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rauspberries · 3 months ago

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lawyer!aaron hotchner x paralegal!reader. summary: your boss shoots down your big idea to try and win a big case, only to use it later without telling you. noting your irritation, he sets the record straight. tags/warnings: afab reader, no use of y/n and no physical description of reader, prosecutor!hotchner, author didn't go to law school, reader is in law school, this is mostly just very hidden flirting and tension word count: 4.1k notes: this was recommended by an anon! i unfortunately accidentally deleted the ask but thank you so much whoever suggested this <3 this is mostly just tension but maybe one day i'll write more of this pairing [leave me requests huehuehue]

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the wall, cascading your shadow against the wall full of plaques on the wall. When you had first started working at the district attorney’s office as a paralegal, you had been amazed by the look of the place. High ceilings, tile flooring, the cleanliness of the place. It screamed excellence and richness, like you had finally made it – even if you weren’t exactly high on the food chain.

As a paralegal, you were essentially a mini-lawyer. Your job was to collect evidence to assist the prosecutor, conduct interviews for them and help prepare for court, meaning you were extremely important in the way legal cases were handled. Your caseload was just as high as the one of prosecutors, your overtime hours just as extreme, but you enjoyed the fast-paced environment and the lovely collection of recommendation letters you’d get once you finished going through law school.

While you sometimes tended to stray to help other procescutors, you tended to be on the cases that Aaron Hotchner handled, to the point where you had memorized everything about him. How he liked his cases ordered on his desk, what order he preferred to gather extra evidence in, how he conducted his witness interviews, all the way down to his coffee order. In order to help him efficiently, you believed that you needed to know absolutely everything in order to excel.

You had been called a perfectionist for the majority of your life. To be a lawyer, that’s what you had to be. You couldn’t slack off just because you weren’t there yet.

You push through the doorway of Aaron’s office just as he sets down his briefcase on the desk, giving him a soft smile as you place a coffee cup on his desk. “Detectives found more evidence in the sexual assault case in Columbia Heights, meaning we’ll most likely have another court case on our hands during the week. I pulled more cases to set precedent for the Argal case and the summary for that is right here,” you grab the manilla folder from beneath his briefcase, holding it back to him, “and the lab results on the knife finally came in for the Neller case, we got him dead to rights.”

The corner of Aaron’s lip pulls up in a slight smirk as he pulls open the file you handed him, glancing at it for a moment before back up at you. “Whatever happened to ‘good morning, Counselor?’ And breathe, please.” He chuckles, setting the file down before sitting in the chair behind his desk.

Taking a deep breath at the reminder, you cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head. “Is it a good morning if you haven’t slept? Kidding,” you add quickly when he pins you with a stern look, afraid of being sent home due to exhaustion.

“The Temple murder case is tomorrow, by the way.” The words come out of your mouth slowly, cautiously. The high-profile murder case had been a storm cloud over the office since it had come through, making it the main thing that had plagued your mind – and your workload.

You knew the case like the back of your hand. A spree killer, William Temple, a married business man loved by many. Four different bodies, blunt force trauma to the head and stab wounds to the chest, evidence of sexual assault on low-risk victims. It had gotten media attention before the cops had even known what to do with it, making it a case that had to end in a guilty verdict. It was either that or letting him walk free with a God complex, believing that he could do absolutely anything with no consequences at all.

Unfortunately, there were always issues with high-profile cases. It put them under a microscope, all left under the court of public opinion before getting in front of the jury. His defense attorney would most likely use his charm to their advantage, playing him as a loving family man who couldn’t hurt a fly. Crowds would gather on the steps of the courthouse, either chanting for him to be released or for him to be locked away for good.

There had already been issues with the case. The defense attorney had buried you and Aaron in unnecessary motions, brought you in front of the judge about every single piece of evidence you had attempted to submit for fabricated reasons, along with asking for extraneous files that’d never be needed for the entirety of the case. After that stalling, in which they took the chance to put his good name all over the Internet, jury selection had taken over a week, too worried about his media coverage poisoning the possible jurors.

Finally, after what seemed like years of making an air-tight case, it was time for the case to proceed. Despite the judge granting Aaron’s motion of keeping the media out of the courtroom, a few things would definitely fall through the cracks, meaning everything you’ve pulled together evidence-wise had to be airtight.

“Are you asking me if I’m ready?” The prosecutor hums as he scribbles something in a file, glancing up through his eyelashes for just a brief moment before back down at his work.

“Are you?” You respond calmly, brow arching. It wasn’t like you to question Aaron - you often worshipped the ground he walked on as a prosecutor - but this case was practically half of you. You couldn’t bear to see it go the wrong way. “Do you think we have enough to prove he did this beyond a reasonable doubt?”

A sigh leaves his lips as he sets down his pen, chin tilting up until his focus levels on you, eyes wrinkling around the corners. “I know what my job is.” He reminds you evenly, challenging you with a twitch of his lip. “We have witness testimony putting him on the block of two of the kills, the expunged record of sexual assault, the testimony of his ex-girlfriend on his domestic abuse that shows his dislike towards women.”

You press your lips together as you sit down in the chair on the other side of his desk, crossing your leg over your knee. “Yes, but they have his wife. She’d be willing to perjure herself to give him an alibi, no doubt about it, we’ve seen it before. Also, you said it yourself, his record was expunged. That’s asking for the defense attorney to twist it into how he was wrongfully accused, how this is twice in a row. This man is charming people by just existing, Aaron, we have to come up with either more concrete physical evidence or a way to show the jury that he’s not the kind man he appears to be.”

Realizing you might’ve overstepped, you clear your throat. “Sir.”

Clearing his throat, Aaron leans back further in his seat, long legs stretching out and splaying apart as he crosses his arms over his chest. He looks dangerous, holding the same focus and grit that you often saw displayed across his face in the courtroom, sending a soft flutter of butterflies in your stomach. Dark and determined eyes watch all of your movements closely, jaw set despite the seemingly relaxed state of his body, a tuft of hair draping over his forehead and his patterned tie just slightly crooked around his neck.

“What would you do?” He questions, keeping his face even. “You want to be a lawyer, don’t you? You’ll have to make these decisions for yourself. So, what would you do?”

You swallow, anxiety creeping its way up your spine. While he doesn’t look upset at your obvious overstepping, the conversation feels like a game of tug-of-war. Pull too hard, you risk anger. Let go, you risk kicking yourself for giving up so easily. “Bring in his wife and have her sit on the wrong side.”

The prosecutor’s eyebrows raise. You can tell you’ve caught him by surprise, watching as he shifts his weight and leans a bit closer to you in curiosity. “Why?”

“During the trial, Temple is going to keep to the calm, good guy demeanor that they’ve tried to paint him to be. His attorney is going to coach him into looking likeable, sophisticated, someone who would never kill anyone, much less four people. But, based on the evidence with his domestic abuse and all of his victims being women, you can infer that he has something against women who go against what he believes is correct.” You lean closer to the desk as you talk, being extra aware to hold the tense eye contact with him.

After a pause, you continue. “If his wife, who believes he has trained to obey his every command, looks to be deceiving him, the irritation will show. If he believes his only solace is his wife and that that one person is betraying him, his good-looking image would immediately be reconsidered by the jury when he snaps at you. If you press into him, explaining to the jury exactly why he looks so agitated and nervous, he will grow defensive, further proving your own point.” Your hands move wildly as you speak, growing excited as your idea spills out of your mouth.

Despite your excitement, Aaron stays in his relaxed position, bending his knees as he places his feet firmly on the floor. “That sounds too risky to make it our smoking gun.” He responds, head shaking just a smidge. “If the wife doesn’t agree or if he’s able to keep his composure, we’re right back where we are at this moment.”

The way he speaks, so easily dismissing you, makes irritation prick at your skin. Your idea is good. You know it’s good. It’s been done before, tactics used to sway the jury’s opinion over the defendant’s personality rather than the evidence laid out in front. At the end of the day, everyone held personal opinions about people – those ruled above any fact that someone could provide. It’s why celebrities are so highly revered despite the controversies painting the front page of magazines.

“Let me talk to the wife.” You thread your fingers together, cracking your knuckles anxiously. “I can get through to her. If Temple is the abuser we think he is, she’s been wanting to get away for a while, but hasn’t because of her kids. All I have to do is empathize and bring up her confidence. I can do it,” you insist, embarrassed by the slightly pleading tone lacing your words.

With a heavy sigh, like this conversation was unimportant, Aaron scoots his chair forward, elbows hitting his desk as his body leans towards you. “That’s not going to happen.” His tone is still even, cool, probably as an attempt to be reassuring while he crushes your idea beneath your nice shoes. “If his wife tells him or his defense attorney that we tried to turn her against him, the attorney will use that to their advantage to poison the jury and paint us as the villians. Every move we make has to be careful, I don’t need to remind you.”

Your lips part again to speak, however your words fall short on your tongue when he raises one hand, immediately silencing you. “Please. Focus on the other cases we have. I will work this case on my own and let you know if I need anything. As for the courtroom,” he takes a sip of the coffee you gave him, clearing his throat, “you are allowed to sit next to me at the prosecutor’s bench. To observe and learn, not to participate.”

His focus finds you again, eyebrow raising in question. “Understood?”

The urge to let your irritation boil over is intense, causing you to bite at the inside of your cheek to silence yourself. The both of you are held in a tense staring contest for a few heartbeats before you nod, standing back up. “Yes, sir.”

Without waiting for an answer, you turn around, heels clacking loudly against the tile floor as you rush towards your own office.

For the rest of your shift, you try to avoid Aaron as much as possible, dropping off files when he was away from his office and avoiding any meeting room he might be occupying. You’re annoyed, if not hurt, by his instant dismissal of your ideas. Usually, anything you suggested tended to be mulled over by him, accepted with a grunt of approval or denied with an explanation of exactly why. To be waved off so easily on the biggest case of your career so far was so annoying, so demeaning on the work you had put in in the year you had been working underneath him.

After finishing up all of your work for the day, long after the sun had set beneath the horizon, you immediately shut the door to your office before making your way back through the hallway, pulling your bag up higher on your shoulder. You are aware that you look slightly insane, chin tilted up as your feet thunk against the ground at an annoyingly fast pace, but it’s a price you’re willing to pay. You just need to leave the four walls of the office in order to simmer down the irritation before it turns into a grudge.

Unfortunately, you peer into every meeting room as you step by it, only to look directly into the eyes of Aaron. Across from him, you could only make out a mop of blonde hair, recognizing it as Mrs. Temple. Her shoulders are stiff as she keeps her focus on the prosecutor, having not noticed that his attention was now directed over her head.

Quickly, you turn your attention away, heading straight for the exit. You weren’t supposed to work on the case anymore – it wasn’t your business what he was doing.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Court days were always extremely stressful days. Every small thing mattered. What time you arrived, if you were too late or too early, what you wore and how you presented yourself. Even if you weren’t the person on the stands, or even one of the lawyers talking, you would be scrutinized. The last thing you needed was to embarrass Aaron.

Pulling your shoulders back, you practically strut into the courthouse, fingers curled around the handle of your briefcase. Your power walk is only stopped by the sight of Temple’s defense attorney, watching as a wicked smile curls on her lip, looking over at you and blocking your way. “I see Hotchner doesn’t have a very good hold on his dog, letting you walk around by yourself. Scared you’re going to embarrass him?”

You narrow your eyes as you look closer at her face, playing innocent. “Did you miss your Botox appointment? Or are you just stressed about how hard you’re going to lose this case?” Your head tilts slightly to the side, the corner of your lip threatening a smile.

Her brows raise in slight surprise at your bite, lips parting to respond, although she’s interrupted by the clearing of a throat. “Counselor. You best teach your paralegal some manners.”

Manicured hand raising, you’re ready to bite back again, only to stop short when you feel a tug on the back of your neck. Without you noticing, Aaron’s hand had slid up the space between your shoulder blades, his index finger curling around the hair at the nape of your neck and giving it a sharp, but brisk tug. The temporary pain sends a slight shudder down your spine, eyes turning towards him accusingly. Leaning down, he murmurs low enough for only you to hear. “Behave.”

You manage to keep your cool long enough for him to straighten his spine, looking back at the other attorney. “The only time you should be speaking to my paralegal is if you are requesting to speak to me. The only time you should be asking for me is if you are willing to discuss a deal. Until then, any conversation you have is not my business. See you in court.” His tone is authoriative and straight to the point, leaving no room for argument before his hand is on the small of your back, leading you away.

“I can handle myself.” You grumble, although you make no attempt to step away from him. You’d spend the next few days by his side in the courtroom, anyways, it wasn’t like you could avoid him. Plus, the warm feeling of his hand through your shirt was comforting the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You always had the worst anxiety on court days. Aaron usually poked fun at you for it – when it was lesser charges and not multiple counts of murder, that is.

He sighs as he opens a door to one of the conference rooms, guiding you in before shutting it. The room isn’t too small, enough to fit a larger table and a group of people, but it feels like he’s looming over you, taking up too much space. “You need to get yourself together. It is a stressful day and you don’t need to make it worse by arguing with the defense. Focus.” He crosses his arms over his chest, the act almost sinful with the way it makes his toned arms press against the fabric. “You aren’t speaking today, but I will be speaking a lot of words you spoke. You will be the one speaking in front of the jury soon enough, you need to take this time to learn, not bicker.”

