#// sorry this took seven years /hj

[cardcut]

               °﹂♦﹁。   First day in a new high school all taken care of.  Not too bad, for a small town, she guessed, she could make it work.  Plus, there’s plenty more space in a house like this than their previous residence.

Of course, Harleen expected to return home after school to nothing but a note stuck on the fridge. Left some money under the toaster for you to get some dinner. You mind stopping for a new phone while you’re out? The one the prev family left behind isn’t working. Love you kiddo, see you tonight. Dad

Oh, great, the landline’s dead. Wonderful.

Harleen grabbed the money from its hiding spot, shoved it in her pocket, and went out to the nearest recognizable electronics store:  Radio Shack.  Bit of a walk, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

“Phone, phone, new phone...”  is mumbled under her breath as she wanders through the aisles, looking for maybe not the cheapest landline available, but definitely not an expensive one, either.  Oh look, an employee, perfect.

“Hey, hey, ‘scuse me?  Yeah.  I need to get a new phone, can I get, like, a recommendation or something?”

@alxnetxgether liked!

[frankie-the-undead]

Looking back at the origin of laughing jack is interesting because it makes me think.

Isaac would definitely be charming. He was able to get a blind lady to his home for tea, there had to have been some level of trust there, since she was older and blind-- which means she's an easier target. Probably called him a "nice young man" which makes me wish Isaac didn't turn out the way he did. Maybe she could have even become his mother figure. But then again, I just realized that she could've been the owner of the cat, which might've been one of the reasons he targeted her.

He mainly targets those who cannot fight back. Who are weaker than him and he can easily over power. (I don't know if I could say the woman is an example of this since he didn't necessarily target her.) I suppose this could mean he craves control, and gets that from targeting those he views as weaker or less than.

There's a possibility he targeted the boy because he saw himself in him. While he is a man with a heart full of rage, do remember he is still a victim of abuse as well. He did carve "unless worm" into the boy , which is what his mom used to call him.

Okay this one is just because I'm pissed off at people. But isaac is NOT a pedophile, which means LJ IS NOT A FUCKING PEDOPHILE. Trust me, I'm fucking sure it would have been written into the story if he was. He shows no romantic or sexual interest in children. If anything, he shows a level of disgust towards children. Calling them ugly and using them as a punching bag. Whenever people say LJ is a pedophile, it makes me wanna strangle them (that's an over exaggeration, I don't actually wanna strangle someone). Just because of how fucking disgusting that is. LJ is a monster, but he's not THAT kind of monster. His creator is a pedo- but he is not.

LJ's intelligence doesn't match up with Isaac's. He doesn't know what sex or murder is, not even kissing. As seen when he was in the box.

There is a possibility LJ is obsessive and/or possessive with people he's close to-- maybe out of fear of them leaving or getting hurt/taken away.

LJ and Isaac are not necessarily the same, they're very similar, but have enough differences to classify them as different people. Though LJ and Isaac still share probably about 100-74% of interests.

LJ and Isaac are fruity /hj

Literally everyone in the origin of Laughing Jack needs therapy

Isaac's mom took her anger out on Isaac- possibly because he was an easy target for her. She was a victim of abuse as well.

Isaac's father possibly never loved- or fell out of love with his "beloved" wife.

Isaac has difficulties in processing love/affection and doesn't know how to express his feelings properly (this is just a personal headcanon)

There's a very high possibility that LJ was quite literally the only thing that made him truly happy.

LJ is most likely as mentally mature as Isaac, so that they'd age and mature together. Much like a childhood best friend, perhaps.

Isaac is seven years older than LJ

LJ was meant to be what Isaac likes, I'm assuming. So he could have just been a tall , rainbow clown because that's what Isaac was interested in.

Isaac probably has anger issues,

Remember that I'm not a professional, nor am I the creator of these characters, so I'm definitely wrong with a lot of things

Sorry for the long ask

Mans just dissected the whole story-

[crows-murder]

What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Do you participate in any writing events or challenges throughout the year? If so, what do you like about them?

Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline?

What is the perfect environment for you to write in?

Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

If you could only write angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your life, which would it be?

Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

What is your most underrated fic?

What fic are you most proud of?

What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Who is the easiest/hardest character for you to write about? Why?

What’s your favorite minor character you’ve written?

What is the one fic that got away?

Have you cried while writing a fic?

If you had to remix one of your own fics, which would it be and how would you remix it?

Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future. (sorry for sending so many i really wanna know)

(no don’t worry it’s perfectly okay! i had fun answering all of them ��)

1. what was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

ah. okay, so the first fandom i wrote and published for was Voltron, though i will never give away what the pairing was. i was 14 and it was on Wattpad, the rest is forbidden knowledge

2.do you participate in any writing events or challenges throughout the year? if so, what do you like about them?

i recently participated in a few events and challenges, and honestly, they were a lot of fun! i’d have to say that what i like about them is that i get to get out of my comfort zone and push my limits. 

3. do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

well. uh, no. 

sometimes i do write whole fics in one sitting,  but usually it takes me a day or two, and i have more than one WIP doc open because my brain needs to switch fics when it gets bored, so to speak. i just need to jump around to avoid losing interest in a story

4. do you outline before you start writing? if so, how far do you stray from that outline?

if it’s a multi-chapter fic, then yes. if i don’t have a clear ending or goal, then the story can and will drag on and on and on lol. sometimes i’ll stray from my outline, since it’s not really a strict set of directions for me to follow, more of something to guide me. very often, my story won’t exactly resemble my outline.

5. what is the perfect environment for you to write in?

late at night with a steaming cup of tea or coffee, or just an energy drink, wrapped in my fuzzy blanket with instrumental music playing. 

7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

writing

/hj. idk i guess i’d have to say finding the right word when i forget it. or another super annoying thing is that sometimes i have the perfect word in french, and i need to find a good translation for it, but the english version of the word just doesn’t feel the same as the original. that’s very annoying lol.

10.  do you enjoy dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

dialogue. i tend to stray from the plot and i always struggle with exposition, but i absolutely love writing dialogue. 

11. if you could only write angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your life, which would it be?

angst. no questions. i need to hurt my characters because i love them.

12. is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

enemies to lovers. i don’t have any actual WIPs with that specific trope, but i do really want to write it one day lol.

13. is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

alpha/beta/omega. i fully support my writer friends who write it, but sadly i will never write it. it bothers me a little too much rip. i’d rather never write again than write it. 

16. what is your most underrated fic?

um. personally, i think that this fic from my urban fantasy AU was really not popular lol. i kinda see why, since its pure fluff and from an AU that is a personal indulgence lol

17. what fic are you most proud of?

okay this Jayroy fic from my bad things happen bingo is definitely one of the ones i’m very proud of. idk, i just like it? i can’t explain why i’m proud of it, but i am.

18. what is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

i decided to cheat a little and i’ll be using a line from a WIP instead. and the commentary’s gonna be written bc i can 

It was a mission report. Bruce had told him it was fine if he finished it tomorrow.

Tim could finish it tonight. (tim you absolute walnut SLEEP)

He was perfectly capable of doing what Bruce asked him. (not when you’re sleep deprived, idiot) He wasn’t Dick. he certainly wasn’t Jason. But he could still work diligently and without mistake. He could be better. (aw bby you dumb idiot child you dont need to be better)

Tim stared at the person standing in the hallway, eyes narrowed and mug in one hand. He knew for a fact that it took longer than twenty-seven hours of no sleep to start hallucinating. (I BANISH YOU TO SLEEP JAIL YOU UNRULY GREMLIN)

But that was the only reason Tim could fathom the Red Hood standing in the kitchen of Titans Tower at half-past three in the morning. (and that’s valid. i too would think i’d be hallucinating lmao)

Red Hood approached Tim slowly. “You have a lot of nerve wearing that uniform.” (jason please LET. THAT. GO.)

