-Racists, Russophobes (I'm Russian, and I don't want to hear any rude words directed at me), homophobes, anyone over 19+ (I mean, if you want to make friends, sorry, I feel very insecure with people who are much older than me) , political discussions, animal abusers, sexists.
if you receive this, you make somebody happy! go on anon and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up.If you get one back, even better! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )~☆
this fic contains tickling!! if not your thing, keep scrolling darling <3
"Right there," Jisung mumbled, his voice already hazy with relaxation. "That's the spot, Min."
Minho hummed in acknowledgment, his thumbs pressing firm, deliberate circles into the base of Jisung’s neck. It was intimate in a way that made Minho’s heart feel full. He loved getting to spend time with his boyfriend, to be able to take care of him after he does so much for the city.
“That’s it,” Minho murmured, pressing deeper. “You were so tense. What were you even doing all day?”
“Mm… training,” Jisung mumbled into the pillow. “Swinging. Saving. You know. Hero stuff.”
Minho rolled his eyes fondly. “Right. Hero stuff.” He worked his way down Jisung’s spine, following the curve of each vertebra, and Jisung melted further into the sheets, boneless and pliant. This was the good part—the quiet, the warmth, the way Minho’s hands knew exactly where to press.
Minho's hands travel absentmindedly to Jisung's back ribs. Jisung’s entire body jerked. A high-pitched shriek, half-surprise and half-pain, tore from his throat, and he instinctively tried to scramble away, his whole body jolting.
Minho’s hands shot back, and he sighed, a long, weary sound. "Why did you do that?"
Jisung, still trembling from the shock, whined into his pillow. "You know why! It's the same reason you tied me down!"
"Because you have crazy reflexes, baby." Minho said, his voice patient but exasperated. "I touch one sensitive spot and I’m webbed to the ceiling. I have to keep you in place."
Jisung’s arms were stretched out above his head, his face still planted firmly in the pillow.
He didn't fight it. In fact, he felt a new wave of relaxation wash over him. He was anchored, secure. He melted even further into the sheets, a small, happy sigh escaping his lips.
Minho’s hands found his back again, resuming the deep, soothing strokes. It was so good. So good. His muscles sang. He was practically purring.
Until the fingers started wandering again. This time, they crept slowly, deliberately, towards his sides and the sensitive ribs on his back. Minho’s thumbs pressed in, just a little, right into that spot.
Jisung squealed, a sound that was pure, unadulterated panic mixed with mirth. He jolted so hard that the headboard creaked, but the ties held. He arched his back, trying to escape the relentless touch, his laughter already bubbling up in his throat.
"Jisung!" Minho’s voice was sharp with warning. He pulled his hands away. "Stop squirming so much!"
Jisung let out a howling, giggling whine, his whole body shaking. "I cahahan't! It tihickles! It tihihihihickles!"
Minho stared down at his boyfriend, who was now a bundle of uncontrollable giggles and flailing limbs, tied securely to the bed. A familiar, fond smile touched his lips. He had a choice. He could be the kind, patient partner and move on. Or he could indulge in a little mischief.
The latter was infinitely more appealing.
"You're a menace," Minho says, and his voice had gone low and teasing. "A menace who needs to learn to take a massage like a grown-up."
And then his thumbs dug into Jisung's back ribs.
Jisung lost it.
"WAHAHAHAIT!! NOHOHO!! MINHO!!—" He couldn't even form words, his body convulsing beneath Minho's hands, laughter ripping out of him in desperate, howling peals.
He was flopping up and down like a fish that had been thrown onto a dock, the rope creaking as he yanked against it. His face was buried in the pillow, but that didn't muffle the sound—high and wheezy and completely out of control.
Minho didn't stop. He just kept pressing his thumbs into the spaces between Jisung's ribs, tracing slow circles, working the sensitive spots that made Jisung scream.
"Are you going to man up or not?" Minho asked, his voice maddeningly calm, almost bored.
"I CANT! MIHIHIHIHINHO I CAHAHAHAN'T!! PLEASE NO NOHOHOT THEEHEHERE!!"
Minho's fingers had slid to his shoulder blades, vibrating against the bones and the spaces between.
The sound that came out of Jisung was not human. It was a howling, giggling, screeching mess of a noise, his whole body bowing upward off the mattress. His arms yanked at the ropes. His feet kicked uselessly at the sheets.
“I CAHAHAHAHAN’T!”
“Can’t what?” Minho was tickling him now, properly, his fingers skittering up and down Jisung’s sides, dancing over the sensitive curve of his back ribs. “Can’t handle a little massage?”
