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kanene-yaaay · 8 months ago

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He started it!

Kanene's notes: I think my brain is no longer able to grasp what a 'quick, small fic' is kjhgfdfghjjhgvjhgf somebody this was supposed to be just a small drabble but the cuteness broke me. Somebody save me from the Dogday brain rot please somebody save me...

But anyway! Can't say when I will be able to post again, college just started and so my days are going to be very full :') Still! Hope you all like this!

Warnings: Plenty of raspberries, nibbles and teasy nicknames. Around 3,500 words. Ticklish!Dogday and Ler!Reader. Other than that, nothing, this is pure tooth-rooting fluff. Rip da boi. Also! Once again, I'm obsessed w Felix's writing style where the dialogues and narration are mingled together so all the hugs and thank you's to her :D

[~*~]

Dogday had started it.

Of course it was him. Just like a ray of sunshine, your own personal star, shining and chasing the dark shadows away, he did and now there was no other way this could’ve played out.

“A-angel, please!” His voice glitched, getting lower at the end of his plea, however immediately growing higher again as giggles began filling the space, crackling and buzzing in both despair and delight. “Think about what you’re about to do!”

You hummed and smiled at his squeal, fond and sweet and absolutely devilishly as you remembered how this entire game began.

Every single corner of this factory was dangerous. Even so, there were hostile places where any kind of sound, whisper or even a poorly suppressed gasp could attract the worst kind of attention and immediately break in pieces the fragile peace that warily followed you and Dogday in your path. At the time, you both had been walking through one of these areas for far too long, bathed by complete silence, careful to keep your steps silent and with an alerted kind of tension clinging to your form with each passing second.

That was when, for some reason, Dogday decided that enough was enough. It was his moment to shine.

Where even did the idea come from? Has he been bored?

“You just seemed so stressed!” His tail was wagging so much you could feel the wind it created hitting your legs. An involuntary coo left your mouth at the playful, a tad proud glint in his eyes, which only made his smile bigger and loopier. He tried to tug his hands away to hide his face. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful attempt. “No, no, no! Don’t!”

Anyway, it had been confusing at first. When the giant sentient toy turned in your direction, making fingerguns with his paws and pretending to be firing at something, you immediately spun around in a quick and swift movement, grabpack and firing hand ready to attack pointing in the same direction as him, eyes searching for the danger he was gesturing.

… Stopping to think, he did almost laugh at you that moment, didn’t he? You bet that if you both didn’t have to conceal any and every sound his crackles would’ve rang free and joyfully across the whole factory.

You took an exaggerated deep breath and blew slowly in a faux disappointment, feeling his muscles under you tense and shake with barely concealed titters, a tiny protesting half whine and half plea flying around, his torso squirming.

(Away or closer to the sensations? Both of you knew the answer very well.)

Tsk. You hummed again, only to hear that adorable squeal once more. It took everything to not let him go and dig, to listen those high pitched squeals over and over again and see how many of them you could collect, letting them dance in harmony with his glitching laughter and rumbling chuckles until happiness and joy were the only thing filling his mind and actions, until his smile were wide enough to light up the dark pathway ahead and each tiny, almost imperceptive wiggle, scribble or twitch of your fingers was followed by the lovely, lovely melody of his tickly delight, prompting more and more expectant titters and pleas without you even having to lay a single finger on him.

But the game couldn’t be over so soon. And it was quite fun to see how much giggles you could get even though you weren’t actually doing anything.

(Yet.)

So you pushed down the adoring smile that tried (again) to take over your features and let it morph into a sad expression, slowly shaking your head in a fake disappointment.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a good friend and he almost laughed at you like that… After everything you both have been through, after all the fights and the talks, the hugs and the vents… You see how that is.

“P-please! Angel, just, please!”

No. Nuh-uh. You went back to your previous position, shoving your face in that soft fur. Don’t start with the sugarily sweet nicknames. You were brooding. Moping. Sad. Devastated. Betrayed. In absolute and total pain. There was no angel available right now, please return later.

His only answer was a series of even more glitched squeaks and titters growing stronger and giddier at any second with your silliness, especially when his body involuntarily jumped, already in alert for any attack and still not doing anything to scramble away.

That could be your fault, but in your humble opinion, it wasn’t very clear. Okay, maybe he couldn’t just bring himself to stop and stand still when you kept using every opportunity to nuzzle and mumble on his belly non stop, easily following his torso and quivering stomach around as he wiggled and squirmed in the same place, trying with all his might to not lose himself already with all the ticklish shocks that bolted across his entire midriff with such a simple action. Words (and teases) continue to fall like waves from your lips.

Maybe he just had been bitten by an awful ticklybug! Who would know?

“There is no tick-” Dogday gasped and snickered when you blew air against his fur again, freezing for a second in preparation for a raspberry that didn’t come. Realizing that, he let his head fall on the floor and trashed even more. He tugged his arms again, playfully growling when you kept your hold firm on them and wiggling even more as he turned to stare back at you, a funny kind of energy and antecipation racing each other in his nerves. “There is no ticklebug! It’s you!!”

Oh well.

A pity.

Anyway. Back to the story. That had been how everything began. He later explained his idea for the game, when you were able to exchange words again. From that moment, in total random occasions, one of you would make a gesture in the other’s direction and they would have to quickly react to it. In the most silly and unexpected way, preferentially, as long as you didn’t make any sound while at that.

See, Dogday? No sound.

He yapped in protest, letting out a single surprised, an offended yelp at the accusation. “We don’t need to be quiet here. You’re just teasing me!” Dogday’s hands fell to his sides, no longer trying to pry you away, shoulders shaking with every giggle and eyes watching your every action with joy and expectation.

You keep going.

The playful exchange became a habit between you two at this point, even filling the moments you didn’t exactly need to be quiet. It was a nice way to interact when there were no more words, memories or promises to be exchanged. That is why Dogday didn’t even bat an eye at you when you called his attention by innocently offering both of your hands in his direction, tail lightly wagging as he immediately placed his own paws on yours, a fun, tiny grin appearing on his previously serious and protective expression when you intertwined your fingers.

Which quickly morphed to a wide stare when you locked your grip and jumped on him, bringing both of you to the ground.

So, yeah, Dogday was the one who started it. And now he was trying to shoot his shot again, pulling out the saddest, sweetest puppy eyes in your direction.

“Angeel, please. Mercy!”

Awww.

(That was a bit adorable, you couldn’t lie. It kind of melted your heart. Just a tiny, little bit.)

(Ok. A lot.)

But that was the thing, Dogday, you were being merciful already. Because if your hands were free, you would give him the entire special attack. You would just claw and knead on that cute, truly adorable tummy, taking some precious time to give your attention to his sides and all the scribbles and scratches to his ribs, being sure to go and tickle aaaall of his favorite, ticklish spots over and over and over again, for as long as he wanted.

Wouldn’t that be nice? And, of course, during this your hands would be very, very busy, so he would have to keep his arms nice and snug out of the way. But he could do this for you, right? Even if he was laughing and squirming and crackling his heart out, not even pretending to not love every single moment of this game, or that he wanted it to be over any moment soon.

“Eek! Wait, wait!”

You grinned. See? That was what not being merciful would be. But, stopping to think, those are not bad ideas at all. He really couldn’t stop getting any more adorable, could he?

“Sweetheart!” He squeaked and shook his head, partially in a way to disperse all the restless energy taking over his body and partially in a hopeless attempt to make his big ears cover his flaming face.

Oh.

(It was quite endearing, actually, how he didn’t exactly blush. His smile would get wobblier and the light in his eyes fuzzy and lightly trembling all while he couldn’t decided if he tried to hide his face or kept staring at you with a gaze so full of complete trust, an excited desperation conquering all his features… Honestly it was just as crystal clear as if his face got completely taken over by a strong shade of red, truly.)

Your entire demeanor softened. That nickname was a new one.

(You wouldn’t mind listening to it being giggled out like this again in the future.)

You decided to return the favor.

Yes, gigglebug?

For a piece of time, Dogday froze with wide eyes and a slight ‘bzzz’ sound escaped from his voicebox. Then his squirming grew anew, no longer being able to look at your soft gaze and trying to press his dazzling, gigantic smile on his shoulders, now with his entire body bouncing with barely suppressed snickers.

His tail hit the floor with an endless and quick pace of ‘thump thumpthumpthump’. The confusion in your expression immediately gave place to a wicked smirk.

Hm.

Gigglebug?

He jolted with a yelp.

Silly giggly gigglebug?

Dogday snorts and tries to pry his hands away from yours with a bit more energy than before. Still, his efforts were still half heartedly at best. In turn you just hold them a bit tighter, thumbs lightly rubbing the back of his paws as your tipped your head to the side, - not unlike he himself watched you from time to time - chasing his gaze and maybe or maybe not giving his belly a tiny - so quick and small that it was over in less a blink - nibble until he turned back to watch you with wide fuzzy eyes.

Nope. No hiding that beautiful smile, huh?

His ears perked a little bit and his wide eyes captured yours for a moment, then jumped to your kind hands, your amused, playful glare, his defenseless belly, his captured paws, your suspecting eyes and, eventually, your eyes again.

Then, without breaking contant, he shut his mouth, firmly pressing his lips in a tight line as he lowered his head to his shoulder, successfully hiding, indeed, that beautiful smile.

Ah.

You see how that is.

Dogdayy ~

He let out a muffled giggle, only pressing his face even more on his shoulder, turning away from you.

Well, since he was insisting so much…

You discreetly adjusted your position, took a deep breath and immediately attacked his lower belly.

His entire torso spasmed, almost throwing you out of him with the sudden move, a loud peal of laughter instantly filling the air as the horrible, awfully ticklish vibrations fuelled his trashing, the raspberry spreading across every single of his nerves, leaving each and every one of them tingling and buzzing.

Another deep breath. Another long, long raspberry and a crackling squeal was ripped from his voicebox, more and more following suit as you chased every sensitive path of fur non stop, not losing a single opportunity to shake your head to increase the sensations, giggling a bit at how that never failed to glitch his words and bring more squeaks to the lovely melody of his laughter.

You spared a couple of tiny raspberries for his sides, literally feeling how they made him arch his back. That only gave you even more access to plenty of sensitive, ticklish spots that you were more than happy to latch on and tickle as if the future safety of the entire world depended on sending him to a total madness and increasing your collection of “cute-sounds-that-Dogday-does”.

You experimentally began nibbling that spot that connected his back and side, right below his belt, if you were not mistaken this would…

Snorts took over the giant toy and in a blink his back immediately clued back on the floor, torso trying and failing in curling into a defensive ball. The new round of raspberries vibrated across his side and teased his entire ribcage, tickling each bone and nerve.

Dogday tried to muffle his reactions on his shoulder, but with each nibble, each raspberry, tease and nuzzle he felt his mind getting more and more overpowered by the realization that it tickled. It tickled so, so, so much and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when his face seemed to be set aflame and his entire body kept getting closer and closer from giving up completely from his squirms and wiggles to let himself succumb to the joyful, insane, funny and fun sensation. Not when his angel kept looking at him with so much amusement and fondness that only succeeded to make him feel even more ticklish and the fact that his giggles weren’t the only ones filling the room made him feel extra silly and made his heart melt with delight. When he was able to just laugh and squeal his heart out, carefree and loud and happy.

How could anyone blame him, then, when he saw with the corner of his eyes you lift your head and so he decided to push his luck more, continuing to hide his big, gigantic, loopy smile.

Ohoho.

So, your dear gigglebug was trying to keep all those sweet reactions away from you, even after you worked so hard for every single one of them? Now, that really wasn’t fair, was it?

You gave him a break, no longer tickling him. Still, having your voice so close made his torso instinctively try to wiggle away, which in itself seemed to only re-alight all the reminiscent tingling on his skin, making the tickly sensation it go back to buzz and dance on his nerves, increasing the phantom tickles, each passing second and taunting word making them feel worse than before. All of this only kept Dogday stuck into an infinite sea of unstoppable, hysterical titters and snickers.

Do you think this is fair at all, gigglebug?

He shook his head and stopped, then nodded and then shook it again, giving you a glimpse of shiny eyes for a second before it disappeared once more on his fur.

