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blueberrygiggles · 6 days ago

Note

SCREAMS ur responses are so good ty for feeding us I'm so excited for your writing omggg

ANYWHO. SO. You mentioned Jayce giving Viktor a raspberry and also the tags on the s2 art so~ let's humor that~

Raspberries are arguably one of the most childish and intimate forms of tickling because well duh. I feel like Viktor probably never had a raspberry before Jayce (at least not one he remembers). He probably saw parents blow raspberries onto their giggling kids and thought to himself "I guess it's funny, or feels weird". Never considered just how bad it could tickle.

Jayce on the other hand is FULL OF LOVE and definitely has fuzzy memories of his mom pressing her lips to his belly when he was younger. Even just tickly kisses would take him down! He's a tummy guy.

Anyway, I feel like Jayce would suddenly remember that he can Do That to Viktor one day, and he just HAS to try it out. Poor Viktor probably looks in absolute horror as Jayce pushes his shirt up and takes a big breath in Like???? What are you DOING Jayce?!?!? Then when he touches down, Viktor SCREAMS. Like full on EEEEEEEEEEs because holy shit it tickles so so so bad. Probably knocks his head against the floor as he shrieks. Jayce has big ol powerful cheeks and a scratchy face (before the beard) so it's unbearable 💔

Poor Jayce probably gets a metal leg brace to the head as Viktor jerks his legs involuntarily. And oh boy does Vik blush because ??? WHAT WAS THAT????

You know how I said I was taking so long cause I had Ideas? Well. Here you go!

Fruit

Title: Fruit

WC: 1376w

Summary: Tensions are high in the lab with tight deadlines. Arguments are had, resolved, and when under inordinate amounts of pressure one must make time for stupidity.

——————

Viktor rested his head against the blackboard, sighing. Work had been trying lately. The council was expecting something big, and fast, so he and Jayce often found themselves burning the midnight oil more often than not. Their late nights and stressed disposition had led to a decent few arguments, mainly about stupid things such as who left the dishes all over the kitchen. Most recently it had been about an equation that had ended up half rubbed out - neither of them could decide who had done it, and both were saddled with figuring out what had been written down and rewriting it.

They had been ignoring each other for most of the day, and to be honest Viktor was tired of it. These hours only passed quickly when there was chatter and ideas being thrown about like darts at a board. With nothing but chalk scratching breaking the silence, the seconds were painful. Usually Jayce was the one to break such silences, but he had been steadfastly soldering one of his gauntlets for the past hour and a half.

For once in his life, Viktor put his stubborn nature aside and relented. He set his chalk down and wiped his hand on the side of his pants before walking over to Jayce, leaning on his crutch. Jayce didn’t look up on his approach, and Viktor stood awkwardly by him for a full minute until he put down the soldering iron.

“If you have something to say, say it.” Jayce said through gritted teeth. Viktor shifted his weight awkwardly.

“I… am sorry. About the equation. Truthfully, the last few days have been melding into each other, and I can’t remember who wiped the board. It very well could have been me.”

Jayce sat up straighter, genuine surprise in his eyes. “You’re not here to berate me some more?”

Viktor flushed, looking aside. It was hard to keep composure when Jayce was looking at him like a kicked puppy. “No. I should not have done so in the first place.”

There was a moment of silence where Viktor was convinced Jayce was going to turn his back on him, but before the idea could make a home in his head Jayce was up and his arms were wrapped around him.

“It’s okay. We’ve been working hard, and I’ve said some things I regret too. Still partners?” Jayce asked, pulling back slightly.

Viktor allowed himself a smile and put a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. “Of course. Now, I’m sure I have some alcohol in here from last time…”

…

The next few days were a complete turn around from the stress. Now that they weren’t on edge around each other the ideas were flowing and problems that seemed impossible suddenly had clear solutions.

“Ha! If I reverse the polarity on this, it will stop the hex crystal from spinning out of control!” Viktor exclaimed, nearly throwing his screwdriver. Jayce pushed away from his workbench and cheered.

“Man, we are on a roll.” He sat contended for a bit before furrowing his brow. “Vik, I’ve just realised I’ve never asked you about your family.”

Viktor turned to face him, amused. “And what started this train of thought?”

Jayce shrugged. “I was just thinking.”

“Dangerous, coming from you. Anyway, there was never much to speak of. Never had siblings, my father was absent before I was born, and my mother passed when I was quite young. As was the way of most in Zaun.” Viktor said.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. The life I lead now… it makes up for it.”

Jayce tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Aw, I’m glad to hear I’m like your family.”

Viktor sputtered. “I- what…well-”

Jayce laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Ooooh, we should do family things! Have a big awkward dinner with aunts you’ve never met, create unnecessary drama,...”

“Jayce, it sounds like you are describing the council.” Viktor commented, half a laugh on his breath.

Jayce mimed vomiting and pouted before lighting up like a candle. “No, of course not. I couldn’t do this with any members of the council.”

Viktor assumed he was talking about their banter, so he smiled and turned back to his work. However, the minute he picked up his pen he was grabbed from behind and wrapped up in a hug. He squeaked in surprise and swore in his native tongue before going limp in his embrace - he’d learned there was no escaping Jayce when he got lovey-dovey.

“You know something else families do?” Jayce sing-songed, being a dick about it.

“What, Jayce?” Viktor sighed, playing along.

It turned out there was no verbal response to that question - that being because Jayce had taken the opportunity to worm his fingers under Viktor’s arms and start wiggling on his ribs. Viktor immediately curled in on himself and made a strangled noise, pushing at Jayce’s hands.

“No! Jahayce, you bastard-” He yelled, squirming. Jayce just laughed, pulling him away from the bench and over to the couch they had set up. Viktor knew what that meant, and he knew it could lead to him not getting back to his work for at least an hour. When one of his moods struck Jayce was hard to escape - not that Viktor minded too much. He could admit he needed the break, and he could put up with Jayce.

Nevertheless, he protested. “Jaaaayce JayceJayceJayce we can talk about this, no? You don’t have to- haha! You don’t have to do this!”

“Oh, but I do.”

Viktor half-fought Jayce trying to shove him down on the couch, swearing the whole time. The minute he was down, Jayce would go ham and he wouldn’t know peace. Despite the half-assed attempts at escape Jayce successfully pinned an already laughing Viktor to the couch, and Viktor braced himself. What came, however, was hands deftly pulling up his shirt in one quick movement.

“What the fu-” was all Viktor managed before Jayce took a deep breath and blew a raspberry on his stomach. Now, Viktor had seen this done before - often parents with small children - but always assumed the resulting laughter was because of the general silliness of the action. Never in a million years had he expected it to tickle so fucking badly.

Viktor let out what could only be described as a screech at the contact, immediately kicking out and bashing his head on the back of the couch. Jayce nuzzled his face into his tummy, grinning, and Viktor broke into a chorus of cackles.

“JAHAYCE! Whahaha- whahat are you dohohoing??”

“What do you think?” He replied, still speaking into Viktor’s stomach and by god he was going to dissolve because his stubble made it so much worse. Viktor shrieked again when Jayce blew yet another raspberry, squirming within an inch of his life.

“Yohou fucking asshole!” He yelled out for nothing, getting rewarded with Jayce’s fingers joining in the fun by kneading into his lower ribs. He made a series of high pitched sustained yelps at this, caught between the sensations of rough hands on sensitive skin and lips over spots he was discovering were really ticklish. After one particularly potent raspberry, Viktor accidentally sent his knee straight into the back of Jayce’s head, finally halting the onslaught.

“Ow!” Jayce cradled his head while Viktor caught his breath, quickly covering his stomach.

“You deserve that!” Viktor admonished, sitting up. His eyes were wide, staring at Jayce.

“Have you… have you never had someone blow a raspberry on you before?”

Viktor shook his head. “That affront to dignity is named after a fruit?”

Jayce laughed. “Yes.”

“I was not expecting it to… have such an effect.”

“No? If it’s too much, I won’t do it again-”

“No!” Viktor said before he could stop himself. “I mean, ah, I can handle your bullshit if I must, Jayce.”

Jayce raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to do it again?”

Viktor turned red. “Of course not.”

Despite this, he sank further into the couch and his shirt rode up slightly. He didn’t pull it back down. Jayce grinned.

“Well regardless, I’m not done with you.”

It took very little time for Viktor to start cackling. Again.

#rolling on the floor #arcane #jayce #viktor #.fic

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blueberrygiggles · 6 days ago

Text

Distracted

Lee!Viktor x Ler!Jayce

Word Count : 4761

Summary : Jayce can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to tickle Viktor. When they get tipsy together one night, he doesn’t have to imagine anymore.

a/n : i love them. sm. also, two things: 1) this is lowkey an out of character fic but i realized that it’s kinda hard to write a tkl fic with lee!viktor and it not be a lil ooc so bear with me LMAO, and 2) i said i was working on a lee!jayce fic, and i still am, but it’s a little longer and more thought out than this one so again. BEAR WITH ME! okok love yall hope u enjoy

this is a tickle fic! not nsfw, but don’t like don’t read 😝

…

It’d be so easy. Almost too easy. Viktor would kill him for it, probably yell at him for 45 minutes for breaking his concentration with something so stupid and childish. But it would be worth it just to hear the cute sound Viktor would make when Jayce finally dug his fingers in sides, crawling up to his ribs and playing them like a piano, maybe even drill his thumbs into his hips just to hear him cry–

“What about this one?”

Viktor’s voice broke through his concentration, and Jayce nearly jumped. The slim man looked over his shoulder at Jayce, bringing his arm down from the top of the black board. Viktor has been writing near the top of it for a few minutes now, working on an equation as he mumbled under his breath. His arm had been outstretched over his head so he could reach, and with his whole side exposed like that, his ribs and underarms were on beautiful display for Jayce to stare and daydream.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Jayce had only been thinking those thoughts instead of acting on them, with the way his fingers itched and curled into the leg of his pants just looking at Viktor like that.

Shit, he should probably focus now. Jayce did a quick once over of the equation, making sure he’d have something of substance to say in response. “Uh, yeah it–it looks fine.” Ah yes, a very substantial addition, Jayce Talis. ‘Idiot.’

Viktor quirked a brow. “Just…fine?”

“Yeah I mean it’s…” Jayce cleared his throat, looking over it once again and finally taking in what Viktor was actually doing. “I don’t see anything wrong with it. And once we get it fitted into our earlier calculations, it should be ready to rock-and-roll.” Jayce cringed internally, ‘Oh my god shut up.’

Viktor still looked suspicious, as Jayce rarely seemed caught off guard like that. He turned back to the blackboard, “Well I think it could still use some touch-ups. You should come and help me, my brain is frying from staring at it for too long.”

Jayce swallowed. Dammit. He’d been perfectly content to watch from behind, it was easier to hide his self-made fluster at that angle. But…right fucking next to him? Where it’d be even easier to reach out, pinch a bottom rib, make Viktor squirm and laugh and—

“Jayce. Any day now would be preferable,” Viktor deadpanned, not even sparing a glance as he continued to look at his equation.

