So Many Fandoms... So Little Time...

Crop of my 2nd piece for Insatiable: a NSFW Sylvix zine, with, surprise, surprise, DANCER SYLVAIN

I also posted my piece on AO3 for your enjoyment 😌

we're looking to create an AI policy, and when we were talking about this, my boss (older millennial) was genuinely shocked to hear that younger people do not (seem) to view AI positively (a la the recent commencement speakers being booed)

please rb for larger sample size!

Question 1/3

Thank you for helping with this data collection. Please rb for as big a sample as possible!

No email is necessary to input to complete the survey. Please also consider sharing this off tumblr with people in your life to get a broader sample, especially people who love history and love museums!

send me a word/phrase to practice my smut writing lmao - this turned into sugar au as predicted im so sorry anon…..

“Have you ever been?” Shane asks, the faux-nonchalance that Ilya is becoming so familiar with. “Vegas, I mean?”

Something clicks, when he says it; the pieces of the puzzle that make up Shane Hollander finally coming together. He’s been acting strange all morning, stranger than usual, and Ilya was just on the verge of worried. But it makes sense, now. Ilya looks up from his laptop, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Yes, is very easy to go from Canada to US for a vacation. On a Russian student visa. To gamble the zero money I have.”

Shane nods, considering. His hair is longer than Ilya has ever seen it, long enough to pull into a small bun at the nape of his neck. It looks good. He looks good, fresh off the playoffs and all hard muscle and mottled, purple bruises. His grey sweatpants sit low on his hips, showing off his overly-defined abs and the huge bloom of purple covering his ribs. Ilya licks his lips, the movement almost subconscious; Shane fucking Hollander.

The semester is almost over; finals are done. McGill didn’t get far in the University Cup this year, something Ilya has been stewing over since they were knocked out in the first bracket. He tears his gaze away from the stupid, attractive hockey legend in front of him and focuses back on the post-season reports on his screen.

“I could probably figure it out,” Shane muses, almost to himself. “If you wanted to.”

“Hollander, we both know what the issue is,” Ilya doesn’t bother looking up from his laptop screen, “Goalie is shit, defence is a mess. I do not need you to captain my team, thank you.”

“What? Oh, no, not that. I mean, I can help with your post-season, if you want, but. No. I meant for Vegas.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Vegas?” Ilya complains, finally taking the bait. He slams his laptop shut, letting it slip from his lap and onto Shane’s stupid green couch. He looks way too happy to have finally captured Ilya’s attention, his plump lips turned out into a smirk. Ilya watches his push his glasses a little further up his nose with suspicion.

“The NHL awards.” Shane shrugs, and there’s that faux-nonchalance again. There’s more confidence there now, though, and with Ilya’s lap finally free of his computer, Shane takes the initiative to replace it. He crosses the room in a few quick, purposeful strides, and suddenly his huge frame is pressing down against Ilya’s thighs. He’s always liked this about Shane, the weight of him, a wall of muscle. He brackets him with his thighs, knees pressing into Ilya’s hips, and weaves a hand into his curls.

“The Oscars. See, I can name award shows, too.”

“Mm, you’re funny,” Shane pans, and kisses his jaw. “No, I mean, I have the NHL awards in two weeks. And you finished all your finals, and the U-Cup is over.”

Shane has been in face offs against Ilya for years, even if they didn't have their thing of the ice, he knows his face by memory. Which is why he notices when a mole in the underside of his jaw gets bigger.

It's the 2015-2016, middle of the hookup era, and he is truing to get this motherfucker to see a dermatologist, but nothing he says works. Ilya either distracts him or dismisses him with some stupid denial like russians don't get melanoma.

But the mole keeps changing and now its not even the same consistent color and Shane has googled the signs so he says fuck it, I'm gonna make him.

Shane uses his barely active public account to tweet a list of Boston based dermatologist and tags Ilya in each one.

This of course goes crazy with the fans because what the hell? Shane Hollander? Tweeting at Ilya Rozanov? Doctors? This is a very advanced very strange chirp? Is he calling his moles ugly?

The next time the Boston Raiders have a game the media scrum doesn't even try to pretend they came for another thing, they want to know about the Dermatologist Thread.

Ilya, at this point frustrated because his moles are fine, they're perfect, why is this a problem, so he answers.

"Hollander should mind his own businesses, he wants me to visit stupid skin doctor because he sees mole. I have lots of moles, always had, there's no problem here, it's normal mole!"

And Shane is getting out of his own game a few hours later, prepares himself to answer about the fumble in the second period when the media comes, and it's surprised when, instead, he gets shown a clip of Ilya's earlier interview. Now, this fucking reckless motherfucker, Shane explodes.

"You fucking asshole! You want to die by driving a Porsche into a wall be my guest! But you're gonna die of the most stupid thing in existence! A MOLE! A mole you decided not to check even if it changed size and color and it's in your fucking face where we can all see it every fucking face off with arena lights shining right into it! Why? Because you're stupid and you don't want to go to the doctor and you don't respect the sun. You're gonna die from a perfectly preventable thing and then what are I'm gonna do? I'm gonna be the best hockey player in mi generation with 10 cups and Harts and Conn Smythes and no competition because you're gonna be in the history books as that one promising dude who died from a mole. A mole! Go to the fucking doctor and use fucking sunscreen."

That one goes viral. That one breaches containment and goes internacional meme viral.

Shane Hollander Skin Cancer Awareness King.

There's "Go to the fucking doctor and use fucking sunscreen" T-Shirts.

Shane Hollander angry sneering face with the text "RESPECT THE SUN" under it.

Ilya Rozanov gets bullied relentlessly about it, everyone asking if he has gone to the doctor yet. He doesn't answer. Eventually, he appears with a new scar in his jaw where a wonky mole used to be.

@hr-rep you see the people of the internet are going to argue if Shane Hollander was the guy who noticed a suspicious mole in his lover's face and had to resort to public pressure to get him to get it checked

Or if Ilya Rozanov was the dude who fell in love because "oh god my hot rival started screaming at me and saved my life"

LGBTQ+ color coded tags — part of my AO3 Tweaks collection

an Add-on that color-codes LGBTQ+ tags on AO3 using their corresponding pride flag colors — so you can see at a glance what identities are in a fic while you're browsing✨

covers up to 30 orientations and the code is really detailed so hopefully any related tag variation will get picked up!

How to install?

Log into AO3 and go to Dashboard → Skins → My Site Skins → Create Site Skin (or click on the link it will take you straight to it)

Give it a name, then paste the code into the CSS field

Click Submit and then Use to activate it!

Code found here : lgbt-tags-light.css — for light themes lgbt-tags-dark.css— for dark themes