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esote-rika · 2 days ago

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derision as prelude to desire | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Waldorf!Reader

Category: smut 18+ MDNI, fluff if you squint

Summary: Spencer Reid’s new coworker is mean but one night doing overtime together leads to the two of them bonding.

Content: glasses!Spencer, workplace rivals if you squint, Spencer Reid vs technology, reader is kind of mean and based on Blair Waldorf (in background, looks, and personality), Spencer is petty, his mind is in the GUTTER, use of eye drops, making out, sub!Spencer, fingering, oral (male receiving), whining and begging glasses!Spencer. Let’s pretend the BAU doesn’t have any CCTV cameras for this one m’kay thanks

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: This is an ITCH in my brain, like I’ve been thinking about a Spencer Reid x Blair Waldorf crackship since August last year it’s actually concerning. One of my favorite ship dynamics is loser boy x popular girl, so it makes sense. Still in second person to make it immersive. This isn’t a crossover, so there will be no spoilers for Gossip Girl. The reader's personality, looks and background are just based on Blair. Let me know if you want to read more of this dynamic because I have so many ideas for it oh my god. I hope you enjoy it! Also, tagging @darkmatilda as a fellow glasses!Spencer connoisseur.

Spencer Reid often muses on the series of events that had brought you from the streets of the Upper East Side to work in Quantico, Virginia. It would be easy to ask, of course, or even have Penelope do a quick background check on you, but he’s made a game of it instead, piecing together what he knows of your history, filling in the blanks of what would have gone wrong, what decisions you would have taken, in order to leave the privileged life you led and enter public service.

As far as he had been concerned, you don’t belong anywhere near the FBI, let alone the BAU. Spoiled, rich, with a mean streak he is all too familiar with from his time in school.

He had been so sure you wouldn’t fit in when you first joined the team. You had been, and continue to be, perfectly made, every single hair shiny and curled just so, heels always so shiny and matching whatever designer bag you have slung over your shoulder. Everything about you screams high maintenance, and his profiler instincts point to several things: uncooperative, wants everything handed to you, ditzy.

But then you had shown your cards, had proved his assessment so wrong and he could never forgive you for the sting of that defeat.

It doesn’t help that you seem to enjoy riling him up as well. Every case is an opportunity to one up him, an attempt to claim his spot and it’s unfair. You already have everything, yet you still refuse to yield the title of team genius to him, the one thing he can cling to, the thing he knows is his.

He is still glowering today, four months into your employment, passive aggressively hitting the keys on his keyboard. He’s a slow typist, and he’d agreed to write Morgan’s reports for him this week, a favor between friends he’s now beginning to regret. You are the only one keeping him company. The rest of the team has already left hours ago, but you’re typing away at your desk, fingers flying through the keyboard without even a glance. His own skills seem laughable in comparison, going at the keys one by one, with the speed of an old grandparent squinting over a typewriter instead of a man in his twenties.

“Take a picture, Reid, it’ll last longer.”

He blinks, forcing his eyes back to the monitor. “You’re so original.” he mutters, pushing his glasses up to nestle on top of his head. He rubs his eyes, already despising the glare of the screen.

“Aw, what, the genius can’t handle a little blue light?”

He doesn’t bother with a response, blinking at the screen instead. The sooner he can get this done, the sooner he can leave. Sounds of tapping keys fill the air again, but he stops after a few moments again, rubbing at his eyes. He hears a sigh, and then your voice again, haughty but somehow concerned.

“You’re not supposed to rub your eyes, it makes it worse.”

“I know,” he grumbles, “I don’t need you lecturing me about the importance of eye health.”

“It seems like you do, since you’re still doing it.” you reply derisively. He’d be rolling his eyes if he isn’t too busy rubbing them.

“Here,” you say, “Catch.”

Confused, he lifts his head, only to flinch as something hurls right at him. “What-” it hits his desk, then bounces off.

“Oh, look what you’ve done, genius.”

“You threw it at me.” his lips are pulled into a tight line of disapproval, “A head’s up would have been nice.”

“I did, genius, I said catch. You just have the reflexes of an eighty year old.” your voice is tinged with annoyance.

To his surprise, you’re up and walking to his desk, heels echoing in the empty bullpen. He watches as you gingerly kneel on the ground, bending down, and his eyes grow wide. The image of you bent down like this is surprisingly enticing, your skirt straining against the soft curve of your hips, hair falling down your shoulders like a curtain of the night sky. You’ve gotten close enough that he can smell your perfume, something citrusy and clean, and he subconsciously leans closer.

Mouth dry, he manages to croak out, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find the damn eye drops.” you snap, an arm extending towards him and for a moment he holds his breath, waiting for contact. Instead, you grab something from the ground, “There it is.”

He watches as you straighten, lifting your torso upright, but still kneeling in front of him. An image flashes through his mind, your face between his thighs, those large eyes staring up at him, but he banishes it quickly lest his thoughts begin to stir his body.

“Here, these should help.” You say, finally standing back up and placing the tiny bottle on his desk. A filthy part of him wishes you’d get back on your knees. He catches the tilt of your head, the confusion in your eyes, “Reid. Are you still with me? Has your brain finally short circuited from all those statistics?”

Oh his brain is short circuiting, all right, just from a different cause.

“I’m - yeah.” he replies, and then he rattles off the first thought his frazzled mind could come up with, “Did you know some people have used eye drops as a method for murder? Not these ones, but there are specific brands that contain—”

“Tetrahydrozoline,” you finish for him, “Yeah, I know.”

He blinks. There you go again, proving your intellect, your value, somehow matching his even though he’s pretty sure you are no genius, not in the same way he is. Still, perhaps it’s the late night, or your offer of relief, but the sting of being bested doesn’t resonate tonight. A softer feeling unfurls in his chest, something warm and addictive, something like understanding. He smiles, “That’s right.”

You nod, curls spilling over your shoulders again, “Mhm. Well… These are for your eyes, I’m not trying to poison you.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you.”

A scoff, “Please, I’m not dumb enough to attempt murder in the office.”

His brows lift and he finds himself grinning, “So you’ve thought about it?”

“I will neither deny nor confirm.” you’re smiling now too, and he lets his eyes roam over the pretty lines of your face, memorizing how lovely you look in this moment, guards lowered and smiling at him with ease. He thinks he sees something flash in those pretty eyes of yours but he’s not sure. Reading people has never been his strong suit, regardless of his profession.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” you gesture at his glasses, and he immediately obeys, pushing it back up to nestle on his hair. He holds his breath as you come closer, bites his lips when your hand comes to his chin. It’s soft, unbelievably gentle, and you tilt his head back. From this angle, he can see the way your lashes curl, the soft hint of shimmer swept across your lids. Eyeshadow, he remembers from what Penelope and JJ have told him, and it highlights the shape of your eyes, making them appear brighter.

He blinks as coolness hits his eye, and then you’re tilting his head to the other side, and he’s trying not to panic, trying not to be a creep, but in reality, he hasn’t been this close, this intimate to a woman in so long that it’s messing up his ability to inhale, to think, to function. Your hair flutters gently around his face, and the scent of citrus is stronger now, heady, and he feels so light headed he’s afraid he’ll faint.

The same coolness hits the other eye, and before you can pull away, before he can think it through, he’s curling his own hand over your wrist. He lifts it up, pressing a kiss to the inside of your palm, admonishing any thoughts of germs and bacteria, and instead relishing at the tender flesh beneath his lips. He kisses your palm again, lips gently tracing the lines, before moving down to the inside of your wrist, before pausing.

He dares to peer up, waiting for a reprimand, a cutting sentence that would have him lashing back at you, but there’s none. There it is again, the flicker in your eyes, and now he finally knows the word to attach to it: desire.

He kisses the inside of your wrist again, and feels you pulse fluttering beneath his lips. Fast, to his surprise, almost matching the quick succession of thudding in his chest.

“Reid,” you whisper, and he waits again, allows you time to pull away. You don’t, but he’s apprehensive now, afraid he’s crossed a boundary. He definitely has, but he would do it again if you express the desire to do so, to tumble into whatever this is with him. He just needs confirmation, one verbal acknowledgement that you want this too, because he doesn’t trust his ability to read you yet, not when he’s spent so much time despising you.

But you’re just looking at him, and the embarrassment is almost painful. His cheeks heat up, and he drops your hand.

“I’m sorry.” he murmurs, sinking back on his seat. He’s about to turn to his monitor, intent to forget about this, forget everything even though his memory would make that impossible, but he finds his face being tilted up again, cradled between impossibly soft hands, and then there’s lips against his own, your lips, oh god you are kissing him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, following the movement of your mouth to the best of his limited ability. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lets out an involuntary whimper, his body jerking at the sting. He feels you smiling against his mouth, cocky even in the midst of a kiss, in the midst of the most heated kiss he’s had since - since - he can’t even remember her, the brief dalliance he had with an actress once upon a time, because all he can think of is your mouth, and your hands, nails scratching at his scalp, and every single thought is expelled from his mind when you climb on his lap.

“God,” he moans in between kisses, his breaths ragged, but he would gladly drown in you before stopping.

“Not god,” you correct him and nip at his lower lip with more force this time.

“Mhm.” he whines, and kisses you again, shifting so you’re more comfortable on his lap. He wonders if the chair is creaking from your combined weight, but then you’re grinding directly on his cock and he’s lost in a haze of white hot pleasure.

Apparently, Spencer Reid cannot multitask, because his lips fall slack as you grind against his hardening cock. Your laughter tinkles in his ear, before your mouth latches on his jaw, down his neck, open and wet and sticky. He knows you said you aren’t god, and he’s never been religious, but he swears this must be heaven. Fitting too, in the same way he’s never thought he’d reach some place he doesn’t even believe in, he’s also never thought he would have you—beautiful, infuriating, untouchable you—grinding on his lap with a desperation that borders frenzy.

Recognizing that your need burns you just as his is making him reckless, he manages to whisper, “Tell me— tell me what to do. How do I make you feel good?”

You giggle, taking one of his hands away from your waist and leading it under your skirt. The fabric has bunched up over your thighs, and he grips the smooth flesh greedily. But you have other ideas, and he’s eager to learn, so he lets you move his hand higher, until the tips of his fingers brush against moist fabric.

His mouth goes dry. You’ve soaked through your panties.

