KATE

resident idiot i draw, write, and shitpost :P i make sfw tickle-related posts - i am a lee i am a minor (17) - NSFW DNI DNI if under 13 or over 30 please say hi! i would love to make friends

[greatleekate]

INTRO POST

hi, i’m kate. i’m a member of the tumblr sfw tickle community! i’m not super active but i have a few mutuals on here.

i’m a minor (17) and i will ONLY interact with blogs that are sfw and okay with minors interacting. no sexual asks or DMs. thank you!

the chart has most of the info!! but on here i like to post and reblog about sfw tickling, and also write/interact with fandom content. i post my fics and art here too sometimes.

MASTER FIC LIST

Project Hail Mary 

Pilot Detected (3) - Kid!Reader; Ler!Grace, Ler!Rocky, and Lee!Reader

Pilot Detected (2) - Kid!Reader

Pilot Detected  - Kid!Reader, Ler!Grace and Lee!Reader

For Health - Ler!Rocky and Lee!Grace

Two Idiots - Lee!Grace and Ler!Reader

Be Gentle  - Ler!Stratt and Lee!Reader

Asking For It - Ler!Grace and Lee!Reader

Oral Fixation - Ler!Grace and Lee!Reader

Stop Stressing - Ler!Carl, Ler!Grace, and Lee!Reader

Dirty Dancing - Ler!Rocky, Lee!Grace, and Lee!Reader

Too Much - Ler!Grace and Lee!Reader

Doing Nothing - Ler!Stratt, Ler!Carl, and Lee!Grace

Nightcap - Ler!Grace, Ler!Stratt, and Lee!Reader

Well, Fudge (2) - Lee!Grace and Ler!Reader

Well, Fudge (1) - Ler!Grace and Lee!Reader

FANDOM LIST

Project Hail Mary

The Martian

Andor & Rogue One

Star Wars

BBC Sherlock

Bridgerton

Heartstopper

The fandom list is ever-evolving and may get updated. :)

please please do reach out! i really want to make friends and chat with yall. you can send asks or just message me directly. i’m happy to RP with friends, send teases whenever, receive teases, etc. i promise i don’t bite!

[greatleekate]

too ticklish

Shitty sketch featuring grace and his grippy socks (+ muscle tee because i had to)

Bonus drawing under the cut

[greatleekate]

Sneak peek of a ler!grace fic I’m working on (unrelated to the pilot detected series)

i’m stuck on writing the ending so you might see lee!grace drawings before i actually post it :P

[cacoonedmoonworm]

Burden

𖥔 Hey soooo I've been sitting on this one for a little bit now. It turned out a lot longer than my usual fics (1k-2k words) and i wanted to try my hand at writing something a little sad! I've written nothing but fluff up until this point so idk how i did with the sadder stuff (its genuinely not even that sad) I hope you all still enjoy anyway! 𖥔

𖥔 Slight spoilers for movie and book! 𖥔

Summary: This is set a little bit after Grace and Rocky get to Erid. In this one, Adrian is less then happy about the current situation pertaining to Grace, and its effects on there relationship with Rocky.

Lee!Grace / Ler!Adrian

Word count: 4,435

“I wish you would see Grace." Its tone is low and sounds exhausted. Rocky has gotten home finally. I haven't seen it in a few days. It's not like I see it much when it does finally come home anyway. Disappearing to Grace has become its new normal, even if I thought I finally got my mate back. Grace takes priority.

This isn't the first time it has suggested this. I think it asks at least once every time they see me, and my answer stays the same every time. “No.” It comes out harsher than I intend.

“He means a lot to me and so do you. I want you to get along.” I will say, it doesn't usually push after the first no; I'm a little surprised. It shifts closer to me while I'm working at my desk. “You work on the biodome team. You are in charge of so much of his life. This includes everything from what he eats to the conditions of the ocean in his home. You should be more involved physically..." I huff. Sure, maybe it would make my life easier to see the human in person, but my feelings towards the creature keep me away, and I think that's for the best for everyone involved.

“I work on the human because you don't trust anyone to care for it other than yourself and me.” We have a team, of course, but when it comes to Grace’s immediate health and comfort, I am the primary Eridian involved. Rocky shifts even closer to me; he's wobbling a bit. He's ready for sleep. 

“I-I don't want you to just do it for me. Do you enjoy it a little at least?” I move away slightly as it reaches a claw out for me. “You were excited when we first arrived…not just for me, for Grace too.” Grace was exciting when he first arrived. An alien who saved not one but two planets and saved my mate personally. Of course I would find that exciting. And to have the opportunity to help lead in the invention of its enclosure was amazing. But not so much anymore since I learned what the consequences of its existence on my life would be.

“It keeps me busy" is all I give to it. “Why are you being more pushy than normal?” I sense something's up. The unaccepted claw retracts, and Rocky pushes it together with another, fidgeting. I knew it.

“I must attend a meeting pertaining to Grace. I won't be there with him… I want you there to watch him instead," it trills out sheepishly. “I don't know how long I will be gone for. I…do not want him to be alone.”

“It is alone right now, is it not? It can function and take care of itself just fine.” Annoyance and anger lace my voice a bit. Rocky scitters back a bit but tries to touch me again. Its words are starting to slur as exhaustion takes over his body.

“You know what I mean. Grace is…sensitive. I don't want him to be alone ever again.” I feel anger rise within me. What about me being alone? For decades I waited to not be alone again, and now, even with my mate back, I am alone. I feel the mercury boil under my carapace as I try and be understanding.

“I know you do not like him.” It's not that I hate Grace personally. I can't really. I've only ever interacted with him while he was unconscious the first few weeks of being on Erid. I have complicated feelings toward the human and the situation that has come with it. 

“Please do it for me.” I move away from them again while trying to continue working.

"It's always for you, isn't it?"

"I-I…I'm sorr—"

"I'll do it. It's fine," I grumble at its despondent tone and move away from my desk.

Rocky comes over to me again. This time I know it isn't trying to convince me of anything; it just wants to sleep. The sight of it tugging at me hurts more than the argument did. Rocky is exhausted. Its movements are sluggish; it reaches a claw towards me. I flinch away before I can stop myself.

Rocky goes rigid and sits for a moment. “Y-you won't even hold me? You won't let me close to sleep?" It sounds broken, close to a cry but not quite. The sight makes me go rigid in return.

I let out a low hum. “...I need some space right now. I will still watch.” Rocky lets out a strangled whine, close to a sob, but settles on the bed close by anyway. I can tell it's too exhausted to really do anything about it; it's actively fighting off sleep that should have taken it days ago.

“Thank you, Adrian." the words come out slurred. I shift towards it to answer but Rocky is already asleep. Its claws are still loosely curled together where it has been fidgeting moments earlier. 