Tim glanced down at his rumpled gray shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. (i laughed writing this. i laughed a lot) 

He should be more alarmed that the Red Hood clearly knew he was Robin without the mask, but Tim was too tired and he was going to have to push that freak-out to the next day. (me doing homework at 4am like)

19. who is the easiest/hardest character for you to write about? why?

this time i’ll go with the type of characters. the easiest character for me to write is definitely the one character i relate to the most/ my comfort character because of course, i know them more than any other character and to some level understand their character. the hardest character to write is probably one i don’t really know or one who doesn’t have a lot of character development or there isn’t much info about them. i’ll still write them, but i’ll be making up a lot of stuff lol.

20. what’s your favorite minor character you’ve written?

hmm. i haven’t written many side characters, but i did love writing Dana Winters. she’s very cool and i like her a lot.

21. what is the one fic that got away?

it might just be me but im struggling a bit with what this could mean, so i’m going to assume it means that one fic that didn’t go where i expected it to (if that’s not what you meant, feel free to send me an ask correcting me lol)

so i’d have to say its the second part of this 2 chapter fic i wrote because a lot of people were asking for more cuddles in the first part. i was not expecting writing another fic specifically for fluff, but here we are.

22. have you cried while writing a fic?

definitely during that one major character death fic i wrote. i wrote the aftermath of the character’s death and i was crying while writing it lmao.

i was crying so much writing the ending for this

23. if you had to remix one of your own fics, which would it be and how would you remix it?

i wrote a sort of road trip birdflash au that i wouldn’t mind seeing as a remix

30. tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

i’m actually writing a longfic right now. i don’t even know where i got the idea from, but it’s basically a batfam no capes AU where they all practice magic instead and it’s set in 1927.

here’s the ask game! send me an ask! (or more than one, i don’t mind)

[littlelovelyspiderling]

Stab Deterrent

More of my own ideas...sorry :P I have to write them to get them out of my head.

Peter gets stabbed and requires the assistance of Dr. Cho and her cell regenerating device to heal. What follows makes Peter never want to get stabbed ever again.

word count: 4,050

............................................................................................................

Peter got hurt pretty often, what with being a superhero and all. High hospital bills and painful wounds were an occupational hazard that simply came with the job. But this evening—this injury—was different.

Tony had been dicing tomatoes in the kitchen when he got the ping from FRIDAY—an alert triggered by the vitals monitor in Peter’s suit. It was the kind of thing he’d come up with and installed but hoped would never be required. But Peter, being Peter, meant the utilization of the sensor far more often than to Stark’s liking.

“What did he do this time, FRIDAY?” Stark sighed, twirling the knife through the air. “Swallow a bomb? Pound seven Monster energy drinks in under a minute?”

“Peter Parker has been stabbed in the abdomen,” FRIDAY replied. “He’s losing blood fast and needs immediate medical attention.”

The knife dropped from Tony’s hand and clattered against the granite countertop, his playful attitude disintegrating in an instant. He was suited up in seconds, heart hammering in his ears, a line of sweat breaking along his brow. “W-where is he? How fast can I get to him?”

“Creating a flight path now.”

He was barely conscious when Stark arrived. He’d been gutted by some psycho, who was stuck to the wall in front of Peter beneath a large glob of webbing, the bloody dagger still gripped in his fist. Tony dropped to the asphalt and rushed to Spider-Man’s aid, lifting his head up with a hand under his chin. “Kid? Kid, are you okay? It’s Tony. Can you hear me?”

The eye lenses on his mask fluttered open sluggishly. It took a moment for his vision to focus on the terrified face in front of him. The world spun and his side ached. His voice came out weak and coarse, like he’d been gargling gravel. “Mis’r Stark…?” he murmured, whimpering quietly and gripping his wound tighter. From the ribcage down, Peter’s suit was soaked in blood.

“I got you,” Tony assured him, breathless with fear, sliding one arm under his knees and another around his back. “You’re gonna be fine, okay?”

