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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

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I dont know if your accepting requests right now, but I love your kiddo headcannons. Could you do the Kiddo's reacting to Reiner asking you to marry him? I just really want to know who's going to get excited for the wedding, if any of the kids are going to be upset...your headcannons are just the best!!

Hey! Yes my requests are open, it's written in my bio tho i get it might be confusing. Imma make sure to also write it on the navigation post.

And by the name of persephone this the cutest most wholesome kiddo scenario! How did i not think of that? Just what realm of heaven are you living on Anon? Whatever it is thank you for blessing us with this thought💛

You're with Reiner, he wants to propose but his cousins overhear him.

{ Reiner x reader | tw:marriage tw:proposing tw:parental-neglect tw:heavy-angst | cartoony?, fluff, angst with comfort | modern }

{ The Lanterns, circa 1910 by Charles Courtney Curran 1861-1942 }

"And no opening the door to anyone no matter how sorry you feel for them, okay?" Colt said while adjusting the tie around his neck, making sure it's even as he takes one final look at himself in the mirror before putting on his coat.

"Okay" Falco replied, watching as his brother was getting frustrated with the too many buttons on his coat. "Do you need help?"

Nodding his head, Colt let Falco do his buttons while he reached for the cup of coffee he left on the table, quickly finishing it all. "And make sure to get to bed on time, no staying up reading comic books, you have school tomorrow."

"Don't worry I won't" Falco looked in concern at the empty coffee cup, "isn't this your third one today? I don't think you should be drinking this much..."

"You worry too much Falco, just take care of yourself okay?" Colt rubbed his brother's hair, before patting his head. "I'll text you to check on how you're doing so make sure to charge your phone."

And just like that, Colt wrapped a scarf around his neck, grabbed his keys, and left through the door. Leaving Falco standing there at the entrance, alone in the house.

Looking around the quiet room, Falco picked up the empty cup before washing it in the sink. Just as he was putting it away, the door bell rang.

'Did he forget something?' He thought, wondering if it's his the keys again. But looking at the table, he could see nothing was there.

Wait...Colt did take his keys before leaving, why would he be ringing the doorbell.

The ringing got more frequent, followed by aggressive knocking. Falco took a step back into the kitchen, thinking if he could dash upstairs to get his phone in time.

But he didn't want to trouble his brother...Think Falco think! What would captain america do in this scenario? But Reiner always told him he should think for himself...

And so he grabbed a knife, slowly inching towards the door but then he heard it, that fimilar sound.

"Falco? You in there? It's freezing open the door!"

"Gabi?!" Dropping the knife, Falco rushed to the door. Quickly unlocking it as a very cold looking Gabi stepped inside.

"What took you so long? I can't feel my fingers!" Rubbing her hands together to attempt to warm them up, Gabi glared at Falco.

"Sorry I thought you were a-" he looked away at the knife "uh..anyway let me get you a blanket" before he could rush up the stairs, Gabi pulled him back.

"No there's no time! We have to leave now." Holding his hand, Gabi dragged a very confused Falco out the door and they began making their way to the next destination.

Soon enough, the pair found themselves standing outside Udo's house, directly under his window.

"You still haven't told me why we're here." Falco watched as Gabi was looking for something on the ground, he stiffened when she smiled after picking up a small rock.

"I will tell you once Udo and Zofia are here, it's very important." She handed him the rock. "Now let's focus on getting Udo here, make sure to aim for his window because his mom is a really light sleeper."

"Wait if that's the case then why didn't we go to Zofia's house first? She lives right opposite of mine!" Falco whisper-shouted.

"Because! Neither of us can deal with a sleeping Zofia and you know that, only Udo knows how to wake her up." Gabi explained, crossing her arms while getting impatient. "So hurry up and throw the rock!"

Flaco looked at Udo's window, then at the rock. He looked at Gabi one last time before closing his eyes and throwing it, it made a sound as it hit the window....nothing happened

"Why am I the one throwing the rocks?" He looked anxiously at Udo's dark window, moving his weight from one leg to the other.

"I'm stronger. If i throw it, I'll break the window." Gabi was looking for another rock, having found one slightly bigger than the last. "Here try this one"

Having reunited again, the four of them were walking down the street to Reiner's house late at night. Gabi leading the group, Falco following her reluctantly, Udo keeping a still sleepy Zofia from walking into a wall while in her pajamas.

"This better be good Gabi, otherwise you can forget about copying my math homework for a month." The thought of just turning around and going back home to bed was still in the back of Zofia's mind.

Having almost reached Reiner's house, the four of them could see multiple cars parked outside of it, some of them they recognise.

"See! I told you all it'd be worth it. They're having a secret party without us! I heard Reiner talking about it on the phone with Zeke this morning when I was pretending to be asleep so I don't have to walk home." Gabi said as they sneaked to the side of the house.

"That's mister Zeke's car, miss Annie's and...even Porco's too.." Udo said as they climbed the house fence.

"They invited Porco but not us?" With that information, Zofia was fully awake.

"That's exactly what I've been telling you guys about! Here look!" Standing on her toes, Gabi looked through the window, between the curtains. Three heads joining her soon.

Looking inside, they could see the living room they were so fimilar with, looking really different. For once it wasn't a mess of pillows and candy wrappers! It was actually clean with various candles adding to the atmosphere.

Zeke and Pieck could be seen siting next to each other on the couch, drinking some wine while Colt is in the arm chair next to them with Porco pushing a drink in his hands.

Annie and Bertolt are leaning against the wall, she's holding a plate of donuts while he's talking about something.

Finally, you and Reiner are sitting on the couch opposite to Zeke and Pieck. His hand is around your shoulder and he keeps taking glances behind him at bertolt, while Zeke stares at him from the front.

If you focus, you can hear the muffled sound of music playing in the background.

The four kids watched as Reiner whispered something in your ear, before you noded, got up and headed towards the kitchen. The second you left, all of them crowded at the couch next to Reiner, Talking in hushed tones.

"What...are they doing?" Udo watched as Reiner took out a small red box from his pocket, hands shaking while the people around him leaned in to see what's inside as he opened it.

Quiet gasps and awws followed after as the ring inside came into view, glittering in the dark by the candlelight. Although that only seemed to fluster Reiner even more.

The four of them looked at each other with wide eyes, then back at the ring as Reiner reached out to hold it delicately in his hand for a few seconds as if he's offering it up to the air in front of him, the room got quiet, everyone holding their breaths.

"Oh " Falco said, "i...think i know what's going on." Both Udo and Zofia noded.

"What?" Gabi knitted her eyebrows, tilting her head, "what's going on?"

Before any of them could answer, Zofia told them to keep quiet when she noticed you walking back in the room, the ring back in the box inside Reiner's pocket.

Everyone was now standing, smiles on their faces, even Annie showing one of her rare ones. You were holding a new plate of donuts when you noticed them, with Reiner in the middle, nervous eyes staring right at yours.

Stepping towards you, Annie took the plate before going back to her spot. A few chuckles from Zeke, Bertolt and Pieck followed while Reiner shock his head.

Still outside, the kids saw Reiner start talking about something. Whatever it is, it must have been emotional because everyone in the room was listening with anticipation.

"I can't hear anything" unlocking the window, Gabi opened it just slighly. The muffled sound of music becoming clear as Reiner was finishing his speech.

"And you'd make me the happiest man in the world" he got on one knee, hand taking something out of his pocket. "If we could spend the rest of our lives together and I'll cherish every single moment you're by my side."

He opened the red box, holding the ring in front of you, eyes pleading. "Will you please marry me?"

The second you said yes, Reiner pulled you in the tightest most loving hug in your life, muttering "thank you"s under his breath. You could taste saltiness of his tears when he kissed your lips, still not letting go.

"He's crying" Udo said, feeling his own glasses getting a bit blurred.

"They're kissing." Falco's face was as red as a tomato, covering his blushing face with his hand but looking through his fingers.

"Annie finished all the donuts" was Zofia's comment with a pout.

Gabi's hold on the window got tighter, her lips quivering. "We have to stop them. They can't get married!" And like that, she slammed the window open before climbing inside.

"Gabi! Wait!" Falco tried grabbing her sleeve but was too slow, so he climbed after her into the room.

As expected from two children suddenly breaking in the room through the window, everyone's eyes were on them with surprised expressions.

Looking straight at Reiner, Gabi pulled you away from him before snatching the ring box from his hand. "NO! no one is marrying anyone" with all her might, she threw the box to Falco before telling him to run away.

Having been dragged into the middle of this, Falco looked at Colt's concerned expression, Reiner's confused face and Pieck's amused one. Stepping near Colt, he was about to give him the ring when he saw Gabi's face, making his stop midway.

"Run Falco! Just go!" She yelled, tears streaming down her face, legs shaking. "They can't leave us! Not like our parents did..."

Falco felt his chest tightening, recalling how empty the house feels with just him and Colt being away for work most of the time. How cold it is, unlike the warmth he feels whenever they stay over at your house.

He began tearing up too, holding the box so tightly to his chest.

It was Reiner who made the first move, while everyone was stunned looking at the two crying children. Pulling the both of them to his chest as they sobbed, he wrapped his arm safely around them. He looked at you and you followed in his steps.

After some time and explaining, Colt was comforting Falco while on the couch with Pieck doing the same on his other side. You had Zofia on your lap while she ate some Donuts you stashed away from Annie. Gabi was still clutching to Reiner with Udo on his other side doing the same.

Gabi would take a bite out of a donut, cry a bit then take another bite. Sometimes glancing at the red box on the table.

With time, reassuring words and Zeke making the kids laugh, things slowly got better. Reiner and you completely reassured them that you're never leaving, you love them more than anything in this world. That getting marriage is going to get you even more closer together than anything.

Hearing those words calmed Gabi down, each of them made you make a pinky promise to not replace them ever, same thing to Reiner.

That's when Bertolt brought up the fact you still haven't worn the ring, and it might make them feel better if they were the one to place it on your hand. And that seemed to grab their attention as they began arguing between themselves which one of them should do the honour.

{ The Lanterns, circa 1910 by Charles Courtney Curran 1861-1942 }

Headcanons

Strap in because boi are we in for a ride. These kids went through a lot even in a modern non-war world

They all have an altered negative view on marriage, especially Gabi and Falco.

Both of Falco's parents are deceased, he lives alone with Colt who's trying his hardest to work and take care of both of them, of course Zeke and Pieck help a lot too and try to be his stand in parents.

He knows about love and how good it is, he just thinks marriage would mean you and Reiner might also go away.

Gabi's parents are alive and well, they're just rarely in her life. She's an alone child with no siblings, so far Reiner has been her only relative that she counts as family.

Her parents often leave her at her aunt's house whenever they go on a trip away, or as she started getting older, alone in the house. It gave her a lot of freedom but also a misguided and neglectful life.

Reiner has been trying to fill both roles of her parents for her, and when you came along it was like a dream coming true, she suddenly has someone who truly cares for her being and loves her unconditionally.

So when she heard you were getting married, something in her snapped and fears about you both leaving her too just like her parents clouded her mind.

Udo and Zofia both have their moms only, they bond over it. In Udo's case it was after his father passed away in an accident that his mother became really overprotective and Borderline overbearing.

She's worried about everything, he feels like it's his fault somehow and can't help but copy her anxiety and paranoia.

When he heard about you getting married, he felt a sting of pain and guilt, like he's getting in the way and it never was his real family to begin with.

Zofia's mom is another case, her dad left them when she was younger without a word. Her mother lost trust in anyone after that and was emotionally unavailable.

She saw how hurt her mother was over her dad, she wanted to be strong for her mom and never have to depend on anyone.

So when she heard you were getting married, a sense of dread filled her at realising one of you will hurt the other somehow and she will have to be strong on her own again.

The four of them looked up to you both, were loved and cherished by you both like they've longed for so long.

They fear losing you, they fear losing the warmth, love and care you showed them.

So take it slow with them please, they've been hurt a lot. They don't mean to be ungrateful or rude they're just kids who are terrfied.

Be paitent and slowly introduce them to marriage in a new light, let them grief over their own parents in a healthy way while comforting them. Make them feel included in the planning and wedding and everything and I promise you they'll be fighting for the flower girl spot at the wedding if you just take it slow and gentle.

Yes even Falco and Udo want to be the flower girl.

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blackcherrykiss · 3 years

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BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.5)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] previous chapters

[CH.6] next chapter (now available!)

genre: vampire au, romance, drama, mystery, thriller

note: written inspired by enhypen's storyline, given-taken lyrics & teasers. please keep in mind all members are apart of this fanfic and the main theme is mystery/drama!

P.S Niki and Sunoo's roles become bigger in later chapters :) sorry I took 2 weeks to update. School + new enhypen teasers made me alter the story now jesus their lore is confusingly interesting. Didn't proofread half of this chapter LOL. Happy readings <3

"Well now that everyone is here, I'd like to announce we have a new student who just transferred here." Your eyes were immediately drawn to the student's platinum blonde hair. Despite his sharp and charismatic face, his eyes were delicate and innocent. He had an exceptionally small face and a sunkissed skin tone. The new student snapped himself around so that the entire classroom got a good look at him, "Hello, my name is Park Jongseong or Jay, call me whatever you feel." He bowed slightly, his voice having a cool ring that played over in your head.

"Everybody please welcome Jay to our astronomy class. Lend him any of our previous notes because midterms are coming up and I'd appreciate as a teacher if you guys helped him catch up before our long weekend coming up in two weeks." Your teacher gave a warm smile, nodding in such a way that made the rest of the class nod with her.

Without a student saying a word, everyone's eyes followed him as he took a seat at a desk a couple of rows in front of you.

You stared at him tirelessly, barely listening as your teacher rambled off-topic. You noticed Jay often stared out at the crying sky that occasionally flickered with lightning. His eyes focused intently on the woods. You were sure you weren't the only one who was interested in the new boy as you frequently caught other students glancing over at him every few seconds. Jay carried an attractive and dark aura that clearly contrasted from the crowd. Both girls and boys stared at him not because of his pretty face but because he was far different from the new students who had joined your school mid-semester.

The class flew by for you because of Jay until a simple but intriguing question was purposed by the teacher, "Bonus marks today if anyone can guess when the next full moon is." she lifted her eyes off the projector for a few moments, waiting for answers to come sailing.

"Saturday?" Somebody from the front called out, followed by numerous answers that ranged between the second week to the fourth week of the month.

"Come on now. Don't blurt out, give others chances to guess. Jay why don't you guess?" Your teacher questioned welcomingly, expecting no answer from him.

He leaned back in his chair, scraping the non-writing end of his ballpen on his thumb, "November 30." A gentle sound of thunder playing perfectly when he said the answer; like some sort of scene out of a comic.

"Ding ding ding!" Your teacher switched to a PowerPoint slide with the new unit name bolded, "I know this isn't part of the curriculum but I got it approved by the head of the school." She took a breath, giving students time to comprehend what was presented in front of them. "Our next unit will be looking deeper at the moon. More specifically, we'll be looking at both the sciency and non-sciency sides of this topic. And before anyone asks; no, you don't need to believe in astrology or superstitions to understand the non-sciency material. It's just very fascinating because it connects to many cultures." Your attention was now far away from Jay. You were enthusiastic about a topic for once in the class.

"And looks like we're running out of time." Your teacher's wrist clock blocking her eyes. "That's it for today's class everyone! I'll have your projects marked for next class, I promise! Have a good day." She said while shutting off the projector.

You slid all your handouts into your binder, not bothering to align the three-hole punches of the papers to their designated rings.

"Y/N before you go, do you mind helping out Jay? Today or tomorrow?" Your teacher stopped you on your way out.

"Like lend him my notes?"

