I’m 16 years old, this is mostly a tkl blog (nsfw dni) but I post other random shit depending on my mood, if anyone thinks they know who this blog person is irl, that is impossible, don’t bring it up in public to save my decency
Basic info: Pronouns are she/her, and I’m 16 (minor! NSFW blogs dni)
I am a lurker, a bit too shy to reach out but if you ever want to send something or message me that’s totally fine!
Fandoms I like!
Project Hail Mary (anything with Ryan Gosling in it lowkey too)
Stranger things
Supernatural
911 abc
Rottmnt / tmnt
Marvel (Spider-Man, Deadpool, x-men, The Avengers, Bucky Barnes and capcicle)
Dc / batfam
Maze runner
Scream (1996)
5sos (5 seconds of summer)
One direction (rip)
YouTubers: Kevin Lange show, Jake Webber, Tara yummy, any Minecraft shit, tommyinnit, sturniolo triplets
I think that’s it, like obviously don’t be a weirdo or else I’ll block you, and I don’t care much about age or anything, just don’t make this space uncomfortable!!
Dude my sleep schedule has been freaked up recently and it’s not even holidays, I’m just staying up till 1:30 every night and I can’t blame myself at this point because I just want some uninterrupted quiet time to myself cause everything outside of my room is so overwhelming
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.
I told you guys I would start posting everything in my head straight away! Bare with me whilst I get back into my writing boots <3
Grace is a super physical guy with people he is close to, strangers wouldn't think it however if he is close with a person he LOVES physical affection of all forms. (I strongly headcanon he and Ilyukhina would sit on a sofa legs sprawled over each other discussing the mission)
With his love for physical affection comes a love for tickling and he loves to tickle others, whether it be a jab in one of his friends sides or full on bear hug tickling someone he loves it, he loves seeing his loved ones laugh so freely (is also immensely ticklish but that's for another time)
He's not a mean Ler however he is smug which some would argue is more unbearable because he has a shit eating grin on his face whilst he is tickling or teasing his victims.
He is a lover of the build up, he gets that glean in his eyes and you know you're in for it. you know that slow head tilt he does I imagine he will turn around to his lee slowly looking over his glasses tilting his head and you KNOW you're in for it.
He lovesssss a chase even more if you run just know you will be chased down, and this man is faster than he looks so he will purposefully slow down to prolong the chase until you're already a pile of giggles when he gets to you.
He either starts tickling one of two ways after a chase.
One, if he's managed to corner you he will slowly approach wiggling his fingers so your curl up into yourself giggling even harder before he finally gets to you and starts slowly tickling your stomach or sides and relishing in it as you fall into laughter leaning your head against his chest holding onto his wrists.
Two, if he grabs you from behind bear hug style he immediately grapples into your sides digging into your sides and ribs and tickling ruthlessly from the start following you down to the ground where he will proceed to pin you down and tickle the ever loving shit out of you.
On the topic of shit, so help you god if you swear when he tickles you you're getting "punished" and by punished he is going for where ever you are most ticklish and drilling into that spot until you apologise, will stay stuff like "Oh so that's how its gonna be huh?" "do you want to apologise for your language yet? No well guess I'll have to keep teaching you a lesson until you do"
On that note Grace is a teaser, he will tease the ever loving daylights out of you saying things along the lines of "oh what was that?" or "it tickles? well that's kind of the point!" this man is a menace through and through.
when he's finished tickling you he will hang around a while and make sure you're all good he's always one to check in on boundaries and to make sure nothing was to far.
When he's made sure you're all good he'll walk away like nothing has happened with a ruffle of your hair or a final poke to the side.
When he sees you around for the rest of the day he will throw a smug smile your way or pretend to grab at you to watch you flinch away and takes sick joy from it.
Ahhhh I hope you guys like them :) please feel free to send in requests!!
[Description: a looping bouncy animation of grace and Rocky from project hail mary. Grace throws himself onto rocky for a hug, smiling and nuzzling his face to the top of Rocky's xenonite covered carapace. Rocky brings a claw up to ruffle Grace's hair and grace throws himself even more on top of rocky, rocky wrapping his arms around grace. End description.]
So for number 6 (Could you win the "Arms Up" game?)
I feel like I could, I just gotta lock in and not laugh, how hard can that be?
For number 10 (In your opinion, what is an underrated spot that you share?)
My opinion? Hm… maybe my lowest ribs but specifically more on my back, so I guess the back of the lowest of my ribs could get me cackling.
