#i can perfectly imagine them in a tickle fight and his attacks are only ticklish kisses

[mayisgoingnuts]

just out of curiosity - if thin thief likes getting tickle kisses, who from?

(asking for a friend)

...

Ahem......

[sunstone-smiles]

15: Can we have a Ryuunosuke and Sholmes tickle fight? I imagine they’re fighting over the last dessert or something

The Last Jam Tart

Author’s note: Yes! My goofy and lovable Great Ace Attorney boys! I hope you all enjoy Day 15 of Tickletober: Tickle Fight! (From August's Tickletober 2023 list!)

Series: The Great Ace Attorney

Characters: Herlock Sholmes, Ryunosuke Naruhodo, and Iris Wilson

Word count: 995

Summary: There’s only one jam tart left for the taking, so Sholmes and Ryunosuke get into a competitive ‘fight’ to see who will win the last tart. 

—

Ryunosuke bites down on the flaky crust of a jam tart, enjoying the sweet strawberry flavor hitting his tongue. The little rounded tarts are the perfect size to hold, each made with extra care to create the delicate pastry.

“Mmm!” Ryunosuke finishes his mouthful. “Iris, these are delicious. Thank you!” He takes another bite to finish off the other half he had in his hand.

“Hehe! You’ve only said that about a thousand times now, Runo,” Iris giggles.

“And a thousand more thank yous will come your way, my dear Iris,” Sholmes intervenes from beside Ryunosuke. Both men occupy the red couch in the living room of the Sholmes’ Suite as they enjoy their dessert. “For these are marvelous jam tarts, baked perfectly in every way,” Sholmes continues.

“Aww! That’s sweet of you to say, Hurley! I’m glad you both like them.” The little girl swells with pride at her job well done. She gestures to the tray in front of her on the black chest they use as a coffee table. A single jam tart that seems to sparkle in the gleam of the room lights sits alone on the tray. “There’s one more if anyone would like it.”

“I’ll have it,” Ryunosuke and Sholmes say at the same time. The two men exchange looks with each other.

“Well, it seems we have come to a crossroad, Mr. Naruhodo,” Sholmes says. “In that case, we must have a fair fight to see who will win the last jam tart.”

“What?” Ryunosuke’s voice heightens with confusion, “Mr. Sholmes, surely you’re not going to challenge me in combat over a jam tart?”

“Oh, but that is precisely what I plan to do,” Shomes responds with a smile. “En garde, Mr. Naruhodo. The fight starts…Now!”

Before Ryunosuke can properly process Sholmes’s declaration for battle, the great detective lunges at Ryunosuke and tackles him to the arm of the couch. Fingers then quickly dart towards his sides—tickling Ryunosuke through the fabric of his dress shirt. 

“H-Hehehey!” Ryunosuke jolts and bursts into giggles, his legs kicking out from the surprise attack. He leans his head back and shoves at his opponent, “Mr. Shohoholmes!” So this is what the great detective meant about going to combat over the last jam tart; he was declaring a tickle fight!

“I see you’ve figured out my strategy, Mr. Naruhodo!” the great detective mentions as if they were simply continuing the flow of their conversation, “So, the first one that can make the other surrender is the winner! Agreed?”

One would think that the two opponents would come to an agreement before the battle actually started, but at least this is a fight Ryunosuke has a chance in!

“Yohohou’re ohohon!” Ryunosuke exclaims through his laughter. As a counter strike, the lawyer lunges his arms towards Sholmes’ ribs.

Sholmes harks out a laugh and grips Ryunosuke’s scribbling fingers at his ribs. With Sholmes now on the defensive, Ryunouske pushes him over, causing Sholmes to flop onto his back on the other end of the couch. Ryunosuke quickly pounces at him and scribbles his fingers into Sholmes’ ribs again. Now it’s the great detective’s turn to burst into giggles. Herlock clamps his arms down in reflex before grabbing the lawyer’s wrists, but Ryunosuke easily slips out of his grasp. He then switches to clawing at Sholmes’ belly, causing the great detective’s back to arch with a giggly yelp and his arms to flail across his middle as a line of defense.

“This is the game you wanted to play Mr. Sholmes!” Ryunosuke grins, knowing he hit an extra ticklish spot on the detective. “So, do you yield?”

Sholmes controls his flailing limbs and uses them to tug himself backwards, so that he can prop himself somewhat upright on the arm of the couch. Ryunosuke still hones in on his belly, while Sholmes returns to latching onto the lawyer’s wrists. “Dohohon’t count me ohohout just yehehehet!” Sholmes laughs. 

Fighting back, Sholmes finds an opening and launches a hand at Ryunosuke’s ribs, like he was delivering a tickly punch. The lawyer squeaks and reals to the side, almost falling off the couch. When he turns to stabilize himself, Sholmes recaptures the upper hand by swooping in behind Ryunosuke and drilling into his ribs.

“AH! Nohohohot the ribs!!!” Ryunosuke playfully flails his arms in Sholmes’ hook-like hold.

Sholmes grins over the lawyer's shoulder, “How about you? Do you surrender now Mr. Naruhodo?”

Ryunosuke’s answer is a scribble into Sholmes’ belly again. Sholmes flinches and tries not to yield his effective attack on Ryunosuke, but the ticklish fluttering at his middle allows Ryunosuke the wiggle room he needed to send Sholmes face planting into the cushions. 

As neither Ryunosuke or Sholmes seems to be in the mood to surrender, Iris—who’s been giggling as she watches them—decides to take the initiative. She goes to the kitchen and grabs a butter knife, then returns to the tray on the chest. She cuts the jam tart in two, near perfect halfs. “Runo! Hurley!” she calls out to them over their laughter to gain their attention. 

The two men look to Iris and pause their tickle fight in its tracks. With the break, they both collect their breathing, especially Ryunosuke, who was on the receiving end of the tickles when she stopped them.

Iris gestures to the tray, “Why don’t you two just call it a draw and share?”

“Yes, a draw! We can share the last tart,” Shomes repeats in agreement. “Why didn't we think of that before hand, Mr. Naruhodo?”

“Maybe we would have if you didn’t tackle me down to tickle me first,” Ryunosuke responds.

“Ah, well no use dwelling on the past now,” Sholmes replies. Ryunosuke rolls his eyes, but smiles at his friend. The two untangle themselves from the tickle fight and scoot over to their original spots on the couch. They then each take one half of the jam tart and enjoy the final pieces of treat together.

[why-not-a-tickle-blog]

I was wondering if you could do something where Virgil gets stuck somewhere and the twins find him and team up to take advantage of the situation? Thank you in advance, your work is amazing!

Warning: Intense tickles, maybe you could say bondage? It’s just the rope trap and Virgil’s own shirt

Of all the things to happen in the imagination. And of all the people for them to happen to, it happened to be Anxiety, caught in a trap.

It was a simple rope trap, snagging his ankles and jerking him upside down, hidden well enough that even with all his wariness he hadn’t seen it.

“I don’t even hardly go in the imagination and then the one time I do I get stuck,” Virgil grumbled.

He’d tried to get out, twisting and thrashing and grabbing, but it didn’t do any good. He was lucky he wasn’t human, or the blood rush to his head would’ve become painful. As it was, he was just exhausted from thrashing and very very bored of being stuck.

And then he heard footsteps.

His heart beat faster, worried that the Hunter had arrived. He wasn’t sure what the imaginary hunter might do, but he was still more than nervous.

“Ohhh~ look what we have here~” a very familiar voice said.

“Remus,” Virgil sighed, relieved. “I’m glad you’re here, can you let me down?”

Remus walked around in front of him. “But I caught you~”

Remus made a summoning motion, and Roman rose up. “Look what I caught, Ro~ weren’t you just saying earlier you wished you could find someone a little stuck for a few pokes~?”

A few pokes… Virgil’s face went red and he covered his stomach.

Roman grinned at his reaction. “I did say that, didn’t I? Maybe there’s a reason this little Stormcloud let himself get caught, hmm?”

“I-I didn’t! Not for— not on purpose!” And he hadn’t, truly, had anything of the kind in mind when he’d wandered into the imagination. Now though, presented with two grinning Lers, butterflies were growing in his belly.

Remus sat down in front of Virgil’s face, tugging surprisingly gently at his arms. Virgil had already spent his energy on thrashing earlier, and didn’t have much fight left in him to resist. His arms were pulled down, so they dangled straight, which made his shirt flip up over his face.

Roman moved his shirt so he could look him in the eyes, more serious now. “You can say no, now or anytime.”

