#ler!robin

[unholy-cat]

Ну что ж . . . раз в год и палка стреляет, хех.

Извиняюсь за долгое отсутствие, скажем так запары по учёбе, но я постараюсь сюда выкладывать контент по чаще (я надеюсь).

Так что вот вам подаро��ек с этими милыми птенчиками, а потом будет большой арт на щекотливую тематику, постараюсь выложить его к этому году ( . . . но это не точно)

Спасибо тем кто меня лайкал и подписывался, всех люблю! ❤️

Well, then. . . a miracle happens, heh.

I apologize for the long absence, let's say problems with studies, but I will try to post content here more often (I hope).

So here's a gift for you with these cute birds, and then there will be a big Art on the topic of tickling, I will try to post it by this year ( . . . but this is not accurate)

Thanks to those who liked and subscribed to me, I love everyone! ❤️

[azuregiggles]

Spontaneous Sanji HC!?

This is about fluffy tickling, if that's not for you kindly keep scrollin ty :D

Art/fic where Sanji is down and sour / sleep deprived and Robin decides to cheer him up /tire him out by tickling him as she does luffy and chopper.

The different spots and teases bring back memories of him being cheered up via tickles throughout his years with his mom and zeff.

Robin tickles his ears and it brings back memories of his mom cheering him up when he drops something he made for her (again) and she blows raspberries on his cheeks and nibbles on his ears. "Don't worry, I'll eat your giggles instead~ they're so so sweet~"

Robin tickles his neck and he recalls his mother twirling a pretty feather he brought her across his chin and neck. "Do you think this can help me find your smile?"

Robin tickles his sides and he recalls Zeff accidentally discovering how ticklish he was and begins using it to punish him for his snarky ways. "Why so jumpy, I hardly touched ye? Are you bruised or something?" The geezer inspected his wounds until he was interrupted by squeaky laughter.

His ribs bring back memories of being with Zeff not too long after rescue when his ribs only showed a little bit and Zeff decided to count them (croneing on and on about how he thought the brat had lost one during their time on the rock) as payback for Sanji calling him an old bastard. After all, hit the kid and he comes back swingin, tickle him to pieces and he learns his lesson fast.

And lastly his stomach is a particularly fond spot for his memory as zeff caught the kid snooping in his room one day; when asked what he was searching for the little brat replied "what kind of shitty pirate were you? You don't even have a treasure map! Shitty old man!" And zeff, in a particularly vengeful but amused mood told Sanji that the map was on his little blonde head and poked him in the brow "are you senile already? The hell is that supposed to mean?" Zeff smirked and scooped up the rowdy boy, placing him on the bed. He replied "I'll show ya, see? Your brow is the map, it starts up here-" he tickled Sanji's ribs on one side, earning loud squeals and swears "and it trails off down and around like this~" he scribble, scritched, and squeezed and ticklish swirl around the boy's midriff ending at his bellybutton and digging in around it. Shrill screams and boyish laughter rang throughout the room as the assault continued "see? Now that's treasure." Not that sanji could hear.

Robin leaves a sleepy cook to reminisce upon the kitchen floor, a blanket over his body and a genuine smile upon his face, he finally gets some rest.

Sorry if it's out of character at all but it's my head and these are it's cannons ty for reading

[honestlyuniversallycupcake]

Finney was engrossed in a particularly difficult puzzle, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was hunched over the table in the library, a book of riddles open beside him. He hadn't noticed Robin creep up behind him, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Robin, ever the prankster, crouched low to the ground and launched his attack. He tickled Finney's ribs with his fingers, giggling as Finney let out a startled yelp. The puzzle scattered across the table as Finney jumped up, his hands instinctively covering his sides.

Finney: "Robin, you scared me half to death!"

Robin doubled over with laughter.

Robin: "You're face! It was priceless!"

Finney playfully shoved Robin's shoulder.

Finney: "Not funny! I was almost done with that puzzle!"

Robin: "Oh, come on, Finney, you know you love a good tickle fight."

Finney couldn't deny it. He grinned.

Finney: "Maybe just a little."

Robin, ever the opportunist, lunged again, this time aiming for Finney's feet. Finney shrieked and tried to sidestep, but Robin was too quick. The two boys tumbled to the floor, a whirlwind of laughter and tickles.

[fluffyweeby]

Tickletober day 5 - “I’m Not Ticklish”

Prompts by @tickletober

I’m not late you are 😶😳🫥 I’m a bit behind but promise to catch up over the weekend 🫡🙏

Another one of the ✨bat boys✨! (Read the WEBTOON 🤜🔪)

As always happy tktober everyone! Drink some tea ☕️ 💜

[tickletastic]

The City Needs Its Hero

Fandom: Batfam

Ship: N/A

Summary: Robin Jason forces Dick to play the part of an endangered civilian, well he, of course, plays the part of Batman, saving the city from certain doom. (AKA fluff but also kind of heartbreaking because Batman, does not in fact always save the day...) Day ten of Miya and Mia’s Tickletober: cloak!

“I am,” Jason says, attempting to make his voice gruff, “the Batman.” 

“Batman, save me!” Dick shouts, flailing on the carpet. 

“On my way to save the day!” Jason jumps into a flip, and Dick notices milliseconds too late that Jason is going to take a fall, the cape far too long for him to land gracefully on his feet. Jason himself realizes too late and lands with a thud on his back, his body covered completely in the cloak as the cowl clatters to the side. 

“Jason?” Dick yells, rushing over to his brother, “Little Wing, are you alright?”

Dick panics when Jason remains silent, but he can see his brother struggling to escape the cape. He slides on his knees across the hardwood to get to Jason, quickly untangling him from the fabric. 

“No!” Jason shouts, batting Dick’s hands away, “you’re ruining it, Dickie! I’m supposed to save you!”

Dick sighs with relief, scooping up his brother, cape included. “Oh my god, you scared me, Little Wing. I thought you were hurt.” 

“I’m not hurt, this cape is just dumb and long,” Jason giggles when Dick ruffles his hair and leans down to press a soft kiss in his dark curls, “go back! Go back! I need to save the city!”

“Fine, fine,” Dick laughs, making his way back across the living room.

“This time hang on to the back of the couch! Like you’re holding on to a skyscraper!” Jason shouts, running back to the side of the room he had originally been in. 

Dick laughs, surprised at the request, and decides to do a little extra to make the game more realistic for his brother. “Want me to hang from the ceiling?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Jason cheers, jumping excitedly. 

“Alright, just be careful, Jay.” 

“Always am, Dickie,” Jason says before taking on a full sprint, this time being extra vigilant about the fact that Batman’s cape is almost double his height. He bounces off of the couch, landing on the top of a bookshelf, perfectly steady. 

He takes a moment to consider his options, but Dick’s exaggerated wailing quickly snaps him out of his thoughts. 

“Batman, please help me!” Dick shouts, rocking the chandelier that he’s handing from, “I’m going to fall!” 

“Don’t be afraid!” Jason responds, backing up in preparation to jump, “Batman always saves the day!” He takes a leap and manages to grab onto Dick’s torso, wrapping his legs and arms around him like a koala.

“I have saved you, civilian! You are safe now!” Jason exclaims, positively beaming up at Dick. 

“Thank you so much!” Dick says, using one arm to maneuver Jason higher on his torso, “I must repay you!”

Dick swings his legs up onto the chandelier, creating a human hammock for Jason, maneuvering them until one of Dicks elbows is locked into the chandelier, his body securely holding them both up. When they’re both secure, Jason still holding onto Dick with dear life, Dick’s free hand shoots down to scribble over Jason’s tummy.

Jason squeals, burying his face in Dick’s chest, the cape flapping everywhere as he tries not to squirm for fear of falling. “Dihihicki nohoho!”

“No? But I have to repay you somehow, you saved me, afterall!” Dick exclaims as if it’s just common sense. Jason giggles harder at the silliness, his legs gripping tighter around Dick as a substitute for kicking his feet. 

Dick leans his head down and blows air over Jason’s ears, and the kid squeaks, shaking his head back and forth, black curls obscuring his face entirely. 

“Batman, are all heroes this ticklish?” Dick teases, beaming down at his brother.