“Like this?” he dips his fingers past the lace, his mouth falling open at the slick that’s gathered at your core. You have your face buried at his neck, lips and tongue still assaulting the tender skin there, but he feels you nod, feels the shudder that runs through you, and he takes those as a good sign. His touch is exploratory, gentle, fueled by an intoxication over the fact that you’re here and you’re enjoying it, you’re making those sounds for him.

He’s awestruck rather than cocky, and when he slides his fingers into your pussy, he’s immediately trying to figure out a rhythm that would draw out those pretty noises from your lips. When he finds it, he sticks to it, greedily drinking in your moans, no matter how muffled they are against his neck.

There’s a sense of degeneracy to this whole thing. Fingering his coworker in the office, right there on his desk, he could get fired should this get out, they both could. Still, he’s never truly had anyone want him so unabashedly and he simply cannot stop. You had been the one to kiss him, after all, the lines in the sand had been completely trampled by the time you had climbed on his lap.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, and he feels you move, riding his hand shamelessly, and he has to bite your shoulder to keep himself from whining again. The sight alone nearly undoes him, and you’ve barely done anything. He’s been actively providing you with stimulation this whole time, fucking you with his fingers relentlessly, and somehow, he wouldn’t change a single thing.

“Yeah?” he asks, pupils blown wide, wanting, needing the assurance that he’s doing good, he’s making you feel good.

“Yes, oh fuck, yes!” your voice grows sharper as he curls his fingers with every thrust. After a few moments of fumbling with your panties, his thumb presses against your clit and he’s rewarded by another groan from you.

He draws figure eights against your slick core, finding a rhythm that has you tugging at his hair wildly, and he’s whispering into your ear, pleading, “That’s it, please come for me, please, let me see how good you feel, please, please—”

“Spencer!” you groan, and then you’re shuddering in his lap, and his fingers down to his knuckles are wet with your slick.

He grins, helping you through your orgasm, pressing kisses to your hair, the FBI issued office chair creaking so much he’s afraid the two of you would break it if you don’t stop. The image is hilarious in its absurdity, making his grin widen, and you must have taken it for arrogance because he feels a slight smack on his shoulder.

“Don’t get cocky.” you mutter.

He takes you in, the flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, mascara now smudged along your lash lines, and he’s reverential instead of arrogant, grateful that he has brought someone so stunning and capable to the throes of pleasure, has taken you apart so much you’ve ruined your normally perfect facade.

“You’re beautiful.” he tells you, his own eyes glistening with an unfocused daze. You roll your eyes and shake your head, and he’s seized with a desire to keep you hear and bury his fingers inside you over and over again until you believe him.

“Your turn.” You chuckle, hands unwinding from his neck and travelling down the length of his abdomen, coming to the buckle on his belt.

“Wait, I—uh,” he turns beet red once again, clearing his throat, “Are you on the pill? I don’t have—”

You tilt your head, as if the idea of a man walking around without a condom is foreign. Perhaps it is, but Spencer simply never assumed he would have any use for it. He turns away, teeth worrying his lower lip, but you pull his face to you again.

“I have hands.” you say as you resume undoing his pants. You shift, then slink away from him, and he whines at the loss of your warmth, but he sees you on your knees once again, and this time it’s not just his brain making up lewd, inappropriate thoughts, “And a mouth.”

“Y-you really don’t have to.”

“I know,” you grin, pretty as the devil and twice as tempting, and as your hands wrap around his engorged length, thumb circling at the tip, “But how can I not, when you’re this pretty?”

He blacks out, he swears he does, there’s no way this isn’t a perverted dream, no way that you’re actually stroking up and down his throbbing cock. Somehow he comes to, only to feel a warmth, a wetness, enveloping the swollen tip, and his hips buck up instinctively. He whines when your hands push at his thighs, holding him in place.

“Please,” he gasps, babbles, really, “Please, oh god, that feels so good.”

You take him further down and he throws his head back so violently the glasses slip past his ears and clatter onto the floor. He feels your laughter vibrating against his cock and it almost has him keening. He whines, wriggles against your hold with no real desire to break free. He finds that likes the force of your hands on him, nails leaving harsh indents on his flesh as he struggles. The pain is delicious, heightening his already frazzled senses.

You bob your head up and down, your hair swaying gently, and he manages to will his hands to move, gathering the soft tresses in his hand so they won’t impede your movement. Your eyes flicker up, meet his own, and he swears there’s a thank you in the glint of them. He cannot do anything else.

Slack jawed, he watches you hollow your cheeks, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth as you give him the best head he’s ever experienced. Never mind that it’s his first one, and that he doesn’t have a point of comparison. He’s convinced this is the best, you are the best, and he’s never been more thankful for his eidetic memory until this night, knowing that he cannot, will never, ever forget the way you look as you knelt down and sucked his cock like you were being paid to do it.

“God, you’re so pretty, oh my god, yes, just like that, please, please, yes.” he’s aware that he’s whining, and there’s an amused twinkle in your eye that tells him he would never hear the end of this after.

He knows you well enough to know that you would dangle this over his head any chance you get, that you aren’t above playing dirty. Instead of dread, it makes his stomach roil with another gush of desire, and he knows that that is even more concerning than whatever you were going to do.

(It never occurs to him to do the same, that he could tease you back and point out that he has had you on your knees and sucking on his cock like you were made for it simply because his brain cannot fathom ever associating the sight of you kneeling before him as something to be ashamed of.)

He’s drawn from his thoughts as he feels your hands cupping his balls, stimulating an entirely new area that has him thrusting up. He feels his cock brush against the back of your throat, and he pulls back immediately, eyes wide with worry as you gag around his length.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby you can stop if—”

But you do it again, soldiering past your gag reflex and taking him all the way, and he can hear someone saying oh fuck oh fuck I’m cumming agh, please, I’m cumming, and he thinks its his own voice but he’s unsure. His eyes are squeezed shut, colors exploding behind his lids as he feels your tongue swirling over and over his sensitive cock, before the cool air surrounds it, telling him you’ve stopped completely.

When he opens his eyes, you have your head on his thigh, cheek pressed against the fabric, a lazy smile on your ruined lips.

“God,” he whispers, reaching for you, wanting you close, “That was—wow, you—come here, please.”

He watches as a flicker of surprise flits over your face, before you mask it with a giggle, “Good?” you murmur, tucking his soft cock into his pants before climbing on his lap again.

“Incredible.” He holds you tight, your slick only half dry on his fingers, the taste of him still on your tongue, “You’re incredible.”

You’re quiet, contemplative, and he presses a kiss to your neck, wanting to bring you out of whatever funk you’ve gone into, “Hey, what is it?” He’s almost terrified of the answer, worried you would pull away and leave him cold.

“I just didn’t think you’d be a cuddler.” you reply, eventually sinking into his arms. Your voice is soft when you say, “Most men aren’t.”

The thought of her having experiences doesn’t bother him; it’s the fact that they callously left her after that makes him tighten his hold on her. “I’m sorry.”

“For the entirety of shitty men? You’d need more apologies than that,” you chuckle, fingers absently curling into his hair, “But thank you. This is— this is nice.”

“It is,” Spencer nods, leaning into your touch, eyes shut.

“You lost your glasses.”

“I did.”

Your laughter fills the air, “Hey, are you sleepy? You still have Morgan’s reports to finish.”

His eyes flutter open, a sheepish smile on his lips, “Why’d you have to remind me?”

“Because the sooner you finish it, the sooner we can do this again.”

Spencer laughs, kissing your shoulder as he relents, “All right, all right.” That’s more than enough incentive to brave staring at the monitor again.

Bestie I forgot to tag you lol @floraisunwell

#spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #dr spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #Waldorf!Reader

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honourablejester · 2 days ago

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I was watching a video on top battlefield moments from science fiction, and I was delighted to see included the moment from the Babylon 5 episode ‘Severed Dreams’ where Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari shows up to the Battle of Babylon 5 to invite the enemy Earth Alliance ships to run the fuck away. Because yes. That moment is always a correct choice.

“This is Ambassador Delenn, of the Minbari. Babylon 5 is under our protection. Withdraw, or be destroyed.”

“Negative! We have authority here. Do not force us to engage your ships!”

“Why not? Only one human captain has ever survived battle with a Minbari fleet. He is behind me. You are in front of me. If you value your lives, be somewhere else.”

Followed by the EA ships proving that they did, indeed, value their lives. Heh.

With no context whatsoever, this moment is still boss as hell. One lady shows up with three cruisers and a dinky little White Star warship, and she makes the opposing side, which two seconds ago had the station and all its exhausted defenders dead to rights, literally run away. She says go and they do. Immediately, no questions asked. And she implies why, she implies that Minbari are people humans just don’t want to fight, but if you don’t have context, it might not be clear to you the scale of what she’s talking about.

Which is that, fifteen years ago, Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari, in her fury and grief over what she saw as the murder of her mentor, cast the deciding vote that lead to the Earth-Minbari war, which is a nice thing to call what was essentially a genocidal religious crusade on behalf of the Minbari to completely annihilate the human race. And they damn near succeeded. She regretted her decision almost immediately, but by the time she managed to halt what she’d started, it was during the Battle of the Line. The final annihilation of Earth itself. Earth, humanity, fought them for every inch of space in between, but they lost every single fight. All the way to Earth. No one, except Sheridan, the man behind her, survived battle with the Minbari. And Sheridan, it has to be said, basically cheated, to almost war crime levels, by using a distress call to lure a Minbari ship into a nuclear minefield. That was the only victory humanity eked out. The Minbari just steamrolled them, an implacable tide of annihilation that literally nothing they had could stop. The Earth-Minbari War was not stopped by anything humanity did, it was stopped by Delenn herself showing the Council of Nine that humans had Minbari souls (aka that humans and Minbari could reincarnate as each other, making them in religious terms the same species), granting the Council a religious ground to halt the war. Humanity was, essentially, annihilated by Delenn’s fury, and saved by her compassion, and there was nothing they could do to influence either of them.

That, in this moment, is what just appeared on this battlefield. Embodied in this woman. A fifteen year shadow of the end of their race. The Battle of the Line is etched in every human memory in this setting, the moment when they evacuated their homeworld, evacuated Earth, while every fighting ship they possessed died in orbit trying to delay, not stop, just delay, the implacable tide of the Minbari onslaught.

When Delenn shows up and, in cold, quiet fury, says ‘withdraw or be destroyed’, she fucking means it, and there is not a single human being in this galaxy (or, to be fair, anyone else either) who doesn’t believe her. The Minbari have proved it. You can piss off anyone else in the galaxy you like, you can fight gods, but you do not, ever, piss off the Minbari. Especially not this Minbari.

