#apparently i feel very strongly about this

[average-mako-enjoyer]

I keep thinking about Kaidan's character arc and how important his struggle with survivor's guilt is to it.

The whole trilogy literally begins with him losing his subordinate (Jenkins) for the first time, and it obviously hits him hard.

Kaidan is the head of the Marine detail on the Normandy, which means that every Marine on board, their safety and comfort is his responsibility. Sure, the Normandy is the new ship, but you can't just put a bunch of people on board and sail them off on their first mission. It takes a lot of preparation and team building to make that work, so realistically, before Jenkins' death, Kaidan spent weeks and weeks with these guys, trying to make a connection and get them to trust him (with their lives).

He spent every day of the week with these guys, and he was the one who comforted them after Jenkins' death, both as their officer and as someone who was present when Jenkins was killed and as someone who literally pronounced him dead. The whole brunt of this fell on Kaidan's shoulders because Shepard was unconscious after the contact with the beacon, and that's another reason for Kaidan to feel terrible about the whole event: He not only lost his subordinate during this mission, he almost lost his commanding officer, and now he has to explain it all to Anderson and the crew. It's brutal.

Also, the way he talks about the whole event afterwards is very telling. He says: "I served for years, but never lost a soldier under my command. Not to hostile action, anyway." There's a trauma here. What kind of action did you lose soldiers to, Kaidan?

And after all that, he loses Ashley, who is also a soldier under his command, and also Jenkins' replacement on board.

Kaidan asks, "How could we just leave her down there?" and "Why me? Why not her?" And when Shepard says it was their call, Kaidan says, "If I had done my job, you wouldn’t have had to make that call."

He blames himself for this situation, he feels survivor's guilt, and you can only imagine how much worse it gets when Shepard tells him to evacuate with the crew after the Normandy is attacked by the Collectors. Kaidan follows that order and survives. Shepard does not.

In ME2, that same guilt is absolutely part of why Shepard's betrayal hurts him so much. Not only because Kaidan (or Ashley), unlike every other ME1 squadmate, actively went looking for Shepard and made a lot of personal sacrifices to make that meeting possible (I need to write a separate post about that, don't I?), not only because Kaidan is apparently not worthy enough to be contacted by Shepard, but also because Kaidan did not protect Shepard, and now Shepard is with the enemy.

And then ME3 happens, and Kaidan's students go MIA, and they die, and he has to deal with that same guilt again. I feel very strongly that all these years after Shepard's death, he has tried to do his job well enough so that nobody has to make tough calls, but this war is just one big tough call, and he tries to deal with that fact, and he struggles terribly (especially in the deleted scene).

Kaidan's whole journey through the Reaper War is about trying to deal with the absolute loss of control and the guilt. He didn't save Jenkins, he didn't save Ash, he didn't save Shepard's life, and he didn't save Shepard from Cerberus, and he didn't help Shepard with the Collectors.

And now he can't help his students, and he can't even help his mother, but maybe he can finally help Shepard and be there for Shepard in her last moments, and he comes to terms with that ("We both know this is goodbye."; oh, the way his voice breaks in that moment...). But then Shepard leaves him again, and there's nothing Kaidan can do about it. Absolutely nothing.

Ouch.

[nrc-asteryn-crew]

Aros narrowed his eyes at the phantom's words, more specifically the slight difference in its voice. That was more Yuna just now, he was sure of it. Something they'd said had to have garnered enough of a reaction for Yuna to address it personally. Though, because of a certain... companion of his... it was hard to tell whether that was a good thing, or not.

"Are you stupid?! Why else would we be here if not to snap you out of it, hah?! You won't be able to care unnecessarily about the how stupid fucking people have treated you in the past like that if you're dead!"

Yuuto shouted, agitated by the way things seemed to be going. This phantom was pissing him off. Not that he could tell you exactly why. It greatly irritated him that this phantom seemed to be more passive than all the others. Where was the fun in that?!

He ignored the brief, stinging feeling in his chest he felt listening to the words it spoke.

"...If you can appreciate offers of comfort, it means that comfort and support in this manner is something you desire, strongly enough to address it like this, no? So why is it that when given to you, you reject it? Is there ever really a 'too late' to receive something you still long for to this extent?"

Aros asked, not making any moves to advance physically. If there was a chance this conflict could be resolved without a physical fighting, he'd take that chance. Since the phantom didn't seem keen on fighting them, more so than just keeping them out, it would be wise to prevent Yuna from performing any actions through her phantom that may increase her mortality risk.

