#i need the dopamine from reading tags

[brown-spider]

Do you see my vision

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[sea-buns]

I've reached a point where I am two eps behind on Burrow's End and it's starting to feel like the point of no return. If I'm not faced with deadline pressure to watch something, I am well and truly fucked. All because I forgot what week the first ep was airing :( and I'd been so hyped :((

[cryptidcorners]

Josh Futturman x Reader Headcanons

= Character: Josh Futturman

= Media: Show!Future Man

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: Just !Platonic & !Romantic mixed Headcanons!

= Request: N/A

= Tags: Fluff ! Headcanons, Shy/Awkward Josh, Romantic + Platonic, Established Relationship, Some Comfort + Reader is !GN

= Warnings: None.

= Please Read my INTRO before interacting !

Josh has always struggled to maintain relationships, including ones with friends. Not only because he's incredibly socially awkward, but his escapism within videogames plays a major factor. So, he treasures what he has with you much more seriously than anyone you knew.

Rambles about his games all the time. His interests are something you can never get him to shut up about. Josh is usually into strategies, lore & development, his favorite being "Biowars", which you already knew had quite the reputation for being a challenging videogame.

He's pretty bubbly, especially around you. Josh is an absolute sweetheart and will get flustered at almost anything. His childish personality roots out much more when you're around, mostly because Josh feels more comfortable.

He isn't very open about his feelings, mostly because he's afraid of losing people. Josh desperately wants to be a part of something and refuses to mess it up somehow. Josh, however, is very different when you're opening up. He'll advise, comfort and try to cheer you up. (It's actually crazy how good his advice is sometimes.)

Josh is content with following you anywhere, as long as it doesn't involve his house or hear his parents. If I'm going to be honest, if he's particularly choosing somewhere to lounge, it'd be an arcade. It's a field where he specializes in and he can impress you easily. It's also somewhere he can discard his low self-esteem and indulge in his skills.

Praise is like a drug to Josh. Compliments or any sight of you liking him (or what he's doing), he feels intense dopamine. He really enjoys making people happy.

He's pretty charismatic sometimes, even when he's not trying to be. Josh is usually awkward when directly talking to somebody with a set question or goal in mind, but when he needs to go with the flow, it's much more grounded. With you in mind, Josh is much more relaxed, so he isn't as shy as he is with strangers.

Wouldn't exactly say he's very affectionate, but he wouldn't mind hugging either. Again, Josh is pretty awkward, and I doubt he rarely showcases soft intimacy around anyone (whenever it's platonic or romantic). He would love to do it, but he's very shy. Though, he isn't afraid to try. If you ask, he's perfectly fine with holding your hand or sitting close.

As I mentioned, Josh is very tentative on affection, especially receiving it, but he loves getting his hair and face touched. Dude needs love.

Digs through your trash. He doesn't have any ill intents, but Josh will take time out of his day to scavenge through waste instead of asking you a minor question. I know I mentioned he's very relaxed around you, but Josh definitely overthinks, especially with relationships. He tries his best.

Will cry real tears of joy if you ever give him something. Josh really appreciates gifts, no matter who it's from. Even if it's not game related, he's definitely holding onto it for a while. (Bonus Points If: It's an animal toy, a decoration or handmade.)

Romantically speaking, he enjoys kissing you or indulging in anything sweet. A lot of giggling & sweet talk. Josh isn't very experienced in relationships like this, so he tried to wing it. Needless to say, he probably gets advice from Google images and it's adorable to see him try his best to impress you.

Will always defend you, even if he fails miserably. Absolute trooper.

Josh will one hundred percent get emotional at any piece of film he is watching with you. Especially if it's a game cutscenes and it involves animals.

Huge softie. I don't think Josh can handle saying anything remotely mean to you or reviving it. If he does, expect a flood of apologies.

Can get way into character sometimes, whatever context this is. You know what I'm talking about.

Very clingy. No other words.

Lastly, he'd definitely call you nicknames in the cutest way possible. If he lets you call him "Joshy", you've probably earned the highest pillar of his trust.

[blissfulip]

Dopamine

On AO3

Viktor x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, idiots in love (?) dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut, masturbation, angry sex, unprotected sex,

Cw: slight spice if you squint, mentions of blood

Words: 2.27k

[A/N: Sorry for taking a century to finish this, I was humbled byt the AO3 writer curse for like a month, thank you for reading! (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in future fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao @queen-of-elves @thedustybunny @syren201 @thayfass

Previous

Chapter 9 (final): can't think of a title

It’s because everything has its own tailored little space, everything is where it’s supposed to be, and I can find every object with a swift look from anywhere within the small cubicle. But to the unknowing eye, the unfamiliar person, this is a faraway place where thoughts can’t sleep and where one needs to swim through a river of trinkets to get to a firm surface. Should I bother to completely clean up or not was a discussion from the past, Viktor will be at the threshold of my domain in less than an hour.

How calm the air was in comparison to the dark storm clouds in my brain. If I clean too much, would it make it seem like I care excessively? But what harm can it do If it does, if I open up to the vulnerable display of cherish and treasure? It shouldn’t do any harm; it won’t. Unless this date and everything before and beyond are nothing but a cruel joke, I have been unfair to him; he would be justified to do so, yet, no, that’s not the type of person Viktor is; vindictiveness is not a proclivity he possesses. Is it? How would I know, really?

Two knocks on the door startled you, sharp yet timid enough to turn your anxious anticipation into longing. Before opening the door, you looked around at the barely cleared-up space going from the door to the bed, to the table, and to the small kitchen, forming a desire path that allowed transit but left the rest of the space surrounded by piles of carefully placed (and clean) but visibly amassed books, clothes, lab equipment, and small knickknacks and ornaments. This should be good enough, you thought. 

It was fun to fantasize about the worst, most terrible outcome. You always thought it was better to not hold any expectations; that way, everything good that happened to you would always seem like a pleasant surprise, but Viktor’s slight grin and warm eyes made you feel silly for thinking he would stand you up. He held up the hand that was holding a shopping bag to show you he was prepared and excited to cook you a meal. 

“Hey” was the only thing you were able to muster, and you smiled widely as you stood to the side to let him in. He immediately went to the kitchen and started to put away the stuff in the bag inside your fridge.

“Are you looking forward to getting back to work?”

“I was enjoying the unprompted vacation, to be completely honest.” You said with a good-humored chuckle.

“I can’t say I loved getting thwacked in the face, but what followed was surely worth the bloody nose.” You smiled to yourself at the memory of the brassy taste in your tongue.

“How does it feel? Has any of the pain subsided?”

“Barely a faint ache now,” he said, turning and walking to join you sitting on the edge of the bed. “Mostly a happy memory.” 

“I suppose it’s good that you won’t need to cross paths with that cretin now that we’ll be confined to our own labs again.”

“I’m not anticipating the interrogation Jayce is going to put me through either,” he said, throwing his body onto the mattress with a loud sigh.

“You can always lie.” 

“I suppose so.” He said with a lazy laugh, “Hungry?”

You nodded and extended your hand to help him up. 

As you stepped into the kitchen, you decided to step to the side and let Viktor do most of the cooking. The enticing scent of spices immediately enveloped you, and you watched him, already in full culinary swing, wielding a knife with the finesse of a seasoned chef. 

"Do you intend to watch me do all the heavy lifting?” he exclaimed, flashing a mischievous grin.

“You’ve worked beside me for long enough to know that if I get involved, I’m going to want to do things my way.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“Are you really? Because I can point out at least three things you’ve done wrong so far.” You say gesturing with your head in the direction of the onions he was chopping (incorrectly, in your humble opinion). “Is the secret ingredient a dash of blood?”

“You say that like you mind the taste.” He teased, earning a playful eye roll from you in return.

As the sunlight shone through the kitchen window, casting a mosaic of patterns on the checkered floor, Viktor hopped between tasks on the limited counter space, going from roughly chopping up potatoes to mixing up a fragrant concoction to marinate the meat in. The rhythmic clinking of utensils and the occasional sizzle of ingredients meeting the hot pan creating a symphony of anticipation. You reveled in the skill and delicateness of his hands and the comforting cadence of his quiet hums. As the finishing touches were added to the pan, Viktor stepped back to take a final look before closing the oven door. 

“Thirty minutes should do it,” he said, walking over to sit at the small table.

“Whatever shall we do with so much time?” You said playfully.

“Eh, we could tidy up the room a bit.”

He was met with a grudge-bearing look. “I did; everything has a purpose, and it has been placed in its current place after careful consideration.” He looked around with an ironic guise and then picked up a small pile of puzzle pieces.

“Even this?”

“I’ll need them when I find the box with the rest of the puzzle.” You said confidently.

You found yourself on the defensive as he continued to pick up things and you offered feeble excuses for the chaos every time he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. The room seemed to echo with your silent protest as Viktor's eyes lingered on a precariously stacked tower of books.

"And what about this?" He pointed accusingly. "Are you trying to build a skyscraper?"

“Your room would look the same if there was a human inhabiting it.”

“I…eh, have slept there every single day for nearly a month.”

“And that was thanks to my monumental mishandling, as you so graciously claimed after we almost blew up, so you’re very welcome.” You said, giving him a teasing grin. 

“And I stand by that, but I am very grateful for it now.”

The bickering came to a halt when Viktor’s hand reached for yours and pulled you close to him. A subtle curve on his lips betrayed a desire for something other than argument, and you wondered how he always managed to go from antagonistic to the object of your deepest desires with such ease. You, too, couldn't resist the magnetic pull of the charged atmosphere, feeling the currents shift from discord to an electric anticipation that hung between you like a delicate thread. 

“Can you just flirt with me like a normal person? I don’t know; tell me I’m pretty, perhaps.” You said, lightly holding his jaw with one hand.

“Where is the fun in stating the obvious?” He straightened up to give you a peck on the nose. “But if you must know, I believe in the subjective realm of aesthetics that the coalescence of your beautifully crafted features has an unparalleled allure.” He said in a theatrical voice.

“Yeah, nevermind” You broke down into a full-chested laugh that brought tears to your eyes. You both laughed for a long minute before your giggles subsided into a comfortable silence where you just looked at each other and Viktor gently caressed the skin of your waist.

“Pretty merely skims the surface; I trust you know that.”

“You could stand to mention it more,” you said, already halfway through the distance that separated you. Your lips met in a fervent, teasing kiss that spoke a language words could not, and the tension dissolved into a delicate tango of tongues and whispered promises, momentarily eclipsing the cluttered canvas of the room. 

You didn’t feel the rush or urgency that plagued your choices the last couple of times you had done this. It felt deliberate and unworried, and you noticed the real taste of his lips, not concealed by conflicting tastes and circumstances this time around.

