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simslegacy5083 · 28 days

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NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 66: An Anchor Square Adventure

The Story of a Family

When Luigi told Noemi about his end of term success and that he was hoping to celebrate it with her, she jumped into researching options. Shortly afterward, he received an excited text exclaiming that she had found “a very special, absolutely perfect, event!”

In no time the couple was exiting the sunny San Sequoia teleport station hand in hand, ready to celebrate Anchor Day with the locals. Luigi didn’t know much about the festival, but this trip was already a pure win in his book for allowing him to leave the dry winter weather behind.

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Passing food stalls, craft stations, and games all related to the city’s long fishing and canning history, they ran across an unexpectedly familiar vendor.

It was Beau, running a stand with a sim Luigi assumed had to be his wife, Breanne. Her classy green candle was one of his favorite decorations and receiving it had marked a turning point in his relationship with her husband, so Luigi was happy to buy a few more.

While Noemi chatted with Breanne about candle making, he tried to get Beau to join the “Incredible Sports” gaming competition starting up shortly. Sadly, his teammate was committed to table duty, but he promised to give “His Highness” a virtual butt kicking some other day.

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Noemi shared Luigi’s love of programming, but she preferred robotics over video games and told him she’d cheer him on rather than compete.

Fortunately, there was a stand selling books nearby to supplement the “excitement” of watching him bounce in place. She found an intriguing sci-fi tale (that she was sure Luigi would be asking to borrow soon) about a sim trying to fix the future by traversing alternate past timelines and got a ways through it before he was finished.

The first-place prize alluded the gamer once more, but he was still quite happy with his 2nd place win given his unfamiliarity with the game, especially when he realized he’d also just maxed his video gaming skill. Noemi offered him a congratulatory high five for his double gaming success.

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Still high on his win Luigi simply had to try his hand at the wheel of fortune next, hoping to win Noemi a fun prize as a thank you for her great idea.

It seemed that, for now, his luck had been spent. The wheel gave him nothing, but Noemi’s “consolation prize” was sweet indeed. He reflected that the morning had just begun, and this was already a great date. He and Noemi were amazing as a couple, if only he could convince her to commit!

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By that time Luigi’s stomach was starting to rumble. When he told Noemi he was ready to grab a bite her eyes lit up with delight.

She knew Luigi hated paying for meals that never lived up to the home cooking he’d been raised on as a child, but she’d read that one of the best chefs in the city had setup his booth at the festival. Luigi was skeptical, as always, but dutifully followed her to the waffle stand.

He had to admit that the wide array of waffles smelled delicious. Mouths watering, they both decided to try the one topped with glazed apples and bacon. Settling nearby to dig in, Luigi literally giggled in happy surprise at the first bite, exclaiming “these are amazing!”

Noemi returned his smile, promising to grab the proprietor’s business card on the way out so they could revisit his fine menu again some other time.

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After their meal they took a silly photo to remember the day by. They’d done all they wanted at the fair, but Noemi had one final trick up her sleeve.

She led Luigi across the square to the movie theater. They weren’t showing any sci-fi or fantasy flicks just then, but they were offering the movie adaptation of the romance novel Luigi had purchased for them at Winterfest. They’d both loved it, and he was excited to see it on the big screen.

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Exiting a couple hours later Luigi groaned. They’d left out his favorite parts and he thought the leads had done a terrible job with the main love story.

Noemi completely disagreed and said so, but rather than argue about it she coyly suggested that if he hadn’t liked the directors take on the story maybe they could do a better job playacting it themselves back at her place? Luigi very much liked the sound of THAT!

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Heading back into the city they made good on Noemi’s suggestion, having a predictably fantastic time while they were at it.

As they lay in bed afterwards, content, Luigi reflected on how easy it had always been to be with Noemi. He was so grateful that she’d come into his life and even more so that they’d found their way back to their current relationship status after deciding to be “just friends”.

He refused to dwell on her unwillingness tell his family about them. It was good enough for now, he decided, to focus on enjoying their time together.

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Anchor Day isn't a real game festival. I created it using the TOOL mod. I was really happy with how it turned out.

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View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

#sims 4 #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims4 #sims 4 nsb #sims 4 not so berry #sims4nsbstraud #sims 4 let's play #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 lets play

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pumpkinpot · 2 years

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AN: This is so rushed and like most the plot doesn’t matter??? I just wanted to lay the foundation for fun poly fics in the future. Bottom line: Grell x readerx Sebastian.

cw: coercion, dubcon?, threats, Grell being possessive, Sebastian being possessive.

I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while now, but can you imagine- living in the Phantomhive house- it doesn’t particularly matter why, that’s more up to you, but you’ve been there for a minute right? (this could be a continuation of the Sebastian getting Jealous of Pluto Drabble here but is also a stand alone.)

You’ve acclimated to the bustle of the house. No longer needing directions to get to different spaces, and of course, learning when the routes of the staff were.(as to not get in the way.)

For instance in the next ten seconds Sebastian would be turning the corner with the tea caddy. prepped with afternoon tea and sconez for Ciels business hour break.

You could hear Ciel grumbling from behind the door about where his tea was despite Sebastian never being late. You stepped off to the side holding a book over your chest as he passes.

This was your routine too. At the time Ciel would be up and about the house, you would disappear to some far corner by yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy Ciel’s company, but you can only throw a chess game so many times for a mans ego before it becomes- waring.

Per usual Sebastian slips a cup of cocoa black tea into your hand as he resumes on his way. He’d done so since Soma and Agni had gifted the tea to Ciel who had decidedly, not liked it. The words he'd used if not you weren't mistaken were "childish". Now its your tea and yours alone.

You nodded a thanks before turning the corner he just came. today was a perfect grey day with a promise of rain so you headed for a balcony to enjoy a few moments outside before the inevitable seclusion.

Sebastian didn't hate rain, he hated cleaning up after it.

The onset of autumn wasn’t in the air just yet, but the sun was disappearing a moment sooner than it had before. you took to spending the last breath of summer outside as often as possible.

Just barely had your mind properly slipped between the pages of your novel when the the turn of a door knob pulls you away. Sebastian clicks the door closed behind him looking up at the sky. “you’ll get wet if you’re out here long M’lady, shouldn’t you like to read inside.”

“probably,” you said pulling as much of the scented air into your lungs as you could. “but for now I am contented here. Will you join me?”

there is a hesitation in his agreement. Like he should be finding something more valuable to do with his time. But he lifts your legs sitting beneath the bend in your knees.

It had taken quite a lot of convincing to get him to display this level of intimacy with you. Originally you’d taken this position with Pluto and that didn’t sit right in Sebastian's chest at all. it was only then that he agreed to it, but never when anyone was around to see.

“what are you reading today?” he asks.

It doesn’t take much encouragement for you to spur into a tangent about the world you’ve imagined past the authors pros. This was always the formula. He’d ask for a synopsis of the book you read then wait.

The tips of his gloved fingers stroke your arm as you go on. Excited to speculate your favorite characters preferred meals, and what they were like when they weren’t participating in plots. Your words come out in commas and parentheses until something catches the corner of your eye and you stop.

Deep green eyes of a woman decorated in a vibrant red suit sits deathly still across the patio table.

Instinctively you pull your legs off Sebastian closing the novel over your finger. you wait for someone to say something, but when you look over at Sebastian he’s not pulled the service ready prosoma over his features. Instead he opts for flat brows and clenched jaw. Was he angry with you for not noticing the person sooner?

“Grell,” he sneers, “I assume there is a reason for your presence?”

The woman has yet to move, eyes unblinking and trained souly on you. Your body prepares to duck if she lunges for you but she doesn't move. At all.

“Grell,” Sebastian demanded, voice deepening.

The corner of Grells lips twitched into a sharp grin. “We’ll get to that Bassy, for now I need to finish planning this humans tragic end. I’m thinking something gothic, as she does seem to have some wild ideations-”

She’d yet to pull her eyes away and despite Sebastian straightening his coat taut against his body. “Grell, my patience is thin. Why are you here?”

"You've been trying to find someone, for a cased I'd think," she says cooly, "I happen to be looking for something they possess. WIlliam told me to let you fail and find it myself, but I could never leave my Bassy without a bone..”

His face stays fixed and his tone even but it was the slight rigidity in his movements that told you something was wrong. He’d seemed annoyed with Ciel plenty of times but now, here with you, getting caught by someone obviously of consequence.

You’d be lucky if he’d ever be so close with you again

Without saying goodbye he leads Grell off the balcony. She spares you a last look over before stepping possessively closer to Sebastian.

You’d asked him early on about a lover tucked away somewhere, but he’d only laughed and said his only true love was hunger. You wondered if that odd answer had anything to do with this woman.

*Later that night*

You’d been asked, with no details to accompany Ciel, Sebastian and Grell to the city. They’d proved you with in-depth questions about the book you were reading earlier, and where you’d acquired it. Once answered they mumbled amongst themselves just quiet enough that you couldn’t hear.

When the carriage finally stopped the three got out Sebastian helping you down. “which store was it?” Ciel demands.

You point down the alley to a corner shop. The windows are still wholly lit despite the late night. Other books and trinkets crowd the window like they were in line waiting for someone to pick them out.

“Did the keeper say anything to you when you bought the book?”

“He said that the things in his shop found who they were meant to. He never made me pay, only asked that tell others about his shop and where to find him.”

Sebastian and Ciel share a look while Grell looks bored of the entire ordeal.

“We’ll pay him a visit at once, thank you y/n,” Sebastain says, “the carriage can take you back to the manor.”

Grell pauses in front of them. “hang on, she is just as involved now, she should-”

"are you doubting my ability?” Sebastian challenges.

Grell slaps a hand over her mouth with a thick sigh. “Bassy, I would never. Only that the shopkeeper might be more forthcoming with information if he sees a familiar face. He did want her to bring in customers after all.”

Sebastian is about to rebuttal, but Ciel speaks first. “As much as I hate to agree with the reaper, the point is true-”

“My lord I can-”

“don’t argue Sebastian. Y/n, let’s go.”

With hesitance you trudge at Sebastians side. The series of events that transpire go as follows, much to your confusion. The shop keep sees you with delight as the others crowd in followed by Ciel. They bombard him about stolen books, which results in- it couldn’t really be considered a fight, the shopkeeper pulled a knife and Sebastian broke his arm. Now the shopkeeper is running through the maze of downtown, in the dark.

The four of you stop at the fountain looking down the endless number of streets he could have dipped into.

“Sebastian with me, Grell, Y/n go south-”

Grell inhales. “What a lucky girl I am to be paired with a fragile little-” the last half of her sentence doesn’t make it out of her mouth before Sebastian drags her to him by the wrist.

His eyes bleed into deep bloody pools when he speaks, “It isn’t uncommon for my appetite to wonder, if any hair on her head is out of place when I get back, I will take my time pulling you apart.”

Grells cheeks turn a deep red as she turns away- like he didn’t just threaten to eat her??? “Oh, Bassy don’t tease me-”

“Sebastian now!” Ciel yells still running down the alley.

Sebastian pulls his eyes to you for only a moment before disappearing into the dark.

You keep the momentum of the moment turning down the opposite way. “let’s go check the-”

Grell watches to pair disappear before knocking you against the nearest wall. She pins your ribcage to the cobblestone wall with one arm, the other wrapped rather firmly around your throat.

“I may have found you cute in another life, but,” she glides her thumb up your trachea. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

You can taste blood between your teeth as you flash a toothy smile. “You think I’m cute?”

She pulls out a thin knife from the breast pocket of her suit dragging it down her tongue. “yes, but you’d look much better in red.”

the metal is cold as she trails it down your neck across the back of her hand, finding your heart. She angels it between the bones of your corset. "I'm not meant to kill your kind, but it's not the first time I've asked forgiveness. I'm sure William will understand."

Fabric rips in your ears and you press your back as tightly as possible against the cobblestone wall.

“I don’t know why I’ve caught his attention,” you rush out in a single breath, “but the truth of the matter, as it stands is-” you muster every bit of yourself bringing your eyes to hers. “you kill me now, his affection will never find you.”

“oh please, I give it a year before he finds a new meal.”

you hadn’t the time to dwell on the words before Grell loosened the pressure on your neck, just enough for small intakes of air. “though he has been rather selfish recently. He finds all these pretty things to keep for himself, never once offering to share,” she looks at you with a pouty lip. “you know what they say about crows and shiny objects.”

pointy teeth puzzle into a bright smile. “I think I’ll have you.” she says decidedly.

“Pardon?”

Her nails press valleys into the sides of your neck as she brings your lips inches from hers. “we will still be here long after you are rotting in the ground. Plenty of time to make him mine and mine alone, but for now-” She pry's your thighs apart with her knee, sitting you up onto your tippy toes. “I like your eyes. Keep them on me for this.”

The hand once around your throat pinches your jaw forcing you to open your mouth. She glides her warm tongue across your lip, dipping into you. She finds your tongue sucking it between her teeth.

your breath comes out hot, fogging up her glasses. Her free hand laces through yours.

To any onlookers it would seem a couple just lost in embrace in the cool of night, but no one could see the battle in your mind. Between your palms you could still feel the knife she’d held to you moments ago. But her lips were so soft-

Hesitantly you stop fighting her, nuzzling your nose into hers. She grinds her hips into yours. At this rate she was sure to pull your soul from between your teeth.

She slows the kiss with a sigh, breaking from you, but not yet pulling your bodies apart. She kisses you one more time nipping your lip enough to leave a tiny cut. She smears the blood, pulling away with a smile. “Better.”

By the time she’s backed away Sebastian and Ciel return, shopkeeper in hand. Ciel focuses on the shopkeeper while Sebastian's eyes shift between you and Grell. “what’s happened?”

Grell pulls herself around you. “A girl never kisses and tells Bassy.”

Truthfully, you’d never asked Sebastian why he spent his time with you. From the moment you’d arrived at Phantomhive he’d lowered his tone and noted whenever you were around with soft glances. Maybe you’d never asked because the thing about knowing was- you’d already imagined an ideal to his advances. if his answer didn’t match, it had the power to ruin you.

Grell giggles into your ear as Sebastian takes hold of their shopkeeper. “I am going to ruin you,” she whispered in your ear. “he will be mine, but not before you are.”

#black butler x reader #sebastian x y/n #sebastian michaelis #sebastian x reader #grell x reader #kuroshitsuji grell #grell sutcliff #yandere grell #sebastian black butler

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arkon-z · 9 months

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Inaugural Aroaceptember post!

Aroaces are very underrepresented in media. If I were to only feature aroace characters in these posts, I'd run out of them before the month was over. So instead, I'm going to highlight my favorite friendships that I see in different works. Starting with:

Harry Kim and B'Elanna Torres from Star Trek: Voyager!

Harry and B'Elanna are the most unlikely of friends. Harry is a young, green Ensign, fresh out of the Academy, while B'Elanna's attitude and disdain for the rules got her expelled from it in her third year. They don't seem like they have anything in common, except that they both woke up as experiments for the Caretaker.

They had to rely on each other to survive, and have been friends ever since. Over the entire run of the show, they stayed close. I'm sure there are shippers out there who put them together*, but that was never their dynamic in the show. B'Elanna had Tom, and Harry had his fiance back in the Alpha Quadrant, so canonically, they weren't available to be partners for each other, but that's fine. That's not their relationship.

(This is an unclear pic, but they're hugging. "Muse"- Season 6)

They care deeply about each other, and that's all. B'Elanna teases Harry for being uptight or falling for the alien girl of the week, and Harry takes it in stride. In turn, he respects her as person and as an engineer, and sees her for who she is, and not what people assume she's like. She doesn't have to be defensive around him; she can be herself. She has a level of trust with him that she doesn't quite have with Tom, and that's saying something.

Man, just writing this up made me realize how much I love this dynamic. I always knew I liked it, but now that I managed to put it into words, I finally understand why I like it so much.

So there you have it: Harry and B'Elanna, Space Besties. Kudos for the show writers for treating their friendship with the respect it deserves.

*I read part of a story for a licensed novel AU where B'Elanna and Harry got together after Tom was killed in an attack and it was so jarring and out of character that I couldn't stop thinking about it for almost a week. I never finished that novel.

#harry kim #b'elanna torres #star trek voyager #aroaceptember #bestiefest

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drakkensystem · 3 months

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Ok there's something I need to get off my chest.

Caveat that I assume the assholes I'm about to complain about are just a vocal minority, but when that vocal minority reduces my enjoyment of some kind of media and worsens my mental health so they can feel smug, I think I'm justified in complaining about it.

