#one-ler
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
tavlerone · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sketchbook stuff
42 notes · View notes
blog-for-water · 1 year ago
Text
one-ler is so hot 😍😍🥰🥰🥰
2 notes · View notes
cloudysfluffs · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
he is such a little shit /affectionate
nsfw/kink blogs please dni!
2K notes · View notes
tired-and-ticklish · 2 months ago
Text
Employee Training
Disclaimer: This is a tickle fic, so if that isn’t your thing, then just ignore this. 
Summary: Jax isn’t taking his job seriously, so Gangle decides he needs some extra… training.
TW: Tickling (maybe a bit intense?), Restraints, Jax Being Jax, Spoilers for Episode 4: Fast Food Masquerade.
(Let’s face it, a lot of us saw that scene and were all thinking the same thing.)
Working a normal fast food job wasn’t at the top of Jax’s list of adventures. He’d rather be back at the circus, putting more centipedes in Ragatha’s room or stealing Zooble’s parts. But instead, he and the others were forced to work a terrible minimum wage job with an annoying Gangle as their shift manager.  Hell, it was the crybaby’s idea in the first place!
“Ooooh Jaaaaax~!” Speaking of the pain in his tail, Gangle called out from behind the rabbit, that stupid smile from the mask Zooble gave her still plastered across her face.
“The bathroom looks like a biohazard and needs a good scrubbin’!” Gangle told him.
“Shouldn’t like, a biohazard crew take care of that?” Jax asked, not wanting to put in anymore effort than the job was already requiring.
Gangle laughed. “Ohoh, Jaxy boy, don’t you want to be a model employee?”
“No, I don’t care about any of this.” Jax responded, crossing his arms.
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a can-do attitude to me!”
God, was she getting more annoying? “It’s not.”
Another laugh, simply followed by one word. “Bad.”
“I like you better when you’re sad.”
There was a sound, like glass cracking, but Jax ignored it. Honestly, the whole ‘chipper, happy-go-lucky’ attitude Gangle had at the current moment was making him wish they had stuck to the butcher adventure Caine suggested in the first place. Darn Pomni, darn suggestion box, darn not being able to actually swear in this Hell hole called a circus.
“Well..” Gangle replied, Jax either not noticing, or more likely, not caring, how close she sounded to strangling him. “Maybe you need some more…”
She paused, like Caine did sometimes, it was a bit uncanny to see. “More-”
“Training!” Gangle interrupted before he could finish.
Suddenly, two hands grabbed Jax, squishing him like a squeaky toy before dragging him into the back of the restaurant. Once they let go of him, Jax was shocked to find himself in a completely empty, dark room, save for the TV that suddenly turned on. On it was an employee training video, complete with the ‘motivational music, staring and made by Gangle, explaining how it would teach him how to be a good team member and asset to the cooperation.
Jax questioned when Gangle even made the video. Or maybe it was Caine’s doing? The adventures made no sense, so why did he expect a ‘normal’ one to make sense? The way the Gangle in the video spoke made Jax uncomfortable, talking about how dreams were unrealistic, and to stop trying. It was like she was losing it.
“But before we get into all that, first things first!” The Video-Gangle asked, smiling. “Are you smiling?”
“Uh, no…?” 
The music stopped. “Why not…?” Gangle wasn’t smiling anymore, just staring right at him.
Faster than Jax could respond, he was suddenly in a chair, four mechanical arms coming out and grabbing his limbs. They twisted him a few different ways, before shoving his face right into the TV. “Wait- Wait wait! N-Nobody can see this… right?” Jax asked nervously, suddenly regretting any and all decisions in his life that had led to this moment.
“Time for your employee reevaluation!”
With that, the robotic limbs pulled Jax back into the chair, his arms pulled up as far as they would go, his legs pinned down to the leg rest. Jax’s eyes darted around the room, trying to see anything he could use to try to free himself. He couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, couldn’t stop whatever Gangle had planned for him. 
“As an employee, you have to remember to smile!” The video continued, Gangle sounding more and more manic. “Don’t worry, we can help you with that!”
More arms popped out of the chair, Jax feeling his heart skip a few beats when he saw what the hands were doing, wiggling their fingers at him teasingly. Gangle couldn’t be serious, right?! His dread only grew as two of the hands removed his shoes, another unbuttoning his work shirt.
“G-Gangle wait wait wait! I-I-I’m smiling! I’m smiling!” Jax cried in a panic, trying to pull his arms down. “Y-You don’t have to do this!”
The Video-Gangle tsked lightly “Silly, we have to make sure our employees know that we serve with a smile~!” A sinister giggle came from her as she said that.
Jax swore he was going to find a way to break that plastic mask Zooble gave her! However, his thoughts of revenge were put on hold as one of the hands made a few test pokes to his stomach, causing him to jolt. This was bad, the way Jax’s body had been designed in this digital world physically made him unable to bite his lip, so that strategy was out the window. Seems like the jolts he made were all the hands needed, descending upon him.
“W-Wahahahit wahhait nohhohohoho!” Jax snorted, trying to twist and turn away from the devilish hands.
“See, isn’t that better~?” Video-Gangle asked, her ribbons wiggling as well “I’ll check on you in a while!”
A while?! How long was a while?! The darn clock seemed busted, what if he was in there for hours?! Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Gangle, or the robotic arms cared, the TV turning off as a pair of hands attacked his armpits.
“N-Nohohohoh nohohoho come bahahahack!” Jax pleaded. “I-Ihihihih’m smihihihihihling!”
The robotic hands continued their assault, gently tracing around his armpits, while the ones on his stomach dug right in, causing him to attempt to kick his legs. They hadn’t exactly gotten to his absolute worst spots yet, but Jax had a feeling it was only a matter of time. His paws were exposed, and he could swear he could sense two hands just behind his ears, waiting for the go-ahead to strike.
“Cohohohohome ohohohohon!”
He really hated how much they could actually feel in the circus sometimes. Sure, it was funny to see the others in pain, or watch their panic as he attacked their own worst spots, but having the tables turned on him? It also didn’t help that, thanks to Gangle, the arms knew exactly where his worst spots were, and how harshly or softly to tickle them to drive him up the wall. 
Case in point, one hand swirling a finger right on his navel, threatening to tickle the inside, while also cruelly never actually doing it. The ones on his armpits spidered up and down, even attacking his ribs at a few points. Jax wasn’t sure how long the tickling had gone on for, before the TV turned back on, Gangle’s face smiling at him. The hands stopped, allowing the rabbit to catch his breath. The relief Jax felt was short-lived, however, as the Video-Gangle spoke again. “Step one of your employee reevaluation is complete!” Gangle told him, sounding proud. “Now that you’re smiling, we’ve got to work on your attitude! Being rude to customers, or other coworkers, especially by throwing them in the deep fryer, is strictly forbidden at Spudsy’s!”
“Come on, it’s not like Rags was hurt all that badly.” Jax tried to argue, before immediately regretting it as he noticed the arms were grabbing something just out of his field of vision, making him dread whatever would be next.
“That’s the kind of attitude I’m talking about!” Video-Gangle huffed, before smiling again. “So, I thought you could use some extra motivation!”
Jax’s heart, or, what he supposed he could call a heart in this digital body, nearly stopped as the mechanical hands came back with paint brushes.
“Oh… [trumpet honk]...” The rabbit responded in disbelief. “Y-You’re not actually [quack]ing serious, r-right?!”
Unfortunately for him, Gangle was dead serious, as the paintbrushes glided up and down his paws, making him snort. The pair of hands by his head also got in on the action, softly, slowly, and tortuously rubbing up and down the insides of ears, making him scream out in ticklish agony.
“GA-GAHAHAHANGLE NOHOHOHOHO!”
“Aww don’t worry, I’ll check on you in a while again!” More random noises came from Jax’s mouth, trying to swear, but instead there were a few more musical instrument noises, a car honk, and even a cow moo at one point. That only seemed to encourage the hands to be even harsher toward him, one of the paintbrushes going in between his toes. Jax howled with laughter, trying to twist and turn away from his fate.
“IIHIHIHIHIHIH HAHAHAHAHATE THIHIHIHIHIHIS STUHUHUHUHUHPID AHAHAHAHAHAVEHEHEHENTURE!”
