#THE HAPPY CHEMICAL TY

[etchedstars]

got any fic writers to shout out??

omg omgomgomg okay !!! this is in no way a complete list but i have to study (i. didnt forget i definitely didnt forget i have a math test tmrw) ALSO i dont have access to ao3 rn so i cant. really give fic names i apologize)

@bookinit02 i!!!!!! know the end!!!!!!! got me terrified and leaving deranged little comments every time you update really thriving off our suffering also the 5+1 coming out story is one of my favorites genuinely left me staring at my ceiling for thirty minutes after reading it i love it sm

@astrobei in a constant mood of giggling hysterically grinning at my phone whenever i read your fics just. the inner monologue and the characterization and the plots and idk everything it reduces me to keysmashes every . single . time

@lookslikefireflies the other day i sat down and read all of your st fics in one go and it was the best thing ever actually such a blessing and i cant remember the name of it but the willel byler one its just. it is so so clever and cute i love it to death

@smoosnoom ., thinking abt eyecatcher on a daily basis also one of my favorite fics ever top tier life changing along w the rest of your works ofc but. i have an unhealthy attachment to eyecatcher in particular

@parkitaco its parkers fault im here guys also you write byler relationship w each other SO SO well it feels. really genuine idk like. like you can picture them also that fic you posted on thanksgiving the glowy one. you are so lucky i was walking around while reading it bc i was abt to throw my phone several times

OK there are more there are lots more but. i should probably try to finish my study guide now ty for the ask :))

[earlycuntsets]

Thank you for your effort with the website! It’s awesome! :D

thank you so much! i wasn't sure if anyone saw the update. so happy it's working for you!! sending you some angels:

07/2005 rock one (france)

[bowandbrush]

I'm pretty new to Tumblr, but I am so excited to see another Christian in the fandom! I love your work, keep it up, and have an amazing day! ❤️

Welcome! Also, it makes me so happy to find gems like you too! (In this case, you found me) Blessings to you :D

[delirisse]

he’s had it rough :( remember to squish your ayms and tell him you love him

[lizardtheacorn]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 10000 likes!

[zukkaoru]

AHHH I LOVE SHIP ASKS!! tachigin and/or nobamaki? <3

tachigin

What made you ship it?

so you see the thing about having gin as your favorite character is that it is. so so hard to find any fics or art about them. i actually started out only liking platonic tachigin and being firmly against romantic tachigin but then i read some tachigin fics bc i was so desperate for anything gin-centric and. i sort of fell headfirst into the ship

What are your favorite things about the ship?

the fact that they can work so well together without gin even needing to speak,, the angst of the betrayal,, gin giving tachihara a sexuality crisis while he thinks they're a boy and then another crisis when he finds out they're not a boy but also not a girl....

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

when people refer to tachigin as a het ship i bring out my knives. also i once saw someone say that tachigin would be infinitely more popular if gin wasn't revealed to be a girl and they were absolutely right

-

nobamaki

What made you ship it?

the scene between them after maki breaks apart the fight between nobara and mai ("i really respect you, maki-san!")

What are your favorite things about the ship?

i do love a good "gfs who could both kill you" ship and also just.. the idea of the two of them slowly getting more comfortable around each other and letting themselves be vulnerable (the potential for this post-shibuya is especially good,,, ohh post-shibuya nobamaki would be so good if only gege wasn't a coward)

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

i don't think i have any for them

[delusional-angel]

[potato-lord-but-not]

Genuinely just wanting to give you the happy chemicals but holy shit you're an amazing person and I love you and your art style ❤️❤️

Oh well gosh thank you!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

[astarriscus]

i am. look ive always loved music but lately ive been really fixated on music as a whole and literature as well for a while now! i really want to write inspired off that <3

[c0nt3nt-d3le7ed]

i have so much energy now waaaaa

[etchedstars]

hey just wanted to say ur fics are SUPREME and i just found u on tumblr which is a Crime im p sure. anyway hi big overdue fan here !!! sending love 💖💖💖

oh my god thank you so much !!!!!! for this ask and for reading my fics ty :)) <333

[pathologicalreid]

hello!! i've been reading your spencer works for a while and they're definitely one of my favorites from this app :) so I'd like to request something :)

I've always loved the idea of spencer coming back home from a case earlier than expected and surprising reader (gf or wife) at work to pick her up! and reader could be a chemist or a scientist so spencer is interested and involved in her work somehow and they're just talking, being cute and fluffy and just happy to he together again <3 thank you for your time, and no pressure!

pure and applied chemistry | S.R.

