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nostalgicnarrator · 3 months

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Over Hill and Under Mountain

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Word Count: 1,555

Parings: Thorn X Bilbo

Description:

Thorin leaves Erebor to visit his dear friend Bilbo, will new feeling shine through? What will happen?

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

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Note:

Listen to me I’ve never done anything like this before, I have written and sure I have posted one of two things and immediately abandoned them. If you want to give me constructive criticism or feedback please do I wanna get better at this kind of thing.

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Thorin had sent a letter to Bilbo not too long ago by raven, telling him of his departure from his kingdom and hopefully swift arrival. It had been a year since he had last seen his hobbit.

Thorin had found himself missing his hobbit. Even with the regular letters between them, now It had only been a week since he had gotten the last letter and Thorin had begun to feel a sort of ache in his chest the longer he went without contact from Bilbo.

Now the King Under the Mountain found himself hundreds of miles away from his Lonely Mountain, the one he had left in questionably capable hands, right back were it all began a year ago now, and getting himself lost once again on the roads and in the Shire. passing farms and burrows, even at one point finding himself on the road to brea. He had turned red when he realized, though he wont tell you that, and turned back hoping to find the burrow of his hobbit.

Thorin grumbled as he thought to himself and took another turn down a path he swears he’s seen hundred times before. ‘Now if I can just- have I already been here before?’ Thorin thought, sighing. ‘Mahal, am I even in the right place?’

When Thorin passed a deceptively familiar-looking farm, one he had to have passed twice now, he sighed and swung his pack off his shoulders to fish for a map. Maybe it can help him figure out where he was.

That’s when he heard a very familiar voice. “Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, as lost as a chicken with no head.” The voice was full of a teasing tone as it spoke.

Thorin whipped around and looked at the familiar small hobbit, his caramel-colored curls wild on his head, suggesting that he hadn’t done much more than wake up and throw clothes on. The hobbit seemed to be wrapped and almost gilded in gold in the light of the early sun, the old dwarf couldn’t fight himself from blushing at the hobbit.

His undershirt was a buttery yellow, a little warn but clearly loved, and his pants an emerald green that could put any gemstone that the king had seen to shame. The bottom of his pants were embroidered with flowers and other things hobbits seemed so enchanted by. The hobbit had no waistcoat, so his suspenders were visible. He stood not a few paces behind where Thorin stood. Thorin only just began to notice how long he had been staring at his hobbit.

Bilbo was smiling broadly, chuckling fondly at the sight of the bewildered and red faced king. Thorin didn’t wait long to rush forward and embrace his friend in a hug, which the hobbit gladly returned it with just as much enthusiasm. Thorin patted Bilbo’s shoulder affectionately and looked down at him when he pulled away from the hug.

Thorin smiled as he spoke. “Bilbo Baggins, and here I thought I’d have to stumble around here for a day until I found you.”

Bilbo laughed and grasped at the dwarf’s arms as he leaned a little closer before teasing. “Now what kind of hobbit would I be if I let one of my guests stumble his way around here like a newborn fawn?” Bilbo said as he moved to hook Thorin by the arm to lead him up a path toward his burrow. “Let’s get you inside and I’ll find you something to eat! I’m sure you are starving.”

And that’s where Thorin found himself, sitting in an uncomfortably comfortable armchair in the living room of Bilbo’s burrow. He watched the small hobbit as he made tea, to quote, ‘hold him over’ till Bilbo was done cooking.

The warmth that wafted from the kitchen seemed to almost lull the king to sleep. The next time his eyes opened, Bilbo was handing him a warm mug of tea that smelled and tasted sweetly of elderberry and mint And a cloth that held a sweet blackberry tart.

Bilbo headed back to the kitchen to continue his task of making breakfast for the two of them. Thorin stood to follow after him, leaning against the door frame as Bilbo mixed something together in a bowl. He found himself observing the hobbit’s every movement, from the way his curls bounced as he worked to the concentration furrowing his brow.

‘He really is quite charming,’ Thorin mused, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. ‘The way he moves about his kitchen, so at ease, so… endearing. Why didn’t I see it before?’

Bilbo grinned at Thorin when he pulled himself a chair over. After a brief silence, Bilbo asked, “How are the renovations of your kingdom going?”

Thorin sighed, closing his eyes as thoughts of Erebor’s restoration filled his mind. They had found that the old techniques of his forefathers had been forgotten or abandoned for more useful skills during the time they had lost their home. But Thorin couldn’t help the pride that swelled within him at the thoughts of his people and how he and his Company had reclaimed his home. And how he feels that his hobbit was to thank for that.

Thorin let his voice sound as tired as he felt, as he spoke, “They are progressing well, but it seems many of the secrets of my people have seemingly been forgotten over the years.” He looked at the mug he held, now half full and tart long gone. He rolled the mug in his hands, it being a tad bit smaller than any other mug he was used to. It had flowers and soft things painted underneath its glaze.

“Still,” Thorin hummed and looked to Bilbo now. ‘Have his eyes always been so sweet?’ “It will be grand and restored to the best of our ability.”

Bilbo hummed and went back to cooking. He scrambled eggs in a hot pan. “Well, I wait patiently to see. You better keep me updated properly this time.” Bilbo said with a bit of a teasing tone and smile. Then he stopped what he was doing, looked at Thorin again as he set a plate down on the counter, and started plating food.

“I dare ask, you are staying a few days, are you not?” Bilbo asked. Thorin felt his breath catch in his throat. He had to think a little harder than he was used to, to speak.

“Yes,” Thorin nodded as he spoke. He found himself once again thinking of Bilbo, the way his eyes sparkled with curiosity and care. ‘Why does my heart quicken every time he looks at me?’ Thorin wondered, a bit confused by his own feelings.

“Then, who is running the kingdom in your absence?” Bilbo inquired.

“Fíli,” Thorin replied with a fond smile. “He is capable and eager to prove himself. And I am not one to disappoint.”

Bilbo nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “Ah, well, I am sure he is quite excited, and I am sure Lady Dís is not pleased at your sudden absence not too long after you have taken back your mountain.” Bilbo teased lightly as his eyes shined with mischief.

Thorin found himself chuckling and nodding softly. “No, she is not, but it will be a good experience for the lad to practice how it truly is to run a kingdom.”

“I see…” Bilbo hummed and pulled a loaf from the oven, setting it at the table to cool.

“How has the Shire been?” Thorin found himself asking as he helped Bilbo’s food find its way to the dining room table.

Bilbo’s face lit up happily as he smiled “Oh! Well, the Shire has been peaceful, as always. You know how things can be here, quiet!” He started digging through the cabinets for more plates. “And! I’m sure you saw on your way here but the fields are green with new crops, the harvest looks promising.” He said.

As Bilbo went to grab his cutlery as he spoke he gasped and looked to Thorin before almost yelling. “Oh! Do you remember what I told you happened a week ago well! It had happened again!!Lobelia Sackville-Baggins has tried to make off with my good silver again!”

Thorin watched Bilbo with growing affection and amusement as he animatedly recounted the events of the Shire. ‘He gets so heated over these things,’ Thorin thought, finding it endearing. ‘How could someone be so fiercely protective and yet so gentle?’

They continued to talk as Bilbo and Thorin prepared and set up breakfast. The aroma of freshly baked bread and bacon filled the air. As they sat down to eat, Thorin felt a deep contentment.

As Bilbo went on about the Shire and what had been happening since his last letter to the king only a week ago, Thorin thought to himself, ‘This visit with Bilbo,’ he mused as Bilbo went on about how some children had trampled over his marigolds, ‘will be as lovely as I imagined.’

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There it is, please don’t get to mad at me if I have made a mistake or messed something up. Okay, please leave feedback! Let me know what I can do better next time!

#the hobbit thorin #the hobbit bilbo #the hobbit #thorin x bilbo #bagginshield #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #thorin company #fanfic #one shot #writing #lord of the rings #but not really #i’m losing my mind #gay #fluff #cross posted on ao3 #cute #Over Hill and Under Mountain

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trickstarbrave · 7 months

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wip whenever

HIIIII i got tagged by @saltymaplesyrup (idk why it will not let me at you) and @your-talos-is-problematic

and i taggggggg uhhhhhhhh @thescrolls-haveforetold @caliblorn @orfeoarte and ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO DO IT :))))

i have been playing video games instead of drawing or writing the past few days so not much progress on the wips as of late. i do have a small section of moon and star (again. wildly out of order. hopefully it wont take me months to update again but you know how it is

Nerevar’s eyes snapped open. His hands frantically touched at his chest, once again checking for the wound, only to find nothing. Still, the unmistakable ache was there, however faint.

“Where…?” He found himself someplace… Bizarre. There was stone architecture, that much he knew, but it seemed… Foreign, though they were in a state of disarray. It looked like some kind of abandoned tower, the roof having long since caved in, vines growing over stone. In the middle, where Nerevar was laying was soft grass and a few wildflowers. He sat up, looking around even further, confused.

“Damn Trinimac, causing problems again…” Someone behind him muttered, and Nerevar quickly turned to see--

Himself?

He jumped, panicked. No, no he could tell it wasn’t himself. He looked a lot like Nerevar, and sounded a lot like Nerevar, but there was something off about his appearance. He was taller than Nerevar--around Voryn’s height maybe? His hair was much longer too, not to mention he was wearing long robes Nerevar would never wear given how complicated and annoying they looked. Not to mention the longer he looked at him the more his appearance seemed to change--subtle ripples you had to focus on to know. His eyes subtly changed shape, along with his other features, sort of at random in moments where if you blinked you’d miss them.

“Apologies for that.” The man said, walking over and plopping down to sit next to Nerevar. “I never expected his followers to summon him, nor that he’d do something like that…”

“Who are you?” Nerevar asked, his heart still racing in his chest. The other simply plopped his chin in his hand, staring back at Nerevar, amused.

“You and your lover--both just asking questions instead of even trying to figure it out for yourselves…” He tsk-tsked with a soft click of his tongue and a shake of his head.

“How the hell am I supposed to know who you are?” Nerevar snapped. “I don’t even know where I am!”

“Easy, no need to raise your voice.” He still looked amused, despite Nerevar’s anger.

“Why in Oblivion do you look like me?” Nerevar demanded an answer now; he was in no mood to play games at the moment. He felt his heart being ripped out by that damn orc god and now he had someone playing mind games with him.

The other sighed.

“I am Lorkhan.” Nerevar’s blood ran cold.

“What…?” Nerevar stared in confusion and shock. “But Lorkhan is--”

“Dead?” He asked with a smirk and a quirk of his brow. “Don’t I know it.” Lorkhan then laughed heartily. “But when did that stop the dead from interfering with the living from time to time?”

“Why are you here?” Nerevar asked, leaning away from him.

“I thought it would be only fair to show myself to you after that stunt Trinimac pulled.” He explained. “Though I imagine the fact you were stabbed through the chest once before only made it that much harder for you.”

Nerevar was trying to figure out the situation he was in, putting the pieces together the best he could. Several daedra called him Lorkhan, and here was Lorkhan looking remarkably similar to Nerevar. Was it possible people were mixing them up based on appearance? That didn’t seem quite right; it would make sense for Malacath and potentially Dagon, but Dagon didn’t call him Lorkhan initially, and not to mention it wouldn’t explain the nords. He doubted the elf hating people of Skyrim would so readily accept an elven appearance for their chief deity. Nor did it explain the strange, supernatural beating of his heart that drove him to accomplish strange feats out of sheer willpower alone.

“... Why do you look like me?” Nerevar repeated his question again.

“Come now, I thought you’d be smart enough to figure that out.” Lorkhan laughed again.

“Answer me.” “Well,” Lorkhan’s grin looked mischievous now. “It’s only fitting I look like you because I am you, don’t you think?”

#shezzarine nerevar my beloved #nerevar #indoril nerevar #wip #moon and star spoilers #lorkhan

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harringtonswriting · 2 years

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buried hopes | s.h.

summary: it's book swap day, which means you and steve are going to trade books to annotate for each other, and you're going to fall even more for the guy who's just your friend when you read another book that he loves. but you're just friends, and while that's something you've resigned yourself too, it seems like steve is going to use your book to his advantage... pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader warning(s): spoilers for pride & prejudice by jane austen and anne of green gables by l.m. montgomery word count: 5.9k notes: hi hiii!! i'm so, so sorry for the time it took to get this out, but i am very excited for this, and hopefully i can get on a more regular posting schedule soon! i made an entire friends-to-lovers playlist for stevie here that i listened to on loop while writing this. this fic is dedicated to the lovely emma, who deserves the world!

...

It’s the first Friday of the month, which means it’s Book Swap day. And you always love Book Swap day.

It’s something you and Steve started doing together not long after you’d graduated high school the previous year; you’d accidentally left your copy of Interview With the Vampire in Scoop’s Ahoy when you’d gone in one day, and when you’d come back the next day to see if anyone had returned it, you saw Steve sitting in a corner booth, feet propped up on the table and the spine bent in his hands as he flipped through the pages.

He’d looked up as you came in, making a beeline straight for him and your book, and he’d smiled that smile you’d heard about from all the girls at school before telling you that your choice in books was weird and how could anyone like this Lestat dude, anyway? You’d sat down across from him, and the of you spent close to an hour going back and forth about it until Robin Buckley had started yelling at Steve for slacking off and how he could flirt on his own time, thank you very much, since these little monster children need to be fed their daily sugar intake (Though Steve vehemently denied that he was flirting, and you had really hoped that it hadn’t looked like you had been flirting, because Steve Harrington? Not your type. At the time).

