#and i hate how my extreme attraction and love for this fucking person is making me drag my self image into the grinder

[nimomo-mo]

Vent

[retroellie]

Polluted

Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.

A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)

Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer

Word count: 1.9K

Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.

You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.

Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.

"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."

His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.

You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.

"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"

You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.

One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"

His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.

"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."

You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.

"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"

You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.

You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.

"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."

Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.

"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."

You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.

"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"

Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.

"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.

Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.

"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 

You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

[ashlynlovestlou]

bodyguard! abby anderson x princess! reader (500 followers special)

꩜ synopsis: based on the book "twisted games" by ana huang. you are next in line for the throne, and abby is your bodyguard. only one problem: you can't be with her. you have to marry someone of royal blood, and abby is not. but that won't stop you from being with her. she knows she can't have you, but she's taking you anyways.

꩜ cw: forbidden love trope , reader and abby sneak around , eventual smut (fingering, strap use, multiple orgasms, pet names, spanking, dirty talk, etc) , reader has a brother , afab! reader , fem! reader , bodyguard! abby , semi-public ,

masterlist

.. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ ..

it all started when your brother abdicated. he quite possibly ruined your life the day he fell in love with a flight attendant and decided he didn't want to be king anymore. but you couldn't blame him. he chose love over the throne.

in reality, you could've done the same. not a single part of your body wanted to be queen. too much responsibility and stress, and not enough time to prepare. but everything you do reflects your country, and it would look bad to back out when your brother had done the same.

your grandfather was king, but as he grew older he had to teach your brother, next in line for the throne, how to rule an entire country. he had been preparing to do so for years, but when he met mckenna, he decided he didn't want to. so now, you were next to be queen. and you only had four months to prepare.

you had a dance to attend tonight, because the board decide it would be best for you to marry before coronation. so there you were, sitting on an uncomfortable throne in a room full of men that wish to be your suitor.

"are you paying attention?" a voice to your right says.

another thing. abby fucking anderson. your buff, exponentially attractive bodyguard. you two had a fling before there was this whole drama with your brother, but it soon fizzled out at the reality of the situation. you wanted her, and she wanted you. but the only problem: you can't be with her. she's not of noble blood, so by law, you can't be together.

"i dont need to be. i don't want to marry anyone here." which is almost a lie. you don't want to marry any man here.

abby sighs through her nostrils, her broad shoulders twitching, "c'mon, princess. there's got to be at least one person here that you think is good enough to be your husband."

there wasn't. even abby knew that.

"no thank you." you say with a huff, standing up and straightening out your dress just as another suitor had approached you.

you walk away without another word, abby short on your tail, "where are you going?"

"bathroom." you answer shortly, "i'm fed up with everything and this dress is making it extremely hard not to pee myself."

you excuse yourself for the second time, walking through the marble corridors of the castle while the faint sound of chatter is left in the ballroom. the only sound heard now is the clacking of your heels on the slick floors, the shoes rubbing your feet in the most uncomfortable places.

once in the bathroom you reach behind your back, fumbling with the strings of your corset.

"need some help?" abby questions. you hadn't realized that she followed you.

"i know you're my bodyguard, ms. anderson, but you don't need to follow me in the bathroom."

she chuckles lowly, "we've fucked three times and you still refuse to call me abby, huh?"

a familiar heat rushes to your cheeks.

and somewhere else.

she doesn't wait for an answer before positioning herself behind you, untying the strings for you and giving you immediate relief on your ribs.

"you know how much i hate that i have to watch you dance with other men? how much i hate that their hands are all over you...?"

you swallow, hard, "how much?"

"so much," she begins, "that i want to bend you over that sink and spank your ass raw."

your breath catches in your throat, and you stare at her in the mirror, mouth agape. your heart is hammering against your chest, like it's trying to head-butt itself out.

"take off your dress and spread your legs." she whispers in your ear, to which you comply. you'd be an idiot not to.

once you were stripped of your clothing, the cold air hits your skin and makes you shiver. but the cold doesn't last long before abby is taking you into a sloppy kiss.

"here's what's gonna happen." she says, hands snaking around your body and settling on the plush of your ass, "i don't like seeing you dance with men. so you're going to sit here and let me fuck you like a good girl, alright?"

her fingers slide through your slit. your breath catches for a second time and your body arches towards hers.

you shudder at every word, rutting yourself against her in an attempt to feel friction. she's quick to grab your hips and stop them, pulling a whine from deep within your chest.

"how many men did you dance with?" she demands, her hot breathe hovering on your lips.

"o-only six."

"seven." she corrects you, pinching and pulling on your clit, making you squirm.

"p-please, abby..."

"please what? use your words, princess." she says softly, contradicting her harsh actions.

"please... fuck me already." you plead, bottom lip quivering. your thigh muscles are shaking, and you glance at the pile of discarded clothes on the floor opposite of the counter you're pressed against. your clothes, to be exact. abby is still dressed, but you can see her bulge through her pants. the pants that squeeze her thighs and highlight every muscle. she truly is glorious.

"you wore your strap to the ball?"

she nods her head, taking her hand off your mound and using it to unzip her trousers. you whine at the lack of warmth, the cold air of the bathroom returning to your skin and giving you goosebumps.

"dont worry, sweet girl. once i'm done with you, you'll be sweating." you smirk at this, lifting yourself onto the cold tile counter. you hiss as the temperature hits your bare ass, but abby shuts you up with another kiss, "now stay still. i need to stretch you out before giving you what you really need." she says.

"but i've taken your strap before. it's not that hard."

she laughs at this, "i know you have. but this one's not the same."

your eyebrows raise, but before you can ask what she means her pants and boxers pool around her ankles. this certainly wasn't what you were expecting.

it's much longer and much girthier than than the one she's used on you before. it's even a different color. this one a hot pink, sparkly shade that's enough to force a laugh out of you.

abby giggles in unison, "you like it?" you nod, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her towards you. she's quick to shut that down, "nuh-uh. i told you i've gotta stretch you out first. spread those pretty legs f'me."

you comply easily, spreading them further. she whistles when she sees your twitching, glistening cunt, just weeping and begging for abby to take care of it.

"shit, honey... you think this country knows how wet their queen is right now?"

"but, im not the queen yet— oh!" youre interrupted when abby's middle and ring fingers slide easily into your cunt, your warm walls welcoming her familiar skin. you look down and watch your pussy swallow her up greedily, clenching around her like you're scared she's going to pull away.

"there she is. there's my girl." abby coos, kissing your knee before increasing the speed in which her fingers pump in and out of you.

all that's heard is the sloshing of her fingers in your pussy. the heel of her palm slams against your clit, deliciously stimulating it as your legs begin to shake. abby knows what she's doing, and she loves it.

"gonna look so damn pretty with a crown on your head." she huffs as that familiar coil bubbles up in the depths of your stomach, "s' pretty baby."

a string of moans cascade from your mouth as she pulls her fingers out, letting you have your orgasm on your own. usually she's fuck you through it, but she's not done with you yet.

she grabs the base of the strap, teasing your puffy and swollen folds with it but not putting it in. you whine in protest, but she tuts you in response.

when she finally does push in, however, a strained gasp falls out of your mouth from the stretch of the strap, your hands finding abby's shoulders and squeezing them, "abby— abs— i can't-"

"shh... yes you can. you can take it." she says, letting you adjust before slowly pumping in and out of you, "you can handle being queen but you can't handle this cock?"

"not-" grunt, "queen," grunt, "yet."

she pounds harder and harder, hips slamming against you. your legs are already weak, and you can tell you're going to be bruised tomorrow.

"abby," you say in between breaths, attempting to maintain your composure, "they're going to be wondering where i am."

her hips stutter, but they don't stop. the base of the strap was hitting her clit just right. she was just as close as you are, "shh... almost done. cum with me, baby. c'mon, you can do it."

with only a few more pounds you're both spiraling. you both hope to god nobody is outside the bathroom door, otherwise they would be sure to hear your heavy breathing and tight moans.

once you come down from your high, abby is already tucking her strap back into her tight slacks, the material hugging her thighs beautifully. she helps you dress yourself again in your pretty gown (after she had cleaned you up, of course).

"sorry we have to sneak around, princess. i promise one day we won't have to." she says, pecking a sweet kiss to your temple. without another word, she walks out before you, making sure it doesn't look too suspicious that you were in there together.

you're left with your reality again. you have to go back out there and dance with men that you don't love. a so simple, yet so not, marriage of convenience, when the person that your heart really belongs too has to watch from the sidelines.

but abby was right.

she couldn't have you, but she was taking you anyways.

[effy-writes]

HIIII!! CAN I REQ A POLY! ASMODEUS X FIZZAROLLI X GN!HELLHOUND!READER?? (IF NOT HELLHOUND THEN JUST GN!READER IS FINE!!!) and reader works at ozzie’s with fizz and asmodeus and a group a fans start making fun of reader? :3

ofc!! hope you enjoy <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ozzie x Fizz x GN! Hellhound! Reader: Performance

You first met Fizz and Ozzie at the restaurant “Ozzie’s”. You started out as a waiter/waitress and made some hella good money. So, obviously you stayed.

The two noticed you straight away and found you extremely attractive, so they began asking you on dates. You were shocked at first that THE sin of Lust and THE jester found you attractive and even wanted to go on dates. You were nervous at first, gathering your thoughts on if they’re doing this because they felt bad for you or if they’re doing this because they’re board. Either way, you dressed nicer and head your way to a different restaurant to meet them.

The moment they saw you Ozzie brought you in a tight hug while Fizz moved the chair for you to sit down. “Thanks for inviting me out on this date, I really appreciate it.” You gave them a whole heartily smile.

“Of course, babe! Fizzy and I just couldn’t stop staring at you..not in a bad way!” Ozzie laughed, “We just thought you were attractive and really wanted to get to know you more.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“So, how are you liking Ozzie’s?” Fizz questioned.

