#do they actually tickle them

[justalilgiddybibs]

ok but how do voice actors record tickle scenes

[home-of-the-squirmle]

Boyfriends of Progress

[kacievvbbbb]

You ever think about how Mihawk definitely does not hear his name alot?

Like there are probably only 2 people in the entire world that consistently refer to him by name. To the rest of the world he’s just an epithet. He might as well have no real name for as little as he hears it.

He’ll hear it at introductions always preface by his epithet, he’ll see it in the bounty posters and notice it in the history books. But barely anyone will ever calm him that. Just a pink headed ghost girl and the red headed half of the most complicated situationship panning 20 years.

You ever think about how Shanks probably has a thousand and one nicknames for Mihawk he cycles through at a whim but maybe Mihawk’s favorite will always be the soft way in which Shanks calls out his given name like that’s all there is too it like there’s a Mihawk that exists all on its own. No matter the situation Shanks calls him Mihawk and he has his full attention

[ministarfruit]

bad ending

[jannecapelleart]

listen guys i have my criticism of season 2 but the ed&izzy aspect does appeal to the part of my brain that likes angst

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Hey!! For your next fic could you do Leo and Mikey angst

It came be 2012, MM or rise

~ 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ~

💙🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @tmntalways 💙🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚒, 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍!!! 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚘 ☹️💔…𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 💖💕💘💞🩷!!! 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌��𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 😅👍🏾! 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍— 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 🫠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟸𝟾𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍…𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍, 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 '𝚞𝚗'. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕? 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz

@savemeafruitjuice @rice-cake-teen10 @mistyandsnow

@skyloladoodles @itzsana-kiddingmenow @titters-and-tingles

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝚋𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!!

𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝙳𝙷𝙳 𝚊𝚗𝚍/𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ☺️💞💗💓💕

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Mikey couldn’t do anything right now. Like…anything.

Well…perhaps he was being a bit too dramatic. He was breathing. And he was fidgeting with his squishy cube. So saying he wasn’t doing 'anything' wasn’t entirely true.

Right now he just…couldn’t do anything…productive. 

For example, the box turtle tried making his favorite dishes and deserts! But that endeavor just ended up being a huge mess in the kitchen…and leaving the youngest turtle with a bunch of unappetizing food. 

Which he fed all to Raph by the way. 

Some would call that choice of action cruel but Mikey would just call it 'using his resources'. 

Besides, it’s not like the eldest minded at all. He said, and I quote: 'It has a nice…crunchy feeling to it. Did you put some of Don’s inventions in this?'

Which honestly got a couple of chuckles out of the smallest turtle teen of the bunch.

Then, Mikey tried skateboarding! But for once in all his 14 years of living…it was just utterly boring. 

And after all of that nonsense, Mikey then finally tried reading a comic…but he was too unfocused to even get to the second page…

But what was really new? Mikey could never focus on jackshit even if said jackshit hit him right in the shell. 

His brothers and sister would always have to remind him to stay focused or 'not do this' or 'not do that'.

For example, a couple days ago Donnie had to kindly remind the box turtle (well…as kindly as Donnie could be anyway…) to brush his teeth.

To. Brush. His. Fucking. Teeth. 

And honestly? Having to be reminded to do that was really embarrassing. And the orange banded teen knew his brother didn’t mean to humiliate him internally…but…yeah.

And it’s not like the softshell was wrong either! The youngest turtle just couldn’t freaking accept that he himself couldn’t do such a simple task in the morning. 

But literally every task he completely fails to do is just utterly simple ones!

Like cleaning his room or not forgetting things or even keeping track of time! 

…And the sad part about all of it was Mikey just honestly could not understand how his family haven’t gotten sick of his annoying tendencies…

And let’s be for real here…that was basically all of his tendencies. 

The box turtle groaned loudly in his room, slamming his whole body on his bed as he screamed into his pillow. 

There had to be something he could do instead of just wallowing in his own self pity…

And one of those options could not consist of bothering his family with his random bad mood. They had to put up with him 24/7…the least he could do was give them some space.

The youngest then glanced at his drawing notebook hopefully…

…One little sketch of something random wouldn’t hurt, right?

The amber eyed teen reached for his notebook, grabbing a pen from his drawer as he started to sketch his desk because why the absolute fuck not? Based on the objects he’s drawn in the past…sketching a simple desk should and will be easy, right? Right. 

That was until the orange banded teen’s pencil tip broke. But it was fine! He could just re-sharpen it, right? Right.

That was until the youngest realized he had absolutely no clue where his sharpener was due to the fact his room looked like a pig stie. And there was no way he was looking for it in…that whole situation. 

…The situation he created in the first place. 

Michelangelo layed on his bed with his face staring at the ceiling in frustration, he ran his fingernails along his arms, not making really deep cuts with them but going deep enough for it to hurt a bit.

Like a reasonable turtle would, Mikey should probably get one of his stress toys…or better yet, another pencil!

But let’s be for real here…he’d most likely find a way to fuck that up too.

Suddenly, there was a small, quiet knock on Mikey’s door but…in all honesty? He just wanted to crawl into his shell and sob for the next hour and a half. Letting out a niiiiice and quick 'come in' would take way too much energy. 

The box turtle let out a soft grunt, letting whoever was on the other side know it was a-okay to come in.

Abruptly, Leo peeked in the room, a wide smile plastered on his face as he closed the door, “Damn, Mikester…it looks like every single natural disaster went through your room…”

“I’m cleaning it.” The youngest grumbled to his brother.

“Really? You sure about that, little bro? Because if my memory serves me correct (which it in-fact does), you said that last week. And the week before that…and the week before—“

“I SAID I’M FUCKING CLEANING IT!!!” The orange banded turtle snapped, sitting up on the bed to glare at his immediate older brother before slowly realizing what he just did. 

The youngest’s heart dropped as he looked away from his brother. The orange banded mutant’s eyed widened as silent and small tears ran down his face. He covered his mouth as his other hand turned to a fist, his nails unforgivingly digging into his palm.

“I-I’m sorry…I’m s-sorry…I-I’m so s-sorry…!” He started, rocking himself back and forth before stopping as he was met with a warm embrace. Leonardo hugged him gently but firmly, rubbing the other’s shell in a comforting hold. “Woah woah…! Bud, you have nothing to apologize for…” The slightly older teen said as he rested his chin on the top of his baby brother’s head.

“L-Like h-hell I don’t. I-I just screamed a-at y-you for no reason…” Michelangelo wobbly said. “You were just trying to lighten the mood but I just had to make everything harder like I-I always do…!” 

“Mikey—”

“I-I always do this. I-I’m so f-fucking s-sorry Leo…”

“Mikester…I-I appreciate the apology but it seriously isn’t necessary—”

“You’re probably so sick of me and so angry at me. I-I’m sorry I just—”

“Mikey!” Leo gently yelled to get the other’s attention, squeezing the smaller turtle’s hands as he stared straight at him with pleading eyes. “Do I look mad?”

“…N-No.”

“Do I sound mad?”

“…No.” 

The second youngest sadly smiled, “So what are you apologizing for, hm?”

“…I-I…dunno…I-I just…I just felt I needed to apologize…” The box turtle mumbled as he looked at his hands. The blue banded turtle sighed, slowly getting out of the hug so him and his little brother faced each other. The slider rubbed the other turtle’s palm with his thumb comfortingly, “…Do you wanna talk about it, baby bro?”

The leader in blue was just met with silence…which he could honestly work with.

“Angelo…you know you can tell me…anything, right? Like…anything. Although, it doesn’t have to be me you talk to about it. It could be Raph or Don or April or even Dad or Draxum! I just…don’t want you sitting here and bottling up the way you feel…” 

Silence. Leo continued.

