#likeformore

I finished Attack on Titan weeks ago but got the manga recently so now I’m motivated to do this!!! I tried making it as canon as possible to give y’all a feel for how things would actually be with these precious characters in regards to tickling. And feel free to reblog this or give it a heart if you like it!

Also I’m only doing the most popular ones for now but if you want me to add a character then lmkkkk

Eren Yeager

- This guy lmao

- Ok I definitely think he is ticklish but like… average if you get what I mean

- Like he isn’t overly ticklish but he isn’t not ticklish either

- I think he was for sure badly ticklish as a kid but then either grew out of it or just stoped being as sensitive from getting into so many tickle fights with Mikasa

- Ok we’ve established his ticklishness but what about his most ticklish spot?

- He’d probably be most ticklish on his armpits like I could just see that being most canon

- Don’t mess with him though he’s actually a pretty fucking evil ler

Mikasa Ackerman

- Ahhh my best girl

- Is she ticklish?

- No

- No she isn’t

- Shes almost immune to tickling

- This always annoyed Eren because it meant she’d always win the tickle fights

- But one trick he found helps is getting her by surprise

- A quick out-of-nowhere jab to the ribs will make her giggle which Eren finds pretty fucking adorable

- But enough about that because she is an absolute LEGENDARY ler

- She will have her victims on the floor before she could even touch them (Armin could say first hand that this is true)

Armin Arlert

- NO BC THIS PRECIOUS BOI 🥺🥺🥺

- Y’all he’s too cute for words 😭

- And when someone’s cute… it’s likely that they’re ticklish

- Saying Armin is ticklish is an understatement…

- He can’t even handle a poke in the side without freaking out

- When he was younger he was just a walking tickle spot and because of that Eren and Mikasa always targeted him (ahhh poor him lmfao)

- Be he got better about his sensitivity as he grew up

- His most ticklish spot technically would be everywhere but if not everywhere then definitely his stomach

- Holy shit is his stomach just the most sensitive thing in the history

- Eren and Mikasa unfortunately know this…

- He isn’t much of a ler but he’ll lightly tickle someone he trusts (like Eren or Mikasa) if he sees any of them down

Levi Ackerman

- This absolute badass

- He never experienced tickling as a kid

- Heck the guy doesn’t even know what the fuck it is

- I’d image that he’d be walking around or whatever and see two kids tickling each other and he’d get worried and not knowing what it is, he’d think they’re trying to kill each other lmfao

- But Erwin probably explained it to him so now he has a general idea of it

- I genuinely don’t think he’s ticklish at all

- Kinda like Mikasa, if you were to get him by surprise maybe he’d flinch or something

- But for the most part he is able to block out any ticklish sensations (any at all!)

“Your OC Gets at Midnight Call”: Abilene and Arlo

A/N: If I have any grammar errors just let me know. But I hope you enjoy!

I always had a love for antique items, a love that started when I was a little girl, after one visit to my grandmother’s house. She was watching me while my parents were at work. She needed my help sorting through some boxes in her attic.

We went through half the boxes when she came to a sudden stop with her back facing me. I peaked around her, eyes falling on the box in front of her full of black and white pictures and old items I’ve never seen before. She held a small doll in her hand, gazing at it with soft eyes.

The doll was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen with a smooth cream colored face. Her eyes were like shiny green orbs staring into my soul. Each strand of her ginger hair was in ringlets almost hugging the frame of her round face perfectly. She was dressed in a periwinkle winter coat with matching hat and gloves. She reminded me of those cherubs Nana kept in her garden.

“Nana?”

She finally looked at me, eyes wide, remembering I was there. “Oh,” she gawked. “This used to be mine when I was your age. I used to take it everywhere.” She paused for a moment. “I want you to have it, Abilene.”

Whether she realized it or not, she secretly planted the seed in me that later grew into a love of mine. That doll never left my side, no matter how much my parents thought of it as an annoyance. If it were possible, I would’ve taken it to school with me too.

Seeing how much I loved it, my parents made a deal with me to do my chores in exchange for money for another doll. I saved every last penny they gave me and begged them to take me to antique stores to buy another one. As I got older, I ventured out from dolls to record players, clocks, vases. Anything I could get my hands on was mine.

