> my name is logan, you can also call me husk‼️ I use they/he pronouns, i am lesbian, agender(? I’m still questioning) and demisexual. i have suspected OCD and depression, and i am a husk & wolverine fiction kin. my personality type is ISTJ and uhhh yeah idk what else to put here
> i am a minor🥹 so aside from the occasional sexual jokes that I’ll make, or any stuff like that this blog is SFW! meaning there will not be any serious NSFW content. i am not into tickling, I never have been! this whole blog and my liking towards tickling is simply a form of comfort and/or playful fun. if you are an NSFW blog or are above the age of like— 29+, please do not directly interact with me. you can like my posts or reblog them, but pleaseeeee pleasepleaseplease do not comment, dm or follow me. if you ignore this and do so, i will block you! or I’ll ragebait you because i find it really funny when grown men get pissed off at me BUT MOST OF THE TIME you will be blocked. ok? ok
> my main fandoms atm are hazbin, tadc and tmf! i am in other fandoms, but i probably won’t post or talk about them much. the fics I make are most of the time revolved around having, but i will drop a tmf fic once in a while!(if season 2 ever comes out.😑) so yeah.
> i am a switch‼️ 50% lee, 50% ler. I will warn you now if you want me to yknow— tease you or anything i am not the greatest at it, a couple of people have made that very clear🥹 so keep that in mind before asking. and also feel free to send teases, tkl related questions etc etc in my asks(please do i get very bored) ok!
> asks are 100% open! i write fics and headcanons so please feel free to send me some requests on what you’d like to see (strictly hazbin and tmf only on the fics IMSORRY im not good at writing anything else but headcanons are open for any fandom im in)
> ALSO because i know I’ve worried people with this before— i am very rude when I’m flustered. i promise you 99% of the time you have done nothing wrong, nor do i mean the rude shit i say when I’m trying to “defend” myself. It doesn’t mean i want you to stop, nor does it mean im genuinely mad at you i just get VERY “aggressive” for some reason.
Tag List:
#logan speaks — rants, vents, just me talking
#logan's lee moods — leeposting from me
#logan's ler moods — lerposting from me
#logan's switch moods — switchposting from me
#logan's fics — my fics AND headcanon posts because l'm too lazy to make a headcanon tag
#logan's asks — my ask posts
tkl spot thing:
(this is fully based on self tkls and/or accidental tkls. I’ve never been genuinely tickled before so bare with me)
okay I think that’s it
again, feel free to send asks and DMs‼️ I don’t bite I swear
Her silhouette was the one thing he never could lose.
Every molecular atom that composed her presence in his life had faded away into a tender hurt, like a day’s old bruise, but the outline of her remained cemented in his subconscious; his memories were coated in a thick layer of Vaseline, distorting the finer details into indistinguishable mush, yet he was still able to realize that something was so very deeply wrong.
Someone was missing: someone whom he had pledged his undying love towards many kisses ago, someone whose gentle nature had only encouraged his own to reach new depths…someone who he had held close to his chest like a small child when she needed it, needed a beacon of light to guide her through the constant rainstorm that seemed to be feasting off of her like a leech, and someone who he had sung to softly while she cried - God, it ripped his very soul in two just to see her cry…she had an ache that he couldn’t quite mend, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t give it his all to do so.
Somebody else was saying something on the outer edge of his consciousness, he could feel it.
“No, please, let me sleep awhile longer - let me dream a little more…”
His plea meant nothing to the fickle whims of his decaying mind, of course - it was all starting to swirl together into nothing at all, like water draining from the bathtub. He wanted to gulp it all down like a man left to die of thirst, wanted to quench his insatiable yearning for the woman who had been there to help him navigate his deepest valleys, but he had no mouth from which to drink. He was drowning - no, it could never be considered drowning when the ocean was that of her loveliness - he was being swept away by the waves of a heartbreak so primal it made the marrow of his bones cry out in agony, and his lungs were failing him just as they had when she had first asked him to dance with that sheepish smile on her lips.
…What was her name again?
