#squealing santa 2k22

[rosileeduckie]

Tickled to Death

Pact of punishment level: maxed. Time face the scariest enemy you didn’t know lived in hell: your own boyfriend. 

Zagreus “helps” Thanatos get out from between a rock and a hard place. For @vqler, who GOD I’m so sorry I’m late but I hope you like me petrifying and obliterating Thanatos for you in the name of Christmas ❤ Much love to you, much love and thanks to @hypahticklish for hosting this year’s @squealing-santa. Kudos and love to everyone who posted for the event this year, happy holidays, and happy new year!

SFW. Potential warnings: just “returning to writing” writing lol. Hades: Zagreus/Thanatos tickle fic.

Word count: 3,075

~*~

Zagreus had attempted enough escapes from the underworld to know, upon even entering a chamber, when something was immediately off. He daresay he was experienced by this point; there were things he’d come to expect. Hordes of enemies, unleashed with love from his father? Certainly. The unavoidable spiting of and smiting from god-cousins for the favor of other ones? Often. Blood, death, and darkness? Absolutely. What he found waiting for him upon crossing from his most recent ferry to the nearest Asphodelian dock was, in a total understatement, wildly unexpected. 

Save for the familiar sound of bubbling, hissing lava and distant magma falls, the chamber was quiet. Zagreus entered as he always did, light on his burning feet and weapon unsheathed, ready to dodge or strike at a moment’s notice. He needn’t have, though, as he soon realized the chamber was befuddlingly empty. Sure, he’d encountered chambers with no enemies in them, either at first glance because they had just yet to spawn or at all because their presence was dissuaded by some form of boon or blessing. But the chamber he currently found himself in had no healing pool, no shop, and no allies, let alone enemies. It was just plain empty.

So busy with examining the room for some sort of clever trap, Zagreus didn’t even notice the obvious obstacle until he fully tripped over it, sprawling onto the rock with his weapon—Stygius, this time—clattering a couple of feet away. Zagreus looked back to see what had caused him to stumble, and his brow furrowed deeper in confusion. A scythe, large and dramatic and adorned with gold and a piercing purple eye lay abandoned on the rock, its usual wielder, the physically and emotively grey demigod that Zagreus had the biggest soft spot for, was nowhere to be seen. Or was he?

Zagreus turned his head, looking from Thanatos’ weapon to his own. A couple of feet away. His gaze lifted slowly upward. The grey and currently half-rocky skin had blended quite well into the environment like a natural stalagmite, and it wasn’t until he was actually looking for it that Zagreus could see that Thanatos was there, and likely not going anywhere any time soon. 

The prince rose, grabbed and sheathed his sword as he rounded the Thanatos-shaped pillar until he faced the front. Zagreus had been grinning already upon realizing what he’d stumbled upon, but that grin grew all the bigger and brighter when he saw the normally brooding Thanatos looking flustered and positively grumpy.

“Don’t—” Thanatos said, sighing in defeat when Zagreus snorted and burst into bright laughter that he tried and failed to hide behind his hand. “Don’t laugh.”

"I'm sorry, but can you blame me?" Zagreus said, nearly falling into another fit of giggling when he rapped a knuckle lightly against Thanatos' chest and the action produced a satisfying thunk. "What happened?" He asked, but it was fairly obvious: petrification. Gorgons were aplenty in Asphodel, and none of them so friendly as Dusa. Most of Thanatos' body was still affected by the curse, frozen in place and turned a stony stormy grey. By the looks of it and the fact that he could talk, the petrification was naturally draining from Thanatos' form from the top first, leaving the rest of him to wait out the "thawing" process in the stiff and stiffness-inducing position of both arms partially raised as those blocking with his scythe, and both feet floating their usual few inches from the ground.

"I was waiting for your slow ass," Thanatos grumbled, drawing the prince to close his cursory examination with a snort. "Expected for us to have one of our contests, but a gorgon caught me from behind. You'd be standing in her remains, if I hadn't vaporized her."

"Remind me to stay off your bad side." 

"“Stay off.”"

“Shut up.” Zagreus walked a slow circle around Thanatos. He cast his gaze outward, studying the chamber without the blinders of adrenaline and stress that tended to make things look fuzzy. He knew Thanatos was powerful, but—blood and darkness—he’d probably obliterated every shade within the next three chambers, let alone their current one. It was just a guess, but, with how thoroughly every trap had been tripped and every structural fault had been compromised simultaneously, as though from a massive blast, Zagreus was fairly certain that A. he and Thanatos were better than safe from shades for the time being, and B. even caught off guard, Thanatos did nothing at half-intensity. Drama queen. “So how long have you been like this?”

Thanatos grunted, straining to look over his shoulder at Zagreus when the prince moved fully behind him. “I don’t know. I didn’t count, as I was counting on you to be quick. Thanks for picking this one time to be the one where you drag your feet.”

Zagreus didn’t respond to the jab with more than a thoughtful hum. He was too busy watching the petrification dissipate, the cold stone color receding like a lava wave at low tide at a slavug’s pace. Ugh. 

“I don’t know how long I’ve been like this, and I have no idea how long I’ll be like this, since I usually have you to cover me.”

“It’s pretty quick, from the hits I’ve taken.” Of course, Zagreus realized upon thinking it over, he was often petrified while surrounded by enemies, and the threat of being sent back down the Styx made him struggle against the enchantment with all his might. Maybe it was supposed to last a long time; he’d just be thin on patience and break himself out. “Helps if you wiggle.”

Thanatos scoffed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “You are an amazing help.”

“Well, what do you suggest I—?”

“Just—” Thanatos huffed, neck and shoulders visibly straining where he tried to move them, move anything, “just keep watch to make sure nothing respawns. I didn’t even want you seeing me like this, let alone your father’s subjects.”

“Any shade would think they’ve gone mad with the heat before they accepted seeing you like this as real. Or they’d be laughed out of the House for such a ridiculous and unbelievable tale, you know that. But fine,” Zagreus replied with a yawn and set himself on a little guarding route around Thanatos, keeping an eye trained outward for ominous growling, keeping an ear pointed toward Thanatos to listen to his comical grunts and breathy swears of efforts, and letting his mind drift elsewhere.

When Zagreus found himself petrified on his escape attempts, a quick shake and healthy dose of stubbornness was all it took for him to bash his way to freedom and back to slashing shades to dust. There had been one time, though, when he’d found himself without monsters to slay beside the shade who’d landed a hit and then lazily floated away and straight into a fountain of lava. (Zagreus could understand enjoying a hot bath, but yikes…) With no adversaries, Zagreus had lacked his usual incentive to escape as quickly as possible. It was odd, to stop moving so thoroughly, without being able to so much as jiggle his leg or tap his fingers or click his tongue. His companion on-call at that time had been Dusa, and he couldn't think of anyone better to offer advice as to getting un-petrified than her. Luckily, the little gifted doll he kept like a keychain on his weapon didn't need to be physically or verbally invoked—that would make summoning under the onslaught of a dozen rakers or one very maltempered ROUS even more difficult—so he pictured the soft snakey toy, reached out with his mind, and called for his companion. In a flash, Dusa appeared, all smiles and polite shyness and readiness to stone and slaughter any foe that challenged the prince. Of course, there were none, but Zagreus' head had gotten enough feeling back to explain the situation to Dusa. Her advice was the same Zagreus had given to Thanatos in the present: wiggle around a bit. And she had, so helpfully, provided a new incentive via her trusty feather duster.

Recalling the event made Zagreus—well, first he flushed to the roots of his charcoal hair, and he was glad he'd come to stand behind Thanatos at that moment, and then—grin, delighted and devilish. "Actually…"

"What?" Thanatos tried to look over his shoulder at Zagreus once more, and found only the slightest more yield in his stone-struck muscles. He could almost touch his chin to his shoulder. 

Zagreus side-stepped accommodatingly to face his captive companion. "Funny thing is, Than, you're not rock. You can feel just fine." He gave another demonstrative flick to Thanatos' shoulder. "It's a bitch when you're being bombarded with enemy attacks. But it might help you break free. If I just—"

It had been a tactical move for Zagreus to move around to Thanatos’ front. For one, it allowed him easy access to scribble his fingers under death incarnate’s arms unimpeded. For another, it meant he got to see Thanatos’ face morph from dismay to betrayal to amusement (however helped along and hysteric).

“Zagreus!” cried Thanatos, the sound colored with a splash of helpless laughter. Truly, it was funny how his technically perfect defensive position, when without his intimidating weapon, left him totally vulnerable to a little tickling. (Well. A lot of tickling. Zagreus was usually on the other end of these fights, and he had already decided he was not letting such a golden fleece of opportunity go by.)

"Yes, Than dear?" Zagreus teased, smile growing wide enough as his victim's when he saw the way Thanatos' cheeks began to burn violet. It took the strength of Sisyphus, but Zagreus looked away from Thanatos’ face, looking instead at his chest and trailing the progress of the curse. Still slow, but with a bit more stuttering speed. The stony color had dissipated all the way down to about his collarbone, leaving the topmost part of his collar golden and shining once more. “No need to thank me. I can already see the curse is lifting faster. You keep wriggling, I’ll keep helping, and you’ll be out in no time!”

A whine that slipped seamlessly into a squeal punctuated Thanatos’ chortling. “But—!”

The dual-eyed demigod slowed his attack, keeping his fingers and just a featherlight flutter in Thanatos’ armpits. It was far from rare for the pair to engage in all-out tickle wars that could border on brutal, but this may have been a bit much. Zagreus didn’t want to overwhelm Thanatos. He waited for even the slightest inkling of dissent.

Thanatos ducked his head, panting and giggling and bumping his forehead gently against Zagreus’. “If someone sees…” It was a thin excuse, between euphoric lips and yellow eyes burning with excitement, and Thanatos knew it. 

Zagreus definitely knew it, holding Thanatos’ jaw in his hands to pull him in for a kiss that ended when the prince chuckled, low and wicked and delighted. “Darling, with how you smote those shades, we won’t be interrupted for awhile, I’m sure.” Thanatos’ eyes scrunched shut, and he bit his lip valiantly against a renewed fit of giggling when Zagreus’ hands migrated gently down his neck and back to his underarms. “No one but me to relish your screams.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Thanatos teased, teeth gritted in a grin.

Able to bear stillness not a second longer, Zagreus set his fingers dancing once again, spidering viciously beneath Thanatos’ arms. Poor death threw his head back as the villainous onslaught sent laughter bursting from his lungs to echo through the lava chamber. His shoulder muscles strained against stone, but, try as he might, he couldn’t lower his arms at all. Not the tiniest inch, not the slightest bit of reprieve. Zagreus grinned. It was spectacular. 

In self-preservation, Zagreus had tipped his head back from his and Than’s intimate moment seconds before going back to full tickle monster mode, which had been smart with how determined Thanatos was to thrash even with just his head. A minute or two of torture later, Zagreus saw another inevitable point of danger. The curse was ebbing; soon Thanatos was free to his shoulders, and that gave him only the ability to laugh enough for them to shake. As soon as his pectorals were free, Thanatos was going to have means, however clumsy, to fight back. With a sigh lamenting the end of a helpless Thanatos, Zagreus took one last adoring gaze at that tickled-mad, wide-grinning, ecstasy-dizzy face, and he ducked.

A deadweight hand swung over his head, and Zagreus sent one of few thanks to his father for increased difficulty in his pact of punishment. It might have been small, but his instincts were good enough now to avoid what would have been an impressive black eye. Blacker eye. Still, stone-from-the-chest-down was not the way Zagreus preferred his partners, so he couldn’t rest yet. Thanatos was flailing his arms with all his might, but he still couldn’t bend over, so Zagreus was relatively safe lounging against Thanatos’ knee. Reaching as high as he dared, Zagreus gave a few quick and indiscriminate tickles—resulting in beautiful answering shrieks—and latched onto Thanatos’ hips. Instead of pinching, Zagreus held on for dear life and dug into the fabric beneath Thanatos’ belt, burrowing into and scratching the soft sensitive spots that had the potential to make Thanatos purr but were currently making him wail like the damned. 

The longer Thanatos suffered under Zagreus’ malicious mischief, the quicker the curse faded. Zagreus’ wiggling fingers seemed to be fleeing from it as they squeezed down Thanatos’ thighs, skittered behind his knees, and eventually dashed to his soles. Thanatos was fully able to buck now, body all but back to his control. Had Zagreus not laid down on the rocky ground, he likely would have been throttled. As it was, he was still out of reach, grinning up at Thanatos and receiving an exhausted but elated smile in return. There was even almost a flash of fear in death’s eyes when Thanatos realized what Zagreus had planned for the finale of their first—and hopefully not last—curse-breaking session. 

“Don’t worry, Than. This spot ALWAYS makes you dance. If it doesn’t free you, nothing will.” Zagreus was positively beaming up at Thanatos, facing no defense in the form of scrunching toes or kicking feet his usually did even threatening to tickle this spot, and certainly not deterred by the pitiful attempt at a glare the smiley and slumped over Thanatos shot at him. 

Any shade that had even thought about reforming within a mile of them had probably changed their mind and stayed dead a few more minutes upon hearing the howl death let out when two fingers were traced delicately under his toes. Never mind the subsequent guffawing screams he uttered when Zagreus raked five fingers back and forth beneath them while his other hand devastated Thanatos’ soles with some evil scribbling that he could only imagine tickled like hell. Those sounds, even if it did make Zagreus wince and almost want to cover his ears, and the blazing, amazing, unabashed smile that accompanied it was better than any boon the gods could give him. Maybe it was a little devil in him talking, but it was simply divine to see his lover so undone and hysterical, so free even when immobilized, so happy and for only Zagreus to see. He wouldn’t mind staying there, basking in Thanatos’ warm and hysterical glow, for a few dozen winters.

His wish was not granted. He barely got a dozen seconds before Thanatos finally shook free from the petrification, yanking his feet away from Zagreus’ hands and subsequently upending himself, laughter having sapped his strength to the point where he couldn’t even float, collapsing on top of Zagreus’ chest and leaving them both wheezing. 

Once he’d gotten back the wind that had been knocked out of him, Zagreus chuckled, wrapping his arms around Thanatos and holding him close, rubbing smooth and soothing circles into the soft warm skin of his shoulder. So gentle and loving was the attention and little kisses he showered Thanatos with that his next words were a jarring dissonance.

“You know, it usually only takes me a few seconds to break free from a gorgon hit when I really want to,” said Zagreus, and he hummed smugly when he felt Thanatos’ face grow warm where it was suddenly buried in the prince’s neck. “Can’t help but wonder if, maybe, you just didn’t want to escape that badly.” He pressed a grinning kiss to Thanatos’ burning forehead. “Eh, Thana-toes?”

Just as suddenly as he’d been pinned to the floor under Thanatos, Zagreus found himself pinned to the floor, arms raised and locked in the grip of a vengeful death, whose amber eyes were absolutely alight with promise and payback, and smoldering more softly with fondness that could not be more obvious when he rolled them. “I will give you three conditions to escape a slow and very merciless end, after which I will personally drag you back down the Styx and deliver just as merciless a wake-up call.”

Zagreus gulped, his grin growing wobbly and his stomach already tickled by a swarm of prickling nerves and butterflies. “And those would be?”

“One,” said Thanatos, summoning a ghostly indigo shackle to bind Zagreus’ left wrist. “Please don’t tell anyone about this that I work with. I’d like to keep some professional dignity. Two.” Another shackled encircled Zagreus’ right wrist. “Don’t you dare call me that ever again.” 

