#ticklish!adam

[switchypanic]

Okay but Adam only having twenty-three ribs because Eve was made from one of them (if we are going by biblical lore) and that spot where his rib is missing being a fucking KILL BUTTON in tickle fights.

[nhasablogg]

How to move an immovable object

Fandom: The Raven Cycle

Characters: Adam, Gansey, Ronan

Summary: Adam worries he's not ticklish enough to be fun to tickle. Gansey and Ronan notice, like they always do.

A/N: Hey @happyandticklish guess what!! @tickles-tea commissioned this fic for you as a Christmas gift!! I took the liberty of using the prompt you sent me as a continuation of your own commission for this, and I really hope you like it!! Thank you @tickles-tea for the commission!

Read part one here.

Words: 2.1k

Adam kind of wished this conversation didn’t have to take place while he was somewhat trapped between them, Ronan’s elbow somewhere in his ribs while Gansey nearly wacked him in the face as he was talking. He sounded animated, although Adam had seen the signs of concern and should’ve known he would bring it up eventually. Had thought he could play it cool and they would let it go. How wrong he’d been.

Gansey’s animation was emphasized by Ronan’s silence, which made Adam more nervous than he could explain. He could feel his gaze on him and refused to meet it, opting instead to stare in front of him, watching the snowflakes fall outside the window as if this was any normal conversation. Gansey stopped talking when he noticed him drifting, not knowing just how much Adam was hanging onto every word he said despite pretending to be doing otherwise.

“Do you understand what I mean?” he asked, sounding uncertain in a way that was unlike him.

Adam looked at him. It was easier than looking at Ronan. “Sure.”

“Am I right, then? That you’re avoiding it on purpose?”

Adam looked away again, face burning. “Uhm. Maybe.”

Gansey seemed to wait a beat for him to elaborate, before saying, “Well, I guess the next question is, why? If you wanted to join in the first place?”

In order to understand, Adam was forced to remember. Adam was very good at remembering. Gansey and Ronan tangled up in situations that made him jealous, which wasn’t something he was used to. He was used to the bitterness of not having what other people had. Of never being able to reach out his fingertips to touch what other people had been cradling ungratefully their whole life. But this had been different. This had been silly and playful and embarrassing to admit that he’d wanted, for the first time not out of his reach at all, but on the contrary, just about to land in his own lap.

But Adam Parrish wasn’t good at asking for what he wanted. Adam Parrish wasn’t good at accepting the things he wanted without having to fight for them.

The whole tickling thing had been given to him after he’d spent weeks running away from it, and once it had been his - squeezes to his knees and pokes to his ribs, with the occasional proper tickle fights which left him giggling beneath his friends - he now didn’t know what to do with it. And so he did what he usually did: he started overthinking it.

It had started because he’d been watching Ronan tickle Gansey again, this time aware he would probably be roped into it and not fleeing until it would be part of the game; a game of cat and mouse which would end with him beneath merciless fingers. But Gansey had been screaming with laughter as Ronan discovered a spot on his lower stomach which they baptized as his Worst Spot, and Adam had never heard himself laugh like that. Had never seen Ronan beam down at him in the way he was grinning at Gansey. “This is the best day of my life,” he’d said, and Adam had never heard those words aimed at him. Had he been jealous? Not necessarily. Maybe a little. Maybe he was suddenly wondering if he was even fun to tickle, with his silent giggling and the way he curled up. No grandness once they got past his initial walls of trying to avoid it. Only stillness. He wasn’t even really that ticklish on most spots. It had been strangely devastating to realize.

He was looking at Gansey now, remembering another week of avoiding them again, this time for different reasons that were still somehow related. He wondered briefly why he couldn’t be normal about this. Why this had to turn into a thing each time it was approached.

“It’s really fucking stupid,” he said, choking up in a way he couldn’t stand. “Like, really stupid. Like you should probably just drop it, stupid.”

“Adam.” Gansey’s hand was on his arm, which was resting on Adam’s stomach, and so his fingertips were brushing over skin which should be ticklish but was merely sensitive. He didn’t even worry that Gansey would accidentally tickle him. “How many times do we have to say this? You can talk to us. We won’t judge. I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

Suddenly Adam couldn’t stand the way he was looking at him, and so he turned his head to the other side, coming face to face with Ronan. Ronan, who showed emotions through his eyes more than anything, and yet Adam couldn’t read him now. The embarrassment was different when facing Ronan. He felt like he could see into his very soul. Adam didn’t even want to begin to think of what he would find in there.

“Parrish.” His voice was low, as if he’d spoken before deciding to do so. On his other side, Adam could feel Gansey shifting, trying to twist his body so that he could look at them.

Adam exhaled. “Yes?”

“What is it that’s bothering you?”

“I feel-” Inadequate. “-not ticklish enough?”

Neither of them laughed. Neither of them questioned him. Ronan simply tilted his head, curiosity flickering across his face as he said, “Elaborate.”

And so Adam did.

