#ticklish!stanley

[amazingmsme]

Is The Bucket Worth It, Stanley?

AN: Bear with me as I try & catch up on these fics, I've been working on homework a lot. This was really fun to write, the Narrator just opens up a lot of fun possiblities with his powers! Love messing around with that! Here's day 17!

The Narrator watched Stanley with annoyance, tapping his foot. He'd been more obsessed with a stupid bucket than with him. And that was unacceptable, quite frankly. He'd made it clear that he too was interested in the bucket! Yes, Stanley made it look so fascinating that even he was curious as to its unique properties.

"Stanley, I think it's my turn with the bucket now," he said, garnering no response. "Hm? Stanley, don't you agree? I'd like to see the bucket." Stanley hugged the bucket closer.

The Narrator sighed, rubbing at his temple. "Look, I'm not going to steal it, I just want to look at it! I can do that, right?" He was met with a skeptical gaze. "Oh alright fine. You can have the bucket for one more minute, but I'd really appreciate it if you shared after that." He thought he was being rather reasonable.

He left the room for only a moment, but when he popped his head back in, the bucket was nowhere in sight.

"Wha- Where's the bucket?" he asked in shock. Stanley merely shrugged. "What do you mean you don't know? It was just here!"

He caught sight of the tug at the corner of Stanley's lips. Oh, so that's how he wanted to play it...

"Stanley, you have until the count of three to give it back, and then I'll be forced to take drastic measures," he warned. The warning went unheeded.

"One." No answer. "Two." Stanley stared at him, arms crossed. "Three." Okay, they were doing this.

The Narrator sighed, taking off his glasses to clean them nonchalantly. "You're really forcing my hand here. Last chance," he offered him a way out. Just cough up the bucket now and you won't have to worry. Stanley was always a stubborn one.

"Alright, be that way." Before Stanley could question him, the Narrator spoke once more in a clear, deep voice.

"Stanley was in the dark." Suddenly, he couldn't see a thing. A pitch black void stretched before him in every direction. "He tried to move, but found he was tied to a chair." A chill crept up Stanley's spine upon hearing those words, and suddenly he was no longer standing. He sat in a chair, arms and legs tied down.

"He tested the bonds, but they were tight. Not so tight as to hurt, mind you, just tight enough to keep him secure. And the rope wasn't rough or fibrous either, it was soft like silk." As he spoke, Stanley realized he was right: the ropes weresoft and didn't cut into his skin.

"A single light turned on overhead. It wasn't very bright, but in the complete darkness it might as well have been blinding. A silhouette came into view, allowing him a glimpse of his captor." The Narrator stood before him, an incredibly smug smirk in place. Stanley threw his head back, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

"Hello again. Now I just need you to answer one simple question. Where did you hide that bucket?" He didn't know why he expected an answer.

"Oh well, you leave me no choice. Always the hard way with you, right Stanley?" he teased. He pulled his hands out from behind his back, wiggling his fingers in the air. "Feel like answering now?"

Stanley's eyes widened and he gulped, but still he shook his head. The Narrator smiled widely.

"Good." He let his hands connect with Stanley's torso, vibrating against his ribcage. His captive jolted away from the touch, biting down on his lip to prevent any laughter from escaping. The Narrator tutted and shook his head.

"Now Stanley, you already know this won't stop until you give me what I want. So I suggest you either cough it up, or get comfortable," he said, not a hint of sympathy in his voice. The Narrator heard a quiet whine slip past his sealed lips and smirked, tracing maddening circles over Stanley's sides.

He slowly ramped up the speed of his fingers, prodding between the spaces of his ribs and scratching lightly over the bones. With a snort, the dam broke and Stanley's bubbly laugh filled the air. He squirmed in his seat, twisting side to side and arching his back, but that only pushed his body into the Narrator's hands. He yelped when his own movements sent wiggling fingers straight into his pits.

"Feel like sharing with the class?" the Narrator asked, but Stanley shook his head. "Okay, more tickles for you then," he said, not even trying to should anything but gleeful.

He worked his way back down, tweaking each rib as he went. Every pinch drew out a different shrill sound and twitch. The Narrator noticed the way the pace of his giggles quickened any time he strayed too close to his belly, and he couldn't let the discovery go unexplored.

"Oh, what this? Does someone have a ticklish tummy?" he started, drawing circles on either side of his stomach. Stanley ducked his head to look away, as if to hide from the teasing.  He shook his head, adamantly denying  it. He was proven wrong when the Narrator wormed a finger in his bellybutton, causing an ear splitting shriek. 

"I'll ask again: where did you put the bucket?" he asked, squeezing his hips in a downright torturous way. Stanley bucked and cackled. The Narrator chuckled and leaned in to whisper, "I know you'll give up sooner or later. But I think we're both hoping it's later." His voice was a deep purr that sent chills up Stanley's spine.

He whined at the accuracy of the assumption, lip trembling in an adorable pout as he still tried to hold back his reactions. The Narrator shook his head and tsked.

"Now now Stanley, don't try and play tough. It only makes me want to break you even more," he taunted, drilling his thumbs in his hip dips. Stanley bucked and thrashed about, but those hands might as well have been glued to his skin.

His laugh turned to breathy frantic giggles when the Narrator began scratching lightly across his lower stomach. He slipped a finger inside his waistband, wiggling against warm sensitive skin. Stanley flushed and let out a giggly yelp.

The Narrator pulled away, allowing him a moment to catch his breath. But that didn't mean he had to be nice to him.

"Stanley knew what he had to do if he wanted this to stop. Either he was so fucking stubborn he refused to give up a metal bucket, or he loved this so much, he wasn't quite ready for it to end. He could feel nervous dread- or was it excitement? building in the pit of his stomach as he saw his captor reach into his jacket and pull out a long fluffy feather," he narrated this song and dance they found themselves in. He hadn't even been wearing a jacket, the idea just came to him. The wide eyed look Stanley gave him was more than worth it.

"So what'll it be? Mercy? Or more?" he asked, twirling the feather between his fingers. Stanley gulped, barely containing giddy snickers as he shook his head. "More it is then."

The Narrator brandished the tool with a flourish and swept it across his neck from ear to ear, as if he was slitting his throat. It sure as hell felt like he was being murdered.

He fluttered the soft plumes over his ears, sending him into giddy, shrill laughter and breathy snorts.

The Narrator leaned in to speak directly in his ear while he tortured the other with the feather. "As you continue to laugh yourself silly, I want you to really think: is the bucket worth it?"

[veryblushyswitch]

I don’t know if you’ve wrote any yet, but do you have any headcanons for Stan and Ford?

Stan & Ford ~ (tickle hcs)

I haven’t for them actually! Most of these hcs will be about when they’re kids, but there will be a few for after they reconnect ⚓️ Thank you so much for the ask! Hope you enjoy!

⚓️ ~ Stan is for sure the bigger tickle monster between the two. Ford gets him a lot of course, but Stan lives for making his twin laugh.

⚓️ ~ Stan is more sensitive to rough tickles whereas light tickles really get to Ford. Not to say that rough tickles don’t work on him either.

⚓️ ~ Ford is too ticklish for his own good.

⚓️ ~ Stan loves it tho. He uses every opportunity he can to tickle his nerdy twin.

⚓️ ~ Ford is mildly ticklish everywhere, but he’s especially ticklish on his hands, under his arms, on his neck and ears, and along his ribs.

⚓️ ~ His hands make him so giggly and squirmy!

⚓️ ~ When he’d be feeling down about them, Stan would pin his hands down and scribble all over them with his fingers or a pen until Ford agreed that they’re cool.

⚓️ ~ Raspberries absolutely kill him-

⚓️ ~ His mom would give him raspberries on his neck and ears when giving him hugs. Stan would give him tummy and rib raspberries as the grand finale during tickle fights.

⚓️ ~ Of course we can’t ignore the fact that Ford has six fingers on each hand-

⚓️ ~ The dude has two extra fingers to tickle with! Much to Stan’s dismay.

⚓️ ~ Stan isn’t as ticklish as his brother. He’s ticklish in fewer places, but those places are still really ticklish.

⚓️ ~ He’s most ticklish on his knees, stomach, feet, and shoulder blades.

⚓️ ~ Stan can’t get massages without giggling his head off when someone goes for his shoulders or shoulder blades.

⚓️ ~ Whenever Ford tickles him, he always cries out how unfair it is while giggling his head off. It actually makes Ford appreciate his hands more.

⚓️ ~ Ford would constantly do the exploding spider knee thing to Stan and it makes Stan shriek every time!

⚓️ ~ He squeals and curls up when his tummy is tickled!! He’s a fighter and a squirmer, but when his stomach is tickled he lets out the most happy giggles and crumbles.

⚓️ ~ This still stands for when he’s older and he kinda doesn’t hate it hates it.

⚓️ ~ Both also got tickled a lot by their mom when they were younger. Even in their teens she’d give them side/rib pokes and knee squeezes.

⚓️ ~ Got yelled at a lot when they’d stay up late reading comics under a blanket with a flashlight.

⚓️ ~ If there was a tickle scene it would always lead to one or the other initiating a tickle fight.

⚓️ ~ When they were younger, Ford was never really able to get the upper hand during tickle fights since he’s so ticklish. But now that he’s older and learned to fight, he can for sure turn the tables pretty quickly.

⚓️ ~ The first time they tickled each other after everything was when he saw Stan tickling Dipper and Mabel. Stan noticed Ford’s hesitation to join in on the family bonding, so he dragged him into the chaos.

⚓️ ~ He told the kids to watch this and went to go tickle his brother. However, Ford swerved out of the way and used his combat skill to instead pin Stan to the floor and wreck his ass. And to let the kids get their revenge.

⚓️ ~ Didn’t stop Stan from retaliating afterwards though. He went for a bad spot immediately and was able to make Ford crumble.

⚓️ ~ Both didn’t admit it out loud, but that was one of the best days they’d had together since the incident. Tickle fights were something they really missed.

⚓️ ~ These two are such a playful ler duo against Dipper and Mabel. Stan of course shared all of their tickle spots with him.

⚓️ ~ Dipper was so embarrassed at first because the author of the journals was tickling him and hearing him laugh and snort, but he soon realized that yes this the author, but he’s also his Grunkle.

⚓️ ~ Setting out to sail the world was the perfect time for the two to reconnect and make each other laugh once again.

⚓️ ~ Stan tells so many dad jokes on the boat and they drive Ford crazy.

⚓️ ~ Sometimes one of them will get Ford to genuinely snicker, but if he doesn’t Stan will just tickle him while he tells jokes and teases Ford that he didn’t know his jokes were that funny. (He does this a lot with Dipper and Mabel too)

⚓️ ~ They’ve for sure come across a tickle monster while sailing around the arctic.

⚓️ ~ It got both of them and they both tease each other about it.

⚓️ ~ Overall, these two had a lot of tickle fights when they were younger, and even more when they reconnected and met the kids. And they’d never trade it for anything.

[ninjabutterflybaconstrip82727991]

Imagine You Were In MGM Grand Hotel In 2003:Paul Stanley Was nibbling on your neck,or tickling your toes. You started giggling and laughing hysterically! You:*giggles.* Paul!!!! Stahahahahahap!!! That Tickles!!!!! Paul:*chuckles.* you sleepy,Baby? You:*tickling Paul back.* Paul:Stop Tickling meheheheheheheeee!!! Please!!!!!! I'm ticklish!!!!!