“I love working there! The money is great, the workers are great, I love seeing you guys perform, and…I feel welcomed there.”

Fizz replied, “Have you ever thought of performing? You look like you’ll be great using the pole.”

“Eh..I don’t know. I never performed before. And I definitely would mess up doing the poles. I appreciate it though!”

“Oh come on,” Ozzie replied, “Fizz could teach you! You’ll make more money by performing.”

“Really? I kinda like my waiter, waitress thing job.”

“Let’s try the pole thing out. I would love to teach you.” Fizz smiled.

“And if you don’t like it then you can go back to wait tables.”

You thought about it for a moment, “Sure, why not? Plus it’ll be nice to work with Fizz.”

That first date turned into two, then three, and then on the fourth one they asked you to join their relationship. You obviously said yes and felt like the happiest hellhound there is.

During the times of the dates, Fizz was helping you practice a routine on the poles. You never performed or do anything with people staring at you, so this was very much out of your comfort zone, but you loved spending so much time with Fizz as Ozzie cheered you on. You kept missing up at first, like falling down, or just messing up the routine, but Fizz was always there for you.

Tonight was the night of your first performance and holy shit you were nervous as fuck. You waited in the wings with your boyfriend’s and couldn’t stop shaking.

“Guys..I don’t think I should do this.” Your hands shook. Ozzie held your shaky hands and spoke, “I believe in you, babe. WE believe in you.”

“And if you mess up just keep on going! The audience doesn’t know this routine.” Fizz rubbed his face against yours so he could feel you.

You let out a shaky breath, “I don’t know…”

“Just take deep breaths. I used to do that before performing for Mammon.”

“I fucking HATE that guy.” Ozzie interrupted, “Sorry Y/n, everytime I hear his name I just want to-”

“Ozzie!” Fizz whispered with harsh before turning back to you. “You got this. We believe in you..confidence is key.”

“Thanks guys, and thank you for being my personal cheerleader.” The moment you said that your dance music started to play.

Ozzie and Fizz smiled and gave you a thumbs up as you swayed your body to the rhythm of the music. Your heard the audience gasp as you made your way to the pole and started the routine.

You felt pretty confident during this dance. The moves was perfect as you climbed up the pole, swung yourself as you showed the “good” parts of your body.

You heard some hecklers that was sitting near the front but tried not to focus on them.

Ozzie overheard them and wanted to kick them out right then and there but he didn’t want to embarrass you during your first ever performance, so he waited until the dance was over.

You climbed up the pole once more and used your hands and legs to stay upside down, but since you’re a hellhound and have soft fur, you quickly dropped to the floor and felt yourself freeze up.

Those same hecklers laughed as loud as they could to make sure you heard. “This is why hellhounds shouldn’t perform.” The girl said to her group of friends.

“I don’t even find them attractive!” Another girl said inbetween her nasally, loud laughs.

You quickly stood up and ran off the stage into the wings as Fizz called your name out. He searched for Ozzie and saw him over at the group of hecklers. Fizz ran back to you and saw you with your hands on your knees panting.

“Are you okay?” Fizz rubbed your back.

“I’m not fucking okay! I shouldn’t have done this.”

“You were amazing! Don’t listen to them.” Fizz held your hands so you would be able to stand up straight.

“They thought I was disgusting, Fizz.” You deadpanned.

“Well, now they’re beaten to a pulp.” He chuckled.

“Huh?”

“Ozzie is handling them. I’m not sure if he did actually hit them, but most definitely yelled and threw them out, literally. Look, point is, hecklers is always going to come in here, and me and Ozzie will always stand up for you. How about you try this performance again. Only whenever you’re ready.” His grip on your hands tightened.

Before you could reply Ozzie ran up, “Are you okay, babe?”

“Im fine, Oz. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about them anymore.” He pulled you into a hug with Fizz joining by hugging behind you.

“Fizz, you’re poking me.” You laughed.

“Sorry, love and affection turns me on.”

“I’m so fucking glad I met you guys.”

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist. 

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling.  “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?” 

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell. 

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these. 

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’? 

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing. 

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now. 

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

[holywizardheart]

Astrology observations :)

Don't copyright my work

The pictures aren't mine

Please enjoy the reading

~Aries venus females can get along with men easily

~Capricorn moons are very responsible when it comes to their work and job.

~Mercury/Chiron negative aspects can dislike their voice and how they talk generally

I also can add 2nd house chiron there

~People who have Venus/Neptune hard aspects can attract liars and gaslighters in love life

~People with libra placements are flirty without effort, especially if it's in Mercury

~I don't know but people who have Mercury/Pluto esp. Negative aspects are damn too secretive even in little things

Also, they are the best manipulators and they can use something against you so be extremely careful with them because I experienced this shit

~People with Sun conjunct Mercury always want to be the center of attention in the company. Sometimes it really annoys me like please give me a chance to speak my mind. Also, I noticed that they can be very sure about their opinion and make you want to believe them.

~People with Uranus aspecting personal planets are not judgy and critical in my experience. I kinda feel appreciated around them.

~I met so many girls with Venus Saturn negative aspects and sometimes they can hate their appearance and think that they're ugly in some way.

~Leo venuses are very very needy as an Aquarius venus it's kinda tough for me to get along with them

~Women with Venus/Pluto aspects give a vibe of a jealous girl song by Lana del Rey

Also, they could be sexualized by men a lot

~Guys with Aries placements sometimes like to bully people for no fucking reason

~People with Virgo placements could be criticized when they were just a child

~People with Capricorn placements are always busy and have a lot of responsibilities in their life. I'm always surprised by their patience and consistency like damn if I were you I couldn't handle it.

~I don't know but in my opinion, Capricorn moon people often experience difficult childhood. When I ask them about the story it is usually very sad and depressing.

~Also about women with Venus/Pluto aspects especially negative ones can often experience jealousy of other women and vice versa

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2023

May 28th Prompt: Free Space

Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6

@steddie-week

(Warning for queer slurs, but spoken in love, if that makes sense?)

“I hate you,” Robin hisses, eyes glassy. She covers her mouth, shakes her head. “Steve. Holy shit.”

He’s looking at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes are also glassy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s gonna love it. Fuck. Fuck you, dingus, I didn’t want to cry today.”

He laughs, then, and gathers her into his arms. “Thanks for letting me practice on you, Robbie.”

“I’m never doing that again. Holy shit.”

Steve smirks. “It’s alright. I promise to cry whenever you practice on me for Vickie.”

She pinches his side. He elbows hers. “Let me know when you decide to do it, yeah? I’ll steal Jon’s camera.”

Steve snorts. “Just borrow it like a normal person, Robs.”

“Literally when have I ever been normal.”

“…Fair point.” He shifts. “You think he’s gonna like it? For real?”

“If he doesn’t like it I’m taking your nail bat and practicing with his head.”

“Robin, oh my god.” He laughs, probably more than the joke warrants—especially considering he’s not entirely sure she’s joking—but he’s so relieved. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, dingus. Just tell me when.”

“Um. Tomorrow night, actually. I’m taking him back to Hawkins, to the quarry.”

She makes a face. “Why there?”

“It was our first date. We had a picnic.”

“Oh my god,” Robin says, then her eyes widen. “Wait. Steve. Steve. You have a ring.”

Steve laughs, digs his hand into his pocket. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she says, grabbing at his hand and peeling his fingers open, grabbing the ring as soon as she can, turning it and inspecting it. She frowns a little, looking intently at the inside. “What-”

Steve smiles. “I love you in Elvish.”

“You’re both suck dorks.” She looks up at him, smiles. “He’s gonna absolutely love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know he’s head over heels for you.”

Steve blushes. “I still don’t know how.”

“Because you deserve it, dingus, you’re a good guy. A really good guy. And, according to everyone who likes guys, you’re extremely attractive.”

Steve laughs. “Thanks, Robin.”

“You’re welcome.”

A key in the lock startles them, and Robin slips the ring back into Steve’s pocket a second before the door opens. “Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve, before turning to smirk at Robin. “Hey, freeloader.”

She squawks and launches herself at him, clinging on like a koala. “I’ll show you freeloader.”

“Oh my god get off of me you weigh a ton, Stevie, baby, help me!”

Steve just laughs. “You brought this upon yourself, babe.”

“Ah!” Eddie winces. “Jesus, Robs, elbows! In my spleen! How the fuck did you even do that, you fucking contortionist?”

“Dick.”

“Dyke.”

“Faggot.”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve mutters, eyeing the two of them. “It’s impossible for there to be peace when you two are together, isn’t it?”

They both look at him and answer simultaneously. “Yes.”

They both laugh as Robin drops off of Eddie, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she ruffles his hair. He grins and kisses her forehead before moving to embrace Steve, wrapping him in a hug and kissing his temple. He sighs, long and content. “It’s good to be home.”

Steve chuckles. “Was today that bad?”

“No, just long. Dinner?”

“In the oven.”

Just then the timer dings, and Robin races past them, yelling over her shoulder, “I’ll get it!”

They both chuckle, then Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

“We’re going to Hawkins tomorrow.”

Eddie’s brows scrunch up. “What?”

“Hawkins. Tomorrow. I’m the one with hearing loss, babe.”

“Actually, with your hearing aids, I’m pretty sure you can hear better than I can.”

“Fuck off.”

“Mmm, no. Something about how you love me.”

Steve softens. “Something like that,” he agrees, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips, swaying them in place, like they’re dancing. “I already called off for you. And for me. It’s overnight, but just for a night. We’re gonna drive back the next day.”

Eddie smiles. “Am I ever gonna understand what goes on in your head?”

Steve laughs. “You already do. Sometimes you know me better than I know myself.”

Eddie nudged Steve’s nose with his own. “Something about how I love you.”

“Something like that,” Steve agrees, then lets Eddie seal their lips together.

That is, until a knitted potholder flies into their faces. “Dinner time,” Robin says brightly when they break apart, like she isn’t the reason for the airborne potholder.

