#look no offense i respect everyones taste.

[sunieepo]

"who's hotter? blonde anime stick man or lawn gnome?" i cant tell if this is an improvement over finding the cartoon skeletons attractive or not

[cimmanonrowl]

Boyfriend

Nothing in this world has ever baffled Aaron Hotchner more than your questionable taste in men. And after witnessing firsthand how shitty your boyfriend was, he made it his night’s mission to steal your mind from him and show you what you’ve been missing all along.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: unprotected rough sex, age gap, dom!aaron, breeding, filming, powerplay: boss/employee relationship, implied cheating.

You were the most sensible member of the BAU as far as Aaron is concerned.

In almost 5 years of working together, he’s never had a problem with you or your work ethic. You’re intelligent and logical, and you never made any rash decision that put yourself or anyone on the team in danger, nor did you ever compromise a case for any reckless, unaccounted reason. Years passed and all the doubts he initially had about you melted into a puddle of respect and adoration. And since then, you never heard him or anyone else contradict your arguments.

In your defense, being the youngest in the FBI gave you the unabating urge to follow orders and protocols as they were, to always play by the book exactly the way you were taught in the Academy. Or maybe because Morgan was right when he teasingly profiled you as someone with people-pleasing tendencies— especially to Hotch and Rossi, given they are higher-ups and had the longest experience in the Bureau.

Nothing was wrong with that, of course. You’re good at what you’re doing. You’re productive; and a valuable member of the team. Slowly over the past years, you’ve gained everyone’s trust and respect. And you’ve been made aware that everyone always has your back…

Unless the topic is your relationships.

“There’s a new Korean barbecue place down the block, do you want to join us?” You stopped midway through arranging your weekly reports as Spencer leaned against your table.

Glancing around the bullpen, you noticed Penelope and Derek standing by Emily’s desk, watching you and Spencer subtly from a distance. You almost snorted when Emily and Penelope scampered to look away, while Derek only crossed his arms and raised one of his eyebrows— like he always does when he’s pissed.

You leaned towards Spencer, whispering. “They know, don’t they?”

“Garcia knows,” He whispered back promptly. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t tell anyone.”

You stared at him suspiciously, eyes squinting a little. It’s just a joke. If there’s anyone in the team that you trust with your little secrets, that’s Spencer. But you’re curious if he knows how Penelope got wind of your secret date tonight. As far as you know, Spencer was the only person who knew about this.

“I don’t judge you...” He replied with a simple shrug. “You know, people who’ve grown attached to unhealthy relationships find it difficult to leave. Given your people-pleasing tendencies, I know you’re holding onto the chance of proving yourself to him. And you’re still waiting for him to realize your worth. It’s sad actually, now that I remember that.”

You gasped in offense and disbelief, making you slap your palm on his shoulder. While Spencer only grinned and chuckled at your reaction.

“Wait till you hear what Morgan has to say.”

You shivered at the thought. Derek has always been protective of you. Ever since you joined the team, he’s claimed that you’re his little sister. Not that it was a problem, of course, you absolutely love having an older brother. It’s just that… you don’t know how to act whenever he’s pissed because you never had a brother in the first place.

As you wandered your gaze to where your friends were standing, a worried frown lidded your expression. Derek hasn’t moved an inch and is pretty much still watching you, obviously seething in annoyance. On his side stood Emily and Penelope, both looking at you with guilty faces.

“He’s going to kill me,” you mumbled to yourself.

Spencer could only snort. “Yeah, right. I wonder why...”

You turned to him in resignation, heaving a deep sigh as you did so. You focused on arranging the folders on your desk before hitting him square on the chest with the documents.

“Enjoy the weekend, Dr. Reid,” You bid him goodnight before walking away.

“What about Korean barbecue?” He called out, raising both his arms in the middle of the office.

You whirled around to face them, still taking small steps backward.

“I’ve got a date!” You announced with a cheeky grin.

The door to Aaron’s office was left open as usual. From your desk earlier, you saw him working on some paperwork due for this week. There was a mountain of it on his table. And you saw him several times leaning on his chair and massaging his temple— not that you’re watching.

“Sir?” You knocked softly on the door surface to get his attention. He was focused on the document he was reading, his eyebrows tugged together in a scowl.

When he heard your voice, though, he glanced up and almost immediately caught your eyes.

“Hey…” He greeted shortly, smiling as he leaned on his swivel chair. “Come in.”

You mirrored his smile as you handed him the documents. “My reports, sir...”

He gave you a brief nod, thanking you promptly after accepting the pile of folders. You stood in front of him for a moment, taking in every bit of his features: his clean-cut hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the light stubble on his jaw— how can someone be that attractive while under stress? Good God.

“Everything okay?”

You blinked in confusion. “Sir?”

“You’re staring,” He pointed out, chuckling. “Are you visiting that Korean barbecue with Reid?”

Your eyes automatically darted to the glass window, seeing that everyone was still waiting for you at Emily’s table. Even JJ was there, listening to Morgan ranting in frustration.

“No, I have a date later…” You admitted shyly, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Ah…” His eyebrows perked in surprise. “But I heard Garcia wanting you to come with them, do they know about this date?”

You pursed your lips before shaking your head… then nodding. 

“They didn’t know— well Reid knew— then Garcia— then now everyone else.”

Aaron nodded slowly, trying to understand your point. “And I assume you don’t want them to know?”

A deep sigh unknowingly escaped your lips.

As much as the team tries not to profile each other, it comes out instinctively. One time after discovering your ex-boyfriend was commenting publicly on other women’s bikini posts, you got so distracted that Emily had to pull you aside to make sure you were alright. Then another time when you came across the secret account he made to continue flirting with other women, you got questioned by Hotch for being so distracted.

They were so adamant in knowing what was bothering you. This is why you always try not to bring your personal issues to work.

“I’m going out with James...”

As soon as those words came out, Aaron looked stunned.

“Come again?”

“James…” You mumbled, your voice nearly cracking in embarrassment. “We’re seeing each other… again…”

It would’ve been better if the floor cracked open and swallowed you alive. The way Aaron was staring at you in disbelief was enough to shrink you in shame. You could even see the disappointment in his eyes, which is way worse than being judged in your opinion.

“The guy who dumped you after knowing you’re earning more than him and thinks women should quit their jobs after marriage?” He asked, scowling.

“Nope, that’s Benedict.”

Aaron heaved a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. The sight was so funny you almost laughed at his face.

“Is James the guy who comments on bikini pictures?”

“That’s Mark, sir…” You smiled awkwardly, scratching your ear. “He… he’s the one with the… video…”

“The one who cheated on you and filmed everything?” His scowl deepened even more. Is that even possible?

“Yes... sir... but he said he changed— okay— time to leave.”

You bolted out of his office. With how his eyes turned sharp as he heard your argument, you knew you just pushed his button.

Now it’s a funny memory, but Aaron Hotchner used to be your dream. Everyone in the BAU knew you spent your first year crushing hard on him. Until a random weekend bar hopping crushed your dream. Truth or Dare. When Morgan dared Aaron to make out with the young lady by the bar counter, you learned Aaron doesn’t like younger girls.

That made you step back. He’d obviously like career women; the mature ones, elegantly gorgeous, maybe with a good figure, curves in the right places, big boobs—

All men are the same. What do you expect, honestly? That’s what your ex-boyfriends like the most. Also their reason for cheating on you. You’re not their type, and you shouldn’t act too surprised because you knew that in the first place. Or that they have needs to fulfill. Apparently, you lack both.

“Hey, you okay?” The warmth of Aaron’s palm pulled you out of your reverie. You turned to him fast, blinking in confusion.

“Y-yes, sir. Were you saying something?”

He pursed his lips a little, nodding towards the view outside the car window.

“We’ve been here for five minutes.”

“Oh…” Heat crept on your cheeks after taking a peek, realizing you’ve already arrived in your apartment building. “Right. I’m sorry, sir. I was just thinking.”

“Of that dumbfuck asshole?”

You chuckled awkwardly, baffled by his sudden choice of words. He’s never the type who curses out of nowhere. “Sir?” 

“He made you wait for three fucking hours,” He retorted, his voice calm— dangerously so. “The one you call ‘boyfriend.’”

“He is my boyfriend…”

He stared at you, unamused. “After everything he did?”

“Well…”

At least you know everyone was right: Derek, Penelope, Emily… Aaron. Maybe you’re a hopeless case. For someone decently smart, you’re a complete idiot. You should’ve seen this coming; these men will never change. There’s no way a smart woman would allow this to happen again.

The worst part is that you couldn’t even call your friends to pick you up after getting ditched. You just missed the last train, you couldn’t book a cab, and they’re all hanging out in a Korean restaurant— except Aaron. Which led him to bring you home instead.

“What? You'd still defend him?”

