#day 14 self insert

[nekoma-not-lee]

Day 14 - Self Insert

C!Tommy, C!Tubbo, C!Ranboo/C!Nekoma PLATONIC

Triggers - mentions of scars

Nekoma was trekking through the snow on their way to Snowchester. They weren’t the best with the cold even though they lived in the end, so they tried to get there as fast as possible. They were invited over for movie night and the benchtrio wouldn’t take no for an answer, so here they were in front of the mansion. They gave a soft knock on the front door, and waited for a few seconds, considering turning back when the door opened to reveal Tubbo.

“Neko! Come in!” He urgently rushed them inside before they could get second thoughts about being here. Then Tubbo started babbling, “Ranboo and Tommy are out getting cookies from Niki right now, so it’s just us two until they get back, and Michael, but he’s asleep!” Nekoma was being shoved gently by Tubbo towards the couch, while they half listened to Tubbo and half regretted their life choices. They honestly were going to say no until they realized they didn’t get a say in the matter.

After all, they were far too busy renovating the floating islands, moving the animals indoors for the winter. Of course the trio of minors thought that they worked too much and basically forced them to take a break, much to their dismay. So here they were, tuning out Tubbo’s excited chattering. Then they were startled by a poke by Tubbo a couple minutes later, “Neko, are you even listening?” They froze up at the poke and blinked a few times refusing to make eye contact with him, “Yes…?” Tubbo was confused at the sudden change in their demeanor, tilting his head, “You good, man?”

“Am I ever good…?” They half joked, with a tilt of their head. Of course their monotone expression never changed, even as they joked. Tubbo narrowed his eyes at Neko, “This is no time for jokes, did I hurt you or something, wait don’t answer that I know you’ll say no whether it’s the truth or not, lemme just check myself!” Tubbo babbled on and on, reaching for the spot he had poked. Nekoma didn’t really care, and allowed him to lift the part of their cropped sweater to expose the place he poked.

When he revealed the skin underneath, he gasped, noticing loads of scarring, mainly from burns from the rain, others from fights that they had won. Tubbo curiously and cautiously poked at one of the scars, being as gentle as he could be. The poke produced a small squeak from the ender dragon spawn, causing them to cover their mouth in surprise. Tubbo looked up at Neko, took in their flushed features, and smiled, finally realizing what was going on. Tubbo then smirked, “Nekoooooo~” Said dragon tilted their head, “…..yeahhhh???”

“Are you ticklish?~” Tubbo’s question sounded innocent enough, but Nekoma knew he had ulterior motives. Either way they answered, Tubbo was gonna test it out, and they knew that, “Ummm….isn’t that a mortal flaw? Us gods don’t have the same nerve endings as mortals do….we can’t get…what was the word?” They didn’t actually forget the word, they just refused to say it because for some reason it made them flustered. “Ticklish was the word! So if I were to test that, you wouldn’t mind…would you?~” Tubbo didn’t wait for an answer and pounced on Neko, but of course they were expecting this, nabbing Tubbo’s wrists.

But suddenly Tommy and Ranboo returned, entering the mansion, “We’re baaaaackkkkk!” Tommy yelled out, then suddenly they both had eyes on the situation their two friends were in, Tubbo trying to escape so they can pin them down, “Guysssss help! Neko won’t let me tickle themmmm!” Tubbo whined, pouting. Tommy and Ranboo took one look at Neko after that, before they were pinned down by Tommy and Ranboo, with Tubbo’s hands freed. Now let’s just be clear, if they really didn’t want this to happen, they could easily escape or tell them not to and they’d listen. But let’s be honest, Neko has never been tickled before and is curious what it feels like, that’s the only reason, it’s not like they’ll like it right?”

But of course the trio knew that if they didn’t want this, they could escape, which was why they didn’t hold back. Tubbo’s fingers started pinching all along their ribs, near where he poked the first time. Nekoma’s mouth quirked upwards and then they let out a squeak as Tommy’s hands then found their hips, squeezing, gently. They were attempting to holdback their giggles, but when Ranboo’s hands joined in at their knees, they instantly crumbled, letting out high pitched peals of laughter, so unlike their monotone voice. “THAHAHAT FEHEHEELS WEHEHEIRD!” Tubbo awed, “Wait have you not been tickled before, we’re so lucky to have been the first!”