Jisung lets out a indignant, petulant whine at that. "THAHAHAHAT'S NOT FAHAHAHAIR!! Youhuhuhu're tiHIHIHICKLING MEHEHEHE!!"
Minho hums. "Actually, you might like this more than the massage, right Sungie? You love this massage the most~" Minho kneads mercilessly into Jisung's hips. "Answer me."
Jisung's fingers clawed uselessly at the air, his whole body arching and bucking in a desperate attempt to escape the ticklish torment. Minho didn’t stop. He simply changed his tactic, using his nails to rake over the strips of sensitive skin of Jisung's armpit.
Jisung just lets out a bunch of frustrated noises along with some more laughs. "WAIT!! WAHAHAAHAIT!!"
"Wait for what?" Minho's fingers never stopped. They danced over his ribs, dipped into the hollows, traced the spaces between each bone. "You haven't answered my question yet."
"I cahahan't think when you're tohOHOHOUCHING ME THEHEHERE!!" Jisung screams. His brain was going into full panic mode, trying to do anything to get Minho's torturing fingers off of his side and armpit.
"You're so red." Minho's fingers danced down his sides, featherlight, and Jisung wailed. "You're thinking about it, aren't you? About how much you love this. About how you'd rather be tickled than massaged any day."
"I—I WOHOHOULDNT!!"
"Liar." Minho's voice was fond, almost affectionate. "You're such a liar, Jisung. You love this. You love when I tie you up and tickle you until you can't breathe."
Jisung's face was on fire. Minho was surprised steam wasn't coming out of his ears yet.
Minho leaned down, his lips brushing Jisung's ear. "Say it."
"NOHOHO!!"
"Say it, and I'll stop."
Jisung shook his head frantically, so embarrassed he could die.
"Tell me, Jisung."
And Jisung gave in.
"YEHEHEHES!" He screeched. "I LIHIKE THE TIHICKLING MORE THAHAN THE MASSAHAHAGE!!"
Minho's hands stilled.
The room was silent for a long moment.
Then Minho leaned down, his lips brushing Jisung's ear, and his voice was warm and soft and absolutely smug.
"I knew it."
Jisung groaned. "I hate you." He waited for Minho to commit the grave mistake of untying him.
"You were good," Minho said, his voice soft and teasing, as the ropes fell away from Jisung's wrists. "You earned your freedom."
Jisung's arms dropped to the mattress. He was still panting, still trembling, still flushed from head to toe. His wrists were pink from the rope. His bare back was slick with massage oil and sweat. He looked utterly wrecked, completely defeated.
Minho smiled down at him, fond and proud.
And then Jisung moved.
One second he was a boneless puddle on the mattress. The next, he was a blur of motion—faster than Minho could track, faster than he could react. There was a soft thwip sound, and suddenly Minho's left wrsit was pinned to the headboard, webbed in place by two thick strands of white silk.
Minho blinked. "Wait—"
Another thwip, and his right hand were webbed too.
"Jisung," Minho said carefully, testing the webbing. It held firm. "Babe. Love of my life. What are you doing?"
Jisung's smile was sharp and bright and full of mischief. His eyes were still red-rimmed from crying with laughter, his cheeks still flushed, his hair a complete disaster. He looked like chaos incarnate.
"Revenge," he said simply.
Minho's stomach dropped. "Now, wait—"
But Jisung was already climbing onto the bed, crawling up Minho's body with the kind of focused determination that usually preceded something catastrophic. His hands landed on Minho's hips, and Minho's shirt rode up just slightly, exposing a sliver of skin.
"Jisung," Minho tried again, his voice pitching higher. "Jisung, we can talk about this—"
"We talked enough." Jisung's fingers found the hem of Minho's shirt and pushed it up, baring his stomach. "You talked. I laughed. Now it's my turn."
"Jisung, don't you dare—"
But Jisung was already leaning down, his lips brushing the skin just above Minho's belly button.
And then he blew.
The raspberry was loud and wet and absolutely devastating. Minho's whole body jerked, his back arching off the mattress, a strangled sound ripping out of his throat. The webbing held, but the bedframe groaned in protest.
"JIHIHIHISUNG—!"
"Oops," Jisung said, not sounding sorry at all. He pulled back, grinning, and Minho could see the laughter sparkling in his eyes. "Did that tickle? Cause I can do it again."
And he did.
The second raspberry was longer, more deliberate, Jisung shaking his head from side to side as he blew into Minho's stomach. Minho shrieked—his hips bucking, his heels drumming against the mattress.
"WAHAHAIT WAIT NOHOHOHOHHO!!"
