#also my DISSERTATION AH

[bittertomato]

Tired from phd thesis writing gonna think about this again

... Yikes I thought a lot about this AU

No OP Esper powers but there's still experiment bullshit. Love me some fucked up science to cope with my basic science life.

The Level 5s are a military experiment to develop enhanced super soldiers I fucking guess.

The #1 started off as their first and only all-round success. His reflexes are so strong that he's essentially untouchable. A single punch is stronger than a cannon. He moves faster than bullets. Idk. Think the most ridonkulus abilities ever.

Yes I know it's wild that Accelerator went from twink who relied on his reflection powers to someone who's essentially the strongest fighter in the world.

The #2 trained together with #1, but his specs fell short despite going through the same training regime.

The researchers decided that successfully replicating all of #1's specs was a pipe dream, so they started training other Level 5s with some sort of specialization.

#3 has lightning fast reflexes (heh, get it?). She prefers fighting with quick successive strikes, though her "signature move" is something like Saitama's "single normal punch". It wrecks her arm every time she uses it though. Her muscle fibers are durable enough to withstand constant wear and tear from moving quickly, but not a single explosive strike like that.

#4 replicated #1's overall strength. While #3's general output is limited (in Level 5 terms), #4 can dish out those explosive strikes without damaging her body right away. And even if her bones literally break and her muscles tear, she can keep fighting anyway. Girls' got the highest pain tolerance of all the Level 5s.

#5 replicated, and even exceeded, #1's charisma and persuasive ability. Think "sweet talking" but cranked up by 500. Also she's still the least athletic, but because of all the drugs and experiments she's still strong enough to tank punches from a grown man. Doesn't mean she likes it.

#6 was a genius and got the fuck out years ago lol

#7 wasn't actually a lab guinea pig that grew up under the experiments. He was brought in because he naturally had these aptitudes. The higher ups couldn't control him though and he destroyed every facility he was brought to, so they just left him alone.

The ranks are just based on when they started the training regime. It doesn't have anything to do with strength lol.

The Level 5 candidates from canon (specifically Junko and Takitsubo because I don't want to think about the others) were the "next generation" meant to replicate a specific Level 5's capabilities. I'm throwing Kinuahata in this group too. ITEM's stacked.

Mikoto still gets her DNA misused, though the "Level 6 Shift" project gets accelerated in this AU. The experimenters started with one, a dozen, and then amped it up to over a hundred Sisters to dogpile Accelerator. It's not as much of a curbstomp as canon, but he still beats them.

The Sisters have similar capabilities as Mikoto, though their specs are also downgraded.

Alright, that's for powers and shit. Now for relationships:

Accelerator and Kakine were part of the same training group, while Mikoto, Shokuhou, and Mugino came after them.

Mikoto is dense AF. Specifically, Shokuhou lowkey grew attached to her. Because of the two other girls, Mikoto was just slightly less batshit murder crazy than Mugino.

After they reached a certain point in their development, the researchers let them mingle with the outside world. Everyone went off on their own, and Shokuhou never spoke up about wanting to stay with Mikoto.

Mikoto enrolled in the same university and met Kuroko. Idk the details of the start of their friendship and I probably won't until the current Railgun manga hashes out their relationship, but let's just say they became good friends.

Kuroko comes from a wealthy family and is trying to pursue a career in law.

Kuroko also introduces Mikoto to her friends Saten and Uiharu.

Their friendship becomes strained when Mikoto learns about this AU's equivalent of the Level 6 Shift. Her first meeting with Accelerator went... bad.

Basically, parried and countered her strongest attack so fast and effortlessly that Mikoto didn't even realize she was knocked into a coma for a week until she woke up.

She does a similar strategy as canon and tries to destroy all the research facilities involved in it, but she's frequently intercepted by Accelerator himself.

Idk how the project gets stopped honestly. Maybe some teamup with Kakine (because he's so damn petty).

But Mikoto is arrested for property damage and all sorts of other things, and doesn't explain the situation to Kuroko (a junior officer on the case).

Shokuhou bails Mikoto out of jail and finally confesses her old repressed feelings.

Mikoto decides to leave Japan with Misaka 10032.

Did I just Kogami Shinya-fy Mikoto? Yes.

She'll be back 7 years later. Shit happens between Shokuhou and Kuroko. I'll think about this later.

Modern AU with Vigilante/mafia Mikoto x Senator Misaki x Officer Kuroko...

[caesxr]

if i look hot for my thesis presentation do you think they will forgive my crimes (writing 12k words about caesar)

[saturdays--sun]

every day saturday listens to me infodump about the most random shit ever that he knows next to nothing about, and today it's the entire, exhaustive lore of my sims legacy family

[muttslife]

god i miss academia when can i escape the 9-5 please please please please pleaseeeee 🙏🏻

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Could you do a Steve Rogers x reader where he constantly gets distracted by the reader bc he has a crush on her

A/N: It’s been so long since I’ve written anything for the MCU. Enjoy! I didn’t have much time today, so this is just a quick drabble that can be read before the actual story/one-shot. I haven’t decided on the ending yet, but there will definitely be some angst. I’m still unsure if it’ll have a happy ending or not.

Fictober Challenge

“So Cap, what’s the mission now?” Sam asked, lounging back in his chair.

“I don’t know. I didn't call the meeting” Steve replied, arms crossed.

“Then who did?” Clint chimed in, legs kicked up on the table.

“I did” Tony strolled into the room, a broad smile on his face.

“You seem…unusually happy” Nat remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“I am. We have a special guest today” Tony said, sipping his coffee.

“A guest?” Steve asked, not looking pleased. “When were you going to tell us?”  

“Right now. Surprise!” Tony shrugged nonchalantly.

“And when is this mysterious guest arriving?” Clint asked.

“Any minute now” Tony continued to drink.

Before anyone could react further, you appeared at the door “Hello?” you knocked lightly on the open glass, glancing inside curiously.

“Ah, Y/n! Finally!” Tony exclaimed, standing to greet you and pulling you into a bear hug, lifting you off the ground. 

Everyone else was caught off guard. This was a side of Tony they had never seen.

“Anthony, put me down!” you whispered, embarrassed, swatting him until he released you.

Steve cleared his throat, clearly waiting for an explanation.

“Right, everyone, this is Y/n, my cousin. Y/n, this is everyone” Tony gestured grandly.

“Cousin? You have a cousin?” Sam asked, disbelief in his tone.

Natasha smiled, stepping forward to give you a hug. “Good to see you again, Y/n.”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Clint asked, a hint of jealousy in his voice. 

You and Natasha nodded simultaneously.

“Hold on, how do you know each other?” Sam asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Nat asked “When I used to work for Tony, we once visited her.”

“You technically still work for me” Tony teased. “Y/n’s been in Asia for years, studying. She just got her PhD in biochemistry.”

“Congratulations” Bruce said, looking intrigued. “What was your dissertation on, if I may ask?

You opened your mouth to explain, but Tony cut in, “Let’s get lunch first. You’ll have plenty of time to interrogate her later. Pepper’s expecting us.”

—

“So, you’re Bruce. Scientist and Hulk. Sam, Falcon. Clint,Hawkeye. James- sorry Rhodey, War machine…” you trailed off, naming the Avengers.

Steve nodded as you finally turned to him “And you, Steve Rogers, Captain America” you offered him a smile, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Thor is the only one missing right?” you asked and Tony nodded.

“Actually there’s one more” Steve added, “Bucky Barnes. He’s a friend from back in the day.”

Sam huffed “Yeah, but he’s not an Avenger.”

Steve shot him a glance “He comes to training, doesn’t he? Besides, when we need his help, he’s always there for us.” 

“Always there for you, maybe” Sam replied.

Sensing the tension, Clint steered the conversation away “There’s also a kid that Tony brought for a couple of missions.”

“A kid?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at Tony..

Tony shifted uncomfortably “Oh, come on. Technically, he’s in his senior year.”

“Really? You made a high schooler an Avenger?” you rhetorically asked, crossing your arms.

“Well, yes. But-”

“And what’s his superpower?”

“Well, he’s… Spider-Man.”

You blinked “Spinder…what now?”

“Shoots webs. Does spider stuff.”

Sam chuckled as he lowered his voice “She’s gonna ask where the webs come from.”

You crossed your arms, eyeing​ Tony “Does he shoot webs out of his…?”

“Wrists” Tony interjected quickly “Just the wrists.”

Steve turned to you, his voice calm and soft “So, Y/n, are you staying here for a while or settling in for good?”

You hesitated, unsure “That’s a good question. I haven’t fully decided yet, but for now, Anthony said I could stay at the tower. I just don’t want to intrude.”

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but Steve was quicker “Nonsense. You wouldn’t be intruding. Besides, we have plenty of space, and technically, Tony owns the building.” His gentle smile put you at ease.

“Thank you for your generosity” you said with a smile, and Steve’s heart fluttered.

Taglist: @byepolarneko @littlebabycrab @projectxhapiness @ineedcoolshoe @eleshka-still @blindsunkiss04 @saraneville2015 @im-old-now-i-guess

@i-just-wanna-live-gc @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @shymagicsworld @mcubuckyandsteve @imdiegohargreeves @bucky-blogs @alwayshave-faith

@markusstraya @whattaweeb @natasha-danvers @iamwarrenspeace @bullet-babe3 @bonjouritsellaa @thisismysecrethappyplace @simonsbluee @marvel-addict-95 @capsheadquarters

[d-lanx]

I transcribed what McIntyre said to Punk after his mania match

(I did this instead of working on my dissertation and it took an hour of messing with audio and replaying it until I could hear properly)

Essentially, he was saying that Punk is a good commentator and should keep doing it because if he ever wrestles again, McIntyre will end his career. He also really just wanted to rub his win in Punk’s face. Full Transcription is below the photo if you care.

Speakers

P: CM Punk

D: Drew McIntyre

M: Pat McAfee

G: Corey Graves

C: Michael Cole

(ST) is used when multiple things are said at the same time.