Peter simply groaned in response. Once the kid was tucked safely against his chest, Stark blasted off the ground and soared above the skyline.

Tony had alerted Dr. Cho to prepare her tissue-building device for an emergency procedure. By the time Iron Man was standing outside of her office with the injured kid in tow, the machine was ready for him. The doctor and her team carted him away, and Stark was forced to wait in the lobby.

It was two hours before he got any news. Two hours of pacing, worrying, biting his nails. When the doors finally creaked open, Tony flew to his feet.

“Is everything okay? What happened? How is he?”

The young nurse smiled fondly upon the concerned billionaire, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Everything is fine, Mr. Stark. The boy was given a blood transfusion and fluids, and he is in the final stages of the tissue repairing operation. His insides are fully healed; all that’s left is the epidermis.”

Tony allowed himself to breathe for the first time in what felt like days. He laid a hand over his chest and bowed his head. “Oh, thank God. I thought…I was so afraid that…” He combed his fingers through his hair, puffing out his cheeks. “Thank you. All of you.”

“Of course,” the nurse said cheerfully. Then he wrinkled his nose. “Although, I have to tell you: we are having a bit of trouble completing these last layers of operation.”

Stark clenched his jaw. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“There’s no need to be alarmed,” the nurse insisted. “Peter is fine, I promise you. The only problem is that Mr. Parker is awake now, and we can’t seem to get him to stay still enough for the device to heal his skin correctly.”

Tony’s terror transformed into confusion. “What, is it hurting him or something?”

The nurse shrugged. “He won’t say. But the operation is supposed to be painless. A soft tingling sensation is the only thing patients have reported feeling.” He nodded at the door. “We were actually hoping you might come back here and help us try to keep him still.”

Tony blinked. Why wasn’t the kid cooperating? He was normally so eager to please, and he’d never been a problematic patient in the past. “Uh, sure,” he said eventually. “I’d definitely like to see him.”

The nurse smiled and led him down the hall. Two left turns later, and they were in the operating room.

Three people in blue scrubs occupied the small space. One was typing something into a desktop computer, the other was looking through a clipboard full of papers, and the third was messing with the short arm that hung above the table in the center. The table that Peter was laid out on, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and looking a little red in the face.

“Peter?” Tony called, hurrying to his side. The kid glanced up at him sharply, and he swore the red darkened a little.

“Oh, Mr. Stark!” he greeted him. He sat up slightly, clearing his throat. “Um, hi.”

“Hey,” he sighed back, patting his shoulder. “You gave us all a real scare there, kiddo. Probably shaved a few of my waning years off.” He gave his arm a small squeeze. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled shyly. “Sorry. It was a stupid mistake, I promise. Won’t let it happen again.” He lifted hjs gaze. “Thank you—you know, for helping. ”

Stark’s eyes wandered down to the kid’s torso, where the only remnant left of the stab wound was a small patch of bright pink flesh. It looked like someone had branded a perfect rectangle into his belly.

“The nurse said you’re not staying still for the last leg of the procedure,” Tony said, noticing the immediate shift in Peter’s expression. “You want to tell me what that’s about? He said this wasn’t supposed to hurt.”

Peter turned away from him and rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. “No, it’s not…not that,” he stammered. “It’s fine, Mr. Stark. I’ll, um, be still.”

“What is it, then?” he prodded. “You have to tell the doctor what’s going on, Pete. If it really does hurt, then—”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted, looking anywhere but him. “I just—I’ll come find you once I’m done, okay?”

Stark narrowed his eyes at the kid. Why was he being so dodgy about this? He was acting like he was guilty or embarrassed about something. “Yeah, no,” he finally said, crossing his arms against his chest. “I think I’ll stay until the procedure is finished, just to make sure this ‘nothing’ really is nothing.”

Dread washed over the kid’s face as Stark turned on his heels. “Doc?” he called. “Kid says he’ll stay still. If you’re ready, feel free to fire it up again.”