The way he looks at you, dark eyes searing into your own while he scolds you, makes you feel small. Not insignificant, just small. You’re very aware that you are just one piece of this puzzle. You’re also aware that you are incredibly attracted to the stern version of Aaron Hotchner.

Sighing, you shake out your shoulders, cracking your knuckle before nodding. “Yes, sir. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I just need you to make sure the best version of yourself is walking into that courtroom. And stop cracking your knuckles, it makes you look nervous. You can be nervous, but you cannot show it.” His brow raises as he stares you down before his hand finds the doorknob. “Are you ready?”

You nod, adjusting your blazer before grabbing your briefcase tighter. “Yes.”

Aaron nods back at you, opening the door. He holds it open for you to step out before following close behind, his shoulder brushing yours as you make your way towards the courtroom.

Once you’re in, you let every thought not regarding the case fall away. Instead, you go over the facts in your head. There wouldn’t be much today, other than opening statements, but it was vital. The opening statements were the jury’s first impression of your side – and one of the only things they’d actually remember.

As you settle down at the prosecution bench, you take a quick look around the courtroom. There’s a few faces you don’t recognize, but they’re blurs alongside the faces you do know. The first victim’s kids, the second victim’s parents. It’s almost suffocatingly sad.

Your eyes raise again as the courtroom doors open, revealing Mrs. Temple and her two kids. You note the nervousness on her face, but you chalk it up to the fact that she was walking into a court session for her husband of a few years. That is, until you watch her saunter to one of the benches behind you, settling herself down on the wrong side of the courtroom.

Immediately, irritation prickles at your skin. Accusatory eyes find the side of Aaron’s face, which is perfectly settled and calm as he stares down at the pad of paper in front of him, scribbling notes after notes. If he feels your gaze, which you’re sure he does, he doesn’t react to it.

Not one bit.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

The trial goes by quicker than expected. After Aaron cross-examined Temple himself on the stand, digging into all of the worst parts of him in the perfectly suave tone he saved for the courtroom, the defense attorney had practically begged for the plea deal you two had offered long before. It took a couple of days to actually settle the details, but then it was done. Over. Months upon months of work just for it to go away in a couple weeks.

Now, you’re back to normal life. Who knew how long it’d be until you got into another courtroom again, especially since you had been doing everything in your power to avoid him. It was childish, how something so simple had hurt your feelings, but you had never been one to let a bruised ego just get swept away.

You’re nosedeep in a pile of cases late at night, sitting on your desk for a new perspective with your leg crossed over your knee, when there’s a knock on the door of your office. Your head raises quickly, thinking it’s a prosecutor needing something urgent from you, only to take in the sight of Aaron. He’s obviously on his way out, his necktie loose around his neck and the buttons on his wrist and collar undone. You feel dumb for the way your heart flutters.

“Can I come in?” He questions, leaning against your doorframe.

“Depends. Are you going to steal my stapler?” You deadpan. The past couple of weeks, you haven’t been hiding your discontent, nor have you had any intent to. You did your work, you put in the hours and you weren’t outwardly rude – what would he do, fire you?

A shadow slowly looms over you as he steps closer, two palms landing on your desk on either side of you. His presence is so close, so sudden, that you’re automatically leaning back, eyes widening as you glance up at him. “Can I help you?”

“I didn’t steal anything.” Aaron starts, his brow furrowing as he looks down at you sternly. “You had a great idea and I decided to use it. I know I was a bit blunt when I dismissed it the first time, and I apologize for that. I should’ve told you when I changed my mind, and I apologize for that. But I’d appreciate it if you’d speak to me instead of acting like a brat for weeks.”

That word, falling off of his tongue so easily, mixed with the slightly dishelved look he was currently sporting, was enough to have blood quickly rushing to your cheeks, heat gathering there as you stared back at him. There’s a part of you that wants to argue, however you cannot get the words out.

The prosecutor must take your surprise for being upset, sighing as his shoulders fall. His head droops for just a moment, causing a strand of hair to come loose and drape over his forehead. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel any type of negative way.” He sounds the most sincere you have ever heard him – which was saying a lot, seeing as he spoke in a cool, collected cadence most of the time.

Not wanting to make him beg for forgiveness, you find your words. “It’s okay. I probably was being a bit of a brat.” You admit, raising one shoulder in a shrug.

“Oh, you definitely were.” He stands up straight, removing his hands from their spots beside you as he shoves them into the pockets of his slacks. The air around you feels ten times cleaner now that he’s no longer in your space, although the feeling is bittersweet.

Aaron is quiet for a moment, eyes flickering to the work on your desk and the ground before back at your face. “You’re the hardest worker here at this office and an essential asset to me. I didn’t intend to offend you and I never will.” His eyes glint with a hint of amusement, the familiar wrinkle on the side of his lips deepening with the ghost of a smile. “Can’t have my best girl leaving me in the dust because I wasn’t clear.”

“Now you’re just trying to flatter me.” You roll your eyes, standing up and setting the files in your hands on your desk. You’re trying your very best to seem calm and collected, although you’re admittedly extremely flustered. For someone who craved to be recognized growing up, you’d never been the best at taking compliments.

“Just a little bit.” He admits bluntly, a small chuckle rumbling in his chest before he turns his back to you, making his way towards the door. “Go home, take a break. Come in late tomorrow. We have a lot to do so I need you at your best.”

With that, he steps out of your office, leaving you to watch him walk past the glass and disappear down the hallway, ignoring the intense thudding of your heart against your ribcage.

You’ve got it bad.

#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds

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fawnistry · 13 days ago

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ᥫ᭡ dead dove: do not eat.

content warnings: noncon/dubcon, medical experimentation, forced arousal, body betrayal, sensory manipulation, physical restraint, pain-play, overstimulation, forced orgasms

▷ preview: zayne is a morally bankrupt scientist testing a new aphrodisiac drug, and you are his unwilling subject.

the cold metal table bites into your bare skin as you struggle against the restraints. zayne watches, his dark eyes gleaming behind those round glasses, fingers tapping against his clipboard.

"subject 47," he murmurs, voice smooth as poison. "let’s see how you handle this."

the syringe glints under the harsh lab lights, the unknown liquid inside a sickly, iridescent pink.

"new formula," he explains, almost conversational. "designed to amplify nerve sensitivity by… oh, about 300%." the needle slides into your arm before you can scream. "side effects include—" he pushes the plunger, and the burn floods your veins, "—inescapable arousal."

you gasp as the heat spreads, your body betraying you instantly. every brush of air against your skin feels like a tongue, every shift of fabric like fingers dragging too hard. zayne smirks, pulling out a recorder.

"subject exhibits rapid onset of symptoms: dilated pupils, increased heart rate, flushed skin." his gloved hand skates up your inner thigh, and you jerk, a whimper tearing from your throat. "ah, and heightened sensitivity to touch. excellent."

you beg him to stop, but he only tilts his head, amused. "scream all you want. no one can hear you down here." his fingers dip between your legs, and you sob—the contact is agony, pleasure, too much, not enough.

"fascinating," he murmurs, watching your hips buck involuntarily. "the drug seems to override conscious resistance." he circles your clit with clinical precision, scribbling notes as you writhe. "tell me, does it feel good? or does it just feel inescapable?"

you can’t answer, your mind fraying under the onslaught. he adds another layer—a blindfold, noise-cancelling headphones—plunging you into darkness, where the only sensations are his hands and the drug’s cruel insistence.

"let’s test pain thresholds," he muses, and then his teeth sink into your shoulder. you arch, a scream locked in your chest as pleasure-pain blurs into white-hot need.his fingers push inside you, fucking you with brutal efficiency.

"vocalizations increase with penetration—interesting."

his grip on your hips is bruising, his pace relentless. you come without permission, your body seizing as he hums approvingly. "orgasm achieved in under three minutes. dosage may need adjustment."

but he doesn’t stop. he unzips his pants with one hand, still jotting notes like you’re nothing more than data between his brutal thrusts. your body convulsing with unbearably pleasure as his heavy cock kisses the walls of your soaked cunt.

when he finally unplugs your ears, your voice is raw from screaming. he just smiles, wiping his hands on a towel. "wonderful results. we’ll continue tomorrow." the door clicks shut, leaving you trembling, aching, and already dreading the next experiment.

#𐔌 . ⋮ lads .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱#zayne smut #zayne x reader #zayne x reader smut #zayne x you #zayne lads #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #lads smut #lads x reader #zayne fic #zayne drabble

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mysteryshoptls · 5 months ago

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SSR Jamil Viper - Nightmare Suit Vignette

”From all the children to the witches flying through the sky”

[Halloween Town – Dr. Finkelstein's Lab]

Jamil: Sally-san, I've made a dish sample. Could I ask you to taste test it?

Sally: Of course, I don't mind at all. In fact, I was waiting for you to say something, since it had been smelling good for some time now…

Jamil: Is that so. Well, I do hope it suits your taste… Try it with this sauce here.

Sally: There are a lot of finely chopped ingredients in this sauce. I wonder how it will taste.

Sally: …Oh, this is delicious! You really brought forth the flavor of the herbs.

Jamil: That's right. Do you think the others in Halloween Town will like it?

Sally: I know I like it. But hm… I think the folks in this town would prefer it to be a little more acidic.

Jamil: A little more acidic, I see. Should I add more vinegar, or add fruit to the sauce…?

Sally: There was that one plant with the huge leaves, remember? What if you were to chop up the stem and cook it together?

Jamil: Huge leaves…? I think I know which ones you're talking about, but just in case, can you point out…

???: Sally, help me out here. At this rate, I'll lose my head.

Sally: Jack…! You look so troubled. What's going on?

Jack Skellington: No matter how much I think about it, I can't figure it out, so I feel like I'm going crazy. I need your advice.

Jamil: …Looks as though this is a serious matter. I'll leave you two be.

Jamil: Now that I have received Sally's thoughts, I'll proceed with fixing the dishes. The two of you should have a good talk together…

Sally/Jack Skellington: WAIT!!

Jamil: Eh?

Jack Skellington: I'd like you to listen to what I have to say too, Jamil-kun. I need to figure out a way out of this funk.

Sally: I'd like to ask your help as well. There's no way we can leave Jack like this. Please, help him.

Jamil: …O-Okay, then. If both of you are going to insist like that, I'll join in.

Jamil: So, what's the issue you need help with?

Jack Skellington: It's about the Halloween preparations. I heard that in your world, you guys do some sort of "illumination" event.

Jack Skellington: So I had this thought… What if the Jack-o'-Lanterns light up right as I appear?

Jack Skellington: Wouldn’t it be grand if the lanterns lit up one by one as I walk forward!?

Jack Skellington: …Only, I just can't figure out how to get the timing of everything being lit up right.

Jamil: Wait, so you've already decided to do it!? Shouldn't you determine whether it's actually feasible, first…?

Sally: This is how Jack always works. Once he comes up with something, he won't back down.

Jack Skellington: Sally, Jamil-kun. Please, give me some good ideas!

Sally/Jamil: …...

Jamil: Well… An illumination would definitely liven things up.

Jamil: Back in our world, we have certain programming…

Jamil: We generally have people with specialized knowledge use specific tech to control that sort of illumination.

Jack Skellington: Well, that's wonderfully useful to know. Is that something we would be able to do, as well?

Jamil: I wouldn't really know how to do it. Even in our world, there are only a handful of people who would be able to pull it off.

Jack Skellington: Hmm… I wonder if there's any way we can make it happen.

Jamil: Right… What if you were to ask Dr. Finkelstein?

Jamil: I hear he's an excellent scientist. He may come up with a good answer.

Jack Skellington: I see, you're right! I wonder if he's at home right now.

Sally: No, he's out, helping with preparations. I think he should be in the town center…

Jack Skellington: Alright. Well then, I'll head off to find him!

Jamil: I do hope you find a solution. And with that, I'll go back to finishing my work.

Jack Skellington: What are you talking about, Jamil-kun! You're coming with me!

Jack Skellington: I have no knowledge of how things work in your world. I need you to explain things to the Doctor for me!

Jamil: No, wait, I need to finish preparing the food… Sally-san, can't you back me up here?!

Sally: Once Jack starts saying something, he doesn't listen to anything else.

Sally: I'll let Trey-kun and the others know, so… Please take care of Jack for me.

Jack Skellington: Thanks, Sally. Okay, now that that's settled, let's go right now!

Jack Skellington: COME, COME, HURRY, HURRY!

Jamil: Fine. I understand, I'll join you. …Why am I always resigned to the same sort of role wherever I go?

[Halloween Town – Center]

Jack Skellington: Alright, we made it to the town center. The Doctor should be setting the decorations up around here somewhere.

[nyoom!]

Jamil: !! Jack-san, stand back!

[thud! roll, roll…]

Jamil: Why did half a pumpkin come flying at us!?

Jamil: Oh, it's been sliced so beautifully… Wait, I mean, what just happened?

Halloween Town Resident: Huh? Oh hey, it's Jack and Jamil! You guys just showed up out of the blue, that surprised us!