Transcription

P: Well, my hat goes off to the champ. I’m not gonna tell him he’s gonna keep it warm for me because I don’t know what the future holds.

*McIntyre stares at Punk, who stares back.*

M: I think he has an idea of what the future holds.

*McIntyre walks towards the commentary table.*

P: Ah. I’ve been here before.

*McIntyre gestures for the other commentators to move out of the way and they do.*

C: Ok.

P: Be careful. Be careful, Drew. Your wife’s here.

*McIntyre climbs onto the table and crawls towards Punk, pushing the belt towards him.*

M: Like a jungle cat on our commentary desk.

*Punk applauds him.*

P: Congratulations. Have fun taking selfies on the internet with it.

*McIntyre kneels on the desk in front of Punk.*

D: I want you to know, every single thing I’ve said about you, I meant every single word.

P: I want you to know that I can’t hear a word you’re saying because I have cans on.

D: And let me tell you something. Right where you’re sitting, I’ll give you props, you got that down like nobody else. Step back in that ring ever again, I won’t put you out for a few months, I’ll end your career.

*Punk laughs.*

D: I’m not playing you; you think it’s funny? I’m not playing you.

P: I think it’s hilarious.

(ST) P: People bigger than you have told me that my career is over.

(ST) D: You’re welcome here.

D: Step back in the ring, I’ll end your career. This is my moment.

P: It is your moment. Why are you- why are you here? Why are you in my face? Why are you making it about me?

D: Because I want to rub it in your goddamn face!

*McIntyre gets up to crouch in front of Punk with the belt.*

(ST) D: Get this shot! I want this framed on my wall!

(ST) P: Alright man. Alright get it.

*Crowd starts chanting “CM Punk”.*

P: I ain’t never won a title and heard other people chanting somebody else’s name.

*McIntyre stands up and gives the DX “suck it” gesture with one hand while holding the belt in the other.*

M: Oh geez.

P: Alright. Ok.

M: Right in his face. He did that right in his face.

*Punk knocks McIntyre over and starts a fight.*

G: Wait a minute!

C: Oh my God!

[skyjasper]

Don't call me crazy

Professor!Az X Student!Reader Modern AU

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N has been lusting after her new British professor since the first day of class, what a perfect coincidence he also becomes her private teacher in all things war and torture.

Warnings: vulgar content, smut, 18+, age gap romance, oral (Fem and Male receiving), choking, praise, dom!az.

Word count: 4207

The first time I stepped into Mr. Singers' classroom I was expecting an old white man who thought he was funny.

What I wasn’t expecting as I took my seat in the front row was for a mid-age, tan skin, handsome man with tattoos and a thick British accent to walk out of the office. I wasn’t the only girl who sighed at his devastatingly handsome face.

“Good morning class. Let’s start with basic attendance so I can put faces to names and then we will get started.” The words rolled out of his mouth with the most sensual deep British accent.

The professor for War and Peace in Historical Perspective was not at all what I thought. Not with his crisp black button-up that had to top button undone and the sleeves rolled up. Not with the inky shadows that peaked up the collar of his shirt and down his very muscular forearm.

I was too busy daydreaming about those muscular forearms holding my waist to hear him call my name.

“Mrs. Y/N?” He asked again, which I only heard because of my seatmate elbowing me.

“Here.” I hesitantly lifted my hand, slowly sinking back into my seat out of embarrassment. His gaze fell upon me with his golden honey eyes.

“Next time, if you choose to be in the front, be more present.” He scolded me before moving on. A blush rose over my cheeks with the stern words.

~~~~

My War and Peace class hadn’t necessarily gotten better but also not worse. My work excelled and I never got below a B. So one could imagine my disappointment when my latest paper on Torture Tactics in War got a C-.

Mr. Singers' hand stayed on my desk as he whispered into my ear.

“See me after class or during office hours today.” His deep voice rolled through my body, shooting straight in between my thighs.

Was it inappropriate to have a huge sexual crush on my teacher who was 20+ my senior? Absolutely. Did it stop me? No. Goosebumps rolled down my bare legs and under my pleated white skirt. I nodded my head quickly as he moved to the next student.

After mentally going through my schedule I decided it would be best to stop by during office hours later.

~~~

My fist lightly knocked on Mr. Singers' office door.

“Come in.” He rumbled.

I opened the door before stepping into the dark space. His dark mahogany desk was neat and organized with papers and notes. The room only being illuminated by a tall lamp in one corner and a smaller salt lamp in the other corner.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask as my hands pull at the end of my navy sweater.

“Ah, yes Mrs. Y/N I wanted to discuss your last paper. Sit.” He nodded to the chair across from him. My feet moved on their own accord to sit, as if aching to obey his every word.

“Yeah I saw I got a C- and I was pretty confused. Is there any way I could revise the paper? I planned on using the topic for my dissertation.” I pulled out the printed paper from my bag.

He watched my every movement very closely. His eyes raked my body from my white headband, over my navy blue sweater and white skirt, and down my bare legs that were currently crossed.

“Yes, the topic is very good however the research is not accurate which in turn made most of your paper inaccurate. I was very disappointed to have to give you a C. You are a bright girl Y/N. I know you have a bright future in history, so I do want to work with you so you can gain better research skills and a better understanding of the topic.” He spoke, moving his dark round glasses back onto his face.

The glasses gave him a nerdy Clark Kent look. The glasses made me want to rip off his shirt and ride him. My thighs squeezed a bit tighter at the warmth that pooled in the lowest parts of me. I nodded with understanding before he continued.

“I specialized in War Torture when I was in school. I interviewed real victims and studied the methods and techniques.” He paused pushing up his sleeves and leaning back before continuing. “In the least creepy way possible, I became a master of torture and its history. When I decide I want to know something, I won’t stop until I devour all I can about it.” He finished.

I think I was delirious because I swear that last phrase was an innuendo. My toes curled in my black boots.

“I understand, and I would love your help since you’re so knowledgeable about it. I double majored in History and Journalism so I could research. How would this work? Should I stay after class or come to office hours?” I asked with a tilt of my head, I felt my hair fall off of one shoulder as I did so.

“How about it this, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday you stop by at let’s say 5:30? Right after office hours so that way we don’t take time from other students.” He asked with his eyebrows raised.

“That works for me! Is there anything I should bring sir?” I asked as I gathered my things.

“Maybe a notebook and your laptop for notes. Other than that we can wing it as we go.” He finished with a small smile and a shrug of one shoulder.