That was nearly a year ago, now, and the beginning of a friendship you’d come to cherish very much. Every other month without fail you and Steve had brought each other a book, ones you either liked yourselves or thought the other would like, to swap and annotate for each other, and then you’d each read the annotated copies when you’d finished. While Steve wasn’t a huge reader, as you’d come to learn, and it took him longer than he’d like to admit to finish most of the books you two talked about, he always seemed to enjoy the ones you’d given him.

You feel as though you’d gotten to know Steve through the books he’s given you; you’ve known each other, and of each other, for most of your lives as is wont to happen when you live in a town like Hawkins. Everyone knows everyone else and all of their business, so you’ve always been very much aware of who Steve Harrington is and a lot of what he’s done. Or, well, what people think he’s done.

But the image of Steve you’d had in school is more than a little different to the Steve you’ve gotten to know. It’d started out as just swapping books, but it led to grabbing coffee together to talk about those books, and then each other. You’d come visit him at work sometimes, first at Scoop’s Ahoy, and then Family Video when he and Robin switched jobs. Sometimes he’d surprise you at work, with a baked treat or your favourite drink.

Then he introduced you to the kids he babysits—though most of them are old enough to look after themselves—who idolize him in every way, and show it by teasing the hell out of him. You see how Steve is with them, warm and open and not at all the magnanimous dickhead you’d thought he was in school. Well, that you’d heard he was, anyway.

You’re glad he’s nothing like any of those rumours, that he’s your friend Steve—though the word friend has long since started causing a bit of an ache in your chest and a twist in your stomach, because the Steve who pressed The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe into your hands with a pink flush on his face while telling you he loved that book the most as a kid and even now; the Steve who read Jane Eyre and left the most hilarious comments about Mr Rochester in the margins along with some very questionable doodles—well, that Steve has taken over a rather large part of your life and your heart. Much more than that of a friend, but you’ll never admit that. Out loud to him, anyway.

You’d slowly fallen in love with Steve with each piece of his heart he’s shared with you through the books you’ve both read and discussed together. He has your heart completely, though he doesn’t know that—you’re friends, and that friendship is precious to you. You’re not going to risk that, not in case he doesn’t feel the same and you lose him forever. And as far as you know, he doesn’t feel the same way—he was just as friendly with you as he was with Robin, and you know he’d go to any lengths for the people he cares about. You’d love to be able to read more into the way he’ll answer your calls no matter the time, and the way he’s always standing so close to you, the way he hugs you… it’s completely platonic. So, you resigned yourself to friendship, to loving him silently through the books you shared together.

You walk into Family Video today, bag slung over your shoulder as the bell over the door rings. Robin is messing with one of the displays, a stack of tapes near her feet as she waves to you. Steve is at the front counter, and he immediately looks up from the computer. As soon as he sees that it’s you as you approach him, his face splits into a wide grin and he completely abandons his work to lean against the counter.

“If it isn’t my favourite customer,” he says, and you do your best to ignore the way his smile causes your chest to flutter and a smile to stretch across your own face.

“And if it isn’t my favourite video store employee,” you say, “oh, and you too, Steve.” He jaw drops for a second while Robin cackles. You lean forward on the counter as well.

“Why do you have to hurt me like that?” he asks, and you shrug while Robin keeps laughing.

“So… ready for Book Swap day?” you ask. You reach into your bag to grab your book. Steve, showing off his pretty pink lips as he smiles, reaches around to his back pocket, pulling out a small, worn green paperback with a redhead in a straw hat on the cover. Anne of Green Gables, it reads, as he slides the book over to you across the counter. You recognize it, and pick it up in one hand. You place your copy of Pride and Prejudice down in front of you with the other, sliding it in Steve’s direction.

You love that book; you had to read it for eleventh grade English, and it was one of those books that just stuck with you. You’d bought your own copy after you’d been made to return your copy to the school, and it’s held a special place on your bookshelf ever since. You’ve been waiting for the right time to swap it with Steve, and, well, no time like the present, right?

“What’s this?” he asks, picking it up and turning the book over in his hands. He scans the back, and you can see the way he catches his lip with his teeth as he takes in the description on the back before turning it back over to take in the cover illustration. “Pride and Prejudice, huh? Sounds familiar. Did we have to read that in school?”

“I did!” Robin interjects, trying to take the book from Steve’s hands. He holds it up over his head, trying to keep it out of her reach. She jumps twice to get it, before huffing and shoving the stack of VHS tapes she was working on in his direction. He sticks his tongue out at her, and she returns the favour with her middle finger resting on one of her cheeks before she heads off towards the back of the store.

“I’m going on break! Don’t spend all your time flirting, dingus!” she calls, and you see Steve roll his eyes as he sticks your book under the counter. It stings, just a little, but you swallow that down as far as you. You deposit his book into your bag, careful to mind the pages and make sure you don’t cause any damage. You both choose to ignore Robin’s comment.

“Anne of Green Gables? That’s a good choice,” you tell him, patting the outside of your bag. The smile from earlier comes back, though a bit smaller. That’s when the bell above the door chimes, signalling that someone has come into the store, and you turn to see old Mrs Powell making her way towards Steve with a smile on her face and Gone With the Wind clutched in her hand. You smile politely at her before winking at Steve and excusing yourself. Getting caught up with Mrs Powell is an hour you don’t want to spend, so you’re going to leave before you get trapped here, too.

“Call you tonight!” Steve calls, and you raise a hand in acknowledgement as you leave the store.

…

The first thing you notice when you sit down on your bed and open the book is Steve’s blocky handwriting on the cover page, stating ‘This book belongs to Steve Harrington! Hands off!’ and your heart warms at the sight.

You can imagine Steve, curled up in bed with a flashlight under his covers, reading this book to himself. Or, maybe on a rainy Sunday afternoon, hanging off the edge of his bed to read with his arms stretched out in front of him, mouthing the words as he reads them. You’d seen him do that before, both at work and when reading things when you’ve been out together, and you think it’s an endearing trait. Sometimes he’ll even whisper what he’s reading under his breath, which you pretend you don’t hear—you don’t want to give him any reason to stop doing it around you.

With that, you turn the pages and start reading the book.

You have an entire system worked out: one colour for quotes, another one for notes, and even these cute little puffy stickers and sticky tabs to mark the pages. You’ve got everything you need scattered across your bed as you read, so you can reach for anything as you mark up the book. Which you do, quite liberally, as you read about Anne Shirley and how she comes to live in Avonlea.

The further you get in the book, the more you can see why Steve loves it. The pure, childlike innocence and joy, the saccharine sweetness of the trials and tribulations that Anne faces at home and at school and in the community at large. Anne is so passionate and so full of drive and joy, and the way she sees the world, so bright and romantic and full of adventure, and she doesn’t lose that as she grows and matures; you can see how Steve would be drawn to that, drawn to this story, and it makes your heart ache in a wonderfully bittersweet way for him, knowing what he’s been through with his family, with love, with the people he’d called friends before the kids and Robin—and you—had come into his life.

You also completely understand where Gilbert Blythe is coming from, loving someone like Anne Shirley. Though he’s a little more obvious with it than you hope you are. You understand what it’s like to love someone like Anne, someone who wears their heart on their sleeve, who hates so much about themselves but still manages to see the beauty in the world and in others, and holding this book in your hands, this small, worn, dogeared and well-loved paperback, you feel as though you’re holding a piece of Steve’s heart that few others have gotten to see. He’s trusted you with this, and you only hope you can keep that piece of him with you in any way you can, for as long as you can.

You take your time annotating the book—you want to make sure you give it the attention it deserves, and to let Steve know exactly what you think. It takes you a few days to finish, but you’re happy with the end result.

You even make sure to place a little gold star sticker next to your favourite quote: "Well, that is another hope gone. ‘My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.’ That's a sentence I read in a book once, and I say it over to comfort myself whenever I'm disappointed in anything."

You flip back to the cover page, where Steve’s name is still written proclaiming ownership of the book. Before you can think better of it and chicken out, you scrawl, ‘Lovingly annotated by’ under where Steve has signed his name, and write your own name in your favourite colour of pen. You also add a small heart next to it before you shut the book.

…

You call Steve the next morning, letting him know you’ve finished Anne of Green Gables; he’s still only halfway through Pride and Prejudice, so you wait another week, as patiently as you can, until he calls you and tells you he’s finished, too. Though he calls you at nearly ten at night when you’re already in your pyjamas, so you agree to swap back the next day.

So that leads you to bring Anne of Green Gables with you to Family Video just after noon; it’s just Steve today, no Robin in sight as you push the door open and he greets you from behind the counter. The store looks pretty empty as well. Steve is playing with a slinky on the counter, having stacked video tapes up like stairs to push it down.

“Keith’s in the office pretending to do paperwork,” he tells you by way of greeting, pushing the silver metal with a long finger. That doesn’t surprise you, from what you know about Keith. You’re glad the cheesy-fingered guy isn’t out here right now. You take Anne of Green Gables out of your bag and place it next to the VHS stairs, and Steve reaches under the counter to grab Pride and Prejudice and put it on the counter.

“So… what did you think?” you ask, and Steve shakes his head. His hair flops down onto his forehead, which is a little unusual for him, but the sight makes your stomach tingle at how cute it is and how well it suits him before he’s pushing it back into place.

“Nope, you gotta read it! I’m not spoiling anything.” It’s something the two of you do every time when you swap your books back, and it’s worth it to hear him laugh. Though his laugh today was just a little more hollow than usual, and his shoulders are up near his ears. There’s tension in his body that isn’t normally there, not around you. “Just… read it all the way through before we talk about it, okay? And really think about it. Take all the time you need.”

“Okay… did you hate it? Is that what’s going on?” You scan his face, trying to pick out any details that might show that he didn’t like your choice. Which you wouldn’t be mad about—not everyone loves every book, even the classics, but you really hope you didn’t make him feel like he was forced to read something he completely hated.

“What? No!” Steve is very quick to insist that, and you fix him with a stare. He sighs, bringing a hand up to run through his messy brown hair once again, before he starts fiddling with the slinky. “I mean, no, I didn’t hate it. I just… had a lot more to say than I thought.” He pauses for a moment. “Actually, you know what,” he reaches for the book in front of him, fidgeting slightly where he’s standing, “I think I need to edit my notes, lemme see that.”

“Nope!” You quickly snatch the book up off the counter before he can grab it, holding it tight against your chest and moving away from the counter. “No take backs!” He makes a half-hearted attempt to take it from you, his warm, calloused fingertips scraping over the skin of your hand, before you’re dropping the book into your bag.

“Don’t hate me for what I said. Promise?” You can’t imagine ever hating Steve Harrington. You don’t think it’s possible, looking into his deep brown eyes that somehow still twinkle under the fluorescent lights. You don’t even hate the horrid green polyester vest he’s wearing; somehow, Steve always manages to look good, even in terrible lighting in a polo that clashes with his vest, even with a crease between his eyebrows and his soft pink lips turned down slightly, and it sends adoration thrumming through your body and down your spine.

“Steve, I could never hate you, I promise,” you say. Not when I love you as much as I do. The words dance on the tip of your tongue as his eyes search your face for any hint of a lie. He must find none, because he grabs his book and shoves it into his back pocket. He almost looks as if he’s about to say something else, his mouth opening slightly—

—and then the bell above the door rings, signalling customers have arrived, and you call out your goodbyes before you turn around and hightail it out of the store.

…

You want to crack open your book as soon as you get home, and you put the book on your bed so you can do so, but then you notice that your closet needs to be straightened out, and then there’s some laundry that needs doing, and oh, just how many cups have you let pile up in your room? So you take those into the kitchen and then get busy doing the dishes and before you know it, it’s already dark out and you still haven’t started reading.

But you can’t put it off any longer, so you finally curl up in your bed to crack open your book.

Steve doesn’t disappoint; he usually always has a lot to say in the margins of the books he annotates for you, and that remains true with Pride and Prejudice. You can’t help but grin to yourself as you read through what he has to say.

‘Wait… so she got herself sick JUST so Bingley could take care of her? Wow, that still worked even back then. Jane is playing to win. Gotta remember that.’ He’s even drawn a little winky face next to this comment.

Almost as soon as Mr Wickham is introduced, Steve is commenting on him. ‘Man, this Wickham guy is suspicious… I don’t like him.’ Steve is perceptive (in most aspects, at least in things not relating to the heart), and it makes you happy that he caught on that early that Wickham is trouble.

‘Charlotte deserves better. First Mr Collins proposes to her best friend and then he settles for her? I don’t like him.’ That is definitely something you agree with. You continue reading through, scanning the text and paying attention to Steve’s comments, making note of any questions he asks. That is, until you get to the point where Mr Darcy first confesses to Elizabeth.

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

The quote is underlined in red pen, quite heavy handed, but there’s no notes next to it in the margins. Which is odd for Steve; normally he’s got a lot to say, and he’ll usually take notes or write any questions he has for you so you can answer them when you meet up after having finished reviewing your annotated books. You’re a little caught off guard, but you continue reading.

A little further along in the book, you can see the amount of exclamation points increase as Steve is proven right not only by Mr Darcy’s letter, but also with what happens with the elopement. ‘The scandal! The outrage! How could Lydia have run away with Wickham? Dude’s a real jag off. I totally called it, go back and check!!’