“I’m worried I’m not ticklish enough and that I’m not fun to tickle because of that.” They’d long established that his initial reactions to being touched didn’t fully have to do with his sensitivity, but they’d not spoken more about it. Adam hadn’t wanted to. Now each question of “is this okay?” had more to do with touching him than with if it was tickling him. They’d taken it as a challenge when realizing not every touch was ticklish. Adam should’ve known they liked a challenge, and maybe that would’ve been enough had he not started lamenting over the fact that they rarely succeeded like he wished they would.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” he said when he was done, recounting the times Ronan had come out of a tickle fight panting for breath, or Gansey having fled into another room because he’d not been able to take it any longer. Adam had never done that. Adam was an immovable object.

“It’s not stupid,” Gansey said gently. “I just wish you’d come to us sooner. Have you been overthinking each tickle fight?”

“Not until somewhat recently.” That was partly a lie. Adam had been overthinking most tickle fights for entirely different reasons, but they didn’t need to know what. Not yet.

“It’s okay to not be super ticklish, you know,” Gansey continued. “We can still make you giggle. You still have fun during them, right?”

Adam was blushing now, unsure of what to do with himself. “Uhm. Sure.”

Ronan let out a laugh. “You don’t sound very convincing.”

“No, no, I do have fun, I just-” He shrugged, laughing too, feeling ridiculous. “Are you supposed to admit to that?”

“Why do things if you’re not enjoying them.” Gansey’s grin suddenly dropped. “Maybe it’s on us to make you enjoy them more, though. Change techniques. Maybe we just haven’t found your spots yet.”

“Maybe.”

Ronan hummed. “Only one way to find out.”

Perhaps he’d always known a conversation like this would end in an experiment, because what else could they do? Only he’d not expected to feel nervous about it, watching Ronan reach out while holding his breath. He kept his arms pressed to his sides, suddenly feeling exposed between them on the bed, but wasn’t that the point? To feel vulnerable and ticklish and helpless while trapped between them? Adam didn’t feel ticklish, although he didn’t necessarily feel not ticklish either. A strange middle ground. Wasn’t that just his life?

Ronan reached out and Adam held his breath and Gansey was probably watching intently on his other side, only Adam couldn’t stop watching Ronan’s approaching hand and so he couldn’t tell for certain. Anyone else would probably start curling up, or move their hands without meaning to in order to block the attack, giggling before being touched, but Adam simply remained still, watching.

“I know your ribs are ticklish,” Ronan said, stopping just above them. He said it matter-of-factly, although he could sense a teasing tone among each word, reminding Adam that this was supposed to be fun. “Tell me just how ticklish on a scale of one to ten.”

“Uhm. Maybe a six?”

“I’m sure I can turn it into a ten.”

With those words Ronan made contact, and while it did tickle - a twitch of the body, his breath coming out in a surprised laugh - Adam could remain as he was for ten seconds before he felt the need to push Ronan off, only of course Ronan didn’t let that deter him. That was partly the way their tickle fights went. Adam slowly fell into somewhat of a panic because he couldn’t stop it, not necessarily because it tickled too much. If that even made sense.

“See, if I do this,” Ronan sang, digging his fingers into his upper ribs. “I’m sure you’ll beg for mercy in no time.”

Adam snorted through his laughter, grabbing onto Ronan’s wrist without really thinking of it. “I don’t think I will.”

“Maybe you need to be gentler,” Gansey said, demonstrating his words by wiggling his fingers in the air and making Adam feel all the more flustered. “Maybe he’s the type to break under soft tickles.”

The casual way they spoke of this made Adam blush, much to their delight. Ronan did as Gansey said and trailed his fingertips lightly over his ribs, though Adam couldn’t feel it as much and so he slipped his hand beneath his shirt to try again, after Adam gave his consent.

Adam felt, for the first time since their tickle fights started, as if he needed to escape the tickling right that second, which translated into his arms flailing, his words becoming incoherent through his panicked laughter - laughter! - in a way that much resembled the sounds Gansey and Ronan would make.

“W-wait!”

“There we go.” Gansey seemed much too triumphant for someone who wasn’t doing the tickling himself, but he would eat that thought up soon as he decided to join in, spidering his nails lightly over Adam’s kneecap which seemed much more effective than simply squeezing at it.

Adam realized, in the midst of it all, that he wasn’t used to gentle touches and so hadn’t known how much they would tickle him. Maybe they realized it, too, but no one said anything about it. It didn’t seem necessary. Besides, they were a little busy now, turning Adam into a giggly mess. Gansey was zeroing in on a spot which had never elicited much of a reaction before, but he seemed determined now, curling his fingers over Adam’s neck over and over, the spot just beneath his ear which always made other people recoil. He wasn’t entirely sure at which point the sensation became ticklish, only that suddenly he felt he couldn’t stand it. Was suddenly giggling because of it.

“Stop!” he cried, raising his shoulder and finding it didn’t help. One hand occupied by Ronan’s hand which was holding onto it, the other desperately trying to shove Ronan’s other hand away from his bare ribs. Leaving his neck to fend for itself and his shoulder not doing much despite trying so desperately. Adam, never having had a weakness for neck tickles, was suddenly lost in a sea of giggles, feeling his whole body recoil at the gentleness, at the sensation which he couldn’t stand, and he suddenly understood them, his two ticklish friends. Understood why they fled and always came back.