We said goodbyes before I walked out of his office, my thighs now slick in anticipation.

~~~

“Today I figured we could work on the actual technical details of the methods. It is important to understand the thought behind each movement.” Azriel spoke as I walked into his office.

We have been doing this mentorship for the last two months so far. It’s been going well, both of us flirting now and again but never quite crossing the line. He asked me to call him by his first name outside of class, and what a beautiful name he had. Azriel.

I felt his eyes take over my outfit choice for the day. With the warmer weather, my skirt and sweater combo has become more rare. Today I wore a tight white skirt with a cropped white tank top with a thin dark blue cardigan over it and some platform boots. even with my platforms Azriel still stood over me.

“You-you want me to torture you?” My breath hitched with the statement. He let out a small chuckle under his breath.

“No, I’m going to see if you can handle the most basic form of torture. If we can’t understand what torture feels like how can we accurately report it?” He said while moving close to me.

“So what are you going to do to me Mr.Singer?” I asked looking up into his eyes.

“Sensory deprivation. We start with sight, sit down.” He voices as he walks behind me and gently pushes on my shoulder to sit me down.

I took deep breaths as his large hands brought a thick strip of black fabric in front of my face. I felt his presence all too well as he placed the cloth over my eyes and tied it behind my head.

“They start with sensory tactics because there is nothing quite like the paranoia of not being able to see your capturers and what they are doing.” He spoke, his voice drawing quieter as if he moved across the room.

“For example,” He whispered in my ear, easing a small jump out of me. I hadn’t heard his come back, his footsteps silent.

“You have no idea what I’m about to do to you.” He whispered in my other ear, running his fingers over my shoulder. Goosebumps appeared in his wake.

“Can I remove my cardigan? It’s warm in here.” I asked before my fingers fumbled to find the bow holding the top of my cardigan closed. I felt a pair of hands wrap around my own small hands. His fingers slide over mine, quickly pulling the strings of the bow and slowly sliding my cardigan off.

“How are you feeling?” His voice rumbled thick with an accent as he took my cardigan out of my lap.

“I’m ok, it just feels like everything is heightened. Like I can feel everything around me, every breath, every touch. How is this torture?” I whispered with a shaky breath. I know his touch could be innocent but with the massive want between us, every touch feels like he’s about to fuck me.

“It isn’t yet, the next thing they would do would be take away your hearing, they would play sounds that would drive you insane. I’m not going to subject you to that however I am going to create certain sounds and I want you to identify the sounds and objects. Knowing how to use the heightened hearing to your advantage is something that could be very useful in a situation like this.” This time I heard his steps, like he purposefully made them louder.

I gave a nod, moving my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting. The first sound I heard sounded like glass. I waited another second before responding to be sure.

“Is it a glass? Like a cup?” I tilted my head towards the sound.

“Yes very good. Would you like some water Y/N?” I felt his approach to my front. I gave another quick nod, sticking out my hands for the cup.

“Ha, knowing you if I tried to hand you this glass you would spill it all over yourself.” He chuckled under his breath.

“You’re not wrong, but how else am I supposed to drink the water?” I lifted a curious brow even though he couldn’t see it.

“Tilt your head back.”

A simple command, yet hearing it set my body alight. I felt warmth gather low in my belly as I did what he asked. As I felt his fingers grasp my chin, pulling open my mouth, I felt that warmth seep out of me. I tried to cross my legs, not realizing how close he truly was.

“Is something wrong Y/N?” He asked with what sounded like knowingness in his voice. I tried to shake my head but couldn’t because of his grip.

“Use your words.” He spoke again. More heat seeped into my panties at his command.

“Nope, nothing's wrong.” My voice came out more breathless than intended.

He hummed before touching the cold rim of the glass to my bottom lip. I felt him tip back my head some more before pouring in the water.

“Would you like to know something Y/N?” He asked as he closed my mouth, allowing me to swallow with a gulp.

“What’s that Mr.Singer?” I asked, feeling his thumb coming up to wipe a small dribble of water that escaped my lips.

“You look divine like this, I can only imagine what you would look like if I could see your eyes.” He whispered as his hand moved from my jaw into my hair.

I sucked in a harsh breath before lifting my hands to remove the blindfold that prevents me from seeing him.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I didn’t say you could take it off just yet.” His voice was light and full of amusement. Then the entire room shifted as his hand fisted my hair and brought my face closer to his.

I felt his heated gaze take over my body as his breaths gained speed. Then I heard the most torturous sound leave his lips. A groan that sounded like I hit him. Then his heat was gone, all contact broken.

“I shouldn’t do this. You’re my student.” He spoke with anguish. I stood quickly, a little too quickly by the way I swayed. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, steadying me. One hand found the tie holding together the blindfold, I quickly undid it and let it fall to the floor.

My eyes raked over his chest as I adjusted to the light. Did he get hotter while I couldn’t see? His shirt was messy like he had been raking his hands over it. And when I tilted my head to meet his eyes, a whole head and a half taller than me, the hunger I found there was insatiable. And whatever he found my eyes must have changed something for him.

“Fuck it.” He whispered before pulling my head closer to him, smashing my lips into his. I melted as he kissed me.

He kissed me like he was a man dying of starvation and I was his only food source. The hand that was holding the back of my neck moved into my hair pulling it tightly. He ripped his mouth from mine with a gasp.

“Fuck.” He muttered with a new horse and raspy voice. There was a war in his eyes, a conflicting battle.

I decided to end that battle by slipping one of my fingers over his black button-up, slowly undoing each button. When his chest was fully revealed I took a second to marvel at the gorgeous tattoo that spanned his entire muscles chest before pressing a kiss into his pecks.

“Please, Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking up at him with doe eyes and using my softest voice. I saw the battle end and that hunger take over again.

“Jesus fuck, you will be the death of me, baby.” He grunted as his hands slid under my thighs and lifted me onto his desk.

A smile overtook my face as his hands gripped my ass. I gently tugged on the open shirt, asking for him to remove it. I almost let out a cry at the loss of his heat. He pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion, stepping back in between my spread legs.

Azriel slants his mouth over mine once again, his hands grazing over my bare thighs, reaching under my skirt. I let out a small moan when his fingers gripped my thighs.

“Do you like that Y/N?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before sliding his hands under my thighs and pulling me to the edge of the desk.

“God yes, Mr. Singer.” I moaned as he continued to manhandle me. His hands roamed from my thighs to my waist pulling my chest into his.

“Fuck I love the way you say my name. But I love your beautiful tits even more.” He grunted out before pulling my tank top down.

“You have no idea how many times you’ve distracted me in class. Prancing around in these tiny skirts without any tights and your tiny tops. The number of times I’m lecturing and all I can look at are your beautiful thighs.” He ground out as he brought his mouth to my nipples.

A wave of pleasure rolled through me as his tongue swirled my nipped. A loud moan fell out of my mouth when he lightly bit it. My hips bucked forward, almost causing me to fall off the desk but his hands were there, sliding me back onto the steady table.

“Careful there baby. Tell me what you need.” His breath whispered over my nipples with a shuttering sensation.

“You. I need you Azriel.” I whined, grinding my hips into the air. He fell to his knees, his hands pushing my skirt up.

“How do you need me? Do you need my tongue?” He asked as he licked a line from the base of my core to my clit, letting his tongue linger with an audible groan.

“Do you need my fingers?” His strong fingers followed his tongue, drawing a line through my wetness and swirling around my clit, causing me to gasp. My hand reached for my nipple as he paused, leaning back to look at me. After a beat of silence and direct eye contact, he said,

“Or do you need my cock?”

I’m pretty sure I almost orgasmed from those words alone, but I still replied.

“I don’t know, just please. Touch me. Anything, please.” I begged as my hips writhed against the desk. A wicked cruel look came into his eyes.

“Please what? If you’re gonna beg you might wanna address who you’re begging too.” An eyebrow hitched as he slowly brought the finger that hand wiped my wetness to his lips. Rubbing my arousal onto his lips.

“Please, Mr.Singer. I don’t care how but I need you to fuck me.” I whined out.

“Good girl.” My body came alive at the praise and the sight of him moving forward, face into my pussy.

His tongue licked another stripe before sucking on my clit over my panties. One of my hands fell to his hair, holding him into me as he continued to eat me like his life depended on it. His fingers slid up my thighs before grabbing the waistband of my panties and tugging them down. The cold air sent shivers down my spine as he hesitated.

“Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking down at where he sat with his eyes locked on my bare core.

“You are so fucking beautiful. I haven’t stopped thinking about this since the first day of class so I’m going to enjoy it,” he whispered in a daze. His hand forced my legs open even wider, completely exposing me to him.

His thick fingers traced every part of me as one of his hands fell to his hard erection in his pants. My gaze slid down to stare at the now bulging point in his black briefs. I took a moment to truly appreciate the sight before me.

One of the hottest men sitting on his knees, palm rubbing himself, his lips glistening with my arousal, hair a tossed mess from my fingers, and those damn tattoos that moved with each of his breaths. I nearly came at the sight.

I closed my legs, nimbly sliding onto the floor in front of him. My knees hit the hard floor as his gaze dragged over my bouncing tits. One of my hands found his belt and tugged, trying my best to convey what I wanted without words.

He stood quickly, one hand unbuckling his belt and pulling it off in a fast and clean motion. He took a second to wrap up the belt and place it on his desk, not once breaking eye contact. My thin hands slid up his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down.

His cock sprang free with a small bounce. A small gasp left my mouth as I beheld the sight of his long and thick cock that has barbell piercings along the shaft. I rubbed my thumb over his head, collecting the small bit of pre-cum, and sucked it into my mouth.

Azriels head fell back with a groan, one that became even louder as one of my hands wrapped around his length. I let my lips softly kiss the head of his cock before sucking it into my mouth. I took a minute to warm up to his size before looking up at him.

The second I made eye contact his hand flew to my hair and forced me down on his cock. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to take it all.

“Come on, be a good girl and take my cock, pretty girl.” He ground out as his thumb from his free hand smudged my mascara with my tears.

I moaned around his cock and I forced myself up and down him. He was too long to fit in my mouth so with what I couldn’t swallow I used my hand. I pulled off of his cock with a pop, leaning forward and spitting on it before using two hands to jerk him. I moved his cock over my chest, savoring the professor's low groans and curses.

I felt two strong arms slid under my arms, stopping my movement. He picked me up until I was face to face with him and my feet were dangling. He started at me with so much heat to anyone else it might seem like anger. He slid his arms to my waist and pulled my body against him as I kissed me. On instinct, my legs wrapped around his waist, lining me up perfectly to feel the head of his cock push against me.

We both gasped at the contact. It didn’t take him long to walk us over to the wall by the chair, pushing me against it and thrusting his cock so he slid through my folds. A loud moan leaves my mouth when he hits my clit.

“I need you. I’m clean, please fuck me Azriel.” I begged.

A long and overdrawn “Fuck” left his bruised lips. One of his hands guided his cock to line up with my hole.

“I’m gonna fuck you, it’s not gonna be sweet, and it’s not going to be slow. It’ll be hard, and dirty, but fuck will it feel good. Is that ok baby?” He tormented me by nudging the very tip of him into me.

“Yes, god yes.” I threw my head against the wall. I would do anything to just put him inside me.

“Good, I want you to ride me, I wanna see those beautiful tits bounce as you struggle to take me in your little cunt.” He whispered into my ear before moving us so he was sitting on the chair and I was sitting on his thigh. I rubbed against his thigh for any friction I could get.

“Fuck you’re killing me.” His hands ran up and down my sides, as I readjusted myself so I was hovering over his cock.

One of my hands gripped his shaft helping me to sit on his cock. I did it slowly, letting myself feel each inch, feel the stretch of him. We both moaned at the sensation, and he didn’t give me much time to adjust before his hands were moving my hips.

I moved with his hands, grinding on his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt something as good as this. You are perfect.” He said as he tilted his head back. I started to move up and down on his shaft, every so often switching to grinding against him.

His head snapped back to lock me in the eye before his hands found my hips with a bruising grip, stopping my bouncing. He thrust his hips up, hard and fast.

“Oh fuck.” I screamed out as he continued to fuck me.

His arms enclosed my waist fully, holding me to his chest as my fingers raked the strong muscles.

“You’re so good, thank you sir.” I moaned and pulled my nails down so hard I left marks.

His replying hum was more than enough for me as he moved his lips to suck on the sensitive spot between my neck and ear.

I felt a tight tension run down my spine as my orgasm grew closer. He let me grab one of his hands, and I guided it around my throat, gently squeezing to signal what I wanted.

“You want me to choke you? Maybe you did pick the right field.” He muttered with a condescending laugh. But still, he obliged, squeezing the sides so I got that beautiful blood rush. His pace quickened as I tightened around him.

“Cum baby, milk my cock with your cunt. Be my good girl and cum.” He said before he licked a strip of my neck.

My orgasm shook my body with a force that I hadn’t felt before. Frat guys are notorious for not making girls cum. My cunt squeezed him as he jerked up into my cunt before pulling out. I whimper at the loss of contact before I felt ropes of his cum paint my stomach, just where it would be if he were inside me.

As I came down from my high I felt his fingers dragging up my stomach, collecting his cum onto his digits. He brought them to my mouth and pushed them into my lips. I took no time licking them clean of his cum and sucking them like they were his cock. I kept my most innocent eyes as I swirled my tongue around them and popped them out of my mouth.

“One day I want to see your mouth full of my cum. For now, I need to clean you up and get you back to my place.” He gently lifted me and sat me down on the couch before turning and getting a rag out of his office cabinet.

He sunk to his knees before me, gently wiping me clean and muttering praises. My mind was a puddle and my body was spent. He gently pulled my tank top back up and covered me with his suit jacket. We made sure the coast was clear before walking to his car and driving to his apartment where we spent the rest of the night fucking, cuddling, and getting to know each other better.

