Y’all can call me Orange, she/her/hers, and I write SFW tickle fic blogs. Sometimes I may deviate and write other stuff if I’m feeling inspired to, but the main point is tickle fics.
I attempted to get started on this site a while back, but due to life and busy-ness I just had no time. So, here I am now. I’m still busy, but we’re trying lol.
Before I go into everything else, I would like to ask that NSFW PEOPLE DO NOT INTERACT. I’m not a minor, but I’m not in this community for that stuff, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t interact.
Also, I am a human being, and while I love tickling and this community, you can interact with me about other stuff - I have hobbies: drawing, video games, I know a ton of dog facts and love dogs, I read, I watch Netflix etc. Please, when you first interact, I appreciate getting to know people, yknow?
Okay. Now that that’s out of the way, I’d like to talk about the way I organize my blog. If you made it this far, great! Hello! Some people on this site like to have their fanfic lengths coded, and I like this idea so here it is:
Clementine: Short
Tangerine: Medium
Orange: Long
Blood Orange: Very Long, or multiple parts
It’s a fun little way to organize in keeping with my tag, @laughterisorange. If you want me to write something, give me an ask for the characters and series I write for, specifics if you want it, and a length. I’ll get to it as soon as I can!
I also write for myself, so you’ll see fics that pop up without an ask too!
Below is a list of all the series’s I write for, but If you don’t see something on this list, you can also ask me if I write for it, because heaven knows I’m forgetful so I may have forgotten to put it on the list. If I don’t write for it though, maybe someone else I know does and I can send you their way or something! After all, we all support each other on here, right?
FAVORITES TO WRITE FOR:
Anime
- My Hero Academia
- SK8
- Haikyuu
TV Shows
- Teen Wolf
- Outer Banks
- The Flash
- She-Ra
- Voltron
- Julie and the Phantoms
Musicals
- Newsies (100%)
- DEH (Dear Evan Hanson)
- Hamilton
Open to writing for a bunch of things, you’re welcome to ask lol I’m sure I’m forgetting loads :) pairings both romantic and platonic, and as an asexual…well I have my head cannons ;)
A/N: me going to sleep at night knowing i write OOC tickles for serious media: 😴😴😴
Summary: Jayce refuses to get some sleep, but Viktor might have a way to convince him.
Word count: 1292
---
It's easier to scold someone else's lack of self-care than it is to work on your own.
When Viktor neglects his sleep, Jayce knows exactly what to say every time. "You can't keep overworking your body like this. Sooner or later, you're going to shut down."
But when Jayce neglects his sleep, he finds new ways to rationalize his decision thanks to his sleep-deprived daze. He pretends like he can't see Viktor staring ironically at him from down the table.
Okay, so maybe he was being a bit of a hypocrite. But these were special circumstances! They were expected to present a new Hextech device to the council in a few days, and they were running behind schedule. Jayce had tried to speed things along by putting in a few more hours at his station, but what was supposed to be "a few hours" turned into the entire night.
Viktor, as Jayce expected, was none too pleased. He insisted that they had already done more than was even necessary, and that any more modifications could have been dealt with in the morning. He even had the nerve to parrot Jayce's own lecture back to him.
"If you keep this up, sooner or later your body will shut down."
"Why does that sound so familiar?" Jayce groaned sarcastically. Regardless of his ill-advised choices, this machine still needed finishing, and that was what he was going to do.
He couldn't quite remember getting up out of his chair and making his way over to the toolbox, as the world seemed to blur around him, but a curmudgeonly voice brought him back to the present.
"Jayce, please, what you've done is good enough. Go home and get some sleep."
"Viktor, I'm fine, I'm really fine. I can still work."
"What is it you're reaching for right now?"
Jayce blinked down at where his hand was grabbing... thin air. Dazed, he spun around until he found the tool box on complete opposite end of the table.
Viktor gestured emphatically at the box. "You see? You're not thinking clearly," His voice changed suddenly into a compassionate, almost pleading tone. "You've gone too long without sleep. I'll handle the preparations today, you can go home."
"Vik, I can't just drop this now okay? I'm so close now. I mean think about it, what's more important right now: the amount of sleep I get, or proving our value to the council?"
"I cannot believe you're asking me this" said Viktor, sounding more exhausted than his partner in that moment.
Ignoring him, Jayce staggered to where the toolbox actually was, and grabbed a wrench.
Unfortunately for him, Viktor was not willing to let this go. He gripped Jayce by the arm clutching the wrench.
"Jayce, put it down. I don't want to need to use force." Although it was certainly a threat, they both knew implicitly that Viktor wasn't very cross with Jayce at all. But dammit, he would go to bed.
Jayce chuckled. "Not happening, Vik."