“Jax! Stop putting mashed potato on Kinger’s head! It’s so mean…”
That was Ragatha who was standing in front of him, hands on her hips as she admonished whomever she was speaking to. He knew her - red curls, careworn face - and he felt pride because of it…why was that? Was he proud of her in particular? She seemed like a nice enough young woman - perhaps a bit overworked if anything. That constant crease of worry between her brows was something you weren’t supposed to adopt until your late forties at the least, and he was fairly certain that she was nowhere near that age…then again, perhaps she was a mother? It felt like she was most likely talking to her child, after all.
“Whahahat, he likes it…!”
Oh, that would explain it: Jax, the newcomer, was sitting by his side. Spry, chipper, and very young - he had taken to all of this much better than either of them had anticipated, or so he thought…hadn’t he? Looking at him filled him with the same mixture of emotions that he might have felt when regarding a puppy in a shelter’s kennel (or perhaps a rabbit in the case of his avatar) - an almost feral instinct to protect encumbered by no small amount of pity.
Those cartoonish pupils were looking at him expectantly, but he couldn’t for the life of him imagine why - it was hard to concentrate when his face felt so cold and strangely mushy.
Ah, of course.
“Oh, hey, Jax! I love when you put mashed potato on my head.”
It wasn’t the truth, but he supposed it wasn’t entirely a lie either - keeping the grin affixed to the younger man’s face felt more important than ceasing some mild physical discomfort, after all.
“You see?!” he snorted triumphantly, rearing up a fork and the serving tureen full of the artificial gloop like a painter would with his palette and brush.
Kinger just hoped none of it would wind up in his eyes.
“Jax, I’m being serious,” Ragatha continued in exasperation, but her features seemed to have grown just a touch milder. “That stuff’ll harden up soon enough, and I don’t think Caine’s improved any on removing it…besides, doesn’t he look good enough as is?”
Jax pondered the posed query, observing the full set of facial hair the chess piece now wore, before he blew out a longsuffering sigh that whistled through his teeth. “Fine,” he conceded as he relinquished the side dish into the pair of expectant fabric arms. “I guess you’re right, dollface - I’ll get ol’ King Coo-Coo over here cleaned up.”
“Don’t call him that,” she answered almost automatically. Then, after a moment of thought, “Don’t call me that…”
“What - you’re a doll who’s got a face. I thought it seemed pretty appropriate,” he replied with a doe-like innocence, but the soft shadow of a drawl on the underside of his tone gave a much different impression. “Would just ‘doll’ suit ya better?”
“No.” She was warding off a smile. “Just my name’ll do nicely.”
“Augh, but that’s so long - seven whole letters…! How about Raggy, huh? Much more efficient than that other one, right?”
“Oh, gosh, fine!” she caved with a fond roll of her eyes. Her face was flushed a pleasant rosy hue that was just a few shades off from that which hung from her head. “You can call me Raggy if you’d like to…now I’m gonna go put this away so somebody won’t be tempted, and that beard had better be gone by the time I get back.”
“Whatever you say, Mom…”
Kinger watched her retreat with a loud bark of laughter trailing behind her, and was suddenly awash with the warm glow of pride all over again; he barely registered the light pressure of a cloth napkin gently mopping the starchy substance off of his eyebrows, for he was too preoccupied with fighting to remember why exactly this remarkable woman stirred up such a strong emotion within his soul. A part of him longed to hold her - to cradle her in his arms like a swaddled infant, and whisper sweet nothings into the softness of her cheek until those great droplets of tears had all but dried up - then again…there was no reason to do such a thing, right? She hadn’t been crying when he’d seen her moments ago, had she…?
The sudden shock of soft microfibers gently sweeping back and forth over the crook of his neck had appeared in the center of the tracks, and his already stuttering train of thought had no other choice but to completely derail itself.
“A-aha!” he yelped, shoulders hunching as he trembled with titters like a leaf caught up in a summer storm; soft pinpricks of painless electricity were coursing through him, drawing forth chortle after chortle from his absent vocal chords.
“Hohold still!” the lavender lagomorph chuckled. “Sheesh, Kings, you trying to get me in hot water with Raggy already? And here I thought we were friends…”
“Ihi can’t hehelp it!” he spluttered sheepishly as the last of the smeared food was wiped clean, and he found that he had brought one of his hands up to guard where his mouth ought to have been at some point without realizing it. “Jax, y-you’re tickling me…!”