"Yep! I just forgot to ask but he just left so you might be able to catch up to him. Maybe ask if he's got the notes yet."

You waved your goodbyes and chased the new boy down, his uniquely blonde hair standing out from the hallway of heads. You picked up the pace to catch up with his swift steps when you caught him chatting with Sunghoon and Jaeyun. Your feet froze straight down in their place.

Were they new friends? Or perhaps they were old friends?

You weren't going to bother talking to Jay as you already knew what kind of funny business would come up if you did. You could only watch them swing and lean their arms against each other in a close and friendly way. The picture was becoming more and more clear to you as to what kind of association Jay had with Sunghoon and Jaeyun perhaps even Heeseung, Sunoo or Jungwon.

...

You throw yourself violently over your thick mattress after finishing a long study and homework session at your dorm. The session wasn't productive but the time you spent surrounded by your schoolwork made it feel that way. Your dorm was awfully quiet that afternoon as your dormmates had music rehearsals for their extracurriculars. Nana had told you to come by the music rooms around a quarter past five when their practice was over to go down to the dining hall and have dinner but you couldn't think of a way to kill your remaining hour alone.

Phones were forbidden in your school and you often felt uncontrollably alone and bored with your thoughts during your free time. You could only lay tangled in your bed with your half progressed work in the corner of your eye. You shift on one side to watch your wide-open binder until you got some burst of motivation to finish studying until an idea hits you.

After eyeing your handouts from your astronomy class, you decide to hit the library and do some reading to get a little advanced in the class. Sure you could study for your other class but the sudden idea was far more worth your time in your mind. You quickly twirl out of your room, clearing your desk while you're at it. Excitedly, you hop into your shoes and head straight for the library. You were put in a good mood as you skipped along the long journey to the bookhouse.

The library was moderately packed as you don't bother to recognize any faces there. You get deja vu as you trail the same path you did when Sunghoon and Kyungeun were around. Sliding between the thin space between the bookshelves once again, you search for the section related to the moon, feeling dizzy at the sight of books your school owned. You could've made your life easier by asking the librarian but you were confident you could find it on your own. You move up and down the aisles as you catch a glimpse of theoretical and astrology related books that sit next to a couple of history books.

Backing up, you awkwardly bend your knees forward to get a better look at the small selection of books under the genre. You peel a random book spine out from its tight spot as if it had never been taken out before. You dust off the book a bit, reading the wordless cover and open it to check if it was really related to any sort of astronomy as you find a much stranger subject being discussed.

"Finding everything alright?" The librarian comes by, pushing a kart from the other end of the shelves. "I-I'm looking for books related to the moon." You say, standing up and forgetting you still had the old book in hand.

"The scientific information is just on the other side of this shelf but the section you were just looking at has some interesting stuff that might be related." The librarian stuffed herself in between the shelves to get toward you.

"Yeah, I noticed... This book I just picked up was talking about vampires." You laugh a little as you hold it up.

"Ah, that book..." She paused, snatching the book out of your hands to examine it, "I read this before... It relates to astrology. I think there are some parts of the book that go into detail about the moon, you should give it a read."

"Is this book just theoretical research about vampires though?" You were unconvinced with the idea.

"Yeah, real or not, our school grounds and the neighbouring town are talked about in the book. Apparently many years ago this place used to be a hotspot for vampires." She looked you dead in the eyes.

"Do you think the information is true?" You questioned with deep curiosity upon her answer.

"Some information in there is haunting. I think vampires did exist." She said with some sort of distress beginning to seep into her face.

Shivers ran down your spine, if she was just trying to sell you the book, it was working damn well on you.

"I'll leave you be, no need to sign out the book, nobody ever takes it out so I trust you'll return it." And with that said, she left you cold with mystery as the book between your fingers stared at you with big round eyes.

You shake back to reality, checking your wrist just to find out your time has vanished. You shift your priorities to getting to the music department, throwing the book into your bag without much thought.

...

The sun was already going down around the afternoon as the days got shorter with autumn blossoming. You're standing between rooms full of beautiful voices and instruments, peering through every window attached to a door in an attempt to find your roommates. The issue was the widows didn't give much of a view as to who was in the rooms. But your ears were drawn to a gentle piano that played a bittersweet melody beneath the louder sounds of people singing in a harmonious glee. As you move in the forward direction of the hallway, the piano gets clearer to your ears. It became clear that the sound was coming out of a room with its door wide open. Your back attached it to the wall in fear of being seen as slide yourself until you meet the spine of the door where you could see into the shadowy room.

Your eyes lit up when they see a familiar platinum blondie behind the keys. The melody was enchanting and was played in such a personal way as the sounds escaped into the noisy environment where it hoped to go unheard. Jay had reached the final notes of his song as he turned his head in your direction. It was as if he knew of your present from the moment you started watching him from the doorway.

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aineryeo · 3 years

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Sweet Tea ௹ OSAMU

Sweet Hibiscus Tea — Better Twin. 🍵

SYNOPSIS: You are not a protagonist but your best friend definitely is. When will you ever be, sweet little side-character? » 6.2k Words

THEME: A li'l bit of a slow burn love story, angst, just a treat as my first fic in a year. | Bit of profanity, cussin', teen drama. And use of dialogue references!

NOTE: Low-key felt like this was crap, rip. I still love you so much ‘Samu :( I may have not written this the best

If you were to think of what your role in life was, you were sure you were a comic relief character, and your screen time was just cut short because the viewers in the show you call, “Life” are not giving you the best reviews. With the amount of times you felt like you were cycling through all your days the same, waking up… Waking.. Up.. Wake— Yeah, that was about it.

Everything else was an objective agenda. You were a sufficient klutz, whatever that paper was. You ponder, in your inner monologue while you’re tapping your push-pen on your school desk in Inarizaki.

“— And we’ll be designing our own living rooms as part of the Course Outline for Interior Studies in the general subject.”

You had a best friend, continuing to ignore the incessant babbles, you say as you write a little note to remind yourself to think of a living room design to finish the work quickly later. You had a best friend, who you can easily say is the main character of life. You swear, as she sat close to the window, and how she wasn’t mean, she was charming; it was so hard not to like her. But she’s also insecure, keeps to herself enough, having you by her side.

“Hear that ‘Samu?”

“What now, ‘Sumu?”

“Interior Designin’! Weren’t ya listenin’ ya scrub.” Bleach-blonde hair.“What about it?” Disinterest; Bleached hair too, but ash-grey.

“Ain’t Kori-Kori real good at stuff like this?”

You observed the two famed twins of Inarizaki High. Actually no, you were forced to; how? Well, you sat between them, not like that ever stopped anyone, nor did it ever interfere with your boring experience of being a 2nd mid-year Senior. You just wanted to get up, and leave, get a job or something; not going to lie.

“Is there anyone talking at the back right there? Anything the class would like to hear, pretty sure.” Professor said, which immediately shut the two up, the other was blatant and oblivious, even whistling.

“Guessed so.” Your professor went on right after.

Your chin was resting on the heel of your palm now, but you felt someone roughly, no really, they roughly tapped your shoulder, the touch was from a clearly heavy hand. It came from your right, which was…

“Hey missy, pass this on to my brother, will ‘ya?” He grinned widely, his other hand that held the pen used to write a note in the torn paper from his notebook that most likely didn’t have any notes despite it being mid-year. You let out a bit of a grunt, not moving from your position, but you did use your hand that was tapping your table to pass it on to the other Miya without sparing a glance.

“...”

Your arm was about to die.

You turned to the other Miya, a small frown on your face as he ignored your outstretched hand, his eyes were closed, arms crossed but he was definitely not sleeping, it was obvious enough. So you tried to aggressively wave your arm that held the letter while keeping an eye on the doting teacher upfront, trying not to be obvious. His brother had noticed that he was ignoring you as well, shrugging when your frown deepened, back straightening on your desk, your free hand now tapping on your table instead of being a rest for your head.

“Hey ‘Samu ‘ya jerk…!” Atsumu whispered, a volume tad higher, to his brother who proceeded to ignore him; and technically, you too.

You groaned and ignored the two, equally annoying twins that are involving you into a situation you don’t want to get involved in. So you just slammed, actually no, not slammed exactly but you did harshly place the torn paper that contained some unnamed letter from Atsumu directed to Osamu. Wistfully, this was noticed by your professor.

“Y/N. I believe it’s been made clear that passing notes is not allowed in my class, rather, on any occasion that involves other subjects as well.” They scolded.

You sucked a breath in between your teeth, your hand ran through your hair in an attempt to calm you down. “Switch seats with Yokori. This seating will last ‘till the end of the year, ‘lest you misbehave again. This applies to everyone else who has been swapped constantly.”

Yokori gave you a solemn smile, knowing you hated this, she gathered her belongings and quickly sat to avoid any more trouble; even opting to give you a pat on your shoulder on the way to her desk near the window, though not quite beside. One classmate separated you from being directly beside the scenery of school grounds that held the gym where your schools’ famous volleyball team resides for practices. Actually, this classmate was one of their players, Suna Rintaro? Your impression on him was that he was quiet… Enough, if not provoked or talked to at all, which you guessed was part of your luck. Because you were definitely not going to talk to him, less it required you to by any of your classes together.

So you sat, your professor continued, and your eyes landed on your best friend that sat on your previous seat, since your first year of middle school. Bored expression on once again, your thoughts dialed back, and you noticed a quick interaction from Atsumu towards your best friend who flushed slightly from the two’s attention, noticing that even the twin who ignored you earlier began perking up, just a little bit. And the feeling was slight but you felt a tinge of annoyance, proceeding to push it to the back of your mind, not letting the feelings against your best friend surface. Because she was good, and undeserving of it, obviously.

The bell rang, it was time for lunch!

Lunch is a happy time, because you can buy yourself chocolate, and you can, well, eat lunch. What else is there for? You were bored out of your mind at home after doing your homework, and studying enough for the day so you practiced cooking. Which you admit, was very enjoyable, especially when you finish. Today was tuna sushi rolls, seaweed-strapped spam meat, seasoned rice, and hot tamarind soup in your insulating tumbler. You didn’t notice light gray irisess eyeing you in your little daydream about your lunch for today.

“Y/N, you good?” Yokori, said best friend went next to you, who had just finished gathering your lunch bag. You nodded, smile small. “Yep, let’s go.”

The class dispersed quickly, you two walked side-by-side as she timidly told you a story about her situation earlier.

“So Atsumu-san was passing notes to his brother Osamu, right? T’was so weird because they kept asking me questions, but Atsumu-san was nice, he wanted help with that Interior Designing project we have going on.” She laughed, scratching her cheek. You nodded along to her story, she was used to your rather quiet demeanor, she knew you were still listening. “They said it’d be cool to attend their after-school volleyball practice.”

“Mmh. Really? They’re annoying though.” You humored her, to which she chuckled.

“I mean… It shouldn’t be bad to try it, right?” She said with a big grin, bright.

You jutted your lips forward as you bobbed your head in agreement, already taking your chopsticks and lunch out when you found a free table. “I guess so.” You said, mouth chewing on a roll.

You pour a portion of soup to get the food down your throat onto your tumbler’s cap that serves as the cup, and drank, “So I told them you’re coming with me, I’d be too nervous by myself… Hehe..” and spat.

“Kori, what?”

“Come with me…” She looked at you, nervously smiling with her eyebrows raised in mock questioning, “-please.”

“Okay.”

“I promise, I’ll ask you next ti— wait, really? Holy shit, Y/N, thank you! I’ll pay you back, for sure. I didn’t expect you to agree quickly, d’you have a crush on any of the VBC members, perhaps?” She teased.

You were eating continually, mouth full of rice as you pointed your metal chopsticks toward her. Speaking with your mouth full, “I don’t think there was any point trying to say no if I’d say yes in the end anyway. It already happened, what can I really do?”

She nodded in understanding, you were always like this, relaxed about what happened around. It was worth idolizing, at least. Your head felt like it was burning, the back, you mean. Was someone staring?

You were now sitting outside of the gym, deciding to hang around outside instead of watching sweaty boys play for hours. Kori became more relaxed, so you took the go-mark and asked to leave when you noticed that she was. The team was fond of her, you note, Shinsuke Kita the Captain even thanking her for thinking of buying them snacks and helping them around with their manager to fill up the boys’ water bottles. The team gave her attention and copied their captain in terms of providing gratification for her deeds. You heard her ‘lax conversation next to the banter with the twins that was a normal recurrence.

You were simply a drifting particle, a bystander.

Actually wait, you remembered that you had packed yourself a little snack in case you had to stay in school for some surprise activity you forgot about, or situations like this exactly. So you took out your little box of homemade onigiris, not noticing the figure looming at the door. It was their break, and you were about to bite.

“Hey, that yours?” You hear, stopping your bite mid-way, turning your head to see ash-grey.

“Huh.”

“Ya deaf or what, missy?” The nerve.

You looked at him, and bit on the prism-shaped rice, then looked forward once again, closing your eyes even. ‘Till you heard shuffling and a sleazy figure sitting next to yours. That was when you opened your eyes, mouth slightly agape. Osamu Miya, sat next to you, his legs spread, and his arms were holding his whole posture as his head faced yours.

“If yer gonna look at me like that, the least ya could do is gimme one, little miss.”

You shook your head and swallowed. “Stop calling me little miss, old man.”

“Hoho, old man?” He says, humoring you, you can smell his cologne from here, mixed with sweat from his practice. He leaned forward, his arms now intertwining, resting on his knees, he was facing you with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’d call you shit hair but your hair ain’t the color.” You shrugged, but it was the type of shrug where you slightly move your hands outward. So when you did, the hand that held your bitten snack was when the big fox ate his fill. “Mm, tastes good.”

“Fucki-” You screeched. His eyes went wide when you just shoved the onigiri in his mouth, “It has your germs now, better not choke, gran’pa.”

Osamu was trying to give you a snide reply back but he couldn’t, with the rice stuck in, he just kept chewing. As you stood up and yelled to Kori that you were leaving. You were a side character, nothing more, you thought; as you walked away from the boy who had tried reaching to you, but you failed to notice.

“So… He invited me to their house to hang out.” Yokori said happily on the phone, you were trying to sketch a few designs you felt like doing so hummed, already quite satisfied, spinning on your chair right after. “So…”

“No.”

“But I haven’t said anything yet!”

“You were about to ask me if I can come with you because you’re nervous to go alone, the usual, hm?”

“...”

“Hm?”

“...Yes.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“N-”

“I’ll order you takeout pizza!”

“...Okay.”

You heard her cheering yes! On the other line, to which you just slumped in your chair to. And so, the day came and you were right behind Kori, who was knocking on the Miya residence as of the moment. The one who greeted the both of you was Osamu Miya, you internally groaned, their parents were off, you heard.

“Tsumu!” Your best friend smiles, greeting the other twin brightly; and smiling so wide at the twin at the door. “Hello ‘Samu!” She said, before the blonde had pushed past the door to beam at her.

“Brought your li’l friend along, cutie?” Atsumu jokes, rustling your friend’s hair before beckoning the two of you to come in. You walk past Osamu who you had mild grudges with. Your friend turned to you, “I’ll be helping Atsumu with some plates for the project, we’ll be up in his room!” She said, innocently.

“Mmh, okay. I’ll stay here?” You asked, more to yourself, you didn’t really know where to stay. This wasn’t your place.

“Accommodate the guest ‘Samu, I need’a do important school stuff.” Atsumu waved off as the two walked up the stairs on the way to the boy’s room, pretty sure. You stood there in the middle for a couple minutes, unsure. The renowned ‘less annoying’ Miya was sitting on one of their kitchen stools, his cheek digging into his palm, just staring at you. You stared back. He stared back. You were both staring.