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: fluff content warnings: fem!reader, chemical burns, lab incidents, yapper!reader, kisses word count: 1.06k a/n: i wasn't even going to post this today but i wrote it and fell in love with spencer and his biochemist gf!!!!! this might be a pairing that i start taking requests for - thank you so much for requesting!

The air was barely starting to chill in the district, making it still unseasonably warm as you tried to take off your jacket without removing your book bag. It would’ve been easy to be embarrassed, but you were the only person around this part of campus – most students had a Reading Day, but your lab was still open, and your graduate student still wanted to work.

You had been the last person in the lab that she approached with her idea, having been turned down by the rest of campus, but you weren’t one to turn down a challenge. In fact, you had been so bored in the lab that you considered applying for another PhD.

Tying the sleeves of your jacket around your waist, you pulled your phone out of the back pocket to check the campus transportation app. As you started typing in your passcode, your eyes caught on a notification from your boyfriend.

Spencer Reid, PhD: Not home until tomorrow.

Sending back a quick emoticon – because an emoji would just show up as a square on his phone – you switched to checking what time the bus was supposed to show up at your stop before a passing car caught your eye, the car slowed to a stop right in front of you. “Oh,” you said, shaking your head, “It’s illegal to idle at a bus stop!” You called out to the driver, “You can’t stop here!”

Startled, you took a step back when the driver opened their car door, gripping your phone tightly as you mentally prepared for a confrontation, but only ended up confused when a familiar mess of brown hair peeked over the roof of the vehicle, “You don’t recognize my car?”

“Of course, I recognize your car! I just didn’t think it could be your car because last you told me you were in Nebraska!” You said, outwardly complaining as he rounded the hood of the car to open the passenger door for you.

Spencer smiled at you over the car door, “I told a fib in order to reap the benefits of surprising my girlfriend at work. Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

Rolling your eyes as you sat in your seat, “Oh, I’m sure she could probably find the strength to forgive you.” You were beaming as Spencer took your book bag and placed it in the back seat.

As you buckled your seatbelt, Spencer got back behind the wheel, checking his mirrors before merging into the road, once you reached your first stop light, you noticed Spencer looking over at you, “What did you do to your arm?” He asked, making note of the gauze wrapped around your dominant forearm.

Frowning, you looked down at your arm, having previously forgotten the gauze was even there, “Chemical burn,” you answered indifferently, studying the first aid on your arm. “Not a bad one though, probably won’t even scar,” you added. “Oh, that reminds me, I need a new lab coat,” you blurted, fishing around the center console of Spencer’s car for a pen so you could scrawl a reminder on your uninjured forearm.

“How did you get a chemical burn on your arm?” Spencer asked, returning his eyes to the road when the light turned green. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he reached over and casually placed one hand on your denim-clad thigh.

You were no stranger to a small burn on your finger – you were fairly certain that your fingerprints were no longer a viable way of identification – but you usually got away with a thorough rinse and a unicorn band-aid. “My grad student, Leslie, mislabeled something in the lab. Another person tried to get me to report it, but Leslie cried so hard while she was helping me clean my arm that I didn’t want to get her in any sort of academic misconduct trouble. I mean, who knew that hydrochloric acid caused chemical burns anyway?”

Spencer deftly flicked the turn signal as he moved to get on the highway to his apartment, “Uh, you and I know,” he said, there was a critical tone in his voice, but it was directed toward your flippancy instead of the injury itself.

“It wasn’t super concentrated, so I’m really fine,” you insisted, telling him the same thing you had told Leslie when the incident occurred, “I’ve done worse.”

