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kanene-yaaay · 9 months

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Secrets and the Pros and Cons of Not Running Away

Kanene's notes: I will receive no constructive criticism on this, I saw a character that just keeps being destroyed over and over because he loves and cares too much and since mah bros on that island only SUFFER, I *WILL* take the matters onto my own hands and give them all the tickles and fluff thank you so much for understanding.

Anyway, the Happy Pills Arc is my absolute fave until now, and this animatic is my new obsession. It doesn't has anything to do with the fic, really, but I think it deserves more love drtyuiklkjhg.

Warnings: This is a tickle fanfic. It has hurt/comfort, fluff and some angsty thoughts, but nothing too dark. It happens after the Happy Pills stuff and doesn't follow the canon timeline. Ticklish!Forever and Ler!Philza, Ler!Bad, Ler!Pac, Ler!Mike, Ler!Richarlyson, Ler!Tallulah and Ler!Chayanne. It is 8,000 words long.

[~*~]

Forever woke up.

His eyes hurt when they opened so he kept them closed for a few minutes more, watching the flash of memories run behind his eyelids in blurry movements and sounds.

For the first time in a while his mind was silent, clear from all the effects of what the Federation did to him. His feelings no longer exploded crazy in his chest as they often did during the last few days, fighting to survive before the chemicals from the drugs washed them over and got suppressed by a blinding, fake happiness.

Their kids were gone.

Richarlyson was gone. His son disappeared in thin air and there were no clues or hints that showed any single way to get them back or even know where they went.

The island was in scrambles, empty.

There were explosions and grieving and chaos everywhere. Every parent doing any and everything to cope with the fact that from day to night they’ve got what was the most important for them ripped right from their fingers.

The N.I.N.H.O, his project (his responsibility) didn’t work out this time and they lost everything because of it.

Badboyhalo was losing his colors. Baghera disappeared. Cellbit straight out begged him to not leave him alone during all of this. Mike hadn’t been seen in a long time. Etoiles was trying to keep their hopes up. Everyone asked him what they should do, now. What would he do as their president.

And what did he do? He fucking lost it. He let his feelings get over his head, exploded everything that he could put his eyes on, demolished his base with TNT and threatened Cucurucho, forced the Federation to do a throwback just so they would have an island to put their feet on. Made the Federation see him as a threat and force those pills on him.

He left everyone. His family. His friends.

(What more could he do?)

And everyone should've left him too.

…

And yet…

And yet Pac jumped head first to save him. Accepting to go under Cucurucho’s “treatment” so he could analyze the drugs and find a cure for it. No matter how much he was shaking in fear the entire time, how bad the Federation treated him before or how there was just no certainty that his plan would even work

And yet Philza saw under his mask of smile, past the point of his gun and right into the pain in his eyes in his lowest moment and said that everything would be fine, that he still trusted him, that he knew who he was and how much he cared about the eggs. He said they would find a way to solve things out.

And yet Cellbit didn’t let him go for a single second. He followed him no matter the instability, during those painful moments of consciousness, beyond the fake minutes of happiness and slipped past his traps just to go and pull him out of it. He shouted and hugged and taunted and broke and fought dirty and did what he could to bring him back.

And yet Bad still talked and answered him, even with how much he was hurting, even with the bombs and screams and the dismissing he came back over and over again with his chats and banters and discussions that so easily led Forever to the trap that would come to save his life.

Once again, there were tears in his eyes.

They were too his family. Forever was the one who put himself under Cucurucho’s radar by going apeshit and bombarding the entire island and they were the ones who saved him from that white fucking bear. From himself. From the Happy Pills.

He cried.

(What else could he do?)

Agony and hope danced in harmony in his chest, sucking all his other senses to nothing and filling his soul with every emotion under the sun at the same time. It was overwhelming but good to be free to feel so easily. It was horrible that he knew how it was like to miss this freedom so much. It was empty to feel this despair all over again. It was good, no, essential to know he was not alone.

Almost hopeful, even.

And yet their children were gone.

And yet everyone was kind of lost.

And yet they needed someone solid, a strong leader to step in.

Forever didn’t feel strong.

(What would he do?)

He wiped his tears. Sat on the bed. Got up. Put back the flag on his shoulder. Took a deep breath, listening to the very known voices coming out of the infirmary that made his entire face change to a (this time genuine) happy, tired and relieved kind of smile.

The president of Quesadilla Island woke up.

(And he didn’t have any idea of how much everyone had been waiting to show him how much they were happy about it.)

[~*~]

It all started in very tiny ways, as most things did, easy to miss if you didn’t know where to look.

The first time it happened Forever was at favela. He had just finished fixing the elevator from the Karaoke and was watching the sunset (Hi, Bobby) wash over the beach in a dance of colors at the top of the building, resting on the parapet. Pac was somewhere close, building more houses or getting in trouble with Fit, but, besides them, it was just him, his memories and Copacabana beach.

Forever laid his head in his arms, with a long sigh, closing his eyes and just letting the wind mess his hair and clear his thoughts, enjoying the brief moment of peace before he started thinking about more plans and projects to fill his day and mind with.

It was hard, though. When every block he put down or decoration he pulled up made the blonde turn around with a call in the tip of his tongue, words disappearing when he realized that there was no set of small footsteps following him and probably never would again because they were all gone and he was not and how could he ever even think about-

A shiver ran down his spine and made his thoughts come to a halt when he felt a light tickle in the back of his neck, making him have to move a hand out of his comfortable position to wipe the leaf or whatever out of his skin.

His fingers made contact with nothing. Uh. Must’ve flown away already.

He was tired. Maybe he should take the rest of the day to clean his base. There were still holes from the mine traps that someone has been spreading across the island lately. Another problem for him to resolve. Looked like those were never going to end.

The tickle came back, following him even when he flinched away, with a puffed snicker falling from his tongue. His hand shot to scare whatever insect it was from his neck again but the touch was as nimble as it was soft, lightly and skillfully dancing away from his hold before it could catch him.

“Que porra.” (“The fuck.”) He tried again and again, going so far as slapping his entire arm behind him, hitting nothing.

The sensation disappeared for a brief while before running all the way across his spine, making him almost jump in the air and finally give up his comfortable position to spin around. “Que que é isso, cara!” (“What is this, man!”)

“Pfff- hahaha!”

Forever turned just in the right moment to see his short friend, with sky blue eyes shining with a playful light, pulling a black, crooked and beautiful wing behind his back, his laugh ringing across the building.

“Philza! Really?”

“What? You wouldn’t have that problem if you wore a shirt, you know?” Forever’s shouted “WHAAAAT!” did nothing to alleviate his laughing fit, a snort not taking long to appear.

“You, you’re, you’re bullying me, man! I just came out of the hospital and you treat me like this. I can’t believe it!”

“You’re-”

“You come here, you hit me, you don’t let me rest after I get out of a coma… I am an injured, man, you know that, Philza? You’re bullying an injured man.”

“I literally,” his tune tried and failed to sound at least a tidbit serious before he descended in more laughter. “I literally didn’t even hit you!”

Forever continued as if he didn’t hear the protest of the other, turning around and gesticulating dramatically. “You’re a bully, Philza. You’re such a bully.”

“I am doing that to remind you to put on a shirt! You just came out of the hospital, you’re gonna catch a cold.”

“Nah, nah, nah, you’re mean. You’re just so mean to me. Like, I thought we were friends, you know? But I see the truth now.” He tsked. “That is just sad, Philza. That is really sad, man.”

“Oh my fucking god.” The punch he gave on Forever’s arms didn’t even hurt, only making the president snicker louder. “Shut the fuck up.”

Forever chuckled at how done the other sounded, watching him roll his eyes and shake his head with a big smile before taking (he wasn’t resting anymore so might as well just finish his work here) the chance and walking in between the tables and chairs until he got behind the balcony. In no time he began filling the storage with drinks and food. The high, upbeat joy of banting with his friend slowly calming down.

“Actually, I am going to put back my old black suit soon. I am just taking a break from wearing suits so much, you know?”

He didn’t have to explain what the break was really for and how his old presential clothes didn’t have anything to do with it, Philza understood.

“Take that time off, Forever, you deserve it.” His tune was soft.

Forever smiled, wishing he could show Phil how wrong he was. A“break” definitely wasn’t on the list of things that Forever deserved at all. That anarchist was way too kind.

“Thank you very much, my friend.” He closed the cabinet door, turning around (and away), facing the entire restaurant.

Each chair, each color and decor had been carefully picked by small , gentle claws. The building had been chosen by hand and even the balcony was built lower than normal, made so that a small child could go behind it and pretend to be a barman, sing with the melodies and enjoy the view with their family and friends.

Signs were still spreaded there, on the restaurant, the rooms, the favela, the N.I.N.H.O, the Spawn, their home and island… None of it had been built to be just for the adults and it all brought a longing pang in his chest.

Saudade.

They’re gone. They’re gone and he was here laughing and resting and doing nothing to rescue them and how could he be so usele-

Another soft sweep of feathers right under his chin made him flinch away with a surprised, bitten giggle, successfully making his line of thoughts disintegrate for a second time. A half smile painted his face.

“Stop with that, man! It tickles.”

Philza tilted his head slightly to the side, eyes sharp in concentration, as if just realizing something. But at the sound of Forever’s voice he blinked and let his expression become a tad more relaxed, with worried tunes.

“You just seemed to be thinking a whole lot back there. What is in your mind?”

“Nothing really important. It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I’ve got some bad news for you then, mate. Because it will matter to me. You can tell me anything, Forever.”

And for a moment the other considered not doing that. Teleporting away or brushing his worries with another topic or a joke. But that was Philza.

Philza, one of the most protective parents who still trusted him with Tallulah when he was away. Philza, who didn’t care about the elections but voted for him anyway. Philza, who trusted him with such a conviction and an unyielding loyalty that Forever had no idea of what he could ever have done to deserve it.

(“You saved my children.” Philza would say if he could listen to him. “You went beyond and further to save everyone’s kids for free over and over so no parent would ever carry the grief of losing them again. You did it for Richarlyson, for Tallulah, for Bobby, for Pomme, for you, for us, for free. I’m not forgetting that easily and I’m not letting you forget too.”)

And that was enough.

He stared at the beach again, the words coming easier when he was not looking at the other.

“Talullah was the one who decorated the restaurant. We were having a Karaoke Night and when we got up here she had already put all those nice trees and pretty flowers…It looks really nice.”

Philza sighed, looking ten thousands of years older.

“Yeah, she has an amazing taste.” Then he walked and stayed right in front of Forever’s view, staring right at his eyes, serious. “We’re going to find them, ok? Richas, Talullah, Chayanne, Ramon… Every single one, we’re going to get them back. So don’t let yourself give up and stay focused.”

The president, his friend, nodded.

“We will get them back.” Forever agreed. “No matter what it costs.”

[~*~]

But Philza was a discreet fella, so things continued to be shown in tiny ways for a while. A poke when he got too distracted and his thoughts too dark, a scribble to get his attention, a sweep of feathers when he refused to stop working so much and listen to the reason. Forever pretended to be annoyed, but the fact that the other cared so much and in such a playful way kept fishing fond smiles and amused chuckles out of him and that he couldn’t ignore.

His cute secret was secure with him, and so things took a while before it began escalating, all because of a different afternoon…

It started with a jumpscare.

“FOREVER!”

“PUTA MERDA!” (“HOLY SHIT!”) The loud shout quickly descended in a series of nervous giggles. The blond holding his chest and resting in a wall to not fall, muscles trembling with the sudden shot of adrenaline.

It took a couple of minutes for him to get back his composure and glare at the demon that was still snickering gleefully at him, tail swooping around in delight as he jumped around.

It took exactly one second.

In a blink Forever was getting his soul back to his body and then in the other he was throwing himself at him and both were rolling on the floor in a mess of pushes and kicks. “Tu se acha engraçadão, hein? Tu se acha muito engraçadão. Palhaço! Tá palhaço demais, hein, Badboyhalo.” (“You think you’re so funny, yeah? You think you’re so funny. You clown! You’re being such a clown, huh, Badboyhalo.”)

Forever didn’t care that his wrestling was uncoordinated enough so most hits didn’t even land on his friend, different from Bad that actually got more than one or two kicks right before letting himself be lost in a mix of too joyfully complains of “unfair attack” and “dictator” to have any true heat in them.

Their playful fight was kept for a few pieces of a while before they were too distracted by their own amusement to not let the other go and try to recompose themselves.

“Where! is! it!”

“What?” Forever asked, staring with confused eyes at the black demon who crossed his arms and squinted at him in what Forever could swear was an annoyed composure if it wasn’t the way his tail swayed around and his eyes glinted in glee. Whether it was for being so unclear and successfully confusing the blond or for the original reason he appeared there in the first place it wasn’t clear.

For a moment his eyes unfocused from the form of the other and watched the wall full of kind, heartwarming messages that he asked for everyone still awake at that night to write so he could make BadboyHalo a surprise. Suddenly all the pieces came together in his mind and formed such a cute picture that Forever couldn’t help but let out a delighted chuckle, lips curling in an amused, teasing smirk. “Ooooh, I see what you’re talking about now, Badboy.”

That chuckles almost became a crackle when the only response he received was a petulant huff and a hand extended in his direction, fingers twitching impatiently. Forever took out his backpack, rummaging through it until he found the compartment where he kept all his flowers, carefully pushing Richa’s favorite one aside so he could pull another one. His fingers clasped around a stem and soon a light purple grazed his sight. “Here. Your daily flower. It’s for until you get better, right?”

“Oh, nice, thank you.” Bad’s voice tinted with a softer tune, carefully gathering the gift and putting it on his own backpack, in a special place, together with the others, before his tune became agitated again, feet tapping on the floor with energy. “But that is NOT what I am talking about.” He got closer and repeatedly began slapping his arm, following the president when he shouted and started running around the enclosed space, jumping in attempts to escape from the sudden attack. “WHERE IS IT! GIVE ME, IT’S MINE!”

“What! What more do you want from me!” When no answer was given besides more chasing and (friendly) hitting, the blonde got the warpstone with an exaggerated sigh.

“You know, Badboyhalo,” when Forever said his entire name, it wasn’t exactly sing-songing, but it had a little beat painted with amusement and tease, when the demons haven’t been able to successfully annoy him out of his mind, of course. “I really need to go, man, and since you don’t have anything to say to me… tsk, that is so sad, man, I was really feeling quite… generous today”

“No!” The demon tried to grab his shoulder, but the blonde dodged swiftly, still pretending to be looking busy and thinking hard about his next location. “Forever. Do not. You’re not running away. I know what you’re doing!” Forever smiled.

Being friends with Cellbit, you learned a thing or two. Like how to disappear in the middle of a conversation, but, especially, how to do that in the most annoying way possible. “No, no, no, I’m not running away at all, Bad, I am actually…”

However, that was the thing: Bad was also Cellbit’s friend, and so realized the exact moment that glint filled the president’s brown eyes what was about to happen. His hand flew in another attempt of a grab, missing once again his shoulder when the other, a bit later than last time, dodged, which allowed his reflex to kick in and his hand changed the trajectory and lay on the brazilian’s side, squeezing.