[hon3y-y]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pov: hockeyplayer!suguru is your loving boyfriend<3

Inclusive to all fem readers<3 (no deep description of body type or skin color)

Enjoy<3

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s hair flows behind him while he skates on the ice, flashing you a bright smile as he skates past you to score. He immediately blows a kiss to you and goes to celebrate with his team. He’ll go skating to the benches and practically throws himself over, “you see me babe?” He calls up to you. You nod, blushing as his coach tells him to sit down and grumbles “keep your head in the game, suguru. We haven’t won yet…” he’ll blow a kiss to you before sitting down, pushing away his teasing teammates.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who tells the opposing player standing next to him during the face-off, “by the way, I’m scoring off of this..” the guy looks confused and scoffs at your boyfriends cockiness, but ends up shocked when he does. Before he can fully process how fast suguru scored, he sees getou rush to where you are in the stands, calling out to his lucky charm.

I mean, he’s in front of his favorite person in the world? When is a better time to show off…

He’ll beg you to come to practices, showing you his smooth tricks and waiting for your approval every time. He absolutely loves praise and hearing you cheer for him, even during an empty practice? It scratches his brain in a way that pushes him to try harder, move faster, and win. He just loves to make you proud.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s own team is freaking out when you said you might not be able to make the game. He’s sulking, and his teammates are all trying to make him feel better.

‘She’ll come, don’t worry!’

‘She’s probably on her way right now.’

‘Just breathe, bro…’ which only makes him grumpier

After confirming you won't be able to make it, he’s out of it the first two periods, allowing the team they’re against to get ahead three points. During intermission you call him, saying you heard they were behind and you’d be able to be there the last period. Somehow he miraculously is back on his game and they end up only losing by one point. You apologized for missing the first half to which he shushes you, “my lucky charm made us lose with dignity, baby. I’m just happy you’re here.” He says while wrapping you in his arms, smiling like he won the Stanley cup.

When he goes home with you for the holiday, he plays hockey with your cousins and lets them win(cause he’s so sweet T-T. Probably dramatically throws himself onto the floor when they score making them giggle every time. Anyway..) That is until your nosey and annoying next door neighbor starts making comments on his plays. He rolls his eyes, leaning on his stick while focusing on the way the neighbor leans into you or comments on how pretty you look and suddenly there’s a puck flying, nearly hitting the annoying man. He goes to where you two are wrapping a protective arm around you, he’s acting shocked too. The neighbors eyes wide in shock sputtering nonsense as you try not to laugh, “shit man, usually I don’t miss.”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who runs out of the changing rooms as soon as he’s done and goes to meet you. His eyes sparkling, grin wide on his face as he moves his hockey gear to give you a bear hug. “How’d i do?” His voice is mumbled into your neck, tightening his arms and breathing in your comforting scent. You laugh at the ticklish feeling before facing him, “so good my love, couldn’t take my eyes off you~” making him blush.

Suguru is always worked up after a game, pulling you out to his car with a smirk on his lips. He’s staring down your shirt and smacks your ass when you pass him holding the door for you, “suguru! We’re in public—“ to which he just laughs and begins to tease you, “i thought you liked being watched? Didn’t have a problem when i made you cum on my fingers in front of satoru last week?” To which you gasp and immediately reach up to cover his filthy mouth. “I didn’t know he came in!” Your cheeks are flushed pink and you mumble a tiny ‘hmph’ before going to the passenger seat of the car.

You're confused when he doesn’t open it, turning to look at him and noticing his crossed arms. “That’s my job, princess.” And just like that, your putty for him again. You giggle and turn away as he strolls over only for you to stop him. “Open the back, gonna need it more…” you lean up to his ear and whisper making him bite his lip. “Anything for you, baby.”

NSFW below;

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who currently has you in his lap in the backseat of his car, his hands grabbing and caressing anything he can. He plays with your tits through your shirt, nipping at your lip and rolling his hips up to grind his aching cock into your covered pussy. “Mmh—take this off, please..” he’s pawing at your shirt, helping you remove the item before immediately pulling your bra down to stare at your pretty tits. He tugs and plays with your nipples, chuckling when you push his hands lower “guru, play with this instead~”

Clothes are thrown around the car, both of you guys impatiently wanting to feel each other. You climb on top of him again, feeling your mouth salivate at the sight of how large he is (never failing to impress you)

The feeling of his tip pushing into you makes you let out a sharp cry, the stretch painful without the prep but your dripping pussy helps glide him inside. Suguru reaches up to caress your soft cheek, kissing your watering eyes while whispering words of encouragement. “I know baby,” he leans his head against the headrest, trying not to cum just by the feeling of his head popping through your tiny, wet hole. “Slow baby, you can take it~” his hands rest on your hips, moving to play with your clit and try to help you adjust.

When you finally sink down onto him fully, he holds you still, closing his eyes and trying to not succumb to cumming right there. Your face is twisted up as his cock nestles against every nerve you have, panting at just how full he makes you. “Su-guru, ‘ure so big—nghh!” You moan when he rolls his hips up.

With your hands using his shoulders as leverage, you begin to ride him. Suguru is noisy, he doesn’t mind showing his lover how good he feels. And as he leans into your ear, telling you how good you’re doing, you can’t be more grateful it’s you he’s talking to

“Good job baby—oh fuck!—riding me so g-good.” He moves his hands to your ass, spanking it and watching the jiggle it makes before grabbing it for leverage. He’s also a little impatient so it’s not long until he fucks up into your pussy, making eye contact with you so he can watch the way you lose yourself in the pleasure. His cock hit your g-spot harshly, you clench tightly around him with your eyes rolling back. You moaned uncontrollably, any attempt to shush yourself stopped by suguru. “Move ur’ fucking—hands.”

Your tears egged him on, enjoying your choked sobs that echoed in the confined space. The car had fog on the windows, shaking lightly and if anyone of his teammates saw, it would be nearly impossible to argue what the two of you are doing.

He slows down, changing his rough pace to slow loving thrusts. He pulls you to him, kissing you passionately and enjoying the intimate moment while reaching down to thumb your clit. You gasp into the kiss, brows furrowing at the double stimulation. “Don’t s-stop!” You beg, messily kissing him letting out shakey breaths. Suguru playfully smiles while nodding, “i won’t baby, promise…”

He adjusts the two of you, laying you down and lifting your legs to your chest before pushing back into you. He groans, and grabs your jaw. “Open.” You do as you’re told and feel suguru spit into your mouth, picking up his pace after watching you swallow it without instruction. “Good—fuckin—girl.” He emphasized with every thrust, nearly hypnotized by how pretty you look.

You tighten around him when he leans down to suck on your harden nipple, bucking your hips to meet him halfway. You’re being fucked dumb, eyes rolling whenever he fucks you full, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge with every drag of his cock. Your voice pitches, “Gon-na cum!”

Suguru wraps his hand around your throat, “yeah? Not even asking? What a brat.” He scoffs. You try and speak, wanting to beg and be his good girl but you can’t. You can feel it building, unable to have any control. His eyes darken, “really? Still not gonna ask?” And you start crying. Your brain is fried, the need to please losing to your own selfish desire to cum.

“S-sor-ry!” You yelp as it snaps. you cum hard, your eyes squeezed tight as your back arches up and your whole body tightening. You're shaking, throwing your arms over your eyes as you curl into yourself as intense wave after wave courses through you. With ringing ears, you don’t know when you finally regain senses but the first thing you feel is Suguru's rough hands caressing your cheek.

Suguru has pulled out of you, “holy shit, looked so hot babe.” You laugh at the surprised look on his face. You look down and notice the wet spot on his seat and try to sit up, embarrassed. “Woah, take a second to breathe, mama.” He jokes while pushing you back down.

“Guru, I’m sorry. Ill clean—“ he cuts you off with an annoyed groan, playfully smacking your pussy making you gasp. “You should only apologize because I didn't get it on camera.” You look up at him and smirk, “you didn’t cum yet, think you can make me do it again?”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who does make you cream on his cock again but this time on video. The same video that, with your permission of course, he shows to his teammate satoru with an open invitation to join in on that nights after party

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru is just the best<3333

A/n: it’s finally done🙏 i have finals coming up so idk when imma write again💔

[rustyparable]

(Hugging)

I HC that the Narrator is ticklish, and Stanley uses this to his advantage to negotiate kisses (and breaks from writing new stories)

A lazier sketch but it was fun to doodle

[lovemybluebully]

Over My Dead Body

Got writer's block on the fic I mentioned with X23 so I wrote this to keep my creative juices flowing. 😁 Hope you guys don't mind. lol I swear this was just going to be a little drabble, buuuuuuut I got carried away. It was just like, I have an idea! Oooh I have another idea! And then it just spiraled. 🤣 I suck at writing short fics. lol

Probably not my best work, but just a little silliness between these two guys. Another fic where Wade discovers Logan is ticklish and goes all out on him. I very much enjoy tickle origin fics. 🥰

Again some somewhat movie spoilers, but if you haven't seen the biggest movie in the world by now then that's your fault. lol Then of course the typical foul language and Deadpool's dirty mouth.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

ler!Wade/Deadpool x lee!Logan/Wolverine

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 5,139

"Fucking give me that remote, Wilson!" Logan let out a teeth-bared snarl while chasing Wade comically around and around the couch like in a Scooby Doo cartoon.

"But baby cakes, I want to watch 'Touched By An Angel'! Wade snickered, managing to stay just one step ahead.

"Fuck that shit! This is the final round for the Flames in the Stanley Cup, and I am NOT missing it!" He finally caught up to Wade and took him down with a flying tackle of heavy adamantium as they both crashed to the floor and the tv remote went sailing out of reach.

Logan quickly scrambled to his feet as he made a break for it, but Wade successfully grabbed his leg to trip him as he hit the floor again with the merc now up and giggling as he ran to claim the prize.

"Yessss! Home run! And the crowd goes wild!" Wade mimicked the sounds of a cheering stadium while triumphantly holding the remote over his head. However, this was instantaneously followed by a loud growl from Logan as he charged his roommate like a bull and slammed into him harder than a Mack truck.

Wade didn't have time to yelp as his body went flying across the room though the remote had been knocked from his grasp and dropped to the ground, exploding the case open as the batteries all popped out. Logan reached down to pick it all up, shaking his head in annoyance as he walked back over towards the couch and tried to jam the batteries back in properly.

"Motherfucking idiot. Just sit your stupid ass down and take the L. I'm putting on the hockey game and that's that."

But Wade wasn't through yet. He was having too much fun with this! He was always trying to get Logan to roughhouse and play with him, but with the X-man being such a stiff it was hard to get him to let loose. Alcohol usually played a big factor in getting Logan to loosen his inhibitions and engage, but at the current moment he was sober as a judge. 

Pissing him off was the next best thing, and Wade loved a good chase and the physical contact, even if it was of the more painful variety. They had a rule about not spilling any blood inside the apartment, but he knew Logan could be pushed too far sometimes and forget about that so Wade would usually back off before he reached that point.

Though at this present time he had only antagonized him a little bit so he knew Logan would be able to tolerate him just a smidge more.

Logan's hypersensitive ears easily picked up the sound of the energetic man coming at him again as he turned around just as Wade plowed all of his weight into him to tackle him onto the couch. Wade quickly took the position to straddle the man's thighs and started making grabs for the remote as growling curses were hurled at him.

"Goddammit! You juvenile fucking moron! Just back off! The only way you're getting this is over my dead body!"

"Bet," Deadpool nodded and kept up in his efforts.

As they played slap-hands fighting to get a hold of the controller it slipped from their grip, hitting Logan in the face on its way down before sliding inside his collar down into his button-up overshirt.

"Nice going, captain loser. Don't worry, I'll get it!" Wade immediately went after it as he haphazardly began squeezing and poking around Logan's midsection as he tried to find the location of the remote hidden beneath the fabric.

