would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
(you can find this fic on ao3 here!)
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inkskinned · 5 months
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i think a lot about exactly 1 thing from the roman empire: the concept of bread and circus. the idea was that if your population was fed and entertained, they wouldn't revolt. you are asking us to give up our one small life, is the thing - for under 15 dollars an hour.
what would that buy, even. i am trading weekends and late nights and my back health. i am trading slow mornings and long walks and cortisol levels. i am trading sleep and silence and peace. for ... this. for what barely-covers-rent.
life really is more expensive right now. you aren't making that up. i make almost 3 times what i did 5 years ago, and despite an incredibly equal series of bills - i am still struggling. the most expensive line item i added was to own a dog. the money is just evaporating.
we were okay with it because it's a cost-benefit analysis. i could handle the customer harassment and standing all day and the manager's constantly changing temperament - i was coming home to hope, and my life planned in a blue envelope. three hours would buy me my dog's food for a month. i can give up three hours for him, for his shiny coat and wide, happy mouth. three days could be a new mattress, if i was thrifty. if i really scrimped and saved, we could maybe afford a trip into the city.
recently i cried in the car about the price of groceries.
business majors will be mad at me, but my most inflammatory opinion is that people should never be valued at the same place as products. your staff should not be a series of numbers in an excel sheet that you can just "replace" whenever you need something at that moment. your staff should be people, end of sentence.
it feels like someone somewhere is playing a very bad video game. like my life is a toy. like someone opened an app on their phone and hired me in diner dash ultra. they don't need to pay me well or treat me alright - they can always just show me the door. there is always someone more desperate, always someone more willing.
but i go to work and know i could save for years and not afford housing. i am never going to own my own home, most likely. i have no idea how to afford her ring, much less the wedding. my dog doesn't have his own yard. everything i love is on subscription. if i lose my job, i have no "nest egg" to catch my falling.
this thin life - they want me to give up summer for it. to open my mouth and throat and swallow the horrible hours and counted keystrokes. they want me to give up mountains and any non-federal holiday. to give up snow days. to give up talking to my mom whenever i want. to give up visiting the ocean and hearing the waves.
bread and circus worked for a while, actually. it was the kind of plan that would probably now be denounced by republicans as socialist commie liberal pronoun bullshit.
but sometimes i wonder if we should point them to the part of the history book that says: it worked until it didn't.
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feymaid · 2 months
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I could get the clink for life, or the electric chair. But I don’t want to die a virgin.
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manglam-marfach · 2 months
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So much to unpack in chilchuck little relationship drama mind map here. Firstly, "leader, I guess" ???LMAO
Who is the marriage seeker who was ♥ for Laios and why does namari literally want her dead. PLEASE observe that marcille dislikes everyone except falin and has NO RELATIONSHIP AT ALL WITH LAIOS LOL. Whooooo is the member off screen who wants Laios fucking DEAD whats going on up there.
MANY QUESTIONS
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forecast0ctopus · 28 days
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concussion does not negate bitchiness…..this must be known
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kangals · 8 months
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friendly advice from vetmed: I know that when your animal has an infection that is generating a lot of discharge, you want to describe that to the veterinarian, because it’s a concerning sign. that is true. I also know that the most common word for this type of discharge is “pus,” so it’s logical that that’s the word that you’ll use when describing what’s going on. and in English, we often add a “-y” when we’re using a word as a descriptor.
but. the word. the word you are looking for. is purulent.
please stop sending in messages telling the doctor that your dog has a “pussy wound.”