After a few lingering moments of just staring at each other, you decided to offer him a small smile instead of answering. You thanked him for the ride, bid him a good night, and told him to spend his weekend resting. With a sweet yet polite smile, you stepped out of his car.

But Aaron got out before you could even walk away, following you inside the building.

“I swear, I’m fine. You should go home, Aaron,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice steady.

Aaron walked in, trailing behind you, his presence and smell immediately filling your small apartment. You closed the door behind him and turned to find him standing in the middle of your living room, his gaze sweeping over the space before settling back on you.

“I’ll rest when I know you’re okay,” He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Nice apartment.”

“Thanks…” You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Can I get you...?”

Your words died in your throat as you found yourself staring into the concerned eyes of Aaron Hotchner. He stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression stoic and something you couldn’t quite place.

“You know, I never understood your preference,” He began cautiously, his eyes directed at you. “You never made good decisions with guys, don’t you?”

“I know that, Aaron.”

“They’re all idiots. Does that turn you on?”

“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart racing as the words sank in.

“Does being treated like trash turns you on?”

A warm tear licked your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, feeling embarrassed and hurt by his words. Aaron didn’t move an inch but the way his eyes traveled along your face melted his irritation a little. Silently, he reached out and pulled you into an embrace, his arms solid and warm around your figure.

“Fucking hell…” He mumbled against your hair. “I try so fucking hard to be good to you and you let those schoolboys make you cry?”

You buried your face in his chest. “You’re the one making me cry right now.”

“It’s because I’m right.”

“I don’t need your lecture, Aaron Hotchner.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him. Your gaze collided, and you saw something shift in his eyes. The worried frown was still there, but there was something else— something more intense, subtly primal.

“If you’re expecting an apology then you’re wrong.” The muscle on his jaw ticked before he leaned toward your ear. “You know I can treat you so much better. I’d never make you wait and let someone else take you home. I can spend the entire night proving that to you.”

Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters and his reaction. But then you felt him respond, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

You melted into him, the warmth of his body and the firmness of his touch causing intrinsic need to erupt at the pit of your stomach. The kiss grew messier, wetter, and uncoordinated. His hands found the crest of your breast, caressing you through your shirt with gentle yet possessive strokes. 

He broke the kiss, his breath ragged. “Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

You nodded immediately, your own breath coming in short gasps. “I do, god, yes…”

You shivered at his touch, pressing your body closer to him. You found yourself unbuttoning your dress shirt, eagerly so, making Aaron smirk as his eyes followed your clumsy movements.

Once undone, you quickly threw your shirt on the ground. A satisfied glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes before he captured your lips again. This time, more urgent. You felt his arms snaking down your body.

“Should’ve known you’re a dirty slut...” A low chuckle rambled in his throat, his lips leaving soft kisses on your jaw. “Did you wear this red lingerie all day? Were you expecting that schoolboy to fuck you tonight, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes…” You moaned.

“Yes what, slut? You’re wearing this all day or that you wanted him to fuck you tonight?” He asked mockingly. “Tell me, baby, have you ever been fucked by a real man?”

“Aaron, please—” You let out a gasp, feeling your cunt getting wetter every second you spent untouched. “The left door– need you– please—”

“How greedy.”

Effortlessly, he perched you on his muscular arms, carrying you straight to the bedroom. All while you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair, your heart pounding with lust and anticipation.

He dropped you on the bed, his eyes dark with need. He took a moment to scan you, his gaze sweeping over your body with reverence.

“Take that pants off now. I want to see everything.”

The coldness of his voice sent tingles to your wet cunt. You quickly scrambled to your knees, your trembling hands stiffly finding their way to the button of your slacks. The thin fabric slid down your legs, exposing more of your body. You feel so exposed, all for his eyes.

“Fuck...” He breathed, palming his hard cock through his pants. “I always imagined how you’d look naked. You have no idea how much restraint it took me not to touch you every time we shared a room.”

A coil in your stomach tightened as he loosened his tie, carelessly tossing it on the ground. Now he’s left with his work shirt and pants, and the contrast of your nakedness alone excites you even more.

He stepped closer to the edge of the bed, his pointer finger tilting your chin upward. Just enough for you to meet his eyes.

“Didn’t you say you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?” His lips trailed from your lips to your cheek, slowly, teasingly down to your jaw.

You whimpered. “Hmm… yeah…”

“Care to remind me what that boy did to you?” He taunted, his voice menacingly low. 

The warmth of his big, calloused hands explored the softness of your bare skin. You moaned softly, feeling his thumb and pointer finger rubbing one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

“He-” You swallowed thickly, clamping your thighs shut. “H-he cheated on me…”

Aaron hummed mockingly, tutting. “And you still want him here right now?”

“No…” You said quickly, blinking dazedly at him. “Want you, Aaron.”

“Is that how you talk to your boss, sweetheart?” He leaned backward, withdrawing his hand from touching you, one of his thick eyebrows raised in question. “For a cheating slut, I’d say you’re quite demanding.”

“Y-you, sir. Want you, please... please, fuck me, sir.”

You ignored the wetness pooling in between your thighs. His eyes were dark and piercing as he took your nakedness in, while you stared back innocently. You reached for his pants, resting your palm on his clothed pelvis.

“I’m sorry, sir,” You said in a whisper, quietly unbuckling his belt as you did so. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”

“You better keep your promise, little girl.”

You gave him a sweet smile, Aaron’s chest rose and fell with every breath. His gaze was fixed on your fingers as they fumbled on his belt. The air hummed with anticipation, mirroring the pounding of your heart against your ribs.

As the belt slid free, Aaron’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Leaning in, he inserted two of his fingers into your mouth. And you suck diligently, wetting his fingers thoroughly, staring at him all while your hands blindly unzipped his pants. After a few tries, you finally tugged down his pants and underwear, making him hiss quietly.

“Aaron...”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He rasped, frowning at you in concern. “Do you want to stop?”

“Can we… can we film this?”

He glanced at the ceiling, chuckling in disbelief. You watched how his throat bobbed with every swallow, and you squeezed your thighs for some friction. God, you’re so wet.

“And who would you show that, baby?” He asked curiously, pumping his cock in slow motion as he waited for your answer. “Eyes up here, sweetheart. Do you want to show your boyfriend how much of slut you are for an older man’s cock? Is that what you want?”

“Y-yes, sir…”

And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, naked, with Aaron’s big cock deep in your throat, staring up at his phone. Aaron was sitting on the edge of the bed, filming everything.

“What a dirty slut, you like that?” He asked hoarsely, tugging you away from his cock. You gasped loudly, feeling Aaron’s precum and your saliva dripping at the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you, sir...” you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as he slapped his veiny cock on your cheek and lip, spreading the wetness across your face.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re so cockdrunk...” He mused, laughing to himself, making sure he was capturing everything on the video. “How does it feel to cheat with your boss, sweetheart?”

“G-good…” You gulped thickly. “Should’ve d-done this soon, sir…” You mumbled in a daze, opening your mouth to take him again but he firmly tapped your cheek to stop you from doing so.

“Lay down and open those pretty legs for me.”

The room smelled like sweat and sex, wrapping you both in the heat of the moment. Soft moans and whispers filled the air, bouncing at the four corners of the room.

You closed your eyes in embarrassment and lay quietly in the middle of the bed, following Aaron’s order. In your past relationships, nothing was ever like this. It was always quick, sometimes even one-sided. You’ve never felt confident with your body, and it’s not like you had too many experiences to learn and grow your confidence from.

“I said open your legs, slut. Are you dumb?” Aaron slapped your thigh using his free hand, the one not holding the phone. “Show me how wet that pussy is.”

You shut your legs even more, shaking your head lightly.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re shy...” He tutted, feining pity. “Open those legs right now or I’m leaving. Maybe you can call your little boyfriend to take care of you.”

You quickly shook your head, a whimper caught in your throat. You open your legs a little while your hands still covered your wet, glistening cunt. Aaron frowned at the sight, obviously displeased by your slow, unsure actions.

“Don’t test me, little girl.” 

With an impatient sigh, he separated your thighs using his vacant hand. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold air hit your wetness. You watched in silence as Aaron focused his phone on your dripping cunt, running the pad of his middle finger up your clit down to your wet slit.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart. Who’s this for, hm?” He taunted, waiting for your answer.

Your toes curled in anticipation, mumbling. “Yours, sir…”

“Louder, slut. I’m trying to fucking record, remember?”

The world around you melted away as he pressed his middle finger inside your wet cunt. You felt feverish, growing even more desperate as he slowly moved his finger. Your breathing became ragged and heavy as you slowly felt the rhythm.

“Aaron… oh god…” You rasped breathlessly, both your hands reaching for his wrist as he added another finger. “That feels so g-good, sir…”

“Yeah?” He mocked, his teeth sank on his bottom lip as he watched his fingers assault your pussy through the screen of his phone. “Good girl, baby, look at you taking my fingers well.”

