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august-anon · 1 month ago

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Training Montage

#AugTickletober2024 Days 13 & 14, Win & Lose

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

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

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

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

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Fandom: DC - Batfam

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

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

Word Count: 4609 words

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

[ao3 link]

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah?”

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

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

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

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

“Hmm, you never know.”

“B!”

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

“I fucking know–”

“Language, Jason.”

“Yeah, Jason, language.”

“I’ll show you language–”

“Boys!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason turned and blinked at him.

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

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

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

“... Right.”

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

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

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

“Bruce!”

Bruce chuckled. “Yes, Jaylad?”

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

“Dick, help me!”

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

“I’ll save you, Jay!”

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

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

“B! You asshole!” Dick shrieked.

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

“Bruce! What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

Sometimes, it seemed like one of the only things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t let us stop you, old man.”

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

“Hi, Bruce.”

“Father.”

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

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

They blinked at him.

Dick frowned. “No– B, what?”

“Did someone crash the Batmobile?”

Tim cocked his head. “No?”

“Did–”

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

Bruce didn’t answer. Tim snorted.

“Fair.”

“Tt.”

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

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

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

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

“Getting rusty with age, old man?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–Damn it, they brought Alfred into it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bruce broke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Traitor,” he murmured under his breath.

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

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

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

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city-tickles · 6 months ago

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Lois’ tickle adventure with Superman!

Source: https://www.deviantart.com/kandenrem/art/Lois-ticklish-massage-2-2-1048915103

#tickling #ticklish #foot tickling #massage tickling #m/f tickling #dc tickling #tickle art friday #tickle art

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oifaaa · 6 months ago

Note

Actually i think the funniest option is having jason and steph being the same age cause it means jason holds one year over tim but steph, whos birthday is august 11th, gets 5 days over jason and she never lets him forget that

You've always got to take into account those 6 months Jason spent composting which I also don't think steph would even let Jason forget 5 days older no no no steph is 6 months and 5 days older

#ask #anon #jason and steph being the same age does tickle me #bc currently in canon theyre technically less then a year apart in age #taking in jasons dead days #which why wouldn't you consider jasons dead days #its funny #keeping track of ages in the dc universe must be so hard #so many people have died that its like #this might be your 30th birthday but you did spend 2 year's dead so your age is only 28

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widowsistersandfriends · 1 year ago

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Lasso of Tickle Truth

Summary: You are Wonder Woman's most evenly matched enemy, but she has a combination of ways to win.

Note: This was just an idea swirling in my head, and I apologize if some of the details about her aren't portrayed that well! Thank you for your patience!

Word Count: 1133

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You stumbled into a run-down shed, desperate for any hiding place. You were finally out of view from an ongoing chase with your arch nemesis: Wonder Woman. You two were in constant battles, trying to defeat the other once and for all. Your current heist was to steal a sacred document that was too important to lose. You were successful in this task, but were too late in escaping before being seen. This is how you were in the position you were in now.

You breathed heavily, fleeing by car and then foot. It was dark in the shed, a place that probably hadn’t been visited in decades. A wood chip fell off the ceiling, startling you. You silently cursed, knowing that you needed all the help you needed. Having things fall apart only meant more noise to be made and a higher chance of you being found.

You heard footsteps outside, getting closer by the minute. You held your breath, hoping it was any random bystander. Anyone but her.

“Sorry I’m late,” you heard, just outside of the shed. You scooted in as far as you could, trying to disappear in the darkness.

“Not gonna speak?” Wonder Woman asked.

Your eyes widened when you saw a golden glow appear outside of the shed. If she used her lasso of truth on you, you knew you were done for. She would find out where you hid the document. All of that planning to escape would be wasted.

There was a moment of silence, and you were unsure of what you should do next. You were too scared of what her next move would be.

After a moment, the flimsy door to the shed flew open, revealing the superhero and her lasso in front of you. You backed up against the wall, knowing that you were stuck. You felt around in the darkness for a secret back door. Your hand felt the shape of a knob and quickly turned it to open the door. You pushed it open and sprinted out, not getting very far before her lasso was roped around your torso.

You fell to the ground, struggling to get out, as she quickly caught up, pinning you to the ground.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Wonder Woman asked, raising an eyebrow. With the lasso of truth around you. Luckily for you, your power was a strong ability to fight against this.

“N-noth-ing,” you struggled to say.

“I know you stole the sacred document. You’re not going to fool me,” she said, smirking down at you.

You turned your head away, refusing to fall for her trap.

“I can fight your silly lasso you know,” you spat back at her while glowering.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and it felt as if you were two siblings fighting rather than two arch enemies.

“Maybe I’ll need something a little more powerful then hmm?” Wonder Woman suggested. With the lasso still around your torso and arms, she began to tickle your sides.

“NOHOHO NOHOT THAHAHAT,” you shouted, knowing that this is one thing you could never defend against. Especially when you were stuck in her lasso.

“What’s this? The big bad schemer is ticklish? Who would’ve thought this was how you were gonna lose…” she commented with a grin.

“AHAHAHAHA IHIHI WOHOHONT LOHOHOSE,” you squealed, as her fingers moved up to scratch away in and around your ribs.

“You may be able to fight the lasso pretty well, but combining it with tickling will make you spill for sure,” she said, now taking her finger and wiggling it in your belly button.

You shrieked, bucking so hard that you were able to flip onto your side, desperately trying to protect your sensitive giggle button.

“Awww does that tickle? Is that what this button does? It makes you laugh?” She asked, repeatedly poking into it, causing you to scream for her to stop.

“Tell me.” She demanded.

You were weakened by the tickles, and the lasso of truth was getting more and more difficult to fight against.

“N-never!” You barely said, as she flipped you back to your original position, face up.

“We’ll see about that. You know the thing is, I have intel on all of my enemies. I happen to know a little someone has very ticklish feet,” she said with a wicked grin and sat on your shins.

“NO! DONT YOU DAHAHAHARE,” you laughed while screaming and thrashing around. You desperately tried to take the lasso off, but Wonder Woman was quick, turning around and squeezing your hips, making you collapse again with a squeal.

With that, she continued to rake her nails over your sensitive soles, holding your toes back and tickling underneath.

“OHOHOKAY IHIHI GIHIHIVE,” you shouted, as she slowed her evil fingers.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” she said with a wink. You squirmed uncomfortably, before blurting out the location when she gave your knee a squeeze.

“IHIHIN THE HEHEADQUARTERS,” you squealed out.

“Thanks for the confirmation,” she said with a smirk.

“What do you mean?!?” You asked.

“Oh I figured, but at the same time it’s always fun to pick you apart,” she replied, as you flopped backwards with an eye roll.

“It is so funny though that you’re so weak to tickles,” she commented, gently flipping you over and tickling your back and neck while you were still in her lasso.

“NOHOHOOHO PLEHEHEHEASE IHIHIVE HAHAHAD ENOHOUGH,” you squealed, turning bright red.

“It’s fun messing with someone who’s supposed to be equally matched with me,” she said, now letting you out of her lasso. You quickly tried to yank it, wanting to expose her secrets. However, it backfired as she gave it a much stronger yank, as she captured you and tickled up and down your sides. You entered yet again another fit of laughter, smacking her to tap out. You cursed yourself for this evil weakness. But being human, you knew she had to be ticklish as well.

“Oh big bad Wonder Woman~are you ticklish?” You asked, before tackling her and pinning her arms above her head.

“I’m not even touching you yet,” you teased, as she was already giggling like crazy. With that, you used your free hand to tickle her armpits, letting her experience the torture you just went through. You blew a big raspberry on her stomach while tickling her sides, which got a great reaction.

You finally let her up, knowing how bad it was.

“Maybe we have more in common than we thought. Shall we team up?” Wonder Woman asked jokingly.

“Yeah we should just go and use tickling as our new power,” you joked in reply.

“Oh I know you’d love to stay the villain though,” she teased, as you avoided eye contact and blushed.

“Knew it.”

—————————————————————————

If you made it this far and would like to support my writing or request a commission, check out my Ko-fi!