"Ehhhh fine. If that's the way it has to be" Viktor said, with something akin to a smirk in his voice. A smirk that usually meant trouble for Jayce.
A hand suddenly began squeezing up Jayce's side, making the scientist bark in a choke of laughter. It wasn't often that Viktor opted to play dirty like this; only when the situation desperately called for it. He was nothing if not a determined man.
Laughing freely, Jayce remained where he stood. At a new ninety-degree angle, sure, but still standing. If Viktor wanted to take this up a notch, then so would he. He'll laugh until his sides split open, but he is not losing this fight.
"Viktor, whahat the hehehelll!" He giggled.
"I have asked you several times to take a break, but if you want to go about this like a child, then I will treat you like one" Viktor teased.
Jayce could hear the smugness in his voice.
"I'm noHOt givihing IN!"
"How unfortunate for you."
The hand at Jayce's side was now climbing it's way up to his arm. Jayce twisted around every which way he could to try and stall its arrival, but to little success. He would rather die than admit it, but he truly couldn't help giggling even if it wasn't involuntary. The sensation, sparkling its way through his nerves like lightning through tree branches, was just so funny. It was pleasant, in the most unbearable way. He couldn't fully wrap his head around it, and he didn't have time to, because Viktor was still clawing into his armpit.
Jayce wasn't going to take this lying down. He started to pull away from his partner, hoping that Viktor wouldn't persist that much. Maybe moving away would be all it took for this tickly spell to be broken.
But to no such luck. Viktor could see his plan to move before he enacted it. Quick as a flash, he gripped Jayce's arm with his free hand, now effectively pinning him to his side.
"And where do you think you're going?" Viktor asked.
"Lehet mehehe gohoho!"
"You know what it is I want Jayce. I'll keep tickling until you go to bed."
"You cahan't brihihibe me into being healthyhyhyhy!"
"Bribe?"
Oh, fuck.
"Is this a bribe then?" came the voice above him. His voice was like a warm spotlight, exposing him with the softest touch. It was the same tone he got when something truly fascinated him; when his object of study surprised him and heightened his sense of curiosity even more.
Jayce's eyes had shut tight as soon as he realized what he had said, too mortified to dare a look. The tickling had stopped. Of course it did. Why would Viktor keep going after hearing him say something that stupid? He didn't even think it, it just slipped out! But he couldn't say that he was mistaken. Because he was having fun. Goofing off, having Viktor be close to him, playing with him-
Viktor had been quiet for a total of three whole seconds, but to Jayce, it may as well have been twenty. Then came Viktor's voice.
"Well, in that case-" he said, a little too giddy for Jayce's liking.
"Wait, Viktor, I didn't mean it like-"
A hand latched onto his other side, simultaneously pulling him in like an awkward side-hug. The other hand had surrendered the grip on his arm in favor of scratching at his belly. The frantic giggles that left his mouth were not helping to ease the embarrassment of the situation.
"How about this for a deal?" Viktor smiled, a gentle and adoring look in his eyes that Jayce could not appreciate, as his eyes were still clamped shut. "We go home, get relaxed, and I tickle you senseless until you're worn out. Sound fair?"
What didn't sound fair was how flirty he sounded. Jayce's face burned red, and he knew he couldn't hide it. He buried his face into Viktor's chest.
"I'll take that as a yes."
And with that, the tickling stopped. Only for this moment. Viktor's hands now cradled his husband's face, pulling it out from his chest and against his forehead.
"You make me so stupidly weak" he said, pressing a kiss to his nose.
"Which one of us has been laughing themselves stupid for the past five minutes?"
That got a giggle out of Viktor. With a final poke in the side, he grabbed his cane and turned toward the door, with Jayce grabbing their coats behind them.
August’s Daily Tickletober Day 1 (2 days late): ANTICIPATION
~ ONE OF THESE DECADES ~
“Come on mate, you need to learn how to defend yourself.”
“Charles, give it a rest. I don’t throw punches, and you don’t know how to properly teach a man to box anyhow.”
“Ay - I’m getting better at it. I told you, one of these decades -“
“You’d get me to defend myself, yes yes, you said.”
Charles lifted his palm, raising his eyebrows in invitation.
“You look stupid.”
“Says the man wearing boxing gloves from 1899.”
Edwin pouted, holding his gloved hands close to his chest. “…They’re gentlemanly. But at least you got the time period right - mostly.”
Edwin flinches as Charles goes in for a fake punch, dancing around him again.
“Would you stand still? You’re making me dizzy.”
“And you’re making me bored, so let’s up the ante, shall we?”
Charles reaches out, tazing Edwin side. The lanky boy recoils, bending at an odd angle to get away from the sensation. “Charles!”