“I’m c-close, sir—” Your voice trembled with the intensity of your upcoming orgasm. “Sir, ple—”

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

That’s all it took for your resolution to crumble. Your orgasm racked through you with so much force, your back arching, your lips opened to a silent scream. You never came that hard before. And good God, what have you been missing all along? Aaron watched you with half-lidded eyes, his chest warm with lust and adoration.

“You’re gorgeous, baby.”

You hummed mindlessly, still coming down from your high.

“Need you now, Aaron... Please…” You croaked, throat dry. “Need your cock inside.”

“Say that to the camera, slut.”

You propped yourself a little, immediately facing the phone he was holding. “Need your big cock inside me, sir. Please, fuck me…”

The raw desperation in your voice made him smile. “Ride me then, sweetheart.”

You wasted no time and scrambled to your knees. Aaron deftly took his position and laid on his back. You licked your lips as you stared at his huge cock resting on his stomach. You just know that he’d be big… you just never thought you would see it firsthand. He’s thick and long, with veins decorating it.

Heat crept on your cheeks as you climbed on his lap and sat on his thick cock, grinding your wet pussy and moaning as you felt him pulsate beneath you. You focused your eyes on the camera that was still focused on you, your hands moving to your breasts as you continued grinding on him.

Aaron leaned forward a little and groped one of your tits, slapping it lightly with a breathy sigh.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Your blush deepened. “Condom, sir?”

“Up to you, sweetheart. I’m not active.”

“I’m on birth control…”

Smiling, you took his cock and ground the tip against your wet pussy, letting out a staggering breath as you sank in slow motion. The thickness of his big cock stretched you like never before. You’ve never taken something as big as this. You bit your lower lip as you felt the slight burn of the stretch, focusing on how Aaron’s chest rose in heavy breaths. 

“You’re so warm, baby…” Aaron moaned quietly. “Good girl. Fuck, you feel so good. Go on, sweetheart.”

It didn’t take long for your movement to become desperate. You started bouncing up and down with vigor, chasing both of your highs. Aaron’s big cock reached spots inside your body you never knew existed, his neatly trimmed pubes tickling your sensitive clit. Your moans grew louder and louder as he kept hitting the spongy spot inside you.

“Oh god, sir…” You moaned pathetically, bouncing on his cock in pure desperation. “Ruin me with your cock, Aaron… you feel so good.”

“You’re so tight and warm, sweetheart.” You frowned at him in confusion when he handed you his phone. “Continue filming while I fuck you.”

You accepted his phone and focused the camera on him. His rough hands found your hips. Without warning, he started pistoling his hips, ramming his big cock in and out of your trembling body. You felt the burn of every drag of his cock and you’re not even sure if you’re still capturing something on your video.

“I’m coming, baby…” He said breathlessly. “I’ll fill you with my cum, is that what you want?”

You helped him chase his orgasm by meeting his hard thrusts. “Yes, yes- sir, yes, fill me with your c-cum.”

“Can your boyfriend do this, sweetheart?”

“No, sir, no–” You shook your head frantically, tears stinging your eyes. “O-only you.”

“Damn right, slut. I’m the only one who can do this to you.”

You’re not sure of whatever response left your mouth. You’re a babbling, mindless mess. A cockslut who can only think of Aaron’s big dick ruining you in the nastiest way possible. You can feel your peak nearing, making you whimper in ferality.

“I’ll fill you over and over—” His thick fingers tightened around your waist, leaving red, angry marks on your wake. “Until that’s the only thing you can think about.”

A shrill scream escaped your lips on a particularly hard thrust, feeling Aaron’s big cock pulsate inside you. After a few seconds, warm ropes of cum filled your womb. You shuddered at the feeling, clamping your thighs as they trembled excruciatingly. You didn’t even notice that you already let go of Aaron’s phone, completely forgotten on the cushion.

“F-fuck… Aaron—” You moaned in relief, craning your neck to the ceiling. Flashing lights sparkled even on your closed eyes.

His wet lips trailed on your sweaty neck, his teeth sinking in, leaving fresh sets of marks. “I can be a better boyfriend than him, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

You hummed shakily but you didn’t say anything. The way you’ve gone nonverbal filled Aaron with so much pride.

His hands found your waist again, making you whine as his cock slid out of you. Effortless, he thew you back on the bed, now on all fours. The new position felt primal, and exposing. You quickly felt the tip of Aaron’s hard cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt, fucking in the trail of cum leaking out of your used pussy.

“I can do this all night, sweetheart. You won’t even think about him.”

I’d love to interact with everybody! And I sure do appreciate any thoughts or reactions. Don’t forget to drink your water and keep slaying, babes!

[mo-aiki]

The Beautiful Maiden, Who Turned into a Swan - Prologue

Summary: You were a happy princess, living in a carefree life, with your best friend in the entire world, until one day, he turned you into a swan. M. Yandere Prince x F. Reader x M. Yandere Sorcerer.

Notes: inspired by obviously, Swan Lake. And also childhood favorites, The Swan Princess and Barbie of Swan Lake.

Warning: obsessive love, erratic behavior, stalking, mentions of violence, violent behavior, I don't condone it, I just write it.

You lived your best life.

As a princess of a small, rather unknown kingdom, you were your most happiest being surrounded by those you loved.

Your father was king, your mother, although dead, had high hopes for you. Your brother was young and cheeky. Everyone respected you, calling you kind.

You woke up everyday in your bedroom, getting ready, and enjoying your days in the royal greenhouse and garden, when one day, you met a boy, around your age. You were 12 at the time you met him. "Hello, my name is (y/n). What's yours?"

He didn't talk. He looked at you like you were going to harm him, and by his body language of him scooting away from you. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you."

You gently got him to stand up, while you dusted the dirt off of his hair and clothes. "I'm (y/n). What's your name?"

The young boy mumbled. "...Roth..."

"Roth?"

The boy nodded as you smiled. "Roth. Would you play with me?"

You felt all alone when it came to the topic of playing. All your close friends were servants, who got tired once you played too hard with them. But Roth was around your age, right? So of course he would play with you!

For 5 years, you 2 were inseparable. Roth became a prodigy of a sorcerer. He was very talented. He could make bubbles into flowers, turn a toad into a beautiful swan, and was perfect in his defensive and offensive magic. So much so that if you didn't have guards around, he would assign Roth to guard you.

You spent your days, laughing and playing around with Roth, until one day, he had gotten more quiet than usual.

"Roth."

"Hm?"

"Do you think I'm pretty to you?" A question you would obviously ask your best friend in the whole wide world to.

"No, you are ugly."

You laughed. "Stop playing around. Am I really pretty?"

Roth closed his book. "Why are you asking?"

You laid your back against the blanket as you stared up at the sky. "Because father told me I am to be wed in a couple of months. After I turn 18."

Roth was a bit quieter than usual, but you didn't mind his quiet nature. You knew he at least listened. "Father said that the prince of another kingdom said I looked pretty in the portraits they sent of me. Apparently, the kingdom is run by one of father's bestet of friends..."

Roth opened his book back up. "Well then, he must have bad taste because you are ugly..."

You pouted in his face. "Goodness, don't be mean. He does not have bad taste. In fact, he's very handsome, and obviously, good-looking people must have good taste!" You laughed.

You didn't know that the comment you made would cause Roth to tightly grip his book.

On the early hours on the day of your eighteenth birthday, Your kingdom had burned to the ground. Running away throughout the chaos of the castle, you made it to the throne room, hiding behind the curtains behind your father's throne. Your father, there as well, donned in his armor. All you could smell was burnt, human ash everywhere. All you could hear was the curdling screams of people being burned alive from the many fires that donned the kingdom. All you could see was almost pitch black. Your father covered your ears as your eyes erupted in tears.

Mary, your maid who had cared for you like an older sister.

Aldus, the head butler, who was a kind old man, soon rearing the age where he would retire from his position.

Elric, the stableman who helped you ride your horse, Matilda for the first time.

Jocosa, the maid who seemed rather rude at first, but really cared for others, not wanting them to get hurt.

Emma, your tutor who was strict but kind and always loved you like a motherly figure.

And your little brother, Theo, who was so cheeky and mischievous.

All of them dead from burning from the fire. You could hear Theo's screams, calling out for you and your father, before it was too late.

Today, was meant to be a day of celebration. A day of joy. A day full of fun and splendid memories. But soon you snapped out of your daydream when both your and your father heard footsteps approaching the throne room. Stopping your tears, you held your breath. Not wanting the man who burned your kingdom to notice you or your father. "I know both of you are here."

You squeaked as lightly as possible, as your father got up. You shook your head, tears flowing out your eyes while doing so. Your father kissed your forehead as he hugged you tight. "(y/n), don't worry about me. I will be back before you know it..."

Your father walked out from behind the curtain as you could only peak through an opening. "Your Majesty."

