#Michael tickled

[mikkeneko]

PSA to fan creators who don't have a lot of regular contact with children: They are almost always bigger than you think. A 1-year-old baby may already be walking. A toddler is likely already hip-high. A 10-year-old may already be taller than at least one of their parents. A 14/15 year old may already have reached their adult height.

[feathergail]

[ mike schmidt - five nights at freddy’s (movie) ]

i’m so sorry.

[comfytickles]

Tickletober // DAY 8: TRUTH!

With my OCs Loretta and Michael!

Click for better quality!

"You have to be honest... for science of course."

For context, Loretta is able to see where exactly people are ticklish hence why Michael is drawn like a diagram.

Also hi guys I'm doing tickletober (probably only a few days lmaoo)

[chalterdh22]

Helping an Old Friend - Squealing-Santa 2024

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!!!

Fandom: X-Men Prequel Films

Lee:  Charles Xavier

Ler: Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings:  None!  All fluff!

Normally Charles was the glass is half full professor.  He usually saw the better of people and circumstances.  Erik, on the other hand, was the complete opposite, which is why they balance each other out so well.  It had been years past since Charles’ accident.  So, it wasn’t anything new, but today was a rough day.

“Charles, I swear, I wish there were times I could mind read like you do, to know what exactly is going on in that head of yours.”  Erik said, sitting on a chair in the mansion, and Charles was trying to move himself from the wheelchair to the couch.  “Why are you trying to get yourself to the couch anyway?  There are plenty of other seats around.  Why pick the hardest one to move to?”  Erik was now all but yelling at the professor, who was sweating on how hard he was trying to get over to the couch.

“Erik, I know I don’t say this enough, but please, shut up old friend!”  Charles said under his breath, not looking up.

Erik now stood up and kneeled next to his friend, who now just had his head in his hands, seemingly taking a break.  “Here,” Erik said softly, trying to help his friend over, only to get swatted away by Charles’ hand. 

“Please, do not touch me.”  Charles was looking straight in Erik’s eyes, piercing right through him.  For some reason, this made Erik smile and puff out a laugh.

“Charles, are you really so stubborn as to not accept help from me?” Erik asked, as he now sat on the couch that Charles was trying to get to.  “What would be the point?”

“It’s nothing, nevermind.”  Charles voice seemed to dry up a little. 

“Come on, tell me what’s going on?”

“No, I’ll pass for now, but thanks.”  Charles responded.

“Charles, tell me, or I’ll have to……”  he stopped mid-sentence and realized Charles was paying no attention to him whatso ever.  He was completely deep in thought, so Erik, stoop up slowly, reached for his bag and put his helmet on, so Charles couldn’t read his mind.

When he sat back down, Erik had a huge grin on his face.  It wasn’t often he got to best the professor, mostly because of the mind control.  But he had watched Charles once getting a massage and the masseuse made him giggle and squirm.  He never knew Charles to be ticklish, but he was.  Erik didn’t think Charles would even remember such a miniscule detail, but Erik did.

After Erik hadn’t moved or said anything in a few seconds, Charles caught wind of not being able to penetrate his friend’s thoughts, and his head shot up quickly to see Erik wearing his beloved helmet.

“Erik, why do you have that on, may I ask?”  Charles asked nervously.

“No reason, but I do have a few questions for you?”  Erik said softly, putting his hand gently on Charles shoulder, which he shrugged off immediately.

“I told you; I don’t want to discuss anything.  Please just let me be.”

“No, because you never let me have those moments, and I want to know what’s bothering you.” 

Charles was now sitting straight up, shaking his head no.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to take drastic measures.”  This made Charles laugh and smile.  He had never gotten tickled by Erik, so he had no idea that’s what he was planning to do.

“Really? Well, let’s see what the mighty Magneto can do.”  Charles said smugly, crossing his arms, facing towards Erik now.  And since Charles couldn’t move quickly, Erik knew he could get him to talk.

Erik, shrugged his shoulder and reached one hand and pinched Charles side on his lower rib case, making him gasp and swat his hand.

“Wh-what are you doing?  Have you gone mad?”

“No, actually.  I’m thinking quite clearly.”  He reached out and pinched the other side and received the same reaction.  “If you won’t tell me what’s bothering you, I’ll make you talk!”

Charles tried to push his arms on the couch to scoot himself away in his wheelchair, but Erik used his powers and locked the wheels.  “Now where do you think you are going?  We are just getting started.”

“Erik, don’t.”  Charles said sternly, not smiling the least bit.  Erik knew he had touched a nerve.    He moved over on the couch closer and moved the wheelchair that had his helpless friend in it, so it was facing him directly.

Using his powers again, he moved the belt buckles on the wheelchair and tied them around Charles’ wrists, tying them to the arms of the wheelchair.  “Now this is better.”  Erik said softly, with still a smile on his face.  He reached both hands out to his lower ribs and gently squeezed them up and down, moving his fingers in between each trapped rib.

“Naaaa, Noooo Errrriikkkk!  Sttttoooo-ooopppp!”

“Tell me what’s bothering you and I will”, although Erik secretly hoped he would hold out a little longer, because this was too much fun for him!

Erik pulled his hands back for just a second, and then shot them up into his armpits, earning a huge gasp and squeal, not one he had ever heard from his friend before.  He again pulled his hands back out.  “I think I found a nice, tender spot; wouldn’t you say?”

Charles was shaking his head frantically, pulling hard with his arms, trying to protect himself.

“I think we’ll go back there.”  And this time he moved at a turtle’s speed, reached slowly towards the professors under arms again, which now had a small, sweat stain peering through his nice, button-down shirt.

Still shaking his head, and gathering his breath, he was stammering, “Not, th-there, pl-please.”

Erik still moving at the same speed had Charles laughing already, and he was even being tickled yet.  “No, no, not until you tell me.”  Charles just kept shaking his head no, cheeks flushed and sweat glistening his face.

Erik then moved quickly back to his under arms and massaged them like before, sending the professor almost shooting straight out of his wheelchair if he could.  Erik’s mouth grinning, slightly opened was softly squishing and digging into the sweaty flesh, sending Charles into hysterics, throwing his head back and forth, pushing his upper body as much as he could to get away.

Charles was gasping and not laughing aloud anymore, so he pulled back, crossed his legs, and gave him a few seconds to breath.  “Well, what will it be?  Answering a simple question to a friend who only wants to help you, or continue to be stubborn and allow me to find other sweet spots?”

Charles starting to catch his breath, still shaking his head no, with a huge smile splattered across his face, “No, please, hold on, just hold on for a minute.”  As he said this, Erik reached out and tickled behind his ear, making him turn his head quickly to out maneuver it.  “Ok, ok.  Damn, Erik, you are relentless.  I’ll tell you, and then please stop!”

“Deal.”

Charles took a few more breaths, leaned back in his wheelchair, feeling a bit safer. 

“I was trying to get to the couch because some students were sitting there, showing each other some photos, and wanted me to see them.”  He paused; the seriousness started coming back to his face.  “I believe it was out of habit, the on student tapped the seat on the couch next to him, as to say sit here and I’ll show you.  I know he didn’t mean anything by it and immediately felt embarrassed by his action, which made me feel worse.”

He paused again, looking at Erik, who was looking back at his helpless friend.  “I don’t want people to feel embarrassed around me, or feel they have to do anything special to accommodate me.”

“Isn’t that what we all do here, accommodate to each person’s unique abilities?  Why are you so different?”

“I’m not.”  He paused to think about that.  “I do understand what you’re saying though.”  Erik just nodded his head. 

“Do you feel a little better?”  Erik was standing in front of Charles now, looking down.

“Yes, but please, do me a favor?”

Erik started to walk away and turned his head.  “And what’s that?”

“Don’t ever do that to me again.”  Erik huffed a laughed and then realized he might never be able to take his helmet off again.  Oh well.  It was worth it.

The end.

@squealing-santa

@tickly-tufts!

[lunarisntlee]

Have some art I drew cuz I was bored

[fluffyficsanddreams]

Still My Little Boy

Summary: Teenaged Michael thinks he's too cool for something as "childish as tickling"... William thinks that is an absolutely heinous crime, and eventually, a certain little brother decides to join in.