“Right, right,” Jayce hopped to Viktor’s side, really trying not to be any sort of distraction in his state. Now next to Viktor, watching through his peripheral, he saw Viktor once again reach up and make a few scribbles with chalk. Above his head. Exposed.

Jayce bit the inside of his cheek, snatching a piece of chalk himself just to have something to hold onto. Why was this hitting him so hard right now? Usually, moods like this were so much easier to suppress, easier to forget about when he finally got himself lost in their work. But right now, their work was more mundane, small touch-ups on calculations they’d been meaning to get to for ages. It had been a very dull day in terms of their work, but inside Jayce’s head, a boring work day meant more time to think about Viktor.

Whether Viktor was…sensitive. Ticklish. What kind of laugh he’d have. Would he giggle? Voice light and breathy, gently squirming and batting at Jayce’s hands while his face flushed at the feeling. Or would he cackle? His body shaking through the force of his laughter, having to clutch onto his own stomach like his reactions were being ripped from him. Maybe he’d beg Jayce to stop, maybe he’d be laughing so hard he’d be unable to even form words around his giggling, maybe he’d wail—

“Jayce, are you quite alright?” Viktor asked, his brow pinched in suspicion as he gave Jayce the one-over. “You’ve been…very distracted today. Not that I don’t appreciate the reprieve from your usual yapping, but your behavior does seem a bit unusual this evening.”

Viktor had taken to leaning against the board instead now, which was a lot easier on Jayce’s overwhelmed mind to take in.

“Sorry, sorry. Just got a lot on my mind, I guess,” Jayce gave his nothing-answer and turned back to the board to make a few marks, hoping Viktor would brush it off like he normally does. Or at least, like he used to do.

He’d been more inquisitive of Jayce lately, actually asking personal questions and even answering some of Jayce’s own. They’d gotten to know each other a lot better because of it, which was great, but it was also coming to bite Jayce in the ass right now since Viktor was able to notice that something was so off with him.

Viktor turned toward the lab’s window, his gaze on the moon shining bright through the glass. There was no telling when it had gotten dark outside, they both tended to very purposefully not look at the clock when they were at work.

Jayce heard him sigh. “It’s late,” Viktor droned, rubbing a tired hand down his face. “I wouldn’t mind taking a break if you’re also interested?”

Jayce’s brows raised in surprise, a little smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “You’re asking me if we can take a break? Where’s my partner and what have you done with him?”

Viktor gave a small blink-and-you-miss-it grin, “He’s off drowning himself in a river. His brain turned to mush after staring at one equation for nearly 3 hours.” He grabbed his cane that had been leaning against the board, before pointing a finger at himself, “New Viktor, however, just remembered the alcohol he stored in the kitchen months ago for dull days like this. And he’s inviting you to share a drink.” Viktor poked Jayce in the chest, before turning toward the kitchen.

Jayce smiled brightly. “New Viktor’s got some good ideas.”

—

They ended up drinking just a bit more than either had expected to. They weren’t drunk, per se, but their combined buzz had them talking a lot more open than usual. Their conversations felt so easy tonight, and Jayce was starting to wonder why they didn’t drink together more often.

“And the next thing I knew, I had a kitten stuffed down my shirt and a crazy lady passed out on the floor behind me,” Viktor chuckled around the rim of his glass, taking a small sip before continuing, “Little moments like that make me glad I got out of the Undercity when I did.”

Jayce snickered openly, clutching at his glass through the laughter. “I don’t know Vik, that sounds like a great time to me.”

“That’s just because you're a Piltie with minimal Undercity experience. Trust me, a kitten down my shirt was the least of my worries.”

Jayce’s laughter simmered, but his grin never left. He gestured with his glass, “So, what’d you do with it? The kitten.”

Viktor shrugged. “I carried it in my shirt all the way home. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving it with that woman, even at my young age,” He said, before giving a little chuckle at the new memory. “Actually, it was hell getting it back home. I didn’t take it out of the shirt because, before she collapsed, she said she had guys that’d be after me for it. I was naive to believe anyone would recognize the kitten on my walk, but I was young so I’ll give myself that grace.”

Viktor shook his head through a smile, taking another small sip. “But my god, if that thing didn’t tickle me the entire walk home. I must’ve looked insane. Some–hehe–some crippled kid with a lump in his chest, giggling to himself, ” Viktor couldn’t hold back his own snickers at the thought, but of course still scolded Jayce nonetheless. “Stop laughing, this was serious to me at the time.”

When that word, that one word he’d been thinking of all day, rolled out of Viktors mouth, Jayce felt his heart leap. His skin nearly prickled. And now he’s tipsy, and there was no way he could hold back on making sure they stayed on that topic for as long as he could hold it. “So what I’m hearing is, Boy Genius is too ticklish to handle a little kitten in his shirt.”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “I was a child. And I doubt you’d fare any better in that circumstance, even at your grown age.”

Jayce held his hands in surrender. “I never said I’d do any better. But it sounds like you think you aren’t ticklish anymore, which I think is total bullshit.” Jayce couldn’t hold back his smirk if he tried. “Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve just given me a way to get whatever I want in the lab. Maybe I should thank you?”

Viktor pointed at Jayce with the hand he held his glass, a small bit spilling onto the couch between them. “If you dare try something like that, I’ll go back and convince the counselors to have you arrested again.”

Jayce laughed, “Arrested for what? Tickling you?”

The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched upward, “For a hate crime. You can’t just take advantage of a cripple like that and get away with it.” Viktor claimed teasingly, before growing suspicious of Jayce’s wandering glare. He was staring hard at the glass Viktor held between them, a little smirk on his face. “What? What are you looking at?”

Jayce clicked his tongue, “Hold on, can I just—” He interrupted himself reaching his hand towards the glass, and Viktor was so caught off guard by the action (and a little slower to thinking now, thanks to their couple of drinks) that he let Jayce take the glass from him without any protest.

Jayce took one long swig of the drink, sighing hard as he set it down on the table next to them.

Viktor’s brow furrowed hard. “What the hell was that?!”

“That was me getting your glass out of the way,” Jayce’s smile was wide and his eyes alight with mischief, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “So I could test out a little theory.”

Viktor’s mind was working slow, but not that slow.

“Oh nonono , Jayce—Jayce, whatever you are thinking, stop thinking it.”

“Why?” Jayce wiggled his fingers as he scooted closer to Viktor, who cornered himself against the arm of the couch. “Nervous you’ll get caught lying?”

“Absolutely not,” Viktor said, “But I cannot promise you won’t get hit.”

“Ohoh that is a price I am more than willing to pay,” Jayce chuckled, before darting a hand out to sneak a quick pinch to Viktor’s side. The reaction was immediate. His partner choked on a sound in the back of his throat as he arched away from the fingers.

“Jayce I swear on everything—”

“C’mon, I never get to see you laugh. If it hurts, I’ll stop?” Jayce offered, and Viktor would appreciate the kind thoughtfulness of that statement had he not been too busy trying to push Jayce’s hands away from his torso. Unfortunately, the nervous smile on Viktor’s face during the entire tussle really took away any bite he tried to muster in his words.

“If it hurts, I’ll k-kill you,” Viktor’s voice wavered on the word as Jayce pushed a hand through and pinched his rib, latching on tight but not yet actually tickling. He just…held it there.

Viktor gripped onto the wrist at his ribs, pushing and pulling and trying everything to avoid his own humiliating downfall. He was already struggling to keep anticipatory giggles at bay, and Jayce was beaming at the reaction.

“You ready?”

“No, nonono, Jayce—”

“Three.”

“I’ll throw all your patents into the river!”

“Twoooooo.”

“Consider all your hard work a gross, soggy mush!”

“One!”

“Jayce, no-! aUgchk—n-nohohoho!”

Jayce finally put his fingers to work, gently pinching at that bottom rib incessantly. Viktor did exactly what Jayce thought he would. He giggled hard, arching in a way that curled his body around Jayce’s hand, and slapped at his wrist like it’d do anything to push him off.

“Y-You—You idiohohot-!” Viktor’s words faded seamlessly into another bout of laughter as Jayce brought his other hand around to squeeze nicely at Viktor’s side. Viktor squirmed in his hold, and Jayce thought he was going to melt.

Viktor looked so cute like this. Flushed from alcohol and laughter, smiling wide and desperate, squirming in Jayce’s hold like his every touch was causing a new reaction. Just cute cute cute.

“Nohot cute you freheak!” Viktor said around his giggles, making Jayce flush himself. Did I say that out loud?

Well. Might as well double down, right? “Only thing to make this any cuter would be a kitten popping outta your shirt, huh?”

Viktor visibly blushed a tinge darker, “Okahay okahay! Stohop! I cahaha-ahahah!” He couldn’t even finish his sentences. Jayce was hooked.

But he was also merciful. At his command, Jayce declawed from Viktor’s ribcage and hovered above as he watched Viktor pant and come down from his giggle fit. When Viktor caught his eye (and that doting look he got when Viktor did just about anything these days), he shoved Jayce’s face away playfully with an all too smiley groan. “I hope you got what you needed from that study, because you are never gonna try that again.”

Jayce snickered, leaning back to his spot on the couch. “Oh yeah? Says who?”

“Says the guy who’ll stick a cane up your ass if you try it,” Viktor leaned against his own respective arm of the couch.

Jayce grinned back. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

—

Hooked couldn’t begin to describe the feeling. Jayce was enthralled. Enamoured. He couldn’t stop thinking about that night, brief as it may have been. He didn’t want to go overboard with Viktor, of course, the man was weird about touch as it is. Jayce was lucky he’d been able to get his hands on him at all. But that hardly mattered. Because Jayce got to hear what Viktor sounded like when he felt ticklish, and now that he knows that sound, it might as well be on a record scratch repeat in his brain at all times.

Jayce’s leg shook anxiously under the desk. He wasn’t nervous, more just…unfocused, at the moment. Yes, partly from all of that, but mainly from the chaos of notes and blueprints and paperwork littered in front of him. That boring night must’ve just been the calm before the storm, because once they were able to get all those equations pieced together, the workload became fucking endless.

And of course Jayce loves their work, all the passion and hours they both devote to creating what is essentially their whole future. It’s a beautiful thing what happens in their lab. Astonishing. Awe-inspiring.

…and also ridiculously stressful.

Jayce must’ve been working for nearly 24 hours at this point. His legs felt like lead, and his shoulders ached from the past few hours of leaning over this desk and working working working. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s had to stretch his hand out from all the notes he’s written.

He’s fucking exhausted.

And what’s worse? Jayce knows that Viktor’s somehow been awake for even longer than him.

Jayce cleared his throat. “So uh…it’s gettin’ late, Vik. Wanna call it a night?”

Viktor was hunched over his own desk, goggles on as he meticulously worked over their project. Jayce knew if those goggles were off, he’d be able to see Viktor’s eyes trying their damndest not to slip shut from exhaustion. “Not now. This needs a few touch-ups.”

“And it can’t wait til tomorrow because…?”