I’m gonna out myself here- i wanted to know if I could t-word myself (I know you can’t but just here me out) and almost every time I squeeze somewhere around my lowest ribs I flinch and a smile comes on my face so I’d assume that if someone where to try that out, I’d have a strong reaction. And I think having a tkl spot on your back is underrated.
And lastly for number 16… (What is your favorite tickle trope (tickle monster, being stuck in a compromising position, massage turning to tickles, etc.)?)
My favourite t-word trope you ask? Being in a lee mood from something that happened that’s t-word related (like a tkl scene or someone else getting tkled and your just sitting there like “I need to get outta here”) and someone taking notice and playful tkling happens.
But you can never go wrong with comfort tickles or I also specifically like the idea of ler wrecking Lee to get them tired so they can sleep. Like they’ve been staying up at ungodly hours at night, but they can’t sleep cause there mind won’t shut up, so the ler comes up with an idea to cheer them up and tire them out at the same time… COME ON THATS ADORABLE (and totally not entirely self indulgent)
Gosh I yapped- but thanks for sending the ask girl I love doing these sorts things 🫶🏻
Decided to make some new SFW tickle questions since I've seen the same ones floating around for a while, so @cayjno and I came up with some! Feel free to spread around and have fun!
What spot is the most flustering to be tickled on?
Would you rather try and fight back during rough tickles or give in and accept them? If you fight back, how quickly would you lose your strength?
What is a tease that melts you instantly?
Do you like to give / be given revenge tickles?
What is your favorite death spot (if you have more than one - if not, pick one that is a bad spot)?
Could you win the "Arms Up" game?
What spot (if any) makes you sleepy?
What is your favorite tickle game?
Would you rather have 2 lers tease you about your spots and reactions, or talk to each other about them like you're not there?
In your opinion, what is an underrated spot that you share?
What is your favorite tool?
Do you like being chased with the threat of being tickled? If so, why?
Would you rather have one ler or multiple?
What tool is the most flustering to be tickled with?
Out of these options, which would you rather - being restrained, being pinned or being left to squirm?
What is your favorite tickle trope (tickle monster, being stuck in a compromising position, massage turning to tickles, etc.)?
How do you feel about mouth tickles (raspberries, nibbles, etc.)?
Can you say the word out loud? And are there any spots that you can't say out loud?
Would you rather plan a session or have it be spontaneous?
What spot of yours would you like to have more attention on?
Pillow under the back during tickles - yes or no? Why?
Would you like to give / be given an impossible challenge (arms up, don't move, don't laugh, etc.)? If so, would you like there to be consequences if (when) you fail?
Favorite pet name to be called during teases / tickles?
Are you sensitive to air tickles (someone wiggling their fingers over a spot, etc.)?
Would you rather be tickled face up or face down? Why?
When being tickled, what technique works best - soft or rough tickles?
What would be more flustering - focusing on one specific spot, or focusing on multiple?
Do you have any uncommon tickle spots?
Reward or punishment tickles? Why?
Would you rather have your arms tied above your head or out to the sides?
this is gonna be multiple parts!! potentially a series or something idk
kid!reader
ler!Grace, lee!reader
summary: reader has been alive in coma since Grace woke up. He didn’t know how to wake them, so when they finally wake up, he can’t wait to have another human around.
———
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Grace says to the panicked teen in the coma bed. “You’re- you’re waking up from a coma. Try to stay calm.”
You splutter and cough, immediately starting to hyperventilate. Grace is about to intervene when your breathing pattern changes into steady, controlled counts of four. Interesting, Grace thinks. You must be good at self-regulation. That only manages to make him more curious about you.
After a few hours of talking you through the uncomfortable medical aspects of waking up from a coma, giving you privacy to put some real clothes on, and figuring out if you have amnesia like he does (you don’t), he finally explains his side of the story.
You’re wide-eyed as Grace explain how he was sent on the mission against his will. You don’t believe him when he explains how he met Rocky, and you nearly have a heart attack when he peeks around the corner. You’re relieved to hear about how Rocky and Grace managed to identify a predator of astrophage.
“I- I have so many questions,” you say. “I remember you. I remember everything. But- why was I in coma for so long? I was supposed to wake up in time to help—Where are we going? Do we have to- do we have to kill ourselves now?”
“No, we’re going to Erid,” he explains. “Rocky’s planet.” He explains how Rocky donated fuel, the Taumoeba leak, and how Grace had gone back to save him.