~~~

A/N: here it is!!!!!! Next up, chapt 4 of S&S!!!!!!!

Taglist: @littlelunatica @going-through-shit @annaaaaa88 @i-am-infinite @impossibelle

[deaneverafter]

Nope, this false image that's gaining traction due to people's "joking" insults, the idea that Jensen is incompetent and nothing more than a pretty face, that he's not responsible for his own career and that Danneel is the mastermind behind his success... it's getting out of hand.

I expect this from the loser extras, including but not limited to, Misha, Briana, Kim, Rich, Rob. They're desperate for fandom (heller) approval & they resent Jensen (& Jared), hate that J2 were integral to the show, unlike them. So the s*x*al harassment and digs are a two in one, get clout AND revenge. I didn't expect such behaviour from TW cast (if someone gives you your big break/starts your whole career, the least they should be able to expect is basic decency), mocking, belittling Jensen, so I was disappointed. But all things considered, seeing the behaviour that was someone was modeling for them, encouraging them into, I guess it shouldn't be surprising. I've even come to expect it from fandom people, heller and non heller alike, who are highly involved in the con circuit, since the resentment many people in this fandom have against Jensen for being everything they can't be, everything they can't have, is so blatant. Their snide "jokes" about "you're not my fave, your brother-in-law/Misha/JoJo are", "you're nothing to me, I love your wife [but I did spend thousands of dollars to be in *your* presence to tell you that]" are their bitterness manifesting, plus, the con handlers encourage it too.

But now, to see crew members from Supernatural, people who worked w/ Jensen for a decade & a half, people who had a job for 15 years because Jensen (and Jared) stayed, people who've seen his work ethic, his talent... for them to turn around and make fun of him, it's too much. And for what? To get clout by spreading this weird "joke" (frigging insult) that Danneel is the successful producer who is sustaining his career, and Jensen is just her loser husband, her puppet? Like, I'm sorry, but I'm failing to see the "humour" in such digs. I don't get it.

And what's perhaps worst of all, is that these people only get away with it because so called fans don't call it out, even defend & make such claims themselves. I get why hellers love it, no one hates Jensen more than the Misha / destiel cult. But what's everyone else's reason? You guys cry about the big, bad coven day in, day out, when such toxic environment towards Jensen, surely started by hellers, but sustained by the rest of the fandom, could do much more damage than the haters could ever even dream of doing. What happens when people outside the fandom start hearing and believing such things? Casual fans don't do a deep dig. They hear something, and they think, ah, must be true (and I don't blame them. You can't conduct a dissertation on every artist you like).

How can you call yourself a Jensen fan and then hear such pathetic insults, disguised as funny jokes, and laugh? How can you sit back and watch this disease spread like wildfire, this image of him that he's not responsible for his own career? That he's just a pretty face, a puppet Danneel is pulling by the strings, who only has a career because Danneel has her hand on the wheel? I'm not sure what people feel Jensen has done to deserve this, to have all his hard work, commitment, effort, be dismissed this way, smh, and by people who claim to be his fans, at that. Snakes in the grass, more like.

What's also interesting is that Danneel's fans never put her down to hype Jensen up. Her friends take it one step further than jokes. They seriously claim that she's the one behind Jensen's career & success, that she's the one making things happen behind the scenes. Danneel herself literally pushes this agenda that Jensen "only moves left and right, and does what it does, because I have my hands on it", because I guess it gives her an ego trip and makes her feel relevant, assuages her insecurities a bit, while all Jensen does is support her and her whims and hypes her up.

And I just-? This makes it even crazier to me that some "Jensen Ackles fans" are not only condoning these false claims being made, they're actually the ones hammering them in, trying to brainwash the rest of the fandom, bullying people into going with these stories? Let's get this clear. Jensen has a successful career, including a steady stream of excellent jobs since he was 18, coworkers (the genuine ones anyway) who only praise him, directors/writers who want to work with him again, because of HIS hard work, HIS talent, HIS work ethic. He also has Chaos Machine because he worked hard enough, gained enough trust, that higher ups were ready to take a chance on Jensen and his projects. Danneel has Chaos Machine, the Supernatural role and any other roles she might get through CM (so essentially the entirety of her career in recent history) because she's married to Jensen. Her own career independent of Jensen peaked at a recurring role as a high school mean girl, trampling on others to make herself feel special. Since then, all her relevance or "career" has been because of Jensen and Jensen's name. That's literally it. I know this is a touchy topic for some people, but if someone's responsible for the other's career and relevance, it sure as hell is not Danneel ☕ And stealing credit from Jensen and his work and slapping it next to her name isn't going to change that. If the goal is truly to hype her up, and not go put Jensen down, and one wants to prove she's a girlboss, surely she has her own accomplishments one can brag about? Credit stolen from his work shouldn't be required.

If you call yourself a Jensen fan, act like it. Protect him, instead of cackling with a-holes mocking and degrading him. Stop dismissing his work and success to prop others up. And if you can't, then drop the "Ackles fan" in your bio and start calling yourself a hater 🤷🏻‍♀️

[ode-to-fury]

Pure Gale Fluff

Gale/Tav

Ignore the layout of the tower mentioned here I tried to be as vague as possible but it doesnt make any sense🤷‍♀️. Also wizard magic=science rules right? That makes sense?? Does to me so there you go. I headcanon that Arabella Shadowheart and Astarion stay in Waterdeep for at least a few weeks before moving on to wherever they go next

I’m literally on a roll with these lol

The tower was warm against the chill outside when Gale got back from his errands in the city. It smelled of snow outside, and he smiled, happy to be home, at least before the flakes started falling.

Darkness was falling behind the clouds, and Tav had started a fire while he was gone, though she hadn’t closed the curtains, and soft light still filtered in through the windows, illuminating Tara’s curled up form in front of the fireplace, where she was snoring gently.

Tav herself was asleep on the couch in front of that same fire. She had taken it upon herself to slightly rearrange his library room, to make it more “homey” she said. He’d grumbled about it good naturedly, but in that moment he realised he’d let her rearrange anything she wanted if it meant he could come home to her, asleep in front of a fire like she was just then.

It had been… an adjustment, coming back to his tower. What he had thought would be a refuge against the world had turned out to be filled with less than pleasant memories of the time before their adventure.

Then we’ll make new memories, she’d said. New memories like coming home to her sleeping form after a cold day outside.

Golden brown hair spilled over an armrest, and a heavy leather tome was propped against her knees, arms crossed over her chest.

He walked over to her after depositing his packages, and almost reverantly bent down next to the couch. His fingers tangled in that silky golden hair even as he kissed her cheek softly.

She was awake immediately, he knew, because she was the lightest sleeper in the realms, but she kept her eyes closed stubbornly.

He grinned, and this time he kissed those wonderfull lips of hers. She grinned into it, and when he pulled away, stretched awake, almost catlike in her movements.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I was reading this horrible dissertation. Can you believe this man thinks that Melf’s third law of evocation is as he put it “a loosely connected string of words with no real meaning behind them”?”

Gale grinned.

“You don’t agree?”

“The third law is the only one that makes any sense to me, if I’m being completely honest.”

She smiled, her wonderful eyes twinkling with delight. Her hand cupped his cheek, callouses scraping over his beard in the most wonderful way.

“A few weeks ago you didn’t know Melf had any laws,” he murmured, grinning as he kissed her again.

“Well, now I do,” she said matter of factly. “And I’ve formed an opinion, based on my sorcerous expertise.”

“Ah,” he said, “of course. Though many powerful mages would agree that your opinion is wrong.”

Her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she pulled him forward for another kiss.

“I don’t think you know what the word ‘opinion’ means, Gale Dekarios.”

He laughed, and her eyes twinkled in response, and for a moment the breath was knocked out of him. So much so that he had to sit back, away from her.

She frowned, sitting up, all traces of sleep gone from her eyes and demeanor, replaced by a worried frown, a tension that meant she was ready for a fight.

“Gale?” She asked, “What is it?”

What is it?

How could he explain it? How could he explain the feeling of coming home to a tower where a fire was already roaring against the chill outside? How could he explain the sight of his tressym companion curled up asleep without a worry in front of that fire? How could he explain the sight of her, asleep in front of that same fire, the feeling in his chest when he was allowed to kiss her into wakefulness and she did not jump up, scared, because she knew, finally, that she was safe with him? How could he explain the way he had someone to discuss Melf with, after years of just Tara? Someone who would argue back as an equal? How could he ever explain how her laughter felt like a balm to his heart? How could he ever explain exactly what she meant to him? Him, who could normally find words for anything.

“I- uhm,” he grinned slightly, “I don’t know if I could ever verbalise how much it means to have you here. With me.”

Her eyes softened, and she lay her head down on the couch again.

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure,” she said softly, her starlit eyes twinkling.

There was a yawn from the direction of the fireplace, and Tara stretched herself into wakefulness not unlike Tav had done only a few minutes before.

“Ah!” The tressym said, “Mr. Dekarios, thank goodness you’re back! I trust you brought me back some of those wonderful fishes from the market for dinner? I would have gone out earlier to hunt pidgeons, but I’m afraid the fire was much too comfortable.”

He reluctantly broke free of Tav’s soft gaze to turn to his tressym companion.

“Why of course, Tara my dear,” he said, getting up with a groan. His knees really did not agree with the cold.

“Would you like your share now, or would you like to wait while I cook for all three of us?”

“Just the three of us?” Tav asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Yes, unfortunately,” he replied, walking down to the kitchen.