"You thought you could get away that easily?" Jisung cooed.
He used his hands—his free, unbound hands—to crawl up Minho's flanks, his fingers skittering over the sensitive skin of his sides. Minho screamed with laughter, his head thrashing on the pillow. "NOT THEHERE!!"
Minho's flanks were devastatingly ticklish—Jisung knew this, had catalogued every weak point on his boyfriend's body over three years of loving, teasing warfare.
And right now, with Minho's arms pinned above his head and his shirt bunched under his armpits, his bare stomach and sides completely exposed, he was helpless.
"Oh, here?" Jisung's fingers wiggled into Minho's underarms, and Minho's laughter went silent, breathless, his whole body convulsing. "You mean here? Right here, where you tickled me?"
Minho was dying. His face was red, tears streaming down his temples, his laughter broken and desperate. He was so much more sensitive than Jisung had ever realized—every touch made him jump, every wiggling finger made him scream.
And Jisung was loving it.
"You were having so much fun, weren't you? Being a menace?" Jisung hums.
"I TAHAHAKE IT BACK!! I tahahahake ihihit ALL BAHAHACK!!"
"Fine, fine. As you're begging for mercy and all." Jisung yanks the webs off.
Minho groans. "You're too mehean..." As Jisung helps him sit up.
"All's fair in love and tickle wars~" Jisung teases back.
Minho kissed his forehead, still catching his breath. "Idiot."
Jisung melts, smiling. "Your idiot."
can you guys genuinely let me know if my writing's getting too repetitive?? i worried about this one a lot cause for some reason all my fics kinda read the same these days.
Director’s note: for my WONDERFUL AMAZING FRIEND @kokoluvskya!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY IDIOT <33 I LOVE YOU SM I HOPE YOU HAVE THE MOST AMAZING-EST DAY HEHEHE
It was a nice day (as per-usual…) in Shibuya on the rooftop of Miyamasuzaka girls’ academy, the leftover scent of the rain lingering in the air.. two girls had been practicing since school had finished.
Haruka and Minori.
They were practicing the new dance for their new song, just preparing to perform it on stage later that evening.
For now, they had been practicing alone, as Shizuku and Airi had been absent, well, somewhere…
Minori had been a stubborn little shit.
Haruka had been persistent with telling her to take breaks every few minutes. And guess what Minori did? SHE KEPT PRACTICING.
Haruka was watching her practice from the bench, a bottle of cold water in her hand, and her eyebrows furrowed waiting for Minori to TAKE A GODDAMN BREAK—
But no, she kept practicing.
Step back, spin, move to the side, bounce, jump, jump again, pose, jump, and do it all over again.
Sigh…
“Minori-Chan, you’ve been going at this for quite a while.. I have an extra water bottle for you.”
Minori slipped and stopped for a moment, and turned to look at her idol… holy barnacles, she’s always so pretty even when she’s sweaty from all that dancing… she could feel herself blushing—and not from the practicing.
“I’ll drink it later, I promise! I just need to get this move right!”
“You can get it right after you take at least a five minute break..”
Minori looked away, cheeks flushing even redder at the concern. Her idol was so sweet and kind, oh my god—
“I’ll take a break right after I perfect this move!”
…
“Sigh.”
Uhhhhh.. let’s just say what happened next was.. uhm.. very professional. Very idolsy.. yea.
Because she was sort of now just stuck pinned on the rooftop tiles.. on her back, like an upside-down bug.
And Haruka was sat on her hips, a smug but concerned look on her face.
“Eep! Haruka-Chan, what are y—“
That was the last coherent sentence that came out of Minori’s mouth before it was a mess of squeals and giggles as Haruka’s EVIL WIGGLING FINGERS descended on her AWFULLY TICKLISH EXPOSED SIDES.
she was a goner… to say the least.
“So, are you gonna take a break?” She persists once again, fingers moving up to tease and wiggle at her ribs.. oh shit.
“Eep! Nohoho! EHEHE— hic AFTER I FIHINISH THE MOHOHOVE—" The sounds coming out of Minori’s mouth were.. totally not adorably high pitched giggles.. and squeaks… trust.
That response only followed in more relentless squeezing and oh god—
She snorted.
And Haruka grinned from above her.. oh my god.
“HEHEHEHAHAHA— I’LL TAKE A BREAK— I PROHOHOMISE!!” she finally squeaked out, gasping for air greedily when Haruka stopped and stood off her.
Minori sat up, feeling giddy but breathless after that.. and a bottle of cold water was shoved into her hands.
“15 minutes. I swear if I see you getting up to practice again, you’re getting tickled again.”