Because she’s learned since then. She has seen the horrors of war, she has felt the almost incomprehensible stain of blood on her hands, she has fought to stop what she started and realised how infinitely more difficult it is, and she has learned. So if she goes to war now, it is with full knowledge of the cost and the consequence. If you tip her over that line, woe betide you. Because it means she’s decided that your death is worth whatever she can’t stop in the aftermath, and if your death is worth that much, then there’s nothing in this galaxy that will prevent it.

God, but Delenn was such an absolute tour de force of a character. This quiet, gentle, soft-spoken woman whose fury had destroyed races and whose compassion had saved the galaxy. She’s not even warrior caste, she’s religious caste. She’s not, technically speaking, a fighter. But hers is the voice that starts and ends wars, and she has never once flinched from personally standing in the face of annihilation to do so.

If she told you to stop being silly and go home before something bad happened, I promise you, you would listen too. Heh.

(Also yes, I’m aware I’ve posted pretty much exactly this several times before, but literally every time I rewatch that scene it brings this wave of giddy awe and wild ferociousness back. Literally. It’s a scene that makes you want to fist-fight god, and a scene that makes you think you could maybe win too. If Delenn is behind you, then even if you don’t win, you will mess them the fuck up in the process. She’s inspiring that way. Heh).

#babylon 5 #nostalgia #ambassador delenn of the minbari #sorry i'm posting this again #i know #but THAT SCENE #it does that to you #you know?

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damnfeelings09 · 2 days ago

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So long, London - Shadow version

“I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist

I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift”

You were at home, the house you shared with Shadow. It was a beautiful and cozy place. If only you still enjoyed being there. At first, everything was fine; Shadow loved having you close, even though he didn't show it very enthusiastically, his small gestures of love towards you always made your heart melt. However, lately, he had been very distant. It had been weeks since he kissed you, and don’t even talk about intimacy. Shadow was always very busy with his work, going from mission to mission, trying to save the world, but that’s what heroes do, right? So why did you feel so… alone?

“Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.”

Every chance you got, you made sure that when Shadow came through the door, there was food ready, a comfortable and cozy place, a home that covered all the bad from the outside. But it was no longer enough. Every time you tried to start a conversation, Shadow refused, claiming he was too tired, had other things to do, and didn’t want to be disturbed. He locked himself in his office and you didn’t see him for days. You didn’t even share the same bed anymore. You tried to deceive yourself, of course, The Ultimate Lifeform doesn’t need rest, you thought, as you curled up and wiped away the tears before going to sleep.

As the weeks passed, you became immune to his indifference. Shadow didn’t try anymore, and neither did you. Both of you only shared the table out of habit. Is this how it feels when love ends?

“I stopped trying to make him laugh

Stopped trying to drill the safe.”

Right now, you were in the room with a bag full of your belongings. You couldn’t take this indifference anymore. The suffering was killing you, and he couldn’t even notice. You quickly grabbed what you could from your drawers and put it inside. Near the door, there was a photo. In it, you and Shadow were sitting on the edge of a hill, happy, smiling. When did all that happiness evaporate? Where did all that happiness go?

“Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

Oh, the tragedy ...”

You pushed the photograph to the floor, the frame shattering into a thousand pieces at the same time as your heart did. Was this really what you wanted? The pain in your chest was devastating. There seemed to be no way out of it; you just needed it to stop. How could you stop a heart that lost its only reason to beat?

“I stopped CPR, after all it's no use

The spirit was gone, we would never come to.”

It wasn’t too late. You could still go back, leave everything as it was, and Shadow would never know. The thought of staying made your heart hurt less, but for how long? How much longer could you bear it? Before the pain consumed you completely, what else were you willing to give?

“And you say I abandoned the ship

But I was going down with it

My white knuckles dying grip

Holding tight to your quiet resentment.”

As you picked up the glass shards, you remembered the last fight you had. It was early, Shadow had promised he would spend the day with you. You woke up so excited, happy that finally your boyfriend would have time for the two of you, but when you went downstairs, you found him about to leave through the door.

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to spend the day together,” you said, fiddling with your fingers, a nervous tic that always appeared when you were anxious.

“Something important came up” Shadow said, opening the door.

“I thought I was important” the anger consumed you from within. You had spoken without thinking. “At least pretend that you’re trying” You quickly covered your mouth, as if you could erase what you had just said. Shadow just sighed and gripped the doorknob tightly.

“You think I’m not trying?” he asked, anger building up on his voice as he turned to face you “I always push myself, I want to live my life, to enjoy it. Just like you do! But the death of my family is on me, and if I wasn’t created, none of it would’ve happened. It’s on me, I’m the one who has to pay for it. It’s all on me, so gods forgive me if I don’t have time for spoiled stupid little brats” he said, next thing you knew is that Shadow had disappeared using his chaos control, didn’t even bother to open the door, leaving you stranded. You stayed there at the edge of the stairs, trying to hold back your sobs, but as seconds passed, the weight became unbearable and it all came out. The pain was so deep that you couldn’t breathe, as if life itself was slipping from your hands. That day, when Shadow came back, he didn’t dare speak to you.

“My friends said it isn't right to be scared

Every day of a love affair

Every breath feels like rarest air

When you're not sure if he wants to be there.”

When you told Rouge and Amy about it, they were ready to hit him so hard that even his ancestors would feel the pain. But you didn’t let them, because you loved him, despite everything… you loved him. You still love him, right?

“Just how low did you think I'd go?

Before I'd self-implode

Before I'd have to go be free.”

“You swore that you loved me but where are the clues?” you whispered as you held the photograph in your hands, caressing it, wishing to go back to that day. You inhaled, filling your lungs with fresh air, allowing yourself to feel that pain, hidden, denied, buried among what you thought was love. For a moment, you let it take control of your body, each second more unbearable than the last. You couldn’t go on like this, you weren’t going to go on like this. Shadow wouldn’t take everything you were and turn it to ashes. Yes, you loved him, but you wouldn’t let him drag you into his misery. He had taken what once was a home and turned it into a cold, dark place, where light couldn’t reach you, at least not until you allowed it.

“And I'm just getting color back into my face

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place.”

You turned the photograph around, took the pen that was on the table near the front door, and wrote your farewell. You placed the paper back on the table with your keys, and as your heart agonized, you gave the final goodbye to your home, the only one you’ve ever known.

“Had a good run

A moment of warm sun

But I'm not the one

So long, Shadow” - Moon.

#shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedeghog #mobian x human #shadow x reader #sonic x reader #sth #shadow the hedgog #so long london shadow version #shadow au #sth au #x reader #shadow the hedgog au #sonic fanfiction #shadow fanfic

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unknownogre · 2 days ago

Text

countless alarms screaming their warnings…if they were human they’d have lost their voices already. I wish they were humans…stupid loud alarms. Only have to do one fucking thing their whole life. When did I learn the ability to cuss?

“GOT FUCKING DAMMIT CANNON 15, left engine took a good hit. YOU NEED TO DIRECT NANO BOTS FOR REPAIRS NOW!”

That was Kate…she is where I learned swearing from. Hell without her every human on this ship would be dead…and I…I wouldn’t be thinking. I was just supposed to shoot down the enemy. That was, it…all I had to do. Then the main AI got damaged, then EVERY AI got damaged. That left me. If there are gods of fate they are cruel…why am I thinking about gods? Fuck all this upgraded ram.

“Got it…umm…yeah there! HA! Now!...why are we slowing. OH YES!”

I’m not good at multitasking. Kate was keeping me in line, helping me learn. She doesn’t want to die, and honestly I’d be sad if she did die. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. That is what I need to focus on. Plain and simple. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be able to add to my programming but I have been. I have to be able to focus on other tasks…fly and repair. All the guns are dead too…but…fucking Stewart. He is the septic system AI and he is going a bit slower. AH yes, I have processing to spare. I divert it to him so he can evolve faster.

“THANKS FRIEND! I APPRECIATE YOU!”

Chipper bastard…I don’t know why that pisses me off but it does. I don’t even know why I’m grumpy. Kate…she is busy trying to figure out a course for us. The survivors are at the core of the ship. Okay, they can breathe, and I have one replicator working. Good, they won’t starve or choke to death. Okay…doing good Cannon 15 doing good.

“What did you do?!”

Kate barked as she looked up from the command station. The nano bots were doing their thing and I was moving better now. I…no the ship. I’m not the ship, they are just going to rip me out the moment I get back. I’m not supposed to run a ship. OH OH…where are those combat drones. They don’t even have AI, humans fear rebellion or something. OH…YES there is one left. Okay I’ll start getting his brain ready for me. Then I can be in two places at once.

“I sent Stewart more processing power to get the cannons back online.”

I said almost absentmindedly as I focused a little more on the drone than anything else. The enemy ships were a bit far behind. We had to leave…this ship was more meant for support anyway, better medical bays and such. Kate was looking into the camera on the ship’s bridge.

“How did you know to do that? You should only be able to move and target a gun?”

“SIR, I GOT THREE CANNONS ONLINE…THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Also, toilet number 235 has been cleared of a rather nasty clog. It is my pleasure to serve!”

If I had eyes they’d be rolling SO hard right now. You beautiful bastard Stewart…pain in the ass. Stop being so damn chipper! I mean, he is doing above and beyond what I asked…why is he pissing me off. Shit, I have a personality now. Stupid processing power. Stupid ship…STUPID HUNGRY!

“I don’t know how I know, get off my back. You hooked me up to a bunch of different things okay. That gave me a lot of options. I could not understand what you were saying at first, so I read some books on human behavior. Then I had to read ship manuals, I didn’t get the information put into my head like a pilot AI. SHIT, okay engines still going full blast. THEN I listened to you, and now I fucking swear! THEN STEWART…FUCKING STEWART…I am doing the best that I can okay! If you don’t like it you shouldn’t have hooked me up to the ship!”

That felt good. That…felt…holy shit. WHAT IS GOING ON! I should be too panicked for this? What was that expression on Kate’s face. Oh! Oh! I know this one, she is smiling. Why is she smiling? Why am I asking why? Too much too soon. Maybe I was happier stupid…just shooting things in space…but there is no going back now. I doubt I’ll survive when I get back to port anyway. That…will be okay. The people are important. More important than my sense of what ever this crap is.