You recognized the voice and the silhouette of the man. 'Roth?!' you thought. "Rothbart! Stop this at once!" your father had commanded.

There was only a silence between them as your father yelled once more. "STOP THIS AT ONCE ROTHBART!"

You could tell that your father was scared. His fingers looked like they were twitching, trying to unsheathed his sword from his scabbard. "I, King Fredhelm the II, will stop you from burning my kingdom down to ash!"

Your father ran with his sword, as he was burned. Before you could see it, you held your mouth shut, and closed your eyes, feeling your tear rushing out. You heard your father's screams as you shut your eyes even harder and covered your ears. The heat of the fire felt close to you, until you opened your eyes, to see ash all over the place, turning your head to see Roth take you in his hand and dragging you out of the kingdom.

You struggled at his grip, as he took you on horse and rode, far away from your home, as you watch it fall into a sea of flames, with the sounds of screaming waves, fading the further away you were.

You cried on the horse as Roth tried to soothe you. He wanted you to know why he did this.

It's because of you

Afraid of you running away he turned you into a swan against your will. "Your beautiful like a swan (y/n)...too beautiful."

The process was painful. As the sun slowly rose from the east, your skin felt like it was being forcefully shedding, like it burned and soon you turned into a swan by morning.

Roth smiled bittersweetly. "I had to do this (y/n). Your too beautiful, and as such, nobody can see you."

A swan by day, and a princess by night. Those tales only come out of legends, and soon you were a legend when men noticed you alone on the lake at night in the moonlight. They died that same night.

Roth killing them, and then hugging you, tightly.

And thus for the next 10 years, you were nothing more than a legend, and were being used by Rothbart, to fulfill his desires to be complete.

A/N: IM BACK!!! I will take a millennium to update this story due to school. Thank you!

[dixons-sunshine]

Risky Business | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: During an evening party organized by Carol, you and Daryl couldn’t help but get a little worked up, your hands constantly finding each other amongst the crowd. So you slipped off, the two of you discreetly finding your way to the bathroom to have your fun—even at the risk of getting caught.

Genre: Smut.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, porn with the tiniest bit of plot towards the end, quickie, semi public sex? (they do it in someone’s bathroom), risk of getting caught (they don’t), unprotected p in v (wrap it up, guys), creampie, aftercare because of course, mentions of pregnancy.

Word count: 1.7k.

A/N: I’m just gonna leave this here and disappear lol. I really don’t know what possessed me when I got this idea, but I hope it’s enjoyable. Also, massive thanks to @thevegandarkelf for encouraging me to write this (and for help with the summary) 💜.

Laughter and chatter could be heard from the living room. Surprisingly, everyone seemed to be enjoying the small get-together that Carol had planned. The party was in full swing, with no sign of anyone returning to their respective homes anytime soon. It was nice to have an escape from the horrors of a world run by the undead.

However, the pleasantries downstairs were only a vague remembrance in your mind. No offense to Carol’s efforts to make the party fun, but you found what you and Daryl were up to way more enjoyable.

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed against your lips, his mouth moving against yours desperately as his hands gripped at your hips. He pushed you against the sink in the bathroom, your back making contact with the cold marble.

You gently nipped at his lower lip, smiling when he groaned and pressed his body against yours, his growing erection pressing against your thigh. “This is wrong,” you mumbled against his mouth, your hands working at his belt buckle, and then at the buttons of his jeans.

“So wrong,” Daryl agreed, his chapped lips moving down your jaw, trailing hungry, open-mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck, before finally stopping to gently scrape his teeth against the pulse point beneath your ear.

You gasped, leaning your head back to allow him better access to your neck. You pushed his jeans down, just enough to reveal his hard-on that was still covered by the fabric of his boxers. “They’re waiting for us. If they come looking, they might find us like this.”

“They could,” Daryl agreed again, his own hands working to push your pants down as well. “This s’risky. We could get caught.”

Despite the both of you agreeing that what you were doing was, indeed, very risky, neither of you made any effort to stop the other. In fact, as Daryl pushed your underwear down and you stepped out of both your pants and panties, and you helped Daryl push his boxers down to bundle up with his jeans at his knees, sharing looks full of lust, you realized that you would not be able to find it in yourself to stop him.

Daryl’s mouth collided against yours again, his tongue delving deep into your mouth and groaning at the taste. He tapped the side of your leg, signalling for you to jump. You did just that, wrapping your arms around his neck. Daryl caught you, walking—albeit awkwardly, due to his jeans being bundled up by his knees—you away from the sink in favour of holding you up against the wall.

You pulled your lips from his, your mouths being connected by a string of saliva. Daryl’s usual stunning cerulean-coloured eyes were barely visible behind his blown pupils, showing just how desperate he was for you in that moment. He needed you, just like you needed him.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked through panting breaths. “We have maybe ten minutes before someone comes looking. Let’s get to it.”

“Ya sure? We dun’ gotta rush—”

“Daryl, I love you, but please hurry up.”

Daryl chuckled gruffly at your eagerness, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes, ma’am.”

You watched in anticipation as Daryl lined himself up with your entrance, your heart pounding against your ribcage. The archer kept eye contact with you the entire time, not wanting to miss even a second of the beautiful expressions that graced your features as he slowly pushed his cock into you.

The breath got knocked from your lungs as he fully bottomed out. A high-pitched moan escaped your chest at the pleasurable stretch, your nails digging into his leather-covered shoulders. Even after all that time of regularly doing the devil’s tango, you still had to take a moment to get used to the slight sting that accompanied him when he had his dick stuffed all the way inside of you.

Daryl inhaled sharply, his lust-filled eyes meeting yours. “Y’alright?” he questioned. Despite the situation, the archer was more than willing to stop everything if you wanted him to. He would never do anything like this without your go-ahead first.

You took a few seconds to adjust. Once the little bit of pain subsided, you nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Just… Please move,” you begged him, not knowing how long you would be able to be patient with him being immobile.

Daryl took a few deep breaths. “Okay.” Then, he pulled back until only his tip was inside of you, before plunging right back in.

The rhythm started off slow and steady, but Daryl quickly picked up the pace. The two of you were running against the clock. He wanted to ensure that you got off as well, and to do that, he could not waste any time.

“Daryl,” you moaned quietly, right next to his ear, which you knew would always drive him insane. It seemed to work in your favour. Daryl’s hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot. “Oh, fuck!” you gasped out in pleasure, your fingers disappearing into his hair and lightly tugging on his wavy brown roots.

Daryl groaned at the sensation. He smashed his lips against yours, both in an attempt to drown out the beautiful noises you made—which were for his ears only—and the noises you were pulling from him.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth. “You ain’t got—” Thrust. “—no idea—” Thrust. “—how fuckin’—” Another thrust. “—good ya feel.”

“Yeah?” you asked rhetorically, a whine slipping past your lips and being swallowed up by Daryl’s. Your back was moving up and down against the cold tiles of the wall with each of his thrusts.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a choked off moan. “You feel like heaven.” He carefully moved one of his arms to your front, ensuring you did not fall, before pressing his calloused thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves and moving it in time with the pace of his hips.

“Shit! Oh, shit! Daryl, fuck!” You were trying really hard to keep quiet, but Daryl was making it damn near impossible. You lowered your head and pressed your face into his shoulder, muffling your moans with the leather of his vest. You could feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten, and some far-off piece of your mind was impressed by it. Never before had you been close so fast before. Daryl truly was the best partner you ever had.

“Close.” That’s all you managed to get out. Any other words would fall short.

Daryl could feel himself getting close as well. In fact, he was tapering on the edge of bliss. He grit his teeth together and upped his game. He was determined to make you finish first. His thumb pressed against your clit the tiniest bit harder, and his thrusts became more precise, more firm, hitting that one delicious spot inside you each time.

Before you could even fully process what was happening, you could feel the knot in your stomach snap. You came undone with a shout, that was drowned out by Daryl’s mouth against yours, waves and waves of pleasure washing through your body.

The clenching of your walls around his dick sent Daryl toppling over the edge. His hips stuttered and his pace wavered immensely as he spilled his seed deep inside of you, barely registering that he had intended to pull out like he always did. He leaned his forehead against yours, sweat dribbling down his temples.

The two of you said and did nothing for a good thirty seconds. You both simply stayed there in each other’s embrace, each catching your breaths as the intensity of the moment washed away, instead being replaced by reality.

Daryl was the first to move away. He pulled his cock out of you and pulled his boxers and jeans back up, before leaning over to grab a washcloth. He wet it and crouched down, gently cleaning you of both your juices and his.

And his.

“Fuck, m’so sorry!” Daryl apologized, his eyes widening at the realization of what line he had crossed.

His apology took you off guard. “What? Why are you sorry? What’s wrong?”

Daryl looked down and continued his task of cleaning you up, his cheeks burning in embarrassment of the admission he was about to make. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t pull out.”

