#Santa Switch

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Santa Switch (2013) - Donovan Scott

[jimhenson-themuppetmaster]

Halloween is our favorite time of year. Here's Jim Henson with Lothar from the Great Santa Claus Switch in Jim's workshop office, 1972

[a-ragtag-gang-of-raggamuffins]

am i the only one who starts crying when the music slows to santa fe during newsies curtain call?

[theoncelee]

Squealing Santa Submission!!

I’ve had this done for a bit, but figured I’d post it on Christmas Day because why not?

Hi! @blueberrygiggles I’m your Squealing Santa this year!! Thank you @hypahticklish for orchestrating! I really can’t be trusted with winter holiday themed things can I? Yes, I wrote about both Chanukkah and Christmas, again. Listen I just can’t pick, ok? They’re both too fun. Hope that’s ok 😅

Also I made a lil visual aid it’s just flat colors but:

Fandom: MHA

Ship: KiriBaku (Romantic)

Warnings: Light swearing and capital text. Other than that nothing this is super fluffy ^-^

Summary: AU where Kirishima celebrates Christmas and Bakugou celebrates Chanukkah. Kirishima and Bakugou are enjoying a lazy day chilling in Bakugou’s dorm room. The topic of which winter holiday, Christmas or Chanukkah, is better comes up. Playful tickling ensues 😈. Later, when lying in bed, Kirishima takes his sweet, soft, revenge.

Bakugou and Kirishima were just chilling in Bakugou’s dorm room, shooting the shit.

“I’m just saying, Christmas is the best holiday. I mean, come ON. Lights, cookies, and best of all, MAGIC. Chanukkah has NOTHING on THAT” Kirishima argued playfully.

“Nothing you say? Chanukkah has latkes, fire and gambling. That beats some fatass in a stupid suit any day of the week” Bakugou replied.

“Gambling?” Kirishima questioned.

“The fuck do you think dreidel is, shitty hair?”

Kirishima burst into loud laughter at that.

“DREIDEL? PFFT ihit doehoesn’t cohount if ihit’s chohocolahahate”

“Alright, pack it up gaylord before I give your something to laugh about” Bakugou shot back.

“You say as if you aren’t the biggest gigglemonster in Class 1A, Bakubro.” Kirishima teased with his signature shark-toothed grin and a wiggle of his fingers.

“Speak for yourself, sir laughs-a-lot” Bakugou retorted with an indignant huff.

“Aww that was cute. I’m tickled”

“You will be if you don’t watch your attitude”

“Says you, giggles” Kirishima replied, accentuating the statement with a quick poke to Bakugou’s side, causing the fiery blond to bite down on his lower lip.

“That’s rich coming from you, flinch-meister” Bakugou easily returned, tasing kirishima in the ribs, resulting in a dramatic flinch and a sharp gasp.

“Oh yeah? Well, too bad you’re too slow to catch me.”

And with that Kirishima took off running out of Bakugou’s dorm room and towards the common room in a blind fit of nervous energy, giggles already threatening to bubble up and out of his throat. Bakugou was hot on his trail, fighting a grin of his own (he DID have a reputation, you know). The two quickly found themselves in the common room, facing each other from opposite ends of the couch, swerving to try and fake the other out. Though they tried to look serious, no one could mistake the excitement and playfulness dancing in their eyes. Finally tiring of the back and forth game, Bakugou leapt across the entire couch, flying into Kirishima and barreling them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Bakugou scrambled to straddle Kirishima.

“Nooo dohohon’t”

“Don’t what, shitty hair?”

“Tihickle mehe”

Before Kirishima ever realized the trap he’d fallen into, Bakugou shoved his hands up his boyfriend’s shirt and scratched at Bakugou’s toned stomach.

“AIIIIIIIIEHAHAHA BAHAKUHUBROHOHO”

“Yes love?”

“AHAHAHAA”

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand you sweetheart”

“NAAAAAHAHAHA DOHOHON’T” “AHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP”

“Don’t stop? Well, if you insist”

“NOHOHOHO IHIHI AAHAHAHA”

“Just shut up and laugh, shitty hair”

With that Bakugou squeezed his hands into Kirishima’s underarms. And Kirishima did indeed “shut up and laugh” considering he could no longer get a single word out through his laughter. Sensing his boyfriend was reaching his limit, Bakugou moved on to his grand finale, Kirishima’s ribs. He found the rib 3 from the bottom on the left, the one he KNEW Kirishima couldn’t stand, and dug in with scratching, vibrating fingers. The reaction was immediate.

“AAAAAIIIIII…………AHAHAHA………AH………NAHAHHHH……MEHE…..HERHEE….CEEEEE”

That last scream sounded suspiciously like “Mercy”, so Bakugou slowed his tickling down to just gentle tracing, keeping Kirishima in light giggles before rolling off him to get him some much needed water. Kirishima just closed his eyes and smiled, feeling significantly happier than he had before.