Jamil: We should be the ones saying that! Was it you who threw that pumpkin at us?

Halloween Town Resident: No, not at all! We didn't do anything! It was all because of this big guy slicing that pumpkin in two.

Jamil: This big guy?

Jamil: Are you talking about this thing with the huge cutter? It just looks like it's a sharp blade held between two long poles.

Jamil: They're using something this big just to slice pumpkins in half? Or maybe… nah, it can't be.

Jack Skellington: Oh, is this your first time seeing something like this? Then, I bet you don't know about this huge box with all these spikes inside.

Jamil: This big box…? I'm afraid I don't. What is it used for?

Vampire: It's to squeeze the life out of… fresh juice! Heeheehee!

Jamil: Ach! He just popped out of nowhere, said his piece and then left again…

Jamil: But seriously, juice? I feel like this would be pretty difficult to use to squeeze fruits… I think I won't think further about it.

???: Ah, Jack-san. So, you were over here. I've come to collect you.

Jamil: Jade? What do you mean collect him?

Jade: As soon as he heard of the concept of illumination, he said, "This won't be enough!" and ran off so forlornly…

Jade: And so, were you able to concoct some brilliant idea, Jack-san?

Jack Skellington: Well, that's… Not yet. I haven't come across something that just screams "This is it!" yet.

Jade: If you find yourself in a quandary, please don't feel the need to keep it bottled up inside yourself. Both I and Azul would be happy to be of help.

Jamil: Hey, don't try to peddle your business here of all places. Seriously, you Octavinelle folk are always on the lookout for opportunity.

Jamil: We're actually searching for Dr. Finkelstein to ask for his advice. Have you seen him at all?

Jade: I'm afraid I haven't. Vil-san should be helping out nearby, perhaps you could ask him?

Jamil: Vil-senpai…? Oh, that might work! Jack-san, what if we were to ask Vil-san for his thoughts?

Jamil: He's an actor… He has experience in working on projects that garner a lot of attention, so he may be helpful for not only the illumination, but also on various ways to implement it.

Jack Skellington: Is that right? I might be able to really learn something by talking to him. Let's head over to Vil-kun right away!

Jamil: Vil-senpai, thanks for taking the time. We were hoping to get your take on something for Halloween…

Jamil: Jack-san is saying that he'd like to appear before everyone in a very flashy manner, with a resounding illumination.

Vil: The most important scene to prepare in any production is when the main character appears, yes. I support your plan to enhance that moment. However…

Vil: Halloween Town doesn't have any sort of specialized equipment of that sort… I feel as though it would be difficult to set up some elaborate lighting scheme as of right now.

Malleus: There's no need to use any human-made equipment. I can enhance Skellington's appearance with my magic.

Jamil: Right, using this guy was also an option, hm.

Malleus: Would you be wreathed in light? Shall we raise fireworks into the sky? Ah, or perhaps we could make it snow.

Jack Skellington: Oooh…! That's amazing, Malleus-kun! I bet you could even make it rain bugs to frighten every…

Vil/Jamil: ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Vil: You want to rain down bugs? Absurd! That idea is the worst thing I've ever heard.

Jamil: YEAH! …Ahem. Pardon my outburst.

Jamil: Jack-san, you're the Pumpkin King. Should you not rely on your own strengths to give your townsfolk a scare, instead of using bugs?

Jamil: Even if we were to secure Malleus-senpai's cooperation… This is the only time we'll be able to help you with this, Jack-san.

Jamil: Next time, you'll have to bring about Halloween by yourselves, just like your previous years.

Jamil: If we were to implement a method that can even be executed by the others in this town, then it can be utilized for future years down the road.

Jack Skellington: Jamil-kun… You're an inspiration! You were not only thinking of this Halloween, but for the next ones, too.

Jack Skellington: I get it. I won't rely on magic or bugs. Let's think of something that all of us Halloween Town residents can do.

Malleus: Hm… It seems I am unneeded. Call me if you change your mind.

[Malleus leaves]

Jade: Oh, my… Is he sulking, now?

Vil: He isn't that much of a child… I'm sure. Come now, let's get this discussion started.

Jamil: So, we need to come up with a method to give him a grand appearance without any specialized equipment, or using magic, huh…

Vil: Yes… This may be a cliché, but what about an entrance while riding something?

Vil: The higher up one is, the easier it would be to garner the attention of others as opposed to simply walking. We can even make sure the spotlight is on one focal point.

Jade: That's a good idea. Just like how the tales of the mermaid princess even tell of how her father, the king, would appear before everyone on a chariot pulled by dolphins.

Jamil: I actually was reminded of the legend of the princess of the oasis that's prevalent in the Scalding Sands.

Jamil: With golden camels, peacocks, and various other animals and dancers in tow…

Jamil: A young man presented himself before her in an extravagant parade.

Jamil: Hmm, a parade…

Jamil: Jack-san, I've thought of something good.

[Halloween Town – Center]

Jamil: Jack-san, I've thought of something good.

Jack Skellington: I see that gleam in your eye… You look pretty proud of yourself. What kind of plan do you have up your sleeve?

Jamil: We should throw a parade.

Jade: A parade?

Jade: Back at Night Raven College… At our school, we tend to have one as a finale on Halloween.

Jamil: That's right. We tend to have one at the start of our feasts in Scarabia, as well. …More often than not.

Vil: A parade would definitely be grand and lively. It's not a bad idea to keep the audience's attention.

Vil: However, wouldn't we require a large number of people to put on a parade?

Vil: Do you intend on having the townsfolk learn how to parade march?

Jamil: Not at all. The only one who will be in the parade will be Jack-san.

Jack Skellington: Just me?

Jamil: Ah, well, of course, we'll still need all hands on deck to help…

Jamil: All the townsfolk are looking forward to seeing how you'll arrive on Halloween day.

Jamil: We couldn't possibly ask them to march behind you in the parade!

Jamil: Instead, we need to make sure your gallant appearance is firmly burned into their mind.

Jack Skellington: You're right. It's just like you say, Jamil-kun! I want all my fellow residents to see me clearly.

Jamil: And so, that's where Vil-senpai's earlier idea comes into play.

Jack Skellington: His earlier idea…? Oh, you mean where I arrive while riding something.

Jack Skellington: Jade-kun mentioned the story with the dolphin pulling the chariot. And what was it Jamil-kun said again…?

Jamil: Ah, I hadn't actually mentioned what he rode, right. That young man presented himself riding in on the back of an elephant…

Jack Skellington: An "elephant"? We don't have such a creature in Halloween Town.

Jamil: An elephant is an extremely large animal with a long nose, magnificent tusks, and large ears.

Jack Skellington: I can just imagine something utterly frightful just from that description. I'm getting chills.

Jade: Well, we can't have that. I suppose we should hurry and find an elephant and bring it here to Halloween Town as soon as possible, then!

Jamil: Hey, don't just throw that out there!

Jade: What do you mean? I am simply attempting to accommodate Jack-san's request.

Vil: Jamil's doing all he can to wrap this up quickly, don't cause any unnecessary issues.

Jade: But it would be no fun if the plan were to go off so smoothly without a hitch.

Jamil: It's not like someone like you from Octavinelle would do something without taking a fee, anyway. So, shut up and just let me deal with this!

Jack Skellington: Hey, what are the three of you whispering about over there?

Jamil: We were simply discussing his idea on bringing an elephant into town.

Jamil: As a concept, I don't think it's terrible. However…

Jack Skellington: Oh, is there something problematic about it?

Jamil: Jack-san, you said that you'd want everyone to be able to see you clearly.

Jamil: But if you were to ride on the back of a large elephant…

Jamil: Wouldn't there be people who wouldn't be able to see your expressions, let alone your silhouette?

Jamil: And we want everyone from those brats― I mean from all the children to the witches flying through the sky to see you!

Jack Skellington: Oh no. So if I do that, not everyone will be able to enjoy themselves…

Jack Skellington: I would have loved to have seen an elephant, myself… But I suppose we should leave that for another time.

Jack Skellington: Ahhh, we've come full circle… Urgh… What should I do?

Jamil: THUS!! What if you were to ride a horse?

Jamil: There are many scenes in movies and fairy tales in which a king would appear before his people while riding a horse. Right, Vil-senpai?

Vil: That's true, it does tend to give them a heroic aura. For this production, it doesn't have to be a real one. We only need to make it look just as striking.

Jack Skellington: A horse… A horse, huh! Yeah, that sounds perfect. Now it feels like the last piece of the puzzle just clicked into place!

Jack Skellington: Oh, what if we were to gather up some straw to make a horse? I want to make it look terrifying to perfectly suit the King of Halloween.

Jamil: You want to make a straw horse? That's definitely not something I've ever seen back in my world. What a brilliant idea, Jack-san.

Jamil: Ah, lovely, I'm glad that we've assuaged your worries. I'm looking forward to Halloween day!

Jade: It seems as though everything has wrapped up without any further issues. Although, I can't help but feel a little disappointed…

Jade: You were able to bring some almost impossible request back into the realm of feasibility without rejecting it outright…

Jade: Heh, if anyone could have done it, it would've been you, Jamil-san. I guess it's to be expected… since you're so experienced in dealing with unreasonable behavior.

Vil: Indeed. On top of that, he even found a way to utilize my strengths… Looks like everything was settled thanks to your careful thinking.

???: Jack, Jamil-kun!

Jamil: Sally-san, what are you doing here?

Sally: You didn't come back, so I started to get worried. Have you all decided how Halloween will be kicked off yet?

Jack Skellington: Yeah! Jamil-kun gave us a spectacular idea.

Sally: Well, now...! I'm so happy to see a huge smile on your face, Jack. It's all thanks to Jamil, I'm sure.

Sally: I don't know if me or the other townsfolk would've been able to clear up his worries.

Sally: I only wish Jamil-kun could stay in this town forever…

Jack Skellington: That's a great idea! You should stay here in Halloween Town and help us prepare for Halloween forever.

Jamil: I am beyond honored to have such high praise from the both of you.

Sally/Jack Skellington: So, then…!

Jamil: I appreciate your invitation, but I'll have to respectfully decline.

Jamil: Back home, there are many things that would fall apart without my assistance… I worry for the people I left behind.

Jack Skellington: I see… Well, that's a shame. You truly are a prudent guy. I totally understand why so many rely on you.

Jamil: Thank you.

Jamil: While I'm here… No, while we're here we'll make sure this Halloween will go smoothly.

Jamil: Let's make this Halloween the most enjoyable and scariest one yet.

Requested by @farfalla049.

#twisted wonderland #twst #jamil viper #jade leech #vil schoenheit #malleus draconia #twst jamil #twst jade #twst vil #twst malleus #sally #jack skellington #twst translation #twst halloween #lost in the book with nightmare before christmas #mention: finkelstein #mention: trey #mention: azul

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bobbedazzled · 1 month ago

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LADS As College Majors

pairings: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb x reader content: lads and their college majors a/n: I did not properly proofread this, something short and just for fun hehe. I have drabbles to pair with this that I might post before the idea slips from me

──⠀. ⋆ ⭒ ˚ . ⋆⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Xavier - Undecided

Class sleeper, always there before everyone else

Visits the cafeteria at odd hours

A commuter but has friends, including you, that let him sleep in their dorm

Is the reason why the microwave was removed from the dorm kitchen (forgot to add water to his ramen)

Falls asleep and misses class with you

The two of you share a word doc to exchange notes

Eats snacks that you leave unattended (in your drawer)

You first crossed paths with Xavier on the rare occasion he arrived late. Without realizing it, you had taken what was his unofficial assigned seat. You settled in comfortably, only to sense the subtle shift in the atmosphere when he wordlessly took the spot beside you. The silence between you felt weighted, thick with an unspoken tension.

The next day, in a quiet attempt to make amends, you chose the seat next to him, sliding your notes from the previous class across the desk as a peace offering. At first, he barely acknowledged the gesture, his indifference seemed difficult to breach. But over time, as your paths continued to cross, that wall began to crack. Gradually, he came to rely on you not just for lecture notes and deadline reminders, but as an easy excuse to escape social obligations he had no interest in.

Despite his erratic sleep schedule, he excelled in his studies, something you both marveled at but never questioned.. The two of you found a rhythm in the long nights spent together in the library, bonded by shared exhaustion and the frantic rush to meet page counts before midnight.

── 𓂅 ⋆ ❅ ‧ ₊ ˚⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Zayne - Biology Major on pre-med track

Childhood friend that you didn’t know attended the same school

Knows your schedule and scolds you when you miss class

Breaks questions down instead of sharing his answers

Rarely at the cafeteria (hides snacks in his dorm)

Responds to texts at odd hours

Can only convince him to go out when finals are over (he won’t make it past the pregame)

Goes dark on his lab days

You never expected to see such a familiar face so soon after moving in. Yet there he stood just a few feet away, his gaze flickering toward you with reluctance. He looked the same, yet different. Taller, sharper, more worn down by the weight of the semesters that’d passed before you. The reunion was brief and awkward, slipping through your fingers before you could find the right words. But just as quickly as he slipped away, somehow, after that moment, he was always around.

At first, it felt like coincidence. The passing glances in the hallways, the quiet presence of him in the same cafés, the way he always seemed to be just within reach. It took you far longer than it should have to realize how much he enjoyed your company. He never said it outright, but it was there, in the way he tolerated the chaos you brought into his otherwise structured life.