This was requested by anon, so whoever you are, I hope you enjoy this!!

It was about 7:30 in the evening at the Afton household when a loud slam was heard throughout the house. That was the front door, slammed by William's oldest son who had just returned from a hangout with his friends. Michael groaned, rubbing his eyes as he walked into the living room. Unbeknownst to his family, he had just fought with his buddies—and it wasn't just that usual argument you have over ice cream flavors or music taste. After that fight, he wasn't sure he'd talk to his friends again.

Michael jumped as he saw his father walk into the room, a confused expression on his face, alerted by the door slam. "Michael? You said you'd be back at 9, it's only 7. Did something happen?" William asked, taking off his rubber gloves that he used while he worked downstairs on whatever new mechanic parts. Michael swallowed, not wanting to tell his father about what had just went down between him an his friends—why should he? That was his business, after all—but William couldn't help feeling concerned at the anxious expression on Michael's face. Walking toward his son, William placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Mike, what's wrong? You can trust me, alright?" He asked again, but Michael stayed silent, not making eye contact with his father. He was born stubborn, and once he was set on not doing something, he absolutely refused to do that thing—and William knew that. Although... his father was aware of one time-tested method to get things out of his son...

William chuckled and took Michael into his signature dad-hug, and his son exhaled, letting himself relax a little in his father's embrace. "Mike, I can tell when you're upset. I promise, you can tell me anything." William murmured, rubbing his son's back with a comforting hand. Michael, being his stubborn self, still refused to open his mouth.

"Michaael... you know what happens when you don't tell me somethiiiing." William cooed, to which Michael tilted his head to look up at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?" He asked, and his father actually chuckled. "Don't tell me you forgot about the ol' tickle monster, didja?" William asked, a smirk on his face. Michael groaned and rolled his eyes, shoving at his father's hands. "Daaad, you know I'm too old for that dumb stuff." His son sighed, to which William placed a hand on his chest and gasped in mock surprise. "Whatever on Earth are you talking about? You're never too old for that 'dumb stuff', since you'll always be my baby boy." William replied dramatically, and he began to poke and prod at Michael's sides. The teen started to squirm in his father's arms, tiny half-stifled snickers escaping him.

"Hmmm... I thought you were too old for your dad's tickles, you shouldn't be affected!" William teased, scribbling 8 fingers over Michael's lower sides. "Pfftdahahahad! Nahahahaha!" His son broke into a fit of laughter, writhing in his father's grasp. William had to hold on a little more than he'd used to, as Mike had naturally grown stronger with age—but that, of course, didn't stop him. "Dahahahahad! St-stohohop!" The teen protested, feeling his legs giving way as the tickling weakened him, resorting to holding himself up by leaning against William which eventually led to the two basically melting to the floor. "I'm not stopping until you tell me what's wrong!"

Now laying on the floor, Michael kicked out his feet as William continued his tickle-monster attack, poking at his son's stomach rapidly with a couple fingers, causing Mike to snort between laughs—one of his signature things, his family could recognize Michael's snorts from a mile away.

Due to this, Michael's younger brother walked into the room having heard all the noise. Evan looked astonished at what was unfolding on the floor, as he'd never seen his tough, brash older brother laughing so hard. He giggled, approaching the scene. "Papa, what's going on?" Evan asked, a wide, amused smile on his face. William looked up at his second son with a smirk as he continued to tickle his oldest to bits. "Well, he may not have ever told you, but your brother here is ridiculously ticklish."

"AHAHaham noHOHot!" Michael shouted in protest, cut off by his own cackle as William vibrated his fingers into his stomach. Evan giggled, walking toward his brother and sitting next to him on the floor.

“You know, Mikey, I think I should get you back for all those times you tickled me,” He spoke, to which his older brother shot his eyes open at him and tried to glare at him before squeezing them shut again in his laughter. “Dahahohohon’t you DAHAHARE!” Michael threatened, Evan not at all intending to listen to him and sitting up by his head, shoving his hands into his brother’s underarms, earning a screech and newfound cackles.

William winked at his second son with a chuckle. “You see, bud, what you wanna do is scribble all your fingers at the same time, like this.” Their father suggested, showing Evan what he was talking about by scribbling 8 fingers between Michael’s ribs, causing the teen to arch his spine as far as it could go before crashing back down again. Evan nodded eagerly, a bright smile on his face as he imitated what William had just shown him in his older brother’s armpits, not expecting the loud shrieking that came out of Michael’s mouth. He was almost alarmed, but he shrugged it off when he saw how brightly his brother was smiling and laughing. It was a rare sight, but Evan and William both wished that they could see it more.

“Okay, Evan, do you want to see something cool?”

“Yeah!”

Michael’s eyes shot open once again as he immediately realized what his father was referring to. “Nonononono! Don’t, please don’t!” He begged, nervous giggling pouring past his lips already. William pretended to think about for a moment, holding a hand to his chin.

“Hmm… let’s see… no!” His father replied mischievously before pulling Michael’s shirt up, and taking a deep breath…

“PBBPHBPPBBT!”

“YAAAHAHAHAHA!”

Michael actually screamed before letting out the loudest cackles Evan had ever heard. William’s signature thing was raspberries, of course! Evan knew that from his own experiences. Now Michael was practically a red-faced, cackling, snorting puddle.

“OKAY! OHOHOHOKAHAY! I GIHIVE UP! I’LL TEHEHELL YOU!” The teen finally screeched, and William lifted his hands from his son’s body and let Michael out from underneath his grip. Evan giggled as he watched his older brother gasping for breath, his face flushed red and sweat beaded on his forehead. “Mikey, we should do that more.” Evan smiled, to which Mike shot a glare at him and growled, “Shut it.” He was trying to be intimidating, but the wobbly smile that split his face gave him away completely.

“Hey, be nice to your brother. Now, tell me what was wrong.” William prompted, placing a hand on his oldest’s shoulder. Michael exhaled, having regained most of his composure, and recounted some of the fight he’d had to his father.

“I’m sorry, bud. But hey, friends come and go. Just know that I’ll always be here for ya, alright? Your old man loves you.” William told him, taking him into a gentle hug. Michael exhaled in his embrace, wrapping his own arms around his dad. The teen felt his younger brother hug him from behind, and a small smile crossed his face.

He wouldn’t trade these moments for the world.

[bluismie]

a Shrine AU idea I had when I was doodling yesterday

[gamequeenanya]

You and your FNAF boyfriend (Security Guards!)

Doing one of these character things because they're fun! :3

Prompt: You discover he's ticklish.

Mike / Michael Afton:

Mike was just showing you how well he could shoot hoops in basketball. You run over to high-five him, and pull him into a hug. Unfortunately for him, your fingers decide to feel along the fabric of his jersey. You think it's a nice material.

You did not expect to hear him flinch and giggle.

Uh oh.

Mike blushes and goes to explain it away, but it's too late. You figured it out.

Tickle time! :D Michael bursts into laughter and flails as you tickle him everywhere!

Luckily it's a private session.

Michael's worst spots are his sides, hips, and ears. (Yes, just gently brush your fingers along them.)

Most ticklish to pokes.

Will take revenge immediately! This man will not have mercy until you beg and apologize!

Cuddles afterwards. With hot tea. :)

Jeremy:

It's actually he that tickles you first.

Did it to get your attention.

You squeal and give him a 'don't do that again!' look. Even though you secretly want him to do it again…

The next time you see him, it's revenge time! You sneak up behind him and pull him into a hold, tickling his ribs by tapping them rhythmically.

But wait, dear reader! Canon Jeremy is brave, and likes a challenge! Get ready for your doom! :D

Jeremy squirms, defiantly fighting your grasp until he gets loose. Then he pulls you into his arms and tickles you, giving you the same opportunity to get away.

You do, and then you look up at him knowingly. The two of you would have many tickle fights in the coming weeks!

Worst spots are his ribs, armpits, and face (Brush his nose or his cheeks with a feather)

Feathers or feather-light touches get him best.

Will want a movie afterwards and shares hot apple cider.