“Listen, I- I have a lot of questions too. I remember very little about you. Why would they send a kid?” Grace asks.
“I’m a pilot,” you explain. “I was… I went to a special trade school as a teenager. I was some sort of prodigy. At least that’s what they called me. I volunteered. You and Stratt didn’t want to put a kid on the mission initially. But then the rest of the crew were struggling to adapt to the demands of flying the Hail Mary in simulations, so Stratt convinced you I was the right person.”
“But I’m a teacher, why would I ever send a kid to their death?”
You shrug. “I’m 18. So I could consent. And you got to know me, and… I guess you thought I was good.”
He chews on his lip. “Okay. Well… definitely could’ve been helpful when we were flying in Adrian’s low orbit.”
A swell of guilt crawls up your throat. It must show on your face, because he immediately backtracks. “No- no, I didn’t mean that, I- don’t feel bad. We managed fine.”
•••
A few weeks pass. You get your strength up, and also learn how to talk to Rocky. You rely heavily on the laptop translation program, but Rocky takes to you immediately. You’re so quiet and curious—exactly the type of student Grace used to like as a teacher. “A pleasure to have in class,” as he would say in parent-teacher conferences. Rocky sees it too—he’s got some kind of protective instinct for you. He’s much nicer to you than he is to Grace, at least. Much less teasing. When you smile at his jokes, he’ll repeat them until they’re worn into the ground.
Grace doesn’t tell you about the weeks of anxiety he’d had over your sleeping body, the way he’d prayed to gods he previously didn’t believe in for you to wake up so he’d have human company. The way he’d worried when Adrian’s gravity had started to pull the ship apart during the Taumoeba sample collection, threatening your dormancy in the crew quarters. He couldn’t believe you were finally awake.
Your personality is hard for them to figure out. You want to trust them, but you’re struggling. You’re much more comfortable with Grace than with Rocky but you are still very quiet. You find their friendship, their shorthand and ease, intimidating. You feel a deep guilt that you weren’t able to help with the actual mission—you make up for it by stealing Grace’s chores and ship maintenance tasks. You barely tell them anything about yourself, afraid to get close to them just to have them taken away from you. You don’t unpack that. You’re good at not unpacking things.
You bury those feelings under your apprehension about going to Erid, which is easier to deal with. You don’t remember everything about your life before Stratt recruited you—it must be the lingering effects of the coma—but you do know that you don’t really want to go back to Earth. Something about it unsettles you. So you try to look forward to Erid.
You pretend not to notice all the ways in which Grace is trying to break you out of your shell.
•••
Rocky and Grace are in a party sort of mood today. Grace had figured out that the two of you could eat Taumoeba once the food (and eventually the coma slurry from your two dead crewmates) ran out. The starvation-before-reaching-Erid problem had been weighing on your minds and it was good to know that you’d at least survive until Erid where the scientists there could synthesize the things you need.
You’d managed a relieved smile and celebrated with them for a bit but Grace caught you trying to slink off just as he brought out the last of the vodka. “Hey, come on,” he calls out to you as you try to leave the Don’t Go Crazy Room. “Stay with us?”
“Oh, I don’t drink,” you say. There’s a crease between your eyebrows.
Grace laughs. “Not what I meant, kiddo, I wouldn’t give alcohol to an underage—well, we’re in space, so maybe it doesn’t matter…” You watch him ramble, the crease on your forehead deepening into a line.
“Please stay, question?” Rocky asks beseechingly. He taps his front-facing legs on the floor gently. Something in your face melts—he sure knows how to weaponize cuteness. You reluctantly sit down a few feet away from Grace.
After a few swigs of vodka Grace turns on the karaoke machine. He and Rocky are goofing around. They try to get you to sing but you refuse. Grace pouts. He’s a little tipsy. “Why not?” He whines. “C’mon, kid…”
You shake your head, tight-lipped. You’re stressed again. Grace chews his lip, frustrated. He’d been doing everything he could possibly think of to make you more comfortable around them.
Grace stops drinking and grab some water, thinking maybe the drinking was stressing you out. After half an hour he’s a little more sober. You do seem to relax a bit more. You make a joke about his singing that makes Rocky laugh, one of his non-dominant legs thumping on the ground. The teasing makes Grace grin so wide he’s afraid he’ll put you off. It feels like a victory—he doesn’t even care that much for his dignity.