You broke. “Not gonna let me sit, or anything?”

“Sit anywhere or something.” He droned, still looking at you. He was enjoying it.

So you looked at the couch beside you, then spared a glance at him, about to sit until he spoke again, “Hmm, not there.” He said in his low voice that contained an underline of mockery, you were sure. Though to him, it was simply amusing, to watch you that is. If anyone outside the two of your observing based gazes, he was actually sporting a noticeable smile. A small triangle smile, as if he was shy to make it any bigger, in hopes of hiding something.

You tried the two other chairs, the floor, leaning on a wall, but it was all a reject. You were embarrassed every time. Did you really have to go through all this just to get takeout pizza? You’d have to ask more later, that's for sure. So you tried for a last option, there was a tall stool right beside his, and well, three others far from him. So you tried the farthest tall stool from him, which was the far left. He shook his head no, you furrowed your eyebrows, you moved to the second stool, still no? Every move made your head wrinkle further down ‘till you reached the last seat, right next to him. To which he finally said, “Got it, pretty girl.” with a big boyish grin.

You didn’t have time to react to the nickname before finally letting out a sigh as you stretched your arms, and legs before laying your head on your arms that were resting on the table in front. That whole interaction probably took at least half an hour, you didn’t really know, you didn’t have a watch. “Pretty, my ass.”

He hummed, resting his head on his arms as well, though he was facing you. “Yer ass is.”

“The fuck.”

“Ya got a bad mouth.”

You groaned, and buried your face in your arms. Wanting to escape this. But you were lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t subconsciously enjoy his attention. You weren’t used to it, you weren’t supposed to feel this, right? It wasn’t, it just, it’s not you. Right? You shook your head to which the boy watched you do, getting your head up, posture straight and looking at him. He looked back, like he always seems to do.

“What do you want from me?” You say.

Osamu kept his mouth shut, still looking into you, thinking of what to say. Unwilling himself to tell you what he’d rather. So he asked a question, “D’ya cook?”

“Yeah, I make my own lunch and snacks.” You said, wary. Already feeling suspicious, you raise both your brows.

“Let’s cook.” He suggests.

Here’s the thing, you can’t do anything right if someone’s watching you too intently. It feels awkward, who in their right mind is able to do this right when he’s gripping your wrist that was stirring the batter for what the both of you decided to make, muffins.

“Ya gotta put in the right amount of strength.” He instructed.

“I’m starting to regret mentioning that I don’t bake often.” You thought, you thought you just thought that it was only in your thoughts. Oh no, you were becoming redundant, was it always this hot?

“Yer burnin’ figuratively, and literally. By that, your eyeballs are wide as fuck.” Osamu pointed out, he was biting his lip, to keep from a wide smile. “Tryna bake with yer hot gaze?”

What? “Huh.”

Now Osamu had wide eyes, I think it came off more sultry than intended. So he moved away from you as if you were burning his skin, though technically, you really were. Playing it cool. “What?”

“My what.”

“Yer… What?”

You were staring at him with a confused expression, about to open your mouth when, “Hey scrub! Make me a snack, I’m starvin’ over here.” Atsumu yelled from the room, you heard Kori’s small laugh and a faint, “Don’t be so mean, ‘Tsum.”

“Right. Let’s put ‘em in the tray then straight to the oven, yeah?” Osamu started, standing next to you, his face was not quite visible due to his wide shoulders, if you knew better, he might be obstructing your vision to not see the steaming heat from his ears. Spoiler, you did. But you chose not to poke at a sleeping bear.

“You sick? Got red ears?” You poked at a sleeping bear.

Actually, you were expecting a snark reply, it was easier that way. Just be sarcastic back. It was when the both of you were done, and placed the tray containing the muffin batter in the oven to bake, did Osamu dip his index finger in the bowl of slightly empty batter, facing you, and licking it off his finger. You really tried, you did; you tried not to look at the way he did that so unabashed. Dipping the same finger on the last remaining batter before menacingly leaning closer to you, inches from your face. If you could measure it exactly, 2.8 inches? So close.

Your weight moved from the heel of your foot to the front, again and again, what was he doing?

“What are you—?” You began before you got cut off by his finger wiping the batter on your lips, it made it look like you had a mustache. You stood there surprised for a few seconds, not knowing how to react, and hated how you expected something so different. It was until you heard a click of a camera and a low chuckle vibrate from the boy in front of you that you took the few remaining flour that was right in your reach to throw it in front of his face, making a huge fog of flour. He coughed for a bit, his eyes were glistening as he took the bowl next to him, using his whole hand to wipe leftover batter, getting ready to chase you.

You noticed. So you ran, but not without screaming, the leftover flour bag in your hand.

“No, please,”

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” He replied breathily, both of you were circling the kitchen island.

It took a good ten minutes before he decided to jump the island, and ran to quickly get hold of you with both of his arms, his hair tickling the side of your neck which made you laugh too hard, flour was all over his hair and apron, you failed to notice the handprint of batter right on your chest because you were struggling so hard to get off his grip. He was laughing too, you put on your scowling face, though not really mad, to face him, who in turn faced you as well. You didn’t notice the distance between the two of you was nearly non-existent; I repeat, nearly.

“Hey ‘Samu! I’m starvin’ and I smell yer bakin way over in my room.” You heard quick footsteps down the stairs, which made you jump in your skin. But even with that speed, you were still caught. Because Atsumu had an unreadable expression, “This place is a mess! Did we interrupt too early, hm?” Kori taking a peek right behind Atsumu.

You heard a dry cough from the other twin, facing the other direction, you facing the other as well. None of you spoke in time, so you took it. “No, uh, we weren’t, nothing was happening.”

“The scene of the crime is proof!” Atsumu pushed, teasing, as he continued his way down next to Kori.

“Shut it ‘ya scrub.”

“Yer the scrub, scrub.” They started bickering, real easy like that, trying to beat each other up. You noticed Kori walking down the stairs as well, first with an expression you couldn’t quite place, as if she was thinking deeply. But when she noticed you looking, she quickly changed into a bright smile, even sporting a blush, ready to tell a story about what happened behind the closed doors of Atsumu’s bedroom.

The day ended quickly after that, Osamu forced Atsumu to help the both of you to clean the kitchen while Kori volunteered to. It continued on like that, Kori dragging you into one of her meetings with Atsumu, you complaining but coming anyway, and you end up stuck with Osamu as she goes to her rendezvous with Atsumu that at this point, you have no idea what they’re doing. You just tag along.

Right now, you were beside Osamu in the gym during their break from training. Near the door, his teammates a good few distance away as he sat on a bench with his usual posture. Slumped back, his arms arching, one behind you that you fail to think of anything. Just as a general position. You were voicing out a thought you had in a while, seriously.

“So I was balls deep into ghosts way back—”

He looked at you, disgusted. “GROSS,” Shoving you lightly, “God, please never, ever say ‘balls deep in ghosts’ to anyone ever again. I feel like washin’ my mouth having to repeat that.” He even added this mild shudder that was just an exaggeration.

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t really want to think about anyone having sex with a ghost.”

“Huh, who said anything about ghost sex?”

“You did, Y/N! Just now!”

“I didn’t—Oh, holy shit. No. Oh no.”

“What?”

“Does ‘balls deep’ not mean you’re standing in, like, the shallow end of the pool, metaphorically. Like up to your balls or something.”

“No! Balls deep is—It’s…”

“Balls deep is…”

“Why are you two talking about balls?” Suna interjected, acting as if he was just hearing about your conversation now. He was actually listening since the start, noticing the short distance between the both of you, interest hiding behind his eyes. “Balls, as in, dick or something? That’s wild.”

“Suna, no!” You screeched.

Osamu was biting back a laugh. The team was watching the three of you converse, getting used to the sight of you with their teammate. Assuming other things up the clouds. Atsumu was watching his brother with hawk eyes, and so was the girl next to him, Kori, though she was looking at you. If Suna was being honest, he didn’t notice any form of chemistry between your friend and the piss haired twin. They were all smiles and bright, but they always looked like they were thinking of something different. Though he doesn’t know anything about it.

Practice ended. It’s been months, and your interactions with Osamu have gotten more laxed. Your thoughts about being nothing more than a side-character was starting to change, because with him, you felt that you were a number one choice. You felt that you were a main character. Osamu felt the same, being with you felt like time was moving too fast and he wanted to spend it more with you, he was becoming insatiable. With you, he didn’t feel second to his brother for once. Lingering touches, his hand forgetting to unhook from yours, and his arm slinking around your shoulders as he yawns and asks for one of your homemade snacks as he starts to make some after-school snacks to give back to you.

You were invading his mind as much as he was invading yours. Sitting next to you during lunch, asking what’s in your bento, vice versa. Why was everything sailing so smooth? It was like it was just him and you. You heard rumors from the Miya fans that they were thinking you were Osamu Miya’s girlfriend. Forgetting your inferiority, sometimes the universe was just cruel, so it had to humble you.

“Atsumu and I broke up.” Kori sobbed.

Not to you, but to Osamu. You gripped your bag’s strap tightly. You peeled your lip with your teeth until the middle bled, so you sucked in the pain. No, you were not the protagonist. You weren’t, you never will be, and you never are in the past, present, and future. So you sucked in a breath to collect yourself, seeing Osamu pat the girl to attempt and comfort her, badmouthing his brother. “Sorry,” Her first gripped his shirt tighter.

“Osamu, please. It’s—I always liked you. It was just you.”

She wasn’t a bad person. She wasn’t, but why? You wanted to hit her, that, or jump off a building and die. None of them noticed you yet, at least that’s what you thought, but the sobbing girl had already seen you before she started bawling, and the other twin was forced to give her a tight, but awkward hug.

“Yokori… I liked you.”

You were about to walk to them normally after licking your lips from the blood, wanting to appear as a third party, to not let this happen. It just can’t. but you were pulled back by your collar. Who—

“Atsumu?”

He put his index finger in front of his lips to silence you, “Shh.”

So you followed him confused, he held your hand away from the scene. Leading you to the gates, the school half-empty, their practice about to start in half an hour or so. “Atsumu, why?” You croaked.

He had his eyes widened a bit, why? Actually, why did he pull you from that scene? His other hand that didn’t hold yours, which you didn’t bother to remove with the energy seeping out of your body quickly; it was taking everything in you not to break down. It went to his nape, rubbing it in question to himself, why? It was just that, seeing you staring at a scene when he knew you liked his brother, at a scene too painful, for a best friend who was just trying to do their paper, he knew. So his arms safely wrapped around you as you stared dead into his eyes, looking at his features that resembled the other who had unknowingly captured your heart.

Your bleeding lip trembled, your eyes turned glossy of the tears held back, Atsumu looked at you, empathetic. He broke up with your best friend because he couldn’t see it happen, every time he saw you with his brother, that wasn’t what they both had. They were simply not meant to be, and he was fine, he just didn’t know, but he was glad that because of it, he found out that she liked his brother more than she did him. He’d be angry, he should be, for his sake, but he wasn’t angry for him, he was angry for you.

He hid your face into his chest instead. You didn’t sob, solely because you thought you didn’t deserve to. But you cried, you let your tears soak in, “You look like him too much.”

“Shhh, I know—” Sigh. “It’s okay. You don’t have to look at me.” He said, trying his best to comfort you, caressing your hair. As a pair of grey eyes watched the scene from a distance, unable to hear, but able to see. Maybe he saw too much as he grimaced.

Osamu tried his best not to punch his brother right in the jaw, or push him away so he could yell everything he’d kept cooped up inside before you came running along, turning monochrome into a saturated-vision of the world. His teeth were pressing down on each other hard enough, he thought it might break, and shatter, just like his heart did. Of course, you chose his brother. Everyone always does. Every time he thinks he’s got it all, it’s all swiped underneath by his twin. Everyone says that it wasn’t their talents, or skills in volleyball that was the greatest gift they had ever received in life. It was their twin. But right now, he just thinks he was a curse he had to always deal with.

He jolted as he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Suna.

“Practice. Kita’s calling. Call your brother.” The ever-observant boy runs over as he scans the scene, and hisses as he sees you wrapped in his brother’s arms. Though he knew more than that, he had first-class seats to this theatrical after all. But he’d rather not be part of the act club, it wasn’t his forte.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Osamu replied, briefly. A bit tense, still.

He looked back to Atsumu who had let you go, and you who were walking away already. On the way to your home, he was sure. But he can’t help but cringe, thinking of it as your way of walking away from him.

“Practice! ‘Sumu!” He yelled, devoid of anything.

You jolted, you were a bit far but he yelled really loud you could still hear it. This didn’t go unnoticed by him, but you were both overcome by swirling emotions that stopped both of you to do the bare minimum, smile and wave, no after-school snacks. Atsumu jogged towards them, not noticing his brother’s attempt at hiding his huge frown. Practice was hell for Osamu, he didn’t want to see his brother right now, not when he still thinks of your precious little form hugging his brother’s, not his.

When his brother accidentally served a ball hitting Osamu behind the head, it was more of a switch for his anger; his rage.

“Fucking hell.” He said, turning viciously towards his brother who was uttering lighthearted apologies. It wasn’t until he started stalking towards Atsumu did the team start watching them like hawks, Aran thinking it’s just another one of their silly fights. But that thought was cut off when Osamu suddenly launched a fist towards Atsumu. “Ya just get off on this, huh? Ya get off on giving me bullshit every time.”

“Woah, ‘Samu I said I was sorry. What the fuck.” Atsumu said, brows furrowed, voice starting to get scratchy at his brother’s tight grip on the collar of his shirt. His hand quickly gripped his brother’s wrist tied to his shirt, attempting to get it off him, starting to get riled up from getting hit out of nowhere. “What’s your fuckin’ problem?” He said, about to kick his brother off of him.

“You. You just took everything from me, ‘Sumu. You took them.”

Osamu breathed heavily as Kita instructed the team to peel the twins away from each other as this wasn’t one of their silly fights at all. It held other issues. The captain knew that practice wouldn’t be able to continue like this, so he made them do drills before allowing them to go home. Looking pointedly at the Miya’s. The two brothers did what they were told to, going off to do their drills, and getting ready to go home.

They were walking silently side-by-side, both faces covered with a frown, Atsumu’s face having a bruise by the jaw whilst Samu didn’t have a scratch, only because Atsumu was realizing where it all came from.

“Did ya see?”

“Fuck you.”

“Look— It’s not what ya think, ya idiot.” Atsumu started, Osamu raised his brow at his brother. “I don’t want to say anything. Figure things out yourself, scrub.” Then the blonde started walking faster, leaving his brother behind to ponder.

The next day came by, he tried calling you but it never got through. Did you block him? What did he do? Did you really get repulsed by him to avoid him to that extent? That involved his texts getting left unanswered. You didn’t come to school today, he asked Kori, who he had rejected yesterday, and who was supposed to know about you more than he did. Though he was aware that you often felt inferior to her, as he told you the same about his brother, it was a feeling that you two were all too familiar with.

“I don’t know where she is, I’m sorry. She’s not talking to me either.”

Osamu stayed quiet at that, he thought you just needed time. So he let it go, looking forward to talking to you the following days. But that was the problem, you weren’t there in the following days either. He knew where you lived but he didn’t want to impose as your family didn’t know him very well yet either. He stopped himself from visiting until it hit the second week of your absence. Where were you? Why have you disappeared as if you never existed in the first place? He was growing worried, he wanted you to exist. He loved existing when you were around. And he wanted to clear everything up after getting multiple clues from Suna, and his brother, obviously.

It was until the class of the second week you were gone, when Osamu promised to visit your house after school, did their teacher tell them news that tore Osamu in half.