“And you’re sure you can’t tell me why we’re going to Hawkins?” Eddie wheedles for what feels like the millionth time.

“Nope,” Steve says happily, popping the p. “You’ll just have to wait. Enjoy the suspense. I am.”

“You’re only enjoying it because you know where we’re going,” Eddie argues.

“Exactly,” Steve says, then takes Eddie’s hand. “You’re gonna love it, Eds. Please stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” Eddie says, then slumps when Steve just turns an eyebrow on him. “Okay, maybe I’m worrying a little. But only a very little!”

Steve chuckles. “Sure, babe.” A few minutes later, he reaches up to turn the radio down. “How’d you feel about no music for a while?”

“Okay,” Eddie says immediately, looking at Steve. “Are you okay? Headache?”

Steve smiles, brings Eddie’s hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “No headache, I’m okay. I was actually wondering if you’d read to me for a bit.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “You brought a book?”

Steve hums. “In the backseat, blue bag.”

Eddie reaches back and rifles around for a minute, then looks at Steve with a delighted expression. “I’m kissing you as soon as you stop driving.”

Steve chuckles. “Duly noted. Start wherever you want.”

Eddie blinks. “I’m in the middle of this one.”

“I know.”

“You won’t have any idea what’s going on.”

“I like listening to you.”

“You’re a sap,” Eddie says, even more delighted. “Holy fuck, I love you. Okay, um, I’m on chapter ten. The choices of Master Samwise. Frodo was lying face upward on the ground and the monster was bending over him, so intent upon her victim that she took no heed of Sam and his cries, until he was close at hand. As he rushed up he saw that Frodo was already bound in cords, wound about him from ankle to shoulder, and the monster with her great forelegs was beginning half to lift, half to drag his body away.”

He continues reading, getting more and more into it, affecting accents for the different voices, slowing down for some parts and speeding up for others, and Steve thinks his heart might burst for how much he loves this man.

They arrive in Hawkins before too long, and the first thing they do—just like every time they have to go into Hawkins for whatever reason—is visit Wayne.

Eddie blinks when he opens the door. “What the fuck?”

Steve and Wayne share a look borne of knowing Eddie. “You alright, Wayne?”

Wayne waves him off, makes a face at his cane. “Fine. Slight accident at work, fell wrong, banged my hip. I still get around fine and I didn’t want you two worryin’ none.”

“That’s our job, old man,” Eddie says, pulling Wayne into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you boys, too.” He hugs Steve next. “C’mon in, make yourselves at home, y’know the drill. Steve, you wanna grab us some beers?”

“Love to,” Steve replies with a chuckle, following Wayne inside.

They talk and catch up for a few minutes before Eddie excuses himself to use the restroom. “Your stuff’s in the pantry,” Wayne murmurs to Steve. “Want to run it out to the car before he gets back?”

“Oh,” Steve says, like he just realized. “I asked after you’d fallen, didn’t I?”

Wayne hums noncommittally. “Not like I minded. Was just about goin’ stir crazy with the time off work.”

Steve chuckles, leans in to hug Wayne, and goes to put the bag in the car.

A few minutes later they’re hugging goodbye. “Robin’s here to take pictures,” Steve murmurs in Wayne’s ear. “I’ll get her to drive you up to Indy for the dinner tomorrow.”

“‘Preciate it,” Wayne says, clapping Steve on the back before turning to Eddie. “Get in here, boy.”

Eddie laughs and hugs his uncle. “Love ya, Wayne.”

“You too, kid. Take good care of ‘im, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “We’ll see you later.”

“Mhm. You kids have fun.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve as soon as they’re back in the car. “That wasn’t what we came down here for.”

“Nope,” Steve agrees. “You’ll see soon enough, Eds.”

Eddie sighs and collapses back into his seat. Steve just grins, wholly in love.

Soon, though, he sits up again, interest piqued. “Are we going to the quarry?”

“Got it in one.”

“Steve,” Eddie says slowly, suspiciously. “What are we doing here?”

Steve doesn’t answer for a few minutes, just plays with Eddie’s fingers with one hand, the other on the wheel, his eyes never leaving the road. “Remember the first time we went to the quarry?”

“Must’ve been eight years ago, now, huh?”

“Just about,” Steve agrees. “We were just kids, terrified and halfway in love and no clue about how our lives would turn out. But we made it. Against all odds, we made it.” He glances at Eddie, smiles. “Thought it would be kinda poetic, coming back here.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees softly, rapt attention on Steve.

“So,” Steve continues, shrugging. “There’s some stuff in the back. Thought it might be nice to have a picnic again. Just to take some time off and remember how it was back then, think about where we were versus where we are.”

“Ugh,” Eddie says, glassy-eyed. “What have you done to me, I used to be cool.”

Steve laughs. “You’ve always been a nerd, babe. Pretty sure I’m the only one who thinks you’re cool.”

“Well, joke’s gonna be on you when we have a kid and they think I’m the coolest dad ever.”

Steve blinks, smiling even as Eddie freezes beside him. “I bet they will, Eds.”

That small sentence is enough to release the tension coiling inside Eddie, flowing out and leaving him looking at Steve, besotted.

Steve parks and they make their way to the edge, a mirror of all those years ago. Steve unfolds a blanket and lays it out, thrusting the bag at Eddie. “Here, start getting the food out, please.”

Eddie’s eyebrows steadily climb higher as he unpacks. Sandwiches, fruits, brownies, and drinks. Both of their favorites, and Steve makes a mental note to do something for Wayne soon, because nobody deserves the actual angel that is Wayne Munson.

They eat and talk and joke around, and kiss—a lot—and just as they’re finishing, the first raindrop splatters down.

Steve looks up, dismayed, to see dark clouds all around them.

Eddie whoops and jumps up, packing everything up and stuffing it back in the car, before running back to Steve and swinging him around in a hug, laughing. “What,” Steve says, but he’s laughing too, because he can’t not be happy when Eddie’s happy.

Eddie stops, sets him down, and grabs both his hands, looking Steve in the eyes. “Do you remember a few days ago when we were watching Singing in the Rain?”

The last time they’d seen the movie was at least four months ago. “Sure.”

“And you were sighing, all forlorn, and I asked what was wrong? And you said you thought you would’ve liked to dance around with someone in the rain?”

Steve can’t help the laugh. “I’m in love with your brain. That was at least five years ago, Eds.”

Eddie frowns. “No, that can’t be right, that was like, a week ago.”

Steve laughs harder. He can’t tell if the water on his cheeks is rain or tears. He doesn’t really care. “It was at least five years ago,” he assures his boyfriend.

“Huh,” Eddie says, shrugging. “Okay, well, I waited and waited and waited and it never worked out. It either always rained while we were asleep or while we were at work, or if we weren’t either of those things, it was a thunderstorm, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna take you out in that. So.” He grins, wide and unashamed, and bows, offering Steve a hand. “May I have this dance?”

Steve’s going to die and it’s going to be Eddie’s fault. His heart is just going to give out one day because it can’t take how much he loves Eddie. “Of course,” Steve answers, taking Eddie’s hand, and Eddie lights up, dragging Steve into a crushing hug and pressing their lips together in a bruising kiss. “I love you,” he murmurs against Eddie’s lips. His breath hitches. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much,” Eddie responds softly, wiping away Steve’s tears. “Happy?”

“Beyond,” Steve answers, floundering for a way to tell Eddie exactly how he’s feeling. But then Eddie smiles at him, and his smile is wobbly, and Steve suddenly knows Eddie knows exactly how he’s feeling.

They sway together for minutes or hours or days, Steve doesn’t know or care, letting the rain on the leaves and the ground be the rhythm they move to, an unhurried dance that somehow means everything.

The rain eventually lets up, and Steve pulls away after a few minutes, so they’re holding hands. “I have a question.”

“Okay.”

“We’ve known each other for a little over eight years now. We saved the world and managed to fall in love in the middle of it. The Shire was burning, we defeated Sauron, and I carried you out of Mordor. Against all odds we made it out alive, and against all odds we made it out of the Shire, and against all odds we made it together. It’s been eight years and every one’s been an adventure. Every day has been an adventure with you. And I may not know what our lives may hold next, but I know whatever the adventure is, I don’t want to do it without you by my side.” He kneels, pulling out the ring, and Eddie gasps, tearing up.

“Stevie-”

“So,” he continues. “Eddie. I know we can’t legally get married. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to, but I don’t care. I don’t need the government to tell me who I can and can’t marry. I love you, baby, and if you’ll have me, I’ll love you forever. Will you fuck the government and marry me?”

Eddie’s shaking. “That,” he manages after a minute, “was metal as fuck, baby.” He sniffs, shakes his head, and laughs. “Of course. Of course I’ll marry you. We’ll flip off the whole of the government together.”

“Hell yeah,” Steve says, grinning, and stands. “Before you put the ring on, though, there’s something I want you to see.” He turns it, points out the inscription on the inside, and Eddie tackles him with a yell, and they both go down laughing.

“Baby,” Eddie manages after a minute. “Holy shit. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks rhetorically, and they both watch as he slides the ring onto his fiancé’s finger.

It’s a perfect fit.

[thir10th]

52 pick up - Emily Prentiss x Fem!reader

Summary: So basically this is a Emily x reader one shot based on ep 4x9 because I really wanted to read one but I could not find ANYTHING so I guess I had to write it myself *sighs*

TW: spoilers for 4x09, Fem!reader, (very poorly written) smut, mutual masturbation, fingering (this might be so bad I’m sorry in advance if it is) I think that’s it but let me know if I miss anything

A/n: very new fanfic writer so please be gentle and any feedback is appreciated 🙏 English is not my first language so sorry for the possible mistakes

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

“we need to study his style up close and personal. It’s gonna take someone that he’s already attracted to” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive tone, soon enough, Morgan and Hotch are also looking at Emily, and you are too, only to realize what they’re trying to say

“oh… oh this is really gonna suck” Emily complains when she realizes she’s the one who will have to approach Viper.

