Tank/Amari/Goon | Any Pronouns, I don’t give a shit | Oh yeah and I’m black so if I say nigga don’t be surprised lmao. This is an SFW tickle blog, NSFW blogs please don’t interact.
Just realized I’ve been here for nearly 3 years and never made a damn intro lmao anyway hiiiiii
Welcome to this Mess!!
HALLO.
My name is Tank as you already know but I go by a couple of other names like:
• Amari
• Goon
Personally though I don’t care which one you use!!
I’m 18 years old and go by any pronouns (I chronically can’t give a fuck)
I like tickles only in an SFW manner!! It’s a thing I’ve liked since I was very young and continues to be an interest now. I see it as a way to bond and show affection to people you love. :]
Now that introductions are out of the way let’s get to the
DNI LIST
• Basic DNI criteria (proship, darkship, terf, racist, etc)
• NSFW tickle blogs (That should be common knowledge already but apparently some people can’t take the time to read the bio 💀)
• Vore blogs, both nsfw and sfw (I know this sounds oddly specific but dawg there a couple vore blogs following me and like. I dunno it makes me uncomfortable)
• Anyone below the age of 15 and above the age of 21 (With the exception of mutuals I already know)
• NSFW blogs in general (HEAVY on NSFW agere blogs)
• Obikin and BeetleBabes shippers (I just don’t like the ships ngl they makes me uncomfortable as fuck 😭)
Extra Stuff That Isn’t Vital is below the cut!!!
Made with tender love and care with these two idiots (/pos) @secretlaughs 🩷 & @neppy-34 💚
Current Interests!!
Subject to change so be wary!
𖤓 = Currently Interested in
☆ = Not as Interested but it’s still there
☾ = Mostly Dorment
• Doctor Doom (Do not mention him to me I will explode /pos) 𖤓
the dark space was illuminated by the soft glow of a golden butterfly, hovering around the fortress made entirely of soft pillows. the lack of harsh light grounded kinger, allowing him to keep a stable, comfortable grip on his sanity as he held a fidgeting ragdoll in his lap.
"seems like i have a giggling doll in my hands.. but i cant seem to remember why." he taps his 'chin', eyes averting with fake thought. he looks back down at her, and she gives a little hiccup of anticipation, grinning widely.
"could you remind me of what i was doing? i dont recall.." and ragatha gives a small, ineffective kick of her legs, blabbering out inaudible nonsense. "i-i- you- you wehehere.. um, well-"
kingers gaze was gentle, eyes showing patience as ragatha fumbled with her hands and stammered over her words. eventually, she lets out a very quiet mumble, hiding her face in his robe, and kinger cant help but chuckle.
"hey," he hums, coaxing her to look at him. "if you cant do it, its okay. do you want me to start?"
at her shy nod, kingers hand drifts to her waist, his fingers curling inward slightly, making her jump. she lets out a string of protests she doesnt really mean, unable to even look at the hand that began to squeeze at her soft, plush side, letting her head fall back and laughing freely for the first time in what felt like years.
A Moment in the Dark || The Amazing Digital Circus Tickle Fic ||
A/N: they are too cute i couldn't not. ler kinger is my favorite thing and i will make it ragatha's problem 😈. nah don't worry she loves it. THIS IS NOT A SHIP, IT IS FOUND FAMILY LOVE. also this is a ticke fic- if you don't like, don't read, keep scrolling. this is written in Ragatha's POV btw.
Summary: When Ragatha begins to spiral in self-hate, Kinger gets an extra hint on how to help her
Word count: 3,841
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She always was a failure.
Her mother could see it practically from age twelve. Ragatha doesn't even know what exactly it is that's wrong with her, but she has enough data to know there is something there. Something vile. Unlovable. Wretched. Or worse, exhausting.
It plays out the same every time: she trips over herself trying to keep those around her happy, she tries too hard (or not hard enough, the jury is still out), they grow sick of her, they leave. That cycle is the most dependable thing she has ever had. Like an underwhelming rewrite of Groundhog Day. After so much evidence that she is generally unwanted, you'd think that she would give up trying to form connections with people. Human beings are funny like that. No matter how hard you may try to create distance for yourself, you are doomed to chase down any sliver of relationship you can get, because... what else are you going to do?
And she's done it again.
Pomni needs her right now, to be strong, to be dependable, to be malleable. She is still grappling with the life sentence that is this Circus, and is vulnerable now more than ever. All she asked of Ragatha was to be her partner in today's adventure, and Ragatha said no.
Why is she incapable of making good decisions? Why does every leap have to end in a stumble?