Fritz:

Yes, Fritz is his own person! Huzzah! :D

Fritz is surprisingly shy. The first time you tickled him, you did it to tease. He blushed and squirmed away immediately.

We'll say he's generous. Generous with sharing his food, and generous with tickles! If you tell him, you want a tickle fight, he will gladly give you what you ask for!

Laughs easily, and rather ticklish. But always afraid he'll hurt you… This is why he tends to lose tickle fights. Poor Fritz!

Whether you are dating him, or are just friends, he will always tickle you in the ways you prefer. :) Gentleman!

Worst spots are his armpits, tummy, and legs. Feet are also a big contender!

Equally sensitive to whatever tickle tool you want to use. Go crazy!

Soft cuddles afterwards, which usually ends in the two of you falling asleep.

William:

Are you sure you want this man to tickle you…? Really sure…?

Okay then… but be warned. This man is merciless.

It's probably safest to just let him tickle you first. He does end up tickling all of his employees eventually - controversial as that may be…

He will usually sneak up behind someone and playfully pinch their hips, reminding them to smile in a sultry tone.

After hearing your laugh, he wants more. And strange though it is, you end up wanting more too.

Tickle the Weem! :D Ahem. I mean William. Heh.

Wait, that's right! Nicknames. Be playful, and he may be more likely to tickle you.

Anyways, as I was saying: tickle him back! He lets out a low chuckle, not wanting to embarrass himself. But if you continue, you'll end up hearing high pitched squeals, and begging for mercy!

Whatever you do, don't interrogate him while tickling! He'll see it as a betrayal. It's a grave mistake (literally).

But seriously. Screams like a little girl. Have mercy on him! (Or don't. :3)

Worst spots: feet, back, scalp.

Most ticklish to: paintbrushes.

Aftercare? Nah. He's too embarrassed and just wants to recover in his office alone!

Phone Guy / Scott:

My sweet baby boy angel! <3333333333333333 Protect this man's smile 2kforever.

You know what they say: The more anxious someone is, the more ticklish they are! (It's science.) Poor darlin' can't catch a break.

Really get to know him as a friend, build trust, and show him you genuinely care. If you do this, his laughter will be all the more sweet. <3

It will definitely be a love language thing for him. Hold him close, cuddle him, and then tickle him. He will have so much fun, and you will as well! :)

Has the kind of laugh that can heal people. Seriously, it's something special.

Everyone at work knows how ticklish he is. (Again, poor darlin'!) If someone simply drags their finger along his back, or taps his shoulder, he will squeal!

But it's okay. He's not too worried, because he has you around to protect him. <3

With permission, he will tickle you back. And he will tease you about all the things that make you precious while he does so!

What goes around comes around! Tickle him back, and hear that precious laugh! (Compliment him too, but only in private, because he gets emotional.)

Worst spots: navel, knees, neck.

Most ticklish to: scrub brushes (only on "tough" spots)

Despite usually losing a tickle fight, he will offer comfort to you afterwards. Lay on top of him, and make him feel safe and loved too. <3

[mangocharmer]

Meetup at the club - HEAT (1995)

[heartstopper-tword]

anything w imogen and nick :) i really love their big brother/lil sister dynamic

A/N: hello anon! yes i love their relationship so much, and i have wanted to write about them for so long :) hope you enjoy!

also if you want to send in any prompts, you can find the list here!

You Deserve Better

It had been a couple weeks since Imogen had ended her relationship with Ben in Paris, and she still wasn't herself.

Before the day of the trip had even arrived, she'd spent hours at home trying to plan things to do with her boyfriend, whether it be with the others or the two of them having intimate time alone together. It was the city of love, dammit. And Ben was her first ever real boyfriend! She wanted to be the best girlfriend she could to her partner. But of course, her plans had been squashed pretty much immediately as soon as she arrived at the busses that day.

Ben had acted cold and distant from the start, hardly sparing her the time of day to even talk to her. He wouldn't show her any affection, unless anyone was paying attention to them, and even then Imogen could tell it wasn't genuine. She'd tried to kiss him a few times while they were at the Eiffel tower, but he'd succeeded in dodging her attempts every time.

Imogen was at a loss. Had she done something wrong? Why was he mad at her? She'd tried to talk to him alone about these few incidents on multiple occasions, but all in all gave up after he'd told her he was fine and that she was just being sensitive about it.

A few times, she'd thought back to when she'd told Nick she was officially with Ben for the first time. She remembered the flicker of emotion on his face, ranging from confused to worried in an instant, but she didn't think much of it at the time, thinking it was just his protective nature coming out like it did around his friends. And then she would think about later on when he'd tried to ask why she was with him at all, seemingly disappointed about her relationship.

She'd been so offended at first, refusing to listen to him try and explain himself, that she'd left him dry by himself out of anger. She'd truly thought Ben was a nice guy, and that he really did love her. But of course, she'd been wrong all along.

She'd be lying if she would say that her confrontation to him at dinner wasn't satisfying. She couldn't have cared less that a little over half her year was present, listening to her complaints and watching Ben's discomfort concerning his toxicity. Sure, his jab at her being a bitch hurt a bit, but she really did try not to let it get to her. All she knew was that she was done. She didn't want him around her anymore.

Even after all of that evening's events, and finally finding her now main group of friends through that trip, Imogen couldn't help but continue to dwell on the fact that her first relationship with a boy was a complete disaster. She hadn't jumped back to her usual, bubbly self like she normally would be, her thoughts drifting back to Ben constantly. It wasn't like she was still in love with him - of course she wasn't - it was the fact that she let someone make her feel so bad about herself, and she stuck around for it.

As quiet about her feelings as she tried to be, she was never good at hiding her emotions. And obviously, Nick had been noticing.

"Alright you," Nick sighed, grabbing Imogen's hand and pulling her away from their group, walking them around the side of the school where they could have a bit of privacy. "What's going on?"

Imogen's eyes were trained on the ground, and she fiddled with her sleeves sheepishly.

"You've been silent ever since we got back from Paris, which isn't like you." he continued, staring her down. "You're not still upset about..."

He trailed off, not wanting to mention said person, but Imogen shifted her weight, shrugging her shoulders. "It's not just about him," she whispered, her voice barely a whisper, "it's just..."

Nick waited patiently, watching as the girl took in a shuddering breath and finally met his eyes, tears threatening to spill. "Why is it that my first relationship had to fail? Why did I get stuck with the jerk who only cared about appearances rather than actual faithfulness to someone?" She kicked a rock by her foot, watching it tumble a few feet. "Am I just that easily manipulated? So much that people can walk over me whenever they want?"

"No," Nick spoke firmly, shaking his head. "It's not anything about you."

"But-"

"Ben's a dick. He likes to use people for his own needs, especially when it makes him look like a saint. I don't even think he has the ability to feel human emotion, which is probably why he's so horrible to people." He wrapped an arm over the girl's shoulder, squeezing her into his side as he spoke. "You deserve so much better than him."

Imogen looked up at him, still looking unsure.

"I just thought I'd found the guy," she admitted sadly. "You know... someone who could treat me like how you and Charlie treat each other. I want someone who could love me like that."

"And you'll find them," Nick assured her genuinely, "It may just take some time."

"How long?"

"Maybe a few months, even a few years. For most people, they don't find their partner right away. You may date a few people before you find the one. But that doesn't mean you're not a good girlfriend for someone. Anyone would be extremely lucky to have you."

Imogen sniffed, moving her gaze away from Nick once again. Nick watched her for a moment, raising an eyebrow at her. "You don't believe me, do you?"

She shrugged, saying nothing. "I don't not believe you, but..."

"Uh uh." Nick gently lifted her chin to look at him again, "No more self deprecation. You are beautiful, kind, funny, genuine, a top notch badass-"

"Nihick," Imogen tried to whine, though her lips turned up into a growing smile as she tried to wiggle away from him.

"See? There's that smile!" Nick chuckled, grinning victoriously. "It'll win over thousands!"

Imogen giggled, a light yet powerful sound, trying to playfully push Nick away from her, but he pulled her into a bearhug, keeping her trapped against him. He dug his fingers into her sides, causing her to let out a startled squeal, her attempts to escape becoming more frantic as high pitched giggles poured out of her. "Nick noho! Stohohop!"