Just as the moment reached its zenith, an insistent, faint beeping sound startled the both of you, and reality crashed back into focus as the timer on the oven pierced through the haze. Breaking away reluctantly, you shared a rueful laugh and exchanged a quick, lingering kiss before dashing towards the kitchen. Viktor followed close behind to help you set up and smiled at the playful pout on your lips. 

“Don’t be sad, zaychik ; it’s better this way.” He said, bringing the missing cutlery to the table and sitting opposite you. 

“What do you mean?” You said already stuffing your mouth with some chicken.

“I wouldn’t want to rush it; I fully intend to, eh, take my time with you next time.”

Under your initial disbelief, a thrilling warmth unfurled, coloring your cheeks with an exhilarating blush. And in that moment, as the echoes of his words lingered, you marveled at the boldness that had momentarily shattered the boundaries of polite conversation, leaving behind a residue of exhilaration and the promise of an uncharted, alluring territory. 

As you both sat across from each other at the table, the aroma of Viktor’s homemade meal wafted through the air, and the flickering of the last lights on the dusking sky cast a warm glow on the scene, creating a canvas for the intimate moment you were sharing. You caught a glimpse of an affectionate smile on Viktor's face, his eyes reflecting a quiet contentment that echoed your own. 

You had a lighthearted conversation throughout, talking about Jayce and Moira and your expectations for resuming your tasks at the labs, but as the remnants of the meal disappeared from the table, you exchanged teasing glances, the air heavy with a flirtatious tension that built with every shared laugh and lingering touch. 

“We should have made desert,” you said playfully. 

“If you taste as sweet as I remember, I’m sure I can make do with that.” Suddenly, the once cozy room became a haven of intimacy, beckoning you both as you walked the short steps needed to get to the bed.

However, as soon as you found yourself in Viktor’s arms, your noses touching each other in delicate butterfly kisses, the conversation mellowed into a gentle hum, and as your eyes met, a silent agreement passed between you. The fatigue of the day, coupled with the satisfying indulgence in the hearty meal Viktor had made, weighed down on both of you. The soft caress of his fingers along your spine slowly gave way to the soothing rhythm of shared breaths, and the initial spark of desire transformed into a tranquil embrace as you drifted into sleep in each other's arms, an unexpected twist sealing the night with sweet and tender serenity.

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

As the first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains, you both stirred from the embrace of sleep, realizing that the night had woven its own kind of magic. The initial confusion melted into shared laughter as you exchanged sleepy glances when you rolled over from the position you had woken up in to face Viktor, discovering that the allure of rest had triumphed over whatever intentions you had when you got to bed. Despite everything, a warmth lingered in the air. 

“Is this what you meant when you said you wanted to ´take your time´?” you joked.

“Very funny.” 

“Well, getting you to sleep for a couple of hours is always a win in my books.” 

“That is quite an unfair assumption,” he said as he stretched. “Do you think one of your uniform shirts would fit me? I am dreading having to go all the way to my dorm to change.”

“Probably a little loose, and it’ll smell of my perfume.” 

“Neither sound like a problem.” He said, placing a small kiss on your forehead and walking over to the closet. He turned around briefly with a slightly disapproving look when he saw the piles of tangled clothes, but quickly found one of the shirts. You sat on the edge of the bed with both arms resting behind you as you observed him attentively. He propped his cane on the closet door for a short second to take off the gray t-shirt he had slept in, and he smiled at you when he noticed you staring. 

“What?”

You hummed and shrugged casually. “Can I not appreciate the view?” 

“There’s nothing to look at.” He chuckled as he put both arms in the maroon sleeves. You frowned.

“There’s plenty to look at, and I frankly do not care if you disagree.” You said playfully as you walked over and started buttoning the shirt so he could hold onto his cane again. “In fact, I’m very much looking forward to seeing the rest of you after work.”

“Can we go to my dorm? I feel claustrophobic here.” He said with a teasing smirk, clearly cut to annoy you. 

The hasty donning of work attire and the quick fix of disheveled hair continued after a quick scoff on your part, punctuated by lingering glances and soft touches. As you stood together in the doorway, you made it a point to plant a kiss on the corner of Viktor’s mouth, leaving an intentionally placed imprint of cherry lipstick that you were sure Jayce would not fail to irritate him about. A small punishment for being incorrigible, or perhaps a clear claim to him for any curious eyes.

[tiredandwireds-blog]

@jennalistening i got u

Ok here's a list of all the best Dick and Damian(mostly with father/son dynamics) fics imo. Pls dont judge me.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40095006

The Stowaway (5099 words) by LittleLadybugs

Short sweet and fluffy! Damian sneaks a cat into the penthouse and struggles to keep it hidden. At least Dick always has his back!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32923282

Emergency Contact by DawnsEternalLight for grousemouse

Hilarious and cute! Damian gets attacked on a school trip and is just the way youd expect him to be lol. Dick freaks out ofc

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49322866

my shoulders are heavy already by a_alene

Ughhh its sooo goodddd! Damian and Dick sickfic cannot recommend enoughhh plsplspls read ittt

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36304804

a chance to celebrate by emavee

So cuteee! The batfam throws a party to celebrate Dick adopting Damian. Its such a cute story that gives insight into each characters feelings and its also fluffy as hell!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46392967

Father's Day (we were the best) by InkpotSprite

Damian decides to celebrate Dick on Mother's and Father's Day lol cute and absolutely hilarious!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40260231

I'll Carry You by BrickSheep

BrickSheep puts it best with the tag Comfort No Hurt. Its exactly as the title says dick carries damian and i get a rush of dopamine lol

https://archiveofourown.org/series/890946

I Saw Grayson Kissing Santa Claus by pupeez4eva

Damian becomes convinced Santa is after Dick Bruce is confused and Jason is evil. So pretty par for the course lol. Tbh tho this fic had me laughing so hard my sides hurt an absolute beautiful nightmare to read

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51531457

The Ping-Pong Wars by fadesfanfic

Stephanie and Damian bonding! Dick being worried over Damian! And oh the shenanigans! Its beautiful and sweet and funny and iloveitsomuchhh

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186434

Paint Cans and Sneaking Out by CarrionCarnival

Damian sneaks out to do some graffiti and tries not to get caught lol. Cute and fun. A whole new look for Damian that I loveee

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22544392

The R Stands for – by Cirth

A beautifully written look into Damian's adjustment to his new home. Honestly made me cry ngl but sometimes you need that

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52221118

Obsolete Tools and Tangible Miseries by Corybantic

Ok we def in angst territory now gang! Damian thinks hes nothong but a weapon and Dick helps convince him otherwise. Read at your own risk cause i was sobbinggg

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37052449

the city without stars in its skies by Alienu

Ok i literally just reread this one anddd. Ughhhh im dyingggg. Damian is sent to kill Officer Dick Grayson you see where this is goinggg its so gooddd plsreadplsreadplsread

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40538418

Home Is Where the Heart Is by LittleLadybugs

Ok ill admit this ones more batfam focused then just dick and dami but still. So good. Dick is adopted by Slade not Bruce and goes running to blüdhaven to hide from him. Sadly the Birds wont leave hime alone

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22395412

Not by Blood, Maybe by Heart by Ellegrine

Ok we back to fluff now lol. Damian loves his brothers even if he never says it. In this fic he shows it by protecting Dicks honor lol

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18296282

Still the Best by Cdelphiki

3 great fics all in one spot! Literally some of the best stuff ive ever read! Iloveitiloveitiloveit pls readdd

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918887

Catch Me (All Records Indicate) by Engineerd

The evolution of the nickname lil D. Cute and so sweet. Short but such a comfort read

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866386

This Too Shall Pass by DarthPeezy

Just oh. just so so goodddd. Another gorgeous look at Damian adjusting to his new life with the batfam tho this one is more plot directed and ohmygosh did that plot have me in a death grip

And finally my top 2 fav fics:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718083

Throughout Infinity by flumen

Damian is sent to an alternate universe and meets young justice Dick and crew. Ok no summary i can do will do this fic justice just know i read this in one sitting and immediately felt my sense of priorities and my mind shift. No joke this changed me.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021464

3:16 by partingxshot

AAAHHHH

Ok now i can talk abt this. Im in the process of rereading this AGAIN bc i literally cannot be left alone. Ok quick summary: each chapter follows Dick and Damian adjusting to their new life as Batman and Robin. I feel like most everyone who is in love with the dynamic between Dick and Damian has read this fic but i cant leave it out bc its literally my fav fic EVER. i will never be normal abt this fic if you havent read it yet plspls do

[amandacanwrite]

The Violet Thread of Fate ||

Reluctant Mentor Gale x Unskilled Wizard F!Tav

Length || About 4,000 Words

POV || Dual Narration, Third Person

Warnings || Descriptions of viscera, age gap (about ten years, both adults)

Summary || After waking up on the craggy shoreline of the sword coast, Elinna and Gale reunite with a new common ground.

A/n || I am feeling sort of on the fence about Gale's eagerness in his attraction to Elinna, but I also feel like it's still at least somewhat in character for him--after all in any playthrough you can wind up being blindsided by his feelings for you since he is usually so subtle about his affections. I also just think it's so fun to get the internal narration of Gale's attraction. He always seems so put together, polite and proper. I just love to see a man precariously balancing his carnal desires with his conscience and desire to be a good man. I hope you like it, I know things feel a little slow right now, but I'm planning on taking some creative liberties in the next couple parts. Please also lemme know what you think if you read it! I am absolutely tinkerbell and need the dopamine to live

Chapter Two: A Nightmare, An Awakening

Read Part One Here • Join Tag List Here

A Nightmare

Elinna thought she had died; thought the disintegration of her bodily form was the end of her short, unremarkable life. Much to her surprise, though when her vision once again returned to her she realized she had merely been spirited away somehow.

It took a few moments for her eyes to properly focus. When they finally did, she almost wished that the contact with the tentacle had killed her. It would have been far preferable to where she had wound up.

She found herself locked in a great chitinous pod, looking through smeared membranous glass at what she could only suppose was the nautiloid she had tried to escape from. 

Yes…death would have been a far preferable fate to becoming a mindless thrall on a mindflayer ship. As she squinted through the clear panel in front of her and saw what appeared to be a brain walking on four spindly limbs, she realized that her fate could be even worse than regular enthrallment. 

The minutes she spent entrapped in the pod felt like hours. A miserable limbo of wondering what would be coming next for her. What if she was already marked for turning into an intellect devourer? What if the enthrallment had already been put in place and she could simply be ordered to do something whenever a mindflayer so wished it?

She couldn’t just stay here. She had to move.