Later that night, Kirishima and Bakugou were cuddled up in Kirishima’s cramped bed, the tips of their noses practically touching as they easily shared whispers and hushed laughter between them. Wide smiles tugging hard at their cheeks, stray hands roaming, blushes deepening. All it took was one stray finger brushing against Bakugou’s side where it met his back, causing Bakugou to let out a small yelp and Kirishima to raise an eyebrow, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Oh? What’s that I hear? Is that…an opportunity for revenge?” Kirishima wasted no time grabbing Bakugou’s waist, flipping him over and pulling Bakugou’s back into his own chest. Firmly securing Bakugou against him with one arm, Kiri used his free hand to skitter his fingers all over Bakugou’s tummy, causing the sweetest, most out of character giggles to spill from the blondes lips without restraint. Normally he was able to resist such light tickles, but it was late and he was too tired to try or care. Soft, easy laughter bubbled up from his core and poured out of his mouth without protest as he threw his head back on Kirishima’s shoulder and grabbed desperately at his hands, despite putting no force into actually pushing them away. Naturally, Kirishima noticed.

“Aww is the super manly King Explosion Murder not strong enough to push me off? Or is he having too much fun to even try?” Bakugou could only shake his head and giggle in response. Because he WAS having fun. It felt good, to laugh like this. To be tickled and teased and so thoroughly messed with. It felt good to know that someone cared about, no, LOVED him enough to want to fuck with him like this. He kept up a tough facade, and he was slow to trust, but with Kirishima he felt SAFE and LOVED. And he knew he could love THIS, with HIM, without judgement. And GOD it felt good. He let his giggles grow without resistance, reveling in the feeling of laughter and being teased like this.

“Careful, love. Don’t wake our classmates” Kirishima chucked directly into Bakugou’s ear, careful to make sure his breath alone tickled.

Seeming to have forgotten they weren’t entirely alone, Bakugou quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, attempting to muffle the sweet giggles he couldn’t even attempt to stop from streaming out of him. That’s when he felt treacherous fingers slip under his thin sleep shirt, the scribbling on his bare skin somehow WORLDS better worse. Kirishimas delicate fingers scratched and scraped at Bakugou’s soft skin, occasionally digging into the toned muscle underneath. They were like spiders, softly reeling in their prey for the taking. And Kirishima, that godsend asshole, was definitely taking. Kirishima’s dangerous hands traveled up and down Bakugou’s torso, tickling from his hips all the way to the top of his ribs, occasionally even dipping into his underarms. Bakugou grabbed a nearby pillow and threw his face into it in a desperate attempt to muffle his soft laughter. When he felt one devious finger swirl into his navel, he felt himself double over in a failed attempt to curl up, still held firm in Kirishima’s embrace. His mind was alight with the buzz of nothingness, unable to comprehend anything besides the feeling of Kirishima against his back, the safe arm around his waist, and the gentle tickles crawling over every inch of skin they could reach. Sensing his boyfriend was reaching his limit, Kirishima slowed his tickles down until he was just gently rubbing away all the ghost tickles, before pulling Bakugou even further into him, carding his fingers through Bakugou’s hair, and whispering sweet praises in his ear. He kept this up until Bakugou drifted off to sleep, cheeks still dusted pink and a soft smile still tugging at his lips, body still curled around Kirishima’s arm. Kirishima himself wasn’t awake to enjoy the sight for much longer.

[forsssnaken]

Aziraphale's Literary Discovery

Important note: I am no longer writing stuff like this. It was a nice way for me to be happy while in a rather precarious mental state, but I no longer enjoy it all the same way I once did. I'm keeping it up as it was a gift, and there are still people who may enjoy it, but I am unhappy with my writing how it was in this fic, and I don't enjoy writing this stuff anymore. I still write good omens fanfics now, if you want to give me a chance there.

THIS. IS. A. TICKLING. FIC. COMPLETELY. SFW.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS @practickles!!! I am your squealing santa this year :)) I hope this is everything you hoped for and more!! (and now i can follow you without being worried that i'll blow my cover lol)

@squealing-santa

screw canon(/j), they are happy together and have tickles.

switch!aziraphale, switch!crowley.

cw: light mentions of alcohol/sobering up magically, cursing (because it's Crowley), using a miracle to pin someone that could be read as invisible bondage.

Aziraphale turned a page in his book, but wasn't really reading anymore. This had been happening more and more often: he would stop reading just to think about the demon who was currently asleep on his couch.

Aziraphale and Crowley had finished off some good wine last night, and instead of sobering up, Crowley had decided to sleep it off on the bookshop's couch. The angel had sobered up, reading all through the night with the occasional glance to the demon's sleeping form.

Honestly, Aziraphale prefers Crowley awake. He loves the demon's antics and being able to spend time together (although the serenity and calmness radiating off the demon's lanky form was delightful). He didn't technically need to breathe, but he did -- soft deep breaths that were almost soft snores.

Aziraphale quickly snapped himself out of the trance he had been in, staring at his friend(?), and glancing back at the book. It was a sweet romcom, one that left Aziraphale feeling giddy and with butterflies in his stomach. The couple in his book were playful, and in the current scene, were poking each other and giggling. This was a fascinating idea that humans called "tickling", which led to supposedly uncontrollable laughter and seemed like a sweet bonding exercise.

Something clicked in his mind and he looked back at Crowley asleep on the couch, limbs splayed out haphazardly. His tight-fitting shirt had risen a little, leaving a sliver of the pale skin of his lower stomach on display. Aziraphale gasped excitedly, looking back at his book where the tickle fight was happening. Supposedly, even small touches could lead to ticklish sensations!

He stood up, beginning to creep over to the sleeping figure, before realizing that Crowley could sleep through almost anything and walking over normally. The angel stared at him with wide eyes, glancing back and forth between his calm face and the sliver of exposed stomach. He tentatively reached out a finger, poking Crowley's abdomen.