Yuuto sent a glare in Aros' direction, very clearly disappointed at the loss of a chance to fight, but he just scoffed, and promptly looked away, choosing to engage with Xen instead quietly, at least briefly, who fluttered his wings happily at the attention.

---

"No, I-"

Kiyuu started, before pausing, falling silent. Stepping forward, not feeling like shouting out her words, she wracked her brain with anything to say that wouldn't make anything worse than it already was.

"...I don't- I don't want to tell you anything. You don't deserve to be scolded, nor fought. Self-isolation is never a path you should feel you have to take, and I'm sorry everything's turned out like this. You- You're someone worth saving, and-"

She continued, desperately trying to get her thoughts in order. She stopped, after rambling for a bit, having finally noticed the slight wetness of her eyes, a mix of both her nerves and her empathy. It was smudging the eyeliner she'd had put on earlier, and as instinctively reached to wipe her tears, she only panicked more as her fingers returned stained black. It was too familiar.

She took a breath and forced herself to continue.

"Whatever's wrong, whatever- whatever's making you feel this way, I- I want to help. I don't- I don't know what you've been through- or- or what it's like in your shoes, nor do I want to- force you to do anything- but... is there- is there anything I can do to- to support you at all?"

"...Oh gods- that sounded so corny and fake didn't it..? And pushy- oh Jesus-! It's- It's just what came to my head-! Aaaah I've so already messed everything up, haven't I?!"

She mumbled to herself, burying her face in her hands, already feeling a very apparent amount of second-hand embarrassment. She really did mean everything she'd said, and she'd stand by it, but sometimes she really wished she was just a little better with words...

A notification flashes across phone screens everywhere throughout NRC. The radio podcast, NRTea has gone live once more!

"Hello, hello, dearest listeners! And welcome to another episode of NRTea, the hottest tea party on sages island! I'm your host, Chamomile-"

"and I am Earl Grey"

"And oh boy do we have a story for you today! Take it away, Earl!"

"...alright.

As of late, there have been brambles spiralling up and encasing parts of the Ramshackle dorm. The brambles themselves seem generally harmless, as do the roses that fall from them, but if you prick yourself on the thorns, it would be quite an unpleasant sensation, so I'd suggest exercising some extra caution when visiting for now."

"Yup, yup! If you've got a friend or two living in the dorm out there, go check on em and make sure they're doing okay!"

"I know I myself must check in on my dearest companions soon..."

"Well that's it for now! We've been your hosts, Chamomile-"

"And Earl Grey,"

"And this has been NRTea. Stay thirsty, dear listeners!"

The stream continues on for a bit before cutting off, though.

"Hey... James?"

"Yes?"

"Y'know how Yuna has been locking up lately and stuff? Says she's been super sick recently."

"Mhm... It's quite concerning, if I am being honest. I haven't seen her for a while..."

"...I wonder if Yuna is alright. I hope she doesn't get hurt with all those brambles."

"...Me too, Lewis. Me too."

(✨YUNA OVERBLOT STUFF YAHOO!!!

-✨mod, @night-raven-miscellany. Technically James and Lewis, too, but I haven't been adding them fhdjfj)

Kiyuu stared down at her phone with a frown as the podcast ended. She didn't say anything, prompting Aros to speak up from behind her.

"...Lucky you haven't been over there for a while, isn't it?"

He spoke, giving Kiyuu a faint smile, leaning in just a little closer while dabbing a makeup brush into the eyeshadow pallette in his hand, before applying it, making slightly quicker movements than previously, already being able to tell what Kiyuu was thinking.

They both knew the signs by now from even just a glance. With the context the podcast had accidentlly given... Something bad was about to happen. That much they could tell.

His expression morphed back into a frown as he watched how Kiyuu's face seemed to go through a cycle of conflicting emotions, confirming what he'd thought.

"...Yuuto's close by, though. And he definitely won't hesitate to head straight for Ramshackle once he suspects something's happening..."

There was more silence, only disturbed by the quiet sounds of rummaging through makeup and supplies from Aros. They'd been in the middle of testing out some makeup samples Aros had been sent for a promotion when they'd decided to tune into NRTea's podcast in the background.

"...Would you like me to quickly finish applying your makeup before we go?"

Aros offered, picking up an eyelash curler, and tilting Kiyuu's head up gently with his pointer finger.

"But-"

"Ah- Let me finish now. If you're worried about time, I'll change up our plan, do something quick, yet effective, instead. Don't stress out more than you need to. It won't do you any good."

"Mmh... Okay then. I'd- really like that. Thank you..."

Kiyuu conceeded softly, a silent exchange of gratitude from Kiyuu between them, Aros nodding in response, expression neutral as he continued.

