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cravinganotherworld · 2 months ago

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Ilmarë - Part 3 - Annatar/Sauron x Fem! reader

WARNINGS: None just pure Fluff :)

Notes: Sorry this has taken so long to upload but i hope you enjoy!! If anyone has any requests i am happy to do them!

Wordcount: 1.1k

You hold your breath as Annatars lips touch your cheek, kissing away the tear that had fallen, it lights your entire world on fire. He pulls away and you release the breath you had been holding,

“Ilmarë” your eyes flutter open as he whispers your name. A small smile graces the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of your now flushed cheeks and eyes darkened from the tears.

“is she not deserving of it my lord? Your affections I mean” he laughs gently

“Perhaps” your heart drops “but there is another much more deserving” he confesses as his hand moves down to your waist closing the already non-existent gap between you. His nose touches yours and you take in a small breath. “Someone much more…bewitching” he leans forward, his lips almost on yours. You feel his breath on your lips as he edges closer, your heart screaming for him to close the gap.

“I know what I must do!” The doors to the forge swing open as Celebrimbor rushes through them causing you and Annatar to break away from one another. Your father rushes up the stairs not noticing the flushed state you were in and the tightness of Annatars jaw as he clenched it shut. Eagerly he sits down in his chair, pushing all of his parchments aside picking out a new piece and getting to work.

“I suppose I should leave you be then father” you speak with slight amusement in your voice. You hear nothing but the wave of his hand signalling his approval causes you to laugh lightly. You bow your head in respect and walk towards the stairs. Knowing you had to walk past Annatar you keep your head down not wanting to make eye contact until he stands in front of you blocking your path. You try to move past him, but he places a hand under your chin before you can

“Meet me here tonight…there is something I must show you”

“My lord…I – “

“Please Ilmarë” he begs, eyes searching yours.

“I…okay” you whisper lowering your head and pushing past him. Closing the doors behind you with a loud bang you find yourself resting on them, eyes closed trying to catch your breath. Being so close to Annatar is something you could only ever dream of, the things you feel and the rushes you get are the things you’ve only read about.

“Is everything alright my lady?” Your eyes shoot open to see Mirdania standing in front of you concerned.

“Yes…everything is fine thank you…I just needed a moment that is all” She smiles and nods her head at you before scurrying past you and into the forge.

“Lord Annatar” You hear her voice call as she runs in, you roll your eyes and push yourself off of the door and head towards your chambers.

Time passed as you sat reading on your window ledge and you soon realised it was now nightfall. You delicately close your book and place it on the table beside you before getting up onto your feet and making your way to the forge. Eregion was quiet now, the only sound being the burning of the torches and the light chatter amongst the guards as you make your way through the courtyard. Soon enough you reach the forge and bring your hand up the handle slowly opening the door. You walk in and take a look around searching for Annatar, but all you can see is the flickering lights of the lit candles around the room.

“I thought you weren’t coming” his voice speaks elegantly as he appears as if from nowhere and makes his way down the stairs towards you. He takes your hands in his and looks down at you. “Thank you”

“What for?”

“Being here” a blush creeps onto your face as he takes your hand leading you across to the table he had been working at with Mirdania.

“What is it you wanted to show me My lord?” You question, confusion flowing through you as he stays silent, letting go of your hand as e searches through the tools on the table.

“My Lord?”

“Aha!” he shouts in joy, making you jump slightly as he turns towards you with something in his hands. “Turn around Ilmarë” You look up at him confused, but as you look up you see happiness radiating through his eyes and a smile adorns your face. You turn around and feel something cold around our neck as Annatars hand gently touch your skin. You gasp at the coldness and look down to see the most beautiful silver necklace, adorned with Red Rubies and shining like you had never seen before. Your hand reaches up to wrap around it as you turn back towards Annatar in shock.

“This is what I had been working on today…with Mirdania. Of course, she thought it was for her but…” he steps closer to you pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “No one could look as perfect as you do right now Ilmarë” Your heart jumps in your chest at his words. Once again his hand finds itself resting on your cheek as you look into each other’s eyes, he knew that you longed for him as much as he yearned for you.

“My lord I –“

“I thought I told you to call me by my name?” You blush at his words and nod.

“sorry…Annatar, I do not think I am worthy of such a gift” you confess. He looks into your eyes with sadness looming in them

“Renich i lú i erui govannem?” (do you remember the first time we met?) He asks. You nod your head remembering the night you first saw him. A smile creeps onto your face as you remember how it felt to be near him for the first time. Now the butterflies had multiplied, and you couldn’t imagine a day without seeing his face. “Your smile told me everything I needed to know…you are worthy of the finest gifts in all of the valar, worthy of gifts forged by Feanor himself” You shake your head at him and begin to pull away. “Ilmarë” he whispers as he grabs your arm gently, stopping you from leaving. Stepping towards you, he places his hand on your waist and his forehead against yours and his other hand on your cheek once more. He gently nudges your nose with his, tilting his head to the side and finally capturing your lips in a kiss so tender you almost didn’t feel it. Wrapping your arms around his neck you deepen this kiss finally getting some kind of release. You feel him smile into the kiss and you knew then that this man would be your weakness.

#lord of the rings #fanfiction #lotr rop #lotr x reader #annatar #annatar x reader #sauron x reader #rings of power fanfiction #trop season 2

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reds-skull · 10 months ago

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BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

The finale! Post script will be uploaded right after this, fair warning it's a damn long one lol

Thank you for reading this far, this chapter is called "Where All Permanence Rests". Enjoy!

Edit: I forgot to add the final poem before, it's fixed now!

Page 67 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 18:

The village people, hearing of the hunter’s fall, Find before them, the Blind man and the Beast, Yet they do not look with malice, they do not fear, As the veil has been taken away, their eyes see truth, That this is no Beast, but a man. The Beast, the Cursed Man, He does not rejoice, for the Blind Man has seen him justly, When all saw a monster.

Isla,

I don’t think I’ve ever written an actual letter, like this. Certainly not in circumstances like these. But this is the most secure way to contact you. I shouldn’t talk to you at all, if we’re being honest, but… I couldn’t just leave without a word.

In the following weeks, or days (depending on when this letter will reach you), you will receive news that John MacTavish is dead. And for all intents and purposes, in all ways but physical, I am dead.

I’m writing this to apologize, and to thank you.

Simon never thought he would return to Mexico by his own volition. Even before Soap, he refused to take jobs anywhere near Central America.

Only Johnny could give him enough strength to be here.

It also doesn’t hurt that they’re not here to fight the cartel.

“déjennos en paz!” a man screams further down the cobbled street. ‘Leave us alone.’

From the American-accented shouts that follow, the man’s pleas are ignored, “donte esta el Irani?!”

A woman joins the man, screaming that they don’t know. Simon continues sneaking past dark roofs. They can’t afford to attack just yet - their target has far too many soldiers in their disposal at the moment.

A couple of shots ring out, making his steps falter. The woman screams in anguish. He closes his eyes, attempting to not sink into the familiar embrace of cold indifference, like his instincts tell him to.

Being more than a weapon has its downsides.

“Ghost?”

“Johnny. Solid?” Simon answers on their private comm line, his partner’s voice relieving some of the uncomfortable ache cinching at his guts.

“Aye. Think I can see ye.”

He looks around for a moment, finding the red skull mask across several rooftops, crimson barely visible in the low light, “did you find any sign of the Vaqueros?”

Simon can almost feel Soap’s frustration from here, “negative. Only thing Ah’m seeing are American bastards and fucking corpses.” he grunts, “feels like the Hunter all over again…”

“Focus, Sergeant.”

“I am, LT.” he watches Soap’s form disappear between buildings, “gonna get on the ground, search for anyone we could rescue.”

“Copy, I’ll keep an eye on Graves.” Simon clicks off, knowing they both need the silence.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better brother to you. That I couldn’t take my head out of my arse and simply live a normal life, be normal. I think I never learned how to. But you deserved better. Could you tell maw I’m sorry as well? I don’t think I’ll make it to Christmas in the next… However long I have left to live.

Don’t worry about me (I know you always do, and always will), this is why I wanted to thank you.

After you called, on the day I got the notice of the eviction… I realized I couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t pretend I was fine, couldn’t keep this same, soul-crushing monotony, day in, day out.

Laswell contacted them two days ago, asking them to land in Las Almas and keep an eye on an American PMC called “Shadow Company”. They came to Mexico to collaborate with Mexican Special Forces to capture an Iranian and his stolen missiles. On paper, the citizens of Las Almas shouldn’t have been involved at all.

Graves and his Shadows move to another building, where several men have been rounded and lined up against a wall.

Reality never seems to match what’s on paper, when it comes to wars.

The Shadows lift their rifles, and shoot the civilians.

They don’t know what made Graves turn. But that’s not Simon and Soap’s job to figure out. Their only interest is to minimize civilian life loss and rescue the Vaqueros, the Mexican soldiers the Americans betrayed.

A weak voice on the other side of the block catches his attention. Simon makes the split second decision to take his eyes off Graves and investigate.

“No- let her go!” a woman, a mother, screams at a Shadow ripping a child away from her.

The kid in his arms cries, “Mommy! Mommy!”

“What do you think you’re doing, I’m with the police-!”

Simon catches another soldier moving to shoot, and in a flash, he takes hold of two throwing knives, and buries them deep within the Shadows’ throats.

The policeman and his family look at the soldiers fall with horror and confusion. Simon jumps down, revealing himself.

“Find a vehicle, and get out of the city. The Americans are not going to stop until they find what they want.” he grounds, staring at the cop’s eyes.

The mother asks shakily, “what- why are they doing this-?!” but the cop pushes her and the child, nodding grimly to Simon.

He climbs back up not a moment later. A voice in his mind tells him this maneuver might’ve costed him his cover, but alongside it, Simon doesn’t feel regret. He has learned to appreciate any win, no matter how small. And for those people, it is not small.

So I ran. I can’t tell you to where. I can’t tell you what I found there.

But I can tell you who I met. He’s… fuck, how could I describe him?

He was such a cunt at first, you would’ve ripped him a new one. But I learned he was also running away, in his own way. That he’s been running for a long, long time. And when I met him, when we actually started working with each other…

I felt like I was alive for the first time in a year.

“Ghost” Johnny startles him from thought, “found a Vaquero. Yer…?”

“Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra. Who are you?” a farther voice barely comes through the radio.

“Soap. Laswell sent us.”

“Kate Laswell? Are you with Shepherd?!”

Simon grinds his teeth, “we’re not under anyone’s command, Parra. Not military.”

“You’re… you’re mercenaries?” he can hear Parra curse under his breath, “is it just you two?”

“Aye” Soap answers, “Laswell hasn’t burned ye yet - she asked us to help ye.”

The Sergeant Major seems to sigh in relief, hopelessness coloring his next words, “I’m glad. Though… no.”

He sounds more assured when he speaks again, “my soldiers and Colonel have been captured by Graves. I’ll need any help I can get to rescue them.”

“You got it.” Simon rumbles, “any intel on their location?”

“Negative. Alejandro has a safe house outside the city, I might be able to find out if we get there.”

“Alejandro?” Soap asks.

“My Colonel.” Parra says, noticeably sadder than before.

“We’ll get him back, mate.” Soap attempts to comfort, “Ghost, still got eyes on Graves?”

Simon internally grimaces, “...negative. Had to help some civvies.”

He didn’t expect the pride in Johnny’s voice, but in hindsight he should’ve, “understood. Ye see the church tower from here?”

Simon looks at the far distance, a tall building lit by an orange glow towers over the city, “affirm. Lets RV there.”

“Aye. Keep yerself safe.”

“You too Johnny.”

I don’t know how, but I have the feeling me and him were meant to meet. Not in a soulmate kind of way… I’ve been feeling things like that a lot, since I ran. Like this is where I would’ve always ended up being.

You will not meet me again, most likely. Me and him… Just our presence will put you in danger. There’s a reason they had to kill us both on paper. Can’t tell you what we’re doing that required that, but you know I was never one to stick to things like “rules” and “laws”.

We’re not alone in this, we have allies, people that want to do good, but are stuck in a system that refuses to change to do that good. I wish you never experience the amount of evil truly festering this world, and we are fighting so you never will.

He begins combing the streets for Graves’s trail, mostly tuning out the conversation between Soap and the Sergeant Major. From what he does listen to, Graves’ betrayal seemed to come out of nowhere - they had successfully disarmed a missile not a day prior, having interrogated a cartel lord who aided the Iranian.

They were so close to finishing the mission. Which is why, when the Shadow commander turned around and stabbed them in the back, only Parra managed to shake off the shock and escape.

Graves is still on the hunt for the Iranian, convinced he’s hiding in Las Almas, while also searching for Rodolfo. It won’t look good for business if he can’t wrap up things cleanly, Simon muses darkly. He had enough encounters with PMCs in the past to know how they operate.

He eyes a group of Shadows standing around a couple of fresh bodies, all seemingly focused on their comms.

After a few moments, one of them answers to whoever is ordering them, “I’m here with a few others, sir, we can go search the area for the Mexican.” the soldier pauses to hear the response, “yessir! Let’s go, they spotted him at the northern plaza!”.

The group instantly starts sprinting, Simon following while radioing to Soap, “Johnny, Shadows heading to the northern plaza, said someone saw Parra!”

He hears the Sergeant Major through Soap’s comms, “mierda!”

Simon has to jump over an alley when the roof he’s been running on ended, “I’m on my way to you, can you hold them?!”

Soap huffs in a way that tells him he has something up his sleeve, “we’ll smoke up the plaza, they don’t know Ah’m here.”

He can just imagine Johnny’s sharp grin under his mask, “going undercover, hm? A man after my own heart.”

“Always, Simon.” Johnny whispers, just for his ears. Simon ignores the way it makes a shiver go down his spine.

Up ahead, a plume of smoke rises between buildings. Soap leaves his comms on, letting Simon hear how Johnny takes hostiles down one by one, going quiet until his cover is blown.

In the streets below, more and more soldiers funnel towards the plaza. Simon grits his teeth, pushing his legs to run faster. He will not let Johnny enter a losing fight, not if he can help it.

The shooting abruptly stops, making his heart still. A few moments pass before he can hear Soap’s voice growling, “let him go.”

He can hear the Shadows laughing, a churning noise grating on his ears. Simon slows, keeping to the swaths of darkness.

A half circle of Shadows formed in the plaza, Parra and Soap facing them. In the center, a shadow holds a pistol to a young boy’s head.

Simon doesn’t even attempt to swallow down the disgust that rises in his throat.

“No can do, pal. Drop your weapon and give us the cowboy, or the kid gets hit.”

He drops behind the Shadows, knife slipping down his sleeve silently. With careful steps, he closes in on the center soldier, while Parra curses at them.

Over the soldier’s shoulder, he meets Johnny’s eyes. With no words, they communicate. He waits for Soap’s signal, watching his Sergeant lower himself. To the Shadows, it seems like he’s bending down to place his SMG on the ground, but Simon can almost feel the tension coiling within Soap’s muscles, readying himself to fight.

“Alright, Alright!” Soap shouts, “I’m dropping my gun, just let the boy go.”

Johnny nods minutely. Simon strikes.

In a motion he’s done a million times before, the knife swings in an arc before burrowing into the Shadow’s neck. Simon doesn’t waste any time pushing the body aside, grabbing the young boy and pulling him back.

Soap snarls, righting his gun and spraying bullets to his left, clearing a path for him to take the kid and shove him into cover.

He swings around, ducking under a hostile’s incoming knife, unsheathing one of his own and easily stabbing it into the underside of his jaw. He throws it at another attacking soldier, noticing Soap and Parra being pushed back into a corner.

One of them gets the jump on Soap, the two falling to the ground in a struggle. His heart leaps to his throat, where it shouts, ‘Johnny!’

Simon takes a rifle off of a body, inhales to steady his breath.

Focuses his rage on the targets and shoots.

He drops the gun, rushing to Soap. The bodies on the ground don’t move.

A fast-paced chant screams in his mind ‘where is Soap is he broken is he dead have you failed him-’

“Ngh… Steamin’ Jesus, this fucker’s heavy.” Johnny grumbles, shoving the body covering his off.

Simon stares at him for a moment, before dropping to his knees and pulling him up. He searches for injuries on Soap’s body before two gentle hands stop him.

“Ah’m good, mo chridhe. Solid.” Johnny’s hands don’t let go, instead caressing his bloody palms.

An unexpected wave of emotion crashes into him, filling his lungs with warmth. He doesn’t know if it was the split second moment where he thought Johnny might be dead, or the gentle way he’s now comforting him, somehow always knowing when he’s panicked.

Maybe it’s all of it, that makes Simon blurt out, “I love you.”

And Johnny, despite having the majority of his face covered, looks up at him with so much care, blue eyes almost glowing behind the red mask.

Those eyes crescent with joy, Johnny pushing his forehead to bump against Simon’s in affection.

“I love ye too, Simon.”

And Simon finds himself thinking, that this is what he was meant to be.

Fighter.

Human.

Loved.

I’ll be trying to write as much as possible, but if this is the only letter you’ll ever get…

Just know that if I died, I went down fighting, and I went down with him. And I couldn’t have been happier with the way I lived.

I love you so, so much.

-J.M.

Page 100 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 20:

Where is your destination, now that the curse has been lifted, The Blind Man asks, with nothing but kindness on his tongue. I have no place to belong to, the once-Beast answers, Nowhere, but the path I walk with you, my fallen knight. Then we shall travel together, until we return to the earth, And perhaps, if God is to be so merciful, The paths we take will always, and forevermore, Be only by the side of the other.

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lutiaslayton · 1 year ago

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Hello! You seem to be knowledgeable about Japan-exclusive Layton stuff so I wanted to ask if you knew how many chapters were there in Mansion Of The Deathly Mirror? I tried to look it up myself but I couldn't find an actual answer

Thank you for all your translations btw I really appreciate them!