She tried, in vain, to wrench her arms free of the fleshy brindings within the pod. The sinuous tendrils only tightened more and more, leaving her fingertips throbbing and tingling from the blood flow being cut off. She tried to move her feet next and her boots sloshed in some sort of viscera at the base of the pod. She did her best not to vomit as the viscera eked some ichorous fluid into the fibers of her clothing and through the porous leather of her soft-soled shoes. 

The last thing she needed in addition to all of this was to be covered in the contents of her own stomach–empty as it was.

The shock of panic cinched tight around her ribcage, making it hard to breathe. And as she struggled to get her lungs to fill, she also struggled to think. 

“Calm down, Elinna,” she told herself. “Think about what you’ve read. Think about what you know.”

What did she know about Illithids? They were hivemind organisms. They required high-moisture, high-humidity environments to protect the mucosal membranes of their skin. They primarily fed on the brains of their prey and used psionic energy not only to fight but to control their biomechanical machinery. 

She craned her head forward to look for some sort of control panel–something that could get her out of this cocoon of horror. 

As she did, a valve-like door opened on the far side of the room, revealing a dizzying network of corridors. And…and one of them. A mind flayer. 

Elinna went dizzy as her heart thumped in her temples. She watched in horror and sickly anticipation as it levitated toward something in the center of the room; a cistern of sorts from what she could see. It waved a four-fingered hand and the vessel opened, revealing a golden, glowing brine pool that may have been beautiful if Elinna didn’t know precisely what it was. 

The mindflayer coaxed one of those disgusting tadpoles out of the amber liquid and levitated over to Elinna’s pod. She recoiled away from it as the pod opened, turning her face away from the creature and squeezing her eyes shut. She knew exactly how mindflayers reproduced, and she was not interested in getting a first hand experience with ceremorphosis. 

She didn’t have much of a choice, though. Even without the parasite, the illithid was able to compel her to stillness. 

It was an atrocious violation of her agency; surreal and nightmarish in the worst ways. Her mind was fully intact as the creature made her muscles release the tension they held and coerced her eyes to open. Her body was still and calm, but her heart was racing like a trapped rabbit’s. She watched uselessly as the tiny creature floated closer to her. She cried to cry out as it latched onto the orb of her eye and started to wriggle and squirm until it could find purchase beneath her eyelid. 

She was silent. Infuriatingly, horribly silent as the creature continued to burrow its way into her skull. 

Her pulse hammered in her ears as she screamed inside her own body, begging herself to fight, to tear her own eye out rather than let the process of ceremorphosis take place. 

But her body was still as the tiny parasite worked its way into her eye socket and back into her brain. 

Elinna lost consciousness as she felt the unsettling pressure of her brain matter being displaced to accommodate her unwelcome guest. 

When she awoke next, she didn’t immediately know where she was. She only knew that it was loud and it was cold. The sound of air ripping past her pointed ears is what brought her back into full consciousness, and though her eyes were open, she wasn’t actually seeing at first. 

There was a vast expanse of stars above her, the smell of salty air, the lingering cling of something far more acrid–like the smell of burnt sulfur woven into her clothes. 

She tried to parse what was going on, it felt like she was sinking into the ocean–but if that were the case, shouldn’t she not be able to breathe? 

Then she saw the burning wreckage of the Nautiloid and everything came back to her. 

The travel to Waterdeep, the encounter with Mr. Dekarios, the parasite and…

And she was falling through the sky! 

“Not again!” she cried as she stared at the ground rising to meet her with startling velocity. “No, no, no! I will not–This is not how I die!”

It didn’t go very well the last time, but it wasn’t as if she had any other ideas of what to do. She scoped out the approaching shoreline, selecting one spot and earmarking it. After choosing a point on a craggy cliffside, she shut her eyes and tried to gulp in a breath before it was whipped out of her mouth. 

“Inveniam Viam!” she shouted. 

That strange, surreal feeling of not moving, yet being in a different place came again, only this time it was followed very quickly by the feeling smashing into the ground beneath her, square onto her back. It wasn’t a far drop, perhaps only a few feet, but it was enough to hurt her. She blinked up at the sky above her, the glow of the stars somewhat dampened by the flaming wreckage of the nautiloid as it loudly crashed into the earth just a few moments after her.

She ached as she stood and looked out over the cliffside she’d misty stepped to, seeing the vast expanse of an unfamiliar coast crawling with intellect devourers and the blazing with fires choking out great plumes of black smoke. She dropped to her knees, feeling utterly defeated. 

She had no idea where she was. She had no money. No food. Not even a change of clothes with her. She didn’t even know where she was–and she knew she was more than a little directionally challenged. 

Her keepers at The Scribes Nest had told her not to leave; had warned her that there were dangers in the world. That she couldn’t hope to survive on the knowledge she’d amassed from books alone. That the lives of wizards often ended in folly. 

She knew this, of course. She’d read extensively about every wizard she could find and more than half of them were done in by their own curiosity. 

But the ones who hadn’t been rendered themselves undone…they were amazing. Elminster and Blackstaff. Lorroikan and Sammaster. Karsus and Dekarios.

Wait….

Gale Dekarios–he’d been touched by the tentacles, too!

And if she hadn’t died, then that meant he probably hadn’t either. If she could find him, if she could just appeal to him for one favor…maybe he could help her get back to Waterdeep. Maybe she would have an opportunity to prove to him that she could be a good apprentice; that she was worth the trouble of taking on as a student. Maybe he would know how to get rid of the tadpole squirming in her brain. 

But none of that would happen if she just sat there on her knees and despaired. 

She would need to get back up and put one bloody boot in front of the other. 

She would have to be brave and she would have to trust that Mystra would guide her to what came next. 

An Awakening

Hells…it just had to be a pocket dimension that saved him, didn’t it?

They were tricky little things–a slice of wild magic that functioned like an oubliette; a place to put things to be forgotten, or to be summoned at a different point in time. He’d used a few in his time, but never for more than storage during travel or to hide the occasional failed potion. He’d thought once that he might use one when it was clear that the orb would no longer be sated by the magic artifacts he consumed; discussed the idea with Tara before she requested not to speak of it until necessary. 

“I don’t like think of that eventuality, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara had said to him. “I know I tend to be pragmatic…but it makes me far too sad.”

“Focus,” he scolded himself as he looked around the darkened pocket. He needed to find an opening–or at least find a way to make one, failing that. 

It was a mistake that he’d even ended up in one in the first place. A mistake that stemmed from the first mistake when he’d tried to help that girl. 

If he’d had any sense, he would have let her run and gone straight to help his mother and make sure Tara would be okay. He could only hope that they were still safely nestled at his childhood home in Waterdeep. At least he’d not seen either of them during his wanderings about the ship. 

But then the spelljammer had lurched and started falling out of the sky, and he’d grabbed onto the strongest strand of weave he could find and followed it here. The unfortunate side of that, of course, was that the strength of that thread is precisely what made this particular pocket realm exceedingly hard to get out of. And the parasite so rudely deposited into his brain was not doing wonders for his ability to concentrate. 

He held his hands up and closed his eyes, attempting to feel out the strands of weave in this darkened place. Wherever he’d been transported to, it felt very far away from Mystra indeed. Like whatever reality he’d blipped into was one almost entirely devoid of magic at all. 

He focused a bit harder, the tadpole in his head wriggling with the effort. He continued to focus, trying not to think too hard about the unnerving sensation. Finally, with some challenge, he managed to pool some magic together. It felt similar to trying to collect enough morning dew on a leaf to drink.

There came a crackle, then a tear. Not nearly large enough to fit himself entirely through, but enough that he could get an arm out. 

Perhaps with at least one hand in Faerun, he could channel whatever remaining weave he needed to fully escape this dark corner of nothing. 

A sheen of perspiration shone on his brow as he felt around outside of the oubliette. He could feel the familiar moisture of coastal air and it sent a wave of relief through him. He wasn’t far from Waterdeep at all, then. Or at least he’d hoped as much. 

Perhaps he could just appear on the main road and hurry straight to his mother to make sure that she and Tara were alright. 

He was trying to grasp onto the weave when he suddenly felt the soft, almost tentative brush of fingertips on the palm of his hand. 

A person! Perfect! There was no better way to anchor a teleportation spell than to another living soul. It would be a little complex to explain that, though, and he was sure a mysterious arm poking out of wherever he could reach was more than a little unnerving so he settled for simplicity instead. 

“Hello?!” He called through the tear in the fabric of space and time. “Is anyone there? A hand? Please?”

He felt the hand withdraw for a moment, then it returned with what he assumed was the person’s other hand. One closed tightly around his fingers, the other grasped a bit higher, accompanied by the sensation of fingertips curling into the fabric of his sleeve. Small, gentle hands. Not small enough to be a child–but perhaps a woman. 

He closed his eyes once more and took a deep breath, allowing himself to feel the energy of the stranger on the other side of the opening. He tapped into it, smelling the faint, sweetly lactic scent of peaches; tasting on the tip of his tongue the light flavor of…honeyscotch candy. If Mystra’s energy was violet in color…this energy was the color of the sky during sunrise…a gradient of lilac, rose and cerulean.

Pretty… he thought to himself before slamming the heel of his hand to his brow. 

Focus you touch-starved buffoon.

“Whatever you’re doing is working wonders!” he said encouragingly. “I think if you just give me a good pull, I should come right out!”

The stranger pulled and he joined that effort by pushing himself through from the other side with what remained of that pooled bit of magic he’d gathered together. 

Finally, he flew out of the pocket realm like a cork from a bottle, regrettably landing right on top of the poor woman who had helped him. 

He was quick to shift his weight so he didn’t put the entirety of his considerable heft on the poor thing. Yet, his creaky knees slowed him down when it came to properly getting up. Then again…he couldn’t deny a certain reluctance to rise. He hated to admit it, and if anyone ever asked him he would deny it to the grave…but it was pleasant to feel the soft curves of a woman against him. A year was such a long time to be without it, and to feel warmth beneath him again…

It was a lascivious thought not becoming of a gentleman, he remembered, but one that occurred almost automatically much to his chagrin. 

“Hells,” he said. “Forgive me miss. I’m usually much better at this–and usually not so long sedentary that my limbs can’t keep up with my manners. Allow me to–”

He lifted himself up onto his elbows and finally laid eyes on his savior. 

It was the girl from before. What was the name? Elinna Inklynn. 

She stared up at him with wide eyes and a face flushed with exertion. How hard had she needed to work to pull him out of that portal? Seeing her so close now, he picked up on some of the qualities he’d missed in the dim light of the Waterdhavian evening. 

A constellation of mauve-tinged freckles dusted across her flushed nose and cheeks. In the daylight, her skin was almost pale pink. The soft swell of her lips sat slightly parted with a look of surprise. And her eyes…my those eyes were something to behold. Verdant as a sprig of mint and flecked with gold as if she had a vein of ore curling through the irises of her eyes. 