"...Heh. I bet he's real excited right now. I worry a lot for him when he does this sort of thing, y'know. Just doing whatever he wants with no consideration to anyone else's feelings..."

Kiyuu mumbled, an underlying bitterness that she never quite felt wholeheartedly in her voice.

"That's just how he is. The only thing for us to do now is help them both out, hm?"

"Ah- right..! Yuna, I heard their name was, I think... I hope they're alright..."

"As do I."

Aro's commented as he stood, reaching instinctively for his hand mirror, handing it to Kiyuu as he hastily, yet still neatly, tidied up his supplies.

"Satisfactory?"

He asked, turning his head around to gauge Kiyuu's opinion.

"Yeah! More than, for sure."

Kiyuu agreed, handing back the mirror. She felt a little better now, the familiar feeling of her makeup calming her nerves ever so slightly.

After a few short moments she stood, hastily reaching to fix up her hair into a more practical fashion.

"Okay! Okay. Let's go! We shouldn't waste anymore time."

She announced, projecting bounds more confidence than she actually felt.

"Yes, let's. Perhaps we'll even arrive before anything too disastrous occurs on either party's end..."

Aros responded. Though somehow, they both doubted that much of a miricle would happen for them today...

[smoxensweetpea]

Alright, now let’s talk about this:

Um, excuse me sir but that is incorrect. You, as Ten, didn’t have vanity issues.

You’re old here and you think you’re going to die for good and it’s been hundreds of years… blah blah blah. Is that any excuse for this blatant rewriting of history? No.

(Couldn’t you have just said “it was a whole thing”? Then we wouldn’t need this rant! But here we go.)

Remember Rose, Doctor? Remember the pink and yellow human who joined you after the Time War and brought light and joy back into your heart? Who made you laugh and smile again? Who made you say “if I believe in one thing, I believe in her”?

And remember when you regenerated from Nine to Ten in front of her?

You would have given her this if you could have. In a heartbeat. You spent practically that whole Christmas trying to get her to like the new you! And she did, she loved you as Ten. And you lost her. You were torn apart against your will. She was devastated. You mourned her.

Then you finally get her back, just a glimpse, and you are shot down before you can even hug her.

So you regenerated and you kept your face and you played it off as vanity.

Well done. It’s almost as if you have hundreds of years experience deflecting emotions with humor. But it was so much more than that!

After everything that had happened you couldn’t put her through that again! You couldn’t put yourself through it!

Regeneration is still like dying. “Everything in me dies. Some new man goes sauntering away”. It might have been easier for Ten to be someone else. To be somewhat removed from all the emotions he had wrapped up in this woman. But he couldn’t do that. Not if he could help it. Not even to save himself some sliver of pain if and when it ended again. To deprive Rose, and himself, of this reunion would have been cruel. This time he could give her what he couldn’t last time… her Doctor.

What I’m saying is, Doctor, as you look back on your lives maybe don’t forget the people who meant so much to you. And don’t cheapen the times you were able to give someone (including yourself) something they needed.

/rant

[jpg-of-dorian-slay]

hits different is so very jesper at wylan

[dukeofthomas]

"He hurts you because he loves you" classic excuse for abuse, not an interesting angle to go at a story with, boring, annoying, makes me hate anyone who says this shit. "He loves you but he still hurt you" beautiful, amazing, empowering. Love is not a pure, good, flawless emotion, actions matter more than intent, and caring for someone doesn't mean you can't or won't hurt them, and in my opinion, it makes hurting them worse.

[tymptir]

personals are really testing me lately . . . do I actually have to add to my pinned post and every last wishlist and headcanon post that people may not reblog this ? before I even had my first cup of coffee ?

[shineyma]

the number of posts that go around the batfandom that can basically be boiled down to "people aren't writing about the character I want them to write about so I'm gonna shame them"

good lord

[buysomecheese]

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH THE DNDADS CHARACTER BLOGS RN. WHAT. HELLO. GUYS. WHAT.

[jaratedeguadalupe]

i type like my organs are failing and i like to think virgil does too

[sunfoxfic]

we were talking about fanfiction in my composition theory class and the teacher (who has CLEARLY been on AO3 btw. I would place so much money on her having an account) was talking about how bad it sometimes is and one person didn't understand what fanfiction was and we were explaining it to him. One of the other girls who knew what fanfic was said, "It's where you marry Harry Styles." I added, "Or sometimes get adopted by him" (which freaked out the guy who didn't know what fanfic was). A third girl who knows fanfic added, "Or sometimes get kidnapped by him" which freaked me out a little. Apparently it's a tiktok thing.