Dr. Cho eyed him skeptically but gave her coworker a nod. With a click, the machine hummed to life, and the young nurse pushed on Peter’s chest. Reluctantly, the kid laid back down, drumming his fingers on the table, chewing on his lip.

“Sequence beginning in three, two, one,” the operator counted off. After one, a small beam of light fired from the tip of the arm, and it began to trace over Peter’s wound.

For the first few seconds, Peter did as he was told—he lied there, unmoving, letting the device work its magic. No sweat. Stark started to wonder if Peter and the staff had banded together to pull some kind of weird prank on him. But then, as the beam passed over his torso a third time, the kid stiffened. His hands curled into fists against the bed and his feet began to twitch. Tony looked down at Peter’s face and saw that his eyes were scrunched shut and his lips were pursed together tautly.

“Peter?” Stark said. “Kid, is it hurting you?”

He shook his head briskly, his ears flushing pink. The kid’s eyes flew open suddenly and he slapped a hand over his mouth. A muffled whimpering sound slipped between his fingers as his twitching turned into squirms.  

“Doesn’t look very still to me,” Dr. Cho said dryly. She signaled for the nurse to shut it off, but Tony raised his hand.

“Wait,” he said, turning on the kid with a frown. “Peter, stop trying to act tough. We’re not turning it off until you tell us what’s going on.”

Peter threw his other hand over his bright pink face. “Ihi’m s-sohorry,” he whined, his voice much shriller than normal. “I’m—I cahan’t—ahaheehee!”

Stark narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to the squirmy teenager. “Wait,” he said bemusedly, spotting the wide smile peeking out between the kid’s fingers. “Are you…laughing?”

A few seconds later, Peter balled his hands into fists and dropped them against the table, his crumbling front finally giving way to a flood of giggles. “Crahahap!” he squealed, arching his spine, blushing as bright as a tomato. “Ihit—it r-reheheally—it tihihickles, eheehee!”

Staring down at the giggling superhero, Tony’s frown slowly melted into an amused and puzzled smile. “It tickles?” he repeated, glancing over at the doctor in search of an answer. Dr. Cho placed a hand on her hip.

“Huh. I’ve never heard that before.”

Peter covered his face again and scrunched up his toes, high-pitched laughter pouring from his lips. “Plehehease—oho gohod!” When he couldn’t bear it a second longer, he rolled on to his side and curled into a ball, desperate to relieve his tummy of the fiendish tickling sensation. The device operator quickly shut the beam off, leaving the kid panting and flushed, struggling to catch his breath.

“Well that was…surprising,” Stark chuckled. Of all the suspected causes Tony had thought responsible for the kid’s uncooperativeness, this certainly hadn’t been one of them. How funny, he thought. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked at poor, giggly Peter, who was hugging himself around the middle and panting. He was almost too damn cute for words.

“I’m sohorry…” Peter giggled breathlessly, his belly tingling against his fingers. “Just…gimme a sec…”  

“No one has ever told me it tickled them before,” Dr. Cho said curiously, joining Tony at Peter’s bedside. “At least, not to this extent. Is Mr. Parker known to be a particularly sensitive person?”

Tony shrugged, unable to wipe the endearing grin from his face. “I mean, no. Not to me, anyway.” He’d never attempted to tickle Peter before, and he’d certainly never witnessed anyone else try it either. It wasn’t exactly something that came up naturally between a mentor and their mentee working in a lab and beating up bad guys together. He made a note to amend that mistake soon after this—and from the uneasy anticipation he could read from the kid’s expression, he guessed Peter was aware of his plans.

Stark gave his shoulder a nudge, making Peter start a little.“What do you think? Would you consider yourself a super ticklish person, Peter? Like, compared to normal people?”