Jax then let out an uncharacteristic squeal as he felt feathers brushing up and down his ears. This was maddening! As the paintbrushes picked up their pace, Jax felt a horrible thought enter his mind. Would Gangle actually let him out of here? Or would she just keep him there until the end of the adventure, making sure he couldn’t destroy anything or cause problems for anyone else? “P-PLEHEHEHEASE PLHEHEHEHEASE IIHIHIHIHI’LL BEHEHEHEHEHAVE!” Jax cried out desperately.
It seemed to work, as the tickling suddenly stopped, the arms releasing him. Jax caught his breath, feeling a few phantom tickles linger. He brought his hands up to his ears, trying to rub the tingling sensation away as the TV turned back on.
“Thank you, valued employee, for deciding to be a team player!” Video-Gangle told him, looking happy, proud, and… relieved? Maybe Jax was imagining things. “Of course, here at Spudsy’s, we respect our employees needing time for themselves, so you may take a few moments to get yourself together before heading back out there!”
Small mercies, Jax supposed. “You’re uh… not going to tell anyone about this, right?”
Video-Gangle simply giggled, before the TV turned off once again, leaving Jax alone with his thoughts. Well, he supposed this made both of them even, in a way. Jax knew about the figurine thing, and Gangle managed to make him beg for mercy. He shook his head, getting his dumb uniform back in order. Once he was more composed, one of the large hands from before gently pushed him out of the room and back into the work area, patting his head before disappearing to God knows where.
Back to work, Jax supposed.
283 notes · View notes
tkpuke · 2 months ago
Note
23 and jayvik pretty please :3
Jayce + Viktor - 23. “Yes…I mean, no!”
author’s note: okay so the plot for this was heavily inspired by @ticklish-ghost , @home-of-the-squirmle and I’s discussion on one of their posts so why not make it into a fic okay? okay cool
Tumblr media
It was nearing midnight, the only light shining into the lab through the curtains was the moon and its luminescent stars scattered around the sky. Viktor perched an elbow on the table, leaning his cheek on his hand while reading a book that could hold answers to have them move forward with their project. They were close, but it seemed like they were met with a dead end. Scientists don’t take those lightly, so they hungrily search for other possibilities and correct their mistakes on what went wrong.
He doesn’t have a clue on his partner’s whereabouts, but he’s not going to waste time searching for him. Usually Viktor takes the extra mile and works on projects a little more than he’s suppose to. He tends to struggle with the definition of teamwork when he’s been mostly alone his entire childhood, so he has no issue working alone while Jayce heads off for other duties or sleeps at a healthy time compared to Viktor’s sleep schedule.
It was peaceful and quiet. Viktor treasures nights like these. Until something was dropped beside him, creating a loud thunk.
“Look what I made.” A voice suddenly spoke out from behind, it belonging to Jayce which made Vitkor nearly jump a foot from his chair. “Jesus Christ—Jaycewhendidyougethere-“ He looked beside him to see what was dropped, picking it up to examine. An iron knife in the perfect size to fit in your pocket, the ends in a twisted pattern to make it look a little stylish. His face doesn’t show it, but Viktor is slightly impressed. There is no interest in him for weapons, but when it’s created so clean and perfected by Jayce himself, he can’t help but be in awe.
He then puts the knife down, finally meeting Jayce’s eyes. “Another tool that will never be used for its purpose.” Clear to say Jayce has made a couple of tools, most having the same theme: sharp and dangerous. He never uses them, as Viktor stated, but Jayce always gives the ‘you never know’ excuse. In reality the man just gets bored out of his mind at times and gets these random surges of creativity to go down and make any toys his heart desires. Who wouldn’t if they had the skill to properly do so?
Viktor’s eyes started to register that Jayce is full on shirtless right in front of him, muscles exposed and pumped to its core from all the wielding. It never really dawned on him how strong of a guy Jayce is, feeling a bit fragile and small the more he compared his own build to him. How easy it could be for Jayce to effortlessly pin him. How he could take away Viktor’s right to squirm by simply sitting on his waist. How he could be picked up with one singular arm by Jayce with zero sweat.
Jayce caught on to his more than five second stare. Viktor noticed.
He took attention to the soot covered all over Jayce’s upper body, taking that as an explanation of his longing stare. “You’re dirty. Here, sit.” Viktor nudged his head over to a nearby chair, heading over to grab a cloth that will soon be damped with water and soap. “Oh, thank you. You really don’t have to.” Jayce chuckles all flustered in appreciation by Viktor’s care, taking the seat anyway. Viktor comes back, starting to dab the cloth on his shoulders while he works his way down. “Hmph, I’ve seen you sleep before in this state. Least I can do is help you get cleaned up.”
“Hey, I get too exhausted sometimes!” Jayce replies defensively, but gives a soft smile at the end. He grabs the knife he created earlier, fingers feeling around it. “You have to admit, this one looks a bit cooler than the others I have made.” Viktor nods in somewhat agreement, now focusing on the upper chest to clean off. “You can keep it, if you want to of course.”
Viktor shakes his head, not meeting Jayce’s eyes while conversing. “There’s no need for me to have it, but thank you for your…kind offer.”
“You’re keeping it.” Jayce responds back with, putting it on top of the open book Vitkor was previously reading so he won’t forget to take it with him. The other only sighs, being aware it’s a losing battle to argue with Jayce when he’s so set on gifting someone something they’ve never asked for. It’s one of the man’s many love languages: giving gifts.
His hand started moving down more, getting near his upper ribs. A quick shift of change in Jayce’s demeanor, beginning to have trouble sitting still like before and biting down his lip hard. Viktor catches on. Of course he did when he begin to rub the cloth against his body more gently, hoping it sent a ticklish shockwave. Revenge was right in front of him from all the times Viktor was ruthlessly, in his opinion, tickled silly by Jayce who never shot down an opening opportunity to do so. Little to Jayce’s knowledge, Viktor has been seeking out opportunities himself to get back. The whole idea of touch is just a subject he awkwardly moves around in, never having someone so playful and lovingly touchy like Jayce in his life.
With the way Jayce was squirming and huffing air out of his nose to suppress the giggles forming in his throat, it fueled newfound confidence in Viktor’s actions. He took it a step further, pretending a spot of soot around Jayce’s ribs was giving him difficulty to rub off, so he pressed his fingers deeper while curling them a little.
Not expecting the firmer touch along with feeling nails through the cloth gliding around his ribs freely, a surprised gasp slips out. Small giggles came right after, instinctively grabbing ahold of Viktor’s wrist. Viktor raises a brow, feigning confusion. “Sorry, does this tickle?”
“Yes…I mean, no!” Jayce got too distracted from the ticklish grazes that the question failed to register on time for him to think of an answer that may save his dignity. Viktor nudges Jayce’s firm grip off of his wrist, and he hesitantly does so. His partner looks up, doing incredibly well on not cracking a smile to foil his true intentions. “Yes? No? Which one is it?”
Jayce finds Viktor’s calmness to a newfound discovery nerve-racking, wishing he could read his mind right then and there. This is the first time Viktor has ever tried to tickle Jayce, but the poor man truly believes it was done on accident. He’s been so use to Viktor taking his ticklish onslaughts like a champ and never immediately attacking back, or even days later. Jayce had his own assumption that Viktor would never live up fully to his playfulness and do so much as tickle him back. The guy doesn’t even complete Jayce’s friendly hugs most of the time by wrapping his own arms around him, just kind of standing there until he pulls away.
So that’s why Jayce is sitting here, staring into Viktor’s questioning eyes, not knowing exactly on how to respond. He decides to lie, feeling like there’s no use in telling the truth if Viktor won’t indulge a little more.
“Um, just a little. Felt weird mostly.” He so badly does a terrible job of convincing. He releases a quiet held back sigh, not knowing if it was out of relief or disappointment when Viktor continued on cleaning after not questioning him a bit more. Viktor created a pattern, dragging the cloth and his fingers across Jayce’s skin that wasn’t ticklish at all. Then in the middle of doing so, he would press more firmly and curl his fingers again just enough for his nails to graze.
Jayce is terrible at holding in his giggles, making weird ‘kcchh!’ noises and sometimes letting a couple out for a few seconds but in a whisper tone as if Viktor isn’t right in front of him to hear them all. “You’re giggling a lot for someone who claims to just be a little ticklish.” Viktor nonchalantly states, placing a hand on top of Jayce’s shoulder to keep him steady. Jayce was about to do another failed attempt of denying until that pattern Viktor was doing met down around his stomach.