Tickling - that was the term he had been searching for. That little soft spot at the halfway point between an itch and pain that humans had inherited as a defense mechanism, but was more often used among their kin as a sort of bonding assistance tool. The word was shaded fondly in the fog of his mind’s eye, although he was having trouble imagining why - after all, this little buzzing around his neck felt quite maddening indeed.
Jax raised one of his thin black eyebrows in an expression that was standing squarely on the corner of bemusement and straight up incredulity, his head tilting to the corresponding side in a decidedly owlish manner, as his lips slowly curled back into a toothy half-smile. “Seriously? That was enough to tickle you?” he scoffed in rapidly mounting disbelief. “I barely touched you!”
Kinger could feel his face flush with the heat of his own surging blood, even though he wasn’t entirely sure why - this was what people did when they were tickled, wasn’t it? Laugh? “W-well,” he stammered, “I happen to be particularly ticklish-“
“Particularly ticklish?!” Jax echoed with a slight laugh. “Geeheez, this is some pretty sensitive information you’re giving away there, Gramps! If it fell into the wrong hands, you could be in some serious trouble…”
Kinger wasn’t entirely sure what the younger man meant by that, but the look on his face was making him feel…fluttery? Was that the right word? His lips twitched with the urge to grin from ear to ear, and his tummy rumbled with the first bubbles of giggles that almost felt predetermined to be leaving his mouth at some point…but why on earth was that the case? Nobody had said anything funny, had they?
…What were they talking about? Where was he?
“Hey. Earth to King Crazy.”
He returned to the present with a sharp exclamation of surprise, but his dilated pupils soon focused on the man sitting in the chair off to his left. “Oh, hey, Jax!” he greeted warmly. “You startled me…were we talking about something?”
At this, the rabbit’s eyes narrowed due to the vastly increased width of his own sly grin.
“Oh yeah, we were talking about something. In fact, you’d just agreed to help me out with a little problem I have!”
“I did?”
“Sure ya did! You see, I couldn’t help but wonder just how ticklish the king of this castle really is…”
“…Huh!” Kinger marveled with such naïveté that it was almost painful. “Well, I’m not familiar with any members of the royal family myself, buhuhuhut-! Jahax, be cahareful, Ihi’m r-really tihicklish thehehehere…!”
“Wow, I hadn’t noticed,” the other drawled sarcastically. He had reached up to fiddle with the cross atop the wooden head experimentally at first, but now that he had gotten the reaction he had been seeking he was prodding at it like one would with a D-pad on a controller. His long ears twitched curiously at the sound his touch provoked. “…Dude, are you giggling?”
“Ihi cahan’t heeheeheelp ihit!” Kinger whined for the second time without knowing it, his mirth having indeed reached a vastly higher register than before, and his hands flitted about uselessly in their harried quest to push the young man away. It felt like his body was turning all gooey and warm inside, almost like he had eaten a whole jar of molasses; what part of his brain that had managed to gather enough cognition to do so was urging him to get away from the near constant buzz, but his physical form itself longed to recline into the touch like a cat sprawling out beneath a sunbeam. “Ohoh, pleeheeheeheeeease!”
“Please what?” Jax nearly purred with half-lidded eyes of honeyed derision. “Please…tickle you more? Pretty weird thing to ask, but far be it from me to turn down royalty!”
A shrill squawk of shocked amusement rippled throughout the big top tent like a starting gun to announce the beginning of a race, for there was now a second yellow-gloved hand intentionally scrabbling at the opposite side of Kinger’s varnished wooden neck.
Jax barked out a laugh of his own. “HA! Wahas that a yelp?!”
“Naht the tihickles!” the middle-aged man pleaded as though he were still a small child. “Naht the tickles!” He managed to gather his bearings enough to turn himself towards the rabbit a bit more in the hopes of having a better chance at fending him off. “Wahahahait-!”
“Jax, let him go…”
His body sagged in the chair as the hands blessedly retreated, leaving him to greedily gulp down lungfuls of air that he no longer required. The looking glass of his awareness fogged over with a sudden rush of endorphins, the same way steam clung to the cool edge of the bathroom mirror after a hot shower, and he felt a pit he hadn’t even registered was in the bottom of his stomach stop yawning somewhat.
Huh.