The room goes quieter after a while, the three of you basking in each other’s presence and the success of having another problem solved.
“Hey,” Grace says after a while. “Why don’t you behave like a kid?”
Your body language stiffens slightly despite your best efforts to remain relaxed, to remain easy to be around. You shrug. “No time.”
Grace scoffs. “Not true. We have all the time in the world now.” But you know he knows what you mean. If you’re that age and already such a good pilot, you probably didn’t have much of a childhood.
Rocky pipes up: “You can relax. Grace will not hurt. Rocky will not hurt.”
You nod slightly. Grace smiles. “C’mon, kid, you gotta relax,” he says, reaching for you.
You stiffen further, cursing your own reflexes. You want to relax so badly. You’re not used to any sort of physical contact. Grace has been trying you with pats on the shoulder, ruffling your hair, and high fives the past few weeks to get you more comfortable with him. You look at him like a deer in headlights. You don’t run away. You quietly congratulate yourself for managing to be okay with how his hands get close, hesitate, and grab you.
He scoops you up and pulls you into his lap. Never mind, you think. Now I’m panicking. In for four—“Grace, what are you doing?” You ask, your voice a bit breathy and anxious. You grab firmly onto his forearms and try to pry him off. He doesn’t budge.
“Chill out, not gonna hurt you,” he says in your ear. You suppress a shiver at the gust of air over your sensitive skin. “Just trying to get you to be a kid.” With that, he digs into your sides.
You yelp, trying to twist out of his grip. “No-nonono Grace don’t do it—stop—Grace, no—“ You grit your teeth to muffle any laughter.
“You can laugh, I know you wanna,” Grace teases, crawling his big hands up a little higher onto your ribs. Rocky’s alert by now, watching carefully. He can tell Grace is not hurting you, despite the almost pained noises you’re making to avoid laughing.
You kick out against the floor, grunting in frustration. “Lehet me go!” you growl.
“Why are you so afraid to laugh?” He asks. “It’s not gonna kill ya.”
“What Grace doing, question?” Rocky finally asks.
“Torturing me!” You shriek. It’s the most emotion they’ve gotten out of you yet.
“Not torturing,” Grace corrects in his teacher voice. “Tickling. If you touch certain human body parts it causes a nervous system reaction of this, uh, funny feeling and it makes humans laugh. If they’re sensitive to it—ticklish, that is.”
“Why doing this, question?”
“Because he’s evil—“ you grumble, a choked laugh escaping as Grace squeezes a little harder.
“Because grumpy pants over here needs to lighten up,” he says, blowing a puff of air into your neck. “And it’s fun. And I’m in the mood for some fun today.”
You change tactics, curling up in his lap as much as possible to block the tickles out. Doesn’t manage to deter him, though. There’s always a spot wide open, no matter how much you defend. Grace skitters his fingers along your neck so you reach up to swat him away, letting out a few squeaky giggles, and he takes the opening to claw at that junction between your sides and ribs. Instant squirming. When he’s able to crack you open, you laugh a lot.
“Ahahaha- GRAHAHACE! It’s not FAHAHAIR- Lemme gohoho!!”
“Life’s not fair, kiddo,” Grace teases. He pokes and prods at where your arms are clamped down to protect your armpits, which gets you giddy and giggling almost as much as if he could actually get under your arms. “Especially not for people this ticklish,” Grace adds.
“Cute,” Rocky trills. “Is supposed to be cute, question?”
“Ohhh, hear that?” Grace murmurs in your ear, rubbing his stubble there while he’s at it. He earns a squeal for his efforts. “Yes, Rocky, it’s supposed to be cute. Veeeery cute. Aren’t you?”
Your face is so red. You definitely can’t handle compliments. “I’ll let you go if you promise to be a little more relaxed,” Grace says calmly, chuckling a little at the shrill shriek he hears when he claws gently at your tummy over your shirt.
“PLEHEHEASE PLEASE I’ll be MOHOHORE relahahahaxed…” Your laughter dies down as his fingers slow.
Rocky chirps happily. “Good,” Grace says.
He loosen his hold on you, but you don’t move. He rubs gently up and down your side. Your body is limp in Grace’s lap. “You okay?” He asks softly after a bit.
“Mm,” you hum noncommittally. Your eyes are closed.
Oh. You trust me, he realizes. Grace smiles to himself and he feels his eyes sting slightly with wetness. Rocky notices and mutters something about leaky humans before settling down in his ball. But Grace can tell Rocky’s happy.