#wonder woman #wonder woman x reader #diana prince #diana of themyscira #ticklish!reader #ler!wonderwoman #ler!reader #lee!reader #tickle fic #dc fanfic #dcu #tickle fics

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toki-macross · 2 years ago

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This is the finished first page of my Batblobs! As well as a smol page of the bittybatblobs. So they got put all together for the little ones. This was super fun, and I will probably fill more pages another time.

https://www.redbubble.com/people/LilBitCreative/shop?asc=u

#batblob #batman #DC #Bittybatblobs #Batfam #this was fun #I'm tickled pink with the positive reblobs of the batblobs thank you!#creacher #bruce wayne #which is your favorite #my art #shameless plug

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surelysilly · 7 months ago

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i'm just making the rounds at this point haha

Cobblepot beckons Danny closer with a slight crook to his fingers, and a weak part of him bristles at it, but. Really, who is he to refuse? Gamely, he ambles over, the other staff's feelings going weird and vaguely uncomfortable. The man reaches out and ruffles Danny's hair, rounding the touch off with a firm pat to his cheek — he can't help but lean into the cold palm, to chase the comforting chill. Cologne stings his nose. “Good man,” Cobblepot says, pleased, but then clicks his tongue, tapping the underside of Danny's scruffy chin before withdrawing. “We do have facial hair requirements, however, do remember that. How much have you had to drink tonight?” Smiling limply, Danny says, “Only had one drink, promise,” and gets an arched eyebrow for it. “Sorry, boss. I'll clean up.” “See that you do. Dismissed.”

#dpxdc #dp x dc #an au of my au once more... who will i write a little treat about next lol #got scarecrow... penguin... maybe harley and posion ivy...#if an idea tickles my fancy... i just wanna write Danny more at his almost lowest of lows and yet somehow make friends with these guys #u kno... they're not the best people but they end up caring for Danny in the only ways they can even if they're just using him (and he them #litu au #silly snips

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devilfic · 6 months ago

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Prob, wayyyy too damn specific but I saw posts of Matt and I just rewatched The Batman (2022) and like I had this prompt of:

Reader is pushed away by Matt and decides to not fall with more vigilantes but runs in with Bruce and marries him? Maybe and it becomes some love triangle plot or idk

Idk what you could do with this, pls feel free to ignore it or modify. It’s just a weird ass crossovers of my two husbands.

at first I meant to humor you a bit with my thoughts on bruce and matt as very similar lovers but then it just turned into a throuple. walk with me:

it’s funny because matt and bruce have very similar self-destructive behaviors when it comes to relationships, but I think bruce is a bit more indulgent (whether he’d admit to that or not is another story entirely).

where matt is clearly insecure about if he can protect you—certainly he will fight until his last dying breath to do so but would rather you never be in danger to begin with—bruce is (and I'm especially thinking of an older, more experienced bruce), I think, unwilling to let you know that he’s just as insecure. mainly because failure cannot be an option. bruce also has much more at his disposal to protect you (cough cough money cough) and has backup plans for days. at this point in time, bruce would be more willing to let others in and have a healthier (?) way of maintaining relationships.

matt is, to the best of his ability, an ordinary man who strikes suddenly, sometimes recklessly, and thinks better within the throes of action. matt strikes me as someone who carries too many burdens to ever think a relationship with a civillian would work. he is a martyr like bruce, but I think where matt is in daredevil and where bruce is in my mind (years later, a little less cynical) are different enough to make them stand out.

that being said, I think matt would be hella suspicious of bruce because let’s be honest…. everything about him is a red flag LMAO. I can imagine matt playing mind games with bruce if they ever met, perhaps matt is representing a client who is suing wayne enterprises and oh, look, there’s you and bruce all cuddled up in the courtroom. matt listens for bruce’s heartbeat whenever he asks a particularly pointed question about his life but bruce has trained his heartbeat to be steady, his reactions natural. he gets one past matt.

and you think this man has some NERVE interrogating your new boyfriend when he’s the one who put you out. you almost let him have a piece of your mind but think better of it.

matt wonders if you like being bruce wayne’s. are you even able to still be you? the you that he truly knows?

needless to say, if they cross each other in cowls, matt will know it’s him instantly. I think it would sting matt to know that not only had you moved on to a man of much higher class, you’d also moved onto another nocturnal vigilante. one who, apparently, had no hangups about having you.

bruce also isn’t stupid. he’d done his research into the masked vigilante running around the neighboring borough of hell’s kitchen. it wasn’t apparent to him when he’d first met matt, but a little stalking research down the line and he’d put it together. they don’t reveal this to each other at first.

but later that night, bruce is holding you and wondering… is that your type? if it was by the simple hilarity of the universe that you ended up falling for him, right after leaving a man not too different from himself.

anon, I have a feeling that when you said love triangle, you really meant a love v as in bruce likes reader, matt likes reader, and reader likes both. but if I may talk my shit, I think these two might have a lot to like about each other. two vigilantes who operate by night and shadow, who have similar dedications to justice (matt’s being the idea of righteous and fair law, bruce’s being protecting the weak and innocent and rehabilitating or stopping the corrupt), two men leading double lives, two men as equally charming, and two men in love with you. bruce and matt find it hard not to see what you like in the other.

bruce befriends him. it’s kind of an accident the way he finds a kindred spirit in him, and at first it’s purely to keep an eye on this guy, perhaps to put together a contingency plan just in case. he starts sending nelson, murdock, and page cases in gotham that could use their legal advice, sending business partners and citizens alike to their door for referrals. matt isn’t sure what to do when they start getting a wave of new clients, all suspiciously right up their alley, but foggy and karen don’t mind the extra cash flow and matt struggles to find a way to not be okay with helping those in need.

matt returns the favor and starts training bruce on how to hone his other senses in combat. the two of them will spar for hours, only stopping if alfred were to come yank them apart or, god forbid, you come home early to find your boyfriend pinning your ex to the mat.

and you’re both horrified and fascinated to find that they get along really well. but you can’t just let matt back into your life after he’d all but slammed the door in your face. he’d given up on you. now he was weaseling his way back into your life with bruce—a happy life, might I add, although no less stressful—hanging around you like a dark shadow.

bruce isn’t sure how to feel about it either. he knows how much you loved matt, how much you still love matt, and he can tell matt is not over you no matter how much he waxes poetic about the greater good and why you two couldn’t really work out. bruce gets it, worries that maybe he should get it more and cut you loose too before something happens to you. it had always been their worry: that while they were off protecting the city, there’d be no one there to watch over you. and there was no one there to watch over you. once upon a time.

there is no organized discussion about it. bruce is less hung up about it than matt. it does feel odd, imagining him around you and it being… normal. inviting matt over for dinner with your permission, and sharing wine and heavy goodbyes as bruce pays a taxi to see him home safe. he considers the way you squirm at the table, trying to keep it friendly between you and matt but there is that ache in your chest that remembers this man differently. it feels disrespectful and rude to be friends with him now, having him around gotham. eventually bruce asks you as you wind down for the night, his rings clattering onto the dresser tray as you pull back the sheets, “you love him still.” well, he doesn’t ask.

you freeze, halfway into the sheets, unsure if you’d even heard him right, “I’m sorry?”

“matthew,” he casts a glance over his shoulder, “it didn’t really end between you. not on your end.”

“if you’re trying to accuse me of something-“

“I’m not. I can see it on you.” but bruce’s voice isn’t angry or mocking or blaming. it’s… oddly resolute. thoughtful, even. “I like him.”

“I… what are you saying, bruce?”

he crawls under the sheets, nonchalant, but he finds himself just a little (just a little) unsure. “I’m saying that… maybe the reason why he pushed you away isn’t a problem anymore,” he stares ahead, focused on the fireplace that burns low, “if you wanted him still. I wouldn’t mind it. I wouldn’t mind him.”

you almost can’t believe your ears. “and you like him.”

bruce takes a minute to shrug, as if he needed to roll it around in his mind one more time.

“do you… want us to be together? all of us?” you watch the reflection of the fire in his eyes, waiting with bated breath.

he turns his head to you, “if we can get the usher boy to agree.”

you have to have a long, long talk with matt. there’s tears and a little anger and a whole lot of uncertainty as you talk out your tumultuous parting but then, as matt’s guilt starts slipping in and he says he’ll stay out of gotham so that he doesn’t cause you more pain, you blurt it out. matt isn’t sure he’s heard you right. you have to repeat yourself, a bit more eloquently, “I said… do you want to be with me and bruce?”

he doesn’t immediately say yes. in fact, he takes a day or two to himself to think about it. he’s staunchly sure in the beginning that he will turn you down but the words do not form, the hesitance keeps him from calling. when he gets advice from foggy (who is twice as bewildered but all too excited by the prospect) about how to say he’s not interested, he writes it down and it just. doesn’t feel right. he finds himself rearranging the words in his mind to be softer, more… flexible. less “hard and fast no” and more “I just don’t know”. the more he thinks about it the less inclined he is to even SAY the word no. is it because it’d really, finally cut you out of his life? would he only be saying yes to have you again?

bruce would be there too, that’s the key thing. maybe it could start out as just him being with you and bruce being with you at the same time, but maybe that was too weird for him to think about. sharing you with someone else. he wouldn’t want to. but what would the alternative be?

he calls bruce to meet in hell’s kitchen where he feels safer. bruce is calm, not imposing in the least. he lets matt rant it all out and get his feelings in check. when he’s blown off all the steam, bruce just says, “if it comes down to it, there’ll be no hard feelings if it ends.”