Peter sat up slowly with an arm still glued to his torso, the pink tint in his cheeks beginning to creep down into his neck. “Uh, heh, I don’t��I don’t think so.” He gave a nervous laugh—strained and quiet and very easy to distinguish from his authentic one—and scratched the back of his head. “But, um, you know what? It’s fine. I don’t need any more healing laser beam treatments. If it’s just that little bit of skin left, my body can take care of the rest of it, no problem.” Moving briskly, he scooted to the edge of the bed and swung his legs off the side. “So, uh, we good here?”

Dr. Cho stepped in front of him to stop him from hopping to the floor. “Hold on, Peter. Your wound is still in danger of hemorrhage and infection. I can’t release you until the procedure is fully complete.”

Peter looked to Stark with pleading eyes, like he expected the billionaire to rescue him from this hilarious predicament. Tony snorted. “You heard the doc,” he said, poking Peter just below his ribs. Peter jumped and squealed in the most cute and clumsy way, making Tony’s evil grin widen. “Wow. You are really ticklish, huh?”

“Stohop it!” Peter squeaked, betrayed. His anger was quickly drowned in laughter as Tony started to poke him all over, alternating between both hands, his index fingers tasering the kid’s bare sides, belly, and ribcage wherever they weren’t being guarded by his arms, throwing in the occasional squeeze or flutter when they seemed appropriate. Within seconds, he was curled back into a tiny ball, kicking and jerking and laughing hysterically, reduced to a helpless, giggling mess.

“This is ridiculous,” Stark laughed. “You’re a superhero. I’ve watched you fight off an army of alien monsters with ease. Now you’re telling me all it takes to defeat you is a few pokes to the tummy?”

Peter grappled with his mentor’s hands while flailing all over the table. “Mr. Stahark! Wahait! Ahahack! Nohoho!”

“All right, that’s enough,” Dr. Cho interceded, fighting back a smile. The rest of her team hid their endearment far less gracefully. “We need to complete the procedure as soon as possible. And Mr. Parker will have to be still for it.”

“At this rate, I think you ought to just knock him out,” Stark chuckled. Clambering to recompose himself, Peter sat back up again, skittish and pink.

“He’s been under for many hours now. I’d really prefer not to sedate him again, especially since the remainder of the operation should only take about five minutes.”

The doc had a point. Peter really didn’t need any more drugs in his system. Tony smiled at the flustered teenager with a mix of pity and delight. “Well, what do you say, kiddo? You think you can stay still for five more minutes so the doctors can finish fixing you up?”

Peter was clearly still recovering from Tony Stark’s poke attack, but he did his best to look unabashed. His eyes flickered between all the gazes trained on his half-naked, blushing self, and he hunched his shoulders up to his ears. “I…uh…w-well…” he stammered softly. Stark couldn’t stop himself from snorting.

“Perhaps we could restrain him?” the nurse from earlier suggested suddenly. “Just until the procedure is finished. That way, there’d be no risk of him moving and messing up the pattern.”

Tony watched Peter’s eyes bug out of his head. “W-what? Restrain me?”

“Good idea,” Dr. Cho said, rounding the table to stand behind Peter’s head. “We need to do this quick. Peter, lie back with your arms above your head.”

Again, Peter looked to Tony. As much as Stark would love to save the kid from this adorably embarrassing scenario, they really needed to get his wound fixed. He patted his arm.

“Let’s just get this over with. The faster we start, the faster it’s done.”

Peter groaned as Tony helped him lie down, his ears burning. “I hate thihis,” he whined, nervous giggles already punctuating his words.

Using heavy-duty clasps that Stark provided, the doctors began securing him to the table. Tony did his best to comfort the kid as they did. “I’ll stay with you until it’s over, okay?”

“Noho,” Peter snapped shyly. “You’re just gohonna make fun of me.”

Tony tried not to smile, but simply couldn’t help himself. “I promise I won’t. At least, not until after.”

Peter pouted and blushed as his ankles and wrists were shackled to the table. Using thick bands, they also tied his torso down so that he couldn’t buck his hips or arch his back and wind up disrupting the device’s precise cell mapping again. The feeling of complete immobility was not in any way to Peter’s liking.