Virgil blushed at having to admit he wanted to be tickled now, even just by not saying no. “Thanks,” he mumbled, biting his lip.

Roman grinned, evil and hungry looking, dropping Virgil’s shirt to cover his face again.

Virgil squirmed, the skin on his exposed torso tingling in anticipation. Remus held both his wrists easily in one hand, leaving three hands and a whole imagination’s worth of tools ready to tickle Virgil at any moment.

Fingers lightly touched his ribs, and Virgil jolted and squeaked.

There was a dark chuckle from one of the twins.

The fingers scribbled lightly, and Virgil burst into giggles.

“I want to keep him forever~” Remus said. “He’s mine, I caught him, and I get to tickle him for ever and ever, hours at a time~”

Virgil squealed as the scribbling fingers reached one armpit and scribbled even faster.

“I love the idea~ so long as you share your prize sometimes~” Roman teased.

Virgil felt two hands grip his hips, and squirmed hard, his giggles ratcheting up to laughter just from the anticipation of tickles on his hips and belly. The two hands held him still as a long, loud raspberry was blown directly onto his bellybutton.

Virgil squealed and laughed helplessly, already his squirming not working to help him, as tired as his muscles were and weak from laughter.

Remus seemed to understand how incapable he was of protecting his weak points, and let go of his wrists, attacking both armpits at once.

Virgil cackled and laughed, squealing again when Roman blew another raspberry on his belly.

Roman squeezed and scribbled at his hips, blowing many small raspberries all over his belly. Remus’s hands crawled up to taze his ribs, and Virgil was lost in laughter, tears of mirth leaking from the corners of his eyes.

Then they stopped, both at the same time, letting Virgil catch his breath.

“I have a game for you~” Roman said. “Guess correctly where we tickle next, and you get a little break. Guess incorrectly, and we tickle you till you squeal~”

Virgil wouldn’t know. He couldn’t see past his shirt. He was going to get so tickled, he knew it. Excitement bubbled up in him, nearly making him giggle even without any tickles.

“My turn first then!” Remus said, sounding as excited as Virgil was. “Where am I gonna tickle, giggly darkling~?”

Virgil’s mind went to the sensation of Remus’s fingers in his armpits, and on his ribs, and his sides, and each spot tingled, nearly tickling already. He didn’t know. Didn’t have a way of knowing.

“Come on, you can guess~” Remus teased. “It’ll only tickle so much when you get it wrong~”

Virgil could barely keep the giggles at bay. “A-armpits.”

“Wrong!” Remus said gleefully, tazing and scribbling at Virgil’s ribs.

Virgil laughed and squirmed, jolts of tickly sensation running through him. And then Remus started nuzzling, his mustache rubbing against the sensitive skin on one side, while both his hands were free to taze into the other. Virgil squealed, trying to push Remus away, but his arms were far too weak.

A few more seconds that felt more like hours later, Remus stopped, rubbing soothingly as Virgil hiccuped and giggled, trying to get his breath back.

“Where will I tickle you~?” Roman asked, before Virgil had gotten his breath back.

That was right, the correct guesses were for breaks. He was glad they still paused for a little, rather than Roman asking while he was still laughing his head off.

“Behehelly,” Virgil guessed.

“Nope~!” Roman said.

Virgil wasn’t sure then where he was going to go. Belly was a wide guess, even sides and hips were sort of counted in it.

And then a hand squeezed at his thigh. Virgil yelped embarrassingly loudly.

“Surprised you with a tickly spot~” Roman cooed. “Get ready to squeal~”

Roman scribbled lightly along the backs of Virgil’s thighs, and Virgil couldn’t help laughing. But then he squeezed again, just above his knee on his left leg, and finding that awful horrible amazingly ticklish tendon on the right.

Virgil squealed and shrieked in laughter, his body jerking with more energy than he thought he had left. Roman kept going a bit longer than Remus had after the first squeal, and when he finally stopped Virgil went nearly limp, gasping for air.

“You ready to be done?” Remus whispered in a more serious tone.

“Can—“ Virgil gasped. “After a break… can I have more belly tickles.. before done? A— a lot?”

He was glad for the shirt hiding his face, as he blushed dark.

Remus hugged him suddenly. “We’d love to.”

“Awwww~” Roman cooed. “Such a tickle-hungry lee~”

Virgil blushed even darker.

“Since the lee wants a lot, I want to use tools!” Remus said excitedly.

“Oh yes~” Roman agreed. “Brushy tools particularly~”

Virgil squirmed, barely biting back the whine.

“What if one of us tickles the belly, and the other gets to focus all their attention on the button~?” Remus asked.

Roman’s chuckle was pure evil. “Yes.”

Virgil did whine that time. “Don’t tease!”

“Don’t tease~?” Roman asked. “Us, not teasing our sweet captured lee? Impossible~”

“It makes all the tickles tickle more, doesn’t it~?” Remus said knowingly. “So when we scribble at your belly it’ll be all tingly and ready to burst with laughs and giggles~! It’s so perfectly stretched out for us too~ with no way of getting away or curling up~ just waiting for us to play with it just how we like~”

Virgil whined and squirmed.

“I think if he’s able to whine he’s able to be tickled, don’t you?” Roman asked.

“Oh yes!” Remus agreed, and suddenly Virgil could hear the sound of buzzing.

He squirmed and whined, twisting back and forth.

Hands grabbed his hips again. “I guess I’ll have to use some magic to tickle the button, if I have to hold you still~” Remus teased.

Something liquid touched his belly, and Virgil gasped. A hand spread the oil slowly over his belly and poked into his bellybutton, making him squeak.

“You ready for a lot of tickles~?” Roman teased. “Actually wait~” he bent down and tapped Virgil’s chest and his throat gently. “Don’t want you running out of air, and now you can’t!”

They were going to tickle him till he went insane!

“The little button gets the first tickle~” Remus said, brushing circles around Virgil’s bellybutton with an electric toothbrush as Virgil shrieked with laughter.

Roman scribbled around the rest of his belly and sides, often blowing raspberries.

Remus quickly went from circling to dipping the brush into Virgil’s bellybutton.

Virgil couldn’t stand it! It tickled so bad! It was like his brain floated away from his body, leaving only sensation and laughter. Squeals and shrieks were pulled from him by the two tormenting his belly. He never wanted it to stop. Nothing mattered in the slightest except the fireworks of tickles constantly being set off. He didn’t even have to worry about catching his breath.

And then Roman decided it was his turn to start using electric toothbrushes, far more than two hands could hold, and Remus was also squeezing sporadically at Virgil’s hips.

All his laughter became a silent scream, the sensations starting to blend together, his whole belly a tickle spot.

He managed to bump one arm against Roman’s leg.

The two stopped immediately. Remus rubbed his belly gently, and Roman helped to very gently and carefully get him down.

The forest faded away, replaced by a cool, dim room and a very soft bed.

Virgil felt all glowy, still riding the high from all the tickles. One of them offered him some water, and the other laid beside him, rubbing gently up and down his arms.

“Did you have fun?” Roman asked quietly, his tone hesitant and almost worried.

“So much fun,” Virgil said, a grin still on his face as he hugged Roman.

Remus hopped into the bed behind him, hugging also and running his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“If I get this kind of treatment every time, I’ll start looking for traps in the imagination…” Virgil said sleepily.

“I’ll make some just for you,” Remus said immediately. “Anytime you want.”

Virgil leaned his head into Remus’s hand, weakly tugging Roman a bit closer. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Roman’s knuckles brushed against his cheek. “You can sleep, Emo.”

Virgil drifted off, still floaty and happy. “You two are the best…”

[cantsaythetword]

Let Nature Take It’s Course!

~A/N  - HALLO!

Damn I’ve been back to writing a lot today. This one is from a while back when me and one of my best friends (thegirlIhavebeencrushingonforlike2yearsnow) were at her place watching stuff and started messing around with one of those head massager things 

(these things

you know the ones)

and just TWORDY TIMES HAPPENED.

So of course I turned it into a fic, with a little added bit at the end for something I nglreallywishhappenedbutohwell...

Also this is my first MJ and Peter fic (i think)! So lemme know if y’all like it. 

Love you all, I am proud of you, you are doing great <3

- Enoy! ~

When Peter had agreed to a late night study session, he never expected this.

To be at MJ’s house, 5 hours later, watching wild, wacky, and wonderful youtube videos at 3 O’Clock in the morning. 