“Because if I break my concentration, I may forget where I was in my progress by tomorrow,” Viktor said, before waving Jayce off. “Go, get some rest. You deserve it.”

“And you don’t?” Jayce could hear his voice get defensive, on Viktor’s behalf no less. The guy never gave himself a break, it was nothing short of a miracle that he’d been the one to suggest their break just two weeks ago. Jayce sighed, “I miss ‘New Viktor.’”

At that, Viktor paused. Lifting his goggles to his forehead and throwing Jayce an incredulous look. “Seriously, Jayce?”

Jayce pouted with a shrug, leaning against the back of his chair. “Yeah. New Viktor would’ve had a drink with me hours ago and then gone to bed at an appropriate time,” Jayce grinned. He gave an exaggerated, almost theatre-like sigh, “I guess this Viktor just isn’t as fun.”

Viktor pursed his lips at Jayce, clearly holding back a little smile at the banter. “I’m plenty of fun. This is fun,” he pointed to the contraption on his desk he’d been fiddling with.

But Jayce stayed with the bit, humming dreamily. “Ohh, New Viktor, how I miss him. He drank with me. We shared funny stories and laughed together,” Jayce smirked, getting a fun little idea. “Yeah, I remember him laughing a lot that night, actually. And it wasn’t just from the jokes he was telling.”

Viktor scoffed a half-laugh, shaking his head. “You sound sleep-deprived.”

“Noooo, my head’s pretty clear right now, actually. I remember it so clearly. Gah, New Viktor was such a riot,” Jayce sat his elbow against the desk and propped his head against his hand, giving Viktor the cheekiest grin. “He even let me tickle him. Can you believe that?”

“I did not let you do anything, don’t go twisting the narrative,” Viktor pointed at Jayce, his face losing the battle against the smile he’s been fighting. “You probably have 100 pounds on me, you practically assaulted a disabled man against his will.”

Jayce ignored him. “If I remember correctly–”

“You don’t remember a thing.”

“-he was very ticklish, even though he tried denying it at first. How silly is that? If you deny it, you know someone’s just gonna try it out and prove you wrong anyway,” Jayce said, before humming in fake contemplation, squinting and tilting his head. “Huh. Are you ticklish, Viktor?”

Viktor tapped his finger against the desk in a steady rhythm, now avoiding eye contact with Jayce. “You are ridiculous. We are grown, and I need to work.”

“Actually, you need to stop working and go to bed,” Jayce stood from his seat and walked to Viktor’s desk (who still refused to meet his gaze), leaning an arm against the top and towering over Viktor. From the new angle, he could see a little blush over Viktor’s face and ears, how he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling anymore. Cute. “You gonna do that, or am I gonna have to answer my own question since you avoided it.”

Viktor glanced at Jayce with a side-eye. “You know the answer. And you’re being childish. If I wish to work, you cannot force me to stop.”

“Actually,” Jayce grinned, before hooking his fingers under Viktor’s arms (which were so conveniently sat atop the desk, leaving his underarms open and exposed) and digging in, getting an immediate reaction from Viktor who flung his back against the chair and choked down a laugh with the funniest sound. “I think I totally can.”

Viktor squirmed, his good leg digging its heel into the ground as his arms shook against their spot glued tight to his sides. His head was ducked down to hide his face, but he kept making these choked off little sounds like he was trying his hardest not to laugh (even though they both knew how ticklish he was, it was such a useless battle that Jayce’s heart burned in adoration).

“Viktorrrrr,” Jayce sung, his fingertips travelling just a tinge lower to Viktor’s upper ribs, and that’s what did the scientist in. Viktor let out a laugh that sounded like it surprised even himself, before tittering helplessly and falling into a giggle fit he couldn’t fight if he tried.

“Nohoho! Not again, Jahahayce–!” Viktor shook his head against his laughter, slapping at Jayce’s arm as deeper belly laughs started escaping him. Jayce could almost hear in Viktor’s laughter how he started to feel the helplessness take over, how he couldn’t get out of this if he tried. “Why?!”

“Because I care about you. You need sleep even more than I do, Vik, and you aren’t gonna do it unless I make you,” Jayce said, like he wasn’t tearing Viktor apart beneath him, like Viktor wasn’t coming undone under his fingers and squirming like a worm on a hook.

Viktor laughed harder at his words, “Cruel!”

Jayce couldn’t help but snicker himself. “Cruel? I’m helping you here. Just tell me you’re gonna go to bed and this is all over!”

Viktor shook his head, “Let me work! Evil fucking–ggahahaha shihit!” He lost his words as Jayce found his lower ribs right above his sides, Viktor’s hands grasping onto Jayce’s wrists like a lifeline.

“You are so stubborn,” Jayce chuckled. “I can go all night, y’know. You aren’t winning this.”

“Jdi do píči!” Viktor cursed in his native tongue around his giggles, and Jayce felt himself blush at the sound. Oh, Viktor’s gonna be the death of him.

“Gonna assume none of those words were ‘Yes, Jayce! Of course I’ll go get some well-deserved rest, thank you for helping me!’ Would I be right?”

Viktor didn’t respond, only laughing harder as Jayce slipped his fingers back up into his armpits. His head was thrown back now, and Jayce could see his Adam's apple bobbing through this laughter. His cheeks were flushed, eyes shut tight from the smile searing his face, and god the crinkles his eyes were making just made Jayce’s brain glitch. “C’mon, Vik. I know this is tiring you out.”

“You don’t know shit!” Viktor cackled, clearly confident he could withstand this. Well, at least before Jayce slipped one hand out and started tickling the side of Viktor’s neck and ear. Viktor seemed to stumble over his own laughter, his brain fuzzing around the new sensation as he slipped in and out of belly-laughter and high-pitched giggling. The side of his head slammed against his shoulder to block the sensation, but Jayce’s fingers were already at work, scribbling and scraping against those horribly sensitive spots that Viktor clearly couldn’t stand, if his incessant cursing in another language wasn’t enough to prove it.

“Oh? This a good spot?” Jayce teased, now bringing his other hand into the mix on Viktor’s other side. Viktor’s shoulders completely hunched up, his body so overwhelmed he didn’t know what to do with himself. He doubled over, clutching one arm over his aching belly while the other continued its useless slapping at Jayce’s arm. Jayce chuckled, “What? Does this tickle or something?”

“F-Fucker!” Viktor’s voice wavered, high-pitched and bubbly, before he finally resigned to his fate. “Okay! Okahahay! Bed–! I'll sleheheep!”

“Okaaay, I’ll trust you this time,” Jayce grinned. He stopped the wiggling of his fingers, but poised the tips of his indexes right at the curve of Viktor’s ear. It was a threat, and one that made Viktor titter and squirm and pull at Jayce’s wrists uselessly. “But next time I catch you without sleep for nearly two days like this, I’m not going easy on you.”

Finally, Jayce pulled his hands away, and Viktor slumped against the back of the chair with an exhausted sigh. “Have I ever told you how much I don’t like you.”

Jayce snickered, “Yeah. And I didn’t believe you then either.”

Viktor grinned, wiping a hand down his face. “I knew you’d do that eventually. I couldn’t expect you to find out something like that and not use it against me at some point,” He stood up on wobbly knees, and Jayce quickly handed him the cane that had fallen on the ground during Viktor’s squirming. “Just didn’t expect you to be so cruel about it.”

“Hey I wasn’t cruel–”

“Oh? You weren’t? Torturing a disabled man when he’s running off no sleep for over 48 hours isn’t what you’d call cruel?” Viktor teased, gathering things off his desk to bring home in his bag.

“Torture?” Jayce’s voice tilted up his grin. “You never even told me to stop.”

Viktor’s hands fumbled and he dropped a few pens. Jayce laughed as he bent down to retrieve them, their hands brushing as he gave them back. Viktor looked like a pouty cat, lips thin in a tight line with squinted eyes. Best of all, his ears were burning.

“It's a little hard to speak when you’re being forced to laugh.”

“But not hard enough you can’t slip in a few curses, right?”

Viktor had no rebuttal to that, merely scoffing like he had no clue what Jayce was talking about as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Jayce.”

Jayce watched as Viktor walked toward the door, completely satisfied with himself. He did it. And…it didn’t seem like Viktor even minded that much. In fact…hm. Maybe he’s reading too much into it. There’s no way Viktor liked it as much as Jayce. That’d be crazy.

“And um…” Viktor had the lab door pushed halfway open, stopping himself with his back turned to Jayce as he spoke. “Thank you.”

Jayce just could not help himself. “For tickling you?”

Viktor laughed at Jayce’s gall, “For making me get rest, you bastard,” He glanced over his shoulder to Jayce, who looked over the moon at Viktor’s honesty. “I know I need this, despite how I fight against it. So…though your methods are horrible, and undignified, and childish and stupid, and really show how odd your personality is—”

“Let’s get to thanks, yeah?”

Viktor smiled as he turned back around from Jayce. “...Thank you for looking out for me. I do appreciate the care.”

Jayce wanted to hug Viktor so tight their bodies melded together. Instead, he said, “Anytime. You know that.”

—

Viktor fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Jayce was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d lied when he said it was only two days without sleep. It was probably closer to four. Jayce just didn’t know that because the last time Viktor went home, he’d taken some of their projects and papers with him to work on in his own personal study.

So yes. His rest was needed, or whatever. And he did sleep really, really good. Almost 14 hours completely uninterrupted as he snoozed warm and cozy under the covers.

Only problem was…his mind ran a little rampant in his sleep that night. The events of the night before, with Jayce, and Jayce’s hands, and Jayce’s fingers, and Jayce teasing him so close to his ear he could feel his skin prickle with Jayce’s breath on his neck. All those thoughts that made his belly warm and fluttery were what he fell asleep to that night.

Which led to some…interesting dreams to think about when he woke up that morning.

“Does it tickle worse here? Orrrr here?”

“Jahahayce! No plehehease!”

“Answer the question, Vik. Your thighs or your hips?”

Jayce’s fingers were pressed deep into both spots, one hand tickling deep into his thigh first, before pausing so his other hand could wreak a similar havoc against Viktor’s hip. The feeling was overwhelming, and Viktor squirmed hard against the weight of Jayce pressed on top of him on the lab couch. Viktor was fully pinned under Jayce, unable to move and only allowed to squirm because Jayce thought it looked pretty when he did it.

“Hihips! Jayce, hips, plehehease!” Viktor wailed, and when Jayce paused, Viktor inhaled like he hadn’t had a good breath in years. His breath was labored, shaky, laced with leftover giggling from Jayce’s attack.

And Jayce just looked down at him like Viktor hung the moon that lit their lab through the window.

“I love your laugh.”

Viktor squirmed at the praise, shoving Jayce’s face. “Stop.”

“That’s the first time you told me to stop. What, am I embarrassing you?”

“Stop!” Viktor whined, shoving both hands over Jayce’s eyes so he couldn’t look at him in this flustered state.

But Jayce only chuckled, grabbing Viktor’s wrists and hoisting them up over his head to pin them against the arm of the couch.

“But you like it, don’t you?”

Viktor woke up with a jolt, his eyes wide and breath uneven.