Hi, and thanks! <3 There are six chapters in total. For more info, I will simply give you (and anyone else who reads this) a Reddit post:

This post explains everything we know about Mansion of the Deathly Mirror and how to deal with the fact that this game is lost media.

That link aside, I have a transcript planned for Mansion of the Deathly Mirror just like I did with Chelmey's Casebook and London Holiday, but I don't even have the full first chapter completed yet, so I'll have to catch up whenever I have the time and materials to do so. I haven't had the time to work on it in many months, but don't worry, I haven't forgotten about it and I WILL make a better, FULL version of the translation, as soon as I can get to it (but right now I'm kinda supposed to be preparing for my PhD defence hahahahaha).

Now for some ramblings related to the above-linked Reddit post. Long story short: we have chances of securing the game. But for that to happen, we need to be patient, and we need to be silent. If you ever find footage of the game on youtube or elsewhere, no matter what you do, leave the player alone.

Let them upload at their pace and gather the crumbs as they fall off the table, because asking for them to let you eat the whole cake has never worked in the past. By that I mean: asking someone who owns the game "hey can I see your cool shiny thing asap plz plz plz" will result in that person blocking you, no longer posting any footage or content related to that cool shiny thing, and possibly disappearing off the face of the entire internet forever. I am neither joking, nor exaggerating.

I'm not talking that much about MotDM because we don't want to get too much attention drawn to it for the time being. But don't worry, if this game ever is found (and we have a whole team searching for it, we're just secretive on purpose -- for the reasons I mentioned here and for those that are explained in more detail in the Reddit post), we WILL make sure that the fandom knows about it. It's mostly just that right now, the only person we know who has the game and is somewhat willing to make a playthrough does not want any unwanted attention, and this person is not a friend of ours. They will stop uploading if people ask for them to upload faster, and they already threatened once to delete all their videos when someone asked them if they could "share the ROM." (No. No they won't. And even if they were willing to, we can't even make anything out of a ROM yet because of the hardware being stupidly complicated anyway.)

---

So there you have it -- your answer is "6," and I could have left it at that because I have no strict obligation to say anything more since you didn't ask for any other info haha.

Unless you want to dive into this endless rabbit hole, I highly suggest you just keep that answer, leave it at that for now, and go about your day minding literally anything else. We will get back to you and the rest of the fandom once we have real news about it! It's just that for now we're all stuck in limbo hahaha, there's some stuff done in the shadows but nothing worth hyping about until we're done with it. I mean -- we can't do anything until the one (1) person who owns the game decides to upload more footage of it. Given how desperately lost this game is, we should actually be happy we get to have anything at all, even if even NWoS might come out before it.

[EDIT] Needless to say, the player who is sharing some gameplay footage does NOT know that I have a website with the beginning of a fan-translation, and if they learn even so little that it exists, they are going to have a heart attack and will likely delete their entire playthrough. And nobody wants that.

I personally won't celebrate and heave a real breath of relief before footage of the full game from start to finish with as much content as possible is secured, which is why I don't talk about it a lot. I'm just paranoid that something might go wrong like it already has multiple times in the past hahaha

---

DO NOT show my website link around at random until I say it's ok to do so. And if you share it with friends, ALWAYS mention that I am the one running it. That way if you or your friends have questions, you know who to ask for explanations.

#professor layton and the mansion of the deathly mirror #mansion of the deathly mirror #deathly mirror #lutiasreplies #lutiasgithub

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vikenticomeshome · 4 months ago

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Monster House (2006) had a tie-in graphic novel?

Yeah, it did. I only found out about it by chance when reading the wiki. It was done by IDW Publishing on June 14, 2006. This would have been roughly a month before the film had its theatrical release in the U.S. on July 21, 2006.

Before we start talking about the content, let's talk about the credits. The comic consists of two stories. I will print the credits exactly as they appear.

"Skull & Bones" Written by: Joshua Dysart Art by: Simeon Wilkins Colors by: Len O' Grady

"Honor Roll" Words and Art by: Simeon Wilkins Colors by: Len O' Grady

Edited by: Kris Oprisko Designed by: Neil Uyetake Lettered by: Tom B. Long

Now, of course, I cannot post the entire work here. Sure, the comic appears to have only been printed once in 2006. Sure, it is unlikely that it will ever be reprinted, as Monster House was a single film that told its complete story and never got any sequels or spin-offs. Sure, the only way to legitimately purchase a copy these days is to buy it second-hand. Still, I could get in trouble for posting it in full here.

However, you could try searching "Monster House Graphic Novel". You may find that someone has scanned and uploaded a copy that you can read for free. You might even feel inspired to make a Tumblr post sharing some of your favorite panels from that scan. Imagine that. https://archive.org/details/monster-house-graphic-novel

Anyway, before you go past the "read more". I recommend you obtain the graphic novel and read it for yourself to get the full experience.

The first story, "Skull & Bones", alternates between scenes that take place at the same time as the movie and scenes that took place 20 years earlier. Our protagonist for the evening in both timelines is "Bones". You remember him right?

We all remember the scene between him and Zee where he's messing with her, she gets sick of him, and she kicks him out. Mind you, the movie showed it from DJ's POV, who couldn't see much from behind the couch.

The comic lovingly recreates the scene from the front of the couch.

Comic made him more of an ugly sonuvabitch than the film did.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Remember, he did have his back-story that he talked about during the film. Now, we get to see it.

One day, 20 years ago, long before his nose was quite so big, Bones was flying his kite. The kite's name was "Awesome Kite".

But then, it all goes wrong. Awesome lands on Mr. Nebbercracker's lawn. Bones knows well and good that Nebbercracker will steal his kite if he doesn't get it back quickly. Worse, he has to listen to Nebbercracker's marital problems.

Mr. Nebbercracker is calm and reasonable about the whole thing, just like in the film.

Back in the present-day, we have Skull and Bones showing that they care about making children happy, or maybe they are just desperate for a gig. Either way, they are playing a gig at the local children's hospital.

However, they parked in a hand-capped spot. Well, nobody's perfect.

Lester very nearly ends the story early, but our heroes are saved in the nick of time.

Oh look, its the little girl from the movie's intro. Why does her face look like that?

Okay, let's go back to just after Zee kneed him the stomach and sent him packing. We know that he went to take his anger out on Nebbercracker's house.

Our idiot hero is easily lured into the house by Awesome Kite, who is made to float in the doorway.

Then, he gets eaten.

He'll be fine though. Everyone remembers the ending of Monster House, right? We got a montage of all the characters who were eaten by the house climbing out of the ruins. The children in the audience were re-assured that the house never actually killed anyone.

Yeah, no, the comic confirms that Constance isn't the only skeleton in the basement. I spy a mail carrier, a door-to-door salesman or special agent from ACME, the milk man, someone who was just shoveling the sidewalk, and at least one dog. At least I don't see any child skeletons.

Still, our plucky hero continues his search-and-rescue operation. At last, he reaches Awesome Kite.

Before, he can reach it though, let's flash back to 20 years. While Bones is sulking over his kite, Zee is having a tea party. Lovely.

Look, I don't care about the monster house anymore. This scene of Zee obliterating the dolls with a damn weed-wacker is amazing.

Bones meets up with his friend Skull, and we get our musical number.

Afterwards, Skull and Bones go on their mission to retrieve Awesome. They don't have J.D's level of planning however. Lester, who would go on to become the skinny cop, discovers them.

I know I've been making fun of the story, but it does show us an important angle that we don't get in the movie.

We see Nebbercracker frustrated with Constance's actions, as well as all of the effort he puts into keeping Constance's true nature a secret.

I want to share one particularly impactful line.

"You keep saying you love me! But you don't know how to love!"

Then, he tries to leave.

And she doesn't let him leave.

No, he returns to stare into the fire.

Yeah, he kisses her on the Mantle. Bones and Skull don't understand how tragic this whole scene is.

And now, we're back to business as usual. Nebbercracker goes after the kids, and Constance looks ready to eat them herself.

And now we're back to present-day Bones and near the end of the movie. The house rips itself out of its foundation. While it hurries away, probably to go eat three kids, Skull is able to climb out to safety.

Skull, the twist villain of the comic, has stolen his girl.

Or, maybe she was just pretending to date Skull to make Bones jealous? Maybe they're a polycule now?

No matter what happened, it looks like Zee lost in the end. That's what she gets for breaking that plant pot and blaming it on DJ.

I managed to hit the image limit before I got to the second story. However, that one doesn't really have much to do with Monster House. "Final Roll" tells us that Skull and Bones play DnD. Its really just Bones walking away from the game after refusing to make a roll. Skull badgers him for weeks until he throws the die into Nebbercracker's lawn. I may make a second post with highlights from that story, but the first story was definitely the more important one to cover.

I'm glad that I got to read this comic. It was alot of fun. The original movie is a masterpiece in presenting such dark themes to children. And then, the graphic novel expanded upon it. We got to see that Nebbercracker was not always able to keep everyone safe from Constance. We got to see how much of a toll the whole unfair situation took on him. We got a peek at Bone's, Skull's, and Zee's childhoods. We got to see Zee destroy a bunch of plastic dolls with a damn weed whacker.

If you haven't read it, go read it. My post isn't going to be the same as reading the whole thing.

#2000s #nostalgia #graphic novel #comic #2000s childhood #monster house #long post #longpost

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spookierz · 2 months ago

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'Whats green and goes slam, slam, slam, slam? A four door pickle!'

A few nights ago I was looking through a trunk of my mothers things from when she was a girl in the eighties. Amidst these things were a few 'riddle books' she had made, with fun riddles/jokes accompanied by matching crayon drawings. Most of them were normal, most of them I had already heard countless times. Besides the one on the very first page.

'Whats green and goes slam slam slam slam?' 'A 4 door pilkle!'

I didn't get it. My initial assumption was that she had been trying to come up with a riddle on her own, completely original. This assumption was not supported by the following pages, all of which were familiar and classic. I kept thinking about it- a four door pickle? That isn't funny! Jokes flying over my head is a common occurrence, so I went to look online to see if I could find an explanation.

The first thing that popped up was a reddit post in r/jokes from nine years ago, which reads:

'What is green and goes slam, slam, slam, slam?

A four door pickle!'

This confirms the joke was not made up by my nine year old mother. The only response to the post reads as such:

'House of Pain?'

I don't know what this means.

Most of the search results are similar- people sharing the joke online, and it being met with minimal reaction. Here, I found a meme uploaded five years ago to imgflip. It has three upvotes. This is the most recent

I was - am- thinking that 'a four door pickle' is intended to be a play on words. Say it really fast, and it sounds like something! Afordorpickle. I don't get it. My mind also wandered to sports- Pickleball!!!!!

I've played pickleball before, and I don't remember any doors. I also don't think it existed in the eighties. And like, I get it. Doors slam, so four doors would slam, slam, slam, slam, pickles are famously green. But I don't get it.

'Whats green and goes slam?

A one door pickle!'

I tried focusing on other parts of the joke- maybe the punchline was in the first line. Looking up 'slam slam slam slam' led me to something called tennis, which is kind of like pickleball. It has something called a 'Grand Slam.'

Pickleball:

Im on the pickleball wikipedia page, learning more about pickleball than I've ever wished too. It was created in 1965, which is absolutely tragic. Fifty-eight long, long years we've shared the earth with the wretched sport. This, devastatingly, puts pickleball back on the table for something this joke could be referencing- but first, to save myself any more grief, I'm gonna search for anything more online.

VARIANTS!

'Whats yellow and goes slam, slam, slam, slam?

A four door banana'

'Whats purple and goes slam slam slam slam?

A four door grape'

'What is red and goes “slam! Slam! Slam! Slam!”?

A four door tomato'

So, its an anti-joke, right? Its a joke that's funny because its stupid. But there's still something itching deep inside of me, telling me to dig deeper. This joke dates to at least 40 years past- where did it start? Was the original the pickle variant, or something else? Is there context missing? I have to know.

I've read so many riddle books.

'What do you call a boy whos sick and tired and has gone cross eyes from all this damn wordplay?

Birdie!'

My head is going slam, slam, slam, slam into a wall. A four door fruit. A four door vegetable. Slam, slam, slam, slam. Does anyone actually think these jokes are funny? Did anyone sharing these online actually understand the punchline? In one of the riddle books I read today, there was a blurb at the end that stuck with me.

'In a sense, riddles are as fragile and yet as durable as fine bone china. The best survive being handed on from generation to generation, while new ones share elements with the past.'

Riddle Red Riddle Book by Ann Bishop, 1969

I think this riddle is on its way out- and good riddance to it, too. But, still. When my mom was nine years old, this joke stuck with her enough she wrote it down and drew a picture to match, alongside classics like 'Why did the cow go to the drive-in?' (To see the moo-vies!)

There's something meta to say about how the joke is sticking with me, too, but a joke isn't meant to stick with you as a haunting memory of what used to be considered funny. I'll ask my mom next time I see her if she remembers what she meant when she wrote it, (I realize now I've been making it sound like she's dead- she is not.) though I'm pretty sure she wont remember.

I've heard a lot of talk about the ghost of languages, of the death of information, what the passage of time eats and the small remnants its left behind, and I can't help but feel like, in a melodramatic sense, I'm watching this riddle being eaten alive. The first time I read it, I laughed- I was staring at a relic from a girl I've never met, and who I've known all my life, and who couldn't spell pickle right. It was absurd, and I didn't get it, and it was two in the morning and the girl who wrote it was my mother, sleeping two sets of stairs above me, and that's what made it funny. That's what I mean by it being haunting- the joke is there, its fulfilling its purpose, its making me laugh. But the context is gone. The context is gone, and I've filled it in with something else and it still works, but not the way its meant too. Its a dying riddle. And its so, so stupid.

#whats green and goes slam slam slam slam #a four door pickle #writings #says #in my defense im ill and not in my right mind rn idk why i did this #pickleball

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phantaemon · 7 months ago

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artfight this year was, in terms of VIBES, utter dogshit

But at the same time it was the best artfight I've ever had. I've never gotten as many attacks before, just like I've never attacked as many people. I got so much more confident in my art and I genuinely had fun, and since I had improved even before it started I was able to get so many ocs on the platform, ocs that lacked art and that I wasn't confident enough to post on the platform before otherwise. They didn't all get art (most of it went to my sona lmao) but it's nice. Even got in a pretty high effort mass attack last minute- which was relieving considering everyone went paranoid about those in the beginning (for fair reasons sometimes)

I think just randomly selecting OCs from the recent page, and attacking mutuals was the best choice here.

This year's social media coverage was insufferable too. Some of my mutuals refused to join at all due to this, not just the odd tiktok trends and the entitlement, but also the "OH YOU NEED TO PREPARE 30 REFS TWO MONTHS IN ADVANCE, AND MAKE YOUR PROFILE LIKE THIS OTHERWISE NO ONE WILL ATTACK YOU! AND LOOK AT THE ATTACK RATIOS! AND DON'T FORGET TO POST THE CARD IN EVERY SINGLE SERVER YOU'RE IN! AND YOU NEED TO DO THIS THIS AND THIS BECAUSE I DON'T EVEN LOOK AT PROFILES THAT DON'T DO THIS AND THIS"

Oh my god. Way to discourage beginners from an event that's supposed to be FUN. I wasn't affected by this due to having enough motivation to draw on a daily basis for a while now, but artfight is NOT supposed to be stressful like that. YOU ARE MAKING IT STRESSFUL. Sit back. Upload one fullbody of your character, heck even a halfbody works in some cases, my friend has a character like that and she still got attacks. If you have a big, detailled ref, good for you!

You don't even need a profile besides your boundaries because unless you 1) subscribed to someone 2) attacked someone and they want to revenge you or 3) go out of your way to link your profile everywhere, people will NOT see it, they'll just see your character through tag search or recent and EVEN IF PEOPLE SEE YOUR PROFILE you only need simple boundaries which can be put in your character warnings ANYWAYS!

Same thing for OC profiles you can have literally the least amount of lore for your OC people will still draw them, you can even just link an external profile (with proper warnings) if you don't wanna copy and paste the bio and layout or something

Don't get me started about the ratio, caring too much about them is overly punitive and utter bullshit, you cannot keep up a 50+ ratio without burning out in most cases since you cannot control when people revenge you unless you're doing a chain or attacking 100% revenge profiles. Holding people to higher standards or refusing to attack people because of their ratio defends the entire purpose of artfight, and is, quite frankly, an asshole move.

To enjoy AF you literally just need to upload some random ocs and draw some random ocs. Now I know that not getting attacks feels like shit. But artfight is about giving first and foremost. It's the first thing you see in the beginner's guide. You give free art to people who MAY give you free art in return. It is free art. You are not entitled to it, though I wish everyone could receive something at the end of the day no matter what.

Do not look at social media. Don't join the discord unless you need server uptime/downtime info. And it will seem way more calm.

Artfight has not gone to shit this year. It's a loud part of the community that has. I may not be posting this with any # as to not start discource but anyone seeing this I urge you to take the positives and take a step back from everything else. First week was stressful as hell for me, until I decided to just draw as if no one was telling me to make my account and ratio perfect. As we may say "Artfight is fun when you don't have a bitch in your ear telling you to fix your ratio".

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Update - Harry Styles

i’ve been deep inmy harry feels and this thought just wouldn’t leave me alone so i had to write it. im thinking about starting a taglist for harry, i think i’ll write more about him in the future. let me know if you’d be interested in the taglist!

word count: ~5.9k

masterlist

Sequel: The best present

Harry is not that into YouTube videos, has never really been, which is kind of ironic seeing the number of videos on the internet that is about him. The man himself who makes everyone talk online feels weird seeing someone talking on his screen, looking into his soul as if they were right there with him. But today he felt the sudden urge to be like his peers and get lost in random rambling videos from strangers, who felt the need to put themselves out there.