These are the questions that circled Ragatha's brain like sharks in a tank, looming dangerously close to dragging her into the depths.
She's tired. There's so much... tired.
But none of these feelings will make it to the surface. Not right now. Not in the middle of an adventure. She can't let it, because that would be worse: to be the problem and then make everyone around you guilty for recognizing your problem-ness. She at least has the dignity to prevent that. The adventure is almost over, she's already lost the game, in no time at all she'll retire to her room and fall apart in privacy like a functional person.
The Losers Corner is surprisingly ambient. By the name, Ragatha would expect a white room with folding chairs and fluorescent lighting. The modest banner on the wall with the words "Losers Club" scrawled on it is on par with her expectation. Everything else is hauntingly beautiful. The room is dark and noticeably empty, illuminated only by the large aquarium in the center. The silence in here is denser than it is in the rest of the Circus. Everywhere else there are the ricocheting sounds of people living (talking, moving, etc), but in here, there is no one but her. No sign of life beyond her sullen breath, and the overbearing, daunting echo of water and silence.
It gives her room to think, which is the last thing she wants to do right now. She does not need more time to ruminate on what an unlovable person she is.
Before long, Kinger pops into the room with her, having been the next one to lose all three lives.
"Ah, what a game. Who knew Pomni could be such a sharpshooter!" Kinger says as he swivels to look at her. "These adventures, huh?"
She doesn't speak. Doesn't even look in his direction.
"And look, even though we lost, at least we gave it our all, right?"
Giving it your all and still losing isn't a hopeful feeling. It means that no matter how hard you try to be a better person for someone, or do what you think they want, you never get it right. It means that at your best you're still a loser. A failure.
Ragatha suddenly feels a weight on the bench beside her.
"Um... you feeling alright?"
How does she begin to answer a question like that?
"Are you upset that we lost?" He sounds confused. Supportive, but unclear where her head is at. She doesn't want to leave him worried, but words won't come to her mouth. Whether through physical or mental incapability, she doesn't know.
She shakes her head.
"Are you upset about... something else?"
She nods.
Kinger scooches closer. "You wanna talk about it?"
The question undoes all of her hard work to stay composed. It is the most compassionate thing to say to her right now and it's breaking her apart. Tears are welling in her eye, and no amount of willpower can tuck them back down.
She pushes a breath out, and words fall out too.
"I think... I might've... failed Pomni." It sounds insipid when she hears it, but there's no point stopping now. She gathers her nerve. "Just like I failed Jax. I try too hard to get on their good side, and then I just end up pushing them away. And then they end up hating me."
Kinger shifts. "Well, I don't think anyone in here hates you."
It's frustrating, how much faith he has in everyone. Not that he himself is frustrating, but that Ragatha wants so badly to live in the world he lives in, where everyone is important and special and valued.
"Jax does!" She scoffs, and then promptly hates herself for scoffing at Kinger. "Gangle and Zooble don't ever talk to me and, Pomni probably won't after today either. She came to me wanting to be on my team. I said no. Why did I do that?"
Kinger beside her looks more confused than before. "Maybe you just needed a break?" he offered gently. "It sounds to me like you put a lot of pressure on yourself to be there for everyone, and when you're not, you beat yourself up for it. You said you 'failed Pomni'. Wh-Why do you feel that way?"
Because she did. She did fail to be a structure for Pomni. Despite Ragatha's conviction, she doesn't know how to voice it.
"I don't know," she admits, meaning it. "I feel like everyday we're drifting further apart. Like she's seen through all my tricks and doesn't trust me anymore. Before I know it, she'll be a different person. One who doesn't even want me around..."
It's quiet for a beat, her words settling in the air.
After a moment, Kinger speaks.
"The way I see it, relationships are two-sided. And sometimes, it doesn't make sense to do all the heavy lifting when the other isn't in the mood. We all go through and deal with things differently, and sometimes, you just need to let people do things their own way, as long as you're still there when they need you. Giving someone space should never be the same as giving up on them."
Ragatha can't feel. She can't. Feel. Anything. She's lost at sea and she can't hear the people on the shore over the roar of the waves.
"I don't even know what I want." But then it comes to her. Yes you do. "I just want everyone to be happy, and... I don't want people to hate me."
"Do you hate yourself?"
Another impossible question.
She guesses Kinger can see that she won't answer the question, as he continues.
"I hated myself. I couldn't help but hate myself for the things I thought I was responsible for. I thought I'd lost everything. But then, you showed up, and my outlook just... changed."
Ragatha didn't know any of that. Kinger hated himself? How? What could he have possibly done to be such a villain in his own eyes?