“Nohoho!” Jason squeals back, “wehehe’re ihihinvincible!”

Dick laughs along with his brother, tickling him wherever he can reach: his sides, his neck, his belly, and even his shoulder blades, spidering his fingers in every spot Jason exposes.

“DIHIHICKIE!” Jason screeches when Dick manages to get his hand under Jason’s arm, “NOHOHO!”

“No? But Batman, isn’t it rude to deny my thank-you gift?” Dick asks, feigning innocence. 

Jason shakes his head rapidly, though his words are lost to the childish, bubbly giggles that pour freely from his lips. 

Bruce wanders down the hall when he hears the laughter of his eldest, laughter he hasn’t heard much since the two of them stopped getting along so well. He watches as Dick hangs from the chandelier, using his body to cradle Jason, tickling the child silly. 

The sight is so sweet, so painfully endearing, that he almost runs back to his room to grab his phone, wanting to preserve the moment in time. He notices the discarded cowl on the ground, how Jason is somehow still draped in his cape, and he can’t even be mad that the two of them had probably snuck into the cave to grab it, can’t even find it in him to sigh dejectedly about the dusty specks of hardwood that fall from around the chandelier. 

[koala-fluff]

Tickletober Day 3: Cuddles

Fandom: Stranger Things

-Enjoy!

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

Holy Shit!"

Nancy flinched as Robin shouted and jumped. The woman on the screen screamed as the killer came out of nowhere and attacked her.

"I thought you watched movies for a living?" Nancy teased, curling back into her girlfriend's side.

"I do, but I usually avoid horror." Robin wrapped her arm around her shoulders, staring intently at the television. "Hits a little too close to home."

"Fair."

"Besides, you jumped too."

Nancy's jaw dropped dramatically as she looked up. There was a faint smirk on the younger girl's face.

"I only jumped because you did!" She retorted, poking her side. Robin flinched and glanced at her.

"I thought we agreed no… poking during the movie." She muttered, blushing slightly.

"Fine, fine." Nancy held her arms up in surrender. "No poking."

The couple fell into silence, enraptured by the main character finding the body. Nancy leaned her head against Robin's shoulder, enjoying the closeness. Robin pulled her closer in response.

Eventually, they came upon a scene that included the main character creeping through a dark building. Robin was ridged, her eyes wide as the music slowly crept faster. Nancy glanced up at her and had an evil idea that brought a devilish grin to her face.

She leaned back, trapping Robin's arm against the couch, and grabbed her other hand. Robin squeezed it in response, her eyes not leaving the screen.

Nancy cuddled closer, turning her head to rest her chin on Robin's shoulder. Then she waited.

Soon enough, the music in the movie died down, dropping the scene into silence. Robin inhaled, holding her breath in anticipation. Nancy held her breath too, but for quite a different reason. Just as the killer burst forth, Nancy lunged up and blew a deadly raspberry right into the crook of Robin's neck.

The scream the main character let out was muffled by the shriek Robin let loose. She cackled and twisted away, dragging Nancy down with her as she slipped off the couch.

"Nancy!" She whined over her girlfriend's laughter. "We agreed on no poking!"

"Thahat wahasn't a pohoke though!" Nancy defended.

"You know what I meant!" Robin shoved her girlfriend off her, blushing madly. "Now we're gonna have to rewind the movie.

Nancy glanced at the screen, then back down to her girlfriend on the floor. She smirked and paused the movie.

"We can finish it later." She decided. "I found a better activity."

Robin's eyes widened and she scrambled to sit up, but Nancy pushed her back down and dug her fingers into her ribs. Robin burst into cackles and shut her eyes tight so as to not see her girlfriend's smirk.

"You know, I think I need to remind you of the difference between 'tickle' and 'poke'." Nancy mused, moving her fingers upwards. "Luckily, I am quite knowledgeable on the subject."

They never ended up finishing the movie.

[starlightglimglam27666]

TTG: Sisterly Tickles

Summary: Terra tickles Robin to get him to laugh.

Robin was making a break for it. Terra had asked if he was ticklish and even took a feather. Robin was trying to avoid it by flying. Just when he thought he was safe, Terra, out of nowhere, set up an earth bed and tied up Robin in an X position and lifted his shirt to expose his tummy, which was his most ticklish spot. She took the feather and positioned it above his tummy.

"Any last words, bro?" Terra said, inching the feather closer until it was barely touching him.

"Eep!" Robin made a small noise as the feather was poised to tickle him. Terra started stroking the feather up and down on his tummy.

"Coochie coochie coo!" Terra said as she tickled. Robin started laughing as the feather stroked his ticklish tummy.

"That tickles!" Robin said, starting to laugh as his ticklish tummy was tortured by the feather. Terra withdrew the feather and used her fingers to tickle him.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle!" Terra said as she wiggled her fingers all over Robin's tummy, looking for a sensitive place to tickle.

"STAHAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIT! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! I'M TOHOHOHOHO TICKLISH FOHOHOHOHOR THIHIHIHIS!" Robin burst into laughter as his sister tickled him. Terra kept tickling him and showed no mercy. She took the feather again and tickled his navel with it.

"Are you ticklish here, too?" Terra said, listening to Robin's laughter as she kept tickling him.

"TEHEHEHEHERRA! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE! IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES!" Robin protested through his laughter as his tummy was shown no mercy.

"My cute ticklish brother!" Terra said as she tickled one side of his tummy with the feather and tickled the other side with her free hand.

"I'M NOHOHOHOHOT CUHUHUHUHUTE! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIT!" Robin pleaded through his laughter as he was shown no mercy by his own sister.

"You know what happens to superheroes when thry object to the compliments of their siblings?" Terra teased, tickling the sides of his tummy more. "MORE TICKLES!"

"STAHAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIT! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAHAN'T TAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHIT!" Robin found it very difficult to get any words out without being dissolved by laughter.

"Only if you say that you're cute!" Terra said, continuing her assault. She even stuck her finger into his navel, eliciting a squeak from him.

"OKAY, OKAY! I'M CUHUHUHUHUTE! NOW STAHAHAHAHAHAP TICKLING MEHEHE! I'M TOHOHOHOHO TICKLISH!" Robin admitted through his laughter, and with that Terra stopped tickling him and let him go. He pulled his shirt back down as he caught his breath.

[simplee-dreaming]

What's Your Secret?

Word count: 1577

Summary: The reader, Steve and Robin share secrets with one another in a Russian basement.

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

“Help! Help! Help us!” 

“Robin, no one is coming,” Steve groaned. 

“I got to try, there could be someone. Help!” Robin yelled. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Steve asked. Your head drooped as another tear fell from your eye. 

You, Steve and Robin were all tied to chairs, in a Russian basement. Your plan to find out what the Russians were up to had failed. Whilst Dustin and Erica managed to escape, you three were caught, now left scared…and very drugged up. 

“It’s okay Y/N, we’ll get out of here. I promise,” Robin looked at you as you gazed over to her. 

“What if we don’t?” 

“Then we die heroes,” Steve said, swaying. You scoffed. 

“I’ll never see my family again. None of us will. Or our friends.”

“What about Dustin and Erica? Do you think they’ve made it to safety?” Steve asked.

“They could be on their way to rescue us right now,” Robin said, optimistically. 

You all sighed, knowing that the Russians will probably get to you before they would. 

“Let’s play a game,” Steve suggested. 

“What game?” Robin replied.

“Well, if these are our last moments, then why don’t we share our deepest, darkest secrets. That way, we don’t take them to the grave. Or, if we do manage to escape, it means we’ll be closer than ever before.” 

“That sounds so stupid,” you muttered, slurring a bit as the drugs started to kick in.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” Robin shrugged. “Why don’t you start us off, Steve?”

“Oh…um…well…”

“What’s wrong? Don’t want to share your deepest, darkest secret?” You said, sarcastically. 

“I now realise how embarrassing this is.” 

“Oh come on, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Robin reassured him. 