Ragatha had returned, arms crossed in a sort of disappointed disciplinarian reminiscent pose, but if he didn’t know any better he could have sworn there was a glimmer of fondness shimmering in the iris of her only functioning eye. “You have to be gentle with him, okay?” she explained patiently. “He doesn’t have the stamina like you and I do.”
“So, what I’m hearing is that you’re the only one who’s allowed to tickle him,” Jax concluded, effortlessly twisting her words like they were made of rubber.
“That’s not what I-!”
“Or would you rather be in his place? I didn’t take ya for the jealous type, dollface!”
This time, she really did turn as red as her hair. “I did not-!”
He cut her off with his own bout of raucous laughter, exceedingly proud of himself. “I’m just messin’ with ya, Raggy,” he insisted with a dismissive wave of his dominant hand. “C’mon, lemme tickle ol’ Kings over here for a bit - he’s funny! I promise you’ll still have your monarch by the time I’m through with him. Besides…”
Kinger blinked a few times in rapid succession when the other fluttered his lashes up at him in an unspoken plea towards getting his own way.
“He doesn’t mind, does he? I mean, I’m having loads of fun over here…sure would be a shame if I had to stop so soon…”
Although he was already beginning to lose his grasp on the thread that linked the two of them together for the time being via conversation, the warm golden gemstones of happiness still glittered brightly behind his ribcage. It had felt so torturous in the moment, whatever this thing he was being asked to do was, but at the same time it had left him feeling as light as a feather from within…when was the last time he had felt like that - so happy he was almost floating? When was the last time…whoever this was looking at him like that had felt that way too?
“N-noho,” he finally collected himself enough to answer with one last residual chuckle, “I…I don’t mind.”
“There, see?” Jax crowed as he turned the pleading look onto the ragdoll now.
That seemed to do away with the last of her hesitation.
“…Five minutes,” Ragatha relented with the ghost of a smile haunting her lips. “Then I’m coming back out here, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jax gave her an overexaggerated salute.
Kinger watched her go the same as he had last time, her curls bouncing merrily over her patchwork dress, and felt another bit of lead be exiled from the holding deck that was his soul. It seemed as though she carried those same gems around with her in a basket, eagerly taking the heavy stone from others in exchange for one of them; he hoped he’d given her back some of the precious minerals, but there was no sense in combing through his memory in the hopes of finding out for sure.
He then turned his gaze back to the newest member, and felt a shiver trail its icy fingers down his spine.
Jax was staring at him with a grin that was not befitting of a prey animal. “Looks like it’s just you and me, huh, Kinger-Boy?”
He swallowed dryly.
“I’ve only got five minutes to spare before ol’ dolly dearest swoops in to rescue you, so I guess I’d better make them count, right?” the rabbit, who was now more akin to a hare, simmered rhetorically.
Kinger nodded before he regained control over the facilities that would allow him to prevent it.
“Yeah? You think that sounds good?” He curled his right hand into a vaguely claw-like shape, and his fingers twitched in a wriggling gesture that could only entail one thing. It was plain to see that he was relishing in his newfound position of power.
Despite not knowing the precise reason why, the chess piece giggled at the sight of those dancing fingertips. He could feel his face growing warm beneath the chill of his wooden exterior, and the hazy memory of hiding under the covers from his mother wanting to play this same game with him before bed in his youth came floating back to him.
“I haven’t even touched you yet, Kings~!” Jax nasalized in mocking infantilization, and the glint he acquired just beyond his eyes at the soft whine of anticipation it earned him was enough to make it feel like the temperature of the room had just dropped by several degrees. “And would ya look at that: you even gave me a whole new set of spots to play with! So, which one’s the most ticklish?”
“Ihi don’t know!” Kinger tittered truthfully.
“Is it your armpits? Ribs? Or maybe your sides…?” Here Jax paused to consider the other for a moment. “Well, technically all you’ve got are your sides, so maybe the stomach’s a better option…”
An unexpected pang of realization bolted through Kinger’s nervous system when that writhing gloved hand lingered over his midsection, closely followed by a cyclone of butterflies in its wake. “Jax!” he squealed. “Naht the tummy…!”
“…Tummy?” Jax peered past the confines of the narration to look directly at you. “Are we serious? How old are you again? Y’know what, now it’s definitely gonna be the ‘tummy’, just for that.”
“Nooohoohoohoohoooooh!”