They both looked over at the sound of giggling to find Shizuku and Airi standing by the doorway of the rooftop with two bags of popcorn..
𝙖/𝙣: been FOREVER since a longing part :3 celebrating with a new ler in the series hehehe
warnings: pinning, teasing, minho calls jisung "tickle bug", use of recording and live stream, jisung is catastrophically embarrassed, a little disclaimer that jisung asked them
this fic contains tickling!! if not your thing, keep scrolling darling <3
Jisung is a mess. His face is the color of a ripe tomato, flushed all the way down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his oversized shirt. His hair is a mess, sticking up in every direction from thrashing.
Chan is still straddling Jisung's hips, solid and immovable, his weight pinning Jisung's wrists to the mattress on either side of his head. Chan's not even breathing hard, the bastard.
He's just sitting there with that fond, wolfish grin, watching Jisung try to remember how lungs work. Every few seconds, Jisung's body gives an involuntary twitch, a leftover spasm from the assault, and Chan's grin only widens.
Minho is happily sitting on his arms, completely unbothered, entirely content with having watched Jisung kick and buck and scream with laughter.
"Hello, everyone," He says, and Jisung nearly dies on the spot. Is he really live right now? He can almost hear the explosion of comments that must be flooding the screen. "Sorry for the sudden live. Chan-ah and I wanted to show you something."
Chan snorts above him, his grip tightening just a fraction. He shifts his weight, leaning down to get a better look at the phone screen. "Oh, this is going to be good," He murmurs, his breath warm against Jisung's ear, which is now burning a furious crimson.
A quiet, breathless sort of whine escaped Jisung’s throat. His chest was still heaving, the remnants of hysterical laughter bubbling up and dying in his ribs.
He was pinned, utterly defeated.
And the fans could see every single second of it.
Chan finally speaks up after about a moment. "So, who wants to see us tickle Hannie?"
Jisung's entire soul briefly left his body. His eyes went impossibly wide, and a strangled, disbelieving noise clawed its way out of his throat. The chat exploded. Hearts. Emojis. Screaming in all caps. A flood of YES and PLEASE and WE DO and I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING.
The pressure kept Jisung flat, but his knees. Oh, his traitorous knees, were already creeping up toward his chest, his body instinctively trying to curl into the smallest possible shape. His arms were still pinned by Minho, but his legs were free, and they were trying.
Chan laughed, bright and delighted, and it was the most beautiful and terrifying sound Jisung had ever heard. "Awwww," Chan cooed, tilting his head like he was observing a particularly fascinating creature. "Look at the little pill bug here. He's curling up. So cute~"
Jisung's face burned so hot he was sure he was going to combust. "I'm not a pill bug!" he whined, his voice cracking embarrassingly high. He tried to pull his knees up higher, tried to tuck his chin down, tried to disappear into himself.
Minho just laughed again, utterly unbothered. "He says this," Minho announced to the phone, which he'd propped up against a pillow so the camera had a perfect view, "but watch Chan-hyung get the tummy."
"No," Jisung gasped, his eyes darting to the phone screen where hundreds of comments were flying by. "No. Not in front of the fans. Chan hyung. Chan. CHAN.—"
Chan's fingers found his stomach.
"CHAHAHAHAHAHAN!!"
The giggle that exploded out of Jisung was helpless and immediate, his whole body jerking as Chan's long fingers spidered across his sensitive belly. His knees tried to slam shut, tried to protect him, but Minho was already there, already holding him, and there was no escape.
"NAHAHAHAH!! YOU CAHAHAHAHAN'T!!"
Both Chan and Minho ignored his protests.
And Minho was already narrating, his voice smooth and clinical like a nature documentary. "Here we observe the pill bug in its natural habitat," Minho said, completely deadpan, watching Chan as his fingers wiggled mercilessly against Jisung's quivering tummy. "Its favorite habitat, as we can see."
Jisung wailed, a sound caught between laughter and despair and utter embarrassment.
"Being tickled half to death," Minho continued, nodding sagely. "Notice the defensive curling response. Classic pill bug behavior. He's trying to protect his vulnerable underbelly. But alas..."
Chan casually dips a finger into Jisung's belly button.
Jisung lets out a howl of laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks, his body writhing between them. His knees were still trying to curl, but Minho's weight kept him flat, kept him exposed, and there was nothing he could do but laugh and laugh and laugh.
"The pill bug is experiencing peak distress," Minho narrated, his voice warm with barely concealed affection. "He's very red. Very loud. Very cute. The predators are fascinated."