But come midterms and finals, he would vanish. While everyone else crowded together, cramming in last-minute study sessions, he was nowhere to be found. You figured he had simply grown tired of you, that the effortless companionship you had fallen into had been nothing more than passing amusement.

What you didn’t notice was subtle. The way he lingered just a moment too long after class, how his scoldings about your attendance had less to do with academics and more to do with wanting to see you. To you, Zayne was distant, unreadable—but to him, you were the one distraction he secretly craved.

── .⋆｡𖦹 . 𓇼 ˖°⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Rafayel - College of the Arts/Art history

Just as uninterested as you are in the class

Hogs notes just to be annoying

Takes it personally when you go anywhere alone

Frequents the writing center to volunteer

Lives in off-campus apartments but practically lives with you

Has argued with TA!Sylus more than once

Emails professors to opt out of group projects

You can’t quite remember how it started—how your conversations with Rafayel first began. It was seamless, almost too perfect, like slipping into a story already in motion. One day, you greeted another classmate, and suddenly, there he was. And then, he was everywhere. What started as casual run-ins in group settings soon became something else entirely. Before you realized it, he had shifted from being a friend of a friend to someone you sought out on your own, someone whose absence felt noticeable.

He had a reputation for being difficult, stubborn, impossible to work with. And yet, there you were, walking across campus with him at your side like he belonged there. He hated studying when he wasn’t “in the zone,” and had a talent for persuading you to abandon your academic responsibilities in favor of something far more enticing. A trip to the activity center, window shopping at the mall, wandering along the beach with no real destination in mind. He always had an excuse, always a reason why class could wait. “You can always get the notes later,” he’d say, completely unbothered by the consequences. And, of course, it worked out for him. He had no trouble collecting notes from others with his pretty privilege.

You, on the other hand, stuck with him as your only connection in class, you found yourself relying on his promises—his casual assurances that he’d help you catch up. And he knew that. He knew exactly how much you depended on him, how easily you fell with his whims. But that didn’t mean he made it easy for you. He relished in the way you gave in to his games without even realizing it.

── ˚° ⋆ 𓍼ོ. ݁ ☕︎ ˖ ོ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sylus - Teacher’s Aide

Grad student who volunteered to help a past professor

Probably a College of Engineering student with a Business minor

A flirt

Offended when labeled a flirt

More helpful than the professor

Instigates arguments about class topics to “keep students engaged.”

Uses his past assignment as submission examples

Carries “coffee” in his tumbler

Sylus puts the "T" in TA—meticulous, composed, and wholly invested in his students' success. His dedication to the role contrasted with his sharp gaze and broody voice. He’s the type of person who commands attention without trying, the kind of academic character that turns into a common campus crush. And yet, despite the longing glances and hopeful advances sent his way, he remains firmly out of reach, turning down confessions with an ease that only adds to his allure.

He entertains the occasional banter, of course. Just enough to keep the classroom lively, to hold his students' attention. “It keeps engagement up,” he insists, but you’ve noticed that his charm never quite extends past the surface. He plays the part well, but never too well. He knows when to hold back.

That’s why you can’t quite make sense of the subtle favor he seems to show you. It’s nothing overt, no obvious favoritism, but it’s there, tugging at the edges of your curiosity. You do well in class, contribute to discussions, never give him a reason to doubt your understanding of the material. And yet, he’s insistent that you visit his office hours, always dropping the suggestion so casually, as if it were nothing.

You don’t question it at first, chalking it up to his thoroughness as an instructor. But after a while, you start to wonder. Does he truly think you need the extra guidance, or is there something else lingering in the spaces between his words? Sylus never lingers on the answer, leaving you to puzzle it out for yourself.

──⠀ᯓ ✈︎ ⋆✴︎˚ ｡⋆⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Caleb - Mechanical Engineering

Walks you to class

Hypes you up for your 8am

Sneaks you in his dorm room (he booked a single for a reason)

Always in the middle of dismantling something

Stays ahead on assignments

Says he’ll help with your homework but becomes a major distraction

Only goes out when you’re invited

It didn’t take long for people to start labeling you as Caleb’s. The whispers spread almost instantly. How he, semesters ahead and loyal to the nonexistent girlfriend he constantly referenced, was suddenly always seen with you. RAs sighed at the sight of you two, sneaking each other in and out of your respective rooms, shaking their heads as if they already knew the battle was lost. It didn’t matter that your interactions were innocent, it’s widely believed that you and him have something going on.

His major was brutal, demanding hours of his time, yet somehow, he always found a way to carve out space for you. If given the choice, he’d rather have you curled up in his room, doing absolutely nothing, while he worked through his assignments than spend a single day to himself. There was something about your presence that made the stress bearable, made the long nights at his desk feel a little less suffocating.

But when midterms and finals rolled around, you knew better than to stay near him. Studying was so much faster without the weight of his gaze, without the way he’d drop his pen just to look at you like you were far more interesting than the notes in front of him. He never outright asked you to stay, but those puppy eyes of his did all the pleading for him. And if you weren’t careful, you knew you’d cave.

┈┈┈┈┈┈

anon asks: can you write a story for each? sylus | zayne | more soon…

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cdragons · 1 year ago

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Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 3

Previous Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But goddamn, Oliver Quick was a fucking close runner-up.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, slight mention of blood, sexual harassment, Felix is delulu and kind of a pig, Reader just wants some fucking peace, Michael is Michael and the best, Oliver is Oliver (the worst)

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who commented and reblogged! I didn't expect this story to gain so many readers, and this was a challenging chapter to write - but only because there were some scenes I couldn't add because it would have gotten too long otherwise.

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

You really wanted to kick yourself in the pants for making such a fucking cheesy wish at night watching the stars with Michael.

Right now, you were leaning to rest your head against a bookshelf in a slant position. You had a splitting migraine that began from the moment you woke up and worsened with nausea from your tutorial. And you couldn’t even go back to your dorm for the rest of the day because your lab course for your gen-ed didn’t allow for absences.

“What’d she do now?” came a voice on your right.

You looked to the right and were blinded by a white and blue-striped button-down shirt with short sleeves tucked into a pair of tan khaki pants.

Your knight-in-silver-framed glasses, Michael Gavey, everyone.

All the guy was missing was a pocket protector with pens and tape wrapped around the bridge, and he would have matched every bullied kid in every high school movie set in the 80s.

You turned around to lean your back against the bookshelves and slowly lowered yourself until your butt was parallel to your feet. Blowing the stray hairs out of your face, you remembered to take deep breaths to prevent you from blowing up at your only friend.

“No,” you sighed, “well – yes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Do you love your classes? Yes. Was Daria Martin still your art teacher, and did she still like you? Yes. Are the rest of your teachers mostly assholes that think all Americans are Appalachian hill-billies? Also, yes. But were you still not excelling and scoring in the top ten after every exam? Naturally, no doubt about it.

But were you as invisible and unnoticed as you were before the break came? No. Did anyone with a pulse give you side-eyed glances after your stunt with the 24/7 shit-faced He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Pretty much, yes. Did most of your problems come from one mythic bitch in a 5’3” flesh suit that had the ‘Juicy’ logo plastered on her ass? Namely, one in particular, Annabel – who was your assigned student partner in your tutorial.

Was your new name among the student body now “Psycho Bitch”? …Unfortunately, yes.

…Okay, so this term has not been going as well as you had hoped during the break.

Annabel hated you – like hated-HATED you. And you had no idea why.

You were pretty sure you were less than blank air to her last term, but now she was determined to make your life a living hell. Last term, she skipped every other session to do whatever Annabel did. But now, it felt like she came to every tutorial for the opportunity to tear apart your work.

You’re pretty confident she was the one who started your new “name” about a few weeks ago when the weather began to warm up.

It’s not as if you were a stranger to being picked and prodded by the people born with silver spoons on their tongues and blessed with golden-tipped wings. You were a public-school kid from grades K-12 who went to Townsend Harris for those last four years. Townsend Harris High School was a public school, but make no mistake – it was just as full of the same bullshit hierarchy that made up every private school in Manhattan.

"Open the doors to all. Let the children of the rich and the poor take their seats together and know of no distinction save that of industry, good conduct, and intellect."

What crock. You only survived those years because every kid knew that your dad was an NYU professor who knew the Dean of Admissions of Columbia. You couldn’t recall how often you wished you had joined your friends at Flushing High or even Bayside.

However, regardless of the snide snarks and bullshit snickers pointed at you, you were left alone for the most part.

Sure – it sucked; that goes without saying. It was naïve of you to assume that people would grow out of the need for drama once they walked through the ivory doors and marble floors of higher education. It was stupid of you to think that everyone would forget about your outburst at Bodleian while they were getting drunk on the New Year.

And while Annabel was one migraine-inducing problem, she wasn’t the worst part of returning. No, that title belonged to her boyfriend, a whole other can of monkeys.

The worst part – the worst part of EVERYTHING – was how Felix fucking Catton was incapable of just leaving you the hell alone. It was like he had a little antenna sticking out of his head specifically for you whenever the two of you were within a ten-foot radius of him. Everywhere you went, it was as if you had a giant blinking arrow above you screaming, “Felix Catton’s New Toy”!

No, you were less than a toy – you were a joke, a gimmick.

God, you should have just stuck to your original plan and applied to any SUNY school that would have accepted you without even looking at your application.

But no, your good-Samaritan-obsessed college counselor called your parents and complained that you weren’t “putting yourself out there” enough. And now you were over thirty-four hundred miles away from home, stuck with the worst people ever. It was like a thousand tiny prickles were running on your skin as your mind filled with static.

Whenever Felix called out to you, it was to invite you to a party or get wasted. One time, he walked up to you insanely plastered and invited you for a quickie in the men’s bathroom. You were in an empty lecture hall since your usual spot in the library was taken, and Michael was still in class, so you didn’t see the point in trying to find an open spot.

Somehow – without you noticing – the guy plopped himself next to you and asked if there were any rooms in the building where he could smoke a joint in.

“Pretty sure you could open the window in the bathroom to smoke in there,” you replied absentmindedly.

And then he put his hand ON YOUR THIGH, leaned to your ear to whisper, “Wanna get out of here to join me? We don’t have only to get high.”

You grabbed all your shit and booked it – out of the building and all the way to your dorm to take a shower that lasted for around twenty minutes. You wanted to get rid of the smell of nicotine and overpriced aftershave. The scent of him on your skin made you wish you could tear it off.

And in your panic, you left your bike at the building’s entrance.

When you returned to retrieve it, it was after dark, and you recruited Michael as your tall and bony human shield.

“Do not ever walk home alone at night,” your mom told you every morning you left for school.

You tried not to think about the haunted look in her eyes each time she told you.

“Wanna skip the dining hall tonight? We can walk to Crowley Street and order take-out at that Pakistani place you like so much.”

Oh, that perked you right up. Jannahs Express was a broke college student’s paradise. The food was cheap, and the owners took pity on the international students. It was slightly more expensive in the UK, but it was the closest you could find with food on par to Kababish on Broadway in Queens. You stifled a laugh remembering the sight of Michael drinking the entire pitcher of water after you dared him to try a dish at ‘regular.’

“Seriously? Do you think you could take more than ‘English-mild’?” you asked as you stood up. “How did you survive your mom’s cooking for so long? She made us Indian food on our last night.”

“Mum grew up in London, and she had neighbors teach her how to make it the traditional way. You’re the only person who could take that level. Lilypad and I got Dad’s taste buds.”

Choking on your spit from laughing at the image of Gregory Gavey’s face turning firetruck red, you felt the migraine slowly disappear.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. God, I can’t imagine the look on his face when –”

A familiar voice that left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, (Y/N). Can we talk?”

You and Michael turned your heads to find Oliver Quick – Michael’s former friend, your former acquaintance – and the sight of him soured the mood instantaneously. You narrowed your eyes to dangerous slits to show your displeasure seeing him as one corner of your lip curled to show a sneer. You never liked the guy. There was just something about how he acted and presented himself. He had a profound desperation to impress everyone around him.

So much so that he immediately dropped Michael after becoming Felix Catton’s new pet. As evidenced by the oversized gray zip-up hoodie blanketing him. Felix’s, no doubt.

Fuck, you hated him.

“Ugh, what do you want?” you snapped, taking a bit of pleasure in seeing how your voice made him flinch.

“Look, can we –” his eyes hastily darted to Michael, then you, then behind him to make sure no one was watching him “– can we talk in private?”

Seriously? That’s how he wants to play this?

In the corner of your eye, you saw how tightly Michael clenched his fists. He was obviously still hurt from the time his ex-friend treated him like shit.

Oh, this will not do.

“Oliver,” you snarled as you crossed your arms over your chest, “whatever the hell you have to say to me, you can say in front of Michael.”

“Can you please not do this now?” he begged with pathetic eyes. How very in-character of him.

“Tick tock, Quick. Are you going to talk, or do I have to throw a drink in your face again? But this time, I’ll smash the glass on your face, too.”

Seeing the look on his face gave you almost a perverse sense of joy. Maybe this is why bullies exist.

