#Ticklish!Forever

[kanene-yaaay]

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.

[potatohater]

Big brother’s love

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Dean & Sam Winchester (a bit of Castiel)

Word count: 1929

MY BABIES AHHGRRR; I just NEEDED some brothers fluff and HERE WE GO, LEE!SAM FOREVER🙏 love them, here it’s like moments since childhood-season 6 (bc I’m watching it rn) (btw @cringemesstickles I know that you’re a sucker for lee!sam so you might wanna check this one out🤭)

;

Dean loved making Sam smile, even though Sam always tried to hide it, making himself look more serious, deep down Dean always knew how to crack him

**

Older Winchester woke up and sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes. Clock said 8:03 am and he had no idea how he got so early today. John left them for a week.. which turned into two as he couldn’t kill the vampire he was hunting, so two teenage boys spent most of the time in the hotel room; not bothered by trying to pick up a school if they are going to attend it only for a few days.

Sam looked up from his book to take a look at his brother when he froze for half a second, biting back a smile

“What?” Dean asked him, was it something on his face or something?

“Oh no nothing” younger boy replied, trying to focus on his book, but taking a quick glance at Dean. Now him biting back a smile was even more visible

“Is it something on my face?” Dean’s brows furrowed as he asked out loud

He took a half glance in the mirror in the middle of the room and saw how his hair in the middle was slick back, but on the sides it was sticking up in all directions, making him look ridiculous. In what pose did he even had to sleep to get this hairstyle?

He turned his eyes back to Sam, seeing how hard he tried to focus on the book in front of him. They locked eyes as Dean wiggled his eyebrows, trying to play dumb to get the kid to crack

Even though Sammy was quite serious for a kid his age, it wasn’t that hard to make him laugh. 11 year old boy mostly found Dean’s fails funny, when he tried to flirt with a girl but got rejected. This type of fails

“I see you, what’s up? Why are you acting like thi—” Dean didn’t got to finish his sentence when younger boy broke into a stream of giggles. It was really easy to make him laugh sometimes

“Ihit’s juhust youhur hahair” Sam giggled quietly, dimples appearing on his cheeks as his face broke into shy smile. Like he knew it was a bit too childish even for him

Dean took a proper look into the mirror and chuckled too. His eyes were dead and the whole hair thing looked like he experienced getting struck by a lightning

He shook his head, standing up and quickly ruffled kid’s hair too so they would match

“Hehey!” Sam shoved his hand, trying to sound annoyed, but giggles in his voice ruined the whole facade

Yes. As Dean would say, it was pretty easy and unbearably hard to make younger Winchester laugh sometimes. The kid got specific humour

**

“SAMMY”

Sam who was standing in the middle of the room doubled on the floor laughing as he saw his brother’s head sticking from the bathroom doorway. They had a little prank war going on and younger Winchester decided it would be hilarious to put some hair dye into Dean’s shampoo

Dean on the other hand wasn’t so happy. His hair was dripping wet and his neck and shoulders were also covered in dark-ish blue dye. His mouth twitched for a second when he was his brother on the floor laughing his ass off, but taking another look in the mirror reminded him that revenge is necessary

“Come here bitch!” Dean said while putting his pants on and running in Sam’s direction. Long haired teenager quickly tried to stand up, but was immediately tackled to the floor by his brother; not like he put up a fight, Sam was mostly giggling like a madman every time he looked at Dean

“Something funny?” Dean tried to look serious but small grin crept into his face as he saw his brother pinned underneath him “Oh I can give you something to laugh at”

With that said, he wiggled his fingers into Sam’s side, making his giggles transform into full on laughter

Damn it sounded good; Dean could swear his laugh immediately filled the whole room, lighting it up

“DEHehean! stOHOP IHihi aham tohoho ohOHOLD FOHOR THIHIS”

“You are only 16 kid, the only one old here is me, and apparently I’m gonna have blue hair for the next—MONTH THANKS TO YOU” Dean chuckled as he raised his voice over Sam’s so he would hear him

Sam’s laugh got higher when he darted his eyes at Dean over him who was still dripping in blue colour

“Any last words?”

“IHIHIT WAHAS SOHOHO WOHORTH IHIHIT” Sam looked at Dean one last time before losing himself in his own laughter again. Dean’s grin got wider with every second as he tickled his brother on the motel floor. Maybe he didn’t care that much about his hair

**

“Dean!” Sam squeaked as Dean made a move in his direction

“Sam!” Dean chuckled, mirroring his brother’s tone

They were standing at opposite sides of a table in the motel room, waiting for other one to make a move. Well, long story short — Dean found out Sam still had his weakness in touch, apparently Sam was surprised too

“Don’t!” Sam tried to threaten but smile on his face outweighed all the venom in his voice

Dean was wearing a grin on his own, quickly running around the table to catch his brother

They were doing it for the past few minutes, but this time Dean actually tackled Sam on the floor. Both laughing the whole time they tried to gain an upper hand

“DEHEHEHEAN!”

Older Winchester got his hands squeezing his brother’s knees as he watched his reaction

Sam was okay before.. well maybe a little tired and declined any offer to take a proper sleep, saying that “he was okay taking 2 hour naps every few days”; so as every good brother, Dean just needed an excuse to mess with him. They deserve to have fun once in a while, especially Sam

“Ha! Man you didn’t change— do you still do that? Wait let me check” Dean said as he got his hands to Sam’s ribs, playing them like a guitar

Sam’s laughter transformed into high-pitched giggles that were just music to his brother’s ears

“That’s what you get for not getting to bed. Gosh it’s like I’m 15 again, forcing you to sleep”

Sam’s laughter rang even louder at the recalling memories of their childhood, as joyful sounds came out of him

“And now you are 23 and you didn’t change a bit” Dean grinned, eliciting more sounds form Sam

**

“Ohokay okay, easy tiger” Older Winchester chuckled at his baby brother who drank a bit too much in the bar. Dean was immune for a few shots of tequila, considering how much alcohol he consumes, Sam wasn’t that strong

“What is wrong with him?” Castiel was standing in the middle of the motel room Winchesters were staying

“Has gone a little overboard, but who gives a shit. I finally convinced him to take a few days off and I don’t care that there is a fucking apocalypse, okay? He needed a moment to breathe out” Dean replied as he caught his brother from falling on the floor and threw him on the bed, making it easier for both of them

“So what now?”

“Well, I’m gonna take his coat and shoes off and let him sleep. Oh man, a hangover tomorrow is going to be ruthless” Older brother chuckled

He motioned Cas to come closer and hold Sam’s abdomen as he took the coat of him. On accident, one of Cas’ hands got under younger Winchester’s arms, making him squirm a bit and let out a quiet giggle

“What was that?” Dean and Cas almost said in unison as Dean put his brother’s clothes and shoes in the wardrobe

Dean’s brows knitted together as a small grin broke his face

“Hey Cas, can you spread his elbows like— yeah like that” Dean full on smiled

Angel did as he was told, grabbing both Sam’s elbows and raised them up, spreading them. Meanwhile Sam was too tired to stop anything.