Nekoma squealed and giggled all throughout the night, but never once did they ask for it to stop. They did eventually stop, but Neko’s got stamina so they weren’t even phased after they calmed down. The trio never pointed out how Neko never asked for them to stop. But why wouldn’t they? Maybe they liked it? …Nahhh, they would never, they’re above such mortal activities. They all ended up having a sleepover, Nekoma for once…sleeping soundly without any care in the world other than who was there with them…they swore to themselves….that they would protect them…at all costs…

[x-doom-and-gloom-x]

Would you hire us

[yandereboykissingcorner]

Today I offer doodles,,, I can't promise I'll make anything more ever and I'm so sorry for that

[alexsisshadow]

Contemplation.. The Ren sona is cute but Redacted all the way for me.

[danafeelingsick]

Novemetober 2023

Also happy Valentine's day ❤️

@monthofsick

Prompt list | Masterlist | AO3 collection

Day 14: Can't keep anything down

* combined prompts visibly ill and out of character

Word count: 1.4k~

CONTENT WARNINGS: narrated in 2nd person, y/n is a maid at Dawn Winery in this one, gender-neutral reader, descriptions of vomiting, descriptions of food

Anon asked: Hi, for the Nov(emeto)ber 2023 requests, could I have Diluc with prompt 14. Can't keep anything down? Thanks!

(let me know if you want to be tagged!)

A/N: so, whenever i'm feeling down i daydream about being one of diluc’s maids and these very overindulgent scenarios of one of being sick and the other, you get the gist. I was writing this myself anyways and it reeks of overindulgent mary sue. hope it's serviceable, i live in shame!

Dawn Winery's upper floor would usually be empty by the afternoon, when the staff would focus its efforts on cleaning after lunch. You found it perfect, at least no one else would see if master Diluc were to reprimand you for being nosy. You had already made up your mind.

You weren't the only one wondering why the young master hadn't left his room the entire day. While it wouldn't be out of place to say he could’ve left during the night on a one-man-expedition, no one had seen him leave. And you didn't think you could wait a week or even a month without notice to confirm that theory.

You reached his room, and found the door locked, though that didn't stop you from knocking. You listened closely for any sounds on the other side, and after what felt like several moments of silence, you knocked again for good measure, before you accepted that he had really left.

It took a minute. You only heard the muffled steps when they were already close, and the creak of the door as it crept open. It was just enough for the young master to shily peek through.

You almost didn’t recognize him at first. Behind the mop of fiery curls, his heavy-lidded eyes brimmed with tears, standing out against his pale complexion. His freckled nose and cheeks were also flushed pink, which made you suspect he could’ve been dealing with a high fever.

You had been right to worry. Diluc looked like death warmed over, and must’ve been feeling like it as well, judging by his affixed frown. His usually put together appearance was something you couldn't evoke at the moment. He slouched against the doorframe, shivering despite still being dressed in his pajamas. Could it be that the man had just gotten out of bed?

“What is it…?”, when he finally spoke, after staring at you for a while, his voice was hoarse, barely louder than a whisper.

“Ah…, pardon my intrusion! I've come to, uh, check if you need anything”, you started, already losing yourself on the script you had rehearsed. “The other maids were worried. You haven't left your room all morning, so, uh…”, as the words fell out of your mouth, Diluc’s expression seemed to sink. “Master Diluc?”

For a moment, you thought he was going to keel over, he certainly looked like he would at any moment. Heaving a shaky sigh, Diluc closed his eyes, and ran a shaky hand over his face.

“What time is it again?”, he asked slowly, as if the words weren't coming to him as easily.

“It should be around midday”, you responded, watching as Diluc pauses, his palm pressed to his eye.

“A-Already…?”, he muttered, to himself rather than to you, and combed his fingers through his hair. Red strands stuck to his clammy skin, beaded with sweat. “I must've lost track of time… I don't think I did all th… —”

The sentence turns to muttering as he presses his forehead to the door frame, looking frustrated as his eyes slide shut. You observed him for a moment longer. The man breathes heavily, his whole body trembling noticeably under the thin fabric of his pajamas, his eyebrows pinned into a frown. It almost feels like a scene you weren’t meant to see, you worry he would simply fall asleep on the spot.

“Um, sir?”, you spoke up, raising a hand as needing to leap and catch him mid-fall was becoming a real possibility. Thankfully, he opens his eyes at your call, blinking as if he barely recognized you. “Is everything okay? You don't seem well.”