“No offense, Parrish, but you seem really ticklish for someone who thinks they’re not.” Ronan was grinning at him, evading Adam’s panicked hand easily.

“This is fun, right?” Gansey had moved his other hand to the other side of Adam’s neck, leaving him trapped, all of them tangled limbs, all of them laughing.

To say he was flustered by it all - the tickling, the realizations, the patience and delight and gentleness Gansey and Ronan displayed toward him - would be an understatement. Adam was suddenly certain he would die here and be okay with it. The bed creaked as he struggled, although he’d not yet tried to get up. Maybe he would get there eventually. Or maybe not. He was okay either way. He trusted them either way.

“Are your armpits ticklish?” Ronan asked, finally - finally - letting his ribs be and trying to worm his hands under his arms instead.

“No!”

“No? I’m sure I can prove otherwise.”

Adam didn’t doubt it.

[cringemesstickles]

Cat? What cat?

Summary: Jonah and Adam left the house, but Adam is frustrated about not knowing what’s in the basement.

Pairing: none

Word Count: 1,241

A/N: Finally finished one of my tmc fics!!! There are two or three little jokes in this one because I’m hilarious. Anyway, Adam totally didn’t go into the basement and I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Also, I did write the ridiculous line I was talking about… so have fun looking for it lmao

———————————————————

Adam and Jonah stepped into their shared apartment after a long drive from the supposedly haunted house.

It took a lot of convincing to get Adam to come back to the car, but when he did come back, Jonah was more than relieved, even if Adam did pout for nearly the whole car ride.

The blonde flopped down on the couch with a huff, pout still glued to his expression.

Jonah, with hair more silver than silver, sat down next to him.

"I'm really happy you decided to come back with me, man." He said sincerely, patting Adam on the back. “I don't know what I would've done with myself if I had left you there."

The blonde nodded, avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah, I know… but I still wanna know what was in that damn basement… you should’ve heard it, dude, it’s like it was calling out to me!…" He groaned and buried his face in his hands, his frustration more prominent the longer he dwelled.

"I get it, man... but you can't mope about it forever."

Adam turned to glare at him.

"I can and I will, thank you very much.” He declared stubbornly with crossed arms. "Nothing can stop my pity party."

This gave Jonah an idea…

"Oh really? Are you sure? You know… I bet I can make you smile.” He said with a cheeky grin, one that typically spelled trouble.

The blue eyed boy furrowed his brows with confusion before scoffing, trying to appear unfazed.

“No fucking shot, Jonah. I’m gonna be pissed for as long as I want.”

This only made Jonah’s grin widen, a mischievous sparkle dancing in his eyes “That's a pretty bold claim for someone as ticklish as you." He smirked and watched Adam's eyes widen.

"D-Don't you fucking dare...” Adam warned, narrowing his icy blue eyes.

Jonah chuckled and swiftly leaped at the blonde, pinning him to the couch.

"Okay Adam… give me one good reason not to tickle you right now." He grinned and wiggled his fingers in the air, knowing that always got to Adam.

Adam's eyes widened and he crawled to the other end of the couch to get away from his mischievous friend.

“B-Because if you do, I’ll k-kill you!”

Jonah knew that was an empty threat, and he gave an amused snicker.

“Yeah, right! If you killed me, who would pull your dumbass out of stupid situations?!”

The blonde growled, though it wasn’t very threatening.

“S-Shut up! Get away!”

But it was no use.

Jonah knew what he wanted and he wasn’t gonna stop until he got it… and what he wanted was for Adam to forget all about that stupid basement!

And smile, of course.

With no further hesitation, Jonah struck, going straight for his friend’s ribs, wiggling his fingers sporadically across the tender spot.

This resulted in a girlish squeal that Adam would frankly like to forget ever happened.

“EEK- J-JONAH, YOU AHAHASS! STOP IHIHIHIT!” Yelled Adam, squirming helplessly under his friend’s playful assault.

The pleasant sounds only encouraged the sly attacker and he let out a snicker of his own.

“Nope! I’m gonna tickle you until you’re laughing so hard, you won’t even remember what a cat is!”

Adam tried to produce a threatening growl, but his vocal chords wouldn’t allow it, too busy producing the mirthful, boisterous laughter.

He moved like a worm on a hook, wiggling every which way; but no matter where he went, Jonah’s skilled fingers followed, merciless in their pursuit.

Said skilled fingers skittered up and down Adam’s sides, making him shriek and guffaw.

“NOHOHO, N-NOT THERE- GAHAHAH!”

The silver haired boy ignored his friend’s pleas, giggling and adding a couple playful pinches.

“Why not? Does it tickleeee?~”

Adam’s cheeks carried a rosy red hue, Jonah’s teasing tone flustering him to his core.

“S-SHUT UP! YOU FUCKING SUHUHUHUCK!”

Jonah gasped, pulling his hands away to place them dramatically on his chest.

“I suck?! I saved your ass, thank you very much!” He poked his friend in the stomach, causing him to squeak.

Both boys took this squeak very differently.

Adam, eyes as wide as dinner plates, slapped his hands over his mouth, his already flushed face taking on a whole new shade of red.