Zagreus couldn’t help but smile proudly at the purple flush that touched Thanatos’ cheeks at that, albeit his smile swiftly turned giggly and giddy as those two shackles pulled his arms taut. 

“Three.” Thanatos leaned in just to nuzzle Zagreus’ ear and scoff lowly when he tried to scrunch up his shoulders. The wickedly sharp tips of Thanatos’ iron gauntlets grazed gently along Zagreus’ highest ribs, making him jolt and bite down on a yelp, grin already hopelessly wide and nerves tingling in anticipation. Zagreus was sure he lost what color he had, most of it roaring to flush and flicker in his hair and ears, and surer that he’d be cursing Thanatos next time, when the latter bowed close to whisper the final condition.

“Don’t laugh.”

[ragewerthers]

A Man, A Menace And A Massage

Summary: After a tough day of training Megumi is feeling a little worse for wear, but perhaps his caring and doting boyfriend can help make him feel just a little bit better?

Or... he can be an absolute menace.

A/n: Merry Belated Squealing Santa @lovelynim! :D I'm your stand in Squealing Santa writer and I hope that you enjoy this fic! You gave me so many fantastic prompts for sweet Itadori and Megumi that I decided that I was going to use them all! The prompts were:

1) Oh? You are ticklish here? You mean right *here*?

2) A "massage", but the lee can't stop giggling and the ler wonders why

3) Ah, your feet/arms got stuck? Let me "help" you

4) You. Ten seconds to run. Now.

5) "Tickle monster? What nonsense are you talking about? I hope that the year has been treating you well and I hope that you enjoy the shenanigans I wrote for these two! And thank you again to @hypahticklish for hosting this years event! You've done an amazing job and I appreciate all the hard work you put into it! :D

Word Count: 2708

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

Did Gojo Sensei really have to go that hard?

No.

Well… yes… but also no.  But that was beside the point!

Itadori’s precious boyfriend was suffering!  He was in pain!  He was only hanging on by a thread to this mortal coil! “Oi, Itadori… stop looking at me like that.  It’s just a pulled muscle in my shoulder,” Megumi cut in through the haze of Yuji’s thoughts as he literally saw his pink haired menace staring at him like he was getting ready to take his last breath.

“But you said you’re hurt!  You never say you’re in pain!” Itadori interjected from his spot on the opposite end of the sofa.  A place he had been banished to after attempting to feed Megumi his dinner.  Which would’ve been all well and good had it not been hot ramen.

A man can only get slapped in the face with boiling noodles so many times before he has to choose his safety over severe third degree burns.

“I said that I was ‘sore’, Yuji.  It’s a common occurrence when your teacher is a… well… a Gojo,” Megumi said with a little shake of his head, instantly regretting the movement as he tensed and let out a little growl of pain.

Itadori was instantly by his side, completely disregarding the cushion barrier Megumi had erected after the ramen incident.

“Fushiguro?!  Are you okay?!  Do you need water?  A doctor?  Should I call an ambulan-mmpfth!”

The cushion of his fallen wall helped Megumi to quell Itadori’s spiral into madness as he quickly pressed it to his boyfriend's face.

“Yuji… I’m going to remove this pillow and when I do, I want you to be calm, cool and collected for me, okay?  I’m fine.  It’s a muscle that’s just being difficult.  A hot shower, a little rest and I’ll be good as new.  Okay… the pillows dropping in 3…2…1…..” 

Slowly, Megumi lowered the pillow and instantly regretted it as he was met with the saddest puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen.

“No.  No, Yuji, not the look.  You know that’s unfair,” Megumi tried to dissuade as he watched the intensity of the stare grow.

“I just want to make sure you’re really alright, Fushiguro.  Please?  Is there anything I can do?  I don’t like knowing you’re in pain and that there’s something I could be doing but you’re not letting me.”

Megumi could already feel the flush starting to climb up his neck and reach his ears as he listened to the absolutely sincere concern in his boyfriend’s voice.

What was worse is that he knew that Itadori was well aware that he was on the precipice of cracking.

“Come on, Fushiguro… let me help you?”

Damn Itadori and his sweetness!  For a man literally turned into a vessel for pure evil, how was Itadori just so… good?

With a deep sigh, Megumi knew that he had no choice but to accept some help.  Maybe this could actually be beneficial?

“Okay.  But!” he said quickly as he saw the bright grin instantly return to Itadori’s face and watched his boyfriend's energy level spike up to 100.  “No more feeding me, no babying me and please, no more treating me like you’re about to light some incense for me.  Got it?”

Itadori quickly nodded at all the conditions and stood up, offering his hand to his boyfriend.

Quirking an eyebrow, the dark haired sorcerer carefully took the offered help as he stood from the couch  “I can see the wheels turning, Itadori.  What are you planning?” he asked carefully, earning himself a chuckle in return.

“I was thinking about it and I know what I could do to help you.  It would allow me to stay close and look after you without coddling you,” he said as he began to lead them toward Fushiguro’s bedroom.  “I think a nice massage would be just the ticket for getting your muscles to start to relax.  Many athletes find that it's nice to get one after a heavy workout.”

“Or if your Sensei has handed your ass to you over… and over… and over again,” Megumi mumbled, though a small smile was already lifting up the corners of his lips as he followed Itadori.

This might not be so bad.

—------------

Oh god… it was so bad.

Megumi could feel his sanity slowly slipping away as he lay there on his bed, his arms cradled under a pillow so he could rest his head comfortably while Itadori sat carefully on his thighs..

Now all of those were well and good and to be perfectly honest, the massage had started out amazing!

Itadori had made sure that Megumi was comfortably settled on his stomach, that he had all the pillows he needed, that he didn’t feel too much pressure as Itadori settled on him.

Then the massage itself started and oh…  

Itadori’s hands were careful and precise.  Soothing along the planes of his shoulder blades, finding knots and working them out.  Letting his fingers massage along his spine  and down to his lower back where he hadn’t realized he’d also been feeling some soreness.

All in all, the first ten minutes had been so utterly pleasant that Megumi wondered why he hadn’t asked Yuji to do this sooner.

But then, Itadori’s fingers had strayed a little too close to his sides, right where his lower ribs were, and Megumi had flinched.

And sweet Itadori.  He thought it was an area that needed extra attention.

“Oh!  Fushiguro!  This must be when Gojo Sensei sent you into the bushes!  Here… take a few deep breaths and I’ll get those aches worked out!”

Now here Megumi lay, trying with all of his will power not to make a sound or a movement that would let Itadori on to a very well kept secret.

Megumi Fushigoru was ticklish.

Every pass of Itadori’s fingers along his lower ribs only made Megumi tense more, his face buried into his pillow as he fought the far too embarrassing sounds attempting to escape him.

“Megumi, you are really tense here!  This isn’t even as bad as your shoulder was!” Itadori said lightly, as he let his thumbs begin to rub what he thought were soothing circles into the backs of Megumi’s ribs.

What Itadori was really doing was creating a new level of torture unknown by mankind until this point in history!

“You’ve also gone really quiet, Megumi,” Itadori asked, an extra little squeeze to his sides making the sorcerer flinch again as a slightly high pitched whine escaped him.  “Was that a good squeak or a bad squeak?”

Megumi shook his head, knowing that if he answered there would be no back tracking and saving himself.

“Well,” Itadori mused, sounding slightly confused as he let his fingers settle somewhere near Megumi’s hips for the moment.  “I’m gonna assume that things are still okay since you haven’t bucked me off yet.  But I think you’re really starting to loosen up now!  You don’t feel so tense!  And I think I know why.”

Megumi had taken the small reprieve to try and rebuild his iron will like he had tried to build his cushion pillow wall earlier.  “W-Why do you think that is, Yuji?” he asked, his voice still slightly unsteady to his own ears, but hopefully it was something Yuji wouldn’t pick up on.

“Because I think I’ve found the spot that holds all your tension and once we work it out you’ll feel good as new!” Yuji said, sounding proud and excited all at once.  “It’s right here!”

Without any warning, Yuji’s hands moved up and gave a few quick squeezes against Megumi’s lower ribs.

Three things happened in an instant.

First… Megumi’s poor body, completely unprepared for the sensation, instantly flailed as a wild cackle escaped him.  His iron will completely collapsing, much like his pillow wall had.

Second… Itadori’s hands ceased their movement and quickly moved from where they had momentarily been resting against the warm skin of his boyfriend's sides.

And third… the room fell into an almost deafening silence as both parties attempted to process what had just happened.

“..... OH!” Itadori’s shout of recognition startled poor Megumi as he already began attempting to shimmy his way out from under the man, trying to dislodge his arms from under the pillow.

“No!  Itadori!  Don’t you da-AHARE!” Megumi instantly collapsed back onto the bed as he felt ten evil fingers scribbling up his sides and over his ribs, drawing out ridiculous giggles that he had been fighting for far too long.

“So this is why you’ve been so tense and quiet throughout the whole massage!” Yuji laughed, gently testing out different spots now that he had connected all the dots.

“St-Stahahahap!  I cahan’t hehelp that I-I’m tihihi….. tihihic…. AH!  S-Sensitihihihihiive there!” Fushiguro squeaked out, his cheeks already blushing as he attempted and failed to say that terrible word.

Facing curses was a piece of cake.

Saying the word ‘tickle���?  Now that was a true challenge.

Sadly for Megumi, this seemed to be a little extra fuel to add to the fire that had taken hold of his mischievous boyfriend.

“Oh? You’re ticklish here? You mean right here?” Yuji cooed, his fingers now vibrating against Megumi’s upper ribs where they had slowly been migrating to.  He’d managed to slither his way down from sitting on Fushiguro’s legs to easily laying on him, allowing him to keep his boyfriend in place as he continued to explore his vulnerable sides.

The ticklish touch made Megumi snort loudly as ridiculous laughter instantly escaped him, his arms trying to come down where they were currently trapped under his pillow no thanks to Yuji’s past kindness of wanting to make him comfortable and his new evilness at trapping him between the bed and his body.

“Yehehehehes! I’m tihih…. tiihihicklish there y-you bahahahastard!” Megumi cried out through his laughter, the quick vibrations against his upper ribs sending electric ticklish jolts racing through his body.

Yuji chuckled at the sweet noise, basking in the sounds of his boyfriend laughing so freely and openly in a way he never thought he’d get to see.  “Awww, no need for such words, Fushiguro!  Look at how happy this is making you!  And look at that blush!” Yuji cooed against Megumi’s quickly reddening ears, making the poor man shiver and try to bat the other man’s face away. Unfortunately this was only a reminder of his poor arms being pinned out in front of him under his own pillow and his terrible boyfriend.

It was also a reminder to Itadori that he was going to be able to tease his sweet boyfriend for just a little bit longer without fear of being batted away.

“Ah, your arms got stuck? Let me help you then, Megumi,” Yuji said softly, letting his fingers lightly scribble upwards till they were just nestled under Megumi’s armpits. 

Megumi instantly jolted at the soft touch to what he knew was his worst spot, his head shaking back and forth as frantic giggles bubbled up out of his chest and his legs kicked out frantically behind him.

“D-Don’t you dahahahare, Itadori!  I swehehehar you’ll regrehehehet this!” he warned, though he knew that his threats were falling on deaf ears as he heard the man hum above him.  Then he felt an exploratory little flutter of Yuji’s fingertips against his death spot and he snorted as he tried and failed to bring his arms down once more.

“Hmm… I think this might be where you’re stuck?  Let me see if I can’t untangle you,” Itadori teased before instantly beginning to spider all over the completely vulnerable area, only just staying in place as Megumi squirmed wildly before falling into the most hysterical laughter yet.

“OH GAHAHAHAD!  NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!” Megumi cried out, his poor armpits absolutely defenseless against the ridiculous tickling of his boyfriend.  He tried to rock side to side to dislodge his menace, but Itadori stayed put, applying more pressure in the center of his armpits or right under the hollows near his upper ribs, always keeping the other sorcerer guessing and driving Megumi crazy with laughter. “What?  What was that, Megumi?” Itadori giggled, a bright smile on his face as he began to massage deep circles into the middle of Fushiguro’s armpits, making the man buck and snort like some sort of rodeo animal underneath him.

“TIHIHIHIHICKLES!” Megumi cackled, tears of mirth in his eyes as more laughter exploded out of him and leaving him unable to make a sentence any more succinct than that.  “YAHAHOU MAHAHAHAONSTER!”

"Huh?  What did you say?  Tickle monster? What nonsense are you talking about?" Itadori teased, unable to help using that word again and blowing a light raspberry against the side of Megumi’s neck, drawing out what could only be described as the world's most adorable squeal.

And with that noise now permanently etched in Itadori’s heart and memory he fell into his own heavy laughter, his fingers stopping their relentless attack as he rolled off his boyfriend to lay beside him.

As soon as he felt the weight of his boyfriend off of him and those evil, evil hands away from his worst spot, Megumi quickly pulled his arms down, curling in on himself as residual giggles continued to escape him and his tears of laughter still clung to his eyelashes.

The worst part of it all was that even though this had been a completely and utterly uncalled for attack… Megumi could honestly say he felt looser and more relaxed than he had in a long time.

Glancing over at his boyfriend, he could see that Itadori was still caught up in his own laughter at having gotten Megumi to make such a ridiculous noise thanks to something as simple as a raspberry.

Shaking his head as he continued to catch his breath, Megumi reached over and nudged the other man's shoulder, trying not to laugh along with Yuji’s infectious giggling.

“Oi!  It wasn’t that funny you monster!” he tried to chide, but that only seemed to urge on Itadori’s laughing fit.

“Ohoho my gahahad, Megumihihi!” Itadori cackled, covering his mouth as he laughed at the memory of that sweet sound still replaying in his head.  “Thahahat…. wahahas so c-cute!”

Megumi was now blushing for a whole other reason and rolled his eyes fondly.  “Well I hope you enjoyed yourself because that is the last time you are ever giving me a massage or catching me off guard like that again,” he warned playfully, watching as Yuji slowly began to calm down.

“Awww!  Don’t be like that, Megumi-kun!  You have the most wonderful laugh and it would be a shame never to hear it again!” Itadori cooed, making Megumi blush at his words though the smile still remained on his lips.

“I swear, you are without a doubt an absolute menace and I hope you know that I will be getting my revenge, Itadori,” Megumi warned, a playfully evil smile slowly emerging as he watched Yuji shift a little nervously.

“B-But… but I was just helping!  Besides… I’m… I’m not ticklish.”

“Oh?”

“Really!  It wouldn’t be worth trying!  Besides… what about your arm?  Aren’t you still sore?”

As they spoke, Megumi had already started to shift closer as Itadori tried to carefully inch his way back and off the bed.

But never let it be said that Megumi isn’t a man who plays fair.

“You. Ten seconds to run. Now.”

Itadori was off the mattress in a flash, the sound of his footsteps already sounding like a distant echo as Megumi sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

The smile that still remained on Megumi’s face was all the proof he needed that Itadori’s actions had honestly been as beneficial to him as he had thought, though he hadn’t quite anticipated how he would achieve it.

Standing up, he rolled his neck, feeling the stiffness all but gone from his muscles.

And now that he felt so invigorated, it was definitely time to give Itadori a taste of his own medicine.

“TEN!  Here I come, you menace!” he called out, racing out of his room to give chase to his ridiculous, wonderful, kind-hearted mischievous tickle monster of a boyfriend.

[ticklygiggles]

The most ticklish person in the world | TsukiYama

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, @hexalianrebel-blackfeathers!! 🎄🎁☃️ I am your provisional @squealing-santa this year~ I hope you enjoy this fic and I hope this is at least a biiit of what you wanted! I wish you a wonderful night, (whether you celebrate Christmas or don't!)!