Shit. Was he actually into this? What the fuck did Jayce do to him.

...

hope u enjoyed! pls consider reblogging if you did <3

#i dont even go here #ive been wanting ti watch arcane though lol #arcane #jayce #viktor #.fic

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blueberrygiggles · 19 days ago

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YOOOOOO !!!!

this is so cute! thank you so much for this 🥰🥰🥰

Hey there @blueberrygiggles !!! You’re my giftee for @squealing-santa this year!! :DD

So I give you silly Miles and Pav :]]

I’m so glad I’m able to participate this year!! I hope you like your gift!! 🫂🫂

#ss2k24 #atsv #.art

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blueberrygiggles · 1 month ago

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can u draw lee! tamaki ? - ohshc :3 🌸☕️

KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE—

ahem, I mean, yeah, why not

Fun fact, this is my first time drawing these characters, although I watched the anime itself about four years ago, if not earlier...

#ohshc #art

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blueberrygiggles · 1 month ago

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hope the us government appreciates my constant searching for tickle fics

#lmao same

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blueberrygiggles · 1 month ago

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Tips for writing fics with tickling:

Don't refer to the roles as lee and ler. I think it takes the reader out of the scene, as the community has made these words up. There are better terms to use anyways. Also, by not using these, people from outside the community reading your fics won't be confused.

Every time a new person talks, MAKE A NEW PARAGRAPH. This is for all fics, but I see this a lot with tickle fics as there is a lot of dialogue switching. If I see a block of text that is half one character laughing and the other half is the other person talking, I'm not gonna read your fic.

I dig when some people write people laughing in all caps, but use it sparingly. Reading all caps for longer than a sentence makes the brain disassociate and I can't read anymore. It's a fun technique, but use it when it's needed.

This is a personal pet peeve of mine, but you don't have to follow it if you don't want to. Not everyone needs to do baby talk. If you have a character that is quieter or stoic that is tickling someone, they probably won't do much of baby talk. Make sure your character teases are appropriate and in character, unless you intend for them not to be.

There are so many different forms of laughter, but a lot of them aren't interchangeable. Envision what you think the laughter will sound like, and base your writing on that. But don't forget to have fun with it.

Writing is supposed to be fun. If you're writing fics and it feels like a chore for you, take a break. Write when you feel like it.

Take the prompts you want. If you get a prompt that isn't very descriptive, toss it or get more info. Make sure the person submitting the prompt knows what they want so you know what they want.

That's all I have. I've been in this community as a reader since 2013 and a writer since 2016. This is some of my knowledge in writing and just reading these fics. Feel free to share/reblog this. There are a lot of new writers so I figured I could give some fun advice, but no need to take this seriously if you don't want to!

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blueberrygiggles · 1 month ago

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Tell Me More

heyyyyy everyone

so this is a fic i wrote for the movie challengers, which i am. absolutely obsessed with. and have been since it came out. ask @mushiewrites he knows better than anyone.

obviously, no pressure to read if you’re not into challengers, i really just wrote this fic on a whim for my own enjoyment and i figured i would just post it bc why not 🤷 most likely will be the only challengers fic i post here UNLESS the people want to see more, then i would lmao. but for now, here’s the fic, let me know what you think <3

lee!art, ler!patrick, ler!tashi, 3.9k words

enjoy!!

“Tell me more,” Tashi said, the three of them sat in a triangle on the hotel room floor, two half empty beers between them. Her eyes were trained on Patrick’s as she reached down to adjust the bunched up socks by her ankles.

“Uh…” Patrick began, looking over at Art, who looked back at him, cheeks still tilted pink with his fingers covering his shy smile, no doubt still flushed warm from the utterly humiliating story about his personal life– a secret that was meant to stay between him and Patrick until the day they died– that had just been aired out in front of Tashi fucking Duncan. He chuckled, always entertained by Art’s embarrassment, and Art pressed the heel of his hand into his eye with a groan. “I dunno, I think Art’s a little embarrassed,” Patrick teased, reaching over and ruffling his friend’s floppy blonde hair, earning himself a smack to the wrist as Art pushed him away.

��Aww, he’s okay, aren’t you?” Tashi asked condescendingly, turning her attention to the boy in question as he tilted his head back against the bed behind him. She watched him swallow harshly, then look over at her with the same smile he hadn’t been able to wipe off the whole night, shaking his head and rolling his eyes fondly. “I think Art loves this,” She theorized, mostly not serious, but her eyebrows quirked up and her smirk stretched when Art didn’t deny it and Patrick sent a knowing wink her way.

”I think Art wants to punch both of you,” Art replied graciously, his smile growing as he heard the other two laugh, biting his bottom lip. He let out a soft breath, changing positions on the floor, bending one leg up to wrap his arms around his shin and resting his cheek against his knee, looking up through his lashes at Patrick as he continued to try and wrack his brain for more stories to tell Tashi.

Patrick glanced over at him, and he gave him a gentle smile, one that formed smile lines by his eyes and showed his teeth just enough for the little lightbulb above Patrick’s head to flick to life. Patrick gasped, eyebrows raised, breaking out into a cheek splitting grin as he turned his attention back to Tashi.

“Oh, I know exactly what you wanna hear,” Patrick said with a smirk, crossing his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his hands.

“Oh, do you?” She asked, a challenge in her words. Patrick nodded, leaning more onto his left hand, his body angled towards Art like a magnetic pull. His smirk grew, his gaze flicking from Tashi, to Art, back to Tashi, and back to Art. Art furrowed his eyebrows, turning his head to press his lips to his own knee instead, just as confused as Tashi was about where Patrick was going with this. Patrick turned his head back to her, keeping his eyes on his friend until the last possible second, before he finally let them in on whatever secret he had in mind.

“Our sweet little Art over here is insanely ticklish,” Patrick said, blunt and teasing and making Art’s breath halt in his chest almost painfully. The room was silent for all of five seconds, the broken air conditioner rattling harshly against the frame of the open window, Art’s heart pounding against the inside of his ribcage at the sudden admission.

“…What?” Tashi said, in disbelief, a smile neither man had seen from her yet that night gracing her features– a smile Patrick recognized from watching her matches. She smiled like that on the court, confident, cocky; she smiled like that when she was playing a good game of tennis, when she was winning.

“What?” Art replied immediately after, eyes wide, lifting his head up from his knee, grip tightening on his shin and back stiffening as he froze in place.

“I’m serious.” His eyes met Art’s for barely a second, just to narrow at him smugly, before they were back on Tashi so he could continue. “He always has been, since we were kids, but a lot of people, y’know… either, like, grow out of it or it at least changes and differs from then as they’re older, right?” He earned a hum from Tashi, who had now looked over at Art, but he had his eyes fixed on his friend who had once again kicked him directly in the balls just for the hell of it.

“Art,” She said, as if she was talking to a scared puppy. He slowly looked over at her, his shocked expression unchanged, and she continued. “Is this true?”

“…I think we need more ice,” was his response, before standing up from his spot on the floor.

“We have an entire bucket,” Patrick pointed out, the smirk on his face smug enough to make Art want to kick it right off him.

“Well, maybe we need two,” He responded, turning towards the door in an attempt to escape, to go out into the hallway and do God knows what until he assumed it was safe to enter the room again– though, knowing Patrick, he would probably have a better chance walking all the way home.

Patrick shot himself up from the floor, his body whizzing past Tashi with a mischievous giggle before any of them could process it, and suddenly Art felt two arms around his waist and he was being lifted a few inches off the ground.

“FUCK–“ Art yelled, his legs instinctively curling before stretching out to try to get his footing back, fingers digging into Patrick’s arms around him. “Patrick!” He scolded, able to get his bare feet back on the floor, planting all his weight down and making it harder for the other to move him.

“Just let it happen!” Patrick yelled as he and Art fought for the upper hand. He shoved Art with his shoulder, able to knock him off balance for a moment, one leg slipping out from under him as he was yanked back towards the beds. Art grunted at the force, lips pressed into a determined line as he fought to hide his smile, twisting his upper body so he could clamp his elbow down on the side of Patrick’s head, pinning it under his arm and completing the headlock with a righteous chuckle. “Oh, you little–“ Patrick grumbled, leaning into the position, folding himself practically in half so he could swing his arm around to take out the back of Art’s knees.

“Shit–!” Art gasped, his knees giving out from the impact and knocking him down enough for Patrick to throw him halfway over his shoulder, just enough to carry him against his will. “Ow, what the hell?!” Art complained, voice strained from how the air was taken from his lungs with the movements. Art squirmed as much as he could, pushing himself off Patrick’s shoulders and falling half down his back, but Patrick remedied this by dropping Art’s legs and immediately hooking his arm under one of his knees instead, making Art yelp in shock and grab onto Patrick’s– his, come to think of it– shirt to keep himself from falling flat onto his back on the floor. “JESUS– fuck, Patrick! What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“You’re being ridiculous!” Patrick bit through his teeth, making Art chuckle incredulously, hearing the fondness in the words still.

“Oh, I’m being ridicul–OUS!“ Art tried to give a snarky response, but he was cut off as he was unceremoniously launched onto the bed with an undignified squeal. “Hey!” His palms grabbed the sheets instantly, pushing his body up and trying to reorient himself, scrambling up the bed to try and swing his legs over and make another run for it, but Patrick was quick to grab his ankle and yank him back down towards the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off, before jumping on top of him and wrestling him once again. “NO– OW!” He groaned as Patrick’s elbow hit him right in the ribs, grabbing the hurt area, but Patrick was quick to take advantage of the situation to crawl up the bed, above Art’s head, roughly grabbing his arms and manhandling him so he could pin them down. “Get off me!”

“No!” Patrick yelled back, and Art growled angrily as he fought against him, catching a glimpse of his overconfident smirk and growing even more frustrated. “Holy fuck you’re stronger than you look!”

“Fuck off!” In seconds, Art’s wrists were held down by Patrick’s stupidly harsh grip, and his knees pressed into his biceps to keep him down. Art struggled still, twisting and turning, straining his arms and clenching his fists, but his attempts were unsuccessful. Eventually, Art accepted defeat, both men breathing heavily from the adrenaline and the exhaustion.

“Are you finished?” Patrick asked, smug face hovering above Art’s when he looked up.

“Fuck you.”

“Are you two done with your foreplay now or do I have to gouge my own eyes out?” Tashi asked, reminding the other two of her presence that hadn’t been forgotten even slightly, making them both whip their heads around to look at her. Art groaned, closing his eyes and dropping his head back, his face growing pink again from another round of embarrassment.

“C’mon, I’ll show you what to do,” Patrick motioned her over with a flick of his head.

“No, you don’t have to do that, Patrick’s just being an idiot,” Art said, moving his eyes between the two of them, glaring frustratedly up at his friend and yanking on his wrists once more. But, to his dismay, he felt a hand rest on his knee, and he whipped his head around to see Tashi climbing onto the bed to straddle his thighs, a satisfied smile on her face.

If she was only here for entertainment, she sure would be getting what she wanted.