“A-allow me to help you up,” he finally stammered. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“Not by you,” she said somewhat breathlessly. 

He grunted slightly as he got back onto his feet, now allowing himself to think of the way her soft curves shifted beneath him. He reached a hand down and helped her back up to her feet as well, dusting off her theadbare apron and her slightly puffed sleeves. She was still flushed–perhaps dehydration or fever…or…

“You haven’t happened to have been on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region, have you?” he asked. 

The flush could be a sign of the beginning stages of ceremorphosis. 

“I couldn’t have phrased it more repellently myself,” Elinna replied. 

“No use sugarcoating it, is there?” he asked with a smirk. “I don’t suppose you know what these little passengers will cause if left to their own devices?”

“Ceremorphosis,” she answered without missing a beat. “At least–if we don’t get it handled in a few days…”

Well, color him surprised. 

It wasn’t very often that ceremorphosis was talked about among the common man–it was even hard to find books detailing the finer details of the process. The girl may have been a poor magician, but she was clearly learned.

“Suffice to say, it is a process that should be avoided,” he said. 

“Agreed,” she said. 

It occurred to him that she was behaving…a bit stiff; almost aloof. The young woman he’d encountered in front of his tower had a bit more fire to her than this one did. Then again, they’d just gone through quite the harrowing experience. Both of them were covered in mysterious viscera, they’d been taken hostage on a mindflayer ship and well–the poor girl did just have a strange older man on top of her. 

The girl bit down on her lower lip and he found his eyes unconscionably glued to her mouth. She released her lower lip and he watched as the pale pink color returned to it, wondering idly what it would feel like to–

“Are we just—are we just going to pretend that I didn’t beg you to take me on as an apprentice and that you quite sumerilly told me to bugger off?” she asked. “Are we just going to be compatriots now?”

He blinked down at her, his mind catching up with her words. 

Good gods, he really was behaving like a lech. He didn’t know where this was coming from. Perhaps it was an undocumented symptom of ceremorphosis–this…uncommon desire he was feeling. 

Or maybe he was just, well, desperate. 

“Well, I take umbrage with that analysis. I don’t believe I told you to bugger off…At least not verbatim. I do try to not be a miserable ass,” Gale said a bit sheepishly. “But I hasten to point out that we do have a shared problem now–some common ground we didn’t have before. It seems wasteful to part ways at a juncture such as this, don’t you think?”

He looked around in the early morning daylight and frowned realizing that he didn’t recognize anything. “I certainly don’t know the area after all, and judging by the history you disclosed with me, you likely don’t either.”

“Well…no, I don’t. Aside from Waterdeep I’ve not been anywhere other than the Moonshae Islands.” she said. 

“And you seem to not have a very strong sense of location judging by our time in the alleyways,” he pointed out. 

“That’s true…so then… does that mean you’ll do it?” she asked. “You’ll take me on as your student?”

He grimmaced.

“No,” he said with not a moment’s hesitation. “Not a student–an ally. An equal. It’s best that we tackle this issue together, don’t you think? It makes no sense to travel separately when our searching will likely lead us to the same places. And besides that…”

Besides that, if he started to change into a mindflayer, he wanted to be sure he had someone nearby who could…put him out of his misery and get his body somewhere safe before it leveled a city. 

“But I could be more helpful if you teach me,” she pleaded. “I’d just be a liability without your help.”

“I have seen your magic,” Gale said with a bit of a teasing gaze. “And I don’t know if there is much I can do for someone who casts Misty Step with their eyes closed. It seems you’d be more of a liability with the magic than without.”

She blinked up at him like he’d grown a second head. 

“Oh, please,” he said. “You must know that it’s a spell that requires a clear line of sight.”

She shrank a bit. “I…didn’t know. No,” she said. 

“How could you not know such a thing? You must have read a scroll to learn the incantation,” he said. 

“I mean this with the utmost respect, but when is the last time you’ve read a scroll, Mr. Dekarios?”

He inhaled, lifting an index finger. Then he closed his mouth and looked off to the side. 

When was the last time? It must have been ages. 

“Well,” she said without waiting for his answer. “Most spell scrolls assume a certain basis of classical training, or at minimum an innate understanding of how to channel the weave.”

“I see,” he said. “I’m to assume you’re not a sorceress then?”

“Not to my knowledge,” she said with a sigh.

He clenched his jaw as he looked down at the younger woman. Gods, she really did need a teacher. Maybe he could at least talk to her about theory–or give her a few simple exercises for manipulating the–

No. No. 

He had more than enough on his plate without adding a poorly self-taught mage to it.

“Elinna,” he said. “Tell you what. I have a deal to offer–a concession if your like. If we make it through this and…make it out of wherever we are and back to Waterdeep, I promise I will introduce you to some colleagues that will help you get your start as a novice wizard. How does that sound? Fair?”

To his great surprise, she still looked disappointed by that answer. The girl really was an ambitious thing–coming right to his tower to seek his tutelage and no one else's? The poor girl had no idea what she was trying to sign herself up for; a depressed, anti-social, explosive wizard. A depressed, anti-social, explosive and impatient wizard. As far as teachers went, he was not the best candidate for the job.  

“Alright,” she finally said. “Let’s see if we can go find a healer together…or maybe some other survivors…of a bath.”

“Oh, to find a bath,” Gale agreed. “Ah, but–before you think you’re journeying with most ill mannered a man–”

Gale gave the young woman a slight bow. “Thank you for pulling me out of that stone.”

When he stood up to his full height again, the young woman was smiling at him, her pretty viridian eyes crinkling at the edges. She tucked a pale copper strand of hair behind one of her delicately pointed ears and looked a bit sheepishly down the craggy shore. 

“Ah–it’s almost a dead end over here–I think there might be more ground to cover if we cross through the wreckage…but I didn’t want to do that on my own,” she said. 

“A wise choice, I think,” Gale said. “No telling what you would have run into. Not to imply that you can’t hold your own, of course–”

“No, you’re right,” she said, looking away from him a little timidly. “I’ll feel better with you there–it’s nice to have a friend.”

He huffed a soft breath and found himself smiling at how willing she was to call him her friend.  Even after all the ways he had been a bit of an oaf to her, he felt in her he had found a bit of a kindred spirit. Someone else who sought camaraderie in perhaps…unworthy places.

 She looked up at him and bit the swell of her lower lip again. “Shall we go then?” she asked him. 

He gestured to the road ahead. “After you,” he said with a magnanimous smile. “Consider me your ever faithful guard dog, ready at the first sign of trouble.”

She snorted a little laugh and shook her head. 

And as he followed after her, for the first time in the last year, he hoped the pang in his chest was because of the orb.

Taglist || @auroraesmeraldarose @thoughts-of-bear @cherifrog @puckprimrose @drabblesandimagines

[salvador-daley]

Sauna Klaus x Dave

Umbrella Academy smut 🍑🥵

Author’s Note: So, the other day, my husband told me about our town’s gay sauna and how there was a whole documentary about it. I didn’t ask him how he knew all this, but I did watch the documentary.

Anyway, then this happened.

All my other WIPs (Dead Sexy, Chained and High Altitude) are still ongoing and new chapters for each are coming soon - I just really needed to get this smut out of my system. (I’m sorry!)

Enjoy, filth fans! If you like it, leave me some comments and I will read them over and over while lying on my bed in the foetal position because they are my primary source of dopamine. 🧡🧡

Summary:

Dave goes to the sauna for the first time.

It goes… very well.

Snippet from Sauna:

He is beautiful - but not in the way a man is usually beautiful - in the way the Grand Canyon is beautiful. An awe-inspiring, breath-taking, all-encompassing beauty. His cheekbones and jawline are razor-sharp, his eyebrows thick and expressive, his eyelashes long, his goatee finely manicured, framing a wide, warm smile. He is so radiant, he’s almost painful to look at. Like the sun.

“Wow, you’re…”

“Invading your space, I know. I hope you don’t mind - I just have this damn tricky shoulder, I’m hoping the heat will help to loosen it up.” The man massages the top of his arm for emphasis.

Fuck, his arms are beautiful too.

Dave shakes his head “No, no, that’s fine.” He doesn’t really know what to do here, he’s been thrown off by that face, those eyes, those arms.

He panics and sticks out his hand. “I’m Dave, by the way.”

The man looks down at the proffered hand as if Dave just offered him a rubber chicken. Instantly, Dave realises his mistake; he has forgotten the primary purpose of places like these - anonymity.

A bemused smile crosses the man’s face, the kind one reserves for the quaint idiosyncrasies of a foreign tourist.

“A names guy, hey?”

It’s like Dave has suggested some new, weird kink and he’s deciding whether to go for it or not.

“Okay, then. I’m Klaus.” Klaus takes Dave’s hand and gives it a hearty shake. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Read the rest on AO3

Tagging because I crave your approval: @badsext @softforklave @anglophile-rin @neist @maerenee930 @firstpersonnarrator @allisoooon @cemeteryklaus @super-unpredictable98 @pickledbeefwastaken @love-is-dirty-baby @rina-cydonia @inspiremeandsetmefree @jender123 @vonkimmeren @narnianaos @sylvertyger @merrilark @shaneen828 @spideyxalmighty @faceache111 @rob-private @pietro-t1me @not-oscar-wilde @squishitude @courtneytarynofficial @spookyfbi @kawaiic0mmunism @wcrmboy @yeah-klave @thislovelylife @kaufmann-6 @hullosweetpea @crisecardiac

[elfqueen006]

The Lifeguard Part 2

Sunny Day Jack x Reader

--- Tags/CW: summer camp au, camp counselor au, aforementioned murder, angst, rivals to lovers, horror, slasher au. (ik I said "enemies" before but rivals is more fitting for their dynamic) A/N:I make Jack cuss a lot here, Idk if it's fitting. Minors DNI

Jack liked Skylar. He really did.

He liked Ian too, despite his less than effective counseling skills.

He liked both of them. But the stress had caught up with him in the worst way. The bar. Seeing them together. The mention of your name… It just sent him over the edge.

He would like to think that in another life he would’ve been great friends with the two of them. But the remnants of that sweet dream lay six feet under the dirt behind the shed.

It was getting late, so the counselors were wrapping up activities for the day. He snuck behind the cabins, treading carefully till he reached the outhouse shower. Jack spends a long amount of time soaking fully clothed. At first, its’ to see if this is all a dream. When he doesn’t wake up he discards the costume completely and scrubs furiously at his naked body. It doesn’t matter that the washrag here was used by several different people within the week. In Jacks’ mind, his soul is dirtier than anything within these four walls.

Knock, knock.