[iamanartichoke]

Why is it always the posts you put 5% effort into that go viral.

[mangled-by-disuse]

i just have to rant about the elf on a shelf for a sec

(why? i've never had one, i don't have kids and if i did that wee smug snitching fucker would still not feature in my life. AND YET so many of my parent friends are stressed out of their minds over the damn thing)

but like. I know the obvious (and correct) take is that the elf on the shelf is horrifying because it primes small children to accept constant surveillance as not only normal but positively benign, and the elf on the shelf is a fucking grass.

but I think there are more practical, sometimes more pernicious ways that it affects all aspects of the Christmas season, to whit:

Adding stress. like for fucking real do parents of small children not have enough to do in december must we also make it a social norm to move a doll into interesting places and keep it out of reach of pets and whatever the fuck else.

Making Santa less magical. like ok back in my day Santa did not need to send spies. Santa just knows shit. Santa does not require practical explanations. Santa is a jolly old elf who is slightly less omniscient than Jesus but only because he's seasonal. How does Santa know if you've been naughty or nice if the elves don't tell him? because he's fucking SANTA CLAUS that's it that's the whole reason. stop bringing your empiricism and logic into my childhood whimsy. Also, relatedly:

Giving children a loophole. The elf on a shelf is how Santa knows whether to bring you presents, yes? the elf on a shelf spies on children to feed back to Santa on whether they have been naughty or nice? Q.E.D. if I am sure that the elf is NOT in eyeline, I can be as naughty as I want and Santa will never know. is what I would absolutely have concluded as a child, thereby spoiling any positive behavioural effects of Santa mythos. or i would have attempted to bribe the elf. or... make him go away.

Preparing children for a lifetime of performance evaluations (derogatory). because I want to be clear that I do in fact have a problem with the underlying concept of "he knows if you've been bad or good" in the first place. shut up. another way in which santa is like jesus is that he doesn't actually need to care if you were Good. in my humble opinion Santa Claus doesn't give a fuck about your behaviour he just likes to give presents to children as many lonely old people do. (also binaries of good and bad are pretty harmful actually imo, where is the boundary for "naughty" and does it perhaps undermine the behavioural guidance if you are consistently told that Santa's love is conditional BUT that you have never once failed to pass the conditions? anyway we're getting off the topic at hand.)

Adding yet more plastic tat to the "necessary Christmas traditions" box. yes yes i am decades behind the times in complaining about the commercialisation of christmas. but i am also passionately frustrated by it. ooh we must have chocolate advent calendars (plastic trays)! we must have an elf on the shelf! we must go to a christmas market and buy more tat! let's have a christmas eve box and a (plastic) ugly christmas jumper and fucking. christmas earrings we'll wear one day a year and then lose. more! more christmas tat!!! MORE, I SAY!!!

Why he look like that?

it's such a punchable face. and yet, too small to punch. i see your unseemly enjoyment of your espionage, you perverted wee fucker. you delight in the suffering of overworked parents and overseen children alike. you disgust me.

anyway fuck elf on a shelf end broadcast

[alg3a]

muffins

viktor x f! reader

3.8k, MDNI, no use of (y/n)

description: Viktor had been so kind as to agree to help you out with your midterm prep, so you thought baking him muffins would be a great way to repay him. However, an accidental secret ingredient gets in the way of studying.

warnings: Age gap, roomie smut, more story than smut, p in v, sex pollen/serum (with pretty explicit consent), overall jolly good fun, no harm no foul, yippee!

a/n: inspired by @the-hidden-pages story, Human Testing because it’s one of the first viktor x reader fics i ever read and i STRONGLY recommend!

Any student should feel lucky to have the smartest men at the academy as their roommates. Being an undergraduate biochem student who had to work to pay her own tuition, going to lecture wasn’t always an option. That’s when you’d bake a tray of brownies or do some extra dishes and call in a favor from one of your roomies.

It happened all the time, which made you incredibly thankful to have one people-pleaser in the apartment. Jayce was always willing to put aside whatever he was doing and help you out on your Arcane Studies homework or your Bioengineering project. Last semester, finals week consisted of the two of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on the rug of the living room, paper scattered all over the floor as you tried to decipher the grading scale of your Organic Chemistry class to see what the lowest grade on the test you could get was and still wind up with a passing grade (something Jayce had done plenty of times in his undergrad years).

Viktor, on the other hand, had gotten somewhat tired of your constant requests for him to backtrack and dive into knowledge he hadn’t tapped for years now. He was never particularly rude about it, but you were very perceptive. When you asked him to repeat an explanation once or twice, you noticed the growing exhaustion on his face that bordered frustration and you stopped asking for his help going forward. It wasn’t to his own fault, you could be pretty needy sometimes, so more often than not, you just asked Jayce.