There was a faint reaction, a small breath hitching in between small snores and Crowley squirmed a bit. Was Crowley ticklish?! How silly! How human! What a delightful discovery! He giddily clapped, then began tracing the sliver of exposed skin. Crowley huffed, squirmed, and scrunched up his nose a bit, before rolling over and crossing his arms over his stomach.

Aziraphale was ecstatic at his findings, and couldn't wait to enact something rather devious (by his standards)!

|

|

A few days later, he woke a grumpy Crowley up from his nap (and if Crowley became less grumpy when he noticed that he was covered in a cozy blanket, the angel didn't need to know). Aziraphale had a mission: go on a date -- a Friend Date (he told himself, at least) -- and bring up tickling to him! The angel had an innate need to tickle Crowley now, see his presumably adorable reactions, and have the physical contact that the angel began to crave.

"Come on, Crowley!" Aziraphale grinned, pulling the demon into a seated position by his hand.

Crowley grumbled, "For what?"

Crowley seemed entirely uninterested, but in truth, he loved spending time with Aziraphale and would do anything if Aziraphale truly wanted to spend time with him.

"A picnic!" Aziraphale gestured to a wicker basket stocked full of goodies.

Crowley rolled his eyes (but was truly content with this plan), put his shoes on, and drove them to a gorgeous woodsy park. When they had found their own spot, Aziraphale spread out a blanket on the grass, sat down, and began unpacking some small sandwiches and poured them both a glass of wine.

"Not so much now, my dear boy," He handed Crowley the wine, "I'd like you awake for a little while. It's dreadfully boring being all alone and reading by myself!"

He got nothing but a grunt in return, but everything was perfect, so Aziraphale continued on with his ramblings.

In between bites of his sandwiches, he told Crowley all about the books he had been reading, but especially about the lovely rom-com he had just read.

"They had such a lovely relationship! Human love just excites me so much! They do so many sweet things together, not unlike us!"

"Ngk-" Crowley choked slightly on his wine and turned a bit pink, but Aziraphale didn't seem to notice.

"They certainly touched a lot more than we do, though, Crowley!" The angel pouted.

Crowley shrugged, "We're not having sex."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale's mouth gaped as he gasped, smacking the demon softly on his leg, "Don't say that! They touched plenty without sexual implications!"

Crowley sipped his wine, not needing to respond.

"They cuddled, and kissed, and even- well," Aziraphale cut himself off, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

This now intrigued Crowley, who sat up a bit, and looked at Aziraphale, scooting closer so they were side by side.

He teased Aziraphale, "Oh? Was it sexual then? You realized I was right and you were wrong?"

Aziraphale huffed indignantly, "No! I'm just not sure if you even know what it is!"

Oh, Crowley was so up for a challenge. "I'm sure I would! I know much more about humans than you do."

Aziraphale leaned closer, grinning and placing a hand on the blanket behind Crowley, so they were almost touching. "Oh really?"

Crowley smirked and nodded, taking his sunglasses off and stowing them safely in the picnic basket, so he could look at Aziraphale in the eyes to show him how serious he was.

"Yes, they were tickling each other!" Aziraphale grinned, hoping that Crowley wouldn't know about tickling, so he could teach him.

"Oh, that? How would I not know about that?" Crowley didn't let anything slip, so Aziraphale thought it might be possible that he just didn't know.

"Yes, I think that's quite intimate," Aziraphale reached out and placed a hand on Crowley's knee, "it seems sweet to me!"

Crowley grumbled, avoiding eye contact awkwardly. "What, is this your way of asking me to tickle you?"

Aziraphale stammered, protesting quickly, "Why would I want that?!"

Now it was Crowley's turn to look offended, "There's nothing wrong with wanting that!"

Aziraphale was now slightly grumpy; this wasn't how it was supposed to go!

Crowley had that devilish (albeit attractive) grin across his face, placing a hand on Aziraphale's side.

"This wasn't how this was supposed to goHO-" Aziraphale smacked a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

Crowley, that evil, evil demon, had squeezed Aziraphale's side! What a terrible thing for his corperal form to feel! Aziraphale, in all his planning, could not have anticipated this!

A small smirk crept across Crowley's face as he put the other hand on Aziraphale's clothed side and squeezed a few times in a row.

Aziraphale's hands flew down from his mouth to his sides, weakly pushing at Crowley's hands as he laughed heartily. His smile was beautiful. It was, well, angelic.

Crowley was right. Aziraphale thought this was quite nice. He hadn't laughed this hard in a while, and seeing Crowley's enjoyment of his reactions was amazing!

Crowley smiled widely, skittering his nimble fingers along Aziraphale's gorgeous plush stomach, before refocusing his attention on Aziraphale's thighs. Aziraphale's magnificently scrumptious thighs, currently busy with Aziraphale's frantically kicking feet. Crowley stopped, giving Aziraphale a small break, before placing his hands on those delightful thighs.

Aziraphale was not worried in the slightest; he had never heard of someone's thighs being ticklish, just the usual suspects like the upper body, feet, neck, and hips. But thighs? That seemed silly... until Crowley started squeezing them.

Aziraphale barked out a laugh, falling gently on his back as he was unable to hold himself sitting up. He made noises that were so embarrassing: he even squealed! Crowley was unwavering in his ticklish squeezing, grinning broadly. Aziraphale was laughing harder than he ever had, his head shaking back and forth as he laughed frantically, beginning to push at Crowley's hands again. This was Crowley's cue to slow down, and he moved his hands back up to the angel's stomach to gently trace shapes as Aziraphale recovered.