“Jack?”

Silence.

“Jack, you in there?”

“...What do you want?” He bites out.

“Where have you been, man? Bill’s got everyone in a frenzy! We had to wrap things up early til’ we found you!” You said.

“...I was where you sent me, where else?” Jack said.

“Oh…” a pause. “Oh.”

His blood pressure rises from the snicker you make behind the door. A slight creak indicates your leaning on it.

“Sooo, how was she?”

Jack doesn’t bother switching off the faucet as he flings the door open and stalks towards you menacingly. His yellow eyes are wide and erratic. It pierces something in your chest.

“How was she?” Jack repeated darkly, “How she was, is that what you asked me?”

You stumble back against the cabin wall. “I-I didn’t mean it like-”

“I went to see how she was and I caught your boyfriend between her legs, so you should ask him.”

Your eyes go wide as saucers. You searched his face for humor, a change in expression, fidgeting or any trace of dishonesty though all it held was the cold, hard, truth. Jack bit back a twitch of a smirk on his lips as he watched your face go through different phases of denial. Your ego along with your spirit was crumbling at his words. And he took a sick satisfaction in it. There was, though, still an air of guilt – or rather, a reminder to feel guilty. You had been cheated on after all. But he hasn't acknowledged it too much. After all, the offender was dead and the offended was suffering. It’s about as fair a trade can get.

“Tell Bill I’m taking a sick day.” Jack said coldly.

When he’s done, you are gone. It isn’t as refreshing as he’d hoped. Showering. Though he does admit, unintentionally sticking it to you did give him a needed amount of dopamine to get through the night. He tries not to look at his fingernails so much, though. They are still tinged red at the tips, with remnants of gore stuck underneath.

Jack waits till everyone has gone to sleep to use the lobby’s laundry room. He learned that blood washes out with cold water at a young age. So he’s sure to scrub out the extra dark spots before letting the rest rinse out via a wash cycle. Before putting in the pants though, a phone had fallen out of the back pocket.

Skylar’s phone. Shit.

He’d meant to toss it in the dirt along with Ian’s. But must’ve unconsciously held onto it… as if she’d need it back.

When Jack picks it up it vibrates with a message. From you. The ID reads ‘Bitch <;3’. He has to admit… it is very you.

sky, it reads, sky pick up wut happened at the shed??

…

i know you see this

jack says he saw you with ian. tell me he’s fuckin wit me

Especially with how long the dots float then stop, then float again, indicating you’re trying desperately to figure out what words to say. And then backtracking on them.

sky QUIT leaving me on read i’m so serious rn

…

I KNOW YOU SEE THIS BITCH!!!

Jack stops there. Pocketing the phone. He sighs, “Gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

—

You texted all through the night. Jack had to eventually turn  it on silent and shove it in his nightstand drawer. Though when he woke up and checked it again, there were 50+ messages waiting for him. You hadn’t stopped until two in the morning. It was a virtual moodswing of desperate pleas, cusses, and threatening emojis. As he scrolled back up to the texts from a month before, it seemed as though emojis were really your whole thing. Most notably ones with hearts, laughter, and occasionally the wine emoji.

Jack was almost grateful Skylar wasn’t on the receiving end of either anymore. Whether it be by voice or text, you were a very chatty person.

It was business as usual. Kids clamored to him once more (some were crying, poor dears) and he got an earful from Bill again. The day was so… normal. It was almost as if the dear departed counselors never existed.

FFFFT!

A sharp whistle could be heard across campus. Jack looked over to your high chair and immediately picked up on the drastic change in atmosphere around you. 

Instead of your usual lounging, you sat upright with your arms crossed stiffly. Your leg bounced impatiently. In addition to your usual red lifeguard leotard you now wore a pair of black sunglasses.

“Keep the water out of your mouth, David!” You shout, “You wanna catch something?”

A counselor - whose name tag read ‘Shaun’ - came up beside him. “What’s up with the lifeguard? She’s been in a shit mood all day…” He asked.

Jack shrugged, “I couldn’t tell ya.”

Every slight mishap earned the kids a taste of that shrill whistle. He felt bad they had to deal with your sour mood. Of course he knew the cause, and that only added to the guilt…

FFFFT!

He had to put a stop to this.

There was an odd sense of deja vu as he marched up to your high chair. This time he knocked on the ladder. You look down at him through your shades.

“What?” You snap.

“Get down here, I need to talk to you.” Jack said.

“Can’t you see I’m doing something?”

“Y/N-”

“As in my job?”

“Now.”

You narrow your eyes at him before hopping down the chair. You saunter up to him and snatch off your shades. There’s a venomous look in your eyes. “What is it?” You said.

Jack folded his arms. “First off, I appreciate the initiative you’re taking in your position as of late,”

“Thanks. Can I go now?”

“However… I can’t say I agree with the way you’re going about it.”

Your eye twitches and you throw your head back with a bitter laugh. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me…” You mutter.

“Far from it, actually.”

“What do you want from me?” You said, “You say you want me to take my job seriously, but now you say you don’t like how I’m doing it? Can you make up your damn mind?!”

Jack then leans down just inches away from your face, “What I want is for you to leave your emotions at the door when mentoring these kids,” He hissed, “And if you can’t do that I will exercise my ability as a counselor to get you removed. Are we clear?”

You held each others’ gazes for a while. And with you already at your lowest, you’d been the first to give in. You sigh, “...Crystal.”

He nods and puts on a big smile, feeling a bit of smug satisfaction. “Good. Enjoy the rest of your shift, Y/N.”

He ignores your muttered demand that he “go to hell”  and walks off. Though not without hearing your whistle once more.

FFFT!

“Hey, I’m not kidding about the lake water – cut that shit out!”

—

Though you loosened the reins, the kids had avoided you like the plague. The counselors gave you heavy side eye the rest of the day. And once it was time to eat dinner, you asked Bill if you could excuse yourself. He allowed it.

You sat on the steps of the lodge, staring out at the lake. The water was still and began to reflect the deep purple in the sky. Crickets chirped and you even spotted a few fireflies. It was such a calm scene, and yet the whole time you were feeling like shit.

You pull out your phone and go to Skylar’s contact which had been changed from ‘Whore<3’ to ‘Dirty skank die die’. Not your most creative nickname.

All the texts you sent were still on read. Though with all that you’d said, you now wonder if it were better this way. It was like you were a completely different person in these. You always liked to say you weren’t for the drama, but you were certain if you showed this to any reality show host they’d fire everyone on set and make you their star. You hung your head and groaned.

Before you could wallow any further the sound of an engine came close to you. You look up and Sunny Day Jack puts the Moke in neutral and leans over in his drivers’ seat.

“Hey, why the long face, camper? Lose your group?” Jack quips.

“You’re not funny.” You said blandly.

“Well, that’s why I’m a camp counselor first.” Jack said. “Why aren’t you inside?”

“I’m not feeling the menu…” You reply.

“Don’t you always go nuts for spaghetti night?”

“What’s it to you?”

Jack rolls his eyes, “You always scream out that spaghetti night “is your bitch”, so if you’re not managing it like a decent pimp something has to be wrong…”

A twitch of a smirk plays on your lips and you gesture blandly to the lodge with an exaggerated sigh. “My bitch knows her way around the corner. It’ll be fine.”

“If that’s the case then, I’m sure you’d want something to put on your stomach nonetheless…”

“That being…?”

He grins, “I’ve been wanting a change of palette myself. And the local Popov’s just started serving burgers. You in?”

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: fivecenturiesverse! @fivecenturiesverse has 64 fics posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 45 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@spicysix recommends the following works by @fivecenturiesverse:

i'm feeling devious (you're looking glamorous)

shape it up (get it straight)

chuck me a bouquet after the show, babe

just like a rainbow (you know you set me free)

drag him back to the meeting place

"Fives has a way with words that I don't think anyone else can compare to. More than one fic tagged as "faves" on my bookmarks are theirs. No matter what AU, what setting, whatever way they write a fic, the characterization will always be on fucking point. The way they always include Robin, and the party, and other characters (and also manages to make them so in character, too) always warms my heart. I feel like they truly understand the characters, and in the same way she views them, I view them too, and so Fives' works are always perfect for me. It's like that comfort food, no matter how many times I eat it it always makes me happy." -- @spicysix

Below the cut, @fivecenturiesverse answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

After watching s4 I was mildly annoyed that the show didn’t expand further on Steve and Eddie’s dynamic (not that I ever thought they would be canon) which I found to be really fun and different from a lot of what we see on the show. I also really wanted to explore Steve’s bisexuality and how it relates to his friendship with Robin and Eddie was a great vehicle for that (sorry Eddie lol)

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

There was only one bed… might be basic but it’s always been my favourite. Friends to lovers, fake dating, and forced proximity are also going to have me with my eyes glued to the screen.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Sharing a bed also is number one here, though it’s usually far more platonic than it is in stuff I read haha because non-sexual intimacy is like crack for me to write.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Lovesick in Loch Nora by redoaktree for the perfect Eddie characterisation but also looking at my bookmarks I think I need to read more steddie and stalk this blog for some recs lmao

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Maybe a genderbending fic because I really enjoyed writing this trope for Star Wars but honestly I’d be excited to writing anything rn, writer’s block is smothering me

What is your writing process like?

I have an idea somewhere between midnight and 3am, then I sit down and write it until it’s finished. Almost every single fic on my account was written in under five hours, I think (outside of my few long fics and series) the fic that it took me the longest to write was “our house (in the middle of the street)” which took me about 10 hours right through the night.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I guess if I have any it’s that I write everything in order all at once and if I get stuck on a scene I cut it and try something else entirely. I also rarely listen to music but if I do it has to be something loud where the words aren’t too distracting.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Alwaaaaayyyys after I’ve finished writing. I used to write on wattpad where I’d post as I wrote and all it meant was that nothing got finished. My problem is that I am fuelled off of interaction and if I’m getting interaction my brain doesn’t understand why I need to write any more. Like, we’re getting the dopamine hit so why bother giving them anything more. My brain is a silly goose, basically.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I’m not sure there’s any fic I’m most proud of. There’s definitely fics I’m less proud of, either because I know how little effort they took me and I think they’re kind of rubbish or because they just didn’t come out the way I wanted even though I put too much effort in. I guess the two series I’ve written for steddie— “of rags and silk (a costume)” and “your love is standing next to me” —are my favourites, I think they are my most imaginative and creative creations :)

How did you get the idea for shape it up (get it straight)?

Honestly a lot of what I wrote in 2023 and the thought process behind it is as much a mystery to me as it is to you but I think I just wanted to get into Mike’s head, dabble in Byler, and I love writing outsider POVs.

When writing i'm feeling devious (you're looking glamorous), what was something you didn’t expect?