As irritated as he was Logan now found that he had a new problem as his body started involuntarily reacting to the way Wade was grabbing at him. It was making his skin crawl. Shivers running up his spine as he began to writhe underneath the other man, trying to avoid the touches.

"Stop squirming, would you? You're making this way harder than it has to be. And I can't find the remote either," Wade teased, always managing to slip in inappropriate innuendos, but Logan was too occupied to make a sarcastic retort as he frantically tried to grab and get control of Wade's busy hands.

"Q-Quit it, shithead!" Logan gritted through his teeth as Wade just clucked his tongue and shook his head.

"Oh c'mon! Stop fighting it and just give it up!" Wade's words held a double meaning in this situation as his hands moved lower, giving the grump a particularly firm squeeze around his hips as Logan couldn't hold it in anymore. 

His back arched off the couch accompanied by a loud snort; his nose scrunched as a soft string of giggles tumbled their way out. 

Upon hearing that Wade immediately stopped what he was doing; practically frozen in shock as he stared down at the bigger male below him. After a few long, tense moments a slow grin of realization started to spread over his face and Logan was suddenly overcome with a feeling of immense dread at what was about to transpire.

"Did...Did you just giggle?"

"....No," was all Logan could say lamely; his uneasy mind not allowing him to come up with anything else as Wade only smiled more.

"Now here's the plot twist that I never would have expected. You wanna tell me what that was all about? Forgive me if I'm finding it difficult to believe that a hardened tough guy like you could possibly be, dare I say it.....ticklish."

Logan's eyes betrayed him as they widened in pure terror; his brain frantically trying to figure out a solution to get him out of this mess, but his silence told more than enough.

"Ohohoho, you are, aren't you? Well this just made things a lot more sexy...I mean, interesting," Wade stroked his own chin, pondering the situation while Logan finally regained his wit and was now on the rebound to try to deny it.

"What? Are you kidding? Tch! I am not ticklish. Where the fuck do you come up with such stupid ideas?" He made his best attempt to sound convincing, but Wade could easily see right through his bullshit.

"I gotta tell you that all sounds exactly like something a ticklish person would say. A pitiful performance like that isn't going to win you any Oscars," Wade smirked before his eyes then drifted back down to Logan's torso, "Oh dear. It looks like the remote has fallen inside your shirt. Whatever shall we do?"

Wade was gently tugging at the front of his shirt as Logan narrowed his eyes.

"Just get offa me and I'll get it myself. Quit looking for excuses to grope me, ya fucking pervert," Logan growled deeply with his characteristic hard-as-nails Wolverine glare, trying to be as off-putting as possible to hopefully get Wade to lose the notion.

"But it's so confusing when your mouth says 'no', but your eyes say 'yes'," Wade grinned, giving a light tickle to Logan's sides that made him flinch, "By the way, what do you want your safe word to be?"

"Touch me and I will cut your useless motherfucking head off, Wilson."

Wade laughed chaotically and shook his head.

"Now that's kind of a mouthful to say. You should pick something easier like 'umbrella' or 'avocado' or 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'-"

Logan realized he was running out of time for stalling and was now struggling to push Wade off of him before he could actually carry out this heinous act, but the merc simply shoved his arms aside and launched his attack, tickling wildly along his ribcage.

"Oh I get it! You don't want a safe word! Very kinky! I like your style! Well you did say the only way I was getting the remote was over your dead body. Who knew it was going to be death by tickling?"

Logan made a strained grunting noise as he steeled himself and began writhing about, still fighting to force Wade off despite the fingers running along his ribs. He in no way wanted to give Wade the satisfaction of making him laugh and would hold it in for as long as he could.

"Looks like we've got a tough guy, ladies and gentlemen," Wade grinned, momentarily looking out at the camera then turning back to his victim, "You know in all the fanfics I've read it's always the toughest guys that are the most ticklish of all. Look at you doing everything in your power not to laugh. How cute. Too bad you're not going to be able to keep that up. I pretty much wrote the book on 'lerring."

Wolverine had no idea what that meant but could hardly fathom the idea that he was going to have to listen to Wade's annoying jabbering and teases without being able to give him a piece of his mind. Because if he even dared to open his mouth it was game over and he was going to fucking lose it.

"So are you like one of those guys who are only ticklish around here...," Wade squeezed and massaged into his sides as an involuntary grin stretched across Logan's face while keeping his jaw clenched, "Or are you one of those head-to-toe ticklish kinda guys? I'm betting the latter."

While still keeping one hand digging into his side Deadpool now reached up to teasingly trace his fingers with a feather-light touch over Logan's ear and down his neck as the man wrenched his head away and scrunched up his shoulder to try to cover up that side of his head.

"Ooooh so sensitive. Am I going to have some fun with you. All we're missing is the sweet sound of your laughter. C'moooooooon just let it out already. You're not embarrassed of your laugh, are you? I'm sure it's wonderful. Don't be shy now, it's just the two of us here."

Every word that came out of Wade's mouth was slowly eating away at Logan's resolve along with his mental capacity to resist the laughter building up inside of him. Giving into Wade's demands was not high on his list of favorable activities, but he knew it was about to happen whether he wanted it to or not.

"You are one hard nut to crack, I'll give you that. But that's okay, it's just going to make breaking you even sweeter. Heheh, look how red your face is. You look like you're about to explode. I just need to find the right spot to poke that bubble and free you of your burden. Hmmm, I think I know where....," Wade smirked big time as he changed tactics to thrust his hands underneath Logan's arms and furiously tickle into his armpits.

The battle was finally over. Logan had fought for as long as he possibly could, but he just couldn't take it anymore. With Wade having honed in on one of his most sensitive areas he felt his lips make one last valiant effort to stay sealed as they trembled right before releasing his loud, pent-up outburst.

"HAHAHaahaha! AhahahahaStop! Stahahahap ihihhit!" Logan hollered as he managed to shove Wade's hands out of his pits, though they immediately latched onto his waist and dug right in. Wade was beyond pleased with this turn of events.

"Ahhhh there it is. And it's just as adorable as I imagined. See? Nothing to be embarrassed about," Wade's grin encompassed his whole face as he didn't let up and kept kneading his thumbs right above Logan's hips.

"I wahahahasn't embahahaharrassed, ya dehehehense fuhuhuhucking prihihihiiick!  Gahahahahaa! Just didhihihidn't wahahahaha-wahant to gihihihive you the sss-satisfahahahaction!" Logan struggled to speak clearly through his laughter as he twisted and squirmed, trying to wriggle out from under the other man.

"Well mission failed, my little stud muffin. I can't believe you've been hiding your ticklishness from me all this time. Think of all the fun we're going to have together now!" Wade exclaimed with pure glee as he moved back up to the ribs now that he was receiving the reactions he wanted, making Logan cackle uncontrollably.

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuuck!! Okaahahahay! You gohohohohot meheheee! I'm tihihihicklish! Now fuhuhuhuhuhuck ohhohohoff!" Logan's hysterical proclamation was accompanied by a series of hard snorts, making Wade's face light up even more.

"You're a snorter?! Oh that's just so precious! How can you expect me to fuck off after hearing that?! Nononono, I think I will keep fucking on, thank you very much! Besides if I stop now then this will be the shortest tickle fic ever written!" He increased his speed, probing between every rib bone as he played his friend's sides like a ticklish piano.

Logan surprisingly laughed even harder, wheezing for air as he continued letting out a snort every few seconds with his burly arms pitifully clamped as tight as he could against his sides. Nothing was stopping the devilishly dexterous fingers of his hyper roommate though.

"Wihihihilsonaaahahahahah.......sssstooooohahahahahahooooop! I'll....I'll gihihihihive you ohohone lahahahast chaaa-EEEHEEHEEHeheheheheheeh!" Logan literally squealed much to his chagrin as he broke into high-pitched giggles with Wade switching spots to now claw mercilessly at his stomach and waist.

"Oh I've never heard a Wolverine squeal before. It's just the gift that keeps on giving. Definitely going to need that as my new ringtone. But hmmm, I think this could be better...," Wade mused as his fingers kept scratching over the buttons going down Logan's flannel shirt, no doubt hindering his tickling efforts if only a little.

In the next second he grabbed Logan's overshirt and pulled hard in opposite directions to pop all the buttons as the remote was finally freed and clattered to the floor. The mercenary smirked as he saw that Logan wasn't wearing anything underneath as his hairy, heavy-muscled torso was now on full display.

Logan was grateful that it had all stopped and the remote was now nowhere near him as he leaned his head back and tried to catch his breath.

"........Fuck......Okay.....You win you win. Just take the fucking thing.....and go ahead and watch your stupid ass shoHOHohOhOHOhoW! NAAAAHOHOHOHOOOOO!!"

Logan had thought it was over, but his momentary sparkle of hope vanished instantly as Wade paid the controller no mind and lunged for him again.

"Ahh yes, that's much better! Now I can really get my hands in here!" Wade smirked in delight with his fingers currently buried and wriggling into Logan's armpits while the feral man roared with deep belly laughs before fizzling into helpless wheezes.

"Ohoho you're very tickly here, aren't you? Bet you wish you would've chosen a safe word now, huh? Or not. Maybe you're enjoying this. Is that it? Don't lie to me now."

"I'm gohohohohonna fffffff-aaahahahhahahah.....fuhuhuhucking k-kihihihill yooooou!" Logan wheezed out as he weakly smacked at Wade's arms and haphazardly kicked his legs around.

"Awww don't be mean, peanut. I just can't get enough of the sound of your laugh. That's not a crime, is it?"

Logan couldn't remember having ever been tickled like this. It had been so long since he'd been this close to anybody, and his memory of such things was pretty fuzzy of anything that happened before his regrettable incident. After those events he'd become even more withdrawn and had fallen deep into depression from the unbearable guilt he felt, confident that he never deserved to be happy again.

And then this annoying little fucker appeared at that bar one day and dragged him on the wildest, most fucked up adventure he could ever recall being on. If at the beginning of all that someone had told him that Wade and he were going to become great friends then he would have laughed right in their face.

But it did happen, and Logan was taken-aback to finally be around someone again who actually cared about his well-being. Someone who wanted the best for him and to make sure that he knew that he mattered. Someone who wanted nothing more than for him to be happy.

And Deadpool was always trying to make him laugh. The look of genuine happiness on Wade's face was unmatched whenever one of his jokes managed to land and make Logan chuckle. The X-man seemed to smile a lot more these days, but laughing was still a rare occurrence for him, which is why Logan was so defensive against the tickling that was currently causing him to do so.

But could he say with complete honesty that he truly hated all this? The answer irked him a little bit because it was no, he didn't hate it, but he was conflicted because he still didn't think he should be allowed to feel pure joy again. 

He felt that guilt come up again when he admitted to himself that laughing like this actually felt good. He didn't deserve to feel good. Ever. But obviously Wade had a difference of opinion on that. Wanting him to smile. Wanting him to laugh. Wanting him to let go of his guilt and be happy in this universe that undoubtedly wouldn't be here without him.

"Don't think I forgot about this little sweet spot!"

Wade brought him out of these thoughts rather quickly once he began scribbling all ten fingers over his taut, bare stomach as the Wolverine tossed his head back in howling laughter with his eyes squeezed shut and tears forming in the corners of them.

"Coochie coochie coo! Awwww wittle Wolvie is so ticklish! Yes, he is! Yes, he is!" The merc cooed playfully, knowing all these teases were key to breaking down Logan's mental barriers. And it was working as Logan finally stopped feeling sorry for himself and just gave into it all.

"W-Waaade nooooo! Aahahahahahaah! Cuhuhuhut it ohohhohout! Pleeheheheheeease!"