Only, Jayce was out of town for a Hextech press conference this weekend, the weekend before you had your Arcane Studies midterm. In a heartbreaking display, he had apologized profusely for not being able to help, inches away from getting on his knees and begging for forgiveness. You assured him none of that was necessary, and that you’d just stay up studying in the library or even reach out to your TA (who you’d never even spoken to before in class or outside of it, and who you were certain would be less helpful than Jayce).

To remedy your situation–even though you pinkie promised him you didn’t need him to–he took it upon himself to ask Viktor to help you cram study on Sunday night, the night before your midterm. While Jayce asked, you did your best to listen from your bedroom, the next room over. You heard some grumbling from Viktor and a muffled, yet compelling “She’s our roommate and she bakes us nice things” from Jayce.

Apparently that last bit must have been very rousing, because shortly after, Jayce was at your door telling you that Viktor agreed to a maximum of three hours of cramming that would begin no earlier than eight at night.

You worked for all of Saturday’s daylight hours, and then finalized your experimental serum for your Advanced Biochemistry project. For the biochem class, you’d been studying methods of enhancing senses for the first half of the quarter and your midterm project involved making a serum that could temporarily improve the performance of one human sense. Around three weeks ago, you and your classmates drew topics from a hat and your fingers emerged with “arousal” on a piece of paper. Needless to say, you were concerned. You thought the serum project would be fairly straightforward, and had already brainstormed ideas for vision enhancing serums or hearing aid serums, but arousal? You had to think out of the box for that one.

When you finished up your last touches to the serum, you were left with enough time at night to get ingredients to bake Viktor some muffins as a sign of your gratitude. You got enough stuff for twice as much as you would’ve made for Jayce and actually stuck to the recipe this time. Keeping Viktor happy was a very delicate ecosystem and there could be no tampering.

It wasn’t that he was a grump or even that he hated you, he was just too busy to want to help and too intelligent to want to backtrack. Once he had even looked at what you were studying and said, “I’d have to go too far back to help you.” That was inspiring.

You poured the contents of your tote bag on the counter.

On your better days, you and Viktor actually got along quite well. Those were the rare days when Viktor got more than three hours of sleep and ate a full meal before two pm. In his best conditions, the two of you were good friends.

The best days were when he and Jayce both come home early enough for you to make them a home cooked meal. Then you’d all curl up on the couch and watch a movie. The last time that happened, Jayce picked some superhero movie you’d never heard of and you and Viktor both fell asleep. You woke up the next morning asleep on Viktor’s chest with four blankets piled on top of you both. Jayce said he knew both of you ran cold, so he took the blankets from your beds. You and Viktor never talked about that night.

The exhaustion of your stressful Saturday had leaked into your studying Sunday, and in a tired stupor, you whisked together all the ingredients for the muffins and poured them haphazardly into the mold. They might not look pretty, but at least they’d taste good.

You pulled the freshly baked muffins from the oven and rested them on the stovetop. The sweet aroma of warm blueberry filled the apartment. It must have roused Viktor from whatever he was working on in his room, because he emerged a full quarter of an hour earlier than your agreed upon study time.

“Hey,” you said. “I made you some muffins as a thank you. They’re still hot, though, I wasn’t expecting you for another fifteen minutes.”

“That’s fine,” he said, setting himself at the kitchen table and sipping from a cup of coffee that had been there since Jayce was still in town. “Would you like to begin now?”

You grab all your study guides and homework assignments and your assortment of chicken scratch notes and slide them over to him on the table.

“Are your midterms cumulative?” He asked, finishing the remnants of his cold coffee.

“No,” you answered. Thank God. If you had to remember everything that was in the last midterm you’d be losing your mind right about now. “Everything past Arcane History will be on the test.”

“Mm. I see.”

He scans your notes for another five minutes.

“I’ll quiz you,” he decided, standing up to check on the temperature of the cooling muffins on the stovetop.

“Uh, okay.” You didn’t typically study by being quizzed, especially when you hardly went to lecture and didn’t even know most of the material. But you didn’t want to risk arguing with Viktor and have him decide to take his muffin to-go.

“Tell me why the Arcane can manifest in such unpredictable manners?”

“Because…” you started to think that maybe going to your TA wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Your TA was just a random graduate student. The roommate that was helping you study now was one of the inventors of Hextech, the researcher responsible for some of the greatest advancements in Piltover’s modern understanding of the Arcane. “...it reflects the intentions of the user.”