Well, you think this isn’t fair at all. But that is fine. You both can stay here all day long if needed, as long it takes until you get to see that beautiful blushy face and dazzling smile. Yep. That sounds like a good, no, perfect idea! He would love this, right? To keep giggling and laughing and squealing here while being tickled silly forever and ever?

“Sweheheart!”

Oh! You wonder who said that! It sounded like your dear friend Dogday, but it couldn’t be him, right? No, not really. He was too busy hiding away from his best friend, as it seems.

Aw, that was a pity, truly. He was such a kind, awesome presence in your life. With a personality able to brighten everyone’s life and a trustful companion that was incredibly kind and strong. Always ready to help without a second thought or a blink of an eye, to give a hand, a comforting hug or a remark that would bring you straight to reality.

Besides, he was kind of cute, too. Like a sweet, excited puppy. He had this loud, booming laughter that, when you got him laughing for long enough, started to descend into a series of crackles that never failed to make him snort and bounce around in joy until his voice box began to glitch in the most endearing and funny way.

“No more teasing! No more!” Dogday’s titters grew to hysterical high pitched giggles and he scrunched up his neck, trying to best to curl up and disappear as more and more heat spread across his face. His tail would make a hole into the factory’s ground at this rate.

See? It was the most adorably adorable thing, honestly.

Actually…

You adjusted yourself again and his bubbly giggles developed to chuckles, paws tugging from your grip once again. He knew very well what that tune of yours meant.

You kind of missed listening to his laughter…

And so, with a swift move you freed your hands, fastly shoving them on Dogday’s armpits before he could even react.

Without wasting a single second, you digged.

A shriek took over every other sound in the place. And then other as you pushed your face right in the middle of his tummy, nibbling and pressing raspberries on it without mercy all while your fingers scratched, scribbled and drummed on his pits with no abandon, nimble fingers dancing on the spot for a few minutes before jumping to other one, to prevent him to get used to the sensation.

Dogday just fell limply on the floor, his shoulders, torso and belly shook with the force of his laughter, and his arms kept jumping from hiding his face to cluing on his sides in a futile attempt to stop the wiggling from worming their way, once more, to his ribs or neck. Each snort, squeal, yelp, snicker, crackle and every other sound swirled freely in the air, especially when a raspberry found a new sensitive spot that even he didn’t know about - since when his collarbone was so ticklish? - and focused all their attention there until all his cute and fun reactions slowed to a string of bubbly, hysterical giggles and his friend went on the look for another sweet tickle spot.

His neck, ribs, armpits, stomach, even his own ears had not been safe from the playful attack. A few pieces of time passed until it slowed to an incredible, horrible kind of soft tickling that led to a series of tittering sniggers to spill from his lips and to a beginning of tears to gather in the corner of his eyes.

At this point, his paws came and gently rested on your hands, engulfing them completely, glimmering eyes finding yours as the light scribbling instinctively squirm lazily from one side to other.

You stopped, entire form melting, the playful smirk plastered on your features losing the sharpness of its corners as a proud fondness took over. You freed one hand to caress the fur of his head, chuckling with drops of amusement and care when he closed his eyes and all his muscles relaxed completely at that, his tail now going back and forth in a tired but content wag. He nuzzled your hand.

There is it. My beautiful smile.

He groaned, pulling his ears until they covered his face. “Angel… You’re ruthless.”

Hey, it’s not teasing if it’s true!

Another groan. He muttered something under his breath but didn’t shy away from your touch.

The silence fell like a soft blanket on you, bringing to that dark, horrible place a feeling of safety and care that used to be just a pointless, futile dream, before.

(This was nice. Safe.)

Suddenly, two paws flew like a blur of movement in your direction and you felt your entire world tumble and turn upside down.

You blinked and as your eyes focused, only to find a giant sentient toy who resembled a dog and slowly became your trustful companionship on the last days (hours?) in this factory. Someone you knew that would be right by your side and fight for your safety almost as much as you fought for his.

Although, by the way his mischievous gaze found yours and big arms embraced you in a firm, but still gentle, hug, you must admit you weren’t feeling that safe anymore.

…Dogday?

“No. You’re in friend hug jail. Paying for your friend crimes. You can’t get out.”

You snorted. Glad that you had the sense to start that playful game in the safe area you and Dogday had been clearing and taking care for some time since the ‘You Got To Be a Human and Rest’ episode.

Getting comfortable, you let out a relaxed sigh, snuggling closer, letting your hand softly run on his back in a soft, nice rhythm, not taking too long to feel him melting under the caring touch.

Well, you may be in jail, but your consciousness was clear.

Dogday had started it.

#Ticklish!Dogday #Lee!Dogday #Ler!Reader #Ler!Player #poppy playtime tickles #poppy playtime tickling #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #DOGDAY IS A DEAR HE DESERVES TO LAUGH AND BE SILLY AND PLAYFUL AND HAPPY OK I COULDN'T HELP IT #I like to imagine that Dogday is all giggles and half pleas and protesting babbles and giddy snickers until he actually gets tickled #then he just let everything else go and start laughing non stop without a single care in the world #if i had a nickel everytime I had to be careful while describing raspberries and nibbles w a character that had trauma related to being-#well-#nibbled on but not in a tickly fun way. I would have two nickels. Which isn't a lot. But it's weird that happened twice...#lkjhgfghjkolploijuh anyway!! hope you all have a nice week! take care <3 #xreader #they are both incredibly silly you honor #I was writing another fic where reader and dogday find his own small smiling critter toy version and befriend it but this one will be super #-long and time is scarse so I decided to finish this playful idea here first and then try to write the other when I can #Let's see how that plays out :D

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wishitweresummer · 1 year ago

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Seriously this is so goodddd

um hai…. new snf fic :3c sapnap teaching george how to drive.

#just read the tags #but it’s sfw #snf #snf kiss #non tickle fic

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xxstr4wb3rry-m1lkxx · 1 month ago

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You ever just hear someone laugh and its the CUTEST thing you've ever heard and the feral part of your brain just violently clicks on like

yes...YES....₲łVɆ ₥Ɇ ₥ØⱤɆ!!!

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saturnzskyzz · 16 days ago

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𝙲𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝙰 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎

Word count: 2,009

Warning: Mature audiences only, you have been warned | inappropriate jokes and comments (you know how deadpool is) this is just fiction

𝙰/𝙽: 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍?? 𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁!! 𝙰𝙰𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷!!! 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚘.. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 😟. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚗-𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌!! 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!! 𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶!!!

Summary: Wade drags Logan along to a very long car ride followed to be his personal Uber, and best friend, to visit new Mexico for a week. Upon reading articles on the Google home page-wade- he realizes that a certain individual looks familiar from an article he read one time. So, he strikes a very interesting conversation with said individual, and finds something quite interesting and intriguing!

Divider credits

The sound of a new Honda Civic driving on an empty road could be thought of as two heroes sitting in the front seats of the driving vehicle. With the passenger jamming out to the music, and the driver peacefully in his thoughts while concentrating on the road; It was truly a cinematic experience if the two had thought about this exact moment in third person.

"Ow! Would you be mindful of where you're playing your imaginary drum set, bub?" As if the sound didn't come from Hugh Jackman himself, Logan Howlett was shown in third person, forgetting the whole "cinematic third person view" with the Honda Civic, which was what Wade- who hit the victim- had thought about.

"Oopsie daisy! It's like these drumsticks have a mind of its own, huh?" Wade huffed out a breath as he continued to slam his hands in the air to play what was heard on the radio.

Logan nodded his head disapprovingly like a father, and just continued on with the road. The peace continues.

It's not everyday that they have these peaceful drives like this. Other than when they were having to drive to where the facility of where their timelines were controlled and kept under surveillance as to not be disturbed by any high powerful GOD. Yeah, that may be pushing it. Anyway, The point is that Wade and Logan, though the claw handling mortal didn't want to admit it, they were glad they had this long drive again. The beauty of nature was an A+.

"You need to tell them why we're on the road, silly!" Wade blurted out as he was now turned, facing the back seats like he was talking to passengers.

"The fuck is you lookin' at back there, Wade?" Logan questioned, yet not really wanting to know the reason since he's trying to drive to- Oh,, right!

The reason why they were on the road is because Wade decided it would be a lovely idea to have the two take a break from their old apartment, and take a vacation over to New Mexico!

The beaches there looked lovely from the Google pictures Wade had pulled up once, just once, so that was all the good reason as to why he wanted to drive there.. Or, to sit there. He made Logan drive.

"Damn right I did!" Wade blurted out yet again, causing Logan to almost jump in his seat, but luckily for his own embarrassment, he only flinched. "Bub, what the fuck are you saying right now?" Logan asked, getting annoyed with him now.

"Oh, sorry peanut! Just reacting to this fic that's currently being typed up. Anyways, nice driving skills by the way! Oscar made sure to bring up the fact that I'm the passenger princess." Wade confidently said, pulling down the sunshade to look at himself in the mirror for some extra dramatics.

Logan glanced at him before looking back at the road in utter confusion. "Wade, you practically forced me to drive, you're not a,, Passenger- whatever you just fuckin' spurred up in your little head. And by the way, I don't trust you behind the wheel."

Wade did a dramatic gasp by that, clutching his imaginary pearls, he whipped his head to look at Logan with almost daggers for eyes. "How dare you not trust me! I am a veeeery trustworthy person, as a matter of fact."

Logan gave Wade a very interesting "oh yeah?" as to let the younger know he's allowed to rant.

"Yes, "oh yeah?"! I am such an oh yeah, trustworthy person: Yukio once left me alone in the X-Men building for half an hour to come back to the place all spiff and span! Not only that, Colossus let me hold one of his very expensive vases all because I wanted to look at it. He let me HOLD IT while looking at it, isn't that a whole lot of trust thrown into one basket?"

Logan chuckled at that. "First off, the only reason she came back to the X-Men building to a very clean interior is because you had trashed it before she even came back. And I don't mean a little trash; you had the whole place covered with things on the ground, broken, and even the walls looked terrible in the pictures you sent me. You had Colossus' help as well as mine and somehow blind Al's help to clean up the entire place in under 15 minutes- which you got scolded for by Colossus afterwards. And for the record, Yukio came back after 30 minutes because she was supposed to be gone for 2 hours helping her girlfriend with whatever they were doing, but I told her about the mess."

Again, Wade had gasped by the betrayal. He was going to bark back in retaliation but Logan had cut him off.

"I'm not done, bub. for the vase, I found that ugly thing in the trash two weeks after the fact that you had had a small obsession with it; which tell me Wade, why was it in the trash all broken up in various sizes of pieces?" Logan asked with a smug look on his face meaning "gotcha" which knowingly pissed Wade off.

"The only reason it was broken in the trash is because Mary Puppins knocked it over when she visited the place with me one morning. Colossus somehow doesn't know about that yet." Wade explained defeatedly. He crossed his arms to emphasize his defeat and frustration.

"No. He knows." Logan corrected. Still with that fucking smug look on his face, like who is this guy?

"How does he know?!" Wade looked at him in shock, desperately waiting for an answer.

"Cuz I told him, you wuss puss."

Damn, was that a jaw to the ground in betrayal². "You mother fucking, cock sucking, animal hating, snitch bitch!" Wade couldn't believe it. Like seriously, who snitches on their best friends?!

"Another thing, those examples were not what I was looking for. I said trustworthy in driving, not just whatever popped into that small skull of yours you call a brain." Logan emphasized that with a finger to Wade's temple, pushing at his head slightly to get his comedic relief friend to be even more ticked off.

"I can't believe you.. How do you go and snitch on your best friend? I'm your homeboy- we're like this!" Wade stuttered out as he crossed his pointer and middle finger to shove it in Logan's face.

"Wade, you're not my- get your hand out of my face, I'm driving here!" Logan said quickly, as he pushed at the offending hand that butted in his personal space.

"What were you gonna say, sweet cheeks? Were you gonna say that I'm not your best friend?" Wade looked at Logan all sad now.

"No, that's not what I.. Friend is a stretch in itself, pal. I appreciate the offer of me moving in with you and Al, but it's been a few years. you know..? Give it some time." Logan explained the best he could. As embarrassing as he worded it, which most likely ruined a bit of his ego, but he had trust issues.