So I saw a Tumblr post recently where someone (derisively) told someone else to "just pick up a comic" if they wanted to know more about DC canon and while there was a brilliant reply mentioning how convoluted DC canon is, I want to highlight my perspective.

Hi, I have aphantasia and a visual processing disorder (also ADHD and autism). This means that my visual perception of my surroundings is absolute dog shit, even when I am actively trying. I went to the same restaurant one to two times a week for years before noticing that one of their major pieces of decor even existed. I have a hoodie that, if I didn't know better, I would think my sibling was gaslighting me about it being green and not blue (yes, I have taken colorblindness tests, both online and officially in an appointment- no, I'm not colorblind). I always watch shows with captions bc my special interest in language means my eyes will automatically track the words, making it more likely that I'll actually see what's happening on the screen. Even so, I often pause and rewind (when I can) so that I can actually see what happened. For a few months, I had migraines so bad that I spent the majority of my time awake blindfolded, but I found that I used my vision so little when navigating around my own house, it wasn't very much more difficult while blindfolded- basically only things that moved gave me trouble.

One of the other consequences is that I find reading comics very difficult. I often compare me reading comics to someone with dyslexia reading regular books: yes, I can do it, but it takes me so much more effort that it's hard for me to enjoy it. (I just happened to be lucky enough that no one pins my academic success on my ability to read comics, unlike dyslexics and traditional books).

There are exactly four comics which I have managed to finish a major chunk of, all of them were franchises I was already hyperfixated on before reading, and the one that isn't also a long term special interest happened in a time in my life that I was incredibly lonely and bored. They were all also manga- aka, significantly easier for me to read bc they are in black and white (and thus there is less visual detail to take in).

So when I say that reading comics is hard for me, I mean it is hard.

And to hear comics fans say things like "just pick up a comic, bruh" (a vocal minority, but they do exist)- it disheartens me so much. I would love to experience those stories for myself. But when I have to re-read each page 3-5 times in order to actually process anything beyond the words on the page, it's too exhausting (note: manga normally only takes me 1-3 re-reads per page).

It is so extremely frustrating for people to act like reading comics is so easy when it's something that I legitimately struggle with. Reading a traditional book? I can read a 650 page novel in less than 3 days. But comic books? I struggled to get through the first 20 pages of a compendium a friend let me borrow once before giving up and returning it.

So next time you feel like deriding someone for engaging more with an adaptation than the original, remember that there is no kind of media that is universally equally accessible. They might just find it significantly easier (and therefore more enjoyable) to engage with the adaptation.

#idk what to tag this as #rambles #ig??? idk #soap box #lectures no one asked for #comics #booklr #dc comics #manga #visual processing disorder #aphantasia

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angelfoodcake222 · 1 year

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The Lesser of Two Evils [pt. 2/?]

HERE IT IS! I hope you enjoy this & please reblog. Thank you!

[Above] Gif/Art by Clownillustrations

TW(Trigger Warning): female puppet reader, talk of murder, metamorphic aftermath & descriptions, scopophobia(-philia), fictophilia, paraphilia, & xanthophilia(-phobia).

A/N(Author's Note): This one's just a drabble & longer than the last one, but I hope you enjoy it. I focused a bit on Home's involvement in you're shaping... & I wanted to gush over 30s/70s fashion for at least a paragraph. Read on if you'd like.

Light stabbed your revivified eyes as you strained to shield your hand over them, but your appendage & its limb fell flat over your lower belly. The sound of shutters closing gave you shaded comfort. For lack of better words, your vision was fuzzy at first. You regained consciousness, submerged neck down in a bathtub filled with lukewarm water with a fluffy towel embroidered with "W.D." in coiling font folded behind your head. It took you a few winks to clear your vision but once you did, you thought you were still dreaming of your transformation.

Upon looking down, you note your lilac body was cloaked in an orange, purple-trimmed tunic dress with slight matching details & white/amber dress heels. Not long after you awoke, Darling entered the room with a far bigger towel for your whole body. It seemed even fluffier than the one you had under your head. He sees that you're awake & grins.

"Good morning, Y/N!" He beams, dipping his finger into the water, most likely to check the temperature, while you start taking stock of your novel body: not numb but not overstimulated. Decent hues. Not too bad, if you had to say so. Your eyes float to Darling's face while a smile settled onto yours. He knows your looking at him, he likes you looking at him, he's just focused on tending to you (your recently reformed body).

Soon, he helps you out of the tub & dries you off due to a lag in mobility. Now that you're dried & (partially) standing, you get to see your brilliant orange hair being pulled mindfully into a high ponytail with the green strip of textile by your darling companion before he sets his hands on your shoulders. Your eyes looked as dreamy as his but you had magenta-hued eyeshadow instead of his reds/blues & a very faint line bordering your mouth's edge to possibly signify lips. You began toing-&-froing your head as slight glimmers of what you assumed were microscopic glitter showed nicely in the lit-up mirror's reflection of you. Wally's reflection leans to your right with a smile on his cat-like face.∆

"I hope you don't mind, my darling, but I did your makeup for you. I hope you like it." He shines well in the mirror's lights, leaving you starstruck. If he hadn't known to catch you sooner, you would have swooned straight into the sink's edge.

After wringing out any excess moisture, he begins leading you to a separate bedroom within Home. It's relatively quaint; a dresser of night clothes & intimates, a vanity mirror set that doubles as a writing desk complete with a well-padded swivel stool & pastel purple rotary phone, a twin canopy bed, in-wall bookshelves of blank sketch books/diaries, & a full-on walk-in closet full of on-theme wardrobe options.

"This room is yours!" Wally spoke gleefully, gesturing you into it with an encouraging wave. "It will evolve with you the longer you stay here! & look! Home even gave you books to work in!" His bright skin shifted into a giddy smile, the smooth voice giving a honeyed tone as you began exploring your new dwelling. As you did, Home creaked to gain Wally's attention. The filming was starting soon & he needed to finish his routines. Wally bids you a good day, turning to leave while Home gives a series of creaks that he reacts to happily while carrying on to greet the Viewer at the train/bus station.

While you wait, you root around the room curiously. You had always loved the Neighbors' style, the whole "70s Kidcore" fashion, & sought to throw something together due to your secondary-hued garbs not matching. Wally did just help you into a new form, new living arrangements, new everything, so maybe you could blend in a bit better. Easier said than done. Your fleece & yarn didn't go well with anything in the entirety of the primary-hued wardrobe, even the night clothes didn't fit your shades.

Defeated & dejected, you place everything back into its places respectfully, returned to your initial garbs & flopped onto the lush bed with the lusher beddings puffing up around you. You barely noticed the low rattling of the closet & dresser until Home tumbled Its floor to draw your awareness back to the root of your downed behavior. "Home, with all due respect, I was just in there. I can't wear any of-" your words catch in your throat. "-that."

You blink in shock, seeing a totally you-themed armoire that you excitedly dance into. Tea dresses, Whoopee-style denim bodysuits, peasant blouses, day dresses, bell bottoms, house dresses, frayed jeans, midi/maxi dresses, a kaleidoscope of tie-dyed options, tunic-type garbs, headbands, scarves, & jewelry (made of wood, stones, feathers, beads that look like eyes), fitted wide lapel blazers, flared pants, sweaters, cardigans, jumpers, numerous shoe choices from casual to formal, the whole 70s shebang.

