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reidmarieprentiss · 9 months ago

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Lost in Translation: Prologue

Summary: A college student (reader) forms a deep bond with a young professor, Spencer Reid, over weekly study sessions in the library. After months of building a friendship, they share a night together, only for the student to be left alone, Spencer gone without a word.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst, backstory, mild smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: non-descriptive smut (18+), talks of sex, alcohol, professor/student relationship (but it's Spencer and he's 18 like his students), being used for sex, loss of virginity, (un)requited feelings, no happy ending for this part

Word count: 8.6k

a/n: new story just dropped lol -- wrote so fucking fast and not edited at all sorryyyy

main masterlist part one part two part three part four

Being a wonder kid, Spencer Reid’s youth was one of isolation. Growing up too young, too smart, too awkward—too everything to really fit in—made life difficult. He navigated a world where his intelligence placed him far beyond his peers, yet his age kept him at arm’s length from those who might understand him better. It wasn’t until he began teaching an engineering course while working on his PhD at eighteen that he finally felt a flicker of that belonging.

Standing in front of an auditorium full of undergraduates, Spencer finally experienced something akin to acceptance. The students, many only a few years older than him, loved the fresh, youthful energy he brought to their 8 a.m. class. For the first time, they weren’t learning from a middle-aged professor droning on about equations but from someone who felt like one of them. Spencer’s lectures were passionate, and he brought concepts to life in ways that made the subject not only digestible but genuinely fun.

It didn't hurt that he was handsome either; that soft hair, those gentle brown eyes framed by glasses, and the earnest way he smiled—all of it made more than a few students swoon over him at one point or another. Spencer, of course, remained oblivious to the dreamy stares and flirtatious comments.

Despite his newfound sense of belonging in the classroom, Spencer didn’t really hang out with anyone. He remained somewhat of an enigma—attending his own study groups, tutoring off and on, and sometimes grabbing lunch with faculty who treated him more like an adorable novelty than a colleague. He was used to it by then, that feeling of floating in between worlds.

But one day, after a particularly engaging lecture on applied mechanics, a student named Jasper approached him. Jasper was bold, with a confident walk and a grin that suggested they weren’t afraid to push boundaries. “Hey, Professor Reid,” they said casually, leaning against the edge of the lecture podium.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Spencer replied, caught slightly off guard as he scrambled to gather his things. He was never quite sure how to handle the one-on-one interactions with students that felt too friendly, too casual. “Did you have a question about the lecture?”

Jasper laughed and shook their head. “No, actually, I was just thinking... Me and my roommates are throwing a party this weekend, and I was wondering if you’d wanna come? You know, kick back, meet some people... No physics or equations, promise.”

Spencer blinked, processing the invitation like a computer struggling to boot up. A party? With students? It felt... like an odd concept, but one that piqued his interest in a way nothing had before. He’d never really had a social invitation like this—especially not one involving people close to his own age. The idea was exhilarating, and for a moment, Spencer could almost feel what it might be like to be just another young adult, rather than the kid-genius-teacher everyone knew him as.

“Really?” Spencer’s eyes lit up, his grin boyish and genuine. “That sounds great, actually! Should I, um... should I bring anything? Snacks? Drinks? I can... figure something out.”

Jasper shook their head, laughter spilling out at how adorably sincere he was being. “No, no, don’t worry about it,” they said, waving off his concern. “Just bring yourself, cutie.” With a teasing wink and a quick flick of their wrist, they slipped a small note with their address into Spencer’s hands. And then, with that same confident stride, Jasper turned and walked away, leaving Spencer to stand there, flushed and stunned, staring down at the address in his palm like it was some secret code to a new world he’d been waiting forever to explore.

—

Spencer stood outside the house, his nerves and excitement mingling as he took in the scene. The address Jasper had given him led him to a lively place: music thumping loudly enough to rattle the windows, laughter spilling out through the open front door, and the warm glow of lights casting playful shadows on the lawn. People were milling around everywhere—huddled in small circles, raising drinks to one another, dancing, and talking loudly over the music. It was the kind of scene Spencer had seen in movies but never really experienced in real life.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and stepped inside. He immediately felt out of place in his neat button-down shirt and slacks, compared to the casual party attire of those around him. But he was here, and he was determined to enjoy it. As he made his way through the crowded entryway, Spencer's eyes were wide, absorbing every detail—the smell of popcorn and alcohol mixing in the air, the flashing lights, the loud music, and the laughter. He weaved through groups of students, dodging stray elbows and trying to make eye contact with anyone who might seem familiar.

However, after a few failed attempts at small talk and realizing that almost everyone he knew was either preoccupied or didn’t recognize him outside the classroom setting, Spencer’s excitement dimmed a bit. He found himself gravitating towards a quieter corner of the living room, eventually sinking into the soft, worn leather of a couch, trying to look relaxed but not too out of place. He sat there, half-heartedly holding a cup of soda someone had pressed into his hand earlier, unsure of what to do next. Every now and then, a familiar face would pass by, and he’d offer a polite wave or smile, but nothing stuck.

The longer he sat, the more he felt like an observer looking through glass, disconnected from the easy laughter and carefree movements around him. He sighed inwardly, wondering if coming to this party was such a great idea after all. But as he settled back into his seat, he heard an enthusiastic voice shout above the noise.

“Professor Reid!”

He barely had time to look up before Jasper dropped down beside him on the couch, their presence as warm and electrifying as a flash of lightning. They were so close that the entire side of their body pressed against Spencer's, hip to shoulder, the sudden contact sending a warm jolt through his skin. Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise, and he couldn't help the slight smile that pulled at the corner of his lips.

“Hey!” he greeted, his voice louder than usual to be heard over the music but still tinged with that inherent awkwardness that never quite left him in social situations. He noticed the slight flush in Jasper’s cheeks, their eyes bright and relaxed from the party vibe.

“I thought you were gonna be a no-show,” Jasper teased, leaning in so that their mouth was close to Spencer's ear, their voice buzzing through him. “You seemed kinda nervous when I invited you.”

“N-no, not at all!” Spencer said quickly, though his laugh betrayed his nerves. “I was... just... you know, trying to, uh, soak it all in.”

“Well,” Jasper drawled, dragging out the word like they were savoring it, “now that you're here, we should make sure you have a good time. Can’t have my favorite professor looking all lonely in the corner.” They flashed him that teasing smile, the one that Spencer had come to recognize as Jasper's signature charm, and for a moment, Spencer forgot about the crowded room and the strangers dancing around him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, feeling a bit more relaxed, the warmth from Jasper’s touch making the party seem a little less intimidating. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That night, Spencer had no idea how things would unfold. What started as casual chatter on that couch quickly transformed into something more charged, more intimate. Jasper had a way of making Spencer feel seen—really seen—and as they talked, leaning into each other, the lines between conversation and flirtation blurred until they no longer existed at all. Eventually, the touches grew longer, more intentional, and Spencer felt his breath catch when Jasper’s fingers brushed against the back of his neck, pulling him closer until their lips finally met.

It was Spencer’s first kiss, and it was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once. He was clumsy at first, feeling every ounce of his inexperience and fearing that he was doing everything wrong. But Jasper was patient, guiding him with slow, teasing movements until Spencer’s hesitations melted into something fervent and desperate. They broke apart, breathless and flushed, and before he knew it, Jasper was pulling him up, leading him through the crowded party, down a narrow hallway, and into a bedroom.

There, it happened—the fumbling of clothes, the whispered instructions and reassurances. Spencer's heart pounded in his chest, the nerves and adrenaline mixing with a primal kind of desire he’d never felt before. Jasper seemed to know exactly what they were doing, leading and coaxing Spencer through the motions, and for once, he wasn’t overthinking, wasn’t caught in the spiral of his own mind. He let go, lost in the sensations of touch, taste, and pleasure as he experienced intimacy for the first time.

When it was over, Spencer lay on his back, panting, feeling a mix of awe and disbelief wash over him. He was almost scared to speak, to ask what this all meant. But before he could say anything, Jasper sat up and smiled, giving Spencer a quick, almost dismissive pat on the arm.

“That was fun, Professor,” Jasper said with a playful grin that lacked the intimacy they'd shared moments before. “But I’m gonna get some sleep now. Thanks for, you know, joining in on the fun tonight.”

Spencer sat up, a little dazed and trying to process the sudden shift. He nodded, feeling a strange lump in his throat, and muttered a soft, “Yeah, sure. Thanks... for inviting me.” There was no animosity in Jasper’s tone, but it was clear the night had come to its end. Spencer gathered his clothes, dressed quickly, and slipped out of the room, his head spinning with a thousand thoughts. He walked through the party once more, though he felt almost invisible now, slipping out the front door into the cool night air.

The next class was excruciatingly awkward for Spencer. He’d gone over the lecture material several times, but nothing could prepare him for the moment when Jasper walked in, took a seat right in the middle of the room, and gave him an easy smile like nothing had happened. Spencer struggled to maintain eye contact and found himself stumbling over his words more than usual. He felt exposed, raw, like everyone in that room somehow knew what had happened between them.

But Jasper was unbothered, unfazed—completely casual. It was as if that night was just another blip on their radar, a moment to be shared and then forgotten. And perhaps that was the point. As the days went on, Spencer realized that to Jasper, and probably to many others, it was just another night—no strings, no lingering feelings, just a moment of pleasure and then moving on.

The realization was strange for Spencer. He couldn't help but question if that was just what sex was—casual, meaningless, but a great way to blow off steam. It felt anticlimactic to think that something so intimate was treated so carelessly, but maybe that was the reality. For all his intellect, this was an area Spencer had little experience in, and he found himself trying to adjust to this new perspective. Maybe this was just the way people did things, and maybe that night with Jasper was simply the start of understanding what it meant to live a life that wasn’t dictated by equations or theories, but by messy, imperfect human experiences.

—

The library was packed with students hunched over textbooks, fingers flying across keyboards, and whispered conversations about study guides. You were already on edge, the stress of your final exam making every little noise seem louder, every empty table harder to find. You hugged your books to your chest, eyes darting around for any free spot, your mind already buried in the formulas and concepts you needed to cram before tomorrow.

Then, without warning, you collided with a solid body as you turned a corner. Your books tumbled out of your grip, scattering across the polished floor. “Shit!” you blurted out, the curse escaping before you could hold it back. “Sorry!” You dropped down immediately to pick up your books, your face burning with embarrassment.

Just as you did, so did the person you’d run into, and the next thing you knew, there was a dull thud as your foreheads collided with a painful smack. You jerked back, clutching your head, eyes watering from the sudden sharp sting.

“Ow,” the guy groaned, rubbing his forehead. He winced, but there was a hint of a laugh behind the pain, a softness in his voice that made your embarrassment double.

“Fuck, my bad,” you stammered, feeling utterly mortified. “I’m so clumsy.”

The guy chuckled lightly, standing back up as he brushed off his pants. “Me too, it’s alright,” he said. As you looked up, you finally saw who you’d bumped into.

It was him. Professor Reid—the young genius who everyone in your classes seemed to talk about, with rumors that swirled around him like leaves in a storm. The eighteen-year-old PhD who made engineering sound sexy, apparently both in his lectures and in the beds of the more... adventurous students. You’d heard more than one friend gush about how he'd helped them understand a complicated theory in more ways than one, their whispers tinged with admiration and amusement.

And now here he was, standing right in front of you, all tousled curls, warm hazel eyes, and that slightly awkward but undeniably charming smile. The closeness made you realize how tall he was, his lean frame towering over you. You felt a rush of heat creep down your neck, spreading across your skin like wildfire. You’d seen him from afar, of course—catching glimpses of him in lecture halls or around campus—but never up close like this, and he was... so much prettier than you’d expected.

“Are... are you okay?” Professor Reid asked, still rubbing his head but looking at you with a concern that made your stomach flip. He leaned down, grabbing the books you'd dropped before handing them to you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, gripping your books tightly, trying to ignore the fact that your hand was now tingling where he’d touched it. “I just... wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Neither was I,” he admitted, his smile widening a little as he looked at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I guess we're both guilty.”

“Yeah, guess so,” you said, forcing a laugh. God, why was it so hard to speak right now? You mentally cursed yourself for being so flustered. You quickly glanced around, realizing that most of the tables were still full, and suddenly it dawned on you that there were no available places to sit... except for the table behind him.

“Um... do you—do you mind if I sit here?” you asked, gesturing to the table he’d just been standing beside.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the table and then at you, a strange look crossing his face like he was trying to figure something out. Then, with that same awkward but genuine smile, he nodded. “Yeah, of course. It's all yours.”

You thanked him quietly, moving to the chair and settling down, but as you did, you couldn't help but steal another glance at him—those curls falling just right, his long fingers thumbing through his notes as he lingered nearby. And as you opened your books, pretending to focus on studying, you couldn't stop sneaking glances at the very attractive, young professor.

The hour that followed was filled with the gentle rustle of pages turning, pens scratching against paper, and the occasional cough or whisper from other students scattered around the library. But you couldn’t concentrate, not really. Your eyes kept drifting up from your notes to the table across from you, where Professor Reid sat hunched over his books, his focus so intense that you wondered what on earth he could be doing. Every now and then, your gazes would accidentally meet, and you’d look away quickly, your cheeks heating up as if you'd been caught doing something wrong.

You were in the middle of re-reading the same paragraph for the fifth time when you heard his voice break the silence between you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he began, the soft tone of his voice instantly grabbing your attention, ��what course are you studying for?”

Your eyes shot up to meet his, and for a moment, all you could do was blink at him. He was looking at you curiously, genuinely interested, and his expression was kind, almost encouraging. You tucked a stray hair behind your ear and cleared your throat, trying not to let your voice shake as you replied, “Oh, uh, architecture. I’m studying for an exam... final one of the semester.”

“Architecture!” Spencer’s face lit up, and he leaned forward slightly, his eyes sparkling with excitement. It was like you’d just told him the most fascinating thing in the world, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he seemed so genuinely enthusiastic. “That’s great! I’ve always thought architecture was such a beautiful blend of art and science—it’s like engineering for the soul, you know? There’s so much math involved, but it’s all to create something tangible, something that can change the way people experience space. And the way architecture has evolved over time? It’s like a living timeline of human innovation!”

He continued to ramble, moving from modern skyscrapers to the ancient marvels of Rome, describing the symmetry of cathedrals and the beauty of brutalism. The passion in his voice made every word seem like a story, and you sat there, leaning your chin on your hand, utterly captivated by the way he spoke. It was clear he loved to share knowledge, to connect different ideas, to see how everything fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

You found yourself smiling wider and wider, nodding along as he spoke, absorbing everything he said not because you needed to know it for your exam, but because he made it all sound so alive.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly, laughing softly as he realized he’d been talking nonstop for quite a while. He leaned back in his chair, a slight flush in his cheeks. “I tend to... ramble a bit. Especially when it’s something interesting. I hope I’m not distracting you.”

“Not at all,” you assured him quickly, shaking your head. “Actually... I liked listening to you.”