"Just like the author said, you have trust issues, peanut." Wade said in a not-so-sad tone now. He went for crossing his arms again and looked out the window this time.

The car goes silent for a moment, much to Logan's relief since he's driving, and because he wanted to ignore his comment. They got a little over an hour left before getting into New Mexico, so hopefully the car ride ends up being dead silent until then.

. . .

"So about you not trusting my driving-" Wade was about to go on another unimportant rant before he got smacked over the mouth.

"Not. A. Word." Logan said carefully, never once keeping his eyes off the road again.

Wade had wanted to bite back with a sexual comment, but decided not to as he quite wanted his mouth open and not stapled. Yes, his mouth was stapled shut by Logan before.

. . .

Eh, on second thought.

"I'll have you know that my driving skills are immaculate!" Wade said through muffled lips.

"Oh yeah? Then take the fuckin' wheel." Logan said, letting go of the wheel as he was turning. This caused Wade to panic, and roughly took the wheel to make a sharp turn, almost hitting a tree when by passing, but successfully missed it by a smidge.

"What the fuck?!" Wade shouted, looking at Logan then quickly retreating his eyes back on the road.

Logan crossed his arms this time, pulling off his smug face as he looked down at Wade. "We almost hit that tree back there."

"Oh, you think?! You decided to let your masculinity be free while I'm over here trying to not get hit- by the way, it's very hard keeping an eye on the road while in this position.. You sure you didn't just do this because you wanted me to take a whiff of your dick? Because it smells atrocious, you should shower when we get to New Mexico."

Logan uncrossed his arms at that comment and violently pushed Wade out of the way so he could continue on with driving. "Nope. You're way too anxious, and you don't fully concentrate while driving: Remember that one time you drove into town and almost swerved into a pole all because a bird hit your side of the window?"

Wade chuckled at the memory even if it wasn't the best thing to ever happen. "Look, I get jumpy when I'm not expecting things like birds when driving. It's the animal's fault for bumping into my window. Honestly, if I had hit that pole, it should be that fuck ass pigeon who would pay for our expenses." Wade argued.

"Yeah, like that's a possibility. Don't forget the time you looked at a building for more than 5 seconds causing us to pass a red light." Logan said with a growl. That memory still pissed the Wolverine off.

"Oh yeah, ha! How could I forget you being generous to me for once?" Wade awed at the memory.

Logan was not pleased by that answer. "I had to pay for your ticket so then Al wouldn't have had to pay for it herself. I didn't do it for you, I did it for her. God knows how much money she has left with how much you steal from her. And I'm not talking about the money." Logan pointed at Wade then, almost instantly catching him pulling out a small bag of white powder with letters written on it.

"Wade.. Don't fuckin' tell me you stole her cocaine again?! As soon as I say something about you stealing, you just casually pull it out?!" Logan shouted.

"I can casually pull out something else if you really want me to." When Wade looked at Logan expecting an annoyed comment, all that Logan did was look at him with disgust. "Look, I only pulled this out to gain a reaction from you for the viewers who's reading right now. Hey viewers!" Wade turned to face the back seat once again. This caused Logan to look back twice, only to be met with empty seats.

"Jesus- Wade, you make no sense whatsoever whenever I'm with you. It drives me insane sometimes." Logan breathed out, exhausted by all the talking suddenly. (Ahh, don't you just love a social battery?)

Wade looked at Logan and then out the car window to see a sign that says "Welcome to New Mexico!"

"Hey look! We made it, honey. Time to go visit the kids, huh?" Wade said excitedly, earning a scoff from Logan.

Once again, Wade is picturing the car in third person view, as he imagines the car drifting away from the camera, as the welcome sign appears in front. After a while, the screen will start to fade and soon it all goes black, waiting for a new chapter to come.

"This is going to be a fun vacation."

#non tickles #deadpool and wolverine #Deadpool 3 #Venom #Crossover fic #writers of tumblr #wade wilson #logan howlett #eddie brock #marvle fic #Marvel #Fiction #Story

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sunsetsandsunshine · 8 months ago

Text

~ 𝚃𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙸𝙼 𝚂𝙾𝙱𝙱𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙶𝙶𝙶𝙶. 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝙼𝙽𝚃 𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚠— 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚘’𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚌 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚟𝚋𝚏𝚋𝚏𝚑𝚍𝚓𝚓 𝙸 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 ✊🏾🥲…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟻𝟷𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. (𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝? 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝 = 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 = 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜/𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙? 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝, 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝).

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @itzsana-kiddingmenow

@saturnzskyzz @giggly-cloud @savemeafruitjuice

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @tmntalways @my-l0v3r-v3rse

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝟷𝟶𝟷% 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 <𝟹

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

̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜…𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 /𝚛𝚎𝚏˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Alright. Hear Mikey out on this one, okay? Because in all honesty, this was originally a fire plan. A lit plan. Some might say that the fire from the plan was sooooo hot it was practically blazing due to the fact of how awesome it was.

…okay. Well perhaps maybe people don’t say that exact term but they definitely should!

Anyways, it started off as a pretty chill day for the orange banded teen. I mean, it was Summer for crying out loud! These next few months were supposed to be absolutely nothing but pure chillness.

If your Summer isn’t even a bit chill in the slightest, then you’re doing something totally wrong.

Daylight savings was over, school was over and most importantly…homework was over! (Besides the fact that Mikey and his brother’s are forced to do dumb reading reports over the break because the school system dumb)…But other than that, Michelangelo was basically free! Free as a bird.

And so, like any sane studious kid that has been in High school for about a year…Mikey has been doing something he hasn’t done in a while since school started…

…Absolutely nothing.

He’s been spending the past week or two playing Roblox on his IPad while eating Doritos mixed with Skittles.

Look, don’t even judge until you try, it’s actually pretty good!

But anyways, as Mikey was playing Flee the Facility, he randomly came to terms with the fact that he needed to steal some of his brother’s clothes for today…

Random thought, I know.

The youngest has (and always will) politely take his brother’s clothes during the Summer— preferably hoodies and/or shirts. It’s basically a forced hand-me-down/Yard sale the youngest turtle always looks forward to. And today marked the 29th of June— 8 days from June 22nd.

And if you’re unfamiliar, the 22nd of June marked the official end of Spring and official start of Summer! So the smallest turtle’s annual raid of his elder brother’s clothes was loooooong overdue.

Last Summer, Mikey took Raph’s Detroit Become Human t-shirt, his WWE shirt, one of his polos and one of his The Walking Dead t-shirts (Raph had a TON).

And the Summer before that, Mikey took Leo’s Squidward hoodie. And…yeah. That was basically it— the eldest was a pretty bland guy and there was really nothing worth taking from his wardrobe.

So if you did your Math correctly, you would realize that this year it was Donnie’s turn. And so that’s what the youngest of the turtle teens was planning…

How the absolute hell could he take some of his immediate older brother’s clothes without taking ALL of them?

Because believe it or not, the nerdy turtle of the group had a pretty good fashion taste and sense. His style was simple but not too bland or standout-ish. Donnie’s style was just a simple array of sweatshirts— a piece of clothing the smallest turtle could never EVER have too much of.

But the tech-y turtle of the family definitely did. Just looking at his side of the shared bedroom, you could see sweatshirts and hoodies galore just scattered everywhere.

The orange banded mutant looked through the sweatshirts and hoodies, trying to figure out which one he should now claim as his own.

A Sailor Moon hoodie? Too bright.

An MHA sweatshirt? Too basic.

An Attack on Titan hoodie? Too edgy.

The youngest sighed in frustration, digging through his brother’s mountain of clothes before settling on a nice black hoodie with Gojo Satoru on it.

…what? Gojo Satoru was cool! Even though the orange banded turtle had only seen him in TikTok edits…those edit’s were pretty fire.

Just like his plan of taking his brother’s anime merch because he simply just could.

The orange banded teen looked at himself in the mirror right next to Donnie’s tent, humming the popular yet overused tune that Gojo is associated with to himself, trying (and failing) to do the popular dance.

“Ugh…how did Donnie do it again…?” The chocolate eyed teen inquired, attempting to do the dance one last time before lightly falling on his shell; the other sweatshirts and hoodies breaking his fall.

“Dude…” A voice giggled behind him.

Mikey’s eyes widened at the sudden but familiar voice, glancing upwards to lock eyes with the one and only Donatello, peering down at him and smirking.

“DONNIE!” Mikey shouted in surprise, getting up and whirling around so that he faced his immediate older brother as he tried to look as casual as possible, “Donatello! Dee! Don-bon…what’s…up…?” The youngest grimaced, sending awkward finger-guns as the hood to the hoodie fell down, completely covering his eyes due to how big it was on him.

The elder snickered, putting a hand over his mouth as he tried to stifle them a little. “Oh shut up…” Mikey huffed, taking the hood off as the other turtle chuckled in amusement again, going to his younger brother and standing right next to him.

“My sweatshirt literally engulfs you.” The turtle that wielded glasses chuckled soflty which only caused the youngest to roll his eyes annoyed at the entire situation. “Shut. Up.” He pouted, crossing his arms as he glared at his older brother, “It looks good on me!”

“It swallows you…” The other said back.

“I’LL SWALLOW YOU!” Mikey retorted, turning away from his brother angrily.

The purple loving teen sighed fondly and laughed slightly at the automatic retort, raising a teasing brow at his younger brother, “Are you attempting at trying to look like me~?”

The orange banded turtle blushed profusely, glaring at the other turtle’s question, “HELL NO.”

“Thehen why do you hahave the hoodie I wear literally everywhere? You know damn well Gojo is my go-to anime character of all time.”

Michelangelo grumbled, looking to the side of him as he swayed his arms at his sides. Okay…well, perhaps out of context it did seem like he was trying to look like Donnie. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t.

The only reason why the youngest “steals” clothes from his brother’s is because…well, he can and it’s easy. And it’s just…sorta comforting in a way. Not the stealing part…but…

Look— it’s dumb and confusing don’t think about it too much.

The elder teen huffed out a small laugh, “Why did you choose my Gojo Satoru hoodie of all things, though?”

“…I keep seeing him on TikTok and he’s the only anime character that hasn’t made me cry out of cringe in a way...”

“Ooookay. Good for you, bud.” Donnie nodded, putting his hand out “Now give it here. Me and the TMLBANOT21stC are meeting later today to have a JJK meeting.”

The chocolate eyed turtle blinked, “Your going to…what…?”

“My club stands for The Most Logical, Big-minded, Anime Nerds of the 21st century. Duh.” The honey brown eyed mutant said sassily, “Now give me back my hoodie or I’ll be late!”

Mikey blinked once more, a small cheeky smile plastering on his face, “And what if I don’t want to?”

“Michaelangelo—“

And with that, the smallest turtle ran out of the shared room, moving his legs as fast as he could that the other in the room just saw an orange and green blur sprint past him.

“MIKEY!!!” Donnie howled angrily, running out of the room to catch up with him. The second youngest bumped in between the two eldest turtles, quickly apologizing to them as he ran after the youngest.

The leader in blue scratched his head confused, “Should we…?”

“Nah.” Raph commented.

Donnie was internally groaning. If he couldn’t get his hoodie back from his brother in the next 10 minutes he would be late to his own club.

Imagine that.

…Exactly! You can’t.

The second youngest looked around the living room, trying to figure out just where his little brother was. In the last couple of years, the honey brown teen didn’t really mind the youngest taking some of his clothes (even if Donnie would’ve preferred him just normally asking).

But Donnie needed this hoodie. More than anything and one way or another he would get it.

Suddenly…an idea popped into the geniuses brain, smirking widely as he leaned on the wall. He closed the door without stepping outside of the kitchen, still in the room to make it seem like he left. The youngest peeked from behind the couch, him and his brother making immediate eye contact.

Ha. Got em.

The anime loving turtle basically lunged at the smaller turtle, sitting on top of him as the other tried to squirm away. “I GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE TURD!” The purple cladded teen smirked triumphantly, crossing his arms and watching amusedly as his little brother tried to escape.

“Just give me back my hoodie, man. You’re making it seem like I’m asking you for your liver.”

“YOU DID ONCE!!!”