You stood there, mouth wide open & stupefied at the expansive wardrobe Home had made especially & explicitly for you. What could you do but hug the door & its frame leading to your fashion fantasies? Home gives a seemingly happy creak, rattling Its floorboards in the direction of a wall-mounted vanity far bigger & with more makeup & hair items. Oh, yeah! This'll be fun~.

~~~~~

Wally slides behind Home's front door, bidding the viewers a good day while breathing a sigh of relief after the door clicks shut. Home cheerfully welcomes him & gets his attention, leading him up the stairs & into the doorway of [Y/N]'s room. He's confused yet trusting of the structure he's come to trust in his relatively short life. Once he reaches his destination, he was unsettled to find the room empty of his newest companion until the dual closet doors snapped open, giving you a much-obliged path for you to twirl out of.

Your high bun was held up by your bow-tied textile, orange-based peasant blouse, love beads, bracelets, a dark purple, full skirt complete with a light purple, cutesy poodle detail, frilled white socks, & the shoes you came into your new life with. You only noticed him when you stopped twirling for a second. He's just there, gazing at you.

"Home made me some new clothes." you chuckle shyly. "What do you think? Is it too much?" Your hand moves to dust off nonexistent filth from your skirt's front & sides as Wally stares on, only answering when Home gave a robust creak. The sound was most likely Its way of snapping Wally from his trance. "You look dynamite! It fits you so well!" His slightly raised vocals & bright smile are contagious, spurring you to look over your shoulder to the full-length mirror hanging within your view.

The rest of your day was spent being taught how to behave around others outside of Home's walls & Wally's gaze, should the need arise. For instance, say an episode calls for Wally to be away in the Neighborhood while you sit all alone in Home. You'd like to be out & about like any sane person/puppet. If you do leave, you'd have to change into something akin to Wally's apparel but feminine. Blouse, skirt, all that. You can keep the hair tie though. What to say, what not to say, both needed to not cause any unfavorable attention to you by anyone.

You listen intently, scribbling into one of your books you had labeled "Behavioral Know-how", as Wally speaks next to you at the kitchen table. Somehow, your pen hadn't run out of ink yet with all the writing you were doing. Wally pauses, giving a small, robotic chuckle as you lift your head with a furrowed brow. With a smooth movement, he boops your tongue's tip that had poked out in your bit of concentration.

"You're so cute like this~." Had his voice dipped? You hadn't noticed due to flustering into hour hands. Wally gives his odd laugh while you tried to recompose yourself. The sweet scene was seemingly untainted by the fact that, while the Viewers were distracted by a couple of skits that didn't feature him, Wally slithered off to handle some of those bullies from the night before.

He was still upset at the sight of you, frightened half to death, crumbled at Home's doorstep, nearly being punished for the heroic deed you had done to keep his dearest friends safe & unsullied. It made his stuffing feel like kindling & his fleece shift heatedly. Once he found the first few Home had described for his mental list, he made sure to keep out of the splatter distance when he blinked at them.

The lesson ends & Wally escorts you to your room with that warmly odd demeanor of his. You ask an extra question or two about the dos & don'ts of your new life, suppressing yawns as you did, while he patiently answered them. You were strangely eager to adapt to his life, but he couldn't be happier than right now. You were on his arm, sleepily talking of a life you wholeheartedly planned on living with him while content to be a side or background character, planning to have a building of your own to the side; something the Neighborhood doesn't have yet.

By the time the two of you reach your room, Home had somehow laid out night clothes for you. Two-piece men's set & a classy silk gown were your options. You vanish behind the privacy of your closet's doors while you tossed ideas around about the new building concept until Wally mentions the lack of blooms around the Neighborhood. You sprung from the closet, second wind shortly blasting through you, as you suggest a floral set up. "A flower shop!" you squeak excitedly. Wally laughs, amused by the sudden burst of energy, before agreeing to the idea.

You tuck yourself in, nuzzling into the warm bed as your companion strolls to your bedside with a soft smile adorning his face. "Sleep tight, [Y/N]. Tomorrow may not be your debut, but soon the time will come. Nighty night~." His vocals lull you to sleep as images of the flora-clad shop danced in your mind; brilliant blooms, radiant roses, beautiful Bergenias, & breathtaking bundles of bouquets all twirled in your dreams as sleep graced your novel form.

Not too far from the Neighborhood, somewhere in the vast studio, three men's bodies were hidden carefully so as to not be found. They lay on the grimy floor with whole halves & massive hunks 'bitten' from their bodies, taken slowly until each target passed due to blood loss or vital pieces of themselves vanishing, both sending them into shock & leaving them helpless against the beast that committed the most horrid act. Three down, eight to go...

There it is! I'll be working on pt.3/? soon! Leave your favorite blooms/herbs/plants in the comments & I'll try to fit them in somewhere.

Likes are nice, but reblogs are better!

#writers on tumblr #reader insert #fanfiction writer #oc art #welcome home wally darling #wally darling #welcome home wally #wally darling x reader

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returntosaturn271995 · 3 months

Text

Monday, March 4th: A schedule and its lessons

6:00 am: woke up weirdly alert- washed face and added the serum and sunscreen and deodorant that I got shipped from Geologie.

Lesson: Always check to make sure you cancel your subscriptions or you will end up with a fuck ton of unneeded products. Also are we sure serums do anything? Either way, I smell fucking great.

6:15 am: Nespresso coffee and doughnut

Lesson: Buying coffee pods saves you an obscene amount of money, doughnuts soak up a lot of caffeine so you don't immediately shit your pants.

7:00: Hard hour of organizing around the fact that the dumbass Kellogg's CEO said on TV that poor people should just eat cereal for breakfast...while jacking up prices. I assume I will soon be having to do that when the company goes up in boycotting flames. "Let them eat cake". Fucking idiot.

Lesson: TBH I was already a General Mills girl.

7:20: 20 minutes of hip stretching yoga.

Lesson: Exercise wakes you up. My hips don't want to flex or be told to flex.

7:40-8:30: Dropped off rent check and walked to TJ's in pursuit of the lost ingredient from my TikTok inspo. They still don't have it. Got some cardio at least. Wore my yellow spandex and my boobs were boobing.

Lesson: Trader Joe's is a beautiful fiction. I will never be Tik Tok glam.

8:30-9:00: Work? Maybe? This hour is lost to me but I know I didn't scroll anything.

Lesson: Be more present

9:15: Unloaded the dish rack, vacuumed (ew, I don't do that nearly enough), and washed new dishes while listening to "The Daily Jay". His advice was before any endeavor or journey to emotionally pack what you need along with what you physically pack. TBH I usually love him but this was a pretty dumb way to stretch "remember to be patient when away from your house" into seven minutes.

Lesson: Remember to pack "non-judgement" when listening to the Calm app you spend too much money on.

10:00: Hung out with Makenna as we recapped our weekends.

Lesson: Sharing is caring.

11:00: Hung outside with Blue while reading a new novel, a Spy Rom/Com Thriller by Ally Carter.

Lesson: I may be too cynical for rom-coms. I want to love it but the sweetness is giving me cavity. Trying to learn to enjoy it though. It is cute.

Changed into my fire outfit-of-the-day:

Fitted denim midi-dress, brown booties, simple necklace with a single pearl

11:45: Went to Pangea Outpost and spent a private amount of money on the following tchotchkes:

A kismet framed drawing of a Holly Golightly-styled women (also looking for a rich man to save her) lounging on a dark green couch (exactly like ours), a cat on her back (like Blue), and smoking a cigarette (call it a dad grass joint). It was actually wild because I found this art online and posted it to my story a few days ago and then there it was!

A framed drawing of a naked woman sitting in a chair with palm fronds in the background and a giant sunhat obscuring her face and breasts.

A framed line drawing of a hand and female form holding a book

A "wind and sea" street sign

A candle that smells like summer

I then reorganized the shelves by our front door to look beachy and chic- it's a 100% improvement.

Lesson: Money is never wasted beautifying your home. Anything that was ugly for 4 years can be transformed in under 15 minutes.

12-3: Work, lounging in the sun, reading.

Lesson: Fast responses are 40% or a work day, the other 60% is filling out excel.

3:15: Journaled. It feels like I have lived one thousand years. It has been nine hours.

Lesson: I like my little life.

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frozenwrites · 1 year

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This Review was Written... Without Merit.

That was a bad one, I know, but I can’t help it if the excitement of having read a YA novel that's relevant today overflows in terrible puns. Colleen Hoover’s popularity hasn’t evaded me over the past couple of years, I just never paid it much attention because I foolishly assumed that I’d outgrown young adult novels. Long since gone are the nights of me staying up until morning reading for the likes of John Green and Nicola Yoon and Rainbow Rowell, but when I saw Hoover’s bestsellers gloriously monumented in one of my favorite bookstores, I decided that it was time to return, and I like to believe that I picked the absolute best book to start with.

In the interest of keeping this thing spoiler-free, I won’t go too deeply into the plot, I’ll just have to review the book’s other… merits (last one, I promise). This is the story of a teenage girl called Merit Voss, whom, the novel is quick to establish, comes from a rather eccentric household. That in itself isn't a new trope in this genre, but it was how the main character's origins and family factored into Merit's growth and development that captivated me so instantaneously. She was a young girl who was a part of something much bigger and more complex than herself, and like teenagers often do, she was about to make a mess of it all. The plot progression was smooth and fluid. I enjoyed that, because while the story started out like I would expect from a typical romance, a little while later came the moment in which I smiled as I turned the page; I realized that this novel was more layered, and interesting, than I anticipated. The topics that Hoover looks into in this one are, as is usual for this genre, close to reality, and very likely to resonate with most people. Through the teenage protagonist's eyes we are exposed to revelations about family, expectations and pressure, self discovery, depression, and a few more. I have always believed in learning about life through fiction, and by the time I was done with this novel, I'd gained more than a few more perspectives. Also, and this is a very personal thing, I couldn't help but notice when I was seeing the world through a younger person's eyes that I was taken back to a time that I'd forgotten all about. My life (or anybody's, for that matter) was nothing like Merit's, but I could really empathize with her feeling like the subject of a world that wasn't her own, trying to either escape it or find happiness in short bursts. The first person narration was the most suitable to show that too. The story was in her voice, which instantly revealed a few aspects of her character; she had plenty of vibrance in her soul, but it was constantly muffled. Possibly because just like most people in her position, she hadn't yet grown to be comfortable being herself.

On a less bleak note, the nature of the reading experience itself was all that I hoped it would be, too. This is something I truly missed about Young Adult novels: they are just so easy to read. Hoover's writing style, combined with the smooth movement of the plot, the simply set scenery, and the masterfully executed dialogue made this a read for no more than two sittings (granted I had plenty of time in both). It was also a very nice touch to have a bunch of discussion questions at the end of the book, they were quite interesting and did a fine job cementing everything I'd collected from the novel into my mind.

Finally, my objectivity might be slightly clouded by the euphoria of having just finished a good book, but the whole point of a good YA novel is to make us acknowledge how we feel about things, just like Merit does, and so I'm ready to rate the novel at a solid 8/10. It was a good experience, and very likely won't be the only thing I read by Colleen Hoover. ✨

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ltwilliammowett · 3 years

Text

Sailors Needlework

Due to the fact that sailors had to mend their own clothes and there was always a sailmaker with his mates, many on board were very talented sewers. Therefore, many of them went beyond simple mending and created their own clothes. Or began to embellish their pieces with embroidery or make presents for their loved ones. Or earning some money on the side with their skills.

Sailor doing needlework, c. 1850 by unknown in: Jack Tar a Sailors Life, by J. Welles Henderson

It is not possible to pinpoint the exact origins, as many pieces have been lost over time.

A knitted wool hat and handsewn pants, from HMS Invincible, 1758, in: The First HMS Invincible (1747-58): Her Excavations (1980-1991), by John M Bingeman

Some pieces date from the 18th century, while most seem to date from the 19th or 20th century. However, it can be assumed that there are also much older examples.

Embroideries

This type of decoration was embroidered with coloured silk or wool threads on the shirts or duffle bags. But also ribbons, bags or money belts were decorated.

Sailor blouse and poke bag, made by George W.W. Dove, c. 1860 - Sailor’s Hats, c. 1850-1900 in: Jack Tar a Sailors Life, by J. Welles Henderson

Then names, mottos, stars, figures, ships, flags or anchors were embroidered on them.

Money belt, c. 1850 in: Jack Tar a Sailors Life, by J. Welles Henderson

Often the work was done in simple chain-stitch and the material was either taken from home or bought in a harbour.

Wollies

This type of embroidery is a very special form of embroidery, the embroidered woolen pictures, called woolies, which have been around since the 1840s. Most of the materials used to make woolies were found on board ships. Sailcloth, duck cloth from sailor's trousers or a simple linen or cotton fabric served as the backing. The runner was usually made from surplus wood with simple mortise and tenon joints, without wedges.

Theatrical curtains, often depicting trade union banners, suggest the artist was a merchant sailor. c. 1875 - HMS Trafalgar, c. 1865 (x)

Only the Berlin wool, cotton or silk had to be brought from home or purchased in a foreign port. The sailors mainly chose vivid colours - especially white, blue, red, brown and various shades of green. Early Woolies are made from naturally dyed wool. After the development of chemical dyes in the mid-1850s, sailors could obtain a wider range of colours at a cheaper price.

HMS Cumberland, c. 1842 - A third rate together with a paddle steamer, c. 1860-1880 (x)

When making a woolie, the sailor sometimes first sketched the outline of the ship and rigging in ink. With only these schematic designs, he then sewed these images freehand directly onto the canvas, using both rudimentary and refined stitches. Indeed, many Woolies show charming liberties taken with the appearance of elements other than the ship.

Multiple ships raise the value of a piece. This one showcases a second-rate ship, fourth-rate ship, frigate, and smaller ship, 1875 - HMS Queen a present from my son, c. 1855 (x) in: Jack Tar a Sailors Life,by J. Welles Henderson

The sailors used a wide variety of stitches, such as cross stitch, chain stitch, darning and the quilting technique called trapunto. Many of these pictures were appropriately made for the dearest ones at home. As the Victorians liked to collect, the pictures quickly became very popular and were often sold.

Knitting

The men on board also did this. Even though it's hard to imagine how old salts sat there and knitted. But for the cold days, the men needed warm clothes and so they knit socks, gloves and scarves.

British sailors knitting or crocheting (and looking like they enjoy it!) during WWI (x)

(Those who have read the Hornblower novels by CS Forester will perhaps remember that in some books it is mentioned that the men sat there and knitted.) It is verifiable that the Sailors knitted from the 18th century onwards, but since this art had also been known since the 13th century, it must have come on board earlier.

#naval history #sailors handicraft #needlework #age of sail #age of steam

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kazuchii · 3 years

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Hihi, can I request hcs for Xingqiu, Venti, Albedo, and Diluc with a gn s/o that seems aloof but they're such an idiot? Like for the first time s/o's bf see's how soft s/o really is and s/o is kinda being a tsundere about how soft they really are. I hope that made sense ashbesjks

Aloof GN!Reader w/ Genshin Boys

A/N: Hellooo! Thank you for requesting! You’ll be my first request so I’ll do my best to fulfill everything! I hope everything seems in character, I really need to get used to writing different personality types.

Synopsis: The Genshin boys discover that their s/o is actually softer than they originally thought.

Characters: Albedo, Diluc, Venti, Xingqiu

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: N/A

Masterlist

Albedo definitely didn’t mind you being distant towards him. I mean, he struggles with interactions in general so he just assumed,

“Oh, they must struggle as well.”

He never saw it as an issue between you since he knew deep down that you deeply cared for him.

He knew you’d always come back to him at the end of the day, he fully trusted that fact about you.

Strangely enough, he found you an intriguing person due to this.

Although the citizens in Mondstadt appear to see him in a positive light, there still are many who fear him deep down. After all, he keeps his secrets zipped up inside him. They know absolutely nothing about him or anything he’s capable of.

But you…you didn’t seem to care about that. And he was thankful for that.

And that brings you to today; a bright sunny day with the rays from the sun gleaming down.

The two of you, along with Klee, were outside the walls of Mondstadt, nearby the lake surrounding the city of freedom.

Today, Klee decided to have a little play date with the two of you. While Albedo was painting away, you and Klee were supposed to play around together.

If he’s being honest, Albedo was a little nervous.

You and Klee had never played together before and due to the distant and cold personality he was used to when it came to you, he wasn’t sure how you’d react with being around a bouncy and hyper child such as Klee.

So when Albedo spotted you playing with Klee, a soft smile on your face, he had a mini heart attack.

Not because he was panicking or anything, but more because he wasn’t used to seeing you smile like this. It made his chest feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Later that day, Albedo made sure to comment on the event.

“Well, it appears you two were getting along fondly.”

“You were watching?!”

“Of course I was watching. How could I look away from that fond smile you had on your face?”

“Shut up!”

“It was very cute.”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

Diluc and you first met months earlier. You were just another customer at first to him while he was simply a bartender.

Immediately though, he found you interesting.

While his other customers were loud and obnoxious, you would just sit at a table in the corner of Angels Share, minding your own business.

You would only ever speak to ask for another drink, which he would always provide.

“Another glass of apple cider, please.”

He doesn’t know what came over him when he decided he mentally decided to court you. He probably will never know the exact answer either.

It wasn’t the easiest either. Courting you was one of the most difficult things this man has ever done, and somehow he accomplished it in the end.

You were challenging with your distant personality, to say the least. It seemed to him that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him, that you didn’t see him in the way he saw you.

So when you finally accepted him after weeks, the relief this man felt wash over him in an instant is indescribable.

Now present day, Diluc finds himself heading back to Angels Share in the middle of the night. The moon was directly above him as he silently walked through the city, the only other light source being lanturns.

Due to the drowsiness that he was currently feeling, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he spotted you.

“What in the world are they doing out in the middle of the night?”

But what startled him more than the time on the clock was your facial expression. For the first time, Diluc saw you smile.

Diluc just stood frozen in time as you sat there, rubbing the belly of a stray dog, an empty bowl beside you. He could only assume you’ve been taking care of a stray.

“Who’s a good boy? It’s you, isn’t it!”

“(Y/N)?”