He has made a mean cup of tea for himself, made himself comfortable on his couch with his laptop balancing on his thighs and now is opening up his browser to unwind in an unusual way. As YouTube opens in front of his tired eyes, he stops when he tries to type in the keywords he is searching for. What is he looking for really? He thinks to himself trying to remember what he heard from his friends when they talked about funny or interesting videos. One thing is for sure, he is trying to avoid watching videos of himself in any content. He has had enough of him for the day, it’s time to focus on someone else, even if he doesn’t know the person.

He scrolls through several pages of many different keywords until he settles for a video where a girl talks about how her latest moving day went. Starting off Harry feels weird listening to her talk about such personal things as where her bed went in her room, how she packed all her stuff to fit them in the boxes, but soon enough this feeling settles and he starts to realize it’s kind of relaxing.

It doesn’t take too long for him to fall down a rabbit hole and by the time his tea empties out from his cup he is intensely watching a guy rant about his boss at Subway while doing a mukbang. The latter is a new discovery for Harry, he has never heard of it before, but he can see why some people find it satisfying.

The video ends, Harry checks the time and sees that it’s already after midnight and he hasn’t even realized how fast time flew by.

“Alright, just one more,” he mumbles to himself scrolling down the column of the recommended videos until his eyes stop at one particular upload at the very bottom.

July update for my Sammy, ready the title and an eye-catchingly beautiful girl is smiling from the thumbnail. He finds her breathtaking, the lack of makeup, the worn out hoodie she is wearing and the many various plants in the background makes it appear she is sitting in the middle of the forest.

Harry finds himself clicking on the video before he could even decide consciously to watch it. The screen loads and the girl appears in front of him, this time in a much larger size.

“Hi Sammy, welcome back to our channel,” she starts with an angelic little laugh as she pulls her shoulders up to her ears as if the camera is making her shy. She has no reason to be shy, Harry thinks to himself. His second thought is about Sammy, he is one lucky guy to know this angel and have her think about him. “It’s Y/N here, your one and only sister,” she adds.

Sister. The word brings Harry relief and he is surprised to feel this way, but he has no time to think anything of it because she starts talking again.

“Here is my July update, I’m sorry I’m a little late, but we got back from Oregon yesterday. Aunt Ella is sending you kisses and hugs, she missed you at the barbeque, or maybe it was just your helping hand at the grill,” she chuckles to herself, probably recalling the memory.

Harry has no idea who Aunt Ella is or where she lives in Oregon, but the way she talks about it makes him feel like he is part of the family a little.

Y/N carries on and starts talking about everything that has happened in July. Painting the shed at her parents’ home, buying a new armchair, one her cat absolutely adores and refuses to sleep anywhere else now, she went to the hairdresser to get a trim, but not too much. She tells about her plans for August, how she is thinking about going to the farmers’ market more often, and she has been playing with the idea of adopting another cat.

“I think Henry has been feeling a little lonely lately. He could use a buddy,” she tells the camera, her eyes moving to the side from where a weak but moody meow can be heard as an answer. “Yeah, I think he agrees,” she chuckles and Harry finds himself smiling at the screen.

At the end of the video she asks a few questions from Sammy, how he has been doing, if his wrist feels any better, even asks about a friend called Matthew. Harry wonders if she has ever gotten the answers to her questions and where Sammy saw this video. What is he doing that made her want to do an update on YouTube?

When the video ends Harry clicks on her profile faster than he would willingly admit to anyone and it’s like he opened the gate to paradise. Tens and maybe hundreds of videos are queuing on her page, monthly updates, birthday wishes, short story times about family gatherings, news and happenings in her life.

Harry gets lost in her tales. He watches video after video, noticing the smallest details about her, almost mentally taking notes about her updates, finding anything and everything she talks about so interesting as if he knew those people and places she mentions. He comes to realization that Sammy is her older brother who is serving somewhere in the military. Y/N is making the videos to update him about her life even if she knows most of them doesn’t get to him until weeks later, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. He also learns that Sammy sends them back lengthy emails once a month and always ends them with a joke they made up with his mates at the army. Y/N loves them even when they're not even funny, she never fails to mention that she smiled reading them.

Hours pass by and the rising Sun peeks inside the window pulling Harry back to his own reality, shocked that he just spent the whole night watching her videos and didn’t even realize how deep he has gotten in her life. Lucky for him he has nothing planned until the afternoon, so shutting his laptop he sets it aside and heads straight to bed, but lying between his silky sheets he catches himself staring out the window, wondering what Y/N might be doing right now. From what he collected she lives somewhere in Spokane and has family in Seattle and Portland, which puts her quite a few time zones behind him. He finds the thought of them going to bed at the same time despite the distance a little funny. He lies in bed for quite some time before he finally drifts off to sleep with a particular girl on his mind, who doesn’t even know he is thinking about her.

“Do you think you can fall for someone you have never met?”

Harry’s question catches Mitch a little off-guard, but he is kind of used to his random bits of thoughts. Pouring some sugar into his coffee he follows the wondering singer to a free table in the corner.

“Isn’t it what all your fans feel?” he answers with a question, earning a surprised look from Harry. He hasn’t thought about this side, now the situation is kind of ironic, he supposes.

“Y’re right,” he nods stirring his coffee around in the small cup.

“Want to let me in on your thoughts?”

Harry feels a little shy to admit how he has watched all of her videos in the past few days, 207 to be exact and now he feels an oddly deep connection to this girl he has never even seen outside of a screen. Last night he dug up her Instagam profile, and even though she is not posting as frequently as she does on her channel, it was a refreshing change to see her in different settings. Chilling at a lake, having drinks with her friends, playing with her parents’ puppy, it amazed him that she has a whole life outside that small portion she lets him see in her videos.

Hesitantly, but he tells his friend about his latest hobby, if it’s not too weird to call it that, while his friend patiently listens and nods along his words while sipping on his morning coffee.

“D’you think I’m crazy?” Harry sighs leaning back in his seat, looking at his friend and colleague for validation that he hasn’t lost his mind entirely.

“Definitely not,” he chuckles shaking his head. “It’s like falling for that girl in school you know so much about but never really met.”

“Only that I’m stalkin’ this poor girl.”

“This is not stalking. We both know it’s far from that.” Harry nods with slight relief that his situation doesn’t seem as bad as he has been feeling lately. “Have you gotten in touch with her?”

“And what am I supposed to do? Comment on her video that I think her cat’s a cutie and I watched all her videos in three days ‘cuz I think she’s beautiful and I find her voice soothing?”

Mitch lets out a soft chuckle at the oddly specific answer he just gave and finds it amusing how interested his friend has grown about someone in such a short time.

“Maybe phrase it a little different.”

“So you do think I should reach out?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Use your personal YouTube, leave her a nice comment. Maybe she’ll reply.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” he chuckles. “Just go with it and you’ll see. You are obviously interested in her, it’s better than just sit and watch her videos.”

Harry agrees. It wouldn’t hurt to try to reach out to her, possibly in a not too creepy way. Maybe just a sweet comment on one of her videos and if she replies… Well, he doesn’t know what comes after, but he’ll figure it out.

Y/N updates regularly. Usually once a week and mostly it’s Sunday when a new video gets uploaded. This next Sunday Harry finds himself checking her page occasionally through the day to see if there’s a new update, but it seems like she is missing today. Right until he is driving home and gets a notification from the app.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video! It reads and Harry’s heart beats a tad bit faster. He thinks about pulling over to see it right away, but he tells himself that would be a bit too much, so he is forced to wait until he is in the comfort of his home.

Finally sitting on his couch he opens up his laptop and clicks on the video that has the title: September update.

Y/N sits in her usual spot, Henry in her arms as she is gently stroking his head with a warm smile on her face.

“Hi Sammy! Welcome back to our channel,” she greets him with her usual words and Harry loves how she calls the channel theirs. “This is my September update, even though not much has happened,” she breathes out, eyes wandering to the window besides her and Harry wonders what she sees from her window every day. Does she live in the city? Is it an apartment or a house with a backyard? Are there any trees or does her room have a terrible view, maybe just another house next to hers?

She starts her talk about the month, which she spent mostly with working, a little shopping and meeting her friends. She tells him about her planned trip to the local shelter to see possible new kittens to add to her household and Harry feels himself growing excited about it. He even thinks about what kind of cat he can see get along well with Henry even though he has never even met him.

“Anyway, mom and dad miss you, I miss you too. I loved your joke about ducks in your latest email,” she chuckles sweetly, bringing a smile to Harry’s face as well. “Mom is excited to see you at Christmas, our cousins will come to Portland as well. Maya can’t wait to play Jenga with you, she said she’s been practicing.”

The video soon ends as Y/N tells Sammy how much she loves him and eventually turns the camera off.

He straight away moves the cursor to the beginning of the video and as she starts talking again he scrolls down to the comment section that’s entirely empty. There are only two views on her video, usually a hundred is the max, but she doesn’t seem to care about the views, it’s more about the message.

He clicks to type a comment, but his hands stop above the keyboard as he tries to think of what to write. Mitch was right about taking a chance at reaching out, but what is he supposed to write exactly? Everything that comes to his mind sounds so creepy and scary, and he knows it’s weird that he formed such a deep connection to an unknown girl online. At last he starts typing.

“Hi Y/N! I’ve stumbled across your videos the other day. Love how you keep your brother updated, it’s such a nice gesture. I hope life treats you and Sammy well, you truly deserve it. Good luck with finding a buddy for Henry! Love, an admirer of yours, H.”

He reads it back several times, deleting then retyping it again until he decides to just go with it. A rush of adrenaline washes over his body when he sends the comment and it’s officially out there. Secretly he wishes she would reply right away, but moments pass by, then moments turn into minutes and nothing happens. His comment stands there alone and he has to realize that maybe she will never even reply or even see it.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself as he shuts the laptop down and goes on to do his things, but he finds his thoughts wander over to her from time to time.

He has a busy day ahead of him the next day, quite a few meetings and a fitting. He checks back for a reply in the morning, but it slips his mind the moment he leaves from home and his phone rings right away. Throughout the day he basically barely has time to check his emails, his other notifications are just sitting patiently on the bar, waiting for him to acknowledge them. It’s way past five in the afternoon when he finally have some time for himself after his fitting. He is sitting in his car, people walk past him without even realizing who is sitting behind the tinted windows. Scrolling down he gets rid of everything that doesn’t seem urgent until his eyes stop at one particular notification.

“Y/N replied to your comment,” he reads it out loud, just to make it real, as if he is seeing it wrong and saying it with his own mouth brings it to life. He quickly taps on it and the familiar video opens up and while Y/N starts talking again the screen jumps down to the comments where, in fact, there is a reply from her.

“Dear H! Thank you for your heartfelt comment! I always forget it’s not just my family who sees these videos, but I’m happy you found them interesting enough to watch a few of them.”

“A few?” Harry huffs to himself feeling a little ridiculous he has watched all of them.

“I hope I didn’t bore you too much. Thank you for the well wishes for me, my brother and Henry too. He is sending his love to you. Y/N xx”

The comment was posted three hours ago. The thought that she has acknowledged his existence with not only reading but also replying to his comment brings him extreme joy. He reads her words over and over again, looking for any clue that would give away that she found his comment weird, but it seems like she was more surprised and happy that someone else saw her video besides her brother. Harry starts to type his reply without hesitation.

“Bore me? You saved me from watching another “what’s in my bag” video the other day. It was a pleasant change. I love your plants, by the way. Your room always gives off the most relaxed vibes. It reminded me I should have more of them in my home. H”

Harry smiles to himself posting his comment, the fear of appearing like a stalker long gone from him, the interaction is making his inside blossom from joy. For his biggest surprise a reply appears just a few minutes away and Harry reads Y/N’s new lines with deep hunger.

“Those videos suck the life out of me every time! I might be having a problem with buying too many plants, but I can’t help myself. They truly bring peace to me just by looking at them. I’m glad you are planning on buying some more, you won’t regret it!”

Harry is dying to reply, but he doesn’t want to look too eager and needy, so he opts for just liking her comment to let her know he read it and agrees. He locks his phone and puts it aside with the widest smile on his face as he starts his car and leaves his parking spot.

Two weeks pass by. In those two weeks Y/N uploads two more videos, one about her time with her grandparents, for a change it was filmed at their home and they even said hello in it. Harry feels wholesome seeing her with her granny and grandpa, it’s clear she cares a lot about them. The other video is just a short one where she has met some of Sammy’s old high school friends and she had a check in from them, sending a sweet message to him through the video. Harry doesn’t doubt how much these little things mean to Sammy, even if he doesn’t get to see them right away. Seeing Y/N alone boosts his mood every time she uploads a new video, he can only imagine how they make Sammy feel.

He leaves comments on her videos without a second thought and she replies to all of them, a lot of the time almost immediately. These are the highlights of his days without exception. Knowing that she has anything to do with him just fascinates him and he is starting to realize what his fans feel towards him on a different level. Whenever he sees the notification that she has replied to what he wrote or that she uploaded a new video he flies right to her page to check it, no matter what he is doing. Some of their comment threads turn out pretty lengthy, almost like a chat conversation and it has Harry wonder how they could maybe move it to somewhere else from the comment section.

He wants to ask for her number, but figures it wouldn’t be the best idea. Regardless of how much he enjoys their short little conversations, the situation is still weird and complicated and he doesn’t want to forget that.

But he is pleasantly surprised when she brings it up herself, to move the conversation to somewhere else.

“Would love to discuss that more with you. Up for exchanging IG names?” her question reads and he blinks a few before he fully comprehends that she wants to talk to him more in private. However there’s no way he can send her his real Instagram profile and making a fake one would be way too suspicious. Opening up the private messages he sends her a short, but informative message.

“I don’t use Instagram, but feel free to text me,” and then his phone number.

He sits at the dinner table anxiously, waiting for his phone to light up from a new text, and just a few minutes later it finally comes.

“Hi! It’s Y/N,” he reads from the notification and he saves the number right away.

“Hello! Save me as Harry. I haven’t even told you my name yet, how rude of me!” he replies chuckling to himself.

“Will let it slip this time. Harry. What a nice name!”

“Is it what you thought about from the H?”

“It was one of my theories. The other one was Hayes, but Harry fits you better.”

“You haven’t even seen me, how do you know what name fits me?”

“I don’t know. You had a vibe. There are many great Harries in the world, you seemed to fit between them!”

Harry wonders if she is thinking about him without even knowing that… it is him. He wants to ask her, but decides not to. Instead, he is enjoying that he can now reach her immediately and not through a comment section. He never thought this would actually happen.

The texts never stop. They have so much to talk about! Their entire life to share, millions of thoughts and so much to discuss! Harry is not proud of the time he has spent with his eyes glued to his phone, but he wouldn’t miss a chance to talk to her for anything. Their friends are not blind to the change in him, but Mitch is the only one with a guess about why he has gotten so addicted to his phone.

“Is it the girl from the videos?” he asks Harry one time when they are at the studio, having lunch break. Different food boxes are scattered around them, on the table and the couch. Harry’s phone just light up from a text and he immediately dropped his lunch to type a response.

He glances up at his friend with a shy smile nodding his head. He hasn’t talked about his newly funded friendship with Y/N yet, it feels like as if he tells it to anyone it might evaporate into just a dream.

“So you reached out, huh?”

“I did,” he nods returning to his food once his message is sent. “She’s great.”

“Does she know who she is talking to?” Harry’s lack of answer tells enough about the truth to Mitch. “You can’t hide forever, especially if you are planning on meeting her.”

“I know,” he answers shortly. “But I just don’t know how I could even bring it up to her without sounding like a mad man.”

“She’ll need proof.”

“M’not ready to show m’self to her. What if it changes everything?”

“Then it wasn’t worth it,” he simply tells him.

Deep down Harry knows it’s the truth, but he is not ready to be robbed from the joy she is bringing him. He has never felt such a deep connection to anyone before and they haven’t even met. It’s just a version of her he is seeing on the screen, not her real self. But it feels real to him and he wants to keep this reality to himself for just a little longer.

“I wish I could hear your voice, Harry. You are one big mystery to me, you know that?”

He forgets to breathe for a moment as he reads her message, lying in bed one evening, getting ready to sleep, but he wanted to check in with her before ending the day.

“You know so much about me already,” he types back.

“Not enough, I feel like. Sometimes I’m afraid Nev and Max are about to show up at my door and tell me that I’ve been catfished.”

He chuckles at her words, though he completely understands her fear.

“What do you want from me then?”

“Send me a voice message so I know you are real. That would put my suspicion to sleep. For a while…”

Harry hesitates for a long time until he decides just one voice message couldn’t hurt. Just a short one where his voice is not that recognizable so his cover won’t be over immediately.

“Good night, Y/N,” he tells into his phone and then send the recording to her.

He watches the status change from delivered to read and a couple of minutes go by before she finally responds.

“Thank you. Now I know that you are real. I hope I’ll hear your voice in real life one day.”

“I hope that too.”

His time spent undercover is coming to an end and he knows it’ll happen soon. It’s been weeks since they started chatting, almost an entire month and she’s been hinting her will to see his face and though he has been putting it off, he knows it has to happen.

Fate is playing under his hands, because he is traveling to Seattle for a few days, exactly when Y/N is traveling there to visit her parents.

“I hope you know you can’t leave without meeting finally,” she wrote when she found out they are going to be in the same city.

“It never even crossed my mind!” he wrote back chuckling to himself, however it brought him extreme anxiety that he is now going to be forced to come clean about who he really is.

He spends his whole flight to Seattle making up possible outcomes for their first official meeting. Not all of them end well and it’s just fueling his fear that he might lose her for not telling her the entire truth.

But she is a smart girl, she’ll see your reasoning, he tells himself, however he can’t entirely convince himself that it will be the case.