None of them was prepared for the squeal that this action fished.

For a second, a blissful second, everything froze and both stared at each other.

That is how Forever saw the exact second the demon’s eyes squinted and a playful flame alighted in them.

In a blink his other hand also flew to his waist and began attacking both sides with no mercy. Forever had no chance to even try to stop the barking loud laughter that exploded from him, immediately letting go of the warpstone to clue on Bad’s wrists, trying to push them away by sheer reflex even before his brain could process what was happening.

“Nonono, stop that! BA-ad!”

Bad couldn’t help but giggle, half adoring and half malefically, at the way the laughter made most of his words get almost intelligible. Besides, Bad thinks he could grow accustomed to having his name being snickered in such an adoring - together with that cute smile and shiny eyes - way more often, really.

His fingers poked and prodded with skill and curiosity, looking for any sensitive spot that could create a new fun sound and concentrating there for a few maddening seconds and plenty of digging before looking for the next one. There was a very nice one juuust above his lowest rib that made the barking laughter become a string of snickers that seemed to grow higher and faster by the seconds. It almost made Bad forget his main job now as his friend and rival the second (actually, even before that, if he was being honest, but honesty was overrated) he discovered that little fun secret about their dear tyrant:

Tease him out of his mind.

“Huh? Stop what, Foreverrr?” “That! You’re ti-” Bad closed his hands in fists and pressed his knuckles on his ribs and rubbed as if his life depended on it, cutting the rest of the sentence with success and filling the room with much more shrieks than before. “What was that?”

Forever couldn’t answer, his legs were failing and it made him get close to a fall if it wasn’t for the demon adjusting his hold on him and slowly lowering him to the ground, fingers still dancing in each and every rib, scratching and scribbling happily.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you’re saying, some muffinhead is laughing their heart out near here. Perhaps they heard a very good joke. Hmmm, what do you think Forever?”

Forever snorted, eyes almost closed with how much he was laughing, tears beginning to collect in the corner of his eyes. A few portuguese words got tangled with his crackling. Bad nodded seriously and slowed his tickle attack, not wanting to go too far.

“Uh hm, no, I get what you’re putting down here. We just need to ignore the laughter and keep up our nice conversation. I think that is a great idea!” He snuggled his hands cozily under Forever’s armpits, lightly wiggling and poking, which resulted in the laughter becoming a new dance of a calmer, but still high with adrenaline and mirth, string of snickers that made the blonde’s shoulders bounce in joy. “What were you saying before?”

“Stop tickling me!” “What!” Bad gasped in offense. “How can you even accuse me like that! What the fudge, I thought we were friends. But, no, I see. I came aaaaall the way over here, did nothing wrong and you just treat me like that.” He gave a fake sniff. “You’re hurting my feelings, Forever.” “Mentiroso!” (Liar!) It was quite difficult to see with tears and squinted eyes, especially when Bad’s hoodie always kept his expressions hidden, however, it was even harder to miss how those shiny eyes glinted with mischief and fondness and his smirk went from one ear to another.

It was quite the sweet sight. Forever had to push his face away before it made him blush vomit.

(For a second, he could almost swear that the blue that covered the other’s figure dimmed a little for a piece of time.)

“You’re such a liar.”

“Oh why, thank you.”

Bad freed his hands and softly attacked the back of the elf’s ears, still too lost in the lovely sound of his delightful giggles, crackles and snickers to actually let him go. That was the true sound of Forever’s happiness, not that forced, explosive laughter created by those pills.

Besides, Forever also wasn’t pushing him away.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one missing that freeing sound. Maybe Forever also longed for those moments of playful fights between them, of pushing the buttons and teasing and caring and always, always being there, for the better or the worse.

Eventually, the president held his hands and stopped the attack, left over giggles still pouring from his lips like a waterfall.

Their eyes met.

Forever’s smile got relaxed and small before growing bigger.

Bad just hummed, tail starting to sway fastly from side to side.

“So, Badboyhalo…”

“Yes?”

Forever’s grip got more firm.

Bad’s pull got equally stronger.

They kept smiling.

“Are you… uh.” His voice lost the undertone of playfulness, brown eyes focusing with true curiosity for a moment. “Coceguento? How is it in english? Tickly?”

“Oh, it’s ticklish. For example, you are very ticklish, Forever.”

“Hehehe,” he snorted, and his curiosity was satisfied. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. But what about you, Badboyhalo? Are you… ticklish?” The word came slowly and playfully, tinted with a nice accent.

Bad’s tail opened his backpack, rummaging in search for a very specific item.

“Hmmm… no, actually. I’m not.”

The blonde’s smile got more dangerous. “I don’t know… I don’t believe in you, man.” He found it.

Bingo.

“Then why don’t you try to find out?”

Forever pulled him closer and with a swift move the enderpearl that had been in his bag was thrown to the other side of the room, successfully freeing the demon from his hold. Not a second later, though, Forever was jumping on his feet, ready for another chase.

Lots of laughter filled the afternoon, that day.

[~*~]

After that, the avian wasn’t the only one who now randomly poked, prodded and attacked the outgoing brazilian when he wasn’t expecting, anymore. Even though Badboyhalo’s attacks were much more out of the blue, following him in those lonely afternoons when he was distracted in his adventures or too lost in a project to realize the other invaded his base in the middle of a sleepless night.

But, you see, the difference between Philza and Bad and knowing that Forever is actually pretty ticklish is a very single detail: Bad is a fucking gossiper who loved to set chaos just to see where it would go.

And, therefore, the main reason why Forever was so screwed right now.

“NÃO! SAI, SAI, SAI. LARGA DE MIM!” (NO! GET AWAY, GET AWAY, GET AWAY. LET ME GO!)

“Que isso, moço, tá fugindo da gente por que?” (What is this, bro? Why are you running away from us?)

Forever didn’t even have to turn around to see Mike’s giant smug grin. It was almost palpable in his tune. But if anyone could have any doubt about its existence, they just needed to listen to his crackles as both him and Pac chased their friend through the Spawn, leaving a very amused Bad and Bagi, who shouted a “Boa sorte aí, Forevinho!” (Good luck, Forevinho!) in the wind behind.

“Pois é, a gente só quer um abraço apertado do nosso presida da galera! Cadê o espírito da Favela Six?” (That’s right. We just want a tight hug from our favorite president! Where’s the Favela’s six spirit?) Pac, however, questioned with a genuine tune, almost naive like as he followed the other closely, getting closer and closer by the seconds. For a moment he almost tricked the president into thinking that he was the merciful one, then he remembered about that one tickle fight he, Mike and Tubbo had in the Favela.

Let’s just say it was just a very quick thought, really.

“Favela six é o caralho, ceis querem é me roubar. Eu já disse que não vai ter Armazém da Galera nenhum! Isso é ataque à autoridade, hein!” (Favela Six my ass, you just want to rob me. I already said that there won’t be any Free Storage! This is an attack on authority!)

“A gente só quer o que é nosso por direito, Forevin.” (We just want what is faithfully ours, Forevin.)

The blonde didn’t even have a chance to answer before an arm grabbed his shoulder and pushed, disbalancing him enough so Pac was able to sneak behind him and lock him in a hug, snickering gleefully in his ear.

“Que isso, cara, achava que tu era compromissado! Vou falar pro Fit, hein!” (The hell, man! I thought you were compromised! I’m going to tell Fit!) Forever’s struggles only grew stronger when he saw Mike getting closer, wiggling his hands in the form of claws as he stopped running and instead began to approach slowly, chuckles falling freely from his lips and making shivers run across his spine and giggles to pile in his chest.

He tried again to free himself from the hug, showing no success. Pac’s hold was firm as a mountain.

“E desde quando que tu tá malhando? Tá todo mamadíssimo aí, né, eu tô sabendo.” (And since when you’re ripped? You’re all ‘mamadíssimo’ now. I see what’s going on.)

Pac let out an amused, with drops of shyness, snort. “Pois é, né, moço. Sabe como é né… Tô indo na academia do Fit bastante esses tempos e tudo mais, aí dá nisso.” (That is right, bro. You know how it is… I’m visiting Fit's Gym a lot these last days and that is what happens.) His tune lost a bit of the light and became more serious, cracked in the corners. “Também, né, a gente nunca sabe quando vai precisar. Eu não quero que quando chegue a hora…” (Also, we don’t know when we’re gonna need it. I don’t want that, when the time comes…)

Forever knew exactly what he was talking about, the same cloudy thoughts that filled everyone’s mind in the island the second he warned that the kids had ran away because a danger greater than everything they’ve seen before was coming, the Federation choosing to announce the train station’s opening in just a few days also did not help their nerves.

He looked at Pac’s shadows under his eyes, suddenly remembering that his friend also went under the Happy Pills Treatment, the horrible withdrawal, the exhaustion of recovery, all to save him.

His struggles became just a little, a little less strong, heart melting and hurting like it did for every single member of their dysfunctional family since they arrived in that boat.

The scientists deserved to have their own silly fun, even if the fun was destroying their friend and president in a mess full of giggling pieces.

And so Forever let out a loud laughter, wiggling his eyebrows and giving him a knowing smirk. “Tu tá praticando bastante exercício com o Fit é? Aham, hehehe, tô sabendo.” (Doing a lot of exercise with Fit, yeah? Uh hm. Hehehe, I see.)

“FOREVER!” This time the snort that came out from Forever’s mouth was more of a result of Pac's unfairly squeezing his belly non stop instead of a reaction to the affronted shout, the one with blue hoodie not throwing any other remark or getting lost in any dark thought. The blonde counted that as a win for him.

“Tá bem engraçadinho, mas você não vai conseguir me distrair. Sabe, o Badboy me falou algo muito interessante sobre você que ele descobriu mês passado…” (You think you’re being funny, huh. But you’re not going to distract me. You know, Badboy told me something very interesting about you that he discovered last month…)

Mike finally got right in front of him and Forever immediately started kicking in his direction to keep those offending fingers away from his torso at the same time that he continued to attempt to pry Pac’s hands - that somehow seemed to sense the exact spots he was the most sensitive and concentrate all their pinches, scribbles and tickly efforts on them over and over again - until the attack forced Forever to press his lips on his shoulder to contain the blossoming laughter and embarrassing squeals that tried to escape from his mouth.

His efforts to not let any sound out, however, were demolished when, in his distraction, Mike grabbed his ankle and grinned like a shark that finally got his prey.

“Eu preferia uma mãozinha, mas já que é isso que você tá oferecendo…” (I’d rather you gave me a hand, but since you’re offering…) And, locking the leg in a headlock, his fingers began dancing across his sole, walking around his arch and giving some special attention to the extremely ticklish space right under his toes, skillfully dodging any kicks that this move resulted in and breaking Forever’s barriers instantly.

Forever’s booming laughter filled the air in a free dance of joy, mirth and a warmth that filled his heart when he remembered just how long had it been since all of them could just get together and goof around a bit, no kidnappings or imminent dangers in their minds for a blissful pieces of time.

[~*~]

“Soooo, guys, I think I’m heading out, now.” Forever kept jumping on the trampoline, restless energy running on his veins after talking to Phil about his journey in the Nether. The virus hadn’t spread a lot those last days, but the conversation was hard, not only because of how, primarily, exhausting it was to go through all of it, but because for some reason something in him made he almost feel compelled to shut his mouth and not say a single word about the infection to anyone else.

They played and gave each other a few remarks and pokes of fun when Philza asked for Forever to take off his shirt in the bunker, careful touches analyzing the skin around the ébano substance glued on his back and in the nape of his head. Even so, it made the blonde want to hide away the result of his journey. Forever never have been ashamed of his body. He used to walk around shirtless, on the good old, first days on the island, afterall. But if he was being honest... he was afraid about that infection, and Philza didn’t seem very relieved about it either.

It was a literal mark about how he had failed in absolutely every single sense and chance he had out there. In finding any clue, in getting their kids back, in saving Walter Bob or even himself. In the end, he was not able to do any of this.

That is the President of Quesadilla Island, everyone.

(“We’re going to talk with Cucurucho and demand answers about what the fuck is this.”

Forever gave a humorless chuckle, happy that the children were outside playing so they weren’t here to witness how defeated he sounded for a second before adjusting himself to a playful grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, Philza, he is very good at this. Giving us answers, right?”

“We have to try. If someone knows about this it is the Federation.” Philza brushed the other’s sarcastic ‘há!’ easily and moved until he was right in front of the brazilian, capturing his eyes in a firm stare. “And if they don’t have anything, we’re going to find our own answers.”

Forever nodded, not really believing.

“You worry too much, my friend.”

“Exactly. I already told you but I will repeat it until it gets through your thick skull: I always will worry and I’m not leaving you side, mate.”

For a moment words escaped from his tongue, a mix of feelings of ‘safe’, ‘happy’ and ‘embarrassment’ filled his chest before he got a hold of his senses.

“Alright, alright, alright.”

This time, when he smiled there was a light back into his brown, tired eyes.

“You know, Philza, you really need to get over me, man. The line continues, I’m already moving forward and you still try to romance me, it’s- what is the word? Oh, embarrassing, hehehe”

The avian took advantage of his position to hit the other upside his head, a surprise snort being fished from his lips.

“Oho, shut the fuck up. You’re the one who is still on this!”)

And yeah, maybe he was just making a strategic retreat after showing vulnerability, but who could blame him, really? No one, that’s who. He would be out before they did try.

“Come on, Richas, vamo de Megabase.” (Let’s go to Megabase) He called, getting out of the trampoline when the boy kept painting and paid him no mind. Tallulah, however, stopped writing on a book to go to him, Chayanne turned to look from his place next to the grill nearby, already testing a new recipe.

The girl placed a sign and stared at him with attentive eyes, lips firmly pressed in a shadow of disappointment. ‘You already going?’

(God. He really missed the sound of little steps and signs being placed. They missed it all so much.)

Forever internally winced. He really didn’t spend a lot of time with Chay and Talullah since they’re back, letting them enjoy more time with Phil and just making quick check ins once in a while. He also took the last days to spend as much time as he could with Richas, afterall.

“Yeah... sorry, Talullah, but me and Richas still have to finish our project, right Richas?”

Still no answer from the younger one, too concentrated in every stroke to pay the conversation any mind.

Forever chuckled, sensing a chance for some mischief. Cleaning his throat, he lifted his voice from the usual soft tune he always used with Tallulah to a more taunting tune, making it louder so Richas could listen perfectly well.

“Ohhh, but maybe you can go and help me to make it, right, Talullah? You’re such a nice, helpful egg who listens to your parents when they call you, just like Chayanne. Richarlyson could take some examples from his older siblings more, tsk.” The president had to hold the snickers when he saw the red cow head stop and slowly, threateningly slowly, turn around to face him, Richas letting go of the brush to squint their eyes at him. Talullah and Chayanne rolled their eyes, amused, already used to the playful banters between father and son. “But ahh, he just never listens. Oooh, I have an idea! While Tallulah helps me with the decoration, Chayanne, you can go too and make your delicious barbecue there to keep us- AH!”