“Astarion and Arabella are still at the Yawning Portal, Arabella said she would keep him company until sundown. Shadowheart was ‘much too busy with Shieldmeet preparations to have dinner tonight��. So, just the three of us.”

He started charming spices and sauces from various shelves as Tara twisted herself between his legs in her age old ritual of welcome.

“I can’t decide,” Tav’s voice drifted down to him from the library. “Whether Astarion or Arabella is the worse influence.”

She appeared in the doorway, somehow managing to look put together with slightly mussed hair and dressed in one of his old sleep shirts.

“Now that is a question, isn’t it?”

She came up and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, her cheek resting against his back, and again he had to take a moment and compose himself.

“Personally I think they both bring out the worst in each other, although at least the vampire treats me with dignity when he is here,” Tara spoke up, hopping up onto the counter in front of him.

“Arabella’s still learning, Tara,” Tav said.

“Hmpf. Well. She’ll learn quickly enough why no one else yanks a tressym’s tail if she ever does it again.”

“So, Tara,” Gale said quickly, aware his companion’s temper could flare sometimes. “Fish now, or fish later?”

“I shall wait, Mr. Dekarios. I have manners. Besides, if I eat now I shall most certainly fall asleep, and then how will the two of you entertain yourselves?”

He could picture Tav’s mischievous smile as she said, “Oh, I can think of a few ways.”

He blushed slightly as she kissed the back of his neck, but thankfully, Tara had turned away to inspect the quality of the fish he had bought.

[crescencestudio]

Devlog #31 | 05.29.23

Hi everyone!

I am once again bringing you a monthly update. As some of you may know, I recently announced I am participating in Otome Jam this year. With that said, this devlog will be a bit unique in that it will include updates for both "intertwine" (very general updates) and "Alaris" (our usual program of updates) \o/

Writing

Ah, the section that made me sad every time I looked at it for the past two months (kidding, I'm being dramatic). As you all may know, I'm creating a project for OtoJam, "intertwine."

“Would you choose me in every lifetime?”

With another creative project and my dissertation, I was nervous this month that Druk's route was going to make little progress in the writing department yet again.

BUT I AM VERY HAPPY TO SAY THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN OWO

Intertwine has very much given me the creative boost I needed to combat my burnout/rut, and I was able to make a lot of progress on both projects (and my dissertation!). Intertwine script is currently sitting at 15k words and is in the final developmental stage as we speak. I was able to write up a little under half of Druk's script and it currently sits at 20k words!

There are still a couple of scenes I need to go back and write in, but I'm confident they will be easy to write because they're more fun/juicy scenes. Additionally, the remaining half of Druk's route will be pretty action-packed, which is much easier for me to write than the more subtle plot beats. So I'm quite confident I'll be able to finish Druk's route by our next update, which also means Alaris will officially reach the halfway mark for the script!!! AAA. I also wrote 10k words for my dissertation, so I wrote like 50k words this month YAY I WAH

Art

Regarding the art front, most of my attention has been on intertwine this month due to time constraints. I've finished the base sprite, most of the GUI mockups, and some CGs!

We also got this beautiful logo from puchi for the game, and I'm excited to soon show you all more progress pictures ^^

Promo art feat. Vân and Game Logo

For Alaris, Vui continues to hit it out of the park with the backgrounds. I have previews of the Dawn and Dusk Court for you all, and they are beauty! I'm so excited to receive more Fae related BGs from him, though I may not be able to show as many to you all because spoilers from here on out <\3

Dawn Court

Dusk Court

Additional Notes

The remaining soundtracks for Alaris were completed this month by Peter as well! I still am in the process of reviewing them as they're moreso in the draft stages, but they're sounding beautiful so far.

Intertwine will also be featuring voice acting, and with auditions closing soon, we’ll be selecting a voice for Vân as well in the near future ^^

No market research this month, but I did read the Villains Are Destined to Die manhwa and that art and Callisto are so yummy

Anyways, I think that's enough from me, so that is all for this month's update! Stay safe, and see you all next month <3

[tarithenurse]

I see fire - 24

Fandom: D&D 5E/homebrew campaign. Word count: 3697. Contents: Lessons, friendshaped, missions, and encounters. A/N: Any questions are welcome. Please comment and like and reblog. Let me know if you want a tag. Divider by @firefly-graphics

XXIV

The trio’s initial plans of heading out the very next day are dashed as a thunderstorm greets them in the morning. Heavy clouds laden with rain that comes pouring down endlessly darkens the world and the only bright light are from the occasional lightning flashes that echo between the mountain sides. As much as the mayor might have light a swift solution to the orc problem, it would be folly to head out in this weather.

Coming downstairs in the inn to find some breakfast, the trio are discussing what to do instead. They are greeted by Kathy who hands them two health potions and explains that Campbell wants them to stop by. She also serves them piping hot porridge with brown sugar and butter so they have a solid start for the day.

After eating, the trio head out int he bad weather, sprinting from shelter to shelter on the way and avoiding the narrower bridges for fear of being toppled over by the strong winds that occasionally tries to push anyone off their paths.

By the city hall, the trio are let in by a man who presents himself as Gibson. He takes their cloaks to hang up for drying and guides them to the mayor’s office.

“Ah!” Campbell smiles at the sight of the trio, “glad you can come already. What a dreadful weather, don’t you say?”

They have to agree, at the same time apologizing for being unable to set out that day but he waves them off, promising that he wouldn’t want them to do anything rash.

“It does mean my shield might be finished before we leave,” Anvindr manages to see the positive side of it.

Campbell nods. “And for you to study a bit.” He pulls a book from a shelf and hands it to Zilvra. “Harris said this might be of interest to you. It’s his work.”

Taking it, the drow leaves through the book and is at first skeptical because what she sees are some very detailed erotic drawings, but when she glances up to the mayor, he motions for her to go on. Continuing, the book develops into an encyclopedia or dissertation of the orcish culture and language which indeed is very interesting.

“Thank you,” she smiles, already curious as to what she can learn.

Campbell sits down and his smile fades. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed it but the river’s losing it’s power even with the heavy rainfall. Throughout the night, it’s reduced the flow.”

Morella nods, the only one of the trio who had noticed is appears. “What’s causing it?”

“Don’t know. We need to find out and correct the problem because so much of the city is running on the power from the stream.”

“Before people notice, I guess,” Anvindr guesses.

“Yes, but with the weather today I’d be too dangerous to send anyone out so...we have to wait. As soon as it clears up, though...”

Zilvra forces herself to stop leafing through the book, closing it in her lap instead. “Upstream...that’s north? Where we’re heading anyways?”

The mayor nods.

“We’ll keep our eye open when heading out,” Morella promises.

That makes the human smile. “That’s greatly appreciated. In the meantime. I trust you got the potions?” They nod, making him smile wider. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“It’s a bit off topic but...do you know anything about the cold war between the drow and Stouvania?” Zilvra asks, grasping at straws for some reason she can’t quite explain to herself.

The man shakes his head, seemingly dissatisfied with his own answer. “I’m sorry. I don’t know much about it as I wasn’t directly involved and there exist close to no writing on the subject.”

“Oh.”

But he sends her a gentle smile. “You know people who were, though. Like Harris. Try and ask him.”

“Do you then, maybe, have something about crafting of fine metalwork?” Anvindr scoots in. “Not jewellery but small parts.”

“I might have a thing or two on that subject due to the city’s trade,” Campbell smiles, standing to browse the books behind him. “It’s generally taught by master smiths. But let’s see...ah!” He pulls out two books and hands them to the eager looking genasi. “I expect these back, of course.”

“Of course!”

The mayor smiles jovially. “Now, you have some reading and I have work to tend to...that never slows down regardless of the weather.”

With that, he sees them out to the stairs where Gibson takes over and retrieves their cloaks before seeing them fully out.

The group is halfway back to the inn when Morella suddenly drags her friends down a narrow alley.

There, in a relatively sheltered corner between some crates, are a few dogs curled up and trying to keep warm in the rain. Creeping closer to them, the druid coos and sweet talks the animals, holding out her hand from which Goodberries roll to entice the poor beasts. Eager for the food and kindness, the dogs wags their tails and whine, inching closer before seeking shelter under her cloak as she has squatted on the ground.

Carefully but with full determination, the eladrin picks up the dogs, bundling them in her cloak as if to hide them.

“Morella...you can’t bring them to the inn,” Anvindr gently admonishes her.

“But they’re wet and cold!” she complains. “I won’t leave them outside in a weather like this with no shelter.”

“That’s sweet but you can’t bring them either,” he repeats.

Still, she keeps them in her arms, tugged close to her chest despite their wriggling and the soft lapping of their tongues at her chin.

“Oh bother,” the genasi sighs.

Looking about, the splits one of the crates apart, using the wooden planks to further weather proof another crate which he leans and affixes onto a third, creating a shelter for the rain and wind.

“There,” he huffs, returning his hammer to his belt, “now they can stay dry.”

“Thank you!” The eladrin is one big smile, causing Anvindr to mumble something inaudible as she returns the dogs to their new hiding spot. “Take care, buddies,” she coos as she pets them one last time.

Then she straightens up, grabs Anvindr by the hand and leads them all back to the inn.

Once at the Ivy End, the trio takes a moment to dry up and even splurges on getting some real tea before Anvindr and Zilvra settle down to study. Morella is satisfied with just relaxing, she claims.

Zilvra picks up on more information than just the language – there’s a note about Harris being sent out to spy on orcs during that war with the orcs and so he’s learned about various tribes and how they cooperate and distribute tasks: front-liners with two-handed axes and no shields, scouts with tough skin, the so-called breeders which is a group of mainly females. Apparently, orcs don’t tend to be smart but there’s a tiny fourth group consisting of shamans and others that tend to be wiser.

“Huh, this is interesting. Orcs overall are apparently unintelligent, live short lives, and the pregnancies are of three to four months’ duration with some exceptions of half a year that are ’revered’,” Zilvra summarizes for whoever cares to listen. “What’s so special about those pregnancies? They’re still short.”