Oh, you thought to yourself, relieved that it wasn’t something more serious. Despite his heartfelt apology, you could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest, finding him rather adorable in that moment for reasons even you could not put names on.

Daryl frowned at that, standing up from his crouched position. “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head as you smiled at him. “Nothing.” You reached down and reached for your discarded clothes, getting re-dressed into your panties and trousers. “You don’t have to be sorry, Daryl. I’m not mad.”

Daryl visibly relaxed at that. “You ain’t?”

You shook your head and looped your arms around his neck. “Not at all. It was bound to happen eventually. Besides, “worst” case scenario is that we have a little you running around in nine months. I don’t hate the sound of that.”

Daryl felt his heart speed up. You wouldn’t mind giving him a child? Starting a family with him? That made him happier than he would like to admit.

His hands came to rest on your hips. “Pretty sure the baby ain’t gon’ be able to run when they’re jus’ born, Sweetheart. Ain’t gon’ be able to do no runnin’ in nine months.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “You know I didn’t mean it literally.”

“Yeah, I—”

“Has anyone seen Daryl?”

The sound of Rick’s voice from somewhere in the home cut the archer off. You chuckled and withdrew from his hold, instead offering your hand to him.

“Come on. They noticed you are gone. It’s only a matter of time before they realize I’m gone, too.”

“And what if they question us comin’ back to the party together?” Daryl inquired, but took your hand in his nonetheless and allowed you to lead him from the bathroom.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

Daryl huffed a small laugh. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

“I am choosing to see that as a compliment.”

[solar-wing]

⚣ Holidays with the Waynes 🦃

⚣🦃 A/N → This idea came randomly, conveniently after Thanksgiving. To everyone that celebrates, Happy Turkey Day (he said about two weeks late) and Indigenous People's Remembrance Day. Also, everyone congratulate me. I finally made a fic under 1000 words. I almost made it longer to but stopped myself. This is why it takes so long to get posts out of me. Just when I think I'm done, I add more. WARNINGS: none. just typical Wayne chaoticness

⚣🦃 Summary → His life is like a reality show and every day is a new episode, with the holidays being their own specials. So, when a classmate asks him how his Thanksgiving was, how does the youngest Wayne son even come up with a response?

⚣🦃 Words �� 622

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🦃

“So, Y/N, how was your Thanksgiving?”

What a loaded question.

*cue the flashback ripples*

“Damian, why is the turkey in my bedroom?” The youngest Wayne asked after entering the kitchen and finding his half-brother sitting at the island.

“Master Y/N, if you’re going to be eating in your room, I do ask you put a cover over your sheets to avoid crumbs and stains, please,” Alfred said while seasoning one of the various dishes for their dinner.

“Oh, Alfred, it’s not like that. It’s–” Y/N tried to explain before stopping himself after Damian sent him a glare, warning him not to utter another word or else, “It’s just that I sometimes get after-dinner cravings and don’t feel like making the trip to the kitchen. Won’t happen again, though.”

Alfred gave him a suspicious look after glancing at Damian who was avoiding his gaze, before nodding his head and continuing his food preparations. The two brothers both looked at each other before the youngest nodded his head towards the door, making his way out of the kitchen while trying not to act even more suspicious knowing the butler was watching his every move.

Damian quickly moved in tow behind his brother, following him to one of the sitting rooms. A cautious measure to ensure they were out of earshot.

“Next time, scan the room before you start blabbing off as you usually do,” Damian said, his usual annoyed and slightly threatening squint in his eyebrows.

“I do not blab, thank you very much,” Y/N said, his hands on his hips and breath huffing out, showing his clear offense to his brother’s statement.

“History would beg to differ.”

Y/N scoffed with an eye roll, “Whatever. Why is the school’s Thanksgiving turkey mascot currently nesting in my room?”

“I overheard one of the faculty members talking about how good the animal was going to taste on their plates come Thanksgiving dinner, and I refused to let an innocent animal be subjected to such brutality.”

“Okay, but you can’t just kidnap the turkey, Damian! Let alone hide it in my room!”

“First, his name is Tiny. Please, give him the respect of using his name. Second, he’s happier and more relaxed in your room. I think he enjoys your color scheme.” Damian said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“I–... Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I were a Kardashian.”

“Less authentic and more plastic. Also, you know how Father feels about that family, especially the mother. And, how would you feel if someone tried to chop off your head and limbs so you could be put on a platter that serves 6-10?” The Boy Wonder questioned, mirroring his brother’s body language with his hands on his hips.

“Damian, you literally chased me around the house with your sword last Tuesday.”

“I thought we were playing tag.”

“Who plays tag with a sword?!”

“People who don’t want to get tagged.”

“I–... No words. None whatsoever.”

“Does this mean you’ll let Tiny room with you tonight?”

“Fine.”

For the rest of that Thanksgiving break, Y/N spent it with a roommate who would wake him up at the ass crack of dawn with a series of short, noisy clucks. The youngest Wayne had to explain to his father that he was listening to a new LO-FI relaxing tracks of bird sounds to help him relax.

He received many strange looks from his various family members.

“Oh, just the usual stuff. Holidays with my family are pretty lame. Anyway, what about your family?” Y/N answered, lying straight through his two front teeth.

Holidays with his family were never lame, but also never normal.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️| Masterlists | ☀️

[prettygrltatum]

Food For Thought!

T141 x Southern!reader

+ Simon "Ghost" Riley x Southern!reader

Tags: fem!reader! plantonic with the rest of the crew but you and Simon have a little something something yk?, canon typcial crusing, fluff, the boys just being silly, american and british bickering

a/n: so remember that little brain fart I had? so this is what happens when your bored with nothing to do <<33 I know that this won't do many southerns justice, we're all different from different cities to towns but I just wanted to share this with yall :)) also please tell me where yall from! I really want to know! Enjoy!

"What the hell is this (reader).." Price mumbled under his breath. He cranked his neck back as he looked at you with disgust. You rolled your eyes as you set the plate of fried chicken, string beans, and a nice, thick, creamy and chewy mac-n-cheese. "Okay, I'll go get the sweet tea. Do not and I mean do not touch anything!" You warned, leaving the dineing room to the kitchen. Soap came in as Ghost followed. "Aye. The hell is that?" Soap asked, sniffing the air to the unfamillar smell.

Price hunched his shoulder, and turned to the kitchen as you digged into the fridge trying to find the homemade sweet tea you made this morning. "I don't know, she made this mess. It looks greasy." He huffed. "I heard that! You haven't taste it yet!" You came back with a huge jug of sweet tea, the men looking at you with bewilderment. Gaz, running late had came into the dining room, his cheeky smile fading once the scent of southern food hit his nose.

"What's that?" He looked over to the abunces of food. He smiled as he turned to you and helped you with the jug of tea. "Thank you Gaz, anyways. I know you brits-"

"I'm not British." Soap shouted with offense. You all looked at him and then turning the attention back to you. "Anyways! This here? This here is the shit. Your taste buds will never feel the same after you eat these homemade classics of the south!" You squeaked. The men looked over at thefoood, the grease and butter glowing in the light. The men sruvnhed their noses as they groaned in disgusted.

Your feelings where slightly hurt, but as a proud (southern state) native, you must bring them the food from the home of the free. Eitehr way, any food you cook could explode their brains. "Think we should try it L.T?" Soap asked looking up at him. Simon had a bit of a soft spot for you. He loved your american accent, the way you had some much pride and respectful for yourself. He thought it was attractive. Might I say sexy? He was head over heels fpr you and wanted you to like him as much as possible. And if that means to eat your seemingly gross and fatty american food, then so be it.

"Wouldn't hurt to try." He simply said. "Really? Don't wanna be fat like them americans!" Soap joked. You reached over and punched his shoulder as he laughed. "Oh please! Half the people in this country needs a nice oral cleansing..”

Soap rolled his eyes and ignored your jab at him and moved on. “I think we should try it. Don’t seem so bad.” Ghost mumbled as he sat down next to you, his arm resting on your chair. “Really?” Gaz sighed.

“Yeah. Don’t seem so bad. Just Mac-n-Cheese.” He huffed at Gaz with a slight scorn to his tone. “Whateva you say I guess..” Soap sighed as he sat himself down at the food. “I want to try the tea first.” Simon said as he pointed to the tea jug. “Sure!” You stood up and pour each and everyone of you a cup of homemade natural born tea.

“Alright! Drink up!” You cheered. Price, oddity sniffed it and pushed the drink away. “No.” Ghost lifted his mask up, and took a sip before hacking and lammend the glass on the table. “AUGH! AUHN! WHAT THE FUCK?!” He screamed as you laughed at his intolerance to the sweetness of the tea.