“Alright…well…back in school, I noticed you quite a bit, Robin. And, uh, I always thought you were very pretty. I just never had the guts to admit it, nor ask you out, and then Nancy came along so of course that was it until we broke up then we started working together and I now realise I still kinda have feelings for you so if we don’t get out of this alive then I want one of you to end me and I’m gonna stop talking now….” Steve drew a sharp intake of breath. 

There was a long pause. Then Robin suddenly burst out laughing.

“Oho my gohod! That is the last thing I expected to come out of your mouth, Harrington!” She exclaimed, doubling over in giggles. You giggled quietly too.

“Alright, I didn’t think it was that stupid,” Steve said, his face going red. 

“Oh Steve. Honey. I’m sorry. I’m just…just not attracted to you. Or any guys. At all.” 

Steve slowly turned to Robin. You watched as his face went from hurt, to confused, to shocked.

“Wh-what do you mean?” 

“I’m gay, Steve. I like women.” 

“Oh. I-I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. I’ve never told anyone.”

“Why not?” 

“Cause if I did then I wouldn’t be sat here. I’d have been gone a long time ago.” 

“That’s not true.”

“Come on Steve, you saw the way our classmates acted. You’ve seen the way society portrays the gays. I’d be in literal hell.” 

Steve fell silent.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad you think I’m pretty though. I’m so using that against you when we get out.”

Steve smirked. 

“Alright then, Y/N,” Robin turned to you. “What’s your deepest, darkest secret?” 

You started giggling again. 

“What’s so funny?” Steve asked. 

“I dohon’t know,” you giggled. 

“I think the drugs are working,” Steve said, stifling back a laugh.

“That won’t get you out of this. What’s your secret?” Robin asked again. 

“I have no secrets, I’m an open book,” you sang, sounding drunk. 

“Everyone has secrets, Y/N. If you don’t tell us then I’m sure the Russians will get it out of you,” Steve said, making you giggle again. 

“Alright, alright, but it’s very very secretive…” 

“A secretive secret?” Robin laughed.

“So you know like tickle fights right? Well what most people do is scream and cry but I laugh a lot.” 

“So your secret is that you’re ticklish?” Steve’s lip curled up slightly.

“No no…I mean yes, but no. They scream, I laugh. Right?” 

“Y/N, what are you saying?” Robin asked.

“I laugh!”

“Most people do!” Robin argued back, setting Steve off in a fit of giggles. 

“But I like it!” 

“You like laughing?” 

“Yes! And that’s why!” 

“Wait wait, did you just say you like being tickled?” Steve asked, tilting his head at you. 

“Duh!” You said, sarcastically. 

“Well….that’s good to know…” Steve exchanged a look with Robin as you quietly giggled again. 

“Do you think they’ll remember saying that when we get out?” Robin asked.

“Definitely not. But we will….” Steve replied, smirking. 

Roughly 5 minutes later, you started hearing murmurs from outside the room. 

“Shit. It’s the Russians.” Steve said in a panicked tone. 

“Shh, I can’t hear what they’re saying,” Robin responded. You all fell quiet as the voices started to get clearer. 

“Wait…” You said, as you realised the voices weren’t Russian, but American. 

With a sudden bang, the door flew open, revealing Dustin and Erica, armed with weapons. You all lit up with glee as the two of them got to work on freeing you. 

Once you were all untied, you bolted for the lift where you, Steve and Robin stumbled about, still high on the drugs. Dustin and Erica shared an annoyed look. The lift doors opened and you were finally back inside Starcourt Mall where you headed straight for the toilets to let the drugs leave your body. Dustin and Erica waited outside whilst you, Robin and Steve finished regurgitating. The three of you then collapsed on the toilet floor, the effects of the drugs finally wearing off. 

“I’ve never felt so alive,” Robin said. You and Steve chuckled but agreed. Steve then slowly looked at you. 

“So, Y/N. How are you feeling?” 

“An awful lot better.” 

“Even after your little secret?” 

You froze.

“...what secret?”

“The secret you told us when we were tied in the basement. You know, I told Robin I had a crush on her then she told us she likes girl and then you had your turn.” 

Your eyes widened. 

“W-what did I say?” 

“Oh nothing major. Just that you enjoy laughing.” 

“Oh. Um…” You looked confused. 

“Yeah, you said you really like laughing…because of being tickled,” Robin teased. Your face dropped, heart now pounding. 

“Wait, no, I-”

“It’s fine, Y/N, you enjoy being tickled. That’s not a bad thing,” Steve shrugged. You relaxed a little before he continued, “...just means we have more of a reason to tickle you.” 

Steve and Robin both lunged towards you, pushing you down to the ground. You yelped as Steve sat on your waist whilst Robin pulled your hands above your head and sat on them. They both grinned at you before Robin stuck her wiggling fingers in your armpits and Steve attacked your tummy. You screamed out and started kicking your legs. Dustin and Erica ran in to see what the problem was, only to start laughing when they realised what was happening. 

“My oh my you are so ticklish!” Steve teased, vibrating his fingers into your ribs which sent your laughter up an octave. It didn’t help that Robin’s quick fingers spidered up and down your arms and deep into your armpits. 

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N?” Steve asked. You shook your head.

“No?!” He and Robin bellowed. “How about now?” He asked, lifting up your top to blow a raspberry on your belly and rapidly squeezed your sides. You screeched as your body tried to shake from side to side but it was no use. 

Robin was now making her way round your neck and ears whilst Steve ran his fingers up to your ribs and down your sides, occasionally blowing a raspberry on your tummy and tasering your hips. 

“Are you enjoying it now, Y/N?” Robin asked, smirking at you. On one hand, you couldn’t take any more. But, on the other hand, you were loving every second. 

“YEHEHES!” You screamed without realising. 

“Ohh is that so?? Little Y/N is loving the tickling?” Steve teased, kneading his thumbs into your hips. 

“Coochie, coochie coo,” Robin teased, moving her hands down to your ribs which made you buck. 

Your laughter turned silent as the baby talk made the tickling so much worse. Steve and Robin exchanged a smile before stopping their attack. You lay on the ground, still pinned by the two of them, but catching your breath nevertheless. 

“You are absolutely adorable, Y/N,” Robin gave your armpit one more quick tickle to make you squeak. 

“I think it’s time we left. If the Russians made it up here then they most definitely heard you screaming,” Steve laughed, getting off of you and helping you up. “Besides, we can wreck you soo much more when we get home,” Steve put his arm around you and tickled your tummy. You yelped and twisted your body away from his hand which made him just pull you closer and squeeze your sides. 

“Come on Steve, let’s go. You can tickle them more later,” Dustin said, still grinning. 

You were actually quite glad those two were aware now. Cause it meant you were going to be tickled at least every day from now on….

[someone1348]

One piece talk! Spoilers ahead kinda!

I wonder if Robin has ticklish palms/hands? Considering her power I just get a feeling :]

[rigginsstreet]

R*nance being as popular as they are is so weird like 1. Elm*x is right there 2. Tell me you’re shipping two people for standing next to each other without telling me you’re shipping two people for standing next to each other

[honestlyuniversallycupcake]

The air in Robin's living room is thick with the scent of old books and the faint aroma of something delicious baking in the kitchen. Finney, perched on a worn-out armchair, patiently explains the intricacies of quadratic equations to Robin, who sits opposite him, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Finney: "So, if you square both sides of the equation, you get..."

Robin, however, seems more interested in Finney than in the equation. He watches Finney intently, his gaze lingering on the way Finney's lips move as he speaks, the way his fingers trace invisible lines in the air as he explains the concepts.

Robin: "I think I'm getting it, but I'm still a bit confused."

He leans forward, his chair scraping against the floorboards.

Robin: "Maybe, a little hands on learning is in order."

Finney raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.

Finney: "What do you mean?"

Robin grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Robin: "Maybe a little... demonstration."

Before Finney can react, Robin lunges forward, pinning him to the armchair. Finney, startled, tries to push him off, but Robin is surprisingly strong.

Finney: "R-Robin!"

Robin ignores him, his fingers already tracing circles on Finney's ribs.

Robin: "Oh, it tickles, doesn't it, Finn?"

Finney, despite his attempts to remain stoic, can't help but let out a small gasp. Robin's touch is surprisingly gentle, yet it sends shivers down his spine.