The merc cocked his head in amusement, having never heard Logan even come close to begging for anything before.

"Oooooh this really is a killer spot, isn't it? Is this rock-hard belly of yours the most ticklish of all? How ironic," Wade mused while absentmindedly squirming a finger down into his navel, making Logan buck strongly and shriek with unrestrained giggles.

"Shihihihiiiiit! Aaaheehehehehehee! Noohohohooot in thehehehere! Fohohor fuhuhuhucks saahaahaakeheehehehehehahahah-st-stoohahahahop tihihihickling! You're kihihhihillin' meheeheehee!"

Wade's stomach did a little somersault at how vulnerable Logan was now being with him. It was all he ever wanted was to see his friend let go of all his anger and self-loathing of the past and surrender himself to the present day. 

Logan was laughing freely now. He wasn't grinding his teeth and trying to hold anything in anymore and he even stopped really fighting to get Wade off of him.  His face and chest were flushed, tears running down his cheeks as he just laid there in a squirming heap with his wide-open mouth releasing endless peals of laughter and pleas for mercy.

In all honesty Wade didn't want to stop just so he could keep Logan in this state for as long as possible where he was freed from the prison of his own mind, though he knew that he'd have to let him go eventually. Still not quite this second.

"Stop? But I couldn't possibly! Look how happy it's making you! I'd be an asshole to rob you of that! Lucky for you I'm such a good friend, huh?! Tickletickletickletickle! Laugh it up, buddy!" He kept ruthlessly tickling his heaving belly while his other hand slid up to creep back into his armpit, rendering Logan into a powerless wheezing wreck.

"Nohohohooot fahahahaaair! Baahahhhahahaha! Wahahade pleeeease! I cahahahaa-cahahaan't tahahake anymohohohore! Uhuhuhuhuncle!"

Between Wade's unrelenting yapping and Logan's loud fits of laughter they both failed to hear the sound of the front doorknob rattling right before it opened and in walked Dopinder with several plastic bags of take-out in his hands.

"Hello? Your UberEats order is here, Mr. Logan. I've got your hot wings and your pizza rolls and your-AAAH!!" Dopinder let out a scream as he rounded the corner to find Wade straddling and feeling up a howling, red-faced and bare-chested Wolverine. 

Upon hearing the terrified cry Wade immediately paused what he was doing as he looked back over his shoulder like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Uhh heeeey Dopinder. Ummm.....This isn't what it looks like.....," he had a guilty look on his face, but quickly revealed his facade as he broke into a devious grin, "Just fucking with you! It's totally what it looks like!"

"And-And what exactly does it look like?" The younger man dared to ask despite his better judgement.

"Well you see Dopinder when two men start living together they begin to develop these feelings; feelings that cause them to get these strong urges that they just can't ignore and-," Wade's tirade of nonsense was cut off as Logan took the opportunity to give him a hard shove and flip him over the back of the couch between pants for air

"Fucking idiot. Don't...freak out, kid. The asshole....was just ticklin' me...is all," Logan breathlessly grunted while moving to take a normal seated position on the couch as Wade then popped his head up from the back.

"That's what he wants to call it. Wanna get in on this action, Dopinder?"

"Oh uhh hehe, n-no thank you. I actually have some more deliveries to get finished. Ermm, next time perhaps," he stuttered nervously as he gingerly placed the food down onto the coffee table in front of them and began to make his exit from the apartment.

"Don't think I'm not holding you to that," Wade teased, making his former cab driver blush and dart out through the door as Wade chuckled and nudged Logan in the shoulder, "Hehehe, did you see how flustered he got? I'll bet he's even more ticklish than you are."

"Leave the kid alone, Wilson. You'd probably kill him. He doesn't have a healing factor like I do," Logan snorted, bunching up his shoulders as Wade lightly ran a finger across the back of his neck.

"Ohh I can be gentle if I want. But I'm pretty sure you're the kind of guy who likes it rough," Wade teased as he moved around to the front of the couch to sit next to the other man, surprised to hear Logan let out a low chuckle.

"Was that a laugh? Nice to see you finally start to appreciate my elite level of humor. Maybe I won't have to start with the daily tickle sessions after all."

Logan made a face at that and lifted his brow.

"Daily? Yeah fuck no, that ain't happening. Once in a while......fine. But I don't think I could take it every day," he mentally shivered thinking about what Wade just put him through.

"Tell you what, you start laughing a little more at my jokes and I'll consider it. But no fake laughing! Because I can tell the difference! Especially now that I know what your real laugh sounds like and let me tell you it's going to be hard for me to get enough of it," Wade experimentally grabbed his knee, giving it a firm squeeze and digging his fingers in around the kneecap as Logan instantly wheezed out a laugh and quickly wrenched the hand off of him.

"Alrihight! I get it! Promise I'll try!"

"I guess that's all I can ask of you. Of course I'm still making it my mission to find everywhere else you're ticklish, and what other really bad spots you have.....unless you just want to tell me," Wade suggested with a grin as Logan just smirked right back.

"Now where'd be the fun in that?"

"You know, you are so right, you smug little honey badger. I gotta say though I'm liking this mood you're in now."

"Well it's your fault. Ya tickled me so bad I couldn't even think straight. Seems like you pushed all the negative thoughts right outta my mind," Logan confessed as Wade began to reconsider his earlier promise.

"Is that so? Hmmm maybe those daily tickle sessions are a good idea after all...," Wade teased just to watch Logan squirm at the thought again.

"I don't think so, bub. Besides, look what ya did," he gestured to his wide-open shirt, pointing at all the areas missing buttons, "You ruined my favorite fucking shirt, dickhead."

"Hardly. You've got like twenty of the exact same one. That's all you ever wear," Wade was quick to point out as Logan just shrugged with a smile.

"So? What's your point?"

"My point is you're a walking fashion disaster. But okay, I'll try not to be so rough next time. We can do the gentle stuff if you prefer. So for research purposes can you tell me how you feel about feathers, hm?" He grinned as he saw Logan shift uneasily in his seat.

"You're gettin' a little crazy now, Wilson."

"Oh c'moooon, just imagine a nice, fluffy feather teasing that big ol' neck of yours.....circling your little tummy button....stroking the backs of your knees.....threading between all your toes....I can't imagine that your feet were spared of your adorable weakness."

"Wade...."

"Oooh! What about raspberries?! Those are fun! Bet it would drive you insane if I blew them on your belly. How about we test that out really quick?" Wade took a deep breath and started leaning towards him with his eyes locked onto his stomach.

"Alright cut it out!" Logan's hand caught him by the face and shoved him kind of hard, though couldn't stop himself from chuckling as he shook his head, "Fuckin' hell, you've seriously got a career in how to mentally torture a guy."

"At your service," Wade tipped an invisible hat as he then surveyed all the bags of food on the table in front of them, "So what did you order all of this for?"

"I told ya I was gonna watch the hockey game. Can't watch it without some proper snacks now," he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a tall can of beer as he popped the pull ring and took a long drink out of it while the other man began removing the take-out boxes.

"Chimichangas? Since when do you eat chimichangas?" Wade looked over at him questionably upon opening one of the containers as Logan gave him a half-smile.

"I got those for you, dumbass. Thought maybe you'd wanna hang out and watch the game with me." 

Wade was left momentarily speechless, truly touched by Logan's unexpected gesture.

"Well.....yeah of course. I'd love to. But how come you didn't ask me earlier?"

"Didn't get a chance to because you started bein' an idiot and going off about some other stupid show....'Touched By An Asshole' or something. What kinda pervy ass show is that anywaahaahaays?" Logan giggled, rubbing at his ribs where Wade had now just indignantly poked him.

"It's 'Touched By An Angel', you disrespectful twat. And it's a national treasure. But besides the fact that I've seen every episode, I didn't really want to watch it. I was just trying to get a rise out of you. You seemed tense," Wade admitted as Logan only shrugged and sipped from his beer can.

"When am I not?"

"Umm...Right now. Honestly I haven't you seen this relaxed in.....ever. Even when you're drunk sometimes you're still pretty moody," Wade pointed out as Logan took it in and knew he was right. He'd literally been forced into laughing off all of the burdens that he had carried for many years. His mind currently free from all the adverse feelings and troubles that he'd been endlessly plagued. 

The effects were likely not permanent but at least for the time being he felt good. Having to suffer through a vicious tickle attack to achieve that was more than worth it he decided.

"Hmph. Yeah. I guess you're right," a smile broke across Logan's face as he punched Wade in the shoulder, "Thanks asshole."

"Any time. And if you ever change your mind about the daily ticklings then I'm your guy," Wade was glowing from the actual genuine appreciation he'd just received from the normally cantankerous Wolverine.

"Heh. We'll see," Logan smirked as he bent over to pick up the remote off of the floor and turned on the television ahead of them, switching channels until he found the right one, "So do ya even like hockey?"

Wade nodded enthusiastically.

"Love it so much that I've never watched a game in my entire life," he said matter-of-factly before clapping his hands in excitement when he saw Dogpool trot into the room, patting the spot on the couch next to him as she jumped up.

Logan sighed as he handed his roommate a beer, realizing that the next few hours were going to be filled with Wade obnoxiously asking questions about every little thing that happened in the game. Though he couldn't help but smile as he watched the man-child start happily eating the chimichangas while simultaneously feeding little bits of them to his unusual looking dog.

Truth be told they all were an unusual bunch. Not just the three of them, but Blind Al, Peter, and Dopinder, to name a few. All these people that Wade had brought into his life and openly shared with him. Not to mention without Wade's intervention he never would have met Laura; someone he found he made a fast connection with and was now someone he cared deeply about.

Really Wade had rescued him that day. Rescued him from himself and gave him another reason to keep on living for. He felt his heart warm as he looked over at one of the side tables where Wade kept a framed photo of all of their friends; only now it was a new picture that included Logan, Laura and Mary Puppins in it.

Logan's smile grew as he reached over to pat the dog on the head before Wade made a whimpering noise and leaned his own head towards him to receive the same affection. He chuckled and obliged for a few moments before getting a wicked grin on his face as he snatched the hair piece off of Wade's head, prompting a momentary yelp of pain from the scarred man.

As the merc rubbed at his head while glaring over at him Logan found it impossible not to start laughing while jokingly dangling the toupee up in his hand. Wade then promptly broke into a smirk that told him he was dead, though even with that warning Logan made no attempt to escape.

Wade easily knocked him onto his back again to mercilessly tickle his sides while at the same time making the Wolverine shriek by blowing those promised raspberries into his stomach. And they tickled just as badly as Wade had said.

Yes, they were an unusual bunch, but they were his whole world now. And Logan was never going to let them down. Over his dead body.

[amazingmsme]

Mine For The Taking

AN: Another commission, this time for the lovely @quantumwittness who wanted a lil somethin' somethin' with Stanley and the Narrator. I can't thank you enough for being so patient with me, this past semester was the busiest one I've had in years & writer's block hit hard. So glad I could write this for you, hope you all enjoy! I plan to post a lot more over the summer, so keep an eye out!

The Narrator had a bit of an... obsessive personality. When he found something he loved, he devoted all his energy into that one thing. And ever since he set his sights on Stanley, he's thought about nothing else.

Needless to say, he'd been thrilled when the desk jockey returned his feelings. Stanley was more shy about showing his affection, but the Narrator was flamboyant enough for the both of them.

As it turns out, there were some pretty sweet perks that came with dating an omnipotent entity that controlled the world around you as you knew it. For instance, Stanley could sleep in however long he wants and still make it to work on time. But if he was being honest, the best part of dating the Narrator was the way he seemed to know exactly what Stanley wanted, even when he himself wasn't so sure.