He seemed surprised by that, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his eyes and offering a shy smile. “You, um... you make it all sound really exciting. It’s nice.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” Spencer smiled, a genuine, soft smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, the kind that lingered like a shared secret. You wanted to say more, to keep the conversation going, to ask him about the things he was passionate about. But before you could find the right words, Spencer glanced down at his watch and began gathering his books.

“I, uh, should get going,” he said, a slight note of regret in his voice. “Lots of things to prepare for—classes and, um... you know, life things.” He gave an awkward laugh, and slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing for a moment as if he were about to say something else, but then just smiled instead. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady and casual, despite the fact that your heart was pounding harder than it should have been. He nodded, gave you one last shy smile, and turned to leave, weaving through the tables and shelves of books until he disappeared from view.

You watched him go, the way he held himself with that slight awkwardness, his long stride taking him quickly out of the library. And as soon as he was gone, you slumped back in your chair, letting out a breath.

For a fleeting moment, you felt hopeful that you might run into him again, that maybe you’d have another one of those conversations that felt easy and exciting all at once. But then you remembered the stories—the whispers about how Professor Reid often slept with students, how it was no big deal to him, just casual fun. And suddenly, you felt foolish for reading anything more into his friendliness. What if he’d only started talking to you because he was trying to woo you into bed?

You couldn’t deny that he was attractive—very attractive—but if all he saw in you was another potential fling, then maybe it was better not to get your hopes up. After all, Spencer Reid wasn’t like other guys. He was brilliant, handsome, and, from what you’d heard, had more than his share of admirers. You shook your head, trying to brush away the pang of disappointment and return your focus to your notes.

Still, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite shake the image of his warm smile or the sound of his voice. And a part of you—just a small part—hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was more to Spencer Reid than the rumors said.

—

You were rushing, nerves jangling through your body like alarm bells. You were running late—really late—and all you could think about was getting to your exam on time. In your panic, you didn’t see the corner coming, your eyes glued to your watch as you cursed yourself for oversleeping. You rounded the bend with way too much speed, and before you could react, you collided hard into someone else. The force knocked you off balance, sending you sprawling to the ground, your books and papers flying in a wild scatter across the floor.

“Oh my!” came a startled voice. “I am so, so sorry, I was just looking for—oh, hi.”

You winced as you propped yourself up on your elbows, but the moment you looked up, your heart sank and soared all at once. There, standing over you, was none other than Professor Reid. He was staring down at you with wide eyes, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern, and his mouth opened as if he wasn't sure whether to apologize or help you up first.

“Oh my God,” you muttered under your breath, scrambling to get back up, your face flushing hot. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, I just—”

“No, no, please, don’t apologize,” Spencer said quickly, his voice soft but urgent as he bent down to your level. “That was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention either.” He reached out to help you up, his hands gentle as he grasped your arm and steadied you, making sure you didn’t trip over yourself as you stood. “Are you okay?” he asked, eyes darting over you to make sure you weren’t hurt. “I didn’t, um... hurt you or anything, did I?”

“No, I’m fine, really,” you said, though you could feel your whole body tingling from where he touched you, the warmth of his hand lingering even as he let go. You brushed off your pants, trying to regain any semblance of composure despite the fact that you were now not only late but completely flustered.

Spencer began gathering your scattered books and papers, handing them to you with the same focused attention he gave to everything else. He was quick, efficient, but still careful, making sure to line up the pages neatly before passing them back into your hands. “Here you go,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “You, um... dropped a few things.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the books from him and clutching them to your chest. And then you remembered. “Oh my God, my exam!” You looked at your watch again, the numbers glaring back at you as if taunting your lateness. “I... I have to go, I’m so sorry, Professor Reid, but I really need to—”

“Wait, wait,” Spencer interrupted, a spark of understanding lighting up his eyes. “Is it in the main lecture hall? The big one across campus?”

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “I have, like, five minutes to get there or I'm screwed.”

“Then we’d better hurry,” he said, a determined smile breaking across his face. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

“Y-you don’t have to do that, I mean—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Spencer insisted, already starting to lead the way. “I’m heading that direction anyway.” You both knew that wasn’t true but then, with a quick glance back at you, he added, “Besides, it’s the least I can do after, you know... knocking you over.”

You felt a laugh bubble up in your throat, despite the chaos of the moment. “Okay, thanks,” you said, falling into step beside him. It was a strange, surreal thing—running across campus with Professor Reid at your side, his long legs matching your frantic pace. And even though you were still panicking about being late, there was something oddly comforting about his presence, like the whole situation was slightly less catastrophic just because he was there.

“Don’t worry,” he said between breaths, casting a reassuring glance your way as you both hurried down the path. “You’ll make it. I’ll make sure you get there on time.”

You made it to your exam with barely a minute to spare, heart still racing from sprinting across campus and the whirlwind encounter with Professor Reid. As you settled into your seat, your mind was a jumbled mess of nerves, exhaustion, and the lingering thrill of having Spencer Reid rush beside you, determined to get you there on time. The reality of having bumped into him—literally—and seeing his concerned, handsome face up close again was a distraction you struggled to push away. But as the exam papers were passed out and you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus, you felt a small swell of determination rising within you.

It wasn’t just about passing the exam anymore. No, it was about doing well—really well—because a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d run into Professor Reid again. And if you did, and if he asked you how your exam had gone, you wanted to be able to look him in those warm, interested eyes and say, “I crushed it.”

And so you put everything into it. Every formula, every theory, every bit of knowledge you’d crammed into your brain over the past few weeks. The hours passed in a blur of scribbled answers and focused thought, and by the time you handed in your paper, you felt a surge of pride and relief. You knew you’d done your best—maybe even better than your best.

—

The new term had settled into a predictable rhythm for you: classes in the morning, work in the afternoons, and then hours spent in the library for some uninterrupted study time. By the third week, you found a comforting routine in the silence and solitude of your favorite corner, tucked away but not too far from the bustle of the main floor. It was your place to dive into note-taking, to tackle assignments, and to escape from the chaos of student life. And though your schedule was tiring, there was something satisfying about the repetition—class, work, library, sleep, repeat.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and you were in the thick of your study session, textbooks spread across the table, fingers tapping absently against your highlighter as you scanned the pages. You were deep into a chapter on sustainable building design when a shadow fell over your table, and you heard a voice.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?”

You looked up, and immediately, your breath caught in your throat. You didn't need to see his face to know who it was, but the confirmation was still enough to make your heart skip a beat. Professor Reid stood there with that same friendly, slightly awkward smile, his bag slung over his shoulder and a stack of books in his arms.

“Professor Reid,” you greeted with a smile of your own, trying not to let on how quickly your pulse was racing. “Of course, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” he said, his eyes crinkling in that gentle way as he pulled out the chair across from you. He sat down, settling his things on the table with a soft thud, and for a moment, you were both just... there, in the kind of companionable silence that libraries are made for. Spencer pulled out his own work, a notebook and a pile of papers, and began arranging them neatly before him, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against the edge of a binder.

“Preparing for midterms?” he asked after a moment, glancing up at you with a tilt of his head, genuinely interested.

“Yeah,” you sighed, giving a little shrug as you gestured to your scattered materials. “Trying to get ahead, make sure I don’t fall behind. You know how it is.”

“I do,” he laughed softly, his gaze drifting to the open book in front of you. “I’m writing one, actually. One of the joys of being on the other side of the classroom.”

“Wow,” you said, the laughter bubbling up before you could stop it. “That... actually sounds like way more pressure than taking one.”

“It can be,” Spencer admitted, a lighthearted grin playing on his lips. “I always end up overthinking it, trying to make the questions fair but challenging, relevant but not too obscure. It’s like creating a puzzle that someone’s actually going to solve.”

You nodded along, smiling at how earnest he was. “That sounds... kind of like how I feel about taking exams, actually. Trying to solve the puzzle without knowing if you even have all the right pieces.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair, his eyes lighting up as he considered that. “Exactly,” he said, like he’d never thought of it that way before. “It’s a lot like that. But the fun part is watching the different ways people solve it, the different approaches and interpretations. It’s... fascinating, really.”

As he spoke, you couldn’t help but watch him, his hands moving expressively as he talked, the way he was so animated about his work. You’d heard him lecture from afar, but this—this was different. There was something more intimate about being across from him like this, sharing space, sharing thoughts.

You smiled, leaning forward a bit. “Sounds like you really enjoy it.”

“I do,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. “It’s nice to be able to help people understand things, to make learning something enjoyable instead of a chore.”

You nodded, and for a while, the two of you sat there, working side by side, an unspoken connection forming over the shared silence and occasional exchanges. And though you were both absorbed in your own work, you knew now that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d find yourselves at the same table, sharing the same quiet space amidst the noise of college life.

Every Thursday for the rest of the term, your routine became intertwined with Spencer’s. You’d meet in your usual spot in the library, setting up your notes and books, and he'd arrive not long after, dropping into the chair across from you like he belonged there. And for hours, you’d sit together—sometimes in comfortable silence, sometimes falling into deep conversations about classes, life, and everything in between. It was almost comical when, after weeks of these meetings, he finally looked up at you, eyes wide with realization, and laughed softly.

“You know,” he said, smiling sheepishly, “I don’t think I ever asked you your name.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, blurting it out in a rush, and he repeated it back to you like he was savoring the sound of it. And just like that, something clicked into place. He’d ask about your exams, your grades, always genuinely interested in how you were doing. You, in turn, asked about his lectures and the classes he was teaching, and he would share his thoughts on the challenges of balancing students’ needs, all with that passion and depth you had come to expect from him.

Your friendship blossomed, but it was always contained to those Thursday evenings at the library. It was a boundary neither of you seemed to cross—studying together, talking, connecting, but never making plans outside of the walls of academia. And that was fine, for a time. But as the end of your freshman year loomed closer and summer break approached, the thought of leaving and not seeing Spencer every week weighed on you more than you’d expected.

One Thursday, when you could barely focus on your notes because of it, you found yourself fidgeting, chewing on your pen cap as you tried to summon the courage to speak. Eventually, you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Spencer?” you asked, your voice quiet over the hum of the library around you.

“Mhm?” he responded, not looking up from the papers he was reading through but giving a small nod to show he was listening.

You swallowed, nerves bubbling up, but pushed through. “Would you, um, want to come over after exams end? You know, to... say goodbye to the year?”

Spencer paused, his pen freezing mid-note, and he looked up, surprise flashing across his features. He hadn’t expected that, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind as he considered your offer. The idea of spending time together outside the library, beyond your weekly tradition, was both tempting and concerning for him. He’d grown fond of your friendship, of the way you made him laugh and didn’t expect anything from him except a shared space and genuine conversation. But, deep down, a part of him still feared being used like so many others had.

Yet, there was something earnest in your eyes, something that made him think maybe, just maybe, you really did just want to hang out. To be friends, and nothing more. He let out a small breath, nodding slowly. “Sure,” he said, offering a tentative smile. “What did you have in mind?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you hoped the heat wasn’t too obvious as you scratched the back of your neck, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “Uh, I didn’t plan that far ahead,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “Maybe... a movie? Just something casual.”

“Casual,” he repeated, almost as if testing the word out, and then his smile widened, a bit of relief and something like excitement brightening his eyes. “Yeah. A movie sounds good.”

And just like that, you found yourself looking forward to what might be the start of something new—something beyond Thursday study sessions, something more than a quiet routine.

The Friday after final exams, you paced your dorm room, nerves buzzing through you like electricity. You'd barely slept since inviting Spencer over—second-guessing every detail, every word you’d said. But now, as you checked your phone again, you reminded yourself that it was just a movie, just two friends hanging out to say goodbye to the year. Nothing more. You tried to convince yourself that it was normal to be this excited.

And right on time—exactly at 7 p.m.—you heard a knock at your door. Spencer's punctuality didn’t surprise you, but it did send a rush of excitement through your veins. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, before walking over to the door and opening it.

There he stood, dressed in casual jeans and a plain button-up shirt, looking somehow both effortlessly put together and adorably uncertain all at once. His curls were a bit messy, his glasses slightly askew, and he clutched a bag of something in his hands, which he immediately offered up to you with a slightly bashful smile.

“Um, I wasn’t sure if I should bring something, so I, uh, brought snacks?” he said, holding up the bag like it was a peace offering. You could see a mix of candy, chips, and a few other treats inside.

You grinned, stepping aside to let him in. “You didn’t have to bring anything, but thank you—that’s perfect.” You felt a wave of relief wash over you as he stepped into your room, glancing around with curious eyes as he took in the posters on the wall, the books scattered on your desk, the remnants of your rushed packing for summer break.

“Your roommate left already?” he asked, looking over at the other, empty half of the room.

“Yeah, they went home the day after finals,” you said, trying not to sound too relieved about having the room to yourself. “So it’s just us.”

“Just us,” Spencer repeated, the words hanging in the air with a nervous tinge in his voice. He smiled softly and set the bag of snacks on your bed, taking off his shoes and settling in as if he were almost comfortable—almost.

“So,” you began, moving to sit beside him, your nerves starting to subside as you relaxed into the familiar presence of your study partner turned friend. “I thought we could just pick something light to watch, you know? Nothing too serious.”

“Light sounds good,” Spencer nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose, and for a moment, there was that playful glimmer in his eyes—the same one you’d seen during your library sessions, when a joke or comment would catch him off guard.

You leaned forward to pick up the remote, scrolling through the options until you landed on a few comedies and light-hearted movies. You tossed out a few suggestions, and eventually, the two of you settled on a movie neither of you had seen before—some easygoing, feel-good flick that you knew would make you both laugh and not require too much thinking. You hit play, and as the opening credits rolled, you sank back into the pillows, side by side with Spencer.

There was a comforting quiet between you, a sense of familiarity even in the newness of the situation. And as the movie played and the two of you slowly started sharing the snacks he’d brought, laughing at the jokes on-screen, you felt that same feeling you always did on Thursday nights—the calm certainty that, somehow, this was exactly where you were meant to be.

The movie had been on for about thirty minutes, and both of you were already lost in the silly over-the-top humor. It wasn’t long before the playful energy from the screen found its way into your own conversation, and you couldn’t resist teasing Spencer a little every time he laughed at something you found particularly cheesy.

“Oh, come on,” you grinned, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I can’t believe you’re actually laughing at this. I thought you had... you know, a refined sense of humor.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, I can appreciate a good joke, okay? Even the dumb ones. It’s called versatility,” he said, giving you a sidelong glance before popping a piece of candy into his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” you said, leaning closer as if you were about to share a secret. “You’re just pretending to like it so you don’t hurt my feelings.”

He chuckled, turning to face you, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him as his knee bumped lightly against yours. “Trust me,” he said, voice low with that familiar teasing lilt, “I’m not pretending. I genuinely think this movie is... absurdly entertaining.”

“Absurdly entertaining, huh?” you said, narrowing your eyes as you leaned in just a little more, close enough to see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes. “I think that’s code for ‘terrible but in a fun way.’”

“Okay, maybe it is a little terrible,” he admitted, laughing openly now. “But in the best way.”