“Ed.” Charles says cheekily, jutting his lip out teasingly.
“You’re being ridicuhuhlous.” Edwin’s statement is broken by giggles, as Charles darts in, skittering his fingers across Edwin’s stomach. “Stop.”
Charles grinned, dancing around like a goddamn twinkle toes once more. Edwin fought a smile. “Make me. Defend yourself from the tickle monster.”
“Dohoho not call yourself that.” Edwin admonished, grinning in earnest, the gloves coming up to hide it.
Charles furrowed his brows. “Tsk. So serious.” He drove a flurry of pokes into Edwins side. The gloves came back down to protect himself.
“Chahaharles!”
“Ehehed!” Charles mocks, darting around him, those devilish hands squeezing at his hips for a moment and then they were gone again.
It was driving Edwin insane. His face was hot, but his chest was light and fluttery, almost giddy.
Charles barely needed to touch him, Edwin was giggling so much on his own, and his laughter jumped as Charles made a move to attack again. He tested it a few more times - each time he would move in quickly and fake out Edwin, Edwin would twitch violently and giggle. Charles was having the time of his life!
“Ehehehnough already! If you’re going to do it, just dohohoho it!”
“Fight back!” Charles pinched at his shoulder blades, and Edwin positively squawked, whipping around red faced, and shoving Charles back a step.
“Better!” Charles laughed, keeping on his feet. “Honestly, if I had known a little tickling,” He said moving again to scratch at Charles’ stomach. “-Would get you to finally defend yourself, I would’ve started this shit earlier!”
Edwin folded, his back hitting the shelves, as he sunk to the floor. “Chahahahrles!”
Charles just grinned, attacking him in earnest now, training forgotten.
“Shihihihihit! Nohohohoh!”
“It’s refreshing to see you smile and loosen up like this you know, you’re always so tense!”
“We dohohon’t have the luxury of - gAH - of relahahahaxing! Merherherhecy! Please Charles!”
Charles slowed his hands, rubbing over Edwin’s side to chase away the last of the maddening sensations as the older caught his breath.
Edwin shook his head in mirth. “You absolute, buffoon…”
“Ah you love me, really - ” Charles said, finishing his ministrations before patting Edwin’s arm and standing.
And as Edwin took the hand that was offered and was pulled up to Charles’ shining face, adorable dimples and sparkling eyes, he found himself thinking that yeah, he really did.
being tickled is so flustering for so many reasons but the part that gets me the most is someone wanting to tickle me?? the thought of someone actively wanting to make me laugh, wanting to coax it out of me with gentle, deliberate touches. the thought that someone wants to see the effect that their teasing has on me, that they want me to be flustered because they like seeing me that way. the concept of wanting to be so playful with me and also wanting to see me in such a flustered, silly state because they like it is. yeah.
29. "Move your ass before I do it for you." lee!carmy & ler!sydney
Sydney sighs heavily as she enters the kitchen. Today has been a frustrating one.
The dish she's been working on for hours keeps coming out a different variation of wrong every time she remakes it. Too salty one time, too acidic the next. Every issue she resolved seemed to be replaced by two more. She's been at it in the kitchen for six hours straight, writing and re-writing, firing and re-firing.
The other staff members enter intermittently, allowing Sydney to get occasional feedback. Carmy and Marcus have both come through offering to contribute, but Sydney brushes them away stubbornly, determined to execute this on her own to prove to herself that she could.
As Sydney re-enters the kitchen after a walk to blow off steam, she's startled to see Carmy, standing in front of her most recent failed attempt. He's facing away from her and clearly fiddling with it.
"Uhhh...yo. No. No," Sydney says, coming up behind him and grabbing for the spoon in his hand. He pulls it away before she can.
"Relax, I think I know where you're going wrong now," he says, not looking up from the dish.
"I didn't ask," Sydney gripes. She stands shoulder-to-shoulder next to him at the counter, trying to nudge him aside. Carmy holds his ground, scoffing at her.
"What exactly are you trying to prove here? Just let me-"
"Let go! I can do it!"
"If you'll just-"
"Move your ass before I do it for you."
Carmy snorts, unfazed. "You really need to address this complex you have against receiving help."
Sydney gapes at him. "I don't have a fucking complex."
"Whatever you say."
"Carmy, just move!" Sydney puts her hands on his waist from behind to drag him to the side. When she does this, he jolts, and his hands shoot to grab hers so fast that he drops the spoon. Sydney's eyebrows shoot up, and her scowl melts into a grin.
"No fucking way," she says, and reaches out to grab his side again. He's prepared this time, and slaps her hands away, trying to look pissed.
"Stop!"