“One of our students Y/N L/N has transferred schools. The administration just finished filing her transfer after her visit yesterday, she didn’t get to say goodbye as her family moved out the same day. That’s about it, the first class is Physics. Have a nice day ahead, students.”

His ears were ringing. You were gone. Gone like the liquid that slipped past his hold. Atsumu looked at his brother in pity, knowing how much he had lost at that time. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t hear Osamu crying in the shower when they got home. Or when he tried to not get his snot on his pillows, sniffling in the night. His heart ached for his brother.

It’s been years since 2nd year in High School, and Osamu has just opened up Onigiri Miya. His brother had gone pro on Volleyball, and he couldn’t be more proud. He still finds himself thinking back to a few months of pure bliss in highschool, and he tried dating a fair share as well, in hopes that he’ll get what he had with you. He didn’t. So he dedicated himself to his work, and his passion: cooking. A few more years and his business was a success, to which was hell for the first few months, having no investors, and all. He was wiping down his counter, black cap on, his hair not having the same old bleached-grey hair. Instead, it was back to his natural dark hair.

“What is this place, really?”

“The name reminds me of someone from my highschool days. But I only heard about it now, is it really good?”

“Yeah, totally! We should bring our superiors here, and see if we get a few favors, hmm? The onigiri here is a star-choice.” Osamu sees someone turned around, laughing prettily, smiling all-wide, they were bright. Until the same eyes he used to look at in such a close distance, caught his own. His heart skipped two beats, or maybe skipped beating this whole time, maybe he died because god, did he finally send his angel back to him?

It was when you uttered his name under your breath, from the entrance that rang the bell prior to the conversation he overheard earlier did he confirm it. “Hey pretty girl,” he says, as he takes off his cap, ruffles his hair, chuckling deeply, and looking directly back at you; your heart spasms. “Where have you been?”

Bonus:

“Yeah, he was a real bitch when I first talked to him in high school.” You badmouthed him loudly from your table, which made him yell from the kitchen, “I was trying to see if you’ll take my hand and put the note there, okay!” Laughing, you didn’t notice him stalking behind you until he placed a kiss on your cheek. “Grumpy-ass.”

Living with 'Samu! ⁆ End Credits

#miya osamu #Miya #Osamu #Haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu!!#Inarizaki #miya atsumu #Atsumu #Osamu x Reader #Osamu x you #suna rintarou #Slow burn #Angst

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friendsim2 · 3 years

Text

More About Friendsim 2

We’ve been absolutely blown away by the response to this project, and now that our teaser is out and we’re moving into production I’d like to take a minute to say a little bit more about the project!

Who’s Involved?

Friendsim 2 is being produced by Studio June, an independent artists’ collective formed by a group of Homestuck fans and dedicated to creating meaningful, thoughtful content in a post-canon landscape.

Our core creative team consists of the following folks:

Jonaya Riley: Director/Narrative Director ( @transkanayamaryam ) A woman who’s written over a million words of Homestuck/Hiveswap-related fiction, including two Hiveswap novels. She’s currently the narrative director for Studio June’s post-canon visual novel, New Game Plus, and has worked on a number of other fan-projects, including the Pesterquest Fan Dub, the Will it Homestuck? podcast, and numerous other projects.

Bucky Grant: Art Director ( @thinglikerbucky ) A long-time Homestuck fan and content creator, Bucky has been involved in a wide range of fan projects. They’re the director for New Game Plus, main host of the Will it Homestuck? podcast, and are prolific writer, artist, and voice actor.

Anna: Voice Director ( @articulately-composed ) Another long-time fan creator, Anna has been heavily involved in the Homestuck music and voice acting scene, and has been responsible for projects such as the Time’s Apprentice musical, the Broadwaystuck 2020 panel, and countless comic dubs and other voice-acting projects. She was a writer for Distantquest, voice-actor for the Pesterquest fan dub, and much more!

In addition to the core team, we’ll be working with a number of writers, artists, musicians, and voice actors from throughout the Homestuck fandom.

When is this coming out?

The game will be released episodically, with the plan being to release the first two routes in the Spring of 2022, with new episodes releasing every few months after that until the game is all done!

What’s the plot?

I don’t want to get too spoiler-y, but the basic plot revolves around MSPA Reader heading back to Alternia to pick up all their friends from Friendsim and take them to safety.

That’s simple, right? Nothing could possibly go wrong with that... right?!

Will this have Xefros and Joey and all them?

No, this is a timeline where the events of Friendsim definitely did take place (which it seems that Hiveswap Act 1 and 2 is not) but Hiveswap Act 1 and 2 definitely did not happen. This will be important for reasons I won’t reveal because they’re major spoilers.

What kind of game is this?

Although this will be a visual novel similar to the original Friendsim in overall presentation, the narrative structure, writing, and stakes will be quite a bit different than the original game.

In addition to the main visual novel gameplay, we’ve got some fun surprises planned for the player!

What makes this special?

Not to brag (okay, maybe to brag just a little bit), but we’ve got some absolutely amazing writers and artists involved in this project. The work being done, even at this early stage, is really highlighting the love and dedication that our creators have for these characters and this world.

Outside of the basic “this is gonna be well-made” thing, we’re planning to introduce a number of things to the Friendsim formula to make a game that’s got some real depth to it.

We’re also planning to record full character voicing (that is, MSPAR and the narration will be un-voiced, but everyone else will talk)! Our team includes not only a voice director who’s written, produced, and recorded an entire Ancestor musical, but several Pesterquest dub voice actors and editors, and we really believe in the added immersion that good voice work can bring to a project.

So... “officially unofficial” what does that mean exactly?!

It means that this is absolutely, definitively not an official project! We have no connection to What Pumpkin or anyone affiliated with What Pumpkin - this project is being produced, written, developed, and financed entirely by the fans.

We’ll definitely be starting from the canon established by Friendsim and Pesterquest, but we’re not beholden to it!

Yeah this sounds pretty dope - how do I get involved?

You can follow Friendsim 2 and Studio June on Twitter, or visit the official Friendsim 2 and Studio June websites for more info! You can also check out our Youtube channel for trailers and teasers!

If you want to be a part of our fan community, check out our Studio June community Discord server where you can chat about Friendsim 2, New Game Plus, or just general Homestuck stuff! Who knows... you might even run into me or some of the other devs on the server!

Also, if you’re interested in a thoughtful, considerate approach to post-canon content, check out New Game Plus, a post-canon visual novel featuring the original Homestuck cast.

Thanks again to all of our followers for your support! Making a project of this scope is always a challenge, and we genuinely appreciate the love and support y’all have shown us!

-Jonaya Riley, Director

#Homestuck #Hiveswap #Friendsim #Friendsim 2 #Hiveswap friendsim #fan game #visual novel #homestuck game #Studio June

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Solitude.

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Requested: by @hotsauceonabiscuit

AU where Loki owns a bookshop. Asgardians have found safety in norway I’d have a feeling he’d want to be somewhat distant because of everything. The solitude and occasional judgement of patrons would be enough or so he thought until the reader steps inside for the first time.

Warnings: None

Summary: A few years after the final battle, Loki is doing well in Norway having opened his own library on the outskirts of the new Asgard. He barely has any visitors and he is content with the life he is living. What happens when he meets Y/N, one of the maids working for Valkyrie?

Author’s Note: Hey peeps, I’m back! Thank you for the prompt, @hotsauceonabiscuit, I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you like it, sorry I’m posting it so late! Please read and enjoy, everyone :)

Y/H/C - Your Hair Colour

Y/E/C - Your Eye Colour

---

The bell above the door rang, alerting Loki that someone was in his library. Loki had been a librarian ever since Thor and Valkyrie established a new Asgard in Norway. Thor was off with the Avengers, while Valkyrie became their new ruler.

He was tired of the royal life, which is why he opened a library on the outskirts of the city. He had customers, yes, but a very low number of them. Most of them were repetitive. As he stood in the aisle, wondering who it could be, a soft voice rang throughout the place.

"Hello? Is anyone here? I'll come later if the place is closed." This was someone he had never heard before. Blinking, he walked over to the receptionist's desk to see a petite woman standing there, looking around the place in awe. She had Y/H/C hair and a very, very pretty face.

"Excuse me." She averted her eyes from the aisles and looked at him. "Oh, your majesty! I didn't know you owned this place," she chuckled nervously, looking at him with anxious eyes. "Who are you?" he found himself asking, feeling an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time.

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I work with Her Majesty at the castle. Um, do you have any fiction books? You know, mortal fiction," she stammered. A smile lifted his face. "Follow me." He heard her heaving a sigh of relief as she followed him.

"This is a very nice place," she commented, "You must have tons of people swarming the library! I mean, look— the neatly arranged aisles, all genre-sorted… if I could live here, I definitely would." He laughed softly at her words. "You're very welcome, my flat is upstairs," he winked, which made her blush. Even that was adorable.

"Here you are, mortal fiction," he declared as they stood alone in an aisle. "Thank you! Will it be okay if I stay here to read? I'm on a break and I really don't want to spend it at the castle." He frowned at her words. "You're very welcome to stay, miss. Why not at the castle, if I may ask?"

"The other servants there are very, very boring. They don't like books and I can't hold a conversation with any of them." He laughed once more at her honesty. "I used to face the same problem growing up. No one around me was as invested in books as I was." Both of them shook their heads.

"My father and mother used to both work with the All-Father. He was in the army and she was Her Majesty Frigga's maid. I come from a peasant family and therefore, have no access to the royal library. Still, my mother somehow managed to bring books home and that's where my love for them began."

He nodded attentively at her words, glad to have finally found someone who loved solitude and books as much as he did. "That's a brilliant story, darling. Well, I'll leave you alone now, have fun reading. I'll be at the receptionist's desk if you need anything."

"Thanks a bunch, Your Majesty," Y/N grinned at him, clutching the book to her bosom. "Loki will do, Lady Y/L/N," he smiled back. "Same, you can call me Y/N."

With that, Loki left her side and walked back to the receptionist's desk. Y/N found a cozy couch in between two aisles and sat down, getting into her favourite reading position— curled against one corner of the couch, legs pulled up to her chest.

There was silence in the small library afterwards. Y/N sat reading her book, which was the second installment of a book series she started with a month ago. She couldn't find the book anywhere, until one of her coworkers had spoken about there being a library on the outskirts of the city.

She had decided to try her luck here, actually being successful. Loki looked up from his work, distracted by Y/N's presence. Where had he heard the last name before? Y/L/N. His eyes suddenly widened with realization. That's right! Her father was the army and was good friends with Thor. That's where he knew the last name from!

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to keep himself from groaning. Why was Y/N so captivating? A few hours passed before he heaved a huge sigh and got up, giving in to his mind's requests.

Ask her out for a coffee.

Looking around the place, he finally found her seated on his favourite couch, attentively reading the book. "Y/N?" Startled, she looked up. "Oh, Loki, sir. What brings you here?"

"Just came to check on you. Enjoying the book?" he asked, giving her a strained smile. Just ask her out, Loki, what could go wrong? "Very much! I read the first one a month ago, couldn't find the second one after that. Your library is awesome!" she gushed, grinning. He nodded with appreciation.

"How long does your break last?"

At that, her eyes went comically wide. "Oh no, my break time ended an hour ago!" she panicked, bolting upright. "Let me walk you back to the castle," he offered, surprising himself. "I would love that, thank you. Mind if I take the book back with me? I promise I'll return it tomorrow."

"Yes, you may keep the book, Y/N. Come." The two left the library. As they walked, Y/N resumed reading the book. Loki glanced at her, a small smile blooming on his face. She looked adorable as she disregarded the world around her, her attention grasped by the book.

How did he get attached to her so quickly?

A few meters ahead, Loki noticed a puddle in front of Y/N. He pulled her in by the waist, making her walk around the puddle. She glanced at him, then at the puddle next to her. "Thanks," she whispered, blushing furiously.

Y/N also liked Loki. Had liked him for nearly 15 years in mortal time. She was a teenager when her father had taken her to the castle to meet the King, the Queen and the Princes. Thor knew her father personally; they fought in wars together, he had a high rank.

As soon as she had taken a look at Loki, she was smitten. She knew it was wrong— a prince and a peasant girl? Pfft, as if. She was sure he didn't even remember her. "You're welcome. Maybe keep the book away?"

"Why would I, if you're here with me?" she mumbled distractedly, burying her face in her book once again. Loki, meanwhile, sported a huge smirk on his face at her words. She did have a point. His arm tightened around her waist and they continued their walk to the castle.

---

"Loki, what are you doing here?" Valkyrie blinked as he walked into the courtroom, looking around. "Nice place," he commented instead of answering her. Wow, he had been away from the castle for nearly 6 years, he realized. She simply raised her eyebrow at him. "Fine," he huffed, "I came to drop someone off."

"Who?" Valkyrie questioned, confused. "One your maids, Y/N. She was at my library during her break time, lost track of time," he answered, leaning against a pillar. Everyone else in the room only stared at him.

"Oh, Y/N, I know her. She loves reading, reminds me a lot of you," Valkyrie chuckled. "You're not mad at her? You know, she took an extra hour of break," he asked slowly. "Of course not. We have a lot of people working here, one person missing isn't going to stop anything," she shrugged.

"You're right about that. Well, I bid you adieu, I must go," he sighed, giving her a resigned smile, "It was good to see you again." She smiled back at him. "Likewise. Goodbye," she called out as he turned to leave.

Outside the castle, he saw Y/N. She was with a few of her coworkers, chatting. "Y/N!" It was now or never. All of them looked at him. "Loki," she greeted just as enthusiastically, waving. He didn't miss the way the others immediately started whispering amongst themselves.

"I need to ask you something," he said quietly, holding his hand out. She took it and he led her away from the group. He didn't let go even when they were in private. "What?" Y/N's blush returned. "Will you go on a date with me?" he whispered, staring intently into her beautiful Y/E/C eyes.

"Oh, Loki, sir, I will be honored," she gasped, covering her face with her hand. Had Loki just asked her out on a date? He wished to court her? "That's brilliant. Why don't we return to the library?" he smirked, bringing her hand to his lips. "But— my work—"

"One person missing isn't going to stop anything," he shrugged, repeating Valkyrie's words. "Her Majesty might fire me," Y/N expressed worriedly. "She won't, trust me. Shall we?" Well, he was close with her. "Let's go," she chuckled, leaning on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

Her coworkers simply stared at her in shock as the two left without another word, hand in hand. Y/N giggled at their flabbergasted expressions, not believing the fact that she was actually going on a date with the man she had had a crush on for a long, long time.

She was glad she discovered the small library on the outskirts of Asgard.

---

A/N: Please leave a like, thanks for reading!

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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fanfictionfansmiction · 3 years

Text

Waiting For You

This is a long one you guys! A Fred Weasley Reader Insert I hope you enjoy. As I’ve started writing I’m beginning to see a lot of them follow the same patterns so please do send in requests so I can write something a bit different :) If you want a part two I would be more than happy to oblige

Word Count: 3597

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I sat down at my desk once more. Clearing away the papers and notes the never-ending week had collected. The small lamp cast a heavenly glow scattered through the leaves of my plants. Quietly I opened my draw pulling out my notebook filled with letters I would never send. Turning to the next empty page I intended to spill every last moment into. The movement of the pen ales the headache growing deep in my mind and I lose myself entirely in the act of it. Not particularly caring for the words I write. Just knowing that all day I waited keeping them safe for this moment finally letting them free. Outside of my bedroom I hear him move, speaking to someone I assume to be George or one of his other siblings. Animated and joyous. The thought brings a smile to my lips. They laugh together over something small I imagine.