The chess piece attempted to toss his head back with a shrill shriek of nasally laughter when eight very determined fingers started to claw up and down his stomach, only to fail for the simple reason that it was no longer a separate body part from his neck. His hands flapped frantically at his sides, as if he was trying to gain enough friction to propel himself away from the situation he had found himself in, and he quivered with mirth as the fur lining of his lush purple robe sent additional ticklish pulses through his nervous system.
“Well, whaddaya know?” Jax pitched over the baseline humdrum of physically induced amusement. “Looks like the king’s got a ticklish tummy~!”
“Eheheh! I-Ihi dohohohoo!”
“…You admit to these things way too easily, Kings,” he chuckled with an endeared roll of his eyes, even while he refused to cease his ticklish endeavors. “By the way, I don’t think you’re laughing as hard as you should be - let’s try this out.”
The hands shifted their efforts to rapidly goosing Kinger’s belly in one quarantined zone at a time, and the royal’s reactions pitched back down into almost drunken-sounding chortles as a result. “Huhuhuhuhuhuhueeheheheheh!” A loud snort severed his hysteria in two, and he shut his eyes to avoid looking at the smug expression thus painted on the other’s face that flustered him so. “Mmfffeeeheehehehehehehh!”
“Hey, there’s something new~!” Jax boasted triumphantly. “Maybe Caine should have made your avatar a little piggy with how you snort, huh? After all, you don’t seem very regal to me right now…aren’t kings, you know, not supposed to be ticklish? Imagine if you got captured by some nefarious villain, and the only thing separating the rest of us from their wrath is your ability to withstand a little tickling? We’d be toast! I mean, all they’d have to do is go ‘Gitchygitchygitchy!’ and you’d-“
“Eeeheeheeep!” Kinger hiccuped while he hunched in on himself like a beetle stuck on its shell, and his hands found purchase at long last when they came to rest atop the rabbit’s bony shoulders. “Nohohohoo! Eheheheheeh! Ihi cahahaan’t!”
Jax, the likes of whom was anything but unobservant, actually came to a standstill at the abruptly sharp nature of such a reaction. His pupils flitted over the trembling form of his captive like a xerox machine might over a sheet of printer paper, and then they grew as wide as dinner saucers in an unfocused gaze that left him looking decidedly starved.
“No, wait, don’t tell me. Let me test something…”
Upon being left to dangle beneath that intrepid stare, the king found that he much preferred to have his hands covering his face to avoid feeling like a fox ensnared in a hunter’s trap.
Jax cracked his knuckles with a sickening pop from his artificial skeletal structure, a sound that made the other man titter in giddy fear, and he then drew in a great lungful of air that provided him with the stamina necessary to pitch his voice up into a saccharinely sugary croon: “A-gitchy goo, tickle tickle tickle~! I found your tickle spot~!”
Kinger split apart into raucous cackles like an egg dropped straight into a cast-iron skillet - there was no hope of him being able to restrain said noises even if he truly desired to, despite his gloved palms dampening their volume minutely. He twisted this way and that as his supposed tormentor’s thumbs drilled into where the divots of his belly ought to have been, a place that was apparently devilishly sensitive for him (he could just catch the outline of a memory rife with freshly manicured nails before it had gone again), but he found that the tone of voice being used against him was far more ticklish than any wiggling finger or feather could ever dream of being.
It didn’t take long before Jax was cackling as well, the sound of his shared mirth brash and somewhat prickly. “Are you f[%$!#]g kidding me?!” he wheezed while the cartoonish splat that redacted his foul language from the listening ear rattled within both of their skulls. “That’s what gets you?! F[%$!#]g baby-talk?! You’re way past the age where that should be getting you, big guy…”
“IHIT’S TICKLISH!” Kinger shrieked - his brain was unable to create a better rebuttal.
“Naw, is it ticklish~?” Jax mocked, effortlessly slipping back into that patronizing drawl. “Does the widdle baby have a ticklish tummy-wummy~? Huh~? Does it tickle-wickle too much for the itty-bitty widdle Kingy-wingy~?”
The poor man was hiccuping with laughter by now, and his shoulders hitched with each tiny squeak of bubbly joy.
“Oh my god, you sound like a rubber duck! Who’s a ticklish widdle ducky~? Who’s caught in my little tickle trap~?”