Gaz just smacked his lips and pushed the cup away from him as well. “Too sweet, urgh!” He groaned as he smacked his lips and slapped his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Meanwhile Soap was still taking sip after sip of his drink, almost gone at this point. “Seems like you liked it Soap!” You giggled.

“I just like sweet stuff alright?” He chuffed as he sucked the life out of the cup. “I win!” Soap scoffed as he snatched Price’s cup of tea from him. Price didn’t seem to mind anyways. “You’re not gonna try Cap’?” He shook his head no, “I need to watch my blood sugar nowadays.” You chuckled at his words. Such an old man thing to say. Or someone who has diabetes. Either way it’s kinda funny. Not really.

“Okay try the Mac-n-Cheese now!!”

(Should I add onto this?)

[tyrantisterror]

Wherefore Art Thou Clownfucker?

A while back I made a post explaining why vampires appeal to me, and while it was mostly in a more general sense, there was a specific focus on why I find them, you know, hot. And it was that was in part because I had recently discovered that I'm apparently surrounded by Werewolf fuckers on here, much to my dismay as a Vampire fucker. It's like being the only goth kid at a rockabilly concert or something. I felt defensive, is the point! I needed to go to bat (heh) for my pale ladies (and Astarion.... and Spike)!

And now, because Muncher compels me to do so, I'm doing the same for Clowns. My other pale ladies.

Now, keep in mind the fact that I'm a monsterfucker first and foremost, and that my clownfuckery is really more derived from my monsterfuckery. I imagine the middle section of the Clownfucker/Monsterfucker diagram is pretty big, but I also know there are some clownfuckers who are very much NOT monsterfuckers, and vice versa. This is not the case for vampirefuckers, who are nestled firmly within the monsterfucker circle, because while all vampires are monsters, not all clowns are monsters. I bring this up because while I'm gonna try to explain clownfuckery on its own terms, there is likely going to be some monsterfucker bias in my explanations and defense. That's just how it is on this bitch of an earth!

I'm gonna get real pretentious here and talk about the historic role of clowns for a moment. From Comedia del Arte harlequins to medieval court Jesters, the clown's role has always been that of Comic Relief. They are, simply put, here to be tonally dissonant - when everyone else is serious and dramatic, a clown comes in as this weird, silly, incongruously hilarious element that contrasts the gravity of everything around them. "Relief" is really the key word here - a clown's job is to provide levity when otherwise there would be none. When everything is dark, they provide a little light.

That's the core emotional appeal of clownfucking - a clown is/should be someone who can make you smile when you need it the most. Kingdom's at war, family's fighting, your life's in shambles? The clown will make you laugh. Everything feels dark and gloomy and depressing? Here comes a silly little goofball wearing bright, clashing colors and jingling with each step because they're covered in bells, and all they want to do is tell jokes until you start laughing. Clowns are, by intent, that sweet sweet hit of dopamine personified.

Clowns are here to make you smile.

Another important historical detail about clowns is their unique place in the hierarchy of society - namely, being entirely outside of it. A jester was in some respects the lowest person on the totem pole, a fool that had power over no one and nothing, living to be laughed at. Yet, because they had no power over anyone, it was generally poor taste to take offense to anything a jester said, which meant they could talk more freely than anyone else - when everyone else acts like a butt-kissing sycophant, a jester is free to talk shit and speak their mind.

The traditional attire and appearance of clowns plays into both of these traits: the bright, gaudy clothing and makeup is silly, yes, but it's also a sign that the clown does not give a single shit about fashion and other social norms. A clown is, by nature, an anomaly, a misfit, a rebel.

Nowadays we have another word for people with that attitude. Clowns are punk.

Weird makeup, crayola red hair, patchwork clothes...

I would say the very fact that "normal" people look at clownfucking as some sort of inexplicable fetish is, in fact, part of the appeal. It's a form of xenophilia, of attraction to things that are different and othered, a love for outsiders and misfits and oddballs. To fuck a clown is to show love and adoration for something outside of the realm of what is socially acceptable - something silly, goofy, and weird, yet also often harmless. After all, a clown's main purpose is to make you smile.

That's not to say that clowns have to be harmless to be attractive, mind you. Tons of people, many much smarter than I, have talked about the cultural shift of our perception of clowns that began somewhere in the 1980's. Clowns went from being viewed as genuinely fun and cute to primarily being figures of fear and terror - if a clown shows up in modern media, even if it's innocuous, there will always be at least one character who vocally talks about how creepy they think clowns are.

That may in part be due to the fact that clowns have such a benign mission statement - a lot of people, especially nowadays, do not trust a person who claims they just want to make others happy. Anyone who acts like that MUST be up to something - there must be something nefarious going on, some evil plan, some lurking danger.

Which is where you REALLY bring the monsterfuckers in.

You really don't need to do that much with a clown's design to push it firmly into monster territory - "a pale person with sharp teeth" is the bare minimum it takes to make a vampire, after all (and even the pale part can be downplayed).

And a clown's dedication to making things "funny" can make for a very enjoyably-scary persona for a monster - hell, half the appeal of the Addams Family is that they're a bunch of freakish inhuman monsters who react to a bunch of scary shit with absolute delight and adoration. Again, the tonal dissonance element is at play here, albeit in a different way - even when Clowns are the darkness in your world, they still bring light in the sense that they view it that darkness as funny in of itself.

(hell, the word "harlequin" means "five horns," and may be rooted in folkloric monsters like Herne the Hunter depending on who you ask, so in a way clowns have always been monster-coded)

I think all of this is pretty well exemplified in the current Patron Saint of Clownfuckers, the goddess of Clownfuckery if you will, Harley Quinn. Hailing from a story whose main setting is such a Gothic Horror-inspired nightmarish shithole of a city that it's literally called Gotham, surrounded by characters who are at least 60% gothic horror archetypes by volume, opposed by a hero who literally dresses like a Dracula, it is inarguable that Harley Quinn is surrounded by darkness that's both literal and figurative.

But she's always smiling, and not in an ironic way.

Harley Quinn suffers intense abuse, she's drawn into wicked schemes, and in the way of most modern clowns, she causes no small amount of mayhem and suffering herself. But even at her darkest, she's always smiling, always trying to find the bright side.

She's a rebel, she's a punk. Almost everyone thinks she's beneath them. Almost all of those people get proven they're wrong. In a world full of tyrannical hierarchies, she steps outside of them.

She's an outsider, a misfit, an oddball. And she wants to make you smile.

I think you can probably see the appeal of that.

[yanderambling]

OMG IM SO GLAD YOUR DOING THESSE!!!!! Can I please please get Aschanti (submissive royal) with F I M and S??❤️❤️Thank you so much for writing!!!

yandere alphabet ~ Aschanti

(submissive monarch!yan x pining knight!reader)

full alphabet here <3

Fight [How would they feel if their darling fought back?]:

Aschanti would immediately cave to any resistance you showed them, unless they felt they were at some risk of losing you completely. In the event that they were forced to keep you against your will, Aschanti would never raise a hand back to you in violence- they probably wouldn’t even try to defend themself. Even if you hit, kicked, and spat insults at them, Aschanti is certain that you’ll come to understand in time, and so they will meet all of your offenses with nothing but gentle placations and a patient smile. They would keep you away from any deadly weapons out of necessity, and if you proved persistent then they would reluctantly promote a temporary personal guard, just to keep them alive long enough for you to realize how you really feel for them. It would break their heart to see you so upset, but Aschanti would gladly let you take out your frustration on them as much as you needed.

Ideals [What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?]:

Aschanti rarely lets themself dream that far into the future, so certain are they that you could never return their affections the same way. But, when they allow their mind to wander, Aschanti fantasizes about leaving it all behind with you, just abandoning the courts and royal obligations and taking to the country with just your hand in theirs. They find guilty pleasure in the thought of becoming your housewife, taking care of you and your shared home by serving you, and letting you care for them in turn by telling them what to do, how to be. Maybe, one day, Aschanti could cook your meals (and pretend they’re your live-in servant), do you laundry (and get to sniff and taste your clothes whenever they want), and even help you wash your magnificent body (need they go on?)<3

Mask [Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?]:

Aschanti wears a couple of masks, even around you. In public, they are remarkably composed and confident, they are widely renowned for their poise and natural leadership. But, when it’s just them and you, they find it harder to keep their cool, they become notably more uncertain and deferential, more open about looking to you for direction- but they still try to maintain a regal air about them so as to not lose your respect. On their own, however, Aschanti is nearly unrecognizable from the esteemed ruler known throughout the land. They spend most of their alone time thinking about you, taking stock of their collection of your things, touching themself to the scent of you lingering on the clothes they practically smother themself with- they’re really just a needy mess when there’s nobody around to impress, and they feel no small amount of shame from their desire to show themself to you like this and let you do as you like with them…

Stigma [What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?]:

Aschanti has always felt they were forced to take positions of authority because of their royal status, but they’d always really wanted to just let go and leave the control to someone else; you’re the first person they ever felt safe enough to even entertain the idea with. Before you, they never let themself dream of giving up their control as they so deeply wished, but once they’d been in your capable hands it became impossible to stop. Really, you’re the reason they’re like this, so obsessed with retaining the stability and comfort you provide them. You just make them feel so safe and secure, so wholly taken care of- it’s a feeling they’ve always craved, and you’re the only thing in the world that has ever sated them~

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

[sleepingelvhen]

Red Wine [Pt. 1] SFW 🍷

Baldur's Gate III

Enver Gortash/Reader SFW

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Masterlist

NOTE: Apologies for disappearing. I've been very busy lately and so fanfictions will be rather slow for a while. Hopefully, this will simply be proof that I am working on projects and improving my writing as often as I can. Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy. 🌹

‘Meet me in my room’ was the message he had sent you. Just a simple prod into your mind from the connection between your tadpoles, a short and straight-to-the-point request, yet one that left you more excited than you realized you could be towards him.