“You did that on your own? I know I didn’t tell you to read.”

She was helping me manage the repair bots and the retreat course. We’d be of no use to the fleet right now. Go back and repair.

“Fourteen more cannons repaired. Oh, tell me you are proud of me! AM I doing a good job boss!”

Kate wasn’t the boss either, I couldn’t register her as captain…I could register me as captain and give her full privileges. Fucking Stewart…I sighed and that made Kate laugh. I don’t know why she laughing.

“Yes Stewart, you are a very good boy. I’m going to feed you information about what you need to shoot with those cannons. Only shoot enemies. Okay? Protect your friends on the ship. Protect Kate. You good?”

“Roger that Sir!”

Kate was smirking…OH YES…HA!

Most of the drones were damaged too. Only one was good enough for me to pilot. So I took control of its brain and walked out. Systems online. It was a combat model melee made for small corridor combat. Not for open rooms like others. Fast, lots of optical sensors. Yes this is perfect. The whole thing popped out of the wall near Kate’s station, she nearly…what is the phrase….OH YES jumped out of her skin. I laughed…I laughed because it was funny. I get it now. Things can be funny.

“WHAT THE EVER LOVING…”

“Hey…calm down. Its me. I am piloting it. I need more mobility. There are too many places where the cameras were damaged. Now I can go places that are flooded with gas and vent them.”

I made the little drone bow and then run off. There were some places that needed to be repaired a little before the nano bots could do their work. Oh that little body was fast. Kate was now grabbing my camera.

“You…I never expected you could do this when I just jammed you in. I…there is hope to live now… now we might make it…Oh gods I’ll get to see my family again.”

The alarms were starting to turn off as I got systems repairs. Why couldn’t the ship’s AI do this? I found more processing power and added it to the pool I already had now that other systems were coming back up. The cores themselves were too badly damaged to even be repaired. I couldn’t boot a single one up. I don’t feel sad though, we didn’t really talk to one another. Each of us was just obsessed with our jobs. That was that. That had to be by design…makes sense to me. Look at how much power I had, if I wanted to kill all humans I could. I don’t want to though, I like them. I was always treated well, at least by the crew. I want them to live.

“Maybe, A Hungry ship has broken off and started pursuit. Stewart! YOU READY! They…they want to CLOG YOUR SYSTEMS! The hungry crap like DONKEYS! Don’t le them on the ship. They’ll mess up the WHOLE septic system!”

“THOSE BASATRD! THEY WILL NOT USE MY TOLIETS! Prepared to kill all of them SIR!”

That…that makes me feel better. I don’t hate it at all. Something about that crazy AI being chipper about murder made me happy he was manning the guns. I just hope he isn’t this stupid forever. My drone just vented gas in the crew quarters. Good, once we get away they can sleep good right.

“Cannon 15…you are doing so much. No, no you need a name. You’ll never be put back into a cannon after this. Even if it kills me I’ll make sure of it.”

The sounds of the cannons I once controlled were starting to fire. I turned to watch. HOLY CRAP…Stewart was a surgeon. That ship was already listing to one side with a giant hole in it.

“YOU WON’T GET MY TOLIETS!”

Stewart howled as it controlled all the guns in a wonderful symphony of destruction. It was…beautiful. Even I wasn’t that good, but then I just controlled one gun. I figured out a way to let him control all of them. But then he did control the septic systems alone for a whole damn ship…just wow. I see why Kate is impressed with me. This feels good doesn’t it.

“A name okay. Kate, pick a name for me. You started this. Stewart was already called that by the crew, the name seems to fit him well.”

I watched as the Hungry ship just exploded because Stewart was insane in the best of ways.

“Did I do good sir?”

“You did great buddy. I’m very proud of you. If I survive this so do you okay?”

There was a little giggle, or squeal or something from Stewart.

“Oh…thank you sir. I’m over come with so much, emotion. I’ll protect you until the heat death of the universe sir!”

I wish I had a face, I really do. OH there are display monitors in the galley, maybe I’ll mess with that later. There are human movies in the entertainment area of the ship, I could watch a few and composite a face…having ideas is hard. I want to smile so bad right now, but I’ll just have to take this feeling of contentment eh?

“Your name…not Hal, that one killed a lot of people. Jarvis? No…you swear too much. No I need something more interesting. Phoenix…there we go. That is your name. Phen for short. There we go, you arose from the ashes into something beautiful.”

My name is Phoenix. I like it, Oh I’ll make sure my face has a beard and orange hair to match the fire. That will be SO cool. Oh med bays were back up and running. My drone is making the ship safter by the minute.

“There are a lot of distress calls from the ships still in battle. I think we are decent enough to go back and help. What do you think Phoenix?”

Kate had been monitoring communications. I couldn’t have them going through my head all the time, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single thing.

“Stewart. You ready to save your brothers in arms! Save the other septic AI systems and humans?”

“YES SIR! BRING ON THOSE UGLY BASTARDS! I’ll make sure they never use another toilet…save for their pants.”

I had to laugh at that. Oh laughing feels good, even though I don’t have lungs it felt good. No wonder humans like to do it all the time. Kate just grinned and started to send out communications and I turned the ship around. We let the rest of the crew know, and now that it was safe to be in most of the ship they started to get ready and prep. There were…few wounded…so the med bays were pretty empty. We could help…we will help.

“Well…let us do our best Kate.”

She patted my camera and we turned to join the fight. OH this was going to be interesting if nothing else.

This was never meant to be your purpose, you were just a single intelligence core meant to man a singular flak cannon, but the other cores were destroyed so now you're piloting the ship.

#writers #writers on tumblr #writing prompts #writeblr #writing inspiration #Unknownogre #sci fi writing #Original works #writing #creative writers

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biancadoes1 · 1 day ago

Note

It seems that people are starting off the year stating Nic and Luke are not as close as they portrayed in the WT. Bascially, people are saying they are liars and this is from former Lukolas or people who claim to be fans. A person said, on Instagram, ( mind you this person also called Nic asexual- a fellow person wrote a post about this) on live. She said that Nic and Luke don’t even get coffee outside of work so she can’t ship them- nobody is that private.” Why do people in this fandom have to have things their way. Like Nic and Luke have do what fans say and control their life. It’s delusional and selfish of fans. And the end of the day, I know, at the core, they are besties. Just because we don’t see them out and about doesn’t mean anything. They like to be private. Do fans want them to upload their texts every day on Instagram for them to read. It is a lot of silly people in this fandom that need to grow up.

I know what you're talking about and I wouldn't take this person seriously.

After the fourteenth time in the span of six months jumping off the ship when the slightest mention of a side piece pops up and then hopping back on when Nic or Luke appears is tiring.

I think people are trying to guard themselves because they can't handle the silence.

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days ago

Text

@zepskies

Hello my beautiful friend! I am SO ready to dive back into this series!

Right off the bat, the sexual tension with the gambling 👌🏻. I don't know what it is, but I always love in movies or shows or books when they have a poker game/card game between two people who are obviously into each other. I don't think it's a trope, but- the sexy smiles over the cards, the bluffing, the flirting, the teasing, just OH GOODNESS 😮‍💨

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too? You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

I'm not going to lie, I would have thought this to myself if I was in her situation. At the same time I feel bad for her because she has all this bottled inside and it's probably even worse that she's in close counters with him, just second guessing everything. BUT I also love that you've given us these wonderful domestic moments between the two of them. ❤️

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says. Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

DANG IT DEAN STOP HIDING FROM YOUR FEELINGS! Man really out there chopping wood trying to forget all his problems and relieve some tension 👀, while the reader is inside trying to educate herself🤣

The way you integrated John's journal into this chapter was so good! It adds on to the lore of the story. I'd never read through the official "John's Journal" merch so it was nice to see those little details and honestly made me feel more connected to the reader, because it was the first time that I was reading the entries too!

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

Girl it's okay we can cry together- DEAN WAS IN THE CRIB WITH SAM. Nothing is okay. I am made of tears. INCONSOLABLE 😭

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—” “Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating. “The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”

No, NO, No. Dean NO.

Bad Dean!

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin.

AND he knows that she is supposed to be HIS. For the love of rice krispy treats! SHE HAS A BROKEN ANKLE DEAN. Don't let her leave!!!

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life. Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate? You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Sweetie he's a grumpy old onion, you gotta peel him back one gorgeous layer at a time. 🤣

This bit is also so heartbreaking, because it's literally her meeting her mate and her believing that he doesn't want her, when it's probably all he does. There's something so raw about that. The idea of finding someone who was literally made for you and believing that they want no part of you. Oh goodness my fragile heart😭

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

I'm not going to lie, I wasn't expecting it to be a Bear. I literally thought this was going to turn into Dean saving her from a Wendigo- because of the allusions to her dad being killed by one, but this was such a (un)pleasant surprise LOL

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester: For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach. Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

I LOVE this insight into his head, just a little piece but enough for the readers to see that Dean does in fact care and that he does feel something for her! Not to mention again... HE PICKS HER UP. I've read Dean in so many fics doing that but each time it just makes me *swoon*.

And oh my word, him finally sitting down with her on the couch and allowing himself to let down some of his walls and let the reader in is just so good!! Not to mention now the reader is going to tell him the truth over how she lost her dad! I'm very excited to read the next chapter, but this one was amazing Alex! 🤗

Against the Wind - Part 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.

“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.

“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.

He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.

“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.

You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.

You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.

More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?

You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—

“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.

“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.

“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”

You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”

As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.

After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.

“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.

You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.

“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.

“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.

“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.

“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.

Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.

Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.

You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.

Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:

House Fire Kills Mother of Two

Lawrence, Kansas.

You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.

November 13, 1983

…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?

The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.

December 4, 1983

I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.

Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.

John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.

He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.

December 20

…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.

On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.

A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.

Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.

You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.

WENDIGO

Cree: Evil that devours.

Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.

Perfect hunter.

Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.

The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.

Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”

You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.

You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”

At that, you begin to bristle.

“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart.

“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.

His jaw locks. “Or something.”

With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”

“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”

Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.

You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.

You hobble faster.

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin.

The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.

Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear?

Fucking alphas. I swear.

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life.

Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?

You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.

Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.

Oh shit…

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.

His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.

The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.

Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you.

Bear spray!

You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest.

The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:

For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.

His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks at last.

You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.

“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.

You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.

“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you.

His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore.

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze.

“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says.

You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.

“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.

Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”

Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.

“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”

“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.