You really didn’t like this idea. You weren’t obviously happy to let your girlfriend get in the line just to be approached by that same asshole who had already been extremely inappropriate to her, objectifying her, suggesting he could “make her do whatever he wanted”. Only if he knew if there was anybody in the world capable of making Emily Prentiss do anything was you.

All of that was true, but why was also true, and you wouldn’t admit, was how unreasonably jealous that thought made you.

You knew for sure Emily would never cheat on you, or do anything to deliberately hurt you in any way, and there was also the fact that she was a lesbian, so there is no way she would be attracted to that guy in any way, however it did make you feel jealous, just the idea of your beautiful, sexy girlfriend walking into that bar, as a literal decoy, her, all dressed up as any other night she would do, to go out with you and the rest for a BAU party night, but instead getting there by herself just with the aim to be eye-fucked by that disgusting misogynist of a man.

“ok but you’re not going by yourself, I’m going with you. It could be more effective is we approach him as a couple, isn’t that what our unsub has been doing anyway?”

You wait for your boss’ response, he frowns as he considers the idea

“You’re right, it could be more effective that way. Go get ready” He finally admits, and you go get your go bag

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

You enter the room while Emily is already changing in, opening the door slightly just to take a peek so you can surprise her. She is already unbuttoning her work shirt.

“would you like me to finish that for you?”

You ask her, a she startles

“jeez y/n! you scared me, I didn’t know you were there!”

“Sorry, honey” you say as you enter the room and close it behind you

“are you excited to go clubbing or are you mad that I offered to go with you? I just really hated the idea of you approaching that asshole by yourself” you walk up to her, surrounding her waist with your arms, resting your hands on her sides, softly caressing the skin there

“yes…well about that” she surrounds your neck with her arms, twirling little strands of your hair with her fingers there

“you actually got mad?”

“no, no it’s not that… Hotch just came in and we talked about Jordan, and I kind of suggested she came with me”

“so basically I’m not going?”

“it’s just…she’s really trying hard to be a part of the team, and I can’t help it”

“you see yourself in her? Ems…” you knew how good she meant but you couldn’t help to think that she was being too nice to her, plus you weren’t so sure you liked Jordan that much. Maybe it was because you missed JJ, or maybe you just didn’t really like the way she looked at her sometimes.

“I just don’t want her to feel left alone now”

“I know, baby and I love you for that, but you were not like her, you did your best ever since the first day, you never needed to prove yourself by lying or anything like that

“Yes, but I did feel very left out at times, and I will never forget how comforted it made me feel that you included me and asked me for help at times”

“yes, but that was because I was trying to get in your pants” she laughs and closes her eyes slightly as in “I can’t believe you’re saying that” way.

It’s sometimes surprising how shy Emily can get specially considering her confidence in the bedroom, and also how she would slip some suggestive comments about your relationship in front of the team from time to time mostly to surprise them, but you loved both sides of her, and you though her shyness was adorable, so you laugh with her.

“I know it’s important for you, and it’s just so cute how you want to help her, so I’ll forget about it and just stick with Morgan and Reid, but if he touches you, remember I’m armed.”

She smiles, softly, looking at your lips, and she kisses you softly, and you gently kiss her back.

“I promise I’ll compensate you”

“I will hold you on for that one”

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

It can feel strange to be dressed in your casual work clothes in the middle of a bar but there you are, handing in flyers with Morgan and Reid, you can’t help but to look among all the faces trying to find Emily, completely aware of how bad this could affect her cover, but you can’t help it.

She should be here already, what’s taking her so long?

Someone is suddenly standing behind you, you turn hopeful to see Emily but disappointed to see it’s just Morgan

“is pretty girl looking for her girlfriend?” he teases you

“shouldn't they be here already?” You ask him, ignoring the teasing

“relax beautiful, or you’re gonna blow up their cover, and even Pretty boy here has handed in more flyers than you, don’t get so distracted” he advices you, but you don’t really listen, you just keep walking around until you catch a glimpse of someone standing on a table, you can instantly recognize Emily, wearing a beautiful black dress that hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her breasts and making her look more beautiful if that was even possible already.

Almost immediately you can see Viper approaching her, he looks so confident in his “alpha male” appearance but you’re certain it will take Emily mere seconds to destroy him.

Then Jordan arrives, she has also dressed up for the occasion but she doesn’t look nearly as hot as your girlfriend. They both engage in a conversation with Viper, visibly suggestive. At the beginning you can tell his confident, he has done this a million times, but as time passes, and the conversation goes on, every time one of her talks he also gets more and more insecure.

You observe how Emily teases him, at one point she gets so close to his mouth you actually believe he’s going to kiss her but she just laughs it off and his body language changes again.

Looking at your beautiful girlfriend interacting in this way from afar was making you feel more and more aroused it even embarrassed you that it was turning you on, but you couldn’t help it. I mean, how could you when she just looked like that? You couldn’t even blame yourself every time you looked at her mouth and how her lipstick suited her perfectly.

Everything happens quicker than you thought, first thing you notice is how their face expressions change, and suddenly they’re walking away, leaving Viper there, and picking up the phone probably to call Hotch. You look for Morgan and Reid and tell them it’s time to leave.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

Back at the precinct you catch Emily when she’s entering the changing room again, you check that Jordan isn’t inside too, and get in with her.

“you look… wow” it’s the first thing you say to her. She’s looking straight at you, with a smile on her face, hinting she probably has something in mind for you

“you liked it?”

“Em, you look so beautiful”

“I could see you there in the back you know?” she grabs you by the waist, gently pushing your back against the lockers, you surround her with your arms for support, she keeps talking seductively, with her face so close you yours that your lips could crush if you just moved a bit closer. Instead you both just remain there, as Emily talks, just millimeters away from kissing

“really?” you ask, it’s a stupid question but you’re too surprised to say something coherent right now.

“really, yeah, you were practically drooling, was I doing that to you baby? “

“yes, god Emily yes”

She closes the space between us, her lips crashing against yours, practically devouring you, softly, full of lust.

Emily’s kisses were like that, no matter how much they lasted she always left you wanting more.

Her hands pull your waist to hers, grabbing your flesh desperately, anywhere she could find it. You run your finger through her soft black curls. Her tongue finds yours in a matter of seconds and suddenly the kiss turns into something bigger, her hands travel down to find your ass giving it a gentle squeeze because you know how much I love that she grabs your ass and how much it turns you on

You hear a knock on the door interrupting the scene, and you fly away from each other in less than a second

“Come in!” Emily just says a bit too loud. Her cheeks are red, and when Jordan enters she notices

“sorry, am I interrupting something?” she says, but it’s not a real apology

“no, sorry I was already leaving” you reply maybe a little too fast, and with one last look to Emily, you leave.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

After a case is closed you always feel like an eternity has passed. You are way so tired you can barely stand anymore, but at least you’re glad you got there in time to save the last woman the unsub had taken before something horrible happened to her.

You enter your hotel room, the one you shared with Emily. You started sharing rooms during cases after you made your relationship public, Hotch thought it was for the better since you wouldn’t be sneaking out of your rooms every night, and technically you were saving money.

“my feet are killing me, maybe those heels weren’t such a great idea as I thought” she sits on the bed, and you help her take her shoes off

“if I remember correctly, you had promised something to me” she grabs you by the waist, getting you closer to her, looking up from where she’s sitting

She simply smiles, looking up at you

“you know me. Im a woman of my word” she starts unzipping your pants, pulling them off your legs, she leaves a little kiss right on top of your underwear, she grabs them and pulls them down just like she did with your pants.

You start unbuttoning your shirt, and she does the same thing, but before she can finish you interrupt her

“you’ve undressed many times today already, let me be the one who takes you clothes off now” you move to sit next to her and you take her shirt off, then to unzipping her pants. It doesn’t take muck more for Emily to take the lead. She pushes you down so your back is laying flat on the bed, just to finish unbuttoning your shirt and opening it to discover you’re not wearing a bra underneath

“look at what we have here!” she teases you

“you look beautiful like this baby, did you enjoy the little act on the bar today? Because I think it turned you on, you couldn’t take your eyes off of me could you?” she says positioning herself on top of you, straddling you, lowering her face to kiss your cheek, then your neck, leaving soft and wet kisses all over your jaw.

“Yes, Em god yes” you say completely out of breath

“was my baby jealous?” she asks, alternating kisses between words

“I was” you admit, completely at her mercy, and very turned on by how her fingers trace all around your stomach, your chest, how she whispers in your ear and kisses everywhere she can reach.

“you’re mine, baby” she whispers in your ear, and moves to bite of on your earlobe

“I’m yours” you answer, and you can feel her smile forming on her lips against the tender skin right behind your jaw where she was kissing you

She started her trip down your body, leaving wet kisses all along your skin, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear. She put her hair between her ears and instead of going on to where you wanted her, she began kissing her way up your thighs, nipping the sensitive skin there which you were sure will leave small purple marks tomorrow that you were too ashamed to admit you loved carrying with your for the whom day, watching them on your own reflection on the mirror, tracing with your fingers the same path her lips had made hours ago.

She reached closer to your centre, lingering right where your thighs ended and met the elastic on your underwear. This had you bucking up your waist to her face, which caused a giggle from her

“someone’s eager”

“Em you’ve teased me enough already, just please” you say out of breath, begging her to get where you wanted her the most

“I can’t say no to you” she kisses you right in the middle of your underwear, the sudden contact making you moan in pleasure

“Fuck. Em” your hands practically flew to wrap your fingers between her hair.

She uses her own mouth to lower your underwear with her teeth, and taking them all the way off using her right hand, the other one never leaving its place. Other times Emily would simply move your underwear enough to get exactly what she wanted, but tonight she needed you naked, nothing more than you on her head.