"Leave my dish alone," Sydney retorts, lunging again. Her hands find his sides, just above the tie of his apron, and start squeezing relentlessly. Carmy is backed up against the counter, with nowhere to go but the floor, so that's what he does.
"Syd, stop, stohop! Fuhuckin'- stahahaha-!" Carmy wrestles with her arms, but is far from coordinated at the moment, and she worms her hands through his defenses easily. He melts all the way to the grimy kitchen floor, switching between fighting Sydney and wrapping his arms around himself to block her. Neither is working.
"Oh this is too good. Pick yourself up, chef! Have some professionalism!" Sydney scolds teasingly. She curls her fingers into claws and shakes them into Carmy's ribs as he snorts and falls into squeaky laughter.
"SYD-!"
"Do Richie and Nat know about this? Because if they don't, they're gonna."
"Fuhuhuhuck yohohou!"
Syd runs her fingers over his stomach one more time before letting up, leaning back on her knees and smirking smugly. Carmy's head slumps back against the counter as he sucks in a much-needed breath.
"Do you think the staff would still be intimidated if they knew you were ticklish like a little girl?"
"Fuck off."
"I would be really nice to me if I were you."
"Don't you fucking tell them."
Sydney giggles at the sight of her hot-headed partner pink in the face and breathless on the floor. She stands up and offers him a hand, which he eyes warily before accepting.
"You're the worst," Carmy pants.
"I know," Sydney smiles and turns to face her unfinished dish. Carmy walks to her side.
"You really don't want help?"
Sydney sighs. "I wanted you to know I could do it. But I can't, I guess, so... yeah."
Carmy furrows his brow. "You don't have to prove yourself to me, Syd. That's not what this is about."
Sydney shrugs, her gaze drifting to the floor. "I know, it's just... I've fucked up, like, a lot, and publicly. I should be able to prove I deserve this role."
"You do." Carmy says firmly, bright blue eyes locking with hers, making sure she internalizes his words.
Sydney softens, shrugging sheepishly. "Thanks. That means a lot."
Carmy returns her small smile. "Now, are we going to be a team or are you really kicking me out?"
Sydney giggles. "No, you're right, you're right. We're a team."
They work at the dish together for the next hour. Sydney feels relieved to have someone to bounce ideas off of, feeling the pressure she has put on herself melting away as they close in on perfection. On the final taste, when they know they've nailed it, they write the recipe in multiple places so they don't end up losing it. Sydney wishes Carmy a good night and heads out to catch her train, feeling accomplished. Working alongside Carmy always reminded her how well they aligned in the kitchen, and how efficient they were together. Despite his chronic stubbornness, she's grateful for him.
So grateful, in fact, that she might even keep his little secret.
ermm maybe #18 with lee!syd ler!carmy 👁️👁️ love ur writings sm i just finished the bear so ur keeping me fed well LMAO
thank you for saying this :') I can hardly tell if people enjoy or even read what I write because these days comments and feedback are SO rare. not that I think i'm owed anything for posting!!! but it can be a little discouraging being asked for content that is then never reacted to. I'm glad they're making you happy! <3
drabble prompts here!
18. "You wanna die?" lee!syd & ler!carmy
Carmy unlocks the door to his apartment. The smell of cigarette smoke and the cheap air freshener he used to try and mask it greets Sydney as she follows him inside. It's oddly endearing to her that he at least attempted to make it smell nice before she came over.
Carmy starts unloading the various ingredients they bought to put together some new dishes for The Bear's menu. Sydney goes to preheat the oven before stopping herself and opening it to reveal his collection of denim tucked inside.
"Sorry," he says, swooping in to move them. Sydney just snorts.
"Do you really not have, like, a dresser or something? Because one day we're gonna end up baking some jeans."
"Using it for other stuff. Could you hand me that skillet?"
Sydney passes it to him and starts prepping vegetables. She feels comfortable working in the small space with him like this. They've found a rhythm with each other, naturally falling in line with the way the other navigates the kitchen. They brainstorm ideas and themes for the new menu, experimenting different combinations of ingredients in hopes to discover something unique to blow their customers' minds.
However, they've been at this for two hours now, and have had little success in making something edible. Sydney is fixated on perfecting a pasta sauce and she has ten bowls of failed attempts lined up on the counter beside her. Carmy sets his knife down and leans back against the counter.
"Syd, maybe we should take a break. Our palates are definitely fucked and you've been staring at that for too long."
"No, I swear, I'm so close," Sydney says, letting a pinch of salt fall from her fingers. "It's, like, almost there."
"I believe you, but it'll be easier to figure it out if we step away for a second. Let's go grab some real food and come back to it."