"Not until you say it." He said, dropping both of them to the grass and hovering over her.

Imogen squeaked, trying and failing to grab onto the older boy's wrists, "Sahahahay whahahat?"

"Say..." he thought for a second, his movements pausing momentarily, and Imogen tried to catch her breath. "Say three good things about yourself and I'll let you go."

Imogen whimpered, kicking her legs once in protest. "Nick, do I really have t- wait! Wahahait, gihihive mehehe a chahance tohoho thihihihink!" She threw her head back, laughter overtaking her as she tried to fight off his hands which had moved to her ribs.

"You shouldn't have to think too hard about it!" Nick laughed, though he felt a slight pain in his heart. How badly had she been tearing herself down recently?

"IHIHI- IHIHI'M NIHIHICE TOHO PEHEOPLE!"

"Extremely!" Nick accented, moving one hand to her neck, and she shrieked. "There's one, now give me two more!"

"NOHOHO COME OHOHON!" She shook her head, letting out another squeal when his other hand moved under her arm. "STOHOP!"

"What else are you?" Nick prompted, letting up slightly, and Imogen squeezed her eyes shut. "You're..."

"Fihihine, I'm prehehetty!"

"Exactly, you're gorgeous. Just one more!"

He paused his hands again, pulling back to give her a breather, and Imogen gasped for air. She laid helplessly on the ground, still giggling, and looked up at Nick pleadingly. "I- I don't-"

"And I want to hear you say the last thing I told you specifically." Nick grinned at her, and she groaned. "I don't remember what that was!"

Nick could tell she was lying, her cheeks growing even more rosy, not just from laughing. He continued to stare down at her, putting on a mock serious tone.

"Imogen, don't make me go for your hips."

"NO!" She panicked, her eyes going wide.

But Nick's hands were already moving, and before she could do anything to stop him, he had a hold of her hips and had started to squeeze.

To say Imogen screamed was an understatement, and the loud, high pitched laughter was enough to make Nick wonder if they'd get into trouble for causing such a ruckus.

"STOPSTOPSTOHOHOP! PLEHEHEHEASE!" She shrieked, kicking her legs wildly, shoving at Nick's shoulders, but her strength was quickly leaving her, not that she'd had much to fight him off to begin with.

Nick couldn't help but laugh along with her, a sense of fondness overtaking him as she struggled beneath him. He hadn't seen her crack much of a smile since they'd returned to school, let alone laugh once, so this was just as good for him as it was for her. "Say it!"

"NOHOHO!"

"Imogen!"

"OKAY! OKAY! IHIHI'M A TOHOHOP NOHOTCH BADAHAHASS! NOW STOHOHOP!"

Nick pulled his hands away from her, watching as Imogen rolled out from underneath him a few feet away, her arms wrapping around herself as residual giggles fell from her lips. She was staring up at the sky above them, a huge grin on her face.

Nick snickered, smirking in amusement. "You okay?"

"No."

He rolled his eyes, standing and walking over to her, and she squeaked as she saw him approach her. "Calm down, I'm done tormenting you." He chuckled, offering a hand to help her stand and pulling her up from the ground.

Imogen was still breathing heavily as she smoothed out her now wrinkled skirt, a playful scowl on her face. "You're lucky I brought my extra uniform with me today, Nelson. How else would I explain the grass stains on my skirt?"

Nick only laughed, pulling her into a warm side hug, squeezing her shoulder gently. "You believe me now?"

Imogen groaned, though the smile was back on her face. "Yes, Nick, I believe you now."

"Good. Because you do deserve better than him."

Imogen fell quiet again, though this time, it was appreciative. She couldn't imagine what she'd be like without as good as a friend as Nick.

[amazingmsme]

You're The Mouse

AN: I was having a hard time wondering just what I wanted to do for the chase prompt, and then I met Distortion Michael & the rest is history! This was an absolute blast of a fic to write, definitely one of the longer ones you'll see this month. I already miss Tim a lot so he gets a nice lil spotlight too. Posting this at 2am because I'm excited & the one time I did that it blew up. Hope y'all enjoy day 6!

It had been a long, tiring day with some rather harrowing statements he had to hear and record himself. His back ached from hunching over the desk for hours without a good break, and he felt tired down to his bones. Even his eyes felt tired, burning from the strain of staring at small font and lack of blinking. He couldn't wait to get home and crash in the couch. It was only Wednesday, which for him didn't bode well for the rest of the week.

He should've noticed the static. That fuzzy ringing in his ears that started out quiet, only to grow in intensity. If his mind wasn't so frazzled, he would've noticed that's not his usual office door.

A chill ran down his spine when he stepped through the doorway and found himself deep in the tunnels.

"Oh God," he muttered to himself, backing up and turning to run, but it was too late. The door was gone, and he ran straight into Michael's arms. Though he didn't remain there for long.

He screamed and started trashing, managing to elbow him in the stomach and stomp on his foot. Temporarily hurt, he recoiled enough for his grip to slip so Jon could free himself. He whipped around to face him once he felt there was a suitable distance between them. Although with Michael, he wasn't sure there even was such a thing.

"What the hell do you want now?" he growled, hands gripping the strap of his messenger bag tightly. Michael let out an echoing, disorienting chuckle.

"Oh archivist, I simply want some fun."

That was quite possible one of the worst things he could've said, at least in Jon's opinion. Because when Michael had fun, people usually ended up dead or insane, or in a cruel twist of fate, both.

"Maybe you should pick up a hobby, like drawing or golfing, or literally anything that involves leaving all of us alone," he suggested, though it felt more like a plea once it left his tongue. Michael let out a shrill giggle.

"You just don't get it, do you?" he asked with a tilt of his head. His wide smile was unnerving. "You're my favorite little toy."

Jonathan's face scrunched up in disgust as he looked him up and down, clearly not amused by his statement.

"Oh get your mind out of the gutter archivist, I didn't mean it like that," he scolded. "It's more like... when you were a child and you'd build fantastic cities out of blocks just so you could watch their destruction at your own hands." He took a step closer. "I'm just looking for a bit of fun amidst the chaos."

His held his hand out in front of him, reaching for Jon. His eyes widened in fear, stumbling backwards. Michael's hand distorted and stretched before his very eyes, long fingers growing in the darkness of the tunnels. Jon was already halfway down the hall.

Michael loved the thrill of the chase. He loved hearing the rapid thud of a racing heart, the panicked gasps for air as they ran for an escape. They were all the same, really, if he thought about it. Just a mindless chase through endless, winding halls that always ended victoriously. (For him, at least.)

Jon was frantic. Why now, of all days? He was so ready to walk through his front door, kick off his shoes and enjoy a nice hot frozen meal on his couch. It really was the least he could ask for, and yet, he couldn't even have that. The only saving grace was the fact that he was in the archive tunnels instead of whatever weird pocket dimension the Distortion liked to trap people in. His lungs ached as his feet pounded against the hard, dirt floor, eyes searching through the dark for something, anything to register with him and give him a clue as to his whereabouts, but it all looked the same.

"Joooon, come out come out wherever you are!" the voice was shrill and empty, the words hollowed out and stuffed to the brim with static. It echoed through the tunnels, and Jon couldn't tell where it came from, but the echo made it sound so fucking close and that sent him into a panic.

He ran ahead, ducking in a small alcove to catch his breath. He felt like he'd put a sufficient distance between them to be safe enough to do so. He gulped down air until the burn in his lungs subsided. He raised two fingers to his neck, checking his racing pulse and willed himself to calm down. Every reaction was just giving Michael exactly what he wants.

He needed to conserve his energy, move slower to remain quiet and keep his wits about him. He was pretty sure he had his bearings now, which was a plus. But if he really was where he thought he was, then they were deep in the underground maze. It took the better part of 30 minutes to even get to this point in the tunnels!

At least he knew where he was, he told himself, forcing himself to focus on the bright side of things. He walked at a brisk pace, a borderline jog really. He wanted to get out of here quickly, but he didn't want to give Michael the satisfaction of causing him to panic.