The lightness in his voice, the ease with which you bantered—it felt effortless. And then, suddenly, there was a shift. His laughter trailed off as he looked at you, his gaze lingering just a beat longer than usual. Your faces were so close, your knees brushing, your shoulders almost touching, and you noticed the way he was looking at you—like he was trying to decide something.

Spencer’s mind was a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts. He wanted to flirt, to let the playful banter turn into something more, but a voice in his head reminded him of past experiences—where interest in him was just a prelude to sex, a quick thrill before moving on. He didn’t want that with you. You were different—kind, genuine, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever you had by crossing a line.

And ever since meeting you, Spencer hadn’t slept with anyone. Your study sessions, conversations, and simple presence filled a void in him; being around you was all the release he needed. Now, sitting beside you, he just wanted to keep this intact, afraid that taking a step further might shatter what he cherished so much.

Little did Spencer know, your own thoughts were tangled with doubt. You'd been excited for this night ever since he said yes, but now, sitting so close to him, you wondered if he'd only come over for the same reason he might have gone to others in the past: sex.

The whispers around campus about Professor Reid’s quick, casual flings were hard to ignore. Reconciling that with the sweet, earnest man beside you felt impossible, but still, the thought gnawed at you. What if, to him, you were just another fleeting encounter before summer ended?

You wanted to believe that your Thursday study sessions meant more than a prelude to something casual, but the worry hung there, making your hand pause before reaching for the snacks. What if you were misreading everything? And if this was just casual to him, could you handle it, or would you rather preserve what you had now?

You glanced at Spencer, who was focused on the movie but stealing nervous glances your way. It was clear he was treading carefully, and you could feel the irony—both of you caught on the edge, too afraid to find out what the other truly wanted.

When the movie ended, the credits rolling silently on the screen, neither of you moved to turn it off or get up. There was an unspoken tension in the room, a pull that made it hard for either of you to suggest that this night should end.

“Do you want to watch another movie?” you blurted out just as Spencer said, “I really like hanging out with you.”

You both paused, your words colliding mid-air, and then burst into laughter. It was awkward, sure, but it was the kind of awkward that felt endearing, pulling you closer instead of apart. The kind that made you grateful for the comfortable silence that followed, where you both sat smiling like fools.

“Another movie sounds great,” he said, the grin on his face not fading, and you nodded in agreement. You both took a break—stretching, refreshing snacks, and using the restroom. When you returned to your dorm room, you found Spencer sitting more toward the middle of your bed, and when you slid in next to him, your bodies ended up pressed tightly together, the heat of his side warming yours through your clothes. You were hyper-aware of every place where you touched, but neither of you pulled away.

“Your turn to pick,” you said softly, handing him the laptop.

Spencer flipped through the options with focused eyes, and finally, he settled on a film—a foreign romance, its title scrolling across the screen in delicate script. You raised an eyebrow, curious but also a little lost. “Spencer,” you said, trying not to sound too nervous, “I, uh, don’t speak French.”

His eyes met yours, and this time, the way he looked at you was different—more intense, like he was seeing something in you that hadn’t been spoken aloud. It sent a shiver down your spine. “That’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and almost intimate. “I can whisper translate for you... if you don’t mind.”

The idea of Spencer leaning in close, his voice softly whispering translations in your ear as romantic lines played out on the screen, made your heart race in a way you couldn't control. You could practically feel his breath on your neck already, the warmth of his words settling into your skin.

“Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper, the word catching on your lips as you tried to keep your composure.

You pressed play, and as the opening scene unfolded, you found yourself sinking deeper into the bed, Spencer’s body comfortably close to yours, and your heart pounding in anticipation of every word he would breathe into the small space between you.

The movie’s soft music and dreamy cinematography made it easy to get lost in its world, but it was Spencer’s voice—low, rich, and soothing—that anchored you. He leaned in, and his breath brushed against your skin as he whispered the translation, his tone low and almost reverent.

“Élise tells her...” he began, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket, “‘When I'm near you... everything disappears. The whole world, the sounds, time... there's only you and me.’”

The words hung in the air, and your senses were drawn to the way his lips moved against you as he concentrated on the words. You couldn't help but feel mesmerized by the way he brought the romance to life, the intensity in his whisper making your skin tingle with every syllable.

“Juliet replies...” he continued, not yet noticing how your attention was fully on him now. “‘You are the reason I breathe, Élise. Every beat of my heart... it whispers your name. If I could, I would spend every second of my life looking at you.’”

And that’s exactly what you did now—look at him. His eyes were still on the screen, but there was something in his expression that felt vulnerable, open, as if he wasn’t just translating lines, but baring something deeper, something unspoken between you. You couldn’t resist leaning in just a little closer, every inch of your body hyper-aware of the closeness between you.

“‘Then look at me... and never let me go,’” he whispered, and when he finally turned to meet your gaze, the intensity in his eyes nearly took your breath away. His voice was softer, more intimate, as if he was no longer speaking for the movie characters but for the two of you alone. “‘Because without you, I'm lost. You are my everything.’”

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as you stared at each other, your faces so close now that you could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, the way his breath came out just a bit more quickly. Spencer’s eyes searched yours, and you could see the hesitation in them, the question he didn’t dare ask.

“‘I promise you... never, ever will I let you go,’” he whispered, his voice barely audible, his lips only a breath away. “‘Because I love you... more than anything in the world.’”

Neither of you moved, frozen in that charged space between a word and a touch, every part of you yearning to close the gap as the rest of the world fell away.

The words hung in the air, your shared gaze brimming with something unspoken and heavy. And then, as if on cue, both of you turned your eyes back to the screen, where Élise and Juliet leaned in, their faces close, the tension snapping as they fell into a deep, passionate kiss. The soft sounds of the movie filled the silence between you.

“Do you want me to translate that?” Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm on your cheek. The words were teasing but tentative, laced with a hope that sent a shiver down your spine.

But before he could say anything more, before you could second-guess the pounding of your heart, you closed the space between you. Your lips met his in a sudden, breathless kiss that left no room for doubt or hesitation. The taste of him, soft and warm, was everything you had imagined it would be. You felt Spencer’s sharp inhale, the surprise in his body, but then he melted into you, his mouth moving against yours like it was something he'd been waiting for all along.

His hand came up to cup your cheek, gentle but sure, pulling you closer, and the world disappeared—just like Élise had whispered—leaving only you and him in the electrifying moment of finally letting go.

Deep down, both of you felt that nagging worry—was this just a fleeting moment, a one-time thing? But as your lips moved together, those thoughts slipped away, overwhelmed by the heat of the moment, the desperation in every kiss and touch. Spencer laid you back gently, his hands trembling slightly as he held you, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you wanted to stop. But there was only desire and your verbal confirmation, and so he continued, showing you the skills he’d learned over the past year.

And when the clothes were shed and the vulnerability became all-consuming, you allowed him to take your virginity, holding back that delicate truth out of embarrassment over your own inexperience. You didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want to add more pressure to a moment already so fragile and important to you both. Spencer, in turn, treated you with a reverence that spoke to his genuine care, his every touch slow and deliberate, like he was savoring each second.

It was the most passionate, mind-blowing experience Spencer had ever had. Every gasp, every whispered name, every shared look made it clear why—it was you, and it felt like something more than just sex, something deeper, like he was baring his soul alongside his body. When it was over, the two of you lay tangled together, hearts still racing, bodies wrapped around each other like you could hold the moment in place forever. And in that perfect silence, Spencer’s arms became a haven, and you drifted off to sleep, feeling safe, happy, and loved.

But morning came like a cold shock. You reached out across the bed, seeking his warmth, and found only emptiness. The sheets were cool, and Spencer was gone—no note, no sign of him ever having been there. The joy, the love, the comfort you’d fallen asleep to vanished with the sunrise, leaving behind an aching emptiness and the haunting fear that maybe all your doubts were true.

—

Summer came and went, and though the days were warm and filled with distractions, nothing eased the emptiness Spencer left behind. The pain of waking up to find him gone never faded, and as you returned to campus for your sophomore year, the ache of his absence settled in deeper, an open wound that wouldn’t heal.

You looked for him—hoping to see that familiar face in the library, in a lecture hall, anywhere on campus—but every search ended in disappointment. It was like he’d vanished, leaving not a trace behind. Over the next three years, you went through the motions, diving into your studies and trying to let go of what happened, but the memory of him never left, haunting every quiet moment and making you wonder what you'd done wrong.

The truth was clear to you now: Spencer had used you, filling some void in himself for one night, and then disappearing, leaving a much larger void in your own heart.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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velocesainz · 1 year ago

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Hii!

Could you possibly do a Percy Jackson smut with Percy fucking the brat out of reader, his rival? Rough sex with degrading and praise pls and ty 🫶🏼🫶🏼

A/n:This was quite an interesting request for me to write, thank you for the idea! All character have been aged up (19-20)

More than rivalry

Percy jackson masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: Percy gets jealous seeing you (his rival) with another boy and decides to fuck you to make sure you remember that you are his but you end up being too cocky for his liking

Warnings: smut, degradation

Pairing: Percy x daughter of Zeus! Reader

Reader pov:

I was practising my archery skills with some Apollo kids and we were actually having a lot of fun

Over the time I had spent Robert over the past few days perfecting my archery we both really grew close together

He was one of the very few people at camp who were actually friends with me for me and not because I was Zeus’s daughter.

While we were training I clumsily fell over a rock and was about to go crash into the ground but Robert caught me in time.

We stayed in the position for a little bit not knowing what to do.

We looked at each other with soft and gentle eyes, like how friends would rather than people who like each other though it seemed otherwise to most.

It was a sweet moment we both were trying to savour when a bellowing voice split us apart

“Oi thunder witch! What are you doing, let the poor guy out of his misery and do some practising on your own yea?” Yelled the voice that I really didn’t want to hear right now

Percy motherfucking Jackson

“Ocean ass how about you go bother someone else. He’s here with me at his own will for your kind information. Care more about your friends yea?” I retorted

I wanted to leave the arena as fast as possible so I bid Robert goodbye and left for my cabin

Percy pov:

Crisis averted.

I didn’t let Robert and y/n have their moment.

Why the fuck out of all the girls here does Robert have to go for y/n?

He has like a hundred girls dying for him.

Doesn’t he know she’s mine?

I know we seem like enemies but I wish to fuck like every second of the day at this point

She’s just so beautiful and that attitude damn.

I had a plan to get y/n away from every other guy, not just Robert.

Reader pov:

I was sitting in my cabin reading a book when I heard a knock on my door

That’s odd, I thought

Nobody was usually free at this hour in the evening

Everyone was too busy scheming for capture the flag except me of course

I wasn’t allowed to participate along with Percy since we were a tad bit overpowered

I walked over and opened the door and before I could figure out who it was they shoved me against the wall and started kissing me

I pushed the figure away and tried to run but they caught me

“Don’t try to run bitch. You need to be taught a lesson. Now be a good little slut and listen to what I say or the consequences will be severe for you” the figure whispered in my ear.

Then I realised who it was

Percy.

I was feeling cocky today so I decided to tease him a little

“You sure you can be intimidating and dominating seaweed brain? I don’t think you can even satisfy me forget punishing me”I replied with a smirk gracing my features

“Oh you asked for this whore. By the time I’m done with you you will be so dumb for my cock that you won’t even remember your name. Just you wait “ he said in a Husky voice which turned me on more than I would like to admit

He started removing my clothes as fast as he could and I couldn’t help but sneak in a cheeky comment

“Desperate are we?” Boy oh boy was this a bad decision

“I’m going to fuck that cocky attitude right out of you. You really just can’t keep your mouth shut can you whore?” Percy said and threw me in my bed

Undressing himself he got on the bed and made his way towards me like a predator approaching its prey

He moved my panties to the side and roughly shoved his cock inside me without any warning

“A-ah p-p-Percy that hurts sto-“ I was cut off by a slap I received

“Shut the fuck up slut. You were the one who was acting all cocky just a few minutes ago. Bitches like you don’t deserve to be cared for” Percy panted as he continued thrusting in and out

His pace was ungodly. He kept thrusting in and out of me letting my pussy drink up his cock

I felt like I was losing my mind as he hit my g-spot repeatedly completely abusing it

“O-oh fuck your pussy is tight. G-gods I’m going to come. Ah yea just like that” He whispered huskily

“I am going to cum too Percy” I told him

“No no. You don’t get to cum you little slut. You’ve been a really back whore for me. You don’t get to cum today, deal with it yourself” Percy said as he came in me

He got dressed quickly and left leaving me a panting and unsatisfied mess

Goddamit jackson.

A/n: let me know if you guys liked this fic or if you have any feedback! Requests are still on hold unfortunately but they’ll be opened soon. Kissies ✨

#percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson smut #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you

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boobertronian · 6 months ago

Text

INTRODUCTION

About me !

I’m TRONIAN, I’m a smut writer and Concept Artists/ Designers in my daily life.

I love Kpop both musics and visuals so it’s great to share interests. I also really like Gravure Idols ! And not just Kpop, Us-Uk musics and such too !

I love arts, yes, I really do, things related to the artistic side of life will catch my interests a lot. I do concept arts and visual designs for games and movies for a living so I’m very interested in it !

I also love sports, even the ones i’m not very interested in I would love to take a look. I’m doing calisthenics and a bit of kickboxing in my routines so I’ll be interested to that , or football/soccer because i love watching Premier League, La Liga, Bundesliga,etc.

I’m a nerd, I collect a lot of toys , action figures and I love watching things nerd related : STAR WARS, Transformers ,Marvel, DC, TOKUSATSU, Bionicle, Gundams, etc or films in general. They are my inspirations for the things I do in my career !

RULES

Since Tumblr is a jungle, I want to set some rules when you visit :

1/ I’m pretty chill when talking to people, but I won’t tolerate rude comments , hateful , overly negative , immature/ inconsiderate or aggressive behaviors here. It's fine to have discussion and such, but don't drag or overdo it like a bunch of political debates, it's very tiring and also doesn't bring anything to the table but heated arguments. I’ll give you 3 chances to redeem yourselves if you accidentally do, if not I’ll block you for real. Too many of these sorts of behaviors in most fandoms already so I do not welcome that sort here in my blog. We're all adults, better act civil to each others rather than bickering over some hobbies. Therefore, DON’T BE A DICK !

2/ I’m not liking kinks such as daddy, mommy , sub/dom kinks or anything like that, so please don’t ask me about it cause I won’t reply to those questions, and also because I don’t know how to talk about thoses. I’m very sorry about this, please understand about my boundaries on this one.

3/ I'm open to feedbacks on the smuts, you can give me feedbacks through my asks and commenting on my fics. Theses would help me to improve my writing skills too, and I'm fully appreciated. . But then again, be a civil and respectful one rather than being utterly hateful and toxic without bringing much values into it . Receiving feedbacks are something I get nearly everyday in my line of works, and I can tell which one is actually helpful , constructive criticism and quality feedbacks rather than ones that are just outright distasteful. So therefore, BE A CRITICAL THINKER BEFORE YOU COMMENT.