And it goes back to normal from there. There are even some doodles of Mr Darcy slapping Wickham in the margins whenever Wickham is mentioned after that, which are definitely something you’d frame if you could. What Steve lacks in artistic talent he makes up for in enthusiasm.

But then it happens again. The red pen comes back twice near the very end of the book, when Mr Darcy and Elizabeth are discussing their feelings for one another both before and after getting engaged. Two quotes from Mr Darcy are once again underlined, several times, with no other comments.

“My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.”

And then,

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

Your heart starts beating a little faster in your chest as you read and re-read the words. Maybe he just loves those quotes. Maybe he’s going to steal them to say to the girls he asks out; the thought isn’t something you’d like to think about, but it’s entirely possible. They’re also the last parts that have been annotated, at least until the very end of the book.

“That was better than I thought it’d be, but don’t tell Robin,” Steve’s handwriting is scrawled underneath the final paragraph of the book. It’s written in red pen, the same shade as the quotes he’d underlined with no notes. “She’ll never let me live it down. But thank you for sharing this with me. I can see why you love it. And, well… hopefully now you can see how I feel about you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you read and re-read the words ‘hopefully now you can see how I feel about you’ because… are you imagining things? You and Steve are just friends, no matter how you might feel… but he wrote this note in that same red pen. You’re imagining things. You have to be. You flip back to the quotes that stuck out to you, the ones with no notes next to them, and then back to Steve’s note. And it feels like something clicks.

Oh.

You drop the book in your hands. You look over at your nightstand, seeing your alarm clock and that it’s currently just past midnight. You grab the phone that sits on your nightstand, picking it up and dialling Steve’s number before bringing the receiver up to your ear. You don’t know if Steve’s parents are home and if you could be waking them up. But you have to know.

It takes an almost agonizing three rings before someone on the other end picks up, and you’re really hoping it’s not Mr Harrington because that’s not a conversation you really want to have right now.

“Hello?” Thankfully it’s Steve who answers, his voice a little raspy, and it crosses your mind briefly that he might have been sleeping. That’s something you’ll worry about later, though, because you need to know.

“Is it true?” you ask, and there’s silence on the line for a few seconds. Steve doesn’t ask what you’re talking about.

“You finally finished it, huh? You’re slower at reading than me, and that’s saying something,” he says, and while you can tell he’s trying to keep his tone light, the words come out strained, almost forced. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for something to drop, for you to say some magic words you haven’t quite worked out in your mind. But all you can think of is what he wrote in the book sitting in front of you, and how it’s causing a bubble to grow in your chest, filling you with hope and fear and just a bit of dread, while your heart hammers into it from the other side, wanting to hit your ribs with how hard it’s beating.

“Steve.” Your tone silences any other comments he might have had, and you can feel the bubble threatening to burst in your chest, to bring you up or knock you down. You have to know. You have to ask. “Is it true?”

It’s silent for a beat. Then another. Then another. And then you hear Steve take a breath. “Will you hate me if I say yes?”

Your heart stutters in your chest and the bubble is getting bigger and tighter as hope replaces the fear, but maybe you’ll worry about any medical problems you might be developing later because that’s dangerously close to a confession.

“Only if you don’t tell me to my face.” You’re mostly joking when you say that, but you hear the jingling of keys on the other end, and the loud thump of his footsteps as he moves into the hardwood hallway from the carpet in his room.

“Wait for me?” he asks, though there’s more than just those three words hanging between you. There’s so much that you want to say. That you’ve been waiting for an achingly long time, that you would wait forever and a day if it meant being with him. That he’s always going to be worth waiting for. You’ll tell him that when he’s sitting in front of you.

“Trellis on the left side is still broken,” you warn, and you hear his laugh. It eases the pressure in your chest, even if just a little.

“Be there soon,” he promises, and you believe him. You say your goodbyes, hanging up the phone. You sit for a second, taking in the sight of your room, before deciding that Steve has been in your room many times, you still need to straighten up a bit. You need to do something that you can focus on until he gets here.

You’re not completely convinced this isn’t just an extremely vivid dream, even when you trip and stumble forward getting off the bed. It feels like a dream, like one you never want to wake up from, thinking that Steve could return your feelings. That he could be in love with you, too, and that this could work.

True to his word, you can hear Steve’s car pulling up on the driveway in record time, tires crunching and headlights flashing momentarily through the curtains you hadn’t closed yet. You have just enough time to smooth out the blankets on your bed before there’s a tapping at your window. You move over to unlock and open it, sliding it up and seeing Steve sitting on the other side.

“Hi,” he greets, and you move to the side so he can climb in. He makes it almost all the way in, enough that you think he might actually stick the landing, when one of his shoes gets caught on the window sill and he tumbles face first onto the floor. He’s quick to spring up, though, shaking it off and doing his best to grin at you. You do your best to smile back, though you’re pretty sure it doesn’t look quite right at how quickly Steve’s own smile drops. “I guess, uh… I guess we need to talk, huh?”

“We do,” you confirm. You can understand Steve’s apparent apprehension; this is going to cross a line that you know can never be uncrossed. Once you fall over the precipice, you don’t know how far you’ll fall or where you’ll land, and it’s always something you’ve tried to avoid. But maybe you don’t need to avoid that anymore. Maybe you don’t need to be afraid as Steve extends his hand to gently, hesitantly, take one of yours. It’s not the first time you’ve held hands, but you’re noticing just how calloused his hand is, how it’s just a little clammy and he’s got a few scars that you can brush your thumb over.

He slips his shoes off and leaves them under your window, and the two of you walk towards your bed. He sits cross legged and you mirror him. He seems to realize he’s still holding your hand because he lets it go, and you mourn the loss of warmth and the feeling of his skin under yours while he gathers his thoughts. You can almost see the gears turning in his head, turning his feelings into thoughts and those thoughts into words and sentences and sentiments that he can share with you. You give him the space to do so, because even though you’re dying to know what he’s feeling and to confirm that he meant what you thought he meant, you know that sometimes it can take him a bit longer than you to verbalize and express what he means, and that’s totally okay.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. No matter how hard I try, you’re always on my mind,” he says. He shifts, fidgeting slightly, as he gestures with his hands while he speaks. You watch them for a moment before your eyes make their way back to his own. “And I thought it was just, y’know, as a friend. And I was happy thinking that way for a while, but the more we’ve hung out and the better I’ve gotten to know you, the more I realized that it’s not just as a friend.” He sighs, bringing his hands down to start picking at the blanket on your bed. “Robin’s been on my ass about it for ages, which has been kind of annoying, but I didn’t want to ruin what we have. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if… what if I say something and we can’t go back to what we have now?”

It’s as if he’s got a direct line tapped into your own thoughts, like he’s plucked a cassette tape from your brain and popped it in your boom box to start playing your thoughts, your feelings, and your fears for him. You’re not sure you’ve been breathing this entire time; while Steve has left you breathless on occasion, this is a little different. Because this is Steve admitting that he feels the same way you do, with his big brown eyes shining in the soft orange light your lamp is emitting.

“But I realized I don’t really want to go back. I want this. I want you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” The words come out quickly, as if they’re stumbling over his tongue and his lips to race out to you. The bubble in your chest finally pops, warmth spreading through your chest, up to warm your necks and your cheeks, and down to warm your fingers and your toes. Steve feels the same way you do. He wants you. “And when you gave me that book, which was actually much better than I was expecting it to be, I knew that was how I wanted to tell you. Darcy just happened to word it much better than I could, so I just kinda piggybacked off him so I could tell you how I feel and hope you don’t hate me for it.”

“I could never hate you, Steve.” You’re very quick to try and reassure him (though you’re also sure you’re reassuring yourself that this is real as well), your hands finding his to stop them picking at your comforter. It’s your turn to talk now, and you focus on how warm Steve’s hands are held in your own to keep you grounded in this moment. “God, I’ve been so scared because I feel the same way, and I didn’t want to lose you, but I didn’t think you’d ever feel like that about me.” Steve’s face immediately lights up, any and all creases and frown lines being smoothed away to make room for joy that radiates like your own personal sun. And his joy is infectious because you can feel yourself smiling, too.

“You really… you feel the same way about me?” he asks, and you nod. Because the more he says it, the more you two talk about it, the easier it comes out. Yes, you’re so in love with Steve, and now you know he’s in love with you. Steve shuffles closer to you on the bed, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your already warm cheeks.

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. You voice aloud your consent, and then he’s leaning forward and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. His lips are slightly chapped, and you can taste the bite of spearmint on his tongue—you didn’t think he had time to brush his teeth before leaving his house with how quickly he got there, so he most likely had some Tic Tacs that you know he keeps in his glove compartment before he got here. The idea of Steve eating some mints before climbing up the side of your house is so endearing to you, because of course he would, and you smile against his lips as your hands squeeze his own.

This kiss is nothing like you’d imagined; there’s no huge bursting of fireworks, there’s no burning desire to jump each other (on your end, at least), but there is a sense of comfort and familiarity. This is Steve, your Steve, whose nose bumps against yours a little awkwardly but whose lips fit with your own like they were always meant to be there. And boy, did you hope they would always fit with yours from now on.

However, the need for air soon has the two of you breaking apart, though Steve presses his forehead to yours and brings one of your hands up to press small kisses to your knuckles.

“That was… wow,” he says, a breathy laugh tumbling out of his mouth. “How come we waited so long to do this?”

“Because we were both too worried about being a good friend to let ourselves be happy.” That gets a real chuckle out of Steve, which quickly turns into a wonderful, full laugh from the both of you. You sit in silence for a moment once the laughter subsides, and Steve presses a kiss to your forehead before he lets go of your hands.

“I’m gonna take you on a real date,” he promises, crossing his hand over his heart. “Dinner, a movie, anything you want! You name it and we’ll do it. It’ll be the best first date you’ve ever been on.”

“As long as it’s with you, there’s no way it won’t be.” You see the way his cheeks flush at those words, and it fills you with a sense of pride to know that you have that effect on him—and that you get to see this, just you, with the guy you’re in love with. Wow, you don’t know if you’ll ever get tired of thinking that.

(Steve leaves out your bedroom window not long after, but promises he’ll call you in the morning; you watch him nearly fall down the trellis on the right, which you think might be broken now too, and see Steve dust himself off and get back in his car to drive home. Once his headlights have long since vanished into the distance, you head back to bed and pick up your new favourite book, one that you’ll read from time and time again when you want to remind yourself of how loved you are by Steve Harrington.)

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things reader insert #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things

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everydaydg · 8 months

Text

A simple (illustrated) guide to BINGO

-Space Invaders Extreme 2

So... whats this about

Ive talked enought about EX2 enought as it is with the kinda long review I made a while back.

So what else can I say about the game now?

Bingo.

Bingo is a system that most players are not well familiar with despite being present at all times

Its an incredibly important part of the score attack gameplay loop, it being the highest paying bonus in the whole game

When done propperly, it can net you 2000000 points easly.

So how does it work?

To start, lets take a look at the top screen

The top screen displays a 3x3 grid with three lines, every line has one of three colored borders

Red Green and Blue respectively

The way you score a bingo is by connecting three squares. it can be done vertically, horizontaly, diagonaly, just like a game of bingo.

The way you go about filling a square is by activating fever time with specific color combinations

Let me explain how to do so

In this screenshot ive shot 4 blue invaders and they have been marked on the bottom screen on the 8 squares

You see something different here?

The blue row is brighter than then rest

Compare this to the last screenshot where all the rows are of the same brightness

Now what happens if I were to shoot four red invaders after those first four

After shooting the four reds, the top right sqaure is suddenly glowing. not the whole row.

but this by itself wont fill the square

Starting fever time does

Where im going with this is:

The first four invaders of the same color select the border

The second four indicate the inside of the square

You will know if a square has been filled by it having a golden border after fever time

Heres a short recording of everything in motion

Excuse the lives lost. I was a bit distracted and im not used to playing on emulator

I decided to go for a diagonal line as it is the easiest to do.

every time you see me go into fever with 8 of the same color thats me filling a square for the line

Before the bingo you see I evoid going for the fever with the green and red combo. I did that so I could go for a red red fever time in order to activate bingo

Keep in mind... bingo is not limited to one line.

Here is a two line bingo set up which lasts longer than a regular bingo and has more item drops

The 2000000 bonus I mentioned only comes from a full house bingo. it being 3 lines of bingo being triggered at the same time

Heres a setup for a three row bingo

Space Invaders Extreme 2 is a fun balance of fever time and bingo set up.

Too much fever and theres no bingo, too much bingo and theres no fever.

thats all.

Hopefully this helped in any way!

Push your limits to the extreme! hit the highest score you can!

Bingo responsibly and give em hell!

#Space Invaders Extreme #Space Invaders #Space Invaders Extreme 2 #DS #STG

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for-the-love-of-javert · 5 months

Text

Well here it is. My fanfic. This is just chapter one there will be more to come.