Kinger directs his focus back to her. "There are always ways to show you care without ruining yourself over it. You need to look out for yourself in all this too."
And with that, she can feel again. The numbness is blown away like a gust of wind, and her head is now clear as the sky, leaving her with nothing but this heartfelt truth-bomb Kinger has just dropped on her. He made it all sound so... simple. In spite of what she believed about herself, Ragatha feels something within her agree that Kinger is right.
For the first time today, she smiles even when she doesn't need to. She smiles because she doesn't need to.
"I don't get it," she laughs, "So often, nothing you say makes any sense, but then you have these moments where you... I don't know. How do you do that? How've you been around for so long?"
Kinger chuckles at that. "I guess I just have a resilient mind."
His eyes wander from their contact with hers, locking onto something just behind her head.
With a surge of fear, she turns to see Bubble holding a camera.
"Breathtaking! The committee is gonna LOVE that," he crows, quickly floating away.
How long had he been listening? This place somehow manages to get stranger and stranger every day.
Ragatha and Kinger look at each other, and start to laugh. The abrupt shift in tone made them laugh even harder.
As they're gathering their breath, Kinger addresses her. "How do you feel now?"
Ragatha checks for a second. "Honestly? Still not great. There are these thoughts running through my head, and they are so. Loud. I can't get them to stay quiet for very long."
Kinger goes quiet. What was he thinking about? Was he disappointed that she wasn't feeling better? Was he frustrated? Had she ruined the moment?
The silence is suddenly broken. "You know... I actually remember something I saw once. It was in your character data profile."
Ragatha is familiar with what he's talking about. When a player enters the Circus, a profile is built for them. Caine constructs it based on a thorough sweep of the player's mind. It catalogues your fears, your insecurities, your dreams, essentially everything about who they are as a person. This information is tucked away to be utilized to construct adventures that will match the players' individual personalities. But... how did Kinger see her profile?
He senses that question in her mind and hurriedly explains. "I didn't mean to, I promise! I was only trying to escape, the way we all do, searching for a door. I entered the profile before I realized what it was. I'm sorry. It was an invasion of your privacy."
Ragatha isn't angry, not at all. Not with Kinger, who always did everything he could to take care of everyone in the Circus. She knows he would never dream of betraying her trust. She is, however, a little nervous at what he might have seen.
"Don't worry about it," she reassures, "Go on."
He looks tentative now, like he is afraid to overstep. "Well, I... I saw your 'Comforts' section. It said," he pauses, "that you like to be tickled when you're upset."
No.
Oh no.
For a moment, Ragatha has no words or thoughts. Like someone hit the shutdown button on the computer of her mind and everything faded to black. Her brain is now a brick. She is so out of it that she doesn't realize that she's supposed to say something now.
Kinger is still waiting for her to respond.
Someone restarts her monitor-brain again, and there comes the replay of what just happened. Kinger knows about her tickling thing. He knows. About her tickling.
Without a sound, Ragatha puts her head in her lap and covers it with her hands. Maybe she can hide from this moment. Maybe if she feels enough panic, she can abstract herself right now.
"Please don't tell the others," she begs. "Please."
Out of the small corner between her arm and her thigh, she can see Kinger startle.
"Oh, I won't, Ragatha, I promise. I won't tell anyone," he reassures her, sounding frantic to ease her fears. He places a soothing hand on her back. "That's not what I meant. What I mean to say is... would it help you feel better if you were tickled?"
What?
Where is the mockery? The jabs at her expense? What is going on? He should be weirded out right now. Why isn't he?
Ragatha sits upright, causing Kinger to remove his hand. She knows she shouldn't, but she can't help but laugh. This is the most absurd conversation they are having. This is so stupid.
"It doesn't matter if it makes me feel better. It doesn't matter at all! It's stupid and weird and it doesn't make sense! I'm sorry you had to read that, that's- don't- don't worry about it. Forget about it. It doesn't matter."
She can feel Kinger's concern like a laser pointed at the side of her head.
"Well, I think it does matter. I think it makes sense. Human beings need physical touch to be healthy, our brains need it to feel happy and safe. It's just the way we're hardwired. Tickling can be a way to have that need fulfilled, and it certainly doesn't make you stupid."
"It's..." Is she really about to say this? "It's not just that. I... I don't know why I feel this way, I've just always been like this. I get so wound up, like all the time, and I feel so much pressure to be perfect. I need to be perfect to make up for how much of a burden I am. I need to be in control of myself at all times, I need to have everything together, I need to always be composed. Because if I'm not perfect, if I'm not in control, if I'm not composed, I feel like I'm dying. Like I'm being watched and once it sees that I tripped up, something will swallow me whole, and I'll lose everything I care about. I am terrified to turn off.