4/ WARNING : Underage lewd , minors , racist, sexist , homophobic, misogynistic and sexual harassment behaviors are INSTANT BLOCK . We’re already have too much douchebags in real life so don’t be one here, INSTANT BLOCK IF YOU DO. I don't like to block anyone so please don't push me over my edge.

5/ WARNING AGAIN : I don’t tolerate AI Generative/Deepfakes for idols. IT’S A REAL WORLD CRIME , DON’T DO IT OR SUGGEST ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN HERE AND DON'T OVERSTEP MY LINES ON THIS MATTER. I ALREADY BLOCKED AND SNAPPED BACK AT MANY, PLEASE DON'T LET ME GET TO THIS STAGE, THANK YOU.

Other than that welcome to the blog ! ! Hopefully you'll like my fics !

MASTERLIST

Workout time !

When female idols are having extra times with trainers

All works are fictions

Muay Thai - Part 1 - Jihyo (SMUT)

Muay Thai - Part 2 - Nayeon (SMUT)

Calisthenics - Part 1 - Karina (SMUT)

Calisthenics - Part 2 - Karina (SMUT)

Conventional Gym - Eunbi (SMUT)

One Shots

One shots or shorter fics for Idols, including both Kpop and Gravure Idols

All works are fictions

Windy Beach - Io Iori (SMUT)

Outdoor Shoot - Ai Shinozaki (SMUT) Cosplay Party - Cheng Xiao (SMUT)

Backstage Fun - Jihyo & Nayeon (SMUT)

Tokyo Drift - Momo (SMUT)

Onlyfans - Giselle (SMUT)

Series :

Studio Overtime

Due to the successful of Jihyo's one shot, I've decided to expand it into a short series for her ( will update more over time too)

All works are fiction

Studio Overtime - Chap 1 (SMUT)

Studio Overtime - Chap 2 (SMUT)

HENSHIN - A KAMEN RIDER STORY

A superhero story from myself with a touch of SMUTS based on the legendary Tokusatsu series : Kamen Rider , and our lovely KPOP Girls

All works are fictions

EPISODE 0 : Prologue

EPISODE 1 : CYAN (IVE) (SMUT)

EPISODE 2 : MAGENTA (EVERGLOW) (SMUT)

EPISODE 3 : YELLOW (TWICE) (SMUT)

EPISODE 4 : BLACK (AESPA) (SMUT)

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woso-dreamzzz · 8 months ago

Text

Chook's Halloween

Kewis x Child!Reader

Summary: The thirteenth of my Halloween-centric fics

"Looking good, Sam!" Erin whistles," Indiana Jones!"

Sam rolls her eyes. "Don't say that with Chook around. She won't be very happy."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I'm not Indiana Jones."

"Yes, you are. You're all-" Erin makes a vague gesture "-Sexy."

Sam laughs. "Well don't let Kristie hear you say that."

"If you're not Indiana Jones then who are you?"

"Owen Grady."

"Who?"

"Owen Grady."

"Who's that? Your neighbour?"

"No," Sam replies, rolling her eyes," The guy from Jurassic World."

Clarity dawns in Erin's eyes. "Oh, so this is a Chook costume."

"Yeah," Sam admits," It's a Chook costume. She was very excited. Kristie's meant to be Claire, Helen's Maisie."

"And Chook's a dinosaur?"

Sam sighs. "And Chook's a dinosaur."

The door to the gym swings open again and someone shrieks.

You trot in, arms lifted up like a dinosaur.

"Well," Erin says," That's certainly-"

"Blue!" You say, pulling up your velociraptor mask to reveal your face," I'm Blue, Erin! From Jurassic World! Rawr!"

Your excitement is palpable as you run around the gym in my dinosaur costume.

"Should I know who Blue is?" Erin asks as she watches you sneak up behind Millie to scare her.

"It's the velociraptor from Jurassic World," Sam explains," The one that doesn't die."

"They die?"

"Yeah but don't bring it up to Chook. It makes her cry."

Halloween is always hit or miss for you.

You either enjoy it so much you're bursting from happiness or you're too scared to even watch some Halloween movies with your mothers and spend your time curled up with Helen and your toys.

Sam doesn't want this ruined for you even if it's just an accidental comment on Erin's part.

"Mom!" You call and Sam turns to give you some attention.

"Yes, Chook?"

"Mom, look! I'm a dinosaur! Rawr!"

"Wow," Sam says in mock shock," You really scared me there, Chook."

"Don't worry, Mom," You say, patting her side," I'm not actually a real dinosaur. It's just a mask. See." You pull your mask up so Sam can see your face. "It's still me."

Sam looks down at you with a fond smile, lightly ruffling your hair and tugging at the tail at the back of your costume. "Well I'm glad it's still you Chook. I'd hate to have to explain to Mommy that we've got a little dinosaur now and not a little girl."

"Don't worry," You tell her," I'm not old enough for be a full dinosaur yet. Maybe next year though."

Sam laughs, sliding your mask back over your face. "Maybe next year."

Training is lots of fun with everyone so impressed by your dinosaur costume and the staff even give you lots of sweeties even though you didn't Trick-or-Treat them.

"Mommy!" You call as Sam unlocks the apartment door," Mommy, we're back!"

Kristie pops her head around the wall. "Oh, wow, Chook, looking good."

"Silly, Mommy," You rebuke her, giggling as she flutters kisses over your face," You saw me this morning."

"And I can't think you're still looking good? Maybe you're the silly one Chook."

"You're not dressed yet," You look at Kristie through narrowed eyes," You have to dress up, Mommy. It's a family costume. It can't just be me, Mom and Helen."

Kristie laughs. "There's plenty of time. We've still got to eat dinner before we go trick or treating."

You huff, blowing out all of your air noisily. "But that's ages away!"

Kristie ruffles your hair, taking your mask from you to put on the side. "Well little dinosaurs like you can't go out trick or treating without being fully fed. You might eat everyone!"

"Silly, Mommy. I'm not big enough to eat people yet."

"I don't look the way she said 'yet'," Sam snickers to Kristie before addressing you," Well, you won't get big enough to do that if you don't eat. Mommy's cooked us some dino nuggies."

You narrow your eyes in thought, darting them between Sam and Kristie.

"Triceratops nuggies?"

"Uh-huh."

You nod. "Good because they're herbivores. Carnivores like me eat herbivores!"

#woso x reader #kewis x reader #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr #kristie mewis x reader #kristie mewis #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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kenyummy · 18 days ago

Note

I totally get where you’re coming from, but when you’ve got readers that love your work and are willing to wait days for updates, don’t you think you should deliver with at least some effort? I get what you’re doing with the commas but sometimes it’s just too much. There are some parts where your goal is clearly to make it dramatic, but the execution of the comma just makes it cringe in the end. It honestly just ruins the experience.

sorry, this is getting kind of ridiculous and this pissed me off to the point i think this warrants a reply. what do you mean deliver with at least some effort? i get it if you dont enjoy my writing style, everyone has their preferences. but to say I don't put effort into my writing is one: quite frankly rude, and two: completely wrong.

im not too sure if you're a writer or not, but if you are, then you'll understand it when I mean you have good and bad days. sometimes i can barely get out a sentence without hating it, and other days, I can write 4k words in 2 hours with no issue. sometimes i vent my feelings into my work without really thinking about punctuation and wording: ergo, commas.

god forbid i overuse a writing tool... like... what 😭 this is genuinely such a stupid thing to say and the fact that u feel entitled enough to say that I'm OBLIGED to put "effort" into my work because people on the internet want it is ABSOLUTELY INSANE to me.

again, i do this for FUN. I don't want to pursue writing professionally. I don't want to be a full time writer, so I don't need critiscm. I don't take requests because I only write when I want to, and get things out when I feel like it. readers like you who act like they deserve a new chapter of a fic i only do because i want a break from everyday life sometimes genuinely make me dread going through my inbox/comments sometimes.

I know you're probably only trying to be supportive, but this is absolutely the wrong way to go about it. if my work bothers you this much just read another fic. i don't want/need your criticism, it's very unnecessary.

in fact, I have plenty of writers stashed up for you that use NO commas! how about that? 😍. bet that'll be a nice break from the INFLUX of those stupid, pesky writing tools.

if u think my writing is cringe... well... I have an INSANE suggestion okay... don't read it... I know. crazy, right? nobody is entitled to a new chapter of a fucking tumblr fanfiction and you absolutely have no place to criticise my writing on ANONYMOUS. 😭😭 pm me if u have an issue then we will talk like actual adults thanks

(people on tumblr r so much more entitled than anywhere else, and I've been on four different fanfiction sites over the past 5 years. only ever got complaints about my writing on tumblr. insane.)

#🧸✰ the ballad of a bygone blight #spider reader #neglected reader #yandere batfam x neglected reader #platonic yandere batfam #batfam x neglected reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #anon answers !

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bleedingoptimism · 2 years ago

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𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

part 1

“You look pale,” Jeff comments making Eddie snort loudly.

Of course he looks pale, he’s got vampirism, doesn't he? But then again, so does Jeff and he looks great.

“When was the last time you fed?” He asks.

Eddie sighs heavily trying to reign in his bad mood. He knows Jeff’s just worried and wants to help, and he’s grateful to have run into an old friend from high school as soon as he moved into the big city.

Because he’d be utterly lost without him.

He doesn't know where anything is, he gets lost in the subway, and he has no idea when he’s being charged too much for a muffin or suspiciously too little for a hotdog, or where all the blood markets are.

“Like, two weeks ago,” Eddie finally answers.

Jeff looks surprised but it’s not actually that bad, people with vampirism can go up to 4 to 5 weeks without blood.

It’s not the same as those vampires from movies and books, they still eat food and they can stand in the sun with just minor cases of sunburn. There’s also the light sensitivity, making them all look like assholes wearing sunglasses everywhere.

Also, they are not allergic to garlic. Which, thank the heavens because Eddie loves garlic, a lot.

There’re a couple of side effects that do come in handy sometimes, like augmented hearing and smell. And the healing spit is super weird but nifty. No super strength regrettably, that would’ve been awesome.

Anyways, it’s like they have super anemia or something.

“I went to a blood bar, hooked up with some dude but. I didn't have a good time, at all. I kind of don't want to go back to bars for a while,” He elaborates and when Jeff frowns worried, he shakes his head,

“No, not like that. It’s just… the dude was like way too into it, you know? It kinda freaked me out.”

“What do you mean? Don't you find it hot? When you feed?” Jeff asks him, curious.

Eddie nods quickly, “Yes, of course I do! It can be really sexy with the right person, but this guy, he was like- like way too loud and like, he was faking it? I don’t for who, though. And halfway through it, I started getting worried I’d accidentally hired someone instead of just hooked up and I didn’t have any money, and then I started thinking about money and my dick-”

“Ok! Ok, I get it.” Jeff thankfully interrupts him. “Dude, why didn’t you say something, I know of a place. I didn’t mention it before because it’s kind of boujee and handles itself a little differently.”

“Oh? Do tell” Eddie tells him excitedly, he loves going to new places, especially if they are weird.

“Well, it’s real private, like ‘can’t get in unless you are on the list’ private. And it’s run by this girl. Blonde little thing, super cute. Scary as fuck. Everyone calls her ‘The Boss’” he says doing air quotes.

“Dramatic, I like it.” Eddie smiles.

Jeff chuckles, “So the gist of it it’s you go there and just hang out normally, like any other kind of bar. The place is beautiful, the music is good, and the drinks are delicious. But what's interesting about this place is the hostesses,” he says and even does a little pause for effect before continuing, “Similar to a blood bar there’re people there willing to be fed on but what’s cool about it is they get to choose.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That sounds kind of fun, actually.”

“Right? And it feels, safer somehow? For them?” Jeff agrees and Eddie nods and smiles at him, waiting for him to keep going.

“Anyway, the hostesses choose and then you get to go upstairs and talk through what you want to happen, just feeding, sex, talking, anything they agree to, it's on the table. I once ended up just playing a game of Uno with the girl I fed on and two other hostesses that hadn't picked anyone that night.” he finishes and Eddie laughs delightedly.

“Ok, this place sounds amazing, what’s the catch?”

“Well, you have to pay an entry fee, the drinks are expensive and there’s always the possibility you’ll leave empty-handed. The first time is free though,” Jeff says.

“Like drugs,” Eddie replies and Jeff nods solemnly,

“You know the hostesses can be kind of addicting.”

…

That night, on the way there, Jeff tells him they have to sign a guest list at the entrance,

“No one uses their real name, not because the place is shady or anything! But because they want to leave that choice to us and the hostesses if you ever get too close with one. It's not like, frowned upon.”

Eddie nods listening intently, he feels kind of nervous in a way he hasn't in a while, but he’s not sure why.

“Also, secret nicknames are fun! I’m known as Jay there. So please don’t dox me. Or yourself.” Jeff tells him.

After careful consideration, Eddie smiles and says, “I’ll be… Strider”

“Nerd”

“Shut up, you are just jealous you didn't come up with it yourself”

Jeff laughs, “You got me there,” he says, and then, “We are here” and he opens a big glass windowed door and vows to Eddie, inviting him in.

Eddie chuckles and enters and immediately almost runs into someone—a tall, massive guy with short curly hair and the shadow of a beard.

“Hey freak,” Jeff greets calmly, “He’s with me,”

Eddie cringes at the nickname, bad memories from high school bullying. But the dude just nods and gives Jeff the tiniest of smiles, so he figures it’s the nickname the bouncer chose for himself.

They enter and sign their name in the guest book, a girl about their age with dirty blond hair and hundreds of freckles on her nose and cheeks is there and she asks Eddie a couple of questions. Not in a weird way, but in a ‘you are new and I’m curious’ kind of way.

Eddie feels comfortable and excited as they go in.

Jeff was right, the place is beautiful. The lobby leads to a big room with high ceilings and fake candle-lit lamps. The chairs and tables are antiques and all different but roughly the same time period so they look good together. There’re old signs and posters from all kinds of drinks and different products adorning the walls. And the music is instrumental and oldie too, sounds like probably 40s or 50s.

It is incredibly boujee. But in a fun way, cozy and warm.

They get a seat at a small round table in a corner and Jeff lets Eddie look around for a while before asking,

“So? Weird right? It’s like stepping into another time,”

Eddie snorts, “Yeah, one that has no idea which time period it wants to repre- who is that?”

Jeff looks at where Eddie is looking and sighs, “Of course you noticed Sunshine,”

“Sunshine?” Eddie sighs.

“That’s what they call him. Because apparently he smells like flowers and summer and tastes like orgasms or something,” Jeff says amused rolling his eyes.

The guy, Sunshine, is probably the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life, definitely the most beautiful man in this room. His face is a contradiction of sharp and round angles that is just absolutely perfect, and he’s wearing a black suit that clings to his body like a second skin, showing off his big shoulders and his tiny waist. He’s looking around the room with big, brown eyes that look bored as he leans against a wall like he’s above it all, he’s a fucking dream.