“Correct,” he says, affording you a rare Viktor smile. “Would you like a muffin?”

You had intended for the muffins to be entirely Viktor’s, but you hadn’t eaten all day and gods, they smelled good. Plus, it was like a reward for getting an answer right.

“Sure, thanks.”

You watch as Viktor plucks two muffins from the tin and comes back to seat himself at the table. He hands one to you and sorts through the papers you’ve scattered on the desk as he brings a small chunk to his mouth. You do the same.

Something tastes slightly off, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s possible the ratio is off, and in your tired state you added too little vanilla extract or too much vegetable oil. Regardless, they’re not bad at all.

“Your notes are a little bit difficult to–” Viktor stops before finishing his sentence. He pulls out a sheet of paper from the pile and reads it, his eyes widening a bit as he does.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“These notes are from your biochem class,” he says, his eyes flickering up to meet yours for just a few seconds over the piece of paper. “This is an interesting assignment…”

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks growing hot. “Sorry, that’s not supposed to be in there.”

You reach out to take the paper from him, but he pulls it back as you do. He’s still reading it. You’d really like him to stop reading about your own aphrodisiac serum, but your embarrassment is a bit unwarranted. After all, you didn’t make the serum because you wanted it, you made it because it was a graded assignment. Nothing more. So what if you did eventually garner interest in the topic. So much interest, in fact, that you did extensive research into the properties your serum could afford and spent long hours in your lab experimenting with it. Shamefully, yes, you had tried some of it. Mainly to test its efficiency but also out of plain curiosity. You had determined that it was safe, most importantly, but you’d also learned that it tasted horrible. To counter that, you’d added some–

“Oh fuck!” You shout as you scoot your chair so far back so quickly that it topples over. You stumble over your bag on the floor as you sprint to the kitchen.

“Is something wrong?” Viktor asks from his seated position.

“Don’t eat the muffin!” You exclaim as you run to the counter space next to the stove, your heart pounding.

You confirm your worst fear. The bottle of vanilla extract you picked up from the supermarket sits on the counter, the protective seal still intact. Your arousal serum, however, is halfway empty a few inches beside the extract.

You turn around slowly to face Viktor.

“It’s a bit late for that,” Viktor says, holding up the half of his muffin that remains. “Did something happen?”

You eye your own muffin on the table, half eaten as well.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you scrambled back toward the table where Viktor sat, the serum held tight by your hand. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

“No,” Viktor says, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

Come on, just get it out already. You have to tell him, it would be morally bankrupt not to.

“I accidentally drugged you.”

Okay, maybe not like that.

Viktor just stared at you, his expression unchanged. You sort of just wished he would yell at you so that you could get the encounter over with, but no such luck. He just sat, unphased, until he picked up the notes he was looking at earlier.

“With this?” He asks. Even his voice is still even. You knew that if the roles had been reversed you would be fracking out, absolutely bouncing off the walls.

“Yes, but don’t worry I’ve done lots of research on this serum,” you say, taking the notes from Viktor and looking them over. You read the list two or three times, scanning for any sort of antidote for ingestion. You saw none. “How could I have not included an antidote?” You mutter, mentally beating yourself up.

“It’s okay,” Viktor said and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up at him from your notes. “It is safe, yes? It won’t kill us?”

“No, it won’t, but it’s a powerful aphrodisiac and I added half the serum to those muffins. If my math is right, you’re taking three times the recommended dosage.”

“But I only ate half the muffin,” Viktor counters. Again, you’re shocked by how unphased he is.

“Okay, then one and a half times the dosage,” you shrug off his comment as you look for anything in your notes that might reveal a way to undo this mess.

“I assume this means you no longer wish to study?” Viktor says.

“How are you so calm about this?” You finally burst out, slamming the paper down on the table to look at him.

Big mistake.

Once you see him, you become lightheaded and your knees buckle beneath you. You have to sit down to stop yourself from falling over.

“Are you alright?” Viktor asks.

“I-I’m fine,” you shake your head in an attempt to get some blood flowing to your brain. No luck.

“Since you’re obviously worked up about this, why don’t you tell me how it works and then we can go from there.”

“It’s a fast acting stimulant,” you say, burying your face in your hands. “The chemistry is irrelevant since I have no goddamn cure for it, but it works the same as any other aphrodisiac. It makes you susceptible to arousal and heightens it by three times at a normal dosage, and in our case… nearly five times.”

“Intriguing,” he says, eyeing the muffin that lays neglected on the table. “Such a strange class project. Aren’t there moral quandaries to be had for such a substance?”