Smiling, your boyfriend shook his head, “It’s a wonder they still let you in chemistry labs.” He was referring to a burn you had given yourself a few months ago, leading to an embarrassing trip to the hospital where doctors had to debride a nasty burn to your thigh. That particular incident had led to the director of your lab gifting you an enamel pin, designed to look like a hazardous materials symbol.

You looked at him, watching intently as he exited off the highway and made it to his apartment. Not long ago, an impromptu trip to Spencer’s would’ve been an inconvenience, but now you had two drawers of his dresser as your own. He led the way up the stairs and you followed him through the door of apartment twenty-three.

Locking the door before turning all of his attention to you, he cupped your face in both of his hands before kissing both of your cheeks – right over the tender, red lines left by your lab goggles. “Promise me you’ll be more careful in the lab,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and herding you over to the couch.

As you sat down on the couch, Spencer joined you, grabbing at your hips until you gave in, seating yourself in his lap, one knee on either side of his hips. You intertwined your fingers at the back of his neck, tilting your head to the side, “We’re all done with tests anyway – there will be considerably fewer chemicals involved while I get on my knees and grovel to the federal government for funding to start a clinical trial,” you told him, considering the repercussions of pressing your lips to his.

“What kind of chemicals could you possibly need to apply for federal research grants?” Spencer asked, gently resting his hands on your waist.

Beaming, you waggled your eyebrows at him, “One, three, seven-Trimethylpurine-two, six-dione, baby.”

Realization dawned on his features as he understood, “Ah, caffeine.”

[chris-prank]

stumbled across ur blog and love ur writing sm!! i have such a thing for pathetic yanderes…. ty for ur service 🙏🙏🙏

wouldn’t it be funny if hero reader and dr. seraph met at some random place outside of hero’s “working hours”?? like what if they both just happen to be waiting in the hour line DMV line and hero reader is in their casual clothes (sweats or something) and notices first and is like shitshitshitshitshitshit LOLLLLL

It's an honor for me to serve the fans of pathetic yanderes 🫡

I realize that I didn’t specify it in the first part of Dr. Seraph story, but he actually never got thrown in jail! Also, in my head, this world has cartoon superhero logic, so no one can recognize Dr. Seraph when he is not in his crazy scientist attire. So in this situation I imagine Vincent being the one recognizing the hero, either it’s because he had stalked them before or their identity is widely known. Despite that, your idea has so much potential for funny and awkward moments, I love it!

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

He had lost count on how long he had been waiting. 40 minutes? One hour? He didn’t really care anymore. Compared to his criminal life, waiting in line at the DMV was a pleasant breeze. Thinking of the breeze, he had luckily brought his white cardigan, which now protected him from the morning cold.

His fingers mindlessly ran over the golden feathers embroidered on the sleeves as he stared at some rocks on the ground, lost in thought.

“Excuse me?”

A voice called out to him. Pulled from his reverie, Vincent turned his head while answering.

“Y-yes?”

That’s when he was met with you. The love of his life hero who has been fighting him and his boss for years. There you were, in your civilian clothes, waiting in the same line as him!

OH SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT. WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE? DID THEY RECOGNIZE ME? AAAAAAAAAAH!

Many more obscenities were silently screamed in his mind as he stared at you, his face quickly turning red as a tomato. He was so absorbed by his internal panic that he didn’t even register what you had told him. You were surely warning him to not make any sudden moves and to put his hands up.

“I’m s-so sorry, b-but I didn’t quite catch what you said…”

“I just wanted to tell you that I really like your cardigan, the embroidery on the sleeves are so cute.” Your eyes darted away from him and he swore your face got a little flushed as you repeated yourself.

Was he hallucinating? Did the years of working with toxic chemicals finally affected his brain? He stood there, his mouth agape. If you hadn't noticed how red the man was before, you surely did notice now.

“I love your sweatpants!” He blurted out.

There was an awkward silence for a few milliseconds, as Vincent realized the words that had flown out of his mouth, “N-Not em everyone can pull them off…”

“Really?” You chuckle gently, “I’m glad you think so… Actually when I saw your cute outfit I got a little self conscious about my “no effort day” fit.”