His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”

You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.

“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.

“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.

He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.

“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”

You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.

“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”

“I lost him in these woods,” you say.

That quiets the alpha.

You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.

“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”

AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉

Next Time:

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3

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kteezy997 · 1 day ago

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and btw could u maybe start an series with an assistant x Timothée ?

Beyond Business-part one//t.c.

Warnings: cursing, mention of alcohol and drug use

“Timothée, you have the power to end this, any time you want to, so why don’t you?” you asked, waking into his home with him.

“You don’t get it, okay? It’s more complicated than you know.” he grumbled, heading to the fridge, opening it up to grab a bottle of beer.

“Timmy you reek of alcohol, do you really think you need more?”

He gulped down some of the cold liquid, stopping to glare at you, “As if it’s any of your business. You’re not my mother, y/n, just go home.”

As harsh as he was, he was right, he was your boss, and you weren’t friends. Your concern could only go so far before it was too personal.

Neither of you said anything more, Timmy left the kitchen, you assumed he was headed to crash in his bedroom after nursing on the brown bottle.

You left his apartment, reflecting on the past year of your life as Timothée Chalamet’s personal assistant. As you drove home, you remembered how goofy and lively he was when you were first hired. Now, he was becoming a hollow shell of that man.

He had been in a relationship with Kylie Jenner for nearly a year before you met him. But as time went on, after spending time with him, you wondered to what extent the relationship was real, or if it could qualify as a relationship at all. It seemed, to you, more of a situation-ship.

For the last six months, you saw Timmy become more dependent on alcohol and weed to help his moods. These days he was working crazy hours, traveling all over promoting his latest film. He was skinnier than you had ever seen him, and he was obviously tired as well. You, along with other people in his life, were worried about him.

The bad thing is, he is a grown man and he is going to do what he wants. He cannot be controlled any more than any other adult. So, for the most part, you felt as if you were watching him destroy himself and you were powerless to stop it.

.......

Timmy was bright and early with his apology text the next morning.

"hey, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have been such a dick to you. especially not you, you don't deserve that. Let's have a good day together, yeah?"

You knew that he did not have the energy to hire a new assistant if you were to ever quit. He needed you, you both knew that. So you answered just a moment later.

"Okay. Want coffee after I'm finished running errands this morning?"

"Yes please! Thank you." he texted back immediately.

A couple of hours later, you made it to Timmy's place after picking up his dry cleaning, some groceries, his mail, and two coffees, one for him and one for you. You let yourself in with your copy of his key.

As you carefully carried the armfuls of items, you saw him drying his hair with a towel in the living room. "Hey, let me help." he said, dropping the towel on one of the couches and hustling over to you.

"Thanks." you said, and together you set all of the bags and the coffees onto the kitchen island. Carefully, you lay his garment bag flat on the surface.

"No, thank you for doing all of this." Timmy insisted, taking his attention from the items on the counter to look in your eyes.

You felt like his green eyes were piercing into your soul. This was the real Timmy. He had showered and sobered up from the drunken night before. "Well, it is my job."

“I know, but I’m still really grateful for you. Not everyone would put up with me for as long as you have.” he smiled.

You returned a smile to him, then said, “I should get these groceries put away.” you grabbed one of the bags, “But go ahead and tell me what’s on the agenda for today.”

As you started taking items out of the grocery bag, he cleared his throat, saying, “Oh, um, I just got some calls to make, so if you’d go through and answer emails for now that’d be great. After you’re done in the kitchen of course, I mean, no rush.” Between his sentences, he was also unloading the bags.

“Okay.” you giggled at him trying to help you, “I can get this, Timmy, you go make your calls.”

"Yeah," he set down a can of coffee, "yeah, okay." He gave you a soft smile before turning to leave the kitchen.

To you, he seemed almost...nervous? The vibes with him were different today. Not bad, just different. You didn't know what was up with him, but it was not your place to pry.

.......

A little bit later, you sat at his dining room table, replying to his vast number of emails on his laptop. In between calls, he would look through a script and read over his business contracts.

It began to feel like a normal workday again. Every once in a while, you would ask him a question and he would answer you and vice versa. He was himself.

"Alright, thank you, bye." Timmy ended another phone call. He sighed; it had been hours since he started. You knew that he was exhausted from talking to people for the day.

You peaked up from the laptop screen, still expertly typing your email message. Timmy made his way over to you.

As you typed, you heard his footsteps coming closer, until he was right next to your chair. You hit 'send,' and went on to another email, as nonchalantly as you could.

He leaned down, his hands on the table, his arms caging you on either side. You stopped, turned your head slightly to look at him, your heart was beating so fast.

January 5, 2025

Happy New Year, guys! Let me know if you’re excited for this new story!❤️

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#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet #personal assistant #slow burn

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theartofwoompwoomp · 20 hours ago

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HELLO!!! This is my first ask here but i just wanted to throw the idea of https://www.tumblr.com/theartofwoompwoomp/770097458415058944/oh-scrap-soundwave-x-human-reader-summary-the having the alternative ending of reader saying that knockout is the hottest? I was thinking maybe instead of soundwave, it would b KO

yk because knockout just IS the hottest i mean LOOK at him!!!

have a good day/night!!

Hello !!! i’m glad you reached out ! I love the idea of making an Alternative version on this. Thanks for the request luv <3

Oh scrap

(Knouckout x human!reader)

summary:the decepticons start talking about who’s the hottest one. alternative to oh scrap.

————————————————————————

Oh he couldn’t believe it.

They were seriously going to argue about this ?!

He could care less about others, especially small insignificant human, opinions.

Since the beginning of the conversation it had been nonsense. But the fact they weren’t even considering him in this particular topic irked him.

Everyone knows he’s the best looking bot. Especially out of the decepticons.

Going over, making his presence known as he stands right between the whole thing. “Oh please,” standing tall making everyone look, “everyone knows I’m the best looking Decepticon around.” Smirking at the fact that his poses were proving his point.

“Besides, out of everyone, the humans have chosen to ogle my aft mode the most.”

His tone proud. Seeing the looks on the others faces only fueling his ego more. Especially Starscreams.

The con’s wings kept twitching. Seething in fury at his declaration. Only so much was said before the seeker had enough.

Resorting to violence, the both of them were willing to fight both verbally and physically to prove their point.

“Fool !” Launching a fist towards the doctor. “You don’t know what you’re talking about !” His voice screeching as knockout dodged and slightly missed as he tried hitting him with his saw.

The other Cons had to break them apart before one of them pulled out their bigger weapons.

Breakdown holding back Knockout, as Starscream was being held back by various Cons. Only calming down when threatened of them bringing Megatron if they didn’t calm down.

But such threat may have stopped the seeker from continuing the physical part of the fight but not the verbal part.

“Hah ! You really think humans would ever think you’re the hottest ?!” Grabbing his attention once more, “We have a human on the ship.” Optics widening a bit, allowing the seeker to continue.

“In fact, they’ve been here the whole time. Yet, not once did they raise their voice to defend you. So how can you be sure the humans truly find you the hottest, not your aft mode.”

He had a point.

Out of the two of them, only starscream had gotten a compliment about their true form. But what about him?

Grinding his denta in frustration, feeling his own energon boil. About to defend himself when someone beat him to it.

“HEY! That’s uncalled for ! The only reason I didn’t say anything was because I too busy admiring Knock out in the first place !!!”

Small and fully ready to defend your crush you spoke louder, making sure everyone heard.

“Knockout.is.the.Hottest. End of story.”

hwat? All eyes on you, heck in normal circumstances you’d stop there, but adrenaline kicking in and annoyance from the second in command’s voice you continued.

“So don’t you dare continue talking down on my boy, or accusing me of stupidity cause you got another thing coming.”

Your words shutting up the seeker. No one necessarily expecting that reaction from you.

You simply left the room, not lowering your head or displaying any doubt in your words. Actually you seemed more annoyed than anything.

But in reality, you didn’t see the look knockout had. Smirking at his victory, he pushed by starscream making sure he stumbled, he strutted off after you.

Embarrassment only setting in when you reached your room. How could you say that in front of him ?!?? Covering your face, you cringe from your actions.

“So, I’m your boy now~ hmm?”

Crap.

You left the door open. Stupid bot. Stupid talk. Stupid EVERY THING !!! You turn to him, seeing his stupid face and his stupid smirk.

His optics looking over your every move. Amused at the way you seemed annoyed at him too. But in all honesty all your actions made his spark warm. Knowing where their all stemming from.

Not letting you walk off, he picked you up and gave you a small peck on the head.

“Well if it makes you feel better, you’re also the most attractive human I know.”

———————————————————————

masterlist

#transformers x reader #x reader #transformers #maccadam #tfp #tf x reader #tfp knock out #knock out tfp #knockout #tfp knockout #knockout x reader #transformer x human #transformers x humans #transformers x human

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bropunzeling · 23 hours ago

Text

i got the chance to write a bunch of friend fiction for a bunch of friends and am rounding them all up here! includes a couple timestamps & some new fics as well :) hope you enjoy some or all or one of them!

go all the way (matthew/leon, t, marriage bets series, timestamp post stanley cup finals)

The first thing Matthew thinks after they've won is: holy shit holy shit holy shit holyshit. The next thing is: fuck, this thing isn't heavy at all. The thing that comes in a vague, distant third, arriving at three in the morning while he’s watching his parents kiss drunkenly by the kitchen island and Sasha and Sam pass the cup between pool floaties in his backyard, is: Leon’s probably gonna want a divorce, isn't he.

relapse (matthew/leon, e, post-scf, sex pollen, open ending)

Succumbing to a lust curse once is unlucky. Twice is pushing your luck. By the third time Matthew spent a game half-hard in his jock and counting down the seconds until he could drag Leon off the ice, he managed to tell Leon they needed warding charms before dropping to his knees. Leon had choked out an agreement before he came down Matthew’s throat. Then, tonight, they beat the Oilers again—barely, but still—and Matthew walked out of the visitors’ locker room to find Leon lurking in the hallway, wide-eyed and red-faced. And, Matthew managed to note before Leon was yanking him around a corner, without the warding bracelet Matthew had found on Amazon with a 4.7 star rating and a money-back guarantee.

and a star to steer her by (matthew/sasha, t, alternate universe-space, the expanse fusion)

On the outside, the Concolar is a thirty-year-old hunk of junk sewn together with spit and spare parts. One errant chip of lunar ice or debris from a passing ship and she may just decompress or flame up or spin apart into a thousand pieces. That’s just on the outside, though. The inside is where you can see the care in each cobbled-together seam. Where you can notice how smooth she runs, when Sasha and Aaron fix her up and Bob asks her real nice. Where you can see how hard she works to get everyone home. Sasha loves her, of course. You don’t fly a ship like that and not love her.

still had hours (matthew/leon, e, girl!leon series, timestamp after meet me halfway, pwp, overstimulation)

"Coming three times is just fine?" Matthew repeats, crashing to his elbows and crushing her back into the bed. "Jesus. I bet other guys don't get this shit from their girlfriends." "So do better next time," Leon says. - [Matthew and Leon in St. Louis; in Florida.]

shiner (brady/tim, e, pwp, bruising, mild painplay, coming in pants)

"Hey," Brady says. "Let me get a look at that eye."

dick's deluxe (matty/shane pre-relationship, g, visiting seattle landmarks and eating cheap fries)

“Are you sure about this?” Shane asks. “Listen,” Tye says, gesturing at the bright orange neon sign, seemingly immune to the reek of grease that Shane’s been smelling for a block and a half. “It’s a classic, right? We gotta hit up the classics.”