Something inside me aches.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

I arrive at the dome's airlock, wearing a thin Xenonite suit I've never had to put on before. Rocky stated that Grace knew I was coming to see him today instead of itself and that the human was nervous. To play nice, for Grace’s sake. I've taken the human's chart with me. While I'm here, I might as well take notes while I can and see what I can improve for him.

I step in and wait for it to pressurize, and then I'm on my way. I head out to the beach and start towards the humans' house. The sand shifts below my feet, and I hear the constant crashing of waves next to me. I move my attention to the “classroom” on the other side of the dome. I think making it a bit bigger would be helpful. More students to teach at a time, but to give the human more space to work with for demonstrations and such. Maybe add storage for materials so it's easier on the human.

By the time I come back to reality, I've approached the house. I realize we haven't exactly built the house for an Eridian of my size. I could probably get in, but I'm not sure how cramped the inside would be.

I knock lightly and wait a moment. I hear its footsteps frantically heading towards the door. It finally opens, and the little human looks up at me in awe. 

“Hello Grace.” It's still silent, just staring. I shift uncomfortably at the tiny alien.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I didn't know Eridians could get so…tall." It chuckles a little, but I feel its heart skyrocket. It's for sure nervous. “Rocky told me you were bigger but didn't really specify how much bigger."

“Yes.” It fidgets as I speak. “Adrian does not think it is good idea to try and go in Grace house.”

It looks back at the structure and rubs the back of its neck. “Uh–yeah. It's probably better if we hang out outside instead. Um, let me grab my shoes.” It turns back inside and grabs what it's looking for. 

I let out a small annoyed hum. The human is so loud. It is much louder now than when it was unconscious. I can hear its heart, its blood, and its breath. I can hear the crackles and pops of its joints, the way its tongue moves as it talks. So loud. How did Rocky get used to this noise? I would have gone crazy on that ship. 

The tiny human comes fumbling through the door and walks ahead of me. I noticed the door that it left open and pulled it shut. And so forgetful. 

We head down the beach in silence. Every wave crashes against the shore with a different rhythm. Besides me, Grace's heartbeat refuses to settle. Between the ocean and the human, there is hardly any silence at all.

The human comes to a stop and drops to sit, facing the waves. I do the same, crossing two arms in front of me, ready to take any notes on the human I might need.

“Grace nervous, question?" I ask softly. He spins to face me head-on.

He turns his head up at me and chuckles lightly. “You can tell?” What a dumb question. 

“Yes. Grace heart loud and fast.” I hear blood pump to its face, and it looks away.

“Sorry.” 

“Is okay. Human can not control.” Before I can stop myself, I reach a digit out and run it over its cheek, pushing its face to look at me again. "This is blush, question? Grace embarrassed, question?” I can't help but be a scientist first, I guess. The portable human thinking machine has made my life a thousand times easier. I can look up any knowledge about the human body and system, but seeing and experiencing it in person is so much different.

It lets out a small yelp at my sudden touch, making its heart beat more. The blood in its face reaches its ears. Although I want to, I refrain from grabbing at the tips of its ears too. One thing I don't stop myself from doing, however, is dragging that claw down to its neck to feel for the carotid pulse. It's one thing to hear but another to feel, and it's strong. I can feel its blood thump against its skin, rappidly, over and over.

“Amaze.” I murmur without thinking. 

"Uh—umm, Adrian?” The little human squeaks out. It has squeezed its eyes shut and forced its head up to the sky to accommodate my touching.

I let out an amused hum. “Apology.” I retract my claw, curling it back into my lap. I stay quiet, hoping it will calm down. When no calming down happens, I try to pivot to my questions, hoping to distract the human.

"How Grace feeling, Question. Eating well, question?” I ask.

It clears its throat. “Uh, I'm feeling good. Better than I did! And yes, eating well!” he smiles. 

“How are ‘burger’, question?”

“The me-burgers are amazing!” he shouts excitedly, hands moving as he talks. “You literally saved me with those things.” I feel myself get a little flustered at the praise, and I hate it.

“Saved Grace in other ways. More important ways.” I let it click out with some disbelief. I cure and bring this human back from death, but ‘me-burger’ is what saves it. Human priorities are weird and confusing.

“Well, yes," he rolls his eyes a bit. “But humans have a strong connection to the food they eat. Physically and mentally. Mentally I didn't want to eat, even though I was dying of starvation. The food tasted awful and had a horrible texture. Your idea to use my muscle was fantastic!” I feel him shift a little closer to me. “It tastes so much better than the other stuff. You kind of cured my starvation and helped cure my bad mental health at the same time!” It laughs as though what it said was funny and not worrying. Though I did not know how linked the mental state and food were, this information is helpful to know when synthesizing more food for it in the future.

“Adrian will work on making 'me-burger' taste better for optimal mental health and human relationship with food for future.” I mentally add this information as a task to get started on when I get back home.

“You don't have to do that, Adrian. I'm okay with the burger. I promise." It looks away, towards the artificial ocean again.

“Adrian must.” I let out a quiet rumbling for a moment as one of my claws gently plays with the sand beneath me. The human looks back at me. 

“Why?” Its head cocks to the side, in a cute way, with wide eyes.

“For Rocky," is all I say, and I can tell it comes out sad. “Adrian will do anything that Rocky asks of it. For Grace.” I know Grace still needs a translator to some extent, but he is good at picking up tone.

He sighs, "Thank you for coming to see me today. Letting me meet you.” He smiles, but his eyes look sad, lids falling low. “I know you hate me, but…I still appreciate it. Appreciate you and everything you have done.” Its eyes well up with liquid. “I know Rocky puts a lot—too much—on you, and I know he's never home with you. I know that," he sniffs, looking down into his lap. “I-I feel like it's all my fault. I'm so…so useless on my own here. I-I'm such a burden to you…” he starts leaking, and I feel myself starting to panic now. I don't know what to do when a human starts leaking from their face. 

I suddenly feel guilty, not a little guilty but deeply guilty. Grace looks so small sitting beside me. He is smaller than I ever thought he would be. Somehow I convinced myself that Grace was the source of my frustration. Looking at him now, crying into his hands, I realize how unfair that was.

“I don't hate you, Grace.” I try and speak as softly as I can. He presses his hands to his face harder, shielding himself from me.

"It's okay that you do. I would hate me too. I—I do hate me.” His voice cracks and he breathes in sharply. “I’ve ruined what y-you two could have had…” I can tell he's trying his best to keep his emotions in, sniffling and wiping the tears from his face just to have them replaced immediately with fresh ones.

I let out a low, pained coo. Slowly, carefully, I pull the human towards me. I expect it to resist, but Grace practically folds into my arms. The moment his head touches my carapace, he latches on. His fingers clutch at me desperately. I scoop his legs off the sand, holding him gently. 

“Grace. Adrian does not hate you.” My words, which are supposed to be comforting, only seem to make it cry harder. "Adrian frustration is not Grace fault. Grace bring Rocky back to me. Rocky could hate Adrian. Not want to be mates and Adrian would be happy that Rocky alive and well.” Grace pulls his very leaky face from me, looking for a moment but not saying anything while he quietly weeps. 