Also thanks to the amazing @hypahticklish for hosting the event this year! You're so cool and you work so hard! I wish a Merry Christmas to you too~!

Prompt: Tsukishima “accidentally” lets it slip to the entire team that Yamaguchi is probably the most ticklish person alive.

Once again, laughter ringed through the whole gym as Nishinoya and Tanaka tickled the youngest of the team to death. Even that pesky ball of orange energy was joining in on the fun, wiggling and squeezing his fingers over the victim's knees, making sure to avoid a kick to the face or any other part of the body.

"I sahahaid stahahap!"

Even though it was fun to see the King writhing on the ground and laughing like a ridiculous child, Tsukishima simply couldn't tear his eyes away from Yamaguchi's face.

If Tsukishima didn't know him better than the palm of his hand, he wouldn't had known if those praying eyes were because he wanted to join in or because he wanted to be in Kageyama's place, but then again, he knew Yamaguchi better than anyone and knew that he would really like to be in Kageyama's place right about now.

That was a secret that Yamaguchi hadn't even confessed to Tsukishima yet, but Tsukishima, being the observant person that he was, (it wasn't like Tadashi was very discreet, either), had noticed since they were very young that Yamaguchi, instead of trying to escape the annoying sensation of fingers touching his torso, wanting to make him laugh wildly, he leaned his body towards the sensation. Laughing happily, as if he was having the most fun ever.

His hands, uncoordinated because you just can't think straight when you're laughing your head off and your nervous system is overwhelmed, didn't even try to fight back, they just clinged to the person's wrists attacking him.

Besides, Tsukishima was one hundred percent sure that he had never heard Yamaguchi ask him (or anyone tickling him) to stop, in fact, usually he didn't even speak, he just threw his head back as he laughed and laughed and laughed.

So there was no doubt in Tsukishima's mind that Yamaguchi liked being tickled and Tsukishima didn't judge him for it, actually he thought it was really cute, though, he knew Yamaguchi would be embarrassed if Tsukishima ever mentioned that he knew his little secret.

He chuckled, sending another glance to Yamaguchi's gleaming eyes. He really couldn't be more obvious, could he? And yet, their stupid teammates just didn't notice how hard he wanted it.

Tsukishima really had to do the hard work all the time, huh?

Nishinoya, Tanaka and Hinata didn't stop until Kageyama was in hysterics as they destroyed the setter's hips, (Yamaguchi shuddering and squirming adorably), Daichi-san had to stop them with his own hands to let the poor kid breathe.

Laughing to themselves, they all sat against the wall together with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi; Yamaguchi jumped a little when Nishinoya leaned too close to him, a playful smile on his lips.

"You should join us next time, Yamaguchi!"

"E-Eh?! Ack!" He yelped when Nishinoya hit his back rather hard.

"Right, Ryuu?"

Tanaka laughed, scooting closer to Yamaguchi and also hitting him on the back with a bit too much force, making him cry in pain as Tsukishima frowned, fighting the urge to hit Tanaka in the head.

"Damn right! Tickling Kageyama is so much fun," he said and Kageyama, sitting beside Tsukishima with his face still red, huffed, crossing his arms and looking away. "I think he's the most ticklish person I know!"

"Wrong!" Nishinoya pipped in, slapping his own knee. "He is the most ticklish person ever!"

Not only Kageyama was embarrassed to the core in that moment, Tsukishima noticed, with much amusement that Yamaguchi, perhaps hearing that word jumping from side to side, was blushing to the tips of his ears, squirming slightly as he tried to keep a straight face.

Adorable.

"You both are wrong," Tsukishima suddenly said, making Noya, Tanaka and even Yamaguchi look up at him curiously. Tsukishima smirked, "I do know someone who's way more ticklish than the King himself."

"Oi!"

"What?!" Noya laughed. "First of all, do you know more people besides us?!"

Tanaka also laughed, squeezing Tsukishima's shoulder. "Noya is right! Who could you possibly know that-

It suddenly hit every person that was listening to their conversation, (that honestly could be the whole gym for how loud Tanaka and Nishinoya talked), and everyone turned their heads towards Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi jumped, his face turning as red as a tomato as he looked between Tanaka and Nishinoya and then to Tsukishima, who was smirking and shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, I wonder who could it be..."

"Yamaguchi," Nishinoya said and Yamaguchi squeaked, looking at him. "Are you, perhaps, ticklish?"

Yamaguchi shook his head, "N-No! T-Tsukki is not talking about m-me!"

Honestly, if Tanaka and Nishinoya couldn't see how excited Yamaguchi looked right now, they were really so stupid.

"Haaa?!" Tanaka said, leaving Tsukishima shoulders to now grab Yamaguchi's. "There's no way Tsukishima knows anyone besides you!"

"Oi..."

"Were you hiding this from us, Yamaguchi?"

Yamaguchi shook his head rapidly, "No! I- I wasn't! I j-just- ah! W-Wait, I really am n-not, kuh- ahahahaha! Wahahahait!"

It was his laughter's turn to bounce against the gym's walls. Echoing into Tsukishima's ears over and over as Nishinoya and Tanaka finally tickled him.

"Damn, Tsukishima was not joking!" Tanaka said as he wiggled his fingers against Yamaguchi's sides.

"How could you hide this from us so well Yamaguchi?!" Nishinoya said as he clawed at Yamaguchi's lower sides.

Their touches weren't as hard as when they tickled Kageyama, but Yamaguchi was nearly cackling, his giggles turning into loud laughs as he squirmed on the floor.

Tanaka and Nishinoya laughed along with him, poking here and squeezing there to find Yamaguchi's weakest spots.

Tsukishima was trying hard to hide his smile as he looked at Tadashi laughing like that. Fuck, people really couldn't notice the extreme happiness on his face? He suddenly thought that, perhaps, he didn't want anyone to notice.

"N-Nohohoya-sahahahan!" Yamaguchi laughed, throwing his head back as Noya's fingers latched to his upper ribs.

"Agh! Ryuu! Yamaguchi keeps trying to stop me!" Tsukishima curled an eyebrow, Yamaguchi really wasn't trying to. "Could you do something?"

Tanaka smirked and Tsukishima understood. In a blink of an eye, Yamaguchi had his arms pinned above his head, making him shriek and arch his back as Nishinoya's fingers vibrated at his exposed ribs.

"N-NOHOHO! N-Nohohoyahaha-sahahan! Plehehease, I- gahahahaha!" Yamaguchi's laughter increased a bit more when Nishinoya moved to squeeze his hips.

"Shouyou!" Nishinoya suddenly yelled and in a second, that orange ball of energy was right by his side, smiling widely. "Help me out? Ryuu is a little busy at the moment."

Tanaka smirked, holding down Yamaguchi's arms, though, Tsukishima could clearly see that Yamaguchi wasn't putting up much of a fight.

Hinata beamed and, even before Tsukishima noticed it, his hands were already attached to Yamaguchi's stomach, clawing at it mercilessly. Yamaguchi's laughter went a little higher, more squeaky as his cheeks turned pink.

"Woah, Yamaguchi really is ticklish!" Hinata said wiggling his fingers all over his new victim's tummy.

"Hey, get his armpits!"

"NOHOHOHO!"

Nishinoya and Hinata quickly looked at each other with wide eyes, smirks pulling at their lips. They both left the spots they were tickling and quickly moved to Yamaguchi's underarms.

"AHAHAHA! N-Nohoho! Plehehease, not thehehere!" Yamaguchi threw his head back with wild laughter.

They each took one poor armpit, so they had two hands to go crazy with: on one side, scratching, on the other, digging and then pinching; and then at the other, clawing and poking. Rubbing, digging, wiggling- just every technique their little brains could think of to drive Yamaguchi up the wall.

And they were achieving it. Yamaguchi was losing his mind, laughing in hysterics as Nishinoya and Hinata tickled his worst spot. Tsukishima almost felt bad... if Yamaguchi didn't look like he was having the time of his life, that was.

"Tickle, tickle, Yamaguchi~," they teased and both Tsukishima and Kageyama cringed as Yamaguchi blushed to his ears.

"It tihihickles so bahahad, plehehease!"

Tanaka, "Yamaguchi is so ticklish, be can't even talk!"

Hinata, "Yamaguchi is so ticklish, I think he'll explode!"

Nishinoya, "Yamaguchi is so ticklish, he'll-

"Oi, you three!" two shrieks could be heard and they didn't come from Yamaguchi. They belonged to Nishinoya and Hinata as Daichi-san had grabbed them by their shirt collars and yanked them away from Yamaguchi. "You're being too much, that's torture!"

Was it really torture if the one being tortured is having fun? Tsukishima wondered.

"Tanaka, let go of your kohai!" Tanaka whined but he did what he was told and freed Yamaguchi's arms, the poor boy quickly pulled them down as he let out residual giggles.

"I am going to ban this stupid game from this gym! You're a menace! What would you have done if Yamaguchi passed out, huh? You three really should learn...-"

Yamaguchi, shaking slightly, quickly crawled back beside Tsukishima, sitting down with a long, satisfied sigh.

Tsukishima looked at him and he smirked, "was that fun?"

Yamaguchi flushed, sending a shy glance to Tsukishima, "you're the worst, Tsukki."

Tsukishima chuckled, "Well, I just said you were the most ticklish person ever, I didn't tell them to check it out, did I?"

Yamaguchi huffed, but a shy smile pulled at the corners of his lips, making something in Tsukishima's chest flutter warmly and he couldn't help but discreetly reach out to link his pinky with Yamaguchi's.

It was painfully obvious that Yamaguchi liked being tickled, but Tsukishima was glad that this bunch of idiots didn't notice because, even though Tadashi hadn't told him directly, it was their little shared secret and Tsukishima was glad he was the only one to know about it!

[gigglyrambles]

Of Campaigns & Revelations (Steve/Eddie)

Fandom: Stranger Things Characters: Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson Summary: Eddie loves planning campaigns, Steve loves planning events. So how exactly did the dream team get so sidetracked? Words: 2700+

Notes: Ahhhh not only is he late with his first fic on this account, but he's late for SS too. I was lucky enough to write a fic for the absolutely incredibly talented @rosiesramblings! I tried to use all of your prompts (earning a reward, too much energy and boredom) somewhere in the fic and apologies for the late post, but I hope you like It!!! A big thank you to our lovely host @hypahticklish too. Happy happy holidays and a wonderful new year to everyone.

Sometimes, Eddie Munson laughs and Steve swears it could shatter that Garfield mug he’s so obsessed with— despite the fact that he only uses the damn thing for hot chocolate.

Like the breathy laughter that burst from his lips last friday, When Robin spent a little too long comparing an old photo of Steve to the baby from The Labyrinth. Most memorably, a joke about their shared fashion taste had the party’s favorite dungeon master quite literally wheezing on the shag carpet, clutching his sides as if he’d never recover from the sheer hilarity of it all.

Or perhaps he was thinking of the high pitched yelp of laughter that broke free every time he was caught off guard. As much as Eddie hated to be genuinely scared, he found way too much amusement in getting jump scared. Shitty horror films, friends hiding behind doors, or even that lame haunted house from Halloween— All of the above earned the same result, a shriek that dissolved into laughter about halfway through.

Then again, they weren’t all bubbly and loud. Eddie’s laughter could be soft and sweet too, harboring an almost shy cadence when the time called for it and…

It’s at this exact moment, with utensils ever so neatly tucked into napkins and plates set along the grand mahogany dining room table, that Steve realizes he’s been thinking about Eddie Munson way too much. All it took was one crappy little chuckle, one silly reaction to a half assed joke, for his thoughts to wander. Anything the other said during his trance was a mystery, though as that playful voice came back into frame, Steve figured the context clues were probably easy enough to figure out.

“-not a fighter, clearly. Maybe a Paladin or a bard. One thing is for sure, you’d definitely play an elf or a half elf. A prince maybe. Estranged?” Eddie’s rambles are definitely pointed towards him, although it’s clearly more of a conversation with himself than anything else.

Calf crossed over thigh, he sits on the kitchen counter. Pale hands hold a green piping bag steady over a tray of freshly cooked sugar cookies, adding some ghoulish finishing touches. “Just say the word, Big Boy, and I’ll create the most perfect, personalized Steve Harrington campaign of the year.”

“You mean the only Steve Harrington campaign of the year?” Steve retorts.

Just like always, sarcasm drips from his lips like honey. Even after volunteering his house, time and energy to Eddie and his Hellfire Goblins, the self proclaimed babysitter still can’t seem to fight his natural born grumpiness.

That persona was like a security blanket or a teddy bear; Steve’s always relied on it to make the world less scary or more accurately, to make himself less vulnerable. The Harrington Boy, The King, The Babysitter, every new iteration had improvements, but they also had one thing in common: A security mechanism, an off switch of sorts. Something that Eddie Munson clearly lacked.

“Only cause you’re a buzzkill.” Eddie insists, licking a bit of green from his fingertips.

The cookies are far from perfect but they’ll undoubtedly impress the kids. Dark eyes examine each one with a precision he definitely didn’t supply when creating them, though eventually he deems them good enough with a dimpled grin and a cheeky thumbs up.

With two hours left on the clock, Eddie finds himself at a loss. All the fun tasks for the campaign tonight have been finished. Food and snacks were the first on the list to be crossed off with pizza scheduled for later and fresh baked cookies set to the side. Decorations were next. Everything from miniature figurines to home made maps to origami dragons and mini potion bottles for the kids filled with juice.

The idea to spike the potion bottles had been vetoed with a very amusing yet indignant huff. Despite Eddie's insistence that he was a 'born rebel' at fifteen, Steve refuses to give them a lick of alcohol before they hit senior year.

Aside from that, all that was left was mundane tasks like vacuuming or cleaning up the newly created mess in the kitchen. Most people would have cheered, thankful to finish their list of chores before the fun could begin. Though most people didn’t have as much energy as Eddie Munson.

“Well this is it, Stevie.” Eddie pipes up a few moments later, watching the other brunette readjust the table settings for a bunch of soon to be sophomores who definitely wouldn’t notice if the fork was on the left side or the right. “Two hours left and you’re too busy turning my campaign into a murder mystery dinner to pay attention to me so clearly? I’m dying. I can’t believe I’m gonna die of boredom in the Harrington Household… So big. So cold. So… white and mundane for someone as vibrant as myself.”

Eddie’s melodramatic performance is enough to peak Steve’s interest, but not his amusement.

“Finish Vacuuming the living room or stop complaining” Steve answers flatly. Over time, he’s learned that playing into the antics only magnifies them. Ninety nine percent of the time, just disregarding Eddie’s insane childish tendencies made them go away. “Besides, you can’t die from boredom.”

Ninety nine percent of the time, that would have worked.

Unfortunately, there was still that worrisome one percent to worry about.

“Well you might.”

“I might what—” Oblivious as ever, Steve finally ditches the table settings. Turning on his heel, the brunette’s lips are already parted, ready to question what the hell that response implies when he catches sight of the other’s stance.

Kitchen counter long since abandoned, the feisty dungeon master is taking stake across the room. Socked feet slide across dark polished wood, eerily unsettling in the quiet pace they set. Pale hands are held up, turned into claws with wiggling fingers that make Steve’s stomach flip as uncertainty settles in.