Finally finished with my letter I close the notebook placing it back in its spot. I settle myself turning off the light as I go to join my friends. George opens his arms wide offering me a hug which Angelina joins in. They tell us of their most recent trip and of how warm Greece was this time of year.

“And we have a little surprise.” George says wiggling his eyebrows gleefully. Angelina breaks into a dazzling smile showing me and Fred her left hand where a sweet diamond ring sits on her finger. Now I envelope the two of them into a hug which Fred joins us. Squeezing all of us together.

“Knew you could do it mate.” Fred says clapping his brother on the back giving George a proud look.

“Let me see the ring Ang.” I say holding my hand to her which she eagerly abides placing her hand dramatically into mine. I see the love in her face when she gazes at George as I look at the ring.

“Yes, Angelina we must see the ring!” Fred adds in a comical tone standing next to me taking in the engagement ring.

“It’s beautiful, you did well George.”

“Did you ever doubt me?” He adds planting a kiss on Angelina’s cheek.

“Never.” She responds.

Me and Fred send each other a look which says god this is grossly adorable. Angelina and George are in their own little bubble just staring at each other.

“I think this calls for champagne don’t you Fred.” I say.

“Absolutely couldn’t think of a more appropriate occasion! We’ll just pop to the Muggle shop and get some.” Fred adds grabbing my hand and my bag as we make a swift exit out of the front door. The cold night doesn’t mask the strange look taking over Fred's face. I’m not sure why but he looks sad.

“Did you know he was going to propose?” I ask him.

For a moment he doesn’t respond but he does look down at me leaving a pregnant pause between the two of us.

“I didn’t know he when he was going to do it but I had an idea it would be soon. I actually helped him pick out the ring a few months ago.” he looks away, “I can see that look on your face don’t worry I am happy for them. It’s just strange. It’s very grown up of him.” he looks back at me and continues without any probing, “It’s stupid but me and George always moved at the same pace. I feel like I’m falling behind a little. Do you ever feel like maybe there’s something wrong with us?” he asks.

“Because we aren’t engaged?”

“Well more because we’re single, you know Ron and Hermione have moved in together. Harry and Ginny are only not engaged because they want to wait but they’re practically married. They’re all younger than us. It’s like everyone we know has found someone they want to be with. But here we are buying celebratory champagne for a happy couple.” He says turning the corner to walk down the next street.

“I don’t think that’s wrong of us Fred. If you worried about not being lovable.” I look up at him, “Then you don’t need to worry, I haven’t met someone who didn’t love you.” I’m thankful for the dark as I feel a blush grow on my cheeks.

“Are you keeping count.” He laughs leaving another pause before continuing, “You don’t have anything to worry about it either. You are extremely lovable.”

Even though it’s cold out tonight I begin to sweat under my jumper. Thankfully we approach the shop so the conversation of love disperses into the wind.

“Now how happy would you say we are for the happy couple, £7.50 happy or £20 happy?” I ask holding up the two bottles. Fred pretends to read the labels before choosing the cheaper bottle.

“I love them both but I don’t love them enough to spend £20 on sparkling wine. Did you want some snacks while we’re here?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ll just grab some stuff on the way to the till.”

With an armful of appropriate snacks and drinks we wander back to the house. Opening up the bag of cheese puffs to eat on the walk.

“When was the last time you went on a date?” Fred asks out of nowhere.

“Oh, uh it was a month ago with that muggle who worked as a chef.”

“You went on a few dates with him didn’t you. He was alright. Why didn’t it go any further?” He asks tentatively.

“Well, he just didn’t feel right. He was constantly talking about himself and just didn’t do it for me sexually to be honest.” I say popping a cheese puff into my mouth. This causes Fred to laugh so loud I’m worried we’re disturbing people who live in the houses we pass.

“Poor guy, since we’re being honest, I did hate that twat.” This time I laugh and whack his chest. “What he was always judging me and he laughed when he saw me making breakfast! Also, the way he looked at you made my skin crawl.” He adds.

“How did he look at me?” I shriek with laughter.

“Like he was always thinking about sex. By the sounds of it he was always thinking about having bad sex with you. And that moustache only made it worse.”

“What about you how long has it been for you?” I ask.

“What since I had bad sex or had a date?” he responds with a laugh, “It’s been a long time, I just haven’t found anyone I’m interested in spending time with.”

“You don’t have to tell me about the sex the ladies you bring home aren’t quiet.” I add.

“You little perv.” Fred laughs.

When we get back into the house, we hear music playing from the living room where George and Angelina are dancing together. Holding each other close with content smiles playing on their lips mouthing the words to an old muggle song that plays on our record player. For a moment me and Fred just stand there watching them. I can’t tell you what he’s thinking but I know what’s running through my mind. The longing to be held in such a loving way. To have someone look at you like that and to look at someone like that. Looking up at Fred I see that he is now looking at me. Something tugs inside my chest. He places a hand on the small of my back and for just a second I think he’s going to ask me to dance with him, the image of that intimacy brings a blush to my face. Instead, he guides me into the kitchen where we drop the snacks on the counter. While I source our second-hand champagne flutes, last used on the opening of the joke shop, Fred pops the sparkling wine. We pour out four glasses in silence.

George and Angelina walk into the kitchen taking a glass each. George lifts his glass toward us and we do the same, then he tips it toward Angelina who intertwines her arm with his.

“To love.” George says.

“To love.” Angelina mirrors.

Fred and I look to each other, with a cheeky grin on his face he links his arm with mine. With his skin touching mine a strange feeling once again tugs inside me as we drink.

We finish off the two bottles of sparkling wine, with the aid of the bubbles and the alcohol I do end up dancing with Fred. He takes my hand and rests another on the small of my back which still burning from the last time his hand rested there. I was so close I could smell his apple shampoo and his aftershave. Sometime late in the night George and Angelina went back to their home but me and Fred kept dancing. My head leant against his chest with just his cotton t shirt keeping me from his skin but I still could hear his heart thud. His hands made their way up the back of my shirt so he explored my bare skin. Drawing his fingers to follow my spine. I didn’t stop him. When I looked up at him, he was once again looking at me. In a way I’d never seen him look before. My hands slid up to secure themselves around his neck and his still danced under my shirt.

We stopped dancing. Minutes passed and we just stood there. Hearts racing and bodies pressed together. Slightly breathless and definitely reddening. The last song on the record played out so we no longer had music it was just the two of us holding each other with the song of our hearts beating. Fred slowly brought his face down to mine so our noses brushed against each other. My eyes fluttered closed. Just as we were about to kiss the home phone rang. My eyes opened and the spell had broken. With the shrill ring of the phone dragging us out of the moment Fred and I looked at each other again. Not with the yearning that there was before but with confusion. I was the first to step away making it to the phone just before it rang out.

It was someone Fred had given his number to on a night out. I passed the phone to him walking back to my room like dog with its tail between his legs. When I close the door, I press my forehead against it panting. I can hear him talk on the phone for a few minutes when he hangs up, I assume he’ll go to bed but what I didn’t expect was for him to walk up to my door and to just stand there. His shadow dancing with mine. Once again, I hear him breathing. I feel his name at the tip of my tongue and I almost let myself say it.

Instead, he says mine.

In a breath I open my door. He is waiting for me with lips parted. I’m unsure of what he’s going to do and I think he is too. Like something completely out of his control brought him to my door.

“How was she?” I ask.

But he doesn’t answer. He steps toward me closing the space between us again. His hands find their way to my face and he leaves them there. Searching my face for an answer to a question he has yet to ask. But I feel it. Deep inside me I hear the question and I know the answer. I place my hand on his cheek too his face hot. This time I bring my face up to his letting our noses brush together for a moment. This is all it takes for him to kiss me. Fiery with the taste of champagne still on his lips. His hands explore me in the way they had only began to do a moment ago. Mine begin to do the same to him. My hands running up his shirt to feel his chest and his heart beating beneath it. Before I know what happening we’re both shirtless and I’m perched on my dresser while he kisses every inch of bare skin.

We both lose any control we had earlier in the night after we’ve made our way to the bed still panting and touching one another. I learn why the ladies he brings home always make so much noise and I’m so thankful I didn’t keep dating the muggle.

After we just lay there in bed staring up at the ceiling. I turn my head to look at Fred who once more is still looking at me. As ridiculous as it sounds considering what we’ve just done I feel very aware that I’m naked next to Fred. A shyness takes over me and I have to resist sitting up and getting under the covers. Fred sensing my mood change leans over his side of the bed picking up his t-shirt that lay on the floor and gives it to me to wear. After I’ve put it on, he suggests we get under the duvet considering how cold it gets at night in this house. I don’t ask him if he wants to go back to his bed and he doesn’t offer. I lay my head on his bare chest and his hand draws circles along my back once more.

I fall into sleep easily next to Fred who’s steady breathing I eventually match.

The morning sun lights up my room and I lie in Fred’s arms recounting the night before. Already panicked about how to talk to him now. This wasn’t some guy I was dating and I wasn’t some girl he brought back from a club. We live together.

He shifts stretching and yawning opening his eyes. He smiles in a way that makes me want to not worry about what’ll happen because of last night. He tugs me closer into his chest and plants a kiss onto the top of my head. I melt into his touch and sigh contently.

“So that was...” I trail off already annoyed that I started the conversation.

“Really good.” He answers.

“Yes, I have to agree with you there.”

We just lay there together for a while both now aware of the closeness and the familiarity of it all. I don’t prompt him for more conversation about what had happened last night out of fear that he’ll dismiss it as a onetime thing. Well aware that the feeling tugging inside my chest wasn’t anything new. Knowing that a few steps away from me in my desk are letters all addressed to Fred telling all him all the things I couldn’t say. If this didn’t even mean anything to him how could I live in this house with him without breaking my heart every time I see him or think about him.

“Would you want to go on a date with me?” He asks me.

I turn my head to look up at him from his chest and he looks nervous. Biting his lip and playing with his hair with his free hand.

“Yes. Absolutely let's do that.” I answer.

Then my alarm goes off signalling I have work in an hour and a half. I sigh and peel myself away from Fred with frustrated look.

“I have to get ready.”

“I knew it was coming don’t worry, I have some shop manager stuff to do today anyway so it’s for the best. I mean I never thought I’d be able to leave you naked in bed.” He jokes.

“You’ve thought about me naked.” I blush as I stand up from the bed wrapping myself in a dressing gown.

“Well, we’ve known each other a long time and you are the most beautiful girl I’ve met so yes. And if I hadn’t, I probably would’ve just gone to sleep last night instead of just waiting for you to open the door. And to be honest -“ He gets cut off by the house phone ringing. He groans pulling on his boxers and plodding out of the room over to the house phone.

I follow him out in need of a cup of coffee. I mime to him to ask he wants one which he does so I go into the kitchen to boil the kettle.

“Oh Hayley, I didn’t expect you to call again.” I hear him say until the kettle drowns it out.

After the coffee is made Fred makes his way into the kitchen with a guilty look on his face. He kisses me thanking me for the drink insisting that he’ll make breakfast while I shower and get dressed for work. After I’m dressed, I make my way to the kitchen, where Fred looks proudly at the plate, he’s dished up with a glass of orange juice and a rose from the neighbour's garden complementing the chocolate sauce smiley face he’s drawn over my pancake.

“Why that muggle ever laughed at your culinary skills I’ll never know.” I joke sliding into my seat next to Fred.

“About other people...” he starts, “So Hayley the girl from last night phoned again and she asked me if...”

“If?”

“If I wanted to go on a date with her.”

“And do you?”

Fred shakes his head, “No I don’t which I did tell her but it brings me to something I did want to talk to you about.”

“What’s that?” I ask taking a bite of my pancakes.

“I know last night, before we,” he gestures between the two of us, “which by the way was incredible, we talked about the both of us being single and I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. I didn’t sleep with you because I’m scared about being alone. I did it because it felt right. Whatever this is between us it feels right to me.”

“It feels right to me too.” I add holding his hand in mine.

“Great, so how do you feel about a date tonight?”

“Tonight, works perfectly for me.” I say smiling at him but my second alarm goes off to let me know I have to leave for work so I kiss Fred before I go.

The work days go quickly which I’m thankful for. On the entire walk back to the house I’m smiling like a love sick teenager. When I arrive home, Fred hasn’t yet made it back from work so I draw myself a bath to relax. While I’m relaxing in the lavender scented bath, I hear Fred call to let me know he’s home. I unlock the bathroom door and shout back to him. He opens the door peaking his head in like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to look.

“How was work?” I ask him.

“Agonising.” he answers in a strained tone.

“Why?” I laugh.

“Well, I spent all day thinking about you obviously.” he walks into the bathroom leaning down to kiss me.

“So, what’s the plan for our date tonight?” I ask.

“That’s a surprise.” He says kissing me again.

After I’ve finished getting ready, I find myself standing outside Fred’s door feeling once again overcome with shyness. I’d spent the entire day not thinking about what it all meant between me and Fred, I was focused on how it felt last being with him and letting every desire I have for him take over. It was all instinct and I’m not particularly good on acting on it. What if he doesn’t like the dress I’m wearing. Or what if we start dating and it all ends terribly leaving me without all my friends. Or what if-

“See it’s very unnerving standing outside someone’s door isn’t it.” I hear Fred say from inside his room.

“How does it feel for you being on the other side of it?” I respond.

“Still pretty nerve wracking.” He laughs still not opening the door.

“Fred.” I say and he says my name back to me. “We aren’t making a mistake, are we?” I ask.

“Mistake?” he says swinging open the door with fear taking over his eyes, “Why would we be making a mistake.” He asks looking down at me.

“Well, if we start dating it's not the same as starting out with someone from the first date. I know you better than I know anyone. I mean we live together Fred. Where are we starting from? What are we to each other?”

He takes my hand and leads me further into his room so there’s not much space between us, “We are two people who have always cared for each other. You are one of my dearest friends and I think that’s what dating is right? That’s why I never make it onto a date because why would I when I have someone like you, someone I trust with everything. Every time I’d bring a girl home and it got to the talking, I wasn’t interested in it because I would always keep thinking of you. About something that would make you laugh. So, it may make it all a bit more complicated because I think about you all the time as it is but I want to do this. I can’t tell you where we’re starting because I don’t know where we stand but I’m willing to figure it out if you are.”

“Okay Freddie. We can figure it out together.”

He breathes a sigh of relief pulling me in for a hug, squeezing me tight.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred x y/n #fred x you #fred reader insert #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley reader insert #harry potter imagine #harry potter reader insert #reader insert

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devilbat · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Online

A/N: sorry I have been MIA for months now. A lot has going on in my life and Depression sucks, making it hard to write, so forgive me.

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: Just fluff

Summery: dating is hard it's even harder when a Pandemic happens..

The picture you stared at only showed a well-toned lean body in a well-tailored suit. Most of the photographs showed the same, never his face. His name was Tom 39 years old, living in London. Though he dose travels a lot for work. Shakespeare fanatic, runner, enjoys cooking, long walks with his dog when he's not running and lots and lots of dancing. Six foot one, six foot two on a good day. Who was testing the waters out there, but will be the perfect gentleman and very respectful.

His profile stated as you looked through it. He had messaged you right as you thought about giving up once again. Everyone on these dating apps only wanted one of two things. Nudes or sex nothing more. No connection, no relationship, not even a friendship. Sure, you were offered friends with benefits.

That was something you were not looking for. Did it not state in your profile that you weren't going to do any of that. Do men even read?

The few dates you have gone on all ended up a bust. Then the quarantine happened right as you were getting yourself out there. So it was conversations via text. But soon you were ghosted far too many times because you wouldn't send nude.