"Believe it or not, I don't want to hurt you, archivist. I simply want to have some simple, haaarmless funnn together, ehehehehehe!" His voice went shrill and warbly and distorted towards the end of his unnerving giggle so much that it became almost inaudible. And fuck, if it didn't make Jon run.

Could you blame him though? There was no way that- that thing actually meant what it said. It was absolutely going to hurt him. And it was probably going to do so in the most terrible ways imaginable.

Jon hated the deep, guttural scream that ripped from his throat when he rounded a corner and came face to face with the blonde monster.

His feet scrambled on the packed dirt and he was already turning around, but arms that were too long wrapped around him from behind, dragging him back as they retracted to a more normal length. He was screaming and kicking the air, arms fighting to free themselves.

"Shh shh shhhh, would you relax? What part of I don't want to hurt you did you not understand?" he chastised, holding a single finger to Jon's lips to quiet him. He went silent out of shock more than actual compliance.

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Now what do you really want?" Jon demanded, mustering enough confidence to glare him down. Michael just laughed.

"Like I said, I'm just looking for some fun. You humans aren't the only ones who get bored you know," he said condescendingly. Jon remained silent.

"I tend to- peak in, from time to time, just to see how my favorite sheeple are holding up," he mused, causing Jon to visibly cringe and roll his eyes.

"Good to know there's actual reason behind always feeling like I'm being watched," he grumbled.

"Oh no, I'm not the only one, but trust me, I'm your favorite."

"Quite the opposite."

"Well, I will be your favorite," he winked and giggled to himself. "But last week, I noticed you playing with your friends. You looked soooo happy then... I'd like to make you happy like that too, Jon."

What a nice sentiment from such a not nice entity, not to mention he had no clue what he was talking about. "Bullshit, you don't want to make me happy, you want to ruin my life!" he snapped, still continuing his struggle.

"Oh, but can't I do both? Life ruining is such a long process, and I'd really like to hear that laugh in person."

Realization dawned on him the same time terror wracked his body, body going stiff and eyes bugging out. Michael cocked his head, that unnaturally large smile forming into a curious pout.

"Why archivist, if I didn't know better I'd say you look frightened," he cooed. "There's no need for that. You didn't have that look when Martin snuck up on you in the break room," he pointed out.

"You keep his name out your fucking mouth," Jon growled, and in a moment he was pressing into the Distortion's space. He had grabbed him by the shirt collar and jerked him so hard his neck snapped at the momentum, their noses almost touching. A few flecks of spit even landed on Michael's cheek from the force of Jon's rage. It genuinely took him aback before a wicked grin took over.

"Your boy toy's off limits, lesson learned."

"He's not my-" Jon cut himself off, seeing no use in arguing with him. His eyes were closed and he pressed a free hand to his temple. "Look. You said you wanted your sick fun, but all you've done since capturing me is talk. I'm a smart man, I know I can't escape this. But I'm fucking tired, and I just wanna go home, so the sooner you shut up and get on with it, the better."

There was a beat of silence, and then a shit eating grin followed by, "If you wanted me to tickle you already, you could've just said so."

"No, I want to go home you assho-" Jon cut off his own rambling mid sentence as Michael started fluttering his fingers over his sides, prompting him to clamp his mouth shut. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm doing this so I can hear that cute, funny laugh of yours archivist! The longer you hold out the longer I have to tickle tickle tickle you!" his taunt echoed off the walls. Jon flushed and hid his face in his hands.

"Y-you're sohoho fucking weheheird!" His voice pitched higher towards the end of his sentence when Michael tweaked his sides before drilling in his thumb. He tossed his head back with a discordant cackle of his own, seemingly amused by the response.

"Is that really the best insult you can come up with? How adorably pathetic!" he cooed, reaching around with his other hand to knead his belly. Jon writhed in his grip, snickering and squealing with no way to escape.

"Shut up or Ihihi'll- nohoho wahahait!" the threat died on his tongue, melting into frantic giggles. He kicked his feet in the air and gently shoved at the offending tickly hands, but to no avail. He slumped in his hold, leaning back over his arm and covered his face with his hands.

"Oh? And what exactly am I waiting for?" Michael asked, cocking his head. The way he was so calm while picking Jon apart made it all the more maddening. Those long, spindly fingers were able to work their way into every tickle spot they could find, and it was perhaps the most horrendous thing he's ever felt in his life.

"I-Ihihi dohon't knohohow!" he whined, yelping when Michael pinched and prodded at his soft tummy. "Just shuhut up!"

"Hm, I don't think I will. Especially if it gets you all worked up like that," he taunted. Ironically, he started tracing a large spiral over his stomach, closing in on his bellybutton. Jon snorted, covering his face with one hand while trying to push Michael away with the other.

"Ohoho you've gotta behehe johoking," Jon groaned through his giddy laughter, rolling his eyes.

"What? It's my signature, I simply have to," he said casually, closing in on the center of his stomach. Jon's deep chuckles morphed until they were high pitched and bubbly. He was blushing like a fool behind his hand, shrieking and wiggling in Michael's arms all the while.

~~~

Tim had the worst luck. He had been halfway home when he realized he'd not only left his wallet, but his keys as well, at the institute. He backtracked, grumbling to himself the whole time.

He hated nothing more than being alone in the archives. It was bad enough being there during the day surrounded by people, but at night when those endless halls and rooms were empty? It might as well be straight out of a horror game.

He was trying to get to his office as fast as possible, but slowed as he neared Jon's office. The light was off, and he couldn't hear talking, sure, but the door was left open. Jon never left his door open.  The sight filled Tim with dread.

"Boss? You still here?" he called out, but received no answer. He walked to the door and peeked inside, greeted only by a dark and empty room.

Maybe he just forgot to shut the door when he left, he tried to reason with himself. But none of them were that lucky, especially not Jon. Still, he went back to retrieve his things and be on his way.

Execpt that's when he heard it.

Muffled screaming. Coming from below.

Tim froze, unsure if what he was hearing was true. He bent down, putting his ear to the floor and listened.

He could just make it out.

"Please, no, have mercyyyyy!"

That was someone pleading for their life. That was Jon pleading for his life... He raced to the trapped doors.

He had the sickening feeling that he'd walk in on Elias standing over Jon's body, having killed him deep within the tunnels just as he did Gertrude. Well not today.

He descended into the tunnels, pausing when he heard frantic, hysterical screams echoing down the halls, but he could swear it sounded like... laughter. And now that he was within the tunnels, he could hear that it was undeniably Jon's.

Just what the hell was going on?

~~~

Jon knew he was going to die here, in these godforsaken tunnels. He had no way of stopping this, and Michael proved to be just as relentless now as he's ever been. And those long fucking fingers of his were absolute torture. Just one hand was big enough to vibrate over his entire stomach and still wrap around to dig  into his sides and scribble at the base of his spine. Jon was effectively in hysterics, shrieking and giggling with no end in sight.

He should hate this. Should hate that it was Michael of all people doing this to him, but an overwhelming part of him was relieved that he wasn't subjected to legitimate torture. A more foolish part of him thought that maybe Michael was warming up to them: that maybe he wasn't so downright malicious after all.

And then he felt sharp nails scratching behind both his ears, and that thought was gone as soon as it had arrived. If he hadn't been cackling so loud, perhaps they would've heard Tim calling out for Jon, telling him to just hold on, he'll be right there.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

If Jon hadn't been so preoccupied, he'd have jumped and shrieked in fright, though he was shrieking for an entirely different reason at the moment. Michael on the other hand, did startle, having been caught red handed. He almost seemed embarrassed, and dropped him like a sack of potatoes. Jon landed flat on his back, the breath being knocked out of his already breathless lungs. Tim was frozen in place, taking in the scene. He was knocked out of his daze when he saw Jon hit the ground, and he immediately rushed over to help him up.

Jon was gasping and wheezing, face red and hair messy, but he still had that rare, genuine smile on his face.

"Sorry you had to see that, I had thought the archives was empty," Michael said in lieu of an explanation.

"Yeah, it was. Good thing I had to come back," Tim snapped. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, he's perfectly fine. I didn't harm a single hair on his head."

"You fucking dropped me!"