Yup. They had entered a spiral into the weird side of youtube. And they weren’t getting out of it any time soon. Sure, the first few hours had been productive. They had snacks, laptops out, tea, everything they needed for a night of assignment writing and content memorising. But now, well... They had just finished a video about the Pompeii explosion, and the youtube algorithm had decided that the Bermuda Triangle would be next.

Of course. That’s a logical progression. 

In preparation of the next 10 minutes of mind blowing conspiracies, MJ had decided to get comfy. Meaninglessly lying back against her best friend’s chest.

The best friend in question, however, found this anything but meaningless.

Peter’s heart began to race. Having MJ so close to him was both comforting and exhilarating. His hands grew sweaty, knees weak (arms are heav- ok I’m sorry I’ll stop...), and he just couldn’t concentrate on the video playing in front of him. His thoughts and eyes would just continually drift back to the girl beside him. Something about her kept her in his head, over and over again she ricocheted in his mind like a game of ping pong. And nothing he could would stop it.

In an attempt to stop himself staring at his crush, he let his eyes wander around her bedroom. Not in a creepy way, of course, just to distract himself enough so he didn’t disturb her (or draw attention to himself). It was only the second time Peter had been in MJ’s house, after all, and he couldn’t help but have a bit of a look around.

There was the regular things - posters, pictures of family and friends, jackets, etc. etc., all stuff you’d expect to find in someone’s room.

Then there was the slightly stranger stuff. Like the toy cat they had found for a Halloween costume a year earlier. Or the giraffe onesie that matched Peter's which she had found for a PJ party.  

But none of that was what interested Peter, oh no. As his eyes locked on to a rather interesting object in MJ’s hairbrush holder, he nonchalantly reached over to grab it. It was time for some fun, and thankfully MJ didn’t realise what he was up to. 

With the poise and grace of a... graceful person... he slowly brought his arm back towards him and held the head scratcher over MJ’s relaxed form. Lining up the spokes around her head, he brought it down slowly onto her. 

Oh this was even better than he had imagined.

Her body seemed to seize up immediately, eyes scrunching shut in an adorable grimace, and he could tell there was a threat of giggles gathering in her throat. He gently raised and lowered it a few times, each movement causing her to jerk and shudder in a more entertaining and endearing manner, the smile never leaving her face. 

“Peheh- Pete...” She winced and gasped with each tickly motion. “Cuhu- cut ihit- OUt!”

Eventually he gave her a moment of repose, and she shoved his hands away and gave him a glare.  

“Peter.” She said in a threatening tone, but the boy was way too giddy with himself to notice. 

”What?” He grinned. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Oh, how about you try it then?”

Peter’s face morphed from a teasing smirk to a nervous, open-mouthed smile. He shook his head repeatedly, continuously moving the hand holding the head scratcher so MJ couldn’t grab it off him. The shit-eating grin returned, however, when she gave up and sat back upright to face him.

“Not so brave now are you?” She huffed, giving him a jab to the ribs.

Uh oh.

With the singular small squeak and dramatic flinch, Peter had just signed himself up for a whole world of trouble. And from the look in MJ’s eyes, she wasn’t looking for a further invitation.

Shit.

She dove onto Peter, forcing him onto his back against the mattress, and began to squeeze her hands into his sides.

He gasped and shrieked, making every effort to stay quiet and not give in to his bubbling laughter, the last thing he wanted was to wake her parents. 

“Come on Peter!” She teased in a sing-songy voice. “It can’t be thaaaat bad.”

“Shuhuhut uHUp!” He squeaked, giggles pouring out of his mouth despite his best efforts to stop them. 

Her fingers were like little tickle machines, perfectly dancing over his ribs in the most torturous way possible, and there was nothing Peter could do about it. Sure he could fight off 5 bad guys at a time with his hands behind his back, but the second anyone wriggled a hand at him he was curled up in the fetal position laughing his head off. 

Ribs, tummy, sides, hips, they all blended into one agonisingly sensitive zone as MJ continued her relentless attack. Once she felt Peter was sufficiently tickled out, she grabbed the head scratcher out of his hand and held it in front of her threateningly. 

“Nononono MJ please!” Peter begged, giggles still getting out of his system. “I can’t tAKE IHIHIT!” 

MJ wasn’t going to take no for an answer, 

Managing to scratch at his head, causing hilarious sputters and squirms out of Peter, she let out a chuckle of her own. Bringing his hands up to block another onslaught, she resorted to another target.

Oh boy was that a good choice.

If Peter’s head was ticklish, his knee was even worse. His leg kicked out and spasmed with every slight movement, and she had managed to land herself on top of his thigh so could easily keep him pinned while torturing him.

Through his teary-eyed laughter, Peter latched into MJ’s armpits, sending her tumbling to the side of him and giving him the opportunity to grab the massager of doom. 

“My turn!” He said through gulps of air, laying on her legs and slowly trailing the scratcher down the sides of her knee. 

She squealed and thrashed behind him but he refused to let go. When her arm got caught underneath him, he moved on to her elbow. Sawing the spokes up and down the length of her arm. While it wasn’t as bad as her knee, it still tickled like crazy, causing her hand to flail around as he moved. 

“Got you now!” He grinned cockily.

Perhaps a little too cockily. 

In his over-confident state, he released some of the pressure keeping MJ trapped, giving her the opportunity to escape his clutches, grab the scratcher, and shove it down onto his shoulder. 

The tingly, tickly sensations shot down his chest and over his back, his body practically vibrating like she had just shot him with a tazer. He collapsed into her and giggled helplessly as she cooed down at him.

“Awwww, someone a little ticklish here huh?” She smirked, adding her fingernails against his neck to increase the sensation. 

His head slammed down towards his shoulder, but it couldn’t block out the sensations. It was just too much, and he was just lying there taking it. He had to act fast if he wanted revenge before he was too tired to do anything. 

Quickly spinning himself around, he sat himself up and readied for battle. Both of them with hands outstretched in claws, waiting for the right time to strike. Peter went first, aiming to tickle all over her exposed neck. She squeaked, shoving her hands into his now wide-open armpits. The two were locked in a tickly tangle, both fighting to ensure the other’s surrender. 

As MJ reached with one hand for the head scratcher, Peter kicked off the bed to get a better angle of attack, and the pair of them went tumbling off the side of the bed.

Landing with a soft “oof”, Peter looked down to realise he was now on top of a still giggly MJ. 

“Sorry...” He blushed, frozen in both embarrassment and infatuation. He broke eye contact for a while, wondering how best to approach the situation. Before he had a chance to think, however, something grabbed at his shirt. The collar tugged his neck downwards, head lowering towards the ground, his eyes turned to face the girl below him and OH MY GOD...!

MJ’s lips met his.

Though it lasted for mere seconds, Peter could feel his body exploding like fireworks. Electricity zapping through his veins, fogging up his brain and relaxing every bone in his body. As she pulled away and he opened his eyes, it was like the room had been blasted with a bright light. There was a shine in his gaze, adoration reflecting through his pupils. He gently brushed the hair from her face and smiled down at her, before lowering his head for another soft kiss.

He fell right into her trap.

As their lips connected, MJ slowly reached for her weapon and plunged it through Peter’s soft, mossy brown curls. She could feel his mouth contort into a helpless giggle of betrayal as he pulled away and fell to her right. He playfully batted her hand away and sat upright to recover.

“You jerk.” He laughed, giving her a playful shove.

“You started it, asshole.” She smirked, shoving him right back. 

The pair locked eyes for a moment, a spark flickering between them, before launching into another round of tickle attacks again.

Ah, young love.

[oliviaischillin1204]

t2eb, day 31: “go nuts”

[aka “i have no self control and this now must go under a cut bc it is a) 6440 words of ridiculousness, and b) 100% self-indulgent”. thanks for sticking around, y’all. love ya, mwah]

It was a normal day in the Mind Palace. Patton and Virgil were cooking in the kitchen (well, Patton was cooking; Virgil was sitting on the counter and showing him memes on his phone), while Logan and Roman were resting in the living room (they had started out on opposite ends of the couch, but somehow had come together until Roman was lying against Logan’s chest, perfectly content to nap in that position for the rest of the afternoon.

Yeah, it was a very normal day in the Mind Palace. But not for long.

Logan couldn’t honestly tell you what was had started his playful mood. Maybe it was the way Virgil had come downstairs with no hoodie, one of the rare signs that he was feeling comfortable with physical touch today. Maybe it was the way Patton’s humming and singing as he cooked started to sound more and more like the nursery rhymes they were all so familiar with. Maybe it was the way Roman was nestled against his chest, looking so calm and so content, and yet all Logan could imagine was tickling him to tears.