You were all about to shut down your account when this man named Thomas H. sent you a message. You weren't even sure why you click on the email from this man without a face. Here you were reading what he had to say.

Y/n,

My name is Thomas, but naturally, I go by Tom. I'm sure you might not even respond to this as there is no face to this profile. With my job and for my privacy would be one of many reasons why. But I thought I might give it a shot. And I have to say I'm quite mesmerized by your beauty. You are quite lovely, and I'm sure you get that a lot. But I genuinely mean it. I was a bit fascinated by your profile as I read it, might have had chucked at a few bits of it. I would like to know more about you.

Like what type of nerd are you? Marvel or DC?

Star Wars or Star Trek? And of course, I'll answer any questions you might have for me. As well I would not ask for any pictures of you clothed or nude as I would like to get to know you as I'm hoping you wouldn't mind getting to know me without the nudes as you put it. Ehehe.

I genuinely hope to hear from you. But understand if I don't.

Sincerely, Tom.

Ps, I do hope this quarantine hasn't made you gone completely bonkers.

Usually, you wouldn't have responded, but something about him told you not to pass this up. What was the worst that could happen that already hasn't happened on an online dating app? Well, there was always the fact he could be a serial killer.

Hello Tom,

You may have messaged me in time I was about to give up on this site and return to my habit. Marvel all the way. I would hope you would agree or we can't continue talking. Though, I can't deny that DC needs to just stop with Batman movies. The should have stopped before George Clooney. Though I will give Christian Bale props, he did a better job than Clooney.

As for Star Wars and Star Trek? That is a tough one, so I'm just going to say both are good. But let's face it. Captain Kirk is the better star fleet Captain. Sure Picard is excellent as well. But anyone after them just doesn't do it for me. Ha ha..

And it's all about Baby Yoda. If you are not a baby Yoda fan, you're just wrong. Yes, I'm one of "those" girls.

Coffee or Energy drinks? I would say I dabbled in both. Pancakes or waffles? Yes, there is a difference. I'm a waffle girl myself. Well, that is all I can think of right now.

Y/n.

You hit send before setting your phone down on the table next to you as you yawned. Maybe it was an early bedtime, not like you had anything better to do. You puddled around your usual routine before bed. A loud ding brought you back to your phone.

"That was quick." Recognizing the chim of the app all too well. Grebing your phone, forgetting your face cream as you were curious about what he had to say—settling into bed, getting comfortable before you opened your phone.

Y/n,

I'm delighted to hear from you. If I'm quite bold, and for starters, its tea for me. With two sugars and a splash of cream. As for waffles or pancakes, I'm French toast kind of man, duh. Lol. Though you can't beat a good old fashion English Breakfast and a side of Earl gray. Eheh.

I'm quite a fan of marvel though it is a rather vast universe. What movies/comics praytell do you prefer?

Sorry love to disappoint, but I'm going to say Doctor Who I am British. The tenth and the eleventh doctor. I do hope you've seen the show. I used to watch the reruns of the original with my father when I was a young wide eye lad. I am a fan of both Star Wars and Star Trek. And there is nothing wrong with liking a baby Yoda. He is exceedingly loveable.

It says your new to England, where are you from originally? How long have you've been here? Seen any of the sights England has to offer?

That's all for now.

Sincerely, Tom.

Emails went on for weeks talking back and forth first on the dating app than via text. You were the one to leap by giving him your number. After hitting send your phone vibrated with a text.

Unknown number: Hello love, this is Tom. I'm delighted to receive your text.

More weeks had passed. Still, you had yet to see his face though he did send you photos of random things during the day. You did the same as your toes sticking out from the bubble bath. Then you got a text of his toes sticking out from under the blankets. The two of you would watch a movie together. The quarantine was still in effect. Each of you would pick a film out every other weekend and sit back and watch it—text throughout the movie.

Y/n: Omg did she just run up the stairs like a dumb big boobed bimbo!!! She makes the rest of us look bad.

Tom: Eheh, you said it darling, not me. Though I think she might survive this.

Y/n: Wanna make a beat? I think she will die within the next few minutes.

Tom: Oh, it's on. Now, what do I get if I win?

Y/n: Whatever it is you want cause mister you are going to lose.

You both patiently wanted to see what happens next. The movie ended, and you waited in annoyance for Tom to respond to gloat about being right. And to see what he desired for his spoils of war.

Tom: Well, Love, it looks like I have won this round.

Y/n: It seems you have butthead. What is it that the winner wishes for?

Tom: Did you just call me a butthead? Eheh. Hmm, let's see. How about a Skype date? I figured it was about time to reveal myself.

Y/n: Tom, I just meet you. I'm not sure I'm ready to see your eggplant. Haha.

Tom: I probably should have rephrased that better. My face love, my face. Eheh. Tomorrow at 7 pm?

Nervous was an understatement. You had cleaned your whole flat even if you were going to stay on the couch, laptop resting on a large pillow setting on your coffee table. You sat playing with your hair, unsure if you wanted it up or down. A chim from your computer startled you from straightening out your dress you finally had settled on. Soon a well-tailored suited chest came on screen.

"Hold on, darling, trying to adjust this blood screen." The deep British, very attractive yet somehow familiar voice rang through the computer speakers. You only assumed it belongs to Tom.

You watched the man attempting to fiddle with the view, cursing ever so quietly. Making you giggle relaxing a little bit more. Your laughing came to an abrupt halt when Tom's face came into Focus. Your jaw dropped. And now the unmistakable "ehehe" came in to play as you stared at none other the most eligible bachelor in England none other than loki himself Tom Hiddleston.

"Darling, I think your drooling." Tom teased point to the side of his clean, shaved face. Tom fidgeted with his now raven-colored hair.

"Oh, I-I," You stammered out, trying to compose yourself.

"Didn't see this coming did you?" Tom smiled, wetting his lips with that blasted tongue of his.

"Well, no. I wasn't expecting Tom

Hiddleston."

"Is that a bad thing?" Tom spoke up.

"Oh, no, no. I would be an idiot to say it was. Hey, wait a minute. I've told you that, that, that. Shit." You muttered.

"That I was your hall pass if given a chance. Eheh. Well, it looks like you'll have had wasted your hall pass privileges. You only get one and can't use it on someone if you are already seeing them."

"You know, sir, you are still a butthead." You stuck out your tongue at the man.

"You do like calling me that. Why are you calling me a butthead this time?" Tom grinned.

Your time with Tom was extraordinary, the two of you talked throughout most of the night. He told you things you never knew about the actor every woman pined over. Here you were, the one woman out of a billion he seems to fancy.

"Well, love." Tom cooed as he watched you try not to nod off to sleep. "I should let you sleep."

"I'm sorry." You muttered sleepily.

"Do not apologize, my dear. I should be the one to apologize I've kept you up most of the night.” Tom smiled softly. He watched as you rub your eyes, a shy smile softly graced your lips. Making Tom’s heart flutter.

”Perhaps, my dear, would you like to meet for coffee at the cafe that opened back up?” Tom hummed in high hopes.

”Hmm, I don't know.” You smiled, trying hard to look like you were contemplating though you were going to say yes. To hell with this virus, it was Tom Hiddleston asking you to coffee.

”I mean, I'll wear a mask and stay six feet if needed.” Tom added quickly.

”No, no, there is no need for that. I don't mind unless you feel like it's needed.” You pipped up—Tom grind like a fool shaking his head no.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston one shot #fluff #quarantine online

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qqueenofhades · 4 years

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I really don’t want to start a discourse™, but I want you to know that I really appreciate how you write joe and Nicky in deo volente. So many of the fics I’ve read have placed yusef in the role of more sexually experienced and less devoted to god, while Nicky is depicted as an inexperienced and virginal priest/knight/monk and so forth and so on. Your narrative of joe out there rescuing people and being faithful, while Nicky looks back on his life of gambling and pleasures of the flesh ...(1/?)

Not to say that there’s anything wrong with either, obviously. I love guilty priest Nicky and repressed Nicky and p much every Nicky. But in the vast array of fics out there, it’s rare to see the opposite. Not that you’re working in a binary morally good/religious vs. not way. Your writing in the fic is really subtle and and your characterizations reveal a lot of depth. I just think it’s cool to see Nicky, average second son of a duke, drinking and gambling and feeling terribly guilty (2/?)

Guilty about the crusades and the fucking horror of crusade 1 without being excessively devout. Just an average dude. Not some paragon of virtue (btw, I’m on chapter 2 of the fic, so I don’t know how much your characterization changes moving forward. You have a lovely ability to combine your incredible knowledge of history, your beautiful writing, and these intimate details of the characters that make them fit— fit the canon and fit the history. (3/? Shit I’m sorry this had gotten way too long)

I enjoy the way you’ve really inserted us into the quotidian aspect of history. Aaaaaanyway— the discourse that I was afraid of: I think that a lot of fans of the movie that are generating fan content (tysfm to all of you beauties, btw 🙏🙏♥️) are westerners (which is a whole nother kettle of fish) and that carries a sort of ignorance about the Muslim world in the Middle Ages and this desire to simplify Europe as “Christian” “fighters for faith” etc. (4/? Fuuuuck. One(??) more)

And when we do that, we end up as characterizing the brown people as “not that”. The thing I love about this fandom is that people are definitely down on the crusades. I feel like all the fic I’ve read has been particularly negative about those wars, but the thing I love about your fic is that you don’t just say war is bad because people died and it was despicable and this pious white dude says so and this one brown person agrees. (5/6, I see the end in sight I swear it)

Instead you give us a larger cast of Muslims and Arabs and really flesh them out and give them opinions and different interpretations of faith, and I really appreciate that. The crusades were terrible, and we know this because these regular dudes who struggle with their different faiths and lives say so. And I just. I think that’s really great. Also, I fucking love yusef’s mom. I feel like more people would be accepting of the gift in this fashion and I think she’s lovely and (god damn it 6/7)

Aaaaaaaand. The bit where yusef returns and she’s already gone breaks my fucking heart. Also the moment where he’s like “I’m not sure about Abraham’s god, but my mothers god is worth my faith”?? Just really fucking great. So. Excellent fic. Excellent characters. Excellent not-being-accidentally-biased-towards-white-Christians. That is what I came here to say. Thank you so much for your amazing stories. I love them and I love history. Sorry about the rambling. idek how I wrote so much. (7/7)

Epilogue: tl;dr: you’re great.

Oh man! What a huge and thoughtful comment (which will in turn provoke a long-ass response from me, so…) I absolutely agree that no matter what fandom, I don’t do Discourse TM; I just sit in my bubble and stay in my lane and do my own thing and create content I enjoy. And I don’t even think this is that so much as just… general commentary on character and background? So obviously all of this should be read as my own personal experience and choices in writing DVLA, and that alone. I really appreciate you for saying that you love a wide range of fan creators/fanworks and you’re not placing one over another, you understand that fans have diverse ranges of backgrounds/experience with history and other cultures when they create content, and that’s not the same for everyone. So I just think that’s a great and respectful way to start things off.

First, as a professional historian who has written a literal PhD thesis on the crusades, I absolutely understand that many people (and regular fans) will not have the same privilege/education/perspective that I do, and that’s fine! They should not be expected to get multiple advanced degrees to enjoy a Netflix movie! But since I DO have that background, and since I’ve been working on the intellectual genealogy of the crusades (and the associated Christian/Muslim component, whether racially or religiously) since I was a master’s student, I have a lot of academic training and personal feelings that inform how I write these characters. Aside from my research on all this, my sister lives in an Islamic country and her boyfriend is a Muslim man; I’ve known a lot of Muslims and Middle Easterners; and especially with the current political climate of Islamophobia and the reckoning with racism whether in reality or fandom, I have been thinking about all this a lot, and my impact on such.

Basically: I love Nicky dearly, but I ADORE Joe, and as such, I’m protective of him and certainly very mindful of how I write him. Especially when the obvious default for westerners in general, fandom-related or otherwise, is to write what you are familiar with (i.e. the European Christian white character) and be either less comfortable or less confident or sometimes less thoughtful about his opposing number. I have at times tangentially stumbled across takes on Joe that turn me into the “eeeeeeeh” emoji or Dubious Chrissy Teigen, but I honestly couldn’t tell you anything else about them because I was like, “nope not for me” and went elsewhere rather than do Discourse (which is pretty much a waste of time everywhere and always makes people feel bad). This is why I’m always selective about my fan content, but especially so with this ship, because I have SO much field-specific knowledge that I just have to make what I like and which suits my personal tastes. So that is what I do.

Obviously, there’s a troublesome history with the trope of “sexually liberate brown person seduces virginal white character into a world of Fleshly Decadence,” whether from the medieval correlation of “sodomite” and “Saracen,” or the nineteenth-century Orientalist depictions of the East as a land variously childishly simplistic, societally backward, darkly mysterious and Exotic, or “decadent” (read: code for sexually unlike Western Europe, including the spectrum of queer acts). So when I was writing DVLA, I absolutely did not want to do that and it’s not to my taste, but I’m not going to whip out a red pen on someone else writing a story that broadly follows those parameters (because as I said, I stay in my lane and don’t see it anyway). Joe to me is just such an intensely complex and lovely Muslim character that that’s the only way I feel like I can honestly write him, and I absolutely love that about him. So yeah, any depiction of hypersexualizing him or making him only available for the sexual use and education of the white character(s) is just... mmm, not for me.

For example, I stressed over whether it was appropriate to move his origin from “somewhere in the Maghreb” to Cairo specifically, since Egypt, while it IS in North Africa, is not technically part of the Maghreb. I realize that Marwan Kenzari’s family is Tunisian and that’s probably why they chose it, to honor the actor’s heritage, but on the flip side… “al-Kaysani” is also a specifically Ismai’li Shia name (it’s the name of a branch of it) and the Fatimids (the ruling dynasty in Jerusalem at the time of the First Crusade) were well-known for being the only Ismai’li Shia caliphate. (This is why the Shi’ites still ancestrally dislike Saladin for overthrowing it in 1174, even if Saladin is a huge hero to the rest of the Islamic world.) Plus I really wanted to use medieval Cairo as Joe’s homeland, and it just made more sense for an Ismai’li Shia Fatimid from Cairo (i.e. the actual Muslim denomination and caliphate that controlled Jerusalem) to be defending the Holy City because it was personal for him, rather than a Sunni Zirid from Ifriqiya just kind of turning up there. Especially due to the intense fragmentation and disorganization in the Islamic world at the time of the First Crusade (which was a big part of the reason it succeeded) and since the Zirids were a breakaway group from the Fatimids and therefore not very likely to be militarily allied with them. As with my personal gripes about Nicky being a priest, I decided to make that change because I felt, as a historian, that it made more sense for the character. But I SUPER recognize it as my own choices and tweaks, and obviously I’m not about to complain at anyone for writing what’s in graphic novel/bonus content canon!

That ties, however, into the fact that Nicky has a clearly defined city/region of origin (Genoa, which has a distinct history, culture, and tradition of crusading) and Joe is just said to be from “the Maghreb” which…. is obviously huge. (I.e. anywhere in North Africa west of Egypt all the way to Morocco.) And this isn’t a fandom thing, but from the official creators/writers of the comics and the movie. And I’m over here like: okay, which country? Which city? Which denomination of Islam? You’ve given him a Shia name but then point him to an origin in Sunni Ifriqiya. If he’s from there, why has he gone thousands of miles to Jerusalem in the middle of a dangerous war to help his religious/political rivals defend their territory? Just because he’s nice? Because it was an accident? Why is his motivation or reason for being there any less defined or any less religious (inasmuch as DVLA Nicky’s motive for being on the First Crusade is religious at all, which is not very) than the white character’s? In a sense, the Christians are the ones who have to work a lot harder to justify their presence in the Middle East in the eleventh century at all: the First Crusade was a specifically military and offensive invasion launched at the direct behest of the leader of the Western Roman church (Pope Urban II.) So the idea that they’re “fighting for the faith” or defending it bravely is…

Eeeeh. (Insert Dubious Chrissy Teigen.)