"Y- you're evil!" Aziraphale gasped, still giggling.

"I'm a demon, that's kind of the whole point," Crowley deadpanned, although unable to wipe the smile off his face.

Aziraphale caught his breath, then grabbed Crowley's hands. Crowley's eyes widened slightly, but he tried to play it off, scoffing.

Aziraphale sat up quickly, pushing Crowley onto his back and pinning him there with shocking strength. Crowley looked at him confused and began squirming awkwardly. Aziraphale had fully sat on his hips, pinning his arms above his head as he leaned over the demon, their faces quite close together.

"What? How did you-" Crowley stammered, baffled by Aziraphale's strength, "What are you doing?"

Aziraphale grinned, excited to give Crowley all the exposition of his plan. "When I was reading that book, I tried tickling you, when you were asleep. I poked you, and you reacted! I have to try it again!"

Crowley blushed a bit, before retorting, "Angel, anyone would react to being poked. I'm not ticklish, I'm a demon. Being ticklish is all- cute and innocent. I'm neither of those things."

"I beg to differ," Aziraphale grinned, slipping his warm hand under Crowley's tight shirt, beginning to trace circles on Crowley's stomach.

Crowley's brain short circuted. Not only was the angel on top of him, but he was touching Crowley more intimately than they'd ever touched. And Crowley did feel something -- was that being ticklish?

Crowley squirmed, averting his eyes from Aziraphale's as he clamped his mouth shut.

Aziraphale, ever so oblivious, was slightly upset that it didn't really effect Crowley like it did when he was asleep. Maybe he was controlling his reactions? Maybe he truly was right and wasn't ticklish!

Aziraphale huffed, "You really reacted the other day, I promise!"

Crowley was trying his best to not react, his serpentine eyes flicking towards Aziraphale's well-manicured hand, still tracing under his shirt.

"Ngk- just give it a rest, angel!" Crowley sputtered, feeling giggles (Yes, giggles! Demons aren't supposed to giggle!) bubbling up in his chest.

Aziraphale was starting to feel a bit hopeless; he thought it would have been incredibly endearing if Crowley was ticklish. The demon barely smiled (not counting his mischievous smirks), and Aziraphale would love to hear him laugh, truly laugh, for the first time in years. Aziraphale pouted and decided to give it one last go.

He poked Crowley in the side.

Crowley gasped, jumped, and made awkward eye contact with the angel on top of him.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, was ecstatic! A giddy smile broke across his face.

"No, angel, no. I was just startled-" Crowley said quickly, squirming.

"Oh my dear Crowley, my dear silly demon..." Aziraphale grinned.

"No angel I-" Crowley couldn't focus on being called Aziraphale's, due to the imminent danger of him being tickled.

Much to his dismay, Aziraphale began ruthlessly skittering his fingers over Crowley's stomach and sides. Damn his fashionable outfits! The shirt he was wearing was incredibly thin and did nothing to protect him from the angel's attack.

Crowley tried to keep his mouth shut and hide his reactions, but his attempts were futile. He burst out into loud laughter and squirmed as much as he could (which wasn't much). It made sense why tickling was used as a torture method in the past; he would have given up any secret that Aziraphale could ask for in this moment! Although, there was something nice about it: the intimacy, the giddy feeling, and Aziraphale's touch gave him a rush of happiness.

"Why are you laughing, my dear boy? Thought of something devious? Scheming?" Aziraphale laughed along with Crowley -- for such a supposedly evil being, he sure had a contagious laugh -- and scribbled his fingers even faster. "Or are you just... ticklish?"

And if Crowley's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, he hoped Aziraphale didn't notice.

"You're- teasing- me!" He sputtered indignantly, through bright, happy laughter.

Aziraphale paused, pretending to look offended, "No I'm not! I'm simply asking questions to figure out why you're laughing so much!"

In the midst of talking, he wasn't paying attention to what his hands were doing. His hands moved down to the hem of Crowley's shirt, causing the demon to jump, eyes wide.

Aziraphale's eyebrow raised quickly, "Oh?"

Crowley shook his head, stammering "No," and tugging on his hands.

As both of them knew, although the angel's corporeal form was strong, Crowley could easily have gotten his arms free by non-human means. Maybe he just didn't want to.

The most devilish grin to ever cross an angels face suddenly appeared on Aziraphale's. He let go of Crowley's arms, but not before preforming a miracle that kept his arms trapped in place, taut above his head.

Crowley's snake-like eyes grew wider as he tugged frantically on his arms, beginning to giggle nervously. His whole 'bad boy' persona was completely gone now, and he was quite enjoying this (though he'd never admit such a silly thing).

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale teased, wiggling his fingers at the squirming demon, "are you prepared for your demise?"

That shut Crowley up.

Until Aziraphale did something truly evil. Something so evil that even the higher-ups in Hell couldn't dream of. He repeatedly squeezed Crowley's hips.

Crowley made the most embarrassing noise possible -- he squealed.

"AAAAZiraphale!!!" He laughed, wiggling as much as possible, "YOU BASSSSTARD!!"

