Stolen from @alyssaslahey lol xD
1. My First Ship: Violate (AHS)
I watched American Horror Story even before I even knew what the heck ship was. My first thought, apart from “Wow, this Tate guy is really horrifying” lol, was “their love is so beautiful.” Despite being a monster, he truly cared and loved her with all his heart. His relationship was so pure, regardless of their capricious situation, he never once hurt her, respected her and always was sweet and gentle toward her. They were my first and my always OTP.
Damn, the chemistry was so good that I wish Evan and Taissa actually were together.
2. Current Ship: Guzmuel (Elite)
HAHAHAHA GUY I DON’T EVEN WHAT THE HECK GOT INTO MY HEAD SO DON’T ASK ME xD
But seriously they have been on my mind lately. Watching a whole season where Samuel endlessly suffering from Guzman being a jerk was totally painful, and the way the writers treated their relationship quite horribly, but the fact that after everything had been going on, they still stuck by and chose each other in the end melted my heart. Their chemistry was so good that even better than the actual gay couple on the show (sorry not sorry lmao) and the actors doing questionable gay things didn’t make it better 😂🤣
3. My Ship Since The First Minute: Cherik (X-Men)
It wasn’t easy for me to be hooked from the first sight, but these men... right on the first time they shared the scene, I already thought, they had to be together.
Same with Hannigram - Murder Husbands xD
4. I Wish They Had Been Endgame: Megstiel (SPN)
DEAR WRITERS, YOU HAD ONE JOB!!!
Like everything was right there. Everything was perfect. The chemistry, the ultimate trope enemies to lovers, the love story of an angel and a demon, she loved and cared for him more than anything else, even sacrificed her life for him while she’s supposed to be a fucking demon, he thought she’s beautiful even he’s able to see through her meatsuit, he used “Clarence” - the one she used to call him - as his cover name, The Empty used her imagine to torture him because it knew “who he loved”, etc.
Then you brought back the empty using Meg’s vessel but not ACTUALLY her and just let her stay dead, then had Cas confessed his one-sided feelings to his long-year abuser before dragging him to hell? WHAT THE F*CK MAN!!?
5. I Wish They Had Been Canon: Sterek (Teen Wolf) & Klayley (TO)
I adore Stalia, I really do, but I have been shipping Sterek from the start and wish that the writers actually gave them a chance. Dylan and Tyler had brilliant chemistry, and they had very fun chaotic dynamic in the show. They saved each other repeatedly, cared so much for one another, shared so many meaningful moments and deep connection, to the point that Stiles was actually Derek’s anchor. Seriously we had been queerbaiting till the end but still falling so hard for it :(
Same with Klayley, with the whole married couple things and wasted potential. Even they did have sex one time, but only just for the baby plot then nothing more than “former one night stand” while they could have been so much more than that. They inspired each other to change for the better and the way they looked at each other was too intimate for just “mother/father of our child” and better than their own love interests.
6. Most Of The Fandom Hates, But I Love: Rizzy (Shadowhunters)
When she said she didn’t care about sex but only him when he came out as ace, that’s where they got me. I no longer cared about anything else. Just wish they had last longer.
7. Don’t Watch The Show, But I Ship Them Anyway: Villaneve (Killing Eve)
8. I Wish They Had A Different Storyline: Handon (Legacies)
They are wonderful as separate characters and together, their soft scenes really have my heart. And their chemistry and their kisses are just like... wow, beautiful. But the fact that the writer just gave them codependent dynamic where they couldn’t reach full capabilities of their own, and their relationship were hated by most of the fandom really upset me. Since they broke up now, I hope both Landon and Hope can develop themselves as a character before finding way back to each other. Because I just want them to be endgame.
9. A Background Ship That I Wasn’t Supposed To Ship, But I Do: Golan (TW)
I wasn’t supposed to care at all about them because they’re pretty toxic, but it was true that they once cared deeply for each other (enough to shot up a house then murder people for the other lol) and I liked the “us against the world” “go gay do crime” kind of dynamic, so yeah xD
10. My NOTP: Destiel (SPN)
THANK A LOT JENSEN!