"But with t- that thing... you can't be perfect. You can't be in control. No matter how hard you try, you can't make yourself stay composed. All that you can do is be, and laugh, and fall apart. And it's okay. You're allowed to come apart because you don't have a choice.
"It just sounds nice... to be able to let go and be silly and loud and imperfect, and have someone love you anyway."
Silence.
Kinger looks at the floor, and seems to think about what she said. He begins nodding. "Yep! Makes sense to me."
Ragatha almost laughs again. She feels less terrified now. Maybe he really doesn't think it's that strange, after all. She's never told any of this to anyone before. It feels good to speak it aloud. For a moment, Ragatha feels peace.
"Soooo..."
Ragatha looks up at Kinger, silently prompting him to ask his question.
"Do you want me to tickle you?"
He asks it so matter-of-factly, like all he needs to hear is that she wants it and it's as simple as that. She can't believe him.
Just hearing the word makes Ragatha's body want to recoil, but that urge is overridden by the need to stay perfectly still, like a deer being watched. She can feel the warmth in her cheeks as her lips tug into a smile. She can't help it; she really does want that. Nothing would make her happier right now. But that doesn't mean he owes it to her.
Ragatha squirms in her seat, unable to look at him. "Only if you're okay with it."
Kinger doesn't have a mouth to smile with, and yet his is the kindest one Ragatha's ever seen.
"Oh, Ragatha. Still looking out for others. You're a good person, I hope you know that."
She doesn't get the chance to comment on how sentimental that is as she feels a hand rest on her shoulder, and then gently skitter up towards her neck. Her shoulders bounce with a silent snicker, her grin bigger than ever, eyes clenched tight.
The hand crawls back down her shoulder until it wiggles into the small cave of her underarm. There goes the first giggle. And then they keep coming. Trying to keep still whilst being tickled is harder than one might think, and while she is trying her best, Ragatha is as still as a palm tree in a hurricane. But she hears Kinger give an endeared chuckle next to her, and she is reminded suddenly of who she is with. There's no reason to be embarrassed here.
Ragatha can feel Kinger lean forward, assumingly to meet her gaze, despite the fact that her eyes are still clearly clamped shut.
"Does this tickle?" he asks gently.
She thinks for a moment that he is being sarcastic, until she remembers that Kinger doesn't have a good grip on sarcasm. No, he is 100% being sincere, and asking if the spot that has her giggling like a schoolgirl is ticklish.
She does not have the strength in herself to grace him with an answer, but giggles harder at the question.
There are now fingers scribbling into her side. It surprises Ragatha, sending her tittering helplessly. The hand under her arm now joins the hand at her side as they both tickle curiously; up and down, up and down, going in different directions. The sensation is too much, and Ragatha only lasts a second sitting upright before she arches herself away from Kinger, her face now below his. In between her laughs, she cracks one eye open to find that Kinger is watching her lovingly and with all of the attentive care that she never had growing up. His eyes are shining their deep blues, eyebrows forming a peak above them. If looks could kill, this one could hug. The sight of it might've brought a mist to Ragatha's eyes were she not being overrun with giggles.
Kinger's voice comes once more. "Does this tickle?" he asks, then suddenly darts one hand to her plush belly, then to her other side, then back to her neck. Both hands are now recklessly exploring the space, leaving Ragatha in stitches. "Does this? Does this? Does this?"
"Stohohop askihihing thahat!"
"But how will I know if I'm doing it right if I don't ask?" She then hears him hum. "I wonder if if this spot is ticklish..."
Meticulous fingers are now massaging into her ribs, attacking every single nerve ending, all of which are screaming in ticklish glee.
Ragatha squeals, startling Kinger to a stop, as she lets her body slide down to the floor, laughing all the way.
Kinger is peering down at her. "Still okay?"
Is she okay? What a ridiculous question. She is glowing.
She nods bashfully. "Mm-hm."
Kinger looks pleased. "Good, because I wasn't quite finished with you yet! I think it tickles you a lot when I do this." And with that, he kneels down on the floor beside her and brings his hands back to their work: one picking back up at her ribs and one scribbling delicately at the center of her belly.
Ragatha had been in many a tickle fight before she came to the Circus. She used to think that harder tickles were what she needed to worry about. This delightful hell she is in now proves the opposite: the softer tickles are what really drive a person crazy. Her laughter rings out bigger and louder than before, as it evolves into a child-like cackle. She didn't even know she could laugh like that.