But of course, nobody teaches medieval history to anyone in America (except for Bad Game of Thrones History Tee Em), and they sure as hell don’t teach about the crusades (except for the Religious Violence Bad highlight reel) so people don’t KNOW about these things, and I wish they DID know, and that’s why I’m over here trying to be an academic so I can help them LEARN it, and I get very passionate about it. So once again, I entirely don’t blame people who have acquired this distorted cultural impression of the crusades and don’t want to do a book’s worth of research to write a fic about a Netflix movie. I do hope that they take the initiative to learn more about it because they’re interested and want to know more, since by nature the pairing involves a lot of complex religious, racial, and cultural dynamics that need to be handled thoughtfully, even if you don’t know everything about it. So like, basically all I want is for the Muslim character(s) to be given the same level of respect, attention to detail, background story, family context, and religious diversity as any of the white characters, and Imma do it myself if I have to. Dammit.

(I’m really excited to hear your thoughts on the second half of the fic, especially chapter 3 and chapter 6, but definitely all of it, since I think the characters they’re established as in the early part of the fic do remain true to themselves and both grow and struggle and go through a realistic journey with their faith over their very long lives, and it’s one of my favorite themes about DVLA.)

Anyway, about Nicky. I also made the specific choice to have him be an average guy, the ordinary second son of a nobleman who doesn’t really know what he’s doing with his life and isn’t the mouthpiece of Moral Virtue in the story, since as he himself realizes pretty quick, the crusades and especially the sack/massacre of Jerusalem are actually horrific. I’ve written in various posts about my nitpicking gripes with him being a priest, so he’s not, and as I said, I’m definitely avoiding any scenario where he has to Learn About The World from Joe. That is because I want to make the point that the people on the crusades were people, and they went for a lot of different reasons, not all of which were intense personal religious belief. The crusades were an institution and operated institutionally. Even on the First Crusade, where there were a lot of ordinary people who went because of sincere religious belief, there was the usual bad behavior by soldiers and secular noblemen and people who just went because it was the thing to do. James Brundage has an article about prostitution and miscegenation and other sexual activity on the First Crusade; even at the height of this first and holy expedition, it was happening. So Nicky obviously isn’t going to be the moral exemplar because a) the crusades are horrific, he himself realizes that, and b) it’s just as historically accurate that he wouldn’t be anyway. Since the idea is that medieval crusaders were all just zealots and ergo Not Like Us is dangerous, I didn’t want to do that either. If we think they all went because they were all personally fervent Catholics and thus clearly we couldn’t do the same, then we miss a lot of our own behavior and our parallel (and troubling) decisions, and yeah.

As well, I made a deliberate choice to have Nicky’s kindness (which I LOVE about him, it’s one of my favorite things, god how refreshing to have that be one of the central tenets of a male warrior character) not to be something that was just… always there and he was Meek and Good because a priest or whatever else. Especially as I’ve gotten older and we’ve all been living through these ridiculous hellyears (2020 is the worst, but it’s all been general shit for a while), I’ve thought more and more about how kindness is an active CHOICE and it’s as transgressive as anything else you can do and a whole lot more brave than just cynicism and nihilism and despair. As you’ll see in the second half of the fic, Nicky (and Joe) have been through some truly devastating things and it might be understandable if they gave into despair, but they DON’T. They choose to continue to be good people and to try and to actively BE kind, rather than it being some passive default setting. They struggle with it and it’s raw and painful and they’re not always saints, but they always come down on the side of wanting to keep doing what they’re doing, and I… have feelings about that.

Anyway, this is already SUPER long, so I’ll call it quits for now. But thank you so much for this, because I love these characters and I love the story I created for them in DVLA, since all this is personal to me in a lot of ways, and I’m so glad you picked up on that.

#history #medieval history #queer history #dvla asks #long post #the old guard meta #anonymous #ask

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orlissa · 3 years

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Short History of the American Comic Book Industry, Part I (1929-1954)

No-one asked for it, but I can, so here it comes:

The 0th hour

The turn of the century: comics exist as political cartoons and comic strips in Sunday newspapers

Then we have The Funnies (1929-1930), which was, well, like a comic magazine, but not really. It was published weekly/monthly, was sold at newsstands, had new materisl, but it was described as “more a Sunday comic section without the rest of the newspaper.” It also folded quickly.

But then in 1933 some clever guys at the Eastern Color Printing Company had the great idea to reprint Sunday comics, so the printers wouldn’t be standing idle during the night. This became The Famous Funnies, which was given away as a promotional item by Procter & Gamble. It was a HUGE hit.

So the next year came Funnies on Parade, which is considered the first real American comic book. Because it was sold for money! (10 cents) And it had new material! First in black and white, then soon in color. And people loved it, and bout hundreds of thousand copies of it.

And then of course people started to realize that there was business in comics, and within a couple of years, everybody and their mother was publishing comics.

The Golden Age

Started with Superman—with Action Comics #1 in 1938

Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, who were high school buddies, had actually been working on the character since 1933. At some point, he was meant to be a villain. At another, he was meant to have been sent back from the future. They got $130 for the script.

He is also a Jewish assimilation fantasy (PSA: most of the big name from the early days of comics were Jewish) and kinda like Moses—somebody who is different, and is loved for being different.

And it was a total fluke that he ended up on the cover of Action Comics. If I remember well, publisher Jack Liebowitz decided on the cover the day before the issue went to printing.

Superman was everything that people loved: sci-fi, fantasy, mythology, pulp. They loved it.

Soon, everyone is doing superheroes. Like, everyone. There are a bunch of publishers, too, because everyone wants a slice of the profit. Most characters never get their own series, and are soon forgotten.

Batman came in 1939. Marvel also started publishing comics that year, but back then they were known as Timely comics. Their first characters were Namor and the Human Torch, but not the Johnny Storm Human Torch. Nope, this was an android.

People love comics, everybody is reading comics, and the most popular titles sells more than a million copies per issue. But it’s embarrassing to work on comics. If you want to be taken seriously as an illustrator/writer, you won’t admit that you’ve worked on comics. I bunch of comics from this era is uncredited.

Stanley Lieber started working for Timely at 17, in 1940 (he was a relative of the boss’ wife, that’s how he got the job). He wanted to be a serious a writer, so he knew he couldn’t have his real name featured in comics. So he signed his stuff as Stan Lee instead.

Most comics are about three times as long as the ones today, and they feature a wide range of different stories: superhero stuff, talking animals, western, slapstick… There is a huge variety of genres. Each story is about 10 pages long, and those are separate, self-contained stories. Comics are printed in cheap, bad quality paper, and they’re not meant to last, so there’s not really any point in creating much of a continuity.

Only Timely is kinda doing it by sow the seeds of the shared narrative universe.

Also, of course, Wonder Woman also debuts in 1941. Holy cow, her creator, William Moulton Marston, was some character. Even more so than how he is depicted in Professor Marston and the Wonder Women, which does a great job at showcasing his theories and a terrible job at showing the origins of Wonder Woman.

Atomic Age, transition, and witch hunt

The superhero bubble bursts after the end of WWII. The biggest characters were all about the war effort and patriotism, and we don’t really care about it anymore. The interest shifts to science fiction, horror, true crime (these two mostly read by returning GIs, NOT by kids), and most superheroes are forgotten. Some people call this period the Atomic Age of Comics

William Moulton Marston dies in 1947, and Robert Kanigher takes over writing Wonder Woman, replacing WMM’s bondage-infused “feminism” (the quotation marks are justified) with traditional femininity. Now it’s not about Diana bringing peace, but about her getting Steve marry her.

Captain America fights commies for a couple of issues in 1954, and it’s surreal.

Also, TV sets were becoming more popular, so kids turned to TV instead of comics.

Criticism against comics it also growing. Because it’s bad. It’s immoral, and it hurts the kids’ eyes, and it goes against physics and stuff.

The real problem is that for the first time, kids are deciding for themselves what to read—comics are cheap enough that they can buy them themselves.

People actually hold comic burnings in the late 1940s.

Then here comes Dr. Fredric Wertham, psychiatrist, who was working with juvenile delinquents in Harlem, and he had this idea that kids turned to crime because they were reading comics. And he was loud about it.

In 1954, he published a book titled Seduction of the Innocent, where he said stuff like Batman and Robin promoted a gay lifestyle (I’ll give it to him, those early Batman comics were pretty gay), Wonder Woman was a bad role model for girls (they weren’t supposed to want to be like her, because WW was independent and badass and stuff), and Superman made people believe physics didn’t matter.

He was wrong on many counts, of course, because, as said before, every kid was reading comics, and those who came from stable families didn’t turn to crime.

He eventually made such a noise that a senate subcommittee was set up to discuss whether comics were bad or not.

The side against comics was represented by Wertham, a charismatic professional. The side for comics was represented by the business heads of the comic publishers, who had no idea about the content of their publications. Because it just cannot go wrong, right?

(Except for William Gaines, the head of EC Comics, who said at the hearing that a cover featuring a severed head is in good taste for a horror comic. Not the best response in the given situation.)

In the end, the committee decided that there was little credibility in Wertham’s claims, but comics still might be a problem, so the industry should regulate itself.

So they formed the Comics Code Authority (CCA) as a self-censorship body for comics

They issues an editorial guideline that said stuff like good always has to win, authority figures cannot be shown in a bad light, crime cannot be shown, words like terror or horror cannot be shown on the cover, no monsters, no indecent clothes, etc.

If anyone wanted to publish a comic, they had to submit it to the CCA, and it decided if it was okay by the guidelines or it. If it was, it got a stamp—the seal of approval—on the cover.

The seal had no legal standing, but there was an agreement with the wholesalers that they would only carry comics with the seal.

On the short term, this led to the bankruptcy is a lot of publishers. It basically killed off the horror genre. On the long run, it created a market vacuum, that was filled in by a new wave of superhero titles (the Silver Age is coming, baby!), and also helped to establish the underground comix movement.

The CCA had a huge effect on the industry for decades, but it started to lose its power by the 70s. By the 90s, only four companies were in it. On of those, Harvey, went bankrupt in the 90s. Marvel left in 2001. DC, and finally Archie, in 2011.

#history of comics #mine #comics #golden age of comics #fredric wertham #cca

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years

Text

𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓢𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻 ❤︎

A/n: My moot from twitter made a whole thread that what if Harry wrote sunflower vol6. for some fan, she wanted the idea in words so here ya go!

Crowd just to admire Harry, cheering, loving, showering him in their evermost affection.

Harry performs like he was born for this; a punk rockstar with a flower crown on his head, bout to dominate the world just from his kindness.

After performing three songs he was engulfing in conversation with his fans and he points towards you but your friends gestures if he wants to talk to her.

You're wearing a pastel dress with hues of yellow accessories. You're so red in your own way, popping out from the crowd in the bloody bold way but you're shy and skittish around people.

You're just dancing along with your bestie, swaying your hips to only angel and then doing your own sexy moves to show your friend making fun of it afterwards.

Harry couldn't snatch his focus from you and the band noticed it so they teased him, tsking at him and mouthing him his pet name 'wep' under the loud shrivels of their guitars.

You wouldn't deny that you wanted to catch his attention too but you don't know how to.

Everyone's complementing him in their fondest way and whenever you parted your plump glossy lips to shout something nothing came out.

While playing guitar, Harry gazes at you intensely his brows furrowing when he sees that your bestfriend cupped your face to say something in your ear.

He's so fuckin' jealous. He wants to be there to cup your face, stroke you and maybe kiss you.

You looks so damn kissable. He thinks you're so golden beaming around the pink sky.

Now, when he's asking your friend's name out glancing at you from the corner of his eyes your heart drops. English isn't your first language, and this made your hands shake at the side.

You don't wanna fuck this up.

"What's your pretty name darlin'?" He smiles at you feeling a bit shy from your peer that's nothing but anxiousness, Sara and Mitch exchange looks with eachother while Harry waited patiently to get your calm voice to reach to him because at this point he can do everything.

"Y/n-y/n!" You're far from him so you shouted and it stuttered making you even more blush like a coral stone.

Fuckin' beautiful name, just like her Harry's heart gave a beat.

He doesn't want to dissapoint you by taking your name wrong, you're too precious to pronounce you differently that's why he reminisced your name many times under his breath before taking it.

"Y/n, right?" You bobbed your head a bit loosening up and smiling coyly fuck Harry wants to flop at ground just at this, "soo where are you from ba- y/n?"

"Not from here!" You told him now properly locking your eyes and Harry noticed your eyes colour's so common but looks so rare on you.

Harry mimicked you doing his comic accent, "No- Not from here, that's why asked ye' from where!?!" The crowd cheered and you laughed clutching your sides telling your country name.

"I hope you're havin' a good time, y/n." He grins combing his loose curls back and sipping his water, then throwing the water on the crowd intentionally so it would reach you and he could dive in another cute moment of you.

The whole show went like this but he wants you more than singing his melodies to you and he notices that you're getting exhausted and tired but utterly overloaded with cuteness forgetting lyrics to every other song now and then, your shoes aching you so you sat down but he jolts in panic thinking you just fell and is afraid you'll come under everyone's feet.

But when you again stood up he practically heaved shaking his to scold him that he shouldn't do this, he'll end up hurting himself from missing you and thinking about you everytime.

Getting attached too soon is Harry's weak point.

The show ended and he wanted to call you backstage but you were long gone leaving your sunflower-ey coral sunshine behind.

Harry went through his breakup going to Japan to give him his own solace, he went through his journal where he has written all his songs and his eyes fell over the cursive words he lovingly wrote on this specific side of his journal.

He wrote a song about you right after running backstage. Kid Harpoon wanted to make some changes in the lyrics but Harry criticised that no changes will be made in this particular song, he doesn't care if it's a hit or not, this came straight out of his heart and it matters alot to him.

One day he was wandering in london when you marched from a bookshop bumping square into one person you couldn't possibly imagine, Harry.

Your canvases, books, brushes everything flew to ground and Harry's on cloud nine a feeling of when he did shrooms spreads in his chest.

"Sorry. Shit yeah." You both said in unison squatting down to collect your things.

Your heads hitting and you giggled making Harry giggle too.

"Kay there's this saying in my culture that if your forehead gets hit by another person you should hit it twice else horns grows on your head." Your eyes glinting and he shakes his head gently pressing his head against yours.

He saw your fingers shaking so he again muttered a 'sorry' feeling bad for no-reason.

"Is it your painting?" He asked and you nodded taking the canvas from him, his touch's so soft you've only imagined it or heard from the people who met him that he has the softest warmest touch. "It's beautiful."

You're in awe of him. Ofcourse you love him but you don't know how much Harry's in love with you.

He's in awe of your talent too, he knew you'd love to paint from how vivid you're. It's one of the things he imagined bout you before going to bed.

Harry was taken aback by your respect for his consent when you asked him if you could hug him and he opened his arms wide for you.

"C'mere darlin'." Million sparks shooted inside his body when you coiled your arms around his neck because of your height, he's so happy he wants to cry.

Fuck this he wants you to be his and he's gonna drag his arse for it.

He sniffed in your shampoo and scent which's vanilla, strawberries and galaxies.

"Umm..y/n would you like to grab a coffee with me?" You are appalled. you never thought he'd remember you but who's gonna tell you that you were his only thought and the dream of his heart.

"Sure! Thank you." You beamed walking alongside of him to the nearest café.