Michael let out a shrill chuckle. "And that was a complete accident! But you can't really blame me for wanting to have my own fun with you. Especially after everyone else made it look like so much fun."

"Hey, you stay away from him! Only we're allowed to torture Jon like that!" Tim scolded weakly, but it was all he could think to say. Which just made him feel stupid when Michael continued to laugh at them.

"Oh, so you're the only ones who can toy with the archivist, is that it?" he asked tauntingly, cocking his head. Tim opens his mouth to answer, but stops short. Jon is sitting curled in a ball, hiding his face in his knees.

"No, you've got it wrong. We do it because we care about him, and want him to be happy, even if it's short lived. You do it for your own sick kicks!" Tim accused. Jon's head snapped up when he admitted their reasoning for why they always seem to tickle him out of the blue. It brought a shy smile to his face as he recovered from the ordeal.

"... Well that's a rude assumption. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

Tim snorted, "My point exactly." They were all quiet, the three of them engaged in a bit of a stalemate. "Aren't you going to show yourself the door?" he boldly prompted. Jon choked on his own spit in shock.

Michael's smile widened. "You know, I wasn't quite finished yet. And I'd hate for you to feel left out," he playfully threatened, and his limbs stretched ever so slightly as he spoke. Tim took a step back, eyes wide. Jon was just now making to stand, and pointed at him sternly.

"No." He stood up and dusted himself off, glasses askew on his face. He straightened them and cleared his throat. "Haven't you had enough? You leave him, and everyone else alone." And just because he knows better than to trust Michael, added, "That includes me too."

"I'll think about it. It'd be easier if you weren't so fun to tickle. Isn't that right Tim?" Michael asked, even winking at the pair. Jon blushed and turned away, and Tim failed to fight back a smile.

"Heh. Right." He shook himself out of it, glaring at Michael as he stood by Jon protectively. "B-but you just mind your business."

"Ha! Unlikely, diet archivist."

"Hey!" Tim snapped at the insulted and Jon stifled an amused  snicker. He was just about to give him a piece of his mind when Michael opened a door that hadn't been there a second ago, standing in the doorway.

"Until we meet again," he waved at them, closing the door behind him, leaving them stunned and alone.

Now that Michael was gone, Tim turned to Jon with a teasing smirk. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'll be fine. I'm honestly... more confused than anything." Tim barked out a laugh and patted his shoulder.

"You and me both."

They began their trek out of the tunnels, walking side by side quietly until Tim broke the silence.

"So, what's it like being tickled senseless by the Distortion?" he asked in a teasing tone. Jon flushed and shot a glare his way, but he had that happy, sheepish grin plastered on his fast, just like every other time they wrecked him.

"Oh, should I have let you find out for yourself?" Jon quipped to mask his own embarrassment.

Tim looked down with a faint blush. "Fair point." A beat, and then, "You know we have to tell the others, right?"

Jon choked on his own spit, and Tim stopped walking to give him a moment. He looked at him expectantly, while Jon looked at him with a floored look.

"Are you joking?" he asked.

"As much as I wish I were, no." The shit eating grin on his face said otherwise. "You heard what that thing said. We're all fair game in his eyes." Jon gave a noncommittal hum. "They deserve a bit of a warning, don't you think?" It was true, but he didn't have to be so damn smug about it.

"Yes," Jon begrudgingly agreed through a growl.

"Think it might be best if you made a statement. You know, so we have an accurate account for the record."

Jon groaned and hid behind his hair. "I would literally rather die." Tim barked out a laugh and threw an arm over his shoulders.

"Always with the dramatics! So you're saying you'd rather tell them in person? Look them in the eyes and admit how I saved you-"

"Don't-"

"From the big bad ti-"

Jon didn't think he'd ever been so embarrassed. "Stop!"

"The big bad tickle monster named Michael!" Tim rushed out in one breath, laughing at the flustered squeak he made as he marched ahead. It took him no time at all to catch up, thanks to his long legs. "Oh come on, you know it's funny!"

Jon huffed, unable to hide his lingering smile. "Only because it wasn't you, asshole."

They continued their playful banter back and forth, unaware of the tape recorder that had appeared in Jon's pocket the moment he entered the tunnels, listening in and capturing every word.

~~~

Tim was relieved when he made it back home, slipping his key in the door and stepping inside. Strange, how he didn't seem to notice the change from handle to doorknob.

His eyes flew open when he was met with the sight of an endless, shifting corridor. He felt sick. A chill ran down his spine, his ears were ringing, his head filled with static and he stumbled in an attempt to get his bearings. There was a sinking feeling in his gut, and he felt so trapped.

Michael walked out from the nothingness, grin much too wide for his face. Tim hugged his arms to his body and stepped back, fighting an involuntary smile tugging at his lips.

"Y-you stay back! I'll fuck you up!" Tim cried, bravely putting his hands up, balled into fists and ready to swing. Michael laughed, and it was a sound that unsettled Tim to his very core. He held his hands up, and Tim couldn't help but flinch at the movement.

"Believe it or not, I'm not here to torture you. I'll save that for a rainy day," he added, chuckling at his own joke. Tim lowered his arms, staring at him skeptically.

"Okaaaay. So what the hell are you doing in my home?"

"But I brought you to my home," he corrected, and that wide grin turned just a tad condescending. Tim narrowed his eyes and set his jaw.

"Yeah, through my front door!" he argued before sighing in defeat, pinching the bride of his nose. "So what do you want?"

"I wanted to give you something." Tim perked up, looking at him in shock. He jumped and yelped when Michael was standing right in front of him. He held out the tape recorder.

"A little... souvenir from earlier. I doubt Sasha and Martin will believe you without proof." He placed the tape in Tim's hand, leaving him dumbstruck. "And I really have a hard time believing Jon will corroborate your story, don't you?"

Tim didn't know what to say. "Um... thank you?"

Michael winked at him. "You're welcome." And because he couldn't help himself, he skittered his fingers over his belly. Tim jerked back with a surprised laugh, a blush and a growing look of fear on his face.

"Relax. Like I said, rainy day."

He gave him a small wave and opened a door off to the side and left. Everything melted into his flat, and he was safe in the middle of his living room.

~~~

Jon walked into work the next day as if it were any other, eager to forget the events of last night. He went to the break room for a cup of coffee to start the day and walked in to see Sasha, Martin, and of course, Tim, huddled around a tape recorder. They all wore a look of concern. Well, except for Tim.

"What're you listening to?" he asked. Sasha and Martin jumped out of their skin when they heard his voice, whipping around to meet him. They looked rather guilty, but more concerning, they looked worried.

The next thing he knew, Martin was hugging him.

"I'm sorry, what's-" A voice on the tape interrupts him.

"Joooon, come out come out wherever you are!"

"I-I'm so sorry, we left you here alone, and Tim said Michael got you and-"

"Did he now?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Now Jon, is that any way to speak to your knight in shining armor?"

"Oh please, you're not my bloody knight." He spoke over the sound of his own erratic breathing and feet pounding against hard packed dirt.

"Were you even gonna tell us Michael attacked you?" Sasha asked, brows furrowed with worry. "Because I really doubt it."

Jon floundered for an answer, face going red. "Um- it- look, it really wasn't as serious as Tim undoubtedly made it seem." He glanced up at his smiling face and said, "Would he really be grinning like that if it was?"

Of course, as soon as they looked at him, he schooled his features into a serious expression, but they each caught a glimpse of a fading smirk.

"Okay what's... what's happening right now?" Martin asked, looking between the two.

"You wanna tell them yourself Jon? Or uh, let the tape do the talking for you?" he asked, holding up the tape.

"Shh shh shhhh, would you relax? What part of I don't want to hurt you did you not understand?"

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Now what do you really want?"

Jon refused to meet his friends' gaze as he spoke over his previous conversation. "Look, I'm fine. He didn't hurt me, didn't psychologically scar me, the only thing damaged was my pride."