You instantly froze in place, your head creaking towards Diluc’s direction.

“D-Diluc.”

“What in the world are you doing up at this hour?”

“I-I could say the same for you! What are you doing up this late, huh?!”

You shot up from the ground, face beet red.

“I asked you first, love.”

“NOTHING. I WASN’T DOING ANYTHING!”

“That dog below you giving you puppy dog eyes says otherwise-“

“WHATS A DOG??”

Venti was simply just strumming away at his lyre, the sound alluring the Mondstadt citizens around him as he stood at the foot of the Barbatos statue in the plaza.

His eyes were shut as he too, was preoccupied with listening to the soothing sounds.

When his fingers came slowly to a halt, his aqua green eyes peeked open, the sound of the citizens around him clapping filling his ears.

A smile morphed onto his face.

But soon that smile increased in size. Beyond the crowd surrounding him, he spotted you. You weren't doing anything special, just standing there.

“(Y/N)!”

The bard could hardly control the excitement of you watching him doing what he adored.

Although your facial expression read that of a bored person, Venti didn't seem to mind at all at that moment. Instead, he craved your attention.

Soon enough, the bard stood in front of you, his grin somehow getting wider.

"(Y/N)! Did you enjoy the song?"

"It was nice."

Nice? Only nice? Your facial expression said otherwise. Was the song boring to listen to? Did he mess up a note? Maybe it just wasn't your type of song.

Venti's eyes narrowed in thought, his lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. He wanted you to say something more than just nice, he wanted you to smile for once due to one of his songs.

That is how you found yourself in this situation. Daily, Venti would find you around Mondstadt, play a song for you, and then wait for your response. He wanted you to say something more than the song was nice without a single hint of emotion before leaving.

But each time, that was your answer and Venti was getting annoyed. Not at you of course, but that he lacked the power to make you smile. He’s the Anemo God, but he can't seem to make his s/o smile.

So the astonishment Venti felt when he glimpsed his eyes over towards you after he played yet another song and saw you smiling ever so slightly, he almost dropped his lyre.

"(Y-Y/N)...are you smiling...?"

"Wait what-"

"I saw it! I saw you smile!"

When I tell you Venti was all over the place, I mean it. He was like a bouncy ball with him bouncing in every direction. But he couldn't control it. The pure bliss he felt in that moment took over all his actions.

"I-I didn't do anything. My face twitched."

"You can't lie to me! I saw it with my own eyes!"

The relationship between Xingqiu and you happened almost instantly. The two of you went from total strangers to Xingqiu always dragging you on his little adventures.

It all started with just a single sentence;

"Oh, you like Legend of the Shattered Halberd as well?"

Let me tell you, the look on his face when you said that. He always dreamed of having another person he could converse with when it came to books. So, the moment you said that he wasn't about to let you walk away without learning your name and other books you have read.

A friendship sparked between the two of you. He was one of the only people who would constantly talk with you even if you acted distantly. Soon enough, the two of you became a couple.

He wasn't worried about grabbing you from your home and taking you outside on a little adventure after he just finished reading one of his adventure novels. And of course, he'd always have a book with him during this time. You found that cute about him, but you never showed it.

Whenever the two of you would chat about books, Xingqiu was always shocked whenever you told him you haven't read a certain book.

"You're telling me you've never read The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies?!"

"Never."

That's when he shoved the first volume in your face, an immediate serious expression on his face. Blinking a few times, you accepted the book from him.

"Read it and then tell me how you feel about it. I can give you the other volumes if you enjoy it."

"Okay."

Xingqiu thought you seemed wary at first to read it. He knew you weren't as majorly obsessed with books as he was, so he internally was just preparing for you to end up not reading it.

He didn't mind it though, reading wasn't for everyone after all.

The following day though, he felt the sudden urge to stop by Wanwen Bookhouse. He just wanted to skim some of the books there, maybe purchase one or two.

But those plans immediately ended when he spotted you. You were leaning against the wooden red railings, the book he had let you borrowed flipped open in your hands. And you were a chunk through it already.

Xingqiu could've worn his eyes were bulging out of his eye sockets because the one other thing he saw was the tiny smile located on your face.

You didn't seem to notice Xingqiu before he was standing right in front of you, a huge grin on his face.

"You seem to be enjoying the book I lent you. Would you care for the remaining volumes?"

You almost dropped the book as a shriek left your mouth.

"Where did you come from?!"

"Well, I felt the urge to stop by the bookhouse and saw you. So, about those other volumes..."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, your cheeks slightly reddish.

"I'll...pick them up later..."

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #albedo x reader #venti x reader #xingqiu x reader #aloof reader #gender neutral reader #anime x reader #tsundere reader #headcanons #fluff

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

A Midsommar Night’s Dream

Prelude - I watched midsommar so have this.

Pairing - Izuku X reader X Todoroki males

Warnings - NSFW, dead dove, do not eat. Implied incest, cult-like behaviors. Dubcon.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/7clyJIrLkEbXUDwj1tC9zz?si=EK3gCdOHQ3WQeK-ed9eucg

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Izuku’s been officially dating you for three weeks.

Three weeks.

He’s known you for far longer - the two of you solid friends since you first met. The man doesn’t know when friendship had evolved into something more, but he’s sure glad it did.

You were sweet, and kind, and far too caring for your own good. You didn’t mind waiting up for Izuku when his nights ran late, studying for his masters or taking on extra shifts.

You would rub his shoulders when he got stressed, offer to make him tea or run him a bath or anything else he needed, anything to help out. You loved him, and he loved you.

Tonight was a night that many partners might fear - meeting the family.

But Izuku was hardly worried. He was best friends with your brother Shouto, a level-headed student with good work ethics and a dry sense of humor. The rest of the family couldn’t be that bad.

A simple dinner, you had told him, dress casual and no gifts required. Still, Izuku felt obligated to bring the finest bottle of bourbon his paycheck could afford him (he’d asked Shouto what your father’s favorite was, just to be safe).

The Todoroki household was impressive; massive and imposing in the countryside, surrounded by tall stone walls and looking straight out of a victorian romance novel. Izuku knows what those look like, because he’s seen them on the covers of the romance novels you like to read. He’s always doing his best to pay attention to your likes and dislikes.

“Izuku!” came your excited little voice as the door opened after his loud knock, and the green-haired man couldn’t stop himself from breaking out in a smile.

You were almost bouncing in excitement behind your older brother Shouto as he held the door open, taking the offered bottle of bourbon from Izuku with a nod before leaving you alone together in the foyer.

“Hey, missed you-” Izuku grunted as you attacked him in a hug, and a laugh bubbled out of you both when the solid man had to take a step backwards from the push of your body.

“Missed you too! I’m so excited for tonight, it’s so good that Dad and the rest of the family are accepting you.” A quick kiss to his cheek distracted Izuku.

You were fairly comfortable with physical touch, resting your head on his shoulder, never afraid to snuggle up to his side on movie nights, or hold his hand out in public (especially now that the two of you were dating). But Izuku had honestly expected more.... sensuality once the two of you started seeing each other as lovers more than just friends.

He had asked to kiss you one night, after you’d made him dinner and rubbed his shoulders and listened to him talk about the latest subject he was studying. Izuku had felt his heart warm, like cold wax cradled over a flame, and his love for you was bursting out of his chest. He wanted to kiss you and hold you close, tell you how much he loved you.

You had just smiled shyly and shook your head, saying you wanted to wait a bit. Which Izuku understood! This was all new, going from friends-to-dating, and he didn’t want to rush you or make you uncomfortable in any way. He was willing to wait.

So the kiss to his cheek surprised him, made him stutter and blush and hug you a bit tighter.

Then you were taking his hand, leading him through the maze of a house. He couldn’t help but notice the old-timey decorations mixed in with the more modern features, but done in an elegant, timeless fashion. A good blend of old mixed with new.

Stepping into the large dining room hand-in-hand with you, Izuku was met with the sight of the entire Todoroki family.

“Everybody-” You started, catching their attention until every set of eyes was on you and the tall man by your side. “This is Izuku!”

Shouto stepped forward, closest to the pair of you, and set his hand on Izuku’s shoulder with a smile. “Glad to have you joining the family.”

Izuku smiled back, pulling his friend into a hug and giving him a hearty pat on the back.

“This is Fuyumi-” A tap to Izuku’s shoulder had him turning around, stepping away from Shouto to shake your sister’s hand.

“Hi Izuku, I’ve heard such good things about you.” Her voice was soft and gentle, almost like your own. Izuku could see the family resemblance between the two of you.

“And this is Natsuo, he’s studying for his masters just like you.” A white-haired man approached him, friendly and open, ready to shake Izuku’s hand but ultimately pulling him into a hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger.” Natsuo laughed, and Izuku shrugged, completely unbothered.

“Here’s Touya.” You introduced a redhead next, a man sitting almost sullenly at the table. He didn’t rise to his feet, didn’t even take Izuku’s offered handshake.

“This is the guy you’ve been babbling about? He looks bori-”

“Touya.” The room, already hushed, grew even more silent, almost heavy with the weight of the voice from the man at the head of the table.

The gangly redhead shut his mouth, looking ready to roll his eyes. You pulled Izuku past him towards the imposing man who was looking at the man at your side, appraising him.

“And this is my dad. Dad, this is Izuku.”

“A pleasure to meet you sir.” Izuku shook the mans large hand, and the man nodded solemnly.

“Sit down, we’re ready to eat.”

-----

Dinner wasn’t a quiet affair. Comfortable conversation flowed easily between everyone; questions about Izuku’s degree, about his goals, his dreams, his job. He knew it was just everyone getting to know him, assurance that he was suitable for their daughter. Izuku wanted to be perfect for you, anything and everything you needed.

Enji (Izuku was not about to call your father dad) asked only a few questions, otherwise decidedly quiet at his spot at the table, chewing his food while watching Izuku respond to the rest of his family.

It was mainly Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shouto keeping the conversation flowing, Izuku easily keeping up with whatever they decided to talk about, asking engaging questions of his own about the family members he’d just met, laughing easily whenever you made a pun or Shouto’s dry humor jumped out.

Everything seemed to be going well.

Fuyumi asked to be excused, saying she needed to go prepare, and Enji waved her off easily, telling you to go with her. You rose from your chair easily, but not before catching Izuku’s hand and giving it a squeeze, eyes shining as you leaned close to whisper “See you in a bit.”.

“You really love her?” Touya asked as soon as the two women left the room to go prepare dessert, leaving Izuku alone with the male Todoroki’s. Izuku assumed this would be when he gets the shake-down, the usual “Hurt her and we’ll kill you” talk.

“So much. Sometimes I feel like I love her so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.” Izuku confessed.

“She talks about you a lot. I think she feels the same way that you do.” Natsuo supplied from across the table, and Izuku felt his cheeks flush, his heart flutter. It was one thing to know you loved someone - to feel the warmth and peace it brought to your soul. It was another to know that they loved you back; it made him feel whole.

“I've seen how you treat her, I think the two of you are a good match.” Shouto said, and Izuku smiled at his friend. Shouto had been his buddy since high school, truthfully was the reason that Izuku and you had met. You’d come along with Shouto one day when he’d come to hang out with Izuku, and the two of you had become fast friends.

Natsuo was rising from the table, walking back to the little shelf along one wall where various drinks sat (and Izuku’s bourbon gift). Izuku watched the man begin to pour out a red liquid, before his attention was caught by Shouto leaving the table as well, taking his plate and exiting the room.

Then Natsuo was placing a glass of the red liquid down in front of Izuku. “Don’t worry, this is nothing more than homemade punch.” He said as Izuku eyed it.

“It’s tradition.” Touya growled and Izuku found himself taken aback at the heat in the other man’s voice. Was the redhead angry at him for some reason?

“Touya, calm down.” The eldest Todoroki said, and Izuku almost wanted to cower himself at the sheer dominance exuding from the powerful man. “Izuku is becoming family. You will be happy for your sister, not jealous.”

Touya huffed, grumbling under his breath before shoving his seat away from the table. “Just don’t fuckin’ hurt her, got it? She’s my baby sister.”

“I would never-” But Touya is already storming out of the room, uncaring of Izuku’s assurances.

Natsuo sighs. “Don’t mind him, he just.... doesn’t like change.”

“What is this again?” Picking up the red drink, Izuku swirled it around the glass, trying to change the subject and hopefully smooth over the tension. Most of the tension had dissipated when Touya left, but it never hurt to be proactive.

“It’s a tea we brew and sweeten ourselves. We grow the plants in the backyard, you’ll see them soon.” Natsuo explained.

“It’s tradition?” Izuku parroted Touya’s earlier words, before taking a quick sip. It was delicious tea.

“Yes, we like to welcome those who are approved to join the family.” Natsuo laughed a little. “Fuyumi’s husband thought we were trying to drug him. It’s really just tea.”

Izuku snorted. It tasted like tea, why would someone think the Todoroki’s were trying to drug them? Sure, the family might be a little odd, but they weren’t malicious... right?

Before he knew it, his cup was empty and Natsuo had slipped out of the room, leaving Izuku alone with the head of the household, Enji.

Where were you? And why had everyone else left the room?

“I’m very particular about who I allow in my house, boy.” Enji started, and Izuku suddenly felt.... uneasy.

“Not everyone thinks the same way as the Todoroki’s. But you seem to be a bright young man. Educated. You aren’t going to be any trouble, are you?”

The last question wasn’t posed as such. It was a statement.

Still, Izuku shook his head. “No sir, I have no intentions of causing trouble.” Why did this casual dinner feel so serious? there was so much emphasis on being accepted into the family, on being welcomed. Izuku recognized how big of a deal that was but still... it’s not like you were about to marry him. He was planning on that a few years down the road.

“Come with me.” Enji instructed, wiping his mouth with his napkin before his impressive bulk hefted itself out of his chair. Izuku felt tiny next to the patriarch, following the man through the dark, empty house.

He wanted to ask where Enji was taking him. Where you had disappeared to, where the rest of the family had gone. But that would be rude, so Izuku kept his mouth shut.

Outside it was dark, moon shining dimly through the sky, the residual warmth of the summer day still held in the air. Izuku followed Enji through the back door, down along a path, into the plentiful, green backyard.

To a grove of trees, torches flickering from within the grove, small bushes and beautiful flowering plants dotted among the trees. A garden, Izuku realized. Those must be the plants and bushes that produce the tea Natsuo had given him.

Then there you were, in a little clearing among the trees.

Sitting on a dark blanket, knees drawn to your chest and ankles crossed in front of you as you hid your body.

Izuku started - you were naked.

Touya was kneeling beside you, a hand on your shoulder as he talked to you gently, barely sparing Izuku and his father a glance as they strode into the torch-lit clearing, Touya’s attention truly focused on you.

Shouto and Natsuo stood in the light, watching you, watching Izuku.

“What is this?” Izuku sputtered, and upon hearing his voice you looked away from Touya, a smile lighting up your face as you saw your Izuku.

“This is tradition boy.” Enji laid a heavy hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “Now strip down, my little girl’s been waiting.”

Izuku’s head swirled.

Touya stood up, shooting the green-haired man a lazy glare before moving to stand by his brothers, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Izuku...” Your sweet little voice called for him, and green eyes snapped to your form on the ground, watched as, with a nod from Enji, you slowly unfurled your body to expose yourself to your lover.

A stab of arousal hit Izuku in his gut, watching your soft-looking skin be revealed.

Pert breasts, a squishy tummy, glistening folds ready and twitching between your legs.

You were drenched.

There was so much shiny slick, all over your thighs and dripped onto the blanket, Izuku couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t think straight. It was impossible for you to be that wet on your own, you must have used lube or something to prepa-

It hit him; You and Fuyumi hadn’t gone to prepare dessert.

“You just gonna stand there all night like an idiot? Take your clothes off and fuck her you dwee-”

“Touya.” Enji growled, silencing his son immediately. Then the man turned to Izuku, easily pushing him forwards towards you. “You’ve been accepted into the family; that’s an invitation you don’t want to refuse.”

With a sigh, you easily laid down onto your back, legs still spread for Izuku to look at you, hands coming up to rest shyly over your breasts.

“Don’t do that, let him see.” Shouto murmured, and immediately your hands dropped in obedience. Shouto hummed in approval, before bi-colored eyes swept up to look at Izuku, urging his friend forward with a tilt of his head down to your form.

With trembling hands, Izuku fumbled with his pants, unzipping them with a bit of difficulty, undoing his belt, working on the buttons of his nice shirt the he had worn to make a good impression when he met your family for the first time.

It took him a moment to undress, a red blush creeping up over his cheeks and down to his chest as he bared his body to the Todoroki’s.

He didn’t think he was small, but he wasn’t big either; average. Izuku was confident in his size, didn’t really know or are how he stacked up against other guys, and the girls he’d been with before hadn’t complained.

Still, he felt embarrassed to be naked in front of other people, to be on display. But there wasn’t another option, was there? (Izuku didn’t know if that was such a bad thing)

Two short strides before dropping to his knees in front of you on the blanket, his throat dry and his palms sweaty.

“Are you-” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Are you okay with this?”

Your head nodded yes, a pleased, yet shy grin on your face. “Of course. I want you.”

The softness of your voice, of your body, Izuku felt dizzy as he shuffled forward, close enough to touch. Still hesitant, worried about the male Todoroki members watching from the sidelines, brain racing to work through the strangeness of the situation, the utter oddity of this... ritual that was currently taking place.

But then you were sitting up, hands circling around his neck, pressing your lips to his with crushing finality.

He was a part of the family now.

It felt good to kiss you, soft lips pressed together, little huffs of breath from your nose as you kept going. Izuku took the freedom of circling his hands around your waist, almost gasping at the plushness of your flesh, melting against you with a groan as your lips kept pressing to his.

“I’m all ready, just-just put it in.” Your breathless little confession tumbled out as soon as you pulled away from your first real kiss with Izuku, a blush high on your cheeks.

But it was Izuku’s turn to blush, sitting between your legs like a fumbling virgin. “I’m not hard yet, but I can, uhm, finger you. Or we can kiss for a little bit mo-”

“You aren’t even hard? Touya’s sneering voice cut through Izuku’s babbling. “Look at my sister. She’s fucking soaking the ground. That’s not hot to you?”

Izuku stuttered, eyes flickering down to where your legs were opened, pretty little cunt twitching. It’s like you were begging to be touched, and Izuku was a sucker for begging.

“No, that’s so hot, oh my god.” He breathed, fingers instinctively reaching to swipe through your wetness, relishing the way you gasped and shuddered as his hand made contact with your body.