After college, I collected so much stuff to open up my own small antique shop and business has been a success. Every other week I go out to auctions, flea markets, and garage sales to find something new to add to my store. That was how I came across the newest addition to my own personal collection. A 1928 rotary phone, one the first of its kind just sitting in the middle of a man’s yard for a cheaper price than it was worth.

I wasn’t sure if it was the blazing heat outside or just my imagination when the seller came off as nervous and almost relieved to see I took interest in the phone. He told me how he had been trying to get rid of it for a while.

He never explained why he wanted to sell it so badly, but it didn’t really matter to me regardless.

The rest of the day was spent with me going to more yard sales and purchasing more stuff until it was almost completely dark by the time I got back to my shop. I place it in the display case alongside other pieces I’ve collected overtime. It’s black metal was cool to the touch and smooth all around. I quickly put away the other items I’ve purchased before heading to my apartment upstairs.

Sometime in the night, I woke up on my couch covered in cold sweat, the TV playing in the background. I turned off the TV and sat for a moment of silence as a wave of anxiety washed over me. An unexplainable knot sat at the pit of my stomach and my pulse sounded in my ear.

“Hello?” I called. Suddenly, a muffled creak came from below the floorboards. Could someone still be in the shop at this time of the night? I know my assistant went home long after we left the last garage sale of the day. Unless there’s someone trying to break in.

I grabbed the bat by the door to the shop when I made my way down. Every strand of hair on my body stood up at the agonizing silence and the occasional sound of my steps. My heart pounds against my rib cage, begging to be let out.

Ring!

I jumped at the noise, hands gripping the bat harder than before.

Ring!

Following the direction it came from, I stood face to face with the glass display case.

Ring!

That’s impossible. There was no possible way this vintage rotary phone was ringing. It wasn’t even wired up.

Ring!

My shaky hands opened the case and took hold of the handle to feel the vibration of the last ring before picking it up. I pressed the cold metal to my ear.

“Hello?” I said, holding back sobs.

“It’s been some time since somebody finally answered my calls.”

A terrifying shriek left my throat and I slammed the handle back down. I bolted for my apartment and called the police the moment I got inside. The police came within a nick of time. They searched high and low through my whole shop, even inside the display case to see if there were any hidden wires behind the phone. But there was no sign of anyone to be found.

“It was probably a stupid prank by some moron,” one of the officers told me. “There’s been some lousy teenagers in the neighborhood causing trouble. If anything else happens don’t hesitate to give us another call.”

The rest of the night I kept falling in and out of sleep. By the time I officially had to be up, I could barely keep my eyes open. I decided to keep the shop closed for the day and sent a text to my assistant to explain what happened last night. I stayed in my apartment all day, scrolling through emails and scanning the internet for more antique items.

Even with me trying to keep myself occupied, curiosity struck me and I felt an odd pull from downstairs. I go downstairs to grab the phone and race to put it on my coffee table.

There had to be a reasonable explanation for last night. I knew I wasn’t crazy. This phone rang last night. What if there was something wrong with the phone? What if I broke when I tried putting in the display case yesterday.

But it doesn't explain the voice. Someone was on the other line. Wasn’t there? I turned it upside down, searching for hidden buttons.

I took the receiver and put it to my face. “Hello?” I said, not really expecting to get a response.

“Back again, I see,” a familiar male voice said.

“You’re the creep from last night that broke into my shop,” I gasped. I was sure my knuckles turned white from me gripping the handle so hard. “I’m calling the cops again!”

“I can assure you that I didn’t break into your shop. You brought me here yourself,” he laughed, his voice hoarse. “And you would tell the police what? A man broke into your shop and mysteriously called you from a phone that isn’t even wired up? I think you’re smarter than that.”

My brows furrowed thinking about it. “If the phone doesn’t work then how am I talking to you now?”

“It’s quite simple. I’m stuck inside the phone.”

I laugh not because it was funny, but because he sounded ridiculous. “You’re joking right?”

“I only wish I was. I have been trapped in this phone for years with no way of freeing myself.”