Before you could complain on her slow pace, her lips crashed against yours, she moaned in your mouth and you did the same, simultaneously she cupped you, a slight cry in pleasure leaving your lips

“Emily please, just ple-“ Emily cut you off by burying two fingers inside you, the sudden pleasure causing a long, loud moan escape your lips.

You were both always so vocal about your time together even when staying at hotels, so you could count that Morgan would be teasing you about it tomorrow since he was the one sharing a wall with you. But you could not be bothered.

“Am I hurting you?” She asked with genuine concern on her eyes.

“No, it’s perfect just don’t stop” she smiled against your lips. You decided to take advantage of the situation, and moved the one hand that wasn’t wrapped on her hair, to meet her centre, and gently run your finger through her.

“Fuck. Don’t stop” she breathed before kissing you again.

She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed

One last hard press against it had you coming undone, Emily let you ride your orgasm, although it doesn’t take her long to reach her high as well and she comes apart collapsing on top of you.

The heavy breaths filled the silent room, you caressed her hair, and she gave you a last peck on the lips before getting off of you, moving so you could face each other, she wraps her arm around your waist and brings you as close to her as possible.

“I couldn’t stand the way she was looking at you today” you admit

“How she looked at me? Don’t you mean he?” She asks

“I mean both of them, Viper and Jordan”

“Oh c’mon, you’re not being serious” she laughs it off

“I’m serious, I really think she’s into you”

“You’re not even jealous anymore, you are being completely unreasonable now”

“Ok, whatever you say, just remember, my gay radar never fails” you tell her to make her laugh, but you’re not totally joking

“Just so you know, Viper was right. I did have someone in my mind”

“Oh? And who might that be?” You say teasingly

“Try and guess” she says, going for another kiss that you reciprocate with a big smile on your lips.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:

[science-lings]

okay this has been going through my mind for days and I have to get my thoughts out before I explode

Disclaimer, this is not talking about a specific artist/person and would never condone or participate in anon hate or online bullying for any reason but especially this one. 

I get why people are mad about Link being portrayed as this buff, hypermasculine, tall guy. I am too (again don’t fucking attack people over it though) and it seems like such an infuriating way to change the character just to fit into some ideal of hypermasculine attractiveness or to make a ship fall into a more hetero lense by making him a decent foot taller than whatever girl he’s being paired with. 

The world of video games and action movies and every form of media ever is extremely saturated with male characters that are swole and manly and whatever other descriptors people are trying to push onto Link that don’t fit into his actual character. There are so many characters out there that already fit this male standard and having a clearly androgynous elf guy was like a breath of fresh air. 

Link was literally designed to be a character whose lines on gender were blurred, ‘a girl with a masculine touch or a guy with a feminine touch’ so that anyone could project themselves onto him. His physical design in botw/totk was specifically made to be feminine enough to wear a certain outfit to pass as a woman (which includes a nearly mandatory cutscene where he puts on the clothes and blushes after being called pretty, like you have to be blind to think that its an experience that he doesn’t like at all) and in totk there are a bunch of outfits made for Link that are blatantly gnc, ones that are practically dresses, include nail polish and lipstick, you can even dye his hair bright and vivid colors and that’s half way to giving him new pronouns. The whole reason Linkle isn’t included in more mainline loz games was because her existence would force Link into a gender dichotomy, if there's a clearly female version of the main hero, that means the main hero has to be a man, and they would rather abandon a potential reoccurring character than make Link conform to a gender binary. 

So pardon me when it feels disingenuous and even malicious for him to be morphed into these clear masculine ideals, where he towers over any female romantic partner (even when in canon he is regularly depicted as noticeably shorter than her) or even in m/m fanworks he’s really beefed up, perhaps to make the scene feel more gay or something. 

Perhaps it’s because his more twink-y/ femboy body type is so heavily sexualized (though obviously when people are sculping abs on him it’s totally not because they’re horny about it) and that’s an issue in itself that bothers me. But it’s just so tiring to see one of the very few popular main characters who is short and feminine and androgynous be molded into just another bland muscle-headed action hero over and over and over again. 

I’m not mad at the creators for portraying him differently than how I like him portrayed, I’m mad because we really do get so few characters like him in good popular media, and to be honest, I really like him the way that he is. I love that he’s tiny and has long hair and has the option to dress any way the player likes. It seems a little distasteful to make him taller than a female love interest just because that’s how straight couples have to be, there’s just never been a real straight couple where the guy is shorter than the girl, that’s just Impossible! (/s) 

[lacesoflove]

hamzah once tweeted that he didnt care about fics being written about him idk if his viewpoint changed but honestly i dont think so cause hes chronically online still so he knows how it is (also i lowkey think that the tiktok community is the worst of all slushy communities they just make up fake stories about hamzah having a secret gf like every other week and most people commenting on there are really something else)

oh don’t get me started on the tik tok community…i just talked about the reddit community because it’s relevant and topical rn, but the tik tok community is actually something else.

i think, and maybe I’m overanalysing this way too deep, because im high as fuck, but i feel like typing a wall of text rn, so i will do just that. (everything said is my opinion and based on my experience from fandom culture, also i forget to say “not all but some” sometimes so i just want ro let you guys know im generalising) also i mention sa very very briefly!!

i think a lot of the tik tok fans are trying to mold hamzah and martin into the traditional social media personalities archetype, similar to tara yummy and jake and the rest of those “emo” guys (idgaf about them ngl 😭 apologies ig if you enjoy their content) - and i’m not saying slushynoobz’s is somehow more highbrow - which i want to quickly add (i swear im not beefing with like the entirety of this fandom i actually love slushies), i feel like there’s also another facet of slushies (to be totally honest i can have my downfalls and act like them sometimes) who like to treat hamzah and martin (i think i said this in my previous post) as above social media influencer culture or are highbrow because they make controversial jokes and shit, but like - they’re literally not? they’re close, or at least familiar with, people like tara yummy and them. they are very much content creators, they are just more self aware about it and have more “humble” (?) origins and have less controversies lmfao and are less brand friendly - i.e hamzah just doing social media because i think he didn’t want to go to college and martin just being an IT worker for canadians gov who made comedy videos. i think the reddit fans (not all tho!!) want to turn slushynoobz and slushies into like sturniolo brothers and tara yummy’s. i notice this especially when they talk about hamzah’s love life. and it’s like yeah, i’m curious too sometimes but i think sometimes they push it. esp with the hamzah and claire shit (which mind you shes still a teenager and hes like 22 - and yes, three years is not bad but like she was 15 and he was 18 when they met, the maturity difference hello???) or even, and i made a post about this already too lmfao, the whole mandy hating martin jokes (which ik are jokes 😭 im not that autistic) which tbh, in my personal opinion, are just overused and in poor taste.

im just worried that the fandom is gonna become a mess, especially with their growing popularity, and i feel like once hamzah can go to the states again, it’s gonna attract a bunch of new people! which is great for them and the community but unfortunately ive been through the dsmp and i hate to sound like that one gatekeeping ass hoe who calls new fans newgen (especially considering i only began watching slushynoobz this year and would only watch 4freakshow when a clip here and there would pop up), but like the fandom is going to get worse 😭

i just wish there was balance in this community like idk man and that people weren’t so extreme (which might be contradictory because i feel like i sound extreme in this post but then again, it might be the ganja), like yes? is it okay to be curious to want to know whay happened between hamzah and haley? yeah, maybe, sure - they’re public figures and had a falling ouf, naturally people are going to be curious? is it right to leave her comments about it or make weird rumours about them dating? no. is it weird to write really weird hamzah fics (and im talking weird with really grotesque topics like sa)? yes. it is, but my issue with reddit fans - the slushies arent even writing fics like that anyways, it’s tame.

im running out of what i wanna say coherently but yeah i just want us all to get along (which tbh, us tumblr girlies do with each other ngl) 🤒

[padfootreggie]

Nemesis

Luke Castellan x OC

Warnings: daughter of Athena reader, smut, enemies with benefits, threats, hickeys, rough sex, makeouts

Summary: Valerie was practicing her archery until a boy decides to flirt with Luke's girl.

I whine finally sitting up, my sister had woken me up for breakfast. Quickly I grab my orange camp half-blood shirt but its shrunk in the dryer "fuck- Annabeth do you have an extra shirt?"

Annabeth sighs "you got paint on the last shirt I gave you Val, I don't really want to" I groan "I'm sorry again, please pleaseee"

She ignores me, I groan putting on the shirt. It's actually kinda cute. Then I change into my last pair of pajama shorts and sandals.

I start running to get some food. Hopefully they didn't finish me. I sit at my cabins table grabbing some grapes.

Some people stare at my outfit, sure it's a bit tight but what can I do? Oh well, I'll do laundry later. I can feel some special person staring deeply into my soul, of course it's stupid Luke

He glared at me angrily, staring me up and down before going back to his happy facade. I yawn finishing my breakfast.

Soon I walk off to the place I love most, the archery field. I grab a bow and arrow, and start shooting. I'm wrather good at archery now.

I practiced a lot over the years I'm been here, I've been here since I was 15, now I'm 18. Luke decided to walk over with that annoying smirk on his face.

Sure Luke is attractive, but something about him just gets on my nerves. He's so talkative and looves to annoy me.

I work on my practice, trying to find what's wrong with my form. Until I hear this grating voice "Hey princess" a boy from Ares says.

He's been trying to get with me for a month. He's a know player, but he's so pretty. I force a smile on my face batting my eyes "hey, Christian" my voice suggestive and innocent.

Christian smirks watching my body "so how's everything going?" I turn my body away trying to focus on practice I mutter "alls fine, and you?"

He goes closer and closer until our bodies mesh together. I notice Luke glaring, I smirk making eye contact as I slightly grind against the boy.

Christian moans in my ear. I feel so icky, but if it gets on Luke's nerves I'll do anything. Luke walks over intimidating Christian with Luke looking furious despite his usual fake personality.