Jayce snorts, instantly slapping a hand to cover his mouth in shock as Viktor pauses his movements. His mouth twitches upward for a split second, almost smiling from Jayce’s flushed cheeks. “Oh, so it does tickle.”
“Viktor, wait—“
“You lied to me?”
“Nononono, it’s just that—“
“No need to explain yourself, Jayce. I’ll be careful.” You’d have to be dumb to not practically hear the smile in Viktor’s tone. Both of them, and if anyone else were to be in that room, would very much know that Victor won’t be ‘careful’. Viktor kept up that god forsaken pattern again, but this time letting it tickle Jayce more frequently than it cleaning.
He observed Jayce’s reactions, testing out different areas around his stomach and what brought out a louder reaction than the other. Fingers curling to the middle of his stomach earned him a full boisterous laugh. Nearing his belly button made him receive laughs that shot an octave higher with an occasional whistle coming from the gap of his two front teeth. Cleaning over his belly button made Jayce snort again, a noise Viktor was seeking out for.
Jayce’s rambunctious laugh got Viktor stuck in a trance. How it’s so loud it can be heard from all over Piltover. Jayce’s high pitch snorts coming out only when Viktor tickles somewhere particularly more sensitive. His eyes being closed shut, a random push to Viktor’s face as if it’ll tone down the ticklish sensations. Viktor now understands Jayce completely. He doesn’t want to stop the fun and hearing the flow of his laugh, everything so mesmerizing and ridiculously childish. Viktor could do this all day. 
Two hands grab Viktor’s wrists while a leg kicked out when he dragged the cloth over his belly button again, shaking his head. “Hohold on plehehease!”
Viktor scoffed. “Stop being a baby. I’m not doing anything.” But it was clear as day everything was now being done with purpose. Hands still holding onto Viktor’s wrists, Jayce takes the granted time to catch his breath. “Hehehe…ohohokay, I am one hundred percent sure I’m clean now.”
Viktor tsked, watching him take in air like he ran a marathon. “I think you might be more ticklish than me, Jayce. Isn’t that something?” Jayce abruptly stares at him, peeved. “Ohoho, is that what you think? Let’s put it to the test then.”
Viktor is now the one grabbing at Jayce’s wrists, pushing with all his might out of reach. “No, Jayce! Stop!” Jayce manages to skitter across Viktor’s side, earning him a squeak that he’s terribly embarrassed of. Jayce relishes it.
“What are you, a mouse?” He teases, letting Viktor push his hands away so he can feel like he’s having the upper hand ever so often just to play fair. Viktor stops his attempts of fighting back, shooting a glare but meanwhile grinning. “At least I don’t snort like a pig.”
Viktor just sealed his own coffin shut. “Oh, is that how you want to play?” Jayce gets up from his spot, startling Viktor. He picks him up with ease, showing no effect of Viktor’s shoves and shouts to be put down at once. Jayce lays him down on the couch softly, a location Viktor is all too familiar with by how frequent Jayce pins him down and tickles him mercilessly whenever Viktor, in Jayce’s words, deserves it.
Jayce does not attack right away, taking the time out of pure entertainment to watch him struggle a bit as if by some miracle today is the day Viktor manages to escape Jayce’s evil clutches.
He’s already giggling. “Jahayce, I am telling you now. Do not.” He manages to sit up a bit, hoping to level with Jayce more and seem convincingly threatening when his cold glare meets his eyes.
Jayce’s hands started slowly moving downwards.
“I now know where you’re most ticklish. I promise you, I will not be gentle when my next chance comes if you dare to do this.”
A leap of excitement was felt in Jayce’s heart at those words, causing him to smile and shrug before drilling into Viktor’s hips.
“I can live with that.”
203 notes · View notes
nikki-tine · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
I. uh. ahem. /////
You don't see anything, shoo! /silly
425 notes · View notes
magpieddd · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
you’re not immune to the onceler
897 notes · View notes
mushyblushyredhead · 29 days ago
Note
pleaseeeee im begging for more alien au contenttt its been stuck in my head for days nowwww
like my favorite thing ever is horror movie au's where its actually twordy (Saw is another great example)
m just very soft and lee and i really wanna hold the silly little chittering facehugger bfegrwtegrwbgde
- another red-head lee
I’m such a sucker for horror movie twordy AUs! I’ve heard Saw is another good one! (If I ever get around to watching the Saw movies, I’ll definitely do another twordy AU for that franchise!) ♡
Aaaaa allow me to feed you some more AU crumbs! For being so sweet and supportive of my Alien AU, enjoy these drawings I cooked up a few days ago!✨
Tumblr media Tumblr media
*hands you a facehugger* (つ'ω'*)づ
153 notes · View notes
jordanswitches · 4 months ago
Text
want you to sit on my lap while we're hanging out with friends and i have my arms wrapped around your waist cuddling into you and my fingers are stroking your side in a way that looks like it should feel nice but i can feel how tense you are from trying not to react so our friends don't notice and you need me to stop because you don't know how much longer you can hold still and be quiet but also it's working you up so bad. why don't you just let go and show everyone how ticklish you are? maybe i'd let them have a go on you
223 notes · View notes
hexavex788 · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
unfianeshd
684 notes · View notes
cloudysfluffs · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
REALLY considered not posting this one.......might delete later
ns//fw and/or ki//nk blogs please dni!!!
902 notes · View notes
guppygiggles · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“No answer? Well, the least you could do is hold still for me — I’d hate to have to pin down that pretty head of yours…”
131 notes · View notes
greenticklerdreams · 4 months ago
Text
You've been so anxious and stressed lately. You get in your head and you overthink things, ruminating in circles and you just can't stop, even if you want to. It feels like nothing I say is helping, but maybe words aren't what you need right now...
Would you like to be tickled, dear? Would it help? You don't have to say it, you can just nod.
Here's what we're going to do. For the next few hours... you are not allowed to think. I forbid it. What you're going to do... is feel.
Feel my fingers running over your body, long traces, rapid skitters, fluttering in place and refusing to move, scritches and pokes on those tiniest little tickle spots, and digging in with my fingertips and squeezing where you need to be absolutely wrecked. Feel all of your favorite tools, applied just the way you like them to the places that will send you over the edge. Feel my mouth, softly kissing, licking, and nibbling, adoring you even as I tickle you, adding affection and heat to the cocktail of sensation I'm serving you.
You may squirm, thrash, and flail. That's what the restraints are for, and why I'm pinning you so firmly - so you can't get away from your treatment. You may laugh, giggle, guffaw, squeal, moan, even scream - any adorable and delightful noises you need to get out (I'll love them all). You may beg and plead, protest and whine, even curse me if you feel the urge. What you are NOT permitted to do is think.
There is nothing TO think about right now. I'm taking all of that away for you. The world doesn't exist in here. It's just you, and me, and the ticklish sensations flooding your body... warm, electric, unbearable, inescapable. You don't have any decisions to make - you only have to react to what's happening to you. You don't have any worries or fears, other than I might not ever stop tickling you... but you'd love that, wouldn't you, dear? You're safe and happy in my embrace, the embrace of cuffs and rope and my weight, my hands and my mouth and all our fun toys, and the tickles themselves taking control of your body so you can't fight back, can't concentrate - only feel.
Let me take care of you tonight, my darling lee. Let me take you away from all this for a while. Let's get lost in sensation together. The only thing better than your ticklish laughter will be seeing your smile when it's all over, contented and refreshed and so, so happy.
154 notes · View notes
an0ma1y-th3d0ma1y · 4 months ago
Text
Tickletober DAY 5: Punishment
Tumblr media
This might be my favorite so far 😭😭😭
172 notes · View notes
oliviaischillin1204 · 4 months ago
Note
Imagine Pre-Accepting Anxiety Virgil walking into the common room and seeing the Light Sides having a tickle fight. Now he has to find a way to keep his tough guy act while dealing with being a secret lee!
HAPPY TICKLETOBER EVERYONE!!! we're starting off strong with this ask, sent to me on jun 18 2020 lmaooooooooooo. if this prompt seems familiar, it's b/c it was also sent to @why-not-a-tickle-blog around the same time! (link to her story here!) and when i tell you've literally been working on this wip on and off ever since i got it,,,,, i am such a wip harder AJDFHGHDJ
and now, without further ado, let's let tickletober 2024 begin!
tickletober day 1- "anticipation"
word count: 7,580 words
So... the Light Sides were weird.