“Do you think you’ll be at the pub sometime this week?”

What the fuck? Was he serious? His question caught you completely off-guard. You expected him to ask for notes or even help with homework, as his grades have slipped since becoming an official Felix Catton fanboy.

“At the pub – Oliver, when have I drunk alcohol in the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“You’ll turn nineteen this year, right? It’s only illegal if you’re under 18,” he tried to put out convincingly.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But you’re forgetting the part where I’m still an American citizen. Just because it’s legal for me to vote doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to drink yet.”

“No one cares about that here!” he almost shouted. “Just come with me to the pub at King’s Arms for the next few nights.”

“No fucking way,” you scoffed. “My parents would kill me if they found out I drank on a school night. Also, in case you forgot, we still have our test tomorrow in History. And I, for one, don’t need to get sloshed every night to feel important.”

Michael tugged on your sleeve and nodded at the small crowd forming around you three. You sighed in silence, agreeing that it wasn’t worth it. You both tried to walk away, but you were grabbed and stumbled back, which caused you to drop your books.

“Ow! Are you kidding–” but a wince broke your complaint as Oliver’s hold on your arm tightened to a painful grip. Your eyes traveled to his face, and you were shocked to see the anger shining in his eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grit out. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

The way his nails dug into your skin made you curse under your breath. Seeing you in pain broke Michael out of his shock at how someone as meek as Oliver Quick could show so much aggression. He rushed to get him off you.

“Are you fucking mental?” he hissed at Oliver once he managed to separate to two of you.

But Oliver’s nail left red scratch marks down to your wrist, even breaking the skin enough to cause little beads of blood to escape. This enraged Michael like you have never seen. Staring at the evidence of his former friend’s clawing, he walked forward and pushed him to the bookshelf before grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael yelled. “She already said no!”

You wiped the blood off your arm with an old travel tissue pack you stole from the plane you took from JFK to London last summer. God, everyone was staring at you guys now. You needed to find a way to contain the situation. If any staff catches you, all three of you may risk trouble. Trouble that would jeopardize your scholarships. You grabbed Michael’s hands to get him to loosen his grip.

“Look, I’ll hear you out–” you looked around and cringed at everyone’s stares, “–just not here.”

This calmed Oliver’s rage enough to get Michael to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay – yeah. Let’s go outside.”

The three of you grabbed your shit and quickly exited the library. You went to the same area behind the building with no windows – ergo, no bystanders to gawk at you.

“Okay, we’re outside. Look, I’m sorry about your arm. But can you please just –”

You lifted your hand to stop him.

“Okay, look. I only said I would hear you out to make you and Michael stop fighting,” you stated matter-of-factly. “None of us could afford to get in trouble with the faculty and staff, and it was getting too out-of-hand. Oliver, I am not going to King Arm’s tonight or any night you ask me. I have my own life, so don’t drag me into yours.”

Oliver gaped like a fish for a few seconds before speaking.

“But you have to! Please! If you do, then maybe he’ll –”

“WHO?” you interrupted, shouting. “Who will be there? Who is so important that you act so fucking psycho for five minutes ago?”

This was too much for you to deal with everything on your plate already.

“Cut the vague bullshit already! Why are you desperate for me to be there? It’s so –” You froze as an epiphany struck down you.

Oh, hell fucking no…

“Are you hoping that Felix will be there?” you asked through clenched teeth.

You felt like a volcano ready to blow with his slight nod. And like a volcano – you blew.

“You mean to tell me that you risked all our asses, attacked, and humiliated me for fucking FELIX CATTON?!”

You couldn’t believe it – you couldn’t fucking believe it. Felix Catton took up so much of your life already; once again, he felt it necessary to take more of it for himself.

How much more could one man take? How much more did he want until it was enough?

He had taken so much – more than any person other than yourself had any right to own. Your education, your peace, and what was next? Your body? Your life? Did he intend to bleed you dry of everything like a parasitic vampire he and his kind pretended not to be?

You were going crazy, insane, and running yourself tired all at once. The absurdity of it all made you laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed until you were gasping for air. You laughed so hard that tears spilled from your eyes as you doubled over.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god! That’s it. Of course, it is. What else could it be?”

Standing straight, you kept laughing, but you were staring at Oliver with an answer clear in your eyes.

“He got bored of you,” you accused him, “didn’t he? So quickly?”

God, how you relished how red his face turned. If you were smart, you would have stopped taunting there – but you were too tired of everything to care.

“It’s been what? A month? Maybe two?” you further pressed. “He really just loves to go through all his toys, huh?”

“(Y/N),” Michael whispered in your ear, “let’s just go.”

He looked at Oliver with disdainful eyes before softening them to look back at you.

“He isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s get your cut cleaned up before we leave.”

You let Michael gently drag you away from the hurricane mess that was Oliver Quick, leaving him to stew in anger and wallow in self-pity on the chilly spring night.

A few days later, you and Michael were walking back to his dorm after watching one of the most notable movie franchises starring one of Hollywood’s best actors.

“How could you not love Pirates of the Caribbean?” you cried. “Johnny Depp is beyond brilliant!”

“Oh, so acting drunk in front of an expensive camera is now considered brilliant?” he quipped back. “Shit, I should have just gone into acting instead.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember his jar of dirt? That scene was completely improvised, by the way – including his fall.”

“Oh – not the stupid jar of dirt! Lil’ kept buggering me all summer doing that scene after I took her to see it!”

“Oh, I meant to ask. What did Lily think of the books I got for her birthday? Were they weird?”

“Are you kidding? She loved them. She keeps going on about how she wants to be Annabeth for Halloween. Oh, by the way, she’s making me dress up as Luke and wants you to go as Thalia.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “Seriously?! Yes, let’s do it. I am so in.”

“She is aware that Luke’s the villain, right?”

“Don’t worry about it so much. She wants to share these memories with you. And you are such a good brother, Mikey.”

“I am never going to escape that name with you,” he groaned, “am I?”

“Nope!” you happily confirmed. “Never! When I write my speech at your wedding, I will mention it at least fifteen times.”

“I’ll allow six.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten, take it or leave it.”

“Ten it is. Pinky-swear.”

You held out your pinky to show sincerity. And like someone raised correctly, Michael respected the sanctity of the swear by reciprocating.

“Perfect! Now that that’s settled, is it okay if I crash at your place for the night? It’s so late, and we don’t have classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Just make sure you – Annabel.”

Wait, what? You stopped walking and turned to look at your friend in confusion.

“Annabel?”

He pointed it out in front of him with a slight nod.

“Annabel,” he confirmed.

Indeed, it was Annabel. But she was sitting slumped against the hallway’s walls with vomit all over her blue dress.

Felix had been going mad for the past few months since his and Farleigh’s return to Oxford. It was already almost May, and he hadn’t come any closer to getting (Y/N)’s attention.

What could he possibly be doing that was so wrong?

He invites you to parties or a drink with you every time he sees you. He had hoped that being friends with Ollie would have given him an “in” with you, but there was no such luck. Did you really have no idea how he felt about you? How much more obvious could he be?

He remembered how happy he was when he realized that Oliver knew you. It was that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms. He recalled it so vividly.

Felix was silent throughout the entire transaction. The sight of you coming over entirely transfixed him. Your hair had two small braids on the side that were attached with small yellow butterfly clips. You were wearing black denim overalls with vintage-looking patches sewn onto the fabric. Your shirt was a light blue-dyed shirt-sleeved t-shirt with splotches of navy blue. It must have been something you made when you were little. The fabric looked soft and worn down. But the size was small enough to hug the curves of your upper torso perfectly. The way the fabric stretched across your tits made him salivate.

After he introduced himself to you, you only responded with a grimace and a slight nod of acknowledgment. He invited you to join him and his friends for a drink, but you only ignored him. His words were meaningless breezes to you – white noise in the background that added to the clang and chatter in the room. He wasn’t even paying attention to Oliver until you threw that drink at him.

“Fucking cunt-rag!” you called Ollie after throwing Farleigh’s drink in his face. You shoved a middle finger for added effect. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Grabbing your coat, you stomped away from the table.

Absentmindedly handing his friend some tissues, Felix had to know what your deal was with Oliver. Were you two dating or just friends? He didn’t know how he felt about his new friend being romantically involved with his angel.

“Wait, do you two know each other?” he asked.

“What?” asked Oliver – not understanding his idol’s question before his mind finally registered it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s a friend of a friend.”

“Were you two ever, like ‘together’?” Felix had to know.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit before shaking his head and panickedly answering.

“No, no, no. We have a few classes together – that’s it.”

Felix couldn’t believe his luck. Ollie must really be his hero.

“Do you think you could introduce us?” he asked excitedly – his molten chocolate eyes were shining ablaze with hope.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Oliver quickly agreed – anything to keep his attention on him.

Felix felt like leaping to the sky. He could run a marathon with how much energy was flooding throughout him. He clapped his hands before grabbing Ollie’s face with both hands and smacking a wet kiss on both cheeks.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Felix went up to get him another pint. “You’re my hero, Ollie. You really are.”

As he lay on his bed, he tried to remember every interaction with you. His last one with you was something he could admit went horribly wrong.

He wandered on the grounds when he stumbled on a building with your bike on the rack. Figuring that you were just in a lecture, Felix figured he could try to catch up with you when it was done. It wasn’t like he had anything important later. He would stay near the entrance and try to catch your attention when you walked out.

Simple.

And because he was God’s favorite, he found you sitting in the middle of an empty classroom. You were taking notes while reading a massive textbook while lightly bobbing your head to whatever was blasting through your earbuds.

Sliding to the seat next to you, he smoothly asked you if there was any room where he could smoke. You didn’t even bother to look at him while answering him – too fixated with your studies to pay attention to him.

Knowing that he had to get you to look at him through more direct actions, Felix impulsively put his hand on your thigh before asking you if you wanted to join him. He even joked, saying that you didn’t only have to get high.

But seeing the terror in your eyes threw him off. He quickly wanted to tell you that he was only joking. If you knew that he wasn’t being serious, maybe you would ease up around him. But before he could apologize, you frantically stood from your seat to gather your books in your bag before running out of the room.

Felix groaned into his hands as he recalled how fast you ran out of the room and away from him.

“Felix, you’re a fucking idiot,” he softly insulted himself.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Why did he think that someone as studious as you would ever consider getting high with some bloke in the bathroom of an academic building?

Every step he tried to take forward with you felt like he was going ten steps back. He needed to find a way to get on your good side.

Maybe Ollie could – no, that was a dead end. Fuck, he needed a drink.

Lying on his bed, Oliver stared at the ceiling of his room. Annabel had just left with the bottle of vodka they had been drinking out of for the past half hour. He wanted to cry.

Why was everything going wrong?

But he knew the reason. It was you.

He was so naïve to think you wouldn’t be an obstacle. You had practically ruined everything from the beginning. It wasn’t just when you refused to help him the other day but also that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms.

While Felix was ordering him a drink, Oliver sat bewildered at the sequence of events that had transpired in the past five minutes. First, Felix invited him over to sit with him and his friends. And when things had been so well, you interrupted his excellent time by asking where Michael was. When you realize he has left your friend alone, you ask for Farleigh Start’s drink before throwing it in his face. You then called him a “cunt-rag” before storming off like a goddamn child.

Luckily, Felix hadn’t listened to you speak. But that was only because he stared at you – stared at you like he was born to worship you. Even worse, Felix asked him if he could introduce the two of you at some point. The way Felix’s eyes widened in glee when Oliver agreed enraged him – even more than when you insulted and almost humiliated him in front of Felix.

Staring at his back, Oliver figured Felix’s attention on you wasn’t something to worry about. He was only interested in you because you were pretty. As much as you infuriated him, Oliver admitted that you had a rare and genuine beauty to you. He didn’t know whether it was your indifference for Oxford’s gods and kings or your dedication to keeping in touch with your American roots – but it was enough to enrapture Felix Catton temporarily.

No, Oliver Quick had no reason to worry. He would be enough for Felix. And then you would be an afterthought, and he’d be Felix Catton’s everything.

Oliver had to find a way to ensure you wouldn't be a problem anymore. You'd comply - there would come a time when you won't have a choice.

Let me know if you want me to write the full scene of Reader throwing the drink at Oliver!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes

Please comment and/or reblog your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

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lord-starman-wotton · 2 months ago

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my (incredibly messy) list of completed wolfstar fic recs (all on ao3, list to be continued!)

fair warning— i’ve had this list for a long time and i usually just used it for my close friends, so not all of these have descriptions/the author’s names. theres random links, random anecdotes, etc. anyways enjoy!!!