I swear there’re no other ships in the world make me despise than this pairing. Forced fanservice, no chemistry, ABUSIVE AF, even Jensen Ackles himself hated it. Dean had been horrible to Cas for most of their time and for YEARS, took advantage of him, used him, tossed him aside when he’s no longer needed, abused him both physically and emotionally, blamed Cas for everything went wrong in his life, tortured Cas’s son to the point this kid was suicidal and so on, there’s so much things wrong with this relationship that I couldn’t ever count (but if you really want to know then go to this post pls: https://ryoryeonggu.tumblr.com/post/189698174685/as-heartbreaking-as-castiels-departure-was-last). But the worst part is that the ship justified Dean’s shitty behaviors and neglected Cas’s pain just for that delusional “love” which was clearly one-sided and not even close to a normal brotherhood. So NO! I will kindly send my “fuck-off” blessings to that ship till the day I die.
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The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1
This is my first time publishing any of my reader insert work so don’t be too hard on me. Y/N is a psych student that needs a favor and asks her therapist for help. Lmk if you want to see more.
It was an unmistakable conflict of interest, your relationship with Hannibal. He was your therapist, your mentor, your partner, and many years your senior to boot. You recognized this monumental power imbalance. You put on a façade of embarrassment for the people who expected it; people whose proclivities were done in the shadows and therefore easier to get away with. Why should you be expected to rationalize your loving, mutually beneficial relationship to a person who regularly cheats on her boyfriend?
You'd dated men your own age before, and without fail, you always found yourself waiting for them to grow up. Hannibal made you feel comfortable. Both emotionally and physically. You had a side of his bed and a spot in his arms to fall asleep in every night. Given the choice, you could truthfully say you'd never want to leave his arms.
Like many unlikely relationships, it didn’t start out in the most romantic of ways. Clutching your laptop under your raincoat, you hesitated knocking. Your therapist had, of course, seen you at your lowest points and was sworn to secrecy, but this was a low you didn’t want even him to see. Standing outside of his home, in the so-incredibly-not-business-hours dead of night with mascara running down your face.
You finally worked up the nerve to knock, telling yourself that he was probably asleep and wouldn’t hear you. This rationalization fell apart when the interior light turned on and the door unlocked. Although you’d been seeing Dr. Lecter for quite a while, his presence never failed to intimidate you. Now it was even worse. His severe expression was fixated on you as he silently awaited an explanation.
“Dr. Lecter...” You lowered your head and fumbled with your computer. You made a point to kiss your last shreds of dignity goodbye before you opened your mouth again. “...could I please borrow a book?”
Dr. Lecter narrowed his eyes. “I take it by the hour, this is an urgent matter, Miss [L/N]?”
“My midterm. It’s due in...” You glanced at your watch. “Eight hours.”
“Well you don’t have a moment to waste, now do you?” Dr. Lecter said, a slight upturn in his voice connoting amusement. “Come in. Let’s find you that book.”
You felt your muscles relax as he stepped aside to let you in. The house was spacious. Much too large for one person. That was really the only thing you could bring yourself to notice before he shut the door behind you.
“Now what is this all-important book of yours called?” He asked, pulling your raincoat from your shoulders like he always did.
“It’s called Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism.” You explained, tucking your computer under your arm. “By Robert Jay Lifton.”
“You’re in luck, Miss [L/N].” His thin lips turned up into a smile. “I have a copy from my own years as a student.”
You breathed an audible sigh of relief. You tensed your muscles and held in your excitement at the prospect of something finally going according to plan, even if that plan was your third or fourth backup.
You followed him into his office, which reminded you more of Belle’s library than any workspace you’d ever encountered. He must have had thousands of books in this room alone.
“It’s a fascinating read, but not one you could finish in eight hours.” Dr. Lecter's voice echoed from somewhere in the office, getting lost in the books. “Even for the most ravenous of psychology students, of which I know you to be.”
"Hardly." You muttered under your breath. "If that were the case, I wouldn't be begging for help at 2am before the final paper is due."
"Procrastination is only human, my dear." He assured you, his voice drawing closer. "It's common in those with deep-rooted insecurities about their competency."
"Now that sounds more like me." You joked, leaning back on your heels. "Should you really be trying to validate my bad habits? I feel like that's counterproductive."
"Scolding you would be more counterproductive." He corrected. "You've been scolded many times before and you continue your bad habits. Only when we get to the root of your behavior can you begin to reverse it."