“I-I know your relationship with Rocky is bad…he acts different.” He babbles over his words, “I know w-why you didn't want to see me; I'm not that s-stupid—” I move my arm up in front, making him stop.

The notion of how fragile and small he is worms its way into my thoughts, and it makes me happy that he trusts me as much as he does. That he wants to be okay in my arms, even though he is adamant that I hate him. I let out a sad trill, running a claw through his hair. 

“Grace save all of Erid. All of Earth. Grace risk life for Rocky. For me. Adrian will never hate Grace.” I scratch gently at his head, bringing my claw down to the side, near his ear. He breathes in deep and leans into the touch. 

“Understand, question?” He nods slightly, but the tears and sobs don’t stop. “Grace.”

“Y-yes…I do.” He shoves his face back into me, pulling his arms to his chest. He shakes with sadness.

I feel myself heat up in embarrassment as I contemplate what to say next. “Adrian has…grown to love taking care of Grace…” Rocky was right. I do enjoy it as much as I told myself I didn't. All those times I pushed my limit on how long I could go without sleep and worked so hard for Rocky and Grace, I did, deep down, enjoy it. “Adrian happy hearing Rocky tell how Grace is happy with new thing.” I hum out rather quickly. 

He seems to perk up at this. “Y-you don’t have to do that, Adrian.” His crying is slowing. I pull off his glasses, placing them into the sand next to us. I wipe a claw over his face.

“Adrian not doing anything but tell truth.” He starts giggling and pushing at my claw. He sniffs while I clear the tears from his face.

“Thank you…” he says, breathing in deep. I move my claw back to his ear to comfort him again, scratching it lightly. He shoots up with a high-pitched noise, and I flinch, pulling my claw back.

“Grace okay, question?” I frantically say, grabbing his chin and moving his head to the side. I trace his ear again, and he flails. “Where hurt, question?”

“W-wahait nohoho!” he squirms about in my hold. “Nohot hururt! Tihihicklish!” he squeaks out. 

Rocky has told me about the human version of tickling before, specifically that Grace is quite fond of it, and it's come up in my research on the human body. It has a similar outcome to Eridian tickling. Laughing and wiggling around. I think this method will be a good way to make Grace feel better. 

I pull my claw away with a hum of understanding, and he relaxes. He's lying in my lap, a small smile across his face, but I still see the faintest tears in his eyes. He moves his face to his hands, still sniffling.

“Hm. Adrian will give Grace check up.” He glances through his fingers.

“W-what?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

I gently pull up his shirt, and he tenses up. He's still quite thin, but fat has definitely started to come back. I reach my claw and grab at his ribs, giving slight squeezes. He jumps with a squeal.

“WAHAhait! Adriahahan!” He presses his arms to his side while twisting in my grasp. I feel around the bones, moving my claws up. His ribs definitely don't stick out as much as they did when I first treated him. I squeeze his top ribs while feeling his chest muscle for any growth.

“NAHAHOHO-AH I-I dohont neheheed a CHEHheheCK UHUP—“ he cackles, trying his best to dislodge my claw.

“Grace need check up from Adrian. Make sure Grace eat well. Check for fat and muscle growth.” I chirp with a playful tone. "Is Adrian job." I moved my claw from under his arm to trail down it, using another claw to pull his arm from his side.

“I-I ahaham! Ihihim eahahating gohohood!” I trace lightly down his arm as he pulls at it. I pinch at his elbow and let out a yelp and some more giggles. There’s some muscle growth here, though definitely not as much as I would like.

“Hm. Not enough.” I trace down to his wrist, then back up to his inner arm.

“Ah-I’m sohorry!” he tugs weakly at his hand, soft laughter leaving him.

“Grace no apology. Adrian work harder to help. Make grace strong.” I murmur it out while thinking of solutions for later.

I release his arm, and he presses it to his side again, his legs trying to come up and curl him into a ball. I stick a claw back down, feeling around his tummy. He screeches, fighting my arm. 

“Good. Much fat and muscle here.” I firmly press in, feeling all the muscles twitch under my touch. “Rocky will be happy.” 

“EEEAHHAHA—NOHOHO!” I hear blood rush to his head again as embarrassment takes him. “S-stohOHOP—ADRIAHAHAN!” He kicks at my carapace, and I can’t help but let out some giggles. He’s so small and weak; it’s amusing. I have to admit his little human sounds are quite cute.

“Grace too ticklish for exam, question?” I tease a bit, vibrating my claw. He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head rapidly.

“A-ADRIAHAHAN– *SNRK* THIHihis ihihisn’t neheceHESSARY!” squeaky noises come from him.

I grab a flailing foot with another claw, stretching his leg out as my other moves down to his thigh. I push into the muscle there and let out a pleased trill.

“Good human Grace! Much muscle here. Good good good.” His other leg kicks out frantically as his arms scramble to pull at my claw. “Such a good human. Adrian can tell Grace been running. Keep up with regiment. Good Grace!” I half tease, half praise, soaking in the new wave of blush creeping up his face.

I squeeze his knee, and his leg jerks hard. “How joints, question?” I know the gravity on our planet has taken its toll on his body. I scratch lightly at the underside, pulling giggles from him.

“T-they ahahache a bihit, not bahahd!” He covers his face, pulling at his appendage.

“Hm. Will work on problem. Brace maybe help.” I go back up and squeeze rapidly at his kneecap.

“ADRIAHAhahan! P-pleheHEHEASE! NOHOHO MOHOHORE-AHAHEHEhehe—“ I let go of his leg, and he immediately folds in on himself, gasping for air.

“Grace very good. Fat and muscle build good. Will add more magnesium and zinc to diet. Help.” I state, scratching at his scalp, pulling lightly at his hair.

“O-okahahay—“

“One spot Adrian check.” I unfold him a bit and pull down his pants a few inches, then push into his lower stomach, making him scream and fight me again.

“ADRIHIHI—NAHAHOHOHOT THEHEHERE!” He squeals, curling around my claw. I squeeze at the little pudge that sits there with content.

“Adrian happy happy happy! Grace get more healthy. Grace doing so good!” His cheeks flush again, ‘hiding’ his face as much as he can while wiggling around.

“NOHOHO—“ I move up a bit and press into his belly button. 

“Yes.” I scratch lightly at the little spot.

“EEEHEHAHA—PLEAHAHASE!” He arches up while making a rather adorable noise.

I stop moving my claw, letting it rest against his tummy. His laughter lingers intertwined with little hiccups and tiny giggles. Different kinds of tears staining his face now. I rub soothing circles into his skin while he catches his breath.

His heartbeat is loud and strong. Alive. Every beat is proof that Rocky made it home. Proof that Grace made it home too. The little pitter patter settles something deep inside me.