In hopes of squeezing in more than just one meeting into the weekend they agreed to meet almost first thing after he lands. So after checking into his hotel he heads into the city to finally meet her in real life in a local café she suggested for the occasion. Arriving to the place he is running a little late and she already texted him she’ll be waiting for him inside. Harry is wearing a beanie with shades to try to keep up his cover and it seems to be working, no one has approached him yet.

Stepping inside the cozy looking place his eyes roam around and immediately finds her sitting in the corner, pouring sugar into her coffee, not even paying attention to the door at the moment, but truth is she’s been intensely staring at it in the past ten minutes she has been there.

Harry takes a deep breath and nods to himself before heading in her way, hands shaking nervously as he stops at her table.

She glances up at him with innocent eyes, a smile spreads across her face as she sees that her mysterious Harry has arrived and she doesn’t recognize her until he finally takes his sunglasses off.

Harry watches her face turn from happiness to surprise then utter shock as she realizes who is standing in front of him.

“You are… my Harry?” she asks, confusion laced through her voice and Harry can’t ignore how she called him her Harry. He likes the ring of it.

“M’orry if it’s a little too much f’you, I really didn’t know how to tell ya.”

Keeping his eyes on her he pulls out the other chair at the table and takes a seat across her while she is still staring at him with a shocked and puzzled expression sitting on her face. Then she looks around in suspicion as he wiggles his coat off his arms, before her eyes settle on him once again.

“It’s not an episode of Catfish, right?” she asks making him chuckle.

“It is not, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being weird, but this was literally the last thing I was expecting,” she admits leaning back in her seat. “I believed things like this only happen in movies.”

“Not just there,” he smiles, slowly relieving that she is still sitting there and hasn’t ran out. It’s going way better than he expected.

She needs a little time to put the whole picture together and befriend the thought that she indeed just developed a friendship with Harry Styles through her videos for her brother. The absurdity is still shocking to her, but the more time passes by with him still sitting there, the more she finds peace with it.

Once the shock and surprise is gone they slowly realize they are seeing each other in real life finally. Harry feels overwhelmed, she is even more breathtaking than in her videos and through texts. He is mesmerized by her whole being and could listen to her talk in person forever, he wouldn’t get bored of her.

Time stops existing as they sit at the little café, talking for hours even though that’s all they’ve been doing through texts, but they just can’t get enough of hearing each other, seeing each other’s reaction and be able to see each other and not stare at a screen while talking.

Unfortunately, time never stopped just for the two of them and soon she realizes she needs to head back home. Harry doesn’t want to let go of her just yet so he offers to give her a ride, thanking himself for getting a rental for himself upon arriving. Y/N accepts the offer so the two of them head back to her parents’ home, soaking up the last minutes of their precious time spent together.

“Thank you for today, I really loved meeting you finally,” she smiles at him once they are parked on the driveway.

“I hope I didn’t shock you too much,” he chuckles scratching his chin.

“Just a little,” she admits before they both get out of the car and walking around it she stops in front of him, after a moment of hesitation she opts for a hug that he returns more than happily.

It feels as if her frame was perfectly sculpted to fit in his embrace and Harry can’t imagine how he could go this long without even seeing her in person. He knows it’s gonna be utter misery to be away from her after they leave the city.

“Will I see you before you take off?” she asks letting go of him. Harry looks down at her, the urge to kiss her growing bigger with each passing moment, but he is not sure if it would be appropriate to give it a try on their first time meeting.

“I’m free tomorrow for a lunch,” he tells her and she nods smiling.

“Then I’m free too,” she chuckles.

There’s an awkward moment where they are not sure what else should be done or said and the more they wait the weirder it’s getting so Harry clears his throat as he takes a step back, sad that he has to leave without feeling her lips on his, but he is not trying to be too greedy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he smiles walking back to his car. Y/N waves after him and sitting back to behind the wheel he takes a moment to himself to collect himself after everything that has happened today. His hands curl around the wheel and he is about to start the car when someone knocks on the window. Y/N is smiling at him through the glass and he rolls it down curiously.

“I just…” she starts hesitantly, her eyes wander down to his lips and Harry knows what’s about to happen, but it still catches him by surprise.

Y/N leans in through the window and presses her lips to Harry’s, capturing them in a sweet, long awaited first kiss they both have been dreaming of for quite a while. Harry smiles into the kiss, bringing his right hand up to cup her cheeks as they stretch the moment for as long as possible. Whenever one pulls back the other brings them back for just one more kiss that turns into two more, then three… It takes a long time for them to finally let go of each other.

“See you later, H,” she smiles backing out of the car and running up to the front door, smiling wildly as she waves in his way one last time before disappearing in the house.

Lying in bed that evening Harry is scrolling through his Instagram feed when he finally realizes he can now follow her without a worry. He is quick to find her profile again and hit that follow button. He is happy to see she was already following him.

He is just about to put his phone aside and go to bed after such a busy but exciting day when a notification pops up on the screen.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video!

He taps on it quickly and her smiling face greets him from his phone’s screen.

“Hi Sammy! It’s me again. Welcome back to our channel,” she starts with a shy smile. The setting is new this time, he supposes it’s her parents’ home this time. “This is going to be a short video, but I wanted to tell you about something. Or someone.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about where it’s heading. He listens to her voice holding his breath.

“I met someone today. We’ve been talking for a while, but I could finally hug him today. His name is Harry, and he is a wonderful man. I think you two would get along well,” she says with a soft chuckle. “I love spending time with him and I hope he feels the same way. Actually…” Her eyes move up straight to the camera, something she doesn’t do often. She usually stares out the window or plays with Henry while talking. “I think he is watching it right now. Hi Harry!”

“Hello, Beautiful,” he greets her back with a smile as if she could hear him.

“I wanted to tell you how amazing you are making me feel. I hope I didn’t disappoint. I was so nervous to meet you today, I hope I lived up to what you imagined me to be.”

“You were so much better than that,” he answers again.

“Anyway… I hope you feel the same way. You are the first guy I’m talking about in an update, so appreciate it!” she tells him and he chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you soon, H. But until then… Know that I’m thinking about you.”

“M’thinking about you too, Angel.”

“Sammy, I miss you as always. I hope everything is well, can’t wait for your next email. I love you,” she smiles before the video ends.

Harry heads straight to the comments. This time he doesn’t leave a lengthy one, just a short line, but it has everything he wanted to tell her.

“I feel the same way.” The comment reads. Just a few seconds later comes the notification and he smiles sweetly at his phone.

Y/N liked the comment.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry #styles #one direction #harry styles fanfictions

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mack3030 · 4 years ago

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Things the Sims 4 Community Can Do About Paywalls...A Post...

[This is going to be a bit long, so you may want to save it and read it when you have time, or just...you know, buckle in.]

I thought I would ring in the new year by talking about something that I feel we as a community need to finally decide on. (It’s been debated since 2017 or so, and it’s now 2021...) I’d like, if possible, to try to suggest some real solutions and choices that we can make that will hopefully create a better and more honest community out of all of us. Now I would like to start by making some postulates. In geometry, postulates are facts that do not need proven with a mathematical proof. They are assumed to be true. Thomas Jefferson and the founding fathers would call these “Self-Evident Truths”. I would like to use these as a bit of a basis for my arguments.

Truth: The Sims 4 has been enough of a cash cow for EA. If you buy the base game ($40) plus all expansion packs (40 each x 10) + all game packs (20 each x 9) + all stuff packs (10 each x 17) you would come to a total of seven hundred and 90 dollars ($790) plus tax. This is of course, without sales, bundling, etc, which many people DO take advantage of, but STILL. That is a TON of money for EA’s pockets. EA makes a majority of its money on the fact that the Sims 4 is an “incomplete game”. It “completes” the game further and further by adding more “expansions” to the game to the point that it seems almost useless to buy the base game alone without adding to it.

Even with sales and other things, it’s easy to spend over $500 dollars on the sims 4 game + expansions. Still a lot of cash for a game that is years old. This is just money that is spent on the game that goes to EA. This does not account for: * Money spent to buy a new computer because your old one wouldn’t run the sims. * Money spent supporting CC artists who have donations open or early access. * Money spent on access to sites that have ads/paywalls/exclusive sims 4 CC such as Leosims, etc. (Which are the problem, frankly)

We should be able to respect the fact that a majority of us paid a hefty amount for this game. It is unfair, and frankly greedy to REQUIRE people to pay MORE just to unlock or gain access to specific user created content.

I am not talking about a VOLUNTARY support or donation because they like what you offer. I am talking about FORCING people to pay if they want to ever be able to use the CC or mod you offer.

Now, the typical defense for this is “Well, I’m an artist! I spend time/effort/etc working hard on these meshes, the code, etc to make this content!” Which leads me to point #2.

Truth: Mods, CC, and other content for the Sims 4 are useless without the game. Once they are created/uploaded to the game, all copyright to those objects IMMEDIATELY transfers to EA.

I teach art in a Missouri public school. Our state standards dictate that when art students are in middle school grades, they have to learn about copyright, fair use, and creative commons. While I am not a copyright lawyer, I have had to learn enough about this subject to teach it. So allow me to break down a few facts about copyright:

First, when ya make it, ya own it. There’s not a process to apply for a copyright. The moment you create something that is 100% your own work, you hold the copyright to it.

Second, when you make something that is created based off of or USING someone else’s intellectual property as a reference or resource it is a fan creation. In art, we call this “fanart”. It is not 100% your own work. Someone else’s intellectual property is involved.

Fan creations always have tread a very thin and shadowy line when it comes to different companies and the legality of them. You can easily search google for various articles explaining it, but to summarize it in a short method:

Most companies do not actively go after those who create fan creations unless they are making profits that could instead be going to the creators of the intellectual property. If the fan creation is discovered to be making profits and/or taking the intellectual property in a direction the creator does not approve of, they have legal options to pursue (court, cease and desist letters, etc).

Third, Copyright can be transferred from person to person. In most cases this is done through a written document that both parties sign, however there IS an exception to this that EA uses to allow itself to transfer your copyrights to your content to them:

EA’s agreement with you is non-exclusive, meaning that the moment you hit “agree” on the sims 4 terms and conditions, you have handed over your rights to any CC you create for the game.

If you want to maintain full creative rights over the mesh/mods/etc you make then, you have to not make that content for the sims 4 and make your own platform to host it on. This is way easier said than done.

Truth: There have been various examples in the past of CC creators who have stolen meshes, bases, bits/pieces of work, or “inspiration” for CC from other sites/companies, who have been called on it publicly.

The most recent event concerning this was drama concerning itsbrandysims and their use of meshes from imvu/secondlife (you can see my opinion on the subject HERE), but there have been other documented cases. Leosims, for example, has been listed as an example of someone taking meshes from secondlife creators and reuploading them (when it was told to me, I was shown THIS thread as evidence). Another well known creator was accused by a former sims 4 cc creator (who now makes content from second life), and was called out in THIS post in 2019.

The horrible part of this? Many of these creators are charging people (often at not so great rates as well), for STOLEN content. Content they don’t even own, that they ripped from another place. This should not be accepted by a community that loves a game as much as the Sims 4 community. Truth: EA has provided a way for people to make money while not hiding content behind paywalls entirely, and the INTENT of this was to OFFSET COSTS. Almost every post about content locked behind paywalls features this post found on the Sims Forum from 2017. In it, SimGuruDrake, who was the community manager at the time (she has since left the Sims 4 team for another job). Most of you who have seen this discussion topic before know this post by heart, but I’d like to highlight one important aspect of it:

One thing that is always important about communication is the intent behind it. The intent for people to be allowed to make patreons and allow early access wasn’t so people could just make money for themselves, the idea was to offset costs to buy programs to make the content. For example, a yearly subscription to Adobe Creative Cloud (which has photoshop, illustrator, etc) costs a couple hundred dollars US a year. If someone was using photoshop to help them create their CC in addition to blender or other free programs, EA/Maxis wanted to allow the creator to not have to pay for making the CC out of pocket. Can EA/Maxis control what people spend the money they make off of patreon on? No. But it should be noted that the intent of this action was to help people pay for supplies for their hobby more than to make a business out of it.

Onto the next truth! Truth: There is an image that disputes this post above, however the authenticity of it and timing of it are very disputed.

This image is often thrown around by people who lock content behind paywalls, but I would like to take a second and try to provide an honest assessment of it. First of all, I have a bit of a problem with the fact that the original person who “messaged” SimGuruDrake this question has not been identified. This image was not posted on the tumblr of a CC creator who claimed “Hey I reached out to a sims guru and this is the answer I got!” The main pages that have this image are either tweets from CC creators using it to defend their stance on paywalls (ex: here), or tumblrs/tweets “debunking it” (ex: here, here). I even reverse image searched this image using google, and another platform and could not figure out where this originated from. Of course, I’m not an expert, but...still.

The fact that the origin of this picture is unknown casts doubt on it. If it were a well known CC maker who is known for being honest, that’s one thing. But the fact that we don’t exactly know where it came from is suspicious. Because frankly, anyone with some decent editing ability could photoshop this.

Here’s my imperfect edit, but I’m just a self-taught graphics nerd and I am not as dedicated at faking screenshots as some. (And the crap photo quality didn’t help.) Another common issue is that at the supposed “time” that this question was being asked, some state that SimsGuruDrake had already left the Sims 4 team. I will admit, this photo is within the correct timeline, as SimsGuruDrake did not officially depart the sims 4 team until February 2018. (There is a post on the sims forums that has a timestamp that confirms this.) But, if you were in the process of leaving your job within the next month (as a two week/30 day notice is common when leaving a job), would you REALLY be answering questions in DMs on twitter, or be focusing on packing up, and training your successor? The last thing that really makes me doubt the validity of this picture is the fact that it’s not really easy to message the sims gurus on Twitter. This appears to be twitter from the screenshot (although there are some things that are a little out of place from the current UI): But when I attempt to direct message a sims guru I get this message:

I even tried seeing if I could reach out via DM to Drake herself, (who now posts under a different twitter) to see if it was possible:

Could the policies have changed since 2018? Possibly, but I feel that opening up direct messages is just asking for Sims 4 team members to get angry messages, so this could very well be a long running EA policy. I have also reached out to her via a twitter tag (as of 1/2/21), and will update y’all if I get a reply:

Okay, so now that we’ve gone through all of this, let’s talk about the last truth that’s really important: Truth: Putting content behind paywalls has generally been considered disgusting by many in the sims 4 community, and TAKES AWAY the choice of people to support CC creators they love/appreciate WILLINGLY. A few notable posts sharing the disgust with this practice can be found: HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE & HERE). And these are just what I can find from a simple precursory search.

Okay, Brainiac. So what can we do to solve this problem?

Well, there’s a few methods we can employ, and sadly, it’s going to take a bit of a commitment and concentrated effort from the community.

Step #1: Make the COMMUNITY the VICTIM instead of EA.

Now when I say this, I don’t mean we’re actually victims, but mean that instead of constantly saying things like “WHEN YOU DO THIS YOU VIOLATE EA’S TOU!”, thus making EA the “victim” of the crime. We change the dialog to saying “When you lock stuff behind paywalls, you cheat the sims 4 community and disrespect their choice to support you or not.” Because let’s be honest. Maxis/EA really doesn’t give much of a care about if people aren’t following this rule. You can report people to the team, but as far as most people have seen, it doesn’t get anywhere. But if we make it where the community is the party being “wronged” it is much harder for those who have paywalls to not be scared. Because the community, in the end, has to be with them. DepthofPixels had a really amazing post about this HERE.

Step 2: Decide to not support anyone who puts their content behind exclusive paywalls and do not hesitate to spread the word about why you choose not to do so.

By that, I mean

not paying any patreon accounts that don’t offer either their content 100% for free, or offer early access.

And sharing about why you choose to do that on your social media. Something I might suggest would be to make it a bit personal and share something like:

Instead of spending $15 a month to get exclusive content from Leosims (or any other patreon/paywall creator here) I’m spending that $15 supporting creator x, creator y, and creator z, who don’t put their work behind paywalls!

Link their patrons, share why you like their content, and why you take the stance to make the community better. Make it a positive thing, praising the people who are doing RIGHT by the community.

Yes, you may not get their content for a while (although there are some different places (

) to find them *cough*. But in the end, is it worth supporting someone’s content when they’re treating the community badly?

Step 3: Report creators who actively steal content from IMVU/secondlife to those respective companies, and all others to EA. (Even though nothing may happen.)

Here’s the deal. When people steal from either of those sites, they are infringing on someone’s copyright, as well as Imvu/secondlife’s copyright as well. It’s not okay, and they should be held accountable for it. Here’s the LINK for submitting a ticket to Secondlife. I haven’t been able to find one for IMVU, but maybe someone else will find one. Let those companies know and allow them to handle those specific creators. As to the other creators, EA may not handle them at the moment. But IF (and this is a wishful thinking “if”) there were suddenly a flood of messages about certain creators...? I think they might have to pay attention to some of those messages. There is an official report form, but it might even be worth tweeting to SleddingGuruFrost, who is the current community manager asking about their stance on paywalls. And last but not least:

Step 4: Make sure that those who are doing the right thing and not putting their work behind paywalls feel appreciated. Show them some love via a tumblr ask, or by tagging them on twitter, or by going up a tier on their patreon (or pledging for the first time). Celebrate these heroes who are creating content and not forcing it on us.

Us asking for people to give us a choice to support them isn’t being greedy, or disrespecting their time. We just want transparency, and respect from those who create content for the game we love so much versus them treating us like we’re just a source of income. I know it might seem a bit hard to do this for some of you, and for some it may seem like I’m preaching to the choir, but we have to decide where we stand on this issue and stop letting those who abuse this system keep doing it. We can make a difference if we decide as a COMMUNITY to work together.