“That was for a Bio experiment.” The elder corrected almost immediately, “But that’s not the point just— UGH! Give me my dang hoodie!!!”

“NO!!!”

The purple banded turtle glared, uncrossing his arms as he wiggled his fingers in the air, “Wanna do this the hard way? Because we can do the hard way, little brother…”

The brown eyed mutant paled, shaking his head back and forth at the question. Well…this didn’t go exactly as planned.

Donnie just scoffed, his hands immediately going for the other’s underarms but Mikey put his arms down, sputtery giggles escaping his mouth as he did so. “P-Plehease! Deehee!”

“Don’t 'plehease Deehee' me! Give back me back my JJK hoodie!”

“BuHUT—“

The elder turtle lost his patience, effortlessly raising the other’s arms as he scribbled his free hand’s fingers all over his underarms. The smallest turtle squawked, falling into loud giggles. He kicked his legs underneath his older brother, “DOHOHON— NOHO!”

“Someone is sensitive here!” Donnie mused.

“STAHAP— I AHAM NAHAT!!”

“You’re not? Not what~? Ticklish~?” The anime loving turtle asked, his smiled widening as he saw how flustered his baby brother was getting. “STAHA— STAHA-! DEEHEE!” Mikey shrieked, “NOHO TEEHEEASING!”

The glasses wielding teen gasped dramatically, “No teasing? You take my hoodie and now you’re telling me what to do?”

“NONONONO WAH— *squeal* WAHAHAIT!!!”

The tech whiz wasted no time prodding his thumbs on the youngest hips. The brown eyed teen squealed loudly, hugging his middles and just not even trying to stop Donnie’s hands at this point.

The last time he attempted to, his immediate older brother spent the next half an hour scribbling the orange banded teen’s palms…

That was hell in itself and Mikey was not trying to relive that again if he could help it.

“Awe…does this tiiiickle? Is this tickling you~? Maybe that’s cuz you’re reeeaally ticklish here…”

“IHI— *squeal* QUIHIHIET!” Michelangelo demanded loudly.

Donnie smiled at the weak retort, kneading the other’s hips harder, “What happened to all that smugness, hm? Where’d it all go, little guy~? Do I have you in a giggly puddle because your tickle tickle ticklish and I’m tickle tickle tickling you~?”

“STAHAHAP *squeal* SAHAHAYING *squeal* THAHAT, AHAHASHOLE!!!”

“Stop saying what~? Tickle? Ticklish—?”

The orange banded teen squealed loudly once more, accidentally cutting his brother off with his teasing. The glasses wielding teen couldn’t help but laugh softly at it, “Awe…look at my baby brother…” Donnie cooed.

“NAHAHAHA!” The youngest threw his head back in loud laughter as Donnie now tickled the sides of his shell. Mikey arched his back, trying to buck his older brother off of him but Donnie held on easily, continuing to tickle him.

“PLEHEASE! PLEHEHEASE!!!”

“'Plehease'? Please what~?”

“JUHUST *squeal* NAHAT *hic* THE SHEHELL!” Mikey despretley cried, turning to his side as other small hiccups followed as the end of the hoodie went up a bit, revealing some of his plastron.

The honey brown eyed turtle giggled at the perfectly played out action, “Oh…would you look at that~!” He mused, “Last chance to give me back my hoodie, bro.”

The smaller turtle’s eyes widened in realization, looking up at his brother from the corner of his eye, “Yohou *hic* wohohoudn’t…!”

“Oho wouldn’t I~?” Donnie grinned, gently holding Mikey’s waist and blowing multiple upon multiple raspberries on his stomach whilst scribbling his nails on his sides. “DAHAH— *squeal* DAHANNIE!” Mikey cried.

“Jeez…your mega ticklish here, huh?”

“SHUHUT— GEHET— PLEHEHEASE!!!” The brown eyed teen rambled through his laughs, shaking his head.

“Why— would— I???” The tech whiz mocked playfully, now blowing raspberries on his little brother’s neck and scribbling his fingers all over his stomach. “NAHAHAT THEHERE!! BROHOHO COHOME OHAHAN!!” The youngest squealed and squeaked.

Donatello smirked, ceasing his 100% justified attack for a second, “You saying 'nahahat thehere' is genuinely so funny, Mikes. Like, I was going to tickle you here regardless but, hey! Thanks for confirming how badly it tickles for you.”

He resumed his tickling onslaught on his younger brother, the younger brother in question basically falling limp due to how hard he was laughing. The only body parts that were really fighting for his life right now were his legs, that still did not cease desperately kicking the floor.

The purple banded turtle now started lightly giving ticklish nibbles on his younger brother’s neck as his light scribbles on the smaller turtle’s sides became quick and fast squeezes. “Om nom nom! Hm…you taste like…giggles! And ticklishness~! My favorite food combo!” The elder teased.

“DEEHEE DEEHEEHEE?! WHAT DOHOES THAHAT EHEHEVEN MEEHEEAN?!?!” Mikey cried desperately, his voice sounding like a tea kettle brewing because of how squeaky and high pitched it was.

“Awe…you haven’t used that nickname for me in ages~! It must tickle that bad, huh?” The glasses wielding turtle cooed.

“IHI *hic* CAHAN’T!”

“You can’t~? Can’t what~?”

“IHIT— *hic* NAHAHAH!” Mikey silently wheezed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes tight. “Is someone giving me the silent treatment?” Donnie snickered, “Pfft— get it? Cuz you’re laughing silently~? Eh? Eh?”

Okay, even if Mikey was the comedian of the family, he would’ve admitted that was a pretty solid joke if he wasn’t getting slaughtered right now. “FIHINE FIHINE *hic* HAHAVE *hic* IHIHIT BAHACK!!! TAHAKE IHIHIT!! PLEHEASE *hic* JUHUST STAHAHAP *squeal* I’M GOHONNA *squeal* DIHIHIE!!!”

“That would be kiiiiiiiinda funny making your grave honestly.” The tech loving teen smugly said, “Michelangelo Hamato. Reason of death? Being too freaking ticklish.”

“DEEHEEHEE!!!” The youngest cried. Donnie stopped, getting up and laying next to his brother, wrapping him in a side hug which the smaller turtle immediately melted to. “May I plehease hahave my hoodie back?”

“Ihi juhust sahaid yehehehes!” The orange banded teen groaned, literally throwing the hoodie at his immediate older brother. The anime loving teen smiled, putting on the hoodie as he grinned in triumph. “For real real. I feel like new...” He said to himself proudly.

And if the youngest knew his brother (which he did), that was probably a quote that that Gojo fellow has said.

“Oh! And by the way, little bro. My club doesn’t have a meet up today. It’s tomorrow.” Donnie snickered, walking away and leaving Mikey left in complete and utter awe.

That freaking asshole.

Okay, well now Mikey’s definitely taking that MHA hoodie next year.

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

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

#Lee!Mikey #Ler!Donnie #Mutant Mayhem tickle #Mutant Mayhem tickle ficlet #Kinda sorta maaaaybe projected unto Mikey here 🫥…just a TAD #When I was little I would steal my older siblings stuff— not bc like— I liked STEALING it (not tryna play into the stereotypes yo 🤧🙂‍↔️😓)#But bc it was THERE’S if that makes sense #I wasn’t jealous of it OR them #But just knowing that it was my sibling’s stuff was just…comforting in a way ig???#Also the palm tickle thing is inspired by someone…#COUGH COUGH YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE 😒👍🏾#I’m sorry if it seems as if this fic is choppy or rushed—#I just realized I’ve had this as a WIP since MARCH #So uhm uh yeahhh #Mutant Mayhem tickle fic #Mutant Mayhem tickle fanfiction #Also with the Gojo stuff I have NOT watched JJK yet 🤧😭#So the quote might jot be right I just looked it up ncbhdndmssk #Also I just created Don’s club name just cuz 🕺🏾#He seems like he would be a club head idk #He seems like club material 😌✨💕#Love them— the sillies 🥹☺️#NO MORE PB&J DUO FOR A WHILE THO OMLLLL #I’ve been doing them non-stop its INSANE #I did give Leo and Raph some cameo tho 😭😭😭…so there’s that mcbhhdjksks #I am starting to get better at writing ficlet’s tho :3 #EEEEE #💜🧡#And lastly you canNOT BLAME ME FOR THE SPIDEY REFRENCE 🕷️🕸️#ITS ICONIC

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anxious-lee · 9 months ago

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#writing the buildup to the tickles is the hardest part of fic writing for me #AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON NON TWORD FICS #ive written like 3 itty bitty ones because i cant find the motivation without tickles 💀#tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle community #lee talks #tickle meme

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august-anon · 4 months ago

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Hey! I love your BG3 work so much! Could I please request prompt 34 ("That's just a roundabout way of saying 'I like it'.") with lee Wyll and ler Astarion (or anyone else you think fits) if you feel up to it? Thank you!!!

find the list of warmup prompts and which fandoms i am taking here!

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yeah yeah yeah sure thing!! This one feels OOC to me but idk how to fix it so i hope you still enjoy it!! Thank you for the prompt!!

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(Not) Just Business

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3

Ship(s): Astarion/Wyll (pre-slash!!)

Characters (lee/ler): Ler!Astarion/Lee!Wyll

Word Count: 547 words

Summary: This was just a business arrangement, something to make sure Astarion stayed full enough to be useful. Wyll wasn't supposed to go and be all endearing about it.

[ao3 link]

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Wyll couldn’t ever say that Astarion didn’t at least try to make his feedings enjoyable. Wandering hands massaging away any tension they found, a few coaxing kisses, warming up the neck first with lips and tongue and the barest scrape of teeth — enough pleasurable feelings to help dull the pain of the inevitable icy sting of his bite.

It was supposed to be relaxing, to turn Wyll into putty under his fingers and fangs. To make it feel nice enough that Wyll wouldn’t take this privilege away, tenuous as their agreement was. What it was not supposed to do was raise Wyll’s tension tenfold and send him squirming half off the bedroll.

“Sorry,” Wyll said as Astarion pulled his hands and lips away, shifting back into place. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Astarion sat back and crossed his arms. “I understand that you’re the princely, heroic type and all, but there’s no need to be so self-sacrificial on my account.”

Wyll raised his hands in surrender. “No, it’s not that. It’s just– Well–”

“Spit it out,” Astarion snapped.

“It tickled a bit, that’s all.”

Astarion paused, his brow furrowing. “It tickled.”

Wyll squirmed under him, rather flustered judging by the way he would no longer meet Astarion’s eyes.

A traitorous smile tugged at Astarion’s lips and he quickly shoved it back down. He did not think this was cute, not in any fashion. It was ridiculous and childish and wholly unprofessional. This was a business arrangement, nothing more, and Wyll was not fulfilling his end of the bargain.

Instead, Astarion dragged his gaze over Wyll’s upper body, hoping his expression landed somewhere around disdain. “Just how ticklish are you?”

“I don’t– it doesn’t matter. Look, I don’t mind it, it’s fine, we can continue. You can get what you need and then we can both forget about this.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow, losing the battle with his smile once more – the blabbering was new, and rather disgustingly endearing. “Don’t mind it?”

Wyll’s eyes widened, like a deer caught on the wrong end of a crossbow. Eugh, feelings. Astarion was going to be sick.

“I don’t–”

“That’s just a roundabout way of saying ‘I like it,’ if you ask me.” Astarion examined his nails, picking at a bit of dirt he found under them. “Then again, what do I know?”

Wyll didn’t answer, avoiding his gaze once more. Astarion hummed, giving him a moment to stew in it, before leaning over Wyll once more.

“Do try not to move too much,” Astarion cautioned, positioning himself over Wyll’s throat. “This might tickle.”

Wyll barely had a moment to suck in a startled breath before Astarion began his ministrations once more, though this time a bit more deliberately ticklish. Quiet giggles filled the air and though Astarion could hear Wyll’s feet shifting and kicking behind his back, Wyll was able to stay remarkably still even with the heightened sensation. It was just another way to distract Wyll, Astarion told himself, just so that the bite wasn’t too much for him to agree to come back. The smile on his face was because of his impending meal, it had nothing to do with the disgustingly adorable snorting laughter filling the night air.