Diluc glances up at you through his eyelashes, his look nearly pleading. He hums weakly, managing to nod.

“I-I believe I might be… sick”, he confesses, and it almost sounds like he's embarrassed. “I don't know when… it got this bad, but…”, he pauses, swallowing thickly. “I don't feel well at all.”

You hummed thoughtfully, taken aback by his honesty. He sounded so vulnerable, timid almost, you had never seen such a side of him before. You had never taken him for someone who would ask for help either, as quietly and reserved as you thought him to be.

“Oh no… Is there anything I could get you? Some tea, or maybe…”, you offered. “Have you eaten yet? Lunch has already been served, but I could still arrange something, if you wish.”

At your offer, the young master lets escape an uncomfortable sound, though he doesn't make an effort to hide it. He slowly shakes his head, his expression still tense.

“I haven’t had much appetite as of late”, he tells you quietly, swallowing as his hand wanders to his abdomen. You see the fabric of his pajamas stick to and can't help but think he looked rather thin without his black coat. “Wouldn’t it be too much trouble if I asked for something light on the stomach?”

“Of course not, I can make you some soup in a few minutes”, you promptly reassure him, to which he gives a slow nod. “Okay. Try to rest while I’m away, alright?”

“Ah, of course. Thank you… I’ll try”, he lets out a small chuckle, though that glint in his eye doesn't last. You try not to dwell on it as you bow and take your leave.

You softly knock on the door, a tray of hot soup balanced in your other hand and a moment later, you let yourself in. The young master sleepily glanced up at you from his bed, peeking from under a nest of red curls. He still shivered, even cooped up under several blankets. You feel the urge to feel his forehead and check for yourself the fever he was running, but you knew you would be overstepping at that point.

“Master Diluc?”, you call, trying to keep your voice hushed. “I’ve brought your soup.”

“Ah, right… thank you”, he answers weakly, his expression becoming somewhat strained. You wait as he begins to sit up, one hand wandering under the covers to hold his stomach.

You gently place the tray on his lap and he regards its contents with a slight frown, his lips pressed thin. You were able to make a simple cream soup in less than half an hour, careful to keep its flavor mild and texture smooth. It didn't look bad to you, but you didn't blame the young master for being cautious.

You see his throat shift as he swallows, his mouth seemingly watering.

“Take it slowly. Try a spoonful and if you feel you can't swallow it, just spit it out”, you told him, unfolding a napkin for safety.

Diluc is hesitant at first, but he does as you say and picks up a spoon, trying a small sip. His face is tense if not unreadable, his hand floats up to his mouth, but he manages to swallow it.

There is a pause before he stiffly eats more, his expression turning sour as he forces it down. It isn't exactly pleasant to watch, but you are somewhat relieved he is at least trying. You let him eat in silence, managing to get through half of the plate before his face turns to disgust.

“You don't need to eat it all if you can't”, you warn him, but he simply shakes his head, forcing down another spoonful of warm soup.

“N-No, I… want to eat it”, he replies weakly, his voice held back by his spasming throat.

“Just… remember to pace yourself”, you advise him as he goes for yet another bite. “The food is not going to run away from you.”

Before he has the chance to respond, the man freezes, the empty spoon still lingering by his lip when a nauseated moan stumbles out of his lips. That is the only warning he can give as he starts reversing and his cheeks suddenly fill. You can practically hear the soup swirling inside his mouth before he clasps a hand over it and desperately tries to swallow.

You think fast and grab a few napkins, balling it into a makeshift nest before you hold it to his chin.

“Ah, here!”, you try to tell him, but Diluc refuses, stopping mid head shake when his stomach visibly heaves under his thin shirt.

“H— URK!” Vomit sprays out from between the cracks of Diluc's fingers, coating his hand in the warm pale slurry that had become the soup he ate just moments prior. Some of it drips uselessly into the cloth held out, staining your gloves as well as the entire front of his once white shirt, making it nearly see-through as it sticks to his chest.

“EuRgh!” He gags graphically, pulling his soiled hand away as his mouth falls open.

This time you manage to hold the cloth under his chin, catching the next surge of undigested soup as it pours out of his lips. It quickly soaks into the fabric, staining it a deeper sickly yellow from the bile. You grimace as you notice it somehow feels even hotter than when it was plated.