“You’re always there when we need you, Angel. Whether it’s to vent or to just ramble about shit, you’re just…always there. We don’t tell you this enough but we appreciate you always being someone we can lean on…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“But…you do know you can lean on us too, right? Comfort goes both ways and I can see you’re hurting, buddy. So please…if you need to talk to me…I’m right here.”

Mikey sniffled, squeezing Leo’s hand, “I-I d-dunno. Today is just…weird. This whole week has just been…weird.” Leo nodded, giving his brother his full undivided attention, “How so?”

“I just…haven’t been able to do anything…” The smaller teen admitted.

“What do you mean?” The taller teen inquired. 

“I haven’t been able to do…anything. Like, I can’t draw, cook or even skateboard! Me!!! Not being able to skateboard— isn’t that crazy?!” The amber eyed turtle laughed bitterly.

“And it’s not like I can’t do it. I’m perfectly freaking capable of doing it in the right amount of time I want but my brain just. won’t. let. me!” 

“I keep procrastinating and not doing the stuff I want to do and I have no idea why! I’m tired of just putting things off and being this way! I want to do things without having to ask you guys for help or to remind me or to relate it with a hyperfixation that I have!” Mikey hiccuped, a new wave of tears rolling down his face as his hands shook. 

The amber eyed teen sniffled, refusing to look at his immediate older brother at all right now because…holy shit he just overshared a whole lot…

Like…a whoooooooooole freaking lot.

“…That sounds like you.” Leonardo shrugged. 

In a state of just shock and confusion, the box turtle pulled his hands away from his brother, looking up at him as lime green eyes met amber ones. “I…what…?” Michelangelo murmured.

“I said that sounds like you.” Leo said again casually as Mikey glared at him, “Yeah. I heard what you said but that isn’t helpful.”

“I’m just being honest with you, Mikester.” Leo said, “Just…let me explain, okay?”

“…You have five minutes before I kick you out of my room.” 

“Deal.” The lime green eyed mutant commented, “You can’t draw, cook or skateboard right now. You’re procrastinating and not doing the stuff you want to do in the time you planned…is that correct?” 

Michelangelo sent deathly daggers to his brother— which the other wasn’t phased by at all. This time was probably the best time to crawl in his own shell and just sob his eyes out because what kind of dumbass question was his dumbass brother asking him?!

“…Yes.” The orange banded teen mumbled. 

“And…why are those bad things?” 

“WHY?!” The box turtle huffed out a laugh of annoyance, “Pfft— you’re asking me why. Maybe it’s because it’s annoying?! Maybe because it’s frustrating to deal with and I don’t want to burden you guys with my problems?! Maybe because I don’t want to fucking feel or be this way?!” The youngest shouted, breathing heavily as he finished his rant. 

The box turtle looked away again, silently cursing at himself for getting annoyed so easily. “Mikey.” Leo started again, “Your being too hard on yourself, okay? No one is expecting you to be at your 100% all the time.” 

“What you just described to me; you being able to not focus or you getting bored easily or procrastinating with stuff is…literally you. You’re just being you.” The slider explained as he held his baby brother’s hand in his. “And I get it. It’s hard to deal with it sometimes and it’s going to be hella frustrating. Like…super borderline frustrating. But you can’t shun them away and just…try to ignore them, bubs…”

“Let’s take moi for example. I’m impulsive, I talk loud and lose things daily. Those three things don’t make up my whole personality but it would be super weird and off-putting if I just…didn’t do or have those three things, right?” 

The youngest giggled wetly, “Yeah…it would. A-And by the way, I’m still waiting for you to find that glittery pen kit I gave you…”

Leonardo groaned loudly and dramatically, causing the other teen to giggle louder, “I’m looking for it, okay?! It’s in my room…somewhere.” The taller mutant mused, “But anyways…back to you. You procrastinate, you relate things to your hyperfixations and you can’t do some of your favorite tasks from time to time…those are some traits that make up you, is it not?” 

Mikey sniffled, rolling his eyes playfully due to the fact he knew damn well where this was going, “Yeah…” 

Leo smiled softly, seeing his younger brother was starting to get his point, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I know sometimes it’s hard to deal with the things you described but you have us for that.” He said as his smile turned to a grin. 

“You can come to me— to us— anytime. We love you for who you are…your flaws and all and we just…I-I need you to know that we love you so so much—!” The slider was cut off by a sudden abrupt embrace from the box turtle. The orange banded teen sobbed into the other’s shoulder, clutching the taller turtle like a lifeline. 

“T-Thank you…” The box turtle wobbly said through tears.  

“Of course, Angel.” Leo said as he hugged his baby brother back, “I love you.” He said as he kissed the other teen on the head.

“I-I l-love you too…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Tell your thoughts to shut up.” Leo said as he lightly poked Mikey in the forehead numerous times. The two were sitting on the box turtle’s bed just simply…relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Michelangelo was sitting in between his older brother’s legs as he had his shell to his brother’s plastron.

Leonardo hugged his brother protectively, resting his chin on the top of the box turtle’s head. “What do you mean?” The youngest giggled out. “I can hear your thoughts, man. You’re not bothering me or disturbing me in any way, shape or form, alright…?” 

The amber eyed turtle nodded, squeezing Leo’s hand, “Y-Yeah…I know...” 

“I’m choosing to be here because I love you. I don’t feel obligated to be here, okay? You’re not annoying and you, neither your problems are a burden…okay?” The slider said reassuringly, “It’s okay to ask us for help…and we don’t mind reminding you to do things…okay?” 

“You’ve said ‘okay’ like, fifty times…”

“Mikey.” 

“Mhm…yeah yeah…I gotcha…”

The elder looked at his brother skeptically, resting his chin on his little brother’s shoulder so they made solid eye contact, “I want you to say it.” 

“…Say what exactly?”

“I want you to say that you are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” 

“You are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” Michelangelo grinned smugly. Leonardo glared at the youngest’s interpretation to his statement, “Mikey, you know exactly what I meant.” 

“I said what you wanted me to say…so…” The amber eyed teen trailed off.

“Michelangelo.” The slider said in a warning tone as he poked the other’s side. The box turtle squeaked at the unexpected touch, trying to stop his immediate older brother from doing it again but his brother had a strong but gentle grip on him…

Then the smallest turtle came to recognition that he was stuck in a potential tickle hug with no way out…

…How wonderful. 

“L-Leeheeo…doohoo nahat.” The orange banded mutant warned through his giggles, said warning not seeming too threatening due to the fact he was already laughing up a storm. The leader in blue raised a brow, poking the other’s side repeatedly, “I just want you to repeat what I said…in the first person.” The taller teen specified.

The smaller turtle squirmed in the hug, small frantic giggles pouring out of his mouth. This…really wasn’t how he was expecting his day to go. Just about an hour ago, he was wallowing in sadness about the stuff he hated about himself, to talking about it with his brother, to now getting tickled by his brother.

…So could he really complain about how things turned out?

…Yes. Yes, he absolutely could.  

“Leeheeon! Plehease dohon’t!” The youngest squealed as one of his brother’s hands hovered over his stomach. Mikey held onto the other’s wrists, trying to stop his elder brother from tickling him but his small attempts ending up to be all for nothing as Leo effortlessly tickled his stomach with one hand.

“LEEHEEHAHAHA!!” Michelangelo laughed wholeheartedly, swatting at his brother’s arms. The lime green eyed turtle cooed at the gesture, now using both of his hands to attack the youngest’s plastron, “D'aww…look at you giggling your head off~! You’re my adorable little bundle of amazingness, aren’t you~?”