It isn’t like you don’t like him. He’s handsome and charming, despite the slight bit of derangement, but beyond all that he is crafty and talented. That’s what you like about Enver Gortash, his passion toward his crafts and his abilities.

You meet him in his quarters later that evening after freshening up, only donning some light clothes for sleeping. And as expected, he was waiting for you, sitting at his desk with a feathered quill in his hand writing whatever it was he wrote in the middle of the night. Probably some new concepts for more iron-kind, or maybe his own secret fanfiction about him being the ultimate ruler of Faerun with everyone bowing before him and kissing his feet.

 Now that would be something to discover about him. The big scary tyrant of Baldur’s Gate writing little stories about being a big scary tyrant of the world. Just the thought made a little chuckle rise up your throat, the sound being enough to make Gortash lift his head and turn to look at you over his shoulder.

“Ah, you’re here. Good.” He pushes his chair back, making certain to flip over his papers. Maybe he was writing something embarrassing to be so meticulous in hiding it.

“I couldn’t ignore an order from the Lord Gortash himself, could I?” You speak with a lilt to your voice, always enjoying the little back and forth of faux respect that the two of you have; titles and formalities used to mock rather than to give either an advantage in conversation and status.

“I suppose not if we are putting titles into consideration. But this was a personal request, meaning you were, indeed, free to ignore my invitation.”

“Truly? I guess I’ll be leaving then.”

“Go right ahead.” You can hear the offense in his voice, the way his words sound almost clipped, the way he punctuates them with a click of his tongue. 

“You want me to leave then?”

“No, I don’t.” 

You smiled at that, your own guard melting in his honest gaze. Perhaps now was not the right time for teasing.

“I don’t want to leave, either.” You admit, looking into his eyes for more signs that this was fine, that you weren’t making a glaring mistake in letting down your guard. His shoulders seem to relax, that easy smile of his stretching into something you swear is genuine.

“Here, I have some wine.” Gortash strides over to his wall of bookshelves; bookshelves that hold everything aside from books. There are vials of liquids and other substances, journals, multiple kinds of writing instruments, cups stained with what looks like paint, and multiple kinds of wines. The books lie on the floor, on his desk, and sit in stacks on his bedside table; everywhere but the bookshelves. 

He grasps for a fancy-looking bottle, and finds two clean wine glasses amongst the mess, pouring a deep red into each before handing one to you.

“Sourced from the Underdark, if you can imagine. It’s rare and quite expensive.”

The wine smells sweet and bitter at the same time – common for most reds – but with an undertone of something woodsy or maybe even salty. The taste is strong, the flavor a burst of fruit and mushroom; a bitter bite of cranberry and pepper. 

“That’s…different.” Is all you can manage to say, the flavor sitting upon your tongue for but a moment before vanishing as if it were never there.

“I never said it would be good.” 

“I never said it was bad.”

“Is it good, then?” He asks the question with a raise of his brow, taking a moment to sniff the wine’s deceptive aroma. You mimic his action, pretending to really think about the question before answering.

“I’m not sure, I can’t remember..”

“And that’s what makes this wine so exquisite,” he begins, taking a long sip and scowling a split second before his expression relaxes. “The flavor goes away so fast, you forget the taste, then drink again and again until you are so drunk you can’t remember if it was good or bad, only that it’s addicting and you absolutely need more.”

“Ah, so it’s more like a drug then?”

“I suppose you could say that, yes.”

You swirl the wine in the glass, noting the unique color of it, how it almost seems to reflect back a perfect image of yourself, before continuing.

“Is that your plan then? To get me drunk and have some fun with me?”

Gortash sputters into his glass, wine splashing over his face and clothes. He coughs a moment, setting down the drink while trying to pat the wine from his face and where it clung to the hairs on his chest.

“Why–why would you assume that?”

“Maybe because you invited me here and gave me a wine that supposedly gets you drunk super quickly? What else am I supposed to think?”

“My dear,” he laughs at the absurdity of your comment. “I don’t need to get you drunk to bed you. The wine was simply to relax the tensions between us.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask with a straight face, eyes intense in their gaze. Gortash falters a moment.

“What?”

“You said you didn’t need to get me drunk to bed me. You really think I’d just jump into bed with you?”

“My dear-”

“I’m not so easily swayed, Enver. I don’t just sleep with anyone who gives me wine.”

“That’s not–”

“You are a damned fool if you really think I’d just–”

“Would you let me speak before jumping to such obscene conclusions!?”

His shout echoes within the room, nearly rattling the glasses upon his shelves and causing you to shut your mouth. Gortash takes a deep breath, whispering something to himself before making his way back to his desk and picking up the paper from before.

“The comment wasn’t aimed as an insult.”

“Well, that’s how it sounded.”

He shoots an irritated glare your way before handing the paper to you with a frown.

“Read this.” He says, eyes flickering between your gaze and the wall.

Hesitantly, you take the thin paper into your hands, setting your drink to the side.

1492 DR – Entry 55 – Personal Note

Much has happened in this recent year. My command over Baldur’s Gate has, of course, gone as smoothly as ever, especially with the help of these little parasites within my brain. The others seem dedicated the this ‘Absolute’s’ will, but I am not so thoroughly convinced. The powers, of course, are nice and welcomed even, but following another is just accepting a chain around my throat for them to pull when I inevitably step out of line. 

The surprise as of recent has been the travelers who have recently arrived and have been causing trouble within the master plan. Specifically their leader. They seem kind but are reasonably cautious. Intelligent. Masterful. Skillful. Beautiful.

I have found myself unable to express disdain towards them and that concerns me. Normally a kindness as theirs would be seen as a weakness. But they show ruthlessness in their actions despite our opposing views. And all I seem to desire is them. I can’t think of anything else. It plagues me, haunts me – their face, their body, their voice….

Your eyes widen as you read the missive. What he had been writing before wasn’t plans or a story like you thought, but a diary entry. Funny thought, that Enver Gortash keeps a diary, but not unusual; most people do. But these words, this confession. Gortash’s face is red when you look back up at him.

“The comment was not meant to offend.” He says again.

“You were trying to flirt with me?” You ask and his nod is both pathetic and endearing. This man, someone who rules and controls Baldur’s Gate, was stumbling over himself trying to show affection to the one person he definitely shouldn’t be having these feelings for. 

And through the obscenity of it all, the reality of such strange times, you can’t help but start laughing. The laughter bubbles up all of a sudden, a surprise to your chest and your voice, your lips pulled taught into a smile impossible to contain. The paper falls from your hands as you cover your mouth and when Gortash’s brows knit together in offense and confusion, you stumble forward, grab the stained lapels of his fancy jacket, and pull him into a kiss full of fitful giggles.

[dirgeforworms]

OK SO kink event overall

The Ick:

Get kinkshamed within the first fifteen minutes by someone who was apparently deeply uncool with "that tactical shit" which they "guess some people are into." (Me, my voice high with offense and injury "YES. ME?") It's been a few weeks and yeah I'm still really upset by this? It sucked? It was mean. I have never been more aware that my tastes are niche until that very moment. tumblr, Twitter, thank you for not giving a fuck about military gear kink. Apparently this person were giving everyone a hard time that wasn't dressed in all-black "classic" BDSM fetish wear, which makes me feel a little better that it just wasn't me being targeted. Like, yes there was a dress code. The dress code said no jeans, I respect this. But the dress code also said uniforms were acceptable kinks wear and what is my fucking shit if not a uniform. What is my fucking shit if not elaborate genderfuckery. Like ok I don't know if you know this but I am not a military boy in real life. This is a kink thing.

Anyway ultimately I took off my pants (this was acceptable) and was roaming around in my jock strap so that was a thing. Ass out and packing all night and it was good.

The cops were out at the very end of the night and I had to put my pants back on, which was definitely some like, unprecedented levels of irony after needing to remove them to get in.