Finney: "N-No, stop it."

Robin chuckles, his grip tightening slightly.

Robin: "Oh, but Finn, where's the fun in stopping now?"

He starts tickling Finney's sides, his fingers moving in a rhythmic pattern. Finney tries to wriggle free, but Robin is relentless. He shifts his weight, pinning Finney more securely, his body pressed against his.

Finney: "You're... you're making it worse,"

Finney groans, his laughter starting to bubble up.

Robin leans closer, his breath warm against Finney's ear.

Robin: "Good, I want to hear you laugh."

He then proceeds to blow on Finney's neck. Finney's laughter erupts, a series of high pitched squeals.

Robin, delighted, continues his assault, his touch becoming more intense, more playful. He whispers in Finney's ear, his voice a mixture of teasing and endearment.

Robin: "There you go Finn, those are the sounds I want to hear."

Finney, completely overwhelmed, buries his face in the cushions, his laughter reaching a fever pitch. He tries to fight back, to push Robin away, but he's no match for Robin's strength, his playful determination.

Finally, exhausted and giggling uncontrollably, Finney manages to surrender.

Finney: "O-Okay, I give up!"

Robin, still chuckling, releases his grip.

Robin: "There you go, maybe maths isn't so boring after all."

Finney, still catching his breath, glares at Robin, but he can't help but smile. He might have been thoroughly and utterly tickled, but he wouldn't deny that it had been an... interesting learning experience.

[fluffyfantasticducky]

YESSS KILL HIM

Just imagine the ladies ganging up on Sanji...poor him. But he has to take it! For the ladies~!

[starlightglimglam27666]

OMGZZZZ! WHY IS HIS LAUGH SO CUTE?

Seriously people, tell me! Or don't.

I love that he's canonically ticklish. He's just so adorable when he laughs and I get all happy and excited when one of these scenes happens and it's about time Robin got some tummy tickles. Finally, the Teen Titans franchise has proven that Robin has a ticklish tummy. You can't tell me otherwise!

[august-anon]

Could we please have a fic

Where Tim is still adjusting to being a lil bro and he's still a bit nervous around Jason because the RH incident and Jason is fully aware that his lil bro is scared of him, and then Dick, (very purposefully) tells Jason that Tim is ticklish. Jason decides to use this information.

editing? who's she? (aka i was too lazy to edit a 5.5K tickle fic i just wanted to post it jksdhsdjfh)

also, seeing as my life is consumed by DC/esp the Batfam right now i was compelled to actually do my research for this fic and i went and found teen titans volume 3 #29 and looked through their fight. and dont get me wrong i love a good titans tower fic, tim drake is The whumpable character ever, but it is SO FUNNY to me the way fandom has apparently blown this so out of proportion because skimming that fight between the two it was literally like. the vigilante equivalent of squaring up behind the Waffle House at 3am while Jason is wearing a Party City Robin outfit sdjfhdsfj it was so unserious, he was definitely a theater kid lol, Tim wasn't even busted up that bad the worst he had was a bloody nose and maybe a concussion from the final blow lol

so i leaned more into the canon energy of it (snarky Tim who held his own decently well) because i think the whole fanon "he-almost-murdered-me-and-i'm-traumatized-and-terrified" energy leans into a fear dynamic that i am not necessarily comfortable exploring in a fluffy tickle fic? so i hope that's alright and that you still enjoy this fic even though i didnt full lean into that "scared of jason" energy i think you were looking for!

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Brothers Forged in Laughter

Fandom: Batfamily (no specific source material/continuity -- though i do briefly reference Teen Titans volume 3 #29)

Ship(s): Gen!!! Platonic!! Familial!! No batcest here

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Tim & Ler!Jason (plus a very brief Ler!Dick)

Word Count: 5623 words

Summary: Tim wasn’t Jason's little brother, not really. Just because they got taken in by the same rich asshole did not mean they were related. But, well, the kid was kind of asking for it at this point. Maybe getting tickled to tears on the training mats by your asshole predecessor would become a Robin right-of-passage.

[ao3 link]

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Developing an unspoken sort of truce with the Bats had not been on Jason’s to-do list when he returned to Gotham, especially after his little trip to Titan’s Tower or the explosive confrontation between him, Bruce, and the Joker. Really, Jason blamed Dick. He was like a leech, it was impossible to shake him once he got his teeth sunk in.

Still, it had its benefits. He didn’t have to worry about getting arrested and thrown in Arkham anymore, for one. Not to mention, the Bats left Crime Alley well alone now (bar an Arkham breakout), leaving the neighborhood to Jason’s expertise. But most of all: access to the Batcave.

Jason didn’t necessarily enjoy his visits to the Cave, but there were things that Bruce’s money could buy that Jason had difficulty getting his hands on. For instance, the state-of-the-art lab that was hooked up to the Batcomputer and all its insane processing speed. 

With Batman publicly off on a JL mission and no risk of running into Bruce, Jason didn’t hesitate breaking into the Batcave (was it really breaking in if they never deactivated Jason’s codes in the first place? Jason liked to think so) to study a concoction from his latest Scarecrow copy-cat that thought Crime Alley made a great testing ground. It was just his luck that the little replacement Robin happened to be down in the Cave at the same time, drowning in an oversized hoodie and staring down one of the Batcomputer’s monitors with bloodshot eyes. One of his arms was in a sling, but Jason didn’t keep track of the Bats’ cases enough to know what had caused the injury. He was more wilted than the oregano plant Jason had forgotten at one of his lesser-used safehouses. And, more importantly, he was in Jason’s way.

“Pretty sure little birdies are meant to be resting when their wings get clipped,” Jason called out as he walked up the steps toward the Batcomputer.

The line of Tim’s shoulders went taught as his head snapped around to glare at Jason. “I’m pretty sure zombie crime lords are supposed to stick to Crime Alley.”

Jason held up his sample of knock-off toxin, shaking the liquid inside. “Wouldn’t exactly be here if I didn’t have to.”

Tim’s lips pressed into a thin line as he huffed a breath out through his nose. “Fine.”

Jason rolled his eyes as he turned toward the mass spectrometer, fumbling a bit to set it up properly. It’d been a while since he’d had to use one, and the one in the Cave was a lot newer than the one he’d used as Robin. It didn’t help that the back of his neck burned from the eyes boring into it.

“Don’t need a babysitter, y’know.”

“Like I’m leaving you in the Cave unsupervised.”

Jason scoffed. “What am I gonna do, poison your juice boxes?” The machine finally started running rounds of analysis, so Jason spun around to lean against it, locking his eyes onto Tim. And the stack of soda cans next to him. “Or your Zesti, apparently. Alfred lets you drink all that shit?”

Tim stayed silent, narrowing his eyes.

Jason lit up. “He doesn’t, does he?” He laughed, eyeing the pile of empty cans again. “Maybe we should call him down right now, what do you say?”

Jason started towards Tim and the Batcomputer, only meaning to ruffle his hair, maybe tease him a bit more about his serious sugar addiction, but he came up short as Tim slipped a hand against the underside of the Batcomputer’s desk, fingers subtly searching. Jason knew there was a panic button under there, even though he’d never had to use it during his time as Robin. It would send alerts to Alfred, to Dick, to every device of Bruce’s – hell, it might even send alerts to Clark or Diana at this point. Jason really didn’t need Superman busting in with a disgruntled Batman in his arms while he was trying to get work done.

So he backed off, raising his hands in mocking surrender as he leaned back against the machinery behind him, playing it off with a sarcastic, “Damn then, Boy Wonder, keep your secrets.”

The rest of Jason’s visit to the Cave was spent in tense silence, only broken in brief intervals to discuss the specifics of Jason’s case and the results of the toxin analysis. Turns out it was developed from an older strain of Crane’s – the most current fear toxin antidote could wipe it out no problem.

It didn’t leave him as satisfied as it should have, feeling all off-kilter as he mounted his motorcycle and started his drive back to Crime Alley. He couldn’t shake the hard look in Tim’s eyes as his fingers searched the bottom of the desk. It was fucking infuriating. What should he care if the newest little Robin was scared of him, after all? He and the Bats weren’t a team, and Robin certainly wasn’t his responsibility.