That people would like it so much, to be honest. I was just having fun and writing something silly, I guess people do think I’m funny.

What inspired just like a rainbow (you know you set me free)?

I really wanted to add something to the Robin/Vickie tag but it was difficult because Vickie was so character-less in the show, so I focussed it mainly around Robin and Steve’s friendship which I have always loved and their single braincell fake dating plans (a trope I love for them, if anyone has recs… hmu)

What was your favorite part to write from chuck me a bouquet after the show, babe?

The goodbye scene and the reunion scene, I love angst.

How do/did you feel writing chuck me a bouquet after the show, babe?

I was deep in the trenches watching Succession, so I felt like Shiv Roy and I wanted to make Steve into Kendall.

What was the most difficult part of writing drag him back to the meeting place?

The song lyrics for this whole series was definitely the most difficult, fun, and rewarding experience, but for this fic in particular I think getting into the mindset of a 2014 tumblr user reversed any development of my frontal lobe.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

“Carol climbs up, wrapped in a sheet, and yanks up the door to yell at whoever the fuck — But it’s Robin and she’s crying. It’s not even a thought, Carol just reels her into a hug. They’re not friends but it doesn’t matter. They’re something more. They’re Steve’s, they belong to him like luggage he’s left going round and round and round in an airport baggage claim.” – from “let’s make some music, make some money”, my favourite because I think it accidentally described the way I write all ST fanfic like the world is revolving solely around Steve, he’s my little guy I can’t help it.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I wish! I can only say that I hope there’s more coming to an ao3 page near you soon! Thank you for reading B)

Thank you to our author, @fivecenturiesverse, and our nominator, @spicysix! See more of fivecenturiesverse's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[blissfulip]

Dopamine

on AO3

Viktor x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, idiots in love (?) dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut, masturbation, angry sex, unprotected sex,

Cw: uhhhh smut

Words: 2.5k

[A/N: russian very kindly corrected by soln, ly<3, tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly(ish). (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao

Previous Next

Chapter 6: Big-headed? (NSFW)

The corridor leading to Heimerdinger's office was markedly narrower and longer than the others at The Academy, as though he was covertly attempting to thwart visitors. It didn’t stop you, however, and as you found out when you got there, it hadn’t stopped Viktor either. It made sense that, at one point in his life, long before you even met each other, these halls must have been a habitual destination. His close-knit relationship with the professor also showed itself confidently in the volume of his voice, a line that, despite your frustration with the situation, you’d never dare to cross.

You had every intention of staying put and waiting for him to come out, but the half-open door compromised your presence, and given that you were almost certainly there to make a fuss about the same issue, you decided to get it done and over with; after all, perchance Viktor's presence there could give your argument a compelling edge.

"Well, I’m glad you were able to join us at last, dear. I trust you are feeling better." Heimerdinger started.

“I’m okay; yes, thank you for the concern, professor. I should say I have a surmise that I am here for the same reason as him."

“Yes, I was trying to argue that our work styles do not meld well, and making us work together for any period of time greater than 5 minutes could be catastrophic; would you confirm as much?”

“Absolutely, I can do the work all on my own if that’s necessary; just don't make me work with him.”

“Interestingly enough, he has offered to do the same. Although I do commend both of you for your altruism, I must insist. This is what the Academy has decided.”

“Professor, if I may—"

“Enough delays, my boy; the decision is final. If I were you, I would get to it immediately; you have only a couple of hours to work.” You were swiftly rushed out the door by him, swept away by tiny, impatient footsteps and a heavy wooden door closing behind you.

Another door closed right on your faces when the sweet librarian denied you access on the pretense that your arguing had inconvenienced a whole two people the past couple of weeks, and you were now banned from using the premises at the same time. You had to compromise and go in by yourself to get the books you needed and then go all the way to the half-empty and uncomfortably cold cafeteria tables, where you worked tirelessly until you were yet again kicked out once the place closed. 

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

A couple infectious yawns and rubbed eyes later, you leaned back on the stiff plastic chair and stretched your back.

“What time is it?”

“Past 9.” Viktor answered after lazily turning around to try to make out what the clock read. You groaned loudly.

“We’ll need to move again—my dorm or yours?"

“Mine is probably cleaner.”

“Are you implying I’m messy?”

“No, I am affirming as much.”

“Rude.” You were offended, though only as a habit, because he was not entirely wrong.

“Oh no, have I offended you? Someone put me out of my misery!” He dramatized.

“I’d be first in line.” You said already standing up and walking in the direction of his dormitory.

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

“Not everything needs to be done your way, you know?"

In the wake of the cafeteria work stretch, you had found yourselves completely spent and depleted. With most of the work done and text written, you had taken some minutes to stretch and rest your eyes. Viktor had informed you as soon as you got there that it was imperative that you were as silent as possible, given the next-door neighbor's propensity to complain about noise.

You did your best to keep it down, of course, and granted, you had been doing a particularly good job. That is, until Viktor decided to wonder who between the two of you would be the one actually giving the speech with the material you had prepared. Although you did your best to ask him politely at first, his immediate negative response caused you to get defensive.

“I wrote most of the text; why can’t you just do me a favor once?

“It’s not a favor if you have to throw me under a train for it! You know I hate speaking in public, and genuinely, I’m dog-tired of you being so incorrigibly selfish.”

“I’m not selfish, how am I selfish?” You said almost forgetting you had to keep the volume down.

“You never think about any consequences, ever. You can go around saying you are a free spirit and spontaneous and fun as much as you like, but if truth be told, you are nothing but cataclysmic chaos!”

“I don’t make mistakes on purpose, Viktor; it happens; you just have zero empathy because you insist on making everyone believe you are the Academy’s perfect golden boy! You never make mistakes, and you never do anything wrong, right?. But I know all you really do is push people away because everyone is afraid of disappointing you! I don't know. If you were a little less hostile, maybe you’d have some friends."

“You mean friends like you? I’d rather staple my ears together than be friends with a jumbled  mess. He said, standing up from the chair, his nose flaring up as he inhaled a sharp breath and held his cane forcefully. “You are so excruciatingly intolerable, overwhelming, big-headed—”

“Big-headed?"

“That is what you take offense to?”

You couldn’t say anything beyond a dismissive shrug, and you knew your disregard for his opinion was what would sting the most anyway.

The silence was loud; it could be felt in the air between you, the irate flare of irritation in his gritted teeth, his ears colored in that familiar tone of blush, and his eyebrows uncomfortably knit together as he whisper-screamed at you. He took a couple steps forward, leaving you at no farther than a palm's distance. The sudden closeness somehow did not bother you; you could hear both of your breaths, heavy and panting from the strain of containing your screams, and you could tell by the heat you felt all over your head and stomach that your cheeks probably mirrored the flush on Viktor’s face.

In hindsight, you never really understood why you didn’t talk back to him after that last comment. You had so many things in mind you could have said, but an unknown force pulled your attention away from his amber eyes glowing with rage to his lips instead, which were a bloody cherry red from biting on them too much. You couldn’t look away, and Viktor quickly noticed.

Then his shoulders visibly lost tension.

"Ah…prydoruk,” he whispered, mostly to himself, and you wished you understood because it somehow felt like another insult. Perplexity became fright when the loud clang of his cane falling directed your eyes to the floor, but in an instant, both of his hands were holding your face firmly, and one of them slithered in between the locks of your hair.

You hated how fast your guard fell. His fingers, icy yet delicate, caressing the lines of your jaw, were enough to disarm you completely. You mouthed multiple offenses at him under your breath as you searched for his lips. You were agonizingly in need of each other’s taste. Your hands had a strong grip on his shirt, tugging at it unintentionally as your body, which desperately wanted that idiot, tried to gripe with your rationality. The war in Viktor’s mind was a similar one, but just as much as yours, his body was unable to pull back.

Eventually you needed to catch your breath from the kiss, beyond hungry, and when you pulled back just slightly, you looked at each other like two deer in headlights, frozen in place by a blend of contradicting emotions that prevented you from moving and still holding each other closely. Viktor moved first, and when he kissed you again, you could feel his hands move almost on their own, going against his orders to wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him. He felt his lungs grow hungry for air as his tongue buried itself deep inside your throat.

“Stop pulling," he tried to whisper in between kisses. You shushed him, bringing a finger up to his lips, and started leaving a trail of kisses along his jawbone. “If you tear my shirt, I—” He tried once again, but your lips got to his neck at the same time, and his sentence changed into a muffled groan.

“I won’t. Just shut up; don’t make me think too much about this; just sh—”

“So crass,” he said as he walked backwards to the bed, pulling you along with him. “You’re so unpleasant."

“You have history that says otherwise, asshat."

You already had a leg on the bed, fully intending to push him on it to straddle his lap, but he moved faster than you could think and shifted to hover above you. He crawled up slowly without ever stopping the deep kiss you were sharing and used one of his knees to push your legs apart, positioning himself between them. You tried not to react, but the feeling of his erection against you prompted a slight chuckle to come out of your throat. 

“If this is how you get when I’m unpleasant, I can’t imagine what could happen if I were nice to you.” you smirked. He sank his teeth against your skin in response, leaving a small bite mark on your collarbone before he whispered.

“You are not funny, Zaychik."

“You’re just humorless." You said this as you pulled his shirt over his head. This must have been the open invitation he was waiting for to introduce a hand under your dress, completely bunching it up to gain precious access to your bare chest.

Although the energy of the room had shifted noticeably, the pooling heat in between you never replaced the ravenous disposition. You still felt the frustration in him as he bit into you multiple times, leaving a wake of purple and red bruises you would have to explain the next day. You didn’t know if his motivations were guided by a fit of lust or if it was a way to punish you for all of the irritation you had caused him throughout the years of knowing each other; either way, it felt good, and you did not care to keep pondering.

His hand trickled down to your underwear in excruciatingly slow designs, one of his eyebrows raising in a self-congratulatory expression when he felt the dampness of the fabric.

“Pat yourself in the back; why don't you?” You said, rolling your eyes. He did not answer, and, to your astonishment, he did not take your underwear off. He took his hand back up, bringing the fingers wet with arousal into his mouth, pulled down the elastic of his sweatpants and underwear to reveal a cock you wished you hadn’t gasped at, and pulled your underwear to the side to position himself at your entrance, all without ever breaking eye contact.

Even though he was panting abnormally loud and you could tell he would probably soon burst into a cloud of smoke, he still nodded slightly at you, asking for confirmation, and when you nodded back, he impatiently tilted his hips as far as the position allowed it and his leg could withstand, plunging into you with hungry zeal. He didn’t start slow; he was incisive and deep with every thrust, making sure he was completely inside you with every move. Calculated bastard

You used both hands around his back to hold yourself steady, your not exactly manicured nails digging into the soft flesh of his shoulder blades as you did your best to not make any noises too loud. Down on the bed under him, you pondered the dim light in the room and the curious designs of the roof. They might as well have been figments of your imagination, swirls of light and haziness as your eyes filled with tears.