“I guess everything’s relative,” Morella ponders. “But yeah, considering that nine month’s the average then -”

“Nine months?!” Zilvra lets the book fall to stare at her friend. “They take five years. Not months that would just be ridiculous.”

Now it’s Morella’s turn to be aghast and even Anvindr begins to pay attention to the conversation.

“You’re saying,” the druid wants to ensure, “that your kind are pregnant for five years even if you only can become pregnant each 25 years?”

Zilvra doesn’t quite get the problem. “Yeah...it’s...we’re not rats or kobolds so of course.”

Anvindr just shakes his head and delves back into his book, apparently not in the mood for a discussion of appropriate intervals for procreation.

“You’re kind is very different from mine,” Morella decides, “but I think my greatest delight in all of this is how you’re learning about other options.”

“But...?”

“Relax, you’re good.”

And with that the druid leaves the room.

---

The next day is no better weather wise meaning the trio still are stuck in town. It is now evident that the river is slowed, barely capable of making the waterwheels turn.

A few good things does happen:

At noon, Morella returns, excitedly announcing that she’s found an owl in the neighbouring room. Admittedly, it’s not just a random bird, but does appear to belong to the resident of the room who might be Kathy. Also, the owl was grumpy, because it’s not been able to fly out the last night.

And after lunch Anvindr goes to fetch his new shield which he’s very pleased with.

---

The storm does die out that night, allowing the trio to get up early with the sun and head out into a world where drops still cling to every surface, refracting the early rays.

On the way out, they hear the commotion caused by the lack of water in the river – it’s now no more than a trickle – and by the northern gates they see Campbell and another man bid good luck to two official looking men who in turn take control over a few men each.

These little groups fall into step with the trio, the leaders introducing themselves as Bennet and Cooper.

Following the road beside the riverbed north, the trio and Coopers group keep pace for a while until they’ve passed the mine and come into the mountains proper. Then it becomes evident that the locals are more used to handling the terrain as they begin to outpace the trio.

It’s a hard day’s march along a jagged path with very few options for rest.

That’s why it’s late before the trio finds a suitable spot to camp at, wanting to not push themselves but instead be ready for whatever they might face the next day.

---

Another day comes with sunshine and warm temperatures and an eladrin that sports the golden hues of her summer persona. Struggling through the path that often is blocked partially by jagged spikes, they feel their energy wane as the day passes.

By the afternoon, however, the trio catch up with a familiar group who stand in the riverbed by a huge pile of rocks crossing the expanse of the river. A dam.

“Wait,” Morella urges her friends.

“Yeah I see it,” Zilvra agrees. “They’re too still.”

Creeping closer, Anvindr and the drow take cover behind a large boulder that the river in all the years hasn’t been able to move. Meanwhile, Morella twists and turn, become a snake that can slither closer and out of sight of her friends.

A while passes, time that feels to be moving too slowly, but eventually Morella makes it back to her friends.

“It’s just cloaks hanging on wooden stakes,” the druid announces as she returns to her usual form. “But there was blood and it was drying so it’s probably been a while already since whoever used to own the cloaks were here.”

“Orcs?” Anvindr whispers.

Morella nods. “Saw two behind the boulder sort of to the right.”

Looking determined, Anvindr pulls one of his contraptions from his belt. “Give me a good shot and they can’t hide there any longer.”

Taking a few steps out, he lobs the ball-like object onto the ground a bit further away and the trio watch it assemble into a small turret that appears to take aim and fire at the boulder, splintering off a rather big section and thereby revealing an orc who looks both surprised and infuriated but who also doesn’t waste time and takes aim at Anvindr, hurting him.

Two more appear from the other side of the boulder, sprinting towards where the trio had been hiding.

Slamming his new shield into the silt left by the river, Anvindr takes a stance against the onslaught, brave and unfazed by the ferocity of the orcs.

Morella transforms once more, this time into a wolf who snarling and snapping engages with the first orc to reach her friend while Zilvra fires her hand crossbow at the same target, each time ducking back down behind the boulder, hoping the orcs won’t notice where the shots are coming from in time.

It’s a messy fight.

Not before long even Zilvra has been drawn out into combat proper, dancing about the orcs as best as she can to avoid their great axes. At some point, when one strikes her, she swears at the orcs in their own tongue – currently the only words she can remember from Harris’ book that are unrelated to anything sexual – and they startle in surprise of hearing their own speech from her.

Still, it’s no easy battle. The orcs are tough and clearly used to fighting in this rugged terrain.

“Zilvra, move!” Anvindr calls out, causing the drow to pivot behind the orc she had been fighting.

Just in time too: the turret delivers a new shot, one that nails the big enemy right between the eyes and causing him to keel over dead at last.

Seeing their comrade or maybe leader fall, the two other orcs share a quick glance before turning to flee and despite the attempt at pursuing them, the trio can’t keep up or wear them down and they have to watch the surviving enemies disappear over the bank of the drying riverbed.

“They’re probably off to warn of what’s happened,” Zilvra guesses.

Anvindr nods, wiping sweat off his forehead. “Nothing we can do about that.”

Morella comes limping back, no longer in her wolven form. She takes a moment to heal her own wounds as well as help Zilvra who’s bleeding from quite a gash along the shoulder.

While she tends to the wounds, Anvindr walks up to the nearest cape that still flutters in the breeze, taking it off the scaffolding and bunching it up. He does the same with the other two, finding that one has a large gash in it and the other is bloodied.

Then they all scour the area, eventually finding the corpses of Cooper and his men off on the far side of the riverbed. Well, probably Cooper and his men...it’s hard to identify them because they’re in such horrible condition.

“It’ll be too heavy to bring them with us,” Anvindr admits before beginning to strip them of any useful gear.

It’s a gruesome task but a logical one and so the friends help each other before repeating the maneuver with the deceased orc including taking his thumbs.

During this, Anvindr’s turret has been shooting non-stop at the impromptu dam but made absolutely no headway as the pileup of rocks and debris is too great.

Taking the turret and continuing up to the other side, the trio now see that the water is being diverged down the other slope of the mountain’s shoulder. There, they also find the remains of Bennet and his men, repeating the stripping of cloaks and armours as best as they can before making it onto the dam proper.

Where they stop.

Maybe the figure has been there the entire time and they just hadn’t noticed because whoever it is is moving in a crouch or maybe the person has only just arrived. Either way, there’s someone wearing an old cloak that’s seen better days, working their way down the length of the dam, pausing at times to do something. Whoever it is, is smaller than the orcs and also not dressed as one of them, but rather much more human.

The trio exchange glances, preparing themselves for another bout of combat while hoping for the best.

“Excuse me?” Anvindr calls out, slowly nearing with Zilvra in tow.

The person straightens up for a moment, turning to regard them without a word. They wear a wooden mask, obscuring their face completely, and worn armour that seems familiar.

For a moment the parties regard each other, then the stranger returns to doing whatever they were doing.

A bit confused but feeling slightly more at ease, the trio step closer.

“What...what are you doing?” Anvindr asks.

The person waves them closer, holding out a tube of something before pouring it into a crack in the dam. When Anvindr reaches them fully, they place a little bit of the tube’s content on a rock before igniting it with their tinder, causing a tiny explosion and a lot of smoke to billow up.

“You’re blowing up the dam!” the genasi guesses, earning a nod.

The silent stranger thrusts a head tube into the tinkerer’s hands, pointing him along the dam, clearly intending for him to help with the preparations.

As they work, they talk – or rather, Anvindr talks and the ally gestures – and among other things, the trio learn that the gear that had looked familiar is indeed Stouvanian. Old Stouvanian. The person also admits to not being affiliated with the country anymore and actually preferring it that way, but looks to be unaware of the Masons. They also communicate that they are heading north for more black powder after this.

When all the preparation has been done, the trio and the stranger all take cover, hunkering down as best as they can and hoping for the best as their unforeseen ally lights a long fuse.

It’s not so much one explosion as much as a series of them, each greater than the one before. Rocks and other debris is sent high up into the air only to come crashing down again, often much too close to the trio for comfort. Also the smell is horrible, but it’s worth it because when they all peer out through the smoke as it wafts away, they see the water is returning to it’s original course.

Coming over to the trio, they can hear a soft laughter coming from behind the mask of the stranger who squats down and draws a crude map on the ground. With hand gestures, they make it evident that this depicts the north and Morella gets a thumb up when she guesses that a circle is Kel’Alora. Then the stranger makes a cross not to far from the elven capital and in jagged letters writes: “TEGNOOLIGI”.

Getting up, they wipe the map away with a foot, then gives five tubes of black powder to Anvindr who surprised but delighted accepts.

“Will you come with us?” the genasi asks hopefully only to have his hope dashed by the shake of a head. “That’s alright. You probably want to remain secret.” At this, the person nods. “We won’t tell anyone about you.”

They watch the former Stouvanian head off northwards before the trio gather their own things and continue back the way they’d originally come.

It’s already late and traversing the mountain path in the dark after a battle would be foolish, so the trio doesn’t get far before they find a nook to rest in. They don’t dare light a campfire, curling up as close to each other as they can for heat instead.

Morella is the one to take first watch this night and it isn’t long before she senses movement in the dark. Waking Zilvra, they quietly agrees that this could be an orc (the size of the dark figure matches), so they wake Anvindr to take on the threat but by then the figure runs off.

“Doesn’t seem wise to stay put,” Anvindr yawns.

And with that, they head off again. Tired. Exhausted. Forcing their way through the rough terrain, the trio eventually reach the abandoned mine at the base of the mountain when a voice can be heard from behind them. Mocking, laughing, the orc taunts the trio but they know better than to pick a fight with an unknown number of orcs during the dead of night and so Morella transforms into a horse and motion for her friends to climb on. Just as they set off at a gallop, a large and glowing hammer appears from the darkness, barely missing the trio before turning in its trajectory and returning to its owner.

Morella must be given credit: she keeps the pace for as long as she can but even with her speed, they don’t make it back to Silver Keep by the time her magic fades, returning her to her humanoid shape.