Maybe Jason had inhaled a little of the toxin when running the analysis. That was all.

*     *     *

Scared wasn’t really the right word, Jason realized over time. Because Tim was very obviously not afraid of him. He would poke and prod at Jason, even outright mock him sometimes. His glares were fierce and intense, his tone short and snappy. At times, he almost seemed to be seeking out a fight, like he wanted a rematch, to prove the words he said back at Titan’s Tower.

“Do you think you’re that good now? Do you really, Tim?”

“Yes.”

Wary seemed more accurate. He wasn’t frightened of Jason, but he was mostly certainly on edge. Even more so when Jason started visiting the Manor itself, finally giving in to Alfred and Dick’s invitations (though he still staunchly refused the invitations for family dinners – no way in hell he was being civil with Bruce for that long.). Tim would eye Jason like one would a particularly reactive dog – cautious and ready to act, but without any outright fear or anxiety.

And Jason… he could live with that. He didn’t particularly enjoy it, but it’s not like they were family or anything. Just because Bruce took in the kid didn’t make them brothers – and it wasn’t like Bruce was his father anymore, anyway. The itch that grew under Jason’s skin when Tim would look at him like that was purely from having eyes on him, that was all. And he didn’t feel guilty for making the kid feel like that, thank you very much – that lingering weight in his chest was just a perfectly normal reaction to Dick’s puppy-dog eyes every time he and Tim sniped at each other. 

Seriously. No grown man should be able to make that expression. It was unnatural. 

He was so used to Tim’s cold shoulders that when he arrived at the Cave one afternoon, he almost fell off his motorcycle at the bright, cackling laugh that echoed across the stone once he cut his engine. It was boyish, childish, happy – all the things Robin should be. For a moment, it made old bitterness crawl up the back of his throat like bile, but he just as quickly swallowed it back down. He’d already taken out enough on the kid.

The laughter grew louder as he climbed the stairs up to the Batcave’s main platform, growing squeakier or snortier or gigglier in various intervals. By the time he made it up the stairs, Jason had a pretty good idea of what was happening. Turning away from the Batcomputer and towards the training mats easily confirmed it.

Because there was the Boy Wonder, in all his red-faced glory, cackling up a storm as Dick tickled the absolute shit out of him. 

At least Dick had someone besides Jason to take all that tickle-monster energy out on, now.

Dick’s head shot up as Jason’s boot scuffed across the stone, and he shot Jason a grin. “Hey, Little Wing!” Tim’s laughter lightened, growing more giggly. Probably Dick lightening up his attack in case he wanted to participate in the conversation. “What brings you here?”

“Came by to hack into the computer.” Jason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Got some CCTV to look into, and the setup is better here than in any of my safehouses.”

Dick nodded, and Tim’s laughter jumped in pitch again.

“Jesus,” Jason said. “You trying to kill the kid?”

Dick laughed himself and finally let up, leaving Tim to roll onto his side and catch his breath. 

“Nah – but I think I might’ve finally found someone more ticklish than you, Jay.” He gave Jason a meaningful look, winking when he was sure Tim wasn’t looking.

Jason scoffed. He would not be filing that information away for later, thank you very much, because Tim was not his baby brother. “Yeah, whatever. I grew out of that – Lazarus Pits and all.”

Dick narrowed his eyes, a disarming smile on his lips. “Oh, really? That’s too bad. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, then, if I–”

Jason swiftly backed away from the mats. “Yeah, no. I’m busy – came here to work and all. Try to keep it down, will you?” He managed to catch Tim’s eye for a second. “Try his thighs,” he advised. “Or just under his ribs. Makes for great revenge.”

“Wha– Jason!”

Jason turned his back on them, not wanting to unpack the narrow-eyed look Tim gave him. Not even moments later he heard Dick yelp.

“Oh, no you don’t – you’ll regret that!”

And the Cave was quickly filled with laughter once more, two sets of it this time. Not exactly the quiet environment Jason had hoped for when he came by to work, but he would deal. The Batcomputer had high-quality headphones for a reason.

And, privately, Jason thought those two could use more opportunities to smile.

*     *     *

Over time, the uneasy truce settled into something more comfortable. There were times it still chafed, itching at Jason’s skin until he felt he needed to claw it off, but things were rarely so tense anymore that Jason expected to be cut off like a necrotic limb. Hood still handled Crime Alley, the Bats tackled the rest of Gotham, and sometimes, if the cards fell right, they were able to work cases together without any casualties.

Cases like this new up-and-coming gang. They’d spread outside of the Alley, maneuvering in areas where Hood didn’t have as much reach or authority, but they were still spreading through his own territory like slow-acting poison. There was only so much he could do, and so when Dick offered the Bats up to help, Jason agreed with only minimal bitching. 

Which led him to this warehouse rooftop, going on three hours crouched uncomfortably next to Robin, the irritation of a failed stakeout grating against his ribs and skull. The established gang these newbies were trying to ally with hadn’t even shown, and even the newbies were starting to pack up shop, wanting to get back to base before dawn broke. The newest little Robin, however, didn’t seem to be getting the memo that this was a bust.

“Kid,” Hood all but growled. “Let’s go, there’s nothing more for us here.”

Robin scoffed, still laying on his stomach and not bothering to drop the binoculars to have a conversation with Hood. “Something might still happen. I’m not going to drop this just because you’re getting impatient.”

A flash of irritation bubbled up in Hood’s chest, frustration coiling hot in his stomach. The gang was leaving, Hood was starving, his knees ached from crouching on this roof all night, and he really should’ve told Dick no when Robin was offered up to help with the stakeout. But of course, the Bat himself was too busy with some last-minute JL business, and Nightwing had his own problems in Bludhaven to deal with. The worst part was that Robin was right, something could still happen, but Hood sincerely doubted it. They hadn’t gotten any new or relevant info in the past two hours, and Hood was ready to stuff his face with some greasy fast food and pass out for the next six hours.

And so as the newbies finished loading up their vehicles and driving off, Hood reached over to snatch the binoculars from Robin. Somehow, even with his face buried behind the plastic, he knew Hood was coming and shifted out of the way, thrusting a foot into Hood’s chest to try and hold him back. Hood’s height was an advantage here, but Robin still refused to let go of the binoculars, staring after the newbies’ vehicles as if they held the answers to the universe. 

And Hood, overtired and ready to be out of all this goddamned armor and in bed, let his instincts take over again. He jabbed one hand up under Robin’s arm, poking and prodding at the softer spot in the armor designed for mobility. Robin made an awkward squawking sound, his arm shooting down to protect the vulnerable spot and cutting the grip he had on the binoculars by half. Hood easily wrenched them from his hand after that, tucking them into an inner pocket in his leather jacket.

“Come on,” Hood said, standing and brushing himself off like nothing happened. “Batburger, I’m buying.”

Robin scowled at him, eyes unreadable behind the white-out lenses of the domino, and slowly rose to his feet. “Fine. But I want Jokerized fries, and I don’t care how you feel about it.”

*     *     *

Jason had to wonder if the kid ever slept. Every time he came by the Cave, Tim was there too – training, running samples, working cases on the Batcomputer – no matter what absurd hour he arrived. Jason let out a loud, long, obnoxious sigh as he cleared the stairs to the main platform of the Batcave, and Tim immediately whipped around and glared at him over the back of the desk chair.

“Can I help you?” Tim snapped.

“I need the computer.” Jason kicked the base of the desk chair as he approached, propelling it several inches to the left. 

Tim’s scowl deepened, and he rolled the chair back into position. “Well you can wait. I’m busy with a case.”

Instead of arguing further, Jason opted for the quickest route of success. He grabbed the back of the desk chair, spun it around so Tim was no longer facing the desk, and unceremoniously dumped him out of the seat. Tim squawked as he stumbled out of the chair, but regained his footing quickly and immediately trying to bolt back into the seat. Jason smirked and yanked it away, sending it rolling a few feet behind him.

“Whoops.”

Tim pursed his lips. “Real mature.”

Jason laid a hand over his heart and cocked his head to the side. “Ouch. You wound me. Truly.”