The surprised shout was a direct result for when the younger launched himself at his father in protest and began roughhousing immediately, both descending in growls and portuguese for a few couple of minutes before Forever laid a satisfied Richas on the floor, who immediately placed a sign.

‘Pai, stop. I’m making Pepito’s birthday present, let me finish it >:0 we can go Mebase later :D’

“Ok, ok, I get it, I get it. You like Pepito more than your own father. Yeah, yeah, no Richas, no, I get it.” He began fake sniffing and making crying noises, leading to a Richas kicking his leg in a clear message of ‘stop the dramatics’ before going back to the canvas. “Ok, ok, warn me when you finish your drawing then, we can stay a little more.”

The three kids danced in excitement.

(...)

He is not sure how exactly he had ended up in this position.

Talullah and Chayanne were secure and cozy his arms, half because of a poke of fun at Philza that started with a joke ten minutes ago and they just kept it running and half as a parting hug that was stiffly (but still very carefully) answered by Chayanne and warmly by Tallulah. Forever enthusiastically squeezed and hugged them even tighter. A bit jealous of how Philza could shield them both with his wings during their own hugs and how he could only wish that his arms would be strong enough to defend them when the time comes.

“OK, now it’s for real. Richas, let’s go!”

But, when Richarlyson appeared in front of him, paints and canva already put inside his backpack, his smile had a different tint in it and, between his curls, Forever could recognize the flame that always appeared when that kid’s inner demon - not his terrifying artistic alter ego, though, the general demon that lives inside every rascal kid - woke in search of chaos.

He immediately became wary.

‘Chay, Talluh, can I tell you a secret about Pai Forever? 0-0’

Both siblings immediately nodded.

“Ohh, gossip. I like, I like.” Philza snorted at the affronted look in Forever’s face.

“Vai contar nada, vai contar nada, seu muleque atentado! Nem sei o que tu vai falar, mas não vai falar não. Que que é isso, Richarlyson, tá se virando contra o seu próprio pai?” (You’re telling nothing, you’re telling nothing, you absolute brat. I don’t even know what you’re about to say but you’re telling nothing. What is it, Richarlyson, are you turning against your own dad?)

During the entire scold Richas kept jumping around in circles with the utmost, simple delight, wiggling his body and tail in sync in front of Forever, as if daring him to let go of the other two eggs to go and actually catch him, like a cat looking deep into your eyes before throwing the cup right off your table.

He put a sign on the ground.

‘Pai Forever is absurdly, awfully, very, very, ticklish. And it’s so funny because he always agrees to give us anything when we tickle attack him at home.'

“WHAAAAAT! RICHARLYSON, TU VAI FICAR DE CASTIGO, SEU OVO SAFADO. VAI PASSAR O RESTO DA VIDA NAQUELE CASTELO ASSOMBRADO LÁ DO TEU PAI CELLBIT. VOU CHAMAR O ELMARIANA PRA PUXAR TEU PÉ DE NOITE” (RICHARLYSON, YOU’RE GOING TO GET GROUNDED, YOU RASCAL. YOU’RE GOING TO SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE IN YOUR DAD CELLBIT’S HAUNTED CASTLE. I’M GOING TO CALL ELMARIANA TO PULL YOUR FEET IN THE NIGHT.)

His kid, his beautiful, beautiful baby boy that he would explode the entire island for and go through the literal hell all over again if it meant that he would be finally safe, only looked at him in a confused expression - as if the lil shit just couldn’t tell why his dear pai was running away from him as he tried to get closer - and began following his steps as Forever tried to put distance between them, holding Chayanne and Talullah the farthest away from his torso that he could while the two squirmed trying to escape and attack.

In the end his back ended up hitting the tree and, without being able to get his items to flee, he had nowhere to go.

“Wait, wait, wait, don-” A chortle escaped the very exact moment Richas began drilling on his sides, making Forever want to bounce up and down with the sudden tickly energy that shot through his entire body, leaving his mouth with a big, dazzling smile and his arms to fall in an attempt to protect himself from the tickling, which inevitably brought the other children close and sealed his fate.

Tallulah was bold, briefly looking at his face for any sign of discomfort before carefully shoving her claws under his armpit, scratching the ticklish skin with ease, but for the loud shriek that this resulted one could think that she just unlocked a full, unmerciful on a tickle attack.

Chayanne took a bit longer, giving his surroundings and sky a wary look, as if a monster would appear the very second he lowered his guard, only to end up finding his father’s gaze, who was watching at them with a soft expression and nodding encouragingly. The little (way to young) warrior relaxed and also took the job of scribbling, encircling and digging (just the tiniest bit, he had to be mindful about his claws after all) the other armpit, fish just more squeals and plenty of gleeful laughter with that.

Forever felt like he was about to jump out of his skin, his body going crazy at the ‘it tickles, it tickles so so much!’ feeling while his brain was still caught in the need to not move around too much to not hurt any kid with his squirms. All of which ended up with the blonde doing a weird little dance around the spot that brought plenty of giggles and amused snickers from the young ones.

Now, the similarity between Philza and Bad is that, while he wasn’t exactly the one who created it, Philza was more than inclined and wouldn’t necessarily refuse to add to a chaotic situation it if the chance came, if he felt like it.

That is why he stepped close, winking at them. “I think it’s better if you just agree to their terms, Forever.”

“I-I” the adult tried to bite back another giggling fit, but their tickles were so goddamn light and maddening- “I don’t even snk know what thehey want!”

“Just agree to give them anything then.”

Forever shook his head. He knew his son enough to understand how much of a pain in the ass that decision could become.

“Needing more convincing? Well, kids, you saw it.”

“Filho da puta-” (Son of a bitch-), and Forever threw his head backwards in more laughter, more squeaks, more half squirms.

Now, Philza may not know Portuguese. However, six months sharing an island with 7 brazilians and plenty of reasons to swear taught him well what some words meant. He snorted, half amused and half affronted.

“Do NOT swear in front of the children.” Then, a wicked grin was formed in his expression.“You know what? I think the eggs need a little help.”

Forever’s eyes got wide when he saw the avian stepping close, cracking his fingers, making an electric shiver run across his spine and spread through his nerves, making his fingertips tingle with adrenaline and anticipation.

His legs tensed in preparation for the chase, unfortunately, his son knew him too well.

In a blink Richarlyson threw himself on his legs and hugged them, successfully stopping him from even trying to escape. And those extra pieces of time were all that Philza needed. As fast as he was to defend and attack, he positioned himself right in front of the president, firmly pressing his shoulder to the tree and not really, truly, preventing him from escaping, but successfully securing him in place, in the same time.

“Ok, kids, what I know for a fact is that his neck is a very bad spot…” He demonstrated it by lightly tracing and wiggling his nails on said place, all of the dragon hybrids watching attentively as the action made Forever lose himself in a sea of snickers and yelps, a stronger reaction only coming out when two more tiny hands got mixed in the fun when Chayanne and Talullah tried mirroring their dad.

“But a spot that could make him cave…” Philza hummed before turning to the young one with a red mushroom cow head. “What do you think, Richarlyson? His hips or the back of his ribs?”

Richas looked at his dad.

At how dark have been the circles under his eyes since he came back, at how he kept chatting with the islanders but never truly talking to them, how he always kept running off to another project or meeting, always saying that Richas was his son and his best friend and the only one he could trust when they got caught up in the middle of the night building and decorating his base.

He saw how, until now, he hadn’t run away. Through the teases, the attacks and tickles, he stayed.

And so, he smirked.

Placed a sign.

‘Both?’

“Geez, I’m never getting into a tickle fight with you, mate.” Even so, the avian reflected his smirk right back at him and both turned to look at Chayanne and Talullah, who nodded in understanding and placed their claws on the back of his ribs.

“Nononono! Wait!” Philza placed his free hand on his hips, thumb pressing the spot right above the bone, the palm resting on the back of his spine. Forever’s speech became more high pitched and much faster, with nervous, delirious chuckles already spilling and spinning in the air. “None of you said what you wanted from me! That is not justo, uh, just, huh, fair! Calma aí, come on, wait, wait, wait!”

They did not, in fact, wait.

For a second, once again, everything else in the world disappeared. There were no code monsters, no Federation, no Purgatory or anything else but the warm, electric feeling of fingers and claws prodding, pinching and scratching that took over his entire senses, making his laughter ring free in a song composed of yelps, shrieks, squeals and snickers that filled the air. There was nothing else but the fun, the joy and the warmth of a careful touch and silly taunting smiles that his heart melt with care over and over again.

In the end, after more laughter, plenty of teasing and lots of snorts, they finally agreed to ask him to visit them again after a couple of days for a nice picnic. A request which, in between leftover chuckles, plenty complains and a few gleeful tears, Forever agreed, a plan of vengeance already forming in his brain.

#Ler!Philza #Ler!Tallulah #Ler!Bad #Ler!Richarlyson #qsmp tickling #Ler!Chayanne #Ticklish!Forever #Ler!Pac #Ler!Mike #I loved the idea of Philza using his feathers for evil tickly purposes ok like PLEASE it has so much potential!!!#Also I didn't add a tickle scenario with Cellbit and Forever and yeah I am sad too but I couldn't imagine it so :(#Very sad face the divorced keep losing :(#cheer up tickles #I don't think Tallulah and Chayanne were too true to their character here but I tried. I only started watching Phil's pov recently :")#Phil and Forever at every second around each other: he is so not over me like god that is so embarrasing how much he still wants me geez #Bad and Forever actively annoying each other gives me so much happiness like <3 <3 <3 yeah yeah get insufferable plssss #Look I am all but a simply person who LOVES hurt/comfort and an entire arc that showed us one of my faves characters going thro hell and-#-being SAVED by his friends and family who literally refused to let him lost himself no matter how much he was forced to push them away?#HECK YEAH #Look look I still lay awake in my bed thinking about Phil saying 'Forever. I know you would've never agreed to that if it wasn't for a-#-good reason' and Forever laughing and saying 'That is the funny part Philza. I never agreed to anything!!'#And he saying that he promised to Chay that he would protect Tallulah no matter what and then he starts laughing 'Isn't that funny Phil?'#AUGH #And don't even get me STARTED about his and Cellbit's screaming match in the end OWWW HOW CAN THEY BE SO GOOD AT RP FUCK MEEEE #Also yeah I am actively ignoring what is happening in canon rn while still adding the virus to my fic like we give them the ol razzle dazzl #qsmp tickles #Kanene's fanfic #Kanene's fic

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queen-of-hawkins-why-ler · 20 days

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The way the entire “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before” “you know, like the word?” Milkvan scene from s3 was just Mike trying to have a “crazy together” moment of natural chemistry and connection with El and being unable to do so. Literally Mike taking all of these positive aspects of his loving relationship with Will and trying to force them with a girl and it Not. Working.

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sunsetsandsunshine · 3 months

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Knock knock~ Hey I saw how you wanted some tickle requests for rise, how bout something like lee!Mikey and ler!Donnie. Maybe Mikey Is being Mikey and Donnie wrecks him with tickles?

~ 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚟𝚜. 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎’𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 ~

💜🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @rice-cake-teen10 💜🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝙹𝚂𝙷𝙳𝚈𝚆𝙹𝚂𝙷 𝙷𝙸 𝙼𝙾𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙴 🫶🏾💖💕✨!!! 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 (𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍) 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 🫠💔. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 💞˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟷𝟷𝟷

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 (𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢’𝚜) 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝟸𝟺/𝟽! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!! 𝙾𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚢𝚑𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚙𝚑𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠—)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz @savemeafruitjuice @saturnzskyzz

@my-l0v3r-v3rse @titters-and-tingles @cedarrthefluffylee

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚑 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 🫠👍🏾

𝚃𝚆: 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐— 𝚢𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚕𝚕𝚕 🤩🫶🏾

*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙿 𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙿!!! 𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈 𝚈’𝙰𝙻𝙻!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Donnnnniieeeee!” Mikey whined loudly, bursting into his older brother’s room completelyunannounced, basically breaking off the hinges of the door just to get inside.

The scientist in question fought back the irritated groan that was bubbling in his throat as his brother walked in, continuing to type on his computer as the box turtle inched closer and closer towards him. “Michaeeeelllll.” Donnie replied without looking up from his device, his monotone voice not quitematching the same enthusiasm as his sibling’s when the youngest called his name— but close!

To an extent, anyway.

“What is it that you require, Michael?” The purple loving turtle asked, “I’m quite busy right now.”

The youngest turtle bit back a groan, crossing his arms and raising one of his eye ridges disapprovingly, “Busy doing what? All I see is you typing on your computer like you work a nine to five.”

“Dealing with you is like working a nine to five.”The taller turtle retorted, “But anyways, while you’re here, I would very much appreciate it if you looked over my coding for one of my inventions.” The elder went into a file and as a result, a handful of numbers and signs showed up on the screen.

The box turtle squinted his eyes as if he was nearsighted; looking closer at the codings to try and decipher what the actual hell his brother was expecting him to look for.

“Yes, yes. I know.” The scientist huffed, “It’s very traumatizing to look at. Trust me…I would know, I made the darn thing.”

“It looks like your face. That’s traumatizing enough.” The youngest grinned smugly.

“…I don’t even know why I try…” The second oldest grumbled, “Okay, now off with thee. I have work to do.” Donatello said as he lightly pushed the youngest away from him so he could leave him to his work. But Mikey stood his ground firmly, going up to his older brother and sitting on his lap, making sure that he slouched just the right amount so that Donnie couldn’t see the device screen.

The elder sighed at the behavior, trying his best to get his younger brother off of him but every time he at least attempted to, the youngest would just put more of his body weight onto him. “Audible groan…gehet off of meehee!” Donnie whined in defeat as Mikey grinned triumphantly.

“Nah. Your pretty comfy. It’s like sitting on a sofa.”

“You’re built like a sofa, you goon! Now get off of me!” Donatello huffed, pushing on his little brother’s shell in one last attempt to get this orange life draining leech away from his precious body.

“Ihi aham giving you fihive seconds to gehet off.”

“Ohor whahat? Yohou gonna shohow meehee more coding?”

Donnie raised an amused brow, resting his hands at the youngest’s sides but not quite moving his fingers yet. The art loving teen squeaked in surprise at the new sensation at his sides, immediately hugging his middles protectively, “D-Dohohon’t!”

“One…two…”

Donnie held Mikey’s sides with his hands.

“Three…four…”

He rolled his eyes fondly, pinching the younger’s sides softly as he started to tickle him.

“Five.”

The orange banded teen giggled immediately, squirming in his older brother’s lap ever so slightly, “Stahap ihit!” He squeaked, holding onto his brother’s wrists as the softshell couldn’t help but lightly chuckle at the gesture.

“Do you reallllly want me to stop or are you just saying that?” The elder smirked, “You could’ve gotten out of my lap but you chose not to.”

The artist loving teen blushed slightly at the question, “Dohonnie weehee ahahare nahat doing thihis right nohow!”

“I’m just asking you a simple question, little brother. I don’t understand the difficulty with you failing to answer it…” The purple banded teen hummed as he dug his hands into the other’s underarms, “Yes or no?”

The art loving turtle screamed, kicking his legs in the air and shaking his head back and forth. “YeHES! Freeheeaking *squeak* stahaHAP!”