For the sake of your own gag reflex you look away, affording the young master a smidge of privacy as he continues to empty his stomach. He heaves weakly, releasing another stream of vomit into your hands, the pungent smell of digestive acid takes hold of the room. You hear liquid gurgle in the back of his throat as it tapers off, and he sets off coughing as if he's drowning. It sounds painful, and you don't doubt it feels like hell on his throat and already sensitive stomach.

You risked a glance as you heard Diluc hiccup, seemingly done, though you didn't expect to find his eyes screwed shut, clear tear tracks trailing down his cheeks. His face was a mess of sick and snot, beet red as if he was straining to hold in his sobs. You took pity on him, though you decided to act on it rather than show.

Quickly, you fold the soiled napkins and leave it on the tray, exchanging it for a clean. Diluc’s breath hitches as he feels you touch him, though he doesn't try to pull away from it.

“Shh, it's okay”, you ease him, running the cloth over his mouth. He takes it from you, busying himself with it as you pull his hair out of the way, grimacing at the heaviness of the matted now vomit-soaked hair.

“I-I’m sorry, I — ”, he tries to apologize, his voice bordering on a whimper, but you stop him, offering tender words instead.

“No, no, it's fine”, you insist, picking up the tray, trying not to look at the mess in it. “I’ll clean it over here and then I’ll prepare a bath for you, okay? We can try again later with… maybe, something else.”

[autumntay]

I'm very normal about Ren

[stimulatory]

throws these out into the wind here and scampers away

[dia-draws]

A self insert cause cringe is dead.

She gets isekaid through the games she’s played and tries and worries abt getting killed either by a bad route or by getting the wrong yandere’s attention

[girlscience]

@people who have a stable sense of self and identity, what's that's like? how's it feel to be beloved by the universe?

[emo-gremlin]

Behold a collage of doodles I've done at work during breaks/lunch

There are multiple draw the squad memes in here and I take no credit for them!

[trashyswitch]

Day 14: Self-Insert (OC & Canon)

Pocket and Blathers were talking in the café. Blathers soon starts bringing up childhood memories, and Pocket comes up with a question: Is Blathers still able to be tickled?

Day 14...Almost halfway! I can't believe it, honestly. It's crazy.

Pocket was hanging out at the cafe, talking with Blathers. Well…more like Blathers was doing the talking while Pocket listened. But she didn’t mind. She liked hearing Blathers ramble on and on about the dinosaur era and the different types of dinosaurs. 

“The Brachiosaurus, whose name means 'arm lizard'—eh, wot—was one of the largest herbivorous dinosaurs. Due to its long front legs and elongated neck, it seems to have specialized in eating plants up high. Isn’t that interesting?” Blathered told her. 

Pocket nodded. “It’s really interesting. I wish I could find the pelvis for that fossil. I almost have it completed.” Pocket told him. 

“Well, if you do find it, then by all means let me know!” Blathers said. 

Pocket nodded. “Will do.” 

“What else is there…Oh! The saber tooth tiger! Where do I even start?!” Blathers reacted. 

Pocket nodded and listened to his facts on Saber tooth tigers. 

“Chief actor in my most terrifying nightmares, the Saber Tooth Tiger was a mighty predator of long ago. Its most famous feature, obviously, is its razor-sharp, eight-inch-long, t-t-te-tee-te-tee... FANGS!” Blathers told her. 

Pocket tilted her head. “It sounds like you’re scared of it.” She mentioned. 

“Sc-Scared? Now…what-what brought on that idea? Heheh…” Blathers stuttered. 

Pocket shrugged her shoulders. “Just a hunch, I guess.” She took a sip of her coffee. 

“Well, I will assure you, I am NOT scared of it. I’m merely…interested in its anatomy. Teeth didn’t sound like the right word. Fangs sounded better.” Blathers tried to explain himself. 

But Pocket wasn’t buying it. “Uh huh…” 

“Now what’s another one…Hmmm…” Blathers thought. “Hoot HOOT! I know! The megacerops!” Blathers declared. “Now let me see…” 

Pocket smiled as she remembered the look of the fossil in completion. She felt proud of herself for finding all the pieces for that dinosaur, and that it’s now displayed in the museum. 

“This large fellow was a bit like our modern rhinoceros, but with two horns on its nose! Sadly, their small teeth restricted them to a diet of rather soft plants, and eventually they died out.” Blathers explained. 

“Oh…That’s unfortunate.” Pocket reacted sadly. 

“Oh well. Now we can bring it back to life!” Blathers declared. Then he coughed and cleared his throat. “By showing off its bones, of course…” Blathers explained. 