Tim glared at him, but his eyes flicked towards the desk chair behind Jason. They burst into motion at the same time – Tim lunging towards the chair, and Jason lunging towards Tim. After a brief tussle, Jason yanked Tim into a headlock, and for a brief second the two of them went eerily still. Jason loosened his grip, making the hold easy to break, but didn’t let go. Tim stayed frozen for a moment longer before tilting his head up, giving Jason a challenging look.

Jason’s mind warred with itself for a few moments. Not my little brother, one side of his brain said. Isn’t he, though? another replied. He had, unfortunately, filed away that information Dick had given him, as much as he tried to ignore it. And, well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it? He didn’t think he’d even given Tim back his Bat-noculars.

A moment passed, and Jason suddenly lunged, latching his free hand onto Tim’s side and squeezing away. Tim jerked in his grip, squealing as a smile forced its way onto his face. One hand went towards prying Jason’s off his side, while the other came and clutched at the forearm around his throat for stability. Jason grinned and allowed the hand to crawl up Tim’s side, carefully keeping his headlock loose so that Tim wouldn’t really feel trapped. The second Jason’s fingers touched his ribs and a real laugh jumped out from Tim’s throat, he was out of Jason’s grip in seconds. Tim stood across from him, giving him another one of those uncomfortably calculating looks, though the blush rushing to his cheeks diminished it slightly.

“Fine,” Tim said eventually. “I should head up and get a snack anyways.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. 

“But I’m coming back down in two hours, and I will be getting back to my case. Whether you’re done on the computer or not.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, sure thing, Timberly. Whatever you say.”

*     *     *

Jason was at the Manor for family dinner.

His skin itched at the thought as he sped into the Cave on his motorcycle – he never entered through the Manor proper, not in all these months, something about that just made it too real, too raw – and threw his riding gear off. Bruce was going to be there – not Batman, Bruce, and he hadn’t really interacted with the man outside the mask since he came back – but so were Dick and Alfred. And so was Tim.

Bit by bit, the kid had been relaxing around him. They worked cases together (and with Nightwing) when Hood needed a Bat, or when the birds needed his help instead. He didn’t tense whenever Jason came through the Cave anymore, didn’t eye Jason with suspicion when they crossed paths on patrol. He still stared a lot, but it’s not like Jason could blame him. He had attacked the kid, and even if he didn’t leave him with more than a concussion and some bruises (and Jason with a grudging sense of respect for the brat, as he walked away with his own array of bruising and a busted nose), the kid was well within his rights to keep his eyes on Jason’s movements.

But still, the progress they had made was, well, nice.

Speak of the devil — the Cave wasn’t empty. Tim was in the training area, dressed in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, running his bo staff drills with a single-minded focus that could rival even Bruce. Jason almost would’ve thought that Tim didn’t realize he was there, but Tim’s eyes flicked his direction as he approached the edge of the training mats. Tim ran through the move he was doing a few more times, making minute posture changes each time until his form was perfect, before dropping out of his stance and facing Jason.

“Not bad,” Jason said.

Tim ticked up an eyebrow. “Thanks.” His gaze trailed over to the stairs. “Alfred’s still making dinner, and Bruce is up there brooding and fussing over everything until it’s perfect. You probably wanna stay down here until the food’s ready.”

The skin around Jason’s eyes tightened as he suppressed a wince. “Yeah, thanks. Where’s Golden Boy?”

The corner of Tim’s mouth twitched up. “He got saddled with ‘distract Bruce’ duty.”

Jason matched Tim’s half-smile. They lapsed into an awkward silence. Jason shoved his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to fidget. Tim stared.

“Let’s spar,” Tim said suddenly, turning on his heel to set aside his bo staff.

Jason stared at him, incredulous. “What?”

“Spar. You and me.”

“Are you sure about that, kid?”

Tim shot him one of those calculating looks over his shoulder. “Do you have anything better to do?”

Jason pursed his lips. “No.”

“Then let’s spar.”

Palms sweating, Jason kicked off his boots, shucked his leather jacket, and set aside the weapons he’d hidden on his person. He set himself up opposite of Tim, lowering his body into a fighting stance.

“Ready?” Tim asked.

“Yup.”

The word was barely out of Jason’s mouth before Tim lunged, immediately going in for a grapple. Jason almost laughed — he far outclassed the little Robin in both weight and strength — and quickly sent the kid sprawling to the mats before backing away. Tim was scowling when he stood up.

“Don’t go easy on me.”

“Don’t worry, Boy Wonder. I’m just getting warmed up.”

Tim lunged first again, feinting left before trying to circle around to Jason’s back on the right. Jason whipped around and blocked the incoming blows, jabs that would’ve left his arms numb and tingling for hours had they landed. On one block, he snagged Tim’s wrist and used it to twirl him halfway around. He shoved Tim forward, harder than he meant to, and let him stumble a few feet as he retreated again.

The spar went on like this for a while, Tim attacking and Jason blocking and retreating. Tim’s scowl got deeper and deeper, and the careful control he usually held in his movements started slipping more and more. After the tenth time Jason knocked Tim’s attack away and retreated, Tim finally snapped.

“Stop babying me! I can take it!”

“Tim—“

“No.” Tim fell back into a ready stance, face red and splotchy from frustration and exertion. “I know what it looks like when you’re fighting for real. So fight me.”

Jason pressed his lips into a thin line. “Fine.”

Jason rushed first this time, and Tim met him in the middle. They exchanged a series of blows (though Jason pulled his punches — this was a spar not a brawl, and he kinda thought Tim had enough of Jason punching his lights out by now), and Tim held his own well. He’d gotten some good hits in during their confrontation at Titan’s Tower, but it was clear he had improved since losing to Jason back then. If Tim had been in a better state, he might’ve been able to hold out against Jason’s onslaught for a while.

As it was, Tim had clearly been training for a while before Jason had come in and had already been fatigued, and his lingering frustration from Jason’s kid-gloves was obviously making him sloppy. With Jason’s bulk and sheer strength, he had Tim pinned to the ground in minutes. Tim grunted and growled and struggled under him, trying to free himself, but Jason had both his arms pinned above his head and had settled his bulk over Tim’s thighs so he couldn’t flip their positions or kick Jason off.

“Satisfied?” Jason asked dryly.

Tim didn’t reply, twisting his wrists to test Jason’s grip.

“Ready to hit the showers? Alfred probably won’t be happy if we come to dinner all drenched in sweat.”

Tim twisted his hips, trying to throw Jason off but unable to get the leverage to move his considerable weight. “No, fuck you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “Damn, Timber, you kiss Alfred with that mouth?”

Tim paid him no mind, continuing to hiss and spit under him. Honestly, it reminded Jason a lot of when he was Robin. Whenever Dick beat him in a spar, he would hiss and spit and carry on, trying to break the hold until Dick got sick of his whining and—

Ah. So that was why Dick had been tickling the kid to tears the other month. 

Jason gave Tim a considering look. For a moment, he wondered if he really had the right. Tim wasn’t his little brother, not really. Just because they got taken in by the same rich asshole did not mean they were related. He’d been telling himself so for months, even if there were moments of doubt. But, well, wasn’t Tim his little brother? They snarked and tussled over the computer and helped each other on cases, and Jason was here to eat family dinner with him for God’s sake.

And hey, maybe getting tickled to tears on the training mats by your asshole predecessor would become a Robin right-of-passage.

Amidst Tim’s struggling, Jason managed to wrangle both his wrists into one hand and pin them firmly above his head. Then, making sure Tim was watching, he hovered a hand over Tim’s stomach and slowly started wiggling his fingers.

Tim gasped and froze. Then, just as quickly, his struggles started up again with a new desperation.

“You wouldn’t.”

Jason grinned, lowering his wiggling fingers another inch. “Say uncle, Timmy.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, dragging his eyes away from the ticklish threat to meet Jason’s own. “Do your worst.”

Tim’s mouth clamped shut tight just as Jason’s lowered his hand and touched down on Tim’s stomach. Tim squeezed his eyes shut and squirmed, going pink in the face as he tried not to laugh.

Jason laughed for him. “Come on, TimTam, we both know you’re ticklish as shit. No point in not laughing.”