“Ihi cahaahaahaahaaahaaahaaa…!”
“What’s that? You can~? See, that’s what I like about you, Gramps - such confidence that you can take on the Tickle Monster~!”
Oh dear God.
“NO!” Kinger screamed so violently that it made the lagomorph stop dead in his tracks. “Naht the Tickle Monster, pleheease naht the Tihickle Mahnsteher! H-hehe’ll gohobble me uhup…!”
That was what the Tickle Monster did, wasn’t it? He could almost swear that the distant recollection of perfectly white teeth gnawing tenderly on his strange trunk of a body was scratching against the stained glass of his distilled mind, but it all grew entirely incoherent whenever he tried to pin it down beneath his thumb.
The expression which Jax’s face donned was that of a kid who had just finished tearing the wrapping paper off one of the presents Santa had left for him on Christmas morning, and was now eager to discover what kind of buttons and flashing lights his shiny new toy had for him to play with. “Oh, he’s gonna gobble you up, that’s for sure…after all, you did kinda rob him of all his food by being such a willing canvas earlier! It’s only fair that he gets to have your belly as a little snack in return, isn’t it? After all, all this tickling makes ya - er, him work up an appetite!”
One lanky forearm snaked behind Kinger’s lower back, successfully arching his abstract torso up off the dining room chair, and he quickly dissolved into a near puddle of jittery babbling soon thereafter. “Wahahait! WaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaHAHAHAAAIITT!”
Jax disregarded the pleas for mercy with all of his usual tact, having instead chosen to all but headbutt the other’s midriff with a throaty growl before chewing directly on top of his robe with a set of jagged teeth that were successfully cushioned just enough to be pushed back to the other side of painful.
“NAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHOOOOO!” he screeched while he flopped about in his captor’s hold like a beached whale. “T-TIHIhickle Mahanster, pleheHEEHEEHEEASE! D-DOHON’T EEHEEAT MY BEHEHEELLLYYY!” While he was granted a short reprieve when the bunny had to spit out a few strands of spotted white fur, the nibbles were largely as incessant and pitiless as he liked to think he remembered them being; his hands, at a loss for what to do with themselves, stuttered in midair until they eventually settled for clenching into (quite literal) white-knuckled fists cinched tightly at his waistline. He snorted again, but he was too busy being utterly accosted by a thick swarm of butterflies (perhaps by now they had swapped places with a similarly sized group of moths instead) within his buzzing stomach to be embarrassed by the sound. “OHOH GAHAHAHAAD! HEHEHEHEHEEELLLP!”
To his immense relief, the beast appeared to be satiated with the feast shortly thereafter; the hungry maw relinquished his abdomen free of any fanfare, and he lolled down into the grasp that now felt like it was there to cradle him as opposed to keep him prisoner. He couldn’t stop chortling to save his own skin, an organ that he no longer possessed, but it felt oddly serene to be left so helpless. A frothy wave of molten happiness swept in to kiss at his toes playfully from where he stood on the shoreline, and warm rays of dappled sunlight sprout from the seedling of affection until they’ve bloomed a garden that encompassed his figure in its entirety. Still he continued to swell with the last lingering droplets of humor, even while his eyelids began to grow heavy, until it dawned on him that his own laughter was not the only kind to greet his unseen ears.
“…Oh, hehey, Jax!”
Said man had doubled over in his seat, his lithe frame compressed with silent snickers like a morbidly stowed accordion, and it took him nearly half a minute more to smooth out the creases of his own clumsily crumpled frame. “Oh, man,” he exhaled while he wiped a budding tear from his waterline. “I gotta say, Kings, you really crack me up…”
Then he had reached out to stabilize himself with a hand on the other’s kneecap, and the comedown was brilliantly fractured into a hundred or so odd pieces.
“TICKLES!” Kinger screeched while he bucked so hard that the chair he had been sitting in clattered onto its back on the checkerboard floor, and he tumbled out of it in a limbless heap of spluttering giggles. “Ihit tihihihihiHICKLEEESSSSS!”