“Oh, so yes? So you do want me to continue tickling you?” Donatello grinned at his choice of wordplay. The youngest’s laughter raised an octave as he squirmed and tried to slip away from his brother’s tickly grasp and fingers.

The taller turtle quickly typed in his wristwatch, his spider arms coming out of his battle-shell and holding the other’s wrists, pulling his arms away so he couldn’t hug his middles nor squirm away.

Mikey gulped comically, squirming in his brother’s lap still. “N-NAHA— *squeak* noho! JuhUST NOHOHOH!”

“Ohhhhh. I understand now. So you don’t want me to stop tickling you?”

“STAHAP TWIHISTING MYHY WOHORDS!”

“I’m not!” The young genius grinned, “I’m just asking you to clarify!”

The smaller turtle squealed loudly, attempting to pull his wrists free from the spider arms but all his attempts ending in vain as his older brother just continued to tickle him.

“So just clarifying…you want me to continue tickling you?”

“DEEHEEHEE!!!”

“What~? I’m just asking if you want me to tickle you. That you perhaps came in here with the intention of getting tickled by yours truly—“

“STAH— *squeal* *squeak* STAHAP STAHAP STAHAP!!!”

Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother’s frantic giggles, stopping his tickling attack but wiggling his fingers directly above the other turtle’s ribs, causing the younger’s heart to drop in anticipation as he squirmed like he’s never squirmed before.

The softshell poked the smaller turtle’s ribs teasingly a couple times, “You gonna get off of me now~?”

“IHI CAHA— *squeal* IHI CAHAN’T— *squeak*!!!” The younger teen cried out. Michelangelo was completely lost in his own laughter wonderland, still trying to at least get UP from his older brother’s lap. But with the softshell’s spider arms holding his wrists away from him, it made it even harder.

And the fact that he was completely laughing his shell off didn’t help either.

AND the fact that Donnie was making some dumb game out of this wasn’t helping either.

If there was one thing you needed to know about the youngest, it was that Mikey could not take the anticipation. At all.

Like, at. ALL.

And Donnie was just being pure Disney villain evil about it too. Which automatically made absolutely everything ten times worse…

Wait. Hold on a second…

What were even some purple Disney villain’s that Donnie resembled anyway?

Because at the end of the day the second oldest was a villain (no one just has uranium just casually stored in their room…), but Mikey just had to find out which villain.

The Evil queen? Nah. Too princessy.

Ursula? Nope. Too sea witchy.

Maleficent? No. Too emo (even for Donnie).

Dr. Facilier? …yes actually.

Donnie and Dr. Facilier don’t have similar goals per se but they definitely do look similar. And they dance the same to. They boogie down like they’re wet noodles just coming out of a boiling pot.

The box turtle isn’t usually known for throwing people under the bus…but somewhere, somehow, his purple cladded older brother was definitely on the watch list.

Now…what was Mikey doing?

Oh, yeah! Getting absolutely murdered by his older brother. Fantastic.

“Someone’s a little ticklish, huh?” The elder commented as the box turtle’s laughter kept ranging from a squeaky door to a door mouse.

“GYAHAH— *squeak* WAHA— EEEEHEHAHA!!!”

“Don’t worry, take your time.” The scientist giggled back.

“PLEHEASE!! DAHA— *squeak*!!! IHI CAHAN’T MOOHOOHOOVE!”

“So what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to get up from my lap?”

Mikey screeched, hitting his brother’s plastron with his shell and carapace, “IHI PHYSICAHALLY CAHAHANNOT MOOHOOVE YOHOU FUHUCKIN—!!!”

“I can give you until the count of ten. I’m adding an extra five seconds just because I’m so nice.”

“YOHOU AHARE NOHOWHERE NEAR NIHICE—“

“One…”

“WAHAIT WAHAHAIT!!!”

“Two…”

“DOHOH— *squeal* DEEHEE!”

“Three…”

“SHIHIHIT!!!”

“Four…”

“PLEHEHA— *squeal* MYHY GAHAHASH!”

“Five…”

“JUHUST GEHET OHOHON WIHITH IHIHIT!”

“Six…”

“DOHOHONNIE!!”

“Seven…”

“I WIHILL KIHILL YOHOU IN YOHOUR SLEEHEEHEEP!”

“I’d like to see you try. Anyways, eight…”

“EEEEEEE!!!”

“Nine…”

“GOHODDAMIHIT!”

“Ten~!”

Mikey braced himself both physically and mentally as Donnie said that dreadful double digit number. He rested the back of his head on his older brother’s shoulder, closing his eyes and pursing his lips to prepare from the attack.

But as the smaller mutant kept waiting and waiting…the tickles never came. The youngest hesitantly opened one eye as he saw his older brother’s fingers still wiggling right directly over his ribs.

All the while, the elder just smirked evilly. The box turtle grumbled through his stifled giggles, looking up so he could glare fully at his brother.

Dr. Facilier looking ass…

“Here it comes…” The young genius said with anticipation, “Annnnny moment…”

The box turtle broke eye contact, just shutting his eyes tight as he could do absolutely nothing but wait for his brother to do the inevitable. “You must be absolutely dying knowing it’s coming…” Donnie commented as Mikey just about screamed, not being able to hold the dam that was holding his laughs in any longer.

The softshell smiled at the cackles, tracing his fingers on his younger brother’s stomach, “I’m just sointrigued to find out what would happen if I just..” He trailed off, randomly poking right below the art loving turtle’s ribs.

The taller mutant just absolutely loved putting his brother’s on anticipatory rollercoaster’s when tickling them (as you can see).

“I could stay here alllllll day…” The elder mused, “My hands are riiiiiight here, Angleo~!”

“Fuhuhuck yohou…” Mikey giggled through gritted teeth, trying not to give his older brother an ounce of laughter whatsoever…but that ship has already sailed and went to a new ocean by now.

“Oh, wow. Cussing me out now, hm?” The purple banded turtle questioned in disbelief as he landed a couple last pokes to Mikey’s lower ribs, “NONONOHO NOHOHO! OHOMIGAHAHASH IHI’M SAHAHARRY!!!” The youngest immediately gave in and apologized, his laughs raising a higher octave than a flute ever possibly could as he descended into loud cackles.

“Really? Your 'sahaharry?'”

“YEHES *squeal* YEHEHEHES!!!”

The elder hummed in acknowledgment, scribbling his nails all over his baby brother’s ribs. Happy tears appeared in the younger’s eyes as he could really do nothing but just laugh at this point in time.

The youngest could barely even speak anymore, his giggles and squeals nearly drowning out his words, “STAHAH IHI C— *squeal* IHIHIT’S SOHO BAHAHAD!!! DEEHEE COHOME OHOHAHAN!”

“Amused laugh. Angelo, please. I’m barely tickling you.” Donnie said as he now kneaded Mikey’s lowest rib. In result, the younger immediately jolted backwards, catching the older teen completely off guard.

“OMIGOSH!!!” Donnie yelled in panic, his metal and meat fingers both stopping the tickling onslaught towards Mikey as he hugged him fully now. The scientist and the artist both fell down on the tile floor with the chair; the young geniuses battle-shell breaking their fall.

There was a slight pause of silence before both of the brother’s broke into a large fit of laughter. Michelangelo stood, helping his brother up as they both continued to laugh.

“Thahat wahas…oho my gohosh…” The softshell snickered, wiping a tear from his eye as he put the chair back to where it originally was. “Yohou lihiterally jumped uhus into tomorrow…” He commented.

Michelangelo panted heavily and let out soft giggles as he tried to catch his breath. The box turtle’s face was burning from how hard he’d been laughing but also because of how flustered he was due to the situation.

Mikey shrugged, “Whahat cahan I say? I’m aha mahahaster ahat acrobatics.”

Donatello raised a brow teasingly, facing his younger brother, “Oho, so you can do acrobatics but you can’t dance?”

“Okahay, now you juhust ruined thehehe moment.”

The purple banded turtle just chuckled, closing his laptop and putting it to charge on the desk. The smaller turtle grinned, going next to Donnie, “Sohoooo! Does thahat mean yohou like meehee mohore thahahan your computer and coding~?”

Donatello shrugged, trying to look uninterested, “Eh. I suppose so.”

“Awe, c’mon. You lohooove me.”

“I tolerate you. To an extent, anyway.”

“Wow. Thanks so much. I feel sooooo special.” Mikey deadpanned, putting a hand to his chest as Donnie hugged him. “As you should.” The elder said, glancing at his wrist-watch. “Hm. We should probably get some snacky-snacks…it’s around 1 p.m.” He stated, trying to walk to the exit/entrance but was stopped due to the result of the youngest still hugging him.

Donatello sighed fondly, peering down to the teen in question, “Your not going to let go of me, are you?”

“Nooope!”

“Figured.” The scientist huffed softly, shaking his head.

“Now let’s go to the kitchen!”Michelangelo beamed, him and Donnie shimmy-ing out of the purple room and into the hallway, on their way to find some 'snacky-snacks' to eat for lunch.

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

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

#Sfw tickle #Sfw tickle blog #Rottmnt tickle #Rottmnt tickle fic #Lee!Mikey #Ler!Donnie #Yo the PB&J duo are COOOOOKIIING 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾✨✨✨#I love these two sm they are my everything #But guys…#GUYS🫠🥲???#This was so embarrassing to write like omllll #Idk if I’m just in a Lee mood but like— the counting..#THE COUNTING⁉️⁉️⁉️#And the fact that Mikes was basically stuck and he could not MOVE⁉️⁉️⁉️#Yeah. No #I would sob 🤺🤺🤺 you guys would never see me—#Being a tickle fic writer can be so freaking funny 😭👍🏾#Rottmnt tickle fanfiction #Oh and I did a lot of Disney references cuz Rice is THE Disney fan 🥰💗💞💖💕#I feel bad I’ve been absolutely KILLING Mikey in these fics #I love him I swear 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾#Plzzz I’m dying I’m such a Switch guys bc like omfg imagine being in Donnie’s position 🥹🤩#SMSBDVDHSKSSK #Yeahhhh this fic got be seeing smells 🫠🫠🫠

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trashyswitch · 11 months

Text

Dangerous? Or Friendly?

Mike is fearful of the animatronics. I mean, can you blame him? They're huge! But Abby appears to gain their trust really quickly. Who are these ghost kids hidden in the animatronics? And why do they want to play with him so badly?

Thus begins the first of many FNAF Movie fanfics. I had started this fanfic before watching the movie. Then, when I watched the movie, I went home and tweaked it before finishing off the rest of the story. Naturally, this fanfic is going to contain spoilers. But despite that, I hope you like it!

Mike stared at the huge bear animatronic that was walking closer to him. He had picked up a chair in an attempt to hit the bear animatronic…or at the very least, keep some space between them…He desperately didn’t want to die by the animatronics tonight. All he wanted was to finish this shift and get the heck out of there.

“Mike!” He heard, running from the animatronics up to her brother. “They wouldn’t stop tickling me. I thought I was gonna die!” Abby explained.

Mike was too busy staring at the orange-coloured eyes of the bear animatronic. It was not only huge, but the thing was growling at him suspiciously. He was too busy focusing on that, to realize Abby’s choice of words at first.

“Freddy…this is my brother, Mike.” Abby told the bear.

The bear looked Mike up and down, still suspicious of the adult in front of it. Mike didn’t know what to say…or even what to do. The only thing keeping him safe was the wooden chair in his hands. According to Abby, these huge machines weren’t really hurting her…well, not technically. They were tickling her, but not really causing any other harm to her. But he didn’t care if they were harmless right now…the animatronics were still hella terrifying…

Freddy’s eyebrows dropped their ferocious scowl and raised into a more ‘happy’ facial expression. Mike was a little taken aback by this. Was Freddy…not angry at him anymore? Then, the bunny animatronic started making its way up to Mike next. Still scared of the other animatronics, Mike quickly aimed the chair towards the bunny, making sure to keep some distance between them. “Stay there.” He warned. “Abby, get behind me.” he attempted to order.

Abby looked at her brother with worry. “They’re not gonna hurt you. You’re with me.” She told him.

Mike was still unsure though. He'd rather risk losing their trust and keep the chair up, than lower the chair and let his guard down. As much as he trusted his sister…he was too scared to do anything that risked getting him killed. But…if he’s with Abby…and Abby gained the trust of the animatronics…then maybe…

“This is Freddy, Bonnie, Foxy and Chica.” Abby told him, pointing to every animatronic as she said the names.

He started to lower the chair. The chicken and the fox animatronics made their way closer to Mike as well, soon surrounding Mike in somewhat of a rough circle. Mike looked a little more nervous now…cause it seemed that no matter where he looked, an animatronic would be staring right at him. Though Freddy and Bonnie’s eyebrows had calmed down and showed its trust, the others hadn’t yet. They still looked as suspicious as ever.

But right as Mike felt like he finally had some control and comfort…he felt a single poke to his side.

“-?!” Mike jumped, barely making a sound as he contorted his body to look at the animatronic that had poked him. “Who did that?!” He asked, staring at both the chicken and the fox.

Abby giggled. “Chica did!” She told him.

“W-which one? The…yellow one?” Mike asked.

“Yup! Chica, as in chicken.” Abby replied.

Though he would never admit it, Abby’s wordplay…was actually a good strategy to help him remember the name.

“W-what…” Mike attempted to ask Chica as it got slightly closer. “What are you…”

Another poke hit him right in the ribs, surprising Mike enough to let out something. “aAh-?!” His voice wobbled, a strained, tiny smile appearing on his face for only a moment. “No.” Mike warned the fox, who was staring at Mike and holding its index finger up in frozen shock.

Abby smirked. “Uh oh~” she teased.

“Abby, no.” Mike warned his sister.

“It’s too late~” Abby teased evilly, letting out a giggle.

“Abby- GaAha-!” He jumped again, curling in a little bit and temporarily losing his footing.

“Go for the ribs and armpits!” Abby declared.

Mike looked over at Abby with panic and betrayal. “ABBY!” He reacted.

“His feet are ticklish too! Hehehe!” Abby giggled.

Mike shot Abby a fearful glare. “Shut it!” He ordered. Then he looked at the animatronics, which were all staring at Mike just inches away from him. “Sh-she’s lying!” He told them desperately, hoping and praying they don’t try anything.

But this lie didn’t do anything…in fact, all it did was encourage Abby to run up and squeeze his sides! Mike gasped and hugged himself, curling up a bit and trying to keep his laughter in. “aAH- ST-Stop- stOP!” He ordered in desperation. Though they weren’t the most ticklish spot, they were still bad enough to render him somewhat helpless.

“See?” Abby told the animatronics with a proud, shit-eating grin.

The animatronics looked back and forth amongst each other, showing contentment in their robot faces. Mike didn’t know whether he wanted to strangle his sister, or run away. He loved his sister, but my god…the girl loved to test the waters and make him question it. And if this week wasn’t evidence enough of that…then I don’t know what was.