Dean took a step closer, warming his fingers under Sam’s arms. His brother’s face immediately broke down into wide smile when he clamped his arms down, doing nothing to stop the sensation

“What are you do— waHAHEHehait!” Sam got out of Castiel’s grip and slammed his back into the bed where he was previously sitting (or at least tried to). His eyes were squeezed and smile shining, showing all his teeth

“Damn Sammy, a drop of alcohol in you, and you become even more ticklish than when you were a kid” Dean beamed

“What is wrong with him?” Cas now stood up, and standing next to the bed stared at laughing younger brother who couldn’t even put up a fight because he was so intoxicated and an older brother who now was sitting on his lower half, pinning him and tickling him, having a smile on his face as big as Sam’s. A look of confusion and amusement mixing up in angel

“Oh, it’s called tickling. It’s when you touch some parts of the body that make other person laugh. It’s a body reaction our ancestors had back in the day for surviving. Now it’s.. for messing with your baby brother for example”

“And he laughs because it’s body’s reaction” Cas repeated, trying to make sense out of it

“Pretty much”

“Huh” Cas wanted to say something but his hearing focused on Sam’s high-pitched laughter again. Making his face to share the same kind of grin Dean has been wearing

Right now and there he noticed that Sam didn’t laugh enough. His laugh is too nice to hide it under all these layers of seriousness

“heheHESTOHOHOP DEhehean!” Sam laughed, eyes squeezed shut and hands trying to catch his brother but he even when he did he was to tired to do anything that shove lightly at them

Cas and Dean joined him, chuckling everytime he made some funny noise. “Yeah” Cas thought “humans are cute”

**

“Hey, you okay?” Dean’s voice rang through the living room where his brother was sitting

They stayed at Bobby’s for some time, trying to find out more about this “Mother” bullshit, someone that can ruin their world and kill everyone (again)

“You know what I did, Dean. That whole year was—” Sam was interrupted by his brother who nudged him in the side with his elbow

“Come on, we’ve been through this. I— you can’t believe how glad I’m that you’re back. That was not you Sammy”

Sam tried to fight, but found that it’s easier just to listen to Dean. “Yeah, maybe you’re right”

“Dude you couldn’t believe how DRY you were, I mean, your humour was purely based on making fun of something. We were almost killed multiple times because you found demons funny and just laughed at their faces” Dean recalled with amused chuckle

Sam let his own small smile to tug at his lips

“Well, at least I got you back, and you still think I’m a god of comedy” Older brother wigged his brows

“Oh you wish” Sam shook his head with a snicker

“What? I’m hilarious” Dean said, poking his brother which made him giggle

“See? You do still find me funny” Each word was highlighted by a poke to Sam’s side, making him giggle again and playfully slap Dean’s hand

“Yeheah, maybe I stihil do”

[nhasablogg]

If I'm to let it in, it might just stay forever

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Derek/Spencer

Summary: Derek and Spencer go to the tickle club.

Anonymous said: So in the For Love to Replace your Shame fic the last line basically says that after a couple weeks they walk back into the club hand in hand. I was wondering if you could write a small fic where Derek and Spencer are in the club together? I just wanna see Spencer actually be able to enjoy it :)) -M

Words: 1.4k

Read it on AO3.

Referenced fic here.

Spencer looked good under the flashing lights. Not necessarily as though he belonged, because he was visibly nervous, his grip on Derek’s hand tight enough to be uncomfortable, but he looked good because he seemed giddy. A spark in his eyes which Derek hadn’t really seen before, especially not in regards to this, something that still made him shut down before he realized he wasn’t being judged.

The Feather was jam-packed. A Saturday, which had been absolutely freezing and miserable, prompting desperate people to seek fun after dark, and boy did they sound like they were having fun. Now that Derek was here off the clock he felt much more relaxed, and so he was taking it all in differently. Not seeking, simply watching, though he was mostly watching Spencer. While Spencer was obviously still a bit on edge it wasn’t as bad as their first couple of visits. He wasn’t alone with his feelings anymore, his shoulders lighter. His eyes were everywhere, head going back and forth, his cheeks pinkening as the ticklish laughter surrounded them.

Derek leaned closer to him to be heard over the music. “We can stay as long as you want, which also means we can leave whenever, okay?”

Spencer nodded. “Okay.”

“I mean it, pretty boy. The minute you want to leave, we leave.”

Spencer squeezed his hand. “I hear you.”

“Good.” Derek squeezed back, wondering if the visit would include him tickling Spencer at all or if they would be saving it until later, behind the four walls of a bedroom. He’d just started doing it, tickling Spencer until he was a giggly mess, without it ending with Derek having to reassure him that he loved that this was something he wanted him to do. Not that he minded it, but he was glad it was becoming easier now. He quite enjoyed himself doing it.

They’d decided to come back to The Feather because Derek found it unfair that Spencer had had his eye on this club for ages before he’d been forced to visit it due to a case, but what Derek hadn’t told him was that he was equally as curious to return. Curious about it all, curious about what would catch Spencer’s eye, about how he would react. Spencer could probably feel his gaze on him, and while he might’ve felt self conscious about it he seemed entirely too preoccupied to say anything about it.

“Oh, look, I did that to you last night.” Derek didn’t mean for it to sound as any form of teasing - he genuinely felt a surge of excitement as he caught sight of a woman trying to twist out of the grip of another woman who was targeting her hips - but Spencer covered his face in embarrassment anyway. Maybe Derek wasn’t too mad about it.

“I think this might end me,” he said, peeking out when Derek nudged him.

Spencer didn’t know this, but Derek hadn’t been able to stop thinking of this, this moment, the things Spencer had told him, for the past few days. He’d imagined them entering. Imagined Spencer being grabbed left and right by unknown, eager hands. He’d imagined being jealous, but there had been something appealing about the sight, too. Sensual, almost. Of course that didn’t end up happening, because these people valued consent more than anything. And besides, Spencer didn’t want to come here to get tickled by others. He’d told him that countless times.

“I want to experience it normally,” he’d said. “Remove the case from it.”

And Derek, who had thought of the case nearly every single day since it had happened, had understood what he meant.

They hadn’t talked about what they expected out of this experience. Spencer had seemed too anxious and excited and shy all at the same time for Derek to want to ask. He couldn’t imagine he wanted strangers to touch him anyway, besides his protests, but if he did, in the midst of drunken giddiness to finally be able to be himself, non-judged, Derek needed to quickly decide how he felt about it, because who was he to deny Spencer this if he wanted it?

But who was he kidding. He didn’t like the idea of that at all.

“Quick question,” he said as they elbowed their way deeper into the room, aiming to take a lap before ordering drinks. “I know you said you don’t want to, but if someone grabs for you, am I supposed to protect you?”

“If someone- grabs for me?”

“You know. Pulls you into a tickle fight.”

“Oh. Well, I doubt anyone would.”

“Right, but if.”

“Sure, yeah, protect me. I don’t think I’d like that.”

“I don’t think I’d like that either.”

Spencer grinned, the last bit of anxiety falling off his face. “You’d be jealous.”

“I so wouldn’t.”