The smaller teen shook his head, a faint blush appearing on his face, “STAHA— squeal N-NAHAHA!”

“What~? What was that?” The blue banded mutant asked as he kneaded the box turtle’s hips. “GYAHAH— squeal SHIHIHIT! COHOME OHAHAN!!!” The amber eyed turtle cried frantically as he kicked his legs on the mattress slightly. 

The youngest squealed with laughter, curling in on himself as he slumped in his big brother’s hold. Leonardo just sighed fondly at the action, wrapping the other in another hug as he raspberried his neck. “LEEHEEHEE!! PLAHAH— squeak NAHAHAT THEHERE squeak PLEHEASE PLEHEASE— squeak!!!”

“Not there~?” The elder lightly mocked, “What about…here~?” He mused as he used his hands to scribble all over the younger turtle’s ribs. Mikey cackled, shaking his head to try and at least subside the tickly feelings.

“NAHAHA— squeal AHAHAHA!! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE EHE— squeal EHEHEITHER!!! LEEHEEO!!” The orange banded turtle squeaked as Leo stopped for a second, “I’ve tried sooooo many spots, buddy! How many times are you gonna say not there, hm?”

Mikey genuinely squawked louder than a firefighter siren, squirming so much it looked like he was actually being electrocuted. “PLEHEHAHA LEEHEEO NAHAHAT THEHEHE RIHIHIBS!!!” He cackled. 

“Not the riiiibs~? Why~? Is it because it’s your tickle spot~? Your tickletickletickle spot~? Because you’re ticklish~?” Leonardo asked as he lightly nibbled the crook of Mikey’s neck. 

Michelangelo screamed in laughter, scrunching up his shoulders as he dug his heels on the bed, a couple of his plushies sadly falling on the floor (R.I.P. man…) “EEEHEEHEEP!!! S-STAHAP BEEHEEING MEEHEAN!” Mikey said as he thrashed on the bed. 

The slider said nothing, his hands sneaking up to the box turtle’s underarms. “AAAAHAHAHA! OHO NOHOHO— squeak SHIT! SHIHIHAHAT!”

Happy tears slowly begin to appear in the smallest teen’s eyes, he weakly hit Leo’s arms as a last attempt to be set free, “LEHEHEMME squeal GOHOHOHO!” 

“Ohonly if you sahay it, bubs.” 

“IHIHI— SQUEAK!! LEEHEEHEEON!!!” 

“Yeeeees, baby brother~?” The elder dragged out as he kneaded the other’s hips.

“IHI’LL SAHAY IHIHAT I-IHIHI’LL SAHAHAY IHIT!!” The amber eyed teen squealed. 

“And you promise not to be a sassy little shit about it~?” The older teen asked.

“SQUEAK YEHAHAHA— SQUEAK YEHES YEHES I-I PROHOHOMISE!” 

Leo stopped tickling his little brother, hugging him protectively as the youngest caught his breath slowly but surely. “W-Wahait…whahat squeak wahas ihihat yohou eeheeven wahanted me squeak to sahay again?” 

The taller turtle pondered for a bit, thinking to himself before loudly groaning, “That’s…a good damn question. I don’t really remember exactly what I wanted you to say in the first place…” The lime green eyed turtle sighed, “Forgetfulness at its finest...” 

The red eared slider adjusted himself, making sure the other was comfortable before starting to speak again, “Well…based on what we talked about…could you maybe just…y'know…” Leo gestured with his hands before groaning, “Do you get what I’m trying to say, man?” 

“…I thihink I have ahan idea…” Mikey giggled as he fiddled with his hands, “I shouldn’t beat myself up so much because of some of my traits or quirks. And I’m allowed to feel frustrated and/or upset because things don’t go my way because of them. But…I shouldn’t allow those things to put me down...”

Michelangelo smiled softly, rubbing his palm with his thumb, “They don’t define me as a person but they make me a person. I don’t need to be at my best 100% and I’m allowed to have bad days. And if things get too overwhelming or difficult I can just go to you guys.” 

Mikey hugged himself, letting out a small laugh as his happy tears welled up in his eyes, “I’m just…being me. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leonardo teared up at his brother’s words, hugging him tighter than he ever had before and burying his face at the back of the youngest’s head.

“Never forget that, Miguelito…never forget that.” 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[soul-engraver]

Damn, that new Star Wars fighting game is looking great! (and silly)

(can you tell that I'm having a lot of fun with these mods)

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

"Cuhut it out- you guys!" "Nu-uh, not until you're all perked up first! You don't want those gym challengers meetin' with an ol' mopey leader, do ya?" "Whitney's right, dear friend. No need to hide that beautiful smile of yours, alright?~"

What it takes to cheer up Johto's beloved ghost boy 👻💕

[fisheito]

Super important question. Do you think Yakumo is ticklish?

wait hold on i have to look this up

[the-meme-monarch]

huh sorry for disappearing for like a day and a half. a weird guy appeared

[ghastigiggles]

ive just come across your blog and your fics are seriously the cutest… plus you’re a wlw writer!! hopefully you’re still doing the mischievous prompts, if you are… may i request lee!acheron x ler!blackswan with “and what are you going to do, tickle me?” I could totally imagine acheron saying this as a joke and blackswan’s face lighting up thinking actually… thats a great idea!

Mischievious Prompts [Temporarily Closed]

“It occurs to me,” Black Swan lilts, “That you aren’t often close with people. Physically.”

“It wouldn’t take a Memokeeper to figure that out.”

Her laugh is soft and melodic, a sound that makes Acheron shut her eyes, soothed and comforted; a latent part of her wonders if that’s just the effect a Memokeeper’s voice has on a person. Her heart knows it’s not. Either way, she could easily get used to the gentle pressure on her side, and the arm wrapped around her waist. The weight of the Memokeeper’s head on her shoulder.

“Where does this observation come from?”

“You seem tense, is all – even though you know I’m not a threat to you. My every touch is tender and sweet, yet you don’t seem to know how to take it. I don’t think it’s conscious on your behalf, but it affects you regardless. That much is plain.”

“Is it a problem?”

“I suppose not,” She concedes; “But I would like to help ease that tension for you. You deserve that much.”

The emanator opened her eyes at that, and tilted her head to inspect Black Swan with vacant curiosity. 

“And what are you going to do to achieve that?”

“Patience, my dear emanator.”

Black Swan purred into her ear, squeezing her gently in a sideways embrace that Acheron by no means hated. She felt the Memokeeper’s hand slide against her side, tugging her jacket back enough to expose the skin further – and Acheron didn’t stop her. 

The tracing started pleasant enough, a gentle rubbing that slowly got lighter and lighter, until it teased her nerves into a state of prickly unrest that made the corners of her mouth twitch unbidden and her arm start to fall in opposition.

“... Tickle me?”

The unsteadily spoken words were meant to be a continuation of her prior question – but Black Swan, with a gentle chuckle, took it as bait, digging in her fingers a bit more persistently to earn a quiet squeal from Acheron as the emanator jolted and folded against her, pressing into her body. 

“Gladly.”

She couldn’t say that it really relaxed her much at all, with how much she squirmed – but she relished every gentle touch regardless, and didn’t mind much about her loss of composure at all. She was simply glad it was the Memokeeper.

[rowenabean]

.

[gifti3]

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝚂𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 ~

💚💜 𝙶𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚘𝚛: @charismakat 💚💜

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙺𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙻𝚎𝚎!𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚂𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑— 𝙸’𝚖 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 😭💔. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝙼𝚈 𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻 𝙰𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙻 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙵𝚁 💖💝💘💗˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟺,𝟷𝟺𝟺

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 👩🏾‍🦱💚

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝟸 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗, 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢. 𝚂𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚗-𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚌. 𝙰𝚃. 𝙰𝙻𝙻. 𝙸 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕’𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝚂𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜.)