First things first, this is an alternate universe fanfic. My universe. Some things will be similar to the canon storyline and others wont. This fic is about Javert and his overall character and developing that character in a way that I would have liked to have sene done in ‘The Brick’. I think Hugo did him dirty in numerous ways. So this is my take on Javert, his life and the possibilities for things he didn’t experience in the book. The first few chapters will be slow burn as I introduce you to a couple of new characters and allow things to develop from there. Who knows where this story will go in the future, but I have decided that instead of making it a one-shot I’m going to be continuing it and hopefully soon adding some illustration to it as well. Please note all places (inn’s, taverns, hotels, etc) are completely fictional with names made up by me because I havent had time to research everything yet and I’m still reading ‘The Brick’. My AU Javert will be based on Quastvert (particularly his image)

Trigger Warnings: This story as it unfolds (as previously stated more chapters will be added to this specific fanfic) will contain descriptions of a sexual nature, and descriptions of violent crime. It will also allude to mental health issues. Read at your own risk. I’d say this fanfic is not suitable for anyone below the age of 16. Also this is my very first fanfic so feedback is important to me.

Themes: Friendship/Lovers/Romance/Character Development (Javert & New characters)/Mental Health/Culty Mindset Deconstruction/Learning to livea normal life. Also: Murder, domestic Violence/Other Crimes/ Police Investigations/Obsession.

New Characters: Catherine Bernard, Chloe Bernard, Pierre, Rose & Andre.

Pre Barricade Era.

Javert: Out of The Shadows

Chapter 1

It had been a long day, longer than it should have been, stressful and unpleasant. After finishing his shift, Inspector Javert made his way home, changed out of his uniform and into less formal attire and, having taken into consideration advice that was offered by a few of his colleagues, he decided to go out and try socialising once again. he had attempted to a couple of time previously after he got a bit of rubbing from two junior officers about his lack of a social life, wife, girlfriend, family and even friends. He had always ignoreed his collleagues when theysuggested he ‘get out more’. he had never had any interest in mixing with society. But lately he had begun to relaise how little he had in his life, besides his job his life most certainly lacked all of the things his colleagues had mentioned. Relationships had always been a no,no for him. He saw women and emotional attachment as inconvenient, however he had never experienced these things so how could he possibly know?

A week or so prior he had met a woman in Le Chien Noir, a tavern where he had stopped by and indulged in one or two drinks. Not much of a drinker of alcohol it had taken him almost 4 hours to drink 2 glasses of red wine and the next morning he had awoken with a headache. His new lady friend, although he had only seen her once since meeting her was called Catherine or Cathy as she preferred to be called. she was an attractive 38 year old widow who had moved back to Paris from Boulogne-sur-Mer 2 years after her husbands death after finally being able to sell their properties and close up his estate. Catherine had no children due to her husbands propensity for violence having afflicted 4 miscarriages. 3 years prior to moving home her husband had murdered his business partner and tried to flee France. Luckily he was caught at Calais and apprehended. From there he was taken to jail, but rather than take accountability for his crimes and face the likelihood of the death penalty, he had hung himself. Uncomfortable living in Boulogne-sur-Mer Catherine returned to Paries and a neighbourhood not too far from where she grew up to start her life over.

On the night they he met her, Javert had been almost instantly captivated by Cathy, she was vivacious, fun and had a wonderful sense of humour. She had blue eyes and dark brown hair, she was short, around 5 feet in height, and voluptuous. But she had no edge to her, she was polite, well manner, kind and attentive to the various customers in the tavern. On and off throught that evening they had talked and he had enjoyed their conversation. Cathy had even managed to amuse him more than once and once he had relaxed a little he had even managed to smile. He had been able to tell that she had been curious about him and no doubt the parisian grapevine had provided plenty of tid bits of information about him and his unusual lifestyle.

Javert’s life beyond his work as a police officer was quiet solitary. With no family to visit him or vice versa and no real friends to socialise with and not to mention an aversion to getting to involved in society generally, he was not used to being out in public, drinking in taverns and fratinising with the ladies who worked in them. He just wasn’t comfortable in these situations and preferred to be alone. Though he occasionally admitted, only to himself, mind, that he did get lonely and yearned for companionship of some kind. He had never had a relationship, never courted in his youth, though he did flirt with girls back then as he got older and more devoted to his work he decided those kind of distractions were something he didn’t need. So he committed himself to his work, to the law and allowed himself no time for pleasure or company of any kind. Not even a pet dog or cat.

When Cathy had finished her shift that night, Javert, who had just finished his drink to a little plunge into the uknown and offered to walk her home. Cathy had happily accepted his offer so they walked into the night towards Cathy’s home which was close to an area where a series of violent robberies had taken place in recent months. On top of that two women had been murdered on the route that led to Cathy’s neighbourhood. Cathy had been understanbly concerned about walking home alone and seemd glad to have the company of the normally distant and somewhat mysterious policeman.

On the way to Cathy’s home they had talked about the recent crimes in the area.

“I’m not a regular member of staff at the tavern, the owners, Pierre and Rose are friends of mine, I help them out when they are short staffed. It’s not fun, finishing a shift and having to walk home when the fastest route is on the exact street where two women have been murdered.” She said.

“I exepct not, but you need not worry, I’ll walk you to your door and as long as I’m not working and you don’t feel like I’m imposing, I can walk you home from the tavern when you have shifts there in future.” He replied.

“You surprise me Inspector. Everything I’ve hear about you is turning out to either be complete lies or only half truths.”

“How so?” Javert asked.

“Well town gossip states that you never go out, have no friends, no family and beyond your work your not interested in anything.” Cathy replied.

"Well, it is true that I have no family, I am unmarried and have never been married. My parents are dead and I have no ther family. It is also true that I don’t go out much if at all and when I do it’s usually to eat.“ He said.

“Yet you have, been to the tavern a few times in the past few weeks. Also you have been quite sociable, especially this evening. I’ve rather ejoyed talking to you.“

"The feeling is mutual Madame and I am glad to be able to make sure you get home safely.”

“So am I Inspector.”

“Please call me Javert.”

“Has the killer been found yet?” She asked

“Sadly and rather annoyingly, no he hasn’t. But we are searching for him.” He replied.

For a few moments they walked in silence and turning into the street where Cathy lived, he wondered whether or no he should ask her to go out with him. But what on earth would make him think she would want to.

They reached Cathy’s front door and she turned to him and asked

“Would you like to join me for a drink or some supper?”

He was a little taken aback and trying not to seem to eager he replied

“No, that is quite alright, I don’t expect you to go to any trouble. Besides, it is late, I’m sure your tired and would prefer to turn in for the night.” He was blushing and felt a bit of a dolt for turning down her offer.

“It’s no trouble at all, and you didn’t eat at the tavern this evening, I bet you’re hungry. Come on in.” She insisted, smiling.

Then she turned to open the door. As she walked into the house she found Eponine (Thenardier), who had been taking care of Cathy’s young neice while she was working, curled up asleep in a chair. Cathy gently woke her and queeried as to how things had been while she had been out and was pleased to hear that her niece, Chloe who was four years old had been well behaved and was fast asleep. Cathy paid Eponine and Eponine left to go home with arrangments made to take care Chloe again on Sunday afternoon/early evening.

Cathy handed Javert a bottle of wine while Cathy made some sandwiches for supper. Normally she would have a soup or a stew prepared and ready for heating up but she hadn’t had time to make either of those meals today because Pierre had sent is 12 year old son, Andre to give her a message that they were short staffed at the tavern. She had literally only had enough time to change her clothes, brush her hair and leave the house. Eponine had stayed overnight the night before so she was already there and happy to stay and look after Chloe for what was only supposed to be 4 hours but ended up being 8 hours because the tavern had been busy.

Javert and Cathy chatted well into the night. Luckily, neither of them wer eworking the next day and by the time Javert got ready to go home, Cathy had already decided she had wanted him to stay. But before she could ask him, on reaching the door and bidding her goodnight he turned around and why he did it, he had no idea, but he had the urge to touch her, even to kiss her, and without thinking he gently stroked her cheek with the back off his fingers, and then again with the palm of his hand, wondering as he did this if he was going to get his face slapped for pushing his luck. Cathy, stood there looking up at him. Her eyes met his and she placed her hand on top of his pressing it more firmly against her cheek. She then moved his hand a little, down towards her lips anf she kissed the palm of his hand. Needing no further encouragment, Javert gently took her face in both of his hands, leaned down and kissed her, softly and politely at first and then a little more passionately, she returned his kiss with a needy enthusiasm and he gathered her up in his arms and held her tight as he kissed her. When they ended their kiss, she reached up and placed her hand on his face with a pleading expression on her face she said softly.

“please stay with me.”

He wanted to, oh god he wanted to, at that moment he wanted all of the things he had never had or experienced. But a voice inside his head told him it was the wrong thing to do, that if he stayed with her he would be taking advantage of her even though she had asked him to stay. She asked again;

“Please, I’m not expecting anything form you. I’d just like you to stay with me and hold me.”

She couldn’t remeber that last time she had laid in bed with a man who was happy to hold her, show her any kind of affection or even make love to her. Her husband had been something of a savage beast. Everything he did was done with anger and haste as though he were doing it literally for his own satisfaction. He had never been loving or even caring for that matter and their marriage had been deeply unhappy. Their physical relationship was more often than not forced and brutal and she had dared not complain because he would beat her if she did. Violence was something he really liked, he enjoyed it other than that his only other pleasures were alcohol and money. When he killed himself in prison he she was glad that part of her life was over. Relieved that she could move on and make a life for herself elsewhere. She could not lie to anyone but not least to herself that she was glad her husband was gone. She didn’t miss him at all. The thought of anyone justing lying in bed with her and holding her made her happy, but after what had just happened, how she had felt when Javert held her and kissed her, she wanted more, and she wanted it from him. He had lit a flame in her that had long since burned itself out, and she had lit a flame in him that had never even existed.

Javert, now feeling guilty at the thought of leaving her alone relented and agreed to stay. vowinf to himself that he would behave like a gentleman and only hold her as she had asked him to. But he was not so sure that he could keep that vow. Cathy smiled and he retook his seat at the kitchen table, while Cathy washed their supper dishes and finished her glass of wine. After that she led him upstairs to the bedroom.

Eponine stood outside on the street deciding whether to go to the hovel she had been staying in with her mother and sister or whether to go and find her friends and spend the night in their company. She watched from across the street as Cathy’s house went dark. She had also taken a mental note that she had not seen the Inspector leave. Eponine decided to keep this information to herself, she liked Cathy and adored her niece, Chloe and did not want to cause problems as Cathy would often give her food and allow her to spend the night and on that night like an idiot, Eponine had told Cathy she had made arragements to spend the night with her mother and sister. It had been a lie, but in a way she was glad to not be in Cathy’s house this night even though nothing at all might have been happening, though she knew that thought was probably unlikely.

Cathy led Javert into her bedroom and lit a lamp then hung it on the hook on the wall. She left the bedroom for a brief moment to check on Chloe who was sleeping soundly. On returning to her bedroom she found Javert sitting on the bed looking a little unsure of himself and of what to do next. She closed the bedroom door and walked over to Javert, she could tell he was nervous. He opened his mouth to speak and she placed her finger on his lips, then, taking his face gently in her hands she leaned downa kissed him. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her body against him. Their kiss became more passionate, more urgent, as he slipped his tongue between he slightly parted lips and into her warm, moist mouth. His tongue stroked hers and hers in return, stroked his, they kissed deeper, harder and began to undress each other. She slipped his jacket over his shoulders and then removed his cravat. Frantically unbuttoning his shirt she brushed her lips across his face and then down passed his jaw, to his neck as he removed her blouse and unfastened her skirt allowing it to fall to the floor. With an even great sense of need and urgency she removed his undergarments and then started to unfasten his trousers. As her hand moved slowly over his groin she felt his manhood hardening. He broke off the kiss and pressed his face against her ample, curvaceous breasts.

“I need to take off my Shoes.” He whispered.

“As do I.” she respinded with a giggle.

They removed their shoes and he then took on the challenge of removing her corset. He failed to understand why w woman would want to go through such rigmarole just for the sake of keeping the wobbly parts in place. Cathy giggled like a little girl as his finger lightly tickled he spine while he was unlacing her corset. His hands were warm though a little bit rough. As he removed the corset and the rest of her undergarments he cupped his hands gently around her breasts, coaxing her nipples with his fingers until they were erect, while she reached behind her having still not removed his trousers and slowly caressed his manhood which was now almost fully erect. She then pulled down his trousers and as they dropped to his feet he kicked them off. Then he removed his socks, and lay down on the bed pulling Cathy onto the bed with him.

He couldn’t remember a time when his curiosity had been so heightened. He softly caressed Cathy’s body, making sure to explore every curve with his hands as they travelled from her shoulders down to her ankles. He moved atop her and kissed her, deeply, firmly, passionately and with more confidence and contentment than he had ever been able to imagine feeling in such a situation with a woman. Moving from her mouth to her neck he kissed, licked and nibbled his way around her voluptuous body, raising his eyes only to glance at her lovely, face which shone with contentment and like porcelain in the dim lamplight. From her neck to her shoulder, down to he breasts, her nipples down her waist, her hips to the outside of her left thigh and across to outside of her right thigh, then to the inside of her right thigh and across to her left thigh, working his way up and she moaned with pleasure and writhed with the ever increasing arousal. He put his hand between her legs and with one finger he gently and eagerly massaged her most private and intimate area, causing her to become moist, he then slipped his finger inside of her entrance, exploring, investigating the inner sanctum, he moaned louder and writhed more vigorously, he fingered her a little long, slipping another finger inside of her as she raised her legs and rested them on his shoulders. He licked the outer nipple between her legs and then removing his fingers from inside her he slipped his tongue in, swirling it around and savouring the taste of her.