This was a business arrangement. Nothing more.

#tickle fic #my writing #bg3 tickling #lee!wyll #ler!astarion #ticklish!wyll #bg3 #wyll ravengard #astarion ancunin #wyllstarion #bloodpact is a cute shipname but i am certain that tag is already in use for non-bg3 reasons and i dont wanna show up there sdkjfhdf

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medig · 4 months ago

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A Tale of Woe, Ep. 41: Helpless

(all episodes)

"What the hell is going on, one minute you guys were giving me my shot, the next thing I know I wake up like this... and I can't move. What the fuck are you sickos doing to me?"

"Misty, you may or may not recall hearing from your sister Susan about the experiment in which she she participated. What was officially being tested in that experiment was a new drug intended to safely immobilize conscious patients during outpatient surgery. With no affect on the patient's breathing, even leaving the patient able to freely communicate with the doctors during the procedure. And no numbness or loss of normal sensation, allowing the doctor to choose local anesthetics as needed. The trials were spectacularly successful, so you can thank your dear sister's contribution to medical science for what you are about to experience."

"Which is?"

"Momentarily, my colleagues and I are going to pull that thin blue sheet down, and open the back of your hospital gown, exposing your poor, helpless, little bare bottom. Then we are going to take that feather, and take turns tickling you about the buttocks, anus, perineum, labia, and clitoris, and continue this procedure until you either soil yourself, lose consciousness, or achieve orgasm. And if the outcome is orgasm, we will continue to see how many we can get out of you before one of the other two outcomes occurs."

"W-w-w-what the actual fuck? No, no, no! N-n-n-no no no.."

"As I told you before, Misty, you are just a little tickletoy now, to do with as I please.. feel my touch and tremble.."

[the nurse removes the sheet]

"Oh no no no I can't take it! Let me go let me go..."

"Misty, you can't go anywhere, your muscles don't work. You're just going to have to ride this out, there is nothing you can do to stop it."

"You son of a bitch, when I can move again I'll kick you in the balls.."

[the doctor opens back of the hospital gown..]

"Big talk for a girl with such a ticklish little tushie.."

[.. and tickles her with his fingers]

"Ahhh! No no no please.. Look you've already got me laid up here butt-side up, can't you just fuck me in the ass or something? Anything but this.."

"Your bargaining is always so amusing, my sweet little Misty Leigh. Now, we three actually have been taking bets about which area of stimulation will yield the first orgasm. Doctor [redacted] predicts the anus, our nurse here suggests the clitoris. My money's on your taint... let's begin"

#medfet #ai generated #own #female patient #ai girl #ai woman #hospital gown #non con #ticklefetish #tickle fic #dark medfet #evil doctor #drug cw #forced drugging #restrained #medfet fic #medkink #medical kink

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rosiesramblings · 6 months ago

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My Mummy and My Simon

Fandom: Ted Lasso

W/C: 1.5k

A/N: Ok, I'm back with a fic, but fair warning it isn't a tickle fic. This has been rotting in my drafts for months and I just happened to be struck by the inspiration stick today. I hope you enjoy anyway!

“This is my Mummy and my Simon.”

It was how Jamie had introduced them for as long as he could remember. When he was a lad, he felt special when he said it - everybody and their Mummy had a Da, but Jamie was the only one with a Simon.

Jamie didn’t see them as often nowadays, with the distance between Richmond and Manchester, but he suspects that if he had anyone to introduce them to, that was still how he would do it.

He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about it, to be honest, while he stared at today’s post on his kitchen island. His housekeeper usually brings it in when she arrives and leaves it for Jamie to sort through. It’s rarely anything special - who uses the post anymore? - just the usual notices from the town and sometimes one of those circulars with coupons from the Tesco. Jamie wasn’t really sure why he felt so sick when he looked at it that day, until his brain processes what his eyes have already seen - the neatly typed James Tartt, Jr. across the front of one of the bills.

Jamie hated his full name with a passion - forever a reminder of the man who haunts his nightmares, the man who Jamie himself could become if he’s not careful. Jamie grimaced and turned away, forcing back the memories of what had happened when James overheard him telling someone that he lived with his Mummy and his Simon.

Simon was an odd duck, to be sure, but then again so was Jamie. He was a large man, still taller than grown-up Jamie, but he never made Jamie feel small or unsafe. Jamie was pretty sure it was impossible for Simon to make anyone feel that way, with his soft pastel jumpers and his obsession with that baking show and his job at the library. When it took Jamie so much longer than the other kids to learn to read, Simon never said a word about it, just gifted Jamie CD’s that Simon had recorded of himself reading Jamie’s favorite books for Jamie’s eighth birthday. He was pretty sure Simon didn’t know that after Jamie got his first Premiere League cheque, he had paid someone to put the recordings on his new phone. Jamie still listened to Simon’s voice read Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief when he came down with a cold.

Jamie fixed himself a post-training smoothie and sighed. Roy was bringing Phoebe over for Jamie to babysit since Roy had a coaches meeting and Ruth was busy saving lives at the hospital. Jamie idly washed out his blender, thinking of Simon and Mummy and how he really should give them a call soon. He was so lost in thought he didn’t hear Roy and Phoebe let themselves in before they were in his kitchen and Roy said, “Why the fuck do you get that wanker’s post sent to your house?”

Jamie whirled around, hand on his racing heart, before he processed what Roy was saying. “What?”

“Hi Jamie!” Phoebe waved cheerfully before going right over to the coffee table where he had gotten out the coloring books he kept specifically for Phoebe Days.

“Why is your arse of a father getting his post here?” Roy restated, gesturing to the pile of mail on the counter. “Thought you said you didn’t talk to him anymore?”

“I don’t,” Jamie said, confused. “That’s my post.”

Roy did a double take. “You’re named after that piece of shit?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you change it?”

“I did change it.” Jamie said. “Don’t go by James, now, do I?”

“I meant legally,” Roy explained. “So you don’t have to be fucking James Tartt Jr. in the fucking public record.”

“You can do that?” Jamie asked, incredulous, just as Phoebe called, “That’s five pounds so far, Uncle Roy!”

“Put it on my tab,” Roy called back. “And yeah, you can do that, you muppet. Costs like fifty pounds and might take a couple of weeks for the paperwork to come back, but you can do it. I still badger Ruth sometimes to change her name back to Kent, but she doesn’t want the fucking publicity.”

“Huh,” Jamie said, a whole new world of possibilities opening up before him. Roy kissed Phoebe goodbye and left for his meeting, and Jamie and Phoebe spent the afternoon coloring and playing kickabout in the yard.

***

A few days later, Jamie found himself on some government website, since you can do everything on the internet these days. He carefully typed Jamie into the form where it asked for what he wanted his new first name to be, cause it would be super embarrassing to have a typo and then have to do the whole thing all over again. The next box asked if he wanted to change his middle name, and Jamie paused. He hadn’t thought about that.

Jamie thought of James. He thought of Mummy, and he thought of Simon, and found he didn’t really need to think about it at all.

***

Simon’s birthday rolled along, and Jamie made the usual arrangements to donate to the library in Simon’s name. He’d done it every year since he could scrounge up the money, mowing lawns of council estates after Under-10’s training and looking after neighborhood kids until he had enough for a ten or fifteen pound donation. It never failed to bring a tear or two to Simon’s eyes, even now that Jamie had more money than he knew what to do with and made monthly donations to Simon’s library anyway, not that Simon knew that.

Jamie packed a bag to go and visit Manchester for Simon’s birthday, and as he printed his receipt showing the library donation to give to Simon, his eyes lingered on the email he’d received from the Royal Courts of Justice, notifying him that his change of name had been processed successfully. Before he could talk himself out of it, Jamie printed that off too, carefully folded it up with the donation receipt, and placed it in a small gift bag patterned with cheerful yellow ducks. It was made for kids, but Jamie knew Simon would appreciate it.

The drive to Manchester wasn’t too long, especially once Jamie put on Simon’s narration of the second Percy Jackson book. He’d made it through a good fifteen chapters by the time he was pulling his flashy car into the old familiar row of council estates.

Georgie shrieked, as she always did, when she flung open the door to her ‘sexy little baby!’ and Jamie picked her up and swung her around.

Simon’s familiar, “Oh, there they go!” sang in Jamie’s ears as he put Mummy down and turned to wish Simon a happy birthday.

The three of them migrated to the kitchen, Simon having made an impressive array of Jamie-friendly desserts. Georgie and Jamie sang an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, and Simon pretended to conduct them with his candy thermometer. Soon enough, Jamie was pushing his be-ducked gift bag onto the table in front of Simon.

“Now, what could this be?” Simon grinned as he snagged the donation receipt from among the tissue paper. He unfolded it and, to no one’s surprise, unsuccessfully blinked back tears. “Oh, Duckie, thank you so much!” he said, and launched into an explanation of the new kids learn-to-read program that the donation would fund for the next year.

Not expecting anything else, Simon placed the receipt back in the bag and reached for Georgie’s gift. “Actually, there’s one more thing in there,” Jamie said sheepishly.

“More!” Simon mouthed amazedly to himself as he went back to the yellow bag. Jamie watched with anticipation as Simon drew out the email and carefully unfolded it, squinting his eyes a bit as he began to read.

Jamie watched as a dumbfounded look came over his stepfather, and he opened his mouth to start to say he could always change it back, but before he could Simon looked up at Jamie and burst into tears. Georgie startled, and Jamie leapt up in alarm, not sure whether to run away or try and comfort him. Simon made the decision for him when he stood and threw his arms around Jamie, still sobbing noisily.

Jamie, bewildered, gingerly patted Simon on the back, before swallowing and asking, “It’s alright then?”

Simon just sobbed louder, clumsily running his fingers through Jamie’s hair as Georgie muttered, “What on earth?” and snatched the paper from her husband’s hand. Before long, she too was sobbing, though still quite a bit more composedly than Simon. There, clearly written on the page, were the words: Official Change of Name - Jamie Simon Tartt.

Eventually everyone calmed down enough for Simon to say that it was more than alright, that he loved Jamie so much, that he was so honored by Jamie’s choice, and that was enough to get Jamie and Georgie with the waterworks again, Simon himself following not long after.

They sat on the sofa for the rest of the evening, watching old reruns of Simon’s baking show and eating too many of Simon’s desserts. Jamie sat between his Mummy and his Simon, who wouldn’t let go of his boy for anything, relishing in the evening spent with his family.

#non tickles #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt #georgie aka jamie tart's mummy #simon #does he get a last name?#unknown #family #not a tickle fic sorry

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jungkookslipring · 11 months ago

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thank you so much for voting! Here’s a sneak peak (aka the t-word scene of my intro chapter to my long form fic)

this can also be read as a stand alone!✨

idk how to introduce this please don’t @ me lmfao😂😂😂

Lee! Minho

Ler! Y/n

relationship: platonic

genre: fluff/tword (for this chapter)

AU or non AU: Non idol au

When you decided you had enough screen time for one day, you packed up your backpack and headed back to the apartments. When you walked in, Minho, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin were all in the living room; it was chaotic. Jeongin was on the ground laughing as Minho straddled him, attacking his neck, while Felix and Hyunjin were on the couch smiling at the two. This was nothing new, tickle attacks were far too common for your friend group. When you came around the corner they all looked up at you with a smile.

“Hi y/n!” Minho greeted without stopping his attack on Jeongin.

“Save mehehehehe!” Jeongin screeched as Minho’s hands dove into the poor boy's tummy. You grinned as you dropped your bag and ran over to the pair on the floor. You ran up behind Minho and started squeezing his sides. Minho yelped and launched himself off of Jeongin, falling onto his back. He tried pushing your hands away, but your hands were too quick, and he was growing weaker by the second.

“You traihaihaitor” he laughed out as you continued your attack.

“Alexa, play traitor by Olivia Rodrigo,” Felix said sarcastically, laughing his ass off when the speaker started blasting said song.

“Be nice to our kids!” You jokingly scold the second you start digging in his ribs. His sweet laugh filled the room.

“HYUNJIN-AHAHAHA LIXIE HELP MEHEHE” Minho squealed while you effectively moved your fingers up and down his ribs.