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚐𝚜𝚜𝚜𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @itzsana-kiddingmenow

@saturnzskyzz @giggly-cloud @savemeafruitjuice @cedarrthefluffylee

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @veryblushyswitch @tmntalways

@pocky-dragon @my-l0v3r-v3rse @jamiesgotchu

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍…𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚕𝚎𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚖, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍/𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ;)

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚝!!!

̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝙴𝚃’𝚂 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“April, you gotta focus…”

“I am focused!”

Donatello crossed his arms along his plastron, glaring at his older sister as his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. “Alright then. If you’re ever so focused like you say you are…then riddle me this: what is that phone doing in your hand?” The softshell turtle asked, pointing to April’s phone that was in the palm of her hand. 

The girl looked away sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck and not even bothering to say a rebuttal to the question. The younger teen sighed impatiently, pinching the bridge of his snout.

The two siblings were currently in April’s bedroom, sitting on her carpeted floor along with some papers and folders scattered around them. The two were wearing their pajamas— as it was night time when they decided they should meet up and study. Well…for April to study.

The girl in question wore a black t-shirt with green checkerboard pants, and also wearing a bonnet for her hair along with her signature green glasses. Donnie on the other hand wore his signature purple hoodie, purple leg warmers and as well as his purple mask.

The older one scoffed, quickly sliding the phone underneath her bed and grabbing the history notes that were placed next to her. The girl straightened her posture, pretending to look over the messy notes she took earlier in class, making 'mhm’s' and 'uh-huh’s' here and there.

“What phone?” She asked innocently as if she wasn’t on YouTube a couple seconds ago.

The mutant dramatically sighed, massaging his forehead and laying down on the carpeted floor, his plastron facing up. The human teenager dramatically sighed as well, mimicking her brother’s fall on the floor.

“You can’t blame me for this, Dee! Studying is so freaking boring.” She groaned. “When am I ever going to have to know about these old guys in real life?” April asked genuinely, looking at her notes with the Founding Fathers faces on it before shivering, putting the pictures of them face down. The turtle teen sat back up, giving her an unamused eyebrow raise.

“April…”

“No! Like seriously. Let’s be real for a second here, Don. Who the absolute hell is gonna randomly come up to me and say: Who was the guy that led the battle of Ft. Sumter?” She said as she sat up as well. The softshell turtle blinked at her, then blinked at her once more, slightly tilting his head to the side in confusion. 

“Your…history teacher?” He stated, chuckling a bit. The girl threw a nearby pillow at her brother as he laughed, catching it and throwing it back at her. “Besides him!” She groaned, putting the pillow to the other side of her.

The purple banded turtle sighed, “Riri…I know this is atrociously boring for you but you got to at least make an effort here. This is your last grade of the 3rd semester!” Donnie stated sternly, reaching into his backpack and pulling out his computer that he brought with him when sneaking into the other's apartment. The older sighed, crossing her arms and glaring at the floor stubbornly. She absolutely hated when Donnie had a point.

Which was usually 99.9% of the time…but still!

April rested her cheek in her palms, “I have a 88% in History though…” She pouted, trying to reason with her brother that they didn’t really need to study so freaking hard to delay the ONE bad grade she’s about to get.

And anyway, if she flunked this test, what’s the worst it could bump her grade down to? An 84? Possibly a 80? Yeah…no. She’s completely fine with those odds for sure.

“Besides, it’s in two days.” The human girl said, getting up from where she was sitting to go on her phone again. Donnie huffed, now starting to grow annoyed at his sister’s lack of motivation and focus. “The test is in two days and yet you still don’t know the 8th amendment…” The younger spat, glaring at his computer screen as he began to type more harshly by every passing word he typed.

“…Isn’t that the one which gives us the right to keep and bear arms?”

“That’s the second amendment…the eighth amendment is not being able to give cruel or unusual punishments.” Donnie explained whilst rolling his eyes.

Oh sweet pizza supreme in the sky…April was so screwed for this test…

“I was close enough…” The older groaned, going over to sit next to the other, leaning on his shoulder. “What’re you doing, anyway?” She asked, poking the purple banded teen’s cheek as she saw the evident scowl on the younger one’s face. The softshell rolled his eyes once more, pushing his sister slightly but with no real force to it.

“I’m looking at you’re grades, actually.” Donnie said in a very calm voice which only worked to his benefit as April’s eyes bulged like saucers. She grabbed the young genuis' laptop, looking through the tabs to actually make sure he was on her school app and he didn’t just hack in and steal her account.

“Wha— since when the FUCK did you have access to my grades, Donatello?” The older teen asked, looking at the younger as if she was .2 seconds away from hitting him with her bat from here, all the way to New Jersey.

“I’ve always had access to your grades.” The younger teenager shrugged, trying his best to ignore his older sister’s very angry tone. “Your username is April and your password is O’Neil…both in caps. It wasn’t really that hard to figure out, sis. It’s literally your well-known catchphrase.” He chuckled.

“Your password for all of your electronics is literally Bootyyyshaker9000! You have no right to talk about 'bad passwords.'” April scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Donnie who only laughed more at her retort, taking back his computer. “Touché.” He nodded.

“But the reason why I’m under your school account in the first place is because I’m looking over your notes and I have made digital flashcards based on most of them. You’re welcome.” The softshell explained, showing the other teen the flashcards he’s made. The eldest to laughed fondly, “Alright, Mr. Tech wiz. Show me whatcha got.”

“Let’s see…” The taller teen mumbled, scrolling through the flashcards before settling on one to ask his sibling. “Okay…who was defeated in the Battle of Gettysburg?” He asked, looking up at April only to find a nervous expression plastered on her face…an expression translating to 'I dunno what the answer is.'

“Abraham…Lincoln…?” April guessed in a small voice, knowing she was completely 100% wrong in every which way but couldn’t help at least trying.

“Wrong; obviously. But…you already knew that. The correct answer was Robert E Lee.” Donnie stated before looking down at his computer, searching for another flashcard. The softshell was about to ask another question but before he could muster up a word, he saw his sister’s facial expression.

No longer smug. Nor bored.

She was…blushing?

“Something wrong, Riri?” The younger asked, finding the flustered state of his older sister completely hilarious. The girl in questionn cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck before looming at her sibling again, “Are…Are you sure that’s his last name…? The…Robert dude you just mentioned.” The older asked as the softshell looked back at the computer, re-reading the text. “Mhm. I’m positive. That is what it says. You can look him up yourself if you’d like.” 

April groaned for probably the millionth time, putting her face into her palms. Because…Lee? Fucking really? This Robert E Lee guy couldn’t have picked a better last name for himself? He HAD to choose that as a last name?

Donnie shook his head fondly at his eldest sibling’s flustered state, searching for more of the flashcards he pulled up on his computer. Preferably more about this Robert E Lee fellow.

This embarrassed state of the eldest was a very rare sight— kind of like a once-in-a-full-moon sort of thing. So Donnie would do what any good sibling would do in this moment and enjoy the literal hell out of it while it lasted.

The purple cladded teen smiled, “If you were too much in…a mood to study, you could’ve just told me, April.” He giggly joked, which only caused the older to bury her face into her hands more, muttering a quiet 'shut up', but with no real venom behind it. The softshell chuckled, scrolling through the flashcards before pausing.

Holy mother of Pearl…hold ON a freaking second.

Now that he thought about it, it made so much sense that April was in…a mood. No wonder she was so unfocused! Either he’s completely over-analyzing this whole…situation or April’s just being a drama queen instead of just asking him to help with her whole…situation. Either or.

But he was going to bet his money on the first guess.