You confused the erratic rhythm of his hips for what you thought at first was the arrival of his unraveling and immediately realized was simply his leg tiring out, and you gathered enough momentum to push him off of you, his back now on the bed, and you were ready to ride him. Long overdue, you thought, you couldn’t let him get his way with you without having a mirriad of his whimpers to your name. Your pace wasn’t slow either; you drove him into you with the roll of your hips, making sure you could feel him in the right spots.

The look of enamoured trance on his face as you bounced on his lap was far from the vexed expression you were expecting, and the suppressed groans of pleasure touched something in you that made you suddenly bashful. You leaned over to nuzzle your face against the crook of his neck and pressed your lips against his when his grin was getting too wide for comfort. You devoured each other again for what felt like too little time before you could feel the overwhelming heat in your core preparing you for your climax.

You tried to tell Viktor you were about to come, but something in your face must have made that obvious, because he brought you close again by the back of your neck, your mouths nearly touching each other as he spoke.

“Say my name,” he murmured into your mouth.

“Yeah, right”

The hand on your neck slithered its way up to your hair, which he tugged at firmly.

“Say it; I know you’re close.”

“Fuck you.” You hissed, neither of you being able to contain a half-pleasure, half irritation, out-of-breath groan.

It didn’t take much longer before you felt the brief pain and sweet spasm that followed it, and Viktor revealed the feeling of your walls contracting around his cock. You took a second to compose yourself with your forehead pressed against his, and then gave him a devilish grin as you slid down to his lap. His eyes opened wide when you pressed the heat of his erection flat on your tongue, taking it in as far as you could manage.

His head shot back and his face contorted in pleasure, the hand that hadn’t left your hair oscillating between pulling at it harshly and gently caressing your head. You tasted him, salty, in your throat soon enough, and sat up after swallowing every drop of it. Viktor drew you back to him, and you laid there next to each other, avoiding eye contact, even though you were too high from your orgasms to feel any regret yet.

‘Yet’ came soon enough, though.

[ask-jiro-kirisaki]

Contents of the Notebook

((Ties to my fic "One Last Concoction. Using this for a reference for Tumblr RPs with @ask-doctor-isami and TDB Server RPs))

(Spoiler tag added for people in the server that want to wait until certain RPs AND for sensitive content)

((TW: Unaliving Ideation))

One page contains a taped-on diagram of the human brain. Only a few portions are circled in red: The hypothalamus, the hippocampus, the amygdala, and the limbic cortex. Each has a line leading to different notes: Responses; Memory (preserve/retrieve); Response, Fear/Anger; Mood/Motivation/Judgment The following page lists other functions those sections of the brain control, as well as the pros and cons of removing the functions of each portion. Another page lists various chemicals naturally present in the brain as well as their functions in regard to emotion: Serotonin, Norepinephrine, Dopamine, Adrenaline, and Oxytocin There are a variety of notes scattered on the page that have been scribbled out quite heavily, save for one that seems to have been written in a hurry: "Too unstable, too unpredictable. Can't wait for results. Not enough time." Another page is littered with notes on anomalous plants and their properties. The only thing they share in common is that they have some kind of numbing effect of the mind. A note at the bottom of the page reads, "Effective for a time, but not long enough. Increasing dosage too risky. Unable to work properly while under effects." With each page, the note structure is more disjointed, almost frantic. Many things are scribbled out with notes in the margins: "Not enough." "Visions persist." "Muscle spasms." "Extreme lethargy" "Auditory Hallucinations" "Persisting GI symptoms" Looking closer, these appear to list the results of some kind of experimental drug or procedure. The rest of the pages are littered with notes: "Make it stop make it stop make it stop makeitstopmakeitstop" "imsorryimsorryimsorry" "the screaming always the screaming it never goes away" "they think I did it but it wasn't me it wasn't me it wasn't me" "I can only see your face in the blood so much blood can't stop it" "so tired so very tired" "let me sleep" "need to sleep" "helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme" "selfdefense or initative kill or wait theyll find me soon lock me up" "no choice no choice no choice need to run but where" "no escape no escape no escape no escape no escape" The writer seems to gain a little more clarity as they list more anomalous plants and fluids extracted from various anomalies. The handwriting is less clear. It seems the writer's hand may have been shaking. This list doesn't contain any notes, or even where to find them. Someone knowledgeable in anomalous medicine might be able to discern what the common denominator is between them. A page is missing, but the page after it only has one thing scrawled on it. "Forgive me brother."

[howlsmovinglibrary]

Hello! I saw your response to the "5 things you could talk about for an hour" tag game, and I just wanted to say that I am in fact very interested in your perspective on how fandom/fanfic has impacted media literacy and the publishing industry, if you'd ever like to yap on Tumblr about it!

hmmm... other people have said it better than me in various different tumblr posts but I'm a yapper why not?

(under the cut to save a long post)

fandom/fanfic impacts on media literacy:

media is viewed through shipping goggles first and a critical lens second (both of them are allowed! i love my shipping goggles! but i also like having multiple tools of analysis in my arsenal!)

this also sometimes means that media devolves into relationships and 'fan service' moments, above plot or delivery of a good and satisfactory story (I'm not saying OFMD but I kind of am. I'm not saying BG3 additional content that has focused on popular characters and ships above incomplete and underwritten narratives... but I kind of am)

because fandom now also has a big purity culture kick back, and fandom has become mainstream, that means mainstream media also has a purity culture kick back (for instance, everyone performing scandalised and 'disgusted' reactions to Saltburn, when actually all that is is a... psychological thriller)

fandom/fanfic impacts on the publishing industry:

the Locked Tomb's popularisation of fic-ish writing, alongside the reylo fanfic boom (Ali Hazelwood serial numbers filed off -> romance pipeline) kind of coincided perfectly with the pandemic. as did the success of Travis Baldree's coffeeshop AU, Legends and Lattes. people wanted comfort media, but at the other end, publishing industry professionals were working from home and likely spread thin. I think this created a perfect storm for 'fast fiction' (like 'fast fashion') where basically a fanfic can be quickly changed into a book with minimal editing that doesn't matter anyway bc it provides a dopamine hit. None of this is inherently bad. I don't dislike fanfic-to-published-novel on principle. What I *hate*, is bad editing. Extremely high quality editing is what trad publishing has, in a way fic doesn't. Bc fic can be as long as you want it to be, and can linger, and can have fun - it's not designed for efficiency or quality control bc that's not the point. that being said... quality control can, in fact, improve a work's quality. but trad publishing doesn't have good editing anymore, bc the pandemic proved it didn't necessarily need it, and publishing companies love to not spend money on things, especially if it will make them a profit without that care or attention.

what i will also say, is there is a reason it's easy to file the serial numbers off. reylo fics are very far from canon, for a number of reasons. Legends and Lattes is a coffeeshop AU, without any character work. This doesn't mean they are bad. It just means they feed into a general trend of 'fic as tropes' - rather than 'fic as character study', for instance - which in turn means that romance in particular has also become 'romance as tropes' (or even 'romance as smut' which is another thing I have feelings about, bc bad editing + fiction as smut = really, really bad smut actually lads)

in general 'fiction as tropes' has then obviously been aided by tiktok as the primary marketing platform. rather than provide an explanation of your story, providing an explanation of its tropes encourages your book being read this way

another thing that has happened as a result of fic is 'queer rep' as being 'there is queer people in it' or 'there is queer romance in it'. again, not inherently a bad thing. i love a gay book. but gay and queer experiences exist on a spectrum. a book with queer MCs for the sake of having queer MCs may end up feeling tokenistic, if the writer has included queer rep for the sake of queer rep, or (and we need to admit this happens!) to be trendy!! to hit on the 'queer rep' zeitgeist!!! similarly, a queer book without any romance in it can still be queer, but gods forbid we have *that* conversation.

As I said, all of these things have been discussed in tumblr posts far better than mine. In terms of my personal experience - teaching undergraduate literature classes, this is what I've noticed:

because of fandom or social media with fandom lite edges, a lot of my students are very up-to-date on things such as intersectional feminism, gender performativity, compulsory heterosexuality, queer coding, etc. I don't need to define these terms, whereas they were defined when I was an undergrad.

however, the flipside of this is they often approach the texts I teach only with a contemporary mindset. The biggest example I have of this is Jane Eyre. Jane Eyre actually benefits from a contemporary mindset - after being heralded as feminist in the 1960s, intersectional criticisms in the 1980s/90s by postcolonial critics called out its racist treatment of Bertha Mason. BUT if I have to read another essay about Jane Eyre's relationship with Rochester being 'problematic', I will scream. Not bc I don't agree, but because criticisms of this novel need to also acknowledge that in the victorian era, such a blatant discussion of female sexual desire was radical for its time. That class and sexism was a big enough issue in the 19th century that for Jane to get to marry a man from the landed gentry on equal footing was a big deal at the time. It's fine if you decide Jane Eyre isn't feminist! but you need to prove that through multiple critical lenses and not just a jezebel-article style treatise. (for instance, one essay critiqued the male gaze in Jane Eyre... Jane Eyre was written by a woman looking very disrespectfully actually, and also... film hadn't been invented yet. while the male gaze existed in art, the normalising of female objectification, sexually, required film. also... the male gaze is a term that requires a man with eyes to be making that piece of art.)

the other biggest problem I have when teaching, is the 'queer character as queer representation' thing, and ESPECIALLY "good queer representation means morally good queer characters'. I teach Giovanni's Room. Anyone who has read Giovanni's Room, knows that the main character is both gay... and a bad person. That book isn't just talking about being gay, but about being closeted, trapped in compulsory heteronormativity, and also... 1950s racism. One of the biggest challenges for me as a teacher is to ask students "don't just tell me there's gay people in it, look at what those gay people are doing. is queerness portrayed positively or negatively? what aspects of the experience are being represented? do these aspects have value, especially when it is a queer artist making the art?"

(people also feel like they can't call a gay character mean or bad, because of the whole 'gay is inherently virtuous' part of fandom's mindset. spoilers: gay people can suck too. and are allowed to be portrayed as such in fiction, once you have a tool in your toolkit known as nuance).

anyway, aside from the fact it means i occasionally struggle to find good romance books bc I want not just well written sex but character development - which fanfic has! I'm not saying fanfic doesn't have it! but the fanfic that gets published sometimes doesn't, and certainly very rarely has both! - my teaching is absolutely where I see fandom's impact most clearly.