Chan snorted, his own laughter shaking his shoulders. "Fascinated," He echoed, grinning down at Jisung's wrecked, tear-streaked face.
Jisung could barely form words anymore. His laughter had gone breathless. "I HAHAHAHTE YOU BOHOHOTH!!"
The chat was exploding with heart emojis and the excited suggestions of the fans.
"Get the hips?" Minho read out loud. "Why, what a good idea!"
But Chan didn't wait. Of course he didn't wait. His thumbs dug into the sensitive hollows of Jisung's hip bones, pressing and vibrating in quick, merciless circles, and Jisung lost it. His whole body arched off the bed, a fresh shriek tearing out of his throat.
Minho's hand joins in at the ribs, vibrating thumb buried deep in the space between his bottom two ribs.
His legs kicked wildly, heels drumming against the mattress, but he couldn't escape. He couldn't move. Chan's weight was solid on his thighs, pinning him down, and Minho's hand was still at his ribs, vibrating into the spaces between each bone like they were playing some sort of cruel instrument.
Jisung swears he is not going to live another day. But he loves it anyway.
Jisung's head thrashed from side to side, his grin stretching so wide it hurt. Tears were absolutely streaming down his temples now, disappearing into his sweaty hairline. His laughter had gone completely silent between the shrieks.
Minho cooed, and his voice was dripping with mock sympathy. "Awww. Look at him." He tilted his head, watching Jisung squirm like a fish on a line. "The pill bug is absolutely thrashing. Look at those little legs go."
Jisung's legs were going. Kicking, scrabbling, trying to find purchase on anything that would give him leverage. But Chan's weight was on his waist, and Minho's weight was on his arms, and there was nowhere to go.
"I CAHAHAHAHN'T!! STOHOHOP TEHEHEASING MEHEHE!!"
"The pill bug," Minho continued, his voice sliding into that smooth nature-documentary cadence again, "stands no chance against the predators' strategies. The predators have identified the most vulnerable spots. The hip area. The rib cage. Very sensitive. Very ticklish."
"SHUHUHUHUT UP YOU MEHEHEHEANIE!!" Jisung screams. "I'hihim nohot even ticklihihish!"
That seemed to do it for a second. Both Chan and Minho paused.
"You're not ticklish?" Minho asked again, grin widening in amusement. "Should I test that out?"
Jisung whined. "No, please don't."
"Please don't what?"
"...Please don't tickle me."
Minho reached up to squeeze his hand, giving him a knowing look. At Jisung's nod, he was back.
Minho grinned, and took Chan's place. Chan clambered to tackle Jisung's arms down again. Minho made an amused expression. "Reallyyy?" He drew the word out, and his free hand came up, fingers crawling up Jisung's side like little spiders. "The pill bug isn't ticklish?"
Jisung clamped his lips together so hard his jaw ached. His whole body tensed, and the giggles started bubbling up in his chest, trapped behind his sealed lips. "N-Noho."
His shoulders hunched, his hips twitched, his legs kicked weakly against the bed. But he was determined. He would not break. He would not—
Minho's fingers wiggled against his ribs, light and teasing. "Is the little pill bug holding in his giggles~?" He cooed, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Is the pill bug feeling all the tickles?"
Jisung shook his head frantically, his breath coming out in sharp, strained little exhales through his nose. His face was so red. His whole body was trembling with the effort of keeping quiet.
Minho tilted his head, pretending to study him. "Who's the most ticklish pill bug, hm?" He mused, his fingers still dancing lazily across Jisung's ribs. "Is it you?"
Jisung shook his head again, a desperate, jerky motion. His lips were twitching, fighting so hard to stay together. A tiny, helpless giggle slipped out, and he slammed his lips shut again immediately.
Minho's eyes sparkled. "Really?" He frowned, pretending to be confused. "But I could've sworn you were..."
And his hands dove into Jisung's armpits.
"GAHAHAHAHAH!! MINHOOOO!!"
"What? Don't act like you didn't ask for this~"
"WHA—?! PFF—SHUHUHUHUT UP!! NO I DIHIHIDN'T!!"
"Mhm~" Both Chan and Minho chorused.
After another ten minutes of tickling a poor Jisung stupid, he finally started to wear out, going limp and giggly.
"Awww," Minho cooed, finally letting up a but, tilting his head as he observed Jisung's squirming form. "Look at the little pill bug. He's so sensitive today. Did the predators wear him out?"
"WEAR ME OUT??! YOU FUHUHUCKING TORTURED ME!!"
Minho shrugged. "Potato, patahto."