Cathy was breathing heavily now and faster, she couldn’t control herself or the sounds that were escaping from her mouth. She whispered:

“Please, I want you inside me.”

He kissed and licked his way back up her naked body again then he lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, with one thrust his generously sized, hard cock was inside of her and she clutched at his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his skin leaving light scratches, she raised and lowered her pelvis to join with him each time her thrust. It was intense and wonderful and she hadn’t felt like this before nor had she felt so utterly wanted by anyone. Javert rolled over pulling Cathy on top of him and she rose up and down on his throbbing, hard cock. He held her hips trying to control her movements as she had almost completely lost control of herself and her actions. Javert sat up and thrust as deep into her as he could get, he was completely enveloped by them warm, wet hole by which he had been enveloped. They climbed the mountain together and fell from the summit together, sweating, moaning, panting as Cathy collapsed on top of him and pressed her forehead into his shoulder. He held her for what seemed like a long time but was only a few mere minutes. She rolled off him and turned onto her side to face him, stroking his face she pressed her lips agains his and kissed him and they snuggled up together and fell asleep.

Javert could still scarcely believe that it had happened, and on the first night they had met, no dinner date, no lunch in a cafe, just a woman at work and him a customer, a man, who had never believed he was worthy of any such attention and, not even looking for such an encounter. Though he had seen her a couple of time since then, both times he had been working and unable to spend time with her. This night he had paid little Gavroche Thenardier a little bit of money to find out whether or not Cathy was working at the Tavern. If she was not there he would go to her home and hope to be able to see her there. He met up with Gravroche who told him that Cathy was working in the tavern that night. So off he trudged to Le Chien Noir.

The tavern was busy again and he wasn’t comfortable in such crowded places. He looked through the window and spotted Cathy putting on her coat and saying goodbye to the other staff. He waited in the alley beside the tavern and as she left he stepped out in front of her almost scaring her into an early grave.

“Jesus Christ Javert! Why are you lurking around in the shadows like an old phantom?"

"I apologise Madame, I did not mean to frighten you, my intention was to surprise you though.” He responded.

“Surpise me eh?.” she said shaking her head. “That you most certainly did.”

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m alright, just give me a moment while my heart works it’s way back into my chest. Have you come to walk me home again?"

"Yes. I’ve also brought some supper and wine if you’d like toshare it with me.”

“I’d love to.” She smiled and nodded.

Cathy took Javert’s arm and they set off walking back to her house.

“I also had an overwhelming desire to see you again, and spend more time with you. I like to get to know you better.” Javert said a little embarassed at how open he’d been in the moment but he felt so comfortable with her, he just couldn’t help blurting it out.

“I’d like to get to know you too Javert. Will you be spening the night with me again?"

"Would you like to me to?” He asked.

“Yes I would.”

“Then I shall stay with you again.” He replied with a knowing smile.

She smiled back at him, linked her arm through his and for a moment or two, leaned her head against his arm. she didn’t understand why the locals feared him. in many ways no different to any other man despite having chosen to live his life in mostly solitude with only his work to keep things interesting. But little did she know how complicated, interesting and multilayered he could be. They had discussed little of his past, his childhood or his life before he became a police officer. While to him it was very simple because that’s they way he had constructed his life to be. He had built it around a very basic, but flawed view of the world and humanity and also that he was not accustomed to letting people into his very private little world, or displaying his emotions and thoughts. But she would find out soon enough. The streets in Cathy’s neighbourhood were quiet as they reached her modest yet cosy home. Eponine had fallen asleep on the chair again. Unable to wake her, Cathy left her their as she and Javert went into the kitchen to partake of their supper and wine. They chatted quietly for an hour or so before discreetly making their way upstairs, leaving the ground floor rooms of the house in darkness. While Eponine and Chloe slept peacefully throughout the night, Javert and Cathy intensified their relationship even further.

By For The Love of Javert

Tomorrow I get drawing again and see what I can come up with.

The Qustvert pics are to mark the beginning and end of the chapter. Hopefully soon I'll have a thinner page divider to separate the chapters or possibly an illustration of my own.

Good night I'll check in tomorrow to see what the commentary is like. I'm dreading it btw. Especially as I stayed up until 5.15am to get it finished.

#fanfic #my first fanfic #javert: out of the shadows #javert fic #javert fanfic #please leave feedback #I'm off to dpeosit my nervous middle aged soul into bed now

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what-if-nct · 2 years

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my love how are you today?

love the pink haired bbygirl xiaojun so much and gosh taro at the back, how do you always manage to have the best profile and header?!

and wow 127 is in the states too??

anyways its so cold here i hate winter, it wont be too cold for you but i hope you take care anyways!

-venus

I just love that picture of Xiaojun and Taro so much. I wish they didn't change they're hair so much. Imagine a world we're Xiaojun keeps his pink hair and Renjun keeps his Hot Sauce hair for as long as possible. I want that world. And Yuta belly button piercing is just a necessity.

Yes! I wish they were going to more states. Please, please come back to Miami, please. They loved it here, why no one come to Miami. Not even Taylor Swift. But hopefully we get more us content. Also the American air really changes them what was going on with Jaehyun in his live. I loved it. It's pretty cold here but not too cold I do have the sniffles though. But I know other places are having a hard winter. Stay warm, have lots of warm food and cocoa and soup. Take care of yourself.

And I'm doing fine oh I got the cutest most 2000s skirt ever it's pink and denim and is tight then is pleated below the hip. But it's really short like just decent enough to wear but I cannot bend over most of my skirts are honestly just an inch longer anyway. I also got a pink tiara rug that says heiress. I made my lord and savior Paris Hilton proud with this order.

Seriously this is what I look like at the mall, grocery store, doctors office, therapy, anywhere.

Except pink converse and not heels. My Best friend use to get so mad at me for how short my skirts are but now she gets it.

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jellicatty · 2 months

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‧˚꒰ TENYA IIDA HAS A CRUSH ₊

╰┈➤ contains : tenya iida x gender neutral reader. reader is his classmate and wears lipstick. sfw. fluff.

╰┈➤ note : tenya needs more love !! i cannot believe most people overlook this boy... Like how can you he's literally the full package !! Hopefully i stayed to his character here

This boy has his life put together. He has everything planned and thought of but, he never contemplated on love— until he met you (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶).

I believe physical appearance doesn't matter to him and instead favors someone with a kind personality.

Tenya mostly ignores the lingering thoughts of you in his head first because he's just that so dedicated to becoming a hero and living up to his family's name (so much so that he never noticed his friends being aware of his feelings).

If you are classmates, oh, this sweet boy would be staring at you all the damn time with flushed cheeks!! Well, how couldn't he with your captivating smile and cute eyes. He also adores your passion for becoming a hero.

Every time there would be trainings he hopes to not be paired up with you. BECAUSE!! he wants to show off his quirk and insanely fast reflexes. He hates to admit it but he does enjoy your stares at his engines (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵).

If you get beaten up during your training, this man is ZOOMING straight beside you and asking a gazillion questions regarding your condition. Once he confirms your injuries, he's carrying you to the infirmary because of course, he's the class president and it's only right for him to carry his classmate to the infirmary.

"Hey, I believe you got this wrong. It's actually like this." Tenya would always be by your side to correct your mistakes and sometimes it does get annoying but he only does it with good intentions.

He's strict. However, when it comes to you it's like all his rigid attitude is gone? He thinks he's so subtle with it too but no— the whole class is aware of his slight favoritism.

"Good Morning, Y/n!" He enthusiastically greeted you, "I noticed that you're wearing lipstick today. Im afraid to tell you but only minimal makeup is allowed within the school premises."

He was about to say more but stopped once he saw you pouting.

"A-Ah! But of course, the lipstick you applied isn't that too distracting. I suppose you aren't breaking any rules."

"Why were you staring at my lips? (ᵕ•_•)"

Oh, he's busted and it's all because he cannot stop staring at you (๑-﹏-๑).

Whenever you join his study sessions, Tenya pays more attention to you and makes extra efforts to make sure that you're following and excelling his provided practice tests. He even offers to tutor you after Midoriya and the others leave.

Speaking of his friends, they would come up with masterplans to get Tenya and you together, alone, with privacy, and no distractions. After all, it's uncommon to see the class president and their friend be this smitten over someone.

Unfortunately, Ochako and Midoriya are also a bunch of losers when it comes to crushes so their masterplans never go smoothly all the time. Poor kids (ᵕ—ᴗ—).

I believe Tenya has slipped your name into family conversations subconsciously. His family could be chatting randomly and Iida would be like...

"Oh yeah, that new car claims to be as fast as our engine. Y/n has actually mentioned that my quirk can be used for races even against cars." And his family would be like "Y/n..?"

But Tensei knows his little brother with his whole heart and knows his little crush on y/n even though he hasn't mentioned it. Like any big brother, he would tease Tenya about it but would always be met with "I'm too focused on becoming a hero" and all that.

Tenya is pretty much in denial with his feelings and it's all because he doesn't want any distractions in his way to be a hero. But, he soon realized that the longer he ignores his feelings, the more it intensifies.

Although a part of him wished for his emotions to calm down, it wont. His heart wouldn't stop beating quickly around you, his palm gets so sweaty all the time, and he cant not be the strict and uptight class president he is to everyone else to you. You make him so soft and he's afraid of what this could lead to.

All he needs is some small pep talk from his friends or Tensei that having a crush won't hurt his dream to become a hero; that it's okay to let loose and be a teenager for once.

"I know that you, my little brother, is a boy with an uptight personality. But, I promise you, it will be okay." Tensei spoke as he grabbed Tenya's shoulders.

"You'd be Ignenium without doubt. So, it's okay to open your heart, Tenya."

#tenya iida x reader #iida x reader #ignenium x reader #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha iida #mha tenya iida #mha fanfiction #iida #| 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐘 (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

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indigo474 · 11 months

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Oct 15th- sunday funday

I've been nothing but tired and hungry all weekend. I've been sleeping really good and eating healthy food. lots of protein and veggies. i was tempted to order out tonight but decided against it. My body- oh my body.. I woke up with my back hurting.. and me being sore. i'm guessing from packing and picking up boxes and moving things here and there. i was thinking this must be how people feel when they complain about being/getting old. i did go for a run- it wasn't the best- my body just feels worn out. I got a lot done today... mostly everything is packed- i have a lot of clothes and a lot of shoes. too much- i think i will be unpacking forever.... I had to repack all of the old photo albums. i was able to skim through them without crying. i did get emotional when i found a picture of my Mom and Grandmom- ohh how i miss her. she was smiling big in the picture. thats the thing about pictures- they show the good times- the birthday parties and the holidays. everyone's happy and smiling.. how many nights did i sit in the front room scared to even move.. i would sit on the couch frozen waiting for him to go to bed so i could go in the kitchen and clean up from dinner. how great of a mom could i have been? I was there but not really there.. ahh and the more i'm able heal the more i realize how sick i was.. i just didnt know it.. and this is where self forgiveness come in.. the absolute hardest thing i have done and have to do is forgive myself-it's not something that is done once and move on.. oh no- it's just like everything else on this journey- the healing happens a little at a time.. it's a spiral.. things that would have floored me in the past.. no longer do. bit by bit- day by day.. i'm no longer clawing my way out of a black hole.. pain comes- pain goes.... sit with it, feel it, let it change you and let it go. weird i saw something today that i saw in a dream.. a procession of sorts.. i still don't know what i saw- in my dream i asked- what are they doing- who did i ask? I dont know, but i got an answer.. today i asked myself- i wonder what they are doing- very strange to me.. seeing something in my dreams and seeing it in real life. it's not the first time its happened. hopefully it wont be the last. its always odd- holy shit i dreamed this.. i fucking saw this in my dreams-it's normal in a sense because i'm seeing it for the 2nd time- and its happening.. but is it really normal? Someone said to me in casual conversation, yeah its like when birds fly into your car.. i didnt say anything at the time but i was like wow that happens to you to?? a few weeks later i asked her if she remembered saying that to me and she said yes it happens to me all the time.. i told her it happens to me too. I asked her if it was normal and she said she didn't know, i asked her if she thinks it happens to other people and she said she didnt know.. i told her i thought it only happened to me until she said it happens to her. she said weird stuff happens to her all the time.. me too, me too.

I cant believe this is really happening... i need to find someone that knows how do stuff. I need a new garbage disposal.. and a battery back up for the sump pump.. maybe i can do it by watching a few youtube videos. maddy is worried about money.. i am not. not yet anyway.. i dont want to worry... i want to enjoy this time in my life.. i want to enjoy my life period.. no worries.. just love .. its all going to workout.. all of it.. good things good things.. i have to believe in something.. i have to believe that what's ahead of me is much much better than that is behind me.. i haven't lived my best days yet. busy busy week..