“Okay, okay. You might not die from my boredom.” Eddie hums lowly, lips curling into a grin that can only be described as downright mischievous. Each word is drawn out slower than the last, anticipation building between the two. “But you might not survive the cure. Let's see. I already tried knock knock jokes, barely effective. Funny movies, ehh somewhat works— Unless they’re too weird. Then you just sit all grumpy and confused— Anyway, not the point! Dear Steven, my point is…”

Similar to those puzzles Nancy used to force on him while babysitting Mike, he should’ve figured it out sooner, but he’s definitely seeing the picture a bit more clearly with time. They’re approximately halfway through Eddie’s villainous monologue when it clicks. Every example revolves around making him laugh which is an incredibly flustering thought all on its own. Out of all the ways to cure his boredom, Eddie wanted to do so while making Steve smile. Most people focused on his hair, his ass, his better known assets.

Eddie Munson was the first person to ever fixate on something so mundane.

Thankfully, Steve doesn’t have a second to worry about the heat crawling up the back of his neck, or the slowly developing crush that he’s most certainly going to ignore.

“… that I never asked if you were ticklish. Always felt like a cheap shot, you know? Low hanging fruit, but in the name of science, we do have to test every—” And that’s all it takes. The second the word ticklish leaves Eddie’s lips, the former jock is sprinting across the length of the dining room table and out of the room.

Heart hammering in his chest, the beat is so loud Steve can practically hear it ringing in his ears. White converse round a corner, running into the living room while quick footsteps sound close behind.

“Oh come on, Pretty Boy.” Eddie snorts through a laugh of his own. “Don’t run away from me!”

If he just looked back, he would have seen the way Eddie smiled at him from ear to ear, excitement and giddiness bursting from his pores. He would have seen the way the other nearly slipped in his socks, clearly lacking any grip as they ran around like little boys again. He would have seen the way those dark eyes lingered, how they drank him in, admiring his toned legs from years of athletics.

If he just looked back, maybe he would have registered how close he was to his demise. Then again, if he looked back, then Eddie might have seen how flustering that pet name was, or worse: He could have seen the smile tugging at his lips.

One foot rounds the corner of the couch but never gets the opportunity to touch down. Instead, fingers curl around the back of his sweater, swiftly pulling Steve until he’s falling. His back hits the sofa cushions with a soft grunt, brown locks splayed across the decorative pillow.

Everything flips in an instant. Eddie’s upper hand turns to shit the second he jumps onto the couch. Leaving more than enough room in between them, Steve takes the opportunity to act. Lightning quick reflexes give him just enough time to weave underneath the metalhead’s arm, flipping their positions until Eddie’s the one with his back against the couch and wide eyes looking up.

Though rather than looking scared he looks… exhilarated.

Any anxiety written across Steve’s face a minute ago is missing from Eddie’s now. As the general surprise wears off, he goes from wide eyed to giggly, immediately throwing his hands up in a mercy pose he knows won’t work. Wild curls fall in every direction, the occasional soft breathy laugh stumbling from his lips as he tries to worm out from underneath Steve’s pin.

“Stevie, C’mon. I was just trying to have a little bit of fun- Wait wait- Steve Hey-” In the long debated question of Dungeon Master Vs. Varsity Athlete, they finally know who comes out on top. Eddie’s rambled mixture of explanations, apologies and pleas fall on deaf ears the second nimble fingers touch down on his sides.

One of the most accessible vantage points, it proves rather successful when one squeeze elicits a sharp huff, all the air in his lungs leaving at once. Eddie’s body instinctively tries to pull away again, hands attempting to intercept Steve’s insistent poking and prodding of the soft flesh.

The silence lasts all of seven seconds. Any attempt to threaten Steve dies on his lips, choked out to make room for all the laughter taking control. Immediately thrashing around to the best of his ability, it’s clear that Eddie’s not going down peacefully.

“A little bit of fun doing what, Eds?” Steve questions. “Annoying me? Chasing me around my own house? I mean, shit, Munson. How the hell do you even have all of this energy? Honestly. I did you a favor flipping the tables, you clearly needed to tire yourself out.”

Each new guess and tease is accentuated with another poke at his vulnerable sides. One to the left right below his ribs, one to the right closer to his back, two on either side near his tummy, and one aimed in that squishy spot directly above his pantline— One that has his giggles interlaced with squeaks and squeals, struggling to handle any sort of stimulation that close to his hips.

“Nohohoho not thehehere!” Eddie whines half heartedly, though Steve can’t help but notice how little he fights back, hardly using any strength whatsoever in his attempts to grab onto those tortuous digits.

Thankfully for the thrashing Dungeon Master, Steve doesn’t get the chance to drill his thumbs into the divots of his hips for very long. An incredible stop on his grand tour of Eddie Munson’s giggle buttons, the destination proves to be too much. One sharp dig earns a yell so piercing the neighbor’s dog begins to bark, rough hands diving forward to grab onto anything for some sort of stability.

What Eddie’s trained fingers find instead is that squeezing Steve Harrington’s thighs renders the guy practically useless. A loud shriek splatters around the room, high pitched almost desperate giggles flying from his mouth. Any ounce of strength was sapped, curling up against Eddie’s chest in a way he’d swear was romantic in any other circumstance.

Umber eyes meet hazel, gazes locked with recognition on both sides before the tables are flipped yet again. Eddie hooks a leg underneath Steve’s knee, an arm worming out from below to wrap around his waist.

Before the Family Video employee can so much as suck in a breath from his fit of giggles, they’re back in the original position with a self proclaimed babysitter pretending not to enjoy himself on bottom and a metalhead who couldn’t hide it if he tried on top.

It turns out that Steve Harrington fucking shape shifts when you tickle him. The former jock’s confident sarcastic persona changes to something else entirely. If Eddie’s attempts to get away were half assed then Steve’s attempts don’t exist. Every new spot or tactic is brought with a new form of laughter, but they all have the same thing in common:

Steve’s leaning into it.

There’s no denying it. When teasing nails drag up his side, he turns into the affection rather than away from it. When his lower stomach is kneaded like a fresh pile of dough, he leans forward instead of pushing back. And when thumbs drill into his armpits, the brunette actually attempts to keep his arms up or at least not locked at his sides god forbid their fun ends too soon after being blocked.

Of course, Steve doesn’t notice this. Nor does he realize that Eddie was noticing this, but one of them has to be the observant one and it’s not the mess of giggles currently turning rosier with every passing second.

It’s almost as if their enjoyment is the key. Once that last bit of hesitance drains out, calloused fingers waste no time. Eddie changes spots again, this time clawing at his ribs with a smile that reeks of both vengeance and affection, a combo punch that would have made Steve breathless if he wasn’t already dissolving under deep belly laughter.

There’s way less talking now too. While Eddie’s an incredibly wiggly and talkative victim, babbling and thrashing through his hysterics, Steve seems to struggle getting anything out other than his laughter, only managing the occasional babble or squeal induced ‘Eds!’.

Finally those skilled guitarist fingers choose to take pity on him, allowing Steve to actually get a word in.

“Nohot… fair.” He breathes out through residual giggles. It doesn’t matter that the tickling has since ceased. Ghost sensations still tease and taunt across his sensitive skin, mentally swearing that he could still feel those fingertips dancing across his torso.

Eddie’s endearment drips like honey, dark eyes warming at the sight of his friend still struggling to get his act together. “No? I think that was totally fair. Plus, I slaved over those cookies, Stevie Boy. Heart and soul. Body and mind. Don’t I deserve a little prize?” His lips curl into a wicked grin, knowing damn well that his next words would fluster more than soothe. “Perhaps shaped in the form of those cute ass giggles of yours?”

Just as expected, heat begins to crawl up the back of Steve’s neck at the sentiment, though the rosy hue on his face from earlier makes it easy to mask the blush currently spreading. As if proving Eddie’s point further, playful pokes return to Steve’s torso, randomly nudging little spots until he’s back to bubbly uncontrollable giggles.

Using the last bit of strength, he reaches out to give Eddie’s side a squeeze, earning matching breathy laughter in return.

The fight grows less clear after that. Stray pokes and occasional squeezes keep both boys giddy, lost in their own little bubble.

For as long as he could remember, Steve Harrington had been a fixer. Even when the most misguided, he tried to right his own wrongs as well as everyone else’s around him. What began in early childhood as a terribly sad attempt of bringing his parents together had warped into a personality trait, a role he constantly forced himself to play out of fear of feeling useless.

But now the pressure of planning a perfect event for the kids is long forgotten and somehow he knows it’ll all work out. Because Eddie’s laughter is interlaced with his, their cheeks rosy and breath staggered. Suddenly, that familiar ache in his chest doesn’t feel quite as heavy as before and Steve realizes while doing absolutely nothing important at all, that he doesn't feel useless. He realizes that maybe…

“Hoholy Shit, Harrington. Forget weed. I think those damn giggles of yours got me high.”

Maybe this feeling between them was something else entirely.

Sometimes, Eddie Munson laughs and Steve wonders if love has always sounded like this.

[tklpilled]

i wouldn't mind

(aziraphale/crowley)

summary: aziraphale tries to make crowley laugh. usually, he fails.

a/n: merry christmas, @aaaxolotl !! i hope you enjoy your gift :) thank you so much to @hypahticklish for hosting this year! note that i haven’t seen good omens since it came out, sorry for any mischaracterisation!!

[this is a sfw tickle fic!]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A question gnaws at the back of Aziraphale’s mind.

He’s not sure where it came from, but he’s certain it won’t leave until he knows the answer. He glances at Crowley, who looks so at peace, but he has the terribly strong urge to ruin it. It seems silly to think about, really, but the more the question lingers the more Aziraphale craves to know.

Is Crowley…ticklish?

Aziraphale’s first thought is, no, of course not. His second thought is, but why not? There’s no reason why Crowley wouldn’t be. Aziraphale himself is rather sensitive in that way, so it isn’t like it’s a trait shared only by mortals. As he thinks about it more, Aziraphale finds he really, really wants to know. 

He can’t just ask, of course. The chances of Crowley lying are too high, and then Crowley would catch on to what he was doing and hide away any reactions he may have. Aziraphale has to be subtle about this.

He sits next to Crowley and extends his wing out, curling it around Crowley and pulling him into his side. Crowley pays no mind, leaning against Aziraphale and continuing to read the book he’d been given. Aziraphale hums quietly, then slips his wing under Crowley’s shirt so his feathers dance along bare skin. Very subtle.

Crowley twitches minutely, but otherwise shows no other signs of even feeling it. He says nothing, not even looking up at the angel. Internally, Aziraphale sighs—it’s almost external, too, until he remembers Crowley is there. Of course, this doesn’t mean Crowley isn’t ticklish. It simply means he’s either very good at concealing his reactions, or he’s just not ticklish in that particular spot. Both of which are equally possible.

Aziraphale reconsiders what he’s gotten himself into.

It’s years later when he tries again.

They sit side by side, and Aziraphale had purposefully placed his mug just out of reach. He waits until they’re both settled in, then leans across Crowley, placing his hand on the demon’s knee to steady himself. He gives his knee a small squeeze, bracing himself in case it does get a reaction.

It doesn’t.

Aziraphale readjusts his hand, trying not to seem suspicious, and squeezes again—this time at Crowley’s thigh. Again, nothing.

Aziraphale grabs his cup and sits back. Well.

Throughout their time together those few days, Aziraphale makes several attempts; he finds ways to poke at Crowley’s hips, nudge him in his ribs, prod under his arms, and it all results in failure. If Crowley’s caught on to what he’s doing, he doesn’t mention it, but maybe it would explain the lack of any reaction at all. Or maybe Crowley just isn’t ticklish, which is starting to seem more and more likely. Aziraphale is close to resigning his mission. It seems silly to think about, really. Why would a demon from Hell be something as childish as ticklish?

-

Crowley is ticklish.

Crowley. Is ticklish.

Told you so, says the part of Aziraphale’s brain that started this whole mess in the first place. He ignores it in favour of his newfound discovery.

He wouldn’t have even noticed if not for this whole ordeal. It was only a slight response, but as Aziraphale walked by, his wings brushed Crowley’s ear and then—there was a quiet, sharp intake of breath, and that was all Aziraphale needed.

“Are you alright?” asks Aziraphale, as if he has no clue what he’s just done.

“Of course, angel,” says Crowley, nonchalantly. Not suspecting a single thing.

Crowley’s head is turned, so Aziraphale takes the chance to raise his wing and repeat the action. Crowley, this time, flinches so subtly that it would go unnoticed on any other occasion. 

“Crowley,” begins Aziraphale, “you wouldn’t be ticklish, now, would you?”

Crowley tenses up. “Of course not,” he hums.

Aziraphale steps closer, as Crowley steps back. “So, if I—”

“Fine, angel, you’ve got me—”

“I think I need to test this new information.”

Crowley sighs, but he allows Aziraphale to move even closer to him. “This really won’t be necessa—hahary—c-cohome on nohow—-”

Aziraphale curls a few feathers around Crowley’s ear, and he absolutely relishes in the quiet giggles he receives in return. They’re softer than would be expected from someone like Crowley, but they carry a bit of his rasp, and they aren’t very loud either, but they’re from Crowley, so Aziraphale loves them regardless.

What makes it even better, in Aziraphale’s opinion, is how Crowley lets him continue for as long as he’d like.

[soft-tk-fluff]

Happy new year/ very belated Christmas…? I am so sorry for the delay of your gift! But @vqler I was your secret Santa this year! Which is a bit ironic because you were the one who reminded me to join lmao XD! I hope it’s to your liking, I made a short zagthan comic for you as your gift this year (does it even count as this year anymore cause it’s already 2023…) but I digress! I hope you had an amazing Christmas and New Years! Thank you @hypahticklish for hosting @squealing-santa this time! It was an amazing experience to take part of! Which I will definitely be joining again in 2023!

[practickles]

A Much Needed Sewing Lesson (Squealing Santa 2022 I)

Fandom: The Owl House

Lee: Hunter

Ler: Darius Deamonne

Platonic/Familial ofc

Word Ct: 1.6k

Warnings: Tickles, Brief mention of a sewing needle, self deprecating thoughts and words, a touch of angst

Squealing Santa gift for @alexielvee This takes place at some point between Any Sport in a Storm and Hollow Mind. The prompt I used was "Person A is insecure about something and Person B makes a game, for everything bad thing said about themselves (themselves as in person A) one minute of tickles" I am so sorry this took me so long to get out, life has really been getting in my way lately. I hope you enjoy regardless of the wait, happy holidays!

----

“Ow!” Hunter yelped as his needle poked through the fabric too hard and hit his finger for the sixth time that day. “Darius, what am I even doing wrong?” 

“Nothing.” Darius responded with a tired sigh. “You just need to be more careful. These things take practice. It would do you some good to learn some patience.”

The two were alone in Darius’s study, all work for the day completed early enough to make time for a brief sewing lesson. Hunter frustrated and Darius running thin on tolerance though, they were making far from progress. 

“I don’t even get why I have to learn how to do it this way! You can do it with your abomination magic easy! Isn’t there anything like that I can do?” Hunter complained.

“As I have explained to you hundreds of times already, it makes it easier to do it magically if you do it this way first. Besides, unless you plan on taking years and years learning abomination magic for such a menial task, you shouldn’t be comparing our abilities. Though I’m beginning to have my doubts on your dedication to learning how to sew.” Darius brought a hand to his own temple and rubbed it firmly. “Now if you want my help that I am so generously giving you with what little spare time I have, I suggest you pick that needle back up and try again.”

Hunter huffed from his position on the floor and gave a slight glare to his mentor as he reluctantly obliged. He continued his work in silence, Darius’s firm gaze fixed upon him. 

“You’re going to tear the fabric if you keep pulling though it that hard. You need to relax.” Darius pointed out, taking care to keep his voice calm so as not to make the situation worse. 

“Well maybe I could relax better if I wasn’t so awful at this!” Hunter burst out, tossing his project onto his lap. 