Today he was feeling particularly restless, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact reason as to why. He was twitchy and kept fidgeting in his spot on the couch, casting a glance to his boyfriend every now and then. The Narrator studied his movements carefully, trying to piece together the puzzle that is Stanley.

They were currently cuddling on the bed in his apartment, the sound of rain gently hitting the windows setting the mood for a cozy sort of day. The Narrator watched one of Stanley's legs shake absentmindedly as he stared at the tv screen.

"Stanley dear, you're shaking the whole bed," he teased, resting a hand atop his knee in an attempt to calm his nerves. The leg stilled, going completely rigid under the touch. He noticed how he pressed into his hand ever so slightly. Stanley purposefully avoided meeting his gaze, so he tilted his chin up ever so gently to lock eyes. The Narrator wore a gentle, yet smug smile as he looked him up and down.

"Is there a particular reason you're so restless?" he purred, leaning into his personal space. Stanley shook his head, biting his lip to keep his smile at bay.

"No? There's nothing wrong? No reason for you to be so twitchy and squirmy? Absolutely nothing at all?" he asked, feigning innocence as he pinned him against the bed. Stanley gulped, and in a moment of weakness, his eyes flickered over to his hands.

The Narrator gave a humming chuckle, one that made a shiver run down Stanley's spine. "I think you're lying... You know what I do to liars, Stanley?" He nodded slowly, not bothering to hide his smile now.

"You know what I think?" he asked, not waiting for an answer before continuing. "I think that's what you wanted all along. Well you could've just asked, you know. No need to make yourself suffer in silence," he cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek. Stanley chuckled and rolled his eyes, swatting the hand away.

"My my, so testy. Lucky for you, I have just the thing for that," he mused, reaching for the drawer of their nightstand. He returned holding a pair of fuzzy handcuffs, switching it to his other hand and suddenly one became four. Stanley's eyes widened and he pressed himself against the bed frame, a wobbly smile plastered on his face.

The Narrator held out a hand and Stanley placed his wrist in his open palm. He chuckled, shaking his head, "A bit eager, are we?"

Stanley blushed, weakly smacking his shoulder. The Narrator caught his wrist, tutting as he wagged a disapproving finger. He latched the cuff onto his wrist, raising it above Stanley's head to fasten it to the headboard. He did the same to the other arm, pausing to inspect his handiwork.

He ran his hands down Stanley's arms to his pits, down his ribs and sides to rest on his hips, relishing in the full body shudder he gave off. He drummed his fingers against his skin, eliciting a gasp as he squirmed into the touch. The Narrator squeezed his hips and he chuckled when he bucked and let out a startled giggle.

He crawled to the foot of the bed, raking his hands down Stanley's legs. The anticipation was building in his chest, and the look the Narrator was giving him wasn't helping at all. The soft cuffs latched around his ankles, his legs spread apart as they were fastened to the bed frame.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked and received a wordless nod in response. "Good. Now, are you ready?" Another nod.

The Narrator smirked down at him as he slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. Stanley bit his lip as he watched his hands fiddle with the buttons, his anticipation growing with each passing second. As he reached the last button, he spread open his shirt to reveal a pale torso. He let out a low whistle as he looked Stanley up and down, causing a blush to spread across his cheeks.

He huffed and rolled his eyes, wiggling enticingly. "Just get on with it," he spoke softly, but his impatiently. Stanley rarely spoke, but when he did, he could be quite demanding. His defining trait was arguably his stubbornness, after all.

"My my, so demanding. You're lucky I love you so much," he cooed, leaning in to kiss his forehead, cupping either side of his face. He pulled back, staring at him with complete adoration before striking, scratching either side of his neck. Stanley immediately burst into giggles, scrunching up like a turtle.

The Narrator chuckled at his reactions. "Not expecting that, eh Stanley?" he teased, fluttering his fingers against soft skin. He shook his head, fighting to contain his laughter.

"Stanley, ever the brave soldier, desperately tried to contain his laughter, but to no avail. Because it was at that very moment that his cruel boyfriend launched a surprise attack!" He didn't know if announcing his plans took away the surprise aspect, but judging by Stanley's squeal, he'd say it was rather effective.

"Oh yes, try as he might, he just can't seem to stop giggling," he cooed, kneading into his sides. "It just tickle tickle tickled soooo much, he just couldn't stop laughing!" Stanley whined at his words and twisted from side to side in an attempt to dislodge the Narrator's persistent hands.

"Ah ah ah Stanley, you're not getting out of this one. You quite literally asked for this," he pointed out, snickering to himself. Stanley's blush darkened and his deep chuckles took on a desperate pitch. The Narrator slowly crawled his way up from his sides to his ribs.

He scratched just beneath his ribcage, making him jolt beneath him and tug on his bonds. "Uh oh Stanley. I think I found your tickle spot. Oh wait, I forgot! Everywhere is your tickle spot!" he cheered, spidering up to his armpits and down to his hips before repeating the process multiple times.

Stanley snorted and shook his head. The Narrator cocked his head as he stared down at him.

"No, you don't think so? Then please, by all means Stanley, show me somewhere, anywhere, on your body that isn't painstakingly sensitive," he requested in a soft voice that wasn't condescending in the least.

His boyfriend was laughing too hard to answer, not that he would have anyway. He chose instead to flip him off, earning a dramatic gasp in response.

"Well now that's just rude," he huffed, fingers grazing over bare skin. "But, if you insist."

Stanley furrowed his brows, not sure what he meant. He didn't have much time to ponder before the Narrator was stretching his fingers back to grant access to his palm. He scraped his teeth against the soft skin, and a shriek pierced through the air. His mouth fell open in a wide smile, his nose scrunched adorably.

"You're not really proving your point, I'm afraid," the Narrator said, feigning sympathy. Stanley whined and flapped his hands around in an attempt to escape. "Quit squirming, you're making my job difficult," he chastised playfully and held his wrist in place and pulled his fingers back to keep his palm exposed. Stanley squeaked and fought to close his hands in a tight fist, but the Narrator proved to be stronger.

He alternated which hand he targeted at random, peppering soft kisses, teasing nips, and even a few raspberries against his skin, earning a plethora of giggles, squeals, and snorts. He pulled back to admire Stanley's reactions, watching him with a soft smile.

He traced idle circles on his wrists, keeping him in a fit of giggles. He pressed his fingertips into his flesh, barely enough pressure to be felt. Then he raked his hands down the length of his arms at an agonizingly slow rate. Stanley let out a giggly whine, tugging on the restraints weakly. He repeated the process a few times, smiling fondly at him all the while.

He gave him a moment to catch his breath as he made a show of reaching behind his back, an expression of utter delight overtaking his features. "As the Narrator reached behind him, he felt something soft. And as he pulled it into view, Stanley realized with great terror that he was utterly screwed," he spoke as he waved a long, fluffy feather in the air. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is your favorite feather, right Stanley?" he asked innocently.

The bound man blushed and turned his head away. The Narrator chuckled, "I'll take that as a yes." He twirled it over his neck and ears, earning a string of breathy laughter and embarrassed snorts. He chuckled along with him, adoring ever reaction he drew forth. He wore a evil smirk as he cradled Stanley's head, holding him still so he could torment his sensitive ears to his hearts content with his pesky squirming.

Stanley's laugh was shrill and high pitched as he desperately tried to shield his ear with his shoulder, but to no avail. The Narrator shifted his head to the other side, giggly protests falling from his lover's lips. He squealed when the feather touched back down.

"For as much as he thrashed around and spat threats and half hearted pleas, not once did Stanley actually tell his boyfriend to stop," the Narrator rudely pointed out. Stanley was already blushing a fair amount, but his astute observation turned his face from a warm pink to a cherry red. Stanley could only flip him off as he giggled to his heart's content.

"Again with the rude gestures? Really Stanley, I thought you were above such childish provocations. If you wanted me to kick it up a notch, you could've just said so," he teased, switching spots without warning and swiping the feather in slow, agonizing strokes in his exposed pits. Stanley whined and flexed his muscles, knowing it would do nothing to lessen the sensation.

Without warning, he ditched the feathers and drilled his thumbs in the center of his hollows, eliciting a loud shriek from the man beneath him. He thrashed from side to side, bright laughter filling the room as he continued to lose his mind.

"Yes, this was what Stanley had been after all along. Oh sure he might beg for mercy, or thrash and scream, but if I were to actually stop, he'd be utterly disappointed," the Narrator cooed. "In fact, I think I could go on forever, what do you think Stanley?"

Stanley wheezed, shaking his head. He was laughing too hard to answer, not that he would anyways.

"Y'know, all this tickling is making me hungry. I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm absolutely famished! I could eat a whole rack of ribs right about now... Oh look, how convenient, there's some right in front of me," he hummed, trying not to sound as eager as he felt. Stanley's eyes widened, weak protests flying from his mouth before the Narrator dug into his "meal." The reaction was instantaneous.

If it weren't for the restraints holding him down, he would've folded like a cheap lawn chair, a new wave of hysterics overtaking him. The Narrator nuzzled and growled in his skin as he scraped his teeth over each and every rib. He raised his head to admire the mess Stanley had become. The mess he made him become.

He used Stanley's shirt as a napkin to wipe away barbecue sauce that wasn't there and made a show of licking his fingers. "Mm-mm these are some good ribs. I venture to say they're the best ribs I've ever had," he even talked like his mouth was full, chewing and smacking between words." Stanley would roll his eyes if he wasn't so occupied.

The Narrator returned to his feast, relishing in the giggly shrieks that met his ears. He made obnoxious nomming sounds as he nibbled along his ribcage, reaching down to squeeze his hips just so his hands had something to do. Stanley arched his back as a giddy scream ripped from his throat before he collapsed back onto the bed.

The Narrator worked his way up from the bottom of his ribs to his underarms on one side and from the top down on his other.

"That was delicious, really Stanley, you outdid yourself," he praised as he caught his breath. "But I could go for dessert. You know what goes great with ribs Stanley?" He didn't even wait for an answer before barreling on, "Raspberries."

"No no wait!"

But there was no time for waiting.

He bent down to blow a raspberry just under his ribs, fingers scratching at the dip of his sides. He took a deep breath and blew another, followed by another, peppering his chest and tummy with raspberries that kept him in a constant array of shrieks and cackles. The last raspberry was delivered just above his pant line on the soft stretch of skin below his bellybutton, Stanley's laugh growing a tinge more desperate and whiny. The Narrator drummed his impatient fingers on his stomach as he let him catch his breath. His tummy twitched under every touch, the smile never once left his face.

"Stanley laid there staring at his incredibly handsome boyfriend wondering how in the world he got so lucky while also pondering what the hell he must've done to deserve such evil torment," he playfully growled, vibrating clawed hands on his sides. An ear piercing shriek shot through the air, followed by uncontrollable belly laughter.

The Narrator reached behind him in search of a new tool to aid him on his quest, growing a devilish smirk when he felt a handle and soft bristles. With his free hand, he knocked in the air as if he were at someone's door. Surprisingly, three knocks rang out.

"Who is it, can't you see I'm busy?" he snapped at no one. His expression morphed into one of fond excitement, as if he were seeing an old friend after a long time. All the while, his hands squeezed and kneaded up Stanley's thighs. He was a writhing, desperate excuse of a man, just the way he liked him.

"Oh my goodness, it's been ages since I've seen you! Stanley, our good friend the Adventure Line has decided to drop by for a visit, I hope you don't mind," he teased, pulling the brush out from behind his back and twirling it between his fingers. Stanley shook his head frantically, nervous giggles building up in his throat. "Let's see where it takes us shall we? Oh this'll be fun, don't you agree?"