“I think I would be terrified if dinosaurs suddenly came back to life.” Pocket admitted. 

“Oh…Yes, me too.” Blathers replied. “On one hand, I would be very fascinated to know what they look like as more than just bones. But on the other hand…” Blathers shuttered. “I would be t-t-terrified.” Blathers admitted. 

“Me too…” Pocket admitted before taking another gulp of coffee. 

“I must say, this coffee really tickles my feathers. It tastes wonderful!” Blathers said, taking a break from his info dumping sessions. 

Pocket giggled as she took another gulp of her coffee. She was a little more than half done with her coffee now. 

“Hehehe…Tickles my feathers…Reminds me of when Celeste was a little chick in the nest.” Blathers admitted. 

Pocket widened her eyes. She’s never heard Blathers talk about Celeste as a chick before. She wanted to know more. 

“Tell me more!” Pocket spoke up. 

“Hoo? About Celeste? Well…She got her degree in-” 

“No no, when Celeste was a chick.” Pocket interrupted. 

“Ooooh. Very well.” Blathers adjusted himself on the chair. “When Celeste was a little chick, she had the cutest little chirp. And I heard it so often! I never got bored of it.” Blathers explained. 

Pocket listened as she drank more of her coffee. 

“And she loved to be tickled on the neck. I would always use one of my feathers to tickle her before her feathers started to grow. It’s often recommended that you tickle them in that time frame…They say it encourages them to grow their feathers faster to stop the tickles, hehehe.” Blathers admitted. 

Pocket giggled in response. “That’s so cute!” She reacted. 

“It was plenty adorable. But it’s hard to tickle Celeste these says…especially now as she’s grown up. I miss it…” Blathers admitted. 

Pocket then tilted her head as she wondered something. “And who tickled you as a chick?” Pocket asked. 

Blathers hooed and looked at you. “Oh! Me?!” Blathers asked, the sides of her beak going red. “Hoo hoo…Well, my momma did.” Blathers admitted. 

Pocket smiled. “And I’m guessing your feathers stop you from being ticklish now?” Pocket asked. 

“They stop the soft tickles, like feathers and grass. Feathers on feathers just does not work.” Blathers explained. 

“And…what about rough tickles? Like…brushes? Claws?” Pocket asked. 

Blathers grew more and more scarlet red with every question. “Hoooooo…This is becoming a little embarrassing.” Blathers admitted. 

Pocket giggled and poked Blathers’ foot with the front of her shoe. Blathers let out a loud HOO and covered his beak with his wings. “Hoo my goodness! I apologize for that.” Blathers admitted. 

Pocket widened her eyes and smiled brightly. It sounded like there was one area blathers COULD be tickled…

The feet. 

Pocket took off her shoe and her sock. She grabbed a red feather from her inventory that she collected earlier, and put the stem end into the space between her big toe and her second toe. Then…she started flicking the feather against Blathers’ foot. 

Blathers yelped and hooed loudly as a big smile grew on his beak. He quickly threw his head back and laughed with glee. “HAhahahaha! Hohohohoho! Ihihi shohould’ve known you would dohohoho thihihihis!” Blathers reacted. 

Pocket smiled brightly as she switched from one foot to the other foot. “Kitchy kitchy koo~” Pocket teased. 

Blathers hid his face in his wings as he continued to laugh. “Yohohohou’re mehehehehean!” Blathers whined. 

Pocket giggled at those words. 

Pocket looked around at the cafe to see if anyone noticed. And then her eyes widened as they fell on someone familiar…and very convenient…

Celeste was here too! She happened to be talking to some other villager who was visiting the island. 

But her focus went right back to Blathers as soon as she felt the feather slip out from her toes. 

Wait, what- 

“Ihihi gohohot ihihihihit! Ihi got ihit!” Blathers cheered. “Nohow come here:” Blathers opened up his wings and fluttered them rapidly before diving towards Pocket’s side of the table. 

Pocket screeched and gasped as she felt ticklish feathers fluttering under her armpits. 

OH NO! 

“PFFFTAAAAHAHAHAHahaha! BLAHAHATHEHEHERS!” Pocket laughed. 

“Thahat’s what you get for tickling me.” Blathers said back. “Only one unfortunate thing for you:” Blathers smirked as she lowered her voice down to a little whisper. “You can’t grow feathers.” 