On top of that, Mike could feel his knees beginning to buckle due to his sister’s tickles. He was curling into the sides and fighting every instinct to flee as he felt his legs weaken further and further. He knew he was going down slowly…but he was not going down without a vigorous fight. But his arms could only protect so much at once, especially when you’re trying to prove to the animatronics just how not ticklish he was. The truth was…Abby was right. He’s very ticklish, and wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

The man wasn’t sure if he should continue to fight on, or just give up and laugh.

…And then Abby pulled a brutal move on him…by squeezing his lower ribs.

“aAAHA!” Mike dropped to his knees and hugged his ribs. “A-ABBYHYHY-!” Mike shouted, flopping onto his side and kicking his legs as Abby playfully dug further into his ribs. Mike had closed his eyes…which meant he couldn’t see the animatronics’ reactions and movements. Dammit, Abby! Why must she do this to him!?

Mike’s panic only exacerbated the moment he felt a pair of large, metal, blue hands grab his waist and lift him up. Yes…I am not kidding. The animatronic lifted him up like a toddler, not even phased by the size and weight of this security guard. “AAH! NO! LET ME GO!” Mike shouted, now squirming and kicking his feet wildly. But to no one’s surprise, not even a body shift could compromise the animatronic’s undeniable strength. Whoever thought making scarily strong animatronics like this was a good idea…was unbelievably insane.

“Wow! Bonnie’s really strong!” Abby reacted, somehow unphased by this huge feat.

But Mike’s squirming halted for only a moment when he felt skitters and squeezes on his upper ribs. Mike gasped and started squirming for a completely different reason, as a wobbly, stupid little smile began to fill his lips. “Ohno- NONONO-!” Mike opened his eyes and screeched as he felt the fat skittering fingers of the bear animatronic, moving up and down his lower front ribs. Finally, Mike burst out in surprised laughter as he tried and failed to get out of their strong grip. “OHGOD NOHOHOHOhohooo! aaAAHAHAAA-!? NOHOHO! Thihis isn’t fahahairrr!” He laughed.

Abby was giggling like mad, loving every second of this. “Hahaha! How’s it feel being tickled by robot tickle monsters?” Abby asked with a grin.

“Thihihis ihis INSAHAHAHANE!” He hung his head and shook in Bonnie’s grasp. “C-Cohohome ohon-” He jumped and lost his composure yet again, when he felt the blue fingers going up his ribs slightly to the 4th or 5th rib. “NAHAHAHAhahahaha! W-WAHAIT- GAHAHAhahaha!” Mike yelled.

Abby smiled brightly. “Go for the armpits! His armpits are bad too! They make him all squeaky!” Abby told Freddy.

Mike groaned through his laughter. “Abs plehehease stohohohop!” He pleaded. “Yohohohou’re nohohot- NO!” Mike screeched and yelled as Bonnie scooted its hands slightly lower on his ribs, presumably so Freddy had more access to his underarms…

Why Abby keeps telling Freddy and the animatronics his ticklish secrets, he could not tell you. But man, he was tempted to tickle his sister to tears the moment he got free.

“F-FREDDYWAIT-” Mike stared at the thick fingers that were subtly threatening to tickle his now-vulnerable armpits. When Freddy had placed the fingers mere millimeters away from his armpits, Mike knew he was doomed. But still…he tried one last attempt to ask for freedom. He gulped. “Uh….m-mercy?” He asked rather anxiously.

Freddy’s ears wiggled slightly before the fingers finally touched down on his armpits. Just the touch down was ticklish enough! But when the fingers started MOVING?! HOLY CRAP, IT TICKLED LIKE MAD! Any amount of laughter that filled his lungs, came out in an uncharacteristic, high-pitched squeal. “aaaAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHO! NaAaAAH! NAHAHAHEHEHEHE!” Mike squeaked and squealed through his laughter.

Abby just laughed as she watched. “Isn’t Mike’s laugh funny?” Abby asked.

Freddy then stopped his tickle attack for a moment, to let the man breathe. Mike treated the break like a trophy, and happily took advantage. It was like he hadn’t taken a breath in years! The feeling of a simple breath made him overwhelmed with gratitude. He cleared his throat a little bit as he tried to pull himself together.

Once Mike felt calm enough to properly think, he tried to get himself free from Bonnie’s grip. “Okay…You had your fun. Can you please let me go now?” Mike asked.

Abby looked at the other animatronics and watched as they…almost conversed with each other. Mike watched them with both confusion, and fear in his eyes. He lowered himself slightly to talk to Abby. “What’s happening? What are they talking about?” Mike asked.

She giggled. “They’re talking about what tickle spot to go for next.” She told him outright.

Mike bit his lip. Oh no…Not good.

Wait…How does she know?! Can she- Can she TALK TO THEM?!

Mike widened his eyes and turned to Abby with fear visible in his eyes. “Can you tell them to stop?” Mike asked.

Abby tilted her head. “Why? They just want to play.” She told him.

“I…I don’t have time to play. I’m supposed to be working.” Mike told him.

The animatronics stopped their ‘conversation’ and looked over at Mike and Abby. Mike tensed up slightly as he stared at the animatronic bear’s eyes again. Something about those eyes looked dead inside, yet…their eyes glowed in a human-kind of way that made a shiver move up his spine. It was nerve-wracking, and he wasn’t sure he liked it all that much.

But Freddy looked over at Chica, and…started waving for Chica to come over. Mike widened his eyes and started squirming all over again. No no no, that chicken thing had better not be getting closer to him. Abby had gasped and covered her mouth, letting out an excited squeal. Oh no! What in the world were they planning that was so exciting to her?!

“Abby?! What are they planning?!” Mike asked.

Abby looked at Mike, and giggled menacingly. For the love of-WHY WON’T SHE TELL HIM?!

Mike looked at the chicken animatronic and prepared himself. “Chick-Chica NO.” Mike lifted his right foot up and started pushing against Chica’s middle chest. “Stay back. I’m warning you.” He ordered before pushing with his other foot as well, in an attempt to get the animatronic away from him.

But to both Mike AND Abby’s surprise, Chica grabbed his ankles, and gave him a bit of a tug. And to Mike’s horror, Bonnie let go of him and let him fly upside down! “WhooOOHNO-”

Abby gasped and held her stomach as she bursted out laughing.

Mike felt his bangs fall above his head as he struggled to come to terms with being upside down. Great…Looks like the animatronics were just toying with him at this point.

“Abs, please…” Mike said, looking at her upside down. “What are they doing?” He asked, confused and worried. But his attention switched over to the fiddling and adjusting he felt against his shoe. “What-” Mike muttered as he curled himself up, attempting to see how his feet were being toyed with. “Hey! Stop that!” He ordered.

But Mike widened his eyes in horror the second he felt his shoe being slipped off his foot. SHIT!

“OHNO-?!” Mike started to panic as he heard the shoe fall to the ground. “Abby help!” Mike yelled as he pulled on his ankles and struggled to get himself right side up. “ABBY!” Mike held his arms out desperately.

Abby only giggled. “You are all gonna love this! His feet are so ticklish!” Abby told them excitedly.

Mike groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Abbyyyy…” Mike groaned.

“And don’t forget his piggies!” Abby teased.

“Abby-” Mike was growing somewhat impatient with his sister by this point.

“Though be careful with his toes. He might die if he’s tickled too much there.” She warned.

Heh…‘Be careful’...Hearing that was funny enough in its own right. At least she has the right of mind to tell them to at least be careful…

His breath hitched the moment he felt a fat finger on the arch of his socked left foot. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his mouth with his hands. NO. They are NOT getting away with tickling him again. Nuh uh, no way. They can fight with him all they want to, but they will NEVER get a laugh out of him! Not now, not ever again.

Or so he thought…

Only one little flutter…right under his toes…was enough to make every bit of laughter burst out of him. The poor man threw his arms against his chest and leaned his head back slightly as every laugh he had bunched up in his lungs, had finally let themselves free. “GAHAHAHAHAhahahaha! Ohohokahay, okahahahayyyyy!” Mike yelled.

“YAY!” Abby declared, laughing alongside him.

Mike put his hands in praying position. “Yohohou got mehehehee! P-Plehehehease stohohop! Ihihihi’m lahahaughihihing ehenohohough!” He pleaded.

“Okay, let’s stop.” Abby told Chica.

Chica moved its fingers away, and looked at Abby for her next instruction.

Abby waited a few seconds, while listening to his brother breathe somewhat heavily from exhaustion. “You okay?” Abby asked.

Mike huffed and puffed a few more times. “Ihihi…Ihi’m okay…I’m good.”

“Do you need a break?” Abby asked.

“Thahat…would be nihice.” Mike admitted.

“Okay.” Abby replied. “How about…in a few more minutes?” Abby asked, looking at the animatronics. Mike nodded his head. A break sounded amazing right about now. Especially if…wait, did she say ‘in a few minutes’?

“Okay go!” Abby suddenly told Chica.

Mike’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Wait WHA-”

Mike shrieked as the fat fingers started tickling him all over again. He couldn’t even hold in his laughter this time, instead just letting it fall out of him. “BAAAHAHAHAhahAHAhahaha!” Mike cackled, shocked by the sudden tickles against the ball of his foot. When he finished his fit, Mike took in a breath and squealed in a rather high-pitched voice before falling into another fit of cackles. “Plehehehehehease! HAHahahaha! Ihihit’s toohoohoohoo ticklihihish!” He told Abby.

“So ticklish you can’t remember your right from left?”

“HEHEhehehehe- Yehehehehesss!” He replied.

Abby walked closer to Mike and started poking and tickling his sides. “How about now?”

Mike jumped and grunted, grasping at his sister’s hands, laughing slightly harder. This is the most Abby has touched him, let alone tickled him, in quite a long time. And though he was technically in a very vulnerable position right now, there were much worse scenarios to be stuck in.

“Alright. Let’s stop for real this time.” Abby told Chica.

Chica stopped its fingers.

“Can you flip him the right way, Chica?” Abby asked.

Chica lowered its body down and placed its hands under Mike to help pick him up. “ooOKAY…” Mike felt as Chica grabbed under his arms and nodded to Bonnie. With that nod, Bonnie let go of Mike’s feet and let them drop. “Okay- OW.” He yelped as his foot inevitably hit Bonnie’s leg. “Ohokay.” He muttered. Chica lowered Mike down till his feet were touching the ground. “Thank you…” He huffed and attempted to pull himself together. “Not…sure how I feel about you being able to lift me so easily…” Mike admitted. Chica removed his fingers, accidentally tickling his armpit one more time. This made Mike jump snicker one last time.

Abby shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Abby asked.

Mike turned to his sister…and slowly gave her a devious smile. “Get over here, you ticklish tattle-tale!” He declared, picking her up and skittering his fingers all over her ribs and belly. “Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tickle~!” He teased, using toddler-like teases so he could further torment her.

“MIHIHIKE- HAHAhahahaha! NAHAHA- SOHOHORRYYYY!” She shouted.

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Abs.” He teased. “You understood exactly what they were doing, and didn’t bother to tell me all of it.” He moved his fingers to her belly button, earning him a high-pitched squeal. “AND you couldn’t keep your mouth shut about how ticklish I am!” He added. “You’re a little menace who deserves to laugh just as much as I did.” He told her.

“NAAAAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT MY BEHEHELLY BUTTOHOHOHON!” She pleaded.

“What belly button?” He asked innocently. “I didn’t know you had a belly button! Let me see!” Mike picked her up bridal style and blew a raspberry onto her belly button.

Abby squealed and screamed with laughter as the raspberry filled her belly, before stopping. He lowered her sister down, and continued to hold her bridal style. Abby was still a bit of a giggly mess despite not being tickled for nearly as long. He put her down onto her feet. “There. Should we make it a tie?” He asked, holding his hand up.

Abby nodded her head and gave him a high five. With that set in motion, Mike started to collect his stuff and take Abby out to the car. Funnily enough, the animatronics had tickled him up until his shift had ended.

And by the time Mike had pulled into the driveway, Abby was sound asleep against the car door with a mauve blanket being used as a pillow.

#possessed animatronics #meeting the classic animatronics #protective mike schmidt #abby schmidt is a menace #ticklefic #ler!animatronics #switch!mike #switch!abby #they just want to play #fnaf movie spoilers

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icannotthinkofagoodname1 · 8 months

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I need to take Mike away from the majority of Byler shippers until they learn how to actually understand him as a character…

#Mileven #stranger things #I will soon be writing basically a 2000 word post on this #some of the stuff I’ve read recently is. wow #anti b*ler #I’m hoping I’ve used the right tags #I hate their posts in the mileven tag so I don’t want to do the same #:)#el #eleven #Mike wheeler #Mike

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fluffyficsanddreams · 11 months

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When was the last time you smiled?

It was the early afternoon at the Schmidt household, bright sunlight pouring in from the windows and into the living room where Mike and Abby were sitting. Abby, of course, was drawing yet another picture on the coffee table seated on the floor. Mike was dozing on the couch, in and out of sleep as he was still recovering from last night’s shift. The girl looked up momentarily to look at her sleeping brother, noticing the heavy darkness that hung underneath his eyes. She exhaled, not entirely sure of how to help him in any way.

After a few more minutes, she felt her stomach growling with hunger and she wasn’t sure of how to make any food for herself. Abby stood and stepped to her brother’s side, gently shaking his shoulder. “Mike?” She asked.

He grumbled in response, shifting on the couch and turning his head away. Why’d she have to bother him now, when he was finally able to get some peaceful sleep?

Abby huffed and prodded him in the arm repeatedly, to which Mike didn’t budge. She was only met with annoyed grunts, growls and grumbles.

Or, at least, that was until she accidentally missed his arm and poked him in the side. Mike jumped and actually *squeaked*, moving away from his sister as his eyes fluttered open. “Abby.. don’t…” He growled, clamping his arms to his sides as he slowly woke himself up to guard himself from his now mischievous sister.

Abby smiled and continued to prod and poke him in the side as soon as she realized what was happening. Mike covered his face with his hands, hiding his slowly spreading wobbly smile as he stifled chuckles. “Abby..” He growled through clenched teeth, giggling breaking through his tough facade. His sister continued nonetheless, now moving her little hands to his abdomen, which caused the man to curl in on himself and fall into low giggling that he was clearly trying to hide. “St—stohohop..” Mike tried to warn, punctuated by strangely adorable laughter. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you smile.” Abby commented, crawling on top of her brother to scribble her small fingers between his ribs. Mike let out a squeak and fell into a fit of not-so-tired-anymore laughter. He was definitely awake at this point as he struggled to stifle his loud laughter threatening to pour out. “Staahp! Abby!” He arched his back to high heaven as he buried his face in his hands, shoulders bobbing with strong laughter. He was trying so hard not to throw her off, while also trying not to give his sister what she wanted.

“Mikeeeey, you have to just let go!” Abby giggled, trying to get him to uncover his face while also still jabbing her fingers into his side. The man snorted in the middle of his laughing, his face flushing a shade of red as he did so. “ABBS-! Thihis isn’t fUHUnny!” Mike protested, eventually flipping his sister off of him and onto the couch cushion. He heaved for breath, his face still flushed as he wiped a little bit of sweat from his forehead. “You’re such a tease..” He chuckled, poking Abby in the side. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Mike did feel a lot happier now… and he enjoyed being tickled at the end of the day. He needed the laughs.