“I don’t know if they’re following us,” Zilvra is straining her eyes to peer into the darkness.

“Then we keep going,” the druid pants.

And so they do.

---

The sun has long since risen without a sign of any orcs by the time the gates of Silver Keep comes into view, causing the trio to sigh in relief. The river is streaming through the city as it ought to but truly the friends are in no condition to enjoy the sight: they are exhausted, dirty, and still beaten up from the battle the day before.

Reaching the gates, the guards thankfully recognize them despite their horrible appearance...and the recognize the surplus gear the trio is carrying, taking it for repairs and to honour the dead in the way they might find appropriate.

“We’ll send word to Campbell. Go rest,” one of the men says.

Simply nodding, the friends trudge to the Ivy End, dragging themselves over the threshold and scaring the life out of Kathy when she sees them.

“Oh my!” she squeaks. “Better get some food and rest. Here,” she hands Morella a key, “same room as last time. I’ll be right up with food and stuff.”

This time they manage a ‘thank you’ before moving on to scale the stairs.

In this manner, it’s not long after the friends are in the room, barely shedding their gear, before Kathy comes bustling with water for washing and a large tray of hearty breakfast. She leaves them to get sorted and get some sleep but even so, after a moment she returned with a message from Campbell that he would like to see the once they’ve rested.

[danielfeketewrites]

DOCTOR WHO TOP 10 - 2nd Doctor

Ah, my fave Doctor. My 10 favourite stories with him. Keep reading!

10. The Land of the Blind

A nice comic book with a cool twist. I dunno, as a fan of 8th Doctor's DWM run, I have a soft spot for Scott Gray's Doctor Who.

9. The Abominable Snowmen

I really like The Abominable Snowmen. Heck, I think it's a lot more interesting story than The Web of Fear. The setting, the characters, the atmosphere... It all just really works. The Intelligence is a wonderful villain and the Yetis are really cuddly.

8. The Bringer of Darkness

Admission: I'm not a big fan of Fury. I get why everyone likes it, but I just can't get behind how it treats Victoria. While it's admittedly at least "her last story" (something not really afforded to characters like Dodo, Polly, or Ben), but the way she suddenly decides to quit si very... sudden.

This story is short and simple, but manages to do the heavy lifting of "when did Victoria start realising that she doesn't actually want to travel with the Doctor" and... it's really good. I like it very much.

7. The Power of the Daleks

Another admission time - while the animation is great, I might prefer the Loose Cannon reconstruction on this one, as it feels more atmospheric.

But both of these versions are amazing. The David Whitaker Dalek stories just hit differently.

6. The Moonbase

In my bachelor's degree dissertation, I wrote that The Moonbase is the quintessential Base Under Siege story. I stand by that. It's amazing, fun, an upgrade on The Tenth Planet... And it basically invents the Patrick Troughton era. Did I mention how fun it is? Obviously, I have a soft spot for it.

Also, it has the best animation.

5. The Mind Robber

When I first watched The Mind Robber, I didn't get. I didn't get why everyone likes it so much.

I rewatched it a few months ago and fucking loved it. It's funny, creative, inventive... It's such a wonderful, unique story. I love the shit out of it.

4. The Enemy of the World

This story fucks. In the season full of monsters, David Whitaker had the balls to go "you know, what if we just had a dictator that looks exactly like Dr Who? would that be fucked up or what?"

I love David Whitaker. I love Patrick Troughton. I love this serial.

3. The Evil of the Daleks

By this point, I'm not sure what to say about this. I praised Whitaker's Dalek stories overall in the bit about The Power, sooo... What now? Well, I can add that this is the perfect ending for the Daleks, their perfect finale. It's such a rich, wonderful story.

(I haven't seen the animation yet and I'm kinda afraid of it. I hope it doesn't lose the visceral atmosphere that the reconstruction has for me.)

2. Daughter of the Gods

One of the best Big Finish audios of the past decade. You could even argue that it's THE best one.

I fucking love how well this is done. Like, it could have been a vapid, shallow crossover... But it's not. It's built in such a clever way and the focus on Katarina was a stroke of genius. I love it to bits.

1. The War Games

As a pick for my number one Troughton story, it's a bit basic, innit?

Can't help myself. I love The War Games so goddamn much. Watched all of it in one sitting, breathless. It's amazing. People sometimes say "oh, the last episode is good, but the nine episodes before that not so much" - and those people are wrong. This is an increadible epic and probably my favourite thing the series did in the 60s.

I promise my other best story picks aren't that mundane! I promise! They are weird and unusual! I swear!

[wilanserulia]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt 17 - Sally

The council, after what felt like an eternity, was dismissed. Wilan had been offered to take part in the debate in his position as the Warrior of Light, but even though he appreciated the gesture he really didn’t want to have anything to do with politics any more than he already did. The city of Ala Mhigo had been taken, the region of Gyr Albania liberated, yet the matter of who should rise to be the new head of state remained. Some claimed monarchy should be reinstated, while others had had their fill of monarchs after King Theodoric. Wilan felt no need to weigh in on the dilemma, as even if his role in liberating the city had been crucial he still wasn’t an Ala Mhigan citizen. As far as he was concerned, his job there was done.

It was as he was making his way down the paths of the resistance’s camp, Rhalgr’s Reach, that a friendly face accosted him. Wilan recognized the guy at once: a young man, with wide shoulders and a heart of gold, and a conspicuous cross on his face hiding, he had heard the story, a nasty scar. He greeted him with a tired smile. “Arenvald, hey.” “Wilan! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The young man said enthusiastically, skipping the courtesies. “I have an idea.” “Ah, if only you had come look for me during the council.” Wilan joked, patting his back friendly and encouraging him to keep talking as they walked. “That would have been a good reason to excuse myself from the proceedings.” Arenvald glanced back at the war tent, smiling in solidarity. “They’ve got you involved in politics, eh?” “Urgh.” Wilan answered, eloquently.

To anyone else, on any other day, he would have been a little more proper. But Arenvald deserved at least that much honesty. Not only he was an Adventurer like him, not only he was one of the Scions, but he was also blessed with the Echo. Which meant he, much like him, was one of the few people in the Realm to whom the powers of Eorzea could come to when a Primal was on the loose. They had shared the battlefield often enough that he was willing to hear what he had to say, no matter how much he just wanted to go and have a nap.

“I hear you. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that we were adventurers before being Scions. But that’s exactly why I came looking for you.” “What, do you want to found Ala Mhigo’s first Adventurers’ Guild? Because if so you should go ask Lyse, not me.” “Oh, nothing so ambitious. I mean proper adventuring. After routing the imperials and liberating Ala Mhigo, I reckon we've earned a bit of respite, don't you?” His cheerful voice betrayed his eagerness to share his idea, and Wilan was intrigued. “What did you have in mind?” He flashed him a mad grin and rounded an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. “Listen... how much do you know about the King of Ruin?” “More than I wish.” he replied with a sigh. King Theodoric and his madness had been the object on a lengthy dissertation that morning. “So you also know the treasures he amassed before being assassinated were never found?” Arenvald followed up. If he had eyebrows, he’d be wiggling them.

Wilan replied a long moment later, with a glint in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you know where to look for it?” “Me and all of Gyr Abania. I mean, it’s got to be somewhere below the royal palace. But with the Garlean army it wasn’t like we could just go and look for it.” Arenvald replied frankly. “Granted, we won't be the first to make the attempt. Following Ala Mhigo's liberation, more than a few eager soldiers turned the palace upside down in hopes of claiming an easy fortune, but so far no one has uncovered a single coin.” “Yeah, but they weren’t us.” Wilan replied proudly, unable to resist the call to adventure. “No offense to the common soldiers, but we’re professional adventurers.” The Gyr Abanian man grinned from ear to ear. “So, shall we go adventuring?” “Twist my arm, why don’t you!” the adventurer from Limsa Lominsa answered, barely able to contain his own enthusiasm. “Just the two of us?” “So far yeah. I wanted to ask you first. But I also had half a mind to inform Master Leveilleur as well.” “Hm.” Wilan considered the idea for a moment. “Yeah, why not. I’m sure Alphinaud can use the chance to stretch his legs. And it wouldn’t hurt him to be in a proper adventure.” Arenvald pumped his fist. “Let’s go round him up and let’s set off then!”

[rpfofficial]

oohhh summer camp!! that’s so fun! i hope you have the most wonderful time there hehe. i’m glad you’ve been doing well <333

i am entering a bit of a recovery phase tbh, 4th year was rough (academically and personally) but yesterday after sending off my dissertation i went to the park and started reading a book and write in my notebook and it was just. so good. because reading and writing have just been impossible for me for a long time. so i’m just looking forward to finding myself again after the absolute mess that were the last two years. also i have to find a job, which i’m hoping to get sth in a lab, but a librarian friend of mine also keeps recommending me jobs at the library so that i have something in case it takes longer to find an entry-level lab job (which is likely). anyway it’s a little scary i’ve always been a student and now that’s just. over.

that sounds a little bleak so i’m also gonna tell you some good things:

i have a mullet now. a proper ash from supernatural mullet, not one of those baby mullets

i worked in a lab for a few months and it was such a good experience! it confirmed to me that yes i do want to work in a lab in the future it’s where i belong!

what’s been keeping me going throughout is rapper sword dancing though! look it up you won’t regret it, it’s an old miner’s dance with funky bendy swords and weaving through fun figures. i recommend you watch some videos i can’t explain it otherwise. look up black swan, they’re insanely good and also look very intimidating (won this year’s DERT, annual rapper tournament). other fun teams to look out for are mons meg (not as polsihed but VERY worth looking at), gaorsach (fun chaos), sheffield steel (just. GOOD), northgate, and sallyport (specifically their DERT 2024 showcase for silly vibes)

anyway. that was my little infodump. i’ll probably start playing disco elysium this summer

ah this is all sounds wonderful!! i totally get the feeling of needing to recover, i hope you do get that rest and recovery and it sounds like you had a great day yesterday<3 im also finally getting back into writing after pretty much a whole year of feeling dry and unmotivated....so yay recovery! and ive been in a reading slump for ages but once i finish the 3 books i have on the go at the moment, i plan on reading 20 books over the summer <- achievable cos i read fast and have a lot of free time, but still wishful thinking...