He's curled up in my arms, his breathing and heart evening out. He has a smile plastered on his face, and soft giggles still spill from his lips. He wraps his arms around the leg that is still settled on his stomach, and he lets out a sigh. 

“Grace…very endearing. Adrian understand why Rocky love so much.” My admission makes him shove his face in my arm with a flustered noise. I reach a claw up and pet at his head again, sliding to scratch at the base of his neck. He melts into my arms, eyes closing. 

“Thank you. I hope you visit me again.” He shifts a little in my hold.

“Will visit. Promise." his small frame shifting to look at me again. “Adrian apologize for not seeing Grace sooner.” Guilt floods my chords.

"No, it's okay. I understand why.” He laughs slightly. "I would be upset at me too.”

“Not upset at Grace. Or Rocky. Adrian understand situation. Adrian knows feeling not logical. No one fault.” I rumble out gently. "Adrian apologize. Not Grace fault. Grace save Rocky. Adrian forever be in Grace dept. Should not have taken feelings out on Grace Rocky.” I move my claw to under his chin, scratching slightly. He smiles wide, scrunching up his shoulders a bit but tilting his head up, giving me more access.

"It's okay.”

“Is not," frustration lacing my voice. His eyes widen slightly. I can't get over what he said. "Grace really not like Grace, question?” He looks away as I lower my claw from his chin.

“I just–I hate the way I'm so helpless here, I guess? I rely on so many Eridians just to wake up and take a walk. I don't, like, hate myself. I feel like a burden to you and Rock–”

“Grace good burden. Adrian like Grace burden.” I see his heart rate start to rise again. I stroke his forehead as I see tears start to swell in his eyes again. He sniffs and takes a deep inhale. 

“Okay, question?” I say firmly.

He wipes at his eyes. “O-okay.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

“Adrian?” Rocky's voice pulls me from my thoughts. I hadn't even noticed it sneak up on me.

“Rocky! How was the meeting?” I ask tenderly. The waves crash softly in front of us.

Instead of answering me, its carapace shifts down, its attention on the little human asleep in my lap. It seems to look in shock and awe as I pet Grace. After a moment, it lets out a small excited sound, something I haven't heard in months. 

“D-Did it go well?” Its voice vibrates from joy, already knowing the obvious answer.

I let out a giggle. “Yes. Me and Grace had a good talk.” I bring my claw to scratch at his scalp. He shifts, making adorable little purring noises in his sleep. 

Rocky walks up in front of me and Grace. "I'm very, very, very happy!” it trills, bringing up its claws and shaking them. 

“Me too," I reply fondly. Rocky suddenly stops; the atmosphere around it changes abruptly.

“Are…we okay?” I let out a small, pained sound as Rocky moves a bit closer to me. 

“Yes. I am sorry, my love. I was never mad at you. I apologize for any hurt I have caused.” I reach an arm out, hoping it will come to me.  ' I placed my emotions on you both when shouldn't have."

They come closer, about to take my claw, but hesitates. “I am sorry too. I have not been home with you to spend time or watch you sleep. I had you work nonstop on Grace, not thinking of your thoughts or feelings. I am sorry.” It shifts back and forth, two claws fidgeting together. “Do you still need space?”

“Rocky, I know why you did it. I do not blame you," I whisper out softly. “I would love nothing more than for you to be in my arms.” 

It takes my claw immediately. It was as if I were afraid I might change my mind. I gently pull Rocky closer until it's pressed into me and Grace. The tension leaves its body so quickly it almost makes me laugh. I start caressing it the same way I'm doing with Grace, and exhaustion immediately starts pulling at it again. In my arms, it softens, and I can feel sleep beginning to take hold. A low rumbling starts deep inside Rocky. So sleepy and content with both of us here. I've missed that sound.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

𖥔 Sorry its on the longer side, hope you liked it! 𖥔

[hthrrloooo]

Catastrophize Benedictine

[greatleekate]

i think i burned myself out of writing fics

i have no ideas and a massive lee mood

i am wholly uncreative

this is so depressing

[greatleekate]

okay never mind i woke up from a tickle dream and now i have a ler grace fic in the works

[greatleekate]

i really want to watch iron lung so i can accurately write bloodymary but im pretty sure it costs $ and also its a horror movie and i dont have money or tolerance for the scaries ☹️

[greatleekate]

i think i burned myself out of writing fics

i have no ideas and a massive lee mood

i am wholly uncreative

this is so depressing

[mayatkls]

eeeksjdksj if your rqs are still open… your artstyle is so gorgeous and i’m such a sucker for grace being destroyed so maybe just rocky or simon gushing abt how cute he is while being tickled. ryland ‘can’t take compliments’ grace btw

ok i suck at dialog so this one is significantly more embarrassing than the rest of them </////3 to make up for this fact, i have drawn both rocky and simon ❤ hope it suffices ❤❤

op is a minor, please keep in mind when interacting!

[greatleekate]

I was selected to be the new editor in chief of my schools paper so the outgoing EIC (he’s graduating) did a call with me today to show me how to design the newspaper layout for print

anyway he was showing how he types into a template and keyboard smashes to keep the text box from auto deleting

🫠🫠🫠🫠the keyboard smash he always uses is “tktktktk”

you can imagine where my brain went

[greatleekate]

I dont have any requests or anything atm, but

im really enjoying the kid reader fics!! as much as I love all the project hail mary fics that people have made, I like the kid reader ones a lot since I am 16 myself😭

keep it up!!

this is so sweet, thank you for reading!!

[greatleekate]

Pilot Detected, pt. 4

I was really insecure about this one, it sat in my drafts for a while. Not sure if it’s any good. There’s both comfort tickles and some more playful stuff in here. kid!reader

lee!reader, Ler!Grace, Ler!Adrian

Summary: reader, Grace, and Rocky make their way to Erid. Reader reflects on how the vibe around tickling changes over time. ———

Your normal routine on the Hail Mary shifts into something you barely recognize. Rocky is endlessly curious about tickling and what it means for you to like it. Grace almost seems to like it more than you do, taking every opportunity to make you laugh. 

It’s so much attention, but you love it. And the tickling has made you come out of your shell more than Grace could’ve imagined. Now, it’s like you’re a different person: you initiate conversations, you make jokes, and you even seem to relax a bit with your guilt over being asleep during the actual mission. You feel constantly cared for. 

Rocky’s favorite thing to do nowadays is to wake you up with tickles. He’d found his ball too clunky and uncomfortable for the long journey to Erid, so he built himself a carapace-tight xenonite suit. Now, he sits at the foot of your bunk to watch you sleep. Often, you’re woken up after eight hours of rest by a few gentle tickles on the sole of your foot or a claw softly scratching into your tummy. 

Grace prefers a more playful method. Sometimes, when you’re both sitting in the lab, Grace will catch you watching him work in awe. He’ll beckon you over and patiently explain what he’s doing. Then, he would quiz you on the things he just taught. You’re a fast learner, so you usually get it right, but when you’re wrong he’ll say “Try again” with a smirk and tickle you out of any sort of coherence. 