“Uh huh.”

Derek liked the fact that Spencer was smiling too much to get all in his feelings about this, and so he merely pulled him closer with the pretense of pulling him with him. He wasn’t stupid enough to think Spencer believed that that was his intention, but it made him feel better to pretend. They’d not reached the stage where honesty overpowered anything else yet. They still had walls, although they’d broken down several of them pre-relationship, if that was what they had. They’d not talked about it.

Derek was absolutely terrified to talk about it, truth be told.

“You think we can just- go in?” he asked as they stopped in front of a door labeled “bondage room”.

Spencer shook his head. “We shouldn’t either way. I wouldn’t want to have people see that.”

“That’s fair.” Memories of the case flashed before him. The idea of Spencer tied up, helpless. The thing he desired being used against him.

A hand on his wrist, squeezing it. “I’m okay, Derek.”

Derek knew he wasn’t, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he slipped his hand into Spencer’s, squeezing it back. “Let’s get something to drink, okay?”

Spencer nodded and they made their way through the crowd hand in hand, something Derek still wasn’t used to.

“Do you want a Tickle Me Drink or a Blushy Lee Bourbon?” Derek asked him as they sat down by the bar, reading off the menu on the wall. When he turned back to him Spencer was blushing, although he didn’t avert his gaze, and Derek suddenly felt as if he would explode.

“Not a fan of bourbon,” was all he said, glancing down up the drinks list. “How about a Pick Your Spot Pina Colada?”

“You got it, pretty boy.”

Derek wanted to tease him about picking a drink without a name which he would have a hard time saying out loud, but he didn’t. Instead he leaned over toward the bartender - not the bastard from the case - and ordered for them both. Derek picked the Cosmotickleton, grinning when Spencer squirmed beside him.

“So,” he said as the bartender went away to start on their drinks. “How are you feeling so far?”

Spencer shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot to take in after everything.” Derek leaned closer, a finger on Spencer’s arm. “How ‘bout you tell me what you’re liking?”

Spencer shivered, subtly, but Derek could feel it. “About the club?”

“Uh huh.”

“I like how accepting it is.” His answer came quickly and easily. “It’s loud and overstimulating, but- well, I’ve never felt safe in a club before, you know?”

Derek wanted to ask more. Wanted to hear him talk about the particular tickle scenarios that were happening all around him, but realized Spencer wasn’t here for that. Realized there was more to it than the exposure to the tickling itself. Maybe one day Derek would understand. He was happy to wait, happy to explore, happy to solve parts of the puzzle himself until that day.

They got their drinks, clinked their glasses together and watched the dance floor. Watched people kiss and grind and tickle and jump. And later, they danced - Spencer was a hip swinger much to Derek’s delight - and as they pressed close, and with Spencer’s permission, he pressed his fingers into his sides, making him swing in a different way. And even later, when they stumbled into Derek’s apartment because it was closer, Derek kissed him for several minutes before he went for his ribs, but only because Spencer had grown impatient.

[intheticklecloset]

Could I maybe get some Lee!chuuya and Lee!dazai

I know how much you love chuuyaaa🩷

Maybe with “there’s no point in hiding” as the sentence starter

PS. Constantly coming back to your account for not just your bsd stuff but a lot of your fics your so crazy talented ❤️