“She’s so soft too, got tits like little pillows. You should lick ‘em, she likes that.” Touya continues, and Izuku wants to point out that the reason he’s not completely hard yet isn’t because he’s not insanely turned on by the beautiful creature in front of him, but because he’s feeling weirded out by all her brothers and her dad watching intently from the sidelines.

Yet he does what Touya suggests, leaning forward to put his mouth on your chest, tongue darting out to drag against your skin.

The eldest Todoroki was right about you being soft.

Izuku can’t stop his other hand from rubbing at your cunt more firmly, feeling your little hips twitch towards him, pressing your chest more firmly into his mouth.

“She’s so pretty.” Natsuo comments, but Izuku is hardly listening when he’s flicking at your clit, nursing at your tits. “She’s gonna feel real good around you Izuku, like a new fleshlight.”

“You better breed her good, boy.” Enji booms, and suddenly you’re scrabbling at Izuku’s arms, pulling his hair, whining “Please, Izuku please.”.

“Okay, shit, let me-”

“He must be really worked up, Izuku hardly ever curses.” Shouto announces, and fuck, he’s right - but how could he not be worked up?

Izuku is hard, blood rushing so quickly to his cock that he feels lightheaded, taking himself in hand and giving his length a few dry pumps. He’s envisioning how sopping wet you’ll feel against him, staring, drooling over your cunt.

And then he’s lining himself up, kissing you hard, and pushing inside.

“Big, ‘s too big!” You panic, tears popping to your eyes but Izuku is quick to wipe them away, cooing at you and stilling his hips.

“Oh, don’t cry! Shh, I’ll go slow, ‘m sorry, I thought you were ready-”

“Natsu-” You cried, hand scrabbling into the ground above your head, reaching, searching for your brother.

“Hey, hey, I’m here.” The man was immediately on his knees by your face, clasping your hand fervently, leaning down to put a sweet kiss on your nose. “Breathe honey, in and out. It’s okay.”

“Noo I-I.... ‘M scared, he’s-he’s-ah!” A stuttered cry broke from your chest as Izuku shifted slightly, inadvertently pushing deeper.

“No, it's gonna be okay. It's just like when we do it, yeah? He's gonna be nice.” And Natsuo is looking at Izuku, fixing him with such a pointed gaze and Izuku gets the message. He’s going to be nice.

It’s not like he wasn’t planning on it - the green haired man loves you.

But then the breath is sucked out of his chest as he comprehends what Natsuo had just comforted you with, that-that.

That you’ve fucked your brother.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Izuku chants, unable to stop his hips from inching back and forth, humnping into you in infinitesimal movements as arousal punches through his gut. “Sorry, I can’t stop-’h my god that’s-”

He can hear Touya cackle. “Damn, something really got him going.”

You were squeezing your eyes shut, clenching Natsuo’s hand so tight that the skin was whitening. Your brother didn’t seem to mind, more occupied with stroking your hair, eyes fixated on the soft jiggle of your breasts as Izuku humped you like a senseless virgin.

His breathing turned into wheezing, hitching when a presence was felt at his back.

“You can do better than that.” Enji’s hands were pressing against Izuku’s naked rear, making the green haired man flinch forward and away from the touch. But Enji merely pushed, propelling Izuku’s thrusts so that he would really fuck the warm, willing body beneath him.

“Izuk-Izu-Izuku-” You moaned, rocking your body to further spear yourself onto his cock, apparently finding the fast glide pleasurable as opposed to your hesitance earlier.

He leaned down to kiss you, both of you moaning into the kiss, hands wandering as you pushed to meet each other, Izuku’s stomach clenching tighter and tighter as he neared his release.

“She’s never had someone fuck her raw before...” Shouto mused, eyes glued to the scene in front of him, watching his best friend fuck his sister with the help of his family. “I wonder if it feels different.”

But his words were lost in the quick slap of skin meeting skin, Izuku’s grunts, your sweet little noises as you writhed and clutched at Natsuo’s hand, your other hand holding onto Izuku.

And then Izuku was gone, balls clenching and cock twitching inside you, pulsing as he shot his seed.

Your eyes fluttered shut, pulling your hand away from Natsuo to place it against your tummy, pressing right over where Izuku was still grinding against you. “Feels... feels so warm.”

Izuku was panting, sweat sticking his curls to his forehead, desire slowly swirling out of his body as he came.

What the fuck had he just done?

Enji clapped him once on the back, before rising to his feet. “Welcome to the family, son.”

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years

Text

A Difficult Question

Word count: 3000

Warnings: continued second-hand embarrassment? 😉 tickling, fluff as always

This is in response to a prompt from @sigyn-laufeyson0609 for a sequel to An Embarrassing Secret. Thanks for the idea friend! 😊 I snuck in a little soft Loki toward the end, just to switch things up a little!

* * *

You had avoided Loki for a solid week after he had revealed he knew about your blog. Although he didn’t seem to find it as strange as you’d have expected him to, you couldn’t help but feel a little exposed. Your writing wasn’t something you’d intended to show anyone, much less the tall, handsome, alien god who made you feel giddy every time he said your name.

Despite your concern that he would tell the others, no one else so much as breathed a word about your little secret. Either they were too kind to say anything for fear of embarrassing you, or he truly hadn’t told anyone else. You hoped it was the latter, although you supposed it couldn’t get any worse than Loki finding out.

You couldn’t avoid him forever, though. The first time you ran into him, other than those brief moments in passing where you ducked your head or turned the other way, you were sitting in the library again, this time actually reading something rather than typing on your laptop. (No way were you risking leaving that out in public again…) Loki had entered the library without your knowledge, having been engrossed in the novel you were reading while sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs. A sudden squeeze to your side alerted you to his presence, causing you to jolt and whip your head around to find the god smirking down at you. He shot you a wink before continuing on to browse the shelves.

Somehow, that brief interaction had eased your anxiety around him. You didn’t really want to stay away from him, after all. And it seemed like he was going to treat the whole situation as a game, which in a strange way made you feel better about the whole situation. You would much rather he use this little secret for some lighthearted flirting versus making a big show about it.

So, you went back to your usual routines, no longer trying to shy away from him. He rewarded you with the occasional poke to the side while passing by you in the hallway, or a quick pinch to the soft skin above your knee during movie night with the team. And, maybe, you started trying to provoke him a little more. Doing little irritating things like stealing the last cookie right from under his nose or changing the channel during one of the rare moments he was actually watching something on the television usually earned you a couple extra scribbles to the belly, or a fluttering of fingers to the neck.

It never lasted longer than a couple seconds at most, though. Most of the time that was plenty for you, just long enough to make your heart beat faster with adrenaline and for heat to prickle in your cheeks.

But not today.

No, today you were really in the mood to be tickled senseless. You were even making sarcastic comments to some of the other Avengers, hoping that someone might just decide they’d had enough of your sass. Although no one else knew you actually enjoyed it, everyone was aware that you were more ticklish than the average person. It was uncommon for the others to take advantage of it, but on rare occasions Thor or Tony would dig their fingers into your ribs to get you to stop talking if you were being particularly annoying. Today, though, no one was getting the hint.

You didn’t see Loki until later that evening, when you stumbled across him in the common room. He was alone, sitting on the couch with his back leaned up against the cushions and his feet up on the coffee table. He had a book in his hand, which he seemed pretty focused on, turning a page every few seconds as his eyes skimmed across the aging pages.

“You’re hovering again,” he observed suddenly, never once lifting his gaze from his book. Startled, you left your position from the doorway and entered the room, taking a seat on the other side of the couch.

“I’ll never understand how you know people are there without even seeing them,” you marveled.

“I’ve told you before – it’s impossible to sneak up on me.”

“Well maybe I’ll be the first someday.” You sat back against the couch, and silence blanketed the room, save for the occasional crinkling of the pages of Loki’s book as he continued to read. You realized that this would be the perfect opportunity to try to provoke the Asgardian to tickle you – you were alone in the common room, and he seemed to be in a state of focus where he would be pretty irritated if you broke his concentration.

You wanted to be subtle, though. You wouldn’t want him to think you were asking for it, after all, and as he was the only person who knew about your secret, you figured he would see through you pretty quickly if you tried too hard. So, you started simple by leaning forward and picking up the remote from the coffee table, turning on the television. You found a program he had previously expressed disinterest in and set the channel to that, settling back against the couch cushions, and turning up the volume.

Loki was silent despite all of this, so you stole a glance in his direction. His brow was furrowed a little, but his gaze was still fixed on the pages of his novel. Need to try harder, you thought to yourself. You cranked up the volume a little more and laughed a little extra loud at every joke. After trying this for a few minutes, you risked another glance in his direction.

Nothing. Not even a flinch.

You were starting to get a little desperate. The desire for someone to tickle you had settled itself like a flame in your belly, and it had been slowly building all day long. But you were too proud, too embarrassed to just come out and ask for it. You had to find another way.

You turned your body so you were leaning back against the arm of the couch and stretched your legs out across the couch cushions, your feet only inches away from Loki’s leg. This time, you didn’t even chance looking over at him, knowing he wouldn’t try anything if he thought you were expecting it. You sat still for a maddening amount of time without finding any success in your attempts. You stretched one leg out a little further and tapped his leg with your foot.

Nothing.

You tried again, this time with a little more force. At long last, the trickster looked up from his book to glare at you.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his tone flat.

“Uhh… no, sorry,” you replied quickly. He turned his attention back to his book, and you turned back to the TV, feeling a bit deflated. Your mood was still gnawing at your insides, though, and you weren’t quite ready to give up just yet.

You waited a few moments, trying to think of another way to get on his nerves. Maybe you just needed to try a different angle.

“So… watcha reading?” you inquired.

“Shakespeare,” he stated without looking up.

“Oh. That’s really old though, isn’t it?”

“’Old’ is a relative term. What you consider ‘old’ is actually quite new for someone my age.”

“Right. Because you’re old too,” you snickered. This got him to look up at you again finally.

“Pardon?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Well, like you said, ‘old’ is relative. So, compared to me, you’re really old.” You held his gaze, a triumphant grin threatening to spread across your face.

“Yes, I am ‘old’ compared to you I suppose. And yet, you still seem to like what you see.”

Your face flushed hot.

“I- well- that’s not… never mind,” you huffed, turning away from him once again. You heard his book snap shut, the cover making a small thumping sound as he set it down on the table.

“You seem a bit off today. Is there something with which you require assistance?” You glanced up to find his blue-green eyes fixed on you. It was difficult to read his expression – he wasn’t annoyed, but he wasn’t overtly amused, either.

“What? No. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you’re watching a television show you and I both know you hate, laughing loudly and turning the volume up, and just generally trying to capture my attention,” he listed. “If I didn’t know any better, I would assume you were trying to get me to tickle you.”

“W-what!? Pshh. That’s… that’s ridiculous,” you stammered, folding your arms defiantly across your chest. “Just because I don’t mind it doesn’t mean I would ask for it.”

“I see.” Loki sat back against the couch again, picking up his novel and reopening it to his bookmarked page. “So, you won’t mind if I go back to reading in peace, then?”

“Nope,” you affirmed, popping the P for emphasis. You leaned back into your seat once again, your arms still crossed. You changed the channel to another show you were more interested in so you could try to forget about this whole thing by distracting yourself.

Once again, the room fell silent, with the exception of the voices on the television and the flipping of Loki’s book pages. Your heart sank deeper in your chest in disappointment. You almost had him there – why did he have to go and ruin it by observing out loud that you wanted to be tickled?

“Honestly, y/n, you look as if someone put something sour in your drink,” Loki said finally, placing his book back on the coffee table.

“I’m fine,” you insisted flatly, refusing to look at him.

“I’ve told you before – if you want me to tickle you, all you have to do is ask.” You observed him in your peripheral vision, your stomach swooping at the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“No,” you stated.

“No? No what? No, you don’t want me to tickle you? Or no, you refuse to ask?”

“Just… no.” You pulled your feet closer to your body, sitting crisscross on the couch with your arms still folded across your torso. Loki chuckled, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You sound like a petulant child.”

“Do not!” you argued. Loki didn’t respond – he merely held his hand out at you, silently noting that you’d proven his point. You huffed and turned away from him, pretending to turn your focus back to the television.

“I know exactly what you’re trying to do, darling,” he sang, scooting closer to you on the couch. “You are hoping to provoke me sufficiently to make me retaliate and tickle you. You’ve been doing so since you saw me from the doorway. Don’t try to deny it.”

Heat was crawling up your neck into your cheeks again, and you squeezed your mouth shut, shaking your head defiantly. He shuffled a bit closer, now only inches away from you. “I’m sorry to tell you, dear, but you’re going to have to ask me properly.” You let out an involuntary groan at that, your heart pounding at the sheer proximity of the god beside you. “Use your words, darling. What is it that you want?”

Your resolve was breaking. This whole exchange was only enhancing your lee mood, and he’d made it clear that you wouldn’t get anything out of him without actually coming out and asking for it bluntly. It was difficult to form the words in your mouth.

“I… erm… could you… uh…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” he teased, his smirk broadening.

“Could you… would you, maybe… couldyoutickleme?” The words finally came tumbling out of your mouth, and as soon as you said it you found yourself pinned down on the couch, the god of mischief hovering over you with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Now, y/n, was that really so difficult?” Before you had the chance to tell him exactly how difficult it was, he cut you off by digging his fingers into your ribcage. He knew it was a weaker spot, drawing rambunctious laughter from you as you grasped his wrists. You weren’t really making any effort to try to push him away, of course, but it gave you something to do with your hands. “For someone who wanted this so badly, you’re making it exceedingly difficult with your incessant squirming.”

“I cahahan’t help ihihit!!” you exclaimed, arching your back as his fingers darted down to your belly. He wouldn’t give you the chance to get accustomed to one spot, quickly moving to scribble into your sides or drill his thumbs into your hips. It was exactly what you’d been hoping would happen all day today, and yet still you could barely handle it as ticklish shocks wracked through your body.

“Let’s see, now – where else are you ticklish? I don’t have your little narratives open for reference this time, so I suppose I’m going to have to find out for myself,” he pondered aloud, tone laced with mischief. “Ah! How about here?” Loki slipped his fingers under your arms, causing you to clamp them down to your sides. That didn’t stop him, though, continuing to vibrate his fingers into your uppermost ribs. The sensation made you shriek, throwing your head back and laughing with abandon.

“Nohoho Loki! Not there!” you cried, feebly pulling at his wrists as much as you could with your arms pressed to your sides.

“No? On the contrary, dear, I think it’s a perfectly effective spot.” You twisted involuntarily, accidentally rolling off the couch and face first onto the floor with a thud. Loki was at your side in a flash, kneeling beside you with a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yehehes,” you giggled, heart fluttering at the idea that he was so concerned about you possibly being hurt. You turned to roll onto your back to look up at him, but he pressed down on your shoulder, holding you in place.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked ominously, his fingers moving to dig into your ribcage with renewed vigor. Not being able to see his hands was so much better worse. You tried desperately to roll onto your side but each time he would shift both hands to the newly exposed side, forcing you to roll back onto your stomach to protect the sensitive skin there. “Shall I ‘go in for the kill’ as they say?”

“No! Don’t! Anything but that!” you pleaded, although you both knew your heart wasn’t really in it.

“Sorry, darling, but as I recall, you did ask for this.” With that, his fingertips scribbled into that wretched spot on the back of your upper ribs. You kicked your feet against the floor in ticklish agony, your laughter pitching up an octave. Before long, your laughter grew silent, prompting him to ease up on you and scratch lightly at your sides. You turned to roll onto your back, and he allowed it this time, chuckling at your disheveled state. You took a moment to catch your breath, chest heaving with exertion, and you twitched occasionally when his fingertips found an extra sensitive spot on your side.

Loki’s fingers stilled against your sides, and you frowned up at him, feeling a sense of loss without his touch. He laughed heartily at that, a genuine smile spreading across his lips.

“Silly girl, was that not enough for you? Do you need me to continue?” Before waiting for your answer, he reached down and fluttered his fingers behind both knees. You squealed in surprise, giggles spilling from your lips. Loki sat on your shins to avoid any accidental kicks to the face, shifting to knead at the soft skin just above your knee on your inner thigh. You hadn’t anticipated just how unbearably ticklish that spot could be.

“Wait wait wahahait!! Stahahap!!” you cried, trying desperately to yank your legs out from under the Asgardian.

“Ah, I see I’ve identified a new– what do you call it? ‘Death spot’?”

Your laughter was growing hoarse, and Loki took this as his cue to let up again, getting up off your legs and kneeling beside you. You were exhausted, but the endorphins coursing through your veins made you feel giddy.

“That… that was mean,” you said breathlessly.

“I’ll remind you once again, you asked for it,” he retorted.

Loki stood up and offered you a hand to help you off the floor, which you gratefully accepted. You stood there awkwardly for a moment, not certain what to say. For the first time, you noticed Loki was also at a loss for words; his hand moved to the back of his neck, and he glanced around the room, uncertainty in his eyes.

On a whim (or maybe it was just the residual adrenaline, you’ll never know) you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around the bewildered god in front of you.

“Thanks, Loki,” you whispered into his shoulder. He stood frozen for a moment before finally sliding his arms around you as well, squeezing you tight.

“Anytime, love,” he replied, his voice low and gruff, softer than you’d ever heard him speak. You hugged him for another moment before releasing the trickster and hurrying off to your room, hoping to hide away before you could say anything to ruin things.

And, you can bet, you would be doing some more writing tonight.

Part 3: A Cozy Evening

#ticklish!reader #loki tickle #tickle fic #tickle fluff #marvel tickle #soft loki

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luna-the-moth · 3 years

Text

Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving S/O (SFW)

I accidentally deleted the ask, but here’s what was requested: @hey-its-spades : Hello! For Levi, Lucifer, and Satan if you dont mind uwu . Mc has a knack for plants and has taken it upon themselves to put plants everywhere. ( hanging from ceilings,crawling ivy on outside walls,in the kitchen, library, even luci's study.) All the rooms look a liytle greener and None of them say anything but the student body is saying that it makes the old place look alive and home-y. It makes mc really happy.