With commitment, ~Sunny

#sims4cc #sims4mm #maxismatch #sims4alpha #sims4cccommunity #paywallssuck #downwithpatreon #EA #maxis #TOS #thievessuck

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago

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we’re too stupid ~ the vlog squad

word count: 1885

request?: yes!

@iawaythrown “May I ask for a vlog squad x popular youtube reader

The reader has their own very popular youtube channel/podcast like a scientific/space podcast. (Like a Vsauce\GameTheory channel) The vlog squad and the reader fan base (somehow) always wants them to collab. One day David says "It won't happen because the reader probably doesn't like us." This ends up getting everyone on the podcast.”

description: when their favorite youtubers show interest in being on their podcast, they jump at the chance to invite them on

pairing: vlog squad x gender neutral!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“You know what I’ve been listening to a lot lately?” Scotty asked David on the newest vlog David had uploaded. You were watching the vlog on your TV while you prepared to upload the newest episode of your podcast. You had a drink half raised to your lips when Scott responded to his own question, “The Spaced Out podcast.”

Your drink nearly slipped from your hand at the mention of your podcast. You were sure you had imagined it, so you went back and repeated the part just to be sure. The name of your podcast slipped from Scott’s lips again and you had to pause the video to scream with excitement.

When you placed the video again, David spoke next. “Oh wait, is that the one about space and shit? You played it for me before.”

“Yeah! Man, it’s so interesting. I could honestly listen to the host talk about space all day,” Scott said.

“He keeps bringing it up during the Scottcast, too,” Jeff commented. “I’m starting to think he’d rather co-host that podcast instead of our own.”

“Man, I’d love to be on that podcast!”

You could hardly contain your excitement. Your favorite YouTubers knew who you were?! They knew your podcast?! You had to be dreaming, you were sure of it.

“There’s no way they’d ever have us on the podcast,” David was saying. “We’re too stupid and immature, they’d probably hate us.”

“Speak for yourself!” Zane, dressed in some weird costume for a bit, called, causing the boys to laugh together.