*gasp* Lee Chuuya! I love writing him! I don't do it enough! (Also since I got your ask twice I know the first time you asked for ler!Dazai, so I made this one-sided - hope that's okay!) Thank you for the ask and for your kind words! I appreciate it. 💖

~~~

“There’s no point in hiding,” Dazai chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“You know you want it~”

“Shut up, I said—!” Chuuya growled when his voice broke on the word, covering his dark red face with both hands. “Get that cursed thing away from me!”

“Hmm…” Dazai mock pondered, then brought the tip of the feather down to Chuuya’s tummy and drew an invisible, tickly line. “No.”

“Dazai!” Chuuya screeched, arms flying down to shove him away, but it didn’t stop the slew of giggles that fell out of his mouth at the minute contact. He shivered, his smile wobbly as he looked up at his partner. “Fuhuhucking…don’t do that!”

The detective twirled the feather teasingly between his first two fingers and smirked down at the redhead. “Do what?”

Chuuya was going to kill him. How had he wound up here, lying on the couch with his dumbass boyfriend on top of him, wiggling that wretched torture device at him with a far too happy grin on his face?

“Don’t…don’t tickle me with that thing!”

“Oh?” Dazai looked at the feather as if surprised by its presence, then swiftly brought it down to dip into Chuuya’s belly button.

The redhead screeched again and bucked his hips desperately, loud cackles flying past his lips as he shoved his partner away again. “Dohohohohon’t! You fuhuhuhucking asshole!”

At this point, even Dazai couldn’t hold back his amused giggles. “You’re so feather ticklish, chibi. It’s adorable.”

“Shut up! No it’s not!”

“Oh, but it is! Look,” he teased, wiggling the feather in front of Chuuya’s face, watching his boyfriend shrink back into the couch cushions, eyes wide with a nervous smile. “I’m not even touching you now and you’re still so flustered~”

“It’s fucking embarrassing!” Chuuya groaned, covering his face again. “For the love of god, don’t use that on MEHEHEHEHEHE!! NOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

This time when his hands flew down to stop him, Dazai deftly grabbed his wrists in one hand and held them out of the way while the feather trailed a tickly path down the redhead’s tummy, making Chuuya throw his head back and laugh completely unfiltered.

“FUHUHUHUHUCK, DAZAI!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Dazai took the opportunity to smile fondly at his distracted boyfriend, very slowly and softly dragging the tip of the feather up and down his bouncing belly. “Hmm…no, I don’t think I will, chibi. I like seeing you like this. Besides…”

He dipped the feather into Chuuya’s belly button again, beaming at the loud shriek and subsequent curse his partner let fly at him, his cheeks flushed red and arms trembling in Dazai’s hold.

“…I think we both know you like this just as much as I do~”

[thebest-medicine]

THE OWL HOUSE FINALE SPOILERS

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Guys… the implications of Darius’s silly teasing abomination hair hand 🫠😍😍

[tickle-bugs]

The Ol' Kentucky Welcome

Summary: Eggsy’s attitude gets him into trouble at Statesman HQ. Whiskey and Tequila show him how they handle mouthy recruits with too much pride.

Anon: Hey!  Love your work.  I was trying to think of something I haven't read.  So, kingsman and golden circle.  Maybe eggsy, whiskey, and Tatum s characters get real drunk one night, start teasing each other and a full out brawl of a tickle fight happens!!!  You can do it!!!  Thanks! 

Loose handwaving at and spoilers for Kingsman: The Golden Circle.

Becoming a Kingsman had done wonders for Eggsy’s impulse control and sense of self. He’s got restraint now, and better judgement—he doesn’t blindly chase a whim without considering the consequences first. 

This is what he tells himself as he poaches a bottle of premium Statesman Reserve whiskey from a supply closet rather ominously labeled ‘This Ain’t For Sharing, Friend’. He makes sure to shuffle the bottles to disguise the large gap left behind on the shelf.

He settles in at the Statesman briefing room table, loosening his tie and shirt collar. He unbuttons his jacket and, in a rare flash of bad manners, kicks his feet up onto one of the nearby chairs.

The thought of Harry scolding him for it tugs at chest. 

“Now what do we have here?” Whiskey whistles lowly, ducking into the doorway. Tequila fits in beside him. Eggsy gives a mocking salute before popping the cork on the bottle. He grabs a polished crystal glass from a platter on the table and pours himself a hefty bit. 

“Looks to me like we’ve got a thief, Whiskey.” Tequila arches his brow. “Y’ain’t learned your lesson yet, Galahad?”

“Gentlemen.” Eggsy smirks and lifts his glass. The sharp kiss of the liquor burns his tongue, but it washes back with a smoky smoothness unlike anything he'd ever tried. He smacks his lips loudly, enjoying the slight twitch of Whiskey’s eyebrow in response.

“Thought you fancy-types were supposed to be polite.” Whiskey puts his hands on his hips. 

“And I thought you brutish types couldn’t make something so delicious.” Eggsy angles the glass in the light. The liquid seems to glow. 

Tequila ducks past Whiskey and takes a seat at the table, helping himself to a glass. He clinks glasses with Eggsy and they share another sip. Both of them sigh in unison, sinking deeper into their chairs. Whiskey throws Eggsy’s feet off his chair and takes a seat. 

“You’re lucky I ain’t reportin’ you to Ginger Ale for theft.” Whiskey fixes himself a glass. He takes off his hat and rests it on the table. He shrugs off his jacket, draping it over the back of the chair.

“Report me for what?” Eggsy cocks his head. “You fine, upstanding gentlemen cracked open a bottle of your own reserve to share with your guest and I just had to say yes. Would hate to be impolite.”

Whiskey glares. Eggsy sips innocently. 

“I like this motherfucker, Whiskey.” Tequila laughs, muffling himself in his fist. Whiskey shifts his glare. 

“‘Course you do. You can’t keep your mug outta trouble to save your life.” 

“Least my mug ain’t ugly,” Tequila grumbles. Eggsy snorts. Whiskey turns to fish for a pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. As he leans forward, a silver shine peeks out of his pants pocket. Eggsy gently plucks a shiny lighter from Whiskey’s pocket and tucks it into his own. 

“Champagne mentioned you’re a cheeky bugger.” Eggsy knocks shoulders with Tequila and winks.

“I dunno what that means.” Tequila frowns. They both watch Whiskey fumble around for the lost lighter and keep smooth, straight expressions. 

“You get into shit. He’s fond of you?” Eggsy gestures at him. Tequila nods. 

“Yeah, well…he wasn’t always. I’ve always been a bit of a firecracker. Didn’t make the best choices. Got people hurt. Built up a reputation for bein’ a problem, and Champagne started makin’ me own it.” Tequila watches his whiskey swirl in his glass. Eggsy hums thoughtfully.

“Sounds like Harry. He didn’t let me get away with shit. If I did something reckless, it was my arse on the line. But sometimes it paid off.” Eggsy smiles and thinks of stealing Harry’s cab on his way out of initiation. 

“To good mentors.” Tequila inclines his head respectfully and raises his glass. Eggsy clinks their glasses together. 

The three of them pass the time draining the bottle and looking out over the twinkling lights of the distillery buildings. A boyish mischief settles into Tequila, one that grows as the liquor in the bottle sinks. Whiskey starts to slur his words, but he maintains a hunter’s focus. 

“Tell me somethin’, Eggsy. What brought you to Kingsman?” Whiskey watches him over the rim of his glass. His stare is piercing. 

“Hm. Harry did. Not so different from Tequila, I reckon. I’d made a right fuckin’ mess and Harry saved me from it. Gave me a job. He saw something in me that no one else did.” Eggsy traces his fingers along the edge of his cup. He glances absently towards Harry’s cell and sighs quickly. Whiskey follows his gaze. 

“Did your lepidopterist friend teach you to have sticky fingers, or do you just like causin’ problems?” Whiskey holds his hand out. Eggsy rolls his eyes and hands over the stolen lighter.