"Mm mm," he hummed in disagreement, eyes squeezed shut and lips pressed into a thin line attempting to keep his grin at bay. The Narrator smirked, leaning into his personal space and started tracing the brush over the shell of his ear. Stanley squeaked, scrunching his neck in a feeble attempt at protection.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" the Narrator asked, cupping his ear. When he didn't respond, he gave a satisfied huff, "That's what I thought." The trailed the brush down his neck and over his collarbone, oddly enough leaving behind a thin yellow line despite having no paint. In true Adventure Line fashion, it seemed to have a mind of its own, following no rhyme or reason as it swept over Stanley's body. The soft bristles made his skin crawl as shrill giggles and squeals continued to slip past his lips. He writhed and twitched at every touch, whining when a particularly sensitive spot was honed in on. The brush jumped from spot to spot, swirling in repeated patterns and zigzags all over his bound torso and heading for his legs.

"Hm these pesky pants are in the way... I wish you were wearing shorts." No sooner than he voiced his opinions did his wish come true. Stanley shifted his legs on the bed as he realized his boyfriend was only just getting started.

"Nononohoho!" his protest melted into bubbly giggles. The mischievous yellow line traced back and forth between his hips, making him twitch and rock from side to side, loud belly laughter filling the air. The Narrator chuckled along, rolling up his shorts to reveal his pale, skinny legs. He held down his leg with a hand resting on his knee, squeezing sporadically and drawing out a few embarrassed snorts.

When the brush touched down on the soft, supple skin on his inner thigh Stanley practically convulsed. His legs strained against their bonds and he twisted any way he could to try and close them. His laughter took on a desperate pitch the farther down he traveled, much to the Narrator's amusement. He constantly swapped between which leg he targeted just to keep him on edge, and his giggles were all the more sweeter for it.

Snickers poured freely from his lips like a waterfall as the adventure line formed a closing spiral over his kneecap. The touch was maddeningly soft, each flick of the brush caressed his nerves in an unbearably ticklish manner. He let out a sudden gasp when he felt it graze the back of his knee. He shook his head adamantly, having to bite his lip to keep his giddy smile at bay. The Narrator arched a brow in amusement, continuing the lazy brush strokes that took away a piece of Stanley's sanity with every swipe.

"I must say Stanley, I'm rather impressed that you're so ticklish in such odd places," he cooed, teasing the delicate skin as he trailed down his calf. He jerked under the touch, a giggly yelp followed by a nervous glance.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me- here? You're ticklish here of all places? Is there anywhere you aren't devastatingly sensitive?" he taunted, kneading the muscles on his leg. He was rewarded with mirthful hysterics as Stanley fumbled for a retort, but came up short.

Holding his leg in his tickly grip, he picked up the brush and carried on from where he left off. Stanley scrunched his feet as the brush worked over his soles, and by the time the Narrator was done, the bottoms of his feet were solid yellow. He made sure to get every nook and cranny, even spreading his toes apart so he could swipe the silky bristles between each one.

Stanley was wheezing and snorting between bouts of helpless cackles. His body went stiff and he screamed when the brush passed over his ankle. The Narrator arched a brow, intrigued by the new discovery. He drew slow circles around the bone, relishing the breathy snickers and occasional snorts the spot drew out.

"Well Stanley, I think it's safe to say we've reached the end of the Adventure Line. For once," he joked, chuckling under his breath. He twirled the tool between his fingers and in a flash it became an electric toothbrush.

"Now we just have to clean you up." Stanley's eyes bugged out of his head, shaking his head despite the clear excitement written all over his face. "Now I know you might think the toothbrush is too small and tedious for such a task, but I think you'll find it to be rather effective for what I have planned," he purred. He shot him a devious wink as he turned it on, and a foreboding buzz filled Stanley with a giggly dread.

The Narrator started from the bottom up, and his laughter reached new heights. The brush worked surprisingly well, erasing any trace of the yellow line from before. The only thing it left in its wake was an extremely giggly Stanley thrashing around on the bed. He followed the line he had drawn just as carefully as did before, lingering around the back of his knees just for good measure.

"I'm not stalling Stanley, I'm trying to make sure I get you nice and clean!" he insisted, drilling the spinning bristles in the center. He shrieked, shaking his leg as much as he could, though it did little to help. His laugh got a little faster and breathier when the toothbrush met his inner thighs, whines and a few moans slipping in every once in a while. And what kind of boyfriend would he be if he just ignored that?

"Glad to hear you're enjoying yourself," he purred, trailing up his other leg. He got an embarrassed moan in response and he tried to his blushing face behind his raised arm. He traced the toothbrush along his waistline, taking his sweet time despite Stanley's wild bucking.

His laugh went into silent hysterics when the Narrator dipped the bristles in his bellybutton and held it there for a full minute before continuing on his cruel journey. When he noticed the shade of red his face had turned, he decided to show him some mercy by cutting to the chase wrapped up. He scrubbed off the last scraps of the line from his skin and turned the device off. Stanley panted heavily, resting his head on the pillow with a tired smile plastered on his face. The Narrator rubbed his palms over his arms and down his chest to soothe his nerves.

"You were wonderful dear," the Narrator spoke softly as he leaned in for a kiss. He uncuffed him and reached across the nightstand for a glass of water, offering it to him as he sat up. The Narrator took his seat next to him, resting an arm around his shoulders as he snuggled close. He peppered his face and neck with sweet kisses that ghosted over his skin, keeping him feeling happy and tingly. His hands still wondered over his body offering a soothing massage wherever they went.

"Next time don't be afraid to ask."

[the-universal-sun]

Okay I just thought of something what if Stan regressed after getting his memory waist, because even though everything of Stanley Pines got a waste his mind still knew deep down that the headspace was healing so doing the most mentally traumatic thing that ever happened to him in his life his brain request to his age basically I want to Stanley with no memories

Sorry it took so long to get this out, I got hit by a bout of massive writer's block, but I got through it okay. Deep apologies for how late this is @pinkyshy10 and my other wonderful anon, I know this was requested back in December, but I hope you enjoy reading this! I hope I encapsulated your visions when writing, please let me know if I was off the mark, though! But thank you so so very much for your requests! I enjoyed writing it so much! Fun Fact: I've never watched Treasure Planet before, but it does seem super interesting, so I might give it a try along with the other movies you lovely people suggested that Stan, Ford, and Fiddleford may watch when Little. Please enjoy reading!

And as always, I'm open to helpful comments and critiques on my writing!

Stay warm!

XX

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Stan...

His name is Stan. He knows this, he was told this. But, it feels true, his name is Stan, he's a great uncle to Dipper and Mabel and the twin brother to Ford. His memories aren't all there, very little are, in fact. His niece, Mabel, her scrapbook helped him some, he can remember the summer and the fond emotions attached to the memories. To most of the memories. The brief ones with the man...with Stanford bring an ache to his chest, but he hopes the more he remembers him, the happier the memories will be.

Stan fumbles around in his room, trying to familiarize himself with the surroundings, half formed memories helping him along and silently guiding his steps. He's looking for something, he thinks as he scratches his head, the Fez having been taken off and set aside, something important. But he doesn't know what. More accurately, he can't remember what. He looks around his room again, trying to see if something stands out to him when he spots a lump under the covers of his bed. He grabs the edges of his comforter and pulls it back, revealing a old looking stuffed bear, looking closely he sees it's wearing a little sweater vest. Cute. Is this something he kept from his childhood or something? It's not like he would remember.

He picks up the bear delicately. No, he knows this bear, the memories are there, right in his reach. Ah, this is a gift he got when he was a young man. This is Poindexter, what a nerdy name. Stan sits on the edge of the bed, carefully cradling his stuffy, the action making his head start to go fuzzy. Not bad, not how it is when he's remembering things, but a pleasant sort of fuzzy, one that relaxes his body, making him gently rock back and forth on the edge of the bed. This is nice, he distantly thinks, bringing the teddy up to rub to his and rubbing the ears against his lips. He laughs at the ticklish feeling that brings. He does that for a long time, rocking and rubbing his teddy against his mouth before he grows bored, standing up and stretching. What should he do? He hums and taps his hands as he thinks, he'll go see if there's any cartoons playing this late. Stan doesn’t quite know why he wants cartoons, but nothing else appeals to him right now. He grabs the first blanket he sees, a hand-stitched quilt with teddy bears on the edges, and trudges off downstairs.

The living room is still a mess when he gets there, but the tv is plugged and still works, so Stan settles down in front of it, Poindexter and the blankie-blanket from his room in his lap. He turns the dials over and over again, but he can't find anything bedsides stupid commercials and the news. He's getting more and more annoyed, his breathing going heavy and his mumbling growing louder and louder. He doesn't care about waking everybody up, he wants cartoons, but he's not seeing them. Stan is about to hit the glass in anger when he hears his brother's voice.

"Stanley? What are doing? It's late and you need to rest, you've especially had a long and trying day." Stanford spoke softly, voice confused.

"Cartoons." Stan replied, pointing of the tv it's the one word he can move his tongue around. Why does he find it hard to speak again? Oh yeah-

"What? Stanley there aren't any cartoons even on there." Ford said, confused and more than a little worried for his brother's mental state.

Oh yeah, there aren't any cartoons on. Which is the problem. Stan points to the tv again, staring at Ford. Will he help? Stan just wants to watch cartoons with his Teddy and Blankie and not think of memories or triangles or monsters, he just wants to let himself be-be. Be what? He looks at himself, soft pajamas with cars on them, his teddy bear quilt and Poindexter. His head feels fuzzy, but not as fuzzy as it can get-as he wants it to get. He wants to be-

Small. Ah. That's what it is, he remembers now. Not all of it, but most of it. Sometimes when everything is too much or too loud or too overwhelming, his mind goes smaller. Littler, the internet said he "regresses" and that it can help relax him. And it does, and he likes it, that fuzzy feeling and wanting nothing more than to color and cuddle with his teddy. Except for the times he gets really lonely, wanting his brother here with him. And he is here now, isn't he? And he said he'd take care of Stanley, so that must mean with this too, right? Does Ford know about this? Stan doesn't remember if he does or not, and he can't bring himself to ask, can't get his mouth to work. Instead he just keeps pointing to the tv and looking at is brother, he still wants to watch cartoons.

"Ah-alright, then, Stanley. I can help you find something?" Ford sounds like he's asking a question, sitting next to Stanley and tuning the dials on the box set-the remote was destroyed sometime during Weirdmaggedon. He finagles it with with more success, stopping to let each channel fix and find itself in between the static, having more patience than his brother in this regard. He's about 20 channels deep at this point when the staticky screens stabilizes to a cartoon unfamiliar to Ford, hazy as the screen is. He looks at the screen, it must be after his time, the animation different from what he knew of back in the 80s. What is it-

"Treasure Planet!" Stan loves this movie when he feels small. It has space pirates and ships that move in the sky! Stan especially loves it because it was based on his and Ford's favorite book growing up, Treasure Island, but much cooler because they were also in space. He excitedly pats the space next to him, Ford has to stay and watch this, he'd love it! Stan chants little "stay stay stay"s as he pats the carpet beside him, Ford slowly and softly easing down beside him, tugging gently on the corner of Stan's teddy blankie to cover him. He doesn't need to, because Stan huddles in close, practically on Ford's lap, and spreads the blanket over both of them, Poindexter still gripped in his hands.

Stan, now that he has his cartoons and has his brother, blankie, and Poindexter, is more than willing to let the fuzzy in his head take over, relaxing into Ford's side, bringing Poindexter's ear back up to his mouth-he's not gonna chew on it, just rub it on his lips, that's all. Like before.