Curse that stupid hissing. Usually he was able to disguise it, whenever Aziraphale caught him off guard with accidental(?) flirting or made a silly joke that a big bad demon like himself shouldn't laugh at. Speaking of laughing, Crowley was laughing more than he ever had in his life.

And it felt amazing. Having his angel so close to him in such an intimate way, literally on top of him. He was able to let his guard down.

The angel gasped, "What did you just call me, my dear boy?!"

Aziraphale skittered his fingers around Crowley's stomach and sides, relishing in the rare and genuine laughter.

Luckily, although neither of them could be sure if it was intentional or not, Aziraphale's miracle that pinned Crowley's hand was slowly faltering. Crowley didn't realize (he was laughing too hard to think about much) until his arms subconsciously snapped down to grab at Aziraphale's hands.

Aziraphale paused his attack, concerned about his friend(?). Crowley looked at him, as his leftover giggles became slightly more devious.

Crowley latched his clawed hands onto Aziraphale's clothed sides and rapidly squeezed, disrupting the power that Aziraphale had held over him, and toppling them both over onto their sides, facing each other.

Aziraphale tickled Crowley back, angelic giggles pouring out of his mouth.

"You- you're such a demon!" He exclaimed through loud laughter.

Crowley nodded, squirming closer to Aziraphale as they tickled each other.

They were practically cuddling as their fingers slowed to tracing each other's abdomens, softly giggling.

Aziraphale stared into Crowley's gorgeous auburn eyes and was struck with a sense of overwhelming love.

Crowley's smile was wider than it should have been from leftover giggles as he watched the angel and his smile and gorgeous face. As if God Herself had heard his thoughts, sunlight struck the angel's face in a certain way where he looked like he was glowing (although he may have been radiating an otherworldly glow from overwhelming happiness).

They stayed there for a while, in each others arms, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

If you made it this far, thank you. Reblogs help writers and artists on tumblr a lot, so consider reblogging if you enjoyed <3. If you'd like, send me an ask if you want to talk about anything (related or unrelated to this fic), as it motivates me to write more.

[who-do-i-know-this-man]

⚠️Vote for whomever YOU DO NOT KNOW⚠️‼️

[gifs-of-puppets]

The Great Santa Claus Switch (1970)

[puppetdaily]

Frackle from The Great Santa Claus Switch

[lmelodie]

Hope everyone's having a good PRIDE MONTH. Shout to: The Gay!

[adobe-outdesign]

I just want everyone to know that there are two muppet characters called Thig and Thog (made for The Great Santa Claus Switch) and they look exactly like what you'd think they should look like

[fluffy-lee-boa]

Squealing Santa 2k23

Of Buddies and Bros (a barbieverse tickle fic)

Fandom: Barbie (2023)

Characters: Ken and Allan

A/N: Hello @sweettallahassee! It is I, your secret santa >:3 I was so excited to get this assignment- The world could definitely use some more Barbie t fics. Especially ones with Allan. I really hope you like it! I saw the words “cheer-up tickles” and was possessed to write way more than I anticipated haha. Happy Holidays!

This was super fun, and I can’t wait to participate again, since this was my first time and now I think I’ve really got a handle on things. Thank you so much to @squealing-santa !!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It had been a good amount of time since Stereotypical Barbie had left Barbie Land altogether, with Allan having become Ken’s closest confidant and friend from there on out. It was a pretty surprising change, and one that took some getting used to, as Allan had been used to being number 3 in a world of couples. But now? Well, it was practically his job to stick by Stereotypical Ken, and help him along his journey in self-discovery. Help him find some sort of identity outside of “Beach” and Barbie.

Unfortunately, Ken was very much still attached to both Beach and Barbie, to the point that it was a real hindrance on any progress being made in that department.

Allan knew it must have been hard for the guy, so he wasn’t annoyed or frustrated. More concerned, really. I mean, even with all the changes that had come to Barbie Land, every Ken still had their Barbie. Every Ken… except for his Ken.

His Ken? Ok, that was a weird thought. Better to just ignore it and move on. Narrations could be tricky sometimes, and he of all people knew that.

But either way! He was here to help. Be a buddy, whatever that meant.

It had been another perfect, beautifully sunny day, one in which Allan had been trying and failing to get Ken out of bed. Ken had begun staying in Stereotypical Barbie’s old place, as it was vacant, and already had quite a lot of Mojo Dojo Casa House decor, including the “manly” fur coat that Ken had draped over himself as a makeshift blanket as he grumbled about being woken up.

“Ken, come on.” Allan sighed, tugging at the end of the coat lightly but firmly, “We already told Pilot Barbie we’d be ready for your skydiving lesson at noon, we can’t miss that, or it’ll throw off our whole schedule. Remember? We even had a quick stop at the beach to try surfing again…!”

Allan had been meticulously planning their days filled to the brim with activities that might lead to Ken finding his true passion. Usually Ken was pretty gung-ho about the whole thing, but today seemed to be an off day. It was probably because yesterday he’d tried acting, and instead of impressing Director Barbie with his stunning talent, he’d ended up really crying for about an hour and they weren’t able to get any good footage out of it.

So here they were, at a stalemate in Barbie’s old bedroom.

Allan considered his option, his mind cycling through possibilities. He could simply rip the fur off of him to force him up, but that sounded harsh, and Ken needed a gentle touch right now.

Wait a minute.

Gentle… touch.

That gave him an idea!