“I’ve always been good at nicking things. S’fun.” Eggsy grins and produces Whiskey’s wallet. Whiskey grumbles under his breath and snatches it. 

“Feels like you’re the only one of your people that ain’t all hoity-toity. What other secrets are you hiding?” Tequila leans forward. The question grates against Eggsy’s better instincts. He searches Tequila’s face for the slightest bit of ill will. All that sticks is the way light catches softly on his eyes. Eggsy hums and turns his eyes to the ceiling to think.

“Well, my girlfriend bein’ a princess isn’t much of a secret anymore, so…I was a gymnast for a bit.” Eggsy grins. Tequila’s eyes light up and he starts snapping in Whiskey’s direction. For each snap, Whiskey gives a disgruntled hm until eventually they’re just swatting at each other. 

“Whiskey, don’t we have them flippy bars down in the gym?” Tequila sniffs, blinking as the liquor hits his sinuses. Eggsy perks up. A spark of excitement picks up atop the warm flush of liquor in his stomach. 

“We do. For Statesman agents. Y’know Rum and Cognac get real touchy ‘bout their stuff.” Whiskey raises an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re workin’ together now, ain’t we? ‘Sides, Rum and Cognac ain’t here. Let’s walk him down there. I wanna see what he can do.” Tequila claps Eggsy on the shoulder. Eggsy gives his best winning smile. Whiskey grumbles, then downs the rest of his glass. 

“Fuck it. Fine. Five minutes.” 

…

They stumble down to the Statesman training facility, passing by a very tired Ginger Ale who opts not to ask why Eggsy’s wearing Tequila’s hat (pretty simple, it’s ‘cause he nicked it). Whiskey puts his thumb to a scanner and the wall unfolds for them. 

The lights click on in rows, lighting the industrial space. Eggsy gasps like a kid on Christmas morning. 

Sophisticated weight training and combat equipment sit in neat rows. Eggsy locks in directly past that, drifting unconsciously towards a heaping pile of chalk bags. Pommel horses, beams, bars, and hanging rings sprawl out on a spring mat, all in pristine condition. A few launchpads and trampolines lay near the equipment. Eggsy laughs incredulously as he takes it in. Nostalgia flutters in his chest. 

Eggsy immediately unbuttons his shirt, folding it cleanly and crisply. He shoves it and the cowboy hat into Tequila’s arms, adjusts his tank top, then works to unlace his shoes. The moment his feet are free, he sprints for one of the springboards. He hits it clean, just like he’d learned, and pushes off the vault, twisting through the air. His landing is a bit messy, but it’s functional, and he takes off to the parallel bars next.

The alcohol writhes in his system, but he doesn’t care. How can he? It’s been years. Coach’d told him he was good enough for the fucking Olympics and he hadn’t touched a set of bars since. The flex of the bars is a comfort to him. He flips and twirls, holding crisp handstands and tucks through muscle memory alone.

He dismounts beautifully from the parallel bars to the pleasant thrum of adrenaline and a smattering of applause. 

“Hoowee, that was somethin’!” Tequila ruffles Eggsy’s hair, destroying the last hold of the gel on his head. Eggsy laughs and swats him away. 

“Hats off to you, kid. Takes a lot of skill to pull that off.” Whiskey nods in respect. Eggsy returns it. 

“I ain’t gonna lie, I thought you were gonna fall on your ass. I’m impressed.” Tequila slugs his shoulder with a brassy laugh. 

“Thanks, Tequila.” Eggsy grins roguishly. “Mind givin’ me a boost?” 

“Sure.” Tequila follows Eggsy over to the high bar. Whiskey loudly clears his throat. 

“Boys, this has been…eye-openin’, but we really should get goin’. Early start tomorrow, I imagine. And this one’ll be fit to collapse when the time difference catches up.” Whiskey inclines his head towards Eggsy. 

“Sorry, bruv? Can’t hear you all the way over there.” Eggsy gestures to his ear with a cheeky grin. 

“I said—“

“No, no. If you have something to say, come whisper it in my fucking ear.” Eggsy snickers, hearing Merlin’s voice in his head. Whiskey rolls his eyes and saunters over. 

“Look, I respect you ‘cause Champagne respects you. Other than that, you’re still a brat that oughta fall into line. Let’s turn in for the night. Both of you.” Whiskey raises his eyebrow. The honey tones of his voice make his annoyance all the more amusing. 

“What’re you gonna do about it? Get me with your skipping rope?” Eggsy smirks. Tequila mutters a quiet aw hell and takes a step back. 

“Maybe I will, you little shit.” 

Eggsy comes to terms with a number of things about himself in that moment, and he puts them all away to process sober. Instead, he gestures for Tequila to give him a hand and reaches up for the bar. 

Tequila picks him up by the waist, and it’s not the smooth, assisted lift he’s used to. It’s the clumsy grip of a drunk surprised by weight. Tequila does lift Eggsy up to the bar, but at the cost of his dignity— he spasms and makes a high-pitched noise when Tequila’s fingers press into his waist.  

In hindsight, he should’ve seen the way Whiskey’s eyes narrowed at that. 

“What the hell was that?” Tequila squints up at him. 

“Nothin’. Thought you were gonna drop me. Bugger off.” Eggsy kicks weakly in Tequila’s direction. He backs up, hands raised. Whiskey steps in, hands on his belt. 

“Get off the bar, Eggsy.” Whiskey sniffs authoritatively. The logical Kingsman agent buried in Eggsy’s brain sets off warning bells, but Drunk Eggsy, who is obviously of much sounder mind, ignores it. 

“Make me, Whiskey.” Eggsy starts to swing in the space he has. Not enough to kick anyone, but enough to look like he will. He manages to rotate clumsily around the bar once, then hangs back down in front of Whiskey. 

“You want me to embarrass you in front of your new friend? Okay.” Whiskey steps up to Eggsy and makes a show of sizing him up. Then, quicker than the draw of his pistols, his hands latch onto Eggsy’s sides and squeeze until he’s screaming and plummeting off the bar. Eggsy’s short life flashes before his eyes as he falls bodily into Tequila’s arms. 

“Are you fucking mental?” Eggsy goes to shove Whiskey, but Tequila holds him back. 

“Woah, watch that mouth of yours!” Whiskey laughs, eyes glittering. “You told me to make you. Your wish is my command, friend.”

Eggsy kicks, trying to break Tequila's hold, and he catches Whiskey right in the balls. He makes a noise like a wounded donkey and folds over. Eggsy snickers. Whiskey whips his reddening face up and glares. 

“Now you’ve done it. Tequila!” Whiskey tosses something his way and he catches it. Eggsy barely has time to react before his arms are bound and hoisted in the air above his head. His toes brush the ground. The bar above him creaks in protest but does not give. 

Whiskey puts his hands on his hips again. Eggsy wonders if that’s a cowboy thing or an American one. 

“Skippin’ rope, bitch.” Whiskey grins, sharklike. “Now…you done with the whole insubordination routine or am I gonna have to give you the ol’ Kentucky Welcome?” 

Eggsy snorts derisively. He tests his bindings. They hold steady. Fear starts to pierce through his liquid courage. 

“I’m honored, bruv, but I’m in a committed relationship—“

Whiskey clicks his tongue and crowds into Eggsy’s space. He immediately steels himself for violence—what else would there be besides violence? He’s been jumped before. He’s no stranger to the predatory tilt of Whiskey’s head. He sets his jaw and glares. 

“When Tequila first joined up, he carried a bit of them clownin’ instincts with him. That didn’t fly with Champagne. We had to figure out a way to take him down a few pegs without hurtin’ him. So, the Kentucky Welcome was born.” 

“Aw, fuck you, Whiskey. Seriously, man.” Tequila pipes up from behind Eggsy. 

“What does this have to do with me? I know you Americans love to hear yourself talk, but I’m not interested.” Eggsy tries to pull free. Nothing. Whiskey’s gaze gets softer, more mischievous. The change is deeply unnerving. 

“Well, you remind me of Tequila. You’ve clearly got a good head on your shoulders, but you’re a little shit. So I’m gonna deal with you the same way we used to deal with him. Last chance, kid. You comin’ quietly or are we gonna have to drag you?” 

Eggsy flinches when Whiskey reaches for him—years of habit die hard—and prepares himself for the hard crunch of knuckles into his ribs. Instead, he’s met with a gentle and persistent scritching. 