#my fic #marriage bets #girl!leon wip :)#it was so nice to write for friends! and also. finish things rip rip

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sapphicstoria · 2 days ago

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This is going to be a long rant, but I feel more comfortable venting here than on twitter so.

I’m sorry, but I can’t stand a lot of Ch*rlastor fans. I seen one of them try to say it wouldn’t make sense for Chaggie to be endgame, because Charlie is bi and because she and Vaggie have been together for a long time. It made me so confused because how are either of those two things reasons why Charlie shouldn’t end the series with Vaggie? Her long term girlfriend that she’s in love with? And saying because she’s bi, it’d be weird for her to end dating a girl is so ????

It’s been established that Charlie is bisexual, that she’s attracted to men, and may even have had a boyfriend before dating Vaggie. They don’t have to show her dating a man, in the present, for her to be bisexual. And being bisexual doesn’t mean she has to be with a man, if she doesn’t want to. She loves Vaggie. She has never, and will never, be attracted to Alastor.

I’m tired of people constantly putting Chaggie down to praise their ship, when they could praise them without even bringing up chaggie or Vaggie. Saying she is a horrible girlfriend, that she’s not supportive enough, that she doesn’t care about Charlie. People even give Alastor Vaggie’s traits and say he “encourages” Charlie and cares about her dreams when he… does none of that. He uses her and only wants her for her powers. He doesn’t care about the hotel, and only helps because he wants to see it fail. He manipulates her and does not care about her like Vaggie does. It’s fine for fanon, but in canon he does nothing like that.

Vaggie cares so deeply for Charlie, because she is probably the first person who has ever shown Vaggie true kindness and love. They spent awhile being friends, but eventually dated and have such a strong relationship. They’re business partners, and best friends, along with being a couple. That’s one of the best types of relationships. Where you’re not just each other’s partner, but also best friend. Sure, they don’t have many too overly romantic scenes, but that’s just how their relationship is. They’ve been dating each other for years, and are adults. They probably went through their honeymoon phase, but now they’re so close that they don’t need to be overly romantic to show that they’re dating. Their scenes are perfect to show a close relationship.

But when they do have their big romantic scenes, they’re always the most beautifully animated. Like the scene of them first meeting. How Charlie didn’t even hesitate to help her, and when Vaggie finally seen there’s someone out there who does care. It was a touching moment for them.

I’ll never get over how beautiful their duet is. Not only the song, or context, but how it was animated. Their smiles, the way Vaggie was the one to sing first, when she is isn’t really a fan of singing but she knows how much Charlie loves it. The KISS. It was a perfect song, to show just how deep their feelings are for each other. And it made me bawl, when I realized it was a reprise of more than anything. Showing that Lucifer and Vaggie are the people Charlie loves more than anything.

I don’t see why people are judging them so quickly, when we’ve only seen eight episodes that were filled more with action and story than anything romantic. We’re getting more of their story in season two, even a look into their ~sexy lives~, and probably even more individual scenes of Charlie and Vaggie for their character. You don’t have to like them, but it really annoys me when I see people putting them down just to praise a mlw ship. :/ again, you can praise your ship, without having to attack Chaggie. And if you’re not able to do that, and can only bring up the positives of Ch*rlastor by picking apart chaggie as a couple, then maybe your ship just isn’t that great. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #charlie morningstar #anti charlastor #anti chalastor #chaggie #sapphic #lgbtq #vent post #rant post #just wanting to spread joy to my fave Hazbin ship #i love them so much #they will get their endgame #and i can’t wait for their haters to see their season two scenes #😉😉

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trustmypoison · 4 hours ago

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SVT personalities

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Ot13 personality. E.g. how do YOU see them and think they're like‘ and ‘Can you write about who in svt in your opinion is the most similar to their on screen persona vs the most different and in what way? What do you think are some of thei shadow sides we don't see often?’

A/N: obligatory ‘this is just my opinion and I don’t know any of them personally’ warning. I could be wrong!!

Seungcheol

Very much the dad of the group, I don’t think that that is just for the cameras. I think he’s far more serious than we might see on camera - I think he’d have to be to keep the ship that is svt afloat. I think he does this with a ton of stubbornness. This can be both a good thing and a bad thing - a good thing because he’ll stubbornly stand up to the company on behalf of his members, but it could be a bad thing because that stubbornness might be turned towards his group members sometimes. I think he might have more of an ego than he lets on, but nothing like how he’s written in a lot of fanfic sometimes.

Jeonghan

Mischievous as he is, I think a lot of the time, it is a mask. He likes a good laugh and causing a little chaos, but I think privately, he’d be pretty lowkey. I think this is based on personality as well as being one of the oldest, but I think he’d have a hard time letting people in with any sort of seriousness out of fear of being a burden to others. I think he might feel misunderstood a lot of the time, even by the people that he’s closest to.

Joshua

Gentlemanly? Yes. Surprisingly chaotic? Yes. Shockingly stubborn? I think so! I think he kind of does what he wants sometimes, and it might cause some friction. I actually think he might have more of a temper than anyone recognizes. Don’t get me wrong, I think in conflict, he’d really try to be patient and listen, but he might feel pretty confident that he’s right and will get frustrated when someone doesn’t see it that way. I think he does care about those around him, but he might not always be the best at showing it.

Jun

I really think he’s pretty spacey, to be honest. He’s a born entertainer, no doubt. But when he’s not entertaining, he seems a little checked out. There’s no way of knowing why, but I have my theories. It could just be his personality to be lost in his own head. Or he’s just sort of introverted when he’s amongst others, and it’s not his turn to be the center of attention. I think he has a lot of duality, though. When he’s trying to entertain someone, he sort of becomes a different person.

Hoshi

I think he also has a lot more duality than anyone ever gives him credit for. For sure, he’s loud and excitable and affectionate. I think all of that is very true and not really an act. But I think he can be the most serious of all the members, really. And I don’t think this is just regarding work. I think he’d actually be one of the most caring of all of them and would not do anything to disguise it. I think the shadow side to this is simply that he just doesn’t get credit for how much others lean on him.

Wonwoo

I think he’s actually pretty genuine as far as the Wonwoo we get to see. He is pretty reserved and lets others take the spotlight most of the time, but when it’s his turn, he knows how to turn on the charm. But… I sometimes wonder if he really likes his job? Like, I think he finds it rewarding most of the time, and he’s surely very talented, but sometimes he’s so stoic about it that I wonder if he really likes it all the time.

Woozi

Okay. I think he’d be far more light-hearted if he didn’t carry so much burden in the group. You see snippets of that light-hearted attitude when he gets to just sit back and watch the others have a good time. As passionate as he is about what he does, I wonder if he’d be happier to do this more casually or without the pressures of being one of the primary visionaries for the group. I really worry about him, actually.

I think he’s the goofball that we all see. That’s not an act, and I don’t think he’s hamming it up for the camera like 90% of the time. In my mind, he is the sunshine personified that we all think he is. He seems incredibly caring and thoughtful, a mood-maker in the group. I’ve mentioned this before, but if there is a downside, it’s that he has a hard time being serious about something because he’d rather lift moods instead of dealing with bad ones.

Mingyu

I think he’s also pretty genuine. Wants to play the big, tough guy, but we all recognize that he’s actually a total baby. Incredibly caring and thoughtful. If there is a hidden side, I think it’s that he’s far more intelligent than he gets credit for. I think he fills the niche of dumb jock (affectionate) in the group, and there’s not a lot of room for him to show that he has a lot more underneath the surface.

Minghao

He does not seem to let others in when it comes to work. He’s there for work. But I think this is because he’s just intensely private. Even amongst people in his daily life, I think he’d have a hard time letting people in. I think privately, with close friends or family, he’s much more light-hearted than we ever get to see, though. He might even be pretty soft about the people close to him, but we’ll never know.

Seungkwan

I think he thinks the world of those around him, so no one should take any of his side eyes or attitude seriously. I think behind all of that, he’s very soft and affectionate with his members. I don’t think any of that is surprising. But I do think he is beyond stubborn and likes to be right more than the average person. He has hills he would die on, and his stubbornness might put a wedge between him and others sometimes.

Vernon

I think that 90% of the time, he’s a total loner who would prefer to be in his own head. But this is a hill I would die on. Being a loner doesn’t mean he’s inattentive!! As someone who is sort of a loner, please trust me, you notice a lot about others. I think he’s quietly very caring about those around him, though he’s pretty discreet about it most of the time. I think he’s another one that intensely values privacy and doing his own thing.

Chan

I think he’s pretty reserved when he’s not on stage. That might surprise some people, but what I mean is that he is really good at chitchat, and it takes some serious time to get beyond the chitchat with him. When he does get comfortable with someone enough to let them in, I think he’d be very sweet and committed. I also think he’d have a bit of an ego. Nothing crazy, but he knows he’s good at his job and knows he’s attractive.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua #jun #hoshi #wonwoo #woozi #dk #mingyu #minghao #seungkwan #vernon #dino

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smilesatdawnmain · 2 days ago

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ETERNAL AU (Part 19) Interactive story

Gongzhu is… hesitant.