You actually fall asleep like that. On Grace. He’s so touched that he has to get himself together before picking you up bridal-style and bringing you to bed. He tucks you in gently and goes off to get ready for bed as Rocky watches you sleep. Grace climbs into his bunk, wishing the ship a quiet goodnight.
He falls asleep more at ease than he has in months.
Ok I just had a thought while I was doing my hair, and it’s a little stupid but I think it’s cute..
Cause I have curly hair, I have to diffuse until dry before I go to bed, and it’s rlly late rn I should be in bed.
But just hear me out- because the diffuser is soooo loud I end up waking up the ler and after I’ve done my hair the ler t-words me for revenge for waking them up.
And for my order, I’d like to be chased down after someone finding out I was t-wordish, and be playfully t-worded to oblivion. Also With extra tummy, armpit and behind knee t-words please
Me swiping up the tumblr notification in public because if someone decides to lay their eyes on my phone for a split second they’ll suddenly know i was in a lee mood last week.
I’m going mad. I need tkls. Just a poke, or even a playful smirk just something so I can giggle about it on tumblr with my tumblr friends. Life has been so PLAIN.
Reader is a worrywart and Grace and Carl only see one solution.
———
“Grace?” I call out anxiously. “Grace, I messed up…”
The scientist pokes his head around the side of the big, makeshift model-box we had made to simulate astrophage migration to Venus. In my periphery I see Carl become alert at my anxious tone. “What’s wrong?” Grace asks.
“I- I lost the astrophage,” I say, chewing my lip.
“What do you mean, you lost it?” He asks.
“Like, they moved off the slide. They’re somewhere in the box.” My lip starts to bleed.
“Okay… okay,” Grace says slowly. “Okay. Well. We still have them inside the box. So.”
“Could be worse?” Carl pipes up.
“I’m so sorry,” I stammer.
“Stop apologizing,” Grace says absentmindedly. “How do we fix it…maybe… put the box in a box?”
I look around. “What? What bigger box—“
Carl points silently at the lab within the warehouse.
Grace snaps his fingers. “Bingo.”
It’s a whole operation to get the astrophage out. Carl and the other security people help us block all light out of the lab. Then we put our box simulation inside the lab. Grace goes in and Carl and I hold our breaths as Grace retrieves the astrophage. The tang of iron floods my tongue as I worry my bottom lip even further between my teeth.
Carl and Grace get swept up in the excitement of the moment as we discover that the astrophage successfully bred inside the container. I stand there, the activity and excitement swirling around me as Stratt’s people come to collect us. Grace, Carl, and I are shuttled through about 15 modes of transportation to get to Stratt’s Vat, a giant carrier ship swarming with scientific activity.
Later in the day, Grace and I finally have a moment of peace in our new lab. Stratt had sort of kidnapped us permanently for Project Hail Mary. It’s a lot to take in. I’d moved on from chewing my lip to picking at my cuticles, which are now a bloody mess.
Carl is the first to notice. I’m watching them move a piece of heavy lab equipment, and when they’re done, Carl forcibly removes my hand from the other to stop me from picking.
“What’s up with you?” Carl asks. Grace stops what he’s doing.
“I’m fine,” I say. It’s not very convincing.
Grace walks over and puts his hands on his hips. He looks at me over the rims of his glasses. “Tell us what’s wrong.”
“I- it’s nothing. I just feel underqualified.”
Grace gives me a skeptical look. “I’m serious. It’s been so… busy on this carrier. Everyone seems to know who they are and where they’re going. And- and I made that stupid mistake with the astrophage earlier…”
“Your stupid mistake helped us figure out how astrophage, y’know, do the deed,” Grace says. I can tell he’s trying to make me smile. “And it wasn’t just you who didn’t realize they would move off the slide.”
“Okay,” I say, unconvinced.
We’re at an impasse. Grace stares at me, eyebrows raised, as if calling me out on my bullshit. Carl looks between us, eyeing us warily. It’d be comical if I wasn’t being scrutinized.
“Listen,” Carl says, breaking the silence. Grace’s and my head swivels to him. “This carrier is full of very confident, very arrogant, and very smart people. You two are the most humble smart people on this ship.” Then, to me: “Will you stop being stupid and feel competent already?”
I’m slightly shocked. I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard Carl speak that many words to me before. “I- okay,” I stammer, a little more convincingly this time.