And then, "Don't be mean to the species predator. Or next time I will blow raspberries into your tummy until you cry."
Chan lets Jisung go. "C'mon, bug. Don't be rude. Say hi to the fans."
Jisung's blush is nuclear. "Hi guys. Forget that ever happened."
"Oh come on. We all know you lik—"
And the live cuts out as Jisung frantically slams the end button.
happy 3 year anniversary to me!!
starting off the next three days full of fics hehehehe i hope you guys like this one and i hope you're excited for the next ones too!!
Jeongin flopped onto the couch, his body bouncing on the springs three more times. Finally, the TV area was all to himself—he could actually watch a movie.
He grabbed the remote, flipped through the channels, and landed on some anime whose title he didn't recognize.
Everything was peaceful until Jeongin felt cold fingers brush against his neck. He let out a startled squeak, arching his back.
—"Well, what are we watching here?" came a sweet voice from behind the back of the couch.
Hyunjin was standing there, leaning his elbows on the back of the couch, watching Jeongin rub his neck. He snatched the remote Jeongin had dropped and changed the channel.
Jeongin looked up indignantly.
—"Hey! I was watching that!" he protested, reaching for the remote.
Years of training paid off—Jeongin’s grip was ironclad. He yanked the remote toward himself, sending Hyunjin tumbling backward over the couch. They were playing tug-of-war with the remote. Suddenly, Hyunjin leaned in and pressed his lips toward Jeongin's fingers—and it took every ounce of Jeongin's willpower not to yank his hands away. Anything to avoid brushing against this prince's lips. Or maybe Jeongin was just pretending he was about to bite Hyunjin's fingers if he didn't give up. Jeongin was winning, by the way.
That was when Hyunjin narrowed his eyes, let go with one hand, and dug his fingers right into Jeongin's side. Jeongin squeaked and arched his back, hastily covering his attacked side while Hyunjin cheerfully vaulted back over the couch, remote in hand.
—"Problem solved," Hyunjin sang.
Jeongin shot him a reproachful look.
—"But that's not fair! I got here first"
—"And I was born first! You're supposed to yield to your elders," Hyunjin teased, waving the remote in the air. But a couple of seconds later, he was waving an empty hand—Jeongin had snatched his prize.
Hyunjin dropped his hands. Then raised them again. Curled into claws.
—"Not enough for you?" He wiggled his fingers closer to Jeongin.
Surprisingly, it worked.
—"Ah, no! Okay, okay, I'll give it to you, here! Just don't tickle me!" Jeongin said, shielding his torso with one arm and holding out the remote.
Hyunjin took it with a sly smile —"That's better..."
He started flipping through the channels. Jeongin watched the screen. A cooking show, a cartoon, a drama series...
Hyunjin lazily shifted his gaze to the top of his younger companion's head. Clicking the button one last time, he tossed the remote aside and dug his fingers right into Jeongin's armpits.
—"I was just thinking that... um, a documentary about snakes... isn't nearly as interesting as you are!"
Jeongin squirmed from side to side, giggling.
—"Hahahaha! Hyung, lehehave mehehe alone, just watch the TV!"
Hyunjin didn't reply, just moved his hands down to the younger's stomach, continuing to tickle him.
Jeongin jerked and sucked in his stomach, but it didn't help. He tried to lean forward, but Hyunjin, draped over his stomach on the back of the couch, just kept reaching for him.
—"HAHAHAH, STOP IT!"
Jeongin swayed from side to side, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
Hyunjin lost his balance and pitched forward—burying his nose right into Jeongin's neck. Jeongin let out a high-pitched squeak—"NAHAHAHAHA!!"
Hyunjin chuckled, pulled back, and dragged his nails lightly down Jeongin's back. Jeongin arched, laughing hysterically.
—"I really can't see the difference between how a snake slithers and how you're arching right now," Hyunjin remarked, looking at his younger companion with warm playfulness.
—"SHUT UP HAHAHAHAHA!" Jeongin shrieked, not knowing what to do with himself. He tried to roll off the couch, but Hyunjin caught him with one hand, effortlessly dragging him back into place.
—"Oh! How rude! Is that any way to talk to your elders, hm? Come on, you love your hyung, don't you? So let's cuddle!" —Hyunjin said dramatically, pulling Jeongin closer against the back of the couch and wrapping his arms around him, before burying his nose in Jeongin's neck and rubbing it there.
Jeongin threw his head back, his mouth falling open in silent laughter. He took a deep, ragged breath—and...
—"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! YOU'RE THE WORST!!"- Jeongin shook his head, trying to pull away, but Hyunjin just followed his movements.— "NOT THERE, NOT THERE!!"