Suddenly, Donnie was snapped out of his thoughts as April grabbed his shoulder’s and started to shake him back and fourth somewhat in an aggresive manner. She sighed, noticing the pure surprise in the softshell’s eyes that he was now in fact out of Donnie-land and back on Earth.

“Oh thank God…I thought I was going to have to whack you with my bat to get you to respond.” April joked. But the purple banded turtle knew damn well (definitely not because of past experiences) that his sister would not hesitate to use her bat if she needed to.

“Anyways…we should take a break.” The girl said suddenly, trying to change the subject. The younger teen raised an amused brow, knowing exactly what his sister was doing and decided to play along. The turtle let out a a small laugh, “We took a break ten minutes ago.”

The eldest rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest a she huffed, “So let’s take another one!”

Donnie pinched the bridge of his snout— he was so SO close to punting April out of her apartment window…head. first. Oh sweet Gram-Gram up above have mercy on him.

The duo had just spent thirty minutes just arguing back and forth whether or not they should study…but they haven’t even truly studied yet! If they couldn’t get back on track soon, Donnie would fear he would be here all night…which…he wouldn’t really mind, of course. He loves spending time with his sister but he has more important things to do than help her study.

Like watching Bridgerton for example!

…Don’t judge him…

But anyway— April needed to start getting these facts in her brain ASAP! The test was in two days for crying out loud. And Donnie knows that April studying at the very last minute would not always give her B+'s and solid A-'s…much to the older’s disagreement.

“Y'know…I actually have an idea to help you with you’re sudden lack of motivation towards studying, Riri…” The younger smiled, trying to keep his tone as monotone as possible but couldn’t help the cheeky smile spreading across his face. The human girl raised suspicious a brow, not liking the sudden change of tone and facial expressions from her little brother.

That goofy little turtle was up to something. And April just KNOWS she’s going to be the victim of whatever he was planning.

“What’s this idea of yours, little brother?” She asked, suspicion clear in her voice as her chocolate brown eyed narrowed at him. “For it to work, can you sit directly in front of me so your back is facing towards yours truly?” The mutant asked, voice still very calm but his expression clearly mischievous. April’s suspicion only rose as her younger brother spoke…but did as she was told, sitting in front of him so her back was facing his front.

“Okaaaaay…? Now what? Any more instructions?” The girl asked, her suspicion being replaced by genuine confusion. The younger teen snickered, “I think it would be better if I…use an example.” He explained.

“Let me just think of a random question…oh! During WWI, what did the British manufacture and poison?” The young genius asked, waiting for his sister to answer. He couldn’t see the other’s expression as of right now, but he could just tell by her body language that she had absolutely no clue. The older rubbed the back of her neck, shrugging, “Psh…uh, I dunno…guns…?”

Donnie paused for a moment, trying his best to cover up his laugh with a cough. The younger wiped a happy tear from his eye before fixing his posture, putting the computer to the side of him. “I’m sorry…guns? April, how can you poison a GUN?” He asked, trying to understand the logic behind his eldest sibling’s answer.

April groaned, “Dude I just said I didn’t know! It was the 1600’s or something! Who’s to say they DIDN’T poison guns?!”

The softshell’s left eye twitched, “WWI takes place in the 1800’s…”

The chocolate brown eyed teen turned around to her brother slightly, “Are you sure about that?” (John Cena reference goes crazy…)

“YES!!!”

“Alright alright! Jeez…no need to shout. Heard you loud and clear, Houston.” She mumbled, resting her cheek on her palm because…

Houston, she definitely had a problem.

Her Civil War test was in two freaking days and she barely even knew what century it took place in. She was screwed. She was the definition of the word screwed.

And anyways, tenth grade sucked major ass anyway. Flunking one History class wouldn’t be so bad. But April knew damn well Donnie, along with Raph, Leo, Mikey, Splinter, her Mom and literally everyone else in here life would not let her even touch an ounce of flunking.

She sighed, “…How is this supposed to be helping me again? Because this is literally the same tactic we’ve been doing but instead I’m facing away from you.”

The young genuis hummed knowingly, looking at the computer screen behind him, “You got the question I asked wrong, correct?”

“I…mean, yeah. Why are you askiEEEEK—!” The girl shreiked, hugging her middles as her younger sibling randomly poked her in the ribs. She turned her head around once more, glaring at the taller teen, “Donnie…what the actual fuck?” She seethed.

Which, in retrospect, that tone would’ve had the young genuis running for the hills any day…but today was not that day.

“Okay…so here’s what we’re gonna do, sis.” The younger one grinned cheekily, “I’ll ask you Civil War questions from the flashcards. If you get a question right, nothing happens. But if you get a question wrong I’ll have to tickle you.” He finished like it was the most casual sentence to say.

“How is that fair?” April huffed.

“This studying tactic helps you with you’re current mood AND helps you study more. It’s pretty fair if you ask me.” The softshell snickered.

“I hope you get run over by a car when you’re heading back to the lair…” The eldest grumbled, turning back around to face away from the taller teen.

The other barked out a laugh, finding this whole situation completely and utterly hilarious. “Love you too, Riri.” He smiled, “Now! Shall we get started~?”

“Do I even have a choice at this point…?”

“No…not really!” The purple banded turtle shrugged, going onto the computer to pull up a question. April giggled slightly, trying to stifle her laughs by covering her mouth. Donnie snickered at the adorable sight, poking his sister’s side, “I haven’t even tickled you yet and you’re already giggling up a storm…I wonder why that is…”

“Shuhut uhup yohou Megaha-mihihind looking thing...” The smaller teen grumbled, swatting at the other’s hands as he merely chuckled, “Alright…in what year did the Civil War begin?” He asked.

The glasses wielding teenager thought a bit, “Well…you said earlier tonight it was started in, like, the 1800's…”

“Mhm. So what year?”

“Like…1855…?” She guessed, which resulted in Donnie carrying out his promise as he to tickle her underarms. The older let out an inhuman shriek, clamping her arms down as she kicked her feet on the carpet, “DOHONNIE!!” She shouted through her laughs.

“Hm? What’s up? You need something April?”

“STAHAHAP IHIT!” The smaller teen cried out, squirming back and forth. The softshell rolled his eyes fondly, “You’re just a couple years off. C'mon, just guess.”

“1843?!”

“Higher…” Donnie commented as he scribbled his nails on the sides of her neck. The human girl shrieked, scrunching her shoulders as her back fell against the turtle’s plastron, “1865!!!”

“Lower…that’s when it ended. But you’re still super close.” The mutant stated, moving his fingers down to tickle at her sides. April shook her head hugging her middles as she banged the balls of her feet harder on the floor, “1864???”

“Lower…” The turtle said as he gave one quick squeeze to her hips. The girl jolted, letting out a loud, hilarious and genuine scream as she laughed, “1861!!! IHIHIT’S 1861!!! DAHAHAMMIT *squeal* STAHAH—!!” The human teen covered her mouth in surprise, blushing profusely at the noise she just let out.

The mutant couldn’t help but giggle in amusement, happy and somewhat shocked at the noise that escaped his sibling’s mouth, “Awe~! Okay, now that was straight up adorable.”

“ShuHUT UHUP.” The girl threatened, still hugging her middles which Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle to. “I do not know why you are so hostile towards me. My tactic is helping you!”

“Lihihike hehehell ihit ihihihis…” April grumbled. The young genius raised an amused brow, crossing his arms, “When did the Civil War start?”

“…1861…” She mumbled.

“And when did it end?”

“…1865…”

Fucking smartass…

“Point taken…” April huffed as she glared to the side, crossing her arms as the taller teen pulled up another question, “Alrighty then. What fort did Confederate General P.G.T Beauregard fire on to officially start the Civil War?”