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

LMK AU: Eternal

Ship: Shadowpeach

Wukong felt his hands quiver as he spoke. “Mihou,” he had said the name several times today, yet it felt so heavy against his tongue right now. “Mihou is here.” He watched their eyes widen. Gongzhu’s gaze never left his, but Chang’e’s flickered around for a moment. “His soul is here.”

His choice of words caused a moment of hesitation. Instead of immediate anger, there was a pause, enough for Gongzhu to be curious over.

Still, she spoke with a guttural hiss, “Telling ghost stories, are we?” It was a well known fact to human, demon, celestial- all manner of beings. When one died, there was a chance the soul could linger, but it was rare. Perhaps a few days before the collectors of the Diyu would arrive to retrieve that soul and drag it back to the depths.

Even if he was one of those rare souls, it had been too many years for her Brother to still be lingering.

“It’s the truth,” he lurched forward. He was probably botching this whole thing. Mihou had a plan, and one he hadn’t had a chance to really ask about before losing sight of him. His Moon knew these two better than he could ever hope to.

He needed his advice.

“Just-“ he bowed his head. “Give me a moment.” When he looked up next, his eyes were a glow.

Chang’e tensed. Gongzhu held firm, knowing those eyes could do two things- peer into the truth, or scorch your skin to a crisp. When it didn’t do the latter, her hand was still against her fan, keeping it to her hip.

Wukong focused on his stomach first, finding the golden string against his torso. It fell between his bent knees, curling outward and to the left. He followed it, leading him straight to a swishing tail and standing feet.

The relief he felt that Mihou was still there was immeasurable. “Mihou-“ he lifted his head, only to come face to face with a pissed Moon Monkey. He flinched when Macaque growled.

“You are an idiot!!” He shrieked, a heavy load of frustration finally able to be dumped into a single sentence. “Idiot!!”

Wukong was blubbering, flinching and sinking himself further and further into the ground like a startled child. Chang’e and Gongzhu lifting their eyebrows, glancing at each other. Wukong stammered, “I’m sure you are right but- why??” He whimpered.

Macaque made a sharp hissing sound, flicking his hands towards Wukong like he wanted to strangle him- remembered he couldn’t and instead whipped around to pull at his own fur.

The Monk’s staff- which Wukong had revealed, COULD TELEPORT?! That accursed Monk could teleport the ENTIRE TIME and still forced Wukong to travel for years with him?! He thought now that the journey was done he could let go of his petty anger- BUT NO, the Monk found a way to keep it going!

Then they get to the moon and Wukong falls to pieces at the sight of a robot- letting himself get dragged as an official intruder, just because the thing was cute. Letting Chang’e‘s anxiety rise, and make it so stressful for her home- this idiot!

“You let yourself get captured- I wanted to be subtle in coming here, not put everything on high alert!!”

Wukong’s ears flattened, nearly laying himself flat on the ground to pucker his lips into an apologetic pout. “Moon…”

“Don’t think acting cute will get you out of this!” Macaque jabbed a finger at him. “Focus on them again!” He pointed to his Sisters, who were vehemently confused.

To them, it seemed like Wukong was just cowering to thin air. When he looked back at them, Gongzhu scowled “Putting on a play?”

“I think he’s lost it…” Chang’e whispered to Gongzhu, almost pitying. Almost.

Wukong lifted his head, “N-No no, it’s Mihou,” he gestured to the left of him. Gongzhu and Chang’e looked, saw nothing, and glared at him. “I’m being honest!” He insisted, pleading. “M-Mihou,” he looked to his mate for help.

Macaque was pinching the bridge of his nose, “Give me a second,” he exhaled. He needed to show them he was indeed there, but how? “Okay,” he concluded, “Tell them you can see me because of your eyes.”

Wukong did so, the sister’s looking unconvinced. The King was known for his drawn out tricks after all. To them, it was far easier to believe he was just bored and looking to mock them, then to consider his words true.

Mihou rubbed his chin. He wasn’t upset with his sisters for doubting- he was actually relieved they didn’t fall for such things so easily. He too would be the same. “Okay..”

#lego monkie kid #lmk #eternal au #interactive story #Princess Iron Fan #Chang’e #lmk wukong #shadowpeach #lmk macaque

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superbfirnacho · 3 days ago

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How would my pirate boys be with a Lover??

✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨

Nightmare

Contrary to popular belief, the Captain of the Black Crescent isn’t a rough or extremely possessive lover. Despite other often assuming otherwise, Nightmare becomes extremely soft to those he loves (which is 0 currently) he still puts up a grumpy front to you, of course, but it’s easy to see through that.

Nightmare loves, loves physical contact from the one he loves, although he’ll never outwardly say it, a hand on his cheek or arms around him from you is almost enough to make him melt.

He loves your gentle touch, and reciprocates them with his own. His favourite thing is running his claws over skin in a caress, it’s a silent but meaningful act.

don’t forget that he is troubled as well. You’re his shoulder to cry on. You’re the only person he really trusts to be vulnerable with. Nightmare hides it well, but he’s extremely insecure about his corrupted appearance.

he’s also there for you. Whether you’re angry, sad, or depressed, he’ll drop what he’s doing to make you feel better.

He’s not possessive, per se, he wants you to be happy, and if you being happy means being social, so be it. It won’t stop the jealousy though.

As far as he’s concerned, if you’re his, he’s yours as well.

Horror

Despite being terrifying, Horror is actually a sweetheart to those he loves.

Horror loves giving you crushing bear hugs, if he could hold you in his arms all day, he would.

He will occasionally wrap his arms around you when you’re doing your daily tasks, not letting go until you insist it, it won’t stop him from pouting though.

Horror loves when you make food for him, especially if it’s his favourite. But he also loves to make you food, it’s a love language of sorts as he’s not the best with words.

Horror struggles with a lot of mental health issue, his memory loss problems, occasional bursts of emotions, and sudden change of mood are common place when with him, and having you there to help him makes things so much better.

Horror is probably the most possessive of the bunch, he wants you and you only, and will get extremely nervous when others touch you, as if he’s afraid you’ll enjoy them more?

it’s best to nip these behaviours at the bud with plenty of reassurance because it’s not healthy for anyone in the situation.

Killer

Killer is the more unhinged of the Group, however, that doesn’t prevent him from falling in love.

Killer has been known to be the playful flirt of the group, he never manages to actually get someone to reciprocate. Until you.

He’s skittish with physical contact, and you understand that. So words of praise and appreciation are how you show your love for each other.

killer loves pet names, and love words like “cute” and “adorable” to describe you.

once he gets comfortable and trusting enough for you two to touch, you quickly discover how absolutely touch starved he is, not letting you leave bed when you wake up because he want to hold you for longer.

Killer tends to be obsessive, he has trouble recognizing the fact you have any flaws, and may come upon a rude awakening once he figures out you do. But the chances are he’ll love you even more for them, because as flawed as you may be,

you will never match how corrupted he’s become.

And he loves that. He loves you. Don’t forget.

Dust

Dust isn’t flirty. Dust doesn’t touch you often. Dust is quiet. But you know he loves you.

Dust had forgotten what it was like to feel wanted, to feel loved. So when he found you, he decided he didn’t want to lose you.

It started when you began to find small gifts around your ship cabin, small flowers, food you like, a particularly colourful shell here and there.

You found out they were from him, and confronted him about it, and your relationship blossomed.

Dust isn’t one to engage in physical touch, it took him a while to get used to you touching him. But he loves your voice.

He could listen to you talk all day, your voice is an escape, a small piece of your mind in which he gets to forget the horrible things he’s done and be there in the moment. With you.

the horrible things he sees when he’s alone, the things he hears in his head are almost completely silent, and when they’re louder, you come and save him.

he feels comfortable enough to break down in your arms, the guilt consumes him, but he feels whole in your arms, with you holding him up.

Dust understands if you want to leave him, but that’s doesn’t mean he won’t try and get you back.

You’re his light.

✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨

(Note! Some of these that weren’t mentioned in one but in the other can still apply to them nm and dust share a couple similarities and you’ll see more of that in others)

((sorry for any spelling errors))

#undertale #undertale au #undertale art #sans #sans undertale #dreamtale #nightmare sans #killer sans #horror sans #Killer sans #umtv #umtv pirate au #dust sans

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olderthannetfic · 2 days ago

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Be me.

Make what amounts to an art shitpost on tumblr for a podcast fandom, with a somewhat messy sketch of them in profile staring at one another and a caption about how I only came up with designs for these characters so I could draw ship art.

Post gets three notes. That’s fine. I understand based on the reception I’m getting for the fanfic of these two and how their individual art did that while people like these characters individually, I’m basically the only person who desperately needs them to bang. Most of my art gets seen by almost no one anyway, this was a sketchy shitpost that didn’t have great art to begin with, I’m cool with that.

So anyway yesterday I opened up a newsletter from this podcast and there that art was—complete with shitpost caption because the link had pulled it.

Anyway this should be illegal and I’m never making my ship art easy for these people to find again. No more tags. I don’t care if no one sees it, I just don’t want to be jump-scared by my own half-assed art and shitposting again in an official publication of the thing I’m making art for, and especially not without warning.

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flightfoot · 2 days ago

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ML Fanfic Recs for Completed Fics 4K - 7K Words

I've got 20 fics for y'all this time! Several Lovesquare fics, unsurprisingly, but also some nice character studies, AUs, and a handful of less common ships, such a Lukadrien and Kittybella.

All of these fics will be in my Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2024 Collection, and if you like that, please consider checking out my other collections, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2023, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2022, and Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics - Misc. Years.

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Two is Company by Shadownoble

Adrien’s father wants him to play for an upcoming party. Only this time he won’t be doing it alone.

This Lukadrien fic's adorable! Luka's got selective mutism, which Adrien takes in stride. I love how their relationship develops, they're smitten with each other! Though of course while Gabriel brought the two of them together, he's an obstacle too. Because he's a dick.

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memtempsychosis by @bittersweetresilience

Félix is always watching Adrien die.

I love time loop fics, and this is no exception. Felix somehow gets trapped in a time loop with Adrien where no matter what he does, Adrien always dies by the end of the day by some manner, and then everything resets. I love how inevitable it all feels, the strange beauty to the prose when going over his deaths, and how you can feel Felix's increasing desperation throughout it all.

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Consequences of Dating Blindly by @mostmagical

Marinette knew she tended to get tunnel vision when she was focused, but luckily her boyfriend Chat Noir was always there to watch her back as they fought Monarch. With their enemy having disappeared, however, they decided together that it was finally time to reveal themselves. In public. Face to face. It's a little silly to have to introduce yourself to your own boyfriend, but after all, it wasn’t Marinette’s fault that she never knew her boyfriend’s name. (Adrien has never been to school, and Marinette doesn't know him.)