Jeongin thrashed with all his might and broke free. He slid off the couch, but to his horror, Hyunjin scrambled after him.
—"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily!" Hyunjin declared like a battle cry, and looming over Jeongin, started poking at his ribs.
Jeongin burst into laughter, kicking and arching his back. He flailed his arms—and accidentally hit the remote, changing the channel.
The snake documentary switched to an interview with a famous actor. The man was talking about something, gesturing smoothly.
"I remember the sunset, it was just so beautiful..."
Jeongin froze. Hyunjin stopped tickling him, too.
On the screen, a very famous face smiled at the camera, and for some reason, that sentence just hung in the air..
Usually I check the text for mistakes after translating, but right now I'm so sleepy that I don't want to check anything at all... anyway, sorry if there are any mistak
Jeongin flopped onto the couch, his body bouncing on the springs three more times. Finally, the TV area was all to himself—he could actually watch a movie.
He grabbed the remote, flipped through the channels, and landed on some anime whose title he didn't recognize.
Everything was peaceful until Jeongin felt cold fingers brush against his neck. He let out a startled squeak, arching his back.
—"Well, what are we watching here?" came a sweet voice from behind the back of the couch.
Hyunjin was standing there, leaning his elbows on the back of the couch, watching Jeongin rub his neck. He snatched the remote Jeongin had dropped and changed the channel.
Jeongin looked up indignantly.
—"Hey! I was watching that!" he protested, reaching for the remote.
Years of training paid off—Jeongin’s grip was ironclad. He yanked the remote toward himself, sending Hyunjin tumbling backward over the couch. They were playing tug-of-war with the remote. Suddenly, Hyunjin leaned in and pressed his lips toward Jeongin's fingers—and it took every ounce of Jeongin's willpower not to yank his hands away. Anything to avoid brushing against this prince's lips. Or maybe Jeongin was just pretending he was about to bite Hyunjin's fingers if he didn't give up. Jeongin was winning, by the way.
That was when Hyunjin narrowed his eyes, let go with one hand, and dug his fingers right into Jeongin's side. Jeongin squeaked and arched his back, hastily covering his attacked side while Hyunjin cheerfully vaulted back over the couch, remote in hand.
—"Problem solved," Hyunjin sang.
Jeongin shot him a reproachful look.
—"But that's not fair! I got here first"
—"And I was born first! You're supposed to yield to your elders," Hyunjin teased, waving the remote in the air. But a couple of seconds later, he was waving an empty hand—Jeongin had snatched his prize.
Hyunjin dropped his hands. Then raised them again. Curled into claws.
—"Not enough for you?" He wiggled his fingers closer to Jeongin.
Surprisingly, it worked.
—"Ah, no! Okay, okay, I'll give it to you, here! Just don't tickle me!" Jeongin said, shielding his torso with one arm and holding out the remote.
Hyunjin took it with a sly smile —"That's better..."
He started flipping through the channels. Jeongin watched the screen. A cooking show, a cartoon, a drama series...
Hyunjin lazily shifted his gaze to the top of his younger companion's head. Clicking the button one last time, he tossed the remote aside and dug his fingers right into Jeongin's armpits.
—"I was just thinking that... um, a documentary about snakes... isn't nearly as interesting as you are!"
Jeongin squirmed from side to side, giggling.
—"Hahahaha! Hyung, lehehave mehehe alone, just watch the TV!"
Hyunjin didn't reply, just moved his hands down to the younger's stomach, continuing to tickle him.
Jeongin jerked and sucked in his stomach, but it didn't help. He tried to lean forward, but Hyunjin, draped over his stomach on the back of the couch, just kept reaching for him.
—"HAHAHAH, STOP IT!"
Jeongin swayed from side to side, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
Hyunjin lost his balance and pitched forward—burying his nose right into Jeongin's neck. Jeongin let out a high-pitched squeak—"NAHAHAHAHA!!"
Hyunjin chuckled, pulled back, and dragged his nails lightly down Jeongin's back. Jeongin arched, laughing hysterically.
—"I really can't see the difference between how a snake slithers and how you're arching right now," Hyunjin remarked, looking at his younger companion with warm playfulness.
—"SHUT UP HAHAHAHAHA!" Jeongin shrieked, not knowing what to do with himself. He tried to roll off the couch, but Hyunjin caught him with one hand, effortlessly dragging him back into place.
—"Oh! How rude! Is that any way to talk to your elders, hm? Come on, you love your hyung, don't you? So let's cuddle!" —Hyunjin said dramatically, pulling Jeongin closer against the back of the couch and wrapping his arms around him, before burying his nose in Jeongin's neck and rubbing it there.