As for Jonah… his eyes were just as wide, his hand freezing in its place as he processed the girly noise his best friend had just made.

This bewildered expression was quickly replaced with a devilish smirk and he gave Adam’s stomach another poke, eliciting another childish squeak, much to Adam’s embarrassment…

“Adam… what was that?” Jonah asked, already knowing the answer.

Adam’s response was a hardly one at all.

“Uh- well- um…”

Jonah was heavily amused… he’d never seen Adam look so flustered.

“Adaaaam~” he sang, letting his hands hover just above the blonde’s stomach, watching for his reaction.

Adam’s squirming ramped up, flailing to try and avoid the attack.

“Jonah, d-don’t you fucking dare!”

“Oh, I think I will!”

With that, he snuck his hands under the fabric of Adam’s hoodie, digging into the soft flesh underneath.

Adam burst into shrill, boyish laughter, squealing and kicking his legs.

“NAHAHAH- JONAHAHAH!” He squawked, weakly shoving at the offending hands.

Jonah giggled with delight, finding the frantic reactions quite adorable.

“What’s wrong? Too ticklish? Hehe~”

Adam was, indeed, too ticklish.

He bucked his hips and shook his head, his messy blonde hair becoming even messier.

“J-JONAH, PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAN’T!”

Jonah slowed his fingers, giving his friend some momentary reprieve.

“Hmm… I don’t know, Adam… answer this question and I might let you go.” He smirked. “what’s a cat?”

Adam, still catching his breath, blinked with bewilderment.

“What?”

“You heard me! What’s a cat?”

Jonah slowly lifted Adam’s hoodie to reveal the pale skin, causing Adam to squirm more frantically.

“I-It’s an annoying animal with pointy ears that says meow!!!”

The silver haired boy gave a teasing smile.

“You still remember what a cat is?! I guess I have to tickle you even more!”

Before Adam could respond, Jonah bent over and blew a messy raspberry on his friend’s tummy, making him shriek and buck his hips.

After a few playful raspberries, Adam’s laughter was reduced to gasps and wheezes, his cheeks flushed and stained with mirthful tears.

Seeing his best friend couldn’t take anymore, Jonah relented, getting off of Adam and chuckling.

Adam wrapped his arms around his midriff, panting and giggling still, a big, goofy smile on his face.

For a few moments, the room was mostly silent, the only sounds being Adam’s breathy leftover giggles as he tried to catch his breath.

Finally, Jonah spoke up.

“So? How are you feeling?” He asked, an amused smile on his face.

The blonde initially wanted to glare and say something snarky, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Actually… much better.” He admitted, sheepishly looking away.

Jonah’s heart filled with pride, glad he was able to cure his friend of his grumpiness.

“I’m glad… now, why don’t we go do something that doesn’t have anything to do with stupid cat alternates?” He laughs, nudging Adam in the shoulder.

Adam laughed back, sitting up and swatting Jonah’s hand away.

“Sounds good to me.”

And so, the rest of their night was full of laughter, ridiculous conversations, and snacks.

And although Adam never figured out what was in that basement, he decided to get over it and move on, because Jonah was right…

He wasn’t invincible.

[chaoticklesblog]

Currently in drafts: a fic prompt for Adam returning in hell after the last extermination after being k*lled. His gold feathers have molted to black/gray feathers and with Lucifers help, he learns how tickly the molting process can be.

It's been in drafts for a hot minute, I just want to create content again, though.

[lilianlay]

It's Adam's turn~ Me and @fresh-thomato came up with an idea for a tickle belt that would be perfect for our angel😍 And it's perfect punishment for him~

[shadow-says-hello]

INSPO FROM THIS POST FOR GIVING ME SUCH A GOOD IDEA I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS

LEE ADAM LEE ADAM LEE ADAM LEE ADAM

Lers lute and emily! I’m sure adam hates tickles. But whatever he did ik for a fact he deserves them for bein an asshole :p also why is lute so hard to draw what

Anyways I hope u enjoy my lil doodle!

[kittenfangirl20]

*Lucifer and Eve are on a date at an art museum, it was nice to have someone talk about the possible meaning to the art over Adam who just usually said whether or not he liked the piece of art, they would walk through the museum holding hands and pause every once in a while to kiss*

Eve: I am going to tell you a little secret about Adam, he is very ticklish on his chin because of his goatee. When you are alone with him tickle him there and he will laugh very cutely, he also loves it.

*Lucifer gets a little smirk*

Lucifer: I am going to do that.

*later that night Adam and Lucifer were in the middle of a make out session when Lucifer reaches up and lightly tickles Adam on the chin with his clawed fingers when they were apart, as he was told Adam started started to laugh a lot which was really cute which made Lucifer tickle Adam on the chin even more*

Lucifer: So cute.

[switchypanic]

GET HIM!

”I’m gonna fuck you….up!”

[hhblizzad]

Guys.... Please pick

[haha-mania]

Got bored so I drew Lee!Edge cuz the little shithead deserves all the tickles he gets >:)

(This is tickle content! If this type of thing isn’t your cup of tea then please continue to scroll. Hate is not needed.)