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stuckinapril · 4 months
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friend wanted to see my tumblr, and when i told him i can’t show it to him bc it’s basically my personal diary he went “oh so I can’t see it but a bunch of strangers on tumblr can??” he literally does not get me. no one will get me like the people in my phone get me
#It’s just so different#even though it’s public it still feels secret and safe. i feel comfy sharing a lot more on here than I do in my actual day to day life lol#in my head I’m also just speaking to myself 90% of the time which helps#if a friend off tumblr saw my thoughts I’d feel so weird ab it#esp bc they might get the vagueposting about certain situations and tell mutual friends#no thank u. this is for me. I’m not about to start censoring my thoughts bc someone I know knows my tumblr#u guys literally saw me have LIVE BREAKDOWNS#meanwhile I’ll have the worst fucking day in history and tell no one about it. I’m already cripplingly private but way more so in real life#this is basically a low stress journaling outlet for me. it’s so important for me to maintain the separation#like this is actually my diary & has been so handy for letting out emotions / articulating thoughts / staying on track !!#& I’ve met so many kind people on here who actually get me. which is so hard to find irl bc I’m surrounded by pre-med gunners/overachievers#who are by standard not very good w emotion & can be competitive/judgmental. or at least it’s hard for me to be vulnerable in front of them#and I’m part of that crowd so I reserve my emotions only to a handful of very close friends#it’s nice to hop on here and express negative emotions!! or positive emotions!! just whatever I want and it’s low stress and people get me#I don’t have to worry about judgment or competitiveness etc etc#like everyone on here is so kind & nice & understanding. & just a breath of fresh air from the types I run w. it’s just nice to have this#so idk that’s why I think I’ll always be strict about keeping the worlds separate. it just works#p
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queenangst · 2 years
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idk if this is a young fan thing or new fandom culture but some of yall think fics are abandoned way too quickly. a few months or a year or two is not unusual to go without a fic update. sometimes fics take longer to write, other times writers have rl events, or maybe there's multiple fics and one gets more priority. there are tons of reasons for fics not to be updated every week or every month. it also isn't uncommon for people to come back and update fics after a number of years—ive read updates that took five, or ten years. people's lives change, but they still want to tell their stories. personally, i never consider a fic abandoned unless the author has said so; though if it's been a few years i manage my expectations. but a last update being a year ago is... generally not a sign that a writer has abandoned their fic
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soranker · 3 months
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tomorrow :)
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feels like we are culturally neglecting the meme potential of "[x] made me queer" wherein [x] is any randomly specific throwback.
e.g. "late 90s nickelodeon fruit gushers commercials made me queer." this is a comedy potluck everyone bring a dish to the table
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inkskinned · 10 months
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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dollylex · 9 months
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“that’s my fucking girl” while ur making me cum on ur cock <3
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51ft · 7 months
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watchyourbuck · 16 days
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There’s something about Eddie saying he’s a nester yet being completely incapable of doing such nesting with any of the women we’ve ever seen him with. Shannon was not only his wife, but Chris’ mother, and yet he didn’t feel ready to let her see their son once she came back… I’d even be willing to say he convinced himself into redoing his life with her because it made sense, and not because he was in love with her (again). Ana, however lovely she was, was also very clearly the product of Eddie putting Chris first. We see this when he has The Conversation with Buck: “Chris loves her”, “is that enough?” and soon we find out it isn’t. “We became a ready made family, and I’m not ready for that”. Finally we have Marisol, who he shoved inside his house only to kick out a few days later. But then… cut to Buck and Chris playing video games together, and doing some sort of scrapbook thing for Christmas, and visiting Santa, and going to the zoo. Cut to Buck picking Chris up from school, and being the first person Chris calls when Eddie breaks down (and goes to when he’s mad at his dad). Cut to homemade meals and difficult talks at any of their kitchens, and carrying each other physically and emotionally through the worse possible times. Cut to “there’s no one I trust with my son more than you,” and “this changes nothing between us.” Yeah,,, Eddie can’t nest with the women we’ve seen him with, because he already nested with Buck.
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dykepaldi · 28 days
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finally drew 12 in the dykepaldi outfit as is my god given right ⚡️⚡️⚡️
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(^ this is dykepaldi its a whole ass alter ego for me atp. its a drag persona its a gender its a state of mind.)
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RESIDENT EVIL BODY TYPES THE SEQUEL!
part one...!
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