“Keep talking,” he’ll say with a smug grin. “Oh… right, you can’t, ‘cause I’m tickling you. That’s rough,” he’d add with fake pity. 

Usually it ends in you squealing, “I cahahan’t think when you’re dohohoing that!!” He won’t stop until you either say the correct answer through your laughter or you actually say stop. Which, knowing you, you’d never do. 

Other times, he will grab you when you walk past him, put you in his lap, and start tickling you absentmindedly as he types away at his computer. Then he’ll have the audacity to tell you to be quieter so he can focus on his work. 

Grace also loves it when you ask for what you want, and he’s more than happy to oblige. When a few days go by and you haven’t asked for tickles, he will get worried. He’ll pretend to take your temperature, saying, “Are you sick? You haven’t been in the mood for tickles in so long,” poking you in random spots to “check your health.” His favorite bit is diagnosing you with “a case of the giggles.”

If you have the nerve to tell him his title of “Dr.” isn’t remotely medical, he’ll drag you to the floor or a nearby soft surface and go for your worst spots. He can be mean when he wants to be. 

He gets in the mood to tickle you very spontaneously. When he’s the one initiating, he’s very predictable and always goes for his two favorite spots on you—your tummy or under your arms. Grace’s favorite facial expression on you is the look of delighted panic you get when he pins one of your arms up to scribble under it. 

Once, the two of you were sitting side-by-side in the Don’t Go Crazy Room watching a random movie. 

“Can I see your hand?” He’d asked you. 

You’d offered your right hand, confused. It was the one closer to his body, so he grabbed it with his left hand and pulled it around his shoulders, exposing your entire right side. 

For a second you thought he was trying to cuddle, but then his grip tightened on your captive hand. Your mouth had dropped open in shock, and then a flood of anticipatory giggles had come out of it, as he wiggled his fingers slowly towards your wide-open underarm. You’d tried to squirm away to no avail. 

You still have dreams about that time. You always wake up from those dreams with a happy smile on your face. 

As you ran out of real food and switched to coma slurry, you could see your and Grace’s mental health decline in real time. You were still getting the number of calories and nutrients required, but eating felt like a punishment with the chalky texture and salty taste of the slurry. Grace had to convince and cajole you to eat, which in a way kept him eating as well for the sake of taking care of you. Sometimes he would tickle you to cheer you up after another mundane, unappetizing meal. 

When you had to switch to eating Taumoeba, both of you started losing energy and weight fast. It was tasteless and lacked a lot of the vitamins you needed, but it was just enough to keep you alive. Rocky watched helplessly as his two favorite humans withered away. It was a rougher period. The tickling mostly stopped, turning into occasional light tickles for comfort. The two of you watched a lot of movies and TV. You cuddled a lot. You became a lot closer, intimately familiar with the trials of slowly starving on each others’ bodies. You never started calling Grace your dad, but it was implied. 

It was a difficult few years when you reached Erid. Your mental health was hanging by a thread, and the only way Grace stayed sane was by taking care of you. Rocky was very protective of you two, harshly demanding your needs from the Eridian doctors, engineers, scientists that came to take care of you, create the food you needed, and build you a place to live on Erid. 

Things got better quickly when they were able to make meat from your DNA and muscle tissue. Once you were getting proper amounts of iron, vitamin C, vitamin B, and vitamin D, your nutrition improved exponentially. A few months after that, the Adrian had finished building the biodome. You and Grace moved as soon as possible. You were delighted to discover that Adrian had made you your own bedroom. 

The first few weeks, both you and Grace didn’t do much except sleep. As soon as the two of you stepped into the biodome and had eaten something that wasn’t Taumoeba, you realized you were safe in a way you hadn’t been in a while. The realization had allowed you to take blissfully warm showers and sleep for about 12 hours each in your new beds. You’d woken up to find Rocky watching you, stumbled into the kitchen to eat, and gone back to bed. That was your and Grace’s routine. Rocky found it extremely concerning, but was pacified as you slowly gained back your weight and strength. 

When you both started feeling ready to live like people again, you had more time to process your feelings. You quickly found that you had a hard time sleeping alone, even with Rocky or Adrian watching you. You’d lie awake for hours, tossing and turning. When you slept, you’d have nightmares and wake up with Grace’s name on the tip of your tongue before you remembered yourself. 

One night, you just couldn’t do it anymore. You ignore Adrian’s chirp of confusion and stumble into Grace’s doorway. He’s awake and working on his laptop. Rocky is tinkering with something as well at the foot of the bed. 

Grace looks up. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“I can’t sleep,” you admit. “Couldn’t sleep the night before. Or the night before that.”

He immediately moves over to make room for you in his bed. He pats the empty spot. You hesitate and then scoot in. 

He gently pulls you against him, fingers tangling in your hair. “Have you been having nightmares?”

You nod. 

He hums thoughtfully. “Me too.”

You’re both quiet for a while. Adrian speaks up in their deep, rumbling voice to suggest: “Can humans have—” They cut off. “Need word.”

Adrian and Rocky debate the proper word for a second before Rocky supplies his partner with “separation anxiety.”

Grace chuckles. “Oh boy, can we,” he mutters sarcastically. “Yeah. We can. Maybe it’s because we’re not used to sleeping in different rooms.”

You’re not really paying attention to the conversation anymore. You are more relaxed than you’ve felt in days, falling asleep to the lullaby of Grace’s heartbeat. He notices, looking down and petting your hair with a small smile. 

When you realize everyone is looking at you fondly, you clear your throat, cheeks slightly pink. “Uh,” you fumble. “I guess I should… go back to my own bed. Train myself out of the, uh, separation anxiety.”

You start to get up and Grace tugs you back. “What, sweetheart, you’re going to go back to bed and be lonely and have more nightmares?” He asks rhetorically, a sympathetic look on his face. 

You shrug helplessly. You shoot a wary glance at your audience of two, who are watching quietly, and murmur: “I don’t know, Grace. This isn’t normal.”

“We’re not normal,” he replies, pulling you back into his arms. 

You sigh deeply in response, cuddling closer. 

“Hey now, kiddo,” he says quietly. “That’s a big sigh.”

You don’t respond beyond a sleepy hum of acknowledgment. 

He shifts slightly, moving his hand to your side. You freeze as he starts wiggling his fingers gently from your hip to your ribs. His chin rests on the top of your head. “You gonna lighten up, or what?” 

You pretend not to hear him, trying to stay still. A few giggles slip out, muffled by his t-shirt. 

Vaguely in the background you hear Rocky explaining to Adrian what tickling is. 

“I need you to laugh properly before I let you go to sleep,” Grace teases in my ear. “Don’t they say something about not going to bed angry?”

“I’m nohohot angry,” you giggle into his chest. 