[switchypanic]

OKAY BUT ADAM BEING SUPER FEATHER TICKLISH! LIKE, HIS OWN FEATHERS ARE ENOUGH TO GET HIM GIGGLING, AND IF SOMEBODY ELSE IS AT THE HEALM? MAN IS DEAD, CACKLING AND SNORTING AND BEGGING TO JUST GET IT OFF ALREADY (he doesn't mean it, though, ssssh)!

[tickle-bugs]

If prompt requests are still open, I have a beetlejuice one! We all know Adam is a huge jokester. I like to imagine that Adam and Barbara like to play around and see who can make Lydia laugh the hardest. Adam is always winning with his jokes, so Barbara decided to take matters in her own hands and tickle Lydia since the game just said to make Lydia laugh, but never said it could only be jokes. Adam accused Barbara of cheating and the jumps on her and tickles her and Lydia. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense lol feel free to disregard it if it doesn’t make sense or if prompt requests are closed. Thanks!

Okay, I Believe You

Summary: After a long drought of joy, the Maitlands hold a competition to see who can make Lydia laugh first. No Beetlejuice AU where Lydia summons the Maitlands on accident while trying to bring her mom back.

Something that Barbara will always love about her husband is his unflappable sense of joy. His light never wavers. As a bit of a cynic, she used to take it for granted, but now…his light is the single-most important blessing a ghost could ask for. 

Even now, doing a crossword from almost twelve years ago, Adam’s still smiling. She’s watching him delight himself every time he figures out an answer and it should be more heartwarming than it is, but her mind keeps drifting. 

She flips through one of the Deetz’s photo albums. Dozens of pictures of Lydia, lovingly arranged, spell the story of her childhood. A wobbly, gap-toothed toddler in too-big rain boots grows into a shaggy, unabashedly weird child. Smiling. 

“Do you think Lydia likes us?” Barbara’s gaze turns towards the attic door. Lydia’s trapped downstairs at one of her father’s real estate dinners. Her absence guts Barbara a bit. 

“Of course, honey. Yesterday, she said we were ‘pretty okay’, remember? That’s a big upgrade from ‘tolerable’!” He straightens out the newspaper and watches her over it. She averts her eyes.

“Yeah, maybe.” Barbara chews on her thumb. “Sometimes I wonder if she wished she’d gotten her mom back, instead of us.”

Wordlessly, Adam stands and folds her into a hug. She tucks into the frigid crook of his neck and sighs. Even in death, they fit together perfectly.

“I think—“ He pauses to run his fingers through her hair— “that Lydia shows her affection much differently from other people. We shouldn’t take her normal as anything strange.”

“You’re right.” Barbara sighs. “It’s just…when I think of her, I think of her frowning. Even with all these pictures, I can’t imagine her smile. Her joy.” 

“Tell ya what. I’ll get her to crack a smile and you’ll see what I mean.” Adam leans back a bit to catch Barbara’s eye. 

“You think you can make her smile?” She looks up, sliding her hands to his waist. 

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll make her laugh.” He grins. 

“So confident. Maybe I’ll beat you to the punch.” She raises her brow. He laughs heartily.

“You’re on.” Adam sticks out his hand to shake and Barbara takes it. 

….

A dreary scene unfolds at the dining room table. Real estate execs politely choke down Delia’s food as Charles attempts to dazzle them with his nightmare house. Maxie Dean seems to be the only one enjoying himself--his loud, grating guffaw bursts out every few minutes. A giant taxidermy bear, poised and ferocious, rattles on its stand behind him. The giant red bow on it threatens to slip free. 

Lydia, wearing a frilly yellow nightmare of a dress, busies herself with trying to kill Delia with her eyes. The pointed impact of her silverware against the near-inedible steak on her plate sets a pace for the whole affair.  

“Hey, Lydia.” Adam leans on the back of Lydia’s chair. Immediately, she sits up straighter. 

“What are you guys doing down here? They’ll see you!” Lydia hisses under her breath. When the table breaks out in mechanical laughter, she rolls her eyes. 

Barbara thinks of the time she walked in on Charles and Delia and shudders.

“They definitely can’t see us. Don’t worry about it.” Barbara pats her shoulder.

“We just had to visit our favorite occult expert.” Adam ruffles her hair. Delia looks over curiously. Lydia glares until she turns away. 

“This seems like a drag.” Barbara surveys the table. “What’s with the bear?”

“That wasn’t always there? I thought that was one of your dad’s…choices.” Adam squints at it. Lydia sighs.

“Gift from Maxie. Kill me now,” Lydia mutters, flicking a piece of rubbery steak across the table. When it hits the plate of the agent across from her, she levels him with a challenging stare.

“Well, I can’t do that, but…bear with me.” Adam gestures to the bear with a mischievous grin. 

A bowler hat lifts off of the hat rack and bobs through the air, ducking behind ugly sculptures and chandeliers to avoid prying eyes. It lands haphazardly atop the bear’s head. Adam gestures with more enthusiasm. 

Lydia snorts quietly.