Oh I adore this ask! SFW, with a GN! reader. I’m assuming by student body you mean the HoL residents? Since almost nobody outside the household residents visit there. I got really carried away with Levi and the Lucifer angst as well-

My vampire poll for the OM characters

My ask box is open, but please read my rules and guidelines before requesting! Please send them in my ask box, as I can keep track of requests better. Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving Reader (SFW)

Prologue/basics for all of them:

Ever since you came to the HoL, you decided that it was too....lifeless.

Sure, there were bright candles lighting the halls, but the house was devoid of any life, besides the brothers and Henry.

So you took it upon yourself to decorate, of course!

While many human world plants didn’t fare well in the Devildom due to the poor soil quality, Lord Diavolo had agreed to bring you enchanted soil, guaranteed to grow any plant.

Regardless of temperature or sunlight needs, whatever plant grew in that soil would flourish to its upmost potential.

Asmo had a great deal of amusement with you decorating, advising you on what colors would fit specific areas of the household, and what species of flowers would bring beautiful symbolism as well.

In the house’s entryway, you left a pair of Strelitzia nicolai (giant bird of paradise) plants, as they added a subtle flair.

With long, stemmed leaves, it contributed a touch of elegance and flair.

On the a few windowsills, you had placed Begonia rex-coltorum (Rex begonias), their dark, vivid, colors standing out.

You had planted crawling ivy on the outside walls, making the house seem more inviting.

Lucifer:

Lucifer hadn’t minded your redecoration, as it had matched well with the house’s aesthetic, adding to the beauty.

In fact, he had quite enjoyed seeing you pore over catalogues and books, deciding which one would fit the space best.

Over the next few weeks, he watched as the House of Lamentation became brighter, more colorful.

It was a nice change, he thought.

However, he was surprised when he had woken up in his study, rose bushes in the corners of his study.

Deep, red roses greeted him as he surveyed his study with a pleased smile.

It was no secret Lucifer adored roses, and he was appalled when he had first arrived in the Devildom, as the soil quality was so poor, it could hardly grow anything.

Which meant he couldn’t grow roses, one of his favorite flowers.

The fact that you had thought about him, and wanted to gift him such a beautiful display, greatly moved the stoic demon.

Making his way to one of the bushes, he took off his gloves and knelt down on one knee.

The soft, sweet fragrance immersed his senses, filling him with memories of laughter, smiles, serenity, and Lilith.

Roses were her favorite flower.

As the memories flooded his mind, Lucifer suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of longing, and his vision became blurred.

He remembered the way Lilith used to brighten up when helping him with his garden, an eager grin ever-present on her face.

The way she would make him a colorful bouquet of roses whenever Michael had given him more stressful tasks than usual.

He quickly wiped a stray tear that had fallen from one of his eyes, and calmed himself.

Taking one of the velvety flowers in his hand, Lucifer gently brought his lips to the flower head, leaving a soft kiss, almost as if it was Lilith’s forehead.

The next time you went over to his study for some tea, he brought you into his arms, bringing you close to him.

Kissing your cheek, he lets a small smile break through his usually-serious facade.

“Thank you for the roses, my love. They compliment my study’s aesthetic nicely.”

Placing a small kiss on your neck, he smirked.

“Perhaps I can thank you with a date tonight?”

Leviathan:

Levi actively enjoyed watching you redecorate the HoL.

It was like one of his favorite games, The Grims! (Yes that was a terrible pun for The Sims.)

He had listened with interest as you went off on the best plants that would fit his aesthetic, and would match well with water.

What caught his attention, was when you brought up the topic of bio luminescent plants.

Of course, they weren’t naturally grown in the human world, but scientists had recently found a way to genetically modify tobacco plants.

In doing so, they had spliced the genes with four fungus genes related to bio luminescence, then carefully cultivated them.

From a seedling to maturity, the plants presented a small glow, visible to the naked eye.

The gene modification had no harmful effects on the plants, and the only difference between the lab-modified plants and wild plants, were height.

The entire time you had explained the plant’s origins passionately, Levi sat in awe, watching as you had gestured your hands in an excited fashion.

So this is what you meant when you had said you enjoyed him being so passionate about an anime or game.

At first, Levi had thought you were merely exaggerating to cheer him up, but as he looks at you now, eyes shining with delight, he understood.

You decided that since you were decorating the HoL, you would decorate Levi’s room as well.

You didn’t have access to the bio-luminescent plants, but you decorated his rooms to the nines nonetheless.

So, you had pooled together your money and resources, to create a mini lily pond for him!

You had miraculously gotten him out of the house, for a cosplay con, in which you had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to buy yourself a ticket.

Which we all know is a lie, you had just not bought one for yourself in order to stay at home, assembling the pond with Solomon’s help.

It was small, enough to fit around 6-7 lily pads/lotuses.

You had carefully grown the lily pads in your room, watching as they eventually bloomed into light, almost ethereal flowers.

By the time Levi came home, you had just finished cleaning up, getting the mud washed from your hands and arms.

Upon seeing the lily pond, Levi’s eyes were wide with amazement and shock.

You created and did this, for him?

Absolutely sets down his handfuls of merch, (gently, mind you) and silently steps over to you.

He does his best to hug you like in anime, wanting you to know how much he appreciates this.

Yes, it may be awkward, but it warms your heart knowing that he stepped out of his comfort zone, just to thank you.

He’s too embarrassed to say it while looking at you, but you can hear his voice as he rests his head against yours.

As he pulls away, a blush is evident on his face, his head turned to the side as he awkwardly places his hand against the back of his neck.

“T-thank you, Y/n. It’s a b-beautiful lily pond.”

Satan:

He fully supported your botanical excursion

After all, he’s always had an affinity for plants.

Whether it be for potions, poisons, or mere decor, Satan had a green thumb, through and through.

If his room weren’t full of books, scriptures, and all sorts of literature, he’d fill it with various plants.

So when you had announced that you were going to re-decorate the HoL with various flora, he was buzzing with excitement.

He gathered every human botanical book he knew of, and started leaving them for you on your desk.

Within a week, you had stacks upon stacks of books, knowledge ready at your disposal.

And so you began to research.

Satan was considerate to leave footnotes in a few of them, like what type would pair well with what color schemes, etc.

You smiled while reading through them, seeing Satan’s elegant handwritten flow across the pages.

Within a few weeks, you had skimmed through the books, thoroughly reading a handful of them.

After ordering the plants you wanted on Azukon, (courtesy of Lord Diavolo’s credit card-) you were eagerly anticipating their arrival.

Especially because a few ‘special items’ were in the package.

After all, you wanted to thank Satan properly for his help.

When the various flora arrived, you had carefully cultivated each of them, encouraging their growth.

Satan had assisted you, monitoring their progress, and making sure none of his brothers ruined them.

The following weekend, Satan had a student council meeting planned, as did the rest of the brothers.

Which left you with the perfect opportunity to set up Satan’s gifts.

In his room, you had placed Senecio rowleyanus (string of pearls) plants, their bright green globes spilling over the bookshelves.

Along with that, were lavender candles, with dried lavender crushed inside.

After all, Satan had always (usually) been the most level-headed out of his brothers, despite his title.

He’s much more than the avatar of wrath, and has gone through painstaking time and trials to overcome that.

That’s why you had picked lavender, which without a doubt, would be noticed by Satan.

When he had come back from the meeting, he was already in a pissy mood, as things didn’t go as planned, ending in an argument between the brothers.

However, when he stepped into his room, seeing lavender candles lit, and garlands of plants over the bookshelves, he immediately broke out in a smile.

A real, genuine smile.

Seeing you sitting on his bed, lavender candles lit, plant garlands stringing down from the bookshelves, it was almost like one of the romance novels he had read...

Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms, spinning you until you were laughing for him to stop.

Finally setting you down to gently kabeddon you, he playfully kisses the corner of your lips.

“Thank you my love, these are absolutely beautiful. I shall preserve these for all eternity.”

#my writing #obey me #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x reader fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me scenario #obey me headcanon #obey me angst

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sokayisaidiot · 3 years

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Why Tommy is one of THE BEST written characters in existence.

Alright, that’s it

Here I give you my fuckin Take on why Tommy is one of the best written characters out there and can easily compete with best-selling Novels like Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. I’m sick of a trashing that doesn’t even make sense. So buckle up. Here I will tell you why Tommy has one of the best written characters in history of Books and Movies. Remember, I write this all in my perspective and take many examples of other character books as well

Before this all starts, I will also talk about the main characters of some series, since Tommy has the reputation of being a “main” character.

When I look at the books I’ve read, I see a large range of characters and there way of making the story interesting.

Now, to establish a good character, we need key points of motivations, to make them relatable and bla bla blub:

Personality

Part of the story

Their Powers

Flaws

Relationships

Prized Possessions

History/the backstory

The moral and story the character tells

First tho, I want to explain some words I’m going to use here!

Mary Sue/Gary Stu:

Those are characters who are flawless, have missing chunks of personality and mostly one way written. They are easy to achieve when you are trying to make your character look badass.

Examples in some Fandoms are

· Rey Skywalker (Star Wars Sequels 7-9)

· Hermione Granger (Harry Potter Movies)

· Bella Swan (Twilight)

Tree-System:

Imagine a tree. You plant something small and soon you have something giant with many branches, roots and connections. You have the seed you plant and with caring and care you let it grow. Then you have somewhat a sapling. The tree grows with the care and soon you have a tree with many branches.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Personality

Negative:

Tommy’s personality is very brash and out of control = He’s barely containable in fights, going off to do his own risky plans and starting two or so fights. He can’t forgive a person very easily like Eret, who took it a long time to get forgiveness and Techno, as he shot Tubbo at the Festival. He makes decision that also cost his life like the duel because he hates losing

Tommy can be very lazy, giving the thought he wouldn’t have to do the hard work = Shown when he tries to steal the hearts of seas from Eret or potions from Techno, bargain with “drugs” by Puffy and Ponk or gives other people the work he doesn’t want to do like he did with getting cobblestone

Like a child, he often clings to close people and annoys others for attention = His desperate attempts to have company or someone praising him shows, when he tries to get Philza’s approval (or a pat on the back), constantly looking out, if Tubbo’s either okay or where his is,

He doesn’t like to wait or doing things in the long run = He constantly asks when something is finished, when they could go or in his exile, when he was allowed to go back to L’Manburg

He doesn’t show often his cooled down, scared and vulnerable side = He often overshadows his trauma with a facade of jokes and bad hidden hurt he brings out. When he talks about something bad, he’s clearly confused, not really knowing on how to understand it. Also he runs away from things he can’t control a panic attack like visiting the final control room or looking away from the holes in Logstedshire

He runs without head into a battle so often as possible = Only when they had their final showdown for the disc, Tommy was seen preparing in story, thinking it would be his last fight

---

Positive:

But as he has negative traits, his positive shows to many people clearly.

His unwavering loyalty to the closest of people = His loyalty to Tubbo, Wilbur And L’Manburg are, were and always will be a part of him. He stands against anyone who goes against that, even if it means pain in many ways.

Passionate about dear projects of his = You can see Tommy talking about his discs or see an video where he would spent days getting different discs. Those things are very known to be rare things, so for Tommy to possess it gives him somewhat power. L’Manburg was the same passion, even a bit more, as you can see he was ready to give up his most prized disk. The last and in the moment is his hotel

Bravery like no one makes him as one of the dangerous person on peoples hitlist = He stands up for others. He stood up to L’Manburg. He in the end didn’t care that he lost a life. When he sees a foe, he won’t stand down and submit, he will fight against the oppression and tell them that in the face. During the mission to get a visa, he stood against Schlatt, even if they were clearly in the loose of people and disadvantage. Or getting an apology of Sapnap for killing Niki’s fox. Fighting against 5 people with just one ally while the other is a hostage.

His leadership = There are not many people who can take it up, but Tommy is an exception. He can coordinate people with his loud voice and somewhat thought plans. He is charismatic, even if he’s not so good at it like Wilbur, he still can motivate people to fight for themselves or others. He’s seen to lead others into battle and taking in the fighting part a leading role

Unselfish. That’s one of the most arguable things about Tommy`s character = You can´t look at a kid and say he is selfish because he wants to get something dearly back. Especially Tommy, after he gave the things up, he cared about. But if something is happening again, he will lay it down to do the other thing. As seen by the egg, he had a hard time thinking what to do. He, in a long time, didn’t want to be catalyst for something to happen. Not when he in the moment could have stopped it. So doing this act for himself ones, was a good decisions, since they clearly weren’t ready for war

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part of the Story

Outside of the story:

Let’s all just get something “straight”. What would Dream SMP without Tommyinnit. Now. Don’t get me wrong. All the creators on the SMP are amazing. They are all wonderful and deserve every bit of Attention and fame they get. But just imagine.

We heard from Tubbo, he was the one, who got him into the SMP. Schlatt and Wilbur came because of a “visit”. Quackity was added because TOMMY said he was bored. And from that, we got somewhat of a tree system. As Tommy was invited and drawn into conflict by Sapnap (shoutout to best boy!), he got more people.

He also has the highest viewership and kind of shortest streams, since he is doing college next to Youtube and Streaming. He can’t give up his high viewers since all of those 200.000 (average) – closing 650.000 People (doing something like a big lore stream in prison or the disc final), choose to watch him.

Also a reminder again, Tommy has his storyline as does everyone else. When we saw Tommy and Techno during the partner up arc doing something with the dogs, they saw the start of the red vines arc BUT said they were on the wrong storyline. Tommy was asked by the eggpire writers if he wanted to be a part of the story and he said yes. Why do you think he nearly says nothing about the egg. He leaves it to the writers. Also, it was said by one of Wilbur’s Character descriptions, that Tommy was okay with others doing something with his character, while Techno was more reluctant with his.

Let me say it again, every creator is awesome and individual! Nobody should be compared to others. But with Tommy coming to the Dream SMP, there really was a change in the game.

Remember, that’s because we also have a BT (before Tommy) and AT (after Tommy) Timestamp in the wiki!

Inside of the story:

Now, with Sapnap, Alyssa, Ponk and Tommy in the first ever big conflict its shown the importance. People assume Tommy is one of the conflict bringers, even though he was dragged in it by having something stolen by Sapnap and then forced to fight with him, to get it back.

The Consequences he’s got where having his discs get stolen. This is what Tommy’s biggest character motivation was the first two seasons. Those discs are known on the server and when you think about gifting something to C!Tommy, it would be a disc.

Techno = Disc Wait

Badboyhalo = Disc Pigstep, Chirp

HBomb = Disc Pigstep, Wait

Tubbo = Stal

LazarBeam = Far

Tommy is a openminded boy who longs for funny little adventures and pranks, since he is just a young person. It’s in his nature.

So why, when he does something, are people looking on him?

Because the things he was and is a part of some of the biggest events. And him being so loud and brave and rash lets him stand out. If you look at the old (hah) Revolution of L’Manburg, who can you hear talking the most and the loudest? Tommy and Dream. They were the most outgoing about the war with Sapnap, Tubbo and Wilbur following. Fundy was more quieter (thankfully he has so much more lore now).

Tommy’s character is known to fall or be dragged head first in almost every conflict. He has connections to who? Mostly everybody. So of course he’s connected big parts to the stories.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Powers

Okay. Every “main” character or character with huge importance to the story has some kind of power. Looking at Dream, who is a “demigod” or Ranboo who I don’t even have to talk about. So what about Tommy?

Well. He doesn’t have any. Tommyinnit is one of the people, we get to have as an “human” character

Hannah = nature “Spirit”

Karl Jacobs = Timetraveller

Antfrost, Technoblade, Ranboo, Fundy = Hybrids

Dream = Something something green blob

Awesamdude, Puffy, Philza, Sapnap, Eret, Schlatt = Adding Features (wings, eyes, body parts)

Badboyhalo, Skeppy = completely different species apparently

Tommy has, as we know of the moment, a not confirmed power. The assumptions of the egg are not clear, since we haven’t seen those interact in a while. All we know is, Tommy didn’t get hurt, destroying a part and not feeling anything, while being in contact. That in canon considered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flaws

As talked before in personality and also in an assumption, we see the pattern of loyalty and brashness repeating.

Flaws are the most important parts of a character. It shows the struggle of their adventure and learning how to live with it.

Percy Jackson learned loyalty is nothing, if you don’t have someone to project it on.

Harry Potter and Luke Skywalker learned being a hot head didn’t really bring him forward and it’s important to have a plan

Frodo Beutlin learned that it is okay taking care of yourself and what attachment means

Anakin Skywalker learned fear is controllable and it shouldn’t be a remaining part of your life

Tommy learned over the time that his rashness could hurt others, loyalty couldn’t come back to him like he gave it out and he learns even more in the coming future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Relationships

Tommy’s relationships is a mess of strings. Some are badly knotted and some are very clear.

A characters connections is an important part for the character himself.

Relationships in life are

· Enemies(-figure)

· Rivals(-figure)

· Friends(-figure)

· Family(-figure)

· Lover(-figure)

· Complicated family(-figure)

· Complicated friend (-figure)

Relationships are a part of everyone’s life. Not with everybody is a good relationship holdable. Either it’s because their hurting each other or another person. People change and that’s a part of life.

Tommy realized, even tho it hurt, that Techno wasn’t good for his mental state and health. It went against everything Tommy ever stood for.

And Tommy and Tubbo’s relationship wasn’t really that broken. It’s normal for friends to fight. Normal for them hit their heads in. Tommy and Tubbo were surrounded with people who were, at the time, a terrible addition to their mental life.

The Dream SMP doesn’t talk it out, hell the talking club was just destroyed because they preferred fists over words. So why do you think everything is going out with a fight, if it’s all they learned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Priced Possessions

Every character has to something a connection.

Might it be Percy Jackson and his sword

Might it be Harry with his glasses, broomstick and wand

Frodo and his stupid ring