The boy who was practically needy for me becomes distant. Luke smiled "you mind if I take Valerie for a second Christian?"

Christian scoffs but nods, obviously disappointed that Luke came. Luke practically drags me away to Hermes cabin.

I huff "Luke where are you taking me? Let me go!" Trying to act like I'm mad but I'm enjoying this. Luke is extremely possessive over me.

Since I'm 'his girl' all we do is hook up though, can never actually be together...right? The cabin is empty, still messy and cluttered.

Luke pushes me onto his bed grunting "why was Christian practically fucking you out there?!" I whine being pushed down.

"He went to me, Luke it's not my fault!" I pout, yelping when he pulls down my small shorts.

He whispered "and wearing this shit? Your begging for me baby you know how I hate others seeing what's mine!"

I cackle "I'm 'yours?' You can't even be near me in public!!" He huffs "you know what I fucking mean Val"

Luke rubs my clothed clit, my purple panties drenched in arousal. I whine as my puffy pussy is rubbed by Luke.

Pulling down my panties he stares at my shirt angrily "fucking gods such a small shirt, baby it's like your trying to make me fuck you on the tables out there. I bet you'd like that huh? Letting everyone know who you belong to?"

I bite my lower lip whining, he unzips his jeans just enough to take out his dick. I moan at the sight, he's so needy. His tip a pretty pink.

Pre-cum leaks down his cock. It's been so long since we've done this. He pushes into me, not caring if I'm hurt or not.

Moaning my back arches, he fills me up so goodly, it's like he's made for me. His hips piston into my throbbing pussy.

Luke breathes out "been a long time so fucking tight for me babe." My back arches, and my toes curl. Sweat drips down my forehead.

It never takes him long to make me cum, it's been such a long time without cock I could cum in seconds I swear.

A tight feeling forms in my stomach, I'm so close. Luke fists my curls, pulling tightly. I moan and whine louder, showing him I'm close.

He goes faster if that's possible he growls "would he ever fuck you like this Val? Huh?" Me being fucked dumb I can't answer.

I shake my head no, a whimpering mess. My pussy tightens around his veiny dick. Making me cry out, Luke bites my shoulder.

He groans going harder, I love his sounds. They make him seem more human as he pounds into my dripping pussy.

I whine, back arching. I cry into his neck. "L-Luke I'm sorry! I won't talk to him ev-er again I swear I swear!!"

Luke only laughs feeling my squirt on his cock, he covers my mouth with his large hand "Quiet Val, don't want a camper to hear you hm?"

Lewd moans, and big slaps fill the cabin. After maybe 45 minutes I'm pretty sure I came 4 times, I'm so overwhelmed with pleasure.

I cry out "Luke I'm so-sory ple- n'more!!" I'm just mumbling words, stuttering and whining. Yet he keeps going. Luke whimpers "who do you belong to baby?"

Mumbling and crying I finally answer "you!! Luke C-Castellan I be-brlobg to you!!" He groans Cumming on my stomach, it's drooping down my sides from how long he's held in.

He lays his body on mine groaning. He kisses my cheeks, and neck for a while. We fall asleep both knowing we'll hate each other again in the morning...

--------------------------✩-------------------------

A/n: I hoped you liked this! It's so fun writing stuff like this bc sometimes I get butterflies from my own writing😭 who wants more Valerie?

[szollibisz]

Do you have any hcs abt how Curt and Owen "came out" to one another? (Using the term loosely cuz obviously they can't just be like "IM GAY") And also how they got together (who fell first etc etc)

Ok, so to preface this, my favourite thing about curtwen is just how many ways you can interpret their pre-canon relationship.

I try to keep their story relatively loose in my head, save for a few headcanons I very strongly believe in, because it's more fun this way.

For me, the #1 headcanon that's in all the iterations I think of, is that they hated each other at first. I think their personalities clash way too much for them to be all buddy-buddy on the first day. (Physical attraction? maybe. Was it minuscule compared to their irritation with each other? yes.)

I just think it's interesting how the two of them gradually (and begrudgingly) start to care about each other.

I think their "friendship stage" is one of my favourite parts about the whole thing. Now I refuse to believe either of those men have friends. Maybe coworkers and acquaintances, but not friends. Which is why this stage lasts so little.

As their work their way up to care for and respect each other, both of them go a little crazy about it.

It's the first time in years or even decades they felt genuine affection and maybe even trust, and both of them are extremely starved for it. So it really doesn't take much for them to fall for each other. (especially since the aforementioned physical attraction was always there and only getting stronger as they learned to tolerate each other)

I imagine, because of this, Owen was the one who fell first, and he employed his usual tactic for dealing with unwanted feelings: Being an ass and depriving himself of good things. He got more intense about his work, trying to immerse himself in it, so he'll stop thinking about Curt. He stayed up late, didn't even try to take it easy when he had a migraine, drank shit coffee and other great things.

It technically worked. He looked like shit, which in turn made Curt worried, and if Owen completely invalidated his worries the two of them would get into a fight, be mad at each other and not interact so much. Owen thought this would make him not yearn for Curt so bad (he still did, in fact, yearn for him that bad)

When Curt realized he was in love with Owen he was pretty horrified. Like listen. If someone has commitment issues it's Curt. Maybe he had a boyfriend or two during his teenage years/twenties, but they didn't end well, and since then he's been trying to keep everybody at arms length. He convinced himself Owen wasn't so bad because hey. They were just buddies (and Curt desperately needed a buddy.)

He tried to shove down and ignore his feelings, but moaning your friend's name while banging another guy may just be a little more than what you can avoid.

He never understood why Owen turned so cold suddenly, and he was terrified Owen just didn't like or trust him anymore. In turn he was also mad at him for trying to shut him out.

Their little hate renaissance could only last so long though. They were still each other's only friends and no matter what they did they kept being drawn back to each other.

This was a super long preface but. I am not normal about those two.

So. different scenarios and headcanons and whatnot

1. Either one of them somehow discovers the other is gay. This would probably mean Owen finding out about Curt, because, I wholeheartedly believe that man would leave during a mission sometimes just to get a quick fuck in. Maybe Owen finds out with evidence (fast & easy method) or he just starts strongly suspecting with his great spying and deduction skills (slow & torturous method, he'd try to convince himself he's just seeing what he wants to see) either way, the confrontation would be very uncomfortable for both of them. Curt would deny it ofc, and Owen would go through the internal battle of "tell him it's fine, you won't rat him out, but be a little homophobic about it, so maybe you can keep the only friend you have, but also be ok with the fact that he'll always be with other men and never you" or "tell him you're gay too, maybe he likes you, maybe not, and potentially risk losing your job and livelihood and everything you've ever worked for" He'd most likely end up doing the latter, surprising both Curt and himself. (He's already way more into Curt than he admits to himself) And things escalate from there.

2. Dramatic post mission (maybe a "I thought I'd never see you again" moment) This is where their friendship gets really interesting to me. For a scenario like this the months long yearning is a given, maybe even a lot of unresolved tension between the two (which would probably be resolved with violence anyways) They care very deeply about each other by now. They know each other better than anyone, and their idyllic relationship is only made into a living hell by all the pining. At this point I mean, they'd buy each other birthday gifts, go over to the other's house when they were in the same country and share way too much info over drinks. Their job is always dangerous, but even they can get scared. Maybe we're talking being crazy outnumbered, or a torture/hostage situations, or hell even a collapsing building. Point is, id either one of them thought the other (or both of them) may die, at this point they'd be impulsive enough to just say I love you or kiss the other. In the moment neither of them would care, and later on, when you'd normally talk about things like near death makeout sessions, they'd just. not. do that, because communication is for guys with better life prospects. This one has absolutely no coming-out talk in it, simply because they don't need it

3. Possibly drunk hookup Now clearly, we are talking about two of the most down bad men ever. This is one scenario, I think could also work really well when they still really hated each other. Maybe throughout their first few mission they both gathered enough evidence and sussed each other out, and after (yet another) explosive fight they might just. Alleviate the tension by not beating each other up but by. other means. They don't end up talking much about it, but it keeps happening, and wait maybe they don't even hate each other all that much. (This is the more sober option) The other one is where the "possibly drunk" comes in. If they've been friends for a while, they probably got used to working around each other and finding comfort in the other's presence. This includes little habits, inside jokes, and even (very small) physical touches. This probably wouldn't go down during a mission, it's more likely to happen at either Curt's or Owen's house, maybe during some holiday. Both of them realizing it's a pretty bad idea early on, because, without all the stress of the missions and navigating a foreign country all that's left is them and the feelings they have for each other. Owen would probably say no to drinks for the first few times, just to avoid a potentially dangerous situation, but Curt would wear him down eventually. Now, with both of them drunk and comfortable, it wouldn't take much for things to escalate. Maybe Curt forgets to take his hand off of Owen after patting him on the back, or Owen holds Curt gaze for a little too long. Either way, those two end up fucking. The next day both of them are a little horrified, but they manage to come clean about their feelings (even if it's in the most backwards and convoluted way possible)

Happy ending (or not) There's many more ways it could've happened, but I already wrote wayyyy too much I think.

In the end I don't think they'd ever have a proper conversation about homosexuality, even way into their relationship. It's something they slowly pick up on from each other. How ashamed are they, what makes them tick, what you shouldn't say etc. And then of course, since they don't communicate properly and sometimes purposefully hurt each other, they'd throw it all back in the other's face.

I'm not sure this is what you meant when you asked for hcs, but I got carried away.