The girl blinked, “…What fort? Like…a pillow fort?” The turtle jabbed her in the side, resulting in a loud squeal from his sister. “IHI’M BEING SERIOUS, YOHOU ASS!”

Donnie feigned a fake gasp, wrapping one arm around April’s chest, keeping her arms in place as the other hand worked its way down and tickled all over her stomach.

The eldest let out an ear piercing scream, kicking her legs on the floor even harder. “I’ll ask again: What fort did Confederate General P.G.T Beauregard fire on to start the Civil War?”

“IHI— *squeak* DAHA— *hic* FUHUCKIN DAHAHAMMIT!!!”

“Mmm…nope. That’s not it~!”

“DEEHEEHEE!!!”

“I’m barely even touching you!” Donnie scoffed, “To think what would happen if I—”

“FAHAH— *hic* FAHAHA— *squeal* FOHORT SUHUHUMTER!!! IHIHI— *hic* DOHOHON!!!” And just like that, the taller teen stopped yet again as he scrolled on his computer. “Cahan Ihi gehehet breaks at leheheast?” April giggled out. Donnie chuckled at the question, “This right now is your break. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Oh God up above that little walking talking green beanstalk will be in a world of hurt after all of this was over…

The purple banded turtle released April from his embrace, “This is an easy one. Who was elected—”

“LIHINCOLN! ABRAHAM LINCOLN!!!” The girl shouted immediately, letting out a huge wave of relief wash through her…that lasted, like, a good second and a half before she felt fingers poking her in the back, causing her to flinch involuntarily. “IHI ANSWERED COHORRECT, YOHOU FOHOHOUR EYED FREEHEEK!”

Donnie let out a satisfied huff, resuming to scribble at the elder’s underarms, “Well first things first: Your wearing glasses right now. So I don’t even know why your setting yourself up—” April squirmed so frantically that her glasses fell off of her face. The softshell turtle couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden action that played in front of him, “I stand corrected.”

The girl wheezed softly, a small tinted blush spreading on her face, “YOHOU— *squeak* THIHIS IHIHIS CHEATING!!”

“Hohow is this cheating?” Donnie asked innocently, tickling the other’s underarms harder.

“NAHA— *hic* IHI GOHOHOT IHIT *hic* RIHIHIGHT!!!”

“Oh. My apologies then.” The taller teen said, chuckling as the other in front of him grumbled curses and threats here and there. “Okay…what was the CSS Hunley?”

“…Thehe whahahat…?”

“I talked about this several times…” The turtle mused, his finger inching excruciatingly close to April’s hips. The eldest held onto her little brother’s wrists, shaking her head back and forth as loud cackles echoed around the room, “IHI REHEALLY *hic* *hic* DUHUHUNO! DOHOHON *squeal* PLEHEASE *hic*!!!”

“Oho don’t you even. You should have been listening to me when I was explaining this to you!”

“IHI WAHAS IHI *hic* WAHAHAS!!!”

The softshell chuckled at the retort, tasing April in the side causing her to let out a goblin-like shriek. “Wohoah…I’ve never hear that noise before…” The smaller teen wheezed out a tired laugh, slumping against her brother’s plastron.

Maybe instead of just flunking this test she could just simply pass way right here right now. The younger rested his chin on April’s shoulder, giving her a knowing look. She gulped in giddy panic, small giggles escaping her mouth once again.

He wouldn’t. He would never…oh, who is April kidding?! Of course that windshield wiper look-a-like would…

“We’ll skip this one. The answer was a submarine. We literally listened to Yellow Submarine by The Beatles to help you get the jist of it…” The softshell sighed knowingly, “This is an easy one…”

“Whose military genius and personality is often credited with holding the Confederate Army together?” The softshell asked, wiggling his fingers near April’s sides in an anticipatory manner.

“STAHAP DOING THAHAT!!!” April yelled. “I’m not doing anything! You’re going to get it wrong anyway so I’m just participating in the inevitable.” The young genius said, putting his hands in his lap and smiling down on his computer. More nervoud giggles escaped the other’s mouth, wanting to absolutely punt her little brother right here and right now.

Because believe it or not, she did actually know the answer to this question…since the answer was that dumb Robert E. Lee guy.

And worst of all, Donnie knows she knows the answer to the question. He just wants to be a little shit.

“Times up, O’Neil~!”

“WHAHAT!?!? YOHOU NEHEVER *squeal* SAHAHAID IHI *squeal* WAHAS TIHIMED!!!” The eldest squealed.

“Well I did just now, didn’t I?” The younger one teased, pinching the spot where April’s side met her hips. “OHO YOHOHOU— *squeak* FUHUHUCKIN SHIHIHIT!!! MY *hic* GOHOD! NAHAT *hic* THEHERE!!!”

“Aw but why not~? Is riiiight here better~?” The purple banded turtle asked innocently, tickling his sister’s hips mercilessly. The girl lurched her back up out in hopes that she could at least buck Donnie off of her, but the younger turtle only smiled and continued his attack as he drilled his fingers into his sister’s hips.

April screeched, “DEEHEE!!! YOHOU LIHITTLE SHIHA— *hic* NAHAT *squeal* THEHE HIHI- *hic* PLEHEHEASE!!!”

“D'aww~! Is my tough big sister too ticklish for this~? I think she is~!” Donnie teased. “STAHAP STAHAP!! YOHOU *squeal* GEHET *hic* OHOHOFF OHOF *hic* MEEHEE!!!”

“Oho my banana pancakes…I forgot how ticklish you are despite your usual tough teen demeanor…” 

April screamed in laughter, “DOHOHONNIE!!!”

“Yes, my beloved older sister whom I love dearly?”

“STAHAHAP *hic* IHIT NOHOHOW!!!”

“Then what’s the answer~? I know you know it~!”

“OKAHAHAY! OKAHAY!!! THAHAT RAHA— *squeak* THEHE ROHOBERT *hic* GUHUHUY!!! DEEHEE COHOME OHOHON!!” The girl laughed, happy tears welling up in her eyes slightly. The taller teen stopped, letting the other slump against him as she giggled tiredly. “So~! Based on everything we’ve gone over tonight…could you give me a quick little summary on what we went over?”

April rolled her eyes, adjusting herself so she was facing her little brother again. The softshell grabbed a Sprite from April’s mini fridge at the bottom of her bed, tossing her one of the soda’s.

The elder teenager basically chugged the drink, putting the empty can to the side, pondering her answer a little bit before saying, “The Cihivil Wahar staharted in…like, 1861 and ended in 1865. Basically, Confederate troops fihired on Fohort Sumter— which ihihis in Charleston Haharbor. Sohouth Carolina could nohot put uhuhup with a federal fohort blohohocking aha sea port—” The teen paused, looking at her brother in pure shock as the other just smiled back at her.

“…Holy fucking shit. I sound like yohou explaining sohohome gadget ohor something.” The girl chuckled out. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” The purple cladded turtle said, crossing his arms amusingly.

April chuckled at the gesture, resting her cheek on her palm again, “Yeheah…I guess. Thanks fohor the help, Deehee…”

“Anything for my big sis!” The softshell smiled, turning to close his computer. “We should do these study sessions more often! It helped you know more about your topic and it helped you with your current mood.” He grinned teasingly.

“You’re out of your damn mind.” The eldest glared, crossing her arms as she scoffed at the offer. But the younger did 100% take notice that she didn’t deny the suggestion by any means.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[kanene-yaaay]

Cuddle Time

Kanene's notes: This was supposed to just be posted tomorrow but I got too excited dfghjhgfgh. I am extremaly weak for any fanfic with cuddles and Guapoduo so I decided to get one of my favorite tropes and add some giggly fluff to it. Hope you like!