A confused noise bubbles up at the back of Eggsy’s throat, quickly chased by a wobbly smile. He ducks his head and bites his lip. 

Oh what the fuck? 

Kingsman had taught him to resist the most painful and stressful of scenarios, but they’d never taught him what to do about this. Tilde’s maybe the only person who knows that he’s ticklish, and even then…he can convince her to let him go by kissing her senseless. Eggsy doubts that’ll work here. 

“Uh oh, Galahad. Don’t tell me something’s botherin’ you?” Whiskey presses an insincere hand to his heart. Eggsy’s brain stutters for a moment as he realizes that Tequila’s the one scratching at his ribs. 

“Fffffuck you.” Eggsy exhales sharply through his nose and closes his eyes--nope, that’s worse. So much worse. 

Whiskey tickles under his arms and Eggsy yelps, bright laughter tumbling after. It shouldn’t be this bad—Tilde’s done far worse to him in jest, but somehow the teasing grin of his begrudging allies gets under his skin. His arms flex as he tries to pull himself up and away, but his strength collapses with every breath. 

“Aw, y’all are twins.” Whiskey leans around Eggsy to smirk at Tequila. 

“Whiskey.” Tequila’s languished tone being hilarious really doesn’t help things. Eggsy’s entire face scrunches as he tries to find his way back towards composure. A hiccup sneaks into his chest, and then he’s giggling incessantly. His chest feels like the sparklers he’d run around with as a kid, bright and fizzling and dissolving with every breath. 

“Y’know, I wish I had tried this when I first caught y’all. Prolly woulda gone a hell of a lot faster.” Tequila’s voice floats past Eggsy’s ear. Eggsy manages a giggly growl and a halfhearted headbutt in his direction. Tequila tuts at him and folds his fingers into Eggsy’s waistline. 

He makes a noise at a pitch that threatens to shatter every lightbulb in the room. Tequila’s calloused fingers strum Eggsy’s nerves like guitar strings and it tickles, fucking shit—

Tequila hooks his fingers just so and Eggsy kicks. Whiskey snags his ankle before a second devastating impact can occur. They make tortuous eye contact. 

“Whiskey—“ Eggsy attempts to appeal to the cowboy’s humanity with what Merlin fondly calls his nuclear puppy eyes. 

Grinning wickedly, Whiskey shakes his head and reaches for his trapped foot. 

Eggsy’s eyes bug out of his head. 

He wrenches his leg free, twists his hands, and flips upwards. Managing a gold-worthy handstand into a dismount, he frees his wrists and lands smoothly. Eggsy playfully curtsies. Tequila starts to clap. Whiskey smacks him upside the head.

“Alright, I’m done playin’ around. Grab him. If we’re caught down here at this hour it’ll be my hide.” Whiskey gestures for Tequila to step in. He does so, still a little off-kilter from the liquor. 

Eggsy rushes in, expecting a clumsier rendition of the fighting style he’d been so painfully introduced to. Instead, Tequila smoothly blocks his blows and hoists Eggsy over his shoulder like a sack of fucking potatoes. One of his arms locks behind Eggsy’s thighs as they start to walk for the door. It takes him a moment to even process being upside-down. The sway of Tequila’s gait shakes some blood into his brain.

“Aw, y’all are twins.”

“—deal with you the same way we used to deal with him—“

A lightbulb clicks on in Eggsy’s head. He shouldn’t…but he could…but he shouldn’t—

He shoves his hands under Tequila’s arms. Before he can blink or breathe, they’re in a heap on the ground. Tequila’s cackling dead weight presses the air from Eggsy’s chest.

“Thought you’d put up more of a fight, bruv.” Eggsy’s eyebrows raise. Tequila shrieks at him in response. Eggsy manages to wiggle free and hop lightly to his feet as Tequila gathers his wits. 

“There’s one of you and two of us. Be wise.” Whiskey cracks his neck. Eggsy looks over at Tequila and smirks devilishly. Tequila pales. 

“I like those odds.” 

The flurry of motion as they charge each other sets off the ‘fight’ center in his brain, but there is some comfort in knowing no harm is on the table. Eggsy flips and twists out of their grasp, taking advantage of his flexibility to pull off increasingly ridiculous dodges. He neatly sweeps both Whiskey and Tequila’s legs out from under them. 

“Little help?” Whiskey gestures lamely at Tequila. 

“Nah, I’m done. Y’all are nuts.” Tequila lays on his back, putting his hat down over his face. He folds his arms behind his head. Whiskey curses at him. Tequila gives him the finger. 

Whiskey grabs Eggsy by the back of the shirt--really, he should know better--and Eggsy sweeps him again. Whiskey’s ready for it this time, though, and he manages a pin faster than Eggsy can roll away. Whiskey plants himself on Eggsy’s back like he’s settling on a bull. 

“Aren’t you tired? Goddamn.” Whiskey sighs. Eggsy winces at the texture of the mat against his cheek. 

It reminds him of Roxy and agonizing training sessions, of hours of sweat and bruising and his face stinging from being slammed into the mat. Even past the wave of grief, he remembers the shape of her smile when she would lecture him about letting her pin him on his stomach. 

“Indefensible,” she’d say, prodding the back of his ribs. “You’re a sitting duck like this.”

And every time he’d roll his eyes, hooking his fingers behind her knees--

Oh. Hm. 

As best as he can, he reaches back and latches onto Whiskey’s thigh, squeezing just above his knee. Whiskey hollers and tries to phase right through the floor. Eggsy rolls them over and pursues, squeezing and squeezing until Whiskey is a wheezing pile on the floor. 

Eggsy flips onto his feet. He knows he’s imagining the fond, ghostly squeeze on his shoulder, but he puts his hand on the spot anyways. 

“Now I’m tired. Goodnight, fellas.” Eggsy salutes with a wide grin, stepping over both cowboys. He gathers his belongings and saunters for the door, whistling pleasantly. 

Whiskey rubs a hand over his face as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Kid’s fuckin’ lucky I like him,” Whiskey grumbles, pushing himself up onto his elbows. 

“Might not wanna speak too soon. He took your hat.” Tequila puts his own ten-gallon back on his head and gestures towards the door with a whistle. Whiskey growls and shoots to his feet. 

“Motherfucker! Eggsy!”

[amazingmsme]

OML I LOVE SPIES ARE FOREVER •O• do you have any headcanons specifically for Owen? He needs to be absolutely WRECKED for all the shit he pulls on Curt <3

Oh absolutely! This sassy Brit needs a taste of his own medicine!

Owen is so fucking smug he acts like he’s untouchable but Curt makes sure to put him in his place

He thinks he’s so slick & suave but if Curt wiggles his fingers at him or just looks at him a certain way he’s already giggling & protecting his sides

Even when he laughs you can tell he’s British🥹

He’s all limbs & needs to be pinned down when tickled or else you’ll get an elbow to the face

Speaking of being pinned down, Owen LOVES being pinned or restrained

Owen is a pretty even switch, but he just barely likes being on the giving end a bit more

It was absolutely Owen’s idea to start role playing during missions where they happen to meet up & he immediately resorted to tickling because he had only just recently discovered how ticklish Curt is. & this would be the funniest prank he could ever pull!

He’s all long gangly limbs so any boney part of the body is gonna be a sweet spot. His worst spots are of course his knees, hips, ribs & back but he’s surprisingly ticklish everywhere for someone so adamant that he’s not

[knismarijuana]

[dreamy sigh] ticklish tcock 🥰🥴☺️ ....

[optiwashere]

Who's weirder?

Asheera or Shadowheart?

And I mean like lol random type weirdness. Like random noises throught the cottage, sticking your tongue out playfully, talking nonsense while smiling, surprise tickle attacks, nose licks instead of booping, booping.

My bets on (but by a hair) Asheera but my siblings are undecided.

Xoxoxo

Asheera for sure. Shadowheart obviously has her beat in strange habits that turn out to be from old Sharran practices she'd completely internalized as well as bringing home 4,129,690 animals. But Asheera can cross her eyes so who's really the winner?

Though when those surprise tickle attacks get turned back on her it's all over...