“Tashi,” Art tried, meaning for it to be a warning, though it fell short when his breath stuttered at the way Tashi looked down at him, almost hungry. “Tash– Tashi you don’t have to do this.”

“Does he always beg this fast?” She asked, her gaze fixed on Art’s torso, and he squirmed under the attention.

“Yes, always,” Patrick confirmed, and Art couldn’t help but scoff, and he would’ve rolled his eyes if they weren’t still closed to avoid any kind of eye contact. He was still coming to terms with the fact that this was even happening in the first place.

“That’s cute.” She placed her hands gently on his sides over his gray Stanford t-shirt, smirking when he sucked in his stomach with a sharp breath through his teeth, muscles tightening more than they already were. He let out another sound, less of an intimidating growl and more of a pathetic whine, and he squeezed his eyes shut harder and turned his head away from the open air, pressing his forehead against the inside of Patrick’s knee that pressed his arm down. He heard them both chuckle at him, before Patrick began his explanation.

“So, there’s pretty much a technique that’ll get a reaction out of, like, most normal ticklish spots you can think of, but I’m gonna tell you about a few of my personal favorites,” Patrick started, earning a nod from Tashi. “My go-to is usually just starting with his ribs, just because, like, usually they’re easy to get to and they get a pretty solid reaction no matter what you do.” Tashi hummed in understanding, smirking when Art finally looked up at her, scratching her nails over his ribs on top of his shirt. He gasped immediately, arching his back and throwing his head back against Patrick, pressing his lips together tightly, unable to stop the quiet groan that escaped.

“He’s trying not to laugh,” Tashi observed, her smile growing as she watched Art squirm against his own will.

“Go harder,” Patrick advised, meeting her eyes.

“Don’t,” Art bit through his teeth, voice strained and fists clenched tightly.

“Don’t?” She asked, her nails moving up and down his ribcage as she scratched and clawed at them, keeping her touch light, intentional, methodical.

“Mm-mm,” He grunted as he shook his head.

“Why not? What’s gonna happen if I do?”

“Nothing.” Art gasped when her fingers came a little too close to his underarms, straining his shoulders in an attempt to pull his arms down, his lips forming into a wide smile that he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Well, if nothing’s gonna happen, I might as well do it,” She teased, suddenly digging her fingers into his ribs, making him yell out and arch his back again, his entire body tense underneath her.

“NO–!” He yelped, his mouth staying open for a second as he still held his reactions, but the second she moved her harsh fingers up to drill into the top of his ribs near his underarms, he was a goner. “Fuhuck–!” He groaned, the first giggles slipping out, making both of the others react with excitement that only served to make his stomach turn more.

“Hey! There we go, was that so hard?” Patrick teased, making Art groan through his now constant laughter, only interrupted by gasps and growls at them as he kept up his attitude. Patrick directed his attention back to Tashi, coaching her further. “His ribs get worse the higher up you go, so that was a good find. His armpits aren’t as sensitive as the tops of his ribs but if you’re already up there and getting him worked up it still works wonders.”

“Fuhuck ohoff– AH–!” Art scolded, but he was cut off by a yell when Patrick shot his hands to dig into his underarms for barely a second, before returning them to their place pinning his wrists down, his attention never leaving Tashi as he did so.

“See?”

“Yohohou are an ihidiohot!”

“I know. Anyway,” Patrick adjusted his position, taking his hands off Art’s wrists in favor of leaning over him more, still keeping his arms pinned with his lower body– much to Art’s dismay, as he did immediately try to worm his way free with little success.

He chose to blame the fact that Tashi was still scratching aimlessly at his ribs, down to his sides and even over his stomach a few times, making him tense and his skin jump and flutter at the feeling. Her face remained content, a smile on her lips, and her touch remained confident but turned undisciplined, her fingers gliding wherever they wanted to without much thought, her attention jumping between Art’s reactions and her own actions, almost entranced by what she was doing to cause him to react however he did. She took in every detail– every spot that made him giggle and squirm, that made him gasp and arch his back, that made him whine and lean into her fingers– as if she was studying a new technique on the court.

She was playing with him, determined to win, and that feeling alone drove such a sharp shiver down Art’s spine that he knew she already had. They all knew– she had won before they even started.

“Tashi,” Patrick said, catching her attention and making her look over at him. He smiled at her, fondness for both of them apparent on his face, reaching down to run one hand through Art’s hair to get it out of his eyes, as it had gotten pretty messy from his squirming and head shaking and hiding his face against Patrick. Art groaned, trying to shake his head to throw Patrick’s hand off, but Patrick simply tightened his grip in his hair and settled his head straight back instead, making him swallow harshly through his laughter and roll his eyes before closing them again. “Lean towards me, like, kneel above him instead of sitting, just for a second,” He explained, motioning for her to do so with his free hand, and she did so, sitting up on her knees and shuffling forward a little to keep stability. “Perfect. Now reach behind you and squeeze above his knees–“

“Noho!” Art panicked, squirming more intentionally, pushing himself up further towards Patrick and trying to keep his legs away, even though Tashi hadn’t made a move yet. She raised her eyebrows at his reaction, laughing to herself.

”Okay, now I have to try that,” She said, and Art shook his head as he watched her anxiously, waiting for the inevitable.

”No, nono, Tahashi, Tashihi, don’t–“ He pleaded, still squirming, until Tashi latched her hands onto his thighs and squeezed incessantly at them. He let out another squeal, his mouth falling open as he broke out into bright laughter, his eyes squeezing shut as he kicked out against her hands and grabbed onto the material of Patrick’s shorts. ”Nohohoho!” He whined through his laughter, his squirming causing his shirt to ride up and expose some of his skin, his hip bones poking out as he twisted and turned.

“Oh, yeah, this was so worth it,” She mused, earning an embarrassed groan from Art, one that she had come to expect throughout the endeavor.

“Tahashi, stohohop!”

“Oh!” Patrick interrupted excitedly, and Tashi pulled her hands back and looked over at him, giving the poor boy underneath them a moment to catch his breath, settling herself back over his thighs. He shifted his hips, feeling the warm breeze from the open window of the room pass over his body, reminding him of his exposed stomach and making the ball of nerves he felt there grow again. Still, he couldn’t help his curiosity, and he looked up at Patrick to hear what ridiculous, humiliating detail he was about to reveal next. “He does this thing– like, okay–“ Patrick started, cutting himself off, leaning further forward and shifting his legs back, giving Art the opportunity to yank his arms out from under him. Patrick acted just as quickly though, grabbing his wrists and holding them firmly out to the sides– not pinning them down, but making sure Art couldn’t use his arms to protect himself at all.

”Fuck–“ Art said through gritted teeth, pulling at his arms, his jaw tightly locked shut and a sad pout sitting on his face, trapped once again.

“He does this thing,” Patrick continued, squeezing Art’s wrists, smiling as he spoke. “Where he scrunches up his nose–”

”NO, fuck you, do not–!”

“Shhh, he scrunches up his nose when you trace over his hip bones really lightly and it’s so fucking cute, it’s insane,” He finished, and Tashi couldn’t help but smile at the new information.

”God, Patrick!” Art whined, voice strained still, turning back to hide his face against Patrick’s leg. He sighed heavily, biting his bottom lip to try to keep any stray reactions in, until he felt a hand gently touch his jaw, turning him to look up at Tashi again, her bright smile calming his nerves for a split second, even though he knew exactly what was going to happen.

“Stay like that,” She instructed, voice soft, but Art still rolled his eyes and did as she said. He tilted his head back slightly, closing his eyes again with a sigh, fingers clenching into fists with his nerves. Then, her hands trailed back down, pushing his shirt out of the way and trailing her nails over his hips.

Art could swear he was being tortured.

It felt like electric currents were running through his veins, sending shocks to his spine, down his legs, up the back of his neck, his entire body tense and shaking. He couldn’t stop himself from gasping, biting his lip, before breaking out into the most adorable, high pitched, desperate giggles Tashi and Patrick had ever heard in their lives. Tashi added a second finger to each hip, moving in and out in a jellyfish motion over the jutting bones there, smiling as she watched his tummy jump and flutter at the sensation before looking up to see that Patrick was absolutely right.

His entire face was bright pink, his eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment, his nose scrunched as he giggled freely. He still tried to curl in on himself, his elbows pulled in close to his sides, his wrists still held by Patrick, though he didn’t seem to be trying too hard to get away anymore.

“I hahahate thihihis,” Art complained, whining more than ever, and the other two both laughed at how blatantly untrue the statement seemed. Art didn’t even sound like he believed it too much himself. He groaned, giving up Tashi’s demand and trying to hide his face again, but Patrick scolded him gently and dropped one of his wrists to cup his jaw and hold his head up. “Pahatrihihick!” Art complained, using his now free hand to try to pry his fingers away. He was unsuccessful, and instead decided to reach down to blindly bat Tashi’s hand away, though she was not very happy about this.

“Don’t interrupt me!” She scolded playfully, grabbing his wrist and pinning it under her knee before poking ruthlessly at the area above his hip, making him squeal.

“NOHO– okahahay! Okay, okhaay, okahahahay! Stohohohop, plehehease!” He pleaded, the sudden switch overwhelming, yanking his hand free from her knee and pushing her hand away. She let out an amused laugh, cupping her hands around him and rubbing her thumbs over the front of his hip bones, letting him breathe. Patrick followed suit, removing his hands entirely and letting Art cover his face with his hands immediately. He groaned, clearing his throat and sighing, his body coming down from how tense and out of breath he was.

“You alright?” Tashi asked, pulling Art’s shirt down and pushing herself off him, sitting cross legged on the bed next to the other two.

“No,” He grumbled, his voice hoarse and muffled by his hands over his face. He dropped one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other. “I died.”

“You died, did you?” She said with a raised eyebrow, earning a nod and a hum in response, a smile on his face again. Patrick chuckled, shaking his head fondly.

“He’s fine,” He confirmed, shoving Art’s shoulder. “C’mon. Get up,” He said, earning another groan, but Art sat up nonetheless, and Patrick threw an arm around his shoulders and pressed his lips to the side of his head. “See? He’s fine.”

“Well, I’m very glad,” Tashi said with a smile, all three of them sharing a few giddy giggles. “You guys do that a lot?”

“No, I wouldn’t say–“

“All the time,” Patrick said at the same time, interrupting Art and making him bite his lip again, warmth burning his face once again. The other two chuckled, watching him shake his head and attempt to collapse forward onto the bed to hide his face further, but his plan was stopped by a hand on either shoulder pushing him back up.

Tashi’s hand dropped to his thigh, as he had mirrored her cross legged position, and Patrick’s slid down to rest in the middle of his back. She glanced down at her hand, her thimb rubbing against his bare skin, before she continued.

“You’ll have to show me more sometime,” She said, voice low, looking up at Art through her lashes and making the swarm of butterflies in his stomach spring to life again. He chuckled nervously, glancing over at Patrick, but his eyes were already switching between his own and Tashi’s, as if he had every move already calculated in his head.

After that moment, the rest of the night was history.