“Don’t say things like that. Like I’ve said, you just need time and practice.” Darius reprimanded.

“But it’s true, Darius! I’m terrible at this! I’m terrible at sewing, I’m terrible at being in the Emperor's Coven, I’m terrible at making friends! I’m just terrible!” Hunter felt his face go red and the beginning of tears sting his eyes.

Okay, maybe this was about more than sewing. 

The two sat in tense, stunned silence.

Darius didn’t know what to do. Never before had he seen such raw emotion from the boy across from him. He supposed it was a mark of their newfound closeness to each other and felt a slight sense of pride at the thought. That being said though, he had very little experience with comforting others, especially teenagers saddled with more than anyone should ever have to take on. Sure he had his own experience and that of his friends from distant years ago but the tests of time had left Darius unable to fully grasp what the young boy was going through. 

Wait. 

Thinking back to his own teenage years reminded Darius of a particular game he and those close to him used to enjoy in times of need. It was definitely worth a shot.

“I think we’re both overdue for a break.” He broke the silence, making Hunter look up at him, rubbing his eyes in the process, already embarrassed of his outburst. “I suggest we play a game of sorts.”

“Shouldn’t I be working on sewing? Like you said, neither of us get much time to do this kind of thing.” Hunter questioned softly.

“Which, little prince, is exactly why we should step back for a moment and take a break.” Darius said with a soft smile. “Working while in your current state won’t make you much progress. You’ll improve at a higher rate later on. Consider it training.”

“Okay.” Hunter said, quickly adding “But only because it will help me get better at sewing.”

“Whatever you say.” Darius rolled his eyes, not entirely convinced.

“So what do I even need to do for your game anyways?” Hunter asked.

“It’s better demonstrated.” Darius walked over to Hunter, sat on the floor in front of him and moved any fabric and supplies well out of the way. “You have a particular habit of talking about yourself in a less than complementary way.”

“Well tha-” Hunter fruitlessly began. 

“Hush. You asked for instructions and I am giving them to you. This game is meant to combat that habit of yours. If you are uncomfortable at any point, just say something and I will stop at once. Understood?” 

“Understood. Though I’m still confused on-” 

“You won’t be for much longer.” Darius, without further hesitation clawed his hands and grabbed Hunter’s sides, squeezing them rapidly.

Hunter had no time to prepare for the sudden onslaught, making him all but scream with unexpected laughter. “AHEHEAH WHYHY?” He screeched.

“For every negative comment you make about yourself, you get this,” He emphasized with a particularly rough squeeze, “For another minute. As you have already made six, this may be a long game for you.” Darius briefly removed a single hand to form an hourglass out of abomination goo and let it begin to drip, signifying the time Hunter had left. 

Hunter, still helplessly laughing at his mentor’s touch, looked at the hourglass, torturously slow dripping down. “I caHAHAHN’T MAHAHAKE IHIHT THAHAHT LOHNG.”

“Hm. That’s too bad.” Darius’s voice was too monotone to the point that any words he said so casually teased the younger to absolute bits. That was definitely on purpose. “Well, I believe doubting your ability gets you another minute.” He moved to squeeze rapidly at Hunter’s hips, sending him into further hysterics as he watched the top of the hourglass fill with more goo. 

“NOHOHO NOHOHOT THAHAT, IHIHM SOHORRY.” He just barely was able to get out through his own laughter. 

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy this. You’ve barely been trying to get away and you haven’t asked me to stop once, despite saying you would.” Darius pointed out, aside from a steadily growing smirk, emotionless as ever as Hunter flushed at his words. “If you’re really soooo sorry, you can give yourself two compliments and have a minute taking off.” 

Hunter squirmed back and forth on instinct, and had it been really anyone other than Darius, he might have been able to get away but unfortunately (or really fortunately) the older man was far stronger and was easily able to keep Hunter in his grasp. “I CHAHAN’T THIHINK OF ANHAHAYTHING.THEHERE’S NOHOT MUHUHCH TO COMPLIMEHEHNT”

“What a shame. That’s another minute. It’s almost as if you’re doing this on purpose.” Darius said smugly, moving one hand from the boy’s hip to quickly scribble over his stomach.

“I WAHASN’T THIHINKING.” Hunter squealed as Darius brushed over a particularly sensitive spot. “I DIHIHDN’T MEHEAN IT.” He racked his brain for anything he could say about himself to make up for his slip up but the tickles were making it a little hard to think clearly. He then remembered the very thing that got him into this mess in the first place. Yeah. He could use that. “IHI’VE BEHEHN WORKING HARARD OHON SEWHING AND IH”VE GOHOTEN A LIHITLE BETTER”

Darius sighed, “I’ll take it.” A thin layer of goo dissipated from the top of the hourglass, “Though I’d argue that “working hard” and “a little better” are not  sufficient complements.” He figured he should show at least a little mercy and count Hunter’s half-baked attempt regardless.

“I CAHAN’T THIHINK STRAHAIGHT, IT TIHIHCKLES. CUHUT MEHE SOME SLAHCK.” He demanded.

“Oh does it now? It’s almost as if that’s the whole point of this exercise, little prince.” Darius quipped sarcastically. “Though if you really want it to tickle, I suppose we could work something out.” Without any further warning, Darius moved both hands to swiftly prod and squeeze at Hunter’s ribs, causing a scream to ring out from him at the sudden intensity. “This is a bad spot, isn’t it?.”

Hunter didn’t have a clever retort or really any words as he had no choice but to sit back and lose himself in happy laughter. At one point or another he had leaned his head back and shut his eyes, so it came as a surprise when he heard a “One more minute” from a voice above him. 

Darius began to slow down his hands in an attempt to ward away at least a little of what was sure to be lingering sensitivity when the minute was up. He lightened his touch and moved again to his sides, leaving Hunter in constant giggles, as opposed to the screaming of earlier. 

He finally stopped the tickling and moved back to give Hunter room to breathe through the remainder of his laughter. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeheah. After all, Ihi’ve been through haharder training.” Hunter giggled

“I’m glad. If you’d like, we can go back to sewing after a bit of a break. We still have a little time.” 

“Thahat sounds good, but I sthihill need a bit of a breather.” 

“I believe we can work that in.” Darius fondly smiled at him. 

It was truly an odd sight to see Hunter so comfortable and happy and… relaxed. Darius didn’t think anyone had seen him like this in years. He realized with his own smirk and teasy eyes, he might have looked the same to Hunter. They were incredibly lucky to have each other.

----

Special thanks to @hypahticklish for hosting @squealing-santa this year, you've been incredible!

[koala-fluff]

Merry Christmas, @theoncelee! I'm your gifter, and I really hope you enjoy this fic!

As for everyone else, enjoy as well!

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

Suger High

It was supposed to be a normal sleepover, but Eddie and Robin stole Mr. Wheeler's coffee candy.

"No, Eddie!" Steve grunted as he hit the post in Nancy's basement. "Stop! Don't do it"

"No cahan do, babe!" Eddie giggled as he grabbed one of the brooms. "Buckley hahas threatened myhy honor!"

"I just said you had bad taste in music!" Robin shrieked, running away from the broom-wielding crazy man. She giggled as she vaulted over the couch.

"Robin, honey!" Nancy winced, whipping around as the duo ran past. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

"I'll be fine~! Munson won't be, once I retrieve my weapon!"

Steve groaned and decided to just sit on the couch. Nancy and him had been trying to wrangle their partners for the past ten minutes. The partners that had eaten a shit load of caffeinated candy.

Steve didn't even know that candy could have coffee in it, but here they were.

"I swear, I am going to get my shotgun." Nancy muttered, sitting next to him. Most would be scared by the threat, but he could see the slight smile on her lips as Robin stole the broom from Eddie.

"We just need some way to calm them down." Steve winced as Robin smacked Eddie's head with the broom. Neither looked injured, thank goodness. "Any ideas?"

Nancy raised her eyebrow. "We've been trying my ideas for the past ten minutes. You come up with something." She said, leaning back and rubbing her face.

Steve groaned again. He loved both Eddie and Robin to death, but they were too much of a handful on a normal basis. High on sugar and caffeine? That made them eight handfuls. Nancy and him didn't have four hands each.

The duo sprinted past, Eddie somehow holding onto the broom now. Robin then slammed into the wall and Eddie nearly impaled himself with the cleaning device. Both ended up just laughing hysterically on the floor, argument forgotten.

"That's it!" Steve stomped over, heart still racing from the spectacle. He grabbed them both up by the shirt and dragged them towards the couch.

"Aw~ c'mon, Harrington!" Eddie giggled out. "Noho neheed to behe mahad!"

Steve didn't reply and merely shoved Robin onto Nancy's lap. He sat down next to the two women and tugged Eddie onto his lap as well.

"Let's calm them down." Steve said, nodding at Nancy.

"Whahat're you gonna doho?" Robin stuck her tongue out as her girlfriend hugged her close. "Smohother us?"

"No. Just gonna tickle the energy out of you." Steve said matter of factly, smirking.

For the first time in the past ten minutes, the two crazy people froze. Their eyes widened comically while Nancy smirked at Steve.

"I like that idea, Harrington." She agreed, holding onto Robin's struggling form.

"Why thank you, Wheeler." The boy replied. "On the count of three."

"Wahait!"

"One."

"Wehe'll cahalm down!"

"Two "

"Plehease, guys!"

"Three."

Already in a giggly mood, both victims instantly broke down as their partners dug their fingers into their sides.

"Steheheve, noho!" Eddie spluttered, pushing at his boyfriend's chest.

"Steve, yes." He replied, moving down to squeeze the guitar player's hips.

Robin only cackled, her limbs turning to jelly as Nancy moved to target her ribs. She buried her face into her girlfriend's shoulder, muffling her laughter a small bit.

"I think your plan was the best one we've come up with." Nancy mused, raising her voice over Eddie's high-pitched laughter.

"I thought it was brilliant." Steve smirked, slowly crawling his fingers up to his victim's armpits. "Guess that means I get a score on that whiteboard, right Robin?"

She only shook her head in reply, her body melting as Nancy scribbled her nails against her back.

The two really had completely different reactions to tickling, huh? While Eddie thrashed and shrieked as his armpits were attacked, Robin only melted completely and snorted as her stomach was targeted.

Steve couldn't help but look at both of them, love in his eyes. These were the bestest friends he could ask for.

His thoughts were interrupted as a pair of fingers dug into his ribs. With a surprised shriek, he fell backwards and was soon the one to laugh.

"Gotcha, Harrington." Eddie teased, spidering his hands across Steve's stomach.

"Dahamn ihit, Muhunson!" Steve squealed, trying to twist away. "IhI'm supposed toho behe calming you dohown!"

"True. But I can just lose energy by tickling you!" Eddie grinned, fluttering his fingers against Steve's neck. "It's way more amusing!"

Nancy rolled her eyes at the sight of the boys. "You best not try to tickle me, Robbie." She said, turning her attention back to her girlfriend. "It'll just get worse if you do."

Robin shook her head. She had zero idea how Eddie could easily turn the tables on people. She could barely move her arms as it was!

"Hey, Wheeler! Wanna see which one taps out first?" Eddie challenged, wiggling his eyebrows.

"It wouldn't be fair for me!" Nancy countered. "Robin's been tickled for longer than Steve."

"That is true, but we both know he's more ticklish than her."

"Good point… sure. It's on, Munson!" Nancy grinned, getting into the spirit of things. "Winner gets to sleep on the couch instead of the floor tonight!"

"Well then, have fun on the floor, Wheeler!"

Steve tapped out first, as expected. The competition didn't matter anyway. All four ended up sleeping on the couch.

Together.

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

Oh goodness... This took way longer than I wanted...

I sincerely hoped you liked it, cause I'm too tired to tell if this is actually good or not.

Have a wonderful Christmas and a happy New Year!

[tiklart]

VERY BELATED SQUEALING SANTA GIFT FOR @cawhawhaw

The fandom: Metal Family (Glam x Chive)

The prompt: Games in the snow

I deeply apologize for the late gift my guy 🧎 I hope you enjoy this :) had a lot of fun drawing them 🥲

I’m a big fan of your art btw 😔✋

[fanfic-chan]

Snow and Memories in Sumeru

Ler!Cyno/Lee!Tighnari

Summary: Heya @tickly-trashcan!!^^ I ended up getting you for the squealing santa event, so I decided to use the pairing of Cyno and Tighnari with the wake up tickles prompt because I absolutely adore these two! I really hope you enjoy it and that you had a happy holiday! Also, thanks so much to our amazing host this year, @hypahticklish!! I had a ton of fun participating in this and I can't wait until next year!!

"Alright that's it, stop being stubborn and get up already. I'm not gonna tell you again..."

"Mmnn..."

"Tighnari, I'm warning you...."

"Ngh, nooo... Go 'way... Lemme sleep you lummox..."

Feeling his eye starting to twitch in annoyance of his friend's unusually crabby attitude, Cyno watched as the half asleep forest ranger merely rolled over and continued to doze, the comfy blankets of Alhaitham's guest bedroom bunched up around him in a messy tangle of chaos.

On any normal day, Cyno wouldn't have really minded so much if his friend wanted to sleep in a little. In fact, he would even go as far to say that he preferred it when thinking back on all the times he'd had to practically force Tighnari to stop studying long enough to sleep back when he was still a student.

It was honestly kinda nice to see him this relaxed and carefree, and he might have even felt a little bit bad for trying to wake him... if not for the circumstances.

Taking a quick peek out the window, Cyno let out a little sigh of relief to see that the tiny flecks of white snowfall that had been his original reason for waking him up in the first place were still falling, and rather heavily in fact.

It had honestly came as quite a shock to him at first when he'd seen it. Afterall, it was pretty rare that Sumeru ever got any snow at all, and if his memory was correct, he and Tighnari had still been small children at the time. Back when the biggest concerns either of them had were climbing trees to get fruit or playing loosely ruled games of Invokation TCG that usually ended in either an argument or a rather competitive tickle fight...

Wait, now there's an idea...

"Tighnari. I'm gonna give you ten more seconds to get out of that bed, or else... Ten."

No movement...

"Nine."

Still nothing...

"Eight... Seven... Six..."

All the way down to the very last numbers, Tighnari still didn't budge an inch. Cyno sighed.

"...One. Ok then. If that's how you wanna play it. Don't say I didn't warn you..."

Not wanting to waste even another second, the general quickly lunged at his friend's sleeping form, earning a surprised yelp from the unsuspecting forest ranger as the force of his landing on the bed made the entire thing jostle for a moment, and at long last, the fox finally raised his head up, presumably to yell at the wannabe jokester for the disturbance...

Only to immediately shut his mouth again and freeze up when he caught sight of both the threatening look in his friend's eyes, and more importantly, the clawlike, wiggling fingers that he was slowly creeping towards him with.

Oh no...

"W-Wait Cyno, hang on, let's just talk about this like adults alright? W-We're not kids anymore, this is childish! There's no need to- WAHAHA!! AHAhahaha- NO!! Plehehease Cynohohohooo!! Wahahait not thahahahahaaat!!"

Tighnari cried as he was finally pounced upon, having been unable to make a run for it in time due to the seemingly infinite amount of sheets that his legs were currently tangled in.

Cyno couldn't help but chuckle a little at the panicked look on his friend's face as he proceeded to latch onto his sides, sending the poor botanist into a near instant fit of hysterics before he could even begin to properly try and talk his way out of it.

"Sorry, but I'm afraid begging isn't going to do you any good now, my friend." The general stated, sounding comically like this entire ordeal was even more tiring for him than Tighnari, "I already tried waking you up the nice way several times, and yet you still refused me each time, even going so far as to use the little bit of wakefulness you did manage to muster just to insult me before going back to sleep, and yet you expect me to show mercy now?"