Pocket curled her neck in as she snorted and laughed from the ticklish words against her neck. 

Then, Blathers laid Pocket down on the booth like it was a couch and wrapped his feet around Pocket’s upper arms to steady them. With her arms steadied, Blathers started tickling Pocket’s poor, vulnerable neck.

Pocket immediately curled her neck left and right. Blathers was being so mean to her! Though, Pocket knew she kinda deserved it. Pocket struggled in Blathers’ grip as she tried to move her arms to get out, covering up one side of her own neck at a time to lessen the tickles. But her efforts were completely fruitless. Blathers just kept tickling the side of the neck that became vulnerable whenever Pocket hid the one side. 

“Coochy coochy coochy coochy coo!” Blathers teased. 

“Well, look who’s fallen victim to my brother's tickles…” Someone said behind Blathers. 

Blathers let out a surprised ‘HOOT!’ sound and turned around. “Celeste! Hi! I- Uh…” Blathers tried to say, pausing his tickle attack. 

Pocket’s laughter lessened to little giggle fits as she curled her neck left and right to try and stop the phantom tickles that were still leaving her breathless. 

Celeste was crossing her pink wings all sassy as she shook her head with a smirk. “Is this your way of teaching Pocket about the different bones in the body?” Celeste asked. 

“No no no. Pocket started it with this.” Blathers pointed to the red feather that was sitting under the table a few feet away from them. 

Celeste widened her eyes and looked at her own wings to make sure the feather wasn’t hers. 

Blathers laughed as he watched Celeste check her own wings for any feathers out of place. “No need to worry, Celeste. This feather has orange on it as well. So there is a high chance this feather does not belong to you.” Blathers told Celeste. 

Celeste let out a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was to leave little feathers all over the island…

“Ihi don’t know who the feather belongs to…All I know is that I found the feather under the table…” Pocket admitted. 

“And Ms. Pocket over here, decided to try tickling my foot with the feather! The nerve!” Blathers reacted. 

Celeste just laughed. “Come on, Blathers…Is it really that bad?” Celeste asked. 

Blathers narrowed his eyes at Celeste. “Just because you like tickling, doesn’t mean everyone does.” Blathers warned, silently letting go of one of Pocket’s arms to point at his sister. 

“Now I didn’t say that…” Celeste reminded him. 

“Well, you did sa- HooOOOHOHOHOHOOT!” Blathers quickly looked towards Pocket as he doubled over and bursted out laughing all over again. 

Pocket was smirking widely as she tickled the tops of Blathers’ feet with a purple feather this time. 

Celeste tilted herself sideways to look at Pocket, and threw her head back with a laugh when she saw what was going on. “How many feathers do you have?!” Celeste asked. 

Pocket giggled in response as she moved the purple feather tip into the open area between Blathers toes. “Too many.” Pocket replied. 

“Ihi can see that!” Celeste reacted with a giggle. 

Tickling Blathers in between the toes was enough to make Blathers let go of Pocket’s arms completely. With her arms now fully free, Pocket could pull out a second feather (a rainbow feather this time,) and tickle his other foot at the same time. 

“OHOHOKAHAY, THAHAT’S EHEHENOHOHOUGH!” Blathers ordered. 

Pocket didn’t want to go overboard. So, she immediately stopped the moment Blathers gave the first order. 

She put the feathers back into her pockets before Blathers could steal them from her. Blathers giggling filled the room for a few minutes more, while Celeste and Pocket smiled as they listened to his giggles. 

But then his giggles began to continue for a little longer than they should’ve…

And then they started getting louder and more evil-sounding. 

“You really thought you could tickle the tickle monster and get away with it?” Blathers said with an evil smirk on his face. 

Pocket widened her eyes as she realized the predicament she was now in. 

Uh oh…

“Can I join in?” Celeste asked. 

Blathers guffawed. “Well, of course! How can I say no to you?” Blathers reacted. 

OH NO–

Pocket ended up getting tickled for another 10-20 minutes. She also ended up catching the attention of the rest of the villagers at The Brewster. By the time Blathers and Celeste had stopped tickling her, there was a crowd of villagers watching the scene play out. It was quite funny for Blathers and Celeste. 

For Pocket…It was still fun, though a little embarrassing. 

And for months afterwards, Pocket would occasionally get poked by wings, fingers and paws by the different villagers. The villagers that watched Pocket at the Brewster must’ve started spreading the rumors of where Pocket was ticklish…because even villagers who weren’t originally there for the scene had started tickling Pocket a small bit too. It was quite the fiesco for the human, female villager. 

And though Celeste didn’t really know this…Pocket ended up not minding the tickles either. 

[clownboymcchucklefuck]

14dwy Insert!

I was in a rush to post this so I'll have to reblog with more information about them later when I have the time

I have another OC that is my main MC for 14dwy but since this is the only one done your stuck with the self insert for rn 💀

Also I know it says detective but I forgor to add the librarian part dhajdjngnr

@14dayswithyou

[arabella377]

you ever read books

[bakahimesama]

Get booped, idiot

[incorrectbatfam]

If you could create and add a new DC character, what would they be like?

I'm going to tell you about David, and knowing you guys, you'll agree with me when I say he should have his own comic.

David has been my best friend literally since we were 8. He is the only constant I've had through my life. He introduced me to the drums and helped me get a motorcycle after I got my license. We are each other's platonic ride or die. If he asked me to bury a body, I'd do it no question, and I know he'd do the same for me.

That said, I clearly have the braincell in this friendship.

Don't get me wrong, he's smart in certain aspects. He's a talented musician, good athlete, taught himself to fix most plumbing issues, speaks decent Japanese, easily clicks socially, and is super empathetic. But in others, he's like a plate in a knife drawer.

Some highlights from over the years:

He ate the brown paper bag his lunch came in on a field trip

He thought hot chocolate was just cocoa powder (no milk or water) in a mug and the microwave would melt it. His sister had to call the fire department

He gave a stray dog his scarf for warmth and never saw that scarf again

He licked the dust off an XBox controller

He got a speeding ticket outside the DMV literally five minutes after getting his license

He made gender reveal cupcakes to come out to the rest of our friend group when we were 17, but he threw them into a Ziploc and they jostled around his backpack for half a day before lunch

He thought closing a browser tab would get rid of a computer virus

He tried hotboxing his own car while driving

He almost seasoned his food with pepper spray before someone stopped him

He had a tire swing on a tree in his backyard. He decided to stand on it while swinging and smacked his forehead against a branch in front of him. It was literally the most hollow thwock ever, as if confirming his lack of braincells. He then proceeded to get pissed off and punch the tree. He said it was his most gender-affirming experience

He brought me along on a family road trip and used me as a footrest in the car

He frequently writes drum tabs the way he'd write guitar ones (in short the two are very different kinds of sheet music and I'd need three hands to play them). He absolutely knows better. I think he's messing with me at this point

He mistook wasabi powder for matcha

He once got drunk at a frat party, crawled out the lawn of the house, and began eating grass like a cow

I wanted to know what kissing a dude was like out of curiosity and this was before he started physically transitioning, so to make it a more "authentic" experience, he gargled Gatorade beforehand

He tried to make his first battle jacket with washable Crayola markers

He also tried to dye his hair with his sister's watercolors

He's worn the same sweatshirt since he was 14 and I think I can count on one hand how many times I've seen him wash it (I was over at his house a lot)

He's the motherfucker that wears running shorts in the snow

He thought his area code would automatically change when we moved to a new state

He once kicked a soccer ball into an oncoming train

BONUS: when he came out to his parents, they were accepting and while he was at school, his dad mounted a fish on David's bedroom door because men I guess

So yeah, if I worked at DC, I'd insert David in the background of every comic just being his chaotic himbo self. David is beyond space and time. There could be a battle on fucking Oa and David would just be there doing a kickflip. That's who I'd choose.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Hello! I just finished reading all your writing.. i feel like your characterisation of coop is just so good!

Lately i’ve been fixated on how Cooper would feel about a plus sized partner.. (definitely not just because I’m plus sized myself)

Part of me feels his postwar ghoul self would be feral (pardon the pun) for a woman with a soft squishy body, especially a soft tummy and ass he can sink his fingers into, because someone like that would be so rare in the wastelands, and because it would be so different to his own physique

(Anon, I have a secret to share with you before we even get into headcanon territory; I'm a size 14-16ish, myself, so I definitely relate. I try to keep my reader-insert characters as nondescript as is reasonable in order to keep them accessible, but honestly? Every single character I've ever written is fat, or at least midsized. I feel like my use of words like "soft" and "plush" to describe them, plus references to tummies and bellies, might expose me a bit on that front. Thanks for reading and thanks for the ask!)