“Yes of course there are, which is why I made it so that it only takes effect if there’s already a degree of attraction in place–”

You shouldn’t have said anything. Especially not when you’re so clearly affected by it in the presence of Viktor. Way to sell yourself out.

“So you’re saying…”

You groan out in frustration, but once you look at Viktor you’re reminded of why you had your face buried in your hands. Somehow every feature of his seems five times more beautiful than you normally regarded them. His perfectly angular nose, his narrowed amber eyes, his messy hair which fell in ways you could never recreate on paper…

“I have a feeling you know exactly what I’m saying.” You squeezed your eyes shut. If you couldn’t see him, he couldn’t torture you.

Or so you thought.

A tantalizing graze of his hand on yours shot shivers down your spine. You pulled away so fast that a few of the papers on the desk shifted from the shear force of the wind.

“Don’t do that,” you seethed, sucked your teeth as you pressed your eyes shut so hard that you saw stars.

“Because…it affects you?” His voice was raspy and slow, or maybe that’s just what the serum was making you hear. Every bit of what he was doing seemed five times as attractive as it would normally be.

You’d done such a good job at hiding your feelings for Viktor for almost a year now. Being roommates with someone you found incredibly attractive was no easy task. And now all of your efforts were thrown out the window because of a stupid baking mishap.

“You’re being cruel,” you furrow your eyebrows as you speak, your voice coming out whinier than you would’ve liked.

“I’m sorry,” he stifles a laugh. “Would you open your eyes?”

“I can’t,” you groan, shoving your hands against your face again. “It’s best if I just go to my room and wait it out. Thank you for trying to study with me but I’m just gonna have to accept a shitty grade tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and pulling them down from your face so that you had to look at him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve taken biochemistry, and I certainly haven’t studied aphrodisiacs, but the effects should go away after the serum is put to use, correct?”

You thought back to your experimentation phase. All the nights you spent alone in your lab trying out the efficacy of the serum resulted in the effects dissipating once climax was reached. It had certainly been the least orthodox experimentation phase you’d ever undergone.

“Yes, that’s correct,” you say reluctantly. It takes every ounce of strength you have not to let your eyes explore Viktor’s face, then his long, narrow neck protruding his sweater, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a deep breath, then the sharp clavicle poking from–

Get yourself together.

“If you’re willing to retake the class–a class you should easily pass, given your access to the two most prevalent scientists in the field–then by all means, go to your room.” Viktor pulls his hands away from you, then picks up the muffin, peeling off the paper from the bottom. He picks off a piece and drops it onto his tongue.

“What are you doing? You’re just going to make it worse!”

He smirks at you, then sets the muffin back down. “It’s a very good muffin. You’re an excellent baker.”

Fuck.

“You’re playing with me,” you shake your head in disbelief.

“No, dearest, I am not playing with you,” he says, standing up from his chair, then moving toward you tantalizingly slow. He takes a seat on the table in front of you, then crosses his hands on his lap. “You’re smart enough to recognize the alternative I am offering to you.”

Your heart stops. You look at his half eaten muffin, although more than half is gone now with the addition of that last bite.

“You…” The idea is almost impossible for you to grasp, let alone put into words. “You want to expedite the process?”

“That’s certainly one way of putting it,” Viktor laughs. He reaches for a strand of your distressed hair and pushes it behind your ear.

“But you’re not even attracted to me!”

“What makes you think that?” Viktor says, retracting his hand, only to place it over yours on the desk.

“Because if you were, you’d be much more affected right now. I mean, look at me!” You gesture to yourself with your free hand. “I’m a mess! I’m on the brink of breaking out in a sweat and my hands are clammy and you’re just sitting there!”

Viktor laughs to himself as if he’s in on some kind of inside joke that you know nothing about.

“I’ve had lots of practice in concealing my excitement around you,” he finally says, slowly, seductively, the words dripping from his chin as his cold eyes bore into you.

“What?”

You know what he said. In fact, you understand it perfectly, but you can’t be sure it actually came from his mouth because it seems so perfectly unreal. So dream-like, so idealistic, so fantastical.

“You’ve done a good enough job at hiding your attraction, too,” Viktor says. “I wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for tonight’s incident. Which is exactly why I’ve felt the need to hide my own.”

“You’ve liked me?”

You still can’t wrap your head around the idea.

“I’ve admired you,” he smiles, rubbing circles on the back of your hand, reminding you just how potent your little sex serum really is.

In fact, it’s so powerful that you hardly have to put any thought into leaping up from your chair and pushing your lips against his. Before you can third guess his affection, his hands are interlaced with your hair, pushing you deeper into his lips as his tongue begs to be let into your needy mouth.