Eddie swallows audibly and looks smirking at Jeff for a second before his eyes drift back to the man, “Tastes like what, you said” he teases and Jeff snorts.

“Not that anyone would know, as far as I know, he’s never taken anyone upstairs,” he tells Eddie in a conspiratory tone.

That makes him incredibly curious, “Really? Why is he still here then?”

“I don’t know for sure, mostly rumors but he’s the boss’s favorite, that’s for sure. Oh!” Jeff exclaims and then nods his head to a girl sitting on the other side of the room, in a big fancy-looking chair that looks more like a throne than a simple piece of furniture.

She’s got blonde hair up in a ponytail and she’s wearing a flowery dress but there's something about the way she looks around the room, something about the way people walk around her and look at her, with respect or fear, or maybe both. She’s fucking intimidating.

While Eddie’s looking, the girl from the front desk, with the freckles, comes to sit on a small stool beside the “throne”, there’s another one on the other side that’s empty. The blonde girl moves her hand towards freckles and she kisses it and then her shoulder and smiles as she leans in closer and starts whispering to her.

It’s kind of surreal.

“That’s The Boss, and the girl from the entrance, that’s Sparrow. She’s her girl.” Jeff explains.

“Respect for looking scary in a sundress,” Eddie comments.

And Jeff nods, “Anyways my theory is, Sunshine is actually just a bodyguard and not a hostess but the people that come here like to think they actually have a chance with him, so no one says anything to the contrary.”

Eddie snorts and nods, it makes sense. It's actually very good marketing, just like the ‘the first one is free’ thing. That boss girl is really smart with her business.

Jeff and he get a few drinks and they chat calmly, Jeff isn't looking to go upstairs tonight, he only came by to accompany Eddie and Eddie knows he should be looking around, trying to make eye contact with someone, but he can stop staring at Sunshine.

He even looked at their table at one point, and Eddie thought he was going to faint. He was scanning the room as he apparently does every couple of minutes when he caught Jeff’s eye and Jeff lifted his hand in greeting.

And Sunshine’s face completely transformed, his bored calculating expression changed into a beautiful smile that made his eyes shine. He wiggled his fingers at Jeff cutely before going back to looking like fucking Droopy Dog. If Droopy was the sexiest motherfucker alive. It was amazing to see.

Eddie’s jaw almost hit the table and he turned to look at Jeff stunned and he just shrugged,

“Sunshine was one of the hostesses I ended up playing Uno with. He’s fucking vicious,” he says smiling at the memory.

Eddie chuckles as his eyes follow Sunshine moving across the room, he just can't. Stop. Looking.

But the thing is, Sunshine is looking back now. Keeping eye contact with him obviously and unashamed. It’s thrilling and it makes shivers run down his spine.

He watches as Sunshine sits on the stool on the other side of The Boss’s throne and grabs her hand and holds it, intertwining their fingers.

The Boss and her girl turn and look at him and the three of them start whispering, looking at him.

“Dude,” he says and turns to Jeff to see if he’s seeing what he’s seeing.

Jeff looks from him to the whispering party, “Un fucking believable, first time here and tonight is the night Sunshine is taking someone upstairs” he says looking fed up, but clearly in a joking manner.

“Is that what you think it’s happening? No way,” Eddie shakes his head as Sparrow says something that makes The Boss chuckle but Sunshine speaks up and she sobers up immediately. Curious.

“He’s looking right at you, he probably went to ask Sparrow about you,” Jeff insists.

“Maybe he’s looking at you”

“He’s seen me before,” Jeff scoffs.

He’s about to reply but their conversation gets interrupted by someone shily clearing their throat. A girl, a hostess, is looking at him with curious eyes, and shit… she’s cute and looks like a nice person but, Eddie can’t- he needs to know what those looks from Sunshine meant.

He needs him.

He looks back at the group quickly to see Sunshine and The Boss in deep conversation and Sparrow… is she glaring at him?

He rejects the girl, as nicely as possible and Jeff scoffs and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ under his breath again as Eddie turns to look back at Sunshine.

Who is walking toward them, holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Jeff says and then moves to stand. Eddie grabs his wrist and tries to pull him back.

“Wait what are you doing, dont-” But Jeff frees himself and starts walking away,

“Good luck!” He sings songs and then leaves him alone.

part 1: you are here

part 2: 👄

part 3: 🩸

bonus content: ☀️

ao3: 🌙

art: 🦇

coffee?☕🥐💕

#stranger things #steddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something

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mythals-whore · 4 months ago

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Some thoughts on fandom engagement

Post got long but TL;DR engagement is low, Never Ever Stop Creating! fandom is community and everyone needs to participate

extended thoughts and personal anecdote under the cut:

For writers:

I have turned off Kudos emails from ao3. I found myself checking my email and feeling discouraged when I didn't get them. So i turned the emails off so I wouldn't know I wasn't getting them. Even now when I go to my dashboard, I specifically do not look at the bottom of the work to see those numbers.

This is not me telling you to do the same thing. It is easier said than done, and I understand that. But that's what I had to do to have a good time.

Because for a little while, posting made it less fun. I felt like people didn't like it. I was being overly critical of myself, couldn't write more than three sentences without feeling like I was garbage and my work was garbage and I should just quit. I would post a chapter and then immediately want to take the whole thing down. But then I realized...

I have about four half-finished projects in my WIP folder. I have written like 500,000 words that no one has ever read. Because I had fun doing it! Because I enjoy writing!!

And the point of this isn't to say writers shouldn't want or expect engagement. That is not at all what I'm saying!

What I am saying is that if you enjoy writing and you find that posting your work is making you feel unmotivated, discouraged, and you're not having fun anymore it is okay to take it down. It’s okay to make your work private for a while. It's okay to turn off Kudos emails or even comments. Whatever you need to do to make it fun again, do that. If you enjoy creating, please do not let the lack of engagement stop you!

It's been really helpful for me to find a community of creators! Without the support of @thedissonantverses @flowersforthemachines and @basedonconjecture I may have deleted my work months ago!

And that said, if you want someone to read your work, there are so many people (including and especially me) who would love to read and promote you! Participate in WIP Wednesday and Writing Weekend! Promote your own work!! Promote other creators' work! This is how we build community!

For readers:

If you love fanfic, and fanart and fandom in general engage with it. The urge to take down your work is real! And not unique to me! If writers don't get kudos or comments or replies on tumblr, they will delete their work. If there's a fic you find, and you enjoy it but you don't engage with it do not be surprised if you log on one day and it isn't there anymore. Or if it gets orphaned. Or if they simply stop updating it.

Fandom is meant to be a community. The whole purpose of it is to enjoy the things you enjoy with other people. If you're consuming free work (be that fanfic, fan art or something else) and you're not liking or reblogging or commenting then those people will stop sharing it.

And my personal take, while we're here: I do not get it.

I do not understand why there are people out there who do not jump at the chance to directly engage with authors and artists who make things that you enjoy. You can tell them personally how much you like their work! You can ask them questions! You can send them your unhinged ramblings on The Character.

And before anyone comes to my replies and says: I never know what to say ))):

Here is a non-comprehensive list of 10 slightly unhinged things that I've actually commented on fics (some edited for brevity)

I am chewing on glass.

bye i’m putting my fist through the wall 😭

These two are consuming my every waking thought

That ruined me i fear. I have passed away

THIS IS LITERATURE. absolutely tore my heart out.

You are sick in the head my friend

Im gonna sip on this sentence a while.🤌🏻

how could you do this to them? writing about this in my burn book brb

A) You absolutely cooked here B) how fucking dare you?

kicking my feet and giggling!!!!!

And this isn't just for ao3/fanfic writers. Fanartists deserve love too! Artists love feedback!! The more unhinged the better!! Tell us we're evil! Quote our work back to us! Tell us you're smashing through walls like the Kool-aid man! Tell us that our work is making you scream and cry and blush!

No one is expecting you to leave several long paragraphs with an actual annotated review (not that that wouldn't also be welcome). Comment! Engage! Community is the whole point!

This also goes for finding Tumblr mutuals, by the way. If you want to make friends with people on here engage with their content! Like their posts! Reply to them! Send asks and messages!

Stop being afraid to enjoy things! That is like...all we are doing here.

#da fandom #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #building community #fic writing #fandom engagement #ao3 community #dragon age community #artists community #state of fandom #idk i really love it here #and I want you guys to love it #and the answer to all of the above is #please engage with each other #and I'm not the best at it either!#but I'm getting better!#and it's been so lovely!

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loving-barnes · 1 year ago

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LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR

A/N: It took me some time, but here we go again. Chapter Seven, my friends. Just something stupid, fun.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: none

Summary: It's a fun night out at a bar.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.

Words: 3300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Six

LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection. When was the last time she dressed up and put on make-up? She couldn’t recognise herself in the mirror. Since she came to the school, she would wear simple outfits and almost any make-up. Tonight, she wanted to look nice and make an impression on the people. Hell, she desired to catch Logan’s eyes. Honestly, she would catch his eyes even without all those things.

White blouse, dark blue jeans, black combat boots and a black leather jacket - this was her style. She put her hair into a high ponytail. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at herself in the mirror. It felt like lifetimes since she felt this confident and sexy. Damn, even the drawn cat-eye looked good.

She winked at herself in the mirror and then glanced at her phone. Yes, they’d given her a phone. It was time to head out. She put it into the back pocket of her jeans. Before leaving, she had to check herself one more time just to be sure everything was perfect.

To her surprise, she didn’t see any familiar faces. Usually, the students would walk around the school at this hour and hang out. Some noises came from the kitchen or the TV room. She didn’t recognise JJ’s voice. Maybe he was in his room.

Y/N made a mental note to spend more time with the boy. She didn’t keep her promise when she told him she’d come to him before the accident happened.

“Well, look at you,” said a voice beside her.

Y/N jumped, gasping. She was ready to hit the man in his face. “Jesus, Peter,” she glared at him. “You scared me, you ass,” she punched him in the shoulder. He could have easily dodged it, but he decided to not use his ability and laughed it off.

“You get scared easily, Y/N. You should work on that,” he winked at her. “Can I walk with you?” he raised a brow.

“You already are, so why ask?” she grinned at him.

They walked out of the school and headed to the main entrance gate. Peter kept his hands behind his back. He had silver aviator goggles on top of his head that matched his silver jacket. “So, Y/N, what is your weirdness? You know about mine. I want to know about yours.”

That made her laugh. “Nice way of saying it. I have, uh, protective abilities?”

“You ask, or you know?”

She glared at him playfully. “I know. I wasn’t sure if that description was correct. Let me put it this way - I can create and manipulate forcefields.”

“Nice.” That was his only comment. “So, you have a codename?”

“What?” she raised a brow.

“You know, like Scott is Cyclops. Logan is Wolverine. I am Quicksilver,” he explained. “Do you have any name you go by?”

Wheels were turning inside her head. “No,” she said. “I never thought about it, actually. Do I need one?” Was it necessary to have a codename? Holy shit, Logan was called the Wolverine? She could see why. It suited him well.

“That’s up to you, I guess. Okay, changing the topic - how long have you been here?”

“Over a month,” she replied. “It’s been a hell of a ride. What about you?”

He thought about it. “It’s been over a decade. I love this place, to be honest.”

They slowly approached the main gate. They could see some people standing there, talking. Y/N was sure Logan was not there. “You took a break or something?”

Peter nodded. “I needed some time off. It was all overwhelming. Charles granted me a lengthy vacation. I took a break, travelled the States, and here I am, ready to work again.”

Storm, Kitty and Kurt were the first three there, chatting. Y/N felt some excitement building inside of her. It was nice being a part of something bigger and better. Both Storm and Kitty were great women and friends. Were they friends? God, she hoped so. The last three to arrive were Bobby, Logan and Rogue. Rogue and Logan were squabbling. She couldn’t hear what it was about until she heard: “Let it fucking go, Rogue.”

She had to chuckle. What got Logan so worked up?

“Let’s fucking go, people,” Peter called them.

Thus, a thirty-minute walk to the bar started. Rogue linked arms with Y/N, and they walked ahead of everyone. Her arms were covered with gloves that hid under the denim jacket. That way, she could touch the other woman without fear of hurting her.

“Isn’t it annoying?” Y/N asked her.

“The gloves? Yes, a little bit. Luckily, I can touch Remy without them,” she said with a smile. “He’s the only person that I won’t hurt. I don’t know how it is possible, but I don’t care. What matters is that I can touch the person I love.”

“What if you subconsciously learnt to not hurt him?” Y/N thought out loud. “I can shut my brain from the Professor. I don’t know how, but I do it. Well, I might have already figured it out.”

They talked together the entire way to the bar. Rogue wouldn’t let anyone speak to Y/N. She wanted to have her for herself and get to know the woman better.

Y/N felt a pair of eyes on her back the whole time. She suppressed the urge to turn around and look at Logan. She was more than sure it was him staring at her. It kept happening until they arrived at the empty bar.

It looked like an old dive bar. Country music was playing in the background. An older-looking man was standing behind the bar, cleaning glasses. He had short white hair and glasses on his nose. When his grey eyes found a group of mutants at the door, he smiled.

“Welcome, friends,” he greeted them with a raspy voice. “I was wondering when I will see you again. Come, sit. Ah, I see a new face here,” his lips crooked into a smile.

Rogue grabbed Y/N by the shoulder and brought her closer to the man. “This is Y/N,” she said happily. “She’s been with us for some time now.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Y/N, shaking hands with the man.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” he asked.

“A beer would be nice, thank you,” she replied with a smile. They told her the owner was a mutant. What was his mutation?

Rogue took her to the table where the rest of the people were seated. Y/N sat next to Storm, right opposite Logan. Rogue sat by the man’s side.

It felt like a friendly gathering. The atmosphere was inviting. It’s been years since Y/N felt safe in a group. They were all like her, unique and not criminals. When Y/N’s eyes travelled around the table, her soul got warmer and relaxed. A gentle smile appeared on her face. She listened to Bobby talk about his day. The teens got on his nerves today.

“In case you haven’t heard,” Storm interrupted him. “Y/N will become the newest English and Literature teacher.”

“No kidding!” Rogue shouted excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

All eyes were on her now. “I asked the Professor today,” she explained. “I don’t know. I simply didn’t. I kind of forgot, I guess.”

“Another smartass,” Logan commented.

“Aren’t you one, too?” Y/N glared at him, her lips turning into a grin. “Listen, I asked if he’d need an English teacher, and Charles said yes. I’m glad that I would be able to repay him at least a little.”

The bartender brought them a tray of beers. They all grabbed one. Y/N put the drink to her lips and took a sip. Then another one. Before she knew it, she drank the whole glass in one go. She burped a little and smiled. “Damn, that was a good beer.” When her eyes lifted from the empty glass, everyone stared at her. Some had their mouths open, and others were impressed. “What? It’s been years.”

“You’ll be out before you know it,” Bobby warned her. “Be careful.”