For Tommy we all know it’s his ender chest inside and secret chest. He keeps many belongings in his chests and always has been one for those things. He kept flowers, compasses, Friendship signs and most importantly, his discs.

The care for something of items are important. Might it be a teddy, old photo or jewelry. People get protective over it, because it holds sentimental value to the person.

If you ask me, to let go of my teddy bear, I will show you my middle finger. Probably beat you up too.

You can’t just throw out your memories into a fire or pit of lava. This is just showing you never had a care and everything you had a memory with it before would have been gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

History/Backstory

We don’t have much here, but still something to work with.

A Hero doesn’t have an easy live. And it’s an said thing that every Hero needs an origin Story.

Tommy, said not really anything about his past.

All we know is that Tommy didn’t have anyone, presumably an Orphan, he knew the sleepy bois already a long time ago and he never learned on how to ride a bike, saying he never really had a family.

Signs that he didn’t even leave half a good life are:

· his knowledge on stealing and preferring this over working for it

· Liking to live in weird spaces like carved out holes in sides of hills (his hobbit hole or the basement by Techno) or living in his tent over a hole house

· His liking of cobblestone and dirt, which are easy gettable blocks

· Holding his goodies and friends close to him

· Craving for attention or contact in general

And now for the part with the dream SMP.

We saw how it changed him. We saw his trauma and all the bad things that happened to him.

And that’s why we say his actions came from those past experiences and things. We are NOT excusing them, but showing. Past trauma CHANGES a person. It brings experience and a heavy amount of pain and anger. ESPECIALLY at a young age, you will change due to your experience in life. You will grow worried and anxious. Tommy did that. He grew more anxious, angry, scared and also experienced.

Stop saying trauma doesn’t explain it. Yes. It does. His lashing out came from his past and negative experience. Imagine growing up in a world where this is the norm. War and banishing. As well as death. Tommy has reasons why he is acting and does stuff.

Understand it. You don’t have to forgive him or anything. But understand it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moral and the story the character tells us

When we see Tommy, we see a boy who went nearly through it all. Mental/Physical Abuse, Abandonment, War, Suicidal thoughts, betrayal, Death, etc…

He doesn’t show forgiveness for his abuser. Still has signs, that he fights with the past abuse, but he tells us a story of learning from past mistakes, that even in the darkest hours, there’s a way out. Things will, can and be ugly and those are dark hours, but in no way should you think that it’s over. Life is more than one way and can always turn into a new direction.

Life takes something old away from you. Life gives you something new. You lose someone, you find someone new. Friends can turn into enemies. Enemies can turn into friends. You can meet the weirdest people. You can meet the most amazing people. You can be alone and in the next second, you’re not. You will often lose, but you also can win if you give everything.

Life can be weird and that’s okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Fazit (that’s german)

The thing is, he is very real for many viewers such as myself. He acts like how many teenagers his age reacts.

He doesn’t be “baby”, because he shows the “ugly” sides of trauma. He shows that attachments are good and you shouldn’t forgive your abuser. In no way. He shows that acting out and lashing out are two things that happen, when you have been in wars for many times and nearly just know that.

He has many flaws and mistakes but those make him even more real. He is showing how he is growing.

As a person, friend, (pseudo-)family.

He is real to many of the viewer since he doesn’t have any powers that are existing in our world to solve their problems. He knows that nobody would have helped him and Tubbo against Dream if he didn’t pay others.

Also that you can’t be friends with everyone and that it’s okay that not everybody likes you.

Tommy´s character is the most human and realistic character in a way of how we would react. We are humans who are lashing out and who are having ugly sides.

And also please stop saying that, since I really can relate to Tommy and I don’t want to be feeling like a “bad-written Character”…

And Don’t even get me started on Tommy’s acting dude!

He is one of the best actors and that one livestreams! In from off 200.000 – 600.000 People!

On the face cam alone is so much to see…

· You can see his face with each emotion shifting,

· when something funnily weird happens, he looks dead eyes in the camera

The voice acting…

· His breathing,

· the stuttering in his voice,

· THE GODDAMN EMOTIONS IN HIS FACE

HIS MUSIC CHOICE!

· He changes the music fitting for the situations as in fighting scenes or funny moments.

· He also has some funny bits with his music.

· Like a goddam DJ!

The ingame character

· His movements and head stares

· The jumping around when he gets overactive

· Long stops when he thinks or is sad!

You can see, I am a person from Tumblr and saw way too much bullshit around tommys character.

Stop critiquing him so badly.

You could say, I woke up and chose violence

>:D

#tommyinnit #mcyt #dream smp #character analysis #dream smp character analysis

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Mirdal’ika (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Reader takes care of the Razor Crest and the child while Mando is out hunting. When Mando doesn’t return when he’s supposed to, the book-smart reader has to learn some street smarts and help her Mandalorian.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: violence, cussing, mentions of blood

A/N: Okay, I’m a nerd, a certified nerd as if that wasn’t clear. This is my love letter to the nerds out there, to the ones who had their first kiss a little late, who stayed in and read books rather than partying. I love you, you’re cool. Italics are for emphasis and internal dialogue, but in some places also to show that another language is being spoken. Hopefully that’s clear! Oh, also: mirdal’ika is a word of my own creation. No Mando’a word exists for “nerd” that I could find, so this is my interpretation of the language using my best etymological skills!

mirdala= intelligent, clever -’ika = suffix meaning small or little mirdal’ika = intelligent little one; Mando’a slang meaning nerd.

Growing up, you were the kid who had her nose buried in a book at all times. You rarely interacted with the outside world. While the other children on Tatooine made sandcastles or played games, drawing in the sand, you read encyclopedias and fact books, learning about the other planets in your systems and other cultures. Your fixation at age 12 had been on Mandalorian culture, fascinated by the warriors that were like faraway, mythical knights to your young self. As a child enraptured by fairy tales and stories of intergalactic heroes like Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, you’d somehow always been enchanted by the bad-boy type, the dark and mysterious man who reluctantly saves the day, more along the lines of Han Solo. Naturally, the fact that Mandalorians never showed their face was mysterious, and you’d admit that you dreamed of being swept away by the Mand’alor and having the privilege of being the sole person to see their face, of being a queen and finding true love. You later moved on to research other cultures, even teaching yourself various galactic languages should you ever get the chance to travel. That didn’t seem likely, growing up on a planet where the only claim to fame was Luke Skywalker’s brief residence a few towns over. Your knowledge of Mandalorian culture was part of what made you so special to Mando, your employer-friend-coworker-roommate-co-parent whose name you had yet to learn. You never asked questions of him. Never asked him to take off his helmet, never asked him what was under it, never asked anything too personal, understood that the helmet could only come off in front of members of his clan. You’d cut him off and finish a sentence when he’d explain something of his customs to you, stunning him with your knowledge. He liked it, and by association he liked you. You had bore much of your life story to him, and he gladly would’ve given you some of his. He had come to like you, to trust you even, but you never asked. For fear you wouldn’t want to hear it, he held back. You even spoke Mando’a, though he didn’t know that. It always brought a smirk to your face as he’d turn his back after calling you some sweet words in his native tongue, thinking you’d be oblivious. It shocked you at first; you didn’t expect such a stoic and silent man to be so openly flirtatious, but after a while it most certainly grew on you. You would tease him equally in another tongue, calling him handsome or dashing in Pak Pak or Bothese. It was fun, the way he’d try to guess what you were saying, usually assuming it meant something negative.

With your vast knowledge of languages, you’d both expected that you would be able to interpret the words of Mando’s adopted son, that his babbling would be easily deciphered into some species’ tongue. Eventually you realized that he wasn’t speaking a language yet, simply regurgitating syllables like any child would. He was a baby, after all. You set out to make it your mission to teach the child languages when Mando was away, and he had begun to identify the meaning of words, even if he couldn’t say them himself. He could identify body parts on himself, you by your name, and Mando by his; well, the name you called him, which you knew wasn’t his real name. Mando had taken you on as a crewmate for the Razor Crest a few months ago now, and you still knew next to nothing about the beskar-clad warrior. He was a forward man, so you assumed he would tell you things when he was ready. That’s about all you knew: he was a man, and he was a Mandalorian. He wanted to tell you everything, especially the fact that he had been enchanted by your intelligence and wit since the first time he met you, stopping on Tatooine for a bounty and encountering you when he asked a fellow villager who the most knowledgeable person around was. The tiny green thing he held was a menace, and you cared for him while the Mandalorian man went and hunted his bounty. The child was hesitant to leave you, getting attached after a quick few days of staying in your hut, and the man had decided you could be valuable. Just before he walked through the door, he turned and offered you a job. You were shy when you accepted, and had nursed a crush the whole time you two had traveled together. You couldn’t believe the situation, just like in those trashy novels you’d read when you were interested in his culture. Now that you lived with him and the tiny green thing, you stayed aboard his ship while he hunted and cared for the kid, cleaned, fixed up the piece of junk, and generally ran the almost-household. It was enjoyable; you liked the man, especially once you came to find his sense of humor similar to your own, and you absolutely adored the child in your care. Your little ragtag crew fell into a rhythm after the first month or so: Mando would leave on a hunt for a few days. While he was gone, you’d play with the baby, feed him and care for him. You washed the blood and dirt from the man’s clothing and the child’s bile from the clothing belonging to you and the baby, taught the child new words, and generally… well, raised him. The baby felt like your child when you two were alone, but when the Mandalorian came home, he was the only thing visible in that child’s round black eyes. It was all about him, sitting in his lap, babbling incoherent words to him, playing with him. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian is on a hunt. You and the child sit in the bed compartment; you lie on the mattress and the child rests in his mesh hammock above the entry. At the last port, you picked up as many books as possible to entertain both you and the child. He loved listening to your voice, and so you happily read aloud to him as you rest together. The Mandalorian should be home tonight, you figured, since he told you that this was a rather easy bounty and that it should take him no more than 3 days. It’s now a couple hours after the third day, but you’re sure it’s fine. The child’s eyes droop closed as you read to him, flawlessly translating the book from the Pak Pak it was written in. The Basic words pour from your mouth, and the little thing gives a gentle yawn before curling up with his favorite blanket and silver ball and passing out. Looking up, you laugh at the sight softly and transition to reading in your head. Not long after the kid falls asleep, you follow. It was unintentional, but reading soothes you, and the perfectly cozy bed that smells like Mando draws you in further and further until sleep washes over your body. You hug one pillow to your chest as you sleep, imagining it was the man’s body you cuddled up against. - Mando is 24 hours late. You’ve been pacing in the ship since you realized it’s officially a day later than he said he’d be back. Dammit, you’re going to find that man. You’re not unaccustomed to violence, having been in scuffles as a child and teen, fighting off Jawas or unsavory men in Tatooine cantinas. You need to track him down and find him. First, you go up to the cockpit and look at the comm watch he gave you. It has a two-way tracking device; one for him to find you, and one for you to find him. Mando has the technology to see where you are built into his vambrace. You, however, have nothing. After searching the cockpit, you find and crack open a tracking fob he used in the past. You open the back of the comm watch, finding the bit with the tracker and wire it to the fob. As you connect two wires, the fob suddenly blinks with light. Laughing at the fact that you made it work, you relax a little. Now you can track the Mandalorian man down. After slipping the fob into a pocket of your pants, you scoot back down the ladder and to the cargo hold’s back wall: Mando’s arsenal. You can do this, you tell yourself, and dare to open Mando’s personal armory built into the wall. You strap a holster to your thigh, adding a vibroblade there. A belt with two guns rests on your hips. An ammo belt drapes across your chest, settling between your breasts and pulling your black tank top tight, the back of the leather sash holding Mando’s backup pulse rifle. You take a look in the mirror of the refresher, and you have to admit that you look badass. Weapons and homemade tracker at the ready, you set out to find him. You leave the baby with a trustworthy woman at the hangar, one who has babysat him before for Mando, then enter the bustling city. - Following the blinking and beeping of the fob, you find your way to the opposite end of the city, to a building located near the outskirts. It’s run down and looks abandoned. It makes perfect sense that someone would hide here. As you approach, the beeping of the fob encourages you; the Mandalorian is definitely here. You disable the sound on the fob and slip it in your pocket, grabbing one of the blasters from your hip. As you approach, the building is silent. The roar of the city is quiet but present, and you slip through an open doorway quietly. You scan the rooms, blaster held in front of you and ready to shoot. You take inventory of the first floor and find nothing. The staircase looks terribly old, and you wince as you take your first step onto it and it makes a noise. Now or never, you tell yourself and quickly run up the steps, knowing the noise can’t be avoided, so you’d better make it quick. You reach the top of the steps, pulling out your other blaster, and find a male Twi’lek standing over a pile of silver and black on the floor. Mando. He’s most definitely unconscious, maybe even- no, he can’t be dead, you can see his slow breathing and the way it makes his body rise and fall. “Fuck,” you say out loud, and the Twi’lek turns towards you. The man is large, much larger than you. He’s overweight and dressed in combat clothes, his face battered and bloody. Your heart sinks as you realize this man is the bounty Mando was going for. You need to start thinking on your feet, and quickly. The man starts to move toward you and you hold out both blasters. “Easy there, nerra,” you tell him in Twi’leki, calling him ‘brother’ to attempt to put him at ease. It doesn’t have the effect that you hoped. “Why are you here?” he asks back, also in Twi’leki, reaching for his weapon. “Don’t draw,” you threaten and inch closer. He was a bail jumper, Mando had informed you before he left, but not for a petty charge; he had escaped in order to avoid several charges of murder. He was a former bounty hunter, who Mando had encountered once. The idea strikes you. “I’m here for him,” you say and nod to the lump of beskar behind the man on the ground. “There’s a bounty on his head. I… heard whoever turns him in gets to keep the beskar too,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “You going for him too?” The Twi’lek man shakes his head. “No. He was coming for me. Thought he could beat me.” You seize this opportunity. “From what you look like, I don’t think anyone could. This one is worth a lot of credits. Enough to run away to a pleasure planet… twice over,” you say, inching closer. Mando makes a soft groan and it breaks your heart as he gains consciousness. He must notice you; he starts to moan out words, but you know he can’t speak or he’ll expose you both. “Silence, Mandalorian,” you say again in Basic, words holding acid. “Twice over… let’s bring him in together. Find some wonderful planet to share that bounty on…” you offer, raising an eyebrow and slowly creeping closer to the man. “What’s your name?” You ask. He tells you his and you tell him yours, then give him a seductive smile. The man’s face falls into a smirk. You put both blasters in your belt once more and his posture relaxes fully. “Sounds wonderful to me, beautiful.” “Wow. For a jaded bounty hunter, you’re more foolish than one could ever believe.” Before the man can process your words, you’ve slung the pulse rifle over your shoulder and pull it into position. You shoot a pulse and it finds its target in his chest. He groans in agony and falls backwards, directly on top of Mando. Wincing for the man beneath the hulking Twi’lek, you grab a blaster, shooting the man in each leg. “Mando, hey, it’s me,” you tell him as you roll the behemoth from on top of him. “I’m here,” you murmur. He starts mumbling back, but it’s in Mando’a. That makes sense, you suppose, that he’s reverting in such a moment of crisis. “How hurt are you?” you ask, beginning to speak Mando’a to him in hopes he’ll understand you better. Mando’s brain works through the fog, hearing your words and recognizing that it’s you. “Real bad,” he groans out, speaking his native tongue. You touch his elbow, unprotected by beskar, and he whines. “No, no,” he whimpers, sounding almost like a child. You sigh. This was going to be harder than you expected. “Fuck, how am I going to get you out of here?” The brain function that the Mandalorian has left is your saving grace. “Speeder bike. Hidden down there. We can get on.” “Yes, but how are we going to get you downstairs?” He doesn’t respond, simply groans in pain. If this was going to work without immense pain on his part, some kind of miracle was going to need to happen. “I’m going to drag you down the stairs as carefully as I can, okay? We’ll let gravity do the work. Do you have a good arm?” “The left one… so clever, so smart, pretty girl,” he breathes out, words rasping. You blush at the words but chuckle. He’s in so much pain there’s no way he can think straight now. “I’ll go get the bike, then we’ll get you down there.” This is the hard part, you think to yourself. First, you run down the steps and search for the speeder bike Mando mentioned. You find it and sigh in relief. It’s a piece of junk, but it should do. You position it at the bottom of the stairs and then run up them again. “Okay, this is going to hurt. Can you roll yourself?” “No, shoulder’s all fucked up,” he mumbles and you groan. “Well, I’ll have to drag you on the good one. Get ready.” Taking his good arm, you begin dragging him towards the steps. He groans and you wince. “I’m so sorry, you’re doing so well,” you tell him as you move him. “Here we go.” Once he’s at the top of the steps, you hold him under his armpits, blushing at how close you are. He’s so strong, even injured, and you smile softly to yourself. You lower the two of you down the stairs with careful movements and manage to hold him long enough to get him seated on the speeder bike. He leans forward onto the handles. “One moment,” you tell him. Running up the stairs once more, you shoot another pulse into the bounty. He gives a dazed nod, clearly not understanding anything through the pain he’s in. You can’t let Mando leave this man behind. You’re sure he’s unconscious, so you repeat the same movements as before but with next to no gentleness. You toss him on the back of the speeder bike, where the gunner would sit, and tie him down with ropes before covering him with a blanket. “Alright, back to the ship as quick as we possibly can,” you inform Mando and get the speeder to a door wide enough to fit it through. Once it works, you hop on between Mando and the handlebar and start it up, moving as quickly as you possibly can. Soon enough, you’re back at the hangar that holds the Razor Crest. You enter the back way, using the speeder bike entrance. You hop off quickly and park it by the Crest. “Stay right there, I’m going to get this asshole into the carbonite,” you tell Mando. His consciousness hasn’t been clear for at least a day. He didn’t even process the fact that you had grabbed the bounty. “What? You got him?” “One of us had to,” you tease, enjoying the fact that the two of you are finally conversing in his native tongue. You’ve always loved Mando’a, the way the words sound rolling off your tongue. You untie the man, still unconscious, and haul him up the ramp of the Crest. You’ve seen Mando work the carbonite freezer once or twice, and you hope you press the right buttons as you force the man onto the slab. “Come on, baby,” you murmur to the machine, hoping it’ll work. With one final button, there’s a hiss and cold air blows from it, freezing him. You sigh in relief. You return to the main hold and pop out a cot for him to lie on. Running back down the ramp, you find the dazed Mandalorian in the exact spot you left him in. “I’m going to carry you into the ship,” you tell him, grunting with effort as you lift his practically deadweight body off of the side and into a standing position. You drag him up and immediately shove him onto the cot. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you cringe as he moans in pain at the contact with the cot. “One more thing and we’ll get some bacta in you.” The owner of the hangar is waiting for you outside the ship, holding the kid, both confused by the commotion. You very quickly and hurriedly explain to her that everything is fine now, thank her and pay her a generous amount of credits, and rush back onto the ship with the baby. “Keep the speeder!” You shout behind you as you close the ramp. - A full day and a half later, the Mandalorian awakens from a deep slumber with a pounding headache. He sits with a jolt, which only makes the headache worse. He looks around to find that he’s in the Razor Crest, the familiar hum indicating that he’s in hyperspace. The events of the past few days begin to manifest in his memory and he groans, lying back down on the cot. You climb down from the cockpit as you hear him stirring and find him on his side. “Good morning,” you say softly as you sit on the edge of his cot, the kid in your arm. You set the child down and he toddles off elsewhere. “You were out for a good day and a half,” you tell him and stroke his side softly. “How do you feel?” “Like shit,” he groans, rolling to his back again. He’s hyper aware of your touch, the way your fingers drag down his- oh shit, he’s shirtless, armorless- skin, avoiding the bruises. “You… thank you,” he says, gravelly voice soft. It sinks in that he’s wearing just a pair of shorts and his helmet. You must’ve undressed him, cleaned and bandaged his wounds. His breath catches in his throat. You nod and stroke his good arm. “Of course. That’s why you brought me on, isn’t it?” you tease. He chuckles, but it’s clear that takes effort. “Really, thank you. And you got the bounty too! Shit, mesh’la, I-” he says as he starts to sit, but you push him back down with a hand to his chest, caressing the side of his beskar helmet. “Nayc, stay down,” you tell him, chuckling softly. “Rest. I’ll bring you some water and go back up to the cockpit so you can take off the helmet,” you say with a soft smile, standing and going to where you keep the food and water bottles. As you move, he mulls over the events that led him here. He got knocked down and beat by the man that was supposed to be his bounty. That never happened. You came to rescue him and- wait. You just told him no, nayc, in Mando’a. In fact, you were speaking Mando’a to him the whole time you rescued him, reassuring him and directing him in his native tongue, which he had no idea you spoke until just now. You return with a nutrient bar and water bottle, setting them next to his side on the cot. “I’ll head back up-” you start to say, but he stops you by grabbing his wrist. “You speak Mando’a,” he says simply, looking up at you with wonder behind his mask. “Yeah,” you chuckle and admit, face flushing with warmth. His is equally heating beneath the beskar. He sits up slightly but instead you come to his level, sitting on the edge of the cot and pushing him down with a firm palm to his chest. He chuckles softly. “So you’ve understood me every time I’ve called you beautiful,” he says, a tinge of shyness in his modulated voice. Nodding, you tuck a stray hair back from your face. “I… yes, I have,” you nod, giving him an awkward smile. “I hear you talk in Mando'a in your sleep too, sometimes.” Even his chest is flushing with warmth now. You look away, at a corner of the ship “You talk about your life. People from your past.” The silence hangs between the two of you, your hand still resting in the center of his chest. You slowly drag it to his good shoulder, and down his arm. He clasps your hand in his when it reaches his fingertips. “Have you heard the name Din?” He asks in his native tongue, and you shake your head softly, truthfully. It never came out. “That’s… my name. Din, Din Djarin,” he admits to you, hand squeezing yours softly. You gasp softly, not expecting that information from him. A smile settles on your face after a moment. “Well then. Hello, Din.” You lean down and press your forehead to where his lies beneath the metal. A keldabe kiss, you know, the most intimate gesture a Mandalorian can do. It truly melts his heart, the organ pumping frantically in his chest. “Hello to you too, gorgeous. Wait,” he stops and pushes your face from his, gently. He returns to speaking Basic with a chuckle. “How many languages do you speak?” You look upwards, mentally counting. “Uh. 8 and a half. I’m still not finished with Ubese,” you say and turn back to face him, a shy smile gracing your face. “Wow. You’re a mirdal’ika,” he tells you, the smile evident in his voice even though you can’t see it through the mask. Separately, the syllables make sense. You understand the direct translation, but it’s odd, and you cock your head to the side as you look down at the Mandalorian- no, Din. “Little clever one?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Yes, well, that’s the direct translation. It’s really more of a slang term.” “For?” “In Basic… I believe the equivalent would be… nerd.” “Din!” You squeal and laugh, smacking his good shoulder lightly with a backhand. “Excuse me, that’s rude,” you chuckle, the smile growing even wider on your face as you look down at him. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you give a soft sigh. “Well, you need to drink that water. I’ll head back up to the cockpit,” you tell him, really meaning to leave this time, the smile falling. Once again, as you stand and try to move, he grabs your arm. “I… I think I’m going to need help with that,” he admits, almost ashamed. “Please. Stay.” You nod, but then realize what it implicates. “No, Din,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t do that to you, you and that helmet, it’s… it’s your everything, I couldn’t possibly-” “Please, cyare,” he asks in his native tongue again, and your heart melts. “I want you to see me. I need you to see me.” Heart pounding, you take a beat before you respond with a nod. You sit down once more, hands slowly tracing up his sides, then his chest and up to the base of his helmet. “You’re sure. Positive,” you ask. “Of course I am.” With a nod, you allow him to bring his hand to the side to unlatch the lock. Once it releases, he lifts his head just above the pillow and you slide off his helmet, catching the back of his head with one hand and easing it back down to the pillow. You make sure the helmet rests on the floor before you finally look at him. He’s gorgeous, truly. His tanned skin, which you saw when cleaning his wounds, is covered with dark stubble and a mustache on the lower half of his face, broken by two plush lips. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you take in his softly hooked nose, his dark eyebrows, his dark and messy hair, but most importantly, his eyes. His eyes are a beautiful chocolate brown, set gently into his face and looking at you like you’re a shimmering supernova, no, something even more beautiful. For a moment, you get caught up staring at him. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Din,” you mumble in Mando’a. He just gives a soft smile and murmurs his thanks. After you finish staring, you shake your head quickly. “Sorry, the water,” you chuckle nervously, turning to grab it from your other side. Din’s hand catches the side of your face. “The water is a secondary need,” he says softly in Mando’a, turning your face back to his. “I took this off for something else.” His eyes hold a question as he looks up at you. You bite your lip for a moment before breaking into a smile and nodding. The Mandalorian pulls your face down to his, and, ever so gently, your lips finally meet, real and warm and absolutely delicious. You sigh softly, putting a hand on the side of his face too. His lips are softer than you’d expected, while yours are just as beautiful as he dreamed about at night. You both continue for a moment, his hand drifting to your neck, completely lost in each other. A moment later, you pull back and giggle. “I have to admit something, Din,” you tell him and lovingly stroke the side of his face. “It better not be that you’re secretly engaged,” he asks teasingly, a soft smile on his face and raising an eyebrow at you. “No,” you laugh and run your hand through his curls, carding your fingers between the surprisingly soft locks. “That…” you gulp and look away before looking back at him. “Was my first kiss,” you admit and bite down on your bottom lip. He laughs softly but there’s love in his eyes. “A girl as beautiful as you never dated when you were younger? Never went out and flirted with her classmates?” You shake your head. “I was generally too busy at home, reading or teaching myself the language of the man who’d eventually be my first kiss.” You both laugh at that and you grin. His hand rests on the side of your face, gently sweeping his thumb across the skin beneath his fingers. “Of course you were. My little mirdal’ika,” he laughs, bringing your face to his to kiss you once more.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #baby yoda #the mandalorian fanfiction #grogu #the mandalorian fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #din and grogu #mando x reader #mando

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Jumping off from my previous question/suggestion, might I please ask if there are any superheroes you think would make fine Pulp Villains and any Supervillains you think would make convincing Pulp Heroes?

I'm gonna go ahead and remark that I'd personally suggest to anyone who's trying to create pulp characters inspired by superheroes (which would be probably about 90% of you who may want to do that sort of thing) to flip the script around a little. As in, don't try to create pulp analogues to the Justice League/Avengers upfront, but play around with some of the lesser-known icons and filter those through your idea of what “pulp” means (which is gonna be quite different than my own or anyone else’s).

I’m not gonna really mention characters I’ve already talked about before like Vandal Savage or Namor, instead I’ll pick new ones and see what can be highlighted about them.

Regarding “Superheroes who could make fine/convincing Pulp Villains”, even though he’s a character I've read basically nothing on, Martian Manhunter definitely leaped out to me as an obvious option. He’s a Sci-Fi Superman who takes the first half of the name to an extreme that borders on comical, except he’s not a square-jawed white man, he’s a 1.000 year old green alien from Mars with shapeshifting powers who can look as monstrous as the artist desires. He’s the product of an advanced civilization and genetic modification, and on top of the Flying Brick powerset and shapeshifting, he also has incredibly powerful and extensive telepathic abilities, he can become invisible, phaze through matter, use telekinesis and other weird abilities. A lot of pulp stories closer to sci-fi were based around the idea of taking one of these abilities and extrapolating horrific consequences for them, and J’onn has those by the dozens. He also has an extremely mundane weakness that would allow him to be beaten by Macready with a blowtorch if that’s where the story ended.

He was also a law enforcement officer from Mars who became a police detective and it’s even right there in his name, and again, I have never read anything he’s in (I should probably pick the Orlando mini), I know he’s for all intents and purposes a generally nice man who tends to job a lot in crossovers and cartoons, but the idea of taking all those great vast and horrifying alien powers, combining all of them into a single character who also happens to be the last survivor of a doomed planet (and one who actually lived through it’s collapse), and then making that character a former cop trying to resume his work on Earth?

That is a Pulp Supervillain begging to happen, and a particularly horrifying one at that. And hey, speaking of The Thing-

Now, Plastic Man’s potential for horror has already been explored quite a bit in some of the darker DC continuities like Injustice and DCeased, and it’s quite funny seeing a lot of these turn Plastic Man into The Thing because there were quite a handful of Wold Newton pages that ran with the idea that Macready from the original story was Doc Savage, and that the secret chemicals that Eel O’Brian was hit by that gave him his powers were actually samples of The Thing contained in one of Savage’s labs. Regardless, the idea of a former street crook suddenly gaining bizarre shapeshifting abilities that allow him to reign terror on his gangster associates could make for a great premise as a pulp crime story that veers into horror as the gangsters gradually figure out what is Eel O’Brian’s deal, and then the story can take a more tragic turn.

The thing about Jack Cole’s Plastic Man that modern takes on the character neglect is that, while Plas was a lively roguish anti-hero (arguably the first of it’s kind in comics), he’s still for intents and purposes “the straight man” (HA, right, Plastic Man being “straight”). He’s the relatively sane hero who plays off Woozy’s wackier misadventures and the imaginative madness that Jack Cole paints his adventures with, and it makes for an interesting contrast considering Plastic Man is already a weird character, having to ramp up the strangeness of the world around him so that he still remains the sane man. There are ways to twist this into something quite horrifying, even tragic for Plastic Man as he either struggles to maintain coherency, or embraces the shifting chaos the world’s spiraling into for better or worse (and definitely for the worse towards those on the receiving end of his vengeance, or even his humor).

Now, onto the flipside, regarding Supervillains that could become Pulp Heroes -

Normally I’d not mention the Batman villains here, because I already have a lot to talk about in regards to them as is, they comprise some of my favorite comic characters, but I pretty much have to make an exception for Two-Face in this topic, as not only a pretty obvious option but one with even case studies to prove it, as not only do we have The Black Bat, a 1930s costumed pulp hero with an identical origin story and several other conceptual overlaps with Batman, as well as The Whisperer, a young hotshot police commissioner who dresses up as a disfigured vigilante to kill criminals without consequence (and who’s somehow less of a maniacal asshole in his secret identity than in his regular one), but it turns out that there actually was a 1910s pulp hero called The Two-Faced Man:

Crewe was created by “Varick Vanardy,” the pseudonym of Frederic van Rensselaer Dey (Nick Carter, Doctor Quartz), and appeared in three short stories and two novels and short story collections from 1914 to 1919, beginning with “That Man Crew” (The Cavalier, Jan. 24, 1914).

Crewe is “The Two-Faced Man.”

He is in his forties and has gray hair and a “sharply cut and handsome profile—until one caught a view of the other side of his face and saw the almost hideous blemish that nearly covered it, and which graduated in corrugated irregularity from a delicate pink to repulsive purple.”

Crewe is two-faced in another way. Crewe is a saloon owner in below Washington Square. But he has another identity: Birge Moreau, portraitist and socialite hanger-on. Crewe uses both his identities to solve crimes as an amateur detective.

The only person to know about both of Crewe’s identities is a police inspector who is also Crewe’s friend and who Crewe helps in pressing cases - The Encyclopedia of Pulp Heores by Jess Nevins

And speaking of obvious picks for Supervillains turned Pulp Heroes,

Assuming I even need to make a case for Kraven the Hunter other than just presenting this cropped panel from Squirrel Girl and in particular the art painted on the Kra-Van, or even just telling you to read Squirrel Girl and it’s take on “The Unhuntable Sergei” (I had no idea most of the people saying “Kraven’s arc in Squirrel Girl is as good if not better than Kraven’s Last Hunt” weren’t actually joking in the slightest and I speak as someone who has Kraven among their absolute favorite Marvel characters, it had no right being that good), I’m going to quote the brilliant Rogue’s Review from The Mindless Ones that lays down in painstaking detail why Kraven could make a killer protagonist in that horrifically over-the-top pulp fashion

One thing that strikes me writing this, is how well Kraven could hold his own comic. There’s always room for a book spotlighting a ruthless, hardcore, gentleman bastard, and Kraven’s raison d’etre makes him supremely versatile, so well suited to any genre, any environment. It’s odd that more writers haven’t jumped on the fact that in a universe where off-world travel is possible – indeed, common – a hunter like Kraven would have a field day.

I can just imagine the opening scene – herds of weird cthuloid bat creatures grazing in the gloomy green nitrogen fields, bathed in lethal, bone splintering fog, when, suddenly, LIGHT! from above and an unholy bellowing: “CTHGRGN fthgrgnARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHGN!”

They look up in fear and then they start to run – ploughing into and over each other, tentacles flailing, as from the space-ship’s docking bay Kraven silently plummets, barely dressed for the cold, a glowing knife smothered in elder signs jammed between his teeth.

You should have seen him one night previous, sipping alien tokay around the Captain’s table with the other guests, discussing the morning’s hunt; and the way he insulted the Skrull dignitary by forgetting himself and accidentally sporting his favourite piece of formal wear: his boiling unstable dinner-jacket of many colours, fashioned from the hide of one of the Ambassador’s super kinsmen.

Whoops!

Midway through Kraven explaining how the best way to irreparably damage a symbiote is to wait until its bonded with you and then seriously maim yourself, the Skrull decided it might be a good idea to simmer down, while his beautiful Inhuman lover hung on every word.

The deeper I get into this the more convinced I am that the MU’s hunter-killer extraordinaire wouldn’t limit himself to bloody planet Earth. And neither would he limit himself to this dimension, or universe or timeline. The guy’d be just as at home leaping, sword raised, onto the back of a T-Rex in the Savage Land, as he would be ploughing through werewolves in the graveyards of Arkham or tracking a howling Demon across Mephistopheles’ realm.

He’d work perfectly in all these environments because he has a damn good reason to be casting a bloody swathe through them: wherever there’s big game, you’ll find Kraven.

The next choice I guess is an oddball, but not that much of an oddball if you know already what is my main frame of reference towards Marvel

I don’t think people appreciate enough that the main reason Shuma-Gorath has anything resembling a fanbase has nothing whatsoever to do with the comics he was in, but entirely because, when Capcom designers had a list of Marvel characters to pick from to work on Marvel Super Heroes, they took a look at the diet Cthulhu and went “gimme THAT one”, and then went all-in in giving the alien squid monster a funky personality along with a great stage and music and animations and all that great fighting game character stuff, and now he’s maybe the most popular Dr Strange villain along with Dormammu and Mordo, despite having ZERO film appearences or major showings in comic sagas.

Capcom's designers redefined Shuma-Gorath from a nebulous cosmic evil into a comically smug cartoon bastard who can rant about devouring all dimensions and souls horrifically while also cracking poses and zingers like “How do you expect to win a fight with only two arms?” and having dinners with Dhalsim or hosting Japanese game shows in his endings, and it kills me that none of this ever made it’s way into any depictions of the character outside of MvC.

So that’s kinda what I’d go with. I’d take Capcom’s Shuma-Gorath, depower him a bit obviously from his canonical power, and run with the premise of his MvC3 ending where he decides that, well, if he's the unlikely savior of this pathetic planet and these wretched human dogs like him so much, and he’s clearly having a much better time here among them than he ever had drifting among the stars cealessly consuming life, then maybe he can take a break from all that eldritch business and keep up hosting the Super Monster Awesome Hour and maybe fight whatever PITIFUL villains think can take HIS planet. I mean, he’ll probably still end up destroying the planet by the end, but why not give this hero business a try?

Just until he gets his full powers back of course.

I mean you can’t deny he DOES look pretty good in that bowtie, surely The Great Shuma-Gorath wouldn’t be so unmerciful as to deny these vile wastes of flesh something good to look at in their brief and miserable lives.

#replies tag #marvel comics #marvel #dc comics #dc #pulp heroes #pulp villains #martian manhunter #plastic man #kraven the hunter #two-face #shuma-gorath #marvel vs capcom

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