Virgil knew that way before he’d started hanging around their little group. From movie nights to sing-alongs to family dinners, they were overall obnoxiously chummy and irritatingly comfortable with each other.
Case in point: when Virgil finally managed to roll out of bed at about two in the afternoon, there was a strange sound in the air. Not Princey’s singing, or Logic’s lecturing, or even Morality’s incessantly cheerful... whatever he does. 
After reapplying his smeared eye shadow, he meandered out of his room and headed to the common area. As he got closer, it sounded like... laughter?
He huffed a sigh as he swung himself down the stairs.
“Can you all please keep it down--”
Virgil froze, one hand on the railing as he took in the scene before him.
There were the three Light Sides, but he’d never seen them like this. Princey-- ugh, fine, Roman-- was lying on the floor, but what caught Virgil’s eye was the state of disarray he seemed to be in. Next to him was Patton, sitting cross legged and looking similarly rumpled, and next to Patton was Logan, who was normal except for the blush riding high on his cheeks.
That wasn’t the weirdest part, though. The weirdest part was the way Logan was pinching at Roman’s knees and thighs with a careful accuracy, or the way Roman was reaching to vibrate his fingers all over Patton’s stomach, or the Patton had a hand on both Logan’s and Roman’s sides and was squeezing away with reckless abandon. Or the way all three were laughing together in delight at the tickle fight Virgil had somehow managed to walk in on.
Speaking of Virgil: when he processed the scene happening before him, he couldn’t help but let out a surprised little gasp. That noise, quiet as it was in the chaotic room, still managed to stop the other three in their tracks, and they all turned to look at him.
Patton, of course, was the first to speak. “Well, hey, Anxiety!”
“Um--” was all Virgil managed to say. His face turned hot, and he prayed that it wasn’t as bright red as it felt. He gripped the railing under his hand and avoided eye contact. “I--”
Roman scoffed, hurriedly sitting up and pulling away from Logan’s tickly hands.
“Is there something we can help you with, villain?” he asked brusquely, but Virgil got the feeling that he was more embarrassed that Virgil saw him getting tickled than annoyed that the anxious side was there. Still, his words were enough to snap Virgil out of his spell, and he managed to roll his eyes.
“I said,” he repeated, hoping his voice wouldn’t fail him, “would you please keep it down? You’re gonna wake the whole Mind Palace with your... game.”
There was the crack in his voice; Virgil knew it was going to come, and he felt himself grow even warmer. Thankfully, no one commented on it.
“Apologies, Anxiety,” Logan said, straightening his glasses. “We didn’t intend to be so loud. We got... carried away.”
Patton giggled, his hands creeping back to Logan and Roman’s sides. “’Carried away’ sure is one way to put it, guys--”
The other two swatted his hands away, but Virgil caught the flustered grins that adorned both of their faces. Their eyes darted back to Virgil, and he swallowed, suddenly feeling very out of place.
“Uh, okay, fine. Whatever. I’m going back to bed.”
He turned on his heel and marched up the stairs, ignoring Logan’s calls about maintaining a proper sleep schedule, as he tried to stop thinking about what he’d just witnessed.
It wasn’t working. All he could think about now was tickling. How often did the Light Sides tickle each other? Was it often? Who was the most ticklish, and who was the best tickler? Was it always the three of them altogether?
Would they let him join, if he asked?
Virgil’s eyes widened at the thought that just ran through his head. No. Absolutely not, no way, don’t pass go and don’t collect $200.
Like, fine, maybe there was a small part of him that was maybe, just a little, interested in the concept of tickling. And... maybe there was an even smaller part of him that found the idea of being tickled by the Light Sides-- any of them-- somewhat intriguing.
But, fuck. He was Anxiety, for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t like stuff like that. If he asked to be a part of their stupid little game, they’d never let him live it down.
... But. Maybe if he didn’t ask?
He slowly stopped walking as he thought it over in his head. It wasn’t an awful idea. The Light Sides were weird enough that maybe, if he played his cards right, he might be able to lure them into tickling him without him asking.
Honestly, if the idea had come to him on another day, he probably would’ve shoved it way back to the back of his mind and pretended it had no appeal to him. But he could practically still hear the Light Sides’ laughter ringing in his ears, and as much as he was loathe to admit it, he kinda wanted to be a part of their game. So his plan was made.
~
His first target was Patton, which made sense for a lot of reasons. Patton seemed to tolerate him more than the other Light Sides-- more than tolerate, to be honest; it was as if he actually kinda liked him. Another good thing about Patton was his attitude: while Virgil normally found that much cheer to be a little nauseating, he couldn’t deny that if anyone was going to start an impromptu tickle fight, it would be Patton.
“Thanks for helping me with these cookies, Anxiety!” Patton said, bringing Virgil out of his thoughts and back to the present situation. He leaned against the counter, trying his hardest to appear open and approachable.
“Whatever,” he replied. “I don’t really have anything better to do, so. Uh. Yeah.”
Fuck, why was he always so awkward?
Whatever-- at least Patton didn’t seem to notice or care; instead, he was focused on pulling out all of the supplies and ingredients and laying them on the counter.
“Okay, first up is the dry ingredients!” he instructed. “Kiddo, you wanna hand me the flour?”
Virgil nodded, pushing himself off of the counter. “Where is it?”
“It’s, uh...”
Patton paused, looking around he kitchen, and Virgil smirked a little as he was reminded that the paternal figure wasn’t nearly as good at cooking as he implied.
“Oh! It’s right up there!” he finally chirped, pointing past Virgil to one of the cabinets. Virgil followed his finger to the very top shelf of the cabinet.
His eyes widened. Finally, an opportunity.
As casually as possible, he moved to the cabinet and braced on hand on the counter. The other hand, he raised high in the air, stretching out his entire body and putting himself in a very vulnerable position. He even stood on his tiptoes as he stretched, hoping Patton would take the hint and deliver what Virgil wanted.
He reached for the flour for as long as he reasonably could, but after about ten seconds, he had no choice but to grab it and pull it down. He turned around, only to find Patton carefully measuring out baking soda, not even paying attention to Virgil’s attempts at vulnerability.
Virgil kicked himself internally, and after a moment he moved forward and dropped the flour onto the counter.
“Here,” he said shortly. Patton turned, giving him a wide smile.
“Thanks, bud!” he said earnestly, opening the bag and grabbing his measuring cup. “Wanna do this one for me while I get started on the eggs?”
Virgil blinked. He’d kinda forgotten that his whole excuse for hanging out with Patton was baking cookies. “Um, sure.”
Patton gave him yet another sunny smile, and Virgil felt compelled to give him a small one in return as he accepted the measuring cup from him.
The two worked together, measuring and mixing ingredients as Patton chattered away. It was-- kinda nice, to be real? Like, maybe Virgil should offer to do this more often, and if he weren’t in one of the most massive lee moods he’d ever been in in his life, he’d probably be able to appreciate it more.
“Alright, time to get these babies on a cookie sheet!” Patton announced, handing a big spoon for Virgil to use. “And afterwards, don’t tell Logan, but we’re totally gonna lick the bowl.”
Virgil nodded, but he didn’t wanna give up on his mission just yet. “Um... can I, uh, get anything else for you?”
Patton turned and looked at him, blinking in surprise before his smile brightened.
“Well, sure, kiddo!” he replied. “There are some chocolate chips on the top shelf, do we wanna add some of those?”
He pointed to the cabinet that was right above them, and Virgil’s heart beat faster. This was it.
“Sure,” he replied as casually as possible. “I’ll get them.”
He placed a hand on the counter to brace himself, and raised the arm closest to Patton as high as he could reach, pretending to scrabble around for the bag of chocolate chips for a few seconds longer than necessary. He even angled his body as subtly as he could, so that his midriff was practically in Patton’s face as he left himself totally exposed.
But nothing happened.
Virgil frowned, but after a few seconds grabbed the bag from the cabinet anyway, lowering himself back to the floor as he broke the seal on the baggie.
“Here,” he muttered, passing it to Patton without making eye contact. There was the slightest pause, but then the bag was lifted from his hand with no more than a cheery, “Thanks!”