“So,” Rogue clapped her hands. It got everyone’s attention. “Since we are all here, let’s get more information about Y/N.”

“Oh, no,” Y/N hid her face in her hands.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Storm nudged her shoulder. “We want to know everything about you. Let’s start with the basics. Tell us something interesting about yourself. For example, I like gardening.”

Y/N peeked at Storm, raising a brow. “That’s quite shocking. I could never picture you in a garden, on your knees and covered in dirt.”

“The more you know. Now, it’s your turn.”

“Ah,” Y/N sighed and thought about her life. “I used to attend guitar lessons,” she said after a while. “My parents made me take guitar lessons. That was years ago. I don’t think I remember anything.”

“At least someone who’s not tone-deaf,” Peter commented. “I can’t listen to some of you singing off-key.”

“I’m saying I played the guitar, not that I can sing,” Y/N corrected him.

“It’s still the same,” Peter shrugged.

“Anything else?” Storm asked.

Y/N’s eyes moved around the place. She found darts and a pool table farther away. “Nothing is interesting about me,” she said. “I’m going to get another beer. Anyone want anything else?” she asked them.

Y/N’s eyes fell on Logan’s empty glass, and she raised a brow. Their eyes locked. It was a silent plea to save her from the interrogation. “I’ll go with you,” he said.

They walked from the table and straight to the bar. Logan ordered them more beer. He leaned against the wooden counter, elbows resting on it. “Everyone is curious about you,” he commented.

“I hate that,” she sighed. “It’s like going to a confession. They all get information, and I get nothing out of it. It makes me nervous. I feel like the least interesting person here.” She turned her body to him. “Back in the day, when I started high school, this was a nightmare. People wanted to know everything to convince themselves that their lives were more interesting than others.”

Logan’s eyes travelled around her body until they landed back on her face. “True,” he shrugged. “But here, people are genuinely curious and want to know you. You are part of the team, you know?”

“It feels forced,” said Y/N.

The bartender handed them beers, and he winked at Y/N. She chuckled at that. He wasn’t too discreet about the flirting. Then again, she didn’t mind.

Her eyes landed on the pool table again. “Listen. Do you want to play?” she pointed with her head.

Logan turned to look at it and then back at her, smirking. “Not only do you want me to kick your ass during training. You also want to lose playing pool?”

“Is that a threat I hear in your voice? I will beat you,” she threatened with a finger.

“Only one way to find out, princess,” he grabbed his beer. “We’ll have a game, Stan,” Logan said to the bartender.

Storm and Kitty watched them walk around the pool table and play. They both had grins on their faces, squabbling here and there. “They are so blind,” Kitty whispered to Storm.

“Let them have this dance,” Storm whispered back. “Five bucks, they’ll end up together by the end of the month.”

“I’m giving them a week,” Bobby joined on the bet.

Y/N held the billiard cue tightly in her hand. Logan was the one who started the game. They flipped a coin, and he won. Logan got himself solids while Y/N remained with the stripes. When he screwed up his move, it was time for her to play. The last time she played pool was years ago. It was a game she wasn’t able to master. All she could do was to try and have a good time.

She sank one of her balls and moved to another one. She leaned over the table, placed the cue on the table and focused. There weren’t any good shots for her. Therefore, she had to play something and try.

Logan stood next to her and laughed. “Your stance is wrong,” he said. He reached for her hand and brought it higher on the cue.

His body was oh so close to her, and Y/N forgot how to breathe. She could smell the cigars, a heavy man’s cologne and something musky. When he pulled away, his hand brushed against her lower back. It made her hit a ball that sank one of his solid balls. “Shit,” she cursed.

Logan’s howling laughter echoed around the bar. “You really want me to win, princess.”

“You are distracting me,” she frowned at him when she straightened her stance. She reached for her beer and drank from it.

Her eyes were stalking him, watching his every move. When did he light up a cigar? He held it between his lips while he played his turn. Y/N huffed. She took off her leather jacket and threw it on the nearest chair. Then, she fixed her blouse and popped open the highest button to show some cleavage. If he could distract, so could she.

He sank two other balls when the third try was unsuccessful. “Fuck,” he growled.

Y/N snickered. She walked to the table and scanned her stripes. This round sucked. There was nothing good to play. She sat at the edge and held the cue behind her back.

“You won’t be able to make it,” Logan stared at the scene. “It’s a difficult move, kid.”

Y/N exhaled and hit the red stripe ball perfectly. “Ha!” she shouted happily when the ball sank. “Did you see that?”

Logan smiled at her and rolled his eyes. “Go on, it’s still your turn,” he goaded her. “Show me what else you can do.” He took a drag of the cigar.

Y/N felt confident. Even though she was three balls behind, she started to believe she could win. She gave him a smug face as she walked around the table, trying to find another good shot. It was all fun and games. When she brushed past him, Logan wanted to grab her by the neck and bring her lips to his. He only took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts away.

Y/N leaned over the table and hovered the cue on the table. There was one ball that had the potential of being taken down. She took a deep breath. Again, Y/N felt Logan’s eyes on her body. She started burning up. With this knowledge, she hit the white ball, and with some dumb luck, she managed to sink the black eight ball.

“No!” she shouted, horrified.

Logan’s roaring laughter brought everyone’s attention. “Holy shit,” he placed a hand on his belly. “You did not!”

Y/N leaned against a wall and hid her head in her arms. “What the fuck was that?!” she shouted, pissed.

Laughter came from the table where the rest of the people sat. They saw what happened. “Oh, Y/N, no,” Kitty gasped, laughing.

“I’m never playing this dumb game again,” Y/N made a dramatic announcement. “Oh my god,” she pushed from the wall and turned around. She noticed all eyes on her. “Listen,” she blushed. “I am talented. I am the best there is. I should stick to drinking,” she said ironically.

“Hey, hey,” Logan walked to her and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “If you’d like, I can also kick your ass while playing darts,” he teased.

She glared at him. “Very funny,” she shook off his hand and went to get her beer. “I will kick your ass when we have the next training session,” she threatened. Once she got to her beer, she went back to him. “I will find a way to burn all your clothes.”

Logan tilted his head and grinned. “If you want to see me without clothes, all you need to do is ask.”

“Is that a challenge?” she looked into his eyes and wiggled her eyebrows. “Think twice, or you might regret it.” And then, she drank the rest of her second beer in one go. “Refill?”

He snorted. “You’ll get drunk, princess.”

“Well, you only live once, right?” she shrugged and walked to the bar to order another beer.

The rest of the night went smoothly. Everyone talked and laughed. Y/N wasn’t interrogated as she was at the very beginning. Bobby told her about the students and what to expect from them. Kitty added some of her funniest memories and challenges as a teacher. Storm included what to do when the school is under attack.

“It happens,” she said. “Not often, but at least once a year.”

Before they knew it, Y/N was on her fifth beer and feeling it. Her face was burning, the world spinning, and she could feel it in her veins. Her voice got louder, and words went flying out of her mouth.

“I love my life,” Y/N said out of nowhere. Some giggles spread around. “Everything’s good, you know? I have a place to sleep, food to eat, and amazing friends,” she said with a wide smile. “I fucking hope we are friends.”

“Of course we are,” Bobby nodded.

“No more beer for you, young lady,” said Peter. “By the way, how is it possible to get drunk from beer?”

She took a big, dramatic breath. “Let me tell you a short story, my friend. When you are locked up for years, barely able to eat and an involuntary abstainer, you can get drunk easily.”

More laughter followed. “Take it easy, girl,” Storm patted her shoulder.

Y/N stood up from their table. “I’m going outside to take a breather and clear my head.” She tripped over her feet but managed to stand tall. “It’s the floors,” she blamed it.

The midnight air was cold. Y/N walked outside without her leather jacket. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. Getting drunk was not the plan. On the other hand, the beer tasted good. It eased her nerves. Walking around Logan got easier the more she drank. That fucker was such a tease.

Y/N let her hair loose and put the elastic band between her fingers. She let her hair fall over her shoulders and face.

How would his lips feel against mine? Where did that question come from? Her mind was racing miles. All she could see was Logan’s face and those lips she wanted to taste. She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts.

“You okay, kid?”

She sighed. Of course, Logan would be the first one to check up on her. It was nice. But it brought back all those impure thoughts.

“I’d like another beer,” she said to him.

“Go get some. But I’m warning ya, I’m not the one carrying ya back to the school.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Y/N winked at him. When she took a step, she almost tripped again. Sighing, she said, “Seriously, what is with the floor?”

“Y/N, you are drunk,” said Logan. “The floor is fine. Also, you are outside, so there is ground under your feet. I think it’s time to go back to school.”

“You are right,” she nodded and yawned. “I’m going to get my jacket. I’ll head back to school. You guys have fun.” Y/N wanted to walk inside to get her belongings. However, Logan stopped her. Y/N was about to protest, but she noticed he already had her jacket. “How did you get that? You are not the one who can run fast. That’s Peter.”

Logan was a bit annoyed when she mentioned his name. He put the jacket around her shoulders. “Come on, princess. Let’s get ya home.”

“You are coming with me?” she looked up at him, confused. “Why?”

“You think I’m letting you walk there alone in this state? Come on, Y/N, I’m not leaving you when you are drunk and barely able to walk on your own.”

A bright smile appeared on her face. “Aw, you are my knight in shining armour,” she sang.

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett #Logan Howlett x female reader #Wolverine #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #x-men #x-men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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zepskies · 10 months ago

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What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean? ✍️

Apparently it's Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day! To all my fellow writers, I truly appreciate you for bringing me joy, making me smile on rough days, and giving me my weekly/daily dose of escapism and warm fuzzies. (Shoutouts to you personally below.) 💓💓

But what does it mean "practically" to appreciate your favorite writers, especially on Tumblr?

For example, I know some fanfic authors are starting to block "serial likers": people who'll go through someone's entire masterlist and hit the "like" button on 20-something stories without commenting or basic reblogging.

While I think blocking them is extreme, I understand the authors' frustrations. I've actually been asked if I'll ever leave Tumblr, since many of them have dropped off over the past few months, or even the past few years.

I'm still here for two very important reasons:

I love to write about my favorite characters. I write primarily because I love it, not just for the kudos.

I'm friggin' blessed to have a lot of friends and lovely readers on here and Ao3 who support me immensely on my writing and on this blog in general. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Which is why I do my best to reply to your comments and reblogs. 💖💖

Of course, there are many reasons why a writer might take a break or stop writing entirely, but one of those reasons is also why the #supportwriters tag exists...

And why you'll see us include banners like this on our posts:

(Credits: cafekitsune, me, inklore)

That being said, here's my own rule of thumb on how I try to support my fellow writers when I read something I enjoy:

If I "liked" something, it means I had the time to read a story all the way through and I enjoyed it! (Or I'm bookmarking it for later in the day lol)

If I have the time to read it, I have the time to leave a comment on what I liked the most about it.

If I have the time to write out a comment (anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes), I typically put that comment in a reblog -- maybe even add a gif or two for ✨razzle dazzle.✨ That way I can share it with the rest of my followers, so they can see it and hopefully enjoy it too...

Why? Because Tumblr isn't TikTok or IG. Reblogging is the best way to help a post gain traction on Tumblr. The algorithm doesn't care much about likes.

But on a more human level, supporting writers is just the basic thing of -- if you enjoyed something you read (that a writer shared for free), just let them know what you liked about it.

Remember that there's a person behind the content you enjoy. They might have been working on that story for weeks or months, or even years before they got the courage to post it.

They might really be putting themselves out there, writing about a topic or subject matter that they're not sure people will even like or engage with.

Maybe they're exploring something new, like a character or trope they've never written before.

Maybe they're expressing part of themselves that they haven't even told another living soul.

Maybe they just wanted to write something fun and smutty or angsty or fluffy and want to share the escapism with you.

Whether they've been writing for years or are just starting out, any and all is valid.

For me, as a writer and a reader, supporting my fellow writers often means supporting my friends. And 9 times out of 10, the way we became friends was by leaving feedback on their work and asking them questions, or responding to their awesome feedback on mine.

If you want a little jumpstart on how to leave feedback, whether encouraging or constructive, here's an awesome post about it (not mine).

Shoutout to some of my favorite writers 💞:

(In no particular order)

@waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @thatonewriter15 @rizlowwritessortof

@waywardxwords @tofics @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings

@jawritter @deanwinchesterswitch @justagirlinafandomworld @ravengirl94 @waywardxwords

@spnbabe67 @deanwanddamons @ejlovespie @kittenofdoomage @venus-haze

@talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @jacklesbrainworms @artyandink @princessmisery666 (I just starting reading your stories, but I'm continuing with Samnesia soon!) -- and I'm sure many more! 💋

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bonesxbows · 5 months ago

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Once Upon A Dream - Chapter 1 (Lucifer X Reader)

My Masterlist

In a sleeping beauty-inspired AU, a curse is placed over you when you strike up a deal with Heaven to protect baby Charlie, causing you to lose your memory. You remember nothing once the curse takes over; not your marriage with Lucifer, not the family you had with the two of them, nothing. So when a strange smiling demon offers you a place to stay when you can't remember where 'home' is, you take him up on his offer.

(WARNINGS)

Gendered terms used (mom, good girl, wife) but otherwise gender neutral pronouns used

Heavy depressing themes

Loss of a parent (temporary)

(CHAPTER WARNINGS)

None

Major thanks to @voxslays for letting me borrow their idea, this is the most fun I've had writing a multi-chaptered story in a while. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Comments and likes are much appreciated!

Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17

Banners by @strangergraphics

“I don’t like this.”

It had only been the thirteenth time you had heard him utter that phrase since you had left home and you hadn’t even reached the main steps of the Angel Headquarters clocktower yet.

“I know, Luci, I don’t either. But we don’t have a choice.”

“What could they want? I mean I haven’t- Do you think- They usually want nothing to do with Hell so I just don’t-“ he had begun to click his cane on the ground as he walked, abruptly interrupting his own thoughts before he could form them into sentences. You grabbed him by the shoulders gently, stopping him in his tracks. He was overwhelmed with worry; the crease lines surrounding his furrowed frown and strained brow spoke for him.

“You’re rambling again.” You spoke softly, without a hint of malice or annoyance to be found.

He huffed out a sigh in reply. “I just…I know them. Too well, actually. Nothing good comes from them wanting to meet.”

“Whatever they throw at us we can face it, together. There’s nothing we can’t handle.” You threw on a comforting smile, amping up the airs of false positivity you were creating.

“You’re right…Although…you know we could just not go…?” He smirked and flashed his sharp toothed smile, he knew his attempt to persuade you was futile but you admired his reliance to try anyway.

“And bring the wrath of them down here to hunt us down and force us to meet with them anyway? At least this way we’ll have some ground to stand on should they start making wild demands.”

That was one on the long list of reasons of why he loved you; you were always the logical side to his impulsivity, guiding and directing his ideas like a shepherd. Though he felt less like a lamb and more like a cow being led to the slaughter, currently.

“You really think they’ll listen to us?” His words spoke of hope but there was a layer of undeniable implausibility.