So after a second more of contemplating if the possibility of revenge was worth it, Allan made his first move. He was just lucky enough that Ken’s leg happened to be sticking out from the bed, giving him the perfect opportunity to put his plan into motion. He pushed aside any hesitation and lurched forward, putting the other’s foot in what was essentially a headlock and sitting at the end of the bed.

“Wha- HEY-!” Ken was instantly sitting up, the coat having fallen away to reveal a particularly pink set of pajamas that would have matched with Barbie perfectly had she still been around.

“Sorry, but you wouldn’t get out of bed, so…” Allan shrugged, trying to suppress a smile as he utilized a persuasive skill Barbie Land had only picked up on when they last interacted with the real world- Tickling.

It wasn’t entirely new to them, of course, but the concept of a tickle *fight* was something so novel that it had been on Allan’s mind ever since Barbie had left, and this was as good an excuse as any to start one.

“AH- AhAhAllan! You can’t-!”

“Can’t what, help my buddy cheer up?” Allan teased as he scribbled away at the little divots in between his toes, though before he could say anything further, there was a flurry of movement that was too fast for him to catch in the moment.

When Allan next opened his eyes, he found that Ken was now firmly rested on top of him, holding both his arms above his head in one hand. Curse his stereotypically large and admirable muscles- there was no escaping such a grasp.

“No… I was gonna say you can’t expect me not to fight back,” Ken replied after he’d caught his breath with a more confident smirk this time, his free hand hovering over Allan’s unfortunately unbuttoned beach top menacingly.

“Whoa! Ken, heyyy, we can talk this out!” Allan babbled the moment he realized the predicament he was in, sinking into the softness of the bed below them with a nervous, borderline awkward laugh, “I was just- trying to get you up! And you’re up now! We can go!”

“Mmm. I don’t think that’s gonna work for me,” Ken’s hand was getting dangerously close to his ribs, which made Allan start squirming without him having even touched him yet.

“In fact… You were right, buddy. This is cheering me up already,” Ken added smugly, before his gently clawed his hands back and forth over his lower ribs like he was trying to feel every gap and ridge in his rib cage.

Allan immediately burst into frantic giggles that resembled a bird of paradise making alarm calls- they were by no means graceful or dignified, but there was no arguing it, they were adorable. There was even an interspersing of snorts and yelps that kept things fresh whenever Ken wandered a little lower down to vibrate his fingertips across his barely-visible abs. Speaking of which…

“WAIT NONONONO-!”

Ken’s eyebrows raised when Allan’s protests spiked, and he realized he must be getting close to a goldmine. He kept that same goofy smile, the one he always had when he was proud of himself for figuring something out. If Allan could focus on it, he’d probably melt, but he was too busy being reduced to breathless laughter as he begged for what seemed to be his life.

But what spot exactly might be causing such a reaction?

Well, as Ken was already quite pleased with his deduction skills, he was sure he’d figured it out. So he let his hand drift farther down, lightly tracing a line with the spider-like movement of his fingers to his upper belly. Aaaand Bingo.

“KEHEN!” Allan barked, attempting to fold in on himself like a beach chair.

Ken knew this spot must be the absolute worst for him, so he was careful not to take things too far. He kept his tickles light, and almost teasing, using his perfectly manicured nails to swirls little hearts and star shapes around his belly button, “Yeah, bro?”

Allan simply shook his head, eyes squeezed shut as he dug his heels into the bed as if to dispel some of the nerves. His open-mouthed laughter hadn’t let up much despite the change of pace, and his cheeks were now a bright shade of red. So Ken, being the kind and generous person he was, decided he’d had enough.

He slowed his movement to a stop, letting go of Allan’s wrists so he could prop himself up on his elbows above him with an affectionate smile. He rested his chin on the other’s chest, which made Allan tense up with the lightest of giggles at the way his stubble scratched at his topmost ribs.

“Feeheel any behehetter?” Allan managed to ask, looking down at him with a softer smile.

Ken thought about it for a moment before he hummed, his voice smooth and deep despite the strenuous battle, “Yeah. Definitely.”

Ken moved to stand up, hands on his hips as he looked out over Barbieland from their vantage point at the end of the block. To his surprise, Allan’s giddy laughter had caught the attention of quite a few neighbors, who gave him looks that came across as almost… relieved. Truth be told, everyone had been worried for Ken for some time now, but seeing, or more hearing, him be so carefree and mischievous, it was nice to see he hadn’t changed much.

Allan had to take a few more minutes to fully recover, though eventually he sat up with a deep breath, rolling his shoulders with a smile, “Gee. Remind me not to mess with you again.”

“Or- I dunno- maybe more often…?” Ken replied, his voice bordering on shy for once, “I wasn’t lying. It really did cheer me up, broski.”

And with that, Allan knew that he didn’t have anything to worry about after all. Ken was gonna be alright, even without Barbie, and even if the journey was longer than they anticipated. They would walk down that road together, wherever it was gonna take them. That’s what buddies are for.

[gaybananabread]

Squealing Santa 2023 - Gift for @randommusicalfluff

Happy Holidays @randommusicalfluff! I’m happy I got paired with you, love your art! I’ve never written for Welcome Home before, but I finally got a good reason! Full disclosure, I tried my best to go all out; sorry if it’s a bit crazy. Again, happy holidays if you celebrate, and I hope you Enjoy!

(Big thanks to @hypahticklish for hosting @squealing-santa again; I love this event and the fact that you made it possible! Amazing job as always!)