“Seriously? All it takes is Carl?” Grace mumbles. Carl and I both chuckle slightly at his petty complaint. Carl starts to turn away, seeing his mission as complete, but Grace speaks up first.
“Nuh uh. We’re not done here until you’re smiling. Or laughing. Preferably both.”
I let out a slight huff of a laugh. “What?”
Grace opens his arms wide as if inviting me for a hug. Carl’s mouth ticks up at one corner in a slight smile. I fidget, stammer out a few confused mutterings, and then step closer for a hug. I grunt softly as Grace squeezes me tightly.
Just as I start to relax into the hug, I feel something prodding up my sides. Fingers. Definitely fingers. “Grace—“
“Shh,” he shushes me. “Resistance is futile.”
“What- nohoho- Grace. C’mon—“ I whine, struggling slightly. Damn him and his stupid biceps.
“Wait, are you tickling—“ Carl cuts in, but he’s interrupted by a loud squeal that erupts from my mouth before I can stop it.
“Oh, geez, I got a squirmer on my hands,” Grace teases nonchalantly. I feel my world tilt as he pulls me down with him onto a bench.
“Sure seems like it,” Carl remarks, barely able to disguise the humor in his voice.
“Let me gohoho…Grace, I’m FIHIHINE, I don’t need thihihis—“
Grace doesn’t reply. He just flips me around to sit properly in his lap—how is he maneuvering me so easily?—which exposes a lot more of my tickle spots. I kick out as he digs into my tummy with the hand that’s not holding me in place. Loud cackles fill the lab.
I feel his chin dig into my trapezius so he can murmur in my ear, “Is this helping? Are you feeling better? Hmm?”
I ignore him. “Carl- hehehelp me, God damn it!!” I shriek.
Carl shrugs. “Sorry, kid. I think the tickle monster’s got you.”
“What- nohoho don’t say it like thahahat…”
“Like what?” Grace asks, slipping his hands under my shirt so he can scribble gently at my ribs. “The tickle monster?” I cover my face in embarrassment. “Oh, you don’t like that, huh?” He asks, and I can hear the grin in his voice.
I shake my head desperately. “Aww,” he coos. “That’s too bad, because the tickle monster’s here… and he’s gonna get you…”
“No!!” I protest. My face is so red. I nearly scream when Grace pinches and massages at the muscle that connects my ribs and armpits—he knows human anatomy very well, if I’d ever doubted that. Carl laughs openly at Grace’s shenanigans.
“Tickle monster is feeling hungry,” Grace declares before he sticks his face in my neck and nuzzles. “FUCK!!” I squeal, pushing at his head and twisting in all sorts of directions to try to free myself. “No- nohohot hungry- GETOUTGETOUT!! GRAHAHACE- there’s literally Skihihitlles over thehehere! Stohohop…”
Carl’s smiling ear to ear at the display. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone so ticklish,” he muses, stepping closer. My eyes are squeezed shut in laughter so I have no warning for when his hand makes a claw and squeezes right into the middle of my belly. I struggle a little harder, but between the two men, I have no hope of getting out. I can tell they’re both being gentle with me, though, which only makes my cheeks redder.
“Pleasepleaseplease guys I cahahan’t…” I whine.
Grace moves his hands up to my armpits, wiggling his fingers gently enough to be maddening but not to make me scream. “Can’t what?” He asks.
“But isn’t this so much fun? I’m having a great time,” Grace teases. “Tickle monster hasn’t had his fill yet.”
“Tickle monster is gonna actually kill me!” I outburst.
Both Grace and Carl laugh at that. Carl stops completely and Grace keeps me on his lap, fingers in my armpits, until I can breathe normally again. When he stops and lets me go, I’m so embarrassed I don’t know what to do with myself. I go straight to the mess of experiments we’d left earlier and start cleaning up, looking to keep my hands busy.
“Heeey, don’t be like that,” Grace says, trailing after me. He leans against the table next to me. “The point was not to embarrass you.”
I don’t reply. “C’mon,” Grace says, poking me a few times. He looks gratified when I squirm for him. “It was cute. Stop stressing.”
I give him a flustered look. “Cute?”
“Yes,” Grace says. He opens his mouth again as if to say something more, but decides against it. Probably to avoid embarrassing me more.
“Okay,” I finally say, no less embarrassed. “I’ll stop stressing.”
Carl and Grace return to moving lab machinery around. I catch bits of their conversation:
