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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years

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An Embarrassing Secret

Word count: 2150

I feel like some of these are sort of repetitive, but maybe that's because I've had to reread them to proofread so many times? In any case, you all seem to enjoy them! I hope you like this one as well.

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“Ah! Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see!”

Loki flopped down on the couch beside you, jerking you from your thoughts as the couch cushion bounced under his weight. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned your gaze from the television to the Asgardian beside you, only inches of space between your leg and his.

“Me? What do you need from me? Trying to prank your brother again?” you snickered.

“Not this time, no. I just thought I should come find you and let you know about something interesting I learned this morning,” he replied, an impish lilt to his voice.

“Is this something I would find interesting? Or just you? Because the way you said that, I feel like I probably won’t find it nearly as interesting.”

“Oh, I believe you’ll find it very interesting,” he assured, a smirk tugging at his lips. Something about the way his gaze was fixated on you was unsettling. You paused the TV and turned your full attention to the god.

“What is it, then?” you questioned hesitantly.

“I learned quite an interesting secret about you earlier today.” There went your heart again, skipping another beat.

“You… did?”

“Oh, yes.” His smirk grew wider.

Your mind was racing. What on earth could he be talking about? Did he figure out you had a crush on him? What if that was the secret?? Was he disgusted by it? Did he reciprocate??

“That is interesting,” you noted, trying to keep your voice even to prevent him from seeing your anxiousness. “And… what was that, exactly?”

“Well…” he began, pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, “… this morning I happened to be perusing the library, trying to select a new novel to read. While I was wandering between shelves, I happened to notice something of yours sitting out unattended.”

You thought hard, trying to recall what it was you had been doing in the library. Had you even gone to the library this morning? You couldn’t even remember what you had for breakfast. Then again, it was difficult to concentrate with those blue-green eyes gleaming in front of you…

“And what was that Loki?”

“Your laptop.” Loki was now typing something into his phone, holding it in a way that you couldn’t see the screen.

“My laptop?” You rarely brought your laptop to the library with you, as you were typically reading books and had no need for electronics. You wracked your brain trying to remember when the last time you had even brought it with you to the library, looking away from the trickster so you could think straight.

Then you remembered. You’d brought it with you last night, hoping to get some peace and quiet away from the others, who were causing quite a ruckus in the common area playing one of Peter’s video games. You could still hear them through your bedroom door, so you packed up your laptop and brought it to the library with you to continue writing.

Writing. Oh. Oh no. No no no.

Your heart dropped into your stomach the moment you realized where this was going. Still, he hadn’t mentioned anything specific about what he’d seen yet, so you made every effort to keep a straight face. You weren’t about to give away a bigger secret if he had only learned something minorly embarrassing.

“At first, I was uncertain to whom the device belonged, and as it was already left open on the table, I decided to see if I could determine the owner so I could return it to them,” he continued, “and I found the screen to be unlocked when I turned the machine back on.”

Yep. You knew exactly where this was going now.

“You act like you were trying to do a good deed or something, but you were obviously just snooping around my stuff, weren’t you?” you muttered, trying to throw him off with your annoyance.

“Shh - I wasn’t finished with my recounting of the story yet,” he scolded facetiously. He had finally finished tapping buttons on his phone and was now scrolling through something on the screen. “When the screen unlocked, I saw quite a fascinating narrative typed out on the screen. Truly a masterpiece, really.”

“Y-you read it?” you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands.

“Oh, I did more than that darling. I also scrolled through and reviewed the rest of your little webpage.”

Your face was burning red hot against your palms now. If you could have just melted into the couch and disappeared, you wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. You felt your heart pounding in your chest with nervousness and embarrassment at the whole situation.

“Shall I read some aloud for you?” he asked.

“Nooooo Loki,” you moaned, your voice muffled by your hands. You lifted your feet up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees and hiding your face behind them, trying to become as small as possible.

“Ah, here is a good part: ‘The dark-haired god suddenly tackled you to the floor, pinning your arms down at your sides under his knees as he dug his long, slender fingers into your sides.’” You pulled your knees even closer to your chest. If the floor could swallow you whole now, that would be fantastic. “Darling, you’re not paying attention.” A poke to your side caused you to jolt one arm down away from your face to protect the sensitive skin. You stole a quick glance at the god, your eyes wide.

“D-don’t!” you exclaimed.

“Isn’t this what you want?” he asked, prodding your side a few more times, causing you to jerk away each time he made contact with your thin T-shirt. “Let’s see… ah! Another great line: ‘He drilled his thumb into the front of your lowermost ribs, digging his fingers into the sides of your ribcage simultaneously. You supposed you should have known that someone with his mischievous title would be good at tickling, but the way his fingertips sought out every single one of your weak spots was causing you to slowly slip into madness.’”

You started getting up off the couch to try to make a quick exit then, hoping to hide in your room for the rest of eternity. Loki caught on before you got very far, though, and grabbed hold of your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

“Let go!” you begged, refusing to look at him as you pulled your arm hopelessly to try to escape his grasp. He tugged you closer, quickly wrapping both arms around you and tackling you to the floor. A thrill ran through your chest as you found yourself staring up at the god of mischief, your wrists pinned to the floor at your sides in his hands.

“Seem familiar?” he asked, smirking. He leaned off to the side, looking at his phone screen beside you on the floor. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I remember.” Loki’s fingers connected with your sides, scribbling and kneading in the best worst way. You shook your head rapidly, still too embarrassed by the whole situation to allow him to hear you laugh. “Your narrative appears to be inaccurate – according to this, you should have ‘giggles bubbling from your mouth’ but I hear nothing.”

“Loki! S-stop teasing!” you pleaded, covering your face with your hands once again now that your wrists were freed from his grasp.

“I’m simply pointing out there are some inconsistencies in your writing, y/n.” He moved his fingers to your belly, scratching maddeningly gently at the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up from squirming. You couldn’t hold back the giggles anymore, but you did manage to keep one hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your voice as you brought your other arm down to protect your torso.

A small part of you, buried deep underneath the raging embarrassment you still felt, was loving every second of this playful side of Loki. Clearly you had fantasized about this before, as evidenced by your writing. You just hadn’t anticipated he would actually find your fics, much less read them and use them against you.

“Let’s continue, shall we?” he goaded, interrupting your thoughts. He picked up his phone in one hand while continuing to dig into your belly with the other to keep you squirming while he thumbed through more of your posts. “Here’s another excellent excerpt: ‘he moved to flutter his fingers against the delicate skin behind your knee, squeezing just above your kneecap simultaneously with the other hand, making you snort.’ I would very much like to hear that, I think.” He moved down to mimic his fictitious self in your writing, making you laugh out loud and kick your leg frantically. “Y/n, I’m not hearing any snorting. So many discrepancies; I have to wonder if you’ve ever been properly tickled in the same way as your fictional likeness.”

“Stohohop… stop making fuhuhun of my writing!” you demanded, although it wasn’t very intimidating laced with your laughter.

“Oh, I don’t jest, dear – I’m merely pointing out facts. Maybe this will make you snort.” He reached down and grabbed your ankle in one hand, lightly tracing the sole of your socked foot with one finger. You, indeed, did snort. “Aha! Maybe you should have requested assistance before posting these inaccuracies.”

“LEAVE MY FEET ALOHOHONE!” you shrieked, yanking your leg to escape his grasp. He responded by simply tightening his grip, dragging four fingers up and down your foot, making sure to note which spots made you jerk. He settled on scratching gently just below the ball of your foot, laughing himself as you rolled side to side trying desperately (and ineffectively) to evade his fingers.

“You realize, darling, you’ve essentially written a map to every ticklish spot on your body. I know exactly how to exploit your unfortunate weakness.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by unexpectedly switching to digging his fingertips between your ribs. The suddenness of his movement made you squeal, batting weakly at his hands. “It’s adorable, really, how you are pretending to fight me, when we both know this is exactly what you want.”

“SHH! Shuhuhut up Loki!” you countered. He put a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“You wound me, darling,” he teased, smirking. “What did that one quote state? Ah, that’s right! Your ‘death spot’ as you’ve titled it?”

“Wait! Nohoho I’m sohohohorry!!” you panicked, planting your feet on the floor, and trying to scoot away from your assailant.

“I don’t think you are, actually.” His fingers were inching vexingly closer to your ‘death spot’ as he’d pointed out. He found humor in the fact that your laughter slowly began pitching up in octave the closer he got. “I’m pleased that you’ve written this down for me to find, y/n. I don’t believe I’d have found it otherwise – as I understand, it is not a conventional place to be so unbearably ticklish.”

“No! No no! Plehehease Loki!” you pleaded, albeit halfheartedly.

“Hmm… alright then,” he conceded, moving back down to tickle your right side, moving his other hand to scribble on the right side of your belly. It had exactly the effect he was hoping for, causing you to jolt and roll hard toward his hands. Quickly, he grabbed your left side and pushed you all the way over onto your stomach, pinning your hands down to the floor with his knees. “On second thought, I think I’m going to do it.”

“NoOAHAHAH!” you practically screamed in laughter as his fingers made contact with your back, just below your shoulder blades. Seemingly encouraged by your reaction, he applied more pressure, gently kneading between the backs of your ribs. Your nerves were on fire with ticklish electricity, and you tugged desperately to try to free your hands. It wasn’t long before your laughter became silent, your shoulders shaking as you laid there and just accepted your fate.

It seemed Loki had noticed the sudden silence, and he removed his torturous fingers from your back, releasing your hands so you could roll back over. You curled up on your side, knees close to your chest and arms wrapped around your torso rubbing the residual tingles off your sides. He hovered over you, leaning close to whisper in your ear.

“You know, darling – if you wanted me to tickle you, you simply had to ask. I find it quite adorable.”

“Oh my god, Loki…” you groaned, covering your face with your hands once again. A single finger scratched under your arm, making you pull your arms back down. “Stahahap!! Can’t you see I’m embarrassed??”

“Mm, I can see that. But was it worth it?” he asked teasingly, planting a kiss on your cheek. The flames ignited by his lips spread across your face, up to the tips of your ears.

You supposed that, just maybe, it was worth it.

Part 2: A Difficult Question

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

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mild-lunacy · 8 years

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Angst and the Repetitive Narrative Syndrome

In retrospect, I think the real problem in that post on the issues with unrelenting angst in various shows is that many showrunners don't pace the plot properly, so it ends up looking haphazard rather than structured as an arc. More open-endedly, as @ivyblossom put it about Eurus in Series 4, it was 'limited planning'. In other words, when there aren't cohesive or diverse enough ideas, the writers may reach for the same tired solutions for generating drama on the cheap. Quite aside from an overarching plot arc (ie, even in episodic shows), what works once won't work so well the tenth or twentieth time. There's also definitely something to the idea that too many top TV writers (and Mofftiss in particular) are lazy and self-satisfied, or conservative with their ideas in the sense of their ideas growing stale once they find a formula that works. Essentially, in @plaidadder's opinion, the issue with many male TV showrunners is their self-indulgence, the tendency to repeatedly go for the wish-fulfillment as a priority over what the characters need. Obviously, the real problem most fans have with these male showrunners is that their 'insane wish-fulfillment' and the attendant character or genre-based expectations differ greatly from their younger, more female-skewed audiences. I mean, I think some of the fluffy situations fandom would most enjoy or prefer would never even occur to them.

I think the *underlying* reasons for this divergence are partly to do with social differences and partly structural. In other words, it's partly due to the way open-ended or incomplete series are differently made and produced (often haphazardly, with an eye to ratings and/or a certain kind of fan, rather than any interest in angst the way fanfic writers may 'love angst'). This structural difference in approach is pretty blatant when you compare genre shows with a series of separate but interconnected arcs (Buffy, Supernatural, Sherlock) to the rather more rare, shorter stories that have a unified, interwoven arc.

It's not that many fans don't get worn out by their favorite characters undergoing too much suffering; that definitely happens. But I think that's not what really disappointed most viewers in these shows overall. Basically, I think that the real problem isn't the constant, unbroken angst: that's more of a symptom. The cause is the lack of a continuous arc in most action dramas on TV. Creating a source for and then resolving the new source of angst acts like a shortcut to creating a short-term arc as well as infusing emotional meaning, because the alternative is creating a long-form plot that may not be conducive to the way multiple season-long series are run, particularly on TV.

In blaming angst fests for their dissatisfaction with the direction of many shows, two issues were being conflated: people's personal responses or preferences about angst in fandom, and the concerns and priorities in writing as a craft. That's not unusual; people often conflate preferences and narrative analysis. I'm just saying they're two separate things. In fandom, most people seem to expect and insist on relief or a happy ending for their favorites, also known as 'pay off' (sometimes taken deeper, often just on the level of fan-service). There's certainly a high tolerance and interest in psychological and 'domestic' reinterpretations of dramatic, actiony shows in fic. There's also a tendency to assume that this character-focused aspect of fanfic is somehow naturally superior or more interesting than the original plot-related focus in the original stories. I'm not here to argue against this; I'm just saying this is a very strong assumption or axiom in fandom discussions that leads to conflating good writing with fanfic-style writing. That much I do argue is simply demonstrably incorrect and unnecessary.

I certainly agree in that an endless procession of angsty plot-twists is wearying, even though I'm interested in both genre plot and twists much more than 90% of fandom seems to be. That's probably not atypical for casual viewers, which are the type of the audience that genre shows are directed at. I say this even though I'm a *heavily* character-centric writer and viewer. I just like things to *happen* to the characters I like, and I like those to be unusual or unexpected things rather than only stuff like lunch, sex, work, and meetings with one's parents or something. Not that I'm against any of that normal stuff. I just saying I'm a genre fiction fan for a reason.

Anyway, my point is that there no need to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Further, I think the usage of 'angst' isn't usually for its own sake in most genre shows. I think it's just that if dramatic, unexpected things keep happening (and as said, that is what you'd expect in a genre narrative), any sort of believable character would react by suffering or feeling emotional stress, because exciting and surprising drama is generally stressful and worrying. The alternative-- the characters being shown having a happy breakfast together *while* they're dealing with extreme danger of some kind-- is a lack of meaning for the characters. The problem is essentially pacing, as I said. I was just thinking about this in reading a fic that was really good and felt 'real' while the relationship growth coincided with a plot mini-arc that had a beginning, middle and end. As soon as that arc and relationship both resolved at the same time, the story essentially went into a holding pattern, exploring consequences and complications to the relationship as well as the plot. And those *were* important to address. It's just that having the characters face relationship angst and problems right after successfully saving each other and getting together after severe struggles-- while 'realistic'-- felt like a letdown. It's not that I wanted the fic to become *fluff*, or even that I felt it needed to have a fluffy interlude. I just wanted to sustain that dynamic intersection of relationship growth and linear plot development. Once that's lost, the story just felt... limp.

Basically, it's not about fluff vs angst: it's about pacing the action well and giving a long-running story an overarching structure. Many shows on TV (including Supernatural, Sherlock, and even Game of Thrones, in various ways and for various reasons) fail to execute a full, consistently paced plot arc. In such an arc, its action needs to rise and fall naturally, ideally in accordance to the characters' growth, rather than sporadically devolve or gain sudden speed due to implausible plot devices and deus ex machina twists. That's all right now and again-- like the villain being a perfect mirror for the protagonist's unique skill set, or cliffhangers being averted due to an unpredictable technicality, like on Sherlock-- but overused, it weakens the story significantly. When you have this weakness in planning, writers often fall back on obscuring the edges with the natural rise and fall of internal character drama, or angst. I've seen this in fics, too. The trope is just a bit different: when in doubt on what to do next, put the relationship in peril. After all, it really *can* always happen, and we will always find it believable on some level. It's just this is a surface continuity, and comes at the cost of the story feeling real as opposed to artificial after a while. This is what using classic 3 or 5-act structure avoids, although ironically, it's the open-ended repetition that's arguably more genuinely 'realistic'. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#fanfic meta #narrative #sherlock feels #reader response #writing

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