Virgil felt himself suppress a sigh as he helped Patton mix in the chocolate chips. Well. On one hand, he got to spend some time with Patton (and even got cookies out of the deal). On the other hand, his genius plot to get tickled had failed with his first target. It was time for target number two.
~
The sound of operatic singing through the halls of the Mind Palace lead Virgil directly to his next target.
He sighed as he nibbled on one of the chocolate chip cookies he and Patton had made, trying to dispel some of his nervous energy before he reached the living room. It wasn’t even just nerves about his current... desires (although there were plenty of those inside of him right now) but-- fuck, he didn’t do this, he didn’t hang around in the common areas like the rest of them, and if it would be totally weird for him to even try, and they were gonna get angry at him, and it would make getting to know them even more difficult in the future-- 
“Oh, Anxiety.” 
A voice full of suspicion snapped him back to reality. He blinked and realized that he’d made it to the living room, where Roman was standing with some sheet music in hand, rehearsing for some musical, based on how loudly he’d been singing moments before.
“To what do I owe the displeasure?” he continued, eyes narrowed sharply. Virgil mentally shook himself and put on his trademark ‘evil’ smirk.
“Hey there, Princey,” he drawled, holding out the Tupperware container in his hand. “Wanna cookie?”
Roman peered down at the peace offering like it was a bomb. “From you? What, are they poisoned?”
“Yep, I poisoned the cookies,” Virgil deadpanned. “That’s why I’m eating one right in front of you, genius.”
He counted the look of embarrassed realization on Roman’s face as a small victory. 
“Well-- well, you might’ve poisoned all but one of them, just to throw me off!” Roman added haughtily. “So, ha!” 
Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “Ha.” He looked at Roman for a moment more before taking another bite. “Well, you were rude to me, so now you get no cookies.”
“What-- hey!” Roman replied indignantly. He moved to Virgil, but the dark side easily held the box out of reach. “Anxiety! That’s not fair!”
“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder than that to get these cookies,” Virgil said smugly. He was all to aware of how exposed he was making himself-- it would take so little effort for Roman to grab his side, or scribble at his armpit, or...
But, as expected, nothing came of it, and instead Roman moved away with a derisive sniff.
“Whatever,” he said, turning away. “Even if they’re not poisoned, you probably added salt instead of sugar and cumin instead of cinnamon--”
Virgil narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “Hey, Patton and I made them together, and they’re actually good, so--"
Suddenly Roman's arm shot out, taking advantage of Virgil's distraction to swipe a cookie from the box. “Ha! Got one, thank you!”
Virgil blinked. “You--"
He cut himself off at the genuinely triumphant grin on Roman's face, and it took more willpower than he would've admitted to keep from smiling along.
"Yes, yes, you’re very smart," he said, flopping on the couch and rolling his eyes. "Shut up.”
As he reclined against the sofa, he let his eyes drift shut (insomnia's a bitch, even for a man on a mission to get wrecked), but very quickly it became clear that the other side was going to make a fuckin' production out of eating this cookie.
“Mmm... Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm!" Roman pondered with his mouth full. He waved his arms emphatically as he continued, "This is just the most scrumptious, the most divine, the most splendiferous cookie I’ve ever--”
Virgil's eyes snapped open. “Are you always this dramatic and loud? I’m trying to relax.”
That caught the creative side's attention. Roman turned to look at Virgil with his regular suspicion back in his eyes.
“Relax? Here?”
His tone made Virgil tense up behind his cocky facade. “What about it?”
A few second went by as Roman looked at him skeptically. “Nothing, it’s just... You’re always in your room, hiding away like a hermit in a cave.”
“Hiding?" Virgil repeated, eyes narrowed. "What, from you? Not likely.”
Roman moved closer, suddenly leaning over Virgil's laid out form and coming just inches away from his face.
“Aw, don't tell me that I scare you, little Anxiety?”
With that one sentence, Virgil mood came back even stronger than before. There was something in Roman’s voice-- either his teasing tone or his babyish words-- that made Virgil’s stomach do a completely rude and uncalled-for flip, but he merely rolled his eyes.
“The only thing scary about you is your ego,” he retorted. He scanned Roman up and down before closing his eyes again. “Otherwise, you’re just soft.”
Roman scoffed, turning to leave. “Shut up.”
“Make me, loser.”
He watched Roman’s back as he froze in place, and slowly the creative side turned back around.
“You wanna say that again?”
Virgil felt his breath catch, but he forced himself to stay calm. Now was his chance.
He opened his eyes, shooting Roman the cockiest smile he could muster.
“What, make me?”
The prince was glowering at him, his arms folded across his chest. When he spoke, it was in a deep, smooth voice that sent a shiver down Virgil’s spine.
“You don’t want me to make you.”
Virgil smirked, folding his arms behind his head and gazing up at Roman with a smug look on his face.
“I’d like to see you try, Princey.”
That was it. Roman’s eyes narrowed, dark and competitive, and Virgil had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing preemptively.
“You’re gonna regret that,” he muttered lowly, stalking over to Virgil and-- holy shit, he actually straddled Virgil’s waist and placed his hands on either side of his torso, and this was happening, this was happening, this was--
“Oh my goodness gracious, there it is!”
Roman voice derailed Virgil’s train of thought, and he blinked in confusion at the creative side, who wasn’t even looking at him anymore.
“What--?”
Roman laughed lightly, reaching over Virgil’s head and pulling something out from between the couch cushions.
“My sketchbook!” he said triumphantly, shifting off of Virgil and flipping through the pages. “Finally, I’ve been looking for it forever. I had this great idea where I can use a mix of paint and glitter glue to--”
Virgil’s head spun with the shift in the conversation as Roman rambled about his newest project. The anticipatory tension in his stomach started to lessen, leaving him feeling dazed and confused.
“Um, you-- so-- you--”
Roman wasn’t even listening to him; he easily stood up from the couch-- and Virgil definitely did not try to lean into his touch as he moved away, shut up-- and moved toward the door.
“I must get started right away! My paintbrushes aren’t going to wait any longer!”
He hurried out of the room, leaving Virgil alone on the couch, face flushed and mind full of visions of how exactly he wanted Roman to use those paintbrushes.
He dropped his face into his hands. Why was this so hard?
~
The rest of the afternoon passed without another little event like that-- Virgil had been so flustered, he’d had to go back to his room for several hours, alternating between screaming into a pillow at his own awkwardness, and daring to reminisce about the feeling of Roman's weight pinning him down.
This was such a bad idea. Not only were there a million ways it could go wrong (he could make a fool of himself, he could genuinely cross someone's boundaries on accident, his plan could be found out and his desires could be rejected-- the list goes on) but now he also had to deal with coming so tantalizing close to what he wants more than anything, only to have it slip just out of his reach.
He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night, flopping back on his bed--
pressed against the couch cushions, Roman easily holding you down with one hand as the other searches all over for the exact spot to make you beg for mercy, which you know he won't give you, he wants to make you scream--
Immediately he shot up again, face flushed. God, he was jumpy tonight, and that was saying something. He stood up, stepping cautiously around the piles of clothes on the floor to work some of his jitters out. He tried to recall some of the simple exercises Logan had shown him once to help relax him before bed: rolling his neck and shoulders, twisting back and forth to crack his back, raising his arms and stretching them high to the sky--
Patton right behind you, grabbing your hands and holding them nice and tight as he laughs and whispers in your ear, taking full advantage of your riding-up shirt to spider all over that one tickle spot just above your belly button--
His arms snapped down with a choked-off gasp.
Okay. Being in his room was fucking with him. That was definitely why he was feeling jittery and twitchy and sensitive to his own shirt rubbing against his skin. No other reason.
... He had to get out of there.
Grabbing his phone and flipping up his hood, Virgil slid back out into the hallway. It was later in the evening, past dinner time (well, past the time the Light Sides had dinner-- his dinner would involve cold leftovers eaten in front of the fridge at 2 AM) and the Mind Palace was quiet.
Well... mostly quiet.
Virgil crept down the hall to the top of the stairs. From the top, he could make out some sound coming from the living room-- no laughter this time, thankfully, but some quiet droning noises coming from the TV. Probably Patton or Roman-- Logan didn't watch much TV.
Virgil stood with one hand clasped to the stair railing like a life line. He gnawed on his lip, a fluttery, delicate feeling lighting up his chest.