Side note, but this makes my mind wander to a mid-00s scene girl Shadowheart with "Rawr XD" in her MySpace bio and an Eyes Set to Kill lyric as her AIM status.

[kanene-yaaay]

one day i will sit down and actually write all the mdzs tickle headcanons I have and then it will be all over for you guys (<3)

For the moment tho:

Lan Zhan taking his sweet time to copy all the rules of the Lan sect in Wei Ying's back. Sitting on his legs with a book in one of his hands and the other holding one the softest brushes he has, movements precise and serene as ever as he keeps his strokes the straight as possible with his husband squirming and trashing non stop under him, giggling and snickering all the teases and provocations and begging and promises he can imagine. Lan Zhan huffs in a light kind of exasperation when another character gets crooked and he has to put his book down to take the damp, fluff fabric he brough just for this and srubs the paint before he can continue. Wei Ying's laughter get just a tad more hysterical, quickly descending back into high pitches giggles as Lan Zhan dutifully goes back to his work, lips twitching into a soft kind of smile reserved just for those moments. He dips the brush in the ink and continues, almost hipnotized by the way his lover's laughter and reactions changes with every new character, but he refuses to get distracted.

There is still 2,000 of rules left to copy, after all.

~~

And since we're talking about the Lans and everything. No one can convince me that Lan Xichen is NOT simply the biggest tickle monster that ever existed. I can perfectly picture him walking calmly, kind and calm smile on his face as he follows his next prey, reminding them that it's forbbiden to run in the Cloud Recess when they realize what is about to happen and are caught in between running away anyway - not the smartest choice, he will catch you anyway even before you can blink - or staring him with wide eyes while trying to back away - also not the best choice, he is getting closer and the antecipation is a killer - OR just accept the fact that their fate is going to be a very giggly and tickly one in a few minutes. Full of teases and smiles and kind words and a sweet 'thank you for expanding my collection with all of your lovely reactions'

[doopn00p]

Pina and Tem getting their nails hooves done 💅

[intheticklecloset]

shin soukoku headcanons

I've never done headcanons like this before so please be gentle with me, I don't know what I'm doing ><

I like to think that if they were together, Akutagawa would tickle Atsushi alllll the time. For every little thing. Overslept? Tickles. Got the wrong kind of milk? Tickles. Got himself nearly killed again? Tickles, tickles, tickles. And Atsushi would constantly be on guard to the point where even a look from Aku would have him giggling in anticipation because he knows it's coming at some point.

I also like to think Akutagawa would be a merciless teaser. I'm talking everything from "look how pitiful you are, giving up so easily" to "aww, is the little tiger sensitive?" and Atsushi just loses his mind every time. He also definitely employs Rashomon to keep Atsushi from wriggling away.

Alternatively, Atsushi would probably save his tickling for instances where it's really deserved or needed, even though he does love hearing Akutagawa laugh. Aku spilled curry udon on Atsushi's shirt? Atsu tickles him until he apologizes (which he doesn't easily, of course). He insults other members of the detective agency? Tickles. He's had a really bad day and just needs some good old-fashioned cheering up? All the tickles in the world!

Atsushi's teasing would be more playful and babyish, which works wonders on Akutagawa, much to his horror. Cutesy observations and baby talk would have him covering up and melting in embarrassment, but add something crazy like affection in there, too? Absolutely no chance in hell Akutagawa is getting out unflustered.

Atsushi is only slightly more ticklish, but definitely more open about it. He isn't afraid to laugh and squirm and sometimes even just lay there and take it. Akutagawa is more of a fighter and does his best to hold back his reactions until he simply can't anymore. He also has dimples, which Atsushi finds absolutely adorable.

Tickle fights probably aren't super common; it'd be more likely that one of the two of them would dominate instantly and that would be the end of it, but overall as far as "scoring" goes they're pretty evenly matched. They each love hearing the other laugh, though only Atsushi would admit as much. <3

I hope you like this really awkward first attempt at headcanons! I'm a little nervous about posting them tbh but ya gotta start somewhere, right?

[justpostinganonymous-lee]

I love how my brain randomly decides to change favorite tickle spots before it was tummies now I'm oddly on armpits

[happyandticklish]

Does anyone else have that one character that they're desperate for content for, but it needs to be specifically fitting of the headcannons you have for them in your head or it won't satisfy that itch?

[emeriethevalkyriegirl]

This Little Spidey Piggy

A/N: So after reading @parker-fluff , @tklfluff , and many many other amazing tickle arts and writers, I got the idea to create this one! Inspired by Peter 1’s snorts (oink oink 😂)

Summary: Peter 1 gets home from school sad because he had a bad day at school. So the other Peters cheer him up by making pigs in a blanket (his fav) with a few surprises tickle attacks with it of course.

Peter 2’s tingle went off before the front door opened from his apartment. “Hey Lil Spidey!” He said, expecting a response form his youngest brother. But all he got in returned was a ‘hey’ before Peter 1 left to retreat into his room.

Peter 3, who was sitting on the couch along side Peter 2 in the living room looked confused. “Is everything okay?” He asked as Peter 2 shook his head. “I don’t know. He didn’t seem like his usual self.”

“Yeah. One would come bursting through the door when he notice us. Then he would start rambling about how much he wants pigs ‘n blanket.” Peter 2 chuckled, remembering how much he loved it when One would whine whenever he didn’t get his favorite dinner. “Maybe something happened back at school. You think we should check on him?” Peter 2 asked as Peter 3 gasped and got up on his feet. “Of course we should. What type of big brothers would we be if we didn’t?” Peter 3 held out his hand for his eldest brother to help him off the couch. Peter 2 happily accepted it and was more grateful when he didn’t comment on his old age. “Why don’t you go talk to him first. I’ll go start us some dinner.”

“Lemme guess, pigs in a blanket?”

“Pigs in a blanket.”

--------

Peter 1 slumped on his bed, burring his face in the pillow to try and stop the tears from falling down. He didn’t want his brothers to see him like this. He’s suppose to be Spider-Man. The hero of New York City. The Friendly Neighborhood Hero of his Hometown. He wasn’t suppose to break down like this. What of a hero is he if he’s like this?

Peter 1 pulled the covers up to his face and curled himself into a ball. He was just about to drift off into dream land and wake up at around dinner time, hoping the tears would stop falling by then, but his spider tingle went off and his bedroom door opened to reveal Peter 3. Peter 1 gasped quietly and pretended to be asleep.

If I stay like this, he’ll leave

Peter 3 closed the door behind him and sighed. “You do realize I can tell when you’re sleep right? I heard you crying from the living room.” he replied, walked towards the sad teenager and sitting on his bed. Peter 1 didn’t move. Just laid there in the bed. “Come on buddy, I just wanna know why you were crying that’s all.” Again, no response.

The middle child was getting impatient. And he knew just how to deal with it.

Peter 3 smirked and shrugged his arms. “Okay, if you’re not gonna tell me, I might as well finish my dinner.” Peter 1 gasped and covered his mouth. This morning, Peter 3 came into his room to wake him up for school. And how did he do that? Well, by tickling of course. He grabbed one of his feet and started to chew on his toes. The bites were gentle but it tickled like crazy. And worse, he even did the ‘This Little Piggy’ song with his toes but he changed it up to ‘This Little Spidey Piggy’. He never got to finish his meal however because One was running late for school. But now, he’s back.