"Treasure Planet, hmm? Sounds kind of like Treasure Island, do you remember that book, Stanley? It was our favorite-!" Stan slaps a hand over Ford's mouth to make him quiet-shushing someone was rude, said Ma', but Ford was talking and Stan didn't want to miss any of the movie-luckily it was just starting so he didn't miss much. He cuddles closer to his brother, wrapping his hand, now free after Ford removed it, around his twin's arm, practically crawling in his lap and rocking softly, easy rocking to help soothe his excitement. He loved Treasure Planet so much, and now Ford can watch it and love it, too, so he's extra excited!

"Okay, Okay, Stanley, I'll be quiet. Sorry." Ford softly whispered, starring at Stan, who was enraptured by the television screen, with a soft look that bordered on confusion, he doesn't exactly understand what's happening, and hopes it's not a side-affect of the memory gun. But Stanley seems to happy and relaxed, something he hasn't seen in near 40 years, so whatever his concerns are, they can wait until the morning. Ford settles down, wrapping an arm around Stanley, softly rubbing his back, and turns his attention back to the movie. It does seem very interesting.

[starlightrosa]

Hi hi!!- aghh this is so embarrassing but ykw im breaking my outter shy bubble! Can you make a little Ler!Ford headcannons or a little write prompt scenario or something-? If not its ok!!- i wont be mad!!

Ford is just a big comfort character for me idk why ;^; anywhos have a cookie for coolness!-🍪

Aww hello there, dearest! Don’t be embarrassed, my lovely, I don’t bite!

*chomps cookie* Yum, thanks :3

headcannons for you :)

Ford, I feel, would be a ler leaning switch. He targets Dipper and Mabel most, but sometimes he goes for Stanley.

He definitely once made up a fake entry in one of the journals, explaining a rare sighting of a monster to fool Dipper. That monster being, the Tickle Monster. Gets Dipper every time!

Five fingers all on a tickle spot is bad enough? But Ford has six. So if he finds that tickle spot, his lee is an absolute GONER.

and now for lee!Ford <3

Ford as lee is a bit more common than one would assume. I mean, the guy spent years between dimensions. Who wouldn’t be a little touch-starved?

He prefers softer tickles to rougher ones. But if he’s stressed, he will go to Stanley. His brother is a fearsome tickler, and sometimes you just wanna laugh your lil head off and forget your problems.

Tickle fights with Mabel are common. Sometimes he wins. Sometimes he don’t.

Ford wears a turtleneck and a jacket. I’ve never seen him take it off in the show. It might be cold in Gravity Falls… or Ford is insanely ticklish on his torso and neck areas, wink nudge ;)

I think that’s all I have for now, lovely! Thank you for the ask, a pleasure meeting you :)

[simpstantruther]

Hihihi discard from chapter 17 of Hungry Heart before I switched up 🫣 unfinished obvi

In the morning, you chew hollowly on dry cereal.

The TV in your room is a little busted, so you turned it to the morning news and just listened to a bushy lipped anchor knock topical quips back and forth about Walter Mondale with his co-host, even though if he leaned into the wrong spot his visage would get warped into a swirl of dead pixels.

It feels oddly… nice, to wake up in the morning with something to do. A goal. A task. Expectations. There’s something light in your chest. Yeah, you could go to work today and fuck up royally and end up in a cement mixer by midnight (and really, you could always end a day that way). But you could also give it your honest, best shot.

It felt nice that you had the opportunity to try again. That’s the hope you’re clinging to, to ignore the fact that now, you’re alone in the motel room.

Last night, Stanley crawled back into bed beside you smelling like cigarette smoke and blood. You had missed the smell of his cheapo cigarettes. The blood, not so much.

His right hand was wrapped in a strip of ripped cloth when it slid over your waist and pulled you back against his chest. You stopped breathing.

You should be used to this by now.

You should be used to wading in the uncertainty with Stanley, your feet stuck too deeply in the sand to get back to shore. You should be used to the choked up feeling that sits in your throat, heavy and suffocating like the truth. You love him. He knows. He doesn’t love you.

He came back anyways. And he granted you the kindness of hiding your face in the darkness of the motel room. He’s sweet like that. But with his arms draped around you, he takes your injured hand into his. Not sweet. Not sweet at all.

You need to sleep before your first day of work in the morning. You don’t need to be studying the way your hand fits with his, thick fingers closing around yours. Or the tender way his thumb grazes over the heel of your hand. You don’t need to be biting your lip, using all the restraint you have left to keep yourself from turning in his arms and burying your face in the ticklish fur of his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Stanley whispers into the blue darkness of the room. Your heart is pounding in your ears, so loud you can barely hear the way his voice cracks, weak and trapped in his throat.

“What for?��� You ask. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You feel his chest tighten, his stomach clenching against you.

“What are you talkin’ about, didn’t do nothin’ wrong. I fucked up. I hurt you. I—“

“I’m fine.” You force out again. The words nearly strangle you. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You turn, finally. He’s backlit by the pale light from the neon sign outside. All you can really make out is the glimmer in his eyes. They look puffy. He must have cried.

You should be proud. You want to feel vindicated. You want to take pleasure in his guilt. For a moment, when you saw his bloody knuckles, you feel that old competitive spark. He wasn’t suffering, he was just one-upping you.

But you know better now. You’re grown. You’re over the pining and fighting and competing. And when you see him looking at you like that, god, hasn’t he been tortured enough? The last thing you want to do is punish him for stepping on the landmine that is you.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for my bad decisions, Stanley. I’m a big girl. I told you.” You sigh and cup his face with your hands, brushing away the wetness beneath his eyes. “I can fuck things up all by myself, you know. You don’t even have to lift a finger.”

He scoffs and smiles crookedly. “Heh. You sound real proud of that.”

“It’s a talent.”

His eyebrows lift with tired amusement, but his smile falls when you wince away from his attempt to entwine your fingers again. He sighs. “You still gotta ice that hand.”

“It’s fine, Stanley.” You shake the pain out in the air. “What do you care?”

“What do ya mean, what do I care?” He scoffs, scandalized like you insulted his favorite southpaw or something. “—Reflects badly on me. Fuck kind of boxer do I look like if you’re going around with a fucked up fist like you’re fightin’ yer own battles? What else am I here for?”

You want to laugh. What else is he here for? You wish it was still that simple. You wish you wouldn’t be satisfied just to watch his stupid mullet getting tossed around in the wind when he drives with the top down. You wish it wasn’t enough just to listen to his playful insults, to hear him make himself laugh. But it is. Not enough to make you full, of course. Just enough to keep you begging for scraps.

“Looking pretty.” You tell him. “Besides—“ You run your hand down his arm

His face crinkles in disagreement and he looks down and away.

“Don’t jerk me around.” He mumbles, as if he’s ashamed to even react.

“Why?” You grin and force him onto his back so you can pin him to the bed. “I like jerkin’ you around. Thought you liked it too.”

He can’t be serious, can he? But the way he looks down at you, so unsure of himself, you’re not so sure that he isn’t.

You want to bully him out of being sad, like he does with you. If only for the fact that he’s so bad at taking compliments.

You sit together in the silence for a moment, before taking your proper place tangled around Stanley like a knot. Legs entwined together, head under his chin, cheek against the swell of his chest. You could die happy here, as long as you did it before you got the chance to think too hard.

[queenimmadolla]

Ok but question about my favourite family in the whole world. How would Eddie and the reader react if one day Penny comes back home from kindergartens all happy saying that she has "boyfriend"? Because while I can see the reader acting all interesting and say "He shared his food with you? Oh it must be true love then", I can totally see Eddie acting all silly (like Penny would describe him) and by being the perfect drama queen he always is would say things like "but I thought I was your boyfriend" and things like that.

I'm so curious to know what you think of this and what you think their reaction would be 😅❤️

OMG, okay so Penny might as well punch him in the balls because Eddie would fall to his KNEES. That is his baby girl. Reader is like whatevs cause penny bullies boys into liking her back and she’d rather her go through that phase while she’s this young as opposed to upper elementary levels. Plus, she enjoys the joy Penny seems to have about talking about it, Reader ain’t looking forward to having to comfort her daughter in the future when she experiences heartbreak (cause her hearts gonna break, too) so she’ll be happy to entertain all the innocent puppy love, it goes a lil sumn like dis

  “Daddy, what are you doin?” She’d laugh as she watched him, splayed face down on the livingroom floor.

  He’d groan and writhe and she’d kneel down to rub his back and sooth him even though she was completely aware her daddy was being silly again, her little mouth stretched into the biggest smile.

  Eddie would let out the most dramatic of gasps when he’d stop his bit to peek his eye open and catch sight of it, “You’re smiling? You just ended my world and you’re smiling?!”

  “No!” Penny laughed out, “I din’t end it!”

  “You did,” Eddie was quick, arms reaching out to snatch her waist and yank her down with him while your mini-me shrieked with joy, “And for that, my offspring, you must pay.”

  “No, no, no!” She grunted out between giggles, trying to squirm her way out of Eddie’s grasp since she knew what was coming.

  “Oh, yes. Here comes. . . MR. CLAW!” He bellowed out, voice deepened for effect and Penny’s shrieks heightened in pitch as Eddie’s hand stiffened to resemble a claw before he began his tickle assault on her tummy and sides where she was most ticklish (actually, she was most ticklish on her armpits but that made her pee, Eddie wouldn’t be making that mistake again).

  Penny was practically convulsing, little limbs contorting to try and escape her ‘punishment’ as she laughed and screamed.

  You couldn’t help but laugh along with them, and your laugh intensified when baby Wayne joined in, his laugh so obviously fake and forced, from his high chair while you made him and Penny a snack to keep them satisfied until dinner was ready.

  Penny had told you all about her little ‘boyfriend’ when you’d picked her up from school. You’d indulged her, overly enthused in your replies (‘Oh, he let you color with him and he got you a stuffed bear?’ She’d demanded one, ‘I guess we better go pick something out for him, too, yeah?) but you were more amused than anything. Your daughter’s favor was fleeting for the most part, you were positive she liked the idea of having a boyfriend more than actually having some little boy dote on her because this boyfriend was her fifth so far into the school year and she was only three months in.

  And you’d been informed by her teacher that Penny would literally chase them around the playground and classroom until they were forced to agree to be her boyfriend (but she’d shy away from one boy in particular, usually refusing to interact with him when he’d approach her, interesting).

  Then a week later you got to hear about how Stanley ‘pickeded his nose, mom! And then—and then ate it!’, so she told him he wasn’t her boyfriend anymore. 

  You were sure this one would be no different and you also had a sneaking suspicion that Eddie’s reaction also played a part in whether Penny would have a ‘boyfriend’ that week or not.

  “You gonna break up with him?” Eddie asked, smirking as he continued to tickle her.

  “No!” Penny refused, face darkening with how hard she was laughing.

  “Break up with him,” Eddie goaded, his tickle attack seizing to allow her to catch her breath. Penny was practically heaving, her hair a mess from all her wiggling and the torturous tickles she’d endured, yet she still proved herself to be a Munson.

  “No, daddy.” She whispered out in defiance, mouth breaking into another smile as she tensed her body to prepare for an incoming wave of tickles. 

  Instead, Eddie cradled her in his lap and pressed his forehead to her sweaty one with a pout, “Thought you were gonna grow old with me, little bitty pretty one?”

  “But yer already old, daddy.” 

  The pain on Eddie’s face looked authentic and though you were sure she didn’t mean it as an insult, it hurt you too.

  Eddie rolled onto his side, again taking Penny with him as he curled into the fetal position. 

  “That’s it. You’ve gone and done it. You’re not allowed to date until you’re married.”