He wanted to try this. There were very few things Virgil ever, ever wanted to try... but he wanted to try this. It was clearly something that was normal among the Light Sides, and-- and despite what he'd previously thought, they don't actually... seem to despise his company. This was-- this was something he could ask for, even just to ask, and even he could admit that the idea of one of them saying yes wasn't impossible.
All at once he lunged down the stairs, feet thumping loudly as he got closer to the living room. He would do it-- he'd go right over to the couch and shove his feet onto someone's lap and surely then, surely then, someone would take pity on him and just freaking tickle him already!
Virgil rounded the corner into the living room, and before he could question himself he hopped over the arm of the couch and threw himself down on the cushions, shoving his feet directly onto the lap of the side sitting at the other end of the couch.
Immediately, he felt two inquisitive eyes boring into him in bewilderment.
"... Anxiety?" Logan asked. "Are you alright?"
Aaaaaaand there went all of Virgil's confidence. He hadn't planned for Logan to be there, not now, not when his mood was at an all time high and he was face to face with the person least likely to do anything about it.
Virgil ignored the tense, mortified feeling in his stomach. “Yup.” A beat, and then he pulled out his phone, as if he hadn't just jumped over the couch just to put his feet in Logan's lap--
“Can I... do something for you?” Logan continued.
Yes, you can pull my socks off and hold my ankles down and--
“Nope.”
Silence fell once again. Virgil was all too aware of his body, too tense to move a muscle or disrupt Logan any further.
“Is this comfortable for you? To have your feet on my lap?”
But... he'd come this far, he'd already pushed past the walls he'd built between himself and the other sides. If nothing else, if this plan failed and he never got what he wanted, at least he could say that he tried.
He shrugged. “Yeah."
He felt Logan's eyes on him a moment longer.
“Very well, then.”
Logan turned back to the TV, and Virgil felt himself wavering already. This was maybe his most ill-conceived idea yet-- they weren't even doing anything together, not really, and try as he might he couldn't think of any way to engage Logan in conversation about anything, let alone anything related to tickling--
“Hey, gang!”
Virgil froze, his stomach plummeting. He shot a desperate glance at Logan, but the logical side paid him no mind as Patton and Roman entered the room, carrying snacks and blankets.
“Ah,” Logan said, turning to the two of them without another glance in Virgil’s direction. “I had forgotten that was tonight.”
Virgil couldn’t help letting out a sigh of frustration, making Roman raise an eyebrow.
“Oh, and I suppose you’re just too cool to deign to join our movie night, huh, Doom and Gloom?”
“Now, Roman, don’t be mean,” Patton gently chastised, placing the snacks on the table and beaming down at Virgil. “We’re happy to have you with us, Anxiety! It’s about time you start joining our group activities.”
Like tickle fights? Virgil thought but didn't say. His ever-growing lee mood was making him feel all fuzzy, and all he could think about as he looked between the three other sides was Patton’s hands, Logan’s fingers, and Roman’s voice, all teasing and tormenting him in unison.
“Whatever,” he finally said, forcing himself to shrug blithely. “I don’t really care--”
He cut himself off with a choked gasp as Roman leaned down and abruptly picked up Virgil into a bridal carry. They stayed still as Patton sat down next to Logan, rearranging the blankets and chattering innocently about what movie to watch, but all Virgil could focus on was the feeling of Roman’s hands on his body and the teasy, squirmy feeling building up in his chest and stomach.
“Are you staying with us or not?” Roman asked lowly, and Virgil had to fight the urge to squeak as his warm breath hit his ear. 
“Uh-- sure.”
Roman hummed, and then he was leaning forward, dropping Virgil into Patton’s lap with his feet resting on Logan’s thighs.
“Woah!” Patton chuckled, looking at Virgil with amusement. “Comfy, kiddo?”
Virgil face flushed red. “I-- I didn’t--”
“He’s gonna stay anyway, and we all know he likes to sit in weird places, so,” Roman explained, flopping down on the couch next to Patton and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. He pulled a pillow into his lap and gently pushed Virgil back by his shoulder, until the Dark Side somehow found himself stretched between all three of them on the couch.
“Anxiety, is this acceptable for you?” Logan asked distantly, and Virgil peeked up to find him observing him closely. Virgil froze in his gaze for what felt like far too long, but eventually managed a short nod.
Patton clapped. “Awesome! Now we all get to hang out together. It’ll be so fun!”
He leaned forward to grab the remote, and Virgil swore he could feel his hands as they ghosted over his stomach. He squirmed minutely, both hoping that no one would call him out on how flustered he was, and praying that they would.
This was way more than he was expecting.
"Ah," Logan said as the movie began playing. "I do love this opening number."
He moved like he was folding his hands in his lap, but really, he placed his hands directly onto the tops of Virgil's ankles. The music started, and Logan-- Logan tapped out a rhythm against Virgil's skin, matching the tempo of the music on the TV.
Virgil clenched his jaw so quickly he wondered if they could hear it. It... didn't tickle, not really. The touch was too light, too quick, too inconsequential to really light his nerves in any way. But the anticipation was there, bubbling inside him, and he found himself shifting his legs restlessly at the touch.
"Is something wrong, Anxiety?" Logan asked, and Virgil paused. It-- it must've been his imagination, that spark in Logan's eye that matched the spark in Virgil's stomach. "No," he said, just slightly breathless. Logan hummed and returned his eyes to the screen.
Then his hands moved: one hand tapping more firmly against his ankle, and the other running its nails along the top of Virgil's foot.
Virgil tensed every muscle in his legs; it was so much worse this time-- not only did being stretched out make Virgil feel so much more vulnerable, but now there were two other people he had to hide his reactions from. Roman was right there, for God's sake, his face mere inches above Virgil's-- Virgil had to turn his head completely toward the TV just to hide the small smile that was already on his face.
He stayed in that position as the movie played, but he couldn't tell you anything that was happening on the screen. All he could focus on was Logan's fingers as they slowly migrated from trailing the top of his foot, to tapping directly over his socked toes, to drawing delicate circles along the ball of his foot. His other hand stayed on Virgil's ankle-- like a restraint.
Virgil felt flushed, and prayed that the dark lighting of the room would cover it. Distantly he heard Patton laughing, and he could feel Roman's chest rumble where it was pressed against his shoulder.
And then he felt Logan take all five fingers right to the center of Virgil's sole and tickle.
"Nah-hahaha!" Virgil screamed, yanking his leg back and just barely missing Patton's face with his knee. He felt both Patton and Roman jump underneath him.
"Anxiety, are you okay?" Patton asked in a panicked voice. He didn't even seem bothered that Virgil had almost thrown his knee into his nose.
Roman looked down at Virgil with bewilderment. "Jiminy Crickets, is the movie that funny to you?"
“Ah,” Logan said. “My hypothesis was correct.”
Virgil froze.
Patton quirked his head. “You have a hypothesis?”
Roman eyed down at Virgil suspiciously for just a moment more before gesturing to Logan. “Please, Teach, explain."
Alarm bells went off in Virgil's head. He was suddenly desperate to leave the entire situation before it was too late, but Logan's hand resting on his ankle felt like a vice he couldn't escape.
“Well," Logan began in his lecture voice, "for the past few hours, Anxiety has been expressing an interest in becoming closer with the three of us through quality time, amicable banter, and excessive physical contact. The physical contact is really what gave it away, but it all comes down to the fact that this change in behavior occurred immediately after Anxiety walked in on our... roughhousing this morning.”
Virgil was distracted by the way Logan tried to avoid saying the word tickle (and man, Virgil thought, it’d be so much fun to see him forced to say it, oh my god shut up brain) but Patton’s gasp of understanding brought him back to his present situation. He looked away from the moral side, but to his distress he found himself face to face with Roman, who was looking at him with a growing interest.
“Wait a minute,” he said slowly. Virgil squirmed.
“Shut up.”
“Are you telling me--”
“Princey, I swear to God, if you don’t stop talking right now--”
Suddenly Patton’s hand was on his leg, his fingers pressing in just above his knee, and Virgil’s words turned into a choked gasp.
Patton quirked his head. “Are you ticklish, kiddo?”
Virgil’s mouth opened and shut. “I-- I--”
And of course, Logan chose that moment to drag his nails all the way down Virgil’s foot, the hand resting on Virgil's ankle suddenly tightening to keep him from jerking away as his fingers wiggled right against Virgil's tickle spots.