Blackpool Rock by lord_starman_wotton (i had to start out with the self-promo lolll)

presque vu by bizarrestars. i almost hesitate to add this because it’s legitimately devastating. do not read the last two chapters unless it’s the middle of the night and no one will hear your sobbing

text talk

the cadence of part time poets by motswolo (fair warning this is twice the length of war and peace i kid you not)

everlasting love finds a way (one shot)

a brief history of dragons

like real people do (READ IT ANFBSJDJD)

blossoms burn and fume, where our flowers bloom (MY FAV WOLFSTAR FIC LITERALLY EVER)

shorn and scarred and yours

the lab (adorable but there’s a six year age gap which makes me kind of uncomfortable?)

the adventures of captain sirius black and his most excellent dragon padfoot (pirate dragons)

tu es la lune (dead poets society au)

the blood moon sinks (not perfect writing but very cute)

the spy who loved him (adorable, by the same author as the pirate dragons)

the oldest recipe for parsnip soup

ullswater (they go to a music college)

that old black magic

for here you are, standing there, loving me (whether or not you should) (sirius adopts every single order child, sound of music au)

the hut of the mistold (fairytale au)

stealing harry

bindings, bindings (jily and regulus come back from the dead and break sirius out of azkaban)

a cure for nightmares

with great power comes great responsibility (spider man)

across the hall (another cute text fic)

james potter, remus lupin, sirius black, peter pettigrew, and (pause for the breath) the prisoner of azkaban

suite nothings: wolfstar edition (they’re college roommates)

wading in waist-high water (great british bake off)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/33021643 (prince of england/first son fic)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/20287849 (another text fic. v cute)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36291976 (THE SECOND BEST FIC IVE EVER READ READ IT ASAPPPP)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47948368 (fake dating, remus and sirius are both single parents)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34659874 (sirius is a ghost haunting rems flat. it’s SO cute)

ten reasons (to go to michigan)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44271820 (figure skating fic. just read it, trust)

dear your holiness

lessen my load

you’re my kaleidoscope

happy birthday, you.

when it’s warm again

to all a good night (HOLY SHIT THIS ONES GOT SUCH GOOD SLOW BURN)

the player’s secret

take me as i am (sleep demon sirius. you’re in for a wild ride)

r.j.l reads a self help book

rourke

atyd sirius’s perspective

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34146250

second generation by msalexwp

a bird at your door by moongnome

where there is smoke by moongnome

everything under the sun by moongnome

tis the damn season by moonymoment

labyrinth by moonymoment

starlit left, moonlit right

show me everything i’ve missed

do you believe in fate?

the road not taken

godlight by badhairred

string the sinner by his wings by ludo_ten

of memories and milk thievery by moonymoment (this made me cry i love it)

Archive of Our Ownhttps://archiveofourown.orgAs the Moon Knows the Stars - Chapter 1 - mcdynamite - Harry Potter

Be my time-bomb lover by flora_tyronelle

We'll Make It Out Alive by orphan_account

the boy from beauxbaxtons by haey1

Teeth. - amour_anguis, regularis_vas - Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies) [Archive of Our Own] (jurassic world au. the literary equivalent of pressing on a bruise. it’s so so so so good)

i’ll be home for christmas by msalexwp

dear mr black by msalexwp

#dead gay wizards #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #remus loves sirius #sirius loves remus #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic recs

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currentfandomkick · 11 months ago

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Back-ish.

Took a bit to finish this as Work Hell and exhaustion (and editing for format ReasonsTM)

Enjoy, and let me know if there’s anything in particular you want explored next, and i’ll see if i can add it to the list for the drabbles (the characters hijack everything so no guarantees)

Masterpost Here

Contrary to popular belief, Skulker is good at his job.

He knows how to craft a perfect trap, how to hunt virtually every type of ghost, and has succeeded every time with enough persistence. The halfa was proving an excellent challenge and reminder that hunting took time and planning.

The issue was he also knew his prey was being hunted by another, and this one’s motives were unknown. This ectopus made it clear that it intends to drown the whelp in either form, and that. That annoyed Skulker.

He followed the rules of hunting. Do not go after pregnant entities, or those capable of during their respective spawning season(s). Only hunt what is permitted. Always release your prey if they are endangered, but you may take something to commemorate the event.

Skulker’s choice was the halfa’s first pelt. He’d grow a new one in a year or so, and it would give the halfa time to acclimate to the zone rather than guarding the portal and the whole of Amity so viciously.

But this Ectopus ignored the rules of engaging with the halfa—only treat Phantom and Fenton as the same person when the “ghost hunting”parents were not around. No need to put the child at risk long term.

Halfas were extinct in the realms far longer than most were certain of, a few reigns before Pariah at least. And Skulker was well aware most of the ghosts and Neverborn he interacted with were born well into the Age of Anarchy as Ghost Writer and the record keepers were so fond of calling it.

And it was only after Pariah’s ‘sleep’ began that the liminal population declined on the Living’s side. Apparently species like Sampson’s took quite the hit, most no longer existing. Sampson was one of two Purpler Back Gorillas alive.

Understandably, the liminal gorilla was frustrated. Non-liminals failed to comprehend ghost speak, their culture was almost dead due lack of population and they were treated more like a lab rat than a person.

That was before encountering the first liminal—admittedly halfas pushed the limits of liminality—she’d found existed besides herself. The whelp’s understanding of the language was basic, but he hasn’t had his first shedding yet nor did he seem to interact with other liminals often either.

Skulker was not idiotic enough to ignore the Whelp’s need for his ghost parent’s protection. It was the issue of getting Sampson around Amity to protect the whelp from this “Taco” ectopus that was an issue.

He made sure to bring a fruit basket from the Realms, and included a shedding from a birdlike entity.

Sampson snarled until he left the offering.

“I have news about your son. He is ill,” Skulker began.

Sampson growled ill???Howexplain

“Likely the overhunting from Taco the Ectopus, as the whelp calls them, but there may be other causes. He’s rather old now to not have undergone his first shedding—don’t look at me like that we both know he is—and is experiencing soul form regression. there are those in the Realms who can help.”

Sampson beat her chest. yesHelphow?

“We need to bring him to Realm’s doctors. He may need to reside in his haunt, or require treatment of a number of things. I am not certain, but this Taco may require independent capture and containment. The doctors will know better,” Skulker admitted.

goNOW

“… yes we can go once we have the whelp—does his core have a particular sensation attached to it?”

ColdbigHugemoving

“I’ll let the doctors know when we arrive. Do you want to bring him in his small form, or one of his usual two?”

smallEasycarry

“He should be headed to the aquarium tonight, shall I set up the blob ghost perimeter?” It was the easiest way to monitor one’s prey and lire away competition… and confirm whether or not this “Taco” is targeting the whelp personally or as an ecto source.

He’s hoping the latter, but has a sinking feeling it will be the former. And he will have to hide the stupid finned brat in his prosthetic…

He should see if his girlfriend or her friends don’t mind helping him distract the intruder from the whelp.

Johnny and Kitty are rather fond of their ex. And Ember is insistent on setting up more playdates between her frightmate Youngblood and the whelp. Something about them being ‘same font different hat’ that he didn’t quite get. Oh well, if it didn’t involve animals, weapons, tactics or hunting he rarely gave it much thought in life, let alone his afterlife.

With Sampson’s (terrifying) blessing, Skulker got to work.

Masterpost Here

Tags: @skulld3mort-1fan @theizzyof3malec3 @brattysleepyreader @sebas-nights @elidaweirdotaku0520 @bianca-hooks123 @the-autistic-spider @laurcad123 @just-lurking-here-dont-mind-meh @atinygracie @stars-obsession-pit @wanderwithwings @aibhilin-atibeka

#topo is a menace #dpxdc #long post #danny phantom #skulker #mer!danny #mer!au #reincarnated danny

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ssr-archives · 5 months ago

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We Know Her Value

Celebrating Ten Years of Agent Carter

In January 2015, Peggy Carter did something no other female Marvel characters have done at the time: headlining her own show. She strutted onto our screens, knocked out some bad guys with a stapler, and told us to call her “agent”.

In the years since, Peggy, her friends, and the fandom have gone through a lot. We’ve seen the show get cancelled, and Peggy returning, Jarvis returning, Daniel Sousa returning. We tried to #SaveAgentCarter, we held fic exchanges, we cosplayed and Disneybounded, and we created zines. Despite the show’s premature end, these characters stayed in our hearts, and we made sure no one could forget them.

Agent Carter will turn 10 in January 2025. To mark this milestone, I am super excited to collaborate with @peggynet to launch We Know Her Value: Celebrating Ten Years of Agent Carter. Starting from 6th January 2025, the anniversary of the show’s premiere, we will be hosting ten themed days to celebrate ten years of our favourite show. You can join by picking a theme, making a post on that theme, and post it on the theme day. Tag me (@ssrarchives) or @peggynet, and add the tag #AgentCarterTurns10. Your works can be as simple or as elaborate as you like!

I can’t wait to celebrate this momentous anniversary with all of you! Under ‘Read More’, you will find the themes for the ten different days. Hope to see you all then! And if you have any questions, just drop me a line in the ask box or the DMs.

Day 1: Favourite Character

The show has presented us with a whole host of amazing characters, from Peggy to lab rats and background agents. So…who is your favourite?

Day 2: Favourite Episode

Agent Carter packed a lot into 18 episodes: fights, spy shenanigans, musical numbers, engagements, kisses. Which episode is your favourite?

Day 3: Favourite Ship

We cannot talk about Agent Carter without talking about the ships, especially not when the cast happily fanned our fandom flames. Whether you are headcanoning any two or three to be passionately involved, or you have the one true friendship that does it for you, what is your favourite relationship on the show?

Day 4: Favourite Scene/Arc

From Peggy threatening a fellow diner with a fork, to Daniel flopping his five-episode relationship, Agent Carter packed many interesting scenes and arcs into the overall spy shenanigans. Do any of these scenes or arcs stand out to you?

Day 5: Favourite Cast/Crew Moment

Time to look behind the scenes! Once the episodes were over, the cast and crew kept the party going, from the Stark Jar to on-set pranks to the legendary Dubsmash War. Do you have a favourite cast/crew moment?

Day 6: Into the Multiverse

Even though the show was cancelled in 2016, that was not the last we saw of Peggy and her team. Peggy herself returned over and over again, eventually becoming one of the few mortals privy to the knowledge of Loki and the Sacred Timeline tree. Jarvis returned in Avengers: Endgame, becoming the first Marvel character to debut on TV and move on to a movie appearance. Even Daniel made a return in Agents of SHIELD Season 7. Which of these cameos were your favourite? Who do you want to see in future MCU projects?

Day 7: Containment Breach

There is a life for everyone outside of murder gases and space goop. Since the end of Agent Carter, the cast and crew continue to entertain us with excellent projects. From Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning to Resident Alien to The Merry Gentlemen, we have definitely not seen the last of our favourite agents. Have you watched any of these? Do you have a favourite? Do they inspire any AUs?

Day 8: Favourite Fanfic

What is Agent Carter without its fandom? From SSR Confidential to Agent Carter Zine, from fandom-defining multi-chapter behemoths to short and sweet ficlets, the fic writers have not been resting at all. This is your chance to shout out your favourite fics!

Day 9: Favourite Fanart

Artists we haven’t forgotten you! The Agent Carter fandom is home to many talented artists who have graced our dashboards with everything from sketches to whole comics. Let’s share our appreciation by naming our favourite fanart/artist! (Please do not repost artwork unless you have consent from the artists. Otherwise, please reblog or link to the original artwork. Let’s make sure that the artists get the notes and credits they deserve.)

Day 10: Free Day

There is way more going on in the Agent Carter show and fandom for us to cover in one week, so like the title says, take this day to highlight whatever you want! The show’s costume and makeup? Meta writers? Peggy cosplays and Disneybounds? As long as it is Agent Carter-related, you can post about it!

#agent carter #AgentCarterTurns10 #marvel's agent carter #mcu #peggy carter #mod speaks #agent carter renaissance

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exceltricks · 2 years ago

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Python-Funktionen in Excel: Einfache Möglichkeiten zur Wortzählung

Auf dem YouTube-Kanal von Mr. Excel Bill Jelen wurde ein interessantes Video zu dem Thema Python-Funktionen in Excel veröffentlicht. Es geht in dem Video um die Anwendung einer benutzerdefinierten Python-Funktion zur Wortzählung. Vielleicht haben Sie sich auch schon gefragt, wie oft ein bestimmtes Wort in einem langen Text vorkommt. Diese Frage wird in dem Video sowohl in Excel als auch in Python…

View On WordPress

#Dataframe #ERSETZEN()#Excel Labs-Add-In #Funktion #LÄNGE()#Python

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nobody-viii · 9 months ago

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The Turks - Context Clues (The Kids Are Alright)

@accala posted an excellent inquisitive post about the Turks here and their motivations and to add some The Kids Are Alright: A Turks Side Story book context, imma leave this here. Couldn't find the quote I was looking for, but here's some things I found interesting. NOTE: I feel like Advent Children did the Turks a little dirty, but I really loved the banter as a kid. This book has some of the same campy shortcomings, but take it or leave it, here's what I found.