“What?! But you always look good no matter what you wea— I mean, I’m sure you do… not that I would know eh eh…”

Wow, he was really making it worse for himself wasn’t he? At that moment, he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear… Now that he thought about it, he should try to create something that allows him to do that.

After some more chatting, you shook his hand and excused yourself for bothering him. He told you not to be sorry and that he was happy he got to talk to you, for no particular reason of course.

As Vincent continued to wait for his turn to come up, he opened and closed his fist. He mentally noted to scrape off the bit of your DNA that was left on his palm, back at his laboratory, as a souvenir.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I hope you didn’t mind me slightly switching things up and liked my response! 🙏🏻

[cxndiedvi0lets]

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwith me ♡ ty.

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𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞. ❀

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Hi, Im Violet, and I'm 18+, Please ask for my age in DM. Thank you ! I'm a She/Her, but I'm comfortable with any pronouns. I'm also a founder of the band called 'The Nomads' and lead singer. I am an INFP-T, My house is Slytherin, My Cabin is Cabin 5 Ares, and my Zodiac Sign is a Gemini. I am also a Semi-Literate Roleplayer, and I'm dead. lol.

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[landwriter]

Picnic | Dream/Hob | 1.7K | G light and happy fluff, Hob loves springtime, Matthew hates giving dating advice, and the only pining is Dream pining for an A+ in dating, a thing that is both normal to want and possible to achieve

for Domaystic Drabbles, Day 4: Packed Lunch ty to @softest-punk for twigging me to the sweet @domaystic prompts. It got a little out of hand!

----

Hob had seen several thousand fine spring days. He’d seen keen snowdrops surfacing in February, a hundred congregations of crocuses bursting forth to greet the turning of the seasons, and entire delegations of wild daffodils lancing through leaf-fall and trumpeting their blossoms with an attitude that suggested they knew themselves to be the first and only creatures to master the colour yellow. He’d watched six centuries of human habitation dusted with the same fine pollen as alder and birch unfurled their catkins like festival garlands, and he’d— he’d gotten distracted again.

He blinked at the paper in front of him. He’d forgotten it was there. Or that he was meant to be grading it.

That, too: six centuries of the wild joy of spring distracting him from whatever passed for worthy toil at the time. Six centuries of the whiff of warm breeze setting off some yet-unexplained chemical reaction in his brain that made him want to dash outside and not come back in for weeks. Six centuries of him becoming temporarily mad and cheerfully insufferable to all those around him with the joy of it. He’d never get used to it, and Christ help him if he let anyone around him get used to it either.

“What a gorgeous day,” he remarked, to the untouched stack of student work.

It said nothing back, but he beamed down at it anyway, and then, sighing in the manner of a man happy to be defeated, turned his office chair to face the cracked-open window and watch the house martins build their newest nest.

---

“Matthew.”

“Yeah, boss?”

“I require your counsel. For a human matter.” Dream’s brow was furrowed, his manner grave. Hob, then.

Matthew inclined his head and hopped sideways in what he’d decided was the corvid equivalent of girding his loins.

“Hob keeps commenting on the weather on our outings.” He sounded anguished.

“The weather?” he repeated dumbly. Thank fuck. Two days ago it had been the number of orgasms human males required. Daily. Which, good for the two of them, but c’mon. Matthew had really not needed that knowledge about the kind of refractory period and appetite you acquire after half a millenia of boning. Hob, unfortunately, was Dream’s first human boyfriend, and the boss was setting about his new function with all the usual terrifying intensity and insane demands of perfection. In service of this, Matthew (unilaterally and undemocratically, he might add) had been named Arbiter Of All Things Men, which seemed kind of like a reach considering he was a bird, and one who’d been only, like, a little bisexual in his human life. The Corinthian was always skulking around. He wasn’t human either, but at least he’d fucked dudes. He’d have tips. Or Loosh! Loosh knew everything. She could give Dream books and send him off. Instead of Matthew trying to remember how the fuck dating worked.

“-time we’ve met this week.”

“Right,” said Matthew vaguely.

“What does he mean by it? He knows I cannot change the weather in the Waking. He asks nothing of me, and yet it is incessant.”