[weirdo09]

hobie brown

i’d just like to say, i hope y’all never meet a black boy nor man because y’all’s behavior over one black teenager is honestly disturbing.

like the racist headcanons, the not taking accountability for your disturbing fics about him because “HIS AGE ISNT MENTIONED!!” like don’t act dumb, you know them people said that he’s a slight older boy than miles which would be like 1-2 years, making him 16-17. it’s also just the “i want his dick inside of me” “i want to have his kids” and the sex hcs where it’s like “he’ll fuck you hard and not give you aftercare, just leaves you to take care of yourself.”

i’m not really bothered by the smut fics and hcs cause he is attractive and i will read them every once in awhile but y’all be taking it to the extremes, calling him toxic, making him out like some abusive boyfriend, he’s only sweet when he wants you to have sex with him, he only wants you for sex, he’s a full person but only cool because he’s in a band and has sex with you, he lets his band mates fuck you without your consent, he rapes you for whatever reason (y’all’s writings not mine), he doesn’t care about stopping to see if you’re okay or if you need a break.

basically what i’m seeing is that he’s only good for sex and some of the good fics about him only portray certain parts of him. like i’m all for writing about your favorite characters n what not but if you’re basically gonna treat his character like you’re personal boytoy and not see him as anything else, it’s really harmful. especially with y’all not tagging your fics correctly and the smut fics i previously mention get seen by a minor who would want to read smut of him but not that bullcrap.

y’all literally write him being abusive to his partner, not just physically but call it “teasing”. i’m sorry but if my partner said something about breaking up with me or that i’m not good enough, would i think that that’s just “teasing”? like honestly, if you treat all your ‘blorbos’ like this then i feel sorry for you because hobie’s an amazing character that isn’t just there for you to dream about fucking and getting pregnant by him.

he’s there to show you how corruption and fascism impacting your way of life can lead to you wanting to rebel and become an anarchist to that society. he’s there to teach you that you can make your rules, that you’re more than what one person tells you, you tell yourself what you wanna be. he’s a symbol for black people who don’t wanna follow the rules of a white supremacist, fascist society, for the people who’ve ever just been like “fuck the government, i’m my own person.”

i really feel like y’all take him for granted and he is a character for a children’s type of media so the “well minors shouldn’t be looking for his smut!!” doesn’t work here. honestly, do y’all ever care about characters that aren’t perceived as “fuckable” or “attractive” by your standards? it just really pisses me off because y’all act like that’s all he’s there for, your yearning for BBC has really dimmed your perception of this character. HES A IMPORTANT CHARACTER FOR YALL TO ROLE MODEL CAUSE ITS OBVIOUS YALL DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE MOVIE’S CHILD AUDIENCE BUT YOU GIVE A FUCK ABOUT HIM SO

if you care about hobie, please remember that there’s more to him than you wanting him to fuck you and he would hate the things that you’ve done to him because you have bigger issues in the world than “he would fuck you with his big cock.” LIKE WAKE THE FUCK UP WE COULD BE MAKING ANALYSIS OF HIS CHARACTER BUT INSTEAD YOU THINK THAT HES JUST THERE TO BE EYE CANDY LIKE OMGGGG

just please for the sack of everyone, learn more about his character and stop tryna be antiblack and sex crazed over him. if you love hobie, just stop being the way that you are because it’s honestly disgusting to have to see grown adults wanting a canon minor to fuck them. you ain’t slick, the fact that i even have to write this is disgusting. do better, fandom is more than saying that you would fuck a character, care more about the teenagers on this site that are in the fandom with you as well. stop being selfish and start caring about the other people in the fandom.

[velvetvexations]

on the topic of trans women being affected by transandrophobia, there has been a lot of recent discourse on twitter from TRFs over artworks that are assumed to be of trans women (but are usually of non-binary people, or a loving portrait of pre-transition trans woman drawn by her friend) appearing too “masculine.” In these discourses several butch and gender non conforming trans women have spoken up about feeling hurt to see their peers call art that looks like them (or is even explicitly *of* them) be called caricature or a troonjack. Following one of these events I saw a tweet bemoaning how butch transfems are *always* taking the “TMEs” side and betraying their sisters and that this made them “honorary transmascs who should be treated as such.”

It reminded me so distinctly of the bullying I received before I even realized I was trans for failing womanhood, and then the subsequent “gender traitor” treatment I received. I understand that trans women might not necessarily want to understand that treatment as being an extension of transandrophobia, and frankly I think the way those trans women and fems were being treated could as easily be called transmisogyny, it just made me think a lot about how transphobia can be deeply… circular I suppose in how we are punished. Now that I am broadly read as an effeminate man I deal with a lot of bullying from other men (cis and trans) that a lot of trans women could probably relate to from before they transitioned. We have a lot in common.

I'm becoming increasingly convinced that transradfems really fucking hate GNC trans women because they aren't pretty anime forcefem kink girly girls.

It would explain why they've painting other queers as obsessed with transmisogynistic caricatures their new thing, so they can make sure other trans women stay attractive to them. Hey, did you get any comfort from that post about love for butch t-girls? Yeah, sorry to break it to you, they're basically calling you Buffalo Bill. They think you're Tim Curry in RHPS. If a TME is ever nice to you it's because you're ugly and don't pass and they see you as a drag queen who they love so much more than real t-girls who of course all look like this fictional femboy I throw a raging fit about not canonically being transfem despite not even being in the fandom.

Having said that, lmfao I want to be an honorary transmasc, plllllease. I feel the most community with the transandrophobia-acknowledging part of the internet and with my experiences in life having already been extremely weighted towards interacting with AFAB trans people and cis men because I met people mostly through kin* and kink,** I have this sense of being an outsider that can't connect with people on that level.***

*actual proper "this is literally me in a past life" fictionkin are overwhelmingly AFAB to the point I don't think another AMAB person has ever even submitted an application to the server I'm in

**my kinks are weighted towards AFAB people and cis men; even with my misgendering kink I still have to wade through a billion posts for AFAB people to find one crumb of AMAB content

***still mad about that TRF who took me being sad about alienation and was like "of course no other transfem wants to talk to her she's so transmisogynistic" as though my problem with TRFs making me feel alienated from transfems is them having a problem with me and not me being proudly opposed to them

[effy-writes]

Can I request Striker with a fem s/o (hcs) who is basically the opposite of him, readers a city girl, wears expensive dresses, expensive jewelry, designer heels, and she's most likely a celebrity but she's still polite?? Ty!!

ofc!! sorry it’s taking me so long i have like 10 requests 😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

striker x f! yuppie! model! reader HC’s

• striker knew of you because you were a popular model in the Wrath ring. you did all sorts of modeling. fashion, perfume, hands, tail, lingerie, even weaponry. striker being striker, he hated the idea of you. hates yuppies (rich person) absolutely despises them, so he kinda hated you (but he still thought you were extremely attractive). the first time he actually met you was when you were buying a gun that you modeled for. he instantly recognized you because you were wearing expensive clothes with a fucking gucci coat and heels. while shopping, you didn’t know which gun to buy (you only modeled for them, you actually have no idea on which one is better), so you asked striker.

• he was shocked that you were wanting to get his opinion, especially a poor imp like himself. he thought to himself, “why would a rich person want my opinion?”, but he saw how nice you talked to him. you didn’t treat him like a pest, you treated him like an actual person. (he has bad self esteem issues). after that little interaction of him telling you which gun is better and which one he recommends for you, you decided to ask him out. “you’re really attractive, can we go out sometime? getting to know each other better?” he thought you were tricking him to humiliate, but he saw the way you look at him with those sweet, beautiful eyes of yours, so he said yes

• ever since then you two hit it off. he found out so many things about you that you don’t broadcast to the world. he also found out that you don’t model for the money or for the popularity, you model because it makes you happy and helps give you confidence. he was hesitant to tell you about his work, but when he did you were oddly excited. you thought that was so cool and that he’s killing people with a gun that YOU modeled for.

• he was the one who properly asked you to date. he was nervous as FUCK only because he felt like he didn’t deserve a model like you, but you obviously thought very different. you love his personality, his demeanor, and his ambition. the moment you two started dating the media got out about it. he was embarrassed (not because of you, because he didn’t want to seem weak and vulnerable because he IS an assassin, but you quickly told him that it doesn’t make him sound weak or anything like that and you’re very grateful to be dating a guy like him)

•he enjoyed that you never bragged about your money (even though you do wear expensive shit, but he knows you deserve to wear expensive shit because you have to deal with creeps)

• speaking of creeps, he will 100% shoot anybody that tries to touch you, cat call you, or even look at you with lustful eyes. he’s very protective and will do anything to keep you safe.

• you LOVE buying him things, it’s your love language. he always says “you don’t have to buy me fancy shit, i ain’t jealous” “but you’ll look so hot in this! plus let me spoil you, please?”

• because everyone is up your ass, everyone knows about striker and his assassination business. he thought it will bring his sales down, but because you’re so popular and everyone knew him, more people started paying him to kill others. so it was def a win-win situation

• he often feels bad that he can’t treat you with nice things, but you’ll always tell him that you don’t care about money and that you never did. you care if he’s happy and comfortable. but because he’s not rich like you, he will try his best to buy you sentimental things. flowers, love letters, he even saved up his money to buy you a HORSE. (you two joke around and say his and your horse is dating)

• he’s afraid you think that he’s with you for the money, so he’s always telling you that he’s not with you for that. he’s with you because you make him feel happy, you’re super sweet to him, and that there’s somebody in hell that cares about him. you always reassure him that you know he’s not with you for the money

bonus: everyone in the media ships you guys so hard that there’s edits of the two of you, fan art, AND fanfics. striker finds it a little weird, but you find it so fucking funny

[starbeltconstellation]

Since you are a passionate jedi fan, I would be interested in your opinion on a thing I noticed on AO3. There is a fanon that is inspired by Ancient Greek scholars having had sex with their pupils. In the fics there is a special night in which the masters have to fuck their padawans because it is tradition. Sex and AO3, you ask? What's new, you ask? What is new is that the writers explicitely write in their notes that the institutionalized fucking of the padawans is their way to show how corrupt and morally bad the jedi are. But how is something that fanfic writers completely made up to get more readers (because sex sells) a critique of the jedi in canon? No matter what answer I come up with, it is weird. Are these fanfic writers fetishizing a law allowing teachers to fuck their students, feel bad for their own arousal and try to shrug it off by making themselves believe that they are just writing these sex scenes for a "good cause"? I mean, if they hated the jedi so much, why would they write about them? The MCU or DC would get them more readers, right? I simply can't come up with a satisfying answer to why this mental gymnastics exist. I know this is a very long ask, but please address it if it is of any interest to you as well!