good luck with the job finding! i hope u get to work in a lab cos i definitely sounds like a dream suited perfectly to you, but you would also be a great librarian thats another thing i think youd be perfect for. also proud of you for the mullet. business up front, party in the back <3

and now. i just went down a mini rabbithole of rapper sword dancing and oh my fucking god??? i watched a few black swan performances and literally sat there openmouthed for a full 5 minutes . they are so intricate and clever and graceful and THE FLIPS?? FLIPPING OVER THE SWORDS??? MULTIPLE TIMES????? this is insane im going to immediately go watch more of this thank you for opening my eyes

also that last sentence in this ask made me grin like a maniac please do play disco elysium it will change your life youre seriously going to love it 😁😁😁😁😁😁

[mademoiselle-red]

Reading the Renault fandom dissertation, part 2

An academic decided to write about us, online fans of Mary Renault’s works, for her phd dissertation in 2018, and as the subject of her research, I will be covering & commenting on what she wrote over a series of posts this weekend ✍️📑

(You can read part 1 here, as well as part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6)

Here is part 2. We resume with more theorizing about the audience of BL and Renault’s works, towards the end. [Content warning for transphobia]

“the premise of BL remains the same: a fantasy genre that resists social and political consequences of its desires and representations. Not only has BL not evolved into a “queer” genre or subculture, but contrary to recent critiques, BL in fact operates on the very opposite end of what queer represents and aspires to achieve in current academic and activist climates”

Idk man, BL is a part of my experience of queer culture. Queer culture isn’t all activism and parties with academics. BL and slash fandoms are, as of right now, my preferred means of participating in queer culture, in a community of queer and straight women and men.

“Participation in a subculture such as Boys’ Love involves similar combinations of consumption, recreation, and circulation, but it also entails affective engagement with the material through fantasizing, socializing, and fantasizing socially with other fans. This affective engagement of BL fans is central to my argument about BL not just as a mode of reading but also as a rerouting of sociality through fantasy: women (re)creating and exchanging fantasies about love between men generates a unique subculture where male homoeroticism consolidates female homosocial/homoerotic bonding.”

You are so close to getting it (for some of us!). Like, I actually met my girlfriend through BL/slash fandom, so it’s definitely also “homosexual” bonding for me 🥰

“BL fans use the self-deprecating term “rotten” to describe themselves because they recognize what they practice—erotic fantasy that involves gender and sexual others—to be an abnormal and unseemly business. This is what ultimately distinguishes BL from “gay literature” despite their formal resemblance”

Ah yes, because gay lit wasn’t stigmatized at all. Ever. 🙄

When discussing BL and queerness, the author asks:

“Can a genre with creators and readers of heteronormative identities and where the depiction of sexual dissidence is predicated on the erasure, even denigration of those identities be “queer”?”

Which is again making lots of assumptions about the creators’ and readers’ identities!

“In addition to the concern with relationality within the text, another form of relationality exists outside, or more accurately, across the BL text. Joanna Russ’ famous epithet for slash—���pornography by women, for women, with love”—already hints at the erotic potential that slash facilitates for the relationship between women. In a genre where women produce erotic content expressly with women readers in mind, and where the readers are then inspired to adapt, recreate, and generate new erotic fantasies that energize the community at large, it is limiting to define the women involved as heterosexual simply by their relationship with the male figures on the page.”

Yes! I agree! WHY DON’T YOU JUST ASK US IF WE ARE QUEER??? We know from later chapters that you were lurking around tumblr 👀👀👀

“Arguments about fujoshi as a sexual identity rather than a taste have been made before about fujoshi as a transgender identity, in the sense that they are “gay men trapped in a woman’s body.” The argument is first made by Sakakibara Shihomi, who is herself a writer of novels with BL themes. In Yaoi genron: yaoi kara mieta mono [Yaoi theory of fantasy: what yaoi reveals] (1998), Sakakibara made the bold claim that herself included, many yaoi (BL) fans are in fact psychologically MTF gay men, and yaoi fantasy is the medium through which they project both their desire and their discomfort with their bodies.”

Cites a trans man who writes BL because he is gay. Proceeds to dismiss and misgender him. 🤦‍♀️

“In her discussion of BL as a virtual lesbian community, Mizoguchi does not emphasize the significance of the textual fantasy being exchanged as male homosexual. Indeed, it could be argued that any community where women create erotic content for women is a virtual lesbian community. But as stated above, the unique lack of distinction between creator and consumer in BL subculture allows the relationship between participants to be more of an exchange than a unidirectional reception. […] In terms of creating erotic content, a community of women who produce lesbian erotica with women audience in mind is more likely a matter-of-fact lesbian community—there is neither anything “virtual” about its lesbianism nor any need to theorize it as lesbian.”

Acknowledges that queer women who create and exchange sexual fantasies with other women may be engaging in a form of lesbian flirting. Proceeds to tell us we are Doing Lesbianism Wrong. 🤦‍♀️

“In the following chapters, I examine literary texts that have not previously been read in the context of fantasy, much less in the context of BL—women’s fantasy of male homoeroticism. Placing the pleasure back in moving across identity categories, in restoring the continuum between homosociality and homosexuality, in disidentification and desubjectivation, and in the line of flight from the here and now, I examine the writings of and about Mary Renault and Marguerite Yourcenar through their relationality with otherness.”

A yes, two bi women in lifelong committed lesbian relationships are great examples of heteronormative women writing “non-gay” BL.

[edit: A comment pointed out to me that Renault never said she was bi. We only have evidence that she did not identify with the “lesbian” label.]

And that concludes the “introductory” chapters, where the author laid out her central arguments, methodology, and analytical frameworks. In the next part, we will focus on the “fun” bit: the chapters specifically about Renault and her fandom 👀

More in part 3

[sendpseuds]

The people must know: What are your favorite sandwiches???

Ah, sandwiches. What a magical food.

Since you graced us all with a whole dissertation I feel like I owe you the same level of detail, let’s see what we can do here.

While I am not actually vegetarian, I LOVE a veggie sandwich. One of my all time favorites to make at home is seeded rye with hummus on one side and homemade herby cream cheese on the other [usually parsley, green onion, mint, dill, and fresh garlic. Also sometimes this is chèvre instead of cream cheese]. Between the bread we have sliced cucumbers [seasoned with salt, pepper, and lemon juice], big slices of tomato, and arugula [sprouts if I can get my hands on them]. This whole ordeal is fabulous with turkey or bacon if you want more protein, I’ve also done smashed chickpeas in place of the hummus for a heartier option.

Another veggie sandwich I love is from a local bakery and if I knew exactly how they made it I would tell you, but it’s fresh crusty sourdough liberally coated in amazing olive oil, with this incredible carrot purée, thinly sliced fennel, Calabrian chilis, and arugula. So fucking good.

Okay, let’s talk about something less “healthy”

If you’ve ever been to Buffalo, New York [Go Bills] there are TWO sandwiches that I think about all the time.

The first is pretty ubiquitous through western New York: Beef on Weck. This is roast beef, dipped in hot jus, and piled on a kimmelweck roll [basically a Kaiser roll with crunchy sea salt and caraway seeds]. That’s it. Personally, I like to add an almost unadvisable amount of horseradish, but that’s it. It’s perfect.

The second is a true drunken indulgence. The Stinger Hoagie from Jim’s Steakout. If you are unfamiliar with Jim’s, most locations are open until 5am [bars in Buffalo close at 4am. A real drinking town] and the employees can often be seen wearing shirts that say “I see drunk people.” The Stinger Hoagie is their beautiful monster. Cheesesteak meets chicken finger sub. Shaved steak, chicken fingers, fried onions, melted American cheese, lettuce, tomato, Frank’s Red Hot, and Jim’s special sauce. [I am fucking drooling right now, I haven’t had one of these since I was in my twenties.]

When it comes to deli meat, I tend to lean toward turkey, but I want some really soft seeded multigrain bread with crispy Romain and good tomatoes. Thick slices of sharp sharp cheddar, mayonnaise, and Nance’s Sharp and Creamy mustard. I might toss in some cucumber or parsley, maybe apples and bacon if I’m feeling extra, but the specific mustard is very important.

[this isn’t really a sandwich but I’ll often take a big rib of Romaine lettuce and make a little deli boat with turkey, cheese, and Mayo. I’m sure I can blame that on high school, my mother, and all the lovely disordered eating habits I developed as a teen]

Grilled cheese… I’m sort of all over the place with grilled cheese, always experimenting, but for me, the most important thing is using GRATED CHEESE [and to be clear, I mean block cheese that you grate at home, not the pre-grated stuff in the bag, please, this is important, that shit doesn’t melt right] I want the cheese pouring over the sides of the bread, hitting the pan, oozing and bubbling until it’s gold and crispy and perfect.

I’ll give you one fancy grilled cheese: deviled egg grilled cheese. Two hard boiled eggs, whites sliced thin, yolks mixed with mayo, mustard, pepper, paprika, dill. Into the pan goes bread, cheese mixture [gruyere and cheddar, shredded and mixed with a little Mayo and mustard], yolk mixture, sliced whites, more cheese mixture, bread. Done.

This is getting out of control and I haven’t talked about chopped italian sandwiches, or banh mi, or my mom’s famous roast beef and mock Boursin sandwiches, or my obsession with Calabrian chilis [oh! Add those to the mayo on a turkey sandwich], or the time I put an entire meatloaf on an entire loaf of bread and called it a sandwich.

I haven’t even TOUCHED on breakfast sandwiches but if I get into that we’ll be here forever.

So, for now, I’ll cap it there, but there’s plenty of room for a sequel.

Hope that answers your question!