Prewar!Cooper Howard just loves women in general, all shapes and sizes. Big fan. He appreciates the female form in every one of its many variations. Back home, he knew plenty of bigger girls, curvier girls, and dated several before he met and fell head over heels for Barb. Once the two of them move to California, there's a noticeable decline in the variation of body types around him, and while he finds the women around him beautiful as well, he also finds himself sort of missing the higher concentration of softer ladies.

After she gives birth to Janey, Barb is pretty self-conscious about her body, but Cooper is quick to reassure her that she is just as beautiful as she was before (even moreso to him since she's grown softer in such nice places, frankly, but he doesn't think that's a proper thing to say out loud). She experiences a lot of pressure to be conventionally thin in her role as an executive, and while he supports her ambitions and what she wants to do with herself, it makes him feel terrible to see her so down on her body sometimes when he loves her (and it) so much.

Post-divorce, I think that a bigger partner, especially someone comfortable in their looks, their personal style, would be a welcome change to him. Like I said in my response to the question about him with a partner with body hair, I think he'd enjoy being with someone who wasn't so "L.A. perfect"; more authentic, at least to him.

He really loves a soft belly on a woman, and it's a treat that's been denied to him for so long. Of course, his favorite place to cum is inside you in whatever form he can get it, but he also likes to spurt all over your breasts and tummy, the sight of the mess cooling on your skin enough to get him going again more often than not. It drives him doubly crazy if you play in it a bit.

Also likes a good tit fuck. Likes it even more if you've got big enough breasts to do it while you sit on the floor in front of him. Getting to smoke a cigarette and sit back and watch you jerk him off with your tits is high up on his list of favorite ways to relax after a stressful day, especially if you tease the head of his cock with your lips and tongue.

Finds big nipples/big areolas very sexy; if you've got either (and definitely if you've got both), you might end up having to fend him off of your chest every once in a while with as often as he'll like to suck and lick and nip the poor things until they're all puffy and sore.

Enjoys using his ability to still pick you up and toss you around as a way to show off to you. It makes him feel virile and strong, so I hope you don't mind a little manhandling from time to time...

The Ghoul is always very pleasantly surprised to see anyone with some substance to them, physically; it's not necessarily that fat or midsize people don't exist, but the incidence of folks who are malnourished, stunted, and emaciated has certainly increased as the centuries have crept by.

He has always been a fairly lean and wiry guy, and life has given him more and more hard edges, so he adores a plush partner; round face, full lips, soft overall features. Big, soft hair, even. It's such a fascinating contrast to himself, to everything around him. The Wasteland is so harsh and strips every last bit of life it can out of every last thing that inhabits it, so to see someone so vivacious and supple...you are spellbinding to him before he even gets to touch you, to say the least.

When he does get to touch you, he wants to be respectful, trying his hardest to control his urge to rip your clothes away and grip your supple skin in his bare hands. He's trying so hard to reconnect with the more tender, gentlemanly part of himself, if it even still exists. But you seemingly have no idea how wild you drive him, how badly he wants to pin you down and feel your warm, pliable form beneath his, kind and sweetly flirty as ever despite how thin his self control is wearing. It's not long before the feeling he's trying to ignore consumes you both and he becomes intimately familiar with just how soft your body really is.

The man already had a breeding kink long ago, but it comes back with a vengeance if he meets the right person. He already finds himself drawn to your wide hips and thick thighs, but once he's fallen for you, once he's decided that you're his and he wants you to be his forever, they take on a whole new light. All he can think about his how good those wide hips would feel in his hands as he pumps you full, how beautiful your little tummy would look adorned with a baby bump.

Big fan of thigh-fucking, especially if you're not particularly rad-resistant; its a nice way for him to put you on your back, your legs on his shoulders the way he likes, pumping away at you in a way that feels natural without having to worry about making you incredibly sick or hurting you if he can't pull out in time. Or if he produces a lot of precum, which he is prone to. You both love and hate it, the head of him bumping and teasing against your clit depending on the angle, but never stimulating you enough to make you cum yourself. Fortunately, he's quite faithful about planting his head between your thighs and finishing you off once he's done.

If you are rad resistant, he still loves it; in fact, he loves it even more because he can fuck your thighs until he's about to finish, and instead of coating your stomach and mound, he can shove his weeping cock inside you at the last second and breed you, the sudden, wet heat around him making him cum even harder. Best of both worlds.