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bloodmoon-bites · 2 years

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A fic idea I was thinking of is where the reader had died (how she died is up to you) under a full moon and was resurrected by the moon gods and then was adopted by them and named "Daughter of the Moon" and even though she has many parents she mainly talks to Selene, Isis, and Artemis. While many of the other moon gods talk to the reader as much as they can the reader rarely ever talks to Khonshu but does hear about the things he's been having Marc do in order to stop Ammit from resurrecting. The reader tries to avoid anything that has to do with Khonshu but is eventually dragged into his mess when Isis shows up begging her to get Khonshu to stop his nonsense about Ammit thinking that since she is his daughter that he will listen(what happens after that is up to you)

oml I love this idea anon! Normally I don't do child readers but, this is too good to pass up! here's a small fic for ya! Also ig it's a small filler, for now, I will try to have the new chapters for The Moon's Shadow out soon! I will hopefully have it out sometime tonight or tomorrow! Words: 468 Daughter of the moon A khonshu x Daughter! reader Drabble (Platonic) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Years ago, before you even had the chance to truly live out your life, someone took it from you. At the age of 20, A man had shot you in the back of the head, killing you instantly. You had died under the light of the full moon, praying for someone to save you. It was then that the gods of the moon had chosen to save you and take you in as there own, and that’s how you had found yourself in the position. The other gods had come to you, begging you to do something about khonshu, the moon god she rarely spoke to, to get him to stop obsessing over ammit. At first, you didn't want to, but eventually, Isis had begged them to no end to get him to stop, so here they were now, arguing with the god, trying desperately to get him to stop all this insanity "Khonshu, just listen to me!" You yelled at him, only to have him scoff in your face, "the other moon gods want you to stop all of this! There is no way in hell that harrow's going to be able to raise ammit! If you won't listen to them, at least listen to me!" "Little one, this doesn't concern you, and the others are foolish to not believe me. Harrow will raise ammit if we don't stop him!" he said looking down at me, sighing lightly before shaking his head, "i wont be arguing with you about this any longer-" You cut him off, "then at least let me help you!" you yelled out "The don't do this alone, there's no way you'll be able to stop them alone!" you said looking up at him "no little one, i cannot put you in that kind of danger. I may not know much about caring for a child, but i do know to not put my child in that much danger, and that's that, no if, and or buts," he said crossing his arms You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “you’ll get yourself killed, or worse!” you sighed and shook your head, “i’ve tried to tell you, so when you run off and get killed don’t yell for help, because i tried to tell you!” You stormed off from his room, trying yo clear your head. hopefully he would listen... TIME SKIP You stood in the room filled with mini stone statues of various gods, but the only one that stood out was the one infront of you, khonshu’s statue. you took it in hand and sighed “i tried to warn you khonshu... we all did” you placed the statue back down in it’s place, “but whenever they do let out out, we’ll be here waitin on you” you turned on your heel, leaving the room

#khonshu x reader #khonshu #moon knight

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raekahwritings · 3 years

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BNHA Gods AU - Thanatos - Shindou Yo

GODS AU! - What kind of shitty god are you?

Pairing: Shindou You x Reader

Rating: Explicit, NSFW, Minors, DO NOT ENTER.

Warning: NSFW, Mentions of non-consent, slight blood/gore/murder,slight yandere.

Word Count: 2016

Authors Note: This was written in one night, I really wanted to make it in time for this collaboration despite everything going on right now. I hope you all can forgive me since this wasn’t proof read but hopefully you all can enjoy the Gods!AU Shindou!

GODS!AU Collaboration: Please check out the collab here from @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten

The age of gods was long over. They no longer walked this earth. No one worshipped them; they became the words of fiction and stories.

Let the gods guide you.

Live your life well and the gods may reward you.

Do not turn away from the path of good, lest the gods punish you.

Where were the gods when you needed them? When your mother had dressed you up as a pretty doll, when you smiled and jumped in the excitement of a new dress, and when she had shown you to a portly older gentleman. He took you, none-too-gently, and placed a bag of coins into your mother’s palm. She had left brusquely, curtly, and took care not to look you in the eyes.

How long had it been since then? Your childhood had gone by in the mess of yelling, screams, and scullery work. When you were old enough? You now lay on the floor with your clothing strewn apart, dried tears on your face and a voice hoarse from screaming.

This was a life where no gods deigned to visit—this was a place of vileness, sordidness, and loathsome men. You were nothing more than a commodity to them—they had no qualms about leaving you on this dirty floor.

God, you had prayed so many times. Save me.

You’d been delivered to them, lent like broken toy until they called the brothel master to fetch you.

You had been defiled too many times to believe that any God would help you now.

Where were you? What had they consecrated this time? They had laughed and they had jeered while you had cringed at the blasphemy they spewed. They had taken their belts to mark you, left you bleeding, and then poured acridly old liquid, “—better hope this fucking holy water works.”

“They would laugh at this.” You blinked away the tears, blinked to see the dormant idolatry of Thanatos nearby. You scrabbled at the ground, trying to find a perch to lay your hands on so you could get up. You winced at seeing the dried blood and spilt fluids. If there was a moment for Thanatos to judge you, this would be now.

But would he?

Gods had come and gone, with nary a care. You tried to stand, tried to ignore the mess they had made, and you glared at the idolatry. “You didn’t stop this.” You pointed to the empty room – “You’re supposed to be some merciless, hateful god of death.” You scoffed, knowing it was pathetic. Here you were, reaching a level of desperation to talk to some useless piece of stone and an empty room like it would answer you. But all the resentment, anger, and bitterness spewed out – here and now— you hissing, “You’re a fucking piece of shit god.”

And yet.

“If my life was enough of a price, would you come here and now? Or am I too dirty for someone like you? You want a precious little girl, an innocent naïve little sheep?” You furiously took the idol, glaring before slamming it as hard as you could to the floor. Take that, you fucker.

You watched the idol shatter into pieces, the useless stone rolling away. You should fear your own blasphemy and yet… satisfaction had you feeling smug.

“My, my, that doesn’t seem very nice.”

Holy fuck. You whipped around—the room was empty. When had someone come in? You nearly screamed at the mysterious voice, your arms reaching out to blindly shove at the culprit while you stumbled backwards.

A masculine hand caught your arm, tsking at you and he emerged from the shadows with a disappointed look. You nearly fell backwards but his iron clasp had you standing upright.

“Who are you?” Shock and fear colored your tone, the smugness was fleeting as you look to the door, a door that hadn’t budged since the scraggle of men had left earlier. How did he get in? You looked at him, swallowing nervously, your gaze flitting up and down to make out this stranger in the darkness.

“You called me and yet, you still ask me?” He stepped further into the firelight… You looked up at this dizzyingly tall man, you could make out the messy, dark locks framing his chiseled face. But more so, you found yourself staring into eyes the color of pure jade. He was far too handsome, his features bold and brooding, the stubble on his face giving him a heathenish look. He was broad and lean, the muscles of his arms and chest visible through his disheveled shirt.

Someone who made you stop breathing.

“No.” You breathed— “You’re lying.” You called no one, he was here to take you back to the brothel, you tried to wrench your hand pathetically away. He couldn’t fool you, no matter how handsome he was.

“Calm down.” He pulled you into his chest, you were the one falling forward as he stopped your mewling struggles. You heard those words countless times; it had always preceded the acrid smell of chloroform…

“I don’t want to go back.” You choked out, letting your wrists fall slack. “I don’t want this.”

His voice lilted up, questioning. “Go back where?” You could almost believe the sincerity in his voice, the confusion, the perplexity of the situation. But people loved playing with you, toying with you in these games— men liked playing with women as if it were a game of cat and mouse. You curled your fingers into your palms, once again trying to suppress any kindle of hope—because you inevitably always were sold back.

Meanwhile, Thanatos, the god you had summoned with your blood, piety, and holy water—looked heavenwards in frustration. “Girl, speak your name.” He commanded—you answered obediently.

How? You didn’t mean to answer him.

“I am Thanatos. Now speak plainly. I’ve heard your desperate cry for help, for vengeance.” He leaned back against the stone table, tugging you into his lap. “Now can we dispense with the formalities? I’d much rather you call me Shindou instead.” You found yourself caged in—your chest against his bare one as he gestured for you to look up. “You summoned me. And while I normally ignore mortals…” He let his hand fall loosely to your back—you stiffened, squirming—as his calloused fingers brushed against the filth on your skin, the torn scraps of fabric that hid nothing from his gaze.

“I was personally interested in this offering of yours.” You stilled. There had been no one in the room with you to hear your vitriol words—but this was the temple of Thanatos. Could it be? “Oh. You don’t believe me?” You looked doubtful. Well he couldn’t blame you. His lips curved, expecting this reaction. He waved a hand in the air, letting the firelights flicker to black and purple flames, letting it dance across the room hauntingly for you. You watched transfixed. “But parlor tricks? A dime a dozen.” He said dismissively. He tapped the table, a prompt for the shadows around you to contort menacingly and snaking up your legs.

You jumped more into his arms, away from the strangely prying and invasive shadows as it crawled disturbingly high up your body.

“Girl, they’re simply an extension of me.” You could hear the humor in his tone, see the shadows snake away as he chuckled at your close contact with him. “But I suppose I can be nice for a bit.” He let the darkness recede and the orange firelight to flicker back.

“Now that’s settled, may I discuss your price?” You… took a moment to blink, to really focus on him. Something about him, the closer you were, was making your senses hazy. He seemed to realize, crooning gently to you. “Oh baby, I know gods are supposed to be tempting to mortals and all that but where’s the little spitfire that threw a little tantrum at me? I quite enjoyed it.”

The haze dissipated a bit. You… had thrown down the idolatry, you had committed blasphemy in the actual face of a god. You wanted to die, the shame overwhelming you. Thanatos—no, Shindou simply laughed though—“Baby, don’t think of me as one of the pious assholes. I don’t need you to prostrate yourself to me and those hopeless,” he waved at the ostentatious ornaments adorning the room, “piece of shit, ugly crap of me. I’m a lot more handsome in person, don’t you think?” You couldn’t disagree.

This kind of man—God, you corrected yourself—exuded charisma, aura, sexuality that vibrated with your own being. Like you were made for him, your body melted against his light touch.

“Demon got your tongue? I can fix that.” Shindou cradled the side of your face, leaning in to press a kiss. You gasped, giving him an opportunity for his tongue invade your mouth—ravishing and giving you no air to breathe. He reached down to anchor your hips against his, drawing you more into his lap and letting his hardness press into your dampened, slickened ache between your thighs.

But you were dirty and filthy. You pushed him, and he let you, you knew his strength far outstripped yours. “I can’t.” You shook your head. “You must’ve seen what happened…” It wasn’t just one disgusting man, it was many who had left you sticky and ruined with their fluids on your unwilling body.

Even now.

“Seriously? Shindou sighed. He tutted at you like a child—which as a mortal, you must’ve been. “I came all this way out for your offering, for this delectable and luscious body and you dare to impugn me with your sense of shame?” He cocked his head. “Like I didn’t know? All those men…” He parted your legs, let the sticky fluid drip. “All those men, and they didn’t break your spirit. You come to me, fiery and burning with revenge, and I answered your call. What could be more attractive than this?” Albeit… Shindou did frown. “I don’t care for those worms to mark what’s mine. I guess they all have to die, wont they?”

Your eyes widened… your words caught. You wanted to protest—the mocking feeling of horror should’ve come at the thought of such senseless murder and death…. But you could only feel the sense of relish, of pure desire to see the blood of your captors. You bit your lips, futilely trying to hide your anticipation and eagerness.

“Ah, that’s my girl. I knew you and I would get along.” Shindou pulled down the rags of your dress, watched your nubile body pull close to his and you shivered—his hardness grinded against you—a god like this wanted you. You could hardly believe it. You whimpered as he bit down your throat, bit at the junction of your shoulders while you bled. He licked the bloody trail down your ample breasts, swirling his hot tongue around the hardened peaks and making you arch in muted pleasure.

“Oh no, you can’t stay quiet.” He let the shadowy tendrils return, let it wrap around your throat and craning your neck backwards. His hands traced over your slickened breasts, pinching, pulling, vibrating as you screamed in pleasure and pain. “Sounds quite nice.” He mused, condescendingly. His hands eventually travelled to your taut thighs, teasing the inside of them, and drawing them further apart. His fingers brushed against the dirty cum—he didn’t care for it but he supposed he’d just have to fuck you enough so you’d be dripping with his own cum—all the more reason to cleanse this lustful, vengeful darling of a human.

He had waited for someone like you. Other gods deigned to have their innocent little virgins on their sacrificial alter.

He wanted a tainted, corrupted human whose lust rivalled their desire for revenge—a human he could turn into his little fuck toy of a god, one who would stand by his side as he ruled over mayhem, murder, and death. Preferably, begging for his cock and drunk on cum – not a bad start, he mused. Not a bad start.

#shindou you #shindo yo #bnha x reader #bnha smut #gods!au #boku no hero academia #boku no hero #fanfiction #boku no hero fanfic #shindou yo x reader #shindo yo x reader #raekah #bnha fanfiction #fanfic

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writingabouteverything · 3 years

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The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:))

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever.

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex?

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish.

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that.

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again.

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle.

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar.

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird.

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.”

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.”

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health.

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.”

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have.

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.”

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh.

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.”

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.”

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.”

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible.

I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut.

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?”

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach.

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.”

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.”

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.”

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.”

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected.

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!”

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go.

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.”

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.”

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?”

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.”

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black.

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between.

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.”

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.”

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.”

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.”

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.”

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.”

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.”

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--”

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse.

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.”

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.”

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.”