Sydney doesn't look up from her work. "I can't stop yet! It really is so close, I can literally taste it."
Carmy sighs at her stubbornness. He ignores how much it reminds him of himself.
"Okay, it's an order now, from your boss. Stop working," he says.
"I'm off the clock, you can't tell me what to do."
Aggravated, Carmy comes up behind her and tases her side with two fingers. "Take a break."
To his surprise and amusement, Sydney yelps and nearly drops all the way to the floor. She rights herself and whips around to face him, scowling. He laughs and puts his hands up defensively.
"I was just trying to get your attention!"
"You're annoying. Go work on your own shit." Sydney turns around again to get back to stirring the sauce. Carmy considers his options for a few seconds, before jabbing her waist again, this time on either side. She shrieks and her knees buckle again, causing another dip that almost sends her to the floor.
"Stop!"
"I'm not doing anything."
"Do you wanna die? Like for real?"
Carmy is chuckling mischievously, holding his hands up again to convince her of his innocence. "You're not listening to me!"
Sydney can't help the playful smile that plays across her lips back at him. "Fuck. Off."
In retaliation, Carmy reaches out again, alternating hands poking into her sides and ribs. She starts to giggle immediately, using one hand to wrap around herself and they other to try and smack Carmy.
"Fuck ohohohoff! Carmy!"
He keeps poking, his index fingers wriggling into her sides as she flails to escape him. The two have become especially close friends over the past few months, and Sydney is silently appreciative of the fact that she's unlocked a playful side of him. However, she is still going to murder him in cold blood if he keeps this up.
"This is just unprofessional, chef," Carmy teases. A snort slips out between Sydney's giggles and he can't help from laughing right along with her.
"Fuhuhuck yohou! St-AHA-p!" Sydney blindly feels around behind her on the counter until she grabs the wooden spoon she was using. She flicks it at Carmy, sending droplets of sauce over his face. The largest splash of it lands in his hair.
Carmy lifts a hand to feel his hair and gapes at her as she smiles smugly back at him. He quickly shoots a hand to the sauce bowl and dips his fingers in it, flicking the sauce right back at Sydney.
"HEY! Oh, really? Really? You wanna do this?" Sydney retaliates by smearing the spoon over his forehead.
The battle was on, then. They abandon the food entirely, and when a truce was reached, the entire kitchen was a Pollock painting of orange splatter.
"I'm not helping you clean this," Sydney says, but she's already wiping down the wall.
Carmy huffs a laugh. "What do you say we eat first, damage control later?"
With Pride Month being here we will unfortunately see a lot of aphobia. The usual:
'you just haven't found the right one'
'are you x because you have suffered?'
'sex/romance is everything!'
'you're like an innocent child'
'you're a monster for not feeling (romantic) love'
'how can you write/draw smut or enjoy smut art if you're asexual?'
'how can you write/draw romance or enjoy romance art if you're aromantic?'
'you're going to die alone/be miserable without a partner!'
'that person't can't be your friend; must be your lover/crush'
No aphobia allowed. Asexuality and aromanticism is a spectrum. We're not all the same. I'm a sex-repulsed and romance-repulsed aro/ace. If you want to learn more research and kindly ask around. So Happy Pride Month to Aromantics, Asexuals, and Aroaces!
I cannot get over tickling someone while they're playing a video game.
Like I love watching people play video games, it's like watching a movie without the anxiety of having to actually play the game lmfao.
But what are my poor restless hands to do hmm? Sure I can scroll through my phone but my hands want something more y'know. Maybe I can poke you everytime you try jumping platform to platform and watch as you flinch and flail. All the while, of course, pretending I'm not doing anything! Because I'm not!
Maybe you finally won a really hard level and I'm hyping you up by scribbling my fingers up and down your ribs. I know I'm such a nice friend.
Perhaps you're playing a more chill game and I can offer you a massage. Tracing shapes onto your back or trailing my fingers up and down your legs.
Maybe I can play a game of my own~. It's called how many fingers walking up and down your feet does it take before you kick them away~.
A/N: Here's my first fic! The lack of Lee!TK fics (or Lone Star fics in general) is an actual crime. Let me know if the formatting is weird - I'm really not sure how posting works. Hope you enjoy!
The air in the ambulance was so fraught with tension it made TK want to squirm. He was glad he was driving so that he had something to do with his hands. Nancy sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, glaring out the front windshield like it had personally wronged her. TK couldn’t see Cap from where she sat at the back of the ambulance, but he’d bet his next paycheck that her lips were pressed into a thin, angry line.
And it wasn’t like TK didn’t know why. What he had pulled was, objectively, one of his stupider stunts. He could admit that. But when his patient had hysterically pulled off her oxygen mask to tell him that her six month old was still inside the burning house, strapped in his carseat in the kitchen, TK didn’t hesitate.