Jax had followed his descent like a hawk to a field mouse, something that had subsequently caused the older man to roll onto his frontside in a desperate attempt to scramble away, whereupon he perched himself atop the robed spine to dig into an approximation of the knee pits with a kind of sadistic glee that was at odds with the soft composition of his avatar. “Oh, Kinger! Don’t tell me you were going to keep such a fun spot hidden from little ol’ me~! Didn’t I ask you to tell me which one was the most ticklish, huh? Didn’t I~?”
“NAHT MY K-KNEEHEEHEEHEEESSS, AHANYWHERE EHEHEHEELLSSEEE!” the chess piece begged as though his very life depended on it, all but screaming with laughter while he slapped an open palm against the linoleum in a fruitless bid to distract himself from the overwhelming sensation. He couldn’t imagine that there would be a place more ticklish than this one - if there was, he didn’t know if he could bear it…hell, he was scarcely able to cope with it now.
“What if I don’t wanna go anywhere else?” Jax posited impishly. “What if I wanna keep on tickle-tickle-tickling right here~?”
“Aww, is this the king’s widdle giggle spot~? Huh? Is this where he likes his tickles most of all~? Is this where I should stay forever and-?”
“Jax, slow down!”
The rabbit’s ears flattened themselves against the top of his head as he turned to look at a rapidly reapproaching Ragatha almost sheepishly. “Five more minutes?” he half-joked like a kid asking their older sibling to extend their turn with the console.
“He’ll have passed out by then, look at him!” the doll spluttered in bewilderment. “I told you that he’s not cut out for too much roughhousing!”
“Relax, buttons and bows, we don’t even need to breathe in here! Besides, he’s a grown man - you can take it, can’t ya, Kings~?”
Sensing the desperation rapidly bleeding into Kinger’s wheezing cackle, she played her best hand. “You’re doing it wrong.”
Sure enough, Jax’s antics came to an immediate halt. “Huh?”
“You don’t need to be so harsh with him,” Ragatha explained while trying her best to keep her own relief hidden below the surface, “because a gentle touch usually works best. Here, come sit next to me so I can show you.”
Kinger, who had not wasted a moment of the respite by failing to gather himself, was still coughing up hiccuping titters when she gently rolled him right side up again. Struck by a rare moment of clarity, he buried his face in the soft plush of her shoulder at the thought of what was to come. “Ohoh no…”
“So, you kind of just…rub your hand up against his robe like this-“
The cocoon of fur that the man was encased in began to shift around like one extraordinarily ticklish hug, and before he knew it he was back to shrieking with boyish giggles that should have been well behind him. His hands flapped, betraying his undeniable happiness despite the slight inner turmoil, and he turned on his side to cling to the woman most adorably. “Heheheheheheehh! It - ihit tihickles!”
“You see?” Ragatha hummed while she turned to look at Jax almost expectantly. “It doesn’t take much to get him going.”
“Eh, I think I was better off on my own,” the rabbit insisted with a shrug of his shoulders. “You’re too cutesy for this hard life of tickling, dollface.”
She knew that he was just trying to get under her skin - she could see it in the corners of his smile - but she still couldn’t help the soft shudder that ran through her at how clearly he enunciated that dreaded verb. “Tickling’s meant to be cutesy,” she argued, although most of her attention was dedicated to the recovering ‘lee. “Are you alright, Kinger?”
He nodded - truth be told, he was more alright than he had been in what felt like an age.
“Here - help me get him to bed.”
“Naw, Saint Raggy over here, helping the poor and the needy…”
“Cohome on, give me a hand!”
While the two familiar strangers bantered around him, a little golden butterfly came to rest atop Kinger’s head.
because you like to be defensive and stubborn and all “iM nOt A gIgGlEbUg” and “iM nOt AdOrAbLe” and “iM nOt PrEcIoUs” and blah blah blah when you know you are
dont imagine someone slowly pushing your shirt up. dont imagine calloused fingers sliding up your ribs. dont imagine a voice cooing at you about how squirmy youre getting. dont imagine them dragging you back because you managed to get away. don't imagine them looking you in the eyes and telling you how cute you look, how preciously your eyes scrunch up when you laugh. whatever you do, don't imagine their fingers getting between every rib, sliding closer and closer to your underarms as they tease you and try to get you to hold still. don't ever fucking imagine how caring they are after the tickling is over, how they hold you close. get you water, maybe a snack if you want it. how they let you snuggle up to them. don't ever imagine that.