A sad smile spread across your face as you tangled your fingers in between his. “No, I don’t.”

And with that the two of you turned to face the towering white and gold structure, reluctantly taking a step towards your impending fate.

The room the two of you were led into was set up like a courtroom, but one that placed emphasis on making the defendant feel as small as physically possible. Whom you could only assume were angels were seated in boxes raised along the walls, the higher up they sat the more foreboding they seemed staring down at you.

You felt doomed already and you had just walked in the door. You were nothing compared to these people. A stained soul compared to their combined holiness. A mere speck compared to their immense power. A meager sinner standing before those who took part in deciding your fate with a snap of their fingers. In the midst of your fear, you snuck a glance towards Lucifer and found him to be surprisingly confident. Gone was the worry that had plagued his face moments before stepping foot inside and now he held an air of unbreakable smugness. He was undoubtedly the smallest man in the room but the way he held himself would have fooled anyone. The cockiness oozed from his posture like toxic sludge.

The two of you were led to a seating box of your own on the main floor, where you both took your seats, a thousand pairs of angel eyes staring down at you. You couldn’t help but squirm under their gazes, you could feel sweat start to heat up the back of your neck and you couldn’t decide what to do with your hands. You eventually settled on sticking them under your thighs so as to not make a fool of yourself. Lucifer on the other hand was the very definition of composed; his spine ramrod straight, his hands clasped together on top of the table, and his face set sternly in a stone-like scowl.

“Lucifer.” You heard a voice. Deep, but ring-y, like a church bell in a steeple. The commanding tone immediately made your head snap towards the sound, though it hadn’t been your name being called. A low growl could be heard next to you, so low that you knew no one else could’ve heard it but you. You flicked your eyes back to Lucifer, not moving your head from its forward positioning.

His eyes narrowed into a glare, a fire burning behind them that pleaded to be released. “Micheal.” He spat out, venom practically flying from his lips.

Someone cleared their throat from high up above and everyone turned their attention towards the noise, everyone except the two brothers who continued to glare at each other. You couldn’t quite make her out, she was seated so far away, but you could see long grey ringlet curls of hair that cascaded down onto her white angelic gown, her entire form being framed by six massive wings and a massive glowing halo sitting atop her head. She was magnificent. And the vilifying holy energy irritating from her made you want to wretch.

“We have gathered here today to assess the crimes committed by a former one of our own, and what actions must be taken in such unconventional circumstances.” The room filled with a high-pitched ringing as she spoke. You didn’t have time to process what she was implying before Lucifer snapped.

“Crimes?! You banished me into a realm full of nothing but crime and now suddenly my behavior is a problem?! Since when do you care what I do with my time after you cast me out?!” He was on the verge of yelling and you watched as the tips of his horns tried to pierce his skin near the crown of his head, but never fully making it through. He was resisting his changes, refusing to show them any signs of his demonic-ness. He would not show them the monster they claimed him to be.

“Since your behaviors have created an heir to your throne, Lucifer. This is not even to mention your involvement with a sinner, whom you also deemed to bring with you today, as if bringing a soul like that in front of an angel audience was also a sensible notion on your part.” Her voice remained calm, but his name fell from her mouth like fire. You shrank in your seat as much as the cushioned wood would allow when she started to mention you.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Sera. And you leave my little girl out of this, she’s no threat to you.” He was out of his seat now, the chair screeching backwards against the tiles as he sprang up.

“Everything you do is our business, you child. You wreck the perfect order of Heaven by coercing Adam’s chosen to follow you instead and then you dare parade around in our presence with a lowly mortal like them.”

“Lilith left on her own! I have no control over her actions! Would you rather I forced her to stay with me?!” Lucifer slammed his hands onto the table, his eyes narrowing into a glare up at the judging angel.

“We would have rather you not sired a vile descendant with the chosen and then very likely drove her away, only to be replaced by a lesser.” You watched as she returned his glare with just as much fierceness. You had to tear your eyes away, the holy energy radiating from her stare turned your stomach sour.

Lucifer curled his fingers into fists, opening his mouth to say something, but then clamping it shut instead and curling his lips into a snarl that displayed his sharp teeth to their full effect. He had lost his steam, his argument dying on his tongue. He crumpled back into his chair, but not before slamming his fist down onto the table, the bang reverberating throughout the room.

“Your actions are incorrigible, thousands of years and you’ve still yet to change your callow ways. For this, we have come to the conclusion that an angelic curse is a fitting comeuppance. Once your daughter reaches the age of five, the time of which she will likely start to learn the ways of one day taking over Hell, she shall hear the sound of trumpets on high and fall into a deep slumber.” A collective gasp rang out across the jury of other angels that then gave way to a whispered chatter, but the high seraphim’s face was steadfast; not a twinge of regret or remorse to be found, and she left little room for any debate. Her decision was final in this court.

But you would twice be damned if you were going to let that stop you.

You stood up calmly, the screeching of your chair against the tiled floor ceasing the endless murmuring in the room as all eyes turned to you. “If I may, Your Highness, I would like to object to this ruling.” You spoke calmly, coolly, and collected. You would not let them break you. But you could tell she wanted to laugh at you, you could see it in the way her hand shot up to cover her mouth and her eyes began to crease. The rest of the room fell silent, an eerie tension that everyone else felt but you.

“You most certainly may not, but you are a bold soul for believing that you could. I would expect no less from a sinner. Pray tell, I’m curious, what grounds would you have presumed you would have had to stand on?”

You felt something tug at your clothing, coming from the direction of where Lucifer sat next to you. You glanced at him and instantly you could feel your heart squeeze inside your ribs. His eyes were wide with worry, his face frozen with fear. His clawed hand still hung onto your clothes as he whispered to you, “What are you doing…?”

But the only response you could give was a soft smile as you quickly whispered back, “What I have to do,” before you returned your attention back to the seraphim. “I offer myself as a replacement for Lucifer’s daughter. I will take the weight of this curse instead.”

At the mention of his name he sharply inhaled and began to cry out your name, followed by pleas of begging you to stop this nonsense, whispered only loud enough for you to hear, but you ignored all of it, no matter how much it broke your heart to do so. Meanwhile, she snickered in her chair up high, easily looking down her nose at you as a smirk spread across her face. “Your once mortal soul means nothing to us. It holds no worth to Heaven. What would convince you to think it would have any value in regards to making this offered trade appealing?”

You held up your left hand for all in the courtroom to see, a glittering golden band carved into two wings with a red ruby chipped into the shape of an apple set in the center adorned your ring finger. You had to hold back the smirk that wanted to crawl onto your face as you watched the angel’s face shift from amusement to horror within seconds. “Surely Lucifer’s wife, the future queen of Hell, would have more of an impact that you’re hoping for than his daughter, wouldn’t it? Because that’s what this is all about, making him suffer, isn’t it? That’s your end goal. Not the protection of Heaven, not to teach him or the denizens of Hell a lesson, no, you simply want him to suffer. So I offer you a better solution to achieve your original intention, but you spare the child if you agree to do so.” You had spoken your peace, and the entire room fell still. The silence was antagonizing, all of the witnesses in the room, including Lucifer, waited with bated breath to see which of you would snap first. You were certain it would not be you, your composure was concrete, unlike the angel’s, who was currently dazed as she tried, and was failing, to contain a million different emotions that threatened to spill through her features.

“You certainly are an…ambitious little cretin, aren’t you? Very well, your recent spectacle has been mildly entertaining and therefore we will accept your deal. The child will not be affected and instead, the curse will befall on you.” The room uproared with applause once the angel finished her statement, the jury of other witnessing angels apparently pleased with the outcome of your objection. You couldn’t help but smile at your victory. But the executioner was not finished with you. “However,” she spoke again, her voice booming above the clapping and causing the noise to cease. “It shall henceforth take effect immediately. The next time you feel sleep call to you the trumpets will sound and your fate will be sealed. You will close your eyes and you will not rise again.” Malice flashed in her eyes and for the first time since you had stood up to her, you felt fear shoot through your heart again.

“No! That isn’t fair, Sera!” Lucifer shot up and yelled, his eyes now filled with red leaving nothing but his yellow pupils as tears streamed down his face. His horns he could control if he tried, but his eyes he couldn’t, not when he was crying.

“The deal was not made with you, Lucifer, so your opinion of whether this constitutes as fair or not matters very little to me. The verdict of this matter has been reached, this court ruling is now over. You may now all be dismissed. God be with you.”

“Wait! You-“ Lucifer tried to argue, but the gaggle of angels had already disappeared into a puff of shimmering white and golden smoke. A second later the two of you were phased out of the building, now standing on top of the stairway right outside of the main door you had entered not that long ago. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, the weight now placed on your shoulders fully sinking in, threatening to bury you. But a sniffle made you stop your mental spiral. Lucifer was crying, full-on ugly sobbing, and you had caused it. He had covered his face with his hands, tears and no doubt snot as well running down his fingers and the sides of his hands. His tail had also appeared and had wrapped itself around his ankles, a comfort tactic you recognized.

“Lucifer…” you called out his name softly and placed a hand on his shoulder. He immediately pulled his hands away when he felt your presence, his red filled eyes making contact with yours, his pupils close to nothing but a snake like sliver. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, a part of you scared he would snap.

“What are we going to do?!” He sobbed, throwing his arms around you and shaking you gently. Even in times of upset and panic, he was never rough with you.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t think! I…I didn’t know what else to do!” You wanted to scream but you remained calm. You couldn’t tell if he was angry at you particularly or at the situation as a whole. You didn’t want to snap at him if it was the latter.

“I can’t lose you, ducky.” His voice cracked, his words barely above a whisper. The way his eyes shone with a twisted mixture of fear and worry made your heartache.

You placed a hand on his face, cupping his jaw in your palm. He instinctively nuzzled into your warm touch, sending a small, but sad, smile tugging at the corners of your lips. How long did you have left to savor moments like this? “You aren’t going to lose me, Luci. They can’t take me away from you. No matter what happens I’ll still be right here with you.” You slid your fingers down to his chest, stopping where his heart thrummed under his ribs. He huffed, at a loss for words, his eyes glued to your hand still on his heart. He placed his own over yours, giving it a slight squeeze and dragging his clawed thumb over your knuckles gently.

The deal was made. There was no turning back now. You had made your bed, now was time to lie in it.

To be continued in Chapter 2...

#lucifer x reader #my writings #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer

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nei-ning · 2 years ago

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Gonna rant a bit. I saw one set of beautiful anthro arts on another website. Sadly they were done in AI. I did left a comment, complimenting how beautiful these arts were but how sad it made me that they were AI arts.

The artist themselves was kind and polite, telling they use AI because they want to learn and be able to make game arts one day (but they too, apparently, with AI so...)

But then there was another user, AI "artist" too who replied to me that there's absolutely NO ARTIST who can draw anthros with detailed fur, goat like arm, lights, colors etc without editing or photoshopping. On the whole planet, absolutely none! This person clearly don't believe in people's skills when it comes on arts. Heck, I followed one artist on DA who drew ALL her arts traditionally and she drew, and still does, SUPER DETAILED FURRY ANTHROS! No photoshop, editing, nothing digital. Just her hands, paper and a set of color pencils.

Also, if people's art skills wouldn't had been amazing back in the days through mankind, we wouldn't have cave paintings, old amazing paintings or sculptures, ALL DONE BY HANDS IN TRADITIONAL WAY. NO AI, NO PHOTOSHOP OR EDITING.

Humans can learn amazing skills if they only want to. AI artists, maybe not all, just wants to take the easiest way / be lazy (and get lots of likes - like that other person who straight forward said it. That he uses AI to create furry arts to get hundreds of likes).

They also mocked my style / arts, saying they are not good enough to be used in AI arts - yet.

Like what the actual fuck?! I am pissed! I don't even want my arts to be used in AI arts by some lazy idiot (or at all). At least I draw EVERYTHING in my arts, from first sketch line to the last shade / light. Surely my skills are not as good as they could be. After all I'm self-taught, not gone in art school like some have. Not to mention I draw for fun, I draw to bring joy to my watchers, I draw therapy arts to myself, I like to keep my style easy and simple. My arts are a hobby, not professional thing or to fish a lot of likes. If my arts can make someone's day a bit better, then I've done my job! I never haven't taken my arts or skills too seriously, trying to improve them to the top.

Is there times when I wish I would put more effort to my arts, learn and study more, becoming better? Absolutely! But do I bother? Not really. Like I said, this is a hobby. I know I would burnout myself if I would start to force and pressure myself to do better, to learn more, to improve my skills. I mean I struggle to draw even now!

I do have some saved tutorials on Pinterest what I would like to try, yes, but still not in a way like if I would have a fire under my ass.

#Text #rant #AI #AI art #I'm honestly so fucking pissed right now #Been feeling pissed overall the last few days #And now this to fuel that anger #I need to calm down and do something #Because I don't want to bake my birthday cake for tomorrow while feeling like smashing someone's skull with a hammer #Sorry for the rant guys but I honestly need to let out some steam #Not to mention you guys are my friends #Only ones who I can talk to #Delete later

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itsbells · 18 days ago

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how did madison and justin spend their day today 💗💗 also I’m absolutely obsessed with everything that you write 😚💗

aww thank you! I’m happy you enjoy my post 🥹💌 also just a side note, this fic is based off yesterdays events. i hope that’s okay! 🫶🏽

𐙚🧸ྀི ˖ 🍒 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊enjoy 𐙚🧸ྀི ˖ 🍓 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

madison spent her day cheering justin on as she watched him play golf for the AmFam Championship today. the day was bright and warm. filled with smiles and laughter. madison was happy that he agreed to come out and participate in this as it was something she knew he enjoyed other then football. she saw how relaxed he was, although he was very competitive. she saw him more carefree this time, like he was just simply there for fun and the cause of the fundraiser, and she loved every second of it.

madison is usually the first to always join justin whenever he plays a sport other then football, but this time she was close to staying in LA telling justin, “babe, there’s just so much to do here.” to which justin replied, “honey, how many times have you told me that i need to lay back and relax?” madison pouted at him. “a lot.” she replied looking down at her computer. “exactly, now it’s your turn. you’ve been working everyday and this tournament is just for a day, it’ll be fun, plus you get to watch me play, what’s better than that?” he teased causing madison to playfully roll her eyes.

the plane ride was filled with justin making jokes about where the tournament was taking place, which was Madison, Wisconsin. madison was happy justin had convinced her to go. he was right in a sense that she has been working a lot lately and was in desperate need of a break. going to the studio everyday without having any vocal rest was starting to catch up to her.

she felt bad that she also hasn’t been spending too much time with justin either. when he didn’t have OTAs he would insist on going with her to the studio just to be in her company. it was very sweet, after he’d finish running some errands in the morning, he’d come to madison’s studio in the early afternoon with drinks for everyone from madison’s favorite cafe.