Jeongin threw his head back, his mouth falling open in silent laughter. He took a deep, ragged breath—and...
—"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! YOU'RE THE WORST!!"- Jeongin shook his head, trying to pull away, but Hyunjin just followed his movements.— "NOT THERE, NOT THERE!!"
Jeongin thrashed with all his might and broke free. He slid off the couch, but to his horror, Hyunjin scrambled after him.
—"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily!" Hyunjin declared like a battle cry, and looming over Jeongin, started poking at his ribs.
Jeongin burst into laughter, kicking and arching his back. He flailed his arms—and accidentally hit the remote, changing the channel.
The snake documentary switched to an interview with a famous actor. The man was talking about something, gesturing smoothly.
"I remember the sunset, it was just so beautiful..."
Jeongin froze. Hyunjin stopped tickling him, too.
On the screen, a very famous face smiled at the camera, and for some reason, that sentence just hung in the air..
Usually I check the text for mistakes after translating, but right now I'm so sleepy that I don't want to check anything at all... anyway, sorry if there are any mistak
I'm part of a fandom that's very popular in my country but has only a small following elsewhere ,though that doesn't really matter. I've been in this fandom for over six years. And no matter how long I've been here, all the tickle content in this fandom amounts to four pieces of art, two fics, and one video. THAT'S IT
THE PROBLEM is that most of this fandom consists of people who have no idea about the tickle community, so if I request art from an artist, they'll think I'm weird.
My friend has a ton of good friends, she has a big group she hangs out with, and she's constantly meeting new people. I, on the other hand, only have two friends — her and one other girl from art school. and that's it. So my friend texts me that she's met yet another person. I write back, "How do you do it? Am I doing something wrong in life?" She replies, "You just need to get out of the house, go to some events, hang out — you're home 24/7.
All that advice is total nonsense. I'm not going to leave the house, and you can't make mе. My mom bribed you, didn't she? She wants me to go outside and not rot in my room all day. I've figured out your plan. Now spill the real secret — how do you have so many friends?
didn't know it was slay to call someone a p3do for being sweet to their friends now <3
....how interesting!!
this person, @/jazzyurfavchineseengene100975, has been vagueposting about me for a while!! and the time stamps add up scarily good, doesnt it?
even going as far as THREE WEEKS AGO
(censoring my name as if i did anything close to warranting you to call me a p3do) screenshots courtesy of my friend (not yunna before u ask)
by the way
fatshaming someone is a terrible thing to do. i don't care how much they "deserve it". first of all, do your fucking research. bang shi hyuk DOES NOT have the power to kick heeseung out, which is honestly where this all started. second of all, you are a horrible person for supporting fatshaming.
if you wanted to be so bold, then say to my fucking face instead of vagueposting like a coward.
and calling me a p3do for being sweet to my friends?? its clear that you don't have friends who are nice to you. i'm very sorry for that <3 oh wait, no wonder you don't. you're a horrible person.
and since it's obvious kay / jazzy / whoever is obsessed enough with me to keep posting about me, lemme tell u a little something, i don't fucking care, obsessed little children. immaturity goes crazyyy. censoring ppl's names for the fun of it is not cute nor tuff 🥀
also!! since i know kay is reading this on her alt, keep being obsessed girllll <333 it makes me feel really special :333
I can't go into the bathroom because there is a spider on the door.
It's 4am now, and I've been standing in front of the bathtub for twenty minutes waiting for the spider to go away
The spider has been sitting in one place for 10 minutes and does not want to move.
Just to understand the hopelessness of the situation, I am so afraid of spiders that it is difficult for me to look in their direction.When I pick up a book to kill them, my hand just hovers over them and I'm like hypnotized, just watching, because I'm afraid to get close to them.
I can't go into the bathroom because there is a spider on the door.
It's 4am now, and I've been standing in front of the bathtub for twenty minutes waiting for the spider to go away
The spider has been sitting in one place for 10 minutes and does not want to move.
Just to understand the hopelessness of the situation, I am so afraid of spiders that it is difficult for me to look in their direction.When I pick up a book to kill them, my hand just hovers over them and I'm like hypnotized, just watching, because I'm afraid to get close to them.
THE SPIDER MOVED. Maybe I can go to the bathroom tonight.
Do you want to see what a big and scary spider I'm afraid of, you'll be horrified at how scary it is, it probably also emits fire, in general, you'll be shocked, look
I KNOW THIS SPIDER IS SMALL. But I'm afraid of all spiders.