“this is crazy.”

“you can say no.”

“yeah. I know.”

some time passes. bruce comes to stand beside matt sitting on the ledge of the rooftop, keeping his heavy gaze fixed on him. “they still love you.”

“I know.”

the two of them say nothing for a while. matt tries to focus on the city, as loud as it always is, but keeps zeroing in on the steady earnest thumping of the man’s heart right next to him. he is being honest with what remains unsaid, what you’d told matt days ago that he still struggled to believe. he tilts his head so, and bruce has known him long enough now to know that he’s thinking hard about what to say next, “I suppose you’ll have to take me on a date first. just so we’re all even.”

“is pinning you to the mat not courting enough for you?”

#usually in the dc trinity headcanons bruce is like the last one to agree to the throuple so him bringing up the throuple first tickles me #bruce wayne x reader #matt murdock x reader #bruce wayne x matt murdock #??? I guess???#dc #marvel #mjwrites #mjanswers

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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 3 months ago

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This Is Home

Welp since todays my birthday and I still am trying to work on an action pack fic featuring Dick and Bruce, I thought today might be my chance to showcase what I consider quality wise probably my worst fic I ever made; a blithering and shameful amount of family and adoptive family fluff and tooth rotting sugary sweetness that’ll make unicorns drool. I actually debated for years putting this one out in public because it’s not only fluffy as hell but it rather super weird so I best put up content warnings anyways for your sakes.

Thanks a lot to my buddy @confusedhummingbird for giving me the encouragement to put this one up and giving me the chance to edit it for making it less weird as heck

Constructive Criticisms are welcome and then some and I thank you for your considerations

Dedicated to my other mutuals @pin-crusher2000 @celaenaeiln @spider-jaysart @camo-wolf @lightdusk96 @moonundernostalgia @starlightbelle @adalineozie @wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever

Warnings: SFW Tickling, Family Fluff, Quasi Family Bonding

The moon shined brightly on the simple, brown painted trailer with few windows on it. It was a bright, cool and calm night all around. A few mud puddles from today’s earlier rain showers dotted some parts of grassy fields the tents and other temporary buildings are set on. The ambiance of owls hooting, hearty laughs from the roustabouts and even the chuckles from a variety of younger talents across the grounds are a true delight to hear for any visitor of this one area, let alone those who work and live their lives here. Cracking open the trailer door slowly, a woman with dark crimson follicles tied into a ponytail that reaches to her shoulders, clad in a simple black cotton t shirt with and gray sweatpants, takes one simple step out of the trailer doorway, closes her bright ocean blue eyes and inhales a nice whiff of that air through her nose. That old smell, whether from the decent sized cages of the animals or the burning embers of lighted juggling sticks, reaches in, bringing a satisfactory feeling. This is her home; this is her life; this is what Mary Elizabeth Lloyd-Grayson thought for what a nice evening looks like. Lo and behold, it truly was.

For about a good 20 something years by now, ever since an integrating of her family’s own carnival act with this place, Haly’s Circus always remains the one traveling show Mary finds herself being reminded that she’s a part of. She cannot be any more happier; ever since her childhood of practicing on the ropes and bars of the flying trapeze alongside her own mother and their relatives, Mary always dreamed of being part of the show, no matter her act’s place on the runtime, whether opening act or the grand finale. Here she was now; her family act being the grand finale thanks a combination of their truly amazing acrobatic talent, charisma and the fact the patriarch, her husband John, acts as second in command for this circus. Now while some might claim draconian bull on that last bit, it takes a brief history lesson in knowing the Graysons ever since their far back roots in the mid 1800s always played a role in making this circus operate and continue to entertain hundreds of thousands globally. John is simply the latest of them to inherit the legacy and the responsibilities placed on him. Or rather, the latest grown member of the Grayson bloodline to do so since through her love for him and their marital bond, there is one other Grayson.

“Hey! You get back here, Calvin!” speaking of whom.

Mary notes of the two bundles chasing each other right in front of the trailer door and can’t help but laugh sweetly. One young lad sporting a black mop of hair with her bright blue eyes, clad in a red tunic covering a green scaly leotard and on his feet green pixie boots, was her son Richard, or Dick for short. The eight year old was now in hot pursuit of a ten year old lad with sporting light brown hair with similarly brown eyes, clad in turn in a white t shirt with grey sweat pants and simple sandals on his feet. Both boys have a mischievous grin on their faces as they dart past Mary and make their way carefully scaling up the trailer’s walls up to the rooftops, no doubt their game of tag escalating once more.

As Calvin lightly tags Dick on their rooftop of the trailer and the two safely descend back to the ground before resuming the chase, Mary can’t help but sigh surprisingly sadly for the kid her son was hanging out with at this moment. Poor, poor Calvin; about two years ago, during their latest stop at Haly’s Circus’ home city of Gotham, the little guy approached their trailer door looking in more ways than one, pretty miserable. Not too long ago, the man who was his father locked the kid into a dog kennel for whatever bull reason. From what Calvin told them that man simply walked away and never came back, leaving the boy simply to live out the rest of his days in the cage with no chance for escape. Except beyond expectation and with some good luck, Calvin did escape. Noticing a small chink in the chain holding the kennel door in place, Calvin used a decent sized rock into pounding away that chink in a calm state before finally the chain collapsed. The kennel door swung open, allowing the then eight year old Calvin to make a run for it. The kid ran in the cold and desolate rain storm that poured over Gotham that night, far away from that damn cage until at one point, his legs can’t run anymore.

It was there Calvin came across the Flying Graysons’ trailer in the adjacent Gotham Memorial Park, as part of the circus preparing for their performances the upcoming weekend. Upon noticing the windows of the trailer with the lights on, indicating someone inside, Calvin at first was tempted to knock on their front door before realizing that maybe they won’t take him since he is for intents and purposes a complete stranger. So, he just lied next to the steps of the trailer door until the rain clears up. Or at least he was until suddenly the door opens, a six year old Dick Grayson peering his head outside the door and seeing the shivering, bloodied fisted and soaked Calvin Rose right in front of him. Now cracking the door slightly more open upon realizing who it was, Dick calls for his parents in a thick language Calvin doesn’t understand. Next thing he knows, the two parents almost immediately have Calvin walk in, Mary draping a thick warm blanket over his shoulders, John lightly telling him to sit at the nearby couch and Dick heating up a bowl of his mother’s chicken soup she made earlier just for him.

Ever since that night, Calvin became a very welcome addition to the greater family. Not only does he possess an amazing ability to escape from any trap and restraint on par with the great Harry Houdini, Dick had found a friend next to his age he can go to, someone who understands his own plights and words they way no grown-ups can. In a way, Dick had gotten a pseudo older brother that day. While Calvin’s escape act and the Flying Graysons’ trapeze have their own distinct places on the show time, those two are nearly inseparable.

A squeal belonging to Dick snapped Mary out of her thoughts. Looking to her right, she can see the two kids tussling with each other in the nearby mud puddle. She chuckles heartily as Calvin and Dick take turns pinning each other playfully, poking at each other’s ribcages and bellies and lightly slapping some mud on their faces. As the old saying goes, ‘boys will be boys’. Though, looking at her watch and taking of the time, it was indeed getting a bit late for the boys being boys. Wasting no time, Mary heads for her son’s bedroom, opening the dresser next to his bed, fetching out a clean black t shirt with grey sweat pants not unlike hers and his indoor sandals. Mary gets back to the door just as the two kids lay on their backs on the grassy field, panting heavily with smiles on their faces, covered head to toe in mud and just looking at each other before doing a fist bump. Taking it as her cue, Mary lightly knocks on the steel door of the trailer, drawing their attention.

“Alright you two, you should probably get to the showers. It’s almost 8 pm right now”

While Calvin might not speak lovari Romanes chib like Mrs. Grayson and Dickie can, he does understand it to get what they say.

“Really?” he asks.

“Uh huh”, Dick nods, “You better go first and…”

Mary lightly chuckles and presents the fresh clothes on her hand, “Actually Little Robin, while you two were having your brawl, I got these for you. No son of mine would wait for his chance to rinse off before his buddy does”

While Calvin was having a good laugh at the apparent blushing on Dick’s face, the latter almost shrugs it off and makes sure his hands are clean of mud before grabbing the clothes from his mother and makes his ways to the shower trailer. As Dick makes his way, Calvin gives a quick thumb up to Mary as he heads back to his own trailer to grab his own clean laundry. Or rather, right before he does so, he slows down his walking speed and has a pondering look on his face. Mary takes immediate note of it and walks over to him. The grass lightly brushes her bare feet as she reaches her right hand on Calvin’s right shoulder.

“Is there something on your mind, sweetie?” she asks with a tad bit of concern on her part. Being more or less a mother for him, of course she would.

Calvin brushes the toe of his sandal on the grass before having his brown eyes look up to Mrs. Grayson’s blue ones. “It’s nothing Mrs. Grayson, really just some thought about something but nah; don’t wanna bug you about it”

“Did you think about spending tonight with us, a sleepover?” Calvin’s eyes slightly widen a bit upon realizing Mrs. Grayson knew exactly what he was thinking. But before he can start trying to brush it off, Mary just gives him a warm smile and starts lightly ruffling his hair instead.

“Well,” Calvin asks before once more having a sincere look on his face as stares up to Mary, honestly expecting the worst, “can I?”

Mary almost wastes no time in giving an answer. “John’s out to town with Mr. Haly for tonight and we have a day off from practice tomorrow. So pretty much….Yeah, you can”

Calvin leapt into the air in joy with a fist in the air and was about to hug Mary before realizing how mud covered he was, instead simply rubbing the back of his head with slightly embarrassment. “Just make sure you get your laundry ready for your turn in the showers after Dick rinses up and try not to tell him if you run into him. How about we keep it a surprise?” Mary whispers the last part to him with a wink of her eye. Apparently, she has a bit of mischievous side too. With his own eye wink and a thumb up, Calvin darts back to his trailer. Mary walks back to the door, wiping her bare soles on the front carpet before steeping back in.

About half an hour or so later, Dick entered the trailer door, clad in his clean clothes and his jet black hair moistened though not nearly as much before Dick dried most of it with his towel the showers had. Mary notices however, of Dick preparing to just simply walk in before she gestures to him a certain something. Pointing to her soles, Dick gets that his mother says to wipe the soles of his sandals before walking in or take them off since while he avoided the mud puddles on his way back, the grass wasn’t going to do favors for this family trailer’s carpet. Rather than what he usually does in which actually involves wiping said sandals, Dick just lets them slide off his otherwise bare feet before stepping into the trailer. Dick makes then his way to the kitchen, climbing up the countertop right underneath the cupboards where the plastic glasses are then upon grabbing one, back flipping off said countertop and opening up the fridge door behind him for the jug full of simple water. As her son pours some of the clear liquid into his cup, no doubt for a drink before and/or after getting some sleep, Mary suddenly picks up on a few knocks on their trailer door. The pattern of said knocks is familiar; she knows who’s waiting at the front. Her surprise had arrived.

“Dickie, can you please get the door? I think there’s someone waiting for us”

With a quick salute, Dick raced back to the front door, proceeding to lightly open it, being on his guard while showing a friendly face just in case. Mary simply has a soft smirk in her face without even looking behind her to the scene playing out as Dick lets out an excited gasp for their visitor. There was Calvin, his hair similarly wet and now clad in a clean set of fleece pajamas with sandals on his feet, having a small backpack with his night stuff on his right shoulder and smiling equally as excitedly due to the look on Dick’s face. As the young Rose takes off his sandals out of courtesy before stepping inside, the little Grayson was able to piece together that Calvin will be crashing in with them for the night; looking back to his mother and getting a silent yet all too happy nod from her only confirms such. Dick also remembers it was a day off from practice for tomorrow and a weekend on top of that meaning that Calvin and he have the night to themselves.

Over the next hour, Mary can hear all sorts of chatter and noise coming from Dick’s bedroom, most of them was the two playing on Dick’s game system trying to either outdo one another if playing against each other or give each other aid and instruction to help each other if paired as a team. In the middle of their fingers slamming the controller buttons or hoping on and off Dick’s bed on a moment of excitement, the two engage in small talk on a variety of things. Whether it is the how the elephants can use some free roam every once in a while in spite of what kind of trouble they can get into should said elephants stampede on accident, which of these ‘superheroes’ is better, being either this ‘Woman of Wonder’ that apparently travels the world or Metropolis’ ‘Superman’. Both conclude though one thing: there’s no way this ‘Batman’ in Gotham can be real. Maybe he’s just a bedtime story to get the kids over there to behave like the Court of Owls or something. At one point, Calvin and Dick thought that maybe they can try combing their respective acts into one. Like say, Calvin is in a straight jacket suspended about 30 to 40 ft in the air while Dick stands by at a nearby platform with a trapeze bar in hand. From there, once Calvin of course frees himself from the straight jacket within a few minutes, Dick swings over to him, does the triple or even the quadruple flip and right as Calvin slips out and begins to drop from the height. When Calvin starts dropping by a single inch, He reaches out with his arms for Dick to catch him and swing them both back to safety. ‘The Great Swinging Escape’ they call it as Dick and Calvin laugh it off. Mary chuckles to herself when hearing that from her own room next door, actually finding herself intrigued and maybe with some heavy practice and a safety net for even their actual performance that can work. Of course, all parties involved will need a good convincing to Mr. Haly for that to happen.

By the time, an hour goes by; Mary can clearly hear her son and his friend apparently lacking any tiredness on their part. While they have the night to themselves, the two will have to start lying down for the night at some point. Those two are just full of such energy and stamina, only something than can tire them out can do the job. At least though, their energy finds itself expended on either their chatter with each other or Dick’s videogame.

Wait a minute….game, Mary thought to herself. She starts piecing something in her mind and thinking back to something. In particular, her childhood is what she thinks about…..hey yeah. She remembers that during her days as a Soaring Lloyd the way her own mother would tire her out. Her son’s maternal grandmother will play one type of game nearly every night up till her teenage years. It was a game of endurance and stamina. All needed were their family blankets, bits of string, a feather or two, their own hands, and a jar to place their bets, whether being money tips from their shows or necklace beads. One crux of this game though would mean someone who knows how to wrap blankets around a person that’s mostly inescapable. It cannot commence fully if the participant moves out of the way. Mary though of how her own mother trains the way she wraps her daughter in those blankets neatly and tightly enough to an extent Mary cannot simply run away should her endurance in this game fails but always felt as if she can just bail out if she wriggles enough for the blankets to loosen. To ensure the willing participant cannot escape one the flimsiest of movement and fully use their endurance, Mary will need someone who knows a thing or not about inescapable. What better choice than the Youngest Escape Artist in the World who just right now beaten Dick on their round on that videogame.

Mary calls out to the two after she can hear Dick’s game system turning off. “Alright you two, I think it be a smart idea to brush your teeth if I were you. You don’t wanna sleep with germs in your mouth tonight.”

“Aw, come on”, she can hear Calvin groan; “we really have to do it now? How about another hour? ”

“Well Rose, I didn’t say go to bed right away afterwards now did I?” Mary responds cheekily.

Calvin opened to reply only to realize on what he heard before she clarified herself. “Yeah, my bad Mrs. Grayson”, he says sheepishly and a soft chuckle.

Letting a chuckle of own in kind, Mary then calls to her son while in her room, looking through her necklace making kit for strong enough bits of string to use. “Richard, you go in first while your friend gets his toothbrush okay?”

“Sure thing, Momma” Dick replies happily before quickly turning to his friend, “I won’t take too long okay Cal?”

“Take your time, Dickie” Calvin says, “I can wait. I saw enough bad teeth around here that make my own teeth get cavities. Don’t wanna see you get it too” he remarks, making Dick laugh as the latter heads toward the trailer’s bathroom.

While Calvin looks through his travel backpack for that toothbrush, he notices Mary at the bedroom. Tellingly, she sports a bit of a smirk on her face. She recent has an idea, an idea for some mischief, and Calvin mostly has a role in it. At first, he sports a curious look on his face, thinking he’ll be the target for something. That immediately exits out of his thoughts as Mary approaches him regularly; no, what she has in mind is something completely different.

“Calvin, if you don’t mind at all, I need you help in something. It’s a little idea I have in mind for Dick but I’m sure you both are going to like this” Mary whispers excitedly to him, low enough in which Dick can’t hear them.

Calvin, now knowing that Dick will be the target instead of him, raises an eyebrow raised and a small smirk grows on his lips as well. “So, you do you have in mind Mrs. Grayson?”

“Well…” Mary says before almost muting her words via very softly stating them in his ear. As she explains her secret plan to Calvin in full detail, that smirk on his face grows into a more mischievous grin. Oh yeah, now that sounds like something he can do. As Calvin, nods his head, indicating a yes, Mary hands Calvin the piece of string she brought with her from her necklace set and begins loosening some of Dick’s blankets and bed sheets.

Around five minutes later, Dick finally steps out of the bathroom after rinsing off his teeth and makes his way back to bedroom. Along the way though, he can hears some whispered chatter between Calvin and his mother coming from there. He wonders what those two are up to since among the whispers, he can hear some light hearted laughter, meaning it was a plan alright. Most likely, it has him in the center of it. He might be only 8, but Dick’s not dumb. With a smirk on his face, he can try surprising his mother and his friend before they can do whatever they wish with him. Now stepping on his tip toes, Dick sneakily makes his way to the door to his room completely out of sight from his mother and Calvin, quietly standing next to the door out of sight. Should either his mother or Calvin start making their way out to check on him, he can unleash an ambush via a playful tackle and using his fingertips on their ticklish spots to pin them. As he spots Calvin making his way to the door after hearing his mother tell the former to check if he was doing okay, Dick snickers lightly, sticks to the shadows….

“Nice Try, Dickie!” happily exclaims Calvin while playfully grabbing Dick in a bear hug, causing the latter to squeal laughing, out of the shadows and onto his bedroom floor, trying to pin him. Of course having play wrestle him earlier tonight, Dick picks up on his friend’s pattern on how he pins him via pokes on his sensitive ribs. Not this time though as Dick cleverly slides out of Calvin’s reach and targets his own fingers on Calvin’s soles. Upon the first poke of that fingertip on his soft skin on his left foot’s arch, immediately Calvin yelps into a bubbling laugh of his own and topples face first onto the floor. Seizing the chance, Dick sits on his knees upon Calvin’s pinned legs, wraps his left arm around Calvin’s ankles, bringing these feet up to him and using his free hand, starts scribbling his fingers all across whatever spots on Calvin’s bare feet he can find.

While pinned and finding himself outmaneuvered by his younger counterpart, Calvin barely focuses on such a turn of events since those laughs are erupting out of his mouth like there’s no tomorrow. For good reason though, since out of all the places on his body he was sensitive, it was his bare feet. Now his friend goes all out with the velvet like skin on his soles, the pads of his ten toes and perhaps worst of all, the stems of said toes in which just tiny poke on them sets off a certifiable explosion of nerves being tickled all across Calvin’s body. Thankfully, before Dick’s free hand can make it to those stems on his toes, Mary cheekily tells her son to stop.

“Now, now Little Robin, let’s save tickling Calvin for a little later. We can’t have him pass out right now.”

Dick looks back to his mother with wide grin on his face before loosening his grip on Calvin’s ankles, letting his feet drop to the ground and giving the older boy a chance to breathe. It’s then though that Dick also notices his mother sitting on his own bed, more or less confirming what he had been hearing on his way back from the bathroom.

“So”, Dicks asks the two as they both smile mischievously picking up on the fact he’s onto them, “what do you to have in mind for right now?”

As Calvin grabs his toothbrush and makes his way to the bathroom for his own teeth brushing, Mary pats her hands on Dick’s bed, saving a seat for him. “Oh, nothing too big at all son; I just noticed both Calvin and you seem like you two can stay up all night if you want too, right?”

Dick nodded his head happily, “Yeah, Cal and I can stay up till the sun goes up Mom. There isn’t anything make us tired. No sir-ee.” That little boast more or less had Dick firmly in exactly where Mary wants him, easy prey for her little game. It was time to let the cat slip out of the bag for this one.

“Well, Little Robin, when I was your age, I thought the same thing on nights like this. So you would like to know what my mom did to me whenever I said I can stay up till to the sun came up?” she asks with a cheeky grin in her face.

“Nope, what was it?” Dick asks now genuinely curious.

Now for the bombshell, “Oh, Your grandma and I would bet something in a jar then she’ll have me wrapped up very tightly in the blankets.”

Dick asks, figuring out where this might be going, “Does the bet say something about how long you can last without getting too tired?”

Mary nods happily, as she fills in the blanks, “More or less, how long can you handle like say, your feet getting a good tickling until you either fall asleep or say you quit.”

Dick’s eyes widen with excitement upon hearing the answer but before he can act, Mary quickly slips her hand onto the soles of Dick’s right foot and begins lightly scratching it, ‘Like this!”

Almost immediately, a squealing laughter bubbles out of Dick’s mouth and he falls backward onto his bed, kicking his legs frantically to get his mother’s fingertips off his sensitive skin on that area. Quickly calming down and in-taking some air, Dick smiles happily towards his mother, now knowing the full picture of what Calvin and she have in mind. With that in mind, sure, he’s sensitive, the fact is Dick’s a Grayson through and through, he can handle soaring through the air on some ropes without a safety net below, and he can handle this for sure.

“So, want to give a try Little Robin?” Mary asks sweetly while cracking her fingers. “It’ll be perfectly fine with me if you don’t want…”

Rather than wait for her answer, Dick simply got underneath the blankets, place his head on the pillow on one end of the bed and stuck his two soft velvet soled bare feet out of the other end of the blankets where his mother was.

“Now just wait a minute Dickie” Mary says while playfully grabbing one of her son’s big toes lightly causing the latter to giggle lightly in turn, “I’d say we spice this up a bit by making it a game of who can last longer.”

Within the next minute, Calvin had stepped back into the bedroom out of his teeth brushing, noting almost immediately of Dick already in position. Now with his own smirk upon realizing what this means, he cracks his fingers and he too trudges unto the bed. Rather than go underneath the blankets, Calvin begins grabbing the ends of the bundle Dick is within and begins wrapping them up in a zigzag like pattern across the acrobat’s swaddled torso, arms and legs. Finally, after nearly two minutes of careful wrapping, he finishes off Dick’s fluffy restraints with a simply tucking in of a corner in his right side.

“Alright, Dick” Calvin says with his arms crossed and proud of his work, “try getting out of that.”

Sure enough, as Dick attempts doing so via wriggling around and trying to slide the blankets off him, nothing moved by a single inch. Indeed, Calvin’s restraining technique had worked, the little Grayson finds himself more or less completely trapped. All that Dick move at all were his head against his pillow and the toes of his two feet in which even then can only fan out or clench tightly, the latter of which he was doing now in anticipation for both his mother and his friend’s next move.

While Mary grabs a small empty nearby jar and placing it on top of Dick’s dresser, Calvin gets a small notepad and a pen to write down their bets. They are made rather quickly since let’s face it; they just want to get started already. Dick bets he can last for 1 hour of nonstop scribbling and poking on his feet, saying that should he lose, he owes his mother three straight nights in a row of doing the dishes after dinner and getting Calvin any ice cream next time they see a place to get some. Then the other shoe drops. “You have anything in mind you want to bet on for yourself, Calvin dear?” Mary asks. Cal’s face brightens up almost instantly since he knows he can participate as well. It was a chance he wasn’t going to back down on. Using a second small note paper, he write a bet of his own: Whereas Dick supposedly can last 1 hour, Calvin bets he can last 2 hours, should he lose, he owes the Graysons an entire dinner from a nearby take out joint one day and be the one getting ice cream for Dick instead.

Mary takes the two bets written in note paper, placing them that jar while Calvin hops onto the bed right next to Dick, getting his own set of blankets he brought with him to wrap himself in, and likewise poking his head out one end and his bare feet on the other. Mary tucks Calvin’s blankets around him tightly yet comfortably thanks to Calvin instructing her on the same technique he used to restrain Dick beforehand. Sure enough, like Dick, Calvin finds himself only capable of moving his head on his pillow and his ten toes, the latter only able to fan out or clench.

All preparations done, Mary finds herself staring at quite a sight indeed: before her blue eyes was what seems being a massive of well woven cotton and fabric sheets with two tousled heads poking out of one end and four perfectly formed feet out of the other. One pair of those feet was only a mere centimeter bigger than the other, with a tiny bit of callus on the balls and heels but otherwise was perfectly normal with their smooth curving arches and soft texture everywhere else for a growing lad like Calvin Rose. For the other pair, while slightly if at all smaller, the soles, arches and stems of the toes uniquely had a lighter skin tone in comparison to the tops, and with slightly longer toes in comparison to Calvin’s in which while not stubby, they had less space to poke those stems of said toes. Otherwise, Dick’s own feet, usually well maintained via applying skin lotion on them every other few nights before bed, had the same features as Calvin’s had. Overall, the two pairs of feet poking out of the mass of blankets before her made them all the enticing Mary’s mind to give in to them a nice motherly rub and then some. Frankly, with the addition of all twenty toes wriggling, fanning out and clenched in anticipation, really it was just those four feet saying ‘hey, give us your best shot, we dare you’ right to her. So, with her two hands descending on those four lovely feet, her left set upon Calvin’s and her right on Dick’s, Mary was indeed giving it her best.

She starts slow and methodical; running her index fingertips on the smooth soles of Calvin’s left foot and Dick’s right foot. The toes on each respective one clenched down followed by fanning outward and from there repeat slowly. Already, soft and bubbling giggles erupt from both boys, Calvin even clenching his mouth shut to prevent those precious giggles from escaping completely. Dick fared slightly worse with an ability in holding back the giggles already bubbling out of his mouth. Of course, though, Mary was just merely warming up. Next thing, the speed and number of her fingertips rubbing against the soles of all four feet grow per minute, leaving both Calvin and Dick now laughing slightly louder and far less ability to control it.

There was practically no spot on those soles, heels, or the balls of their feet left untouched by Mary’s darting fingertips. No matter how clenched or fanned out those four feet were, she continues onward. By now, the laughing from the two boys was at a consistent yet loud enough level that said laughter starts blending in a synchronized manner. From the looks of it to further this whole thing, neither showed any sign of fatigue so far. Mary does have to give Calvin and her son credit, about twenty minutes in, they have no quit in them. So now, it was time to escalate things a tad bit.

“Calvin, dear”, the mother asks while calming the frequency of her fingertips, softening a bit of the immense tickling and allowing the two to breathe a bit while still laughing their heads off, “do still have that string from earlier?”

“On…the…drawer….behind you…” Calvin was barely able to say in between his laughing, bopping his head to his right slightly to point Mrs. Grayson in that direction. Sure enough, there was the necklace just sitting on the corner of the piece of wooden furniture, perfectly intact. Originally, the string would find use for one person’s pair of bare feet on this occasion but now that they’re two, Mary decides to very quickly grab another one from her necklace in her room, giving the boys a chance to catch their breath. Not easy considering that scratching from Mary’s fingertips left phantom tickles they can still feel, causing them to still giggle intensely.

Calvin turns his head slightly to Dick’s direction, breathing out some giggles while having a slight smirk on his face. “Ready….to quit….Dickie?”

“…Nope…Cal….I…can still…last longer”, Dick responds with a small smirk of his own while also breathing through giggles

“I don’t know, Little Robin”, Mary hums happily as she re-enters the bedroom with two strings in her hands; “this next part will test you alright.”

Gently taking the two big toes of her son’s feet in her fingers, Mary carefully takes one of the string pieces and proceeds to wrap it around the toes. After as much loops as it can do, Mary toes the string in a nifty little knot. Now suddenly, Dick can barely clench his toes at all, leaving the stems completely vulnerable and practically defenseless. In a quick few seconds, Calvin too has a string piece wrapped and tied around his two big toes so now he too can barely clench his toes at all and now his stems are defenseless.

Sure enough, Mary cracks his fingers and presses a loving kiss on each of the boys’ temples before having a mischievous grin on her face as she goes face to face with four bare feet sticking out of the tightly wrapped blankets. Enter Mary’s fingertips as they begin lightly scratching within the toe stems of Dick and Calvin. To say the laughter came back with a vengeance, a tad bit louder than before and most sincerely full of energy would be a gigantic understatement.

Once more as before, no spot of those twenty toe stems and the toes themselves are untouched by Mary’s loving scratches and pokes. Both of the boys’ heads are now tossing and turning all over their soft pillows with little tears forming in their eyes. No matter hard the two Circus youths try holding it in by closing their mouths shut, their laughter still escaped. They are determined however; there is no way either of them will have to pay for the other one’s ice cream just because they lost a tickling game nor do all those dishes nor stand in line at next Red Robin restaurant they come across. As such, in spite of the utter expending of their energy and possibly their sanity, Calvin and Dick still do not quit.

About the forty-five minute mark of this whole thing, Mary still cannot help but admire the sheer amount of willpower the two boys have in the face of their bare feet receiving the treatment they get. So, once more, it was time to escalate things to basic all out war. The mischievous grin on her face going slightly bigger since now comes in that feather. Both Calvin and Dick are able to peeking through their otherwise shut eyes and suddenly their laughter changed it note slightly.

“Oh….no…” Calvin laughed out in somewhat dread.

“Oh yes” Mary proudly stated as the feather descends upon Dick’s right foot and Calvin’s left foot at the same time. Very lightly, the feather begins rubbing on the two pale feet. Already, the laughing is beginning to build up in volume. Sure enough, Mary strokes the feather slightly faster and accordingly, the laughter from the two reaches another decibel. From there, about fifty minutes in, the feather now strikes at random on both pairs of bare feet. If the feather stroke on the ball of Dick’s left foot, his laugh rises. If it strikes, Calvin right heel, his does. The tips of their toes prove being no exception since one glide across all twenty toes was enough to crank the laughter’s volume up a tad bit. As hard they try, neither Dick nor Calvin can clench their stout toes completely thanks to the strings tying their big ones. This happens while Mary’s fingertips dart around on spots the feather isn’t hitting.

Now at one hour and fifteen minutes, the nuclear option finally comes in, the feather now placed in the toe stems of both boys’ exposed feet. A simple stroke going rightward and back, rightward and back, up and down the stems, circling around the pads of the toes before coming back to the stems, rightward and…

“OK! OK!” screeches Calvin between his exhausted laughter, “I QUIT! I QUIT!”

Dick yelps happily in spite of his immobility in joy.

“I won! I actually won!” He yells, exhaustively yet ecstatically in his native tongue.

Mary has bubbling laughter of her own as she finally puts away the feather and loosens the strings on the boys’ big toes, finally giving their feet to move around more freely again. She leans over the winner’s tousled head and plants a few victory kisses on him, much to Dick’s slight embarrassment and Calvin’s light snickering.

Other than all that, both boys are just flat out exhausted. The scribbling, poking and feather stroking was apparently too much for their stamina to bear as Dick and Calvin both pant heavily and have small tears leak from their eyes onto the soft pillows they lie on. In between their panting, were still giggles since once more phantom tickles persist on their bare feet. Nonetheless those lingering nerves of theirs were fading out fast once they have a chance to be left be, yet so was the ability for the boys’ to stay awake as Mary can tell as she puts away the stings and jar containing their bets. Their panting had softened to deep and relaxed breathing as her ears can attest, just like how she felt once her mother stopped.

Remembering Calvin’s instructions on the blankets from earlier, Mary finds the one flap on both Dick and Calvin’s restraining bundles and gently tugs away, undoing all the tightening in one swift motion. Now the blankets are simply draped over each of the two, allowing their arms and legs underneath both the move freely. Not that they can though, given that one look on their faces, the two circus lads are starting to drift into deep and relaxing sleep.

“Looks…like (yawn)…I…owe…you…” With those words, Calvin was the first for sleep to claim as his eyes close, his breathing evens and his head tilts to the side with a peaceful smile on his face.

One quick kiss on Calvin’s temple and Mary pulls the folded part of his blanket to the bridge of his nose, doing so making the now asleep Calvin moan happily before shifting so that the blanket covers his entire face. Now, he was out cold. It looks like Dick was next.

Even though his eyes flutter to a slow close, Dick had a slight giggle as his mother drapes the blanket up and ruffles his black hair.

“I love you, Momma” Dick yawns dreamily “Good Night”

With a happy and proud sniffle upon hearing those words, Mary leans to give Dick one more kiss on the temple. “Good Night My Little Robin. Sweet Dreams”

Thusly, Dick eyes close completely and finally he falls into a deep and happy sleep as Mary covers his face with the blanket like Calvin has.

About five seconds later, then comes the soft snoring. Yep, both were completely dead asleep. Her game had worked.

Mary finally stands to get a good look at the two sleeping boys, completely covered by their respective blankets, the exceptions being only their crowns of their hair and most tellingly their bare feet on the other end. Normally, any other mother at this point would leave well enough alone, head to their own bed and close for the night. Mary certainly would do just that given her own tiredness kicking in. However, she always has a way to leave her mark on those she tickles. So there was just one tiny thing left to do.

She quietly and excitedly makes her way to her bedroom’s nightstand and after a good few seconds, finds what she was looking for. In her hands were a black marker pen and two cardboard tags with strings attached. Long story incredibly short, while her mother’s side of the family was filled with acrobats and circus folks, on her father’s side, their jobs were a tad bit…morbid. Medical examiners, surgeons, morticians, EMTs, funeral directors or in the case of Dick’s maternal grandfather and perhaps most frightening of all….a dentist; these were Mary’s cousins, aunts and uncles on that side of the family tree and while ultimately deviating from that career, she develops a sense of humor heavily inspired by it. So now both her more-or-less nephew Calvin and her son Dick were ‘dead asleep’ as evidenced by their light snores coming from underneath the blankets covering them, right? Well, as she writes down their ‘details’ on those two tags with strings, why not have them play the first part?

Mary finishes Calvin’s tag first and such with its attached string; she lightly as to not accidentally tickle him awake places it on the big toe of Calvin’s right foot. As to the question of where exactly Mary got such things, it was during a tour in London, during a day off, John and her out of morbid curiosity visited the nearby mortuary, and got the tags as souvenirs in the gift shop. It reads as such:

ATTACH TO TOE

NAME: Rose, Calvin

AGE: 10

GENDER: Male

ETHNICITY: White

WEIGHT: 45 lbs

HEIGHT: 4’ 11’’

FOOT SIZE: 5

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Brown

DATE OF BIRTH: 9/XX/90

PLACE OF DEATH: Bedroom DATE OF DEATH: N/A

CAUSE OF DEATH: Tickling Induced Sleepiness

MEDICAL EXAMINER: Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson

FUNERAL DIRECTOR: John Fredrick Grayson

COMMENTS: Do Not Disturb.

Calvin himself only let out a tiny giggle as the tag brushed very lightly on the sole of his bare foot but otherwise remained in deep sleep.

Sure enough, with that done, Dick too had a written on cardboard tag attached on his right foot’s big toe. While gently settling the string on the toe, Mary very lightly gave a tiny, playful brush to Dick’s sole, causing the acrobat to giggle lightly and very briefly clench his toes before they once more are still as if nothing happened. On his tag, it reads.

ATTACH TO TOE

NAME: Grayson, Richard John

AGE: 8

GENDER: Male

ETHNICITY: Romani

WEIGHT: 35 lbs

HEIGHT: 4’ 5’’

FOOT SIZE: 4.5

HAIR: Black

EYES: Blue

DATE OF BIRTH: 3/21/92

PLACE OF DEATH: Bedroom DATE OF DEATH: N/A

CAUSE OF DEATH: Exhaustion induced Slumber

MEDICAL EXAMINER: Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson

FUNERAL DIRECTOR: John Fredrick Grayson

COMMENTS: Sleep Well, Little Robin. Momma Loves You.

Her work done, Mary caps the pen close and finally makes her way to her bed. Catching a last glimpse of the two sleeping boys with their bare feet poking out of the blankets, snoring away in their dreams and toe tags attached, she gently closes the door. The bright moonlight shines through the bedroom window on the two blanket covered boys while they sleep. This is their home, this is their life, and this is truly, what a nice evening looks like.

#dick grayson #calvin rose #mary grayson #sfw tickle fluff #sfw #family fluff #adoptive family #de facto family #haly circus #content warning #quasi family #mother and son #family bonding #nightwing #talon #dc comics

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whereibeme · 10 months ago

Note

Hii, I was wondering if you could draw lee!raven w/ ler!starfire (like getting her back or smth lolz) but if you don’t feel like drawing, then ur head canons for the titans please :>

Thank you so much for requesting me, Anon! 🎶

Enjoy <3

I'm actually aliveee (kinda)

#tickle art #teen titans tickles #does your back hurt from just looking at this #aaaa i'm getting so busy this year for no absolute reason!!!#ah anywayyy! first art of 2024!!#sfw tickle community #dc tickle

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august-anon · 2 months ago

Text

i feel like speedsters would be absolutely diabolical ticklers. quick fingers wiggling on what feels like every spot at once because of how quick a speedster can move. fingers able to move fast enough to literally vibrate into your ribs or stomach. also, any pre-tickling chases would just be them toying with you because they can catch up to you before you can blink, but theyre deliberately going slower just to mess with you and taunt you

diabolical

#i dont know any speedsters well enough to write them into tfics yet #but you can bet i will at some point lol #dc tickle headcanons #dc tickling #tickle headcanons #my tickle thoughts #queue

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city-tickles · 1 year ago

Text

Harley Quinn has a lot of spots!

Source: Harley Quinn issue #33

#tickling #ticklish #mainstream tickling #dc tickling #tickle art friday #tickle art #comic book tickling

182 notes · View notes

dovakiinwitcher · 9 months ago

Text

Roy's Little Experiment

It had been a loooong day. Then again, that could be said for every day in Gotham. Robberies, muggings, drug deals-- Jason had seen everything short of murder.

Perhaps that made it a successful day.

Even so, he was exhausted. It was such a relief when the bunker he currently shared with Roy came into view. (Technically, they also shared it with Kori, but she was off-planet at the moment.) Either way, Jason was just happy to be home, however temporary or empty it may be.

The lights were mostly off, which was likely for the best; he could feel a headache coming on. The moment he was inside, he pulled off his helmet, shaking out his hair and running a hand through it. He tossed the helmet and his jacket onto the old couch they'd fished from the dump, before making his way towards the only room emitting a faint glow.

It was relatively small, with a single frosted-glass window high up in the wall, leading out into an alleyway above. The bunker was underground; better to remain undetected. The walls themselves were solid concrete, though riddled with cracks. The ceiling leaked when it rained, so there were a few buckets or bowls scattered beneath the heavy stains. Everything in the room had to be strategically placed in order to remain dry.

Despite the rundown, ramshackle foundation, this was their work room. Tools and spare parts were carelessly left about; finished and half-finished projects were stored in stacked boxes away from the leaks; everything was disorganized in an orderly fashion.

And there in the middle of everything, sitting at a long table and tinkering with some kind of gadget, was the reason Jason had gone to that room in the first place.

Roy was hunched over, his brow furrowed in concentration. His eyes shined as he worked, fascination and determination emanating from him.

Jason rested against the doorframe for a moment, affectionately watching him deep in his current fixation. A small smile slipped onto his face; he's so beautiful, he thought to himself.

Roy finally caught notice of him out of the corner of his eye. Turning in his swivel chair, he grinned brightly at the man in the doorway.

"Heya, Jaybird," he greeted, setting down a screwdriver. Upon taking in Jason's visible exhaustion, he opened his arms invitingly. "C'mere, you."

Gratefully, Jason wandered over and sat by Roy's feet, laying his head on his lap. His thighs were warm and soft, comfortable like the best pillow Jason had ever rested on in his life. Although, that wasn't the only part he was looking forward to.

As Roy resumed working, one of his hands played with Jason's hair, gently carressing his scalp. Jason sighed contentedly, relaxing into his soft touch. Roy's nails lightly scratched behind his ears, chasing away that initial headache.

This was one of the few moments when Jason could let his guard down. His mind fogged over, devoid of any stressful thought, focused only on the gentle tingles awarded to him by Roy's hands. It was bliss; free, unburdened bliss.

Jason wrapped his arms around Roy's torso, pulling himself slightly closer, melting into him. His warmth sent a wave of calm over the undead outlaw, the strong scent of whiskey and motor oil filling his nose. He felt light as air right here, like putty in Roy's hands; nothing could ever harm him again, so long as he remained.

