chocolate haul

anonymous asked:

Humans are weird, for that joke about interacting with statues? Like if there is a statue of a person, people will always go pose with it, or fist bump it, or whatever? Or it's funny to put a hat on the statue? You know?

ooooh my gosh I know exactly what you mean! Like when people will take pictures with the leaning tower and pretend to be holding it up! Yeah I getcha. 

The human students aboard the Education Vessel Athena had a very important tradition whenever they traveled to a new planet to learn more about the culture of the inhabitants. 

It was less of a tradition and more like a competition among the human students really. 

‘Who can take the best posed picture’

Every time a new school year started with new students, the non humans always floundered whenever the humans would excitedly point at a monument or structure in the distance and pull out their tablet devices. Why were the humans so excited about a particular statue that had no meaning to the humans other than it’s shape or color?

“Hey Grackar come here!” One human, Tammy, yelled to the Florpian as their class took a break from the touring lecture they were being subjected to while visiting the planet Zanderklees. It was a lovely planet with a long history of giving their excess to their neighboring planets. The planet was so rich, both economically and ecologically, that many warring aliens had attempted time and time again to invade it only for the Zanderkees beings to pull out hidden technology and blast the invaders out of their orbit. 

Gracker slowly approached the human Tammy as she continued to wave xem over. 

“Good! Ok I need you to stand here and do this pose.” Tammy wend down on one knee and then held both arms up and out to one side, her head turned into the crook of one elbow. 

Gracker didn’t understand, but xey did as asked. 

“Perfect! Oh my gosh Tammy this is gonna be perfect!” Ben said as he quickly started taking pictures with his tablet. 

When he was done Ben quickly took the tablet over to Gracker and Tammy. At first Gracker didn’t understand what it was xe was looking at, but then it dawned on xem. Where the tip of xis appendage and Tammy’s fingers met the statue behind them looked like it was stepping up onto their touching digits. Their appendages blocked out the stone steps that the statue was actually standing on. 

“We’re going to win the contest for sure with this!” Tammy cooed in glee. “Hey Gracker, you like chocolate right?”

Gracker had tried chocolate once and it had been an interesting confection so xe wasn’t adverse with trying more. So Xe nodded. 

“Great! When we win we’ll split the chocolate haul three ways.” The humans were pleased with with themselves and explained the entire thing to the Florpian. It was decided, while the tour resumed, that Gracker would join the two humans from then on whenever they would partake in the human tradition of Picture Posing. 

smolgay-bean  asked:

Before your ask box closes i FINALLY thought of a prompt: the dads with a ticklish s/o :D (btw your writing is amazing!)

I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to get to your prompt! Hopefully, now that we are four people instead of just me, things will go faster and you won’t have to wait as long! - Mod Mare

🥃 “Want another round?” At the sound of Robert’s voice you turn your head towards him. It’s strange how a few months can change a man so much, but Robert proves it’s possible. He got professional help, picked up a hobby other than drinking and cryptid hunting and actually started taking a shower every other day instead of once a week. His drinking got better, too, decreased to a normal and acceptable level. He still can drink you under the table though. The empty glass in front of you was only your third drink, however, so you slide it over to where he’s standing in front of the table. He dips his head and disappears for a moment, returning with two filled glasses. You scoot to the side to let him slide into the booth again. Automatically, he throws his arm across your shoulders, pulling you close until your sides are pressed together. Like always whenever he touches you, you blush. Though he told you he wants to take things slow and wait until he’s ready, you two still behave like a couple in public, only with less kissing and hand-holding. “Thanks, Bobert,” you say raising your glass in a toast. He rolls his eyes. “I told you not to call me that,” he grunts and drops his arm again. In doing so, his fingers brush over your nape, right where the fine hair thickens following your spine up your skull. You can’t help the shudder that goes down your back and lean away from the touch. Robert frowns, then his expression turns downright evil. “Oh, someone’s ticklish, huh?” You glare at him and move to the edge of the booth. He holds up his hands in a placating gesture which is destroyed by his smirk. “Scout’s honour. I won’t tickle you… for now.”