Lee: Eddie, Frank

Ler: Frank, Eddie

Fandom: Welcome Home

Summary: Frank is freezing in the chilly weather of winter. Lucky for him, he has a living teddy-bear for a partner. When said partner is sleepy, though, some fluffy tickles ensue. Eddie decides to return the favor, albeit gently.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Frank shivered in the coolness of the post office, his thicker sweater vest doing little to keep him warm. Snow fell in delicate flakes outside, leaving little water dots against the window on contact. The insect lover would much rather be snuggled up in blankets in front of a warm fire, but he promised Eddie that he’d be patient. He was regretting that promise.

“Alright, darlin’! All done with sortin’ tomorrow’s letters. Ready to head in?” A warm fuzz entered Frank’s chest when he heard that southern drawl. Not enough to distract him from the crisp air, of course, but it helped. “Absolutely; it’s much too cold in this office. You really must get a nicer heater for this room.” 

The gray-skinned puppet moved to his partner’s side, a small smile gracing his lips when Eddie raised his arm and pulled him in close. He was so warm; Frank could’ve stayed there for the rest of the season.

Eddie just chuckled, unlocking the thick door that separated his living quarters from the post office. He couldn’t understand why Frank was so cold; the southern man just had a thin flannel over his usual postal attire. He led Frank over to an armchair, handing him a blanket and turning to the fireplace. “C’mon, freezer-bug. I’ll get the heat goin’.” 

That got an eye-roll and a few mumbles from the logical puppet. Freezer-bug? It was snowing outside! Eddie was just too cozy, with his soft belly, warm eyes, tender embrace, rich voice…oh dear. Frank felt his cheeks heat up, adding to the fuzzy feeling. Heat sounded nice, though he’d prefer cuddles.

Soon, the heater whirred, struggling to warm both the post office and his home. Frank wrapped the blanket snugly around his shoulders, trying to warm up. He could’ve used a squishy teddy-bear right about then. “You coming, dear?”

Eddie shook his head, lifting the lankier puppet up and placing him in his lap. He laid the blanket across both of them, rubbing Frank’s back to try and warm him. The long day of sorting mail and delivering packages that morning had him all tuckered out; soon, his eyes were drifting closed, his arms going slack on his partner’s back.

Normally, Frank would’ve just let him sleep and enjoyed the closeness. He had been waiting for cuddles all day, however, and had been teased for shivering. It was obviously lighthearted, but Frank was nothing if not a creature of spite. Some payback was in order.

Frank’s nimble fingers kneaded into his partner’s plush belly, squeezing and poking at the center. Eddie giggled sleepily, moving one hand to swat at the ticklish feeling. His partner had to stifle a chuckle as he dodged the hand, squeezing and poking at the squishy area above his waist.

A groggy yelp burst from the red-haired man, his hands shooting to grab Frank’s wrists. The gray puppet wasn’t about to let that slide; he shoved at Eddie’s tangerine hands, continuing to tickle the wonderful pudge. “D-DAHAharlihin’?! Whahahat’re yaha dohohoin’?!”

“Well, you’ve made me wait for affection all day, and you *were* being rather mean about my shivering. I need to get some kind of revenge, dear. You understand, yes?” Frank moved his wiggly fingers to Eddie’s ribs, sending the man into a fit of laughter.

“I-IHIHIHI’M SAHAHARRY! IHI’LL GIHIVE YA AHAHALL THE CUHUHUDDLES YOUHU WAHAHANT!” Frank just chuckled, holding on tight and teasing his partner’s ribs. He loved the sound of Eddie’s laughter best. It was so bright, rich and full; such an easy thing to melt at. For the moment, though, he was strong.

Frank’s fingers moved to tug at the fabric of his partner’s tucked-in shirt. The soft fabric gave easily, exposing the soft felt of his tangerine belly. “Ah, what a sight. This tum of yours looks awfully cozy, Mr. Dear. I hope you don’t mind~” Before Eddie could protest any further, eight cold fingers were scribbling on his poor belly.

“F-FRAHAHAHANK! NAHAHAT THAHAT!” Of course he minded! Eddie normally refrained from using Frank’s first name, per their little habit; pet names or Mr. Frankly was what he stuck with. He couldn't help it, it tickled! The cool temperature somehow made everything twice as sensitive.

Frank gasped, letting his dramatic side take over. “*Frank*? When did we get so unprofessional?! You’ve *insulted* me, Mr. Dear. This cannot go unpunished.” *Oh, what a drama king*…

He paused for a second, hovering his hands above Eddie for a moment. Eddie was about to whine, his protests dying in his throat when he saw where those wiggling fingers were heading. His hips were horrible, and everyone in the neighborhood knew it. *Especially* Frank. Oh boy… 

“D-Daharlin’ no! Wahahait, lehet’s talk ‘bout thihis! Ya don’t gotta- GYEEAAAH!” Frank let his hands touch down on Eddie’s hips, giving the love handles a firm squeeze. The postman squealed, jolting so hard he almost sent Frank flying. It didn’t deter the entomophile; he only dug in further.