“Ah, whatever, you get the idea,” he mutters, clawing gently into your lower belly. 

Grace notices Adrian peering curiously over the edge of the bed. “Hey, Adrian, you wanna help?”

“Yes, want to know what Grace is doing,” Adrian says. 

“Poke here, with your claw,” Grace instructs, pointing at your side. You try to block it with your hands, but Grace patiently moves them out of the way.  He crosses your wrists and uses one big hand to pin them to your chest.  

Adrian is too gentle at first, afraid to hurt you. But soon, with Grace’s encouragement, they begin tickling you silly, clawing and pinching at your ribs. 

Grace shoves your hoodie up so he can get at your belly unrestricted. “That’s better,” he teases, drawing out the ‘r.’

“Nohoho dohohon’t—“ you protest. 

“No?” Grace teases. “You sure about that? You look pretty happy.”

Adrian’s claws dance against your side as Grace torments your bellybutton with a few teasing fingers. You snort-laugh, prompting Adrian to first startle and then coo in adoration. 

“Awh, that’s cute, isn’t it, Adrian?” Grace murmurs in your ear, trying to see if he can make you snort again. 

“Okahahay okahahay- stahahap…” you whine, curling up around Grace’s hand. 

Adrian removes their claw and Grace slows down, rubbing your tummy gently. You’re thoroughly tired out. Grace shifts more to make room for you in his bed and coaxes you into lying down. 

You shed your hoodie, warmed up from being tickled. Underneath is Grace’s “element of surprise” shirt, hanging loose over your smaller frame. 

“I was wondering where that had gone,” he mutters. You chuckle softly in reply. 

He rests his head on the pillow next to yours, sneaking his hand under your shirt and tracing down your spine. You shiver visibly—it tickles a little, but it feels nice. 

He traces across the smooth expanse of your back, raising goosebumps wherever his fingers wander. You start to keep track of the shapes. A Fibonacci spiral, a free body diagram, a sine curve…You fall asleep peacefully for the first time in a while. 

[kitkatfingers]

i feel like everybody's singing out of tune

pairing: colt seavers x reader

summary: because of circumstances outside of your control, you're left overwhelmed and anxious. colt offers a solution in the form of a friendly scuffle.

warnings: no use of y/n, gn reader, switch!reader, switch!colt, established relationship, descriptions of stress/anxiety, light angst, hurt/comfort i guess?, mentions of friend issues but no specifics, reader is described as physically weaker than colt but no descriptions of body types, this is just an excuse to write a tickle fight, light swearing, light kissing

word count: 2k

authors notes: this one is very self-indulgent. can i have a personal funny guy to help me get rid of that annoying skin crawling anxious energy that leaves you restless? and yeah ive fallen into the goslingverse wormhole. title: petals on the moon by wasia project

///

You let your phone clatter onto the counter, not caring about being careful with it.

Leaned over on your elbows, you dropped your head down to run your hands through your hair shakily. Your fingers met at the back of your skull. You could feel your body trembling slightly.

The worst part of all of this was that you couldn't do anything. It was outside of your control.

You hated not having control. It always left you shaky, anxious, distressed. Like if you could only take charge then nothing bad would ever happen.

You clenched your fingers tight, pulling at your hair, trying to focus on the dull ache it provided.

Not on your phone chiming with new messages.

You told her this would happen. She had come to you for advice weeks before, and the two of you talked at length about what decision she should make. You told her exactly all the ways it could go wrong but, ultimately, she was in charge of her own life.

Now everything was going bad, and she was begging for help.

The trembling in your body increased slightly. Your chest stuttered, making you gasp sharply.

The front door rattled, and you heard Colt thudding his way through the apartment.

You forced a deep breath, running a hand down your face. You straightened just as Colt got into the kitchen.

"Hey." You said, then cleared your throat to sound less breathless. "How was work?"

Colt stopped dead in his tracks, eyes scanning up and down your form. "What happened?"

You shook your head. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Colt frowned, and stepped closer to you. His hands, calloused but gentle, rubbed up and down your arms.

"You're shaking."

"Yeah." You let out a weak laugh. "I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin."

"What's going on?"

Your phone chimed again in that moment, screen lighting up with your friend's name.

"Ah." Colt said simply, turning back to you. "Things turned out bad?"

You exhaled sharply, stepping away from Colt's embrace to pace around the kitchen.

"It's bad." You said, pacing towards the doorway. "Everything I said could go wrong went wrong, and now I feel like maybe my paranoia is actually good for something."

"You did tell her." Colt said, watching you. "But she makes her own decisions."

"Right." You agreed, turning on your heel and pacing to the opposite end of the kitchen. "And I don't wanna say 'I told you so' because that's rude, but I really want to and that makes me feel bad. And, on a deeper level, I don't feel bad about that."

"You feel bad because…you don't feel bad for her?" Colt frowned a little.

"Exactly." You turned, made your way back to the doorway. Turned on your heel again, but froze in spot. You looked up at Colt. "Am I a bad friend?"

"No!" Colt soothes. "No, of course not."

You nodded, looking aside, flapping your hands by your sides. "I feel like a bad friend."

Colt sighed through his nose softly. "Look. You spent weeks talking with her about it. You stayed up half the night more times than is healthy, just to make sure you covered every angle. She knew exactly what she was getting into. None of this is your fault."

"Feels like my fault." You admitted in a whisper.

"It isn't." He repared, more firm this time. "It's just your brain trying to control the situation."

You buried your face in your hands. "I know."

Colt didn't approach you, letting you process.

"I feel like I'm about to climb the walls." You said, emerging from your hiding place, hands flapping again.

Colt pursed his lips, thinking. Then, seemingly making a decision, he pushed off from the counter he had leaned up against, and came to stand in front of you.

"Alright." He said, stepping into a fighting stance, fists raised up by his face. "Have at it."

"What?" You blinked, hands faltering. It felt like bugs crawled under your skin at the loss of movement, so you took to squeezing your hands in and out into fists.

Colt raised his eyebrows expectantly, spreading his arms wide. "Fight me."

"I'm not going to fight you." You objected.

"Why not? It'll ease the adrenaline." He said, then pushed at your shoulder with just enough force to make you sway backwards a little. "Come on!"

"Colt." You admonished. He pushed again, on your other shoulder. "Seriously?"

You locked eyes and for a long, silent moment, neither of you moved. Colt - never one to back down - and you - avoidant of all things confrontational.

Then he smirked.

He shot out his hand to squeeze at your ribs in one, single movement.

"Hey!" You gasped, flinching. His arm was back at his side before you could even try to catch it.

"What?" The smirk got impossibly wider, and he struck again in the same spot. You flinched again, trying to block his hand.

That was when your phone rang, buzzing against the counter loudly.

"Don't even think about it." Colt said immediately when you looked in the direction of your phone.

"It could be her." You said, taking half a step towards it. Colt side stepped to block your path.