And he has nowhere to go.

Faster than One could ever dread, Peter 3 grabbed one of his feet like he did last time and scooted closer to his feet so it could be more comfortable. “Ready for round two?” Peter 1 was too afraid to respond and just muffled his giggles. Unfortunately, Peter 3 was able to hear him. “Aw, are you already waiting. You’re such a good little Spidey. Yes you are. Tell you what, sense you’re waiting so patiently, I’ll start right now.” At that moment, Peter 1 tried to tug his leg from Three’s grip, but the grip was too firm.

It was too late.

Peter 3 used his index and thumb finger to wiggle his big toe. “This little spidey piggy went to market.” he said in an annoying baby voice. Peter 1 couldn’t contain his giggles and let them all out. “Gah! Nohohohoho threhehehehehehehehe stahahahahap!” Peter 3 gave his toe a kiss and moved on to the next one. “This little spidey piggy stayed home.”

“Eeeeeeehehehehehehehehehehe ahahahahahahaha!” Peter 1 squealed earning another kiss to his second toes. “This little spidey piggy had roast beef.” Peter 3 smiled when a couple of snorts escaped from his little brother’s mouth. Peter 1 stuck his tongue out but was grateful for the covers covering his face. “This little spider piggy had none.” Peter 1 knew where this was going. “NOHO PLEASE!”

“And this little spidey piggy cried...” Peter 3 pulled the covers back so Peter 1′s head was covered up but his body was exposed. Peter 3 slowly, with anticipation (and a smirk on his face), lifted his shirt up a bit and scribbled his fingers surprising the little spider. “AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA THREEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!”

“WEE WEE WEE!! All the way home.” As if on cue, Peter 1 made another snort sound. Peter 3 couldn’t help but chuckle as he pulled the covers from his brother’s face to reveal what he was searching for. A smile on his face. “There he is. There’s my little spidey.” Peter 3 said helped up Peter 1 while still recovering from his giggle shocks. Three placed him on his lap as One snuggled into his chest. “So, wanna tell me what happened?” he asked with sympathy as One sighed and told him about how the kids at school treated him like a bully again because he was so smart. “Hey, those kids ain’t got nothing on you. You’re the real deal. At the end of the day, those kids are just jealous cause they want to be as smart as you and they can’t be.” Peter 1 smiled and chuckled. “Thanks bro.”

“Any time. Little spidey!” Peter 3 said, putting his brother into a headlock to give him an all out noogie. “Hehehehehehey stahahahap iihihihihihit.”

“Bros, dinner’s ready! And stop nooging our little brother, he’ll have to use your shampoo again.” Peter 2 called from the kitchen making both little brothers laugh. “Come on One, Two made your favorite.”

“Pigs in a blanket? YES!” Peter 1 cried as he zoomed into the kitchen, Peter 3 right behind.

[amazingmsme]

i’ve become a little obsessed with your curtwen stuff do you have any more to share 🙏🙏🙏

Aww thank you, that’s so sweet! I honestly need to rewatch saf, it’s been too long since I’ve seen it! All this talk about them has made me really miss them I just wish they could’ve had a happy ending, but I guess that’s what fics are for

I can’t remember what all I’ve said, so I might repeat myself or contradict a previous headcanon, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles 🤷‍♀️

But I love the idea of Curt & Owen flirting via mock interrogations & they progressively get less realistic & more playful (& homoerotic) as time goes on & what we see at the beginning of the show definitely isn’t the first time tickling has found its way into this little game of theirs

They do the will they won’t they thing for probably way too long, but they wanted to be 100% positive they were picking up the vibes they thought they were

Ok but their first kiss was completely accidental. They were running away from someone together & they had to hide in a cramped space like a tight alley or a closet & they’re fumbling & shoving at each other & they turn their heads at the same time & next thing you know they’re fuckin’ smooching! They’re both so shy about it & can barely meet each other’s eyes & Owen just mumbles “not a bad kisser Mega” & Curt’s like “neither are you” & then they’re staring at each other blushing & all of a sudden they’re making out

Pretty sure they both found out each other was ticklish while on a job together since that’s when they spend the most time together. I think most people think Owen found out Curt was ticklish first, but just imagine with me, if you will:

Curt arrives to a job that Owen got to first, but shit hit the fan & he got caught & is being interrogated. It’s pretty early on, so he’s not too roughed up yet, & he can see Curt in the rafters & he’s both relieved & annoyed because he knows he’s gonna rub it in his face that he had to save him. Curt ends up sniping the baddies & hops down like his knight in shining armor & he goes to untie him, but Owen’s hands are tied behind the chair & his chest is tied to the back of the chair, the rope under his arms & around his ribs. So while he’s untying him, he’s squirming around & breathing a little weird & Curt’s like “quit moving so much or I’ll leave you here” & Owen snaps back “quit tickling then!” & he freezes up & Curt has the most gleeful, sinister look he’s ever seen

“What was that?” “Nothing” “no no, you said you’re ticklish?” “Really Curt, that’s what you’re taking away from all this? We need to leave!” “Why? I already killed everyone here, it’s just you & me” “Curt…” “why not have some fun?” “Mega I swear to God-“ & then Owen didn’t get another coherent sentence out for about half an hour

After that, Curt was a fucking menace & never let him live it down. He’d sneak up on him & launch a surprise tickle attack, he’ll constantly bring up how he “can’t believe” how ticklish he is, he’ll even mock his laugh & say how even his laugh sounds posh. Really, Owen had the patience of a saint & Curt really took it for granted

He bides his time, giving him a chance to back tf off with all the teasing, but one night when they’re sharing a hotel room (with only 1 bed mind you) Curt keeps tickling him & it’s really not funny because he just wants to sleep damnit! Cut it out, I mean it! & Curt goes to squeeze his hip again & all of a sudden he’s laying flat on his back with an angry, very smug Owen hovering over him & his life flashes before his eyes. He gives a nervous lil grin & tilts his head like “y-you got me, I’ll leave you alone now” & Owen’s like “oh no no no, you’ve been tormenting me for months, you’re not weaseling out of this that easy” & Curt really should learn to shut up because he doesn’t even think twice before saying “well what took you so long to snap?”

& now it’s Owen’s turn to give him an evil smile & cups his ear like “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” & Curt’s really struggling now, but Owen has him pinned pretty good & he’s sputtering out apology after apology saying how he’ll never tease him again lies & he’ll drop the whole thing. But Owen is smirking so much as he leans down & asks “Curt… now be honest… have you been doing all this hoping I’d get my revenge?” & Curt’s heart has never beat so fast in his entire life & he answers so quick he literally cuts him off by yelling “NO!” & then much cooler “no, why would I want that?” & Owen just hums “oh I don’t know, maybe because it would mean my hands would be all over you” & he waits for Curt to try to argue before striking. He miiiight have gone a bit overboard, but he had a lot of revenge to catch up on. & it’s not like he didn’t give Curt an out, he just refused to “break” to something as “stupid” as tickling, so it was really his fault. He swears his throat didn’t hurt after that brutal attack, but when they wake up the next morning his voice is shot & he can barely speak above a whisper. Of course now it’s Owen’s turn to never let him live it down. “I can’t believe you were giving me so much shit when you’re 10 times as bad as I am!”

I didn’t know this was just gonna turn into one one headcanon but I speak the truth, the whole truth, & nothing but the truth no matter how long it is so help me God