Hi, anon! 👋💕✨

Sooooo deeply sorry for the long wait time. 😭😖💔 Things just got away from me, and I kept putting off my response because I wanted to make sure I had the time to give the nitty gritty of my thoughts on your ask.

And as a pro jedi fan and a SW fan in general… I just have to say… ew. 😭☹️🤢💔

And it’s not necessarily that I’m trying to SHAME people that write darker or more sexual stuff (even though there are some things that just genuinely baffle me why ANYONE would enjoy writing something so horrible, but then again, I’ve never been a fan of horror movies, sooo… 😂🤷‍♀️).

And look, I’m aware that fiction is separate from reality and not necessarily a show of a person’s morals (it’s FAKE, at the end of the day), but at the same TIME, I believe people on this app and just in fandom spaces in general sometimes purposely plug their ears and sing “lalalala” by pretending that how we interact with the world doesn’t shape our perception and psyche to SOME degree.

And this isn’t me saying that if someone writes something like “noncon” or “whump” that they’re going to go out and hurt anybody! That’s the EXTREME reaction that conservative panic tries to drum up by pretending that people have no self control and need to be shielded from “corruption 🙄” or something like that. But what I DO believe is that seeing stories (whether love stories or family stories in general) WILL affect how someone can come to view relationships. This is on a tier scale, obviously. Kids and teenagers will have a harder time grasping why “365 Days” is not a modern Beauty and the Beast movie. 😭🤦‍♀️ BUT… with ADULTS… it’s easier to separate fiction from reality… in a CONSCIOUS way. But for me, from a psychological standpoint, if a person grows up with a specific attraction to certain toxic love stories that are PRESENTED as healthy when they just aren’t—it’s POSSIBLE that they can unconsciously seek out someone who fits that mold. I don’t think this is the NORM—but it IS a possibility, and that’s why I think it’s so important to recognize yourself and your own wants and needs in the real world and ask yourself “Does this make me feel safe and happy? Or just obsessively DESIRED?” and other things such as that.

Anyway, I got a little off topic (which I often do 😭😅), but my POINT is my disgust isn’t necessarily about these writers’s choices on exploring such darker themes in their work if they truly want to—it’s THEIR fic, at the end of the day. But what DOES disgust me is (yes, dear anon, you guessed it! 🙃🙃) that apparently writers are USING this trope to create even MORE anti Jedi rhetoric when there is already SO much of it in the community in general (and that god awful ‘The Acolyte’ show only made the hatred and genocide apologia worse, even though I do acknowledge the show wasn’t given as much of a chance as Ahsoka and The Mandolrian shows were).

Just as The Acolyte had to INVENT an entire scenario where the “EMPATHETIC SPACE MONKS 😭🤦‍♀️” of the galaxy apparently cover up a massacre which DIRECTLY parallels Anakin Skywalker’s descent to the Dark Side—which makes NO goddamn sense that it’s truly LAUGHABLE—you have brought to me a fic trope scenario where the writer has apparently INVENTED something that was NEVER canon to show how “corrupt 🙄” the Jedi Order is—before they stand back and go “haha! 😌 See? SUCHHH horrible people.”, as if they didn’t just invent that scenario in THEIR own head to justify their bias against the Jedi and their way of life.

It’s very similar to the uncharitable views that certain parts of the SW fandom (specifically the Anidala and the radical Anakin fans) have towards the Jedi in regards to NONCANON info that we do NOT truly know (such as why Anakin never visited Shimi all that time), before just CHOOSING the most uncharitable and mean spirited view of the Jedi that they can, which is saying—“Well, the Jedi Order must have a strict policy on NEVER seeing your birth family again, or they’ll be kicked out! 🤪🤪”, when there is NOTHING in canon to ever give any indication of that. It’s literally fanon that has somehow all but become canon in the eyes of the fandom, and I haven’t the foggiest clue how it happened (yes I do. 🙄🫠 It’s because SW fans LIKE Anakin, so of COURSE they don’t want to admit he was in the wrong or that he could’ve taken things too personally or the wrong way—so they settle on, “Those mean Jedi must’ve bullied him and kept him from his mom! 😡🤪”🙄🤦‍♀️).

Fans will make something up out of thin air—literally twisting themselves into KNOTS to try and excuse Anakin’s choices while blaming everyone else to pretend it’s not his fault and he didn’t truly have a choice (COMPLETELY untrue)—while at the very same TIME, giving absolutely NONE of that courtesy to the Jedi Order themselves. The Jedi’s actions are nitpicked to DEATH. Everything they do—choosing to fight in the war to save lives instead of sitting on the sidelines to watch the galaxy burn, not worshiping the ground Anakin walked on to try and teach him humility and grace and respect, literally putting their LIVES on the line RIGHT BESIDE THE CLONES each day on the battlefield, Mace going to arrest Palpatine before realizing the man would never be convicted at a corrupt trial—NONE of it is ever enough.

They are 10,000 strong (NOT taking into consideration how some are younglings or retired Jedi), and yet they are judged with the sharpness of a knife that they cannot solve every damn trillions of problems in the galaxy.

They are a literal DROP in the ocean. It is LAUGHABLE to expect them to somehow be able to end slavery throughout the galaxy in the Outer Rim without the backing of the Republic’s help (which they definitely would NOT choose to help the Jedi, and even if somehow they DID, it would STILL be a long and tedious thing that would take DECADES to fully accomplish), and it is even MORE ludicrous to BLAME the JEDI FUCKING ORDER of all people for the Clones’s situation, like they could just stroll into the Senate building and wave their lightsabers around to suddenly give the clones their (deserved) rights, or to expect them to somehow—what? Kidnap all the clones (because a lot of clones would sadly NOT go willingly because of their brainwashing indoctrination that this is what they were ‘made for’) and run from fighting in the war? Where the hell do people expect them to GO? How do people expect the Jedi to be able to take CARE of all those people (INCLUDING their own) in such a situation without the Republic backing or the Temple walls?—be able to just magically give the clones rights or to just magically be able to say no to fighting in the war as if that would somehow do ANYTHING for the clones instead of just placing them under the rule of men like Tarkin.

The one thing I will concede is that (WHILE being in the war, because YES, despite what some people believe, it was UNAVOIDABLE. Palpatine definitely made sure of that) the Jedi probably needed to learn to get more into politics to control their image in the eyes of the public (ironic, considering how many people blame them for their own genocide by saying they were ‘too involved in politics 🙄’ when the TRUTH is that they did everything to AVOID being in the political sphere because they heavily disliked it). There is a bit of (gentle-hearted) naïveté here, because they all assume that the citizens of the galaxy will just SEE that the Jedi are trying to protect them. But people get selfish and greedy REAL fast when their lives become affected badly by things happening around them. And the more the war dragged on, the more citizens of the galaxy (disgustingly) latched onto Palpatine’s slowly growing propaganda that the Jedi were somehow the big bad villains of the war and not like—oh, I don’t know—the fucking SENATE. 😭🙄🤦‍♀️

My POINT is that—you’re RIGHT, anon. This fic trope you’ve brought up is (while HEAVILY ew in my eyes 😭🤢) just one part of a growing infection of the SW fandom where it’s becoming the “edgy” take to blame the Jedi (the VICTIMS) for their own genocide, instead of placing the blame at the politicians’s feet, where it belongs. Palpatine wasn’t able to gain this power ALONE. The Senate makes it EASY for him. Because they’re all out for themselves at the end of the day (YES, even Padmé, who would’ve taken Anakin’s tusken massacre to the grave if she’d had the chance), and even the ones that DO care about the bills they’re trying to push to help change things STILL are in such a position of privilege (ironic, considering fandom pretends the Jedi Order is ‘privileged’, when they are anything but and are more of a ‘model minority’ group struggling desperately to keep the soft power they have to at the very LEAST have a place at the Senate’s side to TRY and make them see reason sometimes) that they forget about the little people suffering underneath them (Padmé has to be REMINDED of this by one of her handmaidens at one point).

The point is that George Lucas intended the SENATE to be the corruption of the Prequels that brought about their own doom. Not the fucking JEDI. 😭🤦‍♀️ But somehow, SW fandom has rewritten their memories to somehow believe this to be true. But if they’d watch ANY George Lucas interview, they’d see this is not the case. And people are allowed to have different interpretations of stories at the end of the day—but what IS ridiculous is how certain anti Jedi fans SHAMELESSLY try to rewrite history by outright STATING that it WAS GL’s original intent to portray the Jedi as ‘corrupt 🙄’, which is just… SO far from accurate that it’s laughable.

But yeah, at the end of the day, the REAL ‘villain’ (besides the Sith) of the prequels is the SENATE, because THEY are the ones who should be doing their jobs, but who are INSTEAD lining their pockets or kissing up to the clueless citizens of the galaxy come election time, while apathetically expecting the Jedi Order to solve all the problems that the SENATE is too damn lazy and selfish to solve.

The one conclusion I can make is that if the Jedi HAD realized they’d need to play the game of politics to keep in the public’s good graces—then you bet your ASS they would have been on intergalactic interview after intergalactic interview subtly “hinting” at the clones’s lack of rights and plight to try and stir up public outcry—because THAT is how you get true change. By changing things from WITHIN the very public itself. Because THAT is the only thing that will make the Senate LISTEN—is if they’re at risk of losing votes later on down the line.

Anyway, I of course went on the longest of rants once again. Lol. 😂😅 But I hope the long wait time was worth this response! 😊❤️💕

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To any readers that stumble across this and are curious enough to check out my fic:

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