The tape played on in the background as Jon tried to explain himself. Michael's endless talk of having fun did nothing to calm Sasha and Martin's nerves for past-Jon. "I-I don't really know why he t- uuh, did what he did, but he seemed almost... friendly isn't exactly the word I'd use, maybe tame? Toned down?" That was about the time Michael mentioned the rest of them, and how they all "played" with Jon. A hesitant smile ghosted over Sasha's lips as she thought she knew what he was hinting at, and judging by Jon's reaction, she might be right, but there was just no way... Was there?

"Jon, did Michael-"

"Yes," he cut her off before she could finish the sentence. "Yeah, he uh, said you all made it look like fun, so he decided to try it out," he said, staring at the faded break room carpet.

"Wait, so it's our fault?" Martin asked, and Jon immediately felt guilty for saying it like that.

"No! God no, you guys are just trying to make me loosen up. Michael's just... morbidly curious."

"Right," Tim agreed, suddenly more serious. "He uh, told me he was waiting for a rainy day. So obviously, he has his sights set on all of us. Which is... unnerving to say the least." He locked eyes with Jon, a soft smile on his face. "So I'm not just doing this to fuck with you. But that is an excellent perk!" Jon couldn't help but chuckle. "But I thought everyone deserved a bit of a heads up. And maybe ease some worry while I'm at it." "Where'd you even get this?" Jon asked, pointing at the recorder just as his own bubbly giggles  started pouring out.

"Michael gave it to me."

"Very funny." When Tim's expression didn't change, his jaw dropped, "You're serious."

"Where else would I have gotten it from?"

"Fair point."

A loud shriek followed by shrill cackling and snorts emitted from the tape. All heads snapped over to look at him with amused grins and fond expressions.

"Right. Well, I lived through this once already. No need to stick around for a second time," he said, cheeks burning from embarrassment. He paused in the door. "I'm never gonna hear the end of this, am I?"

"Not likely."

"Nope!"

"Absolutely not."

He gave a curt nod, lips pursed together. "Thought so."

[rainbowpopeworld]

Told my spouse that trying to find new ways to satisfy my hyperfixation was “tickling my brain weasels”

They laughed and said “Oh! You’re trying to find dopamine”

[tk-fandom-stuff]

Here's a sneak peek of the fic im writing for yall to chew on while you wait :]

[tastybluesprite]

The Kaiser Effect (Blue Lock)

New Blue Lock fic!!!! I’m trying to post more of these. I have some others that I started but still haven’t finished yet lol. I might try working on them and posting them. So yeah here’s some ler!Kaiser and lee!Isagi because I love them. My favorite frienimies lol. Hope you like it! I put more romantic undertones but can be seen as platonic or romantic.

Warnings: Some cursing, also this is a tickle fic so if that’s not your thing then feel free to just keep scrolling.

Summery: When Isagi accidentally walks in on Kaiser working out… well chaos lol…

Isagi flopped back on his new bed. He couldn’t believe how far he made it. Especially after the U-20 match. That alone felt unreal. First it was meeting Noel Noa, his hero! He didn’t ever dream he’d get to meet him so soon. He felt pretty happy with his choice of joining Germany, Munchen Bastards.

After the game between them and Manshine City, Nagi and Reos team, he was feeling more confident than he ever had. He even managed to earn the title “Man of the Match.”

The only thing standing in his way at the moment, was that jackass of a player. Michael Kaiser. He already knew he wanted to take the guy down despite the fact that they’re on the same team.

Just thinking about him made Isagi riled up. Finally breaking out of his thoughts, he sat up. “I’m gonna go train a bit.” He told Kurona, who was seated on his own bed next to him.

“Alright.” Kurona replied with a slight nod as he scrolled through his phone.

When Isagi made it to the training room, he could’ve fainted from shock of such coincidence.

There he was. Michael Kaiser. The blonde with blue tips looked towards him as he was in the middle of lifting some weights.

“Hello there Yoichi.” Kaiser greeted him when he looked up from his weights, bearing an as-if friendly grin.

“Hey…” Isagi said awkwardly, going for the yoga mats. He had taken a leaf out of Rin Itoshis book to try and do more yoga stretching. Isagi figured he needed to have more routine if he was going to surpass all the great players. He took off his sports jacket, revealing his black tank top, somewhat broad shoulders, and muscular biceps. All the training he’d been doing for Blue Lock really bulked him up a lot.

“Yoga huh?” Kaiser asked, tilting his head.

Yoichi Isagi shrugged. “I’m trying to stretch more. I want to gain more flexibility to better improve out on the field.”

“How is flexibility going to make you a better player?” Kaiser asked him, raising an eyebrow. He actually got up and took a seat on the floor next to the younger boy.

Isagi frowned. Did he really need to explain himself to a guy like this? Then he shrugged. “It’s just a routine I’m trying to implement more in my training. I Uh… picked up up from a friend.”

Kaiser grinned. “Well obviously it’s doing something then huh? You sure are a lot more built than you seem.” Kaiser smirked as he poked at his biceps.

Isagi ignored the tingling sensation from the touch as he leaned himself away.

“Do you have abs too…?” Nothing, absolutely nothing, could’ve prepared Isagi for when Kaiser then began grabbing at his abdomen, causing an electrical shock-like sensation to the nerves there. Isagi accidentally let out a loud squeak as he flinched.

They both froze for a second, Kaiser looking Isagi with an expression of surprise.

“Whoops, my bad Isagi. Did I tickle you?”

His smirk only deepened.

And before Isagi could tell the guy to fuck off, Kaiser grabbed his sides.

“W-wahahahahahahahait!!!” Isagi let out a shriek before desolving into giggles, uselessly trying to protect his body with his arms.

“Wow that Igaguri fellow was right. You really are ticklish. Here I was thinking I’d have to wait a while until I could do this. But this is better than l had hoped.”

Isagi was distantly thinking how much he wanted to murder Igaguri, when the blonde stuck his fingers up his underarms, which was worse than it usually was due to the fact that he was wearing a tank top.

“S-stohOHoHohohohoahap!!!” Isagi protested, trying to squirm away. God this was so humiliating. He was being rendered to a helpless puddle of giggles in front of one of the regulars of the pro German team.

Unfortunately things became far from over, when Kaiser went for his belly once more.

Isagi shrieked, falling onto his back as he uselessly pushed at the hand that was digging into his belly mercilessly.

“G-GYAHH NOhoHoho PLEhEhEAHaSE!!!!” Isagi squealed. He fucking squealed. Someone either save him or murder him. Then again there would be no difference for him between the two.

“Aw does the great and powerful egoist striker have a sensitive belly~” Kaiser teased with a grin. He honestly couldn’t help find this endearing, watching the younger squirm and kick on the floor, bubbly laughter spilling out of him.

“Hey Isagi, your friend told me another thing. He said that you particularly love to be tickled right here…” Kaiser then brought his hands to either side of his lower ribs, digging into the spot roughly.

Isagi seemed to almost be electrocuted, as he jolted, a screech ripping from his throat.

Just great. The guy just had to get his worst spot. Fantastic.

“Man you are way too ticklish for your own good.” Kaiser chuckled.

“SHUHUHUT THEHE FUHUHUCK UHUHUP AHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”

Kaiser honestly couldn’t help be entranced. The boys cheeks were flushed red, tears beading his eyes, his mouth in a face splitting smile. If he had a word to describe it, that word could only be “adorable.”

Soon Isagis laughter was growing hysterically silent, and he became so weak that he merely lay limp. Kaiser, breaking out of his trance, noticed this of course, and understood he needed a break.

Isagi panted, breathless on the floor. “W…what… t-the… hell… d-dammit…” Isagi was too tired out now to say any form of retort.

Kaiser then suddenly bursted into laughter of his own.

Isagi flinched at the sudden noise, sitting up as he watched his new teammate crumble to pieces with laughter.

“OHohoho myhy gohohod…” Kaiser managed, trying to control himself.

He soon managed to regain his composure. “Hah… wohow… I hahave to say I haven’t laughed so hard in a whihile. Felt amazihing.” Kaiser said, some giggles still escaping.

Isagi frowned. “What are you laughing about?”

Kaiser grinned. “Because I think you’re adorable Yoichi Isagi. I look forward to battling together in the next game.” He said as he got up, making his way towards the door.