"She'll be fine." He said. "You don't need to fix her life for her."

"What if-"

"You've done enough." He insisted. The phone fell silent.

You couldn't help it - your eyes flickered again to where it lay on the counter.

"Alright." Colt said with finality, and then his hands were on you.

Colt could be precise when he wanted to - stunt work required precision as well as guts - but that was not his intention with you this time. His hands kept moving, kept jumping from your ribs, to your thighs, to your stomach, neck, hips. You had no way of tracking or predicting his movements.

"Come on!" Colt baited over your scattered laughter. "Don't you just wanna let loose?"

You knew you were playing right into his hands. But what other choice did he leave you? You swatted at him, weaving your hands between his reaching ones, and pinched his sides. Giggles burst out of him immediately, and he twisted against your grip.

Colt, however, was a stunt actor. And stronger than you. So when he wrapped his arms around you and hooked his foot over your ankle to tackle you to the ground, you went down like a sack of poatoes.

Flat on your back, Colt's leg thrown over one of yours, you felt a bit like a bug stuck upside down, limbs flailing to no avail.

Colt sneaked his hand under your hoodie, nails scratching just by your hip. Laughing loudly, you aimed your hand at his neck. His chin ducked and shoulder came up, trapping your fingers against his skin. He wheezed a laugh, but apparently wasn't overtaken by your tickling that much. He lowered himself until he was level with your abdomen, hands hiking up your hoodie.

"Don't you dare-" You warned, but Colt was already lowering his mouth to your abdomen, blowing hard against your skin. Your back arched as you burst out laughing.

"Are you just gonna lay there and take it?" Colt teased, lifting off you, but replacing his mouth with both hands against your sides.

Okay, you thought, focus.

You curled you leg up, bracing your foot against Colt's hip. Then you hooked one hand under his arm, the other on his shoulder, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket. You knew Colt was humouring you, but that didn't stop you. Taking a deep breath through your laughter, you shoved at him with all your might, forcing him onto the floor next to you and quickly following after him.

When you rolled on top of him, straddling his hips, he was already grinning.

You slapped his reaching hands away from your thighs. "Stop it!"

"You gonna make me?" Colt sounded thrilled - no, hopeful - and reached again, managing a couple of squeezes above your knee. His eyes twinkled when you yelped and you realised - you have to put a stop to this. With newfound determination, you pulled Colt's unzipped jacket to both sides, exposing the tshirt underneath.

"That's not exactly what I had in mi-whoah!" Colt's tease was cut short as you wedged your fingers under his arms, scribbling your nails at his uppermost ribs. His shoulders scrunched up to his ears, head thrown back in wheezy laughter.

"You're such a little shit, Colt." You said over the noise, though without much heat, and felt his legs kick out behind you.

"Oholny for yohou!" He managed, and you decided he was too coherent.

So you leaned over him and blew a raspberry against his neck.

He squealed. An honest-to-god high pitched squeal, and his hands gripped at your hoodie desperately, tugging, but clearly with no further plan of action.

"That bad?" You asked, leaning back to look at his face. He was still laughing, since you hadn't stopped scribbling your fingers over his ribs. His cheeks turned pink at your words.

You grinned, satisfied with the results.

"Nothing to say?" You couldn't help but tease. Colt made a choked, grumbling sort of sound that made you laugh lightly.

Then his grip tightened and your world tilted.

Colt had you underneath him on the floor again. His weight pinned you down effectively as he sat over your legs. He positioned his hands over you, curled into claws.

When you shot your hands out to try and catch his, he pulled them back. Out of your reach, but still claws.

You felt yourself flush.

He only grinned, dopping his hands abruptly until they almost made contact, then pulling back again as you flinched.

"Nothing to say?" He repeated your words.

You took his distraction as an opportunity, and tried aiming for his hips. Arms flailed amongst vague threats and choked off laughter, as both of you tried to gain the upper hand.

Colt, of course - damn him - came out victorious.

He immobilitsed both your arms by crossing them at the wrists and pressing them into your chest tightly with his hand. His other hand braced on the floor by your head, and he leaned over you to cover your face in light kisses. Your eyes scrunched shut at the fluttering, ticklish sensation, but any attempts at turning your head away were futile as he simply followed your movements.

"Leave me alohone!" You complained, face burning at the affection.

"Mm-m." Colt objected, trailing down over your jaw and to your neck. His stubble made the feeling even worse.

"Noho!"

"Will you promise to leave your phone alone?" Colt asked against your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You scrunched your shoulder, but his head blocked the movement.

"Yes, yes, just let me up!" You agreed quickly.

You felt his lips curl into a grin against your neck, and he nipped you lightly before straightening. He kept your arms in his grip, though.

"Don't even try tickling me." He warned you, eyebrows raised, but still grinning.

"I won't."

Colt released you, getting to his feet. By the time you managed to scramble to yours, he was grabbing your phone off the counter.

"For safekeeping." He exlpained when he saw you looking, slipping your phone into the back pocket of his jeans. Chuckling lightly at your disgruntled expression, he leaned over to place soft kiss on your lips in an attempt to pacify you. "Wanna order waffles and watch that trash show you love?"

"It's not trash." You muttered, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders.

"It's kinda trash, babe." He said, leading you to the living room.

"I want extra strawberries on my waffle." You said, ignoring his comment.

"I will get you triple strawberries." Colt said, with all the seriousness of a man heading into battlefield. "Quadruple strawberries."

You snorted, letting him nudge you gently down onto the sofa.

He was right, you mused to yourself quiety as you watched him tap in the order on his phone. You've done what you can, and freaking out over someone else's bad choices wasn't goint to benefit anybody.

You reached for the TV remote before Colt could catch you staring.

With him around, everything would turn out just fine.

[kitkatfingers]

do i need to say it

[gay-geek]

thinking bout someone sitting on my arms and softly destroying my underarms

[greatleekate]

Pilot Detected, pt. 3

kid!Reader

Ler!Grace, Ler!Rocky, Lee!Reader

Summary: Reader gets what they asked for and more.

———

Grace hoists Rocky’s ball onto your bunk and crawls in as well. You huff out a soft chuckle because it’s so cramped. 

“What’s so funny?” Grace asks, pushing you gently down by your shoulders to lay on your back. 

“N-nothing,” you reply, letting Grace manhandle you. There’s a nervous smile on your face. 

“Is okay. Grace Rocky give you something to laugh about, statement,” Rocky trills. 

You flush pinker and cross your arms over your stomach. Grace moves them patiently out of the way with a pointed look over the rims of his glasses that gives you butterflies. 

“Grace teach where humans are ticklish, question?” Rocky asks, tapping his dominant legs together excitedly.

“Well, we figured out last time that you’re ticklish here”—he pokes your tummy—“here,”—he scribbles under your arms—“and here,” he finishes, clawing at your ribs. 

You’re already a giggly mess, torn between trying to squirm away and hide your face. 