1.) The Healen Lodge from Advent Children was an R&R facility for Shinra, universally accepted as the worst one by employees. The Turks/Rufus chose it for its tactical advantages, but it also shows how far back on their heels they were. "The Shinra empire had ruled most of the world up until two short years ago, and it didn't sit right with Elena that the company president had to live in such a desolate place. Yes, medical treatment was available, security was way better away from the city, and the commute was only two hours by car; the staff could have had it much worse." - pg. 14

2.) The abandoned rec hall was being used by Shinra as a lab to convert SOLDIER stimulants into geostigma treatments. The project was Elena's idea, with the resulting medication being donated free of charge to city medical professionals and the WRO. (pp. 16-17)

3.) Reno & Rude were sent into the city to retrieve a stolen item from a teenager (read the book for details I'm too lazy to go into it), and when he started crying and shaking, Reno and Rude switched to a new script. "Aw, look. The kid's really scared." The redhead sounded sympathetic now. "That's what we came to do," the bald one pointed out. And: "Now, we put on our best tough-guys acts on the way over, so we can't just leave without roughing anyone up," said the redhead. "Our job is to teach a lesson to anyone who tries to mess with us." I was still scrambling for an explanation to give them. "Y-you mean, kill me?" was what came out instead. My voice even cracked for good measure. "That's one way to teach a lesson. But we're trying to strike a balance for Shinra, here. We want everyone to love us and maybe be a little bit scared. Killing you would have the opposite effect." (pg. 23) Reno opted to punch the kid in the face, then tell him to keep his chin up, so...balance? Sure. Shinra is, at this point, technically trying to figure out their PR while simultaneously leaning on old habits. Also, the kid calls Reno and Rude a knife and a fork and I thought that was funny.

4.) Reno is described as someone who looked like he 'turned delinquent as a teenager and never grew out of it, like those kids in the Sector Eight warehouses who I still hated and admired in equal measure.' (pg. 23)

5.) Elena roughs up one of the protagonists, but reins herself in when context is presented: She'd paid a visit intending to break Fabio's dominant arm, but when she saw him fight back to protect the child, she changed her plan. Her objective was to punish a thief, not deprive a child with geostigma of his only guardian. (pg. 47)

6.) Reno calls a doctor for the guy he roughed up. Kyrie nodded. "I figured, these guys must have phones, so I asked them to call Dr. Drake. 'Evan's in a bad way 'cause you guys beat him up,' I told them. And guess what? They said they don't know any Evan. So I lost it and said, 'Yeah, 'cause Evan's the one you whaled on when you mixed him up with Fabio. You owe him..... So then the redhead--his name's Reno--he called a doctor. Not Dr. Drake, he said, but a good one..." (pg. 55)

7.) Evan (the protagonist) is trying to work out who would be the easiest Turk to try to forge an alliance with and we get a glimpse of how the Turks are perceived by outsiders (Tseng is an unknown entity to Evan at this time): The most dangerous one was probably the lady Turk who went after Fabio. A close second would be the slab of muscle out there, Rude. Maybe the redhead Reno was more on our level. I thought back to my first impression of him--the grown-up teenage delinquent. Guys like that generally looked out for their own. A sense of solidarity. There had to be an angle I could work. (pg. 57)

8.) There's a whole scene where Evan and Kyrie try to ambush Rude. They choke him, break a chair over him, kick, scratch, the whole shebang and he just brushes himself off and manhandles them to a car (which made me laugh).

9.) Reno and Rude take the protagonists towards Healen in a truck and there's a few moments I found interesting. "So anyway..." Reno was looking at me in the rearview mirror. "Sorry about the shiner, dude. We totally did think you were Fabio. But y'know, I'm impressed you stayed mum and protected your buddy," Reno went on. "Even if you were about to piss your pants." (lol) Then, "Some of us have been slower to to adapt to the new way of doing things," Reno continued. "How many Turks are left?" asked Kyrie. "Can't tell you. That's Shinra's most closely guarded secret." "It's just you three, isn't it?" "Not telling." "But I'm right." "Yeah, you keep thinking that." (pg.63) Rude sleeps through the majority of the ride despite Reno trying to keep him awake. They talk quite a bit about Aerith, because Kyrie and Reno both knew her. Reno warns them not to get mixed up with Shinra's science department.

10.) Evan gets introduced to Rufus for the first time after believing the former president has been dead for two years and Tseng finally exists in this book for two seconds. "He's alive...?" Evan was still speaking to Reno. "I am. The decoy who took my place is not," Rufus replied. "You're a candidate for the position--and from what I can see, you'll do." Evan's jaw dropped, and he stared agape at Reno, then Rufus, then Tseng. Tseng looked down at the ground, trying to hide his laughter. Evan's description of Tseng: He looked like a Turk, too. The very definition of one, in fact. Reno and Rude both showed an awkward humanity--well, sporadically in the latter's case--but this guy was pure ice.

11.) An ill-conceived escape attempt by Evan and crew sees Rufus temporarily kidnapped, as Tseng and Elena are investigating an explosion. Reno and Rude try to stop it, but are ordered back. "Reno, stay back!" Reno obediently halted. I had expected to see fury in his eyes, but all I say was sorrow. Surprisingly, I felt a pang in my chest, too. But there was no other way. I pulled Kyrie's knife from my pocket and opened it--a sad, flimsy little blade, but it could still slice open a throat. "Hey, don't be stupid." I ignored Reno and held the knife to Rufus Shinra's neck. Then, "Reno, take Rude and check on the lab." Suddenly Rufus was giving orders. "Tell Tseng not to get involved here." "Wait, what? Boss, are you sure?!" "Don't worry. I'm as interested in staying alive as you are." Reno reluctantly descended the stairs, glancing over his shoulder almost every step. (pg. 77)

12.) Reno and Rude talk about family and have a lil tiff. "If I found out about a brother I'd never seen, I'd make way more of an effort than those two," Reno insisted. "That right?" Rude said. My colleagues are all I need. "You're not much into family, eh, Rude?" "I'm a Turk," Rude said flatly. "Coolheaded and cold-blooded." He turned and headed for the truck. "Hey, Rude. You pissed at me?" Reno called, an unabashed whine. "C'mon, man. You can't cold-zone me now. Tseng and Elena aren't answering my calls, and the boss just tells me to finish the monument. I know they're starting something awesome without us. We're outcasts! Me and you, you and me. If we don't stick together, then what?" Rude looked back. "Tseng isn't answering calls?" (pg. 94) Reno goes off several times throughout this book about how he'd act if he got the chance to meet family, which makes me wonder about him. "So how'd it feel, meeting your brother?" "I don't think it's sunk in yet." "Well, it's a process, I guess," said Reno. "But you gotta visit once in a while, you know? Then you'll get to figure each other out. Break the ice." (pg. 97)

13.) Reno and Rude are actually partially responsible for the monument in the city. This lil bit kinda gives weight to how long they've been in Shinra. Evan was one of those types who wasn't quite grounded in reality but was full of bravado. A show-off. A scared kid determined to buck people's expectations by pretending he had no fear. And if he kept it up, he was gonna do something stupid enough to get himself killed. Both Reno and Rude had known too many kids like that, from rookie Turks to infantrymen to SOLDIER operatives wet behind the ears from mako infusion tanks.

14.) Reno & Rude get amused by Kyrie treating them like they're not scary. The concern over redemption makes an appearance. "Now what?" Rude stepped closer from his vantage point. Apparently, he'd been watching the whole time. He was pretending he didn't care, but inwardly, Reno was convinced, Rude was intrigued by every act of the farce. Which only made the whole thing funnier. "She said she's hungry," said Reno. "So she's gonna grab something to eat." "It's like she's never heard of the Turks. It's almost refreshing," Rude remarked. So this is what happens when Shinra wins hearts and minds. Reno chuckled again but then remembered that the girl was still afraid of them. He'd seen the goosebumps on her arms. Her toothless threats were her way of gauging the danger he and Rude presented. Evan might trust them, but not Kyrie. Despite what Rude said, she knew what they were and what they were capable of. "You know," said Rude. "She reminds me of Aerith." "Yeah, I was thinkin' that too." Maybe helping them out will redeem us, at least a little bit, he thought. A guy can hope. (pg. 106)

15.) Shinra's resources are thin...and that chopper that ate it in AC was one of the last ones left (cue gross sobbing because in the words of a certain Puppy, Shinra makes good stuff). No one knew exactly how many helicopters the Shinra Company used to have. Within a half a year of Meteorfall, many of them had been looted. Accidents, mechanicals, and other circumstances had taken out others, and now Rufus Shinra and the Turks were left with only three. But even with so few, it was a constant battle to keep them in working order. Also, Rude has mechanical experience and is the one on repairs.

16.) A civilian points out the flaws in Reno's hopes for the future of the Turks. "Well, to be honest, maybe my opinion of you guys is changin'." Doyle looked at Reno again with a level stare. "You're up to better things." Reno couldn't help averting his eyes. Unless it came from a fellow Turk, approval tended to make him uncomfortable. "The monument and the medicine are only one step, you know. Just wait. It might take a while, but Shinra's gonna get off the ground again. Rise again, you hear?" That general idea had been floating around in his head for some time. This was the first time he'd said it aloud. "How?" Doyle scowled, his thick eyebrows lowering. Reno cursed himself for the thoughtless comment. "Can't tell you." "Yeah, I figured. But no one is going to let a violent regime lord it over them again. Not anymore. You tell your president that."

17.) Tseng and Elena bring up the notion of inviting old Turks back into the fold. "For any one person, finding it (Jenova's head) may well seem like a futile task. But there is still a nonzero chance. Either way, staying in contact with our agents and meeting regularly are essential to maintaining organizational cohesion." " But how many...?" Elena glanced around and spoke in a stage whisper. "How many former Turks can we expect to help us?" In his mind, Tseng saw the faces of the old Turks, his former subordinates. Of those, he had made contact with-- They get interrupted and Elena rushes off to investigate something. Tseng watched his operative go with a wry smile. Below the hem of her sundress, old scars marked her legs. Once you joined the Turks, you were in for life. Even those who tried to get out and build new lives could be summoned back with a single phone call. Maybe it was a cruel call to make, Tseng thought. and he sighed.

18.) Reno & Rude defy a direct order from Tseng. "Dumbass," Reno muttered. "What are you waiting for? Engage!" Tseng's command rang from the speakers. "Evan's down there," Rude answered in Reno's stead. "He's already done for," said Tseng. "Fire." "No can do," said Reno. "Reno." Tseng made his name a sharp rebuke. "He's our friend." "Fine. Let me briefly explain--" Tseng's voice abruptly cut out. "Radio trouble," Rude mumbled, his hand drifting away from the radio's master switch.

There are a lot of quirky, funny, violent, or neato moments I didn't list, so check out the book if you want more insight. Hope this gave you some headcanon fodder.

#the turks #turks ff #reno #rude #elena #tseng #reno of the turks #rude of the turks #elena of the turks #tseng of the turks #reno ff7 #rude ff7 #elena ff7 #tseng ff7

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mebis-reblogs · 3 months ago

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You've done excellent analyses of the mechanics of the Farm Arrays crop harvesters and the iterator labs, and I've wanted to ask. How do you think the void fluid drill silos functioned? Because I have no clue what all these bits&bobs could be for.

Here's the filtration system drill for reference (in an easier to see palette)

Here's also the region art for reference

I think this part is the engine, the part that powers up the drill's spin

And it could also be an automatic assembly point, more on that in a moment

Now, the screw-like shaft, which I thought was a different kind of drill at some point, could have that shape in order to transmit momentum

Now, as for where is all that shaft retracted to, it could be a telescopic mechanism

Or it could be soft when stored in the pipe behind the engine then harden in exposure to air, like noodlefly stingers

Or it could be assembled from base materials on the engine itself, meaning the engine could be a purposed organism creating the shaft like snail creates its shell (but likely faster)

Iterators likely do this at a large scale in the memory conflux assembly, and their components were likely made this way

... although, this assembly theory would only explain the great length and segmented look, and would not be particularly compatible with retracted drills like the one in filtration system, which would still require something like the first two theories. Maybe a combination of these is what's happening

The corncob-like looking tip is definitely the actual drill

Now, I don't know why this one has two engines

Maybe it split in half, maybe an extra one was added because it needed an extra boost (even though this one is shallower than the others)

Maybe the engine or part of it also goes down to install the walls of the holes as it goes deeper

Void fluid seems to have been collected through these holes into the corresponding pipes to be filtered and moved around, rather than absorbed directly through the drill

If I knew how exactly drilling for oil works I'd probably be able to say more here

Maybe I'll add more in a reblog after I inform myself with that

#rain world spoilers #rw spoilers #rw lore #rain world lore #rain world #rw

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agaypanic · 1 year ago

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Lab Rats Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Request Something!

If you’d like to be notified about future works, send me an ask/DM saying what characters/fandoms you want to be notified for and I’ll add you to a tag list!