This gave you an idea. You put your laptop aside and opened Instagram on your phone. You searched the name “David Dobrik” and went to his DMs.

~~~~~~

A week later, your podcasting room was filled with 11 extra people than there normally was. The room was only small with a handful of seats, so a lot of your guests were squeezed in together or basically sat on one another. No one seemed to mind, though. Every single person in the room was super excited to be there.

“What’s up all my space geeks? Welcome back to another episode of The Spaced Out podcast, the podcast where we discuss super nerdy space things,” you started with your usual intro. “Today’s episode is a little different, though, as today I am joined by not one, not two, not even three, but eleven special guests. You heard me right, eleven. Special guests, wanna say hi?”

All eleven of your guests rang out with a chorus of, “Hello!”s at the one time, making it all come out as just a shouting mess. You laughed and waved a hand to silence them.

“In case you had trouble understanding what they were saying,” you said, “my guests today are David, Scotty, Toddy, Zane, Erin, Carly, Natalie, Heath, Mariah, Corinna, and Jeff, better known as a large chunk of YouTube’s biggest vlogging group: The Vlog Squad!”

The Vlog Squad cheered at their introduction as you just clapped your hands.

“Can I just say,” Heath said once the noise started to die down, “that I am impressed with how fast you said our names and how easy it was. You didn’t even stutter once.”

“I’ll be honest, when David told me exactly who was coming I prepared myself for this,” you admitted. “I’ve never had so many guests on the show before. Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever had any guests at all. I don’t really know anyone in my real life that’s as interested in space and science as I am.”

“To be fair, none of us are, either,” Jeff joked, causing the room to laugh.

“Yeah, you picked the wrong people to be on your podcast,” Corinna added.

“You don’t have to have any sort of interest to be on the podcast, really. As long as you don’t mind me talking about my nerdy space obsession every now and then anyone is welcome on the podcast.”

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure everyone else could hear it. You were shocked that you were managing to remain so calm in that moment. Your favorite YouTubers were sitting right there in front of you, being guests on your podcast, and somehow you were acting as though they were just friends that you had convinced to come on the podcast.

“Is there any cool space facts you can share with us to get the ball rolling?” David asked.

“Dude, I’ve made over 300 episodes of this podcast that is literally all about space, you gotta narrow down your parameters there,” you told him.

“What’s your favorite space fact then?”

You thought for a moment, going through all the little facts you had in your mind. There was so much you could share with them that you really didn’t know where to start.

“Okay,” you said finally, “I have one. I think David will like this cause we all know he’s made of money: there is a planet that is called 55 Cancri e. It is over twice the size of Earth and it is potentially made of diamonds.”

They all gasped and made comments of astonishment at the same time at this.

“Like, literally made of diamonds?” Corinna asked.

“It’s hard to know for sure. It’s roughly 41 lightyears away so it’s not exactly easy to reach, but they think it’s made of graphite and diamonds,” you explained. “My favorite fact, and one that’s a little scary, is that it’s actually completely silent in space. Like not a single sound, because atmospheres around planets are what contain the soundwaves to make noise.”

“I told you,” David said, turning to face Scott. “We’re too stupid to be on this podcast.”

You all laughed together. “You guys aren’t stupid! I was just fascinated with space as a child and my parents let me feed into that fascination. They always bought me books about space and brought me to visit certain space centers. I was that kid that always said she was gonna grow up and be an astronaut. Instead, I just talk about them on the internet.”

Everything was going so well. You were getting to know your guests and they kept urging you to tell them facts and stories about space. You knew a lot of what you were telling them you had talked about on the podcast before, so devoted listeners probably wouldn’t be too interested in a lot of what you had to say in that episode, but you didn’t mind too much. You just loved to see the looks of astonishment on everyone’s faces as you continued to tell them fact after fact.

When you came to a segment you did in the podcast in which you would read messages from fans, you decided to your guests choose which messages to read and respond to. David took the tablet you used for this first and read through the thousands of messages you received between uploading your most recent episode and recording the current one.

“Are you going to talk about the new 4K pictures of Mars?” he read.

“Oh my God, yes!” you responded. “That will be next episode. I haven’t looked at them all yet because I wanna have a live reaction to them, but I did see one picture and it looks absolutely stunning.”

“It blew my mind how it just looked like a desert here,” Carly commented. “Mars is a lot more like Earth than we think. Sucks that we’ll never be able to live there or anything.”

“I don’t think we’ll never be able to live there, but I don’t think it’ll happen in our lifetimes,” you commented. “But that’s a whole other thing, let’s move on from that.”

“What has been your favorite space related story of the past year?” Natalie read the message she had picked.

“I don’t know if it’s my favorite, but it’s definitely one that I was very interested in reading: a star just vanished in 2020,” you responded. “Apparently that’s something that can just happen, stars can just suddenly disappear and no one knows where they went. This star from the Kinman dwarf galaxy that shined almost brighter than the sun just vanished between 2011 and 2020, and they have no explanation for it. That story stuck with me the most cause I just find it funny that a star that bright just vanished and no one can figure out where it went.”

They continued reading you messages for a while before passing your tablet back to you.

“While I wish I could sit here with you guys and talk about space and your vlogs forever, unfortunately we are running out of time,” you said. “I want to thank the Vlog Squad again for joining me on this episode, and I hope I didn’t bore you guys to death with my stories and facts.”

“Not at all!” David spoke. “I can’t speak for everyone, but I really enjoyed myself. Listening to you talk was really interesting.”

The rest of the group agreed. You tried not to blush from all their kind words.

“I always wanna thank our sponsors again. As always I appreciate them supporting my show, and of course I want you guys, the listeners. Your constant support for the show means so much to me. If you wanna hear more fun facts about space that you’ll never use in live, follow me on my social media. If you’re not already following the podcast, follow the podcast! I upload episodes every Friday, and if you want to be involved in the show be sure to send me your space related messages and maybe I’ll read them out on the next episode. Have a good weekend, little space geek out!”

You ended the recording and the group almost cheered for you. You smiled and stood to thank them again for coming on the show. You were shocked when Corinna pulled you into a hug, which caused the rest of the group to hug you one by one.

“This was the most fun I think I’ve ever had,” Erin commented. “Would you be open to having more guests on the show? I’d love to come back and to just listen to you talk for a full hour.”

The rest of the squad agreed. You really didn’t think you could feel any more excited or on cloud nine, but they kept surprising you.

“I would definitely be open to having guests again,” you replied. “If you guys ever wanna be on the show again, just send me a DM. I’d love to have you!”

“We’d love to have you on the vlogs sometime, too, if you’d be open for that,” David told you.

There they go again, making you feel like you had passed cloud nine and now were on a completely different planet with excitement.

“Y-Yeah!” you managed. “Of course, I’d love that!”

After some more small talk, you showed the group out and thanked them again for coming. Once you were sure they were gone and unable to see you, you began jumping for joy and exclaiming with excitement. You couldn’t believe it! You had just hosted a podcast with your favorite people, and they asked you to join them for filming sometime?!

“This is the best day of my life!”

#vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #jeff wittek #corinna kopf #natalie noel #todd smith #scotty sire #david dobrik #carly incontro #erin gilfoy #zane hijazi #heath hussar #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 42)*

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: 18+, this is smut folks. Plus, the usual warnings, and a focus on Ivar’s past experiences/trauma regarding sex, and related issues. Also, idk if I still need to let you know, but I write Ivar as a sub/bottom, always will.

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for being patient with me for taking an extra week to post this update after my return from the hiatus, I think I can get back to a more regular writing/uploading schedule from now on. Hope you like this chapter!

Alongside this chapter I posted an Ivar’s PoV. I very much encourage you to read it. You can find it here :)

Your fingers are quick making the knot, and you find yourself chuckling.

“What is it?” Ivar prompts, but the trail of kisses he leaves down your neck distracts you for a few breaths.

“I married you in red. It means nothing to your people, but does to mine,” You explain, before lifting the wrist that now bears your pendant like a bracelet between you, and tracing the inside of his wrist right under the leather knot. “And now our fates are tied as one, just as they would have in my homeland.”

“What do you mean?”

“When two people get married, amongst the things we do is tie their hands together. Like this,” You demonstrate, putting your palm against Ivar’s, fingers still greedily tracing the inside of his wrist that now bears the mark of your promise. “And a Hiereia would tie a knot to symbolize the union,” Your smile is a little dazed, more than a little lovesick, but you can’t find it in you to care. “Similar to how I did just now.”

“So we are married now?” He teases, and you chuckle, rolling your eyes. Ivar persists, though, a tad more serious, “Before your Gods, are we…are we husband and wife?”

“Of course we are,” You reply, almost affronted. Your brow presses against his, and you turn your hand to intertwine your fingers. “I swore before your Gods and mine to become your wife, did I not?”

He searches your gaze, or is lost in it, for a few breaths before he gives any answer.

The answer, it seems, is a soft smile and a slow blink of his eyes.

“I love you.” He tells you, an answer as well.

He lays his body over yours, and your senses are overwhelmed by his warmth, his scent, him. His hands settle comfortably on your waist as he explores your mouth, tongue seeking entrance you willingly give, but he doesn’t waste a moment to grip surely on the curve of your ass when you bend one leg to bring him closer.

“I want you, I want…” He doesn’t finish his train of thought, choosing instead to trail open mouthed kisses down your throat, nuzzling at the dip between your collarbones, before his kisses grow more heated, gentle sucks and scattered bites over the tops of your breasts.

He is stopped by the nightdress you still wear, and resting his chin in the valley between you breasts, Ivar looks up at you, big eyes dark and plump lips bearing the reddish mark of your kiss. The sight shouldn’t be as distracting as it is, but you still lose yourself in it, and you think he speaks but you cannot hear it, too focused on reaching with one hand and trailing your fingers in through his loose hair.

Ivar says your name, a question, and all you can reply with is an inquisitive, hm?

“Can I…?” His hands bunch up the sides of your nightdress, the intent obvious.

It makes warmth and something else, something darker and made of iron more than silk, blossom in your chest, to hear him ask, to have him await your permission, to have him…surrender.

You nod your head, barely having to put any strength in lifting your body off the mattress to get the dress of since Ivar lifts most of your weight. That will never cease to surprise you, and you don’t think it will ever cease to make you want him even more either.

Laid bare before him, as you have been many a time before, you look up into his eyes. He doesn’t bother hiding anything right now, maybe if he tried he couldn’t, and you are witness to everything that swims in those pale blue eyes. The desire, the awe, the lingering frenzy from when you first told him of your choice, that frenzy of not wanting to waste a moment, a breath.

You had never felt want like this, not until him. You hadn’t felt wanted like this, not until him.

Not until the wide blue eyes that gaze at you like something out of a dream, not until the voice roughened by desire breathing out your name, not until the reverent and frenzied hands exploring whatever part of you that they can reach.

Ivar continues his previous trail, sealing lightning against your skin with every press of his lips over your body, with every caress of rough hands on delicate skin.

Nestled between your legs, he looks up at you with a smile that speaks of arrogance but something sweeter too, something softer.

Hooking one of your legs over his shoulder with practiced ease, Ivar licks a stripe up your center, making you shiver.

One of your hands tangles in his hair as it always does, and as Ivar starts working his tongue against you, your fingers tighten and pull at his hair, only succeeding in making him redouble his efforts, drawing the occasional moan from him that reverberates through you.

He takes his time slowly making pleasure build inside you, tightening like knot in your lower stomach, to the point where your body is begging for release.

In between tight circles of his tongue against the bundle of nerves in your core, Ivar puts his fingers inside you, skillful curling of them making your legs tremble and your breaths stutter.

Praise is falling from your lips, you aren’t sure if in any language he knows but certain he understands regardless, judging by the bite followed by a reverent kiss that he presses to the inside of your thigh.

And you climb higher and higher, lost in him, lost in the pleasure he so willingly seeks to draw out of you as if it your moans were the most exquisite form of praise.

With one last cry of his name that sounds high and breathless, you reach your peak, feeling as if the waves of pleasure rolling over you are never to end.

As you come down, you blink past the daze of pleasure and draw him back up to you, bringing his lips to yours.

You never hesitate in kissing him, even when the evidence of what he has done to you is still on his tongue. If you are honest, tasting yourself on his mouth sends a pang of heat through you each and every time.

And you are hungry and desperate, hungry for pleasure that isn’t yours, desperate for giving him the pleasure you know you can.

Your hand trails down his chest as your mouth demands entrance into his, tongue exploring his mouth leisurely. Your free hand tightens on his hair, and you pull him closer, while you reach exactly where you wanted.

You barely are able to cup your hand around him when Ivar pulls back, breaths ragged.

His hand grips at your wrist, stopping you. You expected that, though.

Ivar takes a deep breath, and states, “It won’t work, you know that.”

Your free hand reaches for the side of his face, trailing down the side of his neck, and you search his eyes as you promise fervently,

“Even if it doesn’t work normally, you can feel pleasure, Ivar. I know you can, I h-…”

“I can’t,” He interrupts you, eyes wide. You remain silent after his words, and a shaking breath leaves his parted lips. Voice low and rough, he explains, “It feels…painful, and…do you think I didn’t try, after that first night with Margrethe? I-I couldn’t go to her again, o-or anyone else, but…I believed she had done something to me, I believed-…she had to be the reason why, it had to be her fault.

You think of how long it has taken him to feel comfortable around you, how much he still struggles with the soft intimacy of just the two of you, how aware he is of his own body and where and when you touch him; and you cannot help but think he most likely wasn’t ready at all to be with that girl. You know him well enough to assume it was probably something having to do with his pride, with that public image that seems to seep into how he sees himself all too often.

Ivar continues, “I tried using my hand to-…I tried, and it…and it was useless. It is of no use,” His expression tightens, a furrow in his nose of old anger, of resentment at the world and Fate itself. “Being touched…it-…I can’t bear it.”

“Have you felt that way with me?” You ask quietly, suddenly sickened by all those times you felt him lean into your touch or almost surrender to the press of your body or your hand against him and believed you were offering pleasure. “Is it painful when I touch you?”

More than anything you wish you could be in his head right now, you wish you could know which are those thoughts that make for a few moments his breaths slightly more panicked, that make something like anguish cross his features before he can offer any words.

“No,” He tells you, letting you breathe easier, “I-It always felt…good with you. But I can’t, you know I can’t.”

Something in you steels at the way his eyes fall from yours. There is no reason he should ever feel he cannot hold your gaze, least of all for something like this.

Your hand on the side of his face is gentle, and he obeys the silent command and returns his eyes to yours. The sight of tears -this time not overwhelmed, happy, disbelieving tears at hearing you are to stay, but defeated, humiliated, helpless- makes you strengthen, offer certainty when he has none.

“It will feel good with me, Ivar,” You say, unwavering. You know it is true. Still, even if you ache to show him, you offer your words and your sincerity and nothing more. “It will feel good, because you are mine and I am yours. There’s no room for pain, for anything else, not when it’s us.

He starts shaking his head, words stuck in his throat but trembling lips trying to form them anyways. You lean closer, the hand on his cheek moving to grasp at the back of his neck.

“You can feel pleasure, my love,” You promise. His eyes -wide, uncertain eyes- jump in between yours, frantically searching your gaze as if truths can be found in you, as if he’s desperately hoping he can believe what you tell him. “Let me show you.”

“I…I’m-…”

You press your lips gently to the corner of his mouth, and even that simple and intimate touch makes him jump, makes the faint tremble of his body slightly worse.

“Shh,” You soothe, daring to put a hand on the center of his chest, the caress firm but soft as you try luring him to a normal breathing. “It is alright. I will stop if you want me to. Is that what you want?”

You lean back just enough to meet his gaze, your heart suddenly picking up speed at the sight of him. Ivar’s eyes are wide and his breathing hasn’t slowed down, and it is after a few shaky breaths that he manages to give you an answer.

The barest movement as he shakes his head, and promises, “I want you.”

Simple words, but they make pure and raw hunger run through your veins like wildfire. A wilder part of you, a part of you that lingers in all the ways he has proved he is yours, wants nothing more than to satiate this hunger with starved touches, demanding kisses and hurried and desperate proof that you want him, however you can have him.

But more than anything you want to erase any memory of any hands on his body that aren’t yours, even if they are his own, when those memories bring forth pain. You want to show him there’s no pain to be felt when it comes pleasure, you want to show him there’s no humiliation to be dreaded when it comes to intimacy.

Pleased with the answer and unable to help yourself, you capture his lips on yours, a leisurely exploration of his mouth as you press as close as you can. Ivar moans against your lips at the first of presses of your mouth on his, leaning into your touch with barely any hesitation.

When you pull back his brow is furrowed and his breaths are fast, and a pang of heat goes through you at the way he licks his lips, already missing the taste of you.

“Then trust in me,” You ask softly, your mouth moving slowly through the curve of his jaw to reach his ear. Voice low, you demand, “Give in to me, Ivar.”

The effect of your words is immediate, and Ivar doesn’t bother containing the overwhelmed little sound, somewhere in between a whimper and a moan, that leaves his parted lips. Your hand on the back of his neck is the one thing that keeps his head from falling back, and the only thought that runs through your head at the sight of him is that he is yours, yours, yours.

Past the daze of hunger and desire, you remind yourself that there will be time for hurried, there will be time for desperate and hungry. There will be time for you to leave your mark on him, there will be time for his skin to bear the reminder that he is yours and yours alone.

But now, now you want to explore every part of him, with hands, with tongue and lips. You want him to feel safe with you, you want to get him drunk on nothing but you.

And so you do.

With aimless but gentle touches of your hands over his body, with presses of your mouth that linger between hungry and soothing, with whispered praises of how much you want him, of how no one compares to him in your eyes, of how good he is for you; you make the lingering tension in his body give way to something else, you make him give in to the lull of touch and the high of being just the two of you and the intimacy between you.

And this time when you reach down and palm him over the thin barrier of his pants he doesn’t even try to stop you, instead offering a haggard breath of your name and nothing else, surrendering to your touch.

He tenses underneath you when you move your hand to reach for him under his clothes, but you press quick and soothing kisses to the exposed skin of his neck and remind him quietly,

“It is just me, Ivar. All I want is to give you pleasure, nothing will change that.”

“Y-You know I-…”

“I know,” You tell him softly, “Just focus on me, focus on how it feels.

After lifting your hand back up to your face to spit on the palm of it and make things easier, you whisper your instructions as you circle your fingers around his cock.

“It feels good when I touch you, doesn’t it, love?” You ask, not expecting an answer, but you do get one, a choked hum of affirmation. You smile against his neck, “It feels so good to finally be able to touch you, to be able to make you feel good.”

Slowly but surely, you feel him hardening slightly under your touch. You still keep the pace of your hand steady, as well as the flow of praise that falls from your lips, certain that if you draw attention to it he will close up or revert to the defeated certainty of before.

When you get him hard enough that even he cannot ignore it anymore, Ivar gasps your name, a call to stop even if you don’t obey it.

“H-How-…? I don’t-…”

“Focus on how it feels, Ivar,” You reiterate, not wanting him to overthink things, not wanting the past to have any reach in this moment. “Focus on me.”

You make sure to keep talking. He has told you many times, and proven even more, that there’s something soothing to him about you talking, either because of the sound of your voice or what you have to say, you truly don’t know.

So with your fingers toying at the waist of his loose pants, you look up and ask,

“Can I see you, my love? All of you?”

Ivar licks his lips, but they still part helplessly as he looks down at you, barely daring make a sound past the gasping breaths that leave him.

And he nods his head. His eyes remain intently on you as you take off his pants, remain on you searching for something in your gaze as you take in all of him.

Bare before you, his skin baring the faintest shine of sweat and a few marks that may be the result of less-than-gentle exploring on your part, you feel your throat tighten, your mouth dry. You want him, you want to make him moan, you want to make him surrender, you want to make him yours.

But, teasing both him and yourself it seems, you take your time, slowly crawling up his body until you are face to face with him, straddling his hips but not close enough for you to be pressed together.

Ivar looks up at you, wide eyes asking -pleading- for something that he doesn’t yet dare voice, chest rising and falling rapidly with each expectant breath.

Your mouth slowly curves into a smile, and keeping your eyes on him in a silent command that he keep looking at you, you reach for his hardening cock.

At the first of your touches Ivar lets out a haggard moan, head craning back and leaving his throat exposed, tempting you to place a few more marks here and there. But you want to see him, you want to see the effect of your touch on him.

“Look at me,” You order, a pang of heat running through you at how quickly, how pliantly, he obeys the command, forcing heavy eyelids to remain open and dark eyes to remain on you. “I want your eyes on me, love.”

His cheeks are tinted red and his eyes are slightly moist as he looks up at you, his hair roughened my movement and the passing of your fingers, he looks like every desire you’ve ever had made man.

The strong body, open gaze, the moans and whimpers he tries and fails at keeping hidden. Perfect. Yours.

You run your thumb over the tip of his cock to gather the moisture that slowly starts forming there, turning your wrist slightly when you stroke upwards. Ivar gasps, almost sitting up, but you put your hand on his chest to stop him.

And…Gods, how easily he complies, leaning back and letting you continue to touch him, surrendering his pleasure to you. And still, in the daze that makes moans and whimpers fall from his lips so easily, he still remembers to keep his gaze on you, to keep endless blue eyes focused on you. The sight of his surrender is enough to make a woman mad.

His lips form helplessly around the words before he even utters them, but eventually Ivar gasps, “It…ah, it feels…”

“Good?” You ask, and he nods his head frantically.

“Y-Yes,” He promises, eyes wide, “Don’t…don’t stop.”

You don’t stop the movements of your hand, but you move down his body, and settle between his legs. Ivar’s eyes are wide, and he looks tortured when he looks down at you.

Licking a trail from the base of his cock to the tip, you delight yourself in the tremble you make take over his whole body, and after a few tentative licks that are there just to see if you can make him beg without having to tell him to, you take him in your mouth.

He moves as if to sit up again, unconscious movement of his body against the new feeling, but you still put one hand against his stomach, keeping him down even if it is not through brute strength that you do so.

Ivar cries out your name as you start moving your mouth over him, while your hand strokes the base of him. And you try keeping your eyes on him as much as you can, not wishing to lose a moment.

You don’t keep track of time, couldn’t even if you wanted to, but you do notice him climbing closer and closer to that edge. It is written in the tension of his arms and shoulders, in the red that starts spreading over his chest, in the way the sounds he makes are broken by whimpers, in the breaths that stutter over one another.

But he stops you again.

“S-Stop, pl-…ah, please stop,” He pleads, taking a few shallow breaths when you pull back. His hands grip tightly at the sheets underneath him, and breath by breath he starts to let go. Once his hold on them is almost loose, he speaks again. “Stop, or I will…I…don’t want this to end yet.”