The poor postman was an incoherent mess, sputtering through his loud, boisterous laughter. “F-FRAHAHAHA! IHI CAHAHA- IHI’M SAHAHARRY! YEHER KIHIHIHILLIN’ MEHEHE!” He bucked and thrashed, his slick red hair quickly becoming a mussed-up mess. So much for staying sharp…

“Oh, come now. Your hips can’t possibly be *that* ticklish. It’s illogical.” Frank smirked, kneading his partner’s hips and drilling his thumbs into the plush skin. Eddie flailed as he cackled, trying and failing to do anything but sit there and toss his head back with laughter. “Then again, you have always been a bit of an anomaly. I guess southern gentlemen are exempt from that rule.”

The tickle-drunk postman giggled and panted, his belly quivering as he tried to regain his composure. A beautiful red hue decorated his face, pairing wonderfully with his sunset-colored felt. “Ohoho gohosh… Geheez, Mr. Frankly. Thahat was mihighty mean…”

Eddie drummed his legs against the chair, losing his marbles over the tickling. It was so bad! Frank didn’t normally go that far with his tickles, but he definitely was that time.

Eddie’s hand tapped at Frank’s arm, signaling that he really couldn’t handle any more. The lanky puppet immediately stopped, moving to rub his partner’s belly soothingly. He didn’t really need to, but it felt right; plus, his hands were still cold.

Frank huffed, rolling his eyes and snuggling up to Eddie. “Oh, hush. You know you enjoyed it, *dearest*~” He felt his cheeks heat further, the butterflies in his stomach going wild. The man blamed Frank’s insect obsession.

Even though he was tired, he wrapped his arms around Frank and held him close. Any thoughts of moving to the bedroom were gone, the armchair and Frank seeming as comfortable as ever. Eddie sighed, relaxing into the plush fabric and playing with the other puppet’s hair. “Whooo…got me plum tuckered, darlin’. Was there s’posed to be a point to all’a that?”

Frank just shrugged, getting comfortable on his warm “bed” for the night; time had really flown. “It seemed enjoyable, and it absolutely was. Besides, all that laughing warmed you up. Now I’ve got a nice warm bed…” The puppet had no shame, smiling softly and curling up even further.

Eddie huffed at his reasoning; only Frank… He was about to do the same until a fun idea popped into his head. A little retribution would be nice, and his partner *was* still complaining about being cold. Even if he was tired, the red-haired man was ready to give Frank a taste of his own medicine.

Pretending to doze off again, Eddie wrapped his arms around Frank and laid his hands on the bug lover’s sides. Frank thought nothing of it, assuming his dear would be too tired for revenge; oh, how wrong he was. Right as Frank’s eyes closed, Eddie struck. He wiggled his fingers into the gray puppet’s soft sides, using his arms to hold him tight.

Frank squeaked, a pink glow showing on his gray cheeks. “D-dehehearest! Ihi thohohought youhu wehehere tihihired!” The postman just smiled fondly, a gleam of mischief in his warm eyes. “Oh, I am. I reckon some payback’s in order before my nap, don’tcha think?” His tangerine-colored fingers gently scribbled and squeezed along Frank’s sides, pulling giggle after giggle from him.

The butterfly enthusiast flapped his hands, Eddie’s strong arms restricting any other movement. His partner cooed at the stims, granting himself one small kiss to the top of Frank’s head. “Yer adorable, darlin’. Flappin’ your hands like a lil’ butterfly~” 

Frank had to resist the urge to melt at the kiss, opting for more fruitless squirming. He tried to keep the gag going, but the puppet *could not* take what he dished out. “M-mihister- daharn it, Eddiehehehe!” 

The southern man gasped, a wide smile taking over his features; he’d never had the best poker face. “And you yelled at me and everythin’! Look’it you, callin’ me by my first name. Yer lucky I’m such a nice fella.” Eddie teased each of Frank’s ribs, making the intellectual fellow squeak and squeal. It was so unfairly gentle…

“Dehehearest! Plehehease!” The radiant blush against Frank’s gray felt was honestly adorable to Eddie. He could look at it all day, the lovely sound of his giggles pairing perfectly. However, he knew that the other puppet was tired, and that they could both seriously use a nap. Reluctantly, Eddie slowed to gentle traces, drawing small shapes across Frank’s sides and lower back.

“Ohoho dear…thahank you.” Frank took a few giggly breaths, melting into the gentle touch. “No problem, buggy-boo. Now you get your nap.” The postman kissed his head, adjusting the blanket and whispering sweet nothings into his ear. 

Frank was out in seconds, the warmth of his partner’s embrace and the slight exhaustion from giggling sending him straight to dreamland. Eddie chuckled fondly as he watched him doze off; it was too cute.

Shifting in the armchair, he closed his eyes, arms still around Frank as he joined the other puppet in a nap. Snow continued to fall outside, the temperature steadily dropping; in the comfort of Eddie’s home, however, the two couldn’t be happier. The perfect end to a cold winter’s day: a tickly cuddle session and nap with a lover.

[jimhenson-themuppetmaster]

The Great Santa Claus Switch, 1970

[vinewoodclassics]

to this day i think the most in character thing michael de santa has ever done was turning into an even bigger asshole the second he became a producer. Guy who calls himself someone to impress after being around someone for five minutes maximum. He’s the worst

[rosileeduckie]

Tickled to Death

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

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

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

Word count: 3,075

~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Remind me to stay off your bad side." 

"“Stay off.”"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, what do you suggest I—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t laugh.”

[wttt-dirus-work]

NY headcanon

December 1st he's shedding his beanie for a santa hat (those fluffy expensive ones) and he's wearing it all month, until January 1st, where he goes back to his usual beanie