Virgil couldn’t help it: he squealed, loudly, and immediately buried his face in his hands.
“That seems to be the answer to that question,” Logan said, sounding far too pleased with himself for Virgil’s taste. “The more important question, however, is whether or not Anxiety wants to be tickled. Although I believe we know that answer to that question, as well.”
Even with his face behind his hands, Virgil felt all three pairs of eyes on him.
"I--" he squeaked, then coughed, blatantly stalling for time as his mind spun in circles. "I-- um-- you don't-- I guess--"
"Kiddo, is that really what you've been trying to do all day long?" Patton asked gently. Virgil made one short, choked sound, and nodded rapidly.
"... So when I told you to be quiet earlier," Roman said slowly, "and you said 'make me'... that was you trying to get tickled?"
A beat, and then Virgil nodded again. He quickly debated the merits of allowing himself to be swallowed by the floor.
"Well..."
Logan's voice was laced with something that Virgil was wholly unprepared for.
"It would be a shame," he continued nonchalantly, "if Anxiety came so far out of his figurative shell only to not receive any recognition or praise for how difficult that must have been. Perhaps some positive reinforcement will help encourage him to continue this behavior in the future."
Logan didn't even have to finish his sentence before Roman dove for Virgil's wrists. Virgil yanked as hard as he could, but Roman was in a better position and easily managed to pull his arms above his head. Immediately Virgil's fight or flight instincts kicked in, and he was about to start literally kicking (even though his brain was screaming at his body to shut up stop it play dead holy shit they're giving you what you want) before Patton leaned as far over his torso as he could manage, keeping his middle pinned in place.
"Anxiety..." he cooed, actually cooed, and yup Virgil was totally gonna die. "Wanna look at me, sweetheart?"
It took Virgil a second to realize that his eyes were screwed shut in anticipation. He peeked out only to find Patton looking at him with the most soft, loving, mughy-gushy expression Virgil had ever seen, especially directed towards him. It made him feel like he was melting.
"When we play our tickle games," he continued, "we always say 'red' when we need a break. Is that okay for you, too?"
Virgil couldn't even speak, so he gave a jerky nod.
"For safety, we should proceed slowly," Logan said, "in order not to overwhelm him." The way Logan was talking to the others like Virgil wasn't there sent a small thrill down his spine.
"I disagree," Roman replied. "I think our poor, sweet Anxiety has waited much too long already." His upside-down grin made Virgil want to spit curses up at him, except he was pretty sure the only thing that would come out if he opened his mouth were pathetic squeals.
"Where should we begin?" the creative side continued, tracing his thumbs around the soft skin of Virgil's wrist. "His... bright red ears? Or his wiggly hips? Or his bouncy little tummy?"
"Fuck off," Virgil gasped.
Roman clicked his tongue. "Temper! Patton doesn't like swearing!"
"Oh, let him fuss," Patton replied. "This is all very overwhelming for him, it's okay! If I had known you liked tickling too, Anxiety, I would've gladly done it for you a long time ago!"
"I don't--"
Then Virgil gasped, and fell into helpless frantic giggles. In unison Roman and Patton swiveled their heads to look at Logan.
"There's no use in lying now, Anxiety," he said calmly, his fingers flicking and fluttering all over Virgil's soles. "We all know that if you didn't like tickling, you wouldn't let us do this at all. Ergo you must enjoy tickling, more specifically being tickled, otherwise you wouldn't have put yourself in this position in the first place. Does that make sense?"
Virgil couldn't answer, because he was in heaven. Or maybe hell. Logan's fingers were deft and torturous, flitting back and forth faster than Virgil could process. Belatedly he wiggled his feet, trying to hide one behind the other and continuously failing. And damn Logan for real for being so observant, because when he noticed the spot on Virgil's arches that made him kick the hardest, he focused all of his attention there, switching between his feet as fast as he could.
"Wait wait wait, waitwaitwhaihaihaiait!" Virgil couldn't believe the noises that were coming out of his mouth right now. He had never laughed like this around the light sides-- had barely ever laughed at all-- and now they were getting to hear him like this, his giggles embarrassing and dorky and loud--
So loud, in fact, that he barely even heard Logan say, "Patton, would you like a turn?" before ten fingers dove in to vibrate all over his vulnerable, ticklish stomach.
"Nah-ahahahaha!" The shriek that left his lips shocked everyone in the room, and Virgil used the confusion to yank his arms out of Roman's grasp, sitting up and trying to launch off the couch in the same motion. He would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for Patton's meddling arms around his waist.
"Woah!" Patton laughed out. "Easy now, kiddo! Don't wanna waist this chance to get tickled!" On cue he tazed his fingers where they laid in the divots of Virgil's sides, causing the anxious side to jerk and flop like a worm on a string. His hands grappled desperately for Patton's, but he made no progress getting them off before Roman's hand entered his vision.
"Come back here, Gay-Lee Shrilliams!" Roman sang. Blindly, he grappled for Virgil's wrists, grabbing one and yanking him back towards Roman's end of the couch. Virgil was disoriented, and took the time to inhale greedy breaths before he was suddenly flipped around again. Now Logan was sat straddled over his shins, Patton kneeling on the floor beside him, and Roman's chest was pressed against his back with his wrists in each hand.
For a moment there was silence.
"Well," Logan said curtly. "Let's try that again, shall we?"
And immediately his hands were clamped above Virgil's knees, and they were off to the races.
"Ahahahahahahaha!"
"There we are," Logan said, a hint of smugness in his voice as he prodded up and down Virgil's thighs. "We'll have to avoid any further interruptions if we're going to find all of your ticklish spots, Anxiety. Please behave yourself."
"I'm-- you-- nahahaha!" Virgil squealed; Patton had placed his hands on either side of his ribs, and was now squeezing them as if Virgil were a particularly squeaky bagpipe.
"Hold him down!" he called affectionately. "He's a squirmer!"
Virgil gasped through his laughter as the other two followed Patton's instruction; he could feel them rearranging their positions on his arms and legs in order to keep him even more stuck than he already was. Blearily, he turned onto his side as much as possible, facing the back of the couch and weakly attempting to hide his stomach from his ticklers.
"Uh oh, where are you going?" Roman asked, all sugar sweetness. "Is someone trying to hide away? Hm? Big bad Anxiety trying to run away from the tickles?"
Without warning he released one of Virgil's hands, and took it upon himself to use his free hand to investigate all over Virgil's exposed armpit. Virgil spasmed and shrieked. His free hand might as well have not been there at all, considering how absolutely useless it was at protecting his armpit, or his ribs, or--
"Uh oh," Patton cooed, voice sickeningly sweet, and Virgil could only look on in giddy terror as he wiggled his fingers in the air. "Don't think I just forgot about that tummy, Anxiety!"
Just like before, Patton pressed all ten fingers into Virgil's stomach fat, wiggling mercilessly; unlike before, Virgil couldn't shoot himself off the couch with Patton himself kneeling in the way. Logan and Roman had stopped their tickles, but only so they could restrain him even further to avoid another escape attempt.
"Nihihihiehehehehehe!" Virgil didn't even know what he was begging for anymore. For less tickles, or more?
"A ticky-ticky-ticky-ticky-ticky!" Patton sang. "Who's a ticklish goober? Is it Anxiety? I think it is!" He giggled as he easily avoided Virgil's free hand, darting back and forth as it fruitlessly tried to cover his stomach from Patton's wiggling fingers.
Through his teary eyes, Virgil accidentally made eye contact with Roman. He immediately regretted it: both because he saw something akin to actual affection in Princey's eyes (which, gross) but more because he watched that affection slip away to smug mischief.
"Hey, don't be greedy, Padre!" Roman announced. "I want a turn!"
And with that he let go of Virgil's other hand, but the anxious side had no time to do anything about that before he, too, was digging his fingers into Virgil's stomach. Virgil squealed again, arching hid back and curling in on himself over and over in an endless loop. While Patton had no trouble attending to Virgil's tummy pudge, Roman's hands were positioned at the top of his stomach just below his ribs, and he had no issues at all jumping up to pinch and massage along the sensitive bones every few seconds.
"Fascinating," Logan said, and oh god, why did his voice make Virgil feel even more trapped than he already was? "Patton, scoot down a bit. I'd like to try something."
Virgil felt Patton slide his hands slightly up Virgil's torso, still plucking away at his oversensitive nerves like guitar strings.