🍸”Help!” You try to wrench Christie off of you, but Christian holds down your arm with surprising strength for a seven-year-old child. To be fair, you’re holding back, not wanting to accidentally hurt them, but the longer this goes on, the harder it is to control your body. “Help!” Joseph finally puts down his book and takes in the scene in front of him with a grin. When Christian asked you whether you’re ticklish, you should have known the twins had a plan. You wonder if telling the truth would have saved you, but figure the outcome would have been the same, no matter what you said. Christie manages to pull your shirt free and slips her hands under the fabric. A very manly yelp escapes your lips as she begins tickling your sides. Now that they can reach your skin, the torture is even worse, your end is near. Your vision is blurred because of the tears and you’re laughing so hard you can’t beg for help any longer, but Joseph wouldn’t have saved you anyway. With a chuckle, your boyfriend sits down on the ground next to you. “Looks like the valiant knight has been slain by the Spider Prince and Princess! Surrender and your misery shall end!” You try to squirm out of Christie’s reach, but Christian moves over, effectively trapping you. Gasping for breath, you look at Chris, but he’s too busy playing on his Gameboy. Faced with inevitable defeat, you still put on your most determined expression. “Never, Spider King!” Joseph leans over you and grins. “Then suffer!” At the feeling of his fingers expertly squishing your sides, you scream. It’s a wonder none of the neighbours call the police.

☕ The beeping of Mat’s phone alarm slowly wrests you from the realm of dreams and thrusts you back into the waking world. You groan and pull the nearest object over your head, which probably is a pillow, not that you care. Next to you, Mat chuckles and moves, the bed shifting along with him. His weight leaves the mattress and you hear him walk, the creak of the door telling you he’s gone to the bathroom. One of the major disadvantages of dating a barista: He always gets up far too early. It’s probably only four or five am, far, far too early for any human being to be awake, and yet you enjoy cuddling with him far too much to sleep in your own bed. The pillow on your head is suddenly pulled off, exposing you to the light. You groan and cover your face with your hands but Mat’s having none of it, gently prying them off again. Once your eyes adjust to the brightness, you see him leaning over you, dreads hanging down. One lock brushes over your neck, making you squirm away, giggling. Mat raises an eyebrow. “Are you ticklish?” You vehemently shake your head. Mat copies the movement, but a lot slower – it causes his dreadlocks to glide over your skin. A shudder runs down your spine. You try to escape, but Mat’s weight on top of you keeps you trapped in place. Mat chuckles and does it again. “You are.” You can’t speak, trying to catch your breath between giggles, but you manage a nod. You keep your chin pressed to your chest and pull your shoulders up as far as they go so he can’t tickle you anymore. “Are you going to stay like this forever now?” You grunt. Mat kisses your forehead and climbs off the bed again. “See you later, turtle.”

🌹 Damien is intelligent, charming and a gentleman through and through. That’s where the problem lies. Because as much as you love it when he wraps an arm around your waist or puts a hand on the small of your back, it’s also maddening as hell. So far, you managed to not give away what you consider your greatest weakness, but only barely. Lucien, you’re sure, already knows what’s up; he keeps on shooting you unamused looks whenever you have to bite your tongue so you don’t start giggling when Damien does it again. It’s only a matter of time until Damien finds out. You assumed it would be during sex or another activity with equal amounts of touching. You did not take Damien’s interest in yoga into account. That’s a battle you cannot win. Seeing him go from one painful-looking pose into the next with ease reminds you of your aching, ageing bones. You barely manage to do the ‘low lunge’ without your back screaming in protest and Damien makes it look so easy. “Here, let me help you.” Damien steps behind you and puts a hand on your shoulder. The other slides down your spine, applying the faintest of pressure. You manage to hold in, until Damien’s hand settles at the curve where your spine meets your ass. You splutter, then laugh and, in your attempt to squirm out of reach, you fall forward on your face. “Oh my! Are you okay, Y/N? I didn’t mean to push so hard—“ He tries to help you up again, but that just makes you laugh harder. Damien lies down next to you and chuckles. “You’re ticklish?”
“I’m neither going to confirm nor deny that.” He reaches forward and brushes his finger over your side. With a yelp you scoot backwards and glare.