A low, contented rumble in his throat prompted an affectionate laugh from the archer.

"Did you just purr?" He chuckled, running his thumb over Jason's jaw.

"Mmph," he grunted in response, too bleary to form words. Roy laughed again, an angelic melody to Jason's ears.

"Someone had a long day, huh," he teased. He lightly traced his nails over Jason's neck, inducing a shiver through his spine. "At least this means you'll have no trouble sleeping tonight."

"...'s alright, now that 'm with you."

Pink dusted Roy's cheeks as he registered the uncharacteristically sweet words; he really was tired. A fond smile tugged at his lips as he gazed at the dark-haired man in his lap. He's so beautiful, Roy thought.

As he dragged his fingers slowly back up Jason's neck, he felt a light trembling. It took him a second to realize that it was not the ground shaking, but Jason. A twinge of concern sparked in his mind, though the shaking stopped once his fingers reached Jason's hair again.

That was... interesting.

Peering at what he could see of Jason's face, he repeated the motion. Jason's shoulders tensed ever so slightly, shaking beneath his touch. His ears burned red, and a reluctant smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Out of curiosity, Roy continued to trace his neck, watching his reactions closely. When he'd stop, so would Jason's trembling shoulders. Conversely, when he continued...

A puff of laughter escaped the typically-stoic man, his shoulders hunching to protect his sensitive skin.

Aha. A slow grin overtook Roy's face, gleeful at this realization. He's ticklish.

Somehow, for as long as the red-head had known Jason, he'd never once considered it, much less tested or asked. Even while at the manor, none of his several siblings had ever tickled Jason in Roy's presence.

That didn't matter at the moment; no, for the moment, Roy had him right where he wanted him.

"Jason~" His voice had a sing-songy cadence to it. The man tensed as Roy freed up his other hand, then started gently kneading into the knots in his shoulders. "Are you hiding something from me?"

To his amusement, Jason squirmed a little, though didn't move away. With just the tips of his fingers, Roy traced shapes into his back. Lightly, he clawed his nails up Jason's spine, watching in satisfaction as he started shaking again, cracking a rare smile.

"Gosh, you're so tense," Roy teased, now gently tapping his fingers one at a time out towards Jason's shoulder blades. The latter tightened his grip around Roy's waist, hiding his face deeper into the mechanic's thighs. "You should really relax a little."

Roy experimentally skittered his fingers under Jason's arms. They immediately clamped down, pinning his hands there. A small smirk spread across the red-head's face as he continued to lightly wriggle his fingers in the space.

This time, he got another breath of laughter as Jason tensed against him. He squirmed up, away from Roy's lingering hands, but they only fell to tweak his ribs.

Finally, Jason had to pull back, letting go of Roy and leaning away. "Quit beheing a dihick," he warned, nervous giggles slipping into his words.

Roy only moved out of his chair to push Jason in response, making him lose his balance. The second his back hit the floor, Roy straddled his pelvis, a devious grin adorning his features.

"You haven’t seen me be a dick, yet," he replied, hovering his fingers over Jason's stomach. The red-faced man below hugged himself protectively, more nervous giggles spilling over his lips. Roy cocked his head. "I'm not even touching you."

"Shuhut up," Jason retorted, hiding his face in his hands. That unintentionally left his torso open and defenseless. Roy took advantage of the opportunity, fluttering his fingers over his stomach.

Jason's hands shot down to grab Roy's wrists, though it did little to halt the fingers from digging into his hips.

Roy couldn't help but laugh along as Jason threw his head back and arched his spine. His cheeks puffed, and he squeezed his eyes shut to keep in his own laughter. The blush had spread over his ears too, now, only making him cuter in Roy's humble opinion.

"I can't believe you would hide this from me, Jaybird," he teased, pinching his way up Jason's sides. Clearly, the grip on his wrists tried to hold him at bay, but every little poke drained the strength from Jason's arms. "I mean, look at your face! You're so cute~"

"Stohohohop thahat!" Jason protested, shaking his head defiantly. "Ihihi am nohohohot!!"

"Aw, don't say that about yourself, Jay." Roy tugged his shirt loose from where it was tucked into his pants, slipping his fingers beneath the cloth. A startled yelp escaped Jason as he tried to push his wrists away (unsuccessfully). "You're absolutely adorable."

His fingers traced over Jason's defined abs, drawing out those giggles from before. He enjoyed how Jason jerked and trembled when he continuously poked up and down his sides.

"Ahahack!!" Jason squeaked, hunching his shoulders. "Quihihit being so mehehean!"

"I can't believe how ticklish you are, seriously." Roy ignored his plea, dancing his fingers over Jason's belly button and hips. "You're almost as red as your helmet right now! Oh my gosh, this is amazing."

With a sudden burst of strength, Jason surged forward. He bucked his hips to throw Roy off balance before grabbing his shoulders and rolling him over, switching their positions. Pinning Roy's wrists on either side of his head, he grinned devilishly down at the startled red-head.

"What about you, huh?" Jason's husky voice sent a shudder through Roy's body, and he stared wide-eyed up into his determined grey irises.

"U-uhm, I- what a-about me?" Roy swallowed hard, breaking away from Jason's intense gaze.

The dark-haired man's grin widened, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "How ticklish are you, Speedy? Why don’t we find out, hm?"

"Wahait, wait, I'm sorr-EEEEE!!!" Roy screeched as Jason's hands darted down to his underarms, digging into the soft skin. "Jahahay, plehehehease!!"

"What's the problem?" Jason teased, leaning his face closer to the squirming mechanic beneath him. "Can't take what you dish out?"

"Nohoho!!" Roy shook his head frantically, trying to wriggle out from under Jason's weight to no avail. "St-*hic*- stohohohop ihihit!!"

"Aww," Jason cooed, moving his hands down to Roy's hips. His thumbs kneaded into the crevices of his pelvis, eliciting a squeal quickly followed by hiccup-riddled giggles. "Who's red now, you little shit? Huh? Who's red now?"

"I haHAte yohohou!!" Roy's voice cracked as he pathetically batted at Jason's hands, which were now quickly traveling up his sides.

"Feeling's mutual, punk." There was a new glint in Jason's eyes as he plunged his fingers back into Roy's underarms. The red-head squirmed and thrashed beneath him, desperately kicking his legs. He threw his head back against the floor, gritting his teeth as he tried to retain some semblance of dignity.

With his neck now exposed, Jason seized the opportunity. He took a deep breath, then buried his face in the crook of Roy's neck, blowing a loud rasberry into it. The volume of that was nothing compared to the volume of Roy's shriek, which reverberated off of the exposed water pipe attached to the ceiling.

"NAHAhahoho!!" He writhed under Jason's touch, nuzzling against his cheek to try and push his head away. Jason didn't budge, peppering little kisses over his neck and jaw before once again blowing into the crook of his neck. "Dihick!! Yohohou're such a dihihihick!!"

"You started it," Jason retorted against his skin, now nibbling at his ear. His hands slipped out of Roy's underarms and down his ribs, dancing in the little crevices between each bone. "I'm simply returning the favor."

"Jahahay, plehehehease!!" He begged, pushing against his chest. "Cahan’t breheheheathe!!"

"Alright, alright," Jason sighed, sitting back and crossing his arms. Roy hugged himself, still giggling uncontrollably. "Now, what have we learned?"

Roy regained his breath, the giggles slowly puttering out. "Fuck around and find out?"

Jason planted a kiss on his forehead before unstraddling him and rising to his feet. "Pretty much," he shrugged, offering a hand. Roy took it, pulling himself up. Jason tugged him closer, wrapping a hand around his waist.

Roy rested his hand behind Jason's neck, tipping his head to lean his forehead again his own. "You're cute," he teased.

Jason slipped Roy's hand out from behind his neck and kissed the palm, closing his eyes. "And you're a little fucker who doesn't know when to quit."

The red-head laughed, rolling his eyes. "Right, the stubborn one here is me."

"What's this, an attitude?" Jason taunted, opening his eyes to peer at Roy. "Try me, Speedy; see where it gets you; I can go for round two."

He tweaked his hip, and Roy jumped away. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he grinned, catching Jason's wrist.

"Uhuh, I'm sure.”

#DC #batman #batfamily #jason todd #roy harper #jayroy #red hood #arsenal #sfw tickling community #tickle content #tickle fluff #tickle fic #tickle fight #t word community #t word #t word content

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