“I’d offer him some of this steak, but…it seems he’s already stuffed.” Adam scrunches his nose and an apple floats into the bear’s open mouth. Lydia ducks her head to hide her smile. 

“What do you think a bear’s favorite constitutional amendment is?” Adam whispers, already chuckling at himself. “The right to bear arms. He’s already halfway there!” 

Lydia rolls her eyes with deadly force, but she’s still smiling. Barbara puts a hand over Adam’s mouth before he can gear up for another unbearable joke. 

“Okay, my turn.” Barbara grins mischievously. 

Maxie Dean taps a knife against his glass for the attention of the table. All eyes turn to him and the bear. 

Barbara flicks her wrist and a vinyl on the other side of the room slips free. It lowers itself onto the record player and the needle drops harshly. A gentle beating of drums fills the room. 

“Whoa, well that was…convenient—“ He looks uneasily towards the turntable—“but I love some mood music.”

When Maxie next opens his mouth, it’s not his squeaky voice that leaves him. Instead, in a guttural shout, he booms:

“DAAAY-O!”

The dining room goes quiet, save for the record. Maxie clears his throat. Lydia’s eyes widen. 

“Sorry, I’m not sure what--me say day me say day me say daaaayyy-o--”

Chaos erupts in the dining room. Harry Belafonte’s crooning voice fills the space as everyone but Lydia is forced to their feet. A conga line of disgruntled real estate mooks chugs around the table. Charles stiffly beats an ice bucket like a drum. The bear rocks around the room on its stand, shimmying with the music. Delia and Maxie spin like tops. 

Lydia sits at the perfect center of the storm, watching the whole thing with a gaping grin. Barbara waits for even a chuckle of disbelief, but all she gets is:

“Make Delia put the fruit bowl on her head.”

… 

“I can’t believe that didn’t work!” Adam pathetically kicks a pile of their junk and shakes a few things loose. A magic eight ball rolls across the attic floor and disappears in some far off corner. 

“Honey, you’ll have to do better than a hat on a bear.” Barbara snorts. “I’m shocked my plan didn’t work.”

“...you are?” Adam raises his eyebrow. Barbara swats his arm. 

“I brought the roasted pig to life and made it chacha! That’s precisely her sense of humor.” 

Lydia comes up into the attic humming. The door squeaks but doesn’t shut behind her. 

“That was awesome.” She sighs happily and twirls. “Almost made wearing this dishrag of a dress worth it.”

“I think you look positively haunting.” Barbara twirls Lydia under her arm, trying to shake a giggle out of an already-silly mood. No dice. Lydia gives a playful curtsy and flops down on a milk crate.

The attic door creaks open and Delia tumbles in. The levity evaporates. 

“Why are you poking around up here?” Lydia scowls. 

“I was not poking, I was…observing the feng shui of the attic stairs.” Delia sniffs and dusts herself off. She steps tentatively into the attic, looking at the various piles of Maitland-Deetz junk with distaste. 

“What do you want? I’m busy.” Lydia taps her foot against the floorboards. Delia approaches her gently. 

“Have you ever read Matilda?” Delia asks loftily. Lydia glares at her hard enough to elicit a squeak of fear. 

“In that charming novella, the titular young heroine develops…supernatural abilities under extreme emotional stress. But ultimately she uses them to rid herself of her greatest enemy and becomes a hero.” Delia gestures fervently at Lydia and receives a blank stare in return. 

“So does Carrie. What’s your point?”

“Look, when I was a youth…I often felt trapped and holed up. I know you must feel that way now, in our new house—“ 

“You think I’m trapped in here with you? You’re trapped in here with me. This is my house.”  Lydia leaps to her feet suddenly. The motion destabilizes a pile of junk at the end of the room. An old lamp falls over. 

“Lydia--” Delia swallows nervously. Adam, seizing the moment, rattles the shutters and piles of clutter. Barbara grins at him. He winks. 

“This can’t be happening.” Delia’s eyes dart around. Adam nudges the magic eight ball towards her. It stops at her feet. Outlook not so good.

“Perception is reality, right? You said it yourself.” Lydia stalks towards her. 

“Hang on, kiddo,” Barbara murmurs in Lydia’s ear, then concentrates. Lydia’s feet rise slowly off the ground as she levitates. She squeaks in surprise, then resolves her face back into murderous mischief. 

“Leave this place!” Lydia shouts, and Adam flings a cross stitch kit from a high shelf. Delia yelps and scrambles backwards. She looks up at Lydia in terror. 

Is this healthy for their relationship long-term? No. Is it fun? Absolutely. 

Delia screams and flees the attic, falling down a few stairs by the sound of it. Adam slams the door shut behind her. 

Lydia grins, bright and free, and it’s the most distinct show of joy they’ve seen from her…ever. Much like the pictures gathering dust up here, she’s radiant. But…still no laughter. Barbara’s not above admitting when she’s desperate. 

“You can put me down now.” Lydia twists to peer at her, still bobbing in place. Barbara chews the inside of her cheek. If this doesn’t work, nothing will. 

“Remember, you can’t kill me if I’m already dead,” she murmurs, then skitters her fingers over Lydia’s stomach. 

Lydia giggles, then cackles, kicking her legs where she still floats in the air. 