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #jane the virgin #jane the virgin AU #lot #hslot st louis

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drawing-way-outside-the-lines · 2 years

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➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖

Chapter 26 - Tough cookie

Episode 2. *Somewhere far away, in a dark basement* Raven: So... tell me again... Hudson... why on earth are you trying to lie to me, when I already know the truth? *he looked at the man sitting before him, tied to a chair* There's a reason why YOU are here, and no one else. The others were lucky enough to only have their memory wiped clear.... but you... you might just end up being wiped completely clear of existence, unless you start talking. You might as well tell me what I already know... Hudson: *The lawyer sitting in front of him, tried his best to pretend his innocence, but it was no use against Raven's powers. The demon already knew everything that had happened in Hudson’s entire life, even stuff Hudson had done his best to forget* I swear! I don't know what you are talking about! All I had to do was sign papers for her! It was the same generic paper workas you see for any other reality tv! She only called us in to make him nervous, she never planned to actually use us against him! *That part of it was true at least, Raven knew that much* I'm a good man! I have an honest job! A wife and to kids! I'm working hard so I can be able to offer a good college to my kids when they get older! I go to church every Sunday! Raven: Churches don't make people good, Hudson. I think both you and I have made that discovery in life.

*He tilted his head, observing the frozen man closely* However...I decided to stick around and make sure, any other wile child molesting creature would get what they deserved, and maybe just maybe some day, my victims would then be able to forgive me for my past. And if not, at least I hopefully made the world a little safer for the future generations.

Hudson: ...... Raven: Suddenly not so chatty huh? Hudson: .......Raven: Right... let's get it on then*Not many seconds passed before a loud scream of terror went through the halls of the basement, and had there been any other person around, they could have sworn what came after that scream, was the most terrifying sound they had ever heard* Sophie: So that Raven guy... he's... safe or what? *She smiled soft at Evan* I'm sorry, I understood he's your boyfriend, right?I don't mean to be rude.. it's just... I also understood he's a demon? I don't know if it was meant literal, but aren't demons supposed to be really bad?Andy: Well he's my boyfriend too... well actually fiance *he chuckled* but yes, he's a demon.But he's part of a very respectable demon clan, and they follow certain rules to be able to live among humans. That of course doesn't mean that they haven't done bad things in the past. But we all have a past, right? Evan: Well not exactly like the McKinney'sAndy: Right *he snorted* but still... we have all done some shit at some point in our lives. And the McKinney's have done much more good by now, than they have ever done bad. He wont hurt you, he, or his brothers for that matter, doesn't hurt people any longer. They only go after bad people now... really bad... like... rapists or... people that wear Crocs *he chuckled hoarse* Sophie: *She laughed somewhat nervously* Evan: Don't mind him *he shook his head gently at Andy* he's just trying to lighten the mood. Raven is perfectly safe for you, don't worry. So is his brothers, if you should ever come by them. Sophie: *She nodded soft* Evan: Sorry, I know it's hard, specially cause your questions doesn't get more than short replies, but trust us, we have been through this. You'll need your time to slowly ease into it all. It simply wont make much sense, and only create even more questions, the more we answer. If I were to sit down and tell you all about all our kids, it would be pointless, cause there's simply too much to keep track of in your head already. The same goes for Raven. If I were to completely explain him, it would simply be too much for you all at once. It's a lot like... going to school for the first time and then be expected to read by the end of the day. It's simply impossible. If you want to be a part of Sam's life, be patient. That doesn't mean you can't ask questions, but know that we try our best to protect you and ease you into it all, or you will simply either become too overwhelmed and want nothing more to do with it all, including Sam. Or you will become crazy. *He smiled apologizing* We're just trying to protect you, that's all.. and protect Sam. Sophie: *She nodded soft* I understand... and I really appreciate both the hospitality and the fact that you are trying to protect me.Andy: *He took a sip of his beer, then leaned his head against Evan's shoulder, but only for a moment, then he sat back up straight, looking a bit questioning at Sophie* Do you have a problem with us? *he pointed between Evan and him* I mean, probably not with the gay thing, since you aren't wrinkling your nose yet *he snorted* but the poly thingSophie: .... no, why would I?Andy: Well a lot of people do... Sophie: Yes, I'm sure of it *she shrugged lightly* But I don't think it's anyone’s business but you, what kind of relationship you want to have. Beside I can't see anything wrong in it at all, as long as it's a healthy loving relationship. I don't know you guys yet, but so far, all I can say is, I can see where Sam gets his loving nature from *she smiled soft* Andy: Sounds a bit like you have a crush on him?Sophie: *She shook her head lightly* Nooooo... Evan: *He couldn't help but chuckle* Andy: That didn't sound very convincing *he chuckled hoarsely* Sophie: I'm gay too, Andy *she smiled soft, then tabbed her finger against her shot glass* May I have another one, perhaps?Andy: *He grinned wide* Gay AND she drinks? *he looked at Evan still grinning wide* I could become a Sophie fan Sophie: *She laughed softly* You'll have to share with Sam though Andy: Kinda already do *she smirked as he filled her shot glass, and poured one for himself as well* I mean.. I'm boyfriend of Adrian too! *he grabbed his shot glass, winked, then quickly drank it* Sophie: *She couldn't help but chuckle as she picked up her glass and drank it* ...... yup! I'll definitely need some time to wrap my head around who dates who! *They stayed outside for hours, talking, drinking.Evan eventually went to bed, but even if it was just Andy and Sophie left, they didn't stop till they were both way past drunk* Sophie: Sshhhh *she giggled as she tried to climb up the stairs* You'll wake up everyone elsssshhAndy: *He snorted amused, trying his best to keep a hand on her back for support, and an attempt to push her upstairs* I'm trying to help you! Sophie: *She tried her best not to break into a loud laughter, but ended up sounding mostly like a balloon, slowly letting air out* Andy: Walk woman! *As he finally managed to guide her back to her room, they both stumbled through the door, making a lot of noise* SshhhhHHhsshh! *he chuckled hoarsely, then tried his best to guide her to the bed* Sophie: *She bumped down on the bed straight away, kicking her sandals off before laying down on it*..... Andy.....Andy: Mh? *he said as he looked down at her* Sophie: .... nah.... itssssh okay.... *she waved a hand in the air* Andy: What? *he chuckled soft* S-ssshophie? *he said teasingly* Sophie: .... I don't want to be alone right now *she frowned soft* but I don't want to call Sssham... Andy: ..... *he turned around looking at the door behind him* ...... yeeeee-ah... that's too long a trip for me to make right now... *he turned back around to face Sophie* is the bed big enough for two people? I'm 100% gay... Sophie: *She snorted soft* Me too!*She padded her hand on the bed next to her* Itsssh a double.... Andy: *he chuckled hoarse and quickly crawled over her, letting his tired body flop down next to her on the bed* It's gonna be alright... I promise... Sophie: *she nodded soft and rolled to her side, so she could better look at him* Thank you. *she smiled soft* Andy: Thank you for helping Sam Sophie: *She sighed soft and relaxed, then her eyes slowly closed, and she was fast asleep only minutes after. And so was her sleeping buddy*

#Raven McKinney #Brandubh McKinney #Sophie Swan #Andycorn #Andy Shaw-Thompson #unicorntales

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johnbroutledge · 4 years

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fyeahbuddie >>> kelly-severide

rambling about fandom/the future of this blog under the cut.

first things first, cause i know it’s gonna be a question: no, i am not leaving 911 fandom. i still love the show and i will still be talking about it and creating things for the fandom.

that being said, a lot is going to change. to be completely honest, i haven’t been happy with my tumblr in a while. i’ve been doing a lot of stuff because i feel like i should, because i think it’s what people want, and not because its what nikki wants and it’s high time i quit doing that. i’m a people pleaser by nature and i genuinely would rather be miserable myself than upset or disappoint other people, and honestly, that attitude re: fandom is making me hate it.

i’ve put a lot of pressure on myself in this fandom. i felt obligated to gif every new episode and to liveblog and to keep everything up to-date as best i could. i reblogged everything i was tagged in without question, even if if was something that i maybe, personally, wasn’t all that interested in. even when i’d already reblogged 15 of basically the same thing, even when people who don’t follow me and have never spoken to me started tagging me in things and never interacting with me otherwise. i took every single request. i never wanted to be the person who said no.

i was miserable.

i literally measured out every single post i made, did i post enough 911? is that too many posts about other fandoms in a row? did i an answer an ask in a way that could possibly upset someone? am i taking too long to respond, will people think im an asshole who ignores them?

it was around christmas i guess, i was sick as fuck with covid and i was in bed, going through multiple daily panic attacks about my health and rather or fucking not i needed to be in the hospital, and still beating myself up about the fact that i hadn’t made gifsets, that i realized how awful my experience had become.

don’t get me wrong, y’all, please, i love every single one of you. i am so fucking eternally, crazy grateful that 900 of you decide to be here everyday. but i can’t do this anymore.

as some of you know, ive been struggling with writers block and it’s one of the big things that i’ve wanted to work on getting through this year. the thing that got me through covid and christmas was this incredible special outer banks fic idea that @daisiesandmoonlight and i have built, that i love so incredibly much, but i literally have talked myself out of even trying to write it because i felt like my first fic back into writing had to be buddie.

i’m over that too. so, here’s how the future looks for this blog.

-this blog is multifandom. completely. it will no longer be 99% 9-1-1. i will still be posting/talking about, and creating things for 911 fandom, but it is no longer my sole priority. my interaction will probably go way down as incorporate my other fandoms in earnest. -i will be making gifs, but when i want to, for what i want to. i will no longer be holding myself to a strict “i’ve gotta live gif every episode” schedule. i will no longer be taking every single request. in fact, i will most likely not be doing 95% of what was in my inbox pre covid. i just, i don’t have the inspiration for it. those of you who have asked for requests via discord, i will still be doing yours for sure. -i will not be reblogging every single thing im tagged in, if it’s not something im personally into, if im overwhelmed or i feel like there’s just been too much going on, i won’t be reblogging. im sorry, y’all. i really am, i love you and i love being this positive light who always hypes people up, but my tags are insane, especially on show nights, and it’s honestly too much a lot of the time. -if it inspires me, im going to let it. if that means i post 8 gifsets from one fandom in a row, or my first fic back into writing isn’t buddie, that’s okay. -i will be adding admins to @thebuddielibrary to help take the stress off there. hopefully that is a positive growth for that blog as well <3 -i will continue to be a positive blog in all my fandoms. i will still not be interacting with drama or ship wars or ship or character bashing. that isn’t me and it’s not the vibe i want to cultivate on my blog.

basically, i’m prioritizing my own self for once. i’m cultivating a blog that makes me happy. i don’t know what that looks like yet, honestly, but im going to find out. and i love all of you, but if you no longer want to follow me, i completely understand. you’ve all gotta shape your own experiences too, and i get that.

in short: this may not be my final form, but it is my first evolution. thanks for listening guys. and thanks for being here. tagging some mutuals so maybe i wont get lost.

@ashavahishta @maygrant @taylor-kelly @briinstardust @sopheliza25 @bvckleydiaz @burzekbrettsey @gilbxrt-blythe @selenaurrr @matan4il @tylerhunklin @deareddie @doctornineandthreequarters @buttercupbuck @hennwilson @siriuslyjamie @tarlosbuddie @whattarush @evanbuckleyed @evaneddie @herodiaz @nymika-arts @firefighter-diaz @maurawrites @malikjavaddzayn @captaincasey

im sure i forgot someone so please signal boost this!!!

#important #url change #nikki please shut up #nikki.txt

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writing-gifts · 4 years

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okay im back with the 7th part of the incubus!doppio au! this chapter is really long compared to the other ones!

also I made the decision to make reader asexual in this story, I mentioned it on my blog already but saying at again since it’s mentioned this chapter. so there definitely wont be any smut in the future

AO3 Link

List of parts

@wasabi-mommy @mistabrainr0t @the-average-mastermind

-----

It’s been 2 weeks since you last saw Doppio. He was most definitely avoiding you since you snapped at him, kind of. You realized you had upset him right after it happened too, but you didn't expect him to stop visiting because of it.

So when you weren't at work or trying to socialize with coworkers, you were by yourself. Being alone wasn't necessarily bad, but the whole time you'd end up dwelling on Doppio and stressing yourself out.

You tried to consider the positives, which there was one; Diavolo hadn't shown up either. But still, you missed your friend. And at this point, you were fed up with your thoughts going in circles. So instead of moping around your living room today too, you decide to go to the only other person you know nearby.

Retracing the steps you took with Doppio to get back home after your visit with the local witch--Was he the only witch in this area? You didn't know--you find your way back to the clearing in the forest with the giant lake and cabin.

Bruno looks surprised to find you at his door but lets you in. “I wasn't expecting you to come back.”

You shrug.

"By the way--" he says, "--it would be best not to wander too much in this forest. Many fae reside deeper within it and we don't want you running into any of them."

You nod since you didn't plan on going anywhere you hadn't been shown before anyway.

The comfortable looking couches around the fireplace are just what you need after that long walk. But as soon as you fall back into one of the loveseats, something sharp pricks your ass.

"Ow!" You shoot up and turn around. "What the hell…?"

A small pin you hadn't noticed was already occupying the seat. You pick it up and when Bruno sees what's in your hand he sighs.

"Okay, which one of you did it?" He sounds exasperated but stern.

There's no response and you wonder if the witch is talking to himself.

His brows furrow and he frowns, clearly frustrated by something.

He takes the pin from you. "Sorry about that ____."