He smiled softly, and he began moving the hand that was resting on Roman’s stomach in small, not-so-tickly circles. While he kept his gaze on his book, he took note of the way the Roman shifted subtly under his palm, crinkling his brow just a bit in his half-asleep state.

“Logan,” Roman warned lowly.

Logan pretended not to hear him, instead allowing his fingers to drift even lower on his stomach, giving a quick scratch below his belly button to make him jump.

“Logan!”

“Hm?” Logan finally replied, casually shifting his gaze from his book to Roman’s pout. “Can I help you, Roman?”

Roman huffed, the beginnings of a blush lighting his face. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” As Logan spoke, his hand sped up, moving to scratch all around Roman’s trapped tummy. Roman squeaked, pushing himself backwards to escape the tickles, but all that did was trap him even closer against Logan’s chest.

“Loga-an!” he insisted, fighting hard to keep his laughter out of his voice.

“Stop what?” Logan repeated, leaning down to graze his lips against the shell of Roman’s ear. “Stop what, Roman? I can’t stop unless you use your words.”

His breath against Roman’s neck, plus the teasing lilt of his voice, made the creative side squeal softly and try to scrunch his neck up.

“Why?” was all he could manage, his voice a high pitched whine.

Logan hummed in consideration. “Because I’m feeling particularly happy today,” he answered honestly. Roman stopped squirming for a moment as an ‘aww’ fell from his lips, smiling at Logan fondly.

Logan quirked a brow. “And you know what would make me even happier?”

He felt Roman freeze against his chest. When he spoke, his voice was low with anticipation, and his smile now had a nervous tinge to it.

“Tickle fight?”

Logan smirked. “Tickle fight.” And with that, he blew a large raspberry right where Roman’s neck met his shoulder, and the creative side gasped, slamming a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“Why aren’t you laughing, Roman?” Logan asked, desperately fighting to keep Roman pinned against his chest. He knew he couldn’t hold him back for long, so he focused on breaking his resolve as quickly as possible. “If you’re not laughing, then this must not tickle. Do you want me to-”

He reached for Roman’s thigh, only getting one good squeeze in before Roman squawked, launching both of them onto the floor at an impressive speed.

They grabbled for a moment, but it was no use: Logan was quickly pinned underneath Roman’s weight on his hips, smirking down at him with a dangerous expression.

“I hope it was worth it,” was all he said before shooting both hands in to wildly scribble at Logan’s tummy.

Logan broke immediately, releasing a stream of high pitched giggles as he desperately batted at Roman’s quick hands.

“Ahahahahahahaha- Romahahahahahan!” he cried, but other than that made no move to actually stop him. Roman grinned. He loved how easy it was to make Logan break.

“Oh, Logan, you like experiments, right?” he asked brightly. “Can you help me with one? Does it tickle more when I do this-”

He trailed his nails all along Logan’s skin, from the bottom of his ribs to the top of his pantline, scritching and skittering the lightest tickles he could manage. Logan’s giggles came even faster, throwing his torso back and forth in an attempt to escape.

“-Or this?” Roman finished, abruptly switching to squeezing as much of Logan’s pudgy tummy as he could grab. Logan screamed, especially when Roman began twisting one finger into his bellybutton.

“Nohohohoho! Rohohoh- Rohohohomahahahan, plehehehehease!”

Roman chuckled at the other side’s dramatics.

“Oh, calm down, Specs. This isn’t even your worst spot!”

Logan refused to reply, or maybe he was more ticklish on his stomach than Roman remembered, because his giggles only starting coming faster and higher pitched. His eyes, which had been frantically darting around as he looked for an escape, finally managed to focus on something behind Roman.

“Hehehehehelp- Virgihihihil!”

Roman’s eyes widened, and a quick glance behind him confirmed that the anxious side had made his way to the living room, and was now watching them on the ground with barely concealed amusement.

“So that’s why it got so loud in here, huh?”

Roman grinned. “Hey, Virgil, can I get a hand here? Mine are kinda full.” As he spoke, he began drilling his thumbs into Logan’s tummy, sending him further into desperate laughter.

Virgil looked between the two of them for a second. He put a hand to his chin, pretending to be deep in thought.

“Yeah, I could help you, Roman,” he pondered, ignoring Logan’s pleading for help below him. “Or...”

His eyes glinted, and before Roman or Logan could react, Virgil called, “Hey, Patton! Can we get some help in here?”

Logan gasped. “Nohohohohoho!”

Eyes wide with delight, Roman grinned at Virgil. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea, Virge!” Already his mind was buzzing with all the ways Patton, the Mind Palace’s other tickle monster, could help him. Two lers meant one could pin a lee’s arms while the other went to town on their tummy; one could focus on the upper body and one could focus on the lower body; plus, even Roman had to admit that Patton was the best teaser in the Mind Palace, and the thought of him using that talent on Logan was incredibly enticing.

He was so caught up in imagining the tag team tickles he and Patton would give to Logan, that he didn’t notice when Patton entered the room behind him.

“Oh!” Patton gasped, turning to Virgil with a light in his eyes. “Are we having a tickle fight?”

He wiggled his fingers towards Virgil’s stomach, but Virgil merely batted him away with a laugh and blush.

“Actually, uh,” he started, “They both asked for help, so I wanted to ask you...”

His eyes narrowed, and as he jerked his head in Roman and Logan’s direction, he continued, “Whose side are we on?”

Patton looked from Virgil to the others and back again. His smile grew, and he nodded at Virgil, moving to creep up behind Roman, who was still totally distracting with tickling Logan.

“You should probably give Logan a break, Roman,” Patton said sweetly, and after giving Logan’s stomach one more good squeeze, Roman relented, sitting back to admire the thoroughly giggly side below him.

“Go ahead and catch your breath, Teach,” Roman cooed. “Because I-”

He was cut off as Patton grabbed him from behind, pulling him off of Logan and onto the floor, where Patton easily straddled Roman.

“Roman,” Patton said with as much sterness as he could muster, “Did you give Logan a surprise tickle attack? That’s not very nice!”

Roman blinked in confusion. He shook his head, indignant. “What? No! Logan started it!”

Patton shot a look at Logan, who was curled up on his side and still giggling his head off. He turned back to Roman.

“It looks like Logan is all tickled out for right now, but I think someone else needs a little punishment,” he teased. Roman’s eyes widened, and over Patton’s shoulder, Logan was now sitting up, smirking at him smugly.

“But- not fair!” Roman sputtered. “Logan-”

“Was minding his own business until you got him all riled up, yes, we know,” Virgil interjected. He, of course, suspected Logan wasn’t quite as innocent as Patton may have believed, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna let this opportunity to wreck Roman pass him by.

Kneeling to the ground, he managed to grab both of Roman’s wrists and pinned them to the ground. Smiling over Roman’s face, he continued, “Aren’t you so glad Pat and I are here to help?”

Roman flushed. He tugged on his arms, but Virgil’s grip was secure.

“Please,” he started, a nervous smile forming on his face, “please, please, I didn’t do anything!”

Patton ignored him, instead looking to Virgil over his head.

“Where do you think I should go first, Virge?” he asked, skimming a hand over Roman’s trapped torso and making him squirm. “I mean, I know our little Prince is ticklish all over, but it’s so hard to choose! His tummy! His neck! His thighs! What do you think?”

Virgil hummed, looking down at Roman’s flustered, semi-murderous expression.

“You should probably go for his sides first, Patton,” he responded oh-so helpfully. “He’s super ticklish there, right, Roman?”

Roman clamped his mouth shut, but he couldn’t hide his bright smile as Patton began walking his fingers up and down his sides, paying a special amount of attention to the divot at his waistline.

“No! I’m not- not ticklish!” he managed, despite letting out little huffs of breath as he felt Patton scratch his fingernails against the soft skin.

Patton’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Not ticklish? Not ticklish at all?”

His fingers stilled, and Roman took a few quick breaths, shaking his head.

“Nope! Not at all, not ti-icklish no please!”

Patton quirked his head, the picture of innocent confusion as he began squeezing up and down Roman’s sides. “But you’re not ticklish, Roman! You’re so big and strong, there’s no way you have such a silly weakness.”

His hands moved up and down the skin, not hesitating to curl his fingers around to scratch at Roman’s back while his thumbs wiggling into his tummy. Roman bit his lip, throwing his head back and forth as he felt the laughter threatening to burst from his throat.