#INSANE FIC ILY #challengers #.fic

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blueberrygiggles · 2 months ago

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Could I get lee!dabi and ler!hawks for day 28? <3

TickleTober Day 28 - Spooked

~Ehehe my bois! These two will always be one of my favorite ships to write; it’s so fun with their dialogue! Been a hot sec, so I’m sticking to the character attributes I remember. Dabi’s got his black hair and patchwork chest, and Hawks has his wings. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Dabi

Ler: Hawks

Summary: Dabi decides to spook his boyfriend with a “harmless” prank. Hawks doesn’t appreciate his sense of humor, teaching the crispy-fried villain a lesson he won’t soon forget.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“I’m home, Dabs!” Hawks bumped his hip against the janky door of the villain’s apartment, sighing as it stuck once again. He’d really have to get on his ass about moving in with him…

“Uh…why’s it so dark?” The winged hero felt like he was talking to himself as he looked around, fumbling for the light switch. It was in such a weird place; he could never find it, and that was with the lights on.

A thump sounded from Dabi’s room, making Hawks’s eyes narrow. That wasn’t normal…

Two feathers came off his wings, hovering beside him as he slowly approached the door. He was in full hero-mode, the familiar feeling of adrenaline creeping into his veins almost putting him at ease.

When he reached the door, he sent the feathers towards the thumping noise, only to find them…sticking out of the top of a Roomba. A very sad and confused little Roomba that kept bumping into the wall, hence the thumping.

“What the fu-”

“AAAUGH!”

Hawks let out his own scream at the deep-throated howl that came from behind him, whirling around to strike the offender. His wrist was easily caught, though instead of a bullet to the ribs or stab to the heart, he was met by the cheeky grin of his boyfriend.

“Ha! Holy fuckin’ shit, birdy! I didn’t think it’d get you that bad!” Dabi’s teeth were showing in an uncharacteristically gleeful smile, his eyes glowing with amusement. “Thought you hero types were supposed to be brave and all that.”

“You…” The blonde’s brain took a moment to catch up, the adrenaline in his system still addling his thoughts. Dabi had turned out the lights, set the Roomba, and… “You asshole! What if I’d stabbed you?!”

“But you didn’t. Actually, you stabbed the Roomba. Poor lil’ guy.” Dabi nudged the thing with his foot, watching as it shifted back and forth on the carpet. Hawks had definitely damaged it, but hadn’t completely broken it. It was just stuck in a sad little shuffle.

“I didn’t mean to- since when did you have a Roomba?” Hawks asked incredulously, looking around the apartment. The floor was kinda clean for once, save for the random shirt or sock here and there.

“Found it.” Dabi snickered at the look that earned him. “What, the guy was a dick! He was scammin’ people the whole morning.”

“Damn it, Dabi,” Hawks sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. No matter how terrible of a person the guy was, he shouldn’t have been stolen from. Unfortunately, the machine wasn’t exactly in peak condition anymore. “Can’t really return it now…”

“Oh no, so sad.” Dabi’s monotone snark really let Hawks know he regretted his actions. Not. “You should’ve seen your face, Keigo. Adorable~”

“Proud of yourself, are you?” Hawks’s voice dropped an octave, making Dabi’s grin falter slightly. Maybe he’d gone a little far, but…well, he really didn’t regret it. It was fun as hell to spook him.

“Yep. I always knew you were a chicken~”

Oho, that’s it, you shithead!

Hawks lunged at his boyfriend, making the man jump back. He landed on his bed, the bird quickly jumping down on top of him. After a quick tousle, the winged hero had him pinned, a dangerously playful glare on his face.

“Damn! You really are an adrenaline junkie, ain’t ya?” Dabi smirked up at him, puffing his chest out a bit. Even when he was stuck beneath someone, he managed to dominate the situation.

“Shut up.” The tone of his lover’s voice immediately shut him up, leaving the burnt boy blinking in surprise. Hawks shifted, forcing the man’s arms above his head. “You like laughing at me so much? Try laughing at yourself.”

“H-hey, Keigo, wait a min- GRK!” Dabi jolted as the winged hero targeted his navel, immediately attacking the unburned area that he knew damn well was ticklish as hell. The man lasted a grand total of five seconds before he broke.

“FUHUHUCK YOUHUHUHU!” The villain thrashed and tugged on his arms, trying to get free of his boyfriend’s evil grip. He was really regretting wearing such a thin shirt…

“We could’ve just cuddled when I got home, but noooo. Someone had to be a little asshole and scare me.” Hawks didn’t stop the scolding as he tickled him, leaning in so the ravenette could hear him over his own laughter. “You brought this on yourself.”

“SHUHUHUT UHUHUHUP!” His taunt stomach quivered as he laughed, sure to be sore later during training. He really didn’t have a good comeback for the man; he wasn’t wrong, but there was no way Dabi was gonna admit it.

“No thanks. You learn best when you’re forced to.”

A thought popped into Hawks’s mind, making him smirk. Teaching him was a good idea, actually. He lifted his hand from the man’s stomach, instead sending two feathers to trace along his collarbones. Dabi’s unruly laughter slowly died down to airy giggles at the tactic change, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m gonna ask you some questions, babe. Try not to get them wrong.” Hawks flexed his fingers menacingly before speaking again, the feathers never stopping their gentle teasing. “Is it okay to steal from someone, even if they’re being a dick?”

“I-ihihin the rihight cihircumstahance, yeheah.” Dabi answered with his honest opinion, knowing it would piss the bird boy off. He was digging his own grave, but he was doing it with style. At least, he felt like he was.

“Bzzzt! Wrong, jackass. The correct answer was ‘No, beautiful, it’s not.’” Hawks dug his fingers back in as he made the buzzer noise, giving Dabi’s navel a good knead.

“C-COHOHOCKY BAHASTAHARD!” Dabi arched his back off the bed, though he was quickly pushed back down by Hawks’s elbow. He really wasn’t playing around…

After a nice two-minute penalty, Hawks tried asking a different question. “Let’s try this one. Is it okay to scare the living daylights out of our boyfriends who take down bad guys for a living?”

Dabi bit his lip as he giggled, panting slightly. It would be in his best interest to answer wisely, but… Well, Hawks didn’t lose control often. He wanted to see what would happen if he pushed that little bit too far.

“Hehell yeah. Ehespecially whehen thehey’re adohohorable lihittle chihicken- GYAAAAHAHAHA!”

The smug retort was cut off by a loud and ridiculous sound. Hawks blew a raspberry – a fucking raspberry – on his navel, nearly sending the burnt man into silent laughter. Curse his damn sensitivity!

Just to really make sure the lesson made it through his boyfriend’s thick head, Hawks blew a few more little ones across his stomach. By the time he was done, the unburned crests of Dabi’s cheeks were practically glowing with a blush, his eyes half-lidded. Hawks thought it was beautiful, taking a mental snapshot.

“One more chance.” The feathers resumed their tracing, swooping across the spent man’s collarbones once again. The sleepy giggles nearly made Hawks melt, but he held strong. “Was it a good idea to scare me like that, especially when you had to steal to do it?”

“N-nohohoho…” Dabi’s resolve had been thoroughly broken, his weary body lying still as the feather grazed across his skin. It was actually sort of relaxing, the soft compared to the rough.

“There ya go. Good job,” Hawks cooed, petting his exhausted boyfriend’s head as he settled down. If he were fully awake, Dabi would no doubt be taking his revenge; he wasn’t, though, his clingy side showing with the grogginess.

Dabi wrapped his arms loosely around Hawks as the man lied down, nuzzling his face into his soft hair. It smelled faintly of his vanilla shampoo, though he was much too tired to tease him about the scent. Instead, he sighed and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of his lover seep into his bones. A moment later, he felt Hawks’s wings extend, draping over them like a weighted blanket. So tired…

“Love you, KFC…”

“Love you too, you burnt chicken nuggie.”

#dabi #hawks #.fic #bnha

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blueberrygiggles · 2 months ago

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can I tell you a secret

#NO WAYYYYYY #LIKE IM SHOCKED BUT NOW THAT I KNOW IT MAKES SENSE????#reveal of the decade tho

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blueberrygiggles · 2 months ago

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Hey Magic Makers!

I have now confirmed all registrations received for this year's event. If you haven't received a confirmation about your registration please reach out as I am unsure how many actually got through due to the temporary ban on the account last week.

THERE ARE TWO DAYS UNTIL REGISTRATION CLOSES!

You can still register here until November 3rd AEST

Thanks everyone!

#ss2k24

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blueberrygiggles · 2 months ago

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signing up for squealing santa is always like "what fandoms do i even enjoy actually, at least besides my huge primary fixation at the time" skjdfhkjsdfh

#fr it's like what shows have i Actually seen #what fandoms do i know #have i ever consumed a single piece of media #takes me legit a full day to fill out

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blueberrygiggles · 2 months ago

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Hey Magic Makers

All registration submissions have been confirmed through DM/Ask as of October 22nd at 3:30pm AEST (now)

YOU CAN STILL REGISTER HERE UNTIL NOVEMBER 3RD AT MIDNIGHT

If you registered before this date/time and haven't received a confirmation message, please reach out through the ask box, as tumblr has deactivated DMs for my main account and the Squealing Santa account.

I am working on opening the DMs again, hopefully tumblr support will get back to me ASAP, but until then please communicate through asks.

Apologies, thank you all for your patience.

#we're registered babes !!!#squealing santa 2k24

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blueberrygiggles · 2 months ago

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Training Montage

#AugTickletober2024 Days 13 & 14, Win & Lose

My first tickletober fic of the year, and my first time exploring writing with DC characters! I have been. Hyperfixating on the batfamily (which has broadened to a far larger amount of DC characters now and continues to grow, i will never escape DC lol) since like. June. So this has been a long time coming skjdfhdf

Also this fic features FULLY PLATONIC AND NOT WEIRD parent-child tickles so if that's not your thing this is not your fic!

You can blame this fic on that one quick scene in BTAS episodes Robin's Reckoning where Dick and Bruce are fencing and then start goofing off, and also the part with Bruce and Jason in @/fickle-tiction's fic For Old Time's Sake.

Also, disclaimer: i have only consumed so much canon media, very little of it so far being comics and most of it being DCAU, so my current knowledge of a LOT of these characters is very fanon-based, so the characterization will also be very fanon-based

-------------

Fandom: DC - Batfam

Ship(s): NONE/GEN/PLATONIC - under no circumstances is this Batcest

Characters (lee/ler): Switch!Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian

Word Count: 4609 words

Summary: Snippets of Bruce training with his sons over the years.

[ao3 link]

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Dick’s training was progressing exceptionally well. He had always been fast and agile thanks to his acrobatic upbringing, but he was quick to pick up the offensive and defensive maneuvers Bruce was trying to impart. Still, he was so young. Sometimes Bruce couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing, bringing a child into this life.

It became all too apparent in moments like these, where training suddenly switched from work into play with just a few of Dick’s childish giggles. Bruce couldn’t help the grin they brought to his own face, laughing a little himself as Dick dove into the open space between Bruce’s legs to evade a grapple.