“Complaining about it, huh? Humans love to complain, boss.”

“No,” said Dream, looking wretched. “Worse. Earnest, ceaseless praise.”

“Oh. Sure. Of course.” What?

Dream was pacing the throne room like he was auditioning for community theater. “At the National Gallery, he daydreamed of the city park outside while feigning to contemplate a Pesellino. I took him to a production of Macbeth at the Globe, and afterwards, he said that even after centuries, it was never less than marvelous to watch. He was referring to the swifts feeding above us in the third act. Naturally.”

Matthew made a sympathetic noise. If he didn’t know when to keep his mouth - er, beak - shut, he’d say that Dream sounded like an insecure lover. Jealous, as best he could tell, of the change of seasons for stealing away some of Hob’s uncannily boundless affections.

“Well?” Dream stared at him in askance.

“Uh.” He floundered. Spring shit, spring shit. “You could take him on a picnic.” Yeah. Chicks loved picnics.

---

Dream had appeared in his office with a wicker basket that looked stolen from a Beatrix Potter story. A delicate gingham square peeked from the lid. It looked big enough to set up a naughty rabbit for life. He set it on Hob’s desk and then primly folded his hands behind his back.

“Hullo, you.” Hob stood and kissed him on the cheek. “What’s the occasion?” He suspected that there was none. Dream had been taking dating him very seriously. It was delightful.

“Matthew has suggested you require a picnic,” said Dream. Except he said it the way someone else might say The doctor has suggested it’s terminal.

Dream had been taking dating him very seriously. It was also, sometimes, awful.

“Oh, darling. That’s so sweet. But I don’t require anything special, you know. Just you, when you’ve got time to drop in. We could do something else.”

“We shall not. I have packed us lunch.”

“Alright, you stubborn creature. Maybe I do require a picnic.” He offered his arm to Dream. “Come on, I know a place.”

---

Lunch was too piddling a word for the spread Dream had packed. Lunch was a crust of bread and ale, or pottage. Lunch was a Sainsbury’s Egg & Cress Sandwich wolfed down with the last of the morning’s flask of Yorkshire Tea. This was a feast. A temple offering. For Hob. His chest twinged a little with affection. God, he was in love.

“This pleases you,” said Dream, who was looking unfairly elegant for someone sat on a gingham blanket with a bit of clotted cream on the side of his mouth.

Hob kissed it away. “Oh, yes.”

“More than our other...dates.”

“Oh,” said Hob, who was sometimes slow on the uptake, but after several centuries, didn’t miss much at all. “I’ve loved all of them. But this-” he gestured sweepingly around at Primrose Hill, the green ash shading them, the pleasant urban pastoral of joggers and families and dogs and other love-struck couples, all breathing in the same warm afternoon air, “-is exactly where I want to be, today. Outside, among all the life. In the thick of spring. It’s perfect.”

Dream followed Hob’s gaze, and studied the tableau. “There is nothing exceptional about this weather or setting.” He sounded as nonplussed as creature with nearly infinite age and knowledge could sound.

Hob laced his fingers through Dream’s, and tried to see what he saw. No great stories, really. Pedestrian daydreams of food and sun and sex, probably, of pay raises and summer vacations to Mallorca and Ibiza. Humanity being predictable, and life doing the same thing it did every year, to Dream’s uncountable thousands.

“No, I suppose not, but that’s why I love it, too. It’s familiar. Constant. Centuries, and it catches me out each time. It’s always arrived, no matter how bad things were for me. Always been there to celebrate with me when they’re wonderful. Like now.”

Dream looked sidelong at Hob. “Like now,” he echoed. Unsure, and stubbornly unwilling to make a question of it. The ache in Hob’s chest redoubled itself.

“Like now,” he promised. “It reminds me of you, too, you know. We always met in June, Dream. In 1789, watching the first trees budding nearly drove me mad with anticipation. Ninety-nine years and nine months. And you were always heralded by the same signs.” He traced circles on Dream’s pale palm, imagining it sun-kissed. “In 1989, when spring turned all the way into summer and you were still gone, I think my heart broke a little. I’d hoped, until then. That you were just late. With the swifts,” he said, quiet.