Little did he know that the young boy, upon realizing what he had just said, became so red in the face, that he thought he might explode. His brain felt damn near broken.

He supposed that was just the Kaiser effect.

[chalterdh22]

Day 19: Dexter, Deb and Rita in “Secret” in Augtickletober2024

Summary:  I know Dexter has been off the air for some time, but that show was amazing!  I really miss this family dynamics!  Deb, Rita and Dexter are all hanging out at Rita’s.  When old stories arise about Dexter being a little more sensitive than Rita realizes, the truth comes out.

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, so if that’s not your thing, don’t read.  Some swearing.  All fluff.  Ler: F Lee: M

“Deb, grab me another beer!” Dexter yells at his sister as she walks to the kitchen.

“Sure thing, baby brother!  Anything else you need?” She asks sarcastically.  By this time, both of them have had a few to drink and Rita was just sitting there enjoying the comradery of two siblings, which she hardly got to see together.

“I love to see you two just being yourselves around me.”  Rita stops and sighs, looking over at Dexter.  Dexter smiles back at her.  “I especially love how Deb here can give your shit, and you just sit here and take it!”

Deb gives Dexter a beer and laughs. “Ha, yeah, cuz he has too, or I’ll beat him up!  Right Dex!”  Deb shoves his shoulder standing next to him while he was seated on a couch with Rita.  She sits down on a small stool, probably one of the kids’, next to him.  “There were times I had you begging me to leave you alone, right?”  She stares right at him with a huge grin!

He immediately starts getting a little flush.  “Yeah, well, that was when I was a stringy kid.  I’m different now.”

“Wait, you used to beat him up?” Rita asked.  “That’s so mean!”  She was smiling when she said this though.  Rita was such a sweet person; she would never think of beating up someone.

“Well, not so much as beat up.  See, Dex here…”

“Stop.”  Dexter said sternly, looking right at her now.  He saw where this was going and didn’t want Rita to see that side of him.

“Stop what?” Rita asked.  Deb had a huge smile on her face now, which made Dexter even more red.  “What Dexter, what did she do to you?”

“Nothing, Rita.  Just wrestling, kids’ stuff, right Deb?”  He now stared right back at her with his most serious face that most people would be scared of.  Not Deb though.

“Yeah, wrestling.  Whatever you wanna call it.  See, my baby bro doesn’t like people to know….” She stopped for dramatic effect and sipped her beer.  If Dexter ever had an inkling to kill his sister, now would have been it, but here merely just adjusted himself on the couch to look like he was ok with this conversation.

“Know what?”  Rita asked excitedly. 

“That he’s ticklish, like it’s a fucking disability!”

“Deb!”  Dexter yelled.  She was full on belly laughing at this point.  She loved making him squirm.

“Really?  You’re always so serious, I didn’t even think that was a possibility, Dexter.”  As Rita finished her words, Deb quickly reached out and grabbed Dexter’s thigh making him gasp and jump off the couch.

“Jesus, Dex!  You haven’t changed one bit!”

“Oh, that’s so sweet, Dexter.” Rita said cooing, like she was falling in love with him all over.

Dexter cleared his throat and sat back down with his hands firmly on his legs.  Deb was just smirking and staring at him.  “Oh, lighten up, baby brother!  You never let out a good laugh anymore!”  Deb then quickly reached over and grabbed his side and kept squeezing.  Dexter let out a laugh.

“Hey, stop it!”

“Stop what?  You don’t like to laugh in front of your girlfriend or something.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s...”  Deb didn’t give him time to finish as she then threw herself on him, and started clawing has his toned stomach.  He probably could easily push her off, but she was strong, and he was temporarily weakened.  He doesn’t laugh a lot, if ever and he was gasping for air like he ran a mile.  “Debbb, st-stooopppp!  Nooooooo!”  And there it was.  The dam broke open.  “Nahhahahaahahaaaa!”

Rita just stared with a permanent smile on her face.  His laugh was beautiful and higher pitched than she imagined.  She loved it! 

Deb now reached up into his armpits, and he clamped down, curled down and couldn’t move.  “See Rita, he’s a softy.  Look at him!”  Dexter was laughing and tears were streaming down his face now.  He really couldn’t breathe.  “All that working out you do, and tickling takes you down.  You’re sad, Dex.” Then she stopped to let him breath.

He was still curled up in a ball.  He was telling himself he wouldn’t put her on his table tonight.

“Don’t listen to her Dex!  That made me so happy just hearing your laugh!”  At that moment, Deb stood up and grabbed her keys.

“Well, I think my job is done here.  Rita, two other spots, hips and feet!  Have a great night you two!” 

Dexter finally allowed himself to lay back on the couch, still breathing heavy.  “I really hate her sometimes.”

“Aw, don’t say that.  She absolutely loves you.”

“I’m going to kill her later.”  He mumbled.

“What did you say?”  Rita asked as she started walking away.

“Nothing.”  Nothing indeed.

The End

[lunarisntlee]

Trapped

Lee: Michael

Ler: Ennard, Circus Baby

Michael was frozen in place by Ennard's mechanical tentacles. They were wrapped around his arms and were now tying them up over his head. Ennard's head was right in front of him, and Michael could see the large red glow of its eyes.

"Well... what are you waiting for? Are you not going to take me apart?" Michael had already unfortunately accepted what his 'fate' was. 

Ennard's tentacles suddenly shot forward, wrapping around Michael and lifting him off the ground. Michael scrambled to free himself, but the mechanical limbs were too strong. Ennard's head moved close to his neck, and Michael felt its breath on his neck.

"So you're just going to stare at me then, hm? Not gonna do anything?"

Ennard suddenly tilted its head, as if giving Michael a better angle of its face. Michael tried to see behind him, but the tentacles were blocking his view. Ennard's head moved closer and closer to Michael's neck.

"Come on... do something... tickle me, maybe?"

Michael instantly felt regret after saying that. Ennard suddenly wrapped one of its tentacles around Michael's torso. It began tickling his ribs lightly, causing Michael to squirm and laugh hysterically. Ennard's eye glow got brighter and brighter as it laughed at Michael's reaction. When Michael tried to pull away, the mechanical arms wrapped around him more tightly.

"pFfT aHhaaAahah eEhhhNnAahaHHaard nOohhOOoho!!" 

Ennard's tentacles began to move down. Ennard tickled Michael's belly, which made him laugh harder. Ennard then wrapped its tentacles around Michael's arms and started tickling his armpits. Michael could not help but let out loud laughs and screams as he flailed around, trying to escape from Ennard. Ennard's eyes continued to glow brighter and brighter.

"BAAHHAAHHAHAH NOHOHOT THEHEHE AHAHARMPIHIHITS-!" 

Michael was now almost completely paralyzed due to Ennard's relentless tickling. Even the slightest touch to his exposed stomach had him kicking and laughing uncontrollably.

As Ennard saw Circus Baby walk into the room, it paused for a moment and smirked. Circus Baby could see how helpless Michael had become beneath Ennard's power, his body writhing around beneath the relentless tickling. Circus Baby then walked over to Michael and began touching his belly as well.

Michael could barely move his body. Every touch felt like it was taking his breath away. Circus Baby now had one of her fingers inside Michael’s bellybutton and began circling it, causing Michael to squirm and laugh uncontrollably despite his best efforts to remain calm.

"AAHAAHHAAAH I-IHIHIHI CAAHAHAANT- YOHOHOUOU GUHUUUUHYS AHAHAARE AHAHASSHOHOHOLES-"

Circus Baby's finger was making Michael laugh and squirm uncontrollably as she continued to circle his belly button. Ennard began to tickle Michael’s legs, grabbing his feet and circling the heels of his feet. At this point, Michael was completely defenseless as the duo’s relentless tickle attack was driving him to the edge of insanity. Circus Baby's finger had now started to spiral into Michael’s belly button, causing him to kick and squirm more vigorously.

"AAAHHAAHAHAHAHHAA NOOHOHOHOHOO IHIHIHIIT TIHIHIIHIIIHHCKLES-"

And that's when Ballora appears. Lovely, more for Michael. The more the merrier. 

And for the rest of the night, Michael's hysterical laughter was heard throughout the place.