Tim shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to worm away to the left as Jason’s hand traveled to his right side.

“No, it doesn’t tickle? Are you sure?”

Even though his eyes were still closed, Tim turned his face away from Jason, trying to hide behind one of his biceps. Jason grinned wider and jumped his hand over to Tim’s other side, delivering a series of nibbling pinches without warning. Tim squeaked, like the little baby bird he was, and jolted to the right to try and get away.

“I dunno, Baby Bird. Seems like it might tickle.”

Tim made a growling noise in the back of his throat, and Jason couldn’t help but laugh again.

“No? Maybe we should make sure all your nerves are working right, then.”

Tim’s eyes snapped open at that, glassy and watery from the effort of holding back his laughter. Jason made sure to grin at him, smug and toothy and all evil-big-brother, just like Dick used to do to him.

“Tell me, can you feel this?”

His hand shot up and skittered calloused fingertips and blunt fingernails against the exposed side of Tim’s neck. Tim’s head snapped to that side with a muffled squeal, his smile fighting to become open-mouthed and toothy, forcing Tim to bite down on his lip to keep his reactions at bay.

“Hmm, seems promising. How ‘bout here, can you feel that?”

Jason shot back down and vibrated his hand into the center of Tim’s belly. Tim tried to jackknife to protect himself, but with his wrists firmly pinned and Jason’s considerable weight on his thighs, he was forced to stay flat against the mats. He chose to toss his head back against the mats instead, shaking it back and forth furiously.

“No?” Jason asked, voice dripping with faux-concern. “You can’t feel it?”

Tim let an annoyed little groan, but quickly cut it off as it started to take on a giggly tone. Jason was being deliberately unhelpful in the matter, poking his index finger into various spots of Tim’s stomach and vibrating it.

“Right here, can you feel this? What about over here? And here? Come on Timbit, work with me here.”

Tim flinched and twitched at every prod, trembling with suppressed giggles. Jason’s own cheeks hurt from smiling — he could definitely see why Dick tickled the snot out of him so often when he was a kid. This was adorable and hilarious. But he still had yet to make the kid break, which was kinda annoying. Like, hello, how was Jason supposed to tickle the snot out of him if he wouldn’t even laugh? Jason paused for a moment, letting Tim catch his breath as he planned his next attack. Now where was it that made Tim shoot out of his arms the other week…

Oh, that’s right.

Jason put on a mournful look, shaking his head. “Starting to get real concerned here, Timbourine. Maybe we oughtta do a full injury check.” Jason rested his fingers on Tim’s lower ribs. “What do you say?”

Tim gasped, shuffling as far away from Jason’s hand as he could, but Jason followed the movement easily.

“Jason—“ Tim started, but cut himself off, pressing his lips together again.

“What is it you said to me, again? Do my worst, was that it?”

“Jason, I’ll— I’ll buffer Bruce for you tonight. I’ll take on your caseload. I’ll clean your motorcycle, I—“

“As tempting as that all sounds,” Jason had to raise his voice to be heard over Tim’s rambling. “You know what I wanna hear. Admit you lost.” 

Tim’s mouth clamped shut. Of course. How could the latest model not come with that patented stubborn Robin pride?

Jason shrugged, tapping his fingers threateningly against Tim’s ribs, making him squirm. “Suit yourself.”

Jason wasn’t the greatest at picking apart Tim’s expressions, but he’d say the smile forcing its way across Tim’s face was almost giddy.

He started off with a typical injury-check touch, a light press and slide against the individual ribs, just to really play into the game he had set up. Tim’s face scrunched up instantly, obviously trying to hold back his reactions, and his body started squirming with a new fervor. 

“Nerves working here, Timmers?” Jason tickled his middle ribs a bit more deliberately, making Tim’s face spasm. “Seems to me like you might be feeling something. Does it tickle?”

Tim shook his head. Jason sighed.

“You leave me no choice.”

Jason released Tim’s wrists and latched onto either side of his ribs with both hands, tickling mercilessly. Tim’s eyes bugged out of his head as he let out a laugh bordering on a scream. His legs scrambled on the mats behind Jason, searching for leverage or freedom. As Tim’s laughter fell into desperate cackles, Jason couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“Jason! Jay!”

“You know how to make it stop, Timmy.”

Even with his hands free, Jason was discovering that Tim was absolutely useless when he was tickled. Jason attacked lower on his ribcage and Tim’s hands latched onto Jason’s wrists in a feeble, laughter-weakened attempt to pry him off. That only opened up the rest of his ribcage and armpits to attack, which Jason took great advantage of. Tim’s laughter would get more panicky, more shrill, the higher Jason went, but his brain didn’t seem to know how to defend itself — seeing as his hands stayed latched onto Jason’s to try and pull him off.

“Jesus Christ, Baby Bird — how do you even live when you’re this ticklish?”

“Asshole!”

Jason raised an eyebrow, though he wasn’t sure Tim could see it through his squinted, teary eyes. “Be nice. I could make this so much worse.”

“No, no!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Of course, Jason still made it worse anyway. There was a particular spot towards the back of Tim’s ribs, right between the top two on either side, that sent Tim spasming like he’d been electrocuted. Jason laughed as he prodded at the weak points one at a time, watching Tim toss himself in the opposite direction of the ticklish jolts. Finally, he gave Tim a breather, resting his fingers against those spots on his ribs just to keep him giggly and twitchy.

“Last chance for mercy,” Jason said, just barely twitching his fingers to watch Tim jump. “Alfred’ll send someone down soon.”

Tim’s teary eyes went wide. “Wait, Jason, come on–”

“Damn stubborn little Robin.”

Jason dug his fingers in, torturing those little tickle spots as best he could.

“Fuck!” Tim practically screamed before breaking into laughter that would give even the Joker a run for his money. Surprisingly, the hysterical tone of it didn’t even make Jason’s skin crawl. “Uncle!” Tim cried out, and his laughter went silent.

Jason eased up, redirecting his attack lower on Tim’s ribs, though still vibrating his fingers into the nerves mercilessly. “Hm? What was that?”

“You win! Uncle, you win! Jason, come on!”

With a chuckle, Jason heaved himself off of Tim to sit on the mats next to him, ruffling his hair as he caught his breath.

“Fuck you,” Tim said, closing his eyes and relaxing bonelessly into the mats.

“Hey.” Jason raised his hands in surrender. “You could’ve stopped that at any time. Not my fault you’re a stubborn little bitch.”

“I’ll get you for this.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got, like, a hundred pounds on you and I’m twice your height. How do you think you’re accomplishing that, shrimp?”

Tim peeled one eye open to glare at him. “I’ve got Dick.”

Jason froze. Oh, shit.

“That he does,” a cheerful voice chimed in from the direction of the stairs. Dick strode towards them, a slightly feral smile on his face. “And I would be more than happy to help. We never did test your claim about the Lazarus Pit taking away your ticklishness.”

Oh, fuck, actually. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Tim about Dick’s thighs that one time.

Dick’s smile shifted from feral to innocent in the blink of an eye. “But maybe later. Alfred sent me to get you for dinner – and I know he wouldn’t appreciate your B.O. stinking up the dinner table. Hit the showers.”

Jason groaned as he got up, pretending to crack his back even though he wasn’t the slightest bit sore from their sparring or impromptu tickle attack. Then, he reached down and hauled Tim to his feet, shoving him in the direction of the Cave’s locker room ahead of himself. Just as he went to follow, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Good job, big brother,” Dick said, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t travel through the echoing cave. He gave Jason’s shoulder a squeeze.

Jason looked away and scoffed. “Yeah, whatever. Little shit was asking for it.”

Dick laughed and dropped his hand, shoving Jason toward the locker room much like Jason had shoved Tim. He tried not to think about it too hard, instead focusing on how carefully he’d have to watch his back in the future.

No way he was letting Timmy and Dickhead take him down without a fight.