Any feedback (likes, reblogs, comments) is greatly appreciated :)

PLAYLIST

ONE SHOTS

His Little Songbird (Singer!Reader)

🤓Chase is the first person you go to for thoughts on something new you’ve written. He’ll do anything to keep hearing your voice. ~700 words

I Like Nerds (Cheerleader!Reader)

🤓Tired of history repeating itself, Chase doesn’t even bother trying to get to know you when Adam starts bringing you around. But when you ask him to help you out with an upcoming test, he realizes that you might not be so bad. ~2.4k words

Swear Not By The Moon

🤓Being a man with bionic super smarts, Chase excelled at everything and was always ahead of everyone. When he first started going to Mission Creek High, he unknowingly became rivals with you, the smartest girl in school. When you have to work together on a project, you realize that Chase Davenport might not be so bad. ~2.8k words

Smart's Considered Superior

🤓Chase decides to invite one of his online friends to the island. Everyone’s shocked to find that this person actually exists, and even more so when it’s a girl. Chase’s brothers try to impress her with their bionics, but she’s too focused on Chase’s intelligence to even spare a glance. ~1k words

Every Night (Spider-Man!Chase)

🤓Chase Davenport is a Mission Creek High student who takes pictures by day, and a bionic web-slinging superhero who fights crime by night. Tonight, he swings by your place with a split lip, a bruised rib, and a wounded ego. ~700 words

The President's Daughter

🤓The Lab Rats have a new mission: keep the president’s daughter safe until the people threatening her life have been taken care of. But Chase’s job gets a bit more difficult when you keep trying to flirt with him. ~1k words

HEADCANONS

Principal Perry's Niece

🤓Chase Davenport with Principal Perry's Niece headcanons ~800 words

Best Friends Headcanons

🤓Being best friends with Chase Davenport headcanons ~1k words

Baddie Headcanons

🤓Chase Davenport dating a baddie headcanons ~700 words

Theater Kid Headcanons

🤓Chase Davenport with a theater kid headcanons ~700 words

NSFW Alphabet

🤓Chase Davenport NSFW Alphabet ~1.8k words

ONE SHOTS

I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend

🏃‍♀️Everyone knows that Bree has a crush on Chase’s best friend, except for his best friend. ~1k words

HEADCANONS

Best Friends Headcanons

🏃‍♀️Being best friends with Bree Davenport headcanons ~1k words

HEADCANONS

Best Friends Headcanons

🏋️Being best friends with Adam Davenport headcanons ~1k words

Crush Headcanons (GN!Reader)

🏋️Adam Davenport crushing on you headcanons ~700 words

HEADCANONS

Best Friends Headcanons

🦾Being best friends with Leo Dooley headcanons ~1k words

#agaypanic #agaypanic masterlist #lab rats #lab rats x reader #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport #bree davenport #bree davenport x reader #adam davenport #adam davenport x reader #leo dooley x reader #leo dooley

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infiniteeight8 · 1 month ago

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I am SO excited about the enemies-to-lovers you've got going on! I'd love to see some more of that!

I am glad you asked for this one, because I have an arc all planned out now. 😀 There are at least four more ficlets to tie it up, but I suspect five or six would be better.

The rest of the series is here.

Given that he’s the leader of the wizards and undoubtedly has other responsibilities, Strange spends what Tony suspects is an unreasonable amount of time with him in the new lab the Sanctum has created. He’s not sure if he should be happy about that, because he’s taking Strange away from work that might oppose the Avengers, or concerned, because Strange leads a whole order of sorcerers and his interest in keeping Tony around won’t necessarily hold up against all of them if they get annoyed about it. Mostly, Tony tries not to think about it.

He’s not thinking about a lot of things.

And of course the best way to not think about anything is to get very distracted thinking about something else. Trying to design instruments to detect a type of energy that science has never recorded before works beautifully. Well, it works as long as he’s got Strange there, casting spells for Tony to test his experimental designs on. When Strange is called away his mystical duties, all Tony has to go off of is theory.

He’s spinning himself slowly on a stool and contemplating his observations of Strange’s magic when someone knocks on the lab door. It’s not Strange, he’d just left. “Come in,” Tony calls out warily.

The door opens to reveal a woman, mid-thirties, dark hair and eyes. She’s holding a small wooden box. “My name is Master Sangita Rayamajhi. Doctor Strange said I could work with you if you agreed.”

Tony’s eyebrows fly up. He’d thought Strange wanted to keep Tony to himself. Or maybe the other sorcerers were avoiding him; Tony has hardly seen any of them despite living in the Sanctum. “Work on what?”

“Re-creating relics,” Sangita says. “No living member of the Order has created a relic. The knowledge has been lost. I have been working for a decade to rediscover it. Doctor Strange says that you’re trying to understand our magic. Our work seems complementary.”

“You’re not afraid of what I could learn and take back to the Avengers?” Tony asks.

“If we can re-create even a single relic, it would be worth any amount of information you took to them,” Sangita says firmly.

Tony nods, but doesn’t wave her inside yet. “I thought maybe the other wizards didn’t approve of Strange’s interest in me.” Sangita says nothing, and eventually Tony adds, “Will your colleagues be upset that you’re working with me?”

She relaxes slightly. “Not at all. Most people are very pleased that you’re here. Doctor Strange is much happier. It was frustrating when we thought it was an impossible relationship, but now it doesn’t seem so impossible. We thought that you might not be comfortable talking to us, and we didn’t want to risk driving you away. But you like to work, and this is work.”

Tony finds himself smiling a little, bemused at the thought of the dangerous Masters of the Mystic Arts tip-toeing around lest they upset Strange’s crush. When was the last time the Avengers gave a second thought to whether something would upset him?

“Come on in,” Tony says, waving her towards the stool that Strange uses when they’re working together.

Sangita crosses the space briskly and sets the box down on the table. “These,” she says, opening it, “are sending stones. They transmit voices. I thought a relic that served the same purpose as a known technology would be a logical place to start.”

“It’s an excellent place to start,” Tony says, dismissing his notes and opening a new document. “Demonstrate them for me.”

#IronStrange #ficlet

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samthehyena · 11 months ago

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sam's togachako fic rec masterlist

So the tumblr thread with togachako recs from the other day inspired me to make this post that’s supposed to be a masterlist of my togachako recs. I’m sure I’ve forgotten to add some of the recs I’ve included in my ao3 author’s notes before LMAO. Also, I’m planning to update this list with any new togachako recs I want to add in the future. For now I'm only including completed fics.

1K-5K

A lovely fic with lyrical prose in which Himiko is Medusa and Ochako is her blind GF. It explores Himiko's profound grief over Jin and her relief of finally having human connection be attainable again.

A nice little fic from arguably one of the best femslash writers in that fandom. It checks off all the boxes for everything I could want out of a Togachako fic: a theme of acceptance, exploring what could have been in another life and SO MANY cute moments. Also, the ambiguous ending just feels so right.

A heartfelt bite-sized read that features Himiko and Ochako navigating life together and quirk prejudices in the aftermath of the war. It's so soft with references to spicy moments sprinkled in. (Who doesn't love Togachako and THE BITING?) It's just so sweet to see Himiko trying to grow beyond her past and having Ochako to rely on.

One of my fav Togachako smut one shots. It's so sweet and cute and I want to craddle it in my arms. I love how the story shows Himiko helping Ochako work through self-esteem issues - also, what's not to love about technically self-cest.

The university setting suits Togachako's dynamic really well. I love Himiko's pastel goth aesthetic and Ochako's initial animosity toward her strange lab partner before growing enamored.

I really enjoyed this soulmates AU one-shot since it tied in so well with how much Togachako loves each other despite the odds seemingly being against them. This story really is a testament to how there is no universe in which Ochako could possibly hate Himiko.

A super cute one-shot with a unique matchmaking setup! I was especially fond of the way Ochako’s gay panic was written and Himiko’s dialogue was incredibly fun to read. The parallels drawn between Himiko and Ochako in the fic are super compelling!

This is fluffy togachako established relationship oneshot has some gorgeous poetic prose that makes for an evocative read! It also just was such a soft vibe to it that makes this fic feel like a warm hug every time I read it.

I love this songfic so much!!! It utilizes a vignette style to hit some really poignant notes by giving glimpses it Himiko and Ochako’s past as childhood friends which is later contrasted by their reunion in the present day. The fic packs a punch with some excellent hurt/comfort.

This is some absolutely gut-wrenching hurt/comfort with parallels between togachako and dabihawks. I think it's one of the best togachako fics I've read in a while.

Actor AU togachako? YES PLEASE! The first fic I read in this fandom was an actor AU so I’ve always had a soft spot for this particular niche. Anyways, there’s a lot of cute moments in this and the pining is very strong in the best way possible. Also, the confession scene at the end is totally cute. There’s also some fun nods to krbk and excellent dialogue between Ochako and Katsuki.

I feel like I happen to be the EXACT target audience for this delightful cracky fic. It’s a humorous togachako chatfic (which is my jam) with some cheeky innuendo as well as some excellent and immersive HTML formatting. I also love how this fic provides both Ochako and Himiko’s POV to get the full picture :)

5K-15K

“Pleasing Our Infernal Princess” by intheeveningsunrise | 8.5K | Isekai | Scum Villain Fusion | Useless Lesbians

There is some excellent Ochako introspection and I like how genre-savvy this fic is. Himiko and Ochako’s relationship is also explored in a very fun way as Ochako tries to escape her predestined fate and Himiko manages to see Ochako for who she is at heart. Also, there’s some excellent platonic scenes between Ochako and Bakugo. As someone who hasn’t read scum villain I can vouch that this fic is an excellent read even if you aren’t familiar with SVSSS. In general, I highly recommend giving this a read if you love isekai/transmigration stories and femslash. There is also an incredibly fun twist at the end of this fic :)

An absolutely stellar role reversal fic that stays true to Ochako's and Himiko's characterizations as their lives take a very different trajectory. Ochako's desperation as she tries to fight against the metaphorical shackles tying her down and the pressure the HPSC puts on Himiko makes this story so engaging. This fic was the VERY FIRST togachako fic I ever read and to this day it holds up as one of my all-time favorites!!!!

While I have not read this fic yet (it’s been on my TBR for ages), my main enabler for all things femslash has been singing this fic’s highest praises. According to her, this is an excellent fic to read to get into the togachako ship since it hits many key tropes for the ships (e.g. Ochako’s sapphic internal panic) and strikes the perfect balance between being a meaty enough fic to thoroughly explore the ship while still remaining a one-shot. Also this fic has Greek mythology elements :3

Lowkey this might be one of the best togachako fics I’ve ever read and it still holds up really well with the current togachako landscape despite being written before the togachako manga chapters were dropped. It has an excellent characterization of Himiko and delves into the anxieties of starting over in a poignant way. Also the identity shenanigans and the way guilt festers as Himiko dances around the truth is very compelling. There are also moments of some super cute banter. And this fic is meaty enough to really get a taste of what makes togachako such a fun ship but is short enough to read in one sitting. An excellent first togachako fic to read if you want to get into the ship.

Greater than 15K

This is THE Togachako fic - if you haven't heard of it already, believe me if you mention this fic in a group of togachako enthusiasts, people will start gushing about it immediately. The villain/hero dynamic is so fun in this with a lot of excellent toxic Yuri tension - and OMG Ochako's characterization is great in this (there is this one flashback scene from her childhood that still lives rent-free in my mind XD). And there are so many good interpretations like Ochako's past relationships with Izuku and Tsu that just HIT. Also, the smut is EVERYTHING - I really want to go into details but I'll hold back because it's so much more fun if it's a surprise.

There are a million things I could say about this fic but I will try to keep it brief. This is a Revolutionary Girl Utena and MHA crossover that expertly explores themes of repression, gender, storytelling and what it means to be a hero. Taking advantage of MHA’s large cast, this fic not only does a fantastic job with togachako’s characterization but also does a great job of getting to the core of the side character’s motives and perception of the world. Also, the fic ticks so many quintessential togachako boxes (everything from Himiko being repressed to Ochako’s resilience and unconditional care for Himiko). AND THE FORMATTING OMG!!!!! This fic takes workskin shenanigans to the next level!!! I’m still thinking about the stroke of coding genius in the final chapter. Like y’all would not believe the amount of brainrot this fic induced. Anyways, as someone who has not watched Utena yet I can vouch that this fic reads well regardless of whether you have watched RGU or not :3

Some of my stuff

Here are some togachako fics I’ve worked on that I like best and their descriptions.

Summary: The only reason Ochako signed up for a dating app was because Mina convinced her that making fun of people's profiles would be a fun way to pass the time. But soon enough she finds herself connecting with a girl under the pseudonym "Carmilla". Still, one looming question stops Ochako from labeling Carmilla as more than a friend: Who exactly is she in real life?

Summary: After fighting Himiko and bleeding out, Ochako finds herself reliving the same day of middle school over and over again. And she can’t quite piece together why that one ordinary day is worth repeating at all. Except for Himiko that day is anything but random – after all, it was the day she stabbed her middle school classmate as her mask finally slipped.

Is Himiko’s future really set in stone? Will Ochako be able to break the loop?

Only time will tell.

Summary: Years after the war, Ochako is desperately trying to move on from her grief for Toga with her new situationship. But it's so hard to keep things casual when Ochako's fling reminds her of Himiko in so many ways.

Summary: Ochako's friends are suspicious of her online girlfriend. For all they know Himiko could be a villain, a serial killer or even a vampire.

Author’s Commentary: I guess I would consider this fic something akin to my magnum opus lol. There’s a lot of silliness and subplots with a strong focus on LOV Found Family and Married Dabihawks in addition to the Togachako. A lot happens. Bakugo gets character development, Shouto is convinced Ochako’s girlfriend is a vampire from Twilight, Mineta gets a mini redemption arc and Dabi decides that maybe patricide isn’t for him.

#togachako #himiko toga #ochako uraraka #fic rec #fic recs #i'm sure i can find even more recs in my bookmarks or a togachako server so feel free to reach out to me at any time #i don't bite :3 #i prefer it when togachako does the biting

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