The Maitlands gasp in unison--Barbara in sheer joy and Adam in betrayal. 

“B-Barbara!” Lydia throws her head back as she laughs. Barbara squeezes her sides once, gently, and she squeals, shaking with the force of her laughter. Barbara thinks back to the photo albums--Lydia has her mother’s smile. 

“I didn’t think this would work.” Barbara’s hand passes through Lydia by accident and her voice leaps an octave or five. Lydia scrambles for her hand and pulls it out of her stomach. 

“That’ssobad,” Lydia gasps out, giggling like a maniac. Her eyes glitter with sheer joy as she squeezes Barbara’s hand. She almost seems to be waiting for something. 

Oh. How sweet. 

Barbara scuttles her fingers up Lydia’s ribs and her voice completely drops out. She hides her face in her hands but it does nothing to dim the room. It takes her a moment to uncurl once the tickling stops, but Adam catches the flash of disappointment that she tries to smother. 

Lydia floats back down, bewildered and bright pink, as Barbara takes a victory lap around her husband. 

“I win! Yes!” Barbara floats straight off the ground in a joyous little spin. Adam splutters and gestures at her. She sticks her tongue out at him. He splutters louder. 

“You are disqualified for eternity--” 

“On whose authority--” She snickers. 

“What is happening?” Lydia throws an old pillow directly through both of them. It thumps uselessly to the ground. 

“We were having a little contest to see if we could make you laugh. I won.” Barbara grins. Adam growls and starts reeling her into his arms. She gasps and starts trying to worm away. 

“You did not win, you cheated--”

“You guys are so…weird. Why do you care if I smile?” Lydia’s nose wrinkles with the force of her thoughts. She doesn’t look upset, which is promising, but she’s quickly reaching neon levels of blush. Her teenage need to look cool is very visibly warring with her smile. 

“Well, kiddo--” Adam speaks smoothly while wrestling with a giggling Barbara-- “We care about you. Is that such a radical concept?” 

As Lydia stands there, quietly bowled over that someone would look at her with such care, Adam busies himself with tickling his wife within an inch of her undead life. Barbara’s laughter floods the attic, the lights flickering in time with the music of it.

It’s so simple to them, Lydia thinks. Joy. 

“You gonna stand there like a ghost or are you gonna help?” Adam grins, lifting Barbara clear off the ground. She shrieks in surprise and starts stumbling her way through bargaining. Lydia coos at her mockingly and accepts Adam’s invitation. As she approaches, Barbara starts talking faster, and Lydia’s heart warms. 

“Wait, guys, we can talk about this--”

Adam buries her face into her neck and she squeals, somehow higher pitched than Lydia. Barbara throws her head back to laugh and it’s warm in its familiarity. Lydia dismisses the memories swirling like watercolors at the edges of her mind, instead opting to tase Barbara’s ribs. She snorts through her next peal of laughter, tossing her head from side to side as she tries to hide. The snorts find her anyway. 

Adam and Lydia exchange a mischievous look. 

Adam descends on one side, Lydia on the other, and Barbara giggles so violently that she phases directly through the floor. Adam and Lydia burst out laughing, leaning on each other for support. Barbara trudges back up the attic stairs, grumbling, and it sets them off again. 

“Next time, we’re setting up rules.” Adam wipes his eyes.

“Next time I’m sending you through the floor,” Barbara fires back, wiggling her fingers in his direction. Adam yelps and disappears entirely. 

Lydia’s too busy laughing at him to acknowledge the flutter of excitement at ‘next time’, but she’s overjoyed that it’s there.

[cringemesstickles]

Purposeful Loser

(TickleTober Day 3: Cuddles)

Summary: Adam starts a tickle fight so that he can lose on purpose (based off headcanon briefly discussed with @tickly-muffin >_<)

Pairings: Chainshipping

Word Count: 750

A/N: this is my first time writing for Saw and I’m low key scared to post this but I’m gonna do it anyways ok bye I’m gonna go hide

———————————————————

“you smell like a hospital.” Adam teased from where he was tucked away in Lawrence’s arms, making the doctor roll his eyes with exaggerated exasperation.

“Well, Adam, I am a doctor.” He said with a smile.

The atmosphere was warm and comforting and yet, Adam couldn’t help the nagging at the back of his mind; the one that yearned for a specific type of playful attention.

But how could he ask for it? That’s completely out of the question. Luckily, Adam had a plan.

Adam started poking and prodding at Lawrence’s sides, the doctor flinching and grabbing the younger’s wrists, keeping them firmly contained.

“Hehey! What do you think you’re doing?” He looked at the brunette, eyebrow raised with skepticism.

Adam’s eyes sparkled with mischief; he had the feeling his plan was working.

“What’s wrong, Doctor? Ticklish?” He snarked with a smirk, watching his lovers face and trying to figure out what he was thinking.

Lawrence wasn’t a moron. They had been together long enough for him to know a thing or two about Adam, and this was one of his typical ploys for tickles.

Lawrence gave a knowing smile but decided to play along.

He laid Adam on his back and held him in his lap, pinning his hands above his head so quickly that Adam yelped with surprise.