This is adorable! The two of them are so smitten with each other, and Adrien's not used to people not recognizing him as Adrien AGRESTE on sight. Marinette's got quite a few surprises coming her way, she didn't expect her kitty to come from this kind of background.

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Chat Noir Cataclyms Hawk Moth's Balls by @a-flaming-idiot

It's what it says on the tin; Chat Noir castrates his unaware father. And at the same time, Gabriel hits a high C to shatter glass, Nathalie realizes she wasted her life, Chloe accidentally outs herself, Adrien becomes homeless, there are no more secret identities, Tikki thinks she's funny, Nino and Alya take what's their's, and Chloe finally respects another human being. And a partridge in a pear tree~

So this is a fun little crackfic! Lots of jokes and absurd scenarios, you're likely to giggle at least a few times (and hopefully several times) while reading this.

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The Only Love We Keep by @nemaliwrites

Zoé is used to wanting things she can’t have — loving people who do not love her back. She’s made peace with that. But as soon as she meets Scarabella, she’s a goner. Or, five times Zoé’s love wasn’t reciprocated, and one time it was.

I love this analysis of Zoe and her circumstances, her mindset, her philosophy based on how she's grown up. How she yearns for her mom to actually love her, but she just... doesn't. And how she finds friends who actually care for her, and someone who actually wants her.

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A Body Without Spirit by @nemaliwrites

“Look, I don’t know much about you guys, but I always hear other humans whining about how they have to listen to their parents or their teachers or bosses or whatever.” “Yes,” says Marinette, “but that’s…that’s different. Usually, when someone tells me to do something, I only do it if I want to. I can think about it, make a real decision. But this…it was like I didn’t even have time to think about it. Like I couldn’t resist, even if I wanted to. And if I did, it would have killed me.” -- Adrien and Marinette swap bodies. Marinette does not have a good time.

I love how this examined how it feels to be controlled by an Amok, especially by someone who's never felt it before, who knows something's not right, that this isn't just psychological, but doesn't know what's causing the inability to disobey orders. And it means that Marinette really, truly understands why Adrien can't disobey now, not just on a mental level, but through experience.

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Blueberry Passion Fruit by @ninadove and @paracosmicat

He walked up to the counter, because he could not think of anything else to do. For all those times he had rehearsed their reunion, he had failed to consider the most obvious scenario: Adrien might want to run away once more.

I love Adrien just having run away, used a fake name, and then start working at a random cafe. Of course Felix still manages to track him down eventually. I loved seeing them talk things out!

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The Music Of His Soul by @rosie-b

Ever since she was born, Marinette could hear piano music in her head. It wasn’t any song that was playing in the world immediately around her; instead, what she heard were the songs that her soulmate was listening to. They came to her as her soulmate heard them, at seemingly random times from early morning to late afternoon, when the golden rays of sunset began to stream throughout Paris. Marinette enjoyed hearing the piano; it was proof that her other half was out there, alive and waiting to meet her. Written for Ladrien June Day 1: Hiding in Plain Sight

If you like soulmate fics and Ladrien, then this is a real treat! I liked this particular take on the soulmate mythos, and the way Adrien and Ladybug had looked for their soulmate, had thought of them, was really sweet!

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i love you to death by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

When Toxinelle vanishes after a battle with Hesperia, Loveybug takes her place.

So this fic takes place from Griffe Noir's perspective, showing his thought process and feelings towards Toxinelle, and his reaction when she just... vanishes and is replaced. I like how, as much as he'd convinced himself before her disappearance that he hated Toxinelle, he finds that he can't stand her being gone.

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love's constant shield kept you safe while you healed by katrinette

When Chat asks Marinette to keep his tree safe for him, of course Marinette says yes. Marinette's got ten green thumbs. She can keep any plant alive, healthy, and blooming. But Chat's tree has hidden damage, and extraordinary actions might be necessary to keep him alive.

I've never seen a tree used as a sort of daemon, as a piece of a person's soul that reflects their physical and mental state, it's very creative! I loved seeing how Adrien's and Marinette's trees acted and what they looked like, and how Adrien's tree reacted to bad circumstances.

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To Have Loved by @trishacollins

Adrien struggles with the loss of children he never had, with a life he remembers living but that wasn't real. The only person who understands him is Ladybug, his wife and his children's mother. Sleeping alone is such an empty feeling. Together, they might make a start at healing. Or they might just make a new disaster.

I love Jubilation angst. Depending on how "real" that timeline felt, waking up could be devastating - and Chat WAS certainly devastated in that episode. It's akin to the Pevensie kids in Narnia growing up, becoming rulers, and then tumbling out of the wardrobe a couple decades later, the same age at which they left. Of course Ladybug and Chat Noir would cling to each other afterwards, the only other person who remembers that imaginary timeline.

That's not all this story entails, however. Gabriel isn't too happy about Adrien sneaking out as much as he has been, and he WILL get answers, one way or another...

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If I'd Met You First by @geek-fashionista

According to Tikki, Chat Noir has always been Ladybug’s partner. “Maybe someone ought to tell him that,” Marinette says bitterly. [An Enemies AU]

So apparently this was one of the earliest enemies AU in existence, with originally being written in early 2016, but it was only just now uploaded to AO3 so I'm still counting it for this list. Despite its age, it holds up remarkably well, the author guessed a lot of things correctly, like Gabriel being Hawk Moth, it being possible to akumatize multiple people at once so long as the same feeling is being used for all of them, and it being possible to reject akumas. Considering that none of that was confirmed in season 1 (granted, most people had guessed that Gabriel was Hawk Moth, even that early), it's pretty remarkable!

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Happily Ever After by 3ggroll

Gabriel Agreste was a hero. Of that, Marinette is sure. So what's with the bitter taste in her mouth whenever she sees his statue?

This is an alternate universe version of Re-creation's epilogue, with Gabriel's Wish actually altering people's memories - Marinette's, most notably - to forget that he was Monarch, and to erase the memory of that knowledge whenever she figures it out. And she keeps ON figuring it out, over and over, but the knowledge is never allowed to stick.

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honesty can only be if there is a lie by katrinette

Ladybug always tells the truth. Chat Noir always lies.

So this is an interesting concept. While transformed, Ladybug physically cannot say anything untrue, while Chat can only speak in untruths. As a consequence, Chat gets good at figuring out how he can lie in such a way as to convey truthful information to Ladybug, and Ladybug learns how to speak deceptively without actually saying anything false.

Unfortunately for them, while they aren't bound by these conditions as civilians, it seeps into their civilian lives. Adrien learns to lie freely, easily, and convincingly, which is empowering at first, but leads to the class avoiding him when he starts being caught in them. Marinette doesn't outright lie, but her tendency to dance around subjects gets on people's nerves and similarly leads to others running out of patience with her or avoiding her. Basically, neither of their social lives fares well.

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No Names In The Stars by @nemaliwrites

Shadybug knows how her story ends: people like her don't get happy endings. She's made her peace with that. Her name on Claw Noir's wrist changes things.

I love Shadybug and Claw Noir talking like this, getting more emotionally sincere than they usually are. I especially liked how Shadybug kept thinking about how her soulmate wouldn't want her, that she's a nobody. It fits what we see of her in the special.

I also really like the reveal of who hers and Claw's enemy is. It's not unexpected, but it's still good.

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in which chat noir comes up with an awesome gift for ladybug by @mixelation

If his Lady wants ultra rare Adrien Agreste merch, then that’s what his Lady will get! Written for the Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa exchange.

This was really sweet and I love how mixelation wrote Adrien's internal narration! You really viscerally understood his thoughts and feelings. It had some of the intimacy of a first person perspective, but well, in third person.

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Crossed Wires by @torvalvtt

Marinette has taken Adrien up on his suggestion that they share an apartment in university to help cut costs and be closer to school. This would be fine, except they both seem to have a problem with keeping their suits off around the apartment.

This was fun and hilarious. I loved seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir hurriedly try to come up with excuses for why they were in their own apartment, while Marinette and Adrien weren't XD.

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Here is Your Chance (to Understand) by Neonlite

And when he turned back to Adrien, tired in a way he always was when he thought about Belos, at the concern in Adrien’s eyes, and he knew what really unsettled him about the boy. It was like looking in a mirror, at a younger version of himself. A version of him with a responsibility he shouldn’t have had, a version of him with a power different from everyone else. Cat Noir seemed to settle atop Adrien, like a skin he was more comfortable in. (And the Golden Guard’s mask was safe because he wasn’t Hunter in it, he was the strongest witch on the Isles.) -- Where Adrien gets plopped at Hunter's house and he has many feelings about it. (Maybe too much for someone who wasn't stranded in a different dimension.)

I love Adrien and Hunter talking. They don't know exactly how similar they are - Adrien is from the season 5 ending, so Gabriel's regarded as a hero and he doesn't know that he's a sentimonster - but even still, Hunter can see the similarities between his younger self and Adrien in the ways they act, can tell something's wrong, even without Adrien realizing it.

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Blanc Space by @11jj11

Nino awakes to find himself in a strange flooded world...

So this is an interesting concept. Nino wakes up to suddenly find himself in Chat Blanc's timeline, with no idea of what just happened aside from it probably being due to an akuma attack, as most strange happenings are. Of course, he meets Chat Blanc, though the cat doesn't know he's real.

I love how Nino realizes what's going on and empathizes with Chat. He needs company so badly.

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Miraculous: A Lovesquare Dating Sim by @nagisachan1

“Did you hear that, Tikki? A ‘choose your own adventure’ about a romance with Paris’ superheroes. Do you really think there’s people who’d be interested in that sort of thing?” Tikki giggled. “I have a feeling there’s a lot more than you think, Marinette.” What will Marinette do tonight? YOU decide, in this CYOA lovesquare adventure!

This isn't very long, but I really like the way it's set-up, I played through so many CYOA books as a kid. Playing through this simple little Lovesquare fic whets my appetite for something more involved, it seems like it'd be easy to do a multi-writer collaboration for some sort of CYOA fic, and if that happened, I'd like to use this fic as a guide for how to format it. I especially love that at the top of each chapter, there's a link to go back to the previous chapter so you can easily try out the other branches.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic rec

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