Warnings: This is a tickle fic. There's a lot of swearing. But besides that, this is purely fluff with a pinch of angsty thoughts that are barely there before going away. Ler!Roier and Ticklish!Cellbit. Around 2.500 words. My spanish is still something I'm trying to improve so pls forgive any grammar mistakes.

[~*~]

Roier was on his lap. 

This was a common occurrence, nowadays. Still, it made Cellbit’s heartbeat in a samba rhythm before calming down to a song of safety and happiness every time he thought about it. Feelings which only increased as Roier kept idly playing with his hair and massaging his scalp.

Technically, he knew exactly what his husband was doing. He used the same technique every time the detective got too lost in his enigmas, trying to claw and rip his way into the Federation’s secrets so they could have a tiny chance to escape from this island. First he would come to his office (not the one in Order Theoritas, but the old one because he kept forgetting to move the computer to the new building) and call him to go home, one, two, even three times before giving up and following one of the three usual routes: 

1) Going away and doing whatever project he had in mind - usually with Richarlyson, - ending up in their Castle to sleep when he was over.

2) Staying on the coach nearby and sing while going through his albums, both the one with their investigations or the other with their daily lives, pulling Cellbit’s attention from time to time to remember some lost memory while showing him a fun picture of Cellbit’s first day in the island or Foolish shooting Slime in their wedding.

3) Deciding to make this the perfect opportunity to have his own quality cuddle time with his husband. This route usually brought plenty of other options that could consist in: Choosing to drap himself on the other’s shoulders and play with his free hand, talking about any and everything or just keeping the soft silence between them. Or giving him a massage, not without chuckling and throwing pokes of fun in a teasy tune about how the other would absolutely melt with the touch and pretend that he wasn’t fighting to keep his eyes open. 

Sometimes, like this one, he would simply sit on his lap and rest his face on the creek of his neck, smiling half amused and half fondly about how Cellbit wouldn’t even comment or blink when he decided to do that, just open his arms and then keep writing or typing when he was comfortable on the new position.

The brazilian couldn’t actually point with precise exaction when each route was chosen every time, especially since others factors played in this like his husband’s feelings, Forever and Felps coming with Roier to help him to pull him out of the dark places of his mind after a bad day of working for the Federation or when Richarlyson would be around, wanting to spend time with him and Cellbit would be too much of a butter heart to actually deny his son anything under the Sun. 

(He was doing all of this for them after all.)

Even when he thought he had finally come to find a pattern in Roier’s choices, his love would just come with a new route or decision that would totally throw him off the track and oblige him to reorganize all his thoughts. 

But it was okay. He didn’t mind being wrong in this at all. Actually, it was like a domestic, nice puzzle that Cellbit could spend the rest of their lives trying to solve and he just couldn’t wait for when this would be his only worry.

He only was certain on one thing: most of the time Roier preferred to keep the third option for when Cellbit spent too much time on his books and forgot to keep up with simple human things like day and night, sleep schedules and eating. Cellbit was actually grateful that, even so, his husband would still keep trying to quietly convince him to let go of his enigmas with soft touches, some jokes, distracting kisses and complaints until the other finally caved and went home with him than Roier actively coming and physically pulling him out of his chair to rest. 

Even if the idea of being carried in his strong arms, toned with muscles and strength, would sometimes make his brain and face fry, both knew that his investigation was way too important and his mind too set in find a solution for him to try to rest even when papers and books and photos weren’t in front of him. This action would just make both of their frustration grow when his thoughts wouldn’t just shut off and Roier wouldn't get to rest as well.

So, they played this game. 

Roier pretended that each one of his moves were just him enjoying some quality time with his husband and not a plan to lovely break his resolve bit by bit until he went to eat and sleep and Cellbit pretended that he wasn’t, piece by piece, archiving a few good leads to follow on the next days and finishing his thoughts with the ones he already had in hand as yawns crept their way up his throat with each minute of the snuggle.

Right now the mexican was rubbing his back, changing from feeling the goosebumps following his fingertips when they lightly traced the skin to listening to his small (barely even audibles if he wasn’t so close) appreciative hums when he firmly pressed his thumbs in circles on his shoulders, following the path to his neck and going back before re-starting his circle.

(...)

It’s been a couple of hours since Roier first appeared and demanded cuddles - determined to make his husband get out of his office this night after spending the last three days there, - until he finally stopped listening to the typing of his computer. He turned his head from its resting place on the other’s shoulders, watching as Cellbit pinched the bridge of his nose with a tired, frustrated expression on his face.

Trying to know anything about their current prison was a painfully slow and exhausting process. It was no news to watch the shadows under his husband’s eyes get darker and darker as each answer brought other 4 new questions. Sometimes, Cellbit would confess in the sleepless nights, he came out of his investigations feeling much emptier than when he started, sensing his hope starting to give out to desperation.

And how could Roier let him shimmer in those thoughts under his supervision?

He turned around and kissed his chin, hands slowly creeping up to his sides, laying there for comfort and warmth as Cellbit twitched instinctively, sighed and opened a tiny smile at the other, letting his hand fall on Roier’s arm and rubbing circles there, still staring at the computer.

“Terminó? (Did you finish?) Did you already…” he then began typing idly on the back of the chair, pretending to be the detective “....hacked la Federacion?” (the Federation?)

“Uh hm, uh hum.” Cellbit immediately jumped on his silliness, also typing quickly and senselessly on his computer before doing a lower, grave voice full of glitching. “I’m in.”

“Apoco si, pendejo.” (Sure, stupid.)

“É verdade, é verdade. It’s true. I called a boat to come get us all of this, it must be getting close.” 

“Si, si. Ya están en Vergiça, cabrón.” (Yes, yes. They’re already got on Dickland, idiot.)

“Oh, did you find them when you went there?”

“En portugués, Cellbit, en portugués.” (In portuguese, Cellbit, in portuguese.)

The brazilian let out a fond snicker, rolling his eyes, trying but not succeeding to hide how much happy it made him that the other was making a true effort to learn his language just as much as he tried to learn spanish.

“Ok, ok. Você encontrou com eles quando foi pra lá?”

“No, no, no. No pude ir porqué (I couldn’t go because) mi pepee is very small.”

Cellbit couldn’t stop the crackle that was fished from his throat at this, hand lightly hitting his tabletop and coming to hide his eyes, losing their battle of keeping a serious face as the conversation grew more and more foolish and they went deeper and deeper in the joke.

Roier smiled. He missed hearing that freeing sound. Even though Cellbit got much more relaxed and happy around him, it was easier to see that, since Jaiden’s mission in that giant dungeon, he had been much more stressed and on edge. 

That is why he couldn’t help but immediately reflect the joy in his husband’s face as his laughter took turns in being totally quiet or having high pitched sounds. It was adorable.

Also, it gave him a very good idea.

He absently adjusted his hold on the other’s waist, glad that his smirk was hidden due their position.

“Que te ries, cabrón, eh? Que te ries?” (What are you laughing at, huh, idiot? What are you laughing at?)  He threw the bait, already knowing what the other would say.

“Nothing, nothing.” Suddenly a squeal filled the room, which might or not be related with Roier choosing this exact time to rhythmically squeeze his sides, going up and down on the tickle spot quickly and skillfully, counting that the surprise attack and fast scribbling of his fingers would be enough to not allow the other to turn the tables before he could enjoy at least a good amount of Cellbit’s cute laughter. “Guapito!”

“Huh? Que dije, gatinho? No hablo inglés, sorry, sorry.” (Huh? What did you say, gatinho? I don’t speak english, sorry, sorry.)