Harry thinks you're so kind that maybe you felt rude to reject his offer but this's just his anxiety.

Anyways you talked to him about things he didn't know, you asked him how life's going even though his life's all where on the headlines.

You've never drank black coffee in your life but ordered it from the embarrassment of judgment from him and when you sipped it you practically gagged.

"Wanna swap, I just took a sip?"

"Thank you never drank black coffee in my life." He didn't asked you why but you yourself told him sipping from his and it's mocha sweet as him, "not very much common where I used to live."

Harry wants to get to know you more. About your culture, your interests and specifically just you.

"There's this get-together at my home this Saturday, would you like to come it's okay if you don't want to." He rubbed the back of his neck a little nervous.

"I'd love too!" You smiled even though you're all jittery from inside. You don't know what's happening but you're just going along with it.

"Kay. See ya there." He took your hand writing his number inside your palm and he swear that he felt like he dipped his hand into a sweet pudding when he held you.

You got ready with feathery makeup and simple outfit, you haven't told anyone that you met Harry. You've baked cupcakes for him because your mother has always taught you to never go empty hand to someone's house.

All the expensive cars parked at his driveway wanted to make you cry, you're so nervous.

Harry's nervy too he lectured everyone not to suffocate you and give her some space knowing how lovey-dovey his friends could be.

"And don't call me pet names infront her." He seriously told Jeff who offered him tequila but he pushed it away, there's no way he's getting drunk today. "Okay foof." Jeff patted him hardly.

"Hmm. Plannin' to become someone else's baby." Sara laughed sitting comfortably between mitch's legs and Harry shakes his head shyly snapping when the door bell rang.

He was out of breath when you were infront of him. He hugged you kissing your cheek and you took in his smell trying to calm yourself.

"Y'okay?" He frowned caringly placing his hands on your shoulders, your eyes are glassy that's why he asked.

Clearing your throat you handed him the cupcakes nodding and smiling, "yes umm here."

"Hi love!" Everyone greeted you and hugged you.

Harry was acting quite selfish taking the cupcakes inside his kitchen to eat them all to himself and when he came back you were chatting with his friends quite enjoying their company.

His mind crawls to the thought of you in between his embrace while his friends becomes your friends and you spending festives together, you hanging out with him at the places you love to be at.

You were praising their talents and then Harry's and he didn't miss the glimmer of admiration in your eyes for him.

"You're quite such a fan of Harry." One of his friends says and you just nodded not knowing what else to say. To everyone else you're just a fan that Harry invited to his home.

Harry glared him. The last thing he wanted to make you feel was invadilate your caring, humble and nice feelings towards not just Harry but to everyone.

"Can I steal y/n for a second?" Harry asked smiling down at you and Sarah spat playfully, "she's all yours."

"Uhh..thank you for these." He pointed at the delights you baked for him swelling his heart at your care and you shook your head.

"I love these on you." He indicated to the pearls around your neck. Hooking your finger to unclasp it you mumbled, "do you want it?"

But didn't waited for his answer and secured it around his neck. Shivers running down Harry's spine when the pads of your fingers brushed the baby curls over the nape of his neck.

"Thank you so much." Harry thinks he can't thank you enough. You just keep on giving him reasons to owe you, this's the perfect opportunity to love you and let you know.

He took you to his bedroom quickly going to his wardrobe and you looked around, he has frames of his family and his recently ex-girlfriend.

You don't know about her that deep but you know he was deeply in love with her, if ever you know how much he loves you.

In his recent interview he talked about how he met this person and the new album's all about exploring relationship. You think so the new songs will be about her, she really's so ravishing.

He came back sitting close to you and before you even properly look at him he locked a necklace around you.

A sunflower necklace falling between the valley of your cleavages. Harry has bought this for you in the hope that you'll meet him sometimes in this world again and wore it around his neck during the whole writing process of his album.

You opened the brass golden sunflower and it had 'you're my sunflower' encarved on it.

"You're the only cloud in my mind, the only dream of my heart. Can't stop thinkin' bout you it's been two years." You rubbed soothing circles at his knee closing distance between you two while he confessed his feelings for you.

"Please let me love you.." There was a crease on his forehead and you massaged it away smiling weakly at him because you don't think so if your heart's beating.

"I'm all yours to love." He whined at your words grasping you in his arms and shoving his face inside the crook of your neck.

"Can I kiss ye'?" He asked you and you intervined you fingers in his shaky ones.

Lips brushing his and his eyes fluttered close just at the approximty.

He placed your legs on both side of his torso flushing your chests together and peppering kisses all over your face carefully.

Pressing your temples against eachother when his lips were mere away from yours, and when you molded your hand around his face he leaned into kiss you.

Giving a hot swipe to the cupid bow of your lip, tasting every inch of you. Hands everywhere, kissed you and kissed you and kissed you until you weren't breathing his name.

"Fuck. Tastes just as I imagined." Your head fell against his toned pecs and he placed his lips over your hair hugging you tight for you could become one. His.

"M'little sunflower."

#imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles #fluff #sunflower vol. 6 #cute harry

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buzzdixonwriter · 3 years

Text

Representation

As a kid, Dondi mattered to me.

A comic strip drawn by Irwin Hasen and written by Gus Edson (and later Bob Oksner after Edson died), it was one of my favorites.

You want to accuse Dondi of being saccharinely sentimental, you go right ahead.

I won’t disagree with you.

But to little 6 year old Buzzy boy, that criticism didn’t matter (still doesn’t).

Dondi was an Italian kid growing up in contemporary America.

I was a half-Italian kid growing up in America -- in particular the American South, even more particular in Appalachia -- with a Neapolitan mom, so I identified very closely with Dondi.

Representation matters.

. . .

Now let’s state from the very beginning that the sense of connection I felt via representation in Dondi is but the merest smidgen of connection African-Americans felt when they first started seeing African-American faces in non-subservient roles in mainstream movies and TV shows.

Ditto what Hispanic Americans and Latinos and Asian-Americans and Native Americans and gays and lesbians and transgender folk all experience when someone like them isn’t presented as a stereotype.

It means something, and it means something important.

And because of the unique cultural matrix of the United States, currently it’s a lot easier for people in the dominant group (that’s you and me, wypipo) to imagine ourselves in the shoes (or sandals or moccasins) of The Other than for non-whites to imagine themselves in ours.

Kindly note I’m most emphatically not saying it’s impossible, just that it’s easier.

Problem: How does a writer from the dominant group -- in this case, yrs trly; an able older straight white Protestant male -- write stories that reach across that divide and engage all readers?

Gawd, I wish I knew…

. . .

I’ll tell you what I am doing quite consciously in my writing, then throw it open to feedback.

As much as possible, I try to downplay specific physical identifying characteristics in my stories.

If you read my fictoids or short stories, you’ll see I frequently eschew ethnic identification, physical descriptions not just of hair and skin color but size and age, often even names.

I aim for my characters’ personalities to come across in their dialog and their action, not on what I -- able older straight white Protestant male writer than I am -- imagine characters of certain ethnic / gender types to act like.

Is that good enough?

Does someone completely unlike me in real life read these stories and identify with the characters, thinking ”Yes, that person knows what I feel” ?

Or does that linkage fail, and the best I can hope for is “Cool story, bro” ?

It bothers me.

. . .

My current work in progress has reached the 92,000 word mark, and the first draft will probably end up somewhere in the 110,000 to 120,000 range (I tend to overwrite in my first drafts and trim back; I’m hoping to end up with something in the 80,000 to 90,000 range).

I have about 100 characters in it, some major, some minor, some mentioned just in passing.

The story takes place in New England, and historically that part of the country is predominantly white.

I have three characters of Vietnamese descent, but their family has lived in the area for three or four generations now, and culturally they’re thoroughly Americanized.

Another character has a last name that suggest Native American heritage.

Another has a first name more common among African-Americans than whites, but not unheard of among the latter.

Two characters share a thoroughly Irish surname.

Everyone one else has pretty generic bland middle American names that could belong to a multitude of ethnicities or people of mixed descent.

Physically, I’m very skimpy on descriptions.

One character is very tall, another is very muscular.

It is ironically noted that three characters are perfectly average for their gender and age group, almost identical in height.

One female character is noted to strongly resemble her brother, a football player. It is not a flattering comparison.

The only hair color ascribed to a specific character is clearly artificial, a dye job.

The most description afforded any character is an outsider to the main story, an comic relief character with facial hair.

That’s pretty much it as physical descriptions go.

Where I try to differentiate them is among speech patterns and what they want in the story.

The character trying to stir things up is clearly going to have a different tone and rhythm than a character trying to calm things down.

My question: Will readers who don’t see themselves specifically represented in a character relate to the story as a whole, imagining John Doe to be like them, or despite my efforts, will they still hold off on identifying with characters who lack specific group representation?

To quote an example from a culturally appropriated work: Is a puzzlement!

. . .

I don’t want to keep anyone out.

I want the doors of my stories opened as wide as possible.

I will never write with the intent of excluding any particular group of readers.

Is that enough?

#writing #writing report #how this writer's mind works #race relations #Dondi #Irwin Hasen

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healresolve · 4 years

Text

Lana’s portrayal is a synthesis of the traits she is given in both manga adaptations of FE4′s 2nd generation when compared against older translations of Genealogy. I borrow aspects that appeal to me from all three, but I lean heavily towards Genealogy and Fuyuki for inspiration with Oosawa being the one I draw the least from. The most fundamental traits I envision Lana possessing are Compassion and Insecurity.

The first is demonstrated through her insistence on fighting because she feels just as strongly as the more outspoken Larcei, challenging even Seliph on this. She also reaches out to Julia as the new girl in their already established group. A seasoned healer following in her mother’s footsteps for gameplay reasons, Lana has spent a great deal of time in the infirmary ward helping Adean who instilled in her the deep sense of caring for other people. The second, insecurity, I find is woven throughout her narrative and traceable to multiple sources. Adean, her mother, is widely desired by the men of Jugdral for her beauty and Lana inherits very little by way of appearance.

(Spoiler warning for Belhalla here. At this point most people are aware, but I want to tag it out of courtesy to anyone who does not wish to be spoiled for the Jugdral games.)

Another large factor stems from the fact that Lana feels immense guilt that even one of her parents survived when the same cannot be said for most of the other children raised in Tirnanog who lost them when Arvis executed Sigurd and his troops at Belhalla. Growing up Lana always struggled with having to share to her mother while keenly aware how selfish it was to feel that way. These profound self-doubts endow her with sensitivity towards the feelings of others, but also negatively manifests as jealousy in her relationships, most notably dictating how she interacts with Seliph. While it may get the better of her at times, it never stops Lana from considering the feelings of others which sometimes is at the cost of her own.

Resolve

Lana: “Nuns can fight too, you know. I feel just as strongly about this as Larcei does. The imperial troops are becoming crueler with each passing day. It’s dangerous just to be a girl anymore! But I don’t plan to go down without a fight. I have my own means of warfare!”

Seliph: “I’m sorry, Lana. You’re right. This is everyone’s battle. Alright. We should get going. It’s hard to say how this is going to turn out… But let’s give it everything we’ve got!”

Lana: “Sorry if I got a little outta hand, sir.

Lana is introduced as a stark contrast to her childhood friend Larcei. Larcei pulls no punches from the start and Lana comes across as a timid healer by comparison, but their dialogue makes it clear in no uncertain terms that they are both incensed by House Dozel’s mistreatment of the people of Isaach. She goes as far as opposing Seliph who she deeply respects because once he relents she immediately apologizes.

Fuyuki’s Lana does not hesitate to put herself between an attack meant for Julia.

Compassion

While her brother, Lester, and Diarmuid presumably took up riding from Oifey and the twins, Ulster and Larcei, and Seliph trained with Prince Shannan, Lana did not discover her place among them until feeling her heart ache for the first time after seeing them covered in bruises and scrapes from training. She had originally picked up healing as a way of easing the many burdens on her mother’s shoulder, but the most fulfillment in the fact she could treat the wounds of her dear friends in order to protect them in the future.

For the brief period of time where Lana serves as the group’s only healer, she experienced immense stress from feeling that she had become solely responsible for their lives. When Lewyn introduces Julia, Lana happily welcomes the second healer into the fold and goes out of her way to make sure she’s looked after. This was both for Julia’s own sake and that of Seliph, as she wanted to relieve him of having to worry about something else when the weight of the world had already been heavy on his shoulders.

Wit

Lana to Febail: Hah… I know better than that. I saw all those crying children clinging to you when we were leaving the Manster District. You’re like a father to them, you know.

Almost comically emphasized in the Oosawa manga, Lana and Larcei bounce off each other in many scenes with Lana teasing Larcei over subjects ranging from boys to personal blunders. This side of Lana is present in the game where Lana pokes fun at Febail for posturing as a tough guy too.

Lana’s occasional snark should be considered something reserved for people and places she is comfortable enough with the other person that it would not come across as rude.

Insecurity

Low self-esteem plays a large part in Lana’s speech patterns. This trait is present in all three characterizations of her. Sometimes she wallows over her poor self-image and other times it takes on the form of passive-aggressiveness. Should Seliph marry another girl by the end of the game and Lana remain unpaired, she expresses explicit jealousy and perhaps even resentment towards him for it.

Seliph : Lana...I’m sorry.

Lana : ...

Seliph : Lester said you were angry...

Lana : That’s because you...but it’s all right. I’ll just be going back to Jungby. So, farewell, Sir Seliph.

Lana: Seliph, we’ve just a little more go…

Seliph: Yeah. You’ve meant a lot to me out here, Lana. I really mean that.

Lana: Well, I don’t know if I’ve actually done anything… But I’m content just being by your side.

Seliph: Lana, we go pretty far back, don’t we… I remember us always hanging out as kids.

Lana: Uh-huh. I have so many good memories from back then, but I never thought you and I…

Seliph: But I’ve always liked you, Lana…

Seliph: I know… but it’s just hard for me to accept that, Seliph. I feel so awful to Julia…

Due to low self-esteem, Lana has a tendency to adopt blame even when there is no fault of her own. Her insecurities surrounding her mother and her upbringing make her feel unworthy of standing beside Seliph. That uneasiness does not go away if Seliph confesses to her either because she just finds something else to fixate on. In this instance, she worries that Julia may have also developed feelings for Seliph and cannot bring herself to enjoy the moment.

Closing thoughts

Most Jugdral characters have a handful of lines at best to extrapolate from. Outside sources such as Kaga’s dream scenario and the various FE4 mangas make an effort to flesh out the cast, but this results in characterizations that can be conflicting. Fuyuki’s manga presents Lana as a love interest for Seliph and this heavily influences her interactions with him. Oosawa, on the other hand, depicts a budding romance between Lana and Ulster.

I personally feel that Oosawa’s Lana is too immature to be congruent with her in-game counterpart, but I do like how her sense of humor and quiet wit shine that Fuyuki doesn’t manage to capture. Fuyuki’s Lana does, however, expand on the close relationship Lana has with Seliph. Regardless of whether anything comes of it, Lana’s bitterness towards Seliph if he takes another wife seems to imply closeness in some capacity at one point that just may not have developed in the same direction for him. I feel that Fuyuki stays faithful to the more introverted Lana seen in-game and I prefer this approach.

Nonetheless, I believe there’s value in all three existing for analysis’ sake. It enriches a character that would otherwise have even less to work with and I’m grateful for that. I love that Lana’s faults feel very much in-line with her age group. She has a wealth of interesting dynamics to draw from with every single character that was present in Tirnanog before the liberation efforts took off and honestly writing her gives me the excuse to flex how much I love Adean, haha.

#tbt #// long post #// long text #// the lana analysis no one asked for

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