🎣 Right after Amanda, the invention of chocolate burgers and Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers, cuddling with Brian is the best thing in the world. You love putting your head on his chest and wrapping your arms around his torso; you love giving him belly rubs, making him laugh so much it vibrates through his whole body. It’s even better when you both are tired from a long day at work and flop down on the couch right after dinner. You’re not always ‘on top’, so to speak. Sometimes, like it is right now, Brian’s head lies comfortably on your chest as you hold him close to you. You move your hands to his hips, starting to draw silly patterns into his skin with your thumb. Brian giggles against your shirt and squirms away from your touch. You pause. “You can’t be serious. You’re ticklish?” It’s like Christmas and Thanksgiving in one. Brian pouts. “Am not.” You wiggle your fingers against his waist, drawing a snort from Brian as he tries not to laugh. “Are too.”
“I bet you are ticklish. Maybe here?” He pokes your side; you raise your eyebrow. He tries under your arms, but you don’t even twitch. “I think you’re trying to deflect from yourself, dear.” Brian smirks and scoots upwards. “I’m going to find your weakness, Y/N, mark my—“ He blinks in surprise at your sudden, startled laugh and leans back. You cover your mouth with your hand and duck your head, but not fast enough. Realisation dawns in his face. Brian grins and dives back in, rubbing his beard all over your neck. “N-no!” You whine. You try to escape but he’s stronger and pins you down, mercilessly assaulting your neck until you’re a laughing, sobbing mess.

👟 It rarely happens, but sometimes, you and Craig end up arguing. Most often, it’s about silly things, like what you should have for dinner or who was supposed to do the laundry but didn’t. You never got loud, there was no throwing dishes involved because Craig had a master’s degree in communication, but there always was reconciliation sex afterwards. That’s the only thing stopping you from storming out of the room right now because you’ve been at it for an hour and still haven’t made any progress. Well, not the only thing, but the most convincing. “Craig, their bodies won’t decay just because they had ice cream once.” It feels like you’re stuck in a continuous loop; you must have said that sentence 300 times by now. “Once? Bro, you take them out to ice cream after every major game which, to you, is basically every game!”
“It’s ice cream! They’re kids! Let them live a little! It’s only frozen milk, how bad can that be? No, I don’t want to hear the recipe again. I heard it five times already.” Craig furrows his brows. You can tell he’s going through your conversation so far, counting each time to prove you wrong. His shoulders deflate as he counts to five. With silence descending on you like a heavy quill blanket, Craig unexpectedly reaches out and pokes your side. You flinch away. “Bro, what—“ He does it again. Your back hits the wall, trapping you in a corner. Craig wiggles his fingers. “You can’t just end the argument by tick— NO!” Craig wraps an arm around your waist; his free hand mercilessly tickles you in all your sensitive spots. You gasp for air and try to free yourself, limbs flailing helplessly. Somehow, you manage to kick Craig in the knee, sending you both toppling to the floor. Your eyes meet his and then you’re both breaking into laughter.

📖 “Now, in theory, were this a match I would throw you right over my head.” From where you are slung across Hugo’s shoulder, all you can do is hum. You definitely do not want him to throw you down, but you don’t think he’s going to. That would definitely put a hamper on later activities. After your first physical brush with wrestling which led to Hugo and you making out, him suggesting to show you more moves became a pick-up line which never fails to work. With how close and personal you always got, it’s a downright miracle he never noticed how ticklish you are. Maybe he’s just never touched you in the right spots before or if he did, you were already breathless so it didn’t matter much why you gasped for air to begin with. “Careful now, I’m going to let you down again.” Slowly, Hugo shifts his hands from your knee-pits upwards while bringing you back into an upwards position. When his hands brush over your lower back, where your shirt had ridden up due to the athletics you’ve been doing, a startled laugh escapes your mouth. Hugo pauses; you can’t see his expression but you imagine him frowning. He brushes over your back again. Again, you laugh. “Well, well, well. I didn’t know you were ticklish.” Without any obvious effort whatsoever, Hugo lies you down on the bed. You do not like the smirk on his face. “I’m not?” Hugo raises an eyebrow. “Okay, I am. A little.” His other eyebrow joins the conversation. “Fine, a lot.” Hugo folds his glasses and puts them aside. “You know, I’m a fan of show, don’t tell.” You only get what he means when his hands are suddenly all over you. You try to scramble away but there’s no escaping JDSlamminger.