“I’m not getting involved in that! She’ll come after me!” He chuckled with Felix snuggled into his side.

“Then join the dark side and come hold his arms down!” You offer with a smirk. Hyunjin cringed.

“But Minho Hyung’s revenge tickles are 10x worse!” He said, shivering at the memories.

“He’ll get revenge on you regardless,” Jeongin said matter-of-factly. While everyone was having a debate on basically ‘you’re damned if you do and you're damned if you don’t’, Minho has been filling the room with his adorable laughter.

“Y/N I GIHIHIHIVE” Minho begged after you spent a good few minutes attacking his underarms.

“Fine, just don’t go after my kids!” You laughed as you got off of him.

“How was school?” Minho asked after you helped him sit up. You leaned against the couch.

“Not bad, I think I’ve become addicted to caffeine,” you shrugged.

“Are you already pulling all-nighters?” Felix asked.

“Yeah, but it’s just a lot of reading, case studies specifically,” you said, grabbing a pillow and holding it in your lap.

“Have there been any that were interesting?” Hyunjin asked.

“More like unethical, these stories are heavy,” you said, cringing at some of the stories you’ve read.

“Do you have to write any papers on these stories?” Jeongin asked. You nodded.

“Eventually I will yeah, which will require more reading and I don't know how much longer I can keep reading these old case studies. I may need therapy,” you chuckled.

“Well if you ever need a serotonin boost you always have us,” Felix said with a smile. You walked over and pinched his cheeks.

“Awww thanks Lixie!” you squeal as he scrunches up his nose. Jeongin laughed.

“I’m so happy it's not me this time,” he joked. Minho smirked and grabbed a hold of Jeongin’s face.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t like it,” Minho smiled as Jeongin squawked out protests.

“Remember what I said about going after my kids!” you joked as you walked towards him with claw-like hands. Minho was quick to stand up and try to run out but you were too quick, once again on top of him while his laughs filled the room. A few hours later the rest of the guys came home. You all had dinner, talked about your day, and had a friendly yet violent Mario Kart Competition.

Can’t wait to share with you the first chapter! ✨🖤

Taglist: @felixmainacc @felixburneracc @myforevermelody143 @dunno-wut-to-do

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bow-of-aros · 4 days ago

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Writing a fic where instead of Steph being what Peter treasures most during The Summoning, it's his brother Ted that's been missing for months. It won't be super long and I'm a good chunk of the way through it already but the changes are kinda iffy and I'm not totally sure how well it works. I'll probably post it to my other account but do y'all still want the link to it?

#fanfic #hatchetfield #non tickles #sorry folks its a normie fic #yes this is me looking for validation #what of it??#definitely a fun idea #a little nervy about my execution of it #maybe i shouldnt post it at all???#idk

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kanene-yaaay · 10 months ago

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Oh, To Die By Your Hands

Kanene's notes: IT SEEMS SO SERIOUS WITH THAT TITLE KJUHYTFRGHUJK Nah, just your normal tickle fic with not so much normal characters. Fit and Pac have been living rent free in my mind since before Purgatory and after their date??? I am dead on the floor. Get a man who will declare his feelings for you in your native language for real for real.

Warnings: Lots of nibbles, tickly kisses and raspberries in this one. Switch!Fit and Switch!Pac. Around 6.500 words. Also! I tried to add the way that Pac calls Fit because of his accent written on the fic because I think it's lovely and cute. Hope it isn't too much confunsing or strange :D

[~*~]

“Thank you for coming, Pac. Ramón really likes when you sing him that lullaby.” His voice was rough but soft, just like his entire form and self when it came to his son, his beautiful baby boy.

Pac smiled, also following his example and lowering his voice, closing the secured door of the kid’s room carefully before they both headed to the other room where they held their first date, a prep on his step. “It’s no problem, Fitch! Actually, I don’t know why he likes that one so much, it literally talks about how a Cuca, which is like… a kind of monster? I don’t know how to explain. But how she will grab, or better, uh, snatch the kid away because the parents are out working.”

A loud peal of laughter was pried from the mercenary’s lips, staring at the other with unbelief in his eyes. “Wait, wait, that is the actual meaning of the song?”

“Yeah, yeah! I don’t know why they made it so scary. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if someone sang it to me before putting me to bed.”

“Damn, brazilian lullabies are just at a hardcore level.”

“Teaches you to sleep with one eye open, right?”

“That is right, that is right.”

They shared smiles. Arriving at the place, the air was still light, but it wasn’t difficult to see the question itching Pac’s throat, wanting to jump out of his body. It was in the way that he walked closely by Fit side and how he kept sneaking glances at him, quickly deviating them to look around the room before going back to stare, keeping the cycle for a while. Each time his steps got closer and closer until their hands intertwined in a hold.

It made sense he would be like that, of course. Fit would be just the same if his boyfriend woke him up in the middle of the night asking him to come to his place to help to calm down his kid after a nightmare because he wasn’t able to.

Still, he was glad that no questions were asked, not when Pac arrived - barely half a minute later after he sent his message, sleep and anxiety clinging like a shadow to his form - and not now, as the storm seemed to have passed.

Shame, however, kept flowing hot in his veins. He and Ramón had been alone since… always, really. They both had dealt with each other’s nightmares and night terrors more times than they could count. This one wasn’t supposed to be different. Shouldn’t be different. He should be there the moment his boy opened the door of his room with tears streaming down his face, sobs stubbornly escaping from his firmly pressed lips and hands open for a comforting hug that Fit should be able to give, a rare show of a child that his baby boy was, but refused to demonstrate most of time.

And yet…

Fit himself hadn’t been much better. Hadn’t been better for a long time, now. Because everytime he closed his eyes the threat from Madagio filled his mind and nightmares kept permeating his every night for the past two weeks, crowding his mind with horrifying scenarios that shouldn’t, but shook his core.

Usually, he would just wake up, push all of it - the feelings, the fears, the screams begging for their life - deep down his chest and hope that it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

Nevertheless to say, as all the things in life, it definitely did.

Because that night, when Ramón looked at his face - and god knows what he saw there - he stopped right in his tracks and carefully signed his name. He had been crying, he had been crying and scared and tired and all Fit could think - because words simply didn’t come out, no matter how much he tried to spill, spit them to comfort his kid - is that he could kill him. So quickly. Easily, even, with a twist of his wrist, a swipe of his trident, a pull from his bomb stacks, he could kill him and suddenly he was frozen on the spot, unable to even get closer to his son.

If Madagio had any power like the Federation, it could control him and destroy his most precious riches in a matter of seconds. It wouldn’t need to come to the island. It wouldn’t even need to pull Fit from it to make his life a living hell.

“There is something that we need to talk, Pac. Please take a seat.”

So, he called Pac. He deserved to know exactly what he was getting into (how many times would they have this kind of conversation?) and Ramón deserved a father who would actually get his shit together and get over it.

Pac gulped and looked at him slightly startled, knowing very well what the serious tune could mean, probably with a thousand of scenarios already running at light speed in his mind. “O-of course, Fitch.”

He then softly squeezed his hand - because there was no universe where Pac wouldn’t be perfect and strong and there but sometimes Fit seemed to forget that so he had to remind him - and let it go, sitting on the blue couch Fit recently added on the room and expectantly waiting for the other to do the same.

Which he promptly did - of course, because there wasn’t any universe where he would go and Fit wouldn’t immediately follow him.

“Wine? What about wine? Do you want some wine?” The brazilian offered, pulling glasses from his well trusted backpack and a bottle from the refrigerator nearby.

“Already wanting to take me to bed, Pac? Wow.”

“No! Stop it.” Pac lightly shoved his arm, both chuckling for a bit before Fit sobered, taking a deep breath and a sip of the liquid. It was good stuff, probably from Aypierre’s vines. “Thought we were here to have a serious conversation, no?”

“We are.”

Fit stopped, pondered how he would put it in words. It didn’t matter, there was no easy way to put it.

“Pac, would you kill me if it was necessary?”

The scientist sputtered, almost choking on the wine before turning in alarm to stare at the other, his gaze zig zagging across his body as if it would transform at any moment into an enemy, a monster in disguise pretending to be his boyfriend right in front of him.

He didn’t doubt Pac’s abilities, even if Pac himself hardly believed in them. He was an extremely good fighter, going through monsters and battles with a calm demeanor and precise, strong attacks that ended the conflict as soon as possible. Fit was very skilled, himself. But he was sure that if Pac used one of his brilliant plans and his scythe, it would take a lot, but he would eventually come down.

But, for that, he needed to know if Pac would go through with the plan.

“Why, why that, Fitch? Did something happen? Are you feeling weird? Is it…” He got closer. Fit’s heart beated louder. If it was him… if it was him it wouldn’t be so bad. “Is it the Federation, again?”

“No. It’s… the other.”

Understanding downed in his expression. “Oh. Did he contact you again?”

Fit shook his head. “No. But it did say that it would hurt you if I tried to betray our contract and I am not planning to but, Pac, I need to know if you’ll do it. If I become a threat.”

Pac bit his lower lip, thoughtfully. Fit’s muscles relaxed, glad to know he was taking this as a serious worry, not just some unfounded fear.

“We will save you. Just like we did before, just like you did to me, Fitch. I, I will be there for you too, when you need and for as long as you need, if you’re gone we will bring you back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t, but, if I have to kill you, Fit… how will I tell this to Ramón? Or Sunny? WHo is going to be her bodyguard? And what about the morning crew? Are we supposed to just… stay?”

“You are all very strong and I am sure that-”

“No.” His voice was determined, sad. His hands gestured widely. “No, no, no. I am not leaving you behind, Fit. What about when I’m in danger, who will rescue me? Who will share the island’s fofoca with me? Or give me a refrigerator full of food on the first date? Or kill the eye workers when they attack or tease Tubbo when he goes on a date with Fred, or help us to take care of Sunny, or, or, or…” Fit held the other’s hands, squeezing it tight when he started to talk too fast, snapping Pac out of his thoughts, making him take a big breath. “No. You can’t go away, Fitche. Never. I won’t let them take you too.”

Oh.

Yeah, that… that made sense.

This was Pac, who the first thought when seeing his friend being drugged and controlled by the Federation was going under the same treatment so he could find a cure for it. The one who forgave Cellbit in a heartbeat when he told him he had changed. Who refused to kill him - even before the date, when Fit couldn’t even put in words his feelings for the other - during Purgatory. Who threw himself into mines and danger easily without thinking twice and would do all of it again an again if it meant keeping someone he cared about safe, even when the Federation kept taking his family one day after the other. He would do it in a heartbeat.

It made sense he didn’t want to lose another one. He was smart, strong, kind… Fit would trust him with his life into his hands in a blink of an eye.

But…

“If I hurt Ramón, Pac. If ever get close to hurt any of the eggs…”

“I will lock you, Fit. And I, we! We will find a cure again. None of them will die and you don’t need to die either.”

“Do you promise?”

Pac nodded, composure and eyes kept firm in their place, holding him down and reminding him he was no longer on this alone. “I promise, Fit. And if your boss cat comes here to hurt them… Then we will kick his butt, right?”

Fit snorted, if it was anyone else, he would doubt, throw their words away as a senseless attempt to comfort him, without true meaning. His boss was god, some kind of entity with power enough to pull him out of a world of literal destruction and throw him into a dimension where all of it never existed. However, this was Pac. Both he and Mike have proven over and over again that there was no place, no rule, no limit that they weren't able to overcome and laugh at their face when the managed to overcome it.

Maybe… If it was him.

He could believe it. Besides, Pac did promise that he wouldn’t let him hurt the children. They were always the priority, afterall

“Yes, we will. Thank you, Pac.” He took a deep breath. Since he already started, he could as well…

Talk. About stuff.

“Sometimes I… worry about, uh, what I can do.”

(Kill. Maim. Destroy. Break it down piece by piece until there is nothing left. Watch in the shadows and continue his way quietly through all the screams.)

Pac understood what he meant. “Oh. It’s fair. I think, it must be hard, when you think about it…” He then squeezed his hand before letting them go, starting to count on his own fingers. “But, I don’t think you should worry about it, Fitch. You can do a lot of awesome things, too! You’re a really good cooker, you can make very cool bombs and explosions, you’re good at hide and seek, at saving me when I am down. You are also very good at hiking and training, which makes sense, right? With how muscular and great you are, also-”

“Pac,” Fit voice’s took a firm tune, pulling Pac from his rambling and immediately catching his attention, wide black eyes turning at him attentively. “Pac, I was made for killing. All of this is just…”

(It doesn’t matter.)

“Nah.”

Fit blinked once, twice, quite astonished at how nonchalant the scientist sounded. Stared at those beautiful, soft eyes that watched him with a playful light that somehow nothing on the Island had been able to destroy. Strong. “Sorry?”

“I don’t think you were made for killing, Fit. No one is only able to do one thing and everyone can change. Besides… it gave you a lot of skill, right? Surviving there. That is why you’re one of the best fighters on the island, Fit! The codes, the eye workers… even Cucorucho is no match for you. You’re so strong, fierce, cool, fit and,” Pac’s determined tune tripped a little bit as his words got faster and a tad more distracted, his eyes deviating from his stare, looking at his face, arms, torso… Fit would be lying if he said he didn’t like how it hovered for a little while on his chest and muscles, “and you’re good looking too! Awesome, ruthless, muscular, handsome...”

“Ahalright!” Fit cut him before his face melted from how hot it felt, the tip of his ears feeling like they were on fire. His voice seemingly broke Pac out of his mind and made him immediately attempt to hide his face on his hoodie, trying to jump away to hide and being stopped by the gentle hand still holding his, keeping him close. That didn’t prevent more embarrassed snickers from also filling the air. “Sorry, sorry, I got distracted.”

“Take it easy, big boy, take it easy.”

Fit only laughed harder when the teasy nickname made the other shout in protest, a light hit landing on his shoulder. It successfully distracted him enough so his head peaked again from the deepness of his blue hoodie, so Fit counted it as a win. Especially when a playful gleam took over Pac’s glare.

“Actually, Fitch, I think you were made for something.”

“Oh, you think so?”

Pac got closer, smiling, nodding in such an innocent way that could only mean trouble.

“Yeah, for kisses.” He laid his head on his shoulder and Fit could feel goosebumps travel his entire body from the skin contact. His voice became lower, slower, certain. “Can I kiss you, Fit?”

Fit definitely didn’t bluescreen, half words and meaningless sounds leaving his mouth in a string of incoherency that lasted a couple of minutes before he finally managed to get himself together enough to shove an actual sentence, with a too high pitched tune, through his throat. “I-I mean, of course you can, Pac! If, ah, if you want to.”

Pac’s answer was a single kiss placed in his collarbone before the brazilian focused his administrations on his neck. Soft, warm lips leaving a trail of tingles and electricity whatever they touched. Fit could feel the care in each one and it felt… nice.

Cozy.

Warm.

Tickly.

Ok, actually, it was very, very tickly.

Fit closed his eyes and turned his face around, trying to hide the beginning of a smile that grew bigger with every light - so, so, so light - peck grazing his skin. Not wanting to actually ruin the sweet moment between them, especially after Pac got the courage to ask for what the mercenary had been wanting to do for a while.

(Cuddle and kiss his boyfriend. Oh god, when did he become such a softie?)

The problem with his hiding tactic is that it only left more spots in the open for Pac to attack and bash in attention, not leaving a single patch of skin alone without a caring goodbye kiss, unknowingly breaking piece by piece Fit’s barriers.

He twitched when his boyfriend got too close to the line of his jaw, the warmth racing up to the tip of his ears in a way he hoped that Pac didn’t realized. The one with blue hoodie and attentive eyes stopped in a hitched breath. Waited.

Fit got his racing heart and tickly tingles under control. He was not going to lose to a few accidental tickles. He was not.

He squeezed Pac’s and drew circles on the back of his hands, turning at him with a teasy smirk and crooked eyebrows.

“Oh, is it my turn now?”

Pac giggled and shook his head. “Wait, wait, I still got…”

Without finishing his sentence he dived and placed a light kiss right under his chin, successfully catching the other out of guard and making one of various locked snickers wheezily flee from his lips, quickly being followed by others when Fit tried to cover his smile, turning around once again.

“Oh, god, I am doing this wrong, aren’t I?” Pac pushed himself away and grumbled, starting to search in his pockets for his warpstone, increasing the other’s snickery fit. “Ok, ok, that is it.Thank you so much for calling, I had an incredible time so now I am going to throw myself off the Cristo Redentor and then go to bed, good night, Fit. Tell Ramón I loved him and tell Richas to take a shower, bye.”

“No, no, Pac. Calma, calma.” Fit held one of his wrists, pulling Pac back to his place on the sofa, chasing his black eyes when they kept running away from his while the scientist kept shaking his head from side to other in a dramatic despair. Fit ended up resting his other hand on his cheek, guiding his look back. “I would never laugh at my brazilian boyfriend.” He tried to not grin smugly when that melted the other’s pout in a shy smile “The kisses just tickled me, that is all.”

That immediately brought Pac’s attention. “Wait, Fit… you’re ticklish?”

“It seems like I am, but I am not sure. Not a lot of chances for bonding and laughing when fighting for your life in 2b2t.”

“Oh, I see.” Silence, Pac’s wrist wiggled out of his hold and suddenly there were warm hands flying to his neck, fingertips dancing on it, blunt nails and wiggly fingers tickling the sensitive spot softly. “So, you’re ticklish.”

Fit huffed a laugh at the strange feeling, instinctively scrunching up his neck all while he tried to not pry Pac’s hands away. Same hands that now spidered their way up to his ears, tracing them and giving each one a few scratches, Pac watching in awe as their tips became more and more colored with each passing second.

“Oh my god, Fit, your ears are so red! Are you blushing? That is really, reeeally cute, you know?”

Fit’s shoulders began to shake slightly with the effort to keep all the giggles and laughter trapped inside, the task growing more and more difficult as Pac kept his exploring. Fingers tapping their way down to the mercenary’s ribcage, making his torso twitch from one side to another as they started skittering up and down, tracing senseless drawings and forms on the spot. Another fleeing snigger escaped from his firmly pressed lips. There was no way such light, barely even touching touch could tickle that much.

“You can laugh it out, Fit. I bet it will feel much better! Besides,” the gleam in his eyes got sharper and Pac didn’t really lower his voice, but something in his tune changed, a turning point that made a shiver run down Fit’s spine. It didn’t feel like something truly dangerous but alerts began flashing in his mind when the touch became just a tad firmer.

Fit had to push down the squirms that threatened to push the other away. “You can’t just keep all that laughter only for yourself, now, that wouldn’t be fair. No, no, not fair at all. Keeping all those giggles and snickers hidden from me. Trapped inside. They deserve to be free, you know? So everyone can see how cute they are.”

“Pac…”

But then Pac started digging and his barrier broke. Loud laughter immediately followed the hands vibrating in between his ribs, scribbling, looking for any special spot that would make Fit go insane. Not that he was very far from this, now, head being thrown backwards with how strong his crackles were, because nothing in the world could ever prepare him for the feeling that was being tickled, to have each nerve screaming but not in pain, to have each touch bring a new kind of electricity that traveled his torso and filled his heart with a warmth that made him want to jump out of the sofa and at the same time bring Pac closer.

A curious prodding in a spot in his highest ribs that was almost on his back and Fit slammed his body on the cushion, a snort being pried from his lips and quickly being followed by another and another when the fingers kept drilling and kneading on the spot non stop.

Then he heard it, low as a whisper. “Beautiful….” It came in an awed voice, and in between half lidded eyes Fit saw the one with black hair shake his head, as if getting himself together before slowing down the tickling, thumbs rubbing the remnant tickles as he stared at him. “Sorry, Fitch, I, caham, I got, uh, distracted. Are you okay?” He nodded, chuckles taking over his words and disappearing with any hope of saying something without descending in more of a waterfall of giggles. Still, he tried, the proud smile in Pac’s face erasing his embarrassment in how silly he sounded giddy like this.

“I’m fine, just surprised that I am dating a tickle monster.”

The brazilian laughed, shaking his head and hiding his face on Fit’s shoulder. “Não, não, não (No, no, no). Mike is actually the tickle monster in our team. I just learned a lot from playing fights with him.” Pac trembled in an exaggerated shudder. “He is merciless.”

“Really?”

“Uh hum.” Pac hummed, thoughtful, before doing a little ‘pop’ sound, hands washing down to his sides, tapping senselessly there. “He had this kind of attack where he would be talking to you and suddenly he would start to tickle you and like, it would be really, really light so you didn’t actually, you know, like, died laughing? But at the same time it would be crazily ticklish! Following you around no matter how much you squirmed or snickered.”

“P-pac, come on…”

The other just hummed, still talking and hands still spidering in their resting position, taking turns in between drawing circles on his sides, feeling how his torso would shake with a new round of chuckles blossoming anew, and scratching the little dive of his hips to make them grow faster.

“Then he would try to keep a conversation going and complain like ‘are you even paying attention to what I’m saying, what’s going on?’ as if he didn’t know what was happening, can you believe?! And you couldn’t just… walk away or keep silly giggling non stop and not answer him, because you’re still in a conversation and that would be rude, right? So you’re just there, laughing and wiggling and it always drives me crazy!”

Fit nodded, knowing the feeling very well, in his opinion. His brain trying to pay attention to his words but getting totally distracted by his own attempts to not wiggle around so much because everytime his body trashed to one side, Pac would just dig his fingers on his sides and drum, which made him jump in the other direction only to receive the same treatment, creating a maddening cycle almost impossible to escape from.

Once again, laughing began flooding the room, high pitches and wheezy giggles chasing around one or two squeals when a tentative squeeze grazed the spot before quickly jumping away, the unexpected playful attacks blending with the soft scribbles and somehow making him not being able to predict nor prepare for one or the other.

“And then, out of nowhere he would get bored and that is where it lies the danger, Fitch.” Pac’s voice took a turn to a lower tune, torn between a warning and a threat. His tickling came to a halt, fingertips just laying on his waist with occasional twitches. What was more strange, though, was how, even so, the janitor couldn’t stop the titters taking over his mind and body. He wondered if that was how he would finally die, undone and destroyed by his very lovely boyfriend. Pac snickered in mischief and amusement, breaking his mask for a couple of seconds before cleaning his throat and coming back to his persona, interlocutor voice back again.

“Because, when he stops it means that he is getting bored. You know that he is getting bored and he knows that you know that he is getting bored and that it is just a matter of time before he decided that is enough and something happens” he highlighted the word by spidering quickly across his ribs. His voice sounded like it was closer. “So you just stay there, quiet, waiting for the moment he will strike.”

Fit held his breath, eyes closed. His smile was so big that it traveled from one ear to the other. No more laughter was falling from his mouth, but his shoulders still bounced with the phantom tickles that freely pricked his skin and seemed to follow his every squirm. Pac’s hands felt warm - dangerous - where they touched and he was pretty sure that his entire face would melt at some point of this game.

He waited.

Waited. Nothing.

A kiss was pressed on his forehead.

He opened an eye, muscles immediately untensing and relaxing with the scene, even if adrenaline still ran without control in his veins, of Pac happily smiling, just a few centimeters from his face.

“Oi, Fitch.”

“Roi, Pa-ACK!”

Loud, uncontrollable and unstoppable laughter filled the room, Fit still tried to finish his sentence before giving up and succumbing to the snorts and wheezing that took over his laughter. Squeezes, drumming and prodding attacked his sides, kneading on the ticklish spot before scratching their way up to his ribs, burying themselves there and then keeping their way up to his armpits - poking and scribbling and making him lock his arms on his torso - until it got to his ears, changing the loud peals of booming laughter to a hysterical string of snickers only to make he go back to crackling when he attacked his sides again and again, alternating between each and every tickle spot so he couldn’t picture where he was going to tickle next.

Fit could even swear that at some point he felt a squeeze in his knees that fished a chortle from his lips and an uncontrollable kick from his legs.

It lasted only a couple of minutes. All the electricity and tickly buzzing teased and made him laugh like nothing else mattered, loud and free even when, between his own amused giggling, Pac ceased his mean attack and watched with a giant grin as the other tried to regain his breath, a light blush dusting his face.

“You were saying, Fitch?”

Nonsense. That was exactly what Fit was about to say. Because his brain kind of became a mush after all that attack and the airy giggles that kept flowing from his throat didn’t exactly help him to gather his thoughts nor fade the hotness running still on his face.

“I, er, huh…” and there it was, the sentence got lost to jumpy snickers again. Fit brought a hand to hide them and try to gain at least save a bit of face, but a quick poke on his defenseless armpit made it go immediately down again. He glared without any real heat at his boyfriend, who lifted his arms in rendition.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m done for real, now.”

The silence was extended for a few pieces of time, stretching across them like a cat after a nap.

Fit was the one who broke it.

“That is Mike’s…” He coughed, cleaning his throat “special tickle attack, then? I can see why you call him merciless.”

“Nah, actually that is my own technique. Mike prefers to catch a person out of guard and tickle while taunting them until they promise to make something for him.”

The surprised, amused huff of laughter that came out from the mercenary’s mouth didn’t have anything to do with wiggly fingers this time and Pac joined him.

“You’re such a sneaky guy, Pac, you’re such a sneaky guy.”

“Thank you. Gotta learn from the best right? Maybe someday me and Ramón will team up and win the hide and seek against you.”

“Hmm, you probably would. But maybe I can convince Richarlyson to help me?”

“It would be good. Richas is the best in hide and seek. He would really like to. Hey! We should set up a playdate with them in our Hide and Seek arena. We can even call Tubbo and Sunny, maybe even Philza with Chayanne and Tallulah, if they are awake. The more the merrier, right?”

Fit was sure that if he was shapeshifter like Tubbo, without even wanting to, his eyes would be heart shaped. It never ceases to amaze him how Pac could accept and love everyone - him - like they were and would always be a family to him.

“But, so?” The brazilian wiggled his eyebrows, a smirk opening in his face. “How is it the experience of being tickled for the first time?”

Maddening. Tortuous. Able to make someone go crazy, he was sure. Surprisingly tiring and unexpectedly effective. Strange. Itchy. A lot. Hard to explain.

But also, it was extremely caring. Warm. Soft. Funny. Bonding. Weird. Extremely silly. He couldn’t stop his smile and thoughts about the gleam and shine in Pac’s eyes when he discovered a new spot or how - strangely enough - light and giddy he was feeling right now.

Besides, he never was self conscious about his laughter or anything but listening to Pac calling him… beautiful, in such an amazed voice… Well, his ego really couldn’t complain.

“It was fun.” He decided to go with that, a playful grin in his face, his hands holding Pac’s and intertwining their fingers.

“Oh, I’m happy in hear that! Actually, I-”

“But…” Fit cut him, purposely deepening his voice in a tune that never failed to catch the other of guard, sending a cold shiver through his muscles. “I can think of something even more fun.”

“Y-yeah?” Pac’s blush deepened when he looked at the dangerous, sharp, determined shine in Fit’s eyes, his entire mind getting overcomed with a choir of excited screams, burning face at realizing how their intertwined hands was both a soft gesture and a restrain.

Damn, he was really, really gay.

“Uh hm,” his tune now was almost like a purr of a predator watching his prey wobbly smile back and hold his hands tighter together, knowing very well his fate and still not even trying to escape from it. “It’s something that back on 2b2t we liked to call… revenge.”

With a swift move he pulled their hands and lead Pac to lose his equilibrium, falling backwards on his lap, one hand keeping his arms up and the other lifting his hoodie just the slightest bit, the actual perfect amount for him to immediately shove his face on his stomach and start blowing raspberry after raspberry, quick and ruthless.

“FITCHE!” The sound that came out of his mouth could barely be called a word, the high pitched shout being quickly taken over by a hysterical crackling that made his entire body shake with each laughter.

His boyfriend just chuckled, lifting his head just enough that his next words would be audible to the other, each one buzzing on the ticklish skin and making tiny, tickly electric shocks dance freely across it. “Oh my, Pac, what a delicious belly you got right here. One of the richest, rarest delicacies I’ve ever seen.”

“NONONO, FITCH!” He kicked and trashed, trying to roll away from his predicament but being firmly held in place by the other, which was kind of nice, since he wasn’t sure how to explain to Fit that he definitely wasn’t going to run away if he had the chance.

Still, that didn’t stop the fast, airy and high giggles of painting every syllable of his pleas that began flowing like a stream from his lungs, becoming more and more intelligible with each protest. “Please, please, Fitch anything but that! I will do anything you want! Do you wanna know all Mike’s most ticklish spots? Eu posso te dizer! (I can tell you!) he has this place right under his knees that if you poke he starts making ‘wee’ sounds e é muito engraçado (it’s very funny) Fitche por favor, espera, espera, wait!”

“Sorry, Pac, nothing I can do. I just have to try a little. Raspberries are so delicious and I just… I just gotta, ya know? I just gotta try a little, the tiniest little bit.” He lowered his head once again, carefully and softly nibbling on the ticklish skin and doing a bunch of ‘oh nom nom nom’ sounds as he did so, smugly relishing in how louder Pac’s laughter sounded at this, random portuguese and english being mixed in a series of incoherent talking that he couldn't even hope to understand, even with the translator.

The raspberries and nibbles began taking turns, dancing all across his stomach and sometimes even escaping to attack one lower rib or two in a way that usually drove Ramón crazy. It was kind of funny and endless endearing to realize that both of his boys were extremely weak for the same kind of tickle attack.

All the while Pac was simply dying. There was no other way to describe it. He was utterly and completely dying, losing every tread of.. everything that wasn’t thinking about how much it tickled and laughing both because Fit (Fit!!!!! His boyfriend Fit!!!!) was teasing and tickling him and also because as it seems he was the goofiest dork that ever existed in this world while doing that and somehow that made all the butterflies flying crazy on his belly and tickly electricity following his nerves one hundred times worse and ticklish and it was amazing.

Fit enjoyed a couple more minutes of the silly attack, fondly realizing how much more hysterical and loud the crackles got everytime he added more “hmmm” and “nom nom nom” sounds.

“There we go, big boy.” He lifted his head and got a glimpse of a gigantic, dazzling smile and a red face before Pac immediately hid it behind his hands, wheezes and snickers filling the room.

“Shuhuhut up!”

Fit grinned, but let go of the teasing and took pity on his brazilian boyfriend. He could quite understand why Pac seemed so happy in destroying him minutes ago. There was just a something that made his heart beat faster just in realizing that he was the reason why Pac was so happy and giggly.

Also, the way that the brazilian’s accent got stronger, especially while saying his name in between unstoppable, uncontrollable giggling… Fit thinks he could live with that, yeah.

“Oh my god, Fitche… and you call me merciless.”

The ex-mercenary chuckled. His eyes hovered over Pac’s face, making sure that he was still breathing and alive (he hadn’t taken too far, did he?) when suddenly his look got attracted to his neck, the memory of what started all of this popping like a flashing lamp in his mind.

“Pac…” It was the low voice again, lighter, but still there. Pac’s entire body froze still for a second and alarmed eyes turned to stare Fit, who seemed strangely fixated on his hoodie. “Is your neck ticklish?”

Oh.

Pac 100% blamed the gay screaming in his head for his next words.

“YES!” The shout was as excited as it was loud, making both of them wince at it, Fit looking at the one with black hair with a faintly surprised, crooked eyebrows. “I mean, er, assim, uh, no!!! It’s actually not! NOt even a little bit! What even is ticklish, you know? I don’t even speak english, senhor Fitch eme ce, na verdade, essa é a minha primeira vez aqui na ilha, quem é você e… Não!” (sir Fit eme cee, actually, this is my first time here in the island, who are you and… No!)

The babbling was promptly cut when, once again, Fit chuckled in mischief and shoved his head on Pac’s neck.

Butterfly kisses followed the line of his jaw, attacked that spot under his chin, tickled the place where the collarbone and the neck met, each patch of sensitive skin getting a kiss and a raspberry as a gift, making a series of snorts and high dazed giggles quickly follow the initial surprised shriek and jump around the entire room, Pac’s arms coming to rest on the other’s chest, partially pushing him away and partially holding him, legs kicking behind them with how much adrenaline and giddiness jumped across his muscles and filled his heart.

Pac hid his face on the crook of Fit’s neck, attempting to at least survive a few more seconds from dying of embarrassment, each snort and hysterical high pitched snicker sealing even more his fate and putting another nail in his coffin.

A few curious squeezes on his sides and a final, long raspberry and then Fit finally let him go, watching as the other got his breath again, forgetting for once to hide his blush and brilliant smile into his hoodie, looking completely lost in his own laughing fit. Adorable.

Sometimes Fit wondered how could he be so lucky.

A loud click and a flashing light brought both of them out of their thoughts. Pac almost falling from the sofa when he turned around and saw Ramón quickly hid a camera behind his back while passing three copies of the pictures to Richas, who stopped making gagging noises to hide them on his protected backpack before the adults could take it.

“Richarlyson, Me dá essas fotos!” (Give me those pictures!)

“Ramón, what are you doing awake? You should be sleeping. It’s late.”

Ramón had the sense to look at least a tad admonished, but the expression quickly disappeared when Richas began jumping on the same spot, wiggling from one side to another like he always did when he wanted to cause more mischief. The kids exchanged a look.

“Nenê (Baby), no. Don’t follow Richas’ example, he is a little demon.”

The sandal that went flying across the room and hit the brazilian in the face - which actually led to him falling from the cushions - only further proved this fact. Still, Richas let out plenty of offended noises while getting his sandal back, showing off his tongue when Ramón shoved him and shook his head in disapproval.

Fit tried his best to not laugh and sound serious. “Richas, do not hit your dad.”

“Don’t worry, Fitch.” Pac tapped his arm, getting up from the floor, tsking. “There is no other way, I guess. I’ll have to kill him. Yeah, it was fun to have a son for a while.”

The mercenary laughed, knowing very well how much of a weak heart Pac had for his little troublemaker. “Calma, calma, Pac. I think I have the solution. Since the kids are feeling so… energetic, we should probably tire them out before putting them back in bed, right?”

He also got up and gave Pac a Look, pretending to not see Ramón pulling Richas’ sleeve and exchanging warning words to him, knowing very well what that playful, dangerous shine in his dad’s eyes meant.

Pac grinned, mirroring his own devilish expression. “I think you’re right, Fit.”

Richas once again wiggled around in energy, his dragon tail tapping on the floor while Ramón threw a flower at Pac (smart boy, Fit thought, winning the melting heart from the dad that would have more mercy, very smart) and jumped on the same place, smiling and nodding in excitement.

He then pulled Richas away, starting the chase. Pac immediately following behind with joyfuls “I’m gonna catch you!”.

Fit chuckled.

Maybe Pac was right.

Maybe life - he - was more than just die and kill.

Well… he rolled his shoulders and followed his family in their game, laughing excitedly. He would have to enjoy it while it lasted, then.

#I couldn't help myself. I just HAD to make Pac's accent getting stronger when he is being tickled. I JUST HAD TO.#One day I will write a tickle fic where someone learn the word 'cosquinha' and keep teasing the brazilians about it that day is not today #Because I Would Die. Fall on the floor completely dead.#Fit: I'm a monster Pac // Pac twirling his hair giggling kicking his legs: that man could destroy me hehehe #Sometimes I worry for their mental health #Fit: *is silly* // Pac: *internal non stopping gay screaming*#Pac: a // Fit: You're absolutely right #qsmp tickles #qsmp tickling #Switch!Fit #Switch!Pac #Ticklish!Fit #Ticklish!Pac #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #Still not over Pac saying that he would kiss marry and kill Fit and Fit answering with 'I like my man dangerous' like GET OUTTTT #I'm going to become homphobic in the end of this I am telling you I can no longer take this I had to keep pausing their date because-#-*I* KEPT GETTING GIDDY AND EMBARRASSED LIKE GET OUT OF HEREEEEE YOU'RE MADDLY IN LOVE YEAH WE KNOWWW #Fun fact here Fit prefers to tickle attack his loved ones with raspberries and stuff because he doesn't trust his hands to be gentle :D #Sorry :')

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