Patton finally stopped, allowing Romn to take a few deep breaths before locking eyes with him again.

“See? Not ticklish,” Roman insisted.

Patton nodded seriously. “Oh, of course. Not ticklish.”

The two held eye contact for a few seconds before Patton’s hands started to move- he reached behind himself, latching onto Roman’s thighs. Roman tensed.

“Still not ticklish?” Patton asked casually. Roman chest shook with barely concealed giggles. He took one more deep breath and opened his mouth to respond.

“Not- ahahahahahaha! Nohohohoho! Not thehehehehere!”

Patton quirked his head again, a teasy smile gracing his lips. “Why are you laughing, Ro-Ro? You’re not ticklish, right? Even if I tickle-tickle these cute little thighs, right? Aw, Roman, you’re such a big boy, of course you’re not ticklish!” His coos were awful, and Roman whined through his laughter, wishing he could hide his burning face.

His hands shifted to flutter his fingers on the soft skin of Roman’s inner thighs, and he bucked wildly, desperate to throw Patton off.

“Please- ahahahahaha- not there!”

“Not here? Okay!” Patton didn’t hesitate before shooting his hands upward to squeeze at his sides yet again, ruthlessly accurate.

Roman gasped with laughter, tugging even harder against Virgil’s grip. “No, no, no, nonono-”

“Yes, yes, yes yes yes!” Virgil replied, smirking at Roman’s growing panic. “Patton, don’t you think his armpits look a little lonely?”

Roman shook his head, but Patton smiled widely at Virgil.

“I was just thinking that, kiddo!” And with that, Patton began slowly spidering his fingers up Roman’s sides.

“Here they come, Roman,” Patton sang. “My wiggly, tickly claws are gonna make you laugh and laugh and laugh...”

“No!” Roman screamed, turning his body as much as he could. “Pat! No! I cahahahan’t- can’t take it!”

Patton giggled, melodious and sweet. “Sure you can! Just be a good boy and keep those arms up nice and high for me, okay?”

With one great scream, Roman yanked his arms out of Virgil’s grasp, slamming them down to his sides... just in time for Patton’s fingers to find their way into his hollows.

“Nohohohohoho! P- Pat- Patton!” Roman screamed, throwing his head back and writhing on the ground underneath Patton’s touch.

Patton pretended to gasp as he cooed, “Oh no! My hands are stuck!” His playful smile turned predatory as he sighed and said, “I guess I’m just gonna have to keep tickling you until you let them go, huh, Ro-Ro?”

Roman gasped, head weakly falling against the floor as Patton began scratching his fingernails all around Roman’s hollows.

Virgil smiled smugly, leaning over Roman’s laughing face as he taunted, “Well, that was pretty stupid of you, wasn’t it, Princey?”

Bright peals of laughter were Roman’s only response, because Patton’s fingers wiggling inside his armpits were somehow ten times more ticklish than when his arms were up. But despite knowing this, Roman could not make himself lift his arms again, keeping him in what was basically a ticklish hell.

Logan sat back and watched. Seeing Roman get tickled by the Mind Palace’s worst tickle monster was incredibly satisfying, but he couldn’t deny that he still wanted to play. His eyes drifted from Roman and Patton, to Virgil, who was merely watching the two of them with a cocky smile.

Virgil tsked as he stood up, eyeing down at the giggly creative side below him.

“I guess if you don’t want me holding your arms up, I can go ahead and get started on your feet-”

He cut himself off as he felt Logan grab his arm, pulling him off balance as he stumbled backwards into his solid chest.

“I’m sorry, did you think you were safe?” Logan said lowly in his ear, breath warm and tickly.

Virgil’s eyes widened. “What- you son of a bitch, I saved you!” His harsh words were slightly weakened by the fact that his mouth was turning up in a nervous smile, and his cheeks were quickly growing pinker, and his voice was a little too high pitched to be scary.

“And I thank you for that,” Logan replied stomberly, before he smirked. “And now it’s your turn, Virgil.”

He dove in to press a kiss on the back of Virgil’s neck, and the emo side couldn’t hide the squeal that escaped from his lips. He heard Logan chuckle lowly behind him, blowing warm air all over Virgil’s senstive ears, before pressing three more kisses right behind his earlobe.

Virgil jerked away from the tingly sensation, but Logan only followed him, and the two wrestled each other for the upper hand. Virgil squeezed Logan’s hip, making him jerk away with a yelp, but all Logan had to do was claw his fingers around Virgil’s belly, and the anxious side went down to the ground, Logan easily straddling his waist and pinning his hands below his knees.

“Please, Logan, please, you don’t have to do this-” Virgil begged, unable to stop his body from wiggling as Logan slowly rolled up his t-shirt to exposed his bare belly.

“Oh, I know I don’t have to do this,” Logan replied, giving Virgil a look that sent shivers down his spine. “But please understand, I want to do this. Very, very much.”

Virgil gasped as he felt fingers skittering up and down his sides, lightly scratching at his ribs. He giggled, leaning his body as far away from the touches as he could manage- which was, unfortunately, not very far.

“Virgil, how much do you know about anatomy?” Logan asked airily. Virgil’s eyes widened, and he shook his head wildly.

“No! No! Nohohoho, plehehehease-”

“So you don’t know anything about it?” Logan interrupted, eyes flashing with something dangerous. “Well, let this be your first lesson.”

He grazed his fingers up and down Virgil’s ribcage, and Virgil gasped, frozen in delighted shock for just a moment before falling into wild giggles.

“The human body has 24 ribs,” Logan stated, speaking loudly to be heard over Virgil’s laughter. “Would you like me to count yours?”

“No! No cohohohounting- hey!” Virgil’s protests ended with a squeak as Logan started wiggling his two index fingers against both of his lowest ribs.

“Oh, come now,” Logan chirped. “Here, I’ll even make it easy for you and count by twos. Let’s see now, there’s two... four... six...”

As he counted, he moved his fingers up a row, taking his time to prod his fingers all over and in between each bone on either side of Virgil’s ribcage. Virgil gasped and held his breath. He knew this game. He would not move. He would not move. He-

Logan wiggled his fingers on one specific spot halfway up Virgil’s ribcage, and Virgil had no choice but to squeal helplessly as his body jerked back and forth, desperately trying to escape Logan’s tickles.

Logan clicked his tongue in disapproval. “No, stay still, Virgil. Now I have to start over.”

“Nohohoho!” Virgil managed through his giggles, kicking his feet as Logan started from the bottom once more. “Logahahahan!”

“Don’t distract me, Virgil,” Logan practically sang. “Or else I’m gonna have to start all over again.” He wiggled his fingers at Virgil’s lowest rib, and the emo side dropped his head on the floor, covering his face with his hands as he giggled helplessly.

Meanwhile, Patton was still teasing and cooing at Roman, muttering too softly for Logan to hear him, but judging from how bright Roman’s blush was, it was highly effective. Out of his peripheral vision, Logan saw Patton dip in to blow a few well-placed raspberries against Roman’s neck, forcing Roman to squeal desperately as he writhed on the floor.

Logan turned his attention back to Virgil, smiling as he heard how frantic his giggles were coming now that Logan had finally reached his highest ribs.

“Patton just gave me a very good idea,” he confided in Virgil, mercifully pulling his hands away and letting Virgil slump limply on the floor, a goofy smile on his face. He froze in anticipation as he felt Logan slowly rolling up the hem of his t-shirt, lowering himself until his mouth grazed Virgil’s skin, feeling it jump and twitch under his lips.

“Logan, please,” Virgil begged, but Logan ignored him. Instead, he shot him a look over the rim of his glasses, smiling wickedly as he saw Virgil’s blush deepen.

“Now, Virgil, this might tickle.” And with no further warning, Logan blew a noisy raspberry right against Virgil’s exposed side.

Virgil shrieked, body jolting like Logan’s touch was an electric shock. He babbled incomprehensible pleas of mercy, but Logan ignored him in favor of taking a deep breath and blowing another raspberry, this time just to the side of Virgil’s bellybutton. Then one right below his bellybutton. Then one right on his belly button.

“Ah-ahahahaha! Pattohohohohon! H-help mehehehehe!”

Patton finally looked over his shoulder, taking in Virgil’s wide smile and tear-stained cheeks ad Logan blew rapberry after raspberry on his uber-sensitive tummy. Patton felt his protective instincts, the ones that he felt when he saw Logan getting tickle tortured, kick in.

“Hang on, kiddo! I’m coming!”

He turned his attention back to Roman, whose face was turning as red as his sash.