The doctor gave a smug grin, pleased with the blush that tinted the younger’s cheeks.

“Not so snarky now, are you?” He raised his free hand and began to wiggle his fingers threateningly over Adam’s stomach, watching his eyes widen in anticipation as he kicked his legs and squirmed helplessly, failing to suppress anticipatory giggles.

“Wahait, come on, Larry- you know I didn’t mean that doctor joke! Hospitals smell great!” He giggled frantically, watching the wiggling fingers inch closer and closer to his skin, excitement in his eyes.

“Maybe not, but I’m still going to tickle you till you can’t think straight.”

Before Adam could protest again, Lawrence plunged his fingers into the sensitive flesh, scribbling and scratching skillfully.

“EHEHEEK! NOOO, DOHOHONT!!” Adam shrieked, futilely squirming from left to right, only for the tickles to follow.

“Oh please. As if you weren’t begging for this.” Lawrence mockingly scoffed, skittering up to the ribs.

Adam snorted with laughter, happy to receive the attention he wanted, but also embarrassing.

Adam’s cheeks flushed bright red, and noticeably so.

“I-I WAS NOHOHOT! YOU’RE CRAHAHAZY!”

The taller man hummed thoughtfully.

“Mm, no.. I don’t think I am.” He paused his attack.

“You see, what I think…” He pulled his hand back and moved to hover his fingers above Adam’s armpit, observing how his squirming got even more frantic.

“Nonono, dohohont!” Pleaded the brunette, an excited shimmer in his eye that was really pleading the opposite.

“Is that you really love…”

The fingers moved closer to their target.

“Lawrence, please!”

“To be…”

And closer…

“Haha- shut uhuhuhuuuup!!”

“TICKLED!”

With that, the doctors skilled fingers dug into the hollow of Adam’s armpit, eliciting a shrill screech from the smaller man, his laughter loud and boisterous.

“EEEK! LAWREHEHEHENCE!!” He thrashed and kicked, screams of laughter filling the small room. Lawrence was almost worried they’d get a complaint for the noise.

“What’s the matter, Adam? Ticklish?” He mimicked Adam from earlier, taking pride in the absolute glee he was bringing his boyfriend. Adam’s smile could light up any room, even their own dusty apartment.

“SHUT UHUHUHUP!!” He blushed red, turning his head to try and hide in the crook of his arm.

Adam tried to tug at his arms, but it was no use; Lawrence was much stronger than him. And besides, he was already weakened from all the tickles.

His eyes were glittery with the joy of a kid on Christmas morning, letting himself laugh uncontrollably under his boyfriend’s playful yet loving touch.

The doctor paused and watched the younger man catch his breath, cheeks flushed and eyes watery.

“You okay? Have you had enough?”

Adam grinned cheekily, eyes brightening again. “Is that all you got, Larry? I can handle a hell of a lot more than that!”

Lawrence laughed at the typical snark and enthusiasm that came from his lover.

He shook his head fondly and leaned down to press a kiss to Adam’s lips.

“You’re too much, but I love you.”

“I suppose I am pretty lovable.”

Lawrence rolled his eyes.

Where Adam contained all his sass, he had no idea. But what he did know, was that Adam had plenty of tickles in his future.

[primordialruin]

She used to put her head against Adam's when she needed him to figure out the right word that matched her abstract thinking. Since she couldn't create words on her own, she had to rely on her husband to match the right vowels and consonants that felt the most appropriate. She tried to offer him descriptions with the vocabulary that was available to her tho. I think they played a lot of charades.

[ticklishraspberries]

HELLOOO, i’ve been reading the raven cycle books recently and i’m officially obsessed so could i pretty please request lee!adam with anyone as the ler? i just love them all so much and feel free to delete this! if you’d like any ideas, i can try and come up with a few! thanks :)

hello!! i am not super confident in my ability to write a full-length fic for this fandom at the moment, as i'm still re-reading the first book for the first time in like years lolol but i can definitely give you some lee!adam headcanons!! i hope that will suffice, lol <33

adam's usually reserved nature makes the fact that he's ticklish twice as adorable, because he usually never laughs so openly

since he didn't experience a lot of affection until he met the ~gangsey~ i feel like he wasn't rlly aware of his sensitivity

blue found out when they were seeing each other and thought it was the cutest thing ever!! so she obviously had to spill the beans to the other boys

his worst spots are his neck and thighs, but most spots can get him at least giggling

gansey loves to flutter his fingers over adam's neck while he's studying, just to distract him (and get him to take a fuckin break)

and ronan...ugh, once they get together, tickling adam becomes a pretty common occurance

adam usually hates feeling out of control, but with his friends/partner he finds tickling a bit fun, as long as they know when to back off (and as long as he can get his revenge bc he loves the cat and mouse game of it all)

[besthimbomachine]

Day two and what not writing has been doing is letting the werewolf idea simmer in the back of my head cause I don't have anything else to write about so good I guess?

Also I've taken a liking to pestering my boyfriend during work calls cause I'm a nuisance (and he doesn't use a camera so I can be a nuisance safely). He finds the meetings boring and useless anyways so I'm actually doing him a favor.