Once he was secured, Cho gave the word to the operator. The man held his finger over the switch.

“Sequence beginning in three, two, one…”

A moment later, the beam clicked on, and the mechanical arm began to make passes over the kid’s wound. Tony laid his hand on Peter’s arm.

“You okay?” he asked carefully. Peter nodded with his eyes shut and his lips sucked against his teeth.

“Mmhmm, yeah. I’m fihine.” He puffed out his cheeks and scrunched up his nose. “Everything’s fine. Yep. Ihi’m great. Soho great. I can do thihis. I cahan doho this. Ihi cahahan—”

His eyes popped open suddenly and he tried to squirm. The futile attempt quickly reminded Peter of the fact that he couldn’t move an inch in any direction. He hadn’t been fully aware of just how well restrained he was until now, when the soft, feathery tickling sensation had reached an unbearable level of intensity, when it felt like six or seven hands were clawing delicately at his tummy, letting their nails glide against his skin with sadistically light and rhythmic movements. How did the machine imitate that feeling so perfectly, even though that wasn’t even something it was designed to do?

The tickling was too much for the helplessly sensitive teenager to take. But to his horror, he couldn’t move a muscle. He couldn’t make it stop.

“Shihihit!” Peter squealed, the floodgates bursting open. “Nohoho I cahan’t!” He clenched his fists and threw his head back, giggling wildly, uncontrollably. “Mr. Stahahark! Hehehelp!”

Tony laughed empathetically, moving his hand to the kid’s head and running his fingers through his curls. “You’re all right, giggle monster. Just let it out; it’ll be over soon.”

Not soon enough! he thought. The feeling was spreading across his entire torso like a plague, inflicting more and more of him with the maddening sensation. The feathery touches and scritchy-scratching nails were multiplying by the second. Peter whipped his head from side to side.

“Nohohahaha! Plehehease! I cahahan’t—I cahahahan’t!”

“This is intriguing,” Dr. Cho said, watching the poor hero twitch and shriek uselessly. “I’ve never seen the procedure affect someone so dramatically.”

Tony petted Peter’s hair, fighting back against his own bout of giggles. The kid’s laughter was adorably contagious. “I’ve certainly never seen him like this. Maybe your machine is malfunctioning.”

Dr. Cho stared at Peter’s wound, watching the device work its magic on the damaged cells. “Well, it’s doing its job. Just a few more minutes, and it’ll be done. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“IHIHI’M DYHIHIHING!” Peter cried. Tears welled in his eyes and hiccups jumped from his throat. He couldn’t believe how much it tickled—like someone was blowing fifty raspberries into his tummy at once. Although he’d never admit it, there had been times in his life where he’d actually enjoyed being tickled. Wrestling with Ben as a kid, affectionate pokes from May—sometimes it was the only way to cheer him up when he was in a really low spot. The people who knew him best knew this annoying well, and weren’t afraid to utilize it.

But this? Tied down and tickled to tears, laughing like an idiot in front his biggest idol? This was just downright evil. All he could do was lie there and take it, the endless bombardment of tickling sensations dancing across his skin, driving him up the wall. He wanted to thrash and twist and guard his poor belly from the beam’s cruel path, but the only thing he could do was twitch his toes and squirm in place and laugh helplessly.

“Just try to think about something else,” Mr. Stark suggested. “Like, uh…what are you working on in school? Got any cool upgrade ideas for your suit? How’s your aunt?”

Peter barely even registered that he was speaking. He really wished he could hide his face behind his hands right now. He knew he was all red cheeks and giant, dumb smiles. “PLEHEHEASE!” he begged, turning away from Mr. Stark as much as his restraints would allow. “NOHO MOHOHORE! NOHO MOHOHOHORE! AHAHAHAHA!”