“Alright, Princey,” Patton cooed, “Will you pretty please let go of my hands so I can go save Virgil?”

Roman screamed in response, shaking his head frantically. “I cahahahan’t! It tihihickles!”

“Aw, I know it tickles so badly. But if you can just lift your arms up, then the tickles will stop! Isn’t that what you want?”

The creative sides laughter only got louder- probably because Patton was now vibrating his thumbs into Roman’s highest ribs while still wiggling his fingers under his arms. Hey, just because he wanted to help Virgil, didn’t mean he was just gonna stop tickling Roman.

Logan, meawhile, had switched to spidering at Virgil’s hips with one hand while swirling a finger inside his bellybutton with the other, pressing kisses to his stomach whenever he got the chance. He glanced over his shoulder, smirking at Patton.

“It seems Roman doesn’t actually want you to stop tickling him, Patton. Please, feel free to tickle him for as long as you want. I’ll take good care of Virgil over here.”

Hearing Logan’s smug voice reminded Roman that it was his fault that Roman was getting tickled to death right now, and Roman still really wanted to see the usually stoic side get wrecked. So he mustered up all of his remaining strength, and forced his arms up, freeing Patton’s hands.

“Gehehet Logahahan! Pahahatton! Get Logan!”

Patton giggled and ceased his attack, placing a quick kiss on Roman’s forehead before turning on Logan, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Logi Bear,” he growled playfully. “Here comes the tickle monster!”

As soon as he heard Patton’s words, Logan abandoned Virgil and tried to escape, but he just wasn’t fast enough: Patton grabbed him around the waist and (gently) forced him onto the ground, lying face-down with Patton on his thighs.

“N-no, no, Patton please!” Logan begged, already giddy from all of the laughter in the room. But it was no use: Patton dug his fingers into Logan’s sides, wiggling his fingers against his pudge in a ruthless attack.

“A tickle-tickle-tickle-tickle, Logie Bear!” Patton cheered, laughing as Logan squealed and tried to buck him off. “Oh, are you squirmy, Logie? A squirmy little gigglebug? Aw, come on, Logan, don’t try to get away! I know you love my little tickle-tickle-tickles all over your tummy and sides! Just lie still and let the tickle monster tickle you, you sweet thing!”

“Pat- Pat- Pattohohohon-” Logan cried. “Plehehehease!”

Patton only laughed. “Sorry, honey! It’s your turn!” He began humming a light, teasy tune as he pushed Logan’s shirt as far up as it could go, easily baring his entire back.

“Hey Logan, do you remember this one?” He leaned closer, bracing himself with one arm so he could hover his mouth right over Logan’s ears, while the other hand began its slow, torturous climb up Logan’s back.

“The itsy, bitsy spider went up the water spout,” Patton sang, voice infuriatingly teasy and babyish. The song, plus the way his fingers were gently spidering up the back of Logan’s ribs, made the logical side scream and thrash his body as much as he could under Patton’s weight.

“Down came the rain, and washed the spider out!” 

Patton dragged his nails down Logan’s back, scratching that wonderfully evil sweet spot at the back of his hips, and Logan howled, arms weakly reaching backwards to bat at Patton.

Patton avoided his arms with ease, shift backwards so he could hover his mouth over Logan’s upper back.

“Out came the sun and dried up all the rain!” And with that, Paton began kissing, nibbling, and blowing raspberries all over Logan’s shoulderblades. He squealed at the touch, his voice going even higher when Patton continued to flutter his fingers along his lower back.

“And the itsy, bitsy spider went up the spout again,” Patton finished, scribbling his fingers all up and down Logan’s spine. The logical side kicked his legs out, but the rest of his body lied weak and limp on the floor, completely overtaken by Patton’s tickles.

“Stohohohohop! Plehehehease!”

Patton hummed in consideration. “But you’re so cute when you get all giggly, my little Logan!”

“Nohohoho,” Logan whined, pressing his face into the floor to hide his burning blush. Patton tsked. 

“Oh, yes you are!” he cooed. “My little gigglebug. My sweet little snickerdoodle. My ticklish little cutiepants!” As he spoke, he continued scratching his fingers in just the right spots on Logan’s lower back to send him further into hysterics, the teasing making him a hundred times more sensitive.

Virgil laid on the floor where Logan had left him, catching his breath from the ruthless tickle attack. He stretched his arms out, and managed to hold down one of Logan’s ankles, dragging his nails all the way down Logan’s sole in one swift motion.

“Na-ahahahahaha! Nohohohohohohoho! Ahahahahaha!” Logan’s laughter took on a wholly manic tone, suffering under the feeling of his two worst spots being tortured at the exact same time.

Virgil worked his thumb into Logan’s arch, snorting as he had to dodge Logan’s other foot.

“Watch it, Teach!” he called. “Can’t handle your feet getting tickled?”

“You- you- you know I cahahahan’t!”

Virgil tsked. “Too bad.” He corkscrewed his index finger in between two of Logan’s toes, and the logical side’s body siezed, his laughter falling silent. 

Immediately Patton and Virgil pulled back, and even Roman sat up to make sure Logan got his breath back.

“You good, kiddo?” Patton asked, moving off of Logan so he could breathe unrestricted.

Logan coughed, nodding. “Yes, I’m- I’m fine, that was just-”

“Too much?” Virgil asked, guilt laced in his voice.

“Just a bit,” Logan admitted, “but I’m not upset, Virgil. I just can’t take both at once, but we can keep going.”

Patton giggled. “Aw, little gigglebug still wants some tickles?” he cooed, pinching Logan’s cheek. He shook his head, an embarrassed grin rising on his face.

Virgil hesitated, but he trusted Logan to be honest with him. Still, he sat back, a cocky smile on his face as he said, “Hey, Pat, maybe you should take the lead? We all know Logan’s got a lot of hotspots on his back. Why don’t you find them all?”

His grin grew as Logan swore and Patton’s gasped.

“What a good idea, Virgil!” he replied. He turned his attention back to Logan, gently pushing him over until he was back on his stomach. Despite his grumblings, Logan really didn’t protest, assuring everyone in the room that he was still okay with the game.

As Virgil watched Patton give Logan some torturously light tickles in his most vulnerable spots, he was barely aware of Roman crawling over to flop down beside him until he felt a flutter of fingers at his neck.

“Gah! Don’t!” He jerked his head away, shooting Roman as much of a scowl as he could muster. The creative side smiled coyly at him.

“Call it revenge for holding me down earlier, ‘kay, Doom and Gloom?” Roman punctuated his sentence by scratching underneath Virgil’s chin, only to yelp as Virgil tweaked his hip in retaliation.

The two locked eyes.

Roman poked Virgil’s stomach. Virgil squished Roman’s side.

Roman scratched at Virgil’s lower ribs. Virgil squeezed Roman’s thigh.

Roman worked his hand into Virgil’s underarm. Virgil dragged his nails along the underside of Roman’s jaw.

That made Roman let out a short squeak. “No! Stop!” He reached around to tease Virgil’s upper back, sending him into giggles.

“Not- not until you stop!” Virgil retorted breathlessly, latching hs hands around Roman’s knees and giving them a fair amount of scratches.

The two giggly messes went around and around, prodding and teasing at each of the other’s tickle spots, both of them too tired to fully engage, but not wanting to be the first to give up. They leaned closer and pressed their foreheads together, their giggles rising out of pure giddiness from the silly game they were playing.

An ‘awwing’ sound brought them out of their game, and Roman and Virgil looked over, pulling apart as they realized they were being watched by Patton and Logan.

“Look at those cuties!” Patton said to no one in particular, watching them with a loving expression on his face. “I could just eat you up!”

Virgil and Roman flushed, gazes darting away from Patton’s teasing face, until Logan’s expression caught their attention. He was still teary eyed and pink-cheeked, but he was looking at them with a great intensity.

He pointed to Patton, making extreme eye contact with the others, and Roman and Virgil smirked, nodding. Patton looked between the three of them, and suddenly all four of them were on the same page.

Patton stood up quickly, pretending to stretch as he stepped away from the others. 

“Oh, gosh, look at the time!” he chirped, moving backwards as his three friends all stood up and began moving towards him in unision. “I think I need to, um, water my hamster and feed my plants, so-”

He didn’t even finish his sentence before he spun around and took off running, the other three in hot pursuit.

“Patton!” Roman called, diving around the furniture, “just give in!”

“You know we’re not gonna stop until we get you, Patton,” Logan added, shifting on his feet like a goalie as he tried to anticipate Patton next move.