[uwusillygirl]

HAPPY END OF KINKTOBER! UWUSILLYGIRL'S BIG HUGE THANK YOU POST!

hi!!!!

first and foremost, i'd love to thank everyone for such a fabulous kinktober. i was tentative about doing something within the community; i was worried no one would participate, or i would be organizing an event "wrong", or that people would feel limited by my prompts and suggestions. you all made sure that absolutely NONE OF THESE FEARS WERE WARRANTED! everyone came with the COOLEST shit.

here is a brief collection of some of my personal favorites; either just stunningly written, fascinatingly done, or personally my cup of tea (and i will not tell you which is which! lmao!)

A SHORT LIST OF SOME FANTASTIC PIECES (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER):

@aicosu's "KNOCK KNOCK": oxy-addicted, adhd, dopamine hole eddie and fastidious, nerdy, ex-fundamentalist chrissy meet at the glory hole of a seedy sex arcade. visceral, headachey, and so hot.

@staceymcgillicuddy's whole series was awesome, but i LOVED their "humiliation + bladder control" prompt especially. nasty and mean!

@jewelledfoxes' also had banger after banger, but i really loved their bottoming from the top prompt, "i'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck" .

the anonymously posted "if loving you is wrong, I don't want to be right": the most charming, sweetest little take on hybristophilia a girl has ever seen! chrissy sees eddie being very evil and bad (read as: harmless graffiti) and is simply swept away by his raw criminality. so cute, soft, silly, fantastic.

@chrissy-n-eddie's "Bottom Bunk", a one-shot using "gender bend" and "spit" to give the CUTEST DAMN SAPPHIC CAMP COUNSELOR PUSSY EATING FIC TO EVER EXIST MAYBE EVER? THEY'VE GOT SUNBURNED NOSES! THEY'RE IN LITTLE YELLOW T-SHIRTS!

@bettercraic went big-brained as all hell with their jonathan/nancy/eddie/chrissy voyuerism installment, "let's make a team". quick and sexy.

@erythromanc3r wrote this mean and insane and nasty one-shot, "kiss me where you bruise me" that is the hottest anything ever. you're never gonna guess what i loved about it (kidding. you will. it's mean.)

FINALLY! i would like to thank those who stuck to THEIR OWN HARD LIMITS, CREATED WHOLE SERIES, OR WANTED TO DO SOMETHING ELSE! we had some people make whole cohesive (@hunter-gatherer-stuff) stories, we had some people come in and write about pimple popping, we had people write shit (@badlydrawnlips) based on my own indulgent little kink dynamics (sorry, couldn't not mention that one... so baller), and best of all, we had people write their own stuff when the prompts were not for them. that made my heart so happy.

A FINAL PERVERT'S NOTE:

if you are working on a kinktober series that's gonna take more time, if you have prompts in process that you suddenly have the urge to finish, if you wake up in a cold sweat on december 3rd and just NEED to write about spit, fucking do it and tag it. i love you so much. every day is kinktober if you are a true pervert. take your time, love your life, remember that fanfiction (like art in general!) should be an enjoyable effort and made under your own rules!

there is still some stuff i have left to read on the tag! and i loved literally everything i read, this is just a rapid-fire word vomit. i PROMISE i will get around to anything unread soon! i am so unbelievably pleased about this month, thank you all again so, so, so much!

[luvvyd0vey]

Fanfiction has absolutely ruined traditional books for me in the best and worst ways possible;

It’s made my expectations of the pace and amount of dopamine I should get from each and every scene skyrocket

It’s made me grow addicted to basically being able to find the exact very specific concept I crave at any moment because all I have to do on websites like Ao3 is put in the pairing or fandom and the tags I want and I can scroll however long I want until I find something that really peaks my interest, especially cause I have the luxury of passing by fics that don’t grab my attention and run away with it

Not only that but the long wait you have after hearing about a book and having to order it into your local library which could take weeks and so either a) the anticipation is building and so you either thoroughly enjoy the book or are greatly disappointed or b) by the time you get the book you are much less enthralled about it and instead of being really into it and are really just reading it for the fact you had to wait so long for it - but with fanfiction as soon as you read the tags and summary (not only can you see the amount of views, likes, comments, words and chapters) the excitement is already there and you are hit with rush after rush of dopamine.

And if the fic turns out to be disappointing or unfinished, it’s quite likely you can find a very similar fic to fulfil your needs almost immediately so you don’t stay disappointed for long.

And you get to directly interact with the fic writer which on its own I love.

Fanfic writers always have just so much love for their fic and you can often see that in their work, which with a lot of traditional writers it seems like they are dragging themselves to finish it off.

And it’s super easy to get into a fic whether or not you’re in a fandom as often you don’t really need much knowledge on the cannon material, but if you do and loved it then that strong emotional connection to characters is prebuilt, whilst with traditional writers they have to build that up which is where a lot of books fall flat, whereas if a fic writer made the same mistake then it’s okay because you already know the character from the original material.

The most mid quality fanfics often beat what I would consider 4 star books.

Also when I first discovered fanfic just so happened to be the time I was going through my first book slump (which then lasted 7 years) and I don’t know if the rush I got from fic only encouraged my book slump or if it would have lasted this long anyway, but it definitely raised my expectations and made slow-starting books difficult to bring myself to open.

Also a lot of my favourite writing concepts are things entirely found in fanfiction or just little stories/oneshots I read here on tumblr and NEVER in official published books. And if there ARE hints of them in traditional books they are usually minimal and badly written, and/or almost completely ignored in favour of smut.

And that goes onto my next point which is in fics, I know what I’m getting into before I even click on it; I’m immediately shown what type of content I’m about to consume (as in rating, the pairing(s), if there’s smut or hurt/comfort or what) whereas with books I often have to really dig to find out what sort of content is in it without buying the book and seeing the content warnings on the first few pages, which is an issue if you are trying to avoid a smut scene which was in no way hinted at in the blurb.

My main reason to try get back into traditional books is reading new content with new characters, be able to talk about it with my family (without having to explain the concept of fanfiction), and maybe possibly to put on display in my home.

But as I’ve been picking up books to read, I’m realising how much fanfic has raised my expectations for writing and having the best pick for whatever storyline I’d like and have come to the conclusion it has honestly ruined me, and possibly my attention span.

I don’t know

I’ll probably post several more-coherent posts about this later but for now enjoy my raw thoughts.

[winxanity-ii]

❀ ° • • • ╮ 𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 ╰ • • • ° ❀

18+ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤(𝐬) | 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭

The name's Xani, and welcome to my blog where i push out all the delusional scenarios/stories—both sfw and nsfw—my maladaptive daydreams like to stir up...

i'm not really sure how this goes, but if you guys have an idea you'd like to see written, send it, and hopefully my delusions will work in overdrive to complete them...

um, what else? i guess all i can say is hold on because i tend to bounce from fandom to fandom due to my attention/dopamine span-some range from a few days-weeks, others months, but right now i'm hooked on anime ❤️.

also, don't hold back! though i may be new to this posting stuff, i've had my fair share of experiences, so whatever you think of, i most likely dabbled in it...

and if i do a good enough job on something and have more spunk in the gunk, i'll do my best to do a continuation on whatever...

also, don't be afraid to reblog/like either! it let's me know i'm doing a good job (not that i like being praised or anything hahahah, unless 👀)

i guess that's all. bye!

other useless info: ╰┈➤ ✨ 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭　𝐦𝐞 ✨

𝘀𝗵𝗲/𝗵𝗲𝗿 | 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗽-𝘁 | AuDHD / neurodivergent | 04 / 18+ | 𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼g𝗶𝘀𝘁 | support me on ko-fi (i accept commissions/requests) other accounts: archive of our own / wattpad / quotev

check out my sister's page for more writing's like this; she does a multitude of fandoms just like I do, so it you like my writing style/fics, you'll adore her's ❤️😩: 🇰‌-🇳‌🇦‌🇾‌🇪‌🇪‌

FANDOMS I WRITE FOR **

Recent Fic: 𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐭 ~ Install 5 | 🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽 | Yandere!Andy x Fem!Reader / Alien!AU

Top 6 Recent One-shots:

Resonance | various!bnha / bnha!au

Damned Devotion 🔞 | father charlie / grotesquerie!au

Father, Forgive Me 🔞 | father charlie / grotesquerie!au

Second, Servitude 🔞 | incubus!gojo (ft.geto) / non-sorcerer!au

Divine Corruption 🔞 | father charlie / non-grotesquerie!au

Scarlet Chains, Golden Riddles | kurapika / hunterxhunter!au

**Please note that this blog is intended for audiences aged 18 years and above, minors DNI. Here, you'll find a mix of both safe-for-work (SFW), not safe-for-work (NSFW), and dark content.

And just a friendly reminder, if you prefer not to see certain types of content or are under 18, it's best not to proceed further. While I cannot fully control who accesses my work, if you so happen to be a minor who ignores this warning, and honestly, can't shame 'cuz I did the same when I was younger💀 I encourage you to read at your own discretion.

PLEASE READ BELOW BEFORE REQUESTING:

NOTE: I do NOT have a set writing-schedule! This is just a space for me to dump my self-insert writings, but feel free to ask questions/leave comments, they make my day 😊❤️❤️.... (though if you want something specifically done/requested faster, you can support me on my ko-fi.)

Also, I will NOT be responding to malicious Anonymous/Anon asks or posts; if you do, you will receive 1 reminder of this before getting ignored. It's nothing personal—I just prefer to respond to someone whose intentions are to criticism/expect me to change to their desires. If you have genuine questions, thoughts, or feedback, please reach out so we can have a real conversation, as well as get your questions fully answered and see more about what my mind is coming up with!

If not all, the majority of my work(s) will be written with the heavy intentions of poc!reader/black!reader but can be read by any ethnicities/races. Also, please understand that anything I write is solely for my enjoyment—if anything, you guys are just tagging along witnessing my delusions come to life in real-time; if you don’t like what I create, scram and make your own…like I did 😁

P.S. The quickest and swiftest way to get blocked is by telling me what I need to do in my writing(s)... like, be for real 😐

Also, and I can't possibly stress this enough, please refrain from stealing/plagiarizing ANY of my works! I am passionate about sharing my creations on this platform, but I must emphasize that I am the sole legal owner and author of any of my works posted. Any unauthorized use or plagiarism of my work will result in immediate takedown and legal action taken. Respect for copyright is essential to maintain the integrity of my original storyline and the characters within, and if not, I have zero-problems with taking them down indefinitely! Enjoy~😊

Key: xani-writes: (works/fics) xani-speaks: (random thought) xani-responds: (usually responses to asks/etc.) xani-navi: (my master lists/etc)

𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: lulu-4-u | Lusion