Your heart does a strange thing in your chest, and you move back up to be face to face with him. Your eyes linger on the few details that make him look so utterly wretched, from the faint shine of sweat on his forehead to the bite marks on his lip.

You want to kiss him, but hesitate, wondering if he will be disgusted by his own taste. Ivar doesn’t even think about that, it seems, for when you are close enough he lifts a trembling hand and tangles it in your hair, bringing your lips to his, kissing you slowly and deeply.

You pull back, a hand on his chest, and promise, “It isn’t the end, love.”

“I want to be inside you.” He argues.

“And you will be,” Is the answer you give, before kissing a quick path down his chest. Grasping him in your hand once again, you look up at him. Unable to resist the temptation, you grant the faintest of licks to his tip, making a ragged groan leave his lips. “But before that, I want to make you come undone, using just my mouth.”

He doesn’t offer any resistance after that, but judging by the way his breaths get quicker and his eyes flutter shut before you even get to put your mouth around him again, your words had a deeper effect on him than you had anticipated.

Bracing yourself on his thighs, you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, ignoring the discomfort of your jaw as you move your mouth over him.

The litany of sounds that leaves his lips becomes more ragged and broken the longer you pleasure him, even if it isn’t that long until you notice the clear tells of him being close to the edge again.

This time you redouble your efforts, daring to moan slightly around him, making a string of curses leave Ivar’s lips. And when you reach with one of your hands to play with his balls, his hands grip desperately at the sheets underneath him once again.

As Ivar’s voice begins to give out, head turned to the side and nothing but broken moans leaving his lips as you get him closer and closer to the edge, you try your hardest to commit this moment to memory. This moment, of his voice sounding so beautifully wretched by the pleasure you give him, of his body pliant under your every touch and desperate in equal measure.

Ivar reaches his peak with a hoarse shout, his back arching off the bed, wide eyes looking at the nothingness above him. You are lost in the sight of him lost in the throes of pleasure, and you can almost ignore the bitter taste of his seed as you swallow.

He loses all strength and collapses against the bed, gasping breaths as he comes down from his high. You move back up against him, pressing a kiss against his chest and resting there, soaking up his warmth.

His hand settles on your waist, but it does so with such effort that pride surges through you. His chest still heaves under you, and as you lay your cheek against his heart, you hear it beating wildly under your ear.

“That was…” He lets out an incredulous laugh, a breath past parted lips. His eyes meet yours, “Thank you.”

“Hm, so polite,” You tease, pecking his smiling lips. “I’m still going to insist that I told you so.”

And for now you remain in this moment you wouldn’t change for anything, this moment of leisurely traces of hands on each other’s bodies, this moment of kisses exchanged like secrets, this moment of a beginning in more ways than one.

____ ____ ____

So that happened! Hope it was okay! Thank you for reading!

You can find Gǫfga, the Ivar PoV that continues from this chapter, here.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter @the-a-word-2214 @fae-sedai @crazybunnyladysworld @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside@aprilivar @msrawog

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #νοσταλγία masterlist

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megthemewlingquim · 4 years ago

Text

WATERMELON SUGAR

Summary: Breathe him in, breathe him out.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: very brief smut, (public) oral sex (female receiving)

A/N: This is Chapter Two of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by Watermelon Sugar, the first song I actually listened to by Harry (as a solo artist). I know he means for the meaning of this song to be open ended but come on, we all know that this song is about doing the dirty.

I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 PM EST.

A NOTE: EACH CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL BE A TIME SKIP FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. NO CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL OCCUR DIRECTLY AFTER ANOTHER.

Read Chapter One, "GOLDEN", here!

Find the “Fine Line” masterlist here!

The sun shines, and the waves of the ocean crash onto the rocks and the shores of the beach. The sand is a beautiful white, and people laugh and talk as they lay on it, relishing in each others’ company.

And you are no exception to this. Loki lays beside you, on a pink blanket that you brought. He had mumbled, “I’m not laying on that,” but once he saw you lay down, he sighed, though not with annoyance, and went to join you.

“I’m not used to this heat,” he says. Black sunglasses cover his green eyes, but you can tell he has his eyes on the water in front of you. “I was born on a planet of snow. I am forever cold. But this… this feels quite nice.”

You can hear laughter and cheers from a group of people to your left. They are all dressed in bathing suits and sunglasses, and they lay on towels as well. It seems they are being well-fed as well, as they all snack on fruit — you can see some of them eating watermelon slices. As you glance over to them, you see other people, people who are not in the original group, being offered the fruits as well.

“Want some watermelon, sugar?” you ask, a grin on your face.

“Hm?” Loki asks. “What’s that?”

It takes a second for you to register it. “Wait, you’ve—” you stammer in disbelief, “you’ve never…” You stand up, looking determined. “You’ve never had watermelon? I’m getting you some.”

“Love, you don’t have to —” Loki tries to object.

“Nope, you’ve awakened my curious side. I wanna see how you like it.” You grin down at him again. “Hold on a second.” With that, you start to speed-walk down the sand.

Loki looks at you as you leave. His eyes roam all over you, and they spend a second longer on your ass than anything else. You wear a thin, small pair of bikini bottoms, and your legs are waxed and smooth.

He sighs, contentedly, laying completely on his blanket, letting the sun warm his face and his bare chest. He closes his eyes. He knows he can’t sleep, not in this midday sun, but simply resting is good enough for him now.

A cool drop of something lands on his face a few minutes later, and it startles him a bit. However, he relaxes when he realizes it’s just you standing above him, holding something in your hand.

“Eat up, babe.”

Loki reaches up and swipes the drop of the wet something off his face. Tentatively, he licks it. “Hm,” he muses. “That’s sweet.”

“Try biting it, you’ll love it.” With a little grunt, you sit next to him again, offering him a piece of watermelon. He takes it.

After a bite and some slow chewing, he hums again in approval. “That’s nice. Quite refreshing.”

“Glad you like it,” you say cheerfully. You nod over to the party to your left. “Y’know, those people were awfully friendly. Extremely kind. Very, uh, open and cheerful. They didn’t seem to care about whether or not anyone was a stranger, they let them join anyway. It was just…” You stop, trying to search for the words. “Love all around. There was plenty of food to go around, more than just watermelons — also raspberries and blueberries. They were awfully cuddly, too.”

“Perhaps they’re on something,” Loki says smugly. “Maybe they’re all high.”

“You might think that, but maybe that’s because it’s not… not widely accepted to be cuddly and open in public.” You roll your eyes, though not at him. “Why can’t everyone just treat people with kindness?”

“You’re human. You have your faults. Those people? They might’ve just learned to move past them. We can all learn from them, can’t we?”

“Yeah,” you say. “They might also just be relishing in the fact that we can be close to each other again. Physically, I mean. I don’t know if you were here in 2020, but... uh, there was a —”

“I remember,” Loki smirks, though not at the unfortunate memories of what had happened back then. “Perhaps we can learn from them about that, too… would you like to stay here until dark, my love? We could walk around, do whatever it is you humans do in the ocean, find some supper, just spend the whole day here?”

“What’s that look on your face for?” you chuckle. “Do you have something planned?”

He gasps, faking surprise. “My darling, why would you ever think that? It’s just an innocent day at the beach. Besides, they’re not getting… too intimate.”

“What’s ‘too intimate’ supposed to mean?” you ask, a little something creeping into your head and making you smile.

He smirks but says nothing. Instead, he changes the subject. “Did you meet anybody when you went down to that group of people?”

Playfully, you roll your eyes at him. “Everyone there said hello, but I really didn’t get to talk to anyone besides this one man. He was dressed as if it were spring, not summer — he was wearing a multicolored shirt, a freakin’ vest, and some sort of jeans. I don’t know what he was thinking, but he certainly looked nice. I also liked his nails, they were colored as well.”

You look at the water as you chew your fruit. “You’d look nice with black nails, maybe even green ones.”

He hums in thought. “Maybe…”

The day passes quite slowly, but you don’t mind. It stays hot and the sun stays visible. Clouds are almost nonexistent, which is always a plus when you want to swim.

Loki joins you, and you make great fun of splashing each other. When you go deeper into the water, he finds enjoyment in diving deep, coming up in front of you, holding your face in his hands, and kissing you before going back under. You’re taken aback the first few times, then you get the message and kiss him back with a breathy laugh.

Drowning is of no thought to you. You can swim, but even if you couldn’t, you know Loki would take care of you. He always stays close and you keep your eyes on each other.

When it gets a little later, you get out of the water and dry off. Many people have already left, including the little party you encountered. Only a few people remain, some of them in couples, and they either rest on their towels or walk on the shoreline.

“Could we stay here a little while longer?” Loki asks. “There’s one more thing I’d like to do.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say amiably, though you wonder what ‘one more thing’ might be.

You both wait until everyone else has left. By this time, you’ve put your shirt on, for your bathing suit has dried but it is getting colder. Loki has not put anything more on him. Perhaps he welcomes the cold.

When Loki starts to move, you look at him. He shuffles to you, practically crawling to you. You gasp as he lightly pushes you back onto your towel. Your head lands not on the hardness of sand but on a little pillow that was not there before.

“Loki, Loki, wh-what are you —”

He shushes you, and just that alone makes you shiver with arousal. “If you allow me, I would like to give you something… I’ve been here all day, resisting the urge to take you in front of all of those people. Do you know how difficult that was?”

“N-no,” you answer. “But —” You interrupt yourself with a nervous chuckle. “—knowing you, you probably couldn’t hold it in for long.”

“Hence,” he grins, looking down at you, his eyes lingering on your “quim”. He likes that word. He’s used it before. “Would you mind if I go down on you? I just wanna taste it. Maybe give you an orgasm. Whatever works for you.”

You nod frantically, but then you look around. No one else is on the beach, no one else is present to look at you.

“Do not worry about that,” Loki says when he notices your worried glances. He laces your fingers with his own, holding your hand and running his thumb across your skin in comforting little motions. “No one is here, sweetness, just look at me. Do that, or look up. I know how you are when I do this. Sometimes you’re too self conscious to see me doing this to you with all my enthusiasm. So, if you want, look up. I won’t mind.”

You breathe out shakily, and your breath gets caught in your throat as you see Loki pull your bottoms to the side. Immediately, he begins, latching his tongue and lips to your most intimate parts. He licks and sucks all around, paying special attention to your clit — he knows what you like. Your stomach heaves as you breathe.

“I don’t know if I could ever go without this,” he moans. “You’re so wonderful and... and warm...”

You established long ago that Loki actually takes pleasure from pleasuring you, but it never fails to catch you off guard.

After a particularly hard suck to your clit, you moan, and it is louder than intended.

Loki seems to like it. “Sounds just like a song. Sing for me.”

A laugh then. “Okay, Phantom.” When Loki looks up at you in confusion, you shake your head. “I’ll show you later.”

Soon, it’s not long before you’re squirming in your chair, breathing heavily as Loki holds you down. The coil in your gut is rising, and rising fast. Loki’s drive to please you is incredible, and you can tell he’s determined.

You moan, quite shamelessly, out loud as you reach your end, and it takes quite a long time for you to regain your senses. Loki smiles up at you once he gets his mouth off of your quivering pussy. “Was that good, love?”

You laugh, breathlessly. “Yeah. Yeah, that was good. Thank you.”

You leave without saying much else about it. He takes you home, and kisses you in the doorway as you move to leave. The sun is long gone, and the moonlight fills the air with a white glow.

You turn to close the door behind you.

In a split second decision, you pull him into the house, and he doesn’t resist. He stays the night, in your house and in your bed.

#fine line #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki #loki laufeyson #loki smut #loki odinson #harry styles #fanfiction #romance #loki fanfic #loki of asgard #mcu loki #marvel #mcu #angst

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brightest-ideas · 4 years ago

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(I meant to upload this yesterday but it was late and I was too tired to write, so just pretend this happened yesterday. 1300+ word fanfic under the cut, the Bright Brothers deserve some bonding)

It's been some time since Jack had seen his brother rush to the bathroom. He always made sure his siblings wouldn't see him cry, with a mixed success rate, but the middle Bright brother got quite good at recognising whenever his sibling was upset and although he knew Mikell would hate it if he knew he couldn't help but be concerned.

Jack glanced from time to time from the TV program he was watching with TJ towards the bathroom, tapping his finger on the armrest of the sofa while his leg nervously bounced in place. It's been an hour now and no sight of his older brother yet.

Wordlessly he got up from the couch and headed towards the bathroom. Three rhythmic knocks followed by an uncertain teenage voice, almost breaking halfway through.

"Mikell?"

No response. He felt like his stomach was about to flip in on itself.

He grabbed the handle and creaked the door open, first just slightly, preparing to get berated for barging into an occupied bathroom; but the familiar voice never came, prompting him to swing the door fully open and was immediately hit with the cold night air. His brows furrowed as he started into an empty room, no Mikell, just an open window.

He sighed heavily with just a slight hint of relief which was quickly overpowered by more stress. Of course, his brother would sneak out. But why the window?

Closing the window and the door behind him, Jack headed back to the living room and grabbed his jacket, glancing at TJ as he dressed up and put on his shoes.

"I'm heading out for a second, be back in a bit."

He waited for TJ to nod in acknowledgement before heading out the door. As he exited the house the sound of the show faded away, being replaced by the ever-present cricket songs. The sun had almost completely set, only dimly illuminating the ground and his surroundings; in the background, the trees appeared almost completely black and the sky was slowly turning dark blue, the first stars poking out from between sparse, dark clouds. Despite this, he didn't feel the need to grab a flashlight as he briskly stepped down the porch and turned towards the backyard, the dim light of the late evening and the soft, yellow glow cast from the house's interior were enough to guide him.

He paused just briefly in the middle of the backyard, contemplating where to go, or more accurately where Mikell could have gone. He briefly glanced towards the stables, seeing all five of their horses still in their enclosure, some sense of relief washing over him. Had his brother taken one of the horses and rode somewhere, there was no way for Jack to find him, especially not with his lacklustre horse riding skills. But if none of them was missing, that meant Mikell was still at their farm or at the very least close. His gaze then turned to the barn; he might as well start searching on the farm before going anywhere else, and his older brother tended to sit at the very back of their property, sulking by himself whenever he was upset and didn't want any of them to see him. It was probably the best decision to start looking there.

He stepped into the red, wooden barn, silently going past the stacks of hay and straw to the back; he stopped in his tracks, seeing the back door open wide and, lucky him, his brother, sitting where he always would, watching the horizon silently. He frowned, wondering how the hell Mikell wasn't cold in what he was wearing or if it was an intentional decision on his part, the latter idea upsetting him even more.

He walked up behind his sibling and wrapped his arms around his neck, which made Mikell jump in surprise and grip one of the boy's arms tightly.

"Oh, holy- don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry." But Jack just tightened his hug, leaning his cheek against Mikell's head.

The older man sighed and loosened his grip. "What are you doing here?"

"I was curious where you were." He lied, knowing Mikell never liked it when somebody was worried for him. "It's getting dark already."

"I can see that. I just needed a moment to cool off."

"Mh..." Jack leaned his chin on top of the older one's head and scrunched up his nose, coughing as the sharp, bitter smell of smoke hit his nostrils. "Mum wouldn't like that you're smoking, you know?"

Mikell huffed. "It's not like that woman has any way of knowing." He brought up the cigarette to his lips and took another whiff of it, some of the ash falling on the ground.

The younger brother frowned, gripping the sleeves of his jacket gently. "...Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well...I saw...uh..."

The long-haired ginger turned and looked up at his younger brother with a perplexed and troubled look, making Jack lose his grip on him.

"I saw how they upset you again."

"You saw all that?"

Jack nodded and his sibling sighed heavily.

"Jack-" He patted the ground next to him. "Come here." As he sat down, Mikell pulled him closer, wrapping his free arm around the back of his brother. "I don't want you worrying about me, alright? That's my job, not yours."

"But-"

"No buts, Jackie." He brushed some hair off the younger one's face. "I'm your caretaker, I should be worried about you. Not the other way around."

James grimaced but stayed quiet, bringing the legs up to his chest and slightly leaning against Mikell, looking at the ground as the two sat still in silence broken only by the sound of Mikell breathing out the cigarette smoke.

"...What if I tell them-"

"No."

The older Bright brother's voice was so sharp and stern, it almost took the younger one by surprise. He looked up at him, meeting his brother's harsh gaze.

"But it's not fair, if they knew-"

"I said no, James. You understand it's not safe for you, don't you?"

"But-"

"James." Jack winced at Mikell's tone, it was the exact one he'd always use when reprimanding him, he didn't like it. "You can't just trust strangers. I can't be sure that they wouldn't tease you or go tattle to somebody. I would much rather they harass me than you."

The younger boy huffed, crossing his arms as he looked away. "...Fine."

"I want you to promise you won't tell anyone, as we agreed."

James stayed silent, clenching the fabric of his jacket.

"James, look at me."

Reluctantly so, he looked up at his brother, noticing his expression was much more concerned than before.

"I need you to promise you won't tell anyone."

"I promise."

"Good." He ruffled his younger brother's hair, ignoring the complaints and the tight grip of James' hand on his wrist. "You know I only do this because I don't want to see you hurt."

"...I know." He grumbled, pushing the other one's hand away. "It's just...frustrating."

"I know."

"And it's not fair! The fact that they insist you're a bad brother when they don't even know-"

"I know." He put his hand on Jack's head. "I understand you don't like it, but I told you already."

"You'd rather they pester you than me, I know."

"Exactly."

"I just..." Jack sighed, leaning against his brother gently. "I hate to see you hurt too, you know?"

"I can handle myself, little man. I'm an adult, unlike you." He took one final puff of his cigarette before snuffing it out on the ground. "Alright, I think it's time to go home." He hopped up to his feet, quickly dusting himself off and gave Jack a hand, helping him up too. "It's getting late and you have school tomorrow."

"Ugh, don't remind me."

#mike.txt #jack.txt #scp #scp foundation #mikell bright #o5 6 #dr bright #dr jack bright #note james is my headcanon for jack's full name. its a nice name so :)#long post

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mariamermaid · 4 years ago

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Crush

Modern! Harry Potter x fem!Granger!Reader

Summary: Y/N Granger, the absolute Queen amongst the students, with many admirers and even Harry himself, finds himself falling for his best friends sister.

Words: 2.7k

A/N: Requested anonymous: “heyaaa, can you make harry potter x fem reader in which the reader is hermonie's elder sister and very popular in the school and harry has massive crush on her? like the song crush by tessa violet?” I also decided to write this in a more modern style! I feel like all my Harry Potter imagines end at a party?? But who cares.

Your laughter echoed through the hall before any of them could even see you. Harry immediately felt his heart speeding up, while Hermione next to him, only let out a sigh. You turned the corner and Harry, Hermione and Ron finally made eye contact with you. You had joked with Cedric Diggory and Harry felt an even deeper sting in his chest. Quickly, you waved your goodbye at the Hufflepuff boy before joining your sister and her friends.

“Mione, you look like seven days of rain were just announced!”

Hermione only rolled her eyes, no one really fully understood how the two of you were related. Ever since beginning your education a year prior to Hermione´s, you had been crowned one of the most popular students. Unlike her, who especially struggled with making friends in her first weeks, you were at ease with social contacts. Another difference was your approach at studying, you simply didn´t enjoy spending hours and hours at the library and yet, you weren´t bad at any subjects. You weren´t class best, but at the top five. Outgoing, adventurous, funny and charming; it was no wonder why everyone seemed to like you.

Usually, your popularity wasn´t a problem for your younger sister, but lately Hermione realized a changed she wasn´t very fond of.

Harry.

Within the past weeks, he had been daydreaming a lot and barely focused on anything anymore. And unlike Ron, who was probably last to find out if he wasn´t explicitly told, Hermione quickly realized why that was.

I can't focus on what needs to get done

I'm on notice hoping that you don't run,

“Haha, very funny Y/N!” You nudged her side grinning. “So, what are you guys up to anyways? Trouble I reckon?” Ron and Harry smiled as you chatted with them.

“Hermione makes us study for the upcoming potions exam”, Ron explained, which annoyed Hermione even more and you laughed lightly. “Ron, you should start listening to her, pretty sure she´s the only reason you haven´t failed.” You turned to the boy with the glasses.

“What about you Harry? Sentenced to study as well?”

Harry opened his mouth, but before any words left his lips, Hermione pulled him closer.

“Yes, his talent won´t let him pass all the exams!”

You gave the two boys a pitiful pout, but then switched back to your smirk.

“Anyways, I´ll have a date at Hogsmead to try on the upcoming summer collection!”

You think I'm tepid but I'm misdiagnosed

'Cause I'm a stalker, I seen all of your posts,

Two hours later, Harry got a notification on his phone; Y/N uploaded a picture on Wizagram! Hermione, who was currently too focused on Ron, didn´t see how Harry sneakily took his phone and hid it beneath the desk. You stood smiling widely in the shop Feathers and Fabrics, wearing a dress from the newest collection. Even though you had posted the picture only minutes ago, the likes were already rolling in and the comments didn´t hold back as well.

Harry read your caption; Guys, this is only a small sneak peek, just wait there will be more!

And I'm just tryna play it cool now

But that's not what I wanna do now

And I'm not tryna be with you now, you now

A lot of the comments were from female students. “You look so stunning!”

But then again, a few of your male followers couldn´t hold back. “Gee Y/n, is it hot in here, or is you?”

Harry felt heat rushing up to his head, but tried to play it cool, so his friends wouldn´t notice. Quickly he hit like and put the phone away, trying to focus back on studying. But the words in front of him were beginning to blur and tumble. You weren´t dating anyone currently, but everybody knew you had enough options. Fred and George even made bets on it, secretly hoping one of them could win you for themselves. Each time the topic was discussed, Harry felt the pit in his stomach, digging deeper and deeper. He was the chosen one, but would you ever choose him?

Hermione noticed her friend beginning to trail off, but it wasn´t the right time to address it yet.

The weekend approached, the old game of Gryffindor against Slytherin was in everybody’s mouth. Harry was just getting dressed for the game, then his eyes fell back on his phone. He unlocked it and found himself back on Wizagram, you had posted a boomerang in your story with the Weasley twins. Both of them wore their Quidditch uniform and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. You wore a hat with the Gryffindor colors and a light dress in red, while grinning widely into the camera. “Rooting for my fave team!”

Both Fred and George as well the Gryffindor Quidditch Account, who was proudly run by Oliver Wood, were tagged in the story. Harry quickly scrolled past, realizing that each of the tagged Accounts had reposted your story. It was stupid to think you wouldn´t root for him, but he wasn´t tagged, was he?

It’s a stupid crush, Harry reminded himself, but even later when he stepped onto the field with the team, his eyes only searched for you in the crowd.

But you found his glance as well, offering him a reassuring smile. It´s all he needed, those very few seconds of your attention and the game started.

The game was at tie, but the rooting and shouts from the fans kept going either way. Harry tried to play cool as he searched the arena, secretly searching for you. As he found you again, you hadn´t even moved from your seat, he noticed your eyes guiding him. Just above the tower of the Hufflepuffs, the golden snitch hovered. He didn´t have time to rethink and his muscles moved on their own as he leaned forward to start rushing. Draco tried his best to follow, but he was at the other end, and Harry easily caught the snitch and held it up proudly.