He knew he was a paramedic now, and not a firefighter. But there are some instincts that never change, even if your career path does.
TK took one look at the house and knew that he had seconds before it would flash over. He sprinted toward the open door, ignoring Nancy’s calls and Cap’s orders. Pulling his shirt up over his mouth and nose, thick black smoke stinging his eyes, TK found the carseat, grabbed it and flew back out the door.
He had taken six steps from the house before he felt the heat at his back intensify as the house flashed, and he knew he had come uncomfortably close to a one-way ride to the morgue. But at the mother’s hysterical gratitude as he placed her son safely back in her arms? TK knew he would do it all over again if he had to.
Unfortunately for TK, it did not seem that the rest of the firehouse shared that sentiment. He pulled the ambulance back into the station as the rest of the team hopped down from the truck. Marjan’s face was set into a glare, his Dad looked like he had just run an ultramarathon, Mateo looked like he was close to tears, and Judd… TK didn’t know if he had ever seen Judd quite this angry.
Swallowing back the fear that he was about to get scolded, TK swung down from the driver’s seat and started toward the stairs, eager to shower off the soot that now coated his body.
“Not a chance,” Marjan said, stepping in front of him, grabbing his shoulders, and spinning him back around, where Judd was waiting.
“Guys, come on, at least let me shower before you yell at me,” TK tried for humor. The twitch in Judd’s left eye told him exactly how well that landed.
“Give me your radio,” was what Judd said.
TK’s brow furrowed, confused, but he slowly lifted his radio off his duty belt and handed it to Judd.
Judd clicked the ‘on’ button, and the radio squawked to life in his hands. “Testing, testing,” he said. Everyone else’s radios echoed with Judd’s voice.
Judd, if possible, glowered even harder. “Well, would you look at that? Your radio isn’t broken. Clear as a bell, in fact.”
TK swallowed, shifting from foot to foot.
Judd continued, “Well, then, I would love to hear what circumstances prevented you from using your perfectly functioning radio at that house. Which is what you should have done, instead of charging in there like some kind of LUNATIC.” Judd shoved TK’s radio back into his chest.
TK stumbled back a step, before raising his chin defiantly. “Judd, listen, I-”
“You know, I don’t actually care to hear your excuses.” Judd poked a finger into TK’s chest, his Southern drawl becoming even more pronounced in his anger. “Because that stunt you pulled? Quite possibly the most reckless-” poke, “stupid-” poke, “feather-brained-” poke, “idiotic- are you laughing right now?”
TK’s eyes widened. He quickly schooled his features at the realization that Judd thought he was laughing at him. Frantically, he tried to think of an excuse. “No! God, no, Judd, I wouldn’t - I mean - it’s just -”
“It’s just that TK is probably the most ticklish person you will ever meet,” Captain Strand’s voice echoed from where he stood halfway up the stairs.
TK’s mouth dropped open in shock and betrayal. “Dad!”
“Sorry, TK,” Owen said in a tone that conveyed he was anything but, “I have to go and get started on the paperwork from the last call, which has doubled thanks to your actions, son. Good luck.” He turned to continue up the stairs, calling back over his shoulder, “Judd, don’t kill him.”
Horrified, TK turned back to Judd, whose expression might as well have spelled ‘danger’ in bright neon lights. Judd cracked his knuckles, mock saluting his retreating Captain. “Yes, sir.”
That snapped TK out of his frozen state. With a noise that could be described as a yelp, TK turned and ran, narrowly avoiding Marjan’s grasp. He dashed behind the ambulance, daring to look back behind him before suddenly crashing to the floor.
Blinking in shock, TK turned to see Nancy, her left boot stuck out to trip him. “Nance - what did I ever do to you?” he asked incredulously.
“You gave me a heart attack,” Nancy snapped, snatching his wrists and pulling them above his head. “Maybe this will remind you to use your brain once in a while.”
Judd and Marjan sauntered over to where Nancy had TK pinned. I should really ask her about her workout regiment, Tk thought to himself, tugging at his arms uselessly.
“Guys - wait - you really don’t have to -” TK babbled, grin already tugging at his lips.
“Oh, apparently we do,” Marjan said, eyes glittering in the light. “I personally think this is the perfect thing to knock some goddamn sense into you,” she said, kneeling at his left side. Judd took his place on his right, the both of them throwing their legs over his own so he couldn’t curl up.
“Oh god - Paul, Paul! You’re reasonable, make them stohoohop,” TK begged as Marjan started doing the finger wiggle thing, right above his ribs. “I’m fine! Not a scratch, Cap checked me out! So - so all’s well that ends well, right? Paul? Mateo? Somebody?”