“Okay, now you’re gonna get it,” he said.

Dick kept giggling, the laughter melting into a yelp as Bruce grabbed the edge of the training mat and yanked, sending Dick crashing down onto the plush surface. Bruce launched after him, wiggling fingers outstretched like weapons.

“No fair!” Dick shouted, his giggling bubbling up into full laughter as he tried to squirm away from the hands squeezing his sides. “You cheated!”

“Oh, yeah?”

He tripped his fingers up to Dick’s ribs, laughing along as Dick flopped around like a fish out of water. It was adorable how uncoordinated Dick became when he was tickled, all that acrobatic control flying out the window.

“Cheating cheater!” Dick screeched, kicking his legs and rolling onto his back to dislodge Bruce. All he accomplished was opening up his stomach for Bruce to target.

“You’ve got to learn to fight dirty, Dick,” Bruce said, trying to adopt the tone he often used to give corrections in training but falling closer to amused than anything. “A mugger on the street isn’t going to fight fair.”

“A mugger isn’t gonna tickle me, B!” He squealed as Bruce’s hands tried to sneak into his armpits, clamping his arms down tight as if it would do anything to keep Bruce out.

“Hmm, you never know.”

“B!”

Bruce’s own fond laughter was cut short as a small foot caught him in the jaw, sending him down to the floor. Dick really was improving, that kick packed way more punch than any ten year old should. That was definitely going to bruise.

“That’s what you get,” Dick said through his giggles. He sat up as they slowly petered out, eyeing Bruce’s prone form. “Uh, B? You good?”

Quick as lightning, Bruce shot a hand out to wrap around a tiny ankle. He shot Dick his best evil grin. “Not bad. But you’re going to regret that.”

Dick’s squeaky, childish laughter echoed throughout the Cave once more.

_____

Training with Jason was tricky. When he’d first brought Jason to the Manor, they could hardly share a room without Jason bristling. If he made any sudden movements or showed any signs of anger, Jason tensed and shied away as if preparing for a strike, even if he kept up his hissing and spitting and posturing all the while.

It made sparring quite the issue when preparing Jason to take up the Robin mantle. Initially, Bruce thought it might’ve helped if Dick were around more often – Jason always seemed less wary of him, whether it was the fact that they were closer in age or something else, Bruce had no idea – but these days their arguments were explosive and often had Dick not speaking to him for weeks at a time.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, Dick being present for training only added to the tension.

“You need to tuck your legs more for that flip.”

“I fucking know–”

“Language, Jason.”

“Yeah, Jason, language.”

“I’ll show you language–”

“Boys!”

The two snapped their mouths shut, glaring at Bruce, and he had to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Maybe Bruce should’ve thought through giving Jason the Robin mantle a little more carefully. Maybe it would’ve minimized the sniping by at least some amount.

“Perhaps we should switch to sparring, for now,” Bruce said. “Who wants to go first?”

Jason’s shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly. Unfortunately, due to Dick focusing more on his phone than training, Bruce was the only one to notice.

Dick scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t think so, you big fat cheater.”

Bruce shot Dick a look, but his eyes were still glued to his phone as he lounged across one of the benches. He forced himself to swallow his frustration. He promised Alfred that he’d try his best not to start a fight today – Alfred wanted a family dinner tonight, and Bruce couldn’t deny that the prospect sounded nice.

Bruce led Jason into a spar, both of them tight with tension. Dick split his attention between furiously texting – probably the Teen Titan’s group chat, if Bruce had to guess – and lazily watching their spar. Eventually they managed to settle into a sort of rhythm despite the tension thrumming through them, at least until Bruce brought attention to an open window in Jason’s defense. Of course, he would never hit his children, sparring or not, but instead of the usual controlled tap he would use on Jason, Bruce forgot himself for a moment and delivered a sneaky pinch to Jason’s side.

The squeal that echoed through the Cave’s training grounds got even Dick’s attention, his phone falling smack onto his nose as he fumbled it in surprise. Everyone froze, eyes wide. Jason blinked in Bruce’s direction for a moment before his cheeks flushed bright red, completely detracting from the scowl he twisted his face into.

“I’m not ticklish,” Jason stated, his voice as close to a growl as a pre-pubescent child could get.

It took all of Bruce’s Batman training to fight down his smile. “Of course not. No one said you were.”

Jason crossed his arms over his chest, shuffling his feet. “Good. Because I’m not.”

Dick leaned forward, almost rolling off the bench, a smug smile on his face. Bruce shot him a warning look, and the teasing expression melted into a pout. It seemed as though Bruce wasn’t the only one who got a lecture from Alfred.

“Bruce has always been a dirty cheat,” Dick said instead of whatever taunt he’d cut off.

Jason turned and blinked at him.

Dick raised his eyebrows. “He’s always been a massive tickle monster.”

“Hey,” Bruce said. “From what I remember, there was a rambunctious little boy who often asked for the tickle monster.”

Dick scowled at him, his own cheeks turning red to match Jason’s. “I did no such thing.” He turned to Jason and shrugged. “He used to do it all the time, he hated pretending to hit me so he always tickled me instead.” His eyes flickered to Bruce for a moment, a smirk growing on his face. “Good thing you’re not ticklish then, huh, Jay?”

“... Right.”

Bruce guided Jason back into the spar. This time, Jason was noticeably looser and more focused. His body still carried some amount of that wary tension, but he was no longer eyeing Bruce like he was a cornered animal. When Jason’s guard slipped again, leaving the same window open, Bruce didn’t hesitate in his attack.

“You need to watch your left,” he instructed, reaching out and squeezing at Jason’s side once more.

Jason let out another loud squeal, making Dick laugh and Bruce fail to shove down another smile. Jason tripped over his own feet as he tried to scramble away and landed on the mat. Bruce followed him down, careful to kneel next to him and leave plenty of openings for Jason to escape if he felt trapped. He wiggled his fingers against Jason’s sides, breaking into a grin at the giggles it produced.

“Bruce!”

Bruce chuckled. “Yes, Jaylad?”

Jason kicked his feet out and curled into a ball as best as he could, but he didn’t roll away from Bruce’s hands or shout at him to stop. Bruce allowed his hands to converge on Jason’s stomach as he uncurled with another kick, earning himself a bout of loud laughter that he’d never heard Jason make before. Jason struggled to thrust a hand out, reaching in Dick’s direction.

“Dick, help me!”

Behind him, Bruce heard the bench shift and the unconscious hums Dick would make when he stretched out his muscles. Then, there was a battle cry and the thudding sound of feet against the training mats.

“I’ll save you, Jay!”

Bruce braced as Dick launched onto his back – DIck definitely wasn’t twelve anymore, and Bruce worried that he’d be feeling that one in the morning – and locked his arms around Bruce’s neck. Jason got a brief reprieve as Bruce flipped Dick over his shoulder, both of them laughing all the while. Dick smacked into the mats next to Jason with a wheeze, and Bruce waited a moment for him to get a breath in before he attacked once more, a set of wiggling fingers for each son.

Dick’s thrashing was chaotic as ever as he cackled, Bruce deciding to be a bit mean and sneak his fingers directly into Dick’s underarm. Jason curled into a giggling little ball once more, jolting as Bruce gently pinched up and down his ribcage.

“B! You asshole!” Dick shrieked.

Bruce laughed. “You brought this on yourself, chum.”

Training with Jason went a lot smoother from then on, and Dick even started coming by more often again – even if it was just to see Jason and avoid Bruce. They never did manage to perfect that double-team attack to get their revenge on Bruce.

_____

Bruce didn’t think he’d ever escape the guilt he felt over how Tim’s training began. He didn’t think he deserved to either, especially when he would find Tim training on his own, working himself to the point of exhaustion or injury in order to achieve perfection. Now that Bruce was in his right mind and would end their joint training sessions at a more reasonable point, Tim would get frustrated with him and slink off to bury himself in cases instead.

When they sparred, there were no taunting remarks, no dirty tactics designed to draw a laugh out of the Batman, no playfulness as they both began to tire out and call an unofficial end to training. Tim took it all so seriously, and it was all Bruce’s fault. He did this to the boy, and now he had to fix it. He couldn’t rely on Dick to fix all the issues his “emotional constipation” caused, no matter how appealing the idea seemed.

Unfortunately, Bruce was not good with words, and it’s not like Tim would have been likely to listen to them anyways. Fortunately, he has another idea – it’s what made Jason eventually relax in regards to training, at least. Not that Tim was Jason. He was getting better at not making those comparisons anymore.

Though it was a bit hypocritical for him to condemn, Tim had arrived at training that day already noticeably overworked. His moves were sloppy (though sloppy for a Bat was not the same as sloppy for anyone else) and he was clearly frustrated with own mistakes and shortcomings. Tim was good at keeping a lid on his temper, but Bruce could see the tension in his jaw, the furrow in his brow, the tightness in his lips. They had only been training for a fraction of their normal time before Bruce decided to put his plan into motion, unwilling to let Tim drive himself any further into the ground.

Bruce lunged forward, ducking under a sloppy block, and managed to tackle Tim to the mat, taking extra care to protect Tim’s head and neck. Tim grunted as they hit the mat, but immediately set to squirming away instead of tapping out just as Bruce predicted. Instead of grappling him and letting him get in some practice with breaking holds, Bruce levered himself up and immediately set to vibrating his fingers into Tim’s ribs. Tim yelped and and his squirming increased tenfold, his eyes going wide and shocked.

“Bruce! What are you doing?”

Bruce’s lips quirked up. “Your block was sloppy. I’m just showing you where you need to defend.” Bruce let one hand wriggle into his armpit while the other scurried down to his stomach.

“What are you– Why– What is– Bruce!” Tim’s voice went all high-pitched and warbly as he smacked uselessly at Bruce’s hands, clearly unsure how to even defend himself.

Bruce chuckled, even as his heart ached at Tim’s confusion with affection as simple as tickling. “A little laughter never hurt anyone, Tim. No reason why training needs to hurt.”

Before he could respond, Bruce’s hands jumped up to flutter around his neck and ears, just to see him scrunch up. And scrunch up Tim did, his shoulders jumping up as high as they could while Tim scrabbled for Bruce’s wrists and shook his head in an attempt to dislodge the fingers. Finally, the dam broke and Tim burst into boyish giggles, finally looking and sounding his age for the first time since he showed up and insisted that Batman needed a Robin.

And Tim had been right, Batman had needed a Robin. But it looked like maybe Tim needed a new family. Bruce made a mental note to look into the Drake’s parenting while keeping Tim in his newfound state of giggles. Hopefully after this they could convince Tim to take a nap. And if not, well, Dick had been dying for a movie night. If anyone could get Tim to take a break, it would be him.

_____

Bruce hadn’t overseen the start of Damian’s Robin training. Instead, that responsibility had fallen to Dick, though he had been wracked with grief and presumed Bruce dead at the time. Now that Bruce was back and prepared to take on the burden of Batman once again, he could see Dick’s teachings in almost every move Damian made, melding carefully with his training from the League of Assassins. But even still, he tackled his training with a single-minded determination that could put Tim or even Bruce himself to shame – that was one thing that had not changed while Bruce was lost in the timestream.