“But…” Grace continues, “I bet there’s a ton more spots.” 

Rocky sticks his claws through the mesh panel of his ball to drum lightly on your tummy. A stream of bubbly giggles, tangled with Rocky’s name, leaves your mouth and you try to curl up on your side. 

“Ah-ah-ah,” Grace tuts, grabbing your hips and centering you on your back. “Okay. Let’s try a search grid.” 

“A what?”  

“Quadrant one,” Grace announces, his hands finding the left side of your neck. 

You’re not prepared. You laugh brightly through cries of “Grace, wait!”, twisting on the mattress. Every time you pull your shoulder up to protect your neck, Grace’s fingers pursue your laughter to the other side of your neck. It’s impossible to escape. 

“We have to be thorough. Stop trying to speed up to quadrant two, kiddo, it’s not very scientific,” Grace complains, pinning your left shoulder down to scribble gently around your left ear. He chuckles at the squeal you make in reply. 

Rocky makes an endeared noise and starts to trace his claws up and down your sides. You let out a stream of bubbly giggles. 

“You are just the cutest,” Grace mutters to himself, leaning down to blow a raspberry into your neck. The sound you make is probably high-pitched enough to sound like microphone feedback. 

Grace comes up for air, wincing. “Jeez, kid,” he remarks, moving his hands to skitter across your collarbone and squeeze at the muscle beneath it. You didn’t even know you were ticklish there. “Are you trying to make me deaf?”

“Nahahaha- no, I’m sohohorry…” 

“Stop apologizing. Why are you always apologizing? We gotta do something about that,” Grace says in a fake-scolding tone, doing an unfair 180 just to tease you. “You- need- more- self-confidence,” he adds playfully, poking you somewhere new on your torso to emphasize each word. 

You make a noise of protest and indignation that is immediately overtaken by squeaky giggles as Rocky tries tickling your palm through the mesh panel. 

“Ooh, nice find, Rocky,” Grace says, grabbing your other hand.

You tug uselessly on your wrists but they each have one hand and they’re not letting up. Rocky is doing more of a tickly hand massage and Grace has stretched your fingers back to scribble over your palms with his fingernails. Your heels thump futilely against the bed to let the restless energy out as you let your head fall back and laugh. 

“Ahaha…wahahait,” You stammer through various squeaks and snorts. 

Grace slows down. “Wait for what?”

You try to catch your breath. “I need a breheheak…”

Grace looks down at you admiringly while you catch your breath. “How do you know when break is over, question?” Rocky asks, tapping his ball in excitement. 

Grace chuckles. “We gotta wait for the kid to say so, Rock,” he says. Then, to you: “Don’t wanna kill you, kiddo.”

Rocky bounces slightly. “Are you saying so, question?” 

You laugh, from humor this time, and nod. 

Grace resumes the search grid. “Quadrant—four? Five? Ah, fudge it.” He squeezes at your hips, showing Rocky how to do it when it gets a good reaction from you. They move on quickly though, eager to cover more ground. 

“Does it tickle here?” Grace asks, squeezing at your thighs. Your hands fly down to grab his, face turning red as you laugh helplessly. “Mm, all I’m hearing is laughter, you’ve gotta be more specific,” Grace teases. 

“YEHEHES it dohohohes!” You squeal.

“Oh, really, I couldn’t tell,” Grace muses playfully. Rocky traces delicate lines under your knee in the soft flesh. Your legs kick involuntarily. 

“Grace, what is this appendage called, question?”

“Knees, Rock,” Grace says, squeezing at the muscle above your kneecap and grinning at the way you shriek in response. “Very ticklish knees.”

Grace’s fingers scribble down your calf and even you’re surprised at the soft, breathy giggles that it coaxes out of you. He hesitates at your foot. “Do you want me to keep going, kiddo?”

You try to catch your breath, debating. “M-maybe- maybe just a bit,” you stammer. “Nohot too much, I cahan’t handle it…”

Rocky chirps curiously. Grace explains: “For a lot of people feet are the most ticklish spot. It’s very intense.”

Grace doesn’t take your sock off, trying not to overwhelm you, but he does scratch gently at the arch of your foot while holding the ankle with his other hand. You cover your face to muffle your loud giggles. You try to tug your foot away on reflex, your leg straining against his strong hold. 

“Grace correct, foot is very ticklish, statement,” Rocky affirms. He grabs your other foot and starts playing with your toes in a way that shouldn’t tickle nearly as much as it does. 

“Should we play ‘This Little Piggy’?” Grace asks, a cheeky smirk on his face. 

“No DOHOHOHON’T I’m nohohot a BAHAHABY!” You shriek. 

“Aww, are you sure? You’re giggling like a little kid,” Grace points out unhelpfully. 

Mercifully, Grace lets go of your foot. He brings his hands up to your face, resting his thumbs on your cheeks and using his remaining fingers to scratch gently at your neck and behind your ears. Rocky continues playing with your toes. Your laughter dies down into soft giggles and gasps. 

Rocky abandons your foot and rolls back up towards your face, tapping his claws on his ball to make out your facial expression better through his echolocation. He makes a series of cooing noises you’ve never heard him make before. 

Grace stops tickling and your shoulders relax. His thumbs stroke your cheeks gently and he leans down to press a fond kiss to your forehead. 

Your breath catches in your throat. “Wha- what was that for?”

Grace clears his throat, looks up at the ceiling with a shuddering breath, and looks back down at you. You can see a slight sheen of wetness in his eyes. You know he’s not the best at verbalizing his own feelings, but you watch him try. For you. 

“It’s just nice to see you happy,” he manages, his voice a little rough. 

You almost smile, because he cries at everything, and you can’t help but find it endearing. But you don’t. You pull him down for a hug instead. 

He awkwardly falls down into your chest with an ‘oof’, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as possible. “Thank you,” you murmur, so quiet he might not have heard it. 

He nods slightly against your chest, acknowledging your thanks without making a big deal out of it. Rocky lets you have a moment.

Grace sits up and Rocky immediately bombards him with questions. “Laugh so much, so loud, statement. Why sensitive in some places more than others, question? How long does it take for humans to lose breath when tickled, question? Why blood flow go to face when tickled, question? Why so cute, question? Why does laugh change with different spots—“

Grace cuts him off, chuckling. “Slow down, buddy,” he says. 

You watch them talk about your ticklish spots right over your head. Your face is beyond flushed. 

“Feet, armpits, and ribs are usually the most sensitive spots for people, but it also depends on the person,” Grace explains. 

Rocky bounces around excitedly. “How many more times can we tickle, question? Want to learn more, more, more.”

Grace looks to you with a smile. “That’s up to the kid.”

You look back up at them, shocked silent. You get the sense that this is only the beginning.

[kittens79-1]

How I keep checking my phone over and over because @cocoa-critter is posting a new Bloodymary fic soon that will include my two favorite tropes COMBINED (tickles and hurt/comfort)