"Uhh, it's fine? Accidents happen." You make sure there's nothing else in the seat and sit down. "...Who were you talking to?"

"My kids."

"You have kids?" You have never heard any noise or seen anything in the house that would imply that. Were they hiding?

Bruno drops the pin in the drawer of the small, wooden table next to the couch. He then takes a seat in the loveseat across from yours. “Well in a way. It's more like I just let them reside here.”

You were still confused but Bruno continues speaking before you can inquire more.

"Why'd you decide to visit?"

"I'm going to be honest. I was feeling a little lonely."

"No visitors?"

You rub at your arm and your slight frown becomes a full pout. "Yea…"

You didn't even have a certain cat anymore to help break the silence at home. Of course you weren't going to admit that part.

"Well that's not necessarily a bad thing."

"No. I already told you I want Doppio to stay with me, so it actually is."

Bruno hums. "I'm just trying to help you ____."

"You think you're helping me? Things don't have to go your way you know."

The witch looks completely unfazed by your words. “One day you'll understand and hopefully without you getting hurt.”

You deeply exhale. Talking to Bruno reminded you of a brick wall and you couldn't even find it in you to get mad.

"Wow…"

He raises a brow. "What?"

“You're stubborn as hell.”

"The same goes to you."

The two of you are quiet after that and the witch watches you. You felt like he was trying to see into your head and it made sitting still hard.

“Do you need something?” you ask.

“You're the one in my house ____.”

“Yea but you don't have to stare so hard...”

“You came here for another reason. Tell me.”

Caught off guard you take longer than usual to respond. You didn't know how Bruno could tell but it was best if you just said what you needed to instead of beating around the bush.

"Okay...I did. I was wondering about the exorcism, but not for Doppio--for Diavolo." You look down at your lap. "Do you think it's possible to exorcise him without hurting Doppio? I'm not even really sure how their whole situation works to be honest.”

You look to Bruno wondering if he had any answers.

"....A demon possessing a demon--that's what's most likely happening."

"Huh? That sounds strange."

"It is very peculiar, but I can't say it's impossible. So maybe there's a way to do an exorcism like you wanted."

Bruno's familiar swims by, above the fireplace and his eyes follow the eel. "Leone told me you two don't get along," he mentions.

"Me and Diavolo? Well yea. I'm sure you know he wants to kill me."

"Yes." His eyes land back on you. "That's why I'm not completely onboard with your idea."

"Okay but don't you think it would be better to at least get rid of one demon who definitely wants to hurt me instead of none?"

"I can't guarantee it; there's a chance it won't work and we'll only piss him off. Then you'd possibly be in more danger. It would make more sense and be much easier to get rid of both of them."

You frown but you weren't giving up. "Diavolo already has it out for me though. So not trying because of that is kinda pointless."

The rebuttal you just gave was weak and you weren't sure you could come up with anymore. So the longer Bruno takes to reply the more nervous you become.

"Listen, I'm not saying I'll do this but I'll at least look into it," he finally says.

You perk up. Even though you couldn't say he seemed convinced, you could at least work with it!

"T-Thank you! I'll even help!" You stand up eager to start. "Where do you want me to look first?" you ask.

From then on, you spend your off days at Bruno's home looking for any information about exorcism within his many books. A lot of which were in languages you didn't understand.

Surprising to you, Bruno turns out to be pretty good company when he isn't actively trying to get rid of Doppio. And you quickly find yourself enjoying coming over. It was the perfect distraction too.

You also now had the chance to really take in how cool the witch's house was. It felt like you were at the aquarium whenever you walked through it! So at first, you did a lot of that whenever you needed a break. Bruno's familiar which you found out was named Angeela, would swim along with you and keep you company. And even though there were no other fish it was still really relaxing.

But soon, strange things started to occur. Doors closing behind you. Items falling on top of you. It happened one too many times and started to freak you out so you brought it up with Bruno. It seemed to stop right after that though so you shrugged it off and decided to focus more on researching from then on.

During one of your visits, you focus a little too hard and accidentally end up staying too late. And there's no way for you to traverse back home safely so Bruno insists you stay in the spare guest room.

After dinner, you're ready to quietly head to bed for the night, but while you're cleaning your face, Abbacchio walks into the bathroom.

You raise a brow at the cat. You'd only seen hints of him this whole week. "What the hell?"

"Is there a problem?" The cat jumps up on the counter barely looking your way.

"Yea, you just walked in here without warning. What if I was changing you weirdo?"

"Then you wouldn't have left the door cracked open."

You roll your eyes and go back to what you're doing. "Where did you even come from?"

"None of your business. You don't want me around you anyway so it shouldn't matter."

"I said my house. I don't care what you do outside of it."

You wash off your hands and grab the tooth brush Bruno gave you. It's quiet except for the sink water running and the sound of you brushing your teeth. But you feel like you have to talk with Abbacchio in the room.

You spit in the sink. “Umm...is there something you need from me?”

The cat’s tail twitches before he answers. “Just making sure you don't do anything stupid."

Your lips purse. You were literally just trying to get ready for bed.

"Okay?" You go back to brushing.

The cat huffs. "You should stop trying to keep Doppio around. You're literally wasting time--"

“Ah, that's why you came in here," you interrupt through a mouthful of foam. You spit. "....I don't understand why everyone keeps doing this.”

"Doing what?" The cat sounds and looks irritated.

"Telling me this and that! I'm going to stay with Doppio and nothing you, Bruno, or Diavolo say is going to chase me off."

You expect to get lectured some more but Abbacchio glares at you. "Please don't tell me you aren't actually in love with him?" he asks.

"What are you talking about? I just want to stay with him because we're friends."

"You barely know him. It must be 'love'...or lust."

You shake your head. "Lust's definitely not it."

Abbacchio tilts his head but you weren't exactly in the mood to explain asexuality right now, especially to a feline, so you leave it at that and go back to brushing your teeth.

He squints at you. “Okay then. You're definitely in denial about your feelings though.”

"Can't friends care about each other--"

"Yes but that takes years. You're ready to throw your safety to the wind for someone you've known for a few months. You need to be careful before this crush gets out of hand."

You let out the most frustrated sigh. "Doppio wouldn't hurt me. I trust him."

"Hmph, you don't even understand this world but you think you know better."

You pause unsure how to respond. You wanted to say something back but he unfortunately had a point. This supernatural stuff was still new to you and you were honestly processing it kind of slowly.

Since you knew you weren't getting in the last word with Abbacchio and you were tired of being scolded by a cat, you rinse off your toothbrush and leave the restroom.

----

You open your eyes and stare at the unfamiliar ceiling for a several seconds before getting out of bed. You forgot to bring a glass of water with you and there was no way you would be able to get back to sleep with such a dry throat. So you creep out of your room.

The blueish glow from the tanks help light your way down the hallway to the kitchen. You see Angeela pass by before turning back and swimming along with you.

You smile before whispering. "Just getting water.”

The eel continues to follow you all the way to the kitchen. You rub at your arms once you enter to fend off the unusual chill in the room. Unfortunately, this was common in Bruno’s home. You suspected a draft problem but the witch didn’t seem to care.

Angeela swims out of view while you hurry and look for a glass so you can get back to your warm bed.

Once you find one in the cupboards, you fill it with water from the sink's tab and quench your thirst before filling it again. You move to leave but stop at the kitchen's entrance and look back at the refrigerator. You might as well eat something while you’re here.

Ready to grab the leftover food Bruno made for dinner, you open the fridge and scream. The glass you’re holding falls from your hand and shatters on the floor. And you slam the fridge door shut.

Abbacchio’s the first to appear in the kitchen. “There better be a good reason you’re yelling!"

“Something in the fridge--A HEAD--I don't know!”

Right after that Bruno rushes in. “What's wrong ____?”

“Something weird in the fridge--a head! I was just looking in the fridge because I was kinda hungry!”

Bruno pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fugo and Narancia come out now!”

A second passes before something phases into form in front of the annoyed witch. Then right after something small and sparkly flies out from behind the dish rack next to the sink. But you've barely registered the second thing cause there’s a little ghost kid standing there!

He had a tealish glow and you could see right through him.

A shiver runs up your spine and you want to run out of this cabin.

“Do either of you want to explain why ____ says they saw a head in the fridge?” Bruno asks. His breath is visible from how cold it's gotten.

The ghost looks down at his feet avoiding eye contact. The glowing light next to the ghost didn’t seem keen on answering either.

“Brats,” Abbacchio says before walking out of the kitchen.

"Narancia t-told me to…" the ghostly child's voice sounds watery and distant.

Bruno sighs before looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

“I...It’s okay,” you lie.

And you guess Bruno can tell because he stares at you strangely before speaking again. “Well I suppose I should introduce you to them since we all are here. This is Fugo." He points to the ghost. "And this is Narancia.”

You risk getting closer to the glowing small creature flying in the air and realize that they look like a shrunken child with wings.

“A...pixie?” you ask. You can barely believe your eyes but should you be surprised at this point?

"I think...I need to go to sleep," you say.

“Okay,” Bruno says, understanding. “Are you sure you're fine?”

“Uh huh.” You’re about to speed walk to the guest room, but remember the glass on the floor.

“Oh wait do you have a broom?" you ask the witch. "I-I'm sorry…”

“I'll take care of it.”

You nod and go back to your room. You wouldn't be wandering around Bruno's home again at night, if you ever stayed the night again that is.

-----

When you open your front door to walk out, you immediately tense up in surprise. Doppio's standing there, holding the key you gave him.

"Doppio!"

" ____--"

The both of you stop talking.

The incubus frowns and fidgets with the key in his hand. "Er ____...I'm sorry for keeping things from you! I really missed you.”

You hum but can't get any words out. For some reason you felt uncomfortable and timid.

“____?”

You clench your hands next to your sides and force yourself to speak. “I shouldn't have said what I did and especially not that harshly. I-I'm sorry and I missed you too.”

Doppio seems to relax but you stand in place awkwardly, struggling to make proper eye contact.

“That's okay ____. I understand why you were upset.”

"Yea but still…"

"Um, is it okay if we hug?" Doppio asks.

His expression is shy but he doesn't look away which makes you smile. You nod and open your arms. Your friend walks into them wrapping his own arms around you and giving you a squeeze. He smells like something sugary but you can't place it.

Once you're satisfied, you let your arms drop and pull away from the incubus.

“Do you want to come inside?”

He tilts his head. “Weren't you heading somewhere though?”

“I can go later. It’s not urgent.”

Doppio nods and walks past you inside. You shut the door and the two of you sit down on the couch.

“So what were you up to the last several weeks?” A question that you hoped would make any left over awkwardness disperse.

“I was on business for the boss.”

“Of course...Maybe he’ll finally stop being so angry with me.”

Doppio looks confused before his eyes widen, "Not that type of business!"

“Oh! What type of stuff then?"

"Um...making sure people stick to agreements. I don't think you'd want me to go into detail."

He gives a bit of a forced laugh. So you move on.

"Hey, you're okay right?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“Like you're not dying or anything? Diavolo said you would just lose your powers, but I just want to make sure.”

“Oh that. Yeah, I'm okay! I don't need sex to stay alive...”

You nod. “I guess I'm still trying to wrap my head around this incubus stuff--well demon stuff in general." You suddenly remember the events that happened at Bruno's house recently. “Actually, supernatural stuff overall. Soooo...just wondering, is it possible to exorcise a demon out of a demon?”

He grimaces slightly. “____, what are you trying to do?”

“I'm just speculating, but maybe we could get rid of Diavolo.”

Doppio's eyes widen. "N-no way. Why?"

”Don't you want to? He's literally leeching off of you.”

You liked Doppio...a lot and you wanted him to stay by your side but dealing with his alter ego frankily sucked. You had been able to tolerate him (barely) but after not having him come in and threaten you for the past couple weeks, any qualms (if there were any to begin with) about getting rid of Diavolo were gone. You just needed to get Doppio onboard.

“I don't know…I know he can be a lot but he's not all bad.”

You stare unbelieving at him. “Doppio, I think you might be codependent. He's literally the worst type of person.”

He avoids your eyes. "Well technically he's not even a person--"

“Demon whatever, he still sucks.”

"I don't think this is a good idea ____. He might be listening right now!"

That wasn't about to stop you. And even though Doppio didn't like to act like it, he had more control over this body than his "boss". The fact that Diavolo hasn't appeared to rip you apart proved that.

“If it doesn't work you can put all the blame on me. He won't hurt his own vessel anyways.”

“I'm not worried about me ____."

You smile a bit at his concern. "If we get this to work then you'll never have to worry about me."

Doppio sighs. "I guess...How are you even planning to do this?”

“Well, I've been visiting Bruno while you were gone.”

The incubus immediately looks disgruntled.

“Don't make that face okay. I actually managed to get him to consider doing things a different way.”

“B-But what if he's just using this as a way to get our guard down?”

“We are just researching. I haven't agreed to anything just yet. I really just want to know if it's possible…And wouldn't it be nice to have your own body?”

Doppio nods but still looks unsure.

“So let's just see what happens?” you say hoping to give him that little push he needs.

"Well if it's just research...it can't hurt to look into it?"

You nod and smile. “Right! I'll let you know if anything comes up.”

#doppio x reader #vinegar doppio x reader #incubus!doppio #plot plot plot #started writing the next part but its hella rough so idk when im updating again #jjba x reader #im excited for the next chapter because froggie #if you know you know #reader insert

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