“Yeah, that was the dumbest thing I’ve seen you do in a while, TK, which is saying something,” Paul called from where he was casually leaning against the truck. “Plus, I kind of want to see where this goes.”
“Nowhere! This goes nohohowhere, please, Judd, wait, Marjan you can’t-”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Strand,” Judd grinned. “We absolutely can.”
“No, no, nononohohohohoho,” TK giggled as Judd started squeezing his side and Marjan spidered her nails up and down his ribs.
“Good Lord, man, I’m barely even touching you,” Judd teased.
“Shut uhuhuhuhuuhup,” TK snickered, trying in vain to twist away from the overwhelming sensations.
“Awful brave talk from someone in your position,” Marjan said. She crawled her fingers into TK’s armpit, and he jerked, tumbling into loud belly laughter.
“PLEASE! It’s sohohohoho bahahahad,” he cackled.
Judd moved his hand down to squeeze at his hips, “D’aw, really? Good. It's about to get worse.”
“OhohohoOHOHOHO MY GAHAHAHAD,” TK shrieked, too preoccupied to be embarrassed at the way his protests echoed off the station walls.
“Aw, he’s blushing,” Marjan teased, quickly sneaking her nails underneath TK’s now-untucked shirt. “Poor thing! Can’t take it?”
“FUHUHUHUCK YOU MARJ!” TK yelled, twisting in vain to get away from those nails.
“Now, remind me what your job is TK?” Judd asked casually, as if he wasn’t currently sending TK into the absolute hysteria.
“What?” TK yelped.
“What. Is. Your. Job?” Judd asked again, punctuating each word with another devastating squeeze to his hips.
“PahahaharaMEDIC,” TK called out, gasping as Nancy started fluttering her fingers over his neck. He tossed his head from side to side, but each time she avoided him and continued her torment uninterrupted.
“Really? Paramedic? Not firefighter?” Judd asked.
“NohohohoOHOHOHO, JUDD,” TK laughed as he drummed his feet on the floor. Judd was merciless, pinching up to his belly and spidering his blunt nails over the skin.
“So you are not responsible for getting victims out of burning buildings?” Marjan asked, vibrating her fingers between each of his ribs.
“NOHOHOHO,” TK screamed, tears squeezing out from behind his scrunched up eyelids.
“Or running into situations with none of the proper protective gear?”
“Or flying solo? Ignoring your team, your captain?”
“NOHOHOHOHOHOHO,” TK wailed.
“Or -”
“Jesus, what did he do to deserve this?” A new voice called out from the entrance to the firehouse.
Judd and Marjan let up, but Nancy continued to spider her fingers around his neck, keeping TK giggling. He didn’t have to lift his head to know who it was.
“Carlos! Carlos they’re kihihihiling mehehe,” TK whined through his giggles, shooting a desperate look at his boyfriend who sauntered in with a lunch bag in his hand. “You’re a cohohop, arrest them.”
Carlos grinned. “Arrest them? For what?”
“Assahahahault and battery,” TK managed.
“I don’t think that would hold up in court, baby,” Carlos said. Then he turned to Paul. “No, seriously, what did he do?”
“Ran into a burning house with no backup and no gear to get a baby,” Paul said nonchalantly. “Hence this ‘reminder’ about his job description.”
“Is that so?” Carlos said, his voice dangerously calm. He turned toward TK and cocked his head to the side. “In that case, have you guys tried behind his knees?”
TK’s mouth dropped open again, before his eyes narrowed. “Oh, Carlos, you can go straight to heHEHEHEHEHEHEHELL.”
TK promptly lost his mind as Judd and Marjan began targeting his worst spot ruthlessly. Judd dug his fingers in behind his knees while Marjan fluttered hers, the conflicting sensations overloading TK’s nervous system.
“IHIHIHIH’M SOHOHOHOHOHRRY,” TK managed, before the tickles scrambled his brain so much that forming words became too difficult. His laugh went silent after a few moments, and Judd, Marjan, and Nancy took that as their cue to back off.
Nancy released his wrists and TK hugged his arms protectively around his ribs, still shaking with laughter.
“I think we broke him,” Nancy said, smiling.
“Good. Maybe he’ll actually think twice next time,” Judd said, accepting Carlos’ offered hand and heaving himself off the floor.
“Oho *hic* my gohohohohohod,” TK hiccupped, mustering the strength to lift one arm up and wipe away the tears on his face. “Thahat was soho *hic* mean.”
“Don’t be a baby,” Marjan teased.
“You took it like a champ, man,” Paul called over before heading up the stairs.