“Hob.” Dream had moved across the picnic blanket in his preternaturally fast way, and was now more or less in his lap, gripping Hob’s shoulders.

“Sorry,” he said, grimacing. “I’m being horrifically soppy. Must’ve been the scones. It’s alright. You’re here now. All that matters.”

“Robert Gadling,” said Dream. Hob blinked at that. He’d only ever gotten the full name treatment when Dream was still his Stranger, and only then when he’d disappointed him. “If you dare apologize for such a fine expression of your sentiment, I will be wroth with you.”

“Sorry,” he said again, smiling this time.

“I am honoured you associate me with the season you most adore. I would have it that you never pass another Spring waiting for me. If you wished such a thing.”

It sounded a little like a marriage proposal, which was something his heart really could not cope with the full size of at the minute. Not with so much love already around. Not if Dream didn’t intend to say it like that. He went for levity instead.

“Even though it’s driven me to distraction every time you’ve taken me out this week? Even if all I want to do for weeks is lie around outdoors and hold hands?”

Nearby, a baby started wailing. Dream, to his credit, didn’t even glance away. “Yes,” he said, perfectly solemn, perfectly certain. “Even then.”

“Well, that’s alright then,” said Hob, fighting an urge to start crying a little as well. “I would, as a matter of fact. Wish such a thing.”

They looked at each other, besotted, while the wailing continued.

“Only,” murmured Dream, “must it be in Anthropocene?”

“What?”

“Lie down, lover.” Hob did, a delighted suspicion creeping over him as Dream reached into his jacket pocket. Dream stretched over him, and spoke it low into his ear: “And I will take you to a Spring no man has seen.”

---

Matthew was eating scone crumbs and congratulating himself on his good sense to suggest a picnic. Birds loved picnics too. He hadn’t realized how much until this moment. Jesus. Picnics were a great idea. He was going to tell Dream that human men required them weekly during courtship.

“Thanks for bringing home leftovers, boss,” he said, spraying crumbs all over Dream’s shoulder.

Dream was too preoccupied to mind, or even notice. He waved an imperious hand. “It’s nothing. We absconded from the Waking shortly after we arrived. I have finally given Hob a worthy date. I showed him the virtues of picnicking in a Dreaming Spring.” Oh my god. Dream actually had been jealous of the weather. Because he hadn’t made it for Hob.

“What, no ants?” he offered.

“Hardly so prosaic,” said Dream. He glowed with satisfaction. “The very first.”

[rd0265667]

Danielle as your girlfriend

❃As expected, she is sunshine incarnate

❃Is your biggest hype girl(YOU'RE MYYYYYYY CHEMICAL HYPE BOY)

❃You could literally just finish tying your shoes and she'd cheer for you as if you just saved the world

❃If you aren't Australian, she 100% tries to teach you aussie slang and get you to have an accent like her

❃Her love language is most likely acts of service, and she loves taking care of you

❃Whenever you've had a long day, she loves to make things as comfortable for you, giving you back massages

❃She is OBSESSED with brushing your hair. In the words of Charles Boyle, brushing your lover's hair is one of the most romantic gestures

❃When she's brushing your hair, she lets you vent about your day if you had any bad experiences, and she'll always make sure you can get anything you want off your chest

❃When you're feeling tired, she insists on you laying in her lap so she can watch you sleep

❃100% a sucker for romantic movies, date nights are usually the two of you snuggling together watching romance flicks

❃Always brags about you till the other members can't help but roll their eyes(but they're still happy that Dani is happy)

❃It's impossible for someone to be happy 24/7, even Danielle, so whenever she feels down, your wallet gets emptied

❃It's like a six sense, or the birds stop singing in the street, but you can always tell whenever Danielle is feeling under the weather or down

❃Within 20 minutes, you'll show up at her dorm holding loads and loads of her favourite food.

❃She won't be in the mood to talk, but you just pull her close, letting her snuggle into you as you play some of her comfort movies, holding her till the sun shines again

❃Her wallpaper is you sleeping in her lap, she insists it's a cute picture even though your hair is disheveled and your face looks weird