“well that was fun.” justin said walking up to madison. he had just finished the tournament and was meeting some fans before he’d found madison under her canopy with one his brothers. “first of all, you lost. second of all, did you just sign a baby?” patrick asked teasing him making madison laugh at his comment. “i signed their shirt.”justin rolled his eyes at him ignorning his first initial comment before he went up to madison and kissed the top of her head. “i’m glad you had fun, babe.” she said rubbing his arm. justin gave her warm smile, “how are you? are you having fun?” he asked. madison nodded, “of course, it’ actually feels nice to be away from home for a little.” she said honestly. “yeah? good. i’m glad you’re having a nice time, maddy.” he said caressing her chin with his thumb.

“justin! come grab a beer!” someone called out for him. “be right back, babe.” he whispered before heading over to the group of people right next to their set up.

madison watched with a smile as justin conversed with the people that called him over. loving how naturally friendly he was with everyone. that was one of the qualities she loved about him, how he was easily a people’s person.

her innocent thoughts were cut short and turned into dirty ones as she saw justin nonchalantly grab a beer from the cooler and pop it open with one hand.. she quickly looked away and smiled to herself, trying to ignore all the the dirty thoughts that came to her mind. “why are you smiling so hard?” she heard justin asked. she looked up at his face then down to the beer can that was being swallowed by his enormous hand. “no reason, just smiling.” she said innocently. she couldn’t have fooled justin though. he knew her too well from him not to notice the faint pink tint on her cheeks and the way she tightly crossed her legs together. “hmm, okay.” he said before taking a seat next to her.

they spend a little more time at the center, eating, talking and meeting more fans before going back to their hotel to pack up before heading back to LA.

“thank you for having me come with you, J.” madison said from her spot at the corner of their hotel bed. justin looked up from his suitcase. “i’m glad you came, baby.” he said zipping up his suitcase before he made his way over to her. “you know i always love having you with me.” he said cupping her cheeks in his hands. “me too.” she smiled. justin smiled back at her before bringing his lips down to hers, giving her a sweet kiss before whispering, “now are you going to tell me why you were smiling so hard earlier?” madison chuckled. “no.” she said. justin pulled away arching an eyebrow at her. “no?” madison shook her head no. “alright, we’ll see if you change your mind when we get back home.” he said nodding his head as he headed back to his suitcase, lifting it up to its wheels. “oh?” she said. “oh indeed, baby.”

madison sighed with a big smile as she laid down on the bed. “you just.. looked so good today.” she admitted. justin looked over at her. admiring her as she was sprawled across the bed. “yeah? tell me more.” he said taking a seat next to her. madison looked over at justin, finding him with the smile she knows all too well.

“don’t think we have enough time.” she whispered, shivering as she felt justin’s hand grip her waist. he leaned down to her face, “trust me we do.” he said taking her lips in his again. “now tell me more.”

𐙚🧸ྀི ˖ 🍒 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊the end 𐙚🧸ྀི ˖ 🍓 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

#madison beer #justin herbert #justin herbert fanfic #justin herbert imagines #madison beer fanfic #madison beer imagines #justin herbert fanfiction #madison beer fanfiction #justin herbert imagine #madison beer imagine #justinherbert x madisonbeer

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aka-aster · 3 months ago

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What if Buddie's first date went a bit awkward because they're already very comfortable with each other

Inspired by this TikTok: I don't want buddie first date to be awkward. Written with the Buddie ship in mind, but also might not be accurate since I wrote this for fun.

They want to pick each other up from the other person's house, but they live together. So instead of meeting at the front door, they meet at the master's bedroom door. They also ask the other person if they're dressed well enough for the date, because they can always go back and change. The other person is too mesmerised to give a quick enough answer, making them both nervous.

They dressed up very nicely, but then one of them realises something like "is that my shirt?", "did (name) tell you to wear that? It's just me", or "did you buy new clothes for this?"

They almost miss the turn to the restaurant because they're so comfortable talking with each other that they forget where they need to go.

They have a long conversation about all the meal choices before they end up with a final choice because they give each other recommendations based on what they like the other person to try and what they know the other person likes. When the waiter asks if they need any recommendations, the waiter is lectured about meals. It takes them some time to make a choice, a decision made after they decide to definitely get back. Maybe get back to this dinner for their one-year relationship anniversary, because of course that crossed their mind.

They are able to compliment the other person smoothly while talking about anything. Because they're so in love and know the other person so well. "This meal is actually very sweet, but also very hot because…" gets interrupted with "just like you".

They're holding hands during dinner when one of them needs to go the bathroom and tells the other that. When he other person doesn't let go of their hand, he asks if the other person wants to come with. The other person blushes and then let's go of their hand, not quite ready to make people suspicious of what they're doing in a bathroom together.

They eventually talk about annoying people who asked them out and past dates they didn't like, totally making fun of their past selves for not realizing sooner they liked the other and how "platonic" their friendship was.

They realize this is their first date and that it's actually going well. Enjoying the friends to lovers comfortableness and all the "might as well have been dates" events. Sharing all the "they thought we were married" comments they've gotten (and how long people usually date before getting married, because at what "stage" are they even in now).

They try to make a romantic move on the other person, but doesn't work because the other person taught them/told them about it and do it before they can do it. With or without realizing, things have become so natural.

They're so long at the restaurant, that the restaurant gets emptier and emptier and it's starting to get close to closing time. Not many staff members are still there. Some staff members are really invested in their date though.

They argue a bit over who gets the pay for the dinner, while the person handling the payment totally thinks they are already married and have a shared bank account so it wouldn't even matter.

They have people to text that they're safe (imagine if people didn't know who they were going on a date with). They exchange phones and let the other person text the people that the date is going well and that they're safe. They see past messages about the other freaking out about the date, ask the other person about that because seriously they were both very excited and nervous for this date, and messages from their friends asking how the date is going and everything and they reply for each other.

At some point, the perfect moment to go for a kiss, they hug. It's a great hug, but also when is a good time to hug and not kiss now that they're together?

When they get back home, back to the same house, they eventually get ready for the next day and talk about ideas for the next date together.

They want to be a good boyfriend and not sleep together in the same bed after their first date, but they also insist on the other person to get the comfy master bed and end up sleeping together in the big bed after all. Not the first time they've slept together in a bed, but it's still a bit different now that they're together.

They think about having to go to work and having all their friends ask how the date went and how uncomfortable it might be and how many jokes are gonna be made and they eventually joke about the idea of running away together, but also end up seriously talking about their future in the LA with the 118.

#911 abc #911 show #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buckey x eddie diaz #friends to lovers #this ended up pretty long lmao #tag me if you use this #astersrant

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mandalhoerian · 4 months ago

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Hey. So, I want to preface this by saying I know I’m just a random user on this platform. I don’t think of myself as someone particularly important, and I’m not trying to be a big deal. I’m just here to write, share what I love, and enjoy fandom like everyone else.

And honestly? I’ve had such a great experience. I’ve got wonderful mutuals that interact with me even though I'm awkward, people who support my work in ways that genuinely mean the world to me, and fandom space(s) that’s been so welcoming. I don’t take that for granted. I really don’t. It's why I'm able to write so much, I want to give back.

Which is exactly why I hesitated to make this post. I don’t want to seem ungrateful, or like I’m complaining for no reason. But I also think this is something worth talking about, because — despite all the wonderful interactions I’ve had — sometimes, there are moments that leave me feeling bad. Not because of outright hate, not because of drama, but because of things like this.

I got an ask recently that seems polite enough. But it left me feeling kind of awful. I don't want to put this user on blast so this isn't a direct answer to their ask and their handle is blurred.

I get why it might seem harmless that even I questioned why it made me feel bad. They’re nice. They say they like my writing. They even acknowledge that I can ignore them if I want. So why am I feeling weird?

They tell me my writing is their favorite among all the stuff they’ve read. And at first, that might seem flattering, right? Nevermind the content-ification of "good stuff" and them deserving equal amount of praise if not more. But here’s the thing — if they actually loved my writing that much, wouldn’t they have supported it in some way?

I checked. They’ve never commented, or reblogged anything I’ve written. Sure, they left a like on fiab. But there’s zero trace of them engaging with my work before this ask. No interaction, no nothing, not even a quick “hey, this was great” in the replies if they couldn't be bothered by reblogging.

So when they say my writing is their favorite, it doesn’t actually feel like praise. It feels like bait. Like they’re just buttering me up so I’ll be more likely to say yes to their request.

They phrase this whole thing in a way that makes it feel like I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi and I'm their only hope.

“I can’t very well ask anyone I know to be my proofreader.”

Why not? Why me specifically? Why someone they’ve never spoken to before instead of a beta reader, a writing group, or literally anyone else?

This is the kind of wording that makes it really hard to say no without feeling like you’re being mean. Like, if I refuse, am I leaving them stranded? Am I crushing their last hope for feedback? The way it’s framed puts all the emotional weight onto me, a total stranger, instead of acknowledging that asking someone to do work for you is already a big request.

And then there’s the way they say:

“You don’t have to read them all—just some (read also: ANY) feedback to let me know if it’s even worth reading would be super awesome.”

This one really got under my skin.

First, the self-deprecation. The whole “if it’s even worth reading” thing. I get it. We all have insecurities about our writing. I just discovered I used the word "shift" like 32 times in my recent work, and "something" even more and I'm twiddling my thumbs about how uncreative I was. English isn't even my first language and I feel lacking every single day.

But the way they phrase it turns it into another pressure point for me. Like, suddenly, I’m not just reading for fun — I’m being tested. I’m the one who has to decide if their writing has value. That’s a LOT to put on someone, especially a stranger.

And second, that little “read also: ANY” bit. It’s a cutesy way of saying “I’m desperate, please read anything,” but it also comes across as pushy. It makes it sound like any amount of effort I give will be acceptable, but what they’re actually doing is making sure I don’t just say no outright. It’s a way of leaving the door open so that even if I don’t want to read all of it, I might still feel pressured into at least glancing at it.

It’s a really subtle way of making it hard to say no while making it seem like they’re being easygoing about it. And I don’t like that.

At the end of the day, the biggest reason this made me feel awful is that it made me feel used.

This person didn’t interact with my work. Didn’t support me in any way. Didn’t talk to me. I don't know them. They didn’t exist in my space until they wanted something from me. Like my writing was good enough to get something from me but not good enough to actually support. And it just sucked the joy out of my day. It leads me to believe they haven't even read the thing and just look at the notes and go, "this user right here".

And listen. I am not against helping people with their writing. I love talking about writing. I love giving feedback. I read a lot, I do my best to reblog and gush about what I like, but it's a bit time consuming since I want to do it long and be thorough. But there’s a huge difference between building a relationship with someone — engaging with their work, supporting each other — and just cold messaging a stranger with a request that only benefits you.

It’s uncomfortable. It puts me in an awkward position where saying no feels rude, even though I never invited this interaction in the first place.

I’m not posting this to be mean. I’m not even mad. I’m just upset.

Because this happens a lot. Writers get messages like this all the time, and it’s exhausting. It makes us feel like we only exist as a resource, not as people. Like our time and energy don’t matter as much as someone else’s desire for validation. And that’s a really shitty feeling.

So if you’re someone who loves a writer’s work and you genuinely want to connect with them? Start by engaging. Reblog their work. Leave a comment. Be a presence in their space. Show them that you care about their writing before asking them to care about yours if that's your goal in the long run.

Because trust me — when you support a writer, when you show up and really engage, you don’t even have to ask for connections or advice or feedback. It happens naturally. Because at that point, it’s not just asking for something. It’s a conversation. A relationship. A real, meaningful exchange.

But if you skip all of that and just go straight to “Hey, I don’t know you, but do this for me” you’re not just making it awkward. You’re making someone feel unseen. And I promise, no writer wants to feel like that.

And to the person who sent this ask, I’m not angry at you. I don’t think you meant harm. But I do need you to understand that this didn’t come across the way you probably intended. I don’t know you. You’ve never interacted with me before this.

On top of all this, proofreading and beta-reading, no matter how hand-wavy, take time. Thought. Effort. And they’re not things you just ask a stranger to do out of nowhere. Writers — especially fic writers who do this for free — are not here to be an on-demand editing service. Beta-reading is not a casual favor. It’s a commitment. It’s work. And when you ask someone you’ve never even interacted with before to do it, without offering anything in return — not even the time you're asking for them to invest in you — it doesn’t feel like a friendly request. It feels like being used.

And that’s what made your message hard to stomach. You didn’t support my work at all — but you still felt comfortable asking me to invest my time and energy into your writing. That’s what makes it feel transactional. That’s what makes it discouraging.

If you’re looking for a beta-reader, there are better ways to go about it. There are writing communities, Discord servers, and fandom spaces specifically for finding people who are open to that kind of exchange. But cold-messaging a stranger — especially without having ever interacted with them — isn’t the way to do it.

Use “Read More” for Long Posts

That said, I really do hope you have a good experience on this site and find your footing as a writer. Since you mentioned being new to Tumblr fics, I want to give you some quick advice to make things easier for both you and your readers. Not the feedback you were looking for or wanted, but one I want to give you anyway. Tumblr has its own rhythm when it comes to fanfiction, and while it’s different from AO3, once you get used to it, it’s a great place to share your work.

Tagging: Always tag the fandom (e.g. #[fandom name] fanfic, [character name] x reader) and the main characters/ships so people searching can find it.

If your fic is over 500 words, Tumblr etiquette is to add a Read More break after a couple paragraphs for "preview". This helps people scroll their dashboards without being overwhelmed by a huge block of text and makes your post look cleaner.

Tagging & Content Warnings Matter

Make sure to tag properly, and/or put the warnings in your author's note before the fic itself. Some people track specific tags, and good tagging helps your fic reach the right audience. A few key things to keep in mind:

Warnings: If your fic has sensitive topics (violence, major character death, explicit content, etc.), use tw [topic] or cw [topic] (e.g., #tw blood or #cw angst). If you don't want to tag, put it in your author's note/warning list. Some readers rely on these.

Break up long paragraphs. Huge text blocks are hard on the eyes, especially on mobile.

Avoid Over-Tagging: Tumblr hides posts from search results if they have too many tags. Keep it to 10-15 relevant ones.

Make Your Fic Posts Easy to Read

Unlike AO3, Tumblr doesn't have a built-in formatting system for fics, so readability matters. Some quick tips:

Use bold or italics for emphasis, but don’t overdo it. If you want to make the text look pretty, you can use small text.

If your fic has multiple parts, consider making a masterlist post and linking previous chapters in new updates.

Having graphics really works to get people's attention. You might want to use banners and dividers, there are accounts out there that are dedicated to making/providing resources for these.

Likes are nice, but reblogs are what actually share your fic with others. If you enjoy someone’s work, reblogging it with tags or even a short comment is the best way to support them.

Engagement is Key — Fandom Thrives on Interaction

One of the biggest differences things about Tumblr is that reblogs are the lifeblood of fic visibility. And on Tumblr & AO3, there is no algorithm you can rely on.

If you want engagement on your own fics, start by engaging with others — reblog stories you like, leave nice comments in the tags, and interact with writers. Fandom is built on mutual enthusiasm.

#shai.txt

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