He asked indignantly, and perhaps Tighnari was even starting to feel a little bit bad about it...

"Now, doesn't that seem rather, inconsleeperate, of you?"

Ok. Scratch that. He was going to kill him after this, actually...

"Yohohou absohoholute idiohohohohot!!" Not paying any mind to Tighnari's annoyed little half-growl half-giggle in response to the pun, the general smiled, feeling just a tad bit nostalgic of that first snow day back in their younger days.

Ah. Right. The snow.

"Alright. That's enough of that then I suppose." He sighed, finally releasing his friend after only a couple more seconds, watching fondly as the poor forest ranger continued to giggle tiredly, "Let's go. Hurry up, before the snow stops."

A beat.

Another. And then...

"Snow?! In Sumeru?!" Aaand, just like that, the fox was already up and gone, just barely remembering to pull on a pair of boots and a jacket before he was out the door, research journal in hand as he went out into the chilly weather, presumably to start researching how the current environment was faring in such unfamiliar circumstances.

Cyno couldn't help but smile a little at the sight of his normally composed friend's excited smile. Perhaps those two curious young children they'd both once been back then, weren't so very far removed from them afterall...

[dreamingticklee]

A Little TLC ~ Squealing Santa 2022 ~

Ho ho ho! Hi @silviesilviesilvie it’s me, Santa!! Oh dearest friend, I very much enjoyed bouncing around your prompts and creating this for you and I hope you enjoy your gift and have a very merry christmas and a wonderful new year! <3 Biggest thanks and applause to @hypahticklish for hosting, your hard work has not gone unnoticed and I appreciate you! @squealing-santa

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death

Pairing: Lee!Ed, Ler!Stede

Words: 2.5k

It was a relaxing evening at sea, golden sunlight gently caressing the water, creating a dancing glimmer on the surface. Ed's eyes sparkled in the reflecting light as a calm ocean breeze played with his hair, combing through it like a comforting hand. In his zen-like state, Ed took in a deep breath and stretched back with his arms reaching to the sky. He wouldn't admit it out loud (he's fucking Blackbeard) but here in this moment, he felt truly happy.

"How's it feeling, Ed?" Stede's voice cut in.

Ed, still stretching, turned his head toward Stede. "Hmm? What do you mean?" Had he been caught basking in the moment?

"Your stab wound." Stede moved his arm to point at the exposed area of skin below the hem of Ed's leather jacket.

Ed quickly brought his arms down from their stretch as he looked down at the scabbed mark on the left side of his stomach. It had been about a week since Ed had performed his signature maneuver to "avoid all the important bits" in a raid against a Spanish ship.

"Oh, it's fine."

"Hmm…mind if I take a closer look?"

"Uh, sure, go ahead."

Stede started to slowly bend down until he was at eye level with Ed's middle and gingerly placed a hand on the side of Ed's hip.

Ed froze. Something about Stede's hand at his side and the way Stede's face was so close to such a vulnerable part of him felt so…intimate? Stede's focused eye contact was making his skin tingle under the surface.

Suddenly, Stede stood back up straight and looked into Ed's eyes.

"It's looking a wee bit red still. Does it hurt at all?"

It took Ed a second to snap his brain back into focus.

"Oh, uh…I don't know. It's fine, Stede."

"Would you mind if I cleaned it a bit for you? Don't want it to get any more infected." Stede's voice was so calm and full of care, Ed couldn't help but agree to letting him.

"Sure, if you want to."

________

Down in the captain's quarters, Ed was laying on the couch, with Stede kneeling at his side, and Ed was trying his best to be nonchalant about being asked to pull up his shirt. But he would be lying if he said the action of doing it under Stede's watching eyes didn't make him blush.

Stede had a soft piece of fabric to use as a rag and a small bowl of water, in which he mixed in some lavender soap (he knew it was Ed's favorite.) He dipped a portion of the cloth into the soapy water.

"Ready? Let me know if it stings at all, but it should just take a moment."

"Aye aye, Captain."

Stede huffed a laugh and tenderly brought the wet cloth to Ed's skin.

Oh, Ed thought, that feels…nice.

Stede, ever so careful, dabbed the fabric along Ed's healing wound. He was trying his hardest to not hurt Ed at all, but when he took at quick look at Ed's face, he could see that Ed looked relaxed, and Stede let out a quiet breath he didn't know he was holding. The fact that Ed was willingly letting him care for him like this and, seeming to enjoy it, made his heart swell.

As Stede continued his cleaning, they made soft conversation, and once Stede had felt he had sufficiently cleaned the area, he grabbed another cloth to then begin to dab it dry.

"There," Stede smiled, "all clean." He set down the cloth and gently brought his hand back down, letting his thumb take a few soft swipes on the skin around the wound to ensure that he had dried it properly.

And Ed jumped with a gasp.

Stede quickly stopped and pulled his hand away.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Ed stammered a bit. "Uh, um…no Stede, uh…no, you didn't." Ed cleared his throat.

A look of doubtful confusion graced Stede's face. "Ed, are you sure? Your reaction seemed like I had hurt you…"

Ed signed before admitting, "It wasn't pain, Stede…," his blush from earlier creeping back onto his cheeks.

"Then what….oh." Stede's eyes went wide with surprise and a smile started to grow on his face. "Ed, are you ticklish?"

Ed let out an embarrassed groan and closed his eyes, his whole body going hot now as the blush took over his entire being.

"Hmmmmmm somethinglikethat." Ed quickly confirmed in his best attempt to seem casual about it.

"Oh, Ed," Stede smiled fondly, "it's quite alright to be ticklish. Almost everyone is somewhere!"

Stede playfully gave Ed's tummy a quick scribble and Ed jumped again with a little squeak.

"Stede!"

"Alright, I'm sorry," Stede smiled in apology and pulled his hand back, "I won't do it again."

Stede shifted and stood from his kneeled spot next to Ed on the couch, grabbing the bowl of soapy water and the makeshift rags he used to clean Ed's wound. He began to make his way to the ship's washroom, but Ed's voice stopped him.

"Stede…"

Stede turned back around to look at Ed still laying on the couch.

"Yes, Ed?"

Ed didn't know how to say it. He felt like he physically couldn't. He wanted to curl up into a ball of embarrassment and be swallowed by the couch. But Ed wanted it, and knew Stede would stay true to his word unless he said something.

Ed opened his mouth to speak words, but when nothing initially came out, he sighed and brought his hands up to hide his face.

"I…don't want you to….not."

Ed could hear the slow, confused footsteps of Stede coming back to his form on the couch.

"You don't want me to not….what?"

Letting out a huff, Ed squirmed in his spot on the couch. He was hoping that'd be enough for Stede to get the hint. Goddammit.

"I don't want you to…not…t-...." Ed cleared his throat again and took a breath, "....tickle."

The footsteps stopped and it was quiet for a few seconds, but to Ed, it felt like a lifetime.

"Ed," Stede said softly, "do you want me to tickle you?"

Ed made a noise behind his hands and brought his knees up before letting them drop down to the couch again and then gave a small, hesitant nod.

Hearing the footsteps walk towards him again, Ed felt Stede's presence settle next to him with the dip of the couch cushion as Stede sat himself on the edge next to Ed's legs.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Ed. Why, I happen to think it's actually quite fun!"

At that, Ed shifted some of his fingers to take a peek at Stede and was met with an expression so sweet and genuine that he could hardly stand it. He let out a little whine and moved his fingers back to fully hide again.

Stede giggled, thinking Ed looked absolutely adorable, and brought his hands to hover over Ed's still exposed belly, letting his finger tips just barely graze the skin. Ed's body stiffened in anticipation underneath him.

"And of course I'll tickle you."

Stede started to lightly wiggle his fingers against Ed's tummy and Ed squeaked, his back arching up for a moment before falling back to the couch. He began squirming back and forth, a flood of giggles starting to stream from his lips. The skitter of Stede's fingers on his bare skin felt like tingling, electric sparkles and oh was it a fun feeling. And the fact that it was consensually deliberate, that Stede was wanting to do this with him, made every sensation that much more sweet.

Sweeping and spidering his quick, light fingers all around Ed's belly, Stede was beginning to giggle himself, the act of tickling Ed bringing him so much joy.

Suddenly, Stede darted his hands down to test a few quick squeezes on Ed's hips and was rewarded with a surprised squeal.

Ed's hands shot down from his face and he lurched forward, his reflexes instinctively making him grab at Stede's wrists to pull them away.

Stede stopped instantly and let Ed take a breath.

"Is that spot too much, Ed?" Stede asked sincerely.

Ed paused and let go of Stede's wrists. "Um…no, not too much…just tickled a lot...but in a fun way."

A smug look made it's way onto Stede's face.

"Hmm. How about a game then?" Stede gently pushed down on Ed's shoulders to lead him back to his laying position on the couch. He then cupped his hands around Ed's elbows and maneuvered his arms above his head before letting go and sitting back. Stede smirked.

"Keep your arms up, Ed."

Ed's eyes went wide and he bit his bottom lip, already fighting back more giggles at those words.

"Mmmhmmhmm, and…what if I can't?"

Stede raised his eyebrows and wiggled his fingers. "I think we both know the answer."

That made Ed pull his hands down to hide his face again when, "Shit!," he put them back up above his head. 

Stede laughed. "Trying to lose already, Ed?"

"Nohohohooo…"

"Don't worry, there are plenty of tickles to come."

Stede started again slowly, following a circling pattern around Ed's tummy, letting his fingers wander around the curve of Ed's sides and up across his ribs.

As the ticklish sensation kept building, Ed was fighting his arms from trying to come down and interfere. He truly didn't want to interfere, but this game was proving already to be quite difficult.

But then again, maybe he did want to lose to see what Stede's punishment for him would be…

Stede's voice snapped him back from his own inner battle. "I can see you're trying so hard for me, Ed," Stede let out a little mischievous chuckle, "but shall we up the intensity a bit?" His fingers now started to quickly skitter around Ed's torso, jumping around from spot to spot, with the occasional surprise armpit tickle that made Ed's arms jump down halfway before managing to bring them back up again.

Squirming around with more vigor, Ed felt like he was being electrocuted with tickles, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his arms up as the zipping sensations coursed through his body. Ed's laughter was freely pouring out of him and it was wind in Stede's sails.

"Now, Ed, what was it that I did before that made you squeal? Hmm…," Stede continued his tickling as he pretended to think, "Was it this?" He jumped his hands to Ed's underarms and gave the centers a quick taser with his fingers.

Ed squawked and his arms jumped down again, but just as quick as Stede's hands were there, they were off to the next spot and Ed brought his arms back up and gripped the pillow sitting against the arm of the couch for dear life, bracing himself.

A squeeze to his ribs.

"This?"

A vibrating, clawed hand to his belly.

"Or was it this?"

Pokes going up and down his sides.

"Was it here?"

Ed was about to combust. All the various changes of tickles and sudden movements from spot to spot and the smug teasing had him faltering, his grip on the pillow going white-knuckled.

"Ah! I remember!" Stede, in his utter delight, didn't wait another second before jumping back down to squeeze at the junction where lower tummy met hips.

A high pitched squeal rang through the air as Ed's arms came crashing down, pillow still in hand, and it smacked Stede in the face.

There was a sudden still and quiet in the room. Ed looked at Stede with wide eyes realizing what he had done, and the eyes that looked back at him with rising eyebrows told him one thing: he was in trouble.

"Now, Edward…" Stede began, and just those words alone already sent Ed into a giggling, playful beg.

"Stehehede! Nohoho, it was an accidehehent, I promise!"

Stede narrowed his eyes, teasingly skeptical. "Mmhmm, I don’t know Ed. I think I see your nose growing." He grabbed the pillow out of Ed's grip and flung it across the room in a display of joking outrage. "This definitely calls for punishment!"

Shifting from his place at Ed's legs, Stede flipped himself around so that he was sitting on Ed's chest. Placing his hands back on Ed's hips, he began to repetitively squeeze.

Ed went ballistic. His legs were flailing about, unable to do anything about the shocking jolts that had taken full control of his body. He tried to arch his back, but with Stede's weight now on his upper body keeping him in place, he couldn't do much else besides push at Stede’s back with his hands. The way Ed couldn't even see Stede's ticklish movements seemed to make it even worse.

"Fuhuhuck!! This isn't fahahahair!"

"I don't know, Ed, this seems perfectly fair to me! It's not my fault you're so adorably ticklish."

Shit, Stede's teasing was getting to him so badly, and paired with the insanely tickly pulses ruminating into his bones, Ed was in tickle Hell (Heaven.) His eyes squeezed shut as his bubbly shrieks got higher and higher in pitch with every evilly calculated pinch at his hips and it wasn't long before he was in full hysterics.

"Steheheheede! Nononono nahahahaha! Shihihit!! I'm sorryyyy!"

And just like that, everything stopped. Ed's legs slumped back down to the couch as Stede's weight lifted from his chest and was replaced with a gentle hand rubbing up and down his side.

Ed's remaining giggles continued to filter out past his lips as his chest heaved in order to catch his breath. He slowly started to come back down to earth and opened his eyes to see a softly smiling Stede looking down at him.

"How are you feeling, Ed?"

"Hmhmhmhmmm, you're mehehean."

"Oh? Is that right?"

Ed nodded.

"Well," Stede continued, "just know there's more to come. That was just punishment for hitting me with the pillow. I haven't given you your punishment for bringing your arms down…"

Ed's eyes went wide.

Stede chucked. "And I'm going to have to keep checking and cleaning your wound…that is, if you'd let me?"

Ed looked directly into Stede's eyes and was met with a hopeful, questioning stare. This caused a new flush to rise to Ed's cheeks and his heart fluttered. Knowing that Stede was wanting, and was essentially asking, to tickle him more had his insides vibrating and he was filled to the brim with a childlike glee.

Ed excitedly squirmed under Stede's gaze. "Hmhmhm um…might have to check it frequently…just to be sure."

Stede beamed. "Of course, Ed." He then stopped his hand rubbing Ed's side and gave him a couple pats on his tummy. "How about we go and have a nice cup of evening tea and relax for a bit, hmm? Then we can take care of your other punishment later tonight…and, mayhaps, I can look at that knee of yours..." Stede winked.

Oh, Ed couldn't wait.

[fanficsandfluff]

Squealing Santa 2k22

A/N: Ty to our host @squealing-santa (this year @hypahticklish) and anyone else involved in making this a tradition every holiday season. It's always a tough spot to be put in to not be able to write someone's first choice of fandom characters, but I hope this compromise was worth it. It was especially hard for me to obtain inspiration for this fic, but still, I hope it doesn't come off that way.

Happy Holidays, @6phantom6angel6 !

Fandom: DC Comics

Characters: Bruce Wayne (Batman) x Clark Kent (Superman)

Their sleeping habits were about what you'd expect from the Dark Knight and the Man of Steel. One spent his nights awake and fighting crime, so Bruce tended to sleep in. Clark was the one with the day job and normal nine to five working hours, so he was up at a reasonable morning hour. He also grew up on a farm where the roosters woke him up at the crack of dawn, so yeah, one could say Clark was a morning person.

And often Clark would wake before Bruce and lay in bed an hour extra just to see if he could be there when Bruce would naturally wake. Most of the time, he got too restless and couldn't wait it out, having to get up and make himself coffee. On the rare occasions where he did catch Bruce waking, he'd test that mood of the Batman's. Was he in the mood for Clark to be a cuddle bug? Did he want morning sex? Did he just want to lay there and not speak?