Judd fixed him with a stare. “The next time you end up in the hospital for something stupid, what I will do to you will make this look like a walk in the park.”
TK whined and hugged himself tighter, and Carlos laughed. He stuck his hand down to TK, who jumped at the sudden movement, blushing when he realized Carlos just meant to help him up. Carlos snorted.
“C’mon baby, let’s get you some water for those hiccups,” Carlos said, pulling TK up. TK staggered into Carlos, his legs retaining the structural integrity of a bowl of Jell-O.
“Water *hic* then a nap,” TK said, leaning more than half his weight on Carlos.
“Ok baby,” Carlos said. “Here - let me just -” and he swung TK up into his arms, bridal style. TK sighed gratefully, closing his eyes and pressing his head into Carlos’ neck as they made their way up the stairs.
“This is *hic* going to be how I *hic* actually die,” TK mumbled. “Still can’t believe *hic* you told them about my *hic* fucking knees.”
coming up with a plan to explain to my friends that yes i like tickling sexually but also LOVE nonsexually OKAY like it’s not off limits like actually it’s very on limits like actually i just love it period and actually pls do it to me and tease me about it and also maybe let me do it to you if you want to okay like its not like you’re grabbing my pussy like.. you’re grabbing.. my heart <3 okay i gotta go
it doesn't have to be like rough naked kinky hardcore like it can just be silly goofy fun like just like <3 like.. okay ? like just in passing like it doesnt have to be serious like dont worry about it and also dont judge me but also maybe perahps indulge me okay ??? okay it is like hug.. biting... dont worry about it its another dimension of play fighting like dont worry about it......... oh jmy god pls put me out of my misery i hate explaining this i need to block everyone ive ever met in my life ever
It’s always so hard to describe what it is to people. The phrase nonsexual fetish is literally inherently contradictory but it’s what I go with. Because I happen to be ace AND not into sex AND tickling kind of replaced what I imagine would be a very active sex control loop in my brain long before puberty. But like. Literally basically any one of my friends could tickle me for an extended period of time and I would thank them.
Suggestion for the voice acting thingy: Alastor finds out Vox's lil antennas on his head are deathly ticklish >:3
Also hope you are having a great day!
What more can you ask for than a playful ler and a modern tech disaster lee? There were a LOT of asks for more lee!Vox and this one was particularly cute! I tried out some more with sound effects and stuff. Let me know if you like it :>
There was also an ask for “How would Alastor react to a lee not pushing him away” that inspired this but I lost it oops
"You can use your stand to catch a bullet, but you can't use your stand to block some tickles?"
Lee Jotaro/Ler Kakyoin
Have fun 🥰💖🫶🏾
{Puffs are officially CLOSED}
AHH FRIEND! *hugs* I adore Lee!Jotaro so much! This was an absolute blast to write for you! I hope you like it :)
Star Platinum was an incredible Stand. It didn’t matter what it was- if it had even the slightest inkling that Jotaro was in trouble, it’d appear to stop it in its tracks.
Because of this, Jotaro was willing to take a few risks. Nothing extreme, but if he knew Star Platinum had his back, he’d do it without thought.
Today though? He took a risk he wasn’t prepared for at all.
~~~
“I just don’t get it.” Kakyoin mused, a cheeky grin on his face as he hovered over Jotaro. “You can use your stand to stop bullets, but not tickles?”
“S-Shut up, Kak! Hmph-” The bigger man pressed his lips into a flat line, willing himself not to break as the redhead dug into that terrible spot along the center of his ribs. He should have known better than to entertain Kakyoin’s question. What else did he expect when that cherry loving bastard looked at him and said “Hey, are you ticklish?”
Looking back- he should have just ran.
“So rude, Jojo! I thought we were friends!” Kakyoin stuck out his bottom lip for a proper pout, unable to keep it as Jotaro finally broke into laughter. “Come on, use your stand to stop me!”
“Thahahat’s nohohohot how iihihiht wohohohhorks! Gohohohoohd griehehehehehef, whohohould you geheheheht?” Jotaro tried to pry off the other’s hands, but Kakyoin was surprisingly fast when he wanted to be. Any and all attempts were easily evaded as new tickle spots were found. “Sthahahap, stahhahahahap!”
“So the great Jostars do have a weakness.” Kakyoin giggled, sweeping his hand up to squeeze the star birthmark along his shoulder, making Jotaro scrunch up with a choked swear. “What a cute reaction- I think I’m starting to feel inspired for my next painting. Think the other crusaders would like it?”
“Thahahaht’s it!” With a sudden burst of strength, Jotaro had turned the tables, shoving Kakoin off of him and into the bed. “Try to use your stand to stop me!”
“Wait, Jotaro! I was kihihiihihihihdding!”
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