And… he found himself making mac and cheese 10 minutes later.

#sfw tickle community #tickle fic #lee!mike #ler!abby #fluff #siblings #fnaf movie tickles #fnaf tickles #mike schmidt #short fic

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thisisvalid3 · 7 months

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My birthday was last week and the Duffers really came through and gave ME, gave US the greatest gift of all. The Will content we all deserve after an eternity of waiting. Much love to the By's and to the Ler's. Let's fucking get it 🗣🗣👏👏👏

#byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #mike x will #will byers revealed #love to the bys and to the lers

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jonathanbyersphd · 1 year

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#Before you come for me I could only add 10 things!#I should make it a tournament #Even though I know who the winner is gonna be but I wanna see if they solo or if there's a runner-up #Stranger Things #Polls #Will Byers #Mike Wheeler #Lucas Sinclair #Dustin Henderson #El Hopper #El Hopper Byers #Joyce Byers #Jonathan Byers #Nancy Wheeler #the party #I am purposely not tagging b*ler bc I want everyone to have a fair shot #at first

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imma-vincent-van-gogh-kms · 9 months

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Karma

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Manitoba got his karma before being released like the others (idk man)

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Lers: Mike, Svetlana, Vito. Lee: Manitoba, somewhat Vito

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As Mike had helped Svetlana, Vito, and himself free he went to go help Mani, calling him “Manitoba! Finally-” but Mani interrupted him by saying, “Can’t talk now, BIG fire to fill.” (I couldn’t understand what he said) “What’s Mal making you do?” Mike asked with curiosity. “See them clouds?” He asked he he had everyone look up “Thems your dreams. My job is to get rid of ‘em so you can never enjoy ‘em again!” He said as he lassoed one and brought it down, Mike and Zoey kissing in the rain then faded onto it. “Oh, it’s that dream I had about kissing Zoey in the rain!” Mike said happily before continuing with, “Oh, I loved that dream!” As Svetlana added, “So romantical!” Before Manitoba threw it into the bonfire in front of him as Mike protested by saying, “Wha-?! Don’t do that!” He hollered a bit “Love to, mate. But Mal’s the boss.” He informed as Mike grumbled.

“As soon as I regain control I’m gonna give Zoey a REAL kiss. One that Mal can’t ruin!” He told himself openly as Manitoba threw another dream into the fire. “Aw c’mon! Stop burning up my dreams!” Manitoba just looked at him with an eyebrow raised as he tossed another dream into the flames. “Right- that’s it!” Before Mani could react, Mike pounced on him and began scribbling his fingers along Mani’s ribs “Woah there— Mike what are yOHOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! MIHIHIKE! WHAT ARE YOU- *snort* STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Mani snorted with laughter as he tried squirming away, despite Mike sitting on his waist. Svetlana and Vito share a glance before simultaneously shrugging as they walked over to the two, Svetlana looming over Mani’s face and Vito on his side.

Svetlana then grabbed Manitoba’s wrists and held them over his head as Vito began tickling his armpits and ribs as Mike shifted his tickling towards Mani’s belly. “CRIHIHIKEHEHEHEHEHEHEY!! *snort* SVETLANAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-! LET- LET GOHOHOHOHO!” He pleaded as he began kicking his legs “Sorry Mani, but you brought this upon yourself” She shrugged As Mike and Vito switched places, except Mike was next to Manitoba’s clamped ankle, holding his leg in an armlock as he removed his shoe and began scribbling his fingers along Mani’s foot. “GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA N-NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!” He squealed as he tried jerking his foot away but Mike kept it in his grasp. “I didn’t expect you’s to be this ticklish, Mani” Vito teased, now tickling Manitoba’s stomach as Svetlana let go of his wrists and tickled under his arms. “OHOHOGO MY LOHOHOHOHORD! *snort* STOP IHIHIHIT!!” He protested and screeched with laughter as the tickling continued.

Before Mani knew it, one of Svetlana’s hands made it to his ear, softly tickling the back of it “BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA!! *snort* NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE! NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!! *snort* CRIKEHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHEY!” He screeched as Vito, Svetlana, and Mike stopped tickling for a moment as they stared at him whilst he caught his breath. “Wha…what are y’all lookin’ at?” He asked as he noticed them all staring at him. “Are you seriously THAT ticklish on your EARS, of all places??” Vito asked as Mani tried hiding his face in his fedora. “No, no, don’t hide now!” Svetlana said as she took his hat from his face, adding “We would like an answer.” She finished. “Uhm..I guess so..?” Mani replied with a wobbly smile and light nervous chuckle.

Apparently, it wasn’t a good enough answer as the three other alters continued their tickling, must to Manitoba’s dismay. “GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! *snort* NO MOHOHOHOHORE! NO MORE, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!” He practically begged for it to stop at that point as the three shared a glance before the two other guys gave Svetlana THE look as she smiled excitedly, Vito and Mike moving so she could sit on his waist. She then lifted his shirt up a bit as Vito and Mike kept his arms above his head, she then took a deep breath and blew raspberries on Mani’s belly as he practically SCREECHED. “AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! *snort* OHOHO MY LOHOHOHORD!! STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!!” He begged before they all finally stopped and let him up. Mike undid Mani’s chain clampy thing that was on his ankle as Mani put his shoe back on.

“Did you learn your lesson, Mani?” Mike asked as he crossed his arms. “Nope! But I did learn not to make you mad cuz good Lord..” He said as he put one of his hands on his stomach to rub off the phantom tickles. “Well, just know karma always bites ya in the ass” Vito said as he checked his nails, earning a poke to the giggle button and a glare from Svetlana.

#total drama tickle #lee!manitoba #ler!mike #ler!vito #ler!svetlana #lee!vito

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runninguplenorahills · 1 year

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Ooohhhhh the block button of people saying that Will deserves better than Mike looks so good 😍

#please stfu #this is byler #by-ler #ler as in wheeler as in mike wheeler #we’re here for him too #will deserves mike and mike deserves will #because they both deserve the best and they’re the best for each other #and they want each other!#mike wheeler protection squad #byler

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daisylovestickles · 3 months

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Totally isn’t a dare but

I want @mike-the-switch to tickle me

#you didn’t see anything #Mike the switch #such a mean ler #but I love it

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kanene-yaaay · 8 months

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The Cat and the Hare (I won't stop running so don't you stop trying to catch me)

Kanene's notes: EVERYONE WAKE UPPPP BECAUSE TODAY IS @squeaky-n-blushy 's BIRTHDAYYYYY and since she and I have a clown to clown communication and a lot of screaming around Pac and Cellbit I wanted to make a fic to celebrate this day and our friendship. Thanks a lot, bean, for being so cool!! <3 <3

And about the fic I am so Unwell about Pac and Cellbit's friendship like WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING HERE YA KNOW??

Warnings: Uhh, I don't think there is any? There is a few mentions of hunting and prey but it's lighthearted and not too prevalent on the fic. Ticklish!Pac and Ler!Cellbit for the win. Around 8.000 words :D

[~*~]

Mike knows, of course.

Sometimes Pac wondered if his soulmate was able to realize what was happening even before he himself did. It was one of the perks and pains of spending your entire life with someone who you could trust blindly with everything that could ever matter and who you knew as the palm of your own hand.

It was quite nice, most of the time.

Except, of course, when Mike decided that he was going to be an insufferable prick about it.

“Não, não, não. Tá na hora de acabar com essa palhaçada.” (No, no, no. Time to end with this bullshit.) The annoyed shout was so out of nowhere that it almost made Pac fall from the roof of the Barbie house, turning to look at the other who was pointing at him with a hammer and seemed two seconds away from hitting him with it. “ ‘Fi, você vai lá falar com ele agora mesmo.” (Dude, you’re going to talk with him right now.)

Pac ignored how his cheeks already began prickling with heat, knowing in the same moment what the other was talking about.

Shit, his feelings must have leaked through their soulbond.

“Qué que ‘cê tá falando, moço, tô sabendo desse negócio que ‘cê tá falando aí não uai.” (Whatcha ya talkin’ about, dude, don’t have any idea watcha you talkin about.)

“Num tá sabendo, é? Não tá sabendo, mas vai começar a saber agora e não adianta ficar me imitando não.” (Dunno, uh? You may not know but you’re going to start knowing right now and mimicking me won’t help you at all.)

Oof, he was with that determined look. There was no escaping for Pac in this one. Mike turned around, got a ladder and climbed it. He ignored the phantom feeling of bubbly giggles that definitely weren’t his began tickling the back of his throat joyfully.

“Porque,” Mike continued. “Se eu tiver que ver o Cellbit mais uma vez e ficar com vontade de ficar dando risadinha que nem o nosso menininho, eu vou explodir esse Murder Mystery todo.” (Because, if I have to see Cellbit one more time and keep wanting to giggle like our little boy I’m going to blow up the entire Murder Mystery)

“Não, Mike!” (Mike, no!)

“ ‘Não, Mike’, nada! Eu vou, Pac. Vou explodir toda essa bagaceira aqui. Quer ver, hein? Quer ver?” (‘Mike, no’, my ass. I’m going to, Pac. I’m going to blow up all this clownery. Wanna see, huh, wanna see?)

“Explode aí então que eu quero ver. Bora, bora, que se dane já isso tudo!” (Yeah, blow it up, then, I wanna see. Let’s go, let’s go. To hell with all of this!)

Both of them stared at each other, Mike with the explosives on his hands and Pac with wide attentive eyes.

Silence passed like a lazy cat across them.

“Eu não, ‘cê tá louco, é? Mó trabalho que deu pra construir essa arena aqui e eu vou lá explodir ela agora.” (No, didya lost ya mind? So much work to build this arena, no way I’m blowin’ it up now.)

The one with blue hoodie crackled, muscles relaxing from being ready to sprint and steal all the tnt before his soulmate could use it in case it wasn’t a joke. Mike’s own laughter also followed his, getting closer until he was sitting by his side in a relaxed manner, green eyes watching him behind his crooked lens.

“Então, você quer que eu te faça cócegas?” (So, you want me to tickle you?)

His tune was nonchalant and Pac could literally feel how chill he was with his own words, perhaps even a little amused with the floating, excited butterflies that immediately appeared on their soulbond with his question.

The fact that Pac loved being tickled and to tickle his friends hadn’t been a secret between them for a long while, now. Had been discovered when they were just two little kids against the world in that orphanage and discussed in a late night whispered conversation in their first prototype of a laboratory.

Mike knew that when, for some reason or not, he would suddenly get giddy, a little shy and a bunch more playful, carrying a giggle on the tip of his tongue and an electricity on his skin, it meant that Pac would love to get into a tickle fight or to become a mess of snickers as Mike kept sneaking the words ‘cócegas’ and ‘cosquinhas’ in their daily interactions and throwing at him one or two pokes of fun.

“Hm, quero dizer… você pode?” (Hm, I mean… you can?)

He scratched the back of his head and avoided his eyes. The one wearing a green creeper shirt squinted at him. That wasn’t Pac usual “I’m feeling too embarrassed and silly but also excited to look at you right now”, it was more like his “uhhh, not sure how to say that you’re wrong uhhh.”

Mike sighed and crossed his arms. He was not going to move from there until this was solved and he knew Pac was fully aware of this by the way the other pouted in defeat.

“Bora, fala logo, Pac.” (C’mon, spit it out, Pac.)

“Você lembra de semana passada, quando o Roier e o Cellbit estavam esperando pela gente na Ordo Theoritas?” (Remember last week when Roier and Cellbit were waiting for us in Ordo Theoritas?)

Mike tried to. Cellbit was a solid part of his family - even if he would have no qualms in immediately calling him out of his bullshit if he showed even a trace of coming back to that asshole he was on the prison - and he really liked Roier a lot but those two were so insufferably in love and happily married when they were together that it was hard to not roll his eyes at it. I mean, he gets it! He was too happily married but you wouldn’t see him around the Spawn or the entire island getting all lovey doey with Mine at every second of their day.

(The fact that Mine was a goodness and that their connection had been difficult and faulty since the first day they got stuck on the island was simply a detail and no, he didn’t want to talk about it.)

Last week has been when the detective found some interesting information in an old abandoned laboratory of the Federation and called everyone for a meeting since it looked like it had potential to be about the eggs or the codes, if Mike wasn’t mistaken. Since he and Pac were around the Favela finishing some buildings at the time, they were the first to get there, finding the meeting room being already occupied by Cellbit and Roier in the middle of a tickle fight, - probably a started by Roier but which Cellbit was clearly winning - probably because they weren’t expecting anyone to appear so soon but also seemed to be too lost in their own silliness to even listen to the sound of the elevator or them arriving.

Mike just loudly complained and threw a few grinning teases at them, not thinking too much about it. Albeit, as it seems, that had been enough to bring Pac’s lee mood back to life.

“Lembrei.” (I remember.)

They looked at each other. Since his hands wouldn’t be necessary, the one with permanently crooked glasses started messing around with the redstone system of the house, trying to fix it for the sixth time. “Bem, isso explica porque é sempre o Cellbit, então. ‘Cê vai pedir pra ele?” (Well, that explains why it’s always Cellbit, then. Are you going to ask him?)

Pac grumbled and flooped on the roof. “Não dá, eu já tentei. Fui tentar puxar uma guerra de cosquinha perto dele com o Richas mas eu travei e no fim eles foram embora. Eu não consigo, Mike, eu não consigo!” (I can’t, I already tried. I tried to start a tickle war next to him with Richas but I froze and in the end they went away. I can’t, Mike, I can’t!)

“Mas tu tem que tomar coragem, Pac. Tem que ir lá e falar mesmo. Se fosse eu, eu falava!” (But you need to be braver, Pac! Gotta get there and ask. If it was me, I would ask.)

“Falava é? Porque eu me lembro muito bem do seu primeiro encontro com a Mine…” (You would, yeah? Because I remember very well about your and Mine’s first date…) Pac’s laughter quickly transformed into a shout when the other pushed him, making him roll across the titles for a few centimeters before stopping. “Tu vai me jogar, homi! Tá doido, é?” (You’re going to make me fall, man! Are you crazy?)

“Sempre fui, sempre fui.” (Always have been. Always have been.)

They chuckled and, in between shoves and jokes, went back to their construction.

Pac thought that the subject had ended there, then, that he would eventually get over his mood and continue his life. But he should’ve known that Mike was too annoying (caring) to let it go.

That was how he ended up like this.

Pac looked up, looking at those brown eyes shine back at him with a mischievous light. He squirmed a bit, but soon it was clear that he was totally trapped on the couch by the investigator’s body, who kept watching his expressions with curiosity and a hint of something else.

(It was hunger. Pac would recognize that glint anywhere.)

The scientist could feel each heartbeat in his chest and every butterfly flying on his stomach, small bolts of electricity scurrying away from his trapped wrist, fingertips twisting, almost being able to touch the sparkles in the air.

“Pac,” there were moments when Cellbit slipped and let one or two of his feline traits escape from his firmly constructed barrier. This time, it was in the way that his voice curled around his name, in a mix of a pleased purring and a warning growl that made a zing shot through his spine. “There’s no need to look so worried, I think you just didn't listen to my question very well in the first time… What is the code, Pac?”

If he wasn’t looking at his friend, he would’ve lost it, but the question was exactly what it looked like: an escape route. It was in the way that the hold of his right wrist loosened a little and how those brown eyes ran across his face - searching, poking, prodding, wanting to know - on the look for any trace of discomfort or fear, getting ready to jump away in the same second if he found anything. Pac was sure that he could just spill the eight numbers he knew by heart and then Cellbit would immediately get up, open the security door to the last phase of their puzzle and let him free to go.

Simple like that.

Quite boring, if he was being honest.

Pac grinned before letting his head fall slightly to the side, brows furrowing in a perfect confused face, voice light and just a tad too innocent.

(He wasn’t really afraid.)

(Cellbit could show himself to be as strong and ruthless as he wanted. Pac always had been the fastest one.)

(Just one of them had been able to get out of Alcatraz after all.)

“ Code? W-what are you talking about, Cellbit? I don’t know any code.”

“The specific numbers that will open the door and let me finally get to the bottom of the mystery that I’ve been puzzling out for one entire week. That code, Pac.”

A small shudder took over his body, whether it was for the lack of his hoodie or the hand that suddenly came to dangerously rest on his side, it wasn’t clear. A wobbly smile blossomed in his face.

That reaction didn’t go unnoticed by the other.

“Uhhh…” Pac pursed and popped his lips, resting his head on the cushions and looking at the ceiling, gaze quickly jumping across the room in a nervous manner. He still could feel those glimmering eyes on him. “I don’t really know any code.”

The fingers began curling on his side, short nails barely scratching the skin, he bit his lower lip.

“You sure?”

(Can I?)

“Y-yeah! I d-don’t even know what you’re talking about, moço. Just saw a sign that said ‘Free Food’ and got in the warplate and boom! Suddenly I’m here with you. We’re both kind of stuck here, you know?” His gaze went back to focus on the other, refusing with all his might to even acknowledge the twitching hand on his side that kept bringing awful tingles and freaking out the butterflies on his belly.

He continued the rest of his sentence in one quick breath.

“It’s not like I am part of the puzzle and was asked to guard the secret code that could lead you to finally getting your final prize since it’s the end of the investigation and deciding to not give it to you. That would be totally crazy. I would never do that. Never, ever, in one billion years. Nuh uh. Nunquinha.”

Cellbit’s left eye trembled in a signal of poorly disguised stress. Bad and Bagi had the same habit. It was quite funny to see.

Pac jumped when the touch suddenly got firmer and a pinch was delivered on his torso. A high pitched squeak quickly scrambled from his lips before he could stop it.

Having already gotten the reaction that he wanted, Cellbit showed him a smile.

Oh no, he was absolutely screwed.

“Alright, Pac. I believe in what you’re saying. You’re part of the family so you would never lie to me, would you?”

The scientist watched as Cellbit’s hand lifted up from its spot on his side and began going upwards, slowly crawling along his torso until it stopped on his forearm, tracing on his skin as the other hand kept his arm all trapped and nice above his head.

His fingertips started dancing and scribbling on the spot, following the goosebumps that tried to run away from the tickles, spreading across his nerves and obliging Pac to firmly press his lips in a thin line, giggles getting ready to jump out at any chance on the tip of his tongue.

The investigator cleaned his throat, calling his attention once again and holding it with analytical eyes. His voice came out rough, slow, savoring every word. “Would you, Pac?”

Pac was glad that he didn’t even try to open his mouth to answer him because, as soon as the sentence was over, those fingers began scribbling on the senseless, ticklish spot that was his inner elbow, nails scraping and fingertips tapping in an absurdly light and soft manner, making a muffled ‘eee’ sound to be present in the back of his throat.

He remembered that he had an answer to give.

“Nuh huh.” He shook his head twice, holding his breath to not let any other reaction escape.

“Ok.”

Eventually, Pac had to look away from him again. He could almost feel how Cellbit kept mapping out the exact points where his smile got bigger and his arm squirmed everytime another unexpected tickle spot was found so he could come back to it later. The tapping continued its way across his biceps, drawing abstract forms on it, taking its sweet to collect all the muffled titters and small twitches before going to the next one. With each step the curious hand got closer and closer to his torso.

His attempt to not look at his demise proved to be fool and only made him lose the way that the investigator’s smirk grew wider at each one of his reactions, fingers momentarily spasming in a desire to dig - quick, ruthless and precise - on any and every ticklish spot again and again and again until he could rip that sweet, precious laughter from his stubborn friend-prey-Pac-fun and make it ring loud and free around the room. Until his protests were so intertwined with snickers and snorts that they would be too lost and make no sense at all. Until he was so high in laughter and giddy with the tickling that he wouldn’t even be able to think about hiding his smile and blush - which, by the way, had already begun consuming his neck in a lovely, lovely way - on his hoodie as usual.

He wanted to discover every sound that he would make and drink on every variation of his laughter, from the lowest chortle to the highest squeal. And, especially, he wanted to purr and tease him about how, even with all the chances, Pac didn’t even try to move his free hand to stop him and was instead watching his every move with those wide excited, joyful eyes.

But no. Cellbit needs to be patient. He needs to first cultivate every giggle, snicker and titter until they were too strong to be stopped and then, after weakening his every barrier so they would finally crumble at the lightest breeze and finally come tumbling down with just the hint of his moving fingers anywhere near him and his ticklish - so, so wonderfully vulnerable and ticklish - spots.

Cellbit could be really good at that. Being patient. Stalking. Watching. Finding openings that could be explored.

(It has been a while since he and Pac had time to play like this.)

The traces and drawed forms continued until he got to his armpit and rested there. Tapping. Tapping. Tapping.

At this point Pac already felt like jumping out of his skin at every touch. He was torn between watching his slow and inevitable destruction or closing his eyes and then be bombarded by his own creative mind about all the different ways that his friend could tickle him right now. How he could simply give up from calmly teasing and prying his puffed squeaks or bitten gasps at any moment and just drum his fingers on his pit, maybe pull a surprise attack to his ribs or even keep the slow spidering until Pac felt so ticklish that a single wiggling finger would make him descend in immediate full belly laughter with minimal effort.

Cellbit’s next words were fast to pull him from his thoughts.

“Where is your worst spot, Pac?”

It was getting old, but once again Pac just shook his head.

“What? You don’t have one? Or you don’t want to tell me where is it?” The hands started swirling, creating spirals that went from the inside to the outside of his armpit. Cellbit watched in true amazement how such a soft touch made the other’s cheeks puff with the amount of squeals he was holding, his arm now trembling in his grip. “You know… I’m feeling like you’re hiding a few secrets from me. Are you, Pac?”

It took every single ounce of will from him, but the scientist pushed every and any giggle deep down so he would not look completely silly when the sentence left out his mouth, not really thinking too much about it.

“Aren’t you our Favela’s detective? Why don’t you find out?”

Cellbit froze, just like Pac’s breath when he realized what he just said.

However, it was too late.

“I am joking! I am joking!” He shouted, watching with a wide stare as the other chuckled in delight at his answer. Low and dangerous. Always ready for a good, fun challenge. “You know how it is! Dumb Pac just being dumb again!”

“You’re not dumb.” Cellbit frowned, but it disappeared as soon as it came, a determined, amused expression taking over his face once again. “That’s fair enough, I think. So, what about we make a deal? I will discover your worst tickle spot and then destroy it with tickles until you give me the code to finish my puzzle.”

The swirling was back once again. Soft, unbearable, light and impossible to ignore.

“Deal?”

“...Deal.”

The detective rolled his shoulders and neck, as if preparing for a battle. “Perfect.”

A quick, small tweak on his armpit ripped a surprised snort from his mouth, which immediately made the scientist’s free hand fly to hide it, not expecting the sudden tickling nor the sound.

“Careful there, bonitinho. Don’t go spilling everything already. I would hate for our game to end so soon.”

His hand went back to spidering, teasing the armpit for a few more seconds before going down to his ribs, scratching and watching as Pac turned his face around, pressing it firmly on his own shoulder, the blush fastly consuming more and more of him.

There was this horrible spot in that space between his back and ribs. Mike found it when they were kids and Pac didn’t know why, but it tickled like hell, so, in the very second that Cellbit’s fingers did as much as faintly graze it, his body immediately rolled away in an attempt to hide it.

Cellbit’s eyes shone and he wormed his hand between the cushions and his torso, legs firmly preventing him from trying to roll even more as curious pokes assaulted the spot, making him arch his back and trash back to the other side, shoulders bouncing with trapped laughter. This didn’t stop the investigator from scribbling closely by the spot, no longer prodding or actually tickling it, just testing his reactions by tracing his nails carefully around and in an X over it. As if he was marking it for future reference.

“One.”

The way that the whisper echoed in Pac’s mind did not resonate with how calmly and low it was said. Before he could think too much about its meaning, however, another question quickly followed it.

“Do you know how many ribs there are in the human body?”

The scientist, a very skilled profissional able to create the wildest substances and built the craziest buildings, actually blamed how giddy and distracted by the tickling he was for his answer.

“Twelve!”

“Pffft!”

The investigator’s surprised wheeze filled the room and suddenly Pac knew that he would never be able to live this down for the next years, Cellbit’s entire face opening in a feral joy as if Pac just gave him an early birthday gift.

“Exactly. That is the correct answer. Twelve.” He replied, clearly trying to not laugh and putting on a serious face, again. He let go of his wrist. “Why don’t we count it together now, so we can confirm how right you are?”

Before Pac could answer, Cellbit pressed his fingers, two in each side, on his highest ribs and tased.

Maybe it was the teasing. Maybe it was how much sensitive his skin felt after so many minutes of light touches and soft tickles or how the sudden series of ticklish shocks ran fastly across his every nerve. Maybe it was the way his entire torso now seemed to be just one giant tickle spot. However, that move made Pac slam his hands to hold on Cellbit’s shoulders so his arms wouldn’t come and pin the attacking, tickly fingers against his body.

That only made Cellbit double his efforts to make him laugh, teases immediately permating Pac’s mind.

“Afraid of trapping my fingers here, bonitinho? Why? You’re not even really trying to stop me. Don’t you want them to keep tickling and tickling and tickling your ribs? Right in that delicious spot right here?” Cellbit pressed, buzzing taking over his senses and filling his lungs with uncontrollable crackles that made his torso shake with the force to contain them, wiggling non stop from one side to another and legs flailing around, all which only seemed to reinforce Cellbit’s determination.

“No way! Is it really that ticklish, Pac? Tell me, is my hunt already over, huh? Did I already find your worst ticklish spot or are you just pretending to stop me from going looking for more? I wonder if all the other spots will be as bad as this one… But that is fine. It only means that we will have to stay here for hours and hours, experimenting and comparing every single one of them until we can finally decide which one is the worst. Unless you decide to tell me. That will make things go so much faster, don’t you think?”

He went to his next rib, giving it the same amount of attention and care as the previous one, scratches pursuing the entirety of the bone, tasing targeting the spaces in between them, quick scribbles concentrating on the places that made his kick his legs harder in a way to expel all the adrenaline racing across his cells, tiny squeals pushing against his lips with fervor.

“Or maybe you’re just that ticklish. A ticklish, little gigglebug. So, so sensitive and yet you still came and walked so wingfully right to my… claws.” The last part came out as an almost whisper, his sentence growing lower and lower to the end.

Pac didn’t mean to, but in that moment Cellbit jumped to his third rib and his barrier broke. Loud, crackling laughter exploding from his mouth in a melody that took over the entire room in the very same second, drowning every other sound and making Cellbit almost lose his concentration, tickling faltering for half moment as he was hit with… everything.

With how big Pac’s smile was and how his blush seemed to climb over his neck and ears to pool on his face, how he threw his head backwards when he laughed and the fact that he was actually right because the scientist was too concentrated on the tickle attack and on keeping his hands locked on his shoulder that, for once, he didn’t even try to cover his face.

Cellbit felt himself in a kind of a daze as he kept tickling his loud-friend-prey-fun-fun-fun! Each spot receiving all the scribbling and buzzing before he jumped to another, watching as Pac grew crazier and crazier with each second.

His laughter didn’t necessarily get louder, but it took a turn from the wheezy, high pitched, hysterical crackles on the highest ribs to a much more uncontrollable giggling the lower he went.

Pac squirmed and arched his back, a move that only managed to give Cellbit much more places to work with. He successfully got a few snorts and squeals when that happened and he took the opportunity to worm his hands under his black shirt and spider them on his lower back, making the scientist slam his back again on the couch and bring the tickling back to his ribs, which would then make him kick and wiggle again until another chance to attack his back would appear and Cellbit would gladly take it.

And he. kept. his hands. on his shoulders.

It took everything from him, Pac was sure, but he kept his grip firm, his mind being totally taken over by how much it tickled and everything else all at once. The dance and wiggling happening across his torso, the smug smirk on Cellbit’s face, the awe that took over his brown eyes when he began laughing, the prickle of heat on his warm cheeks and even the light touch of his own hair on his neck that kept sending silly, funny tingles through his nerves to his soul, leading the giggles to get giddier and his snickers to become more present in his laughter.

When the detective got to his lower ribs, light pinching and then drumming his fingers there, between the unintelligible words that fell like waterfall from his lips Pac was able to push a single giggly plea amidst his senseless protests.

“Cellbit!”

The other immediately froze. Pac took the opportunity to take big gulps of air, trying and failing in not succumbing into more laughing fits during the process.

At the second time that the scientist tried for the second to recompose himself and fell into more giggling Cellbit’s fingers twitched, wanting to make that sound ring once more across the room. Still, he didn’t go back to tickling him, aware that his friend indeed was a common human who needed plenty of oxygen to survive.

He blinked and realized that his own grin was almost as big as his prey- Pac. As Pac’s grin was.

(He didn’t run away. He didn’t stop him. He didn’t fight back. Or shouted. Or hated him. He just laughed and laughed and laughed and Cellbit was the main reason for that. For that smile. Those excited eyes watching him right now. The joy. Even if it was a bit artificial, he was the one who did it.)

(He wasn’t quite sure what he would be able to do just to listen to his name being laughed out loud as this again.)

(He was… happy.)

Pac startled when another sound followed the last of his dying giggles. It was a low, almost inaudible, rumbling purr which, if it wasn’t the light feeling of trembling on Cellbit’s shoulders, he would never ever realize that it was coming from his friend.

Before his brain could properly process this and then conjure a proper comment that could or not be a poke of fun - discreet enough that it wouldn’t be clear if he actually was talking about Cellbit’s feline traits or something else, - the detective voice cut the silence.

“Puts, would you look at that.” The feeling of the fingers crawling right back the top of his ribcage made him chortle and squirm, the tip of his fingers barely scraping his armpits. “I lost the count. Seems like we will have to start all over again, Pac. I need to keep up my part of the deal, afterall.”

“Espera!” (Wait!)

“One, two, three…”

He didn’t even try to stop his laughter this time, letting it fall from his lips freely. By the moment the counting ended he was already hysterically giggling just with the feeling of the other’s hands resting on his sides without moving, thumbs rubbing firm circles on his skin in a comforting manner that both made him want to melt and also kept a couple of stray snickers filling the air with the phantom tickles as he once again calmed down.

Pac stared at Cellbit’s brown eyes. There was something different there. Like, literally. But he couldn’t exactly purpoint what.

“Two.”

Another whisper.

Pac tensed, expecting another round of ‘counting your ribs’, although this time in an anatomically correct friendly version (how they got to the result that twelve was the actual correct answer a few seconds ago was a complete mystery to him since he was clearly very occupied dying in crackles) but the thumbs continued with their soft ministrations until he was back to melting, a low huff of laughter (and purring, however it seems like they’re both pretending to ignore that) leaving Cellbit’s mouth.

His fingertips began scribbling on the spot, fingers sometimes slipping under his shirt to scratch at the dip of his hips or on his trembling belly, making sharp intakes of breath to take over him as the scientist let go of the other’s shoulders to muffle his reactions, covering his face entirely.

“Just laugh already, Pac. We both know you want to.”

Cellbit began poking his sides, realizing that there was a lovely weak spot extremely close to his back that made Pac yelp and jump when he passed through it. So he took his sweet time to explore it, watching as a single poke on his right would make him trash to the left, where clawing fingers would be ready to excitedly squeeze his unprotected side over and over and over again until Pac eventually was able to squirm out of it and come right back to the soft, unbearable tickling of his other hand. His reactions dropped from kicking to shaking his head in protest as he kept holding all his titters and laughter inside, each second getting closer to break.

It was fine, though, Cellbit could wait.

Even so, he squinted his eyes at the other’s covered face, being prived from watching the moments when his mouth would become a straight line as he discovered a new tickly spot or how his eyes would instinctively close when his laughter grew stronger or how his smile increased when Cellbit would unexpectedly changed techniques, analyzing which one brought better results. The detective huffed in annoyment - Roier would call it pouting, but he wasn’t here so he was wrong - and added some more tweaks on Pac’s sides in protest, sulking way less when more and more muffled squeaks began appearing with each second.

He didn’t want to exactly pry Pac’s hands from where they were, especially because he would have to stop his attack for that and there just would be no fun in that. His prey-friend-family-joy was so, so close to laughing it out.

Although…

Having his eyes covered could prove to be a good opportunity for a surprise.

Cellbit began lowering his head, getting closer to the other’s extremely red ear, being careful to not let his beard tickle his neck - not yet, at least - to not alarm Pac of his plan. He made sure his voice had the lowest and roughest tune that he could make, letting his breath hit the skin freely.

“There is no reason for you to hold back your reactions like this from me, gigglebug. Besides, I mean, I thought we both felt the same about prisons and keeping stuff trapped, don’t we?”

Pac, honest to god, shrieked when he not only heard but actually felt how close Cellbit was, scrunching his neck in an attempt to make the buzzing tingles disappear, unsuccessfully.

“Well, then I guess I have no other option if you’re just going to try to keep all your snorts and hysterical snickers stuck inside when they should be free to rummage around. What is that phrase you and Mike are always saying, again?”

Pac finally gave up from trying to stop the other from talking so close to his ear and let go of his face to push him away, shiny eyes opening to stare at the huge, smug smirk on the detective’s face.

He didn’t know exactly why until a movement caught his gaze.

Cellbit’s hand was hovering right above him, slowly clawing as it lowered in the direction of his quivering belly. Senseless protests and pleas began stumbling in flocks from him, the scientist attempting with all his might to suck in his stomach so he wouldn’t immediately and ultimately die and still hold his giggles as much as he could.

“Wait, I remember, now!” The hand dug on his belly. “There is no impossible escape.”

Screeching laughter filled the entire space and seemed to only fuel’s the tickling more, Cellbit’s other hand joining the fun to drum on every single patch of skin available, scratching and poking fingers immediately unlocking all loud snorts and chortles as they unmercifully prodded and wiggled inside his bellybutton, adding even more to his laughter.

“There we are, bonitinho!” Cellbit’s happy shout probably held far too much pride for someone who managed to win such a childish challenge. But he didn’t care, immediately drinking the other’s reactions and comparing how different was Pac’s laughter when he tickled his belly - lower, less hysterical but seemingly stronger - from when he decided to shove his hands on his armpits and dig - higher, fast and wheezy. How his fast kicking became a dance of squirming when he went from his ribcage to his sides and how much relaxed the grip on his shoulders became - even if his face got much redder - when he went right back at attacking his neck and elbows with light scribbles. Or even how he instinctively descended into a silent laughter, full of hiccups and squeaks, everytime Cellbit targeted one of the sweet spots he mapped on his torso.

“Which one tickles more, Pac? When I attack your absurdly ticklish armpits” To help him to choose, Cellbit decided to demonstrate his question and scribble said spot, making Pac’s arms immediately slam down and a snickering fit to take place. “Or your very sensitive belly?” His adjectives were promptly proven true when he began clawing his stomach, inspiring more melodious laughter to appear.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!”

The other chuckled.

“You don’t know? Well, I’m sure you will be able to figure it out, eventually.” He lowered his head again, no longer stopping his beard from tickling the poor unprotected neck. A squeal was ripped from Pac’s throat and another attempt to hide his ear by squeezing it on his own shoulder was made. It only made the detective change from side to side, though, having way too much fun to be so easily dissuaded. “Don’t worry about it, though, we can stay here for as long as you want. For hours and hours, if needed, testing every spot, every technique, every tease until you can finally decide.”

Pac shook his head and let out some more senseless pleas in protest, too lost in his own laughter to even begin to properly respond. He rolled to his side, forcing Cellbit to go back to an upwards position, not without purposely rubbing his beard behind his ears and neck, and for a moment his lips parted, preparing to-

(No.)

With all the squirming his loose shirt moved enough to show some skin and Cellbit didn’t really think too much before skittering his fingers on the patch of his back again.

Pac yelped and slammed back on the cushions, quickly turning around and holding, a childlike, high pitched giggling flying freely from his lips.

Cellbit immediately froze.

(He didn’t try to stop him until now.)

“Wait, wait, Cellbit!”

The sentence was left incomplete as Pac snickered, bringing his hands (him) closer to his chest, still giggling even if the tickling had already stopped, eyes closed and smile going from one ear to another.

He looked relaxed. Content.

Cellbit furrowed his eyebrows. He already discovered the answer for his part of the deal. Pac’s worst spot was clear as any white shirt washed with a good dose of peroxide after a hard day, but there had been little funny details in his friend’s actions that pointed directly to one direction. That last reaction being his main hint.

Oh.

Cellbit gets it, now.

“Your worst spot isn’t your favorite one, right? That’s your back.”

Wide, expectant and excited, black eyes found his and something clicked just right in Cellbit’s brain. A predatory grin suppressed his previous thoughtful expression.

Pac didn’t deny it.

They were still in the game.

Pac was just so fun.

“Pac, Pac, Pac…” He tsks. “So you were actually hiding stuff from me.”

Easily freeing his hands from the loose grip, Cellbit observed as the scientist automatically began losing himself in sniggers, not even batting an eye when uncoordinated hands tried to grab his wrists again. He had an idea.

Pac yelped when two strong arms came and hugged him, all his protests coming to a halt with the sudden mix of soft embrace and firm restrain, leaving him frozen in confusion. The cushion at his side dipped as Cellbit put his weight on it and even if Pac’s brain began running a mile per hour he couldn’t get what his plan was here.

With a swift turn Cellbit lifted him from the sofa and rolled, his moves fast and precise - even if still a little clumsy, by the way that the detective let out a ‘oof’ sound when they fell back on the cushions and he hit the furniture, - successfully exchanging his position with Pac and, which is even more remarkable as the fingers that lightly pressed on the lovely space between his shoulderblades reminded him: leaving his entire back unprotected and open for any kind of silly, tickly attack.

“Gotcha, gigglebug.”

One hand began quickly scratching his neck as the other one skittered across his spine, wiggling on every bone until it reached his lower back, pinches, scribbles and scratches joyfully attacking the sensitive spot, exploring every part of it and immediately making his giggling grow up to a notch.

Pac shoved his face on the other’s neck, shoulders bouncing with each laughter as tiny sparks of electricity seemed to follow every one of Cellbit’s touches as they tickled and teased every and any available spot of his back, successfully trapping him in a mix of childlike, high pitched laughter and wheezy chuckles. It was a little maddening how all his muscles seemed to relax with the soft tickles as his fingertips lightly ran across his back only to instantly jump with jolts and surprised squeaks as a sudden poke or tazing was delivered right on the back of his ribs or on in between shoulderblades, increasing his laughter and pulling more and more snorts for a few seconds, just when the comforting touch would to come and take over again.

It was the most amazing, unbearable, awful, joyful trap he could imagine. Being locked on Cellbit’s firm yet gentle embrace, adrenaline running hot on his veins as the feeling of safe but in danger made all the sirens in his mind scream and a warm feeling of trust to pool into his soul. The way that he was unable to actively defend his favorite spot - how did Cellbit even discover it so quickly? - without giving his friend free access to more other places he could attck, but also knowing that just holding his hands would immediately stop him made Pac let himself go and giggle and snicker hysterically non stop.

Not to mention the literal feeling of the motor-like purr that was still present and also seemed to tickle him, his skin still feeling way too ticklish for all that buzzing. Especially since it seemed to only grow stronger every time that a special prodding on the base of his or a spidering on his upper back made him hug the detective closer.

Besides, Pac didn’t quite realize it, but with every hug he pressed his face more and more on Cellbit’s neck, his huffs and puffs of laughter resulting in shivers and wobbly smiles to escape from the detective as well.

They kept up that song and dance for a few more minutes until Cellbit got content after fishing all the wheezes, snorts, squeals and laughter he had stored, settling to massaging the nape of his neck as he calmed down. Still delivering one or two soft scribbles on the back of his ears from time to time to prevent him from falling asleep on top of him. Cellbit is still a very happily married man, afterall.

“Still alive there, dude?”

No answer. Cellbit began blinking quickly, suddenly realizing that the room seemed much more illuminated and detailed than when he first walked in, his mind instantly going back to focus on the enigma he was after now that the chase-hunt-play was over.

I mean, their deal.

(Where did that come from?)

“What is the code?”

Silence.

“Pac?”

Said one lifted himself from the hug, a giant smile on his face and a few unshed tears glistering in the corner of his eyes.

He suddenly wheezed when their eyes found each other, not expecting at all to see the full blown wide cat pupils staring right back at him.

The confused expression on Cellbit’s face only grew bigger as he continued to blink non stop, probably bothered by the light.

“Pfffff, me dá uns minutinhos aí, moço. A cat just got my tongue.” (Give me a few more minutes, bro.)

And then he immediately jumped away from the couch before the meaning of his words could fully sink in the other’s brain. He felt way too giddy after all the fun and playful tickles, with wobbly steps and gleeful chuckles twirling in the air.

“Pactw…” The underlying warning in his tone - together with a hunt-warn-catch thrill and, oh. my. god. Pac needed to tell this to the others like right now - made Pac yelp and hold his hands in rendition, lowering himself in what could be a preparation to run away or an attempt to look smaller.

“40028922!”

Cellbit kept staring at him, squinted eyes analyzing his every move and expression as usual. Sometimes Pac wondered what he found when he did this.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not! That is really the code and by the way I don’t have anything to do with it! They just told me to keep it.” As the other continued to look at him in disbelief, he started doing the orange justice dance, singing. “40028922 é o funk do Yudi que vai dar Playstation 2.” (40028922, it’s Yudi’s funk that will give you a Playstation 2)

Eventually, the detective got up from the couch and walked to the door, putting the numbers and watching it with one trembling eyebrow as the door opened effortlessly. He pinched his nose bridge with a groan and an amused huff. Knowing his luck, Cellbit should’ve expected something like that.

However, he quickly straightened his posture, combing his hair with his fingers and adjusting his coat. That was it. The last piece of the puzzle. The final level. He had no more time for playing around.

“Ok. Thank you very much for your cooperation and… trust, Pac. I appreciate it a lot. We make a good team when we work together.” He hesitated before stepping forward and didn’t quite look back, but Pac could feel those piercing brown eyes on him. “I know we were just joking but…You’re a good ally. You and Mike both. Hope we can keep fighting side by side in the future.”

“Y-yeah, of course! The Favela sticks together forever, right?”

“...Yes. We’re family. That is what we do.” Cellbit nodded and Pac mirrored him, even if the other was already getting inside the other room.

That was cool.

Dramatic.

But cool.

Pac was in the middle of sending Roier a message saying that Cellbit was heading in his direction when a thought went right through his brain, making him freeze.

“Wait.” He said out loud, looking behind to face the robot green rats that always followed him and Mike around. “Mike told him that this was like Roier’s idea and not some enigma left by the Federation, yeah?”

He began biting his nails, thinking about all the steps and parties involved in this surprise that Roier wanted to give to his husband as a gift. He wasn’t the only one invited to participate in it. Mike, Bagi, Philza, Baghera, Badboyhalo… “I mean, someone must have warned him, right?”

The rat shrugged.

Pac snorted, hand flying to his mouth before his wheezes could catch his friend’s attention and make him come back, quickly getting out of the place before Cellbit realized what he was really walking into.

(In the distance, he was almost sure that he heard a surprised shout followed by one laughter that, at this point, he already knew very well. But sometimes a good gossiper needs to know when to die for a fofoca and when to run away with half of it.)

(He needed to go tell everything to Fit first, afterall.)

[~*~] Fun facts!

The first part with Pac and Mike is inspirated in that bit they have going on where Pac mimics Mike's accent and in turn Mike makes it thicker and talks faster and they just keep it going on! They also use it when they want to do something illegal (like escape from the prision on the latest event) so the translator won't catch exactly what they're saying

40028922 is a very known number in Brazil because it was a phone number used to participate in a kid TV Show and one of the hosts had this jingle where he would sing song it and say that you would get a Playstation 2. It's so known that using it as a secret code it's a bit like... rick rolling the person.

It's not made very clear but this is kind of inspired by @squeaky-n-blushy 's tags on my guapoduo tickle hc and Cellbit is actually walking directly to the end of a puzzle made by Roier as a gift where his prize are tickles :D Yay!!

#Cellbit: I am the master of the teases and antecipation I am ruthless I have no mercy I am unstoppable #Pac: a// Cellbit: Friend is uncomfortable? Friend want me to stop?? Friend is sad??? *sad wet cat noises*#I tried to make this a bit out of my comfort zone! :D With plenty of teases and antecipation and took a while to write but I am very happy!#You can see this as romantic but honestly I think they have something much weirder going on #qsmp tickles #qsmp tickling #Ticklish!Pac #Ler!Cellbit #I regret nothing #I wanted to make the dialogue in portuguese on the tickle part too but I would've died fr fr #Sarcastic and acid Pac lives rent free in my mind I mean did you see the prank he and Mike did to Foolish to get him back about the prison?#Crazy stuff for real for real xD #Kanene's fanfic #Kanene's fic

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