Sometimes, it seemed like one of the only things.

Still, that didn’t mean Bruce was prepared to let Damian overwork himself. He clearly had some hangups from his life in the League, and it didn’t seem as though anyone had worked it through his head that overtraining would only harm him in the long run. Up until now, during their spars, Bruce had used the same gentle taps that he’d used to train all his boys. When the next opening in Damian’s defenses came, Bruce didn’t stop to think about his actions, so used to the years of training with his other sons. He pinched gently at Damian’s exposed ribs, both to bring attention to his weak defense and to start the process of winding training down.

Damian made a startled, choked-off noise and went tense for a brief moment, but he recovered well, swiftly disengaging from Bruce’s attack. He eyed Bruce from the other end of the mat, still balanced on his toes and ready to fight despite the sweat dripping down his brow and the exhaustion Bruce could see pulling at his limbs.

“I expect this sort of behavior from someone as frivolous as Grayson,” Damian said. “But you, Father?”

Bruce allowed the corner of his mouth to tick up. “Who do you think taught it to him?”

“Tt.” Damian sneered. “As I’ve told Grayson numerous times – games such as these have no business on the training mats.” He sniffed. “Plus, I am not a child.”

Bruce stared Damian down, in all his four-and-a-half foot, ten-year-old glory. “Of course not.”

“So we may continue training without any more of this nonsense?”

Bruce allowed a full, broad smirk to cross his face. “If you don’t want to get tickled, don’t get caught.”

Damian’s eyes went wide, and for a moment he truly looked like the young and innocent boy he should have been, but they just as swiftly narrowed in determination as he lowered himself back into a fighting stance. Even as tired as he was, Damian was able to hold his own very well – clearly a skill born of necessity. Hopefully they could convince him to pace himself eventually.

But as skilled as he was, Damian was still just a child. Eventually, he slipped up and Bruce was able to slip under his defenses. A few pokes, prods, and pinches later, Damian was on the ground, red-faced as he tried not to laugh under Bruce’s tickling fingers.

“You know,” Bruce said. “I’m told it’s much better if you just let it out.”

Damian shook his head with a jerk, trying valiantly to escape Bruce’s clutches. Unfortunately for him, Bruce was well-versed in the pinning and tickling of trained child vigilantes. Damian finally broke, kicking out with a childish shriek, when Bruce started pinching the muscles just above his knees. If it were Dick or even Tim, Bruce might’ve started teasing to get into his head and make it tickle that much more. As it was, Bruce thought Damian might bite his head off if he tried. Instead he just grinned wide, chuckling along with Damian’s surprisingly shrill laughter, and kept his cooing about how adorable his son was in his own mind.

Bruce’s attack didn’t last long. He didn’t want to push Damian too far with how exhausted he already was. Not to mention, their relationship was tentative and hesitant enough already, with Damian trying to figure out how he fit with Bruce now after the relationship he had built with Dick. Bruce only kept Damian laughing for a few minutes before releasing him and giving his hair a suitable ruffle, much to Damian’s disdain.

Maybe they’d be able to figure this out after all

_____

It was rare these days for Bruce’s sons to all be in the Manor at the same time. Rarer still for them to have gathered together on the training mats, what with how many fratricide attempts had passed between the four of them. Bruce had been planning on doing some solo exercise before patrol, but now he found himself on edge as he cautiously approached the Cave’s training area.

Bruce set aside the tape he had grabbed for his knuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Boys.”

“Hey, B!” Dick chirped, grinning from where he hung upside down on one of the pullup bars. “Getting some training in?”

He raised an eyebrow, scanning over the four of them for injuries. “I was intending to.”

Jason scoffed from where he was stretching out on the training mats. He was in nothing but a t-shirt and sweats, the most dressed down Bruce had seen him since he’d come back to them. He wore his leather jacket like a shield these days, especially on the rare occasions he visited the Manor.

“Don’t let us stop you, old man.”

Bruce hummed, turning his gaze to his two youngest. “Tim. Damian.”

“Hi, Bruce.”

“Father.”

Dick flipped off the pushup bar with a flourish. “Up for a spar, Bruce? It’s been a while.”

Bruce scanned over the four boys again, eyes narrowing. “Did you break something?”

They blinked at him.

Dick frowned. “No– B, what?”

“Did someone crash the Batmobile?”

Tim cocked his head. “No?”

“Did–”

“Jesus Christ, B,” Jason groaned. “Is it so hard to believe we can get along for one hour?”

Bruce didn’t answer. Tim snorted.

“Fair.”

“Tt.”

Bruce looked them over for any hidden injuries one last time before he relented, turning back to Dick. “As long as your brothers don’t mind us taking up the space.”

Bruce’s sons vacated the mats, leaving just him and Dick behind. As usual, Dick was a skilled opponent. They hadn’t had much chance to spar recently, the only chance Bruce had to see him fight being out in the field, and he had certainly improved. He’d been doing this almost as long as Bruce after all, it only made sense that he’d be a formidable opponent.

Eventually, Bruce went in for a grapple. Dick was shorter than he was, and his build much smaller due to his background in acrobatics. It was good for him to practice escaping the grip of someone larger and stronger than he was. Only, Dick’s returning grapple was much sloppier than Bruce remembered it being. He frowned, easily tackling Dick down to the mats.

Like second nature, Bruce’s fingers immediately tickled near one of the openings Dick had left in his defenses. He got little more than a squeaky yelp out of Dick before he was tackled from behind with a roar. It was a move that Jason and Dick had used often in training to mess with him, back when Jason was Robin. Back then, it wound up with both boys on the mats being tickled to pieces. Unfortunately for Bruce, Jason was now much larger and had the benefits of League training making his steps far quieter. Bruce rolled with the attack with a grunt, trying not to crush Dick under their combined weight, and started grappling with Jason instead.

“Getting rusty with age, old man?”

Bruce scoffed, trying not to smile lest he scare Jason off. He couldn’t help but feel like this was progress between the two of them. “Not likely.”

Jason was almost as large as Bruce now and matched him well in strength too, but in the end, Bruce’s experience won out. Just as he started gaining the upper hand, however, Dick launched on top of the both of them. Then Tim. Then Damian. Somewhere along the way, Jason had managed to slip out from under him, adding himself to the top of the pile. Bruce collapsed down to the training mats, pinned under their collective weight.

“That was kind of a sloppy block, Bruce,” Tim said from where he was perched on one of Bruce’s legs.

“Yeah, B, come on,” Dick said. “A mugger isn’t gonna fight fair, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at his children. “Boys–”

Jason clucked his tongue. “And no one to save the big, bad Batman.”

Bruce knew where this was going. He probably should’ve expected it honestly, after all those years of tickling his kids to the ground. It certainly wasn’t the first time any of them had sought revenge either, simply the first time they had decided to work together as a group since Bruce was able to take them down easily on their own (or even in duos, he recalled Jason’s Robin days fondly). He was their father, of course he knew what tickle spots would have them cackling on the mats in seconds, tears in their eyes.

Unfortunately for them, though, Bruce had trained himself out of such reactions long ago – at least to an extent. He was well-versed in burying the sensation, blocking it out until it went away, and he could hold out for quite some time. Probably more than long enough for them to get bored. There was only one weak spot that he’d never been able to block out, but they would never–

Dick gave an evil grin from where he sat on one of Bruce’s arms, reaching out and fluttering fingers behind one of Bruce’s ears. On his other side, Jason chuckled under his breath and did the same.

–Damn it, they brought Alfred into it.

Bruce let out a strangled, high-pitched noise before clamping his lips shut. He shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the tormenting fingers, but his children were nothing if not tenacious.

“Come on, Bruce,” Dick goaded. “It’s so much better if you just let yourself laugh!”

“Yeah, B,” Tim said, his fingers resting on Bruce’s side, seemingly waiting for a signal. “A little laughter never hurt anyone, right?”

“Boys,” Bruce bit out, swallowing around the snickers trying to burst out of his throat. “Cut it out.”

“If you did not want to get tickled, Father, then you should not have gotten caught.”

He raised such little shits. His own revenge for this would be swift and ruthless. The boys didn’t stand a chance. But first, he had to free himself.

Bruce tried to twist his arms out from under Dick and Jason’s weight, the tickling not having weakened him yet thanks to him holding back his laughter. Jason scoffed and added another hand to his tickling against the side of Bruce’s neck, Dick quickly following suit. And unfortunately, with the fingers behind his ears already driving him insane, Bruce had little brainpower left to block out the sensation on his neck.

Bruce broke.

His laughter came out quick, sporadic, and embarrassingly high-pitched. He tried to jerk his head away from the tickling fingers, but with Dick and Jason on either side of him, it was impossible to escape. Not to mention, apparently his laughter was the signal his youngest were waiting for, as after a few moments they both dug into their own respective spots. Tim’s hands spidered and squiggled and dug in around his side and stomach, while Damian began squeezing the muscles just above his knee, tickling around and behind it. It took all of Bruce’s self control to not kick out and throw him off – Damian was still so small, Bruce didn’t want to accidentally hurt him.

His laughter turned loud and booming as his kids switched around their spots, tickling anywhere they could reach. It echoed throughout the training area and into the Cave proper, the bats screeching in discontent as the noise disturbed their slumber.

“Damn, old man, how did none of us know you were this ticklish?”

“There you go, B! Does that tickle? That’s what you get!”

“Sorry, Bruce, but you do kinda deserve this.”

Unsurprisingly, Damian did not add into the teasing. His tickling was vicious enough to make up for it – he clearly paid far too much attention to tactics whenever Bruce or Dick tickled him to the ground. Bruce was oddly proud.

To Bruce, it felt like years before the tickling finally tapered off, though in reality he knew it hadn’t been more than several minutes. His laughter had gone hoarse, his throat and vocal chords far more used to his fake Brucie laugh than anything this genuine for this long. There was sweat dripping down his face and neck, and his muscles ached – his upper body from trying to free himself from his eldest boys, and his legs from keeping himself tense enough that he wouldn’t kick out and injure his youngest two. And embarrassingly enough, tears had gathered in his eyes, though none had managed to fall free just yet. As his boys climbed off him, Bruce could do little more than lay there and gasp for air, pushing down any residual laughter as he tried to compose himself.

“I see the revenge was a success,” Alfred said from the edge of the training mats. There was a water bottle in his hand, chilled and dripping with condensation. Bruce reached for it gratefully.

“Traitor,” he murmured under his breath.

Alfred heard it anyway, based on the unimpressed eyebrow he raised at Bruce. “If I remember correctly, Master Bruce, Master Dick was not the only little boy who ran around asking to play Tickle Monster.”

Heat flooded Bruce’s face as his children burst into laughter around him. He chugged down the water he had been given to hide the fact that he had no retort for that. Still, there was no mistaking the fond smile on Alfred’s face.

After all, a father always knew what tickle spots would take down his kid in seconds.

#bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #tickletober 2024 #batman #.fic

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