Patton was grinning wildly. “Catch me if you can!”

He dove out of the room and bounded down the hallway, laughing as he heard Roman and Logan arguing over whose fault it was that he got away.

He was just a few feet from his room at the end of the hallway before something grabbed his sweater, jerking him back.

“Thought you could get away?” Virgil asked, and now it was Patton’s turn to squirm at the feeling of warm breath against his ear. Before he could respond, he felt Virgil’s arms going around him and lifting him into the air, until Virgil was carrying him bridal style back down the hallway.

Patton squealed, clinging tightly to Virgil. “Virgil! Put me down now!”

Virgil hummed in consideration before shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t think I will.”

As they got closer, Patton could hear Roman and Logan’s voices getting louder. Roman and Logan, whom Patton had just tickled to near-death. Who were waiting to tickle him back. Who were not gonna stop untl he was a teary, exhausted mess.

Patton turned to Virgil, eyes wide.

“I warned you, Virgil.”

Patton took a deep breath and blew a raspberry right in the crook of Virgil’s neck, making his knees buckle as he squealed in desperation.

“P- Patton! You- nohohoho, stohohohop!” Virgil managed, laughter raising as Patton furiously shoved his fingers down to wiggle blindly at Virgil’s tummy and sides.

“I’m sorry, kiddo!” he replied. “I didn’t wanna do this!” Which was a lie, honestly, but Virgil couldn’t call him out on that, because now Patton was nibbling at his neck and collarbone, and Virgil’s arms were going weak, letting Patton get closer and closer to escaping.

“Pahahahattohohon! Nohohot fair!”

“Hm?” Patton replied, pressing his mouth against Virgil’s skin to send vibrations down his neck. “What’s not fair, kiddo?”

“Ahahahaha- it’s your turn!” Virgil screamed, falling against the wall for support. He gasped for breath, giggles streaming out even after Patton had pulled back.

“It���s your turn,” he repeated once more. “It’s fair.”

When he finally managed to calm himself, he cracked his eyes open slowly, shocked to find Patton just looking at him, not even trying to get away.

“... I guess you’re right, Virge,” he said softly, a nervous smile gracing his face. “It is my turn, huh?”

Virgil blinked in surprise before he smiled back, and he recollected Patton in his arms before marching back towards the living room.

“Got him,” he announced to Logan and Roman, who were watching the two of them like predators stalking their prey. “I think he’s sorry about earlier- aren’t you, Patton?”

He pinched the back of Patton’s thigh in his hold, and Patton gasped, clinging tighter to Virgil. He nodded frantically.

“Yep! So sorry!”

Logan and Roman watched him with twin expressions of softness mized with determination.

“We forgive you, Patton,” Roman said, stepping forward run his hand through Patton’s hair. “We know you just love playing with us.”

He pressed a small kiss to the top of Patton’s head, surprising the others with his tenderness.

“Indeed,” Logan said next, joining Roman to rub a hand up and down Patton’s forearm. “It was all in good fun, we know that.”

He gave Patton a kiss as well, this time on his temple. Patton giggled lightly, leaning into the touch.

“You know what else we know?” Virgil asked. He leaned close to Patton’s ear, fluttering his eyelashes to give him butterfly kisses on his cheeks as he murmured, “We know how much fun it is to get you back.”

His pressed his kiss underneath Patton’s ear, and the moral side squeaked, twisting his head away.

“Why?” he whined. Roman, Logan, and Virgil shared a look.

“Because,” Roman replied, “you’re adorable.” Kiss on the shoulder.

“And lively,” Logan added. Kiss on the neck.

“And fun,” Virgil said. Kiss on the nose.

“And gentle.”

“And ruthless.”

“And loving.”

“And soft.”

“And warm.”

“And perfect.”

“And fun.”

“Virgil said that already, Roman.”

“I mean, it’s true.”

It didn’t even matter, because Patton couldn’t hear them over his own giggles; each compliment was paired with a tickly kiss on his upper body, all over his face and neck and shoulders and chest. Virgil laid him down on the ground, easing up his polo shirt, and they kept going, scattered kissing and compliments all over his skin.

By the time they pulled back, Patton’s chest as heaving with laughter, his tummy as red as his cheeks from all of the kisses.

“Are- are you done?” he asked, unable to keep a note of disappointment out of his voice. The three of them shared another look before turning their devious smiles toward Patton.

“Just take advantage of the break, Padre,” Roman replied, patting his cheek with care.

“You’re gonna need it,” Virgil muttered. Patton turned to him, his stomach flipping at the ominous tone of voice.

“What- what do you mean?”

“I think we all know that was just a warmup,” Logan said. Before Patton could respond, Logan shifted just slightly, until he was hovering his hand right over Patton’s hips.

Patton’s mouth shut with a clack. Oh, no.

Virgil shifting backwards, easily settling next to Patton’s knees. “I mean, it’s gonna tickle really bad, but I know you can handle it.”

“Or maybe not. We’ll find out,” Roman added cheerfully. Patton looked at him with anticipation as he crawled over the floor, coming to settle at Patton’s feet.

Patton started giggling again, shaking his head in anticipation.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he babbled. None of them made any move to tickle him first; instead, they all hovered their hands right over his worst tickle spots, watching him with dangerous grins as he worked himself up into a hypersensitive state.

Fnally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“When are you gonna start?”

“When you ask,” Virgil replied immediately. Patton flushed.

“I don’t wanna ask!”

“Then I guess we’ll never start,” Logan finished. His fingers twitched, causing Patton to jerk his hips away, to no avail.

“We can just stay right here, Patton,” Roman said, voice low and teasy. “Just feel our fingers, wiggling so close to your vulnerable little tickle spots. Can you feel it? Does it tickle already?

He could feel it, and it did tickle already, but that didn’t mean he could just outright say it.

“How about this?” Virgil added. ‘Let’s make it a countdown. When we hit zero, you ask us politely to tickle you to death. If you don’t ask, we’ll try again. And again. And again. All night long if we have to.”

Patton’s giggles were bubbling up in his chest.

“Three...”

He couldn’t do this. He was going to die.

“Two...”

... But he wanted to do this.

“One-”

“Tickle me please!” he blurted, slamming his hands over his mouth. But it was too late.

The second his words were out, all three of the others dove in to attack him simultaneously.

And it was around this moment that all three of them remembered something about when the Mind Palace’s biggest tickle monster finally gets wrecked:

Patton was a screamer.

He shrieked relentlessly as Logan starting drawing delicate designs all over Patton’s hip bones, as Virgil squeezed the spot just above his kneecaps in rhythm, and as Roman scratched a nail along the wrinkles of Patton’s feet. There was hardly any actual laughter,just wordless wails of gleeful agony, but as the other sides sporadically paused their individual attacks to let him catch his breath, there was nothing that could stop the furious giggles easily spilling from his lips.

And then Logan would switch to vibrating his thumbs in the divots of Patton’s hips, and Virgil would work his hands underneath Patton’s legs to tease the soft skin of his knee pits, and Roman would work his fingers underneath and in between each and every one of Patton’s toes, and the screaming laughter would start anew. 

“A tickle-tickle-tickle-tickle-tickle, Patton!” Logan cooed, taking on Patton’s favorite form of babytalk. “Tickle-tickle here, and tickle-tickle there, and tickle-tickle everywhere!”

“Aw, can Patton not handle some tickles in his most favorite spots?” Virgil asked. His fingers played hopscotch over Patton’s kneecaps as he continued, “Just sit back and take it, Popstar. We all know how much you love it.”

“Where’s that spot, Padre?” Roman called. “I know there’s a spot under one of these toes that makes you scream all high-pitched and crazy- oh, there it is! I think I’ll stay here a while, how about that?”

This game went on for an undetermined amount of time- by the time Patton, voice hoarse and scratchy, finally gave his safeword, the sun was setting, casting the room in a warm glow.

No one spoke for a while, until Patton raised his weary head. He waved at the three of them vaguely.

“C’mere.”

After a moment of hesitation, Logan, Roman, and Virgil all moved to join Patton in cuddling on the floor.

Logan summoned water for all four of them, and Patton summoned all of their favorite snacks, and Virgil dragged all of the blankets and pillows in the room onto the floor, and Roman snapped his fingers and started a Disney movie on the TV.

The four of them curled up together, warm from the blankets and from their laughter and from each other. They didn’t have to talk about it. They all knew they felt the same.

It wasn’t a completely normal day in the Mind Palace. But it was a good one.