[whereibeme]

Tickletober // day 5 ( August's version ) : "I'M NOT TICKLISH"

- Fandom : Teen Titans 2003

- ler!Cyborg lee!Robin (ft. Beast Boy )

----- Enjoy! -----

I get it that there are tkl scenes in ttg but i needed more 😡 this fandom needs more tkl content i swear

[13thedream]

Characters: (Lee) Sunday, (Ler) Kafka

a/n: this is based off of the Idea that Sunday joined the Stellaron Hunters. I have not done the most recent quest yet - only partially proofread, and my first fic, so do not make fun of it, please. But constructive criticism is encouraged

words: 1,5k

Sunday has had a headache all day today, and his eyes felt sore.

It was no doubt the fault of him staying up for most of the night tearfully, but he was sure that these people played a part in it.

They are unfamiliar; they hardly know him and he hardly knows them. And yet, here they are behaving as if he’d always been a part of the “family”. Arms slung over his shoulders, going out to places as well… Aren’t they meant to be an elite group, the feared and despised Stellaron Hunters? No doubt powerful, and yet, they had so much time on their hands to still be silly.

It is safe to say he is not used to such treatment. Relaxing, sitting back and doing nothing, having fun - yet he is neither relaxed or having fun. The thought of his sister laid heavy in his mind - the way she looked so tired on the television, and it tugged at his big brother instincts to sometimes see her wings not preened.

Sunday sighed quietly, his face buried in gloved hands as he leaned back against the sofa he sat on. He regrets now not bringing any of his books, or his journal; then again, he had to leave in such a rush, there simply was no time.

A tiny breeze fluttered the feathers of his left wing, and it twitched. He ignored it, groaning as he burdened himself with thoughts of his sister. What if she’s not feeding herself properly? What if she’s spending her nights crying?

Another breeze, another twitch.

Maybe she hates him. No- Robin would never, yet he found himself wishing she would. He hates himself so much, and he’s just pulling her down with him.

“...day.. Sunday.-” Something delicately traced down his wing, and Sunday would forever deny the startled, squeaky “eep!” He had let out. He whipped around, golden eyes wide, meeting the even and somewhat curious gaze of Kafka.

She was smirking; he felt his cheeks heat up at his own embarrassing reaction - and his damned wings were now curling around his cheeks too, as if he were some shy child hiding his face.

Clearing his throat, Sunday spoke, “..Good afternoon, Miss Kafka,” A polite greeting, choosing to move past what had just happened.

“Hey, angel,” she replied, that stupid smirk never leaving, and he felt his skin prick from the nickname. Angel? Audacious to call him anything other than his own name - yet, he held no power here, so he may as well accept it.

Kafka continued to speak casually, “I’ve been calling your name for a while. D’you wanna have dinner with us later?”

Sunday huffed quietly at the thought alone. Dinner with that barbaric swordsman, the moving suit of armor, a literal cat, and the girl who can’t put her phone down? Forget it. The most normally behaving person there would be Kafka, and that’s saying a lot.

“No.” Sunday grumbled, before clearing his throat once more and fixing himself, “...No, thank you. I will get my own.”

Kafka merely shrugged one shoulder, propping up her face on a hand as she observed him. When had she sat down beside him? Sunday met her gaze for a couple of seconds before glancing away, feathers puffing up. What does she still want?

“No problem. You seem tense,” the woman commented offhandedly, and he looked back out of politeness.

“How could I not be?” Sunday replied, tone cool and curt. Kafka shrugged again, raising one eyebrow as she observed him a moment longer.

“Fair point. But no one’s coming after you here, y’know?” She pointed out, and he huffed; of course he knew that. They’re in the middle of Xipe-Knows-What, in Xipe-Knows-Where.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m more worried about the company here than anybody looking for me.” Sunday watched reproachfully as Kafka’s expression turned into one of amusement, as well as a mischievousness which had him tensing up further.

“Ah? How come? We’re a loving family here.” She replied, and they could both tell that she was just messing around now. They both knew why.

Sunday sighed, “Well, I don’t feel the slightest bit safe with that swordsman - constantly looking as though he'd strike me down if he had the chance. And that girl is a nuisance. It feels as though her entire personality is just, “Games this,” And “Hacking that,”.” He snorted out - and he felt himself lighten a bit at Kafka’s huffed out laugh.

“...Sam is most likely the most tolerable person,” Her smirk never left for the entire conversation - does this woman even know any other facial expressions..?

“And you are… Hm.” She looked even more smug than usual for a moment at his hesitance, and he grumbled out, “..Mysterious, I suppose. I dislike how unpredictable you get.”

Kafka was silent for a good long moment, just staring at him, before she chuckled, “Might I remind you, Birdie, that you are not so normal for yourself.”

She reached out again, while he was looking elsewhere, and dragged a finger down one of his wings lazily.

Sunday yelped.

His wing flapped, and he whipped around to face her again, cheeks on fire. “Would you please stop that?” He politely snapped, eyebrows furrowing.

She observed, he shifted, trying to cool down his cheeks.

“You’re ticklish,” Kafka finally mused out, tone thoughtful. Sunday sputtered, cheeks ablaze, a huge difference from his usually stoic, cool demeanor.

“What? No. What-? I was just caught of guard.” He replied, shifting away from her on the sofa. Perhaps he should try to respectfully make his leave-

“You laughed a little bit,” Kafka hummed, her eyes narrowing, a nearly predatory look behind them.

“I did not,” Sunday denied, frowning.

“You did.” Kafka’s already smirking lips began curving upwards even further.

“I am not ticklish. Where did you even get that from? Your claim makes little to no se–”

“Alright. Let’s prove it.” Kafka said, and before his brain could even process her words, two hands were firmly gripping his sides, fingertips digging into the flesh.

Sunday let out a surprised, “Aah-ha!” Falling back onto the sofa and attempting to squirm away. It did not tickle so terribly - yet single nerve felt as though it was on fire, and his embarrassment worsened with every little squeak which escaped his lips. He hated his laugh, and he was now sure he hated this damned woman, and her damned smirk, and her damned hands.

“Wait- Wait! Wahahait!” He cursed himself, giggles slipping into his words. His body was jumping, hands reaching down to try and push her’s away, but to no avail. She easily dodged all of his attempts, hands squishing at the sides of his stomach now, only worsening the sensations.

“Gah! Ahahaa! Wahait!” Kafka was smirking, watching the usually uptight Halovian fall apart just from a few touches. His body spasmed when she got closer to his belly, and she chuckled.

“So much for not ticklish, hm?” She hummed out, that predatory glint still in her eyes. He was blushing hard, his laugh a bit awkward - probably from not being genuinely used in so long - and his smaller pair of wings were busy trying to cover up his face.

What an adorable sight.

Her hands teased his belly for a few moments longer, before lowering down on it. Sunday squealed, blushing a dark red now as he lowered his hands to block his sensitive stomach, panting. He heard Kafka click her tongue.

“K-Kafka, thahat’s–!” Suddenly, her hands were in his underarms, those horrid nails scratching at the exposed skin.

“AAah! Kahafka!” He cried out loudly, tone becoming more and more high pitched the longer this went on. His arms slammed down, trying to fruitlessly guard his vulnerable underarms, but that just pushed her hands in deeper, digging into the centers.

His wings were quivering, both sets, and he bucked up wildly. His hair was becoming a mess and his clothing ruffled. Mirthful tears sprung up in his eyes, threatening to fall down his red cheeks, and his chest heaved.

Kafka scratched in his underarms a moment longer before removing her hands altogether, recognizing his limit. She was still smirking, and he breathlessly glared at her.

“...Ruhude.” He panted out, titters still escaping every here and there.

Kafka only smirked, “You had many chances to say stop. You didn’t.”

His cheeks lit up again - Great Xipe, he’d never get over this embarrassment. What’s worse is that she is absolutely correct.

Sitting up, Sunday muttered a quick, “Be quiet..” as he tried to smooth down his clothes. He felt much lighter now, he realized. Not so tense anymore - yet despite that, he still glared at Kafka before moving off of the sofa.

Well. Now he has to go hide in the bathroom for a couple of hours. And possibly die from the embarrassment.

“Excuse me,” he grunted out, and hid his tiny smile in his wing as he left. Kafka replied casually, as if she hadn’t just tickled him senseless, “Seeya.”

Weird - his headache is gone too.