Today was one of those 'lay there' mornings. There was snow outside, as the wintertime air had chilled the entire manor. The chill, Clark would blame, caused him to snuggle close to Bruce overnight. But now he was laying there, apart from Bruce but head tilted on the pillow to watch the man closely. His breathing pattern had changed, Clark could pick up, so he was no longer asleep. It was almost like the man was feigning sleep so he wouldn't have to interact, laying there motionless as can be.

Clark slid a hand over under the covers and scratched at the base of Bruce's spine to give him a 'hello, I'm here' message. He felt Bruce's back arch in the opposite direction of his fingers and a small huff of air come from the man. Next, Bruce rolled over onto his stomach completely and stuffed his hands under the pillow beneath his head.

Clark smiled softly, now turning fully onto his side to face Bruce. The hand that slunk under the covers to reach his partner's side remained there and slid back up Bruce's back, now rubbing it. He felt Bruce tense at first and then sink further into his expensive sheets. Clark could never tell the difference and that always boggled Bruce's mind. You could melt into this cotton-silk hybrid by sight, he'd always say to him. Clark never cared much for the fancy things of human life, anyway.

The Kryptonian curled his fingers against the fabric of Bruce's shirt and dragged them up from the bit of fat and muscle by his neck, straight down his spine back to the base of his back. Bruce tried so hard not to jolt, and Clark caught every twitch.

"Feeling ticklish this morning?"

Those were the first words to leave Clark's mouth all morning, breaking their shared, sleepy silence for them. And hey, he was proud of it. He watched Bruce bury his face into his pillow and sigh, not giving him a verbal response. Typical.

Clark smiled and he scooted himself closer to Bruce's very prone, very open body. He didn't like so much that Bruce was wearing a shirt to bed lately. He was normally shirtless, but the winter cold that blew in had forced him to take on extra layers. Once the superpowered man was right beside Bruce, he wrapped his arm around Bruce's back fully and gingerly set all five fingertips against Bruce's side.

"Don't-"

-- Was all that came out of Bruce's sleepy state and gravelly voice before he grunted when Clark dug in sharply to those pinpointed areas. The arms under his head twitched down and his elbows neared his own sides.

"Why not? I like it when you're like this," Clark teased. His thick arm remained fastened like a belt across Bruce's back, but now he traced those fingertips up, up, up, until he threaded his hand and arm through Bruce's still raised one. And Clark pulled back only a fraction to have Bruce prone before him with no effort on his part. Clark's chest was in contact with Bruce's back and he had Bruce's right arm pinned beneath their melded bodies, and the other he was keeping still in its naturally raised position with his free hand. They were also partially laying on their sides now, so Bruce wasn't flush against the mattress.

"Clark," Bruce warned because, oh yeah, Clark recognized his warning voice, all right. But he was in a cuddly state this morning that couldn't be quashed by Bruce's 'don't touch me' state.

"Good morning," was the response Superman gave to his Batman.

Clark hooked that arm tight and grabbed Bruce's other arm, creating an arm brace and handcuff all in one. Now he had his one hand completely occupied pinning his partner, but the other was free and limber and ready to deliver some tickles.

Clark positioned said hand at the dip in Bruce's side and that hand went under the loose-fitting shirt. Bruce's breath hitched. Clark gently wiggled his fingers against that sweet little dip in the side and he felt Bruce's bare heel collide into his shin and strain on his arm bond. But Clark was using his super strength and no way was Bruce going to get out of the hold until Clark was good and ready to release him.

But Bruce wasn't laughing, Clark noticed. Just huffing and grunting and squirming. He wasn't worried, he'd get him soon enough. Bruce wasn't one to outright belly laugh, even with friends. Even with provocation, as it turned out.

Clark applied more pressure and he scratched his fingers up to Bruce's ribcage, getting to the low ribs first and tickling his way up top. Up and down he went a few times. Bruce broke here, a quick burst of a laugh coming when Clark stuck his thumb just so under his bottommost rib and vibrated it there.

"Fuck," he heard Bruce curse.

Clark smiled, "My, you're cranky today.."

"I w-wonder why."

"You're a piece of work," Clark smirked and he lifted his hand off Bruce's body. Bruce was forced to watch as Clark brought his hand up near his face and then dropped it slightly down again, touching the bare tricep with silky soft skin. Skin without scars or callouses like much of the rest of his body. Which made it extra sensitive. Clark ghosted his fingertips onto this skin, knowing exactly what to do to make Bruce want to crawl out of his skin.

There they lay, flicking and caressing that tender, pale skin right above his armpit.

Bruce tried hiding his face into his raised arm, either of them the more he tried. He just needed to muffle the laughs that were sure to come from him soon. He let out small giggles and huffs of breath when they would come so close to bursting into full-blown laughter, so he'd have to let it out in small bits to avoid that embarrassing scene.

"Sensitive, sensitive," Clark whispered into Bruce's ear. Well that didn't help, the big jerk.

Clark had his hand poised in such a way that Bruce could not see where his hand was, just being able to feel the fingers when they'd make contact. Thank god Clark didn't keep his fingernails long or this would be unbearable. Or so Bruce thought, because the torment was soon turning unbearable anyway.

"Let's see what we've got under here..." Clark mused, just as Bruce whined,

"No!"

Thick, calculated fingers slithered beneath the already loose short sleeve of Bruce's shirt and wiggled against the very exposed armpit. Clark's fingers were barely even tickling the hair hidden beneath the shirt at this spot before Bruce was laughing.

Clark smiled wide behind Bruce's head, tilting his back to avoid being headbutted in the nose. It wouldn't have hurt him, but he didn't want to end up leaving Bruce with a bump on the back of his head from the impact.

Clark's devious fingers did not cease their wiggles and skitters and spidering, right in the hollow with equally soft skin as the tricep. Once you'd get past the hair, it was soft. Bruce was laughing, hard. Clark loved it, he loved every second of this. To get the usually ornery man in a vulnerable position like this was a rare opportunity, and could only happen if he was waking from a slumber.

One finger in this spot was enough to rip a snort from Bruce's lips and Clark had to chuckle into the back of Bruce's neck. He removed his fingers from the armpit skin and resumed their tickling on the shirt covering the area. This did not seem to affect Bruce's reactions in the slightest. Clark stroked from Bruce's highest rib, all the way up past the armpit and tricep to the inside of his elbow, before wiggling back down. He liked the up and down patterns, as they kept the laughs coming from Bruce and it was exciting for him to administer.

Clark stopped tickling Bruce for a few seconds to let him relax before he let his arms free from their bond. Bruce lowered them completely and hunched himself over, pushing at Clark with his butt and back with the motion.

"You awake?"

"Been awake, Clark, thanks for checking."

Clark grinned and he leaned over to kiss the back of Bruce's head. The man was adorable in the mornings, when he shouldn't have been awake, when he was all Clark's to toy with.

[ragewerthers]

Mission: Yuletide

Summary: While decorating the house for Christmas, Loid and Yor discuss some of their childhood holiday traditions. When Loid mentions trying to make the season extra special by dressing up as Santa for Anya, Yor decides Loid may need to practice on one very important laugh.

A/n: Merry Christmas @soft-tk-fluff!!! 😊 I'm your secret santa this year and I hope that you enjoy this Spy X Family fic! Hopefully it brings you some holiday laughs and you can enjoy their shenanigans and all the fluff they deserve! And I'd also like to thank @hypahticklish for hosting this wonderful event this year and for making things run smoothly and checking in on us! Merry Christmas to you too, my friend!

Word Count: 2414

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

The enticing scent of cinnamon, brown sugar and peppermint was already starting to permeate the apartment from the cookies and cocoa Loid had set out on the kitchen table.

Operation: Yuletide was finally commencing and Loid knew that he wanted… no… he needed everything to be perfect.  Creating Christmas magic for his family would definitely help keep everyone happy and thus would keep his other endeavor, Operation Strix, safely on track.

“Loid-san can you pass me some of the candy canes?” Yor asked, drawing Loid from his thoughts as he stood in front of the newly erected Christmas tree.

“Oh!  Of course.  Here.  I got both Spearmint and Peppermint ones,” he offered with a soft smile, passing the boxes over to her and watching her eyes light up at the sight of the candy.

“Miss Anya is going to love them!  She was just telling me yesterday how much she was looking forward to helping decorate the Christmas tree tonight!” Yor said gently, setting the boxes of candy canes next to the tote of baubles, tinsel and lights nearby.

While Anya was away at school finishing up before Christmas break, Loid had decided it wouldn’t hurt to get started decorating the apartment with Yor.  It would also allow him to gauge her own feelings on the holiday and ensure she too was feeling that merry Christmas spirit he was looking to bring out in everyone. “DId you and your brother enjoy decorating when you were younger?” Loid asked offhandedly as Yor moved away from the Christmas tree ornaments to start hanging garland on the mantle around their family pictures.

“Oh yes!  It was always one of the best times!  We would put Christmas music on the radio, decorate the house and when we were done I’d sit down with Yuri and we’d write our letters to Santa.  That was always the most amusing part.  He’d get so nervous trying to figure out what to ask for!” she chuckled, turning to face Loid.  “What about yourself?  Have you always been one full of Christmas spirit?”

Loid gave a small smile at the question, trying to figure out how best to answer.

“Christmas has always been special to me in some way.  When I was younger I was like your brother.  I was always excited to write my letter to Santa, but I never quite knew how to compose it.  I didn’t want to seem like I was asking for too much… or like I was demanding things from him lest I get nothing but coal in my stocking.”

Yor laughed at this and shook her head.  “Well what about Miss Anya?  What are her thoughts on Santa Claus?”

Loid looked over at the envelope on the kitchen table that contained a single piece of paper that Anya had furiously been scribbling on for the better part of two days to get ‘just right’ in her own words.

“Judging by the intensity with which she wrote out her Christmas wish list, I’d say that she is firmly in the same camp as your brother and I.  Trying to find just the right words to not upset Santa,” he said with a little chuckle before shaking his head.  “But hopefully, even if she doesn’t get everything on her list, I can still make sure that this is a good Christmas for her.”

Yor’s smile grew at that and she nodded.  “I’d love to make this Christmas especially lovely for her too!  What are you planning?”

“Well… you know how we were talking about our memories of writing to Santa?  What if we took it a step further and Santa came for a visit?” he asked, the idea bouncing around in his head as he tried to plan the most effective way to bring holiday cheer.

“Oh?  You hired a professional Santa?!” Yor asked, her excitement almost palpable.  The sheer joy she seemed to be feeling only bolstered Loid’s confidence in this idea.

“No, no!  I was thinking that I could definitely pull off being Santa,” he said with a little nod, his mind already making plans on how to craft this newest idea.  He wasn’t a master of disguise for nothing and surely this would be a pinnacle for him to pull off.

However, before he could finish trying to figure out whether Santa’s gloves should be red, leather or white, his mental gymnastics were paused when he heard a little snort followed by soft giggling.

Looking over, Loid saw Yor with her head turned away from him, shoulders shaking in mirth.

“What?  What’s so funny?” he asked, both curious and perhaps a little offended.

“I… I’m so sorry, Loid-san!” she continued to giggle, wiping away a few tears of laughter.  “It’s just… there is no way you could be Santa!”

Loid actually gasped at such an accusation, his pride taking a small hit considering he was truly a genius in this particular field.

And that wasn’t hubris, that was FACT with actual results to back him up!

To be fair she had no idea of his disguise genius, but still!  The audacity!  The unmitigated gall! “I could be a great Santa!” he retorted, trying his best to not let his hurt feelings show.

Yor smiled gently at that and moved closer, a playful look on her face.  “Is that right?  How are you planning on getting a believable white beard, hmm?  And have you worked on the Santa laugh?  What about getting a belly like a bowl full of jelly?” she asked, moving to give his stomach a playful little poke.

Loid had been so focused on trying to figure out how to rebut her questions that he hadn’t been prepared for the innocent touch and thus couldn’t stop the little jolt and small huff that left him as he took a step back from the contact.

Everything in the apartment seemed to go still at that moment.

Yor’s hand was still extended and Loid could only stand there with eyes wide as his hand covered his poor stomach.

“Loid-san…”

“No.”

“But I think…”

“It’s not what you think.” “It’s better than what I think,” Yor teased, the playfulness only growing in her smile as her tone turned mischievous.  “I think I know how to help you, Loid!  I’m gonna make sure that you’ve got that Santa laugh down to a T!”

Loid could feel his heart rate start to speed up as he heard that and took a step back, then another as Yor’s eyes followed him.  Let it never be said that Agent Twilight wasn’t a brave man.  But even he had his limits to standing his ground.  

“Yor!  Yor… listen to me!” he tried to barter, watching as she slowly began to move closer and closer, her eyes instantly becoming laser focused on him.  “Y-You know… maybe a… um… a professional Santa would be per-NO!  STAY BACK!”

In a flash Yor had sprang into action and began to give chase, giving Loid only a second to turn on his heel to flee.

Thank god for his increased reflexes or she would’ve nabbed him from the start!

“Loid!  I’m only trying to help!” Yor chastised playfully as he made it around the kitchen table to put some space between them.

“I don’t need any help!  And how would this be helping?!” he asked, his eyes glancing around the room to find the perfect exit or a way to distract the woman now intent on making him a target! “The one thing that stands out about Santa the most is his laugh, Loid-san!” Yor argued lightly.  “So to make sure Miss Anya is completely positive that you are the true blue Santa we have to make your laugh perfect!  Besides, you don’t get near enough practice.  I don’t think I’ve ever really heard you laugh.”

“That’s nonsense!  Of course I’ve laughed before!  And I don’t think anyone can practice a la-NO!”

Once more, Yor was giving chase and somehow, Loid felt slower than before!  How was she so fast?!

The only chance of survival he saw was to make a mad dash for his room, but sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.

Before he could process what was happening, he found himself almost instantly rugby tackled onto his stomach on the living room sofa.  The force wasn’t as harsh as the time they’d fought for Anya in the castle, but it was still enough to momentarily shock him.

“Now, let's see how we can help our dear Loid-san!” Yor chirped above him, settling herself easily on his back as Loid attempted to wriggle his way free.

“Yor!  You really don’t have to d-do thihihis!  Ah!” Loid choked out, feeling her fingers gently skittering along his sides and instantly making him draw his arms close against himself. “What?  What was that, Loid?  Did you say something?” Yor asked, her fingers slowly starting to spider upward toward his lower ribs and making the secret agent snort against the couch cushions where he was trying to hide his face.

“N-no!  Nothihihing!” he squeaked out, already starting to feel his composure crack as Yor’s fingers continued to wriggle and circle against his lowest ribs.  Little ticklish, electric currently zipping up his spine with each brush of her fingers.

How could he have gone through so much training in interrogation, but all it was taking was a few soft, tickly touches to completely break him?!

“Uh oh!  I think I heard a little giggle in there!” Yor teased and Loid could instantly hear the fiendish older sister she probably used to be to poor Yuri. He felt a bit more sympathy for the man now.

Loid opened his mouth to try and say something eloquent enough to get him free of this debacle, but that seemed to be the opening that Yor had been waiting for. In a flash her fingers shot back down to Loids sides, her hands wiggling just slightly between him and the sofa to allow instant access to the sides of his stomach.

And Loid couldn’t hold back any longer.

“NO!  Y-Yor plehehehehease!  Stahahahahap hehehelping!” he cackled brightly, the laughter easily breaking free of his chest as he felt her fingers vibrating quickly against his poor stomach.

“There it is!  Oh Loid your laughter is so sweet!” Yor cooed above him.