[amazingmsme]

Maybe D, H, K, and L for The Narrator for the tickly alphabet?

Thank you, I am such a sucker for this bastard, it’s time to talk about him getting wrecked!

D. Death Spot | What is their most ticklish spot?

Ooo I’m so torn on this one cause he’s so ticklish on his neck & back but I love the idea of his thighs being a major hot spot, so these spots are tied for his death spot. & also his tummy

H. Habits | As a lee/ler or both, do they have specific habits when it comes to tickling?

The Narrator loves to use his narrating ability to restrain & tickle his lee aka Stanley. He also really likes to use raspberries & tickly kisses. He doesn’t really have any habits as a lee, but he tends to taunt & antagonize whoever is wrecking him so that they don’t hold back

K. Killer Move | As a ler, do they have special skills to use against their lees and drive them crazy with?

Narrating as he’s tickling is absolutely his killer move, he’ll describe what he’s doing & even describes how it feels & it makes it 10,000 times worst

L. Laughter | What does their laughter sound like when they are tickled?

His laugh is mid range but just slightly more on the high pitched side of the spectrum. Very bubbly & is a nervous giggle & he has these deep belly chuckles that melt Stanley’s heart

[the-universal-sun]

if you don't mind could you write regressed Stan falling sick, with fiddleford and/or Stanford taking care of him?

It's totally okay if you don't want to write it but if you do Thanks very much :)

I decided to do Fiddleford as Stan’s caretaker for this one! I’m trying to take turns, you know! Please let me know how you like it!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stan can feel Fidds’ eyes on him as he plays with some wooden blocks, a pout forming on his lips. Fidds was overreacting, he wasn’t sick or nothing. His nose is just runny and he has a little cough. Only a tickle in his throat, a constant one. He sniffles as he brings his cup of orange juice, his favorite, up to his mouth and sucks it down, his throat feeling more ticklish than ever, making him cough while drinking his juice. Which causes him to start choking on it as Fidds rushes over to help. Who’s Stan kidding? He feels icky all over, he just didn’t want to be fussed over because what if Fidds became annoyed with him? Got tired of looking after him and left? He doesn’t know what he’s do without Fidds.

“Stanley! Ohmagosh! Are you alright!? Breathe, baby, breathe.” Fidds thumped on Stan’s back, getting all the juice out his throat. Stan coughs and wheezes, his sore throat feeling worse than it is. He sniffles again, this time from the need to cry. He tries to hold it in, but he feels so awful and he aches all over and he choked on his favorite juice! He just wants to cuddle in bed with his blankie and stuffies and Fidds!

“Oh there, Sugar Bug, ‘S alright, I’ve got ya. That was mighty scary huh?” No, Fidds! Well, yes! It was scary but Stan’s not crying because of that, he’s crying because…because…because he’s sick and tired! He whines and shakes his head, burying it in Fidds chest when the movement makes his head hurt and go all spinny.

“Oh? What’s the matter, hmm? It wasn’t scary? Or are ya’ crying because it made you feel bad?” Fidds stroked Stan’s sweaty curls and paused, “Oh now, I think it know the problem. You’ve got sick, I can feel your fever and I bet that’s not the only thing going on,” Stan whines and shakes his head, softer, again, “Okay now, it’s time to get you in bed and get some med-ah rest. Rest!” Stan gets up with prompting, his legs feel shaky, so they walk super slowly and Fidds makes him put a hand on the wall when they go up the stairs so he doesn’t slip.

Stan grumbles and coughs a bit as he’s slipped in bed, Fidds tucking Poindexter and his blankie tightly around him. “A good think you still got yer jammies on, now ain’t it? Now stay right there, I’m gonna get some juice and a cold cloth for you.” Stan wonders where Fidds thought he’d go. He snuggles down deeper into the warmth of his blankie, absently chewing on Poindexters ear. He still feels icky, but he’s now cozy and sleepy, his eyes feel heavy, like he can barely keep them open.

“Come now, Darlin’, sit up for me a little. Gotta get this juice in ya’” Stan whines as Fidds helps him sit up. Doesn’t he know Stan’s sick? He needs to lay down and sleep. He scrunches up his face as he drinks his juice with Fidds’ help, it tastes different. It tastes kind of icky, but it’s probably because he’s sick, right? Things don’t taste right when you’re sick, that what he’s always been told. Stan doesn’t know why Fidds looks so nervous when he’s drinking his juice, or why he sighs when he finishes. He doesn’t really care to think right now, he feels heavy, warm and heavy. He shivers when a cold wash cloth is placed on his forehead, he doesn’t remember laying back down, but it must’ve been Fidds’ doing.

“Just get some sleep now, Pumpkin, I’ll be here the entire time.” Stan’s blankie and stuffy is tucked in with him again, Fidds slipping a pacifier in his mouth when he goes to chew on Poindexter’s ear again. He isn’t super achy anymore, but he is so tired. He can barely hear the story being read to him, but he cuddles his face against Fidds’ hip anyways. Stan was being so silly earlier, of course he wasn’t going to be abandoned for being sick, not by Fidds at least. This shows that Fidds loves him. And he loves Fidds. He loves his Papa.

Stan smiles behind the pacifier as he feels a gently hand brush against his head and pulling him closer.

[ninjabutterflybaconstrip82727991]

Paul:Gahahahahahaha! St-Stahahahp! Nohohoho! Please!

Gene:Bwahahahahaha! Wahahahahaha! I Can’t Take It!! That Tickles!!!

Ace:Nohohoho! I~I Can’t Take This Anymore! Help Mehehehe!

Peter:Wahahahahaha! Mahahahan! I Can’t Take It!!!!

Tickle a KISS Member!

Gene:Ticklish On The Sides!

Eric:Ticklish On The Neck!!!!

[melody-everbelle]

Ticklish (Stan Laurel x Reader)

Title: Ticklish

Pairing: Stan Laurel x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 565

Warning(s): Making out, tickling, and fluff

Summary: What was supposed to be a make-out session between you and Stan turns into an all-out tickle fight.

Author’s Note: So... I basically wrote this fanfic as a way to get over my fear of the tickle torture scene from the film Way Out West.

Like my Nathan Chen fanfic Cheer Up!, I'm embarrassed because there's tickling in it, but I don't think it should be that big of a deal.

***

It was a rainy day, and you and Stan were lying together in bed. It was the weekend, which meant that not only would Stan give his friend Oliver a break from his troubles, but it also gave you the chance to spend time with your boyfriend. As you were resting against his chest, you felt a surge of inspiration that you couldn't help but smirk at Stan.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Stan?" You winked.

"I certainly am," Stan replied before planting a kiss on your lips.

And so it went, an innocent kiss turned into a passionate make-out. As you got on top of him, you couldn't help but dig your fingers under his shirt. Your fingers spidered all over his sides that Stan's lips parted away from yours, a laugh escaping from his lips.

"Oh my gosh, Stan," you laughed, "are you... ticklish?"

"What? No, I'm not," he continued, tinges of pink coloring his cheeks.

"Aww, come on," you cooed, "you know what this means."

You started lightly poking his stomach, with Stan giggling and squirming all over the bed. Eventually, your fingers moved all the way up to his armpits, where the giggling turned into straight up laughter.

"HAHAHAHA, STOP IT, Y/N!!" Stan shrieked, struggling to escape from your torturous tickling.

"As much as I'd love to, Stanley," you teased, trying not to laugh, "there's just one more spot that needs it." You moved down to his feet, where his soles and your fingers met.

"NOHOHOHO, NOHAHAHAT MY FEHEHEET!" Stan shrieked once again as your fingers danced all over his soles.

"Aww, look how cute you are," you playfully taunted.

Admittedly, you took pleasure in knowing that his feet were sensitive, so you couldn't help but let out a laugh. You continued your tickling until Stan stopped you, grabbing your arms and throwing you back onto the bed, with him now on top of you.

Oh snap, you thought as both of your arms were bound to the bed by your boyfriend's hands. Now what? You were met with Stan's stern but seductive expression, which turned into a devilish smirk. In turn, he started to get back at you by tickling you, starting with your armpits and stomach.

"No, Stan, wait—HAHAHA, STAHAHAHAHAHAN, STAHAHAHAHAP IT, PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!" You squealed as you struggled to be released from his tickling.

"Not a chance, Y/N!" Stan playfully chided as he moved all the way down to your feet, giving them the same treatment.

Despite how torturous this was, your face lit up in pleasure, savoring every bit of the tickling. Eventually, Stan slowed down to the point of stopping, and collapsed on the bed to check on you.

"You okay, Y/N?" He panted, exhausted from what happened.

With no words spoken, you pressed your lips against his, resulting in a passionate kiss once again. Stan followed suit, kissing you back and caressing your body however he liked. Once your kiss was over, you rested against his chest, with his arm wrapped around your waist.

"That... was a lot of fun, to be honest," you said, your voice hoarse from the laughter.

"Mind if we do this more often?" Stan asked.

"I'd love that very much," you nodded.

Soon, your fingers spidered across his chest, with Stan's following along to yours, and you both let out a laugh simultaneously as a result.

[imjustalilboi]

I'm bored again so have more tickle HCs

_______________________________

Lord X

As a lee..

- 1 out of 10 on the tickle meter, he's a 7.4

- He doesn't get tickled much due to him being busy with his victims

- Even if you were to threaten to tickle him, he would see it as a joke and laugh, giving you the perfect opportunity to act on it

- Ticklish spots are his midriff, sides, underarms, and the base of his tail

- Death spot is the X shaped mark on his stomach, poking at it will have him on the floor squirming

- His laughter is wheezy as hell, occasionally coughing if the state of his vessel is decayed too much

As a ler..

- He sometimes is a bit clumsy with it, but he's got the spirit

- He only lers if someone deserves to get wrecked or as a form of torment

- He's 100% the teasing type, toying around with his lees while he demolishes them

- His favorite lees are Alan (he gets the blunt of it all the time), Faker (or EXE, whatever you wanna call him), Hypno, and Xenophanes

_______________________________

Lucas

As a lee..

- 1 out of 10 on the tickle meter, he's a 10

- God this lil guy is squirmy as hell

- His laugh is high pitched and filled with tiny hiccups

- He will run at any threat of tickles, already trying to hide or run away

- Ticklish spots are his ribs, underarms, stomach, neck, ears, and the inner thighs

- His death spot is his sides, two seconds of skittering across them and he'll be begging for mercy

- He usually gets tickled by Alan, MX, Mr. L, and Abandoned Luigi

As a ler..

- Oh God, you fucked up here

- He is absolutely horrifying with the tickles

- He WILL target every single potential spot on your body, not even giving you the chance to run or talk your way out of it

- He will tease the lights out of you and find your laughter adorable, even laughing with you

- Favorite lees are Alan (this lil fox boy isn't allowed to breathe without getting wrecked), Super Bad Mario, LDO Luigi, Miles (both Rewrite and Starved), and Stanley

_______________________________

Sansfield

- 1 out of 10 on the tickle meter, he's a 6.9

- He usually doesn't run or resist if someone tries, considering that he possibly fell asleep beforehand

- Ticklish spots are his ribs, sides, stomach, and his paws

- His laughter is a bit deep and quiet, but loud enough for everyone to hear

- The amount of resistance from him depends on how lazy or tired he's feeling

As a ler..

- He really won't put that much effort into it, but he will do enough to make you run out of breath

- He will 100% make bad puns about where you're ticklish at and use it to tease you

- He will use his tail to snake around your body and look for ticklish spots to brush against

- His favorite lees are BMS Nermal (especially when the little shii won't shut up), TMJ Garfield, Rewrite, and Luna