“And Harry Potter proves again, Gryffindor is unbeatable this season!” The speakers echoed and the crowd went even more crazy than before. All Harry could think about however, was he had to thank you. But the moment he landed back on his feet, he was carried off to the Gryffindor room, where the party immediately started.

It felt like eternity, until he finally found you in the overfilled place. But there you stood, smiling innocently at him, like you had been waiting all along for him to approach.

“I think I owe you a thank you.”

You make it difficult to not overthink

And when I'm with you I turn all shades of pink,

I wanna touch you but don't wanna be weird

It's such a rush, I'm thinking wish you were here,

Harry had to lean forward in order for you to hear him, feeling as your hair brushed against his skin. You winked at him. “Yeah, you do, but we´ll keep it between us.”

He wanted to lean further, his hand twitched as he tried not to reach out and touch the bare skin of your arms. Even your smell felt divine to him. Before he could speak up again, Niall Atkinson, he was a year older than you, wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Y/n, let´s dance!” He offered loudly as he pulled you closer. In the same second, Ron, Fred and George swept Harry into their circle to begin dancing as well, even though it was more an uncontrolled jumping. Harry could only catch your apologizing glance, before the space closed and the two of you were pulled into different directions.

And I'm just tryna play it cool now

But that's not what I wanna do now

And I'm not tryna be with you now, you now

He truly wanted to celebrate the success with his team, but his attraction craved more of your presence. But what was he supposed to say? Sorry, I have to run after the girl, that everybody anyway wants and is also my best friends’ older sister, but my biggest crush?

No, he couldn’t.

So, he tried to overplay it, danced and jumped around with Ron, but the shine in his eyes was gone. Hermione sat on the stairs, glancing back and forth between you and Harry. She knew both of you well enough, to tell that neither of you were fully happy at the moment. An inaudible sigh escaped her mouth, what was once jealousy, turned into sadness. Yes, her best friend had the biggest crush on her sister, but what no one knew, was your crush. You had never told Hermione, or anyone for that matter, but the reason why you never accepted a date offer, was because the wrong people asked you out. Hermione didn´t fear losing Harry as a friend anymore, she much more feared that the two of you never even got a chance to be happy together, and instead ended unhappily alone. She had to do something.

Then, an idea formed in her brilliant mind.

You starred on your phone; Harry had sent you a dm on Wizagram. He had never texted you, your history simply persisted in you tagging him, when you posted stories. Usually, you hung around Hermione at the three broomsticks and more so often, you tagged the trio in your account.

I wanted to talk to you, can we meet outside at the corner to the girl’s bathroom?

Your heart skipped a beat, quickly you looked up to check, if anyone had noticed your blush, no one had. You couldn´t make out Harry either, but you quickly excused yourself from Niall. Whatever was happening, you found it quite exhilarating. You answered with a quick yes and Hermione hastily logged out of Harry´s account. Harry was a brilliant wizard with many talents, but writing down his password in his herbology book wasn´t the smartest move.

Hermione grinned, her plans always worked out.

But I could be your crush, like, throw you for a rush, like

Hopin' you'd text me so I could tell you

I been thinking 'bout your touch like

“Harry!” The brown-haired boy looked up to find his friend approaching him, Hermione smiled brightly. Almost too brightly, but Harry wasn´t focused enough to realize that something was up.

“Have you seen Y/n?”

Harry quickly shook his head and Hermione, good actress as she was, put on a thinking mien.

“I haven´t seen her as well, just wanted to make sure she´s okay, she´s been so quiet lately.”

“Quiet? I didn´t notice”, Harry explained and Hermione could literally watch how his thoughts began running around you. “I´m sure it´s nothing, but I think I´m going to check her room.”

“I can check outside!” Harry quickly announced, she had to suppress a laughter, he was easily tricked. But instead, Hermione nodded agreeing and while she only took the first few steps up, Harry hurried outside, not wasting any time. Only seconds before, you had left the room as well. Everything was coming together.

Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch

I could be your crush, crush, crush, crush, crush

I got a fascination with your presentation

Makin' me feel like you're on my island

You're my permanent vacation

Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch

You stood outside, hiding behind a corner and almost disappearing in a nook, but Harry immediately recognized your figure. You looked up from the phone in your hands and felt as a smile crawled upon your lips. Harry felt his heart fastening and he approached with swift feet.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked with worries in his voice, your brows furrowed. Something felt off, but you pushed that feeling to the side. It was probably just your nervousness. “Yeah, I´m good, are you enjoying your party?”

Harry shrugged, his eyes traveling to the floor. “It´s always a bit of the same, isn´t it?”

You nodded agreeing and a short, awkward silence formed. “What was it, you wanted to talk to me about?”

Harry looked up, now confusion in his expression as well. He wondered, if you had noticed his change of behavior towards you. But he never mentioned it out loud, or did?

But you watched his reaction closely, something clearly was up and while Harry was still trying to piece everything together, you took out your phone again. Holding up the screen, which enlightened the dark hallway, you showed him the text.

“Y/n, I´m so sorry, I don´t know how… I didn´t send that text…” Harry stumbled over the words and regret rolled over him. It wasn´t his fault, and yet he felt responsible for pulling you away from the party. You on the other hand felt shame rising and your cheeks heated with fire. His text had seemed too surprising from the beginning on, you should´ve known better. You felt stupid and wanted to crawl into a deep, dark hole and never come out again. Stupid crush!

Letting out a loud sigh, you sat down on the bench of the nook, putting your hands to cover your face.

“Did you just say stupid crush?”

Oh, if it was heat in your cheeks before, then hell just got unleashed. Where is that hole of shame, when you needed it the most?

Harry carefully sat down next to you, with your hands still up, you only felt the slight air breeze. “I shouldn´t be saying this, you´re Hermione´s sister, but I like you.” He paused shortly.

“A lot. More than I ever should.”

Swiftly, you glanced through your fingers at him. “You do?”

Barely a whisper as you opened your mouth, but enough to watch as Harry nodded. Slowly you took down your hands, now starring at him with a blank expression.

“Why did you never say anything?”

Harry couldn´t help but huff. “Y/n, have you seen yourself? You´re school queen, nobody hates you, not even Draco Malfoy! You´re always on top of the grades and basically the entire Quidditch team has a crush on you. On the side, you´re head girl and you´re modeling for Feathers and Fabrics. And to all that, you don´t even realize, how undeniably stunning you look and how your kind words inspire me every day?”

I could be your crush, crush, crush, crush, crush

Sorry

And yeah, it's true that I'm a little bit intense, right

But can you blame me when you keep me on the fence, like?

And I've been waitin', hopin' that you'd wanna text like

Text like

It's what I was born to do

And yeah, it's true that I'm a little bit intense, right

As he spoke, you jumped off your seat, feeling a wave of way too many feelings rave inside of you. “Harry Potter!”

Finally, he looked up as well and just to find you gaping at him. “Why by Merlin´s beard, would I care about the Quidditch team? Do you think I don´t know about the bets going on, on who´s going to be my boyfriend? The only reason because I don´t have a boyfriend yet, is because the only boy I´m interested in, was too shy to ask me out! And imagine, he´s brave enough to fight Voldemort instead!”

It was Harry´s turn to search for that hole of shame and he couldn´t help, but facepalm himself. There was no way that the situation could’ve been more awkward and playing cool wasn´t an option either. You listened to your heartbeat slowing down and your chest lifted heavily after your outburst.

“If I had known about your crush…” You trailed off, your words now barely a whisper anymore.

And I'm just tryna play it cool now

But that's not what I wanna do now

And I'm not tryna be with you now, you now

Finally, Harry lifted himself off the bench as well, walking towards you. “I didn´t send that text, but maybe I can ask you out in real life?”

A shy smile was on his lips, it suited him so well in the dim light.

“I´d like that very much.”

Carefully, you leaned forward, feeling his warm breath on your skin. “But let´s not tell anyone just yet, we have to find a way to get back to my sister.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrow, but quickly realized as well, who had hacked his account.

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Grinning, you finally felt his warm lips brushing against yours. It had taken a couple of misleadings, but your crush had found its way in the end.

But I could be your crush, like, throw you for a rush, like

Hopin' you'd text me so I could tell you

I been thinkin' 'bout your touch like

#harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x reader #daniel radcliffe #harry potter fanfiction #mariamermaidimagine

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thewhitejournal · 4 years ago

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“Just One More Night” Part Three

Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader Series

hello everyone! i’m so sorry i haven’t been uploading, life has just been a little crazy lately but i’m going to try to upload more frequently, i promise. in the meantime, here’s part three. and it’s a little lengthy, i hope you all like it! much love 🤍

content warnings: descriptions of pain, cursing, implication of sexual assault, cutting (not self inflicted)

masterlist

You slowly slipped into consciousness, a pinching, tight feeling on your wrists and at your ankles. The room was dark, or were you blindfolded? Your eyes didn’t feel like they were shut, but maybe they were; your senses were all fucked. You couldn’t tell where you were or what was happening. You felt your heart quicken in your chest as you realized the full extent of the danger you were in.

A searing pain suddenly spread through your body, the origin of it you were unsure of. But it was worse than anything you’d ever felt. You clenched your jaw and your body tensed at the sensation flowing through your body. Suddenly, the distant sound of footsteps grew louder. They were heavy and loud. The person they belonged to sounded like they were wearing boots.

A finger traced the bare skin on your shoulder. You kicked yourself internally for picking such a thin and strappy dress to wear to graduation. The finger looped under the shoulder straps for your dress and bra, tugging them down your shoulder. Tears you didn’t even realize were there slid past the blindfold and down your cheeks, making their way down your throat. A rough hand grazed over your now bare shoulder, tracking down your chest.

“Now, now, don’t cry, Miss (Y/N). Though, I can see why Agent Hotchner liked you so much…” His low voice whispered in your ear. You physically recoiled away from him as much as possible with your restraints. He grunted in a dissatisfied tone, his hand suddenly clasping around your throat, and you could feel his body heat in your space, his hot breath on your face. “Don’t ever squirm away from me, bitch.” He shoved you from his grasp. A sharp, stinging pain radiated on your cheek as he slapped you.

“Let’s try this again.”, he muttered, hitting what sounded like a button or switch. A song you couldn’t place filled the room. It was the type of music you might associate with Frank Sinatra, a smooth and easy jazz sound to it. But you could tell it was meant to be some kind of love song, a song that you might’ve put on to warm up before having…

The realization hit you like a dozen freight trains. “Let me go, please, I won’t tell anyone.”, you pleaded, your voice raspy. Your throat felt raw like you hadn’t had anything to drink for days. Maybe you hadn’t.

“But then, how would anyone know about me? How would they know we had fun together, hm, princess?” More tears slid down your cheeks as his fingers pulled your other shoulder straps down, his other hand sliding up your dress. He roughly massaged your breast, leaving slimy kisses down your neck. The tears came rushing now, but not a sound slipped from your lips. On the inside, you were screaming. But you tried not to show weakness to him, afraid of the repercussions.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N)...”, he groaned. Suddenly, you heard what sounded like a pocket knife being opened. The cold metal slid up your dress, catching on the seam and ripping it open. A cold breeze hit your chest and stomach as he ripped the dress open all the way, your entire front exposed now. A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden temperature change, and he chuckled at you.

His sweaty finger prodded a bruise on your breast. “Is this from him?”, he whispered with a tone you could only describe as hateful and jealous. “Don’t worry,”, you could feel his breath on your chest, the knife making a return and barely slicing the skin on your stomach, “I’ll give you some new ones.”

You whimpered as he sliced the skin in between your breasts; it didn’t feel like a deep cut, but it sure as fuck hurt. The feeling of your warm blood trickled down your stomach. The new cut was pulsing, blood rushing to it in an attempt to repair the skin. His lips trailed sticky and slimy kisses up your thigh, his clammy hands playing with the hem of your underwear, starting to tug them down.

At that moment, you’d wished he’d just killed you already.

The sudden sound of a door being kicked to the ground made you jump, and you felt the man tense up, too. “FBI, drop the knife, now!”, a voice sounded out behind you that you didn’t recognize at first, but then you realized who it was. It was Aaron. The man in front of you didn’t seem to move. You were elated to hear Aaron’s voice again; you thought you never would.

“Or what, what’re you going to do, Agent Hotchner?” The man taunted; you could hear a sly smile in his voice.

“I will shoot you fucking dead, now drop the knife.” His voice boomed again. Your captor chuckled, the sound of a knife clattering to the ground. A gunshot rang out and you jumped again, the thud of the man in front of you falling and hitting the ground.

The sound of rushing footsteps that you knew belonged to Aaron grew closer. A thick coat draped over your body, the smell of Aaron’s cologne wafted all around you. You already felt better. He cradled your face in his hands. “(Y/N), oh my god, I’m so sorry.”, he muttered. Someone else was working at the cuffs on your wrists and your ankles. A waterfall of tears fell from your eyes as you fell forward into Aaron’s arms, freed from your restraints. You sobbed into his shoulder, and he took you into his arms, gently rubbing your back and hushing you in a comforting way.

You knew a dead man was lying in front of you, and suddenly, you were thankful for the blindfold. Aaron’s fingers started working at the knot that held it to your face, but you placed your hand on top of his, and his fingers quit moving. “I don’t want to see this, Aaron.”, you whispered into his ear, your voice breaking. You felt his head nod on your shoulder.

“Okay. Let’s get you out of here.”

Under the cover of Aaron’s jacket, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you bridal style out into the cold, night air. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you took in his warmth and smell; he was your happy place. You could dimly tell from behind the blindfold the lights from their SUVs were flashing. He gently let you down onto the ground, standing with his body in front of yours. You assumed he was giving you cover from everyone else as he zipped you up in his huge jacket. His fingers made quick work of the blindfold, and it fell to the pavement.

“He fucking hurt you…”, you heard him mutter under his breath, your blood on his hands and his shirt. His hand caressed your face, his eyes softening as they took you in. Knowing Aaron, he’d blame himself for not only the actual blood on his hands but in the metaphorical sense as well.

For the first time, you noticed the lights from the police cars. They nearly blinded you, the change from darkness to such brightness knocking you back. A paramedic approached the two of you, asking you to come with them to the hospital. Hotch waved them off for now, and you looked at Aaron, tears pushing against your eyes. He took your hands, rubbing his thumbs on your skin.

“I’m not leaving you, (Y/N).” His tone was serious and most of all, reassuring. You peeked around him to see some familiar faces and some not, looking over at the two of you. They looked concerned and intrigued at the same time.

“What about your team?”, you asked quietly. He turned to them, then back to you.

“Wait at the ambulance. Tell them not to leave without me. I’ll be right back.” He suddenly pulled you against him, careful of your wounds, and wrapped his arms around you. You pretended, even if for only a moment, that nothing was wrong. That it was only the two of you, and you hadn’t just been kidnapped and nearly raped by some man who had likely done this to other women. You felt Aaron’s lips place a long and soft kiss on your hair, and he pulled away, dark chocolate eyes searching your face. You gave him a weak smile and he returned one, kissing your forehead. You got the feeling he didn’t want to leave.

Treading over to the ambulance, a paramedic immediately helped you up into the back and laid you down on the bed. He asked if you had any injuries, and you said you did, telling him where. He reassured you he’d take a look on the way to the hospital, and reached over to shut the doors.

“Wait-“, you said, causing him to pause. He turned and looked at you, waiting for whatever you had to say. “We have to wait on my…” You were at a loss for words. The man raised an eyebrow at you, and you didn’t feel the need to elaborate because you saw Aaron rushing over. The paramedic immediately realized, letting him in and telling his partner they were ready to go.

Aaron sat at your head, resting a hand on your cheek. “I’m right here.”, he whispered, gently stroking your skin. The EMT said he needed to take a look at your wounds, and reluctantly, you agreed. Aaron could tell you were tense, and he placed a kiss on your forehead, reassuring you without words.

The EMT unzipped Aaron’s jacket and furrowed his brows at the sight of your cut like he was trying to decide what to do with it. You felt exposed again, and you wished once more he’d have just killed you to save you this embarrassment. He turned and grabbed something in a bottle that you assumed was some type of disinfectant, then glanced up at you. “This’ll probably hurt, I’m sorry.”, he muttered, giving you time to prepare. You reached your right hand towards Aaron, grasping in the air for his hand. He took it without hesitation, squeezing it softly, stroking his thumb over the skin of your hand.

The paramedic started slowly flushing your wound, and it fucking burned. You clenched your jaw so tight you were afraid you might break your teeth. The pain was so blinding you were afraid you’d pass out, and you started feeling a bit lightheaded, the pain searing through you. You hated how hard you were probably squeezing Aaron’s hand, but surely he wouldn’t mind. You heard the paramedic mutter an apology under his breath as he dabbed the wound with gauze, and you exhaled sharply, the wound no longer bubbling with a stream of disinfectant. Aaron stroked his thumb over your hand comfortingly.

“We’re going to give you some pain medication, it may make you drowsy, is that okay?” You weren’t sure who exactly he was asking, you or Aaron, but you nodded with all the strength you had. At some point, he’d hooked up an IV to your left arm, and you watched him inject medication into the port in your arm. Almost immediately, it was a battle to keep your eyes open.

“Get some sleep, honey. I’ll be here when you wake up. I love you, (Y/N).”, Aaron whispered in your ear, placing a soft, tender kiss on your temple. That was the last thing you heard before slipping into a deep sleep, the feeling of the road underneath the tires lulling you to sleep.

You woke up with a start from a nightmare, but its details faded as quickly as they came. You’d hoped the whole abduction thing had been just an awful dream, but alas, the smell of a sterile hospital hit your nose. The beeping sound next to you was ringing in your ears; the sound of the beeps seemed to quicken in their pace. Suddenly, a warm hand grasped your arm, gently stroking it. They shushed you in a low voice, trying to calm you down.

Your body was in pain. You’d never felt pain like this before; it was like every single muscle in your body had been strained or pulled the wrong way. You just felt sore, weak. Even a little dead. You still weren’t sure that you hadn’t passed on, and this was some bizarro version of your afterlife.

As much energy as it took to open your eyes, you did it anyway, curious to see who sat at your bedside. Even though you were pretty sure you knew who it was anyway. A certain supervisory special agent and unit chief came to mind. You turned your head, blinking against the bright fluorescent lights above you to see the soft and concerned features of Aaron Hotchner’s face.

“(Y/N)... I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am for what happened to you, this would’ve never happened if you’d have never met me, and-“, he started rambling, but you lifted a weak finger to his lips to stop his word vomit.

“Aaron. Don’t apologize. I’m glad I met you and that’s never going to change.”, you whispered, too weak to use the full extent of your voice. He just gave you a sad smile in response, lifting your wrist that’d recently fallen from the air to his lips. Cautiously though, like he’d break you if he moved too fast. He shut his eyes as he placed a long kiss on your skin, trailing quick kisses up your arm. A weak smile fell on your lips, and you exhaled, sighing with content. Aaron’s eyes fluttered open, scanning over your face, a huge smile on his.

“I missed that smile.”, he whispered, leaning into your space. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, and you kissed him back as strongly as you could, which wasn’t saying much. You could tell he wanted to be more passionate, but he was holding back for your sake. You wish it didn’t have to be this way. Suddenly, you heard his phone buzzing in his pocket. You frowned as he pulled away to answer it. His eyes widened a bit as he looked at the screen. You knew what that look meant, and your heart dropped a little at the realization.

It was Haley, Aaron’s soon to be ex-wife. She’d left him months ago, right when you’d first met him. That was one of the reasons they’d taken him out that night; the boys wanted to give him a well deserved night off. They would’ve been officially divorced by now, but Aaron works so often and Haley still hasn’t delivered him the papers, so everything was at a standstill.

Not only was she tired of him never being home, she decided to use you as an excuse, too. Even though she’d left him before the night you two met. So you weren’t particularly fond of her. Aaron, on the other hand, was in between a rock and a hard place. The woman he used to love but was still the mother to his son and the woman he loved now but he’d gone against their original agreement. He didn’t want there to be any tension, but with the situation, that was near impossible. You felt at fault, even though you hadn’t technically done anything wrong.

He sighed defeatedly as he took the call, a look on his face that could only be described as a mixture of anger and exhaustion crossing over his skin. He stepped out into the hallway, leaving you to take everything in. You looked around the room for the first time, in-depth. Bouquets were sat on the countertop in the corner of the room, but you couldn’t quite make out who they were from. A bag of bloody clothes sat in the chair that Aaron hadn’t been occupying. You cringed, the memories flooding back. You’d be burning those clothes.

You heard a sudden, faint buzzing from beside you. You slowly turned your head to the sound, realizing it to be your phone on the nightstand. It was a number you hadn’t saved in your contacts, but you reached for it to answer it anyway. Sliding the button over to take the call, you cleared your throat, holding your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”, you answered softly, your voice still weak from not having been used.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?”, a kind-sounding female voice inquired.

You furrowed your brows. It wasn’t often you got a call like this. It slipped your mind what it could be for.

“This is she.”, you replied. Aaron was still on the phone in the hall, but he heard you speaking and poked his head in, a confused look on his face. You imagined your face looked about the same.

“You recently applied for the liaison and/or special agent internship at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, is that correct?”

‘Recently’ was a strong word. You’d applied before you met Aaron, before you knew he worked there. It was nearly at the beginning of your senior year; you’d forgotten about it, honestly. You didn’t think they were going to call you back. You sat up straighter in bed, clearing your throat again.

“Y-yes, yes I did.” Aaron quickly muttered what you assumed was a ‘goodbye’ to Haley, walking back in the room and sitting next to you again. He silently asked you what the call was about, and you frantically shushed him, waving your hand in his face. He playfully rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his lips. He grabbed your hand from the air and held it in his lap, stroking his thumb over your fingers.

“Well, I’m delighted to tell you that I’ve selected you as my apprentice. Congratulations! I’ll email you more details at the address you’d previously provided me with, but I just wanted to call you personally and deliver the good news. I look forward to working with you, Miss (Y/L/N).”

You were speechless. A smile so indicative of happiness that it bared all your teeth fell on your face, and you just wanted to scream. “T-thank you so much! I look forward to it too!” She said a quick goodbye, and you returned it.

Aaron chuckled at your excitement. “What’s the good news?”, he asked you, placing a soft kiss on your knuckle. You tossed your phone onto your bed, moving to hug Aaron so fast you almost ripped out your IV. He recoiled with surprise, but quickly embraced you, laughing at you. You pulled back, planting a kiss on his lips, and then another, and another. He chuckled deeply in between kisses, returning the gesture.

His phone was buzzing again, interrupting your celebration. Why did it always have to happen when you were kissing? You pouted as he picked it up, a confused look on his face. You could hear the voice on the other end:

“Hey Hotch, I know you said not to call you today but I finally took care of the apprenticeship and I just wanted to let you know.”

His eyes grew wide.

“Uh, that’s um, that’s great JJ. Send me the information about the applicant you picked. I’ll call you later about it.” You smiled at him with a shit-eating grin.

“Sure thing, boss. Talk to you later.”

He hung up the phone, lightly tossing it onto the nightstand next to him.

“I already have the applicant’s information, don’t I?”, he asked you, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Probably more than is appropriate for a place of work.”

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