"Slow down for a moment," Logan instructed, and the others listened, thank God. Virgil took the opportunity to breathe, his eyes screw tightly shut. He couldn't handle seeing Roman's smirk, or Patton's giddiness, or Logan's studying stare.
"I've noticed something in his reactions," the logical side continued. "And I have another hypothesis."
Virgil should've opened his eyes.
If he had, he might've been prepared for when Logan's fingers descended all around his bellybutton and squeezed.
Virgil shrieked. He screamed. He yelled and hollered and wailed and every other synonym he could think of, except he couldn't think at all because Logan was flexing his fingers over and over and over again with terrible, ruthless accuracy. Virgil used all his strength to try to curl up, but with Logan on his hips, Roman behind his back, and Patton in the middle, there was absolutely nothing he could do to protect his tummy from ticklish agony.
"I think we found his favorite spot!" Patton cooed.
Yeah, no fucking shit, Virgil thought wildly. He could barely breathe, his face hurt from smiling, his head was melty with joy, and his innards felt as if he had swallowed a dozen butterflies that continued to dance around inside of him. He felt trapped, and teased, and embarrassed, and desperate, and he--
And he loved it. Oh my God, he loved it. Had he been missing out on this all along?
It took a long, long time before Virgil realized that Logan had stopped. His hands, warm and heavy, laid flat on his stomach, and his palms rubbed firmly against his skin. He blinked his eyes opened-- when had he closed them?-- and realized he was practically lying down again, having slid so much he'd ended up resting his head against Roman's thigh. It took another minute for him to realize that his hand felt strange; looking over, he flushed anew when he saw Patton's large hand wrapped around his own, fingers intertwined. Did Virgil do that?
Reality jolted back into him, and like a bear trap he sprang up and closed in on himself, shrinking away from any touch.
"Um-- I'm done-- red," he stuttered. God, why was he a loser? They had already stopped tickling him, he didn't need to say the safeword-- but his skin still felt alight with nerves, and despite how the whole experience had made him feel, he really didn't think he could handle anymore tonight.
Virgil didn't know why it surprised him that all three of moved back, Logan and Roman scooting to either end of the couch and Patton leaning back on his haunches. It surprised him, but it shouldn't. Because they're them. The light sides, the "others" as he'd always thought of them-- they were nice. Fun. And they cared.
"So..."
And of course, there was Princey to ruin it. Virgil dared to shoot his eyes over and was met with the smuggest goddamn look he's ever seen on Roman's consistently smug face.
"Was it everything you hoped for, sweet Anxiety?" he crowed. Immediately Virgil dropped his face into his hands and groaned.
"Aw, there he goes! Too much sweet talking for such a sourpuss like you?"
Virgil hissed at him, only to hear twin snorts from the other two Sides. He looked up, betrayed.
"Apologies, Anxiety," Logan said, biting his bottom lip as he smiled. Patton was covering his own mouth with both hands. "I can assure you we hold no judgement or mockery for you. It's just that this entire display was... objectively adorable."
"Noooooo..." Virgil whined. He slid down in his seat and covered his face again. His cheeks burned against his palms.
It was only a few seconds before he felt a tap on his knee, and after a moment he lowered his hands enough to peek out beyond his fingers. Patton was there, ducking his head a bit to catch Virgil's eye.
"Was that fun?" he asked gently. A beat. Virgil nodded. "Would you like to do it again?"
Virgil snapped his arms down to his sides and slammed back against his seat. Patton raised his hands placatingly.
"In the future!" he said. "I just mean..."
He looked at the other two Sides before confirming, "Well, I think we all had fun. And we can work out what exactly you're comfortable with later, but... I hope you'd like to do that again sometime."
"Please--" Virgil blurted. "I mean. Yes. I want to. Again."
"Good," Logan said. "Now lay back down."
He looked over, inquisitive, only to flush again as Logan leaned back and patted his lap.
"You can't seriously think I'm gonna fall for that."
"We are not going to tickle you again unless you explicitly ask for it," Logan said (and wow, now Virgil was gonna have to store that away in his anxiety-fantasies, not getting tickled anymore unless he uses his words). "You've just been exerted very quickly in a very short amount of time, you've been anxious and twitchy all day prior to this evening, and even now you're struggling to remain upright."
Virgil blinked; it was true. His head was lolled back against the cushion. His body was tired, it's true, but his mind felt somewhat hazy, somewhat calm. He blinked slowly.
"... Are you gonna put the movie back on?"
Roman scoffed. "Of course we are. We know you need background noise, Sleeping Beauty."
Right. Of course they knew that. Because they knew him, now.
Virgil fidgeted, then nodded. "I'd... I'd like that."
And he did.
157 notes · View notes
clowntiggles · 8 days ago
Text
I'M BACK AND I COME BEARING HEADCANONS
Tumblr media
DOEY MY MAN DOEY THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU
He is a tickle monster first and foremost. He's giant and a shapeshifter, it's practically hardwired into him.
And he's a caretaker, as if he needed any more coding.
Games of tickle monster are very common in the Safe Haven, and he's honed his beastly performance to a fine art. Even the older toys run in (fake) fear. He takes any chance he gets to play monster, it's as much a distraction for him as it is for them (and he likes being little devious).
SO teasy, terrifyingly teasy. When he's not playing monster, he's baby talking you into an early grave or playing innocent, like he's never even HEARD of tickling before and he has NO IDEA why you're laughing so much and he simply MUST investigate this.
Sprinkles puns in there for good measure. What do you mean they're bad -- you're laughing, clearly you find them hilarious!
Of course, even the mightiest beasts have their own weaknesses.
Since he's a shapeshifter who can bend metal beams with ease, it's safe to say tickling him is a challenge. But no matter how many arms he gives himself, he doesn't have eyes in the back of his head, and he can be caught off guard and overwhelmed as much as anyone else.
Ticklish basically everywhere, mostly because his torso is 90% of his body. He doesn't really react much to light touches, but kneading and other such things have him cackling in no time.
It only takes a few rounds of tickle monster for the others in Safe Haven to develop a taste for vengeance. At the end of the day, it doesn't take much planning or coordination to go "everyone get his ass".
It's one of the few situations where his strength is actively detrimental. He can't risk hurting the 30-odd kids and teens viciously attacking him, so he has to stay as still as possible while being tickled half to death.
His immediate reaction is to curl up like a pill bug and tuck all his limbs in, both to protect himself (it doesn't work) and to protect whoever's tickling him from potentially dangerous flailing (this part works, fortunately). However, if he doesn't get his nervous energy out somehow he'll simply explode, so all of it goes to his legs, disrupting his protection ball. His habit of kicking and stomping can betray his ticklishness before something even tickles enough to make him laugh.
His laugh is the silliest collection of sounds ever. It changes cadence wildly the way his regular voice does, oscillating from loopy giggles to belly laughs to rough barks, and unlike his voice he has no control where it chooses to go.
DOES NOT SHUT UP; any time he can talk though his laughter he will be talking, even if all he can get out are muddled words and scraps of sentences. Yet oddly enough he never tells whoever tickles him to stop huh that's so weird I wonder why that is.
Whenever someone tickles him he kind of HAS to let them do it for their own safety, but aside from that little concern he genuinely enjoys it. Protecting the Safe Haven (and being basically the only adult figure in the area) is a stressful, exhausting job. Seeing the kids happy lets him know that his efforts are worth it, and being able to laugh so freely takes his mind off of things, even if only for a few moments.
Final note, does stuff going through his body tickle? Yes and no. It mostly doesn't. Both inside and outside have pretty much the same level of tactile perception because it's all the same material, so when something goes through him he can feel it like he were touching it "normally", and it's generally not a ticklish feeling the way most things you touch aren't ticklish. But because it's the same amount of feeling, it CAN be ticklish.
Stuff inside his body can't move very freely due to the pressure of being surrounded by several hundred pounds of playdough, so it generally isn't enough to make him laugh, but it can be enough to make him squirm and kick and his voice wobble.
The scenario I'm imagining is that the player tries to grab him with he grabpack, only for him to grab it right back by letting the hand sink into his torso. He intends to hold onto it while giving them a scolding about how we do NOT use our grabpack on others, but the player constantly tugging on the cord and making the hand move quickly begins to take the bite out of his voice, much to his chagrin.
137 notes · View notes