Loid could feel his cheeks starting to burn almost as brightly as his blushing ears and shook his head, shimmying back and forth to try and get her tickling fingers to cease their attack.

“No it’s nahahahat!” he tried to argue through his laughter, taking a deep breath and reaching out for the arm of the sofa to try and pull himself to safety.

A horrible mistake that his tickle addled brain didn’t quite recognize until it was too late.

In a flash, Yor had moved one of her hands up and quickly began fluttering her nails right in the center of Loids exposed underarm.

The rather uncharacteristic shriek that escaped him was something he would deny until the day he died.

Unbeknownst to Yor, and something Loid had himself forgotten, was that he was horribly ticklish there and now he was paying for his earlier escape attempt.

Quickly retracting his arm, he only managed to keep her hand snuggly caught there as she continued to flutter and spider her fingers quickly against his most ticklish spot, sending the poor agent into absolute hysterics.

“NOHOHO!  I CAHAHAHAHAlN’T!  YOAHAHAHAHAR!” Loid laughed loudly, his legs kicking out behind him as Yor stayed firmly seated on his back.

“Oh Loid you were so close!  It’s ‘ho ho ho’, not ‘no no no’,” Yor teased, moving the fingers of her untrapped hand down to squeeze along his hip and make Loid snort at the newest sensation.  

“I cahahahahan’t!  I cahahan’t do ihihihihit!  I y-yeieheheheheheld!  Unhuhuhuncle!” Loid squeaked out, voice pitched higher in his laughter.

And just as quickly as the attack had happened he felt Yor’s fingers stopping their tickle attack, his body still tingling from the sensations causing him to remain in a fit of hysterical giggling.

“Oh!  Loid-san!  I-I’m so sorry!  I hope I didn’t go too far!” he heard Yor’s soft voice stuttering slightly from above him.

Shaking his head slightly he gave a tired wave of his hand as a smile still remained upon his own lips because even if she had been ruthless… did he dare think that there had been something slightly fun about all of this?

“I-It’s fine.  I promise,” he panted softly, still feeling the blush on his cheeks as he rested his face against the cool part of the sofa cushion. “A-are you sure, Loid-san?  I could get you water!  Or a cookie?  Would a cookie help?!” Yor asked, quickly getting up and rushing over to the plate of cookies that still rested on the kitchen table from earlier. Loid gave another little snort and couldn’t help laughing again as he slowly sat up.

“I promise, it’s alright, Yor.  That was… fun,” he said gently as she returned with said cookie, a soft blush on her cheeks as she sat down next to him. Seeing that she was still feeling flustered, Loid felt his expression soften as he reached over and plucked the cookie carefully from her hands.  “And… I think you really did help me find my perfect Santa laugh.  Here, what do you think?” he asked, clearing his throat and holding the cookie aloft like Hamlet would in a great Shakespearean play.  “Ho ho ho!  Merry Christmas!” he said with as much vibrato and gusto as he could. Yor instantly brought her hands up to cover her mouth, giggling softly into them at Loids ridiculous display and instantly coming back into her more relaxed state.

“Oh yes, Loid-san,” Yor said brightly as she lowered her hands, smiling softly at the agent and making Loids heart feel like it was growing three sizes bigger.  “I think you will definitely bring Miss Anya all the extra holiday spirit with your impersonation of Santa!”

Loid smiled brightly at that and nodded his appreciation, taking a bite of his Christmas cookie.

Operation: Yuletide was definitely going to be a success… but perhaps the best part of the whole plan was now knowing that even though this was for a wider cause, he was still going to bring joy to two people he cared so deeply about.

Two people who definitely deserved to feel the joy, wonder and happiness of the Christmas spirit.

[galacticlee3]

Mario… Something?

(Lee!Leviathan, Ler!Reader; Obey Me! Shall We Date?)

A gift for the lovely @altheadajoysoul for Squealing Santa 2k22! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and again thank you so much for hosting this year, Hypah!

Summary: Levi has something special to give you, something that brings back childhood nostalgia and helps you make a precious memory with the demon. Can either be interpreted as platonic or romantic.

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 1.4k

Levi-chan

MC, do you have time to come to my room? I have something for you.

You

I have some free time, yeah. What is it?

Levi-chan

It’s a surprise :)

You

Alright, coming!

Levi shut off his phone, looking down at the wrapped gift sitting on his manga shelf. He wanted it to come in by Christmas so you could open it with bright eyes in front of his brothers, your smile as much of a gift to him as it was to them. But unfortunately, the shipping was delayed due to the high influx of travel from the human world to the Devildom, so he had to make you wait. He heard you running down the hallway above his room, a screech followed by muffled apologies telling him you’d knocked into one of his brothers on your way.

As your footsteps got closer and came to an abrupt stop, he brushed off his hoodie and messed with his hair, looking at Henry 2.0 in the tank. “Nothing to be nervous about, they’ll love it,” he reassured himself, getting pulled out of his head when two soft knocks sounded at his door. “Coming!” He called, taking a deep breath and opening the door a crack. You smiled at him, a little out of breath from your speedy trip, and he almost melted right then and there. Determined to keep his cool, Levi beckoned you inside, hoping you wouldn’t be able to see his rising blush in the dark.

He motioned for you to sit down on the couch while he walked over to the bookshelf. “I know you already got something from me for Christmas but this is your real present. It took a bit to get here, but I wanted to give it to you as soon as I got it,” he scratched the back of his neck, sitting in front of you criss-crossing his legs. Levi shyly bowed his head and held the gift up to you, a heavy silver box with purple ribbon tied in a haphazard bow.

“Oh, Levi! Please tell me you didn’t splurge, I love the Ruri-chan blanket you got me already,” you looked down at him, both grateful but also a bit taken aback. Levi shook his head, pushing the gift onto your lap gently. “I-its not splurging if it’s for you, MC,” he whispered sincerely, tail twitching nervously at his side, “Please, open it, for me?”

You nodded your head, gingerly pulling at the ribbon and opening the box. You gasped when you saw what was inside. A white Wii console, two controllers, and a few games were carefully packed with a little note that read Merry Christmas, MC.

“How did you- they don’t make these anymore!” You gasped with wide eyes, unable to keep a wide smile off your face. You had told Levi about your childhood Wii console a while back, the fun you had losing yourself in your favorite games, which were all stowed away inside the box. “I wanted to make you more at home here, you looked really happy when you told me about these, especially… what was it.. Mario, something?”

“MARIO KART!” You clapped your hands and fished it out of the box, hugging it to your chest. “Levi, will you play it with me? I can’t wait to smoke you,” you giggled as he got a competitive glint in his eyes. You loved when you two hung out and gamed, you could tell he felt more confident and you liked spending time with him doing something you both enjoyed.

“Just because I’ve never played it before doesn’t mean you’re going to beat me, in fact, I would be surprised if you did,” he stuck up his nose, taking the box from you and grabbing the correct outlet adapter from his box in the corner. “Wait there, I’ll get it booted up.” He plugged in the Wii and connected it to the large TV in front of you, the nostalgia coming on in waves hearing the starting sounds.

You and Levi spent a few minutes making Miis of each other, sad that there weren’t any purple hairstyle options for him, but having fun anyway making your little characters run around. After a few minutes, you inserted the disc and readied your controllers, teaching Levi the controls and having a few practice laps. “Okay, do you think you’re ready to play for real now?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him where he was sitting across from you.

“I think I have the hang of it now, in fact, I know I’m going to win. A simple racing game? Child’s play, literally.”

“Oh? Then how about we raise the stakes? The loser…” You zoned out in thought, before a mischievous grin made its way onto your lips. “The loser gets wrecked by the winner!”

Levi’s cheeks bloomed an adorable shade of red, for he knew exactly what you meant by “wrecked”. The loser would be tickled by the winner, something he knew you both didn’t mind very much. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t incredibly flustered by it, something you knew, and were planning to take advantage of during the round. Was it cheating? Maaaaaaybe, but you also wanted to hear his precious laugh, something he didn’t share often.

He shook his head, trying to distract himself from the ghost tickles starting to creep up his back. “You’re on, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Levi taunted, trying to hide his growing blush and flustered state.

His Yoshi and your Waluigi drove up to the starting line, buzzing with energy. “3…2…1…go!” You chant along with the screen, blasting off with the CPUs. Levi was not too far behind you, tongue sticking out in concentration. You decided he was too cute not to mess with.

“Y’know Levi, I bet you’ll barely be able to hold back your laughter when I get those sides of yours,” you chirped, keeping your eyes on the screen. You saw Yoshi waver and almost drive off the track, not expecting distractions, let alone teasing from you. He was almost silent, tail swishing behind you unbeknownst to him.

“You get all squeaky when I get near your ears, how do you think you’ll fare now? Asmo did my nails yesterday so they’ll be extra tickly~”

“MC! This is cheating!” He was climbing up the ranks, a place behind you, but he was curling into himself which threw off his game.

“I’m not doing anything, just making some conversation!”

“Can we change the topic?” He said meekly, trying to keep his cool. He came up to you, trying to knock into Waluigi’s car. You knew it was time to pull out the big guns.

“Hmmm. Fine, I want to talk about how adorable your laugh is, it’s contagious and it always makes me want to hug you for being so gosh darn cute!”

Levi lost grip on his controller, letting it go in favor of covering his face with his hands. His ears were pink now, and he was quietly whining in protest of your statements. “Why do you always do this MC… saying things that aren’t true,” he groaned into his palms, refusing to show you the fiery flush on his cheeks. You scoot over and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “You might not think it is, but I do. I find you charming, cute, but most of all someone dear to me,” you whispered, rubbing his back. Levi peeked out of his fingers, sighing, but a big smile broke out onto his face. “Thank you,” he peeped, glancing down at the controller. The one that he dropped. With wide eyes, Levi turned to the TV which displayed a cheering Waluigi in first place.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want,” you said quickly, letting him know there was an out. But he shook his head, still embarrassed to the nines. “You won, I l-lost, fair and square,” Levi reasoned, chest filled with nervous excitement. “What kind of demon would I be if I couldn’t take it?”

With that, you pounced on him, hands squeezing up and down his sides, giggling along with his airy laughter that you loved so much. His tail was thumping away on the couch, letting you know he was enjoying it as much as you were. You two spent the rest of the afternoon like that, gaming and reveling in each other’s stories and laughter. For you both, it was a perfect day with your best friend.

[bloominggiggles]

A Bard’s Best Melody

Hohohoh! Hello @switchylesbian ! I am your Squealing Secret Santa this year, and I hope you like my gift!

Fandom: The Owl House

Pairing: Eda x Raine

Warnings: None other than this is a pure fluff tickle fic!

══════════════════ ⟮✿⟯ ═════════════════  

It was another peaceful day in the Boiling Isles.

After the third and last defeat of Belos along with The Collector, the Realm has finally entered a life of peace.

The witches that had been locked up due to the use of wild magic were freed, and everyone could finally learn as many types of magic as they wished.

Eda and Raine are relaxing and cuddling on the couch, watching a movie on the crystal ball.

Hooty had left the house with Lilith on his small house backpack, and the kids were hanging out around the Isles.It was a rare opportunity for them to relax without any disruptions.

With Raine resting on top of her, their head on her chest, Eda absent-mindedly moved her hand from their mint-green locks to their side, her thumb caressing it over their clothes, making the bard jump with a squeak 

There’s a moment of silence between them, with Raine slowly moving their head to look at the owl lady, only to feel their blood running cold when they see the smirk on her face.

‘‘Rainstorm~ what was that~?’‘

She asks, a teasing tone the other witch knew all too well, sending a shiver down their spine.

‘‘I-I don’t know what you are t-talking about!’‘

They say, looking away, feeling the heat rise to their cheeks and nose, hoping Eda wouldn’t notice.

But of course she did.

‘‘Don’t tell me you are still as ticklish as when we were kids?!’‘

She exclaims, her amusement clear in her golden eyes and grin.

‘‘N-No, I am not-!’‘

The bard’s words get interrupted by another squeak when Eda’s slender fingers poke at their side, this time with more pressure, making them sit up and hug their sides.

‘‘You are an awful liar, Raine Whispers~’‘

She teases, and the shorter witch blushes even more.

‘‘E-Eda! Don’t you dahahare!’‘

They try to sound serious, but end up giggling nervously with anticipation seeing their childhood friend wiggle her fingers, a smirk on her face and a playful yet dangerous glint in her eyes.

Before she can start her attack, the bard would jump off the couch and start running, with the owl lady laughing behind them.

‘I’m going to get you, Rainstorm~!’‘

‘‘I’m w-warning you, Eheheda!’‘

Raine exclaims, hearing her footsteps approaching faster than they’d like as they run across the hallway.

When the bard is sure that they are about to get caught, they enter a room and hurry to close the door, only for it to be stopped by a pale hand that quickly opens it, revealing the taller witch with a grin the other knew all too well.

‘’Got you~!’’

She says, watching with amusement her lover go tense and wide eyed, stepping back with that nervous, crooked smile she always found adorable.

‘‘E-Eda, let’s talk about t-this...!’‘

They say, taking a step back for each step the owl lady takes closer to them.

‘‘What’s there to talk about? I just want to tickle you~!’‘

‘‘T-That’s exactly what we n-need to-!’‘

Before they can finish their sentence, the bard would fall back with a surprised yelp, blinking for a moment, only to realize they fell into Eda’s nest.

Before they can properly process the situation they are in, Eda is already on top of them, her fingers tickling their sides and going up their ribs, then back to their sides once more, causing them to burst into giggles.

‘‘E-Edahahah!’‘

‘‘There we go~! You really are just as ticklish as back then, Rainstorm~!’‘

‘‘S-Stohohohop!’‘

The bard protests, their face and ears going red both from their giggles and the taller witch’s teasing.

‘‘Oh, this reminds me of the old days! Remember when I would tickle you like this to help you relax before a performance, Raine~?’‘

Eda keeps teasing her lover, who can only giggle and squirm while trying to protect their sides and ribs with their arms.

‘‘I-I dohohoh-!’‘

‘‘Oh, but if I remember correctly, one of your worst spots was actually...’‘

Trailing off without finishing her sentence, the owl lady would move one of her hands from the shorter witch’s side to their red ear, yellow painted nails gently tickling it, making them squeal and their giggles to turn into laughter, their head moving from side to side in an attempt to get protection.

‘‘N-Nohohohot thEHEHERE! EDAHAHA!’‘

Raine protests, squirming as best as they could with their lover sitting on their legs.

Eda would look down at her lover with a lovestruck expression, fondness, amusement and adoration sparkling in her golden eyes.

‘‘I really missed hearing you laugh like this, Rainstorm.’‘

She says, and after a moment, stops her attack on the bard, letting them catch their breath and kissing their forehead.

The shorter witch would use the back of their hand to cover half of their face, looking at her with half-lidded eyes, a blush still dusting their cheeks, nose and ears, making the owl lady blush as well.

‘They are too cute...’

She thinks, kissing their forehead again, a soft smile replacing the playful smirk that was on her face seconds ago.

Only for her eyes to go wide when she suddenly finds herself lying on her nest, with Raine on top of her, smirking in a way that made her heart flutter.

‘‘I happen to remember that you are also ticklish, Owl Lady~’‘

They say, and a tickle fight that made them feel like kids back in Hexside again starts.

[helloitsghost]

✨Merry Crimis✨

@sleepysheepytea hey fluffi I’m your secret Santa this year :3

The babies :3

I hope you enjoy this :D merry Christmas or happy holidays :D and thank you for ur gift earlier! I hope you like this drawing :DDDDD

And thank you to @squealing-santa @hypahticklish for hosting this event you did amazing >:DDDD