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Just wear a smile - Tony’s Day

A/N: How AWESOME is the fact that @anasticklefics​ is celebrating the OG Avengers for an entire week in this beautiful december month?? I can barely contain my emotions and will participate - better late than never. Here is my last minute Tony Stark tickle fic, featuring Tony and Clint.

Clint was about to enter the room Tony had messaged him to join him in - after having taken a wrong turn to the wrong floor, where he had accidentally witnessed Bruce Banner practice an imaginative Jimmy Fallon interview - for his nose fracture scan. This nose of his had been broken multiple times already, but it was his first technological treatment since he had started his lifelong nosebreaking spree. JARVIS was apparently visualizing the fractured bone during that procedure to build a metal splint that Clint could later on apply to the bridge of his nose - it was supposed to offer maximum healing quality results. Natasha had already joked it would probably be like a beauty surgery for Clint whom she had never gotten to know with a pre-break-nose. The thought appealed to the archer.

Anyway, he was about to enter the room when something soft hit him in the face, accompanied by a frustrated human sound. 

Clint picked the thing from his still quite sore nose and identified it as a Metal Band shirt. Black Sabbath. He knew the album covers due to Tony’s collection. 

With a questioning glance did he look around the corner of the door frame only to see his teammate stand in front of a large cupboard filled with clothes. Or... well, it must have been filled with clothes once upon a time. Now? They were scattered all over the floor, piling up to hills or flattening out to landscapes of cotton. The archer cleared his throat. 

Tony turned around to reveal a thoughtful, slightly hysterical expression. He smiled despite it. Oh, also he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The arc reactor in his chest was bright and fascinating and Clint had to immediately fight the urge to touch it. He was surprisingly buff. Not that Clint hadn’t expected him to be in a good shape.

“There you are.” Tony stated matter of factly and waded towards him through the sea of textiles as if that were a normal thing to do. He took the Black Sabbath shirt out of Clint’s hand, took him by the shoulder and guided him to a chair. “It’s about time. I got to get ready for a date.” 

“Oh.” Clint made and nodded. He must have sounded a tad bit too insightful, because Tony stopped walking and looked at him appraisingly. 

“What do you mean oh?”

Clint shrugged and sat down on the edge of the table next to the chair - it was barely visible underneath the pile of clothes on top. “Oh means oh. As in oh, you’ve got a date and now you’re freaking out. It appears more normal to me now. This mess, I mean.” 

Tony’s eyes reflected frustration and fear now. His shoulders sagged down a little. “I am freaking out.”

“Yep. I figured.”

“And I don’t know how to freak back in.” “Er.. right.”

“Clint, I will gladly scan your nose and let JARVIS build a metal splint for you. But first, I really need your help.”

“Let me guess. You can’t decide what to wear?”

Tony let out a hysterical chuckle in response. Clint crossed his muscled arms in front of his chest and smirked. “Why ask me? You’ve got five other opinions available.”

“Looks like you are the one to call when someone feels a bit self-conscious.”

At that Clint actually had to give him a crooked smile. 

Tony gathered up some shirts from the floor and put them on the bed nearby. He then started to hold up each of them in front of his body for a short time, explaining shortly why he believed them to be good choices, before talking himself out of the decision and disposing of the loser-shirt. 

After the tenth piece of clothing dropped to the ground Clint still hadn’t said a word. He was squinting his eyes at Tony considerately and waited for his panic to subside due to his friend’s presence in the room. After shirt number 14 Clint was sure this moment of restored peace of mind wouldn’t befall Tony. He stood up from the table with a sigh and put his hands on his hips. Tony dropped the black shirt in his hands, shut his mouth and stared at Clint expectantly. 

“What? Did you decide? Is one of them the perfect choice? Talk to me, Barton. Give me something to work with.”

Clint chuckled and pointed at Tony’s face. “You know what you have to wear to this obviously special date with Pepper?”

Tony wrung his hands. “Isn’t this question the reason why you’re here??”

“You have to wear a smile.” 

There was a pause. Tony looked at Clint with a tense expression, his eyes showing the archer well enough that he wasn’t capable of instant relaxation. No problemo was what Hawkeye thought to that. He knew just how to cheer a person up. He didn’t have a reputation of being insufferable for nothing. Even Cap had already fallen victim to his cheer-up-attacks and he hadn’t yet been sneaky enough to get him for revenge - though he’d tried.

“This is an easy task, Tony.” Clint took a step closer to the abashed Iron Man. “Once you’re all smily and happy...” Another step closer, over a Metallica shirt. “... what’s it matter which shirt you wear?” 

“Barton.” Tony took a step back when he realized how close Clint had gotten in that short span of time. 

“I’m just trying to help you here.” Clint smirked and stepped over another bundle of clothes. He was ready to pounce any second now.

“Why are you following me? Clint!” In the brown eyes of the billionaire the tension was already making place for something else: anticipation. Six touch-starved idiots under one roof could make for some ... you know ... wish to be touched. It wasn’t surprising that Tony was scared of his date. Pepper was intelligent and cool and needed special attention. Tony probably was doubting his ability to make her happy. Clint knew that was bullshit, but it would take a lot to make Tony realize that. He certainly couldn’t convince him. What he could perfectly convince him of though was the need to laugh. Oh, he could make people laugh. People tended to know.

“You know.” Clint said and bent down, picking up a t-shirt at random. “I believe you could really pull of ... THIS!” Quickly and precisely he threw the shirt in Tony’s face, a face that was busy shouting by now, while Clint flung himself forward and tackled the man to the ground. They had a nice, soft landing among all the different fabrics. Clint almost started to wail though when Tony’s helpless hands hit against his nose, but he managed to swallow it and do quick work with his agile fingers. 

“BARTON DON’T YOU DAHAHHAHARE!!” Tony yelled into the white shirt that was still covering his face when Clint’s hands started dancing up and down his bare upper body. He arched his back and threw his head from one side to the other trying to decide instinctively which action had priority: pulling Clint’s hands away from his ticklish spots or removing the shirt from his face. Those scribbling finger certainly tickled like hell.

“Hey, would you look at that! Blindingly white! That’s what the women like.” Cheekily Clint wormed his fingers underneath the shirt to scratch at Tony’s neck, getting an actual shriek out of the twitching man on the floor. 

“STAHHAHAP!! Clihihiihihint! You- you utter ahahahahhaHAHA!!! AAHHASSHOOOLE!!!” Tony threw the shirt away, sending it flying across the room before he tried to gain control over Clint’s merciless hands. His cheeks were blushed slightly, his eyes glistening with tears of laughter and his teeth sparkling with the expanse of his smile. 

“That’s way better, Tony. How could you not be the salt to her pepper dressed with a smile like that?” 

Tony threw his head back in laughter when Clint managed to pin down one of his wrists to get a the really ticklish hollow under his arm. “NOHOOHOH PLEHEHEHEASE!!!”

“Does she know you’re this ticklish? She certainly has to know. This’ll make it easier for the both of you.” Clint smirked when Tony’s laughter turned silent at the ticklish treatment in his armpit. He shook his head wildly and wheezed. “OKAY OKAY!!! PLEHEHHEHEASE PLEHHEEHEASE STAHAHHAAP!! CLIIHIIHNT!!!”

“Alright, alright.” Clint let go off Tony’s wrist and sat back with his arms crossed. The poor man tried to get some air back inside his lungs, but his smile stayed on his face. He grabbed a handful of fabric and threw it at Clint as a retort. The archer didn’t even flinch.

“I feel like maybe I should continue just a few seconds longer...” Clint snarled dangerously and tweaked Tony’s sides a few times.

“Noho NOHO PLEASE. NOOO!!” Tony kicked himself out of Clint’s reach with his arms raised defenively and his stomach dancing up and down with the left-over giggles. He looked at Clint with a way calmer expression than he had minutes ago. 

“Now. That’s much better. I don’t think you have to worry about anything tonight, Tony.” Clint scrambled past Tony to grab the white shirt he had hauled across the room due to tickle reflexes. “If you wear this shirt in addition to your tousled giggly look, what can go wrong?”

Tony took the shirt from Clint and smiled gratefully. “You are so annoying.”

“Always happy to help.” Clint responded with a grin. 

They shared a moment of companionable silence when suddenly Tony’s smile fell. “Is that- is your nose bleeding?”

“Probably. You hit it pretty good.”

“You were tickling me.”

“It happens more often than you think.” 

“... We should really make that metal splint now.”

“Probably. Do you think I will be able to feel my nose again? It’s been two years.”

“Oh, Clint.”