Her hands begin reaching out to grab Kinger's, then stop, then reach, then stop. It's a tug-of-war between her mind and body. She doesn't actually want to stop him, it's just a reflex. This is beginning to get distracting. She resolves to grab her own wrists behind her head. With the chance of fighting back gone, the tickly feelings suddenly feel much more intense, and she laughs and laughs and laughs. There's nothing else to do. There's nothing else she wants to do.
She hears a "tch" above her. "Awww! You're doing such a great job keeping still. It looks hard. I know it would be if it were me. Does it feel nice? Kitchy kitchy coo! Kitchy kitchy coo!"
Abstract her now, Caine. Just do it now.
Ragatha sobs with laughter, the silliness of the situation taking over her mind. What little humiliation there is within her is dwarfed by the high she's on.
"Ooh! This spot always would drive me crazy-" Kinger says as he reaches down to the spot on her dress where her knees are showing through and starts to squeeze.
The snort that leaps out of her shocks them both. Ragatha cackles as more snorts bubble to the surface, while Kinger laughs in triumph at his discovery.
"I knew it! It's a killer alright."
The high Ragatha is on has brought her so far up into the clouds that she is starting to lose oxygen. She untangles her hands from behind her head and settles one on Kinger's shoulder (or at least, where she supposes his shoulder would be).
He stops immediately, eyes shifting from down at her knees to up at her face. Ragatha notices his concern.
"Yes? Would you like to stop now, Ragatha?" he asks, his tone almost saccharinely sweet.
Not yet. Not at all really, but she needs air eventually. Well, not literally anyway; they don't need to breathe here, but it still feels like she does. She isn't quite ready for this moment to be over.
"M-Maybe just a little bit more" she hiccups.
"Sure thing." Kinger's hands, which have been floating in the air waiting for the green light, now perch themselves on either side of her neck. "This okay?"
Ragatha nods once more.
Whereas Kinger's earlier tickling was quick, now his touch is steady and relaxed, and his motions even. It's just the adjustment Ragatha needs. Her manic laughter quickly dies down into breathy giggles once more, and her eyes can open just wide enough to take in her friend.
Kinger brushes a single thumb across her cheek while his other fingers keep tickling.
"You know, I'm glad you agreed to do this. You seem much happier than you were just a few minutes ago. Maybe getting tickled isn't as humiliating as you thought it would be?" The rising tone at the end of his sentence indicates to her that he is hoping for confirmation.
"Yeah" she says. And it isn't even a lie.
Over the next minute, Kinger's hands slow until they stop completely, and Ragatha's chest ceases its bouncing. They stay there together, just enjoying the peace that wafts through the air. Ragatha's fears are not killed, but they are silenced for now, and that is enough. No matter what friends she will later lose within the Circus, she knows that she has at least one friend who will never let her fall. Kinger gave her a gift today, and she swears to herself that she will someday return it. After all, his implication of his also being ticklish was not lost on her, even as she was in the throes of it herself.
A disembodied voice makes the two jump. They whip to face the sound.
"Uhhhh what do we do now?" Gangle moans pitifully, having just materialized here in the dark.
Now that The Guy Who Doesn’t Like Musicals is getting reprised can I interest some of you in: What if the infection spread through tickling/laughter instead of murder
It’s mostly just thoughts about Let It Out and Inevitable because of how already tickly the choreography is and how touchy the zombies are..
I was thinking that the spores coming from the meteor tickled when inhaled or absorbed through the skin, causing the infected person to laugh uncontrollably before being completely taken over by the hivemind. I like to think that the laughing weakens their defenses enough for it to seep into their mind.
In terms of the infecteds, they still have the singular mission of infecting others but in a different way. Their hands and palms excrete a mixture of sweat and “blue shit” that can spread via skin absorption when they tickle someone. And similarly to how they’re attracted to music/singing in the play, they’re attracted to the sound of laughter. Whether it be from tickling or otherwise. Sooo if you’re getting your shit wrecked by one of the infected there’s a good chance a couple more will join to assist.
“female lees make me uncomfortable because i saw so much sexual tk content as a kid” I think you should genuinely reflect on yourself and your view of women
The thing that sucks about me liking tickling a normal amount is that it’s always in my head.
Like I could be doing something completely off topic and there’s a voice in the back of my head that goes, to varying degrees of volume: “Wouldn’t it be cool if someone was sitting on your back and digging their nails into your sides and armpits?”
Like. Do you mind not projecting a scene of me getting a raspberry blown into my neck whilst I’m writing an essay.