He emerged from the bookshelves and handed you a beat-up copy of Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism, which you graciously accepted.
“Thank you so much, Dr. Lecter.” You said, placing your hand over your heart. "I owe you my life."
"I'd hardly equate your life to a used book, Miss [L/N]." Dr. Lecter said. "I feel like, as your therapist, we should talk about why you do."
You looked away, smiling sheepishly. "Maybe sometime in daylight. I've taken up enough of your time as it is. I'll get out of your hair now."
"It would take you more time to get back to your dorm that you could use writing." He said, matter-of-factually. "Write your paper in my office."
You looked at him in disbelief. Your judgment was clouded with energy drinks and desperation. So your usual self-sacrificing polite denial was steamrolled by a very enthusiastic acceptance. "I would be forever indebted to you, Dr. Lecter."
"Miss [L/N]," Dr. Lecter cut in. "You're a student, you need to study."
You didn’t really remember a lot of what happened after you wrapped your arms around his waist, too overwhelmed with gratitude to think if an embrace was even appropriate. It was the middle of the night, so you had an excuse if he shoved you off him. But surprisingly, he didn’t.
You broke the embrace and gathered up your book and computer. “Seriously, I owe you big time for this. You’re really saving my life here.”
“Go write your paper, [F/N].” He ordered. “We can discuss why you conflate your academics and your life during our next appointment. For now, make yourself at home.”
And that you did. Dr. Lecter retired back to bed and you spent a solid four hours typing away. An antique grandfather clock kept count for you. When you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, you sent the paper off to your professor, editing be damned. You let sleep compel you, comforted by the fact that you didn't have to think about your paper for at least another week before the grading period was over.
Dr. Lecter’s desk was the most comfortable surface in the world to you that night, because you slept for six hours with only your arms as a pillow. It was the first rest your body had gotten in quite some time. You were gently coaxed awake by the smell of something delicious.
You followed the smell into a kitchen that could rival those of Michelin-starred restaurants. Dr. Lecter was hard at work, cooking something that enticed your nose. He cracked an egg and looked up at you. “Good morning, Miss [L/N].”
“I’m sorry.” You said, shaking your head shamefully.
“For?” He asked, fixing his attention back on his recipe.
“Falling asleep.” You dropped your shoulders.
“I told you to make yourself at home, did I not?” He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. This time, he sounded like he was actually going to scold you. “Tell me, do you sleep at your desk at home?”
“I try not to.” You answer with a shrug.
“But when you feel yourself falling asleep, you usually put yourself to bed, right?” He continued.
You started to feel a bit stupid. “...yeah.”
He poked at some sausage links in a frying pan, letting out a sizzle. “You could have taken the couch.”
“I guess I was just to sleepy to think of that.” You explained, preparing to be psychoanalyzed no matter what you said.
“No, you were just too polite to push the imagined boundaries of my invitation.” He concluded, busying his hands with plating whatever it was he was making. His tone was comfortingly familiar. “Miss [L/N], don’t sacrifice your comfort for what you think I perceive to be rude. If I found you rude, you’d know it.”
"I'm sorry." You repeated.
"Don't apologize." He said, reaching for the pepper mill. "I know your anxiety disorder makes you feel like you are a burden. I assure you, you are not. I want you to know for next time that the couch is open. Or you could take the guest bedroom."
You stopped yourself before you could apologize again. You momentarily pondered what he had to say before uttering a quiet but convicted "Thank you."
"You're very welcome." Dr. Lecter slid a plate across the table in your direction. "Eat, my dear."
You didn't need to be told twice. You usually didn’t care for sausage, but reconsidered when you took a bite. The meat was so flavorful and rich, a little noise of delight escaped your lips.
Dr. Lecter smiled, your little moan sending his ego through the roof. “You like it?”
“It’s delicious.” You put your fork down, your face flush with embarrassment. “Way better than the food at the dining hall.”
“Miss [L/N],” Dr. Lecter began, putting an extra sausage link on your plate. “If you find yourself in need of psychology texts, I’d be happy to extend my invitation indefinitely.”
You nearly choked on your eggs. “On god?”
“Given that you arrive sometime before midnight and perhaps call ahead, yes.” He answered. “Your studies are your life and breath, after all. You would find yourself very accommodated to here.”
This time, you'd really take him up on his offer.
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