“Pendejo!” He tried to grab his wrists, but with a swift movement Roier caught one of his hands and intertwined their fingers, pulling his arm up and then having no obstacles to attack his unprotected armpit with all the scratches and pokes that he knew that would make the detective completely lose any trace of coherent thought. 

Cellbit threw his head backwards with a short ‘eee’ sound, silent laughter ringing in the air for a few seconds before he tried to become a ball of protection, squeaks and yelps falling like a waterfall from his lips as his hand went from trying to hide his smile to pushing the tickling away.

“Awww, no mames, wey. Cellbit you’re so ticklish, man. You’re ticklish everywhere.”

As if to prove what he was saying, Roier began spidering his fingers anywhere his fingers could reach, prodding the space between his ribs, scribbling on his sides, squeezing his hips, tracing his neck all while watching the other’s laughter descend in a string of high pitched giggling that made his cheeks burn and eyes gleam in mirth. 

“Literally ticklish everywhere. A ver, a ver: Boom” (Look at this, look at this) 

A poke on his armpit and another squeal shot through the room, more of them following as he kept poking his entire torso randomly, drinking on the gigantic smile on Cellbit’s face. “See? Very, very ticklish. Boom. Boom. Boom.”

“Não, sem cócegas, sem cócegas!” (No, no tickling, no tickling!) His voice was breathless, the words barely understandable with all the giggles.

Roier adjusted himself to a sitting position on his lap, letting go of his arm so both of his hands would be free. Cellbit latched on his wrists but didn’t actually push him away.

“Oh no,” He gasped dramatically, making his voice in a deep tune of despair that he knew sounded ridiculous enough to increase the foolishness of all of this, both of his hands following Cellbit’s torso around when it instinctively tried to squirm away from his hold, digging on any tickle spot available before happily jumping to another, no matter how much the detective tried to wiggle away or cull in protection. “Las cosquillas, Cellbit! Las cosquillas te encontraron, nooo! Ya no puedo salvarlo, és muy tarde.” (The tickles, Cellbit! The tickles found you, nooo! I can no longer save you, it’s too late)

Roier then added a few grunting sounds as he made an entire show of fighting his own hands, throwing himself from one side to another and swearing before finally stopping his attack. He felt a bit silly in doing all that but seeing the blush crept in Cellbit’s neck and how his snickers still danced joyfully in the air for the next few minutes even after he ceased his attack, he felt proud.

The brazilian tried for a third time to open his eyes - black and glinting with a playful mirth and a few unshed tears - and endured exactly two entire seconds of looking at Roier before his chuckling grew anew. Roier couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Se murió, noo. Estás completamente muerto.” (He died, noo. He is completely dead.)

Cellbit weakly punched his shoulder, his own still bouncing with the leftover laughter.

“Callate, estúpido!” (Shut up, stupid!)

“Eh? Estúpido?” Roier didn’t wait not a single second before clawing on his stomach, sniggering malefically at the surprised crackling that exploded from the other, his hand hitting the tabletop. “Ya está, ya está. Ya no voy más a dejarte ir. Grosseirinho. Gatinho grosseirinho” (Enough, enough. I’m not letting you go, now. Rude. Rude gatinho)

“Desculpa, desculpa.” (I’m sorry, i’m sorry)

“Nah, nah, nah. Con esa boquita me besas?” (Do you kiss me with that mouth?)

With a bolt of strength Cellbit adjusted his hold and pulled the other forward, making him lose his balance and fall on his chest. He lost no time before capturing his lips in a kiss, immediately making Roier’s brain stop and his entire body freeze before melting on his chest, the tickle attack coming to halt, totally forgotten.

They spent a few moments like this before breaking apart. 

“Si, con esa boquita te beso.” (Yes, I kiss you with that mouth.) Cellbit replied, satisfied in taking the other’s teasy grin right out his lips.

Roier, ignoring how hot his cheeks felt, snickered at how proud and playful the other’s smirk was, especially when Cellbit didn’t try even the slightest bit to hide how smug he felt since, even with a rushed plan created while he was laughing his ass off, he knew his husband well enough to know exactly what to do to stop his thoughts and attacks immediately. 

It wasn’t easy to catch the flirty fighter out of guard but it was worth it every single time.

Still, Roier just couldn’t help himself but tease his love just a tiny little bit more.

“Nah, pinche beso sin fueza. (Nah, what a fucking weak kiss) One more, one more.” 

He then lowered his head, pretending to go for another kiss before quickly changing his direction and planting a raspberry on the other’s neck, quickly following it with another and another and a fourth one before losing the battle against his own crackles and resting his forehead on Cellbit’s shoulder, still not believing in the honest to god shriek that came out of the other’s mouth, more laughing quickly following it.

Cellbit sweared at him and lightly pushed his arm, but both just let themselves calm down from the adrenaline and the high in a melody of increasingly quieter giggles.

“How did you say cosquillas in portuguese? Co… consewhat?”

“Nah, nah, nah. I’m not teaching you that.”

“Come on, man!”

Cellbit squeezed his side, making him jump with a yelp and get out of the chair while he was quick to follow, standing on his feet and stretching with a yawn. A worryingly number of cracks followed that action and that made Roier relax, knowing his husband would be too tired to get any revenge now. It was almost 4 am, afterall.

“Outro dia te conto. Vamos, pendejo,” (I will tell you another day. Let’s go, idiot) the detective turned off the computer and held his hand out, giving Roier’s one a tender kiss when he immediately answered the gesture before intertwining their fingers. Roier could feel a bolt of electricity and warmth travel his entire body at that “Let’s go to the castle. I will finish the rest of my work tomorrow.”

Roier kissed his cheek and pulled his warpstone, smiling. “I will follow you, gatinho.”

No matter what or where, he really would.

Cellbit smiled, pulled his own warpstone, starting to disappear in sparkles of purple. “I will wait, guapito.”

And, for forever, that is also true.

They slept relaxed and in peace that night.

[~*~]

Random fun fact: Forever and Felps are the only ones capable of making Cellbit stop working for very different reasons: Forever because he also has a thick skull and can and WILL spend the entire night complaining about the fact that Cellbit isn’t getting out of his office and how HE is already bored for being in his office and even calling Richas and Roier to try to help him. While Felps is because the logic and serious part of his brain automatically shut off everytime his best friend is around and usually they get lost talking about semantics and philosophy and random questions like what can and can not be considered a soup.

[allisonreader]

It's funny how big of an impact things we watch as we grow up leave.

Like I just read an article interviewing Alyson (last name not remembered) who played Lunnette the clown on The Big Comfy Couch.

My parents and I still quote things from the show. One line in particular.

"Who made this big mess!?"

Then we give blame to who did. Messy hair day, still referred to the person as Major Bedhead. We'll still even reference Molly the dolly.

The Big Comfy Couch is hardly the only thing that gets referenced.

There are still times when (though my brothers don't really know the show) that we reference Skinnamarink TV with Sharon Lois and Bram. Especially some of their songs. (Skinnamarink-y dinky do- I love you. I love you in the morning and in the afternoon. I love you in the evening and underneath the moon...)

Ants in the Pants is another one that still gets a reference at times and that show had some fun music on it. Songs that I still think about to this day.

I still think about Babar a lot, but we don't necessarily reference it, though I do like to pull out (moonmen never kid) at times. I also still think about Theodore the Tugboat and will go and listen to the theme song at times.

And of course there are the classics like Little Bear, Franklin, Arthur and others, but they're not ones that necessarily actually get directly referenced. Though I'm sure that there are many shows that I'm missing.

Anyways that's just my little musing on kid shows.