Suddenly, the beam flickered off. In an instant, the tickling sensation shrunk back to a tiny tingle. “All done!” the operator said cheerfully. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Peter fell limp against the table, gasping for breath, dizzy with relief. He’d never laughed so long and hard in his entire life. Giggles still clung to his words. “Gah…aha…oho my…oho gohod…” He let his head loll to the side while Tony continued to card his fingers through his hair.

“That was probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Stark said matter-of-factly. “And I met an alpaca on Tuesday. A baby alpaca. Like, a real live baby alpaca. You know how tough that is to beat?”

“Shuhut up…” Peter groaned, smiling. Now that he wasn’t distracted by tickle-filled laser beams, he realized how nice it felt to have Tony petting his head. He didn’t do that kind of thing very often. It kinda made Peter feel like a puppy.

“All set,” Dr. Cho said, pressing lightly on the kid’s now fully-healed stomach. Her touch made Peter wince in surprise. “You’re good to go. Let’s get you out of these bonds.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Stark insisted. “You guys go on ahead. Grab yourselves a fancy lunch. My treat.”

The doctors all grinned at each other like kids in a candy store and hurried eagerly out of the lab with a wave of thank yous. Stark shook each of their hands as they left, then returned to Peter’s side once they were alone.

“Here we go,” he said, undoing the straps around the kid’s midsection. Their absence made it a lot easier to breathe.

“Thanks,” he said, sucking in a large gulp of air. “That was…horrible.”

“I encourage you to remember this experience the next time you decide to put yourself in a potentially stabby situation,” Stark said with a smirk. “Good deterrent I’d say, yeah?”

Yes, very much so, Peter thought. But he wouldn’t give Mr. Stark the satisfaction; he’d already had plenty. He knew his mentor was never going to let him live this day down.

“It is crazy how well that thing works,” Tony said nonchalantly. Then he reached out and poked the spot where Peter had been stabbed, making him jolt.

“H-hey!” he yelped. The straps were gone, but Peter’s ankles and wrists were still shackled to the table, so he was still very trapped and vulnerable.

Stark swirled his finger against the spot, smiling at the kid’s squeaky, hysterical response.“I mean, it looks like it was never even there, doesn’t it?”

“Dohon’t! Mr. Stark, dohon’t!” Peter had almost forgotten what it felt like to have an actual hand tickling him instead of a weird beam. Oddly enough, the hand seemed more effective at eliciting a quicker, wilder response. “Come ohon! Lehet me goho!”

“What? I’m just admiring how remarkable Dr. Cho’s invention is at doing its job,” Tony said innocently. “I can’t even tell where your wound was anymore. Do you remember? Was it…here?”

He tasered his side suddenly, making Peter leap.

“Or…here?”

He poked just below his bellybutton. Peter was in pieces.

“Mihister Stahahark!”

“Or maybe it was here.”

He made a claw with his hand and shook it against Peter’s entire tummy. Peter was a writhing, squealing puddle.

“Stohopstopstohohahahap!”

“I know!” Tony exclaimed. “I bet the new skin feels different from your old skin. More synthetic, maybe? Let’s see…”

Using both hands now, Stark started pinching and squeezing all over his sides, his ribcage, his belly, his hips, everywhere. His evil thumbs dug in deep and wiggled mercilessly into Peter’s skin, honing in on the spots that elicited the most reaction. Peter bucked and shrieked, but he couldn’t get away.

Tony let up quickly after that, recognizing when the kid had really had enough. He just couldn’t help himself—he loved hearing the kid laugh, seeing him look so happy, especially after almost losing him today. He was glad to have this knowledge in his back pocket, in case Peter was ever in a particularly bad or stubborn mood in the future.

“Are you good?” Stark chuckled, helping the giggly teen to his feet. He stuffed the clasps in his pocket then ruffled his hair.

“Yohou’re evil,” he said, hugging his aching sides. “You’re gohonna pay for this.”

“Are you threatening me right now?” Stark scoffed, tweaking the kid’s ribs, making him fold into himself and squeal. “Bad idea. Especially now.”

Needless to say, Stark did not end up paying for it.