“Oh…I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “May I ask you how you managed to get stuck in the phone?”

“I was cursed.” He sighed. “I was an apprentice to a wizard long ago. He took a great liking to me until he found out I was sleeping with his wife. As a reward for my transgression, he trapped me in this phone to suffer for my sins.”

“How unfortunate you are,” I noted. “I’m sorry. I wish there was a way for me to help you out.”

“No need to feel bad for me. I did get myself in this predicament in the first place. Though, knowing I’ve ended up in your care has made this less of an inconvenience to me.”

“Oh, how is that?”

“Well, you do have a lovely voice,” he said. “And it’s been forever since I’ve last encountered a woman, let alone one that has stayed to actually speak to me through this contraption.”

Heat rises to my cheeks and a childish giggle leaves my mouth. “Oh my, thank you.”

“Where are my manners? I haven’t properly introduced myself.” He chuckles. “My name is Arlo.”

“I’m Abilene.”

“Abilene? That’s a beautiful name. How did you get that?” Something about the sound of his voice urged me to want to keep talking to him. Work has held my attention for so long, I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a date. Maybe entertaining Arlo would make things interesting for me.

“It was my Nana’s middle name.”

“Your Nana must be special.”

“She was,” I corrected. “She inspired my love for collecting antiques and opening the shop.”

A few weeks had gone by and conversations between Arlo and I became the highlight of my life. Every day after work, we talked to each other for hours upon hours about whatever came to mind, mainly me rambling about my day at the antique shop. My hands were basically glued to the phone.

“Arlo?” I asked one day in the middle of me reading aloud a book to him. I was laying on the couch in my living room with a book in one hand and the receiver in the other. Reading has become one of Arlo and I’s favorite things to do to pass time.

“Yes, my Abilene.” My face flushed at the sound of affection in his voice. Thankfully he couldn’t see me.

“What was your life like before the wizard put the spell on you?”

He sighed. “My life was simple yet sweet. My powers as a wizard were nowhere near expert level, but I would dedicate my time to learn gimmicky tricks to impress women.”

I ignored the pinching envy as I listened to Arlo mention other women. I tried to play it off. “Quite the charmer, huh?”

“You couldn’t imagine it, Abilene. At that time, my love for women was almost like your love for antiques. I was always looking for another to add to my collection.”

I hummed. “How interesting.” I wrapped my fingers with the cord.

“What seems to be the matter, my sweet?” The pitch in his voice changed ever so slightly.

“Nothing,” I lied. “Do you miss those women?”

“Abilene.” He said my name like he’d caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. “Are you jealous?”

“Of course, not.” I knew he could tell I was lying.

“There’s no need to be jealous, my love. Those women are a part of my past now and can never get in the way of what I feel for you. As you can see, it was my foolish obsession that got me here.” I was hot all over from his confession. My god, how could this one voice hold so much power over me?

I cleared my throat. “Arlo?” I struggled to change the subject.

“The wizard that trapped you in the phone never said anything to give you an idea on how to get out.” I had been trying to figure out how to help Arlo, but no matter how much I looked nothing came up.

“Not from what I recall,” his voice is lower than usual, like he’s thinking really hard about it. My fingers play with the base of the phone, picking at some sort of paint.

“What about the spell he put on you? Maybe if we know what he did, we can reverse it.”

I continued to pick at the paint, humming to make up for my lack of words. My finger came across something unfamiliar. What could this be? I flipped the phone over to see my picking has revealed a compartment underneath. “How odd,” I thought.

“What is it, my sweet?”

“I think I found something.” With the receiver held in between my shoulder and my chin, I pry open the compartment. Inside is a flimsy piece of paper rolled and tied with a red ribbon.

Pulling off the ribbon, there was a sequence of numbers written down. “I wonder,” I said. I flipped the phone back over and turned the dial, my heart picking up speed from waiting in between each number.

“What are you?” Arlo asked.

“Trying something out,” I finished putting the numbers in and waited for something outrageous to happen. “I guess it didn’t work.”

“Abilene?” It took a second for my mind to register that the voice isn’t coming from the phone anymore.