Now it was clear to see how much the serum had actually affected him. In mere seconds, his hands grabbed at your thighs and pulled you up onto the table to straddle him with strength you didn’t even know he possessed. His breathy little moans sent you further into madness and you yanked his sweater off of his head, forcing your mouth off of his for just a few seconds, but once that sweater was off, your lips clung together like magnets.

Deft fingers unbuttoned your long sleeve shirt and he pulled it off your arms so quickly that you worried for a second that he might have ripped it. But you didn't care. You couldn’t possibly be concerned with a silly shirt when Viktor was beneath you on the kitchen table like a meal.

The serum didn’t exactly allow either of your minds to comprehend much foreplay. You fiddled with Viktor’s belt and he pushed your skirt up to your waist. Once both of you were exposed, he didn’t waste any time positioning you above his cock.

“So wet for me,” Viktor whined against your bare chest. “Is that the serum’s doing or is it mine?”

“Yours,” you whimper as Viktor slides his tip beneath your folds. “If it were anyone else in the room with me when I took the serum, I’d be unaffected.”

“I’m flattered,” he smiles cruelly as he thrusts up into you.

“Oh fuck,” you whine as your rest your heavy head on Viktor’s shoulder.

He brings his hands to your waist and guides you up and down as his hips meet your core in long, languid thrusts. The serum sets every single nerve on fire, making it seem as if each of his thrusts has the impact of twenty.

You moan muffled strangulations of his name into his neck, which only urges him to persist with his cruel thrusts. The sound of your cunt being abused fills the kitchen and you’re wildly thankful that Jayce is out of town.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Viktor pants. “You have no idea.”

You really did have no idea. He hid it so well. You silently thanked whatever force had caused you to accidentally throw the serum into the muffin mix.

“So have I,” you whined against his skin. “Fuck…don’t stop…”

Each thrust is punctuated by the creaks of the sturdy kitchen table below you. His motions become quicker, shakier, and more intense and you can tell he’s reaching the end along with you. Your legs begin to shake and you feel that familiar tickling sensation in your core that the serum does a beautiful job at emulating.

“Viktor, I’m close, I’m so fucking close,” you moan as you lift your head from the crook of his neck. You bring your lips to his and he delivers his final thrusts. As he fills you, your moans echo on each other’s lips, a feeling you never thought you’d experience with your own brilliant roommate.

Your breathing steadies and Viktor wraps his arms around you, bringing you close to him as he tries to collect himself as well.

“You…” Viktor pants, “are forbidden from using that kitchen ever again.”

You laugh as you bring yourself off of him, pressing a kiss to his lips as you collect yourself. “That sounds fair to me.”

[soupacool]

new contrapoints was noooot very good imo. like, even just structurally, her point was meandering and unclear until it landed on terf apologia (actually, it's the men's fault that these poor little girls were tricked into campaigning against trans rights) and the edit was extremely low effort and unengaging to me. also the vaush drama was dumb, sloppily inserted, and undermined her whole point about how hateful bigots are not owed civility and reasonable conversation.

[bovineblogger]

Hi Barley!

So apparently people have bred mini micro cows? As house pets? This seems insane to me and I was wondering if you knew anything about that/ had any thoughts on it?

not good!!! very very not good!!

ahhh i try really hard to keep this blog as a positive space but this is a really really important thing to me that i feel really strongly about, and i think id be silly if i didnt at least try to warn people, so here goes!!

cattle are not dogs! please do not keep them as house pets!

cattle have very specific needs and if you're not knowledgeable about those needs and not equipped to raise cattle, please do not keep them. i understand that "micro minis" look cute, i completely understand seeing one and wanting one as a house pet if you're not super knowledgeable about them but i really have to warn you guys that cattle can not be happy and healthy under those conditions!

im going to pass it over to my good friend @horse-reviews for the writeup because im not very good at expressing myself when im frustrated and also he is literally an agriculture science guy so watch this space!

photos from here and here

[mashmouths]

they were so caught up in having a woman wear pants in elizabethan england that they forgot they didn't have to involve antisemitism for historical accuracy's sake. in the witch and vampire show.

so i started this show and it just gets worse and worseeeee not only did it lift the romance subplot directly from twilight (and not well) but they also are trying to play the forbidden love angle hard in the fantasy racism vein except it's a "cross-species" relationship between the two whitest people i've ever seen in my life and there are three people of color in the whole (first season of the) show who aren't villains and it seems that every other episode (and sometimes ebery episode and sometimes twice an episode!) there is a man physically or magically subjugating a woman and i keep waiting for the big reveal at the end to be stolen from fucking rainbow rowell