Everyone was kind of already paired up so there was really no pickup play. Someone else had waited in line for a few hours for something and ended up giving up. I was there just to watch so it wasn't a huge deal but it was definitely an issues for others.

It was sort of narrow "classic" BDSM stuff. I went with Pervert Chat (we will be using their scenes names, Bishop and Llewyn) and Bishop was vaguely disappointed by the lack of variety? Granted, all three of us are primarily online perverts so there's that.

SOMEONE BLED BLOOD AND WE MISSED IT.

The Yum:

Listening to someone get hit repeatedly is like, really soothing. Like you don't know how mesmerizing the sound of asscheeks being repeatedly slapped is until you just zone out watching someone get hit. It's great.

The classes were fucking awesome. I learned how to tie the world's most basic shibari on myself and it hit the same buttons as wearing a harness does so that was nice. I bought rope.

There were One Million attractive people there in various states of undress like wow I don't know about you but wow.

I ended up waiting in line to do some estim stuff and. Uh. Was glad my friend weren't there at that time because I was feeling some. Feelings. About being shocked. There was back arching involved and I think I said "holy shit" in a weird voice and I couldn't walk right afterwards. It was ultimately good and I'm glad I did it but hm. Hm hm. It sure was Sensation alright.

I had so many marks after being zapped (tools- dull knife, cattle prod, strings of beads ("jellyfish stings" via the person shocking me), and like a metal tinsel pompom thing) and it was nice to look at them for days but also the knife ones scabbed and got itchy, which was an unforseen but totally logical problem.

I met a nice pup who's staying in touch we chatted in line and held hands as emotional support during the estim since neither of us had done it before.

Me, sappily to a handsome cowboy drag king covered in butter who just sang a song about corn: "You were really cool <3" The Drag King: "Oh thanks!"

I need to meet up with the pup again but work is a fucking nightmare and I'm suffering from what I think is an eczema flareup so I'm mostly stressed and miserable rn and going out with a new person feels... Like something I don't want to do. But I should plan it at least.

Overall it was worth it I just wish that person wouldn't have immediately made me feel like a fucking interloper, especially since everyone else was really nice. I got to hang out with Llewyn and Bishop all day though. Bishop went home early bc he doesn't stay up past 9pm but Llewyn (who was really not interested in any of the kink his tastes are very narrow) was a great driver and was very patient when I stumbled off to the cuddle room with that pup and vanished for an hour. The cuddling was also really good. Turns out when someone kind of gently headlocks you into their chest it feels really nice.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Now, being eternally curious, I just have to ask: what DO other monsters think is under my hood? -The River Person

Undertale Sans - He tried all his teenage years to pull the hood to see what's under, but it's like River Person always knows what he's doing. Sans thinks they're just a random eye, seeing everything. Not the weirdest thing he has seen though.

Undertale Papyrus - If Papyrus insists so much on doing all his trips on foot, it's because Sans once said to his five-years-old self that a terrible carnivore monster was hiding under that hood and was eating children who don't do their homework when they're alone. He didn't believe it, of course! But just to be sure, he decided to not take the ferry anymore. Like never. He doesn't want to know.

Undertale Toriel - She assumed over time it's just a very shy monster and respects that. Sure, they are odd and their predictions creep her out, but that would be just rude to ask what's under the hood.

Undertale Asgore - He's pretty sure that monster has been there since the war, so maybe a hiding boss monster who ignores themselves? He tried to get them to live in a house like everyone, but it never worked? Asgore decided not to question it anymore as time passed.

Undertale Undyne - She thinks it's some elaborated robot honestly. No one would do their job 24 hours a day without complaining once or... You know, leaving their boat. She tried several times to see what was under, but like Sans, she never had any chance. She wants to know so bad.

Undertale Alphys - Obviously, some villain stuck in the boat by a spell to prevent him from ever hurting anyone. It's like their redemption arc or something. Or maybe she's just watching a little too much anime, who knows.

Undertale Frisk - They always assumed it was Gaster, but then Gaster showed up and ruined their theory. So then they assumed it was Papyrus hiding because they're the same height, but one day Papyrus showed up to stop them from going on the ferry, so it's not that either. Frisk is still investigating.

Undertale Chara - They're corporeal for sure because Chara punched their guts once after they said they were going to die and that hurt them. Well, they died shortly after so that river person guy was right, but still. Chara hates their guts and doesn't want to know what's hiding there.

Undertale Mettaton - Like Alphys, he always assumed it was a robot created to lead him where he has to go, before realizing everyone can use it. Well, that sucks. He wrote an offensive movie about the river person just because he was angry. In it, he said River Person is a very mysterious charismatic robot that somehow looks exactly like him. Then the robot turns out to be a master ninja in disguise for some reason. Not all movies can be good.

Undertale Gaster - He always assumed the hood was the monster and that there was nothing under it. I mean, there are rock monsters, blanket monsters, and even mouth monsters, why not hood monsters?

Undertale Grillby - He thinks that's an elemental monster of darkness. That would explain why they're here for so long and why they're looking invisible. It's just odd he doesn't feel it as he's supposed to being an elemental monster himself.

Undertale Muffet - Clearly not enough money for her own taste.

Undertale Burgerpants - He thinks the monster is the boat, since it seems alive, and that River Person is just some disguise because the boat monster thinks it's weird just being a boat for a living. He understands. Everyone calls him the burger guy :(

Undertale Flowey - He doesn't know but he never could kill the guy, so he assumed it's a ghost? Maybe the first River Person died and their spirit has been haunting the boat since? He wishes he could destroy them to dissect them.

Undertale Gerson - He thinks that's a random guy working the day and sleepwalking the night, and that's why they're in their boat all day and night. And somehow as old as Asgore for some reason. Maybe some exiled member of the royal family they punished this way.

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e5 rewatch notes

Ah, "Pop" - it's so weird to have one of the least-satisfying episodes of television you've ever watched be sandwiched in the middle of one of the most satisfying television series you've ever seen.

"But the viewer uneasiness, the juxtaposition, that's the point of the episode!" cry future Storer/Calo** in unison, tearing at their shirt collars and throwing themselves prostrate in the middle of their 7th podcast interview moderated entirely by men "in the spirit of John Hughes, we wanted to convey....."

** For the record, I respect/love them for creating my 2nd favorite TV show of all time, they just grind my gears with the offensive stance on these narrative choices that were, in fact, very bad.

It was an over-reach, an unenjoyable viewing experience for most people outside a specific segment of uncritical (mostly white) men and the women who placate them.

Alright, preamble over - let's dig in!

We open with Tina getting a crash-course in Syd's vision. I bet this woman has never been exposed to breaking food down in the abstract - "earth, air, fire, water" , nor the overwhelming prep of the daikon and the fennel - but her just being like "this is a lot for a tasting menu" and then reassuring her with "it's okay ma, I got you!" - she has my full heart.

Tina's intuition on the food is good, though - it is, in fact, too busy. Sydney is still learning how to be a mentor, and she negates that Tina's background isn't automatically going to make her know what a play on an XO sauce is, or even how to identify a panzanella.

Remember Carmy explaining Japanese plum wine to Marcus? That's how you do it. Sydney still has a learning curve to go through, but Tina will weather it gangbusters.

Sydney - "It's a lot, it's a lot...I'm seeing that its a lot"

I see that iterative recipe development between Carmy + Syd fell into oblivion three weeks earlier when he blew her off, and she's suffering greatly.

Carmy is trying to get the 7 seconds down to 5 between stations when Cicero comes in, and Cicero sees it as a fruitless exercise after Natalie points out that he's been at it for over an hour. I can almost see the flash in Carmy's eyes where we're back 5 years ago, his family seeing him and his work as weird and irrelevant. This was probably the first blow of the day that led him to flake out completely.

I'm including all of Cicero's dialogue here, because I didn't realize it was so weighted on my first pass through the show:

"I'm a little concerned that we're taking our eyes off the ball here, and I want to be hyper-clear - if I ain't seeing no progress, I don't want to keep pissing money away. I'm calling this out now, because we are - How far from open, Sug? - Six weeks! And I somehow anticipate that the coming six weeks, there will be more pissin'.

The thing is, I like to control the pissing to the best of my ability....your schedule is kinked. You're doing whatever the fuck you're doing here. Thundernuts is out there making sandwiches for his entire family? I mean, look, as much as I look forward to selling this place - and trust me, I do look forward to it - I think it's just in all of our best interests if we have a maximally efficient place of business. I really would like to tell you a story of complete and utter failure...."

Syd interrupts.

Holy shit - this is the second time he's tried to tell his Gonzalez/Bartman story. I can't believe I missed this, TWICE (s2e1).

Instead, he tells it to Carmy on opening night - and I think by then Cicero has seen the writing on the wall and knows that Carmy is the only person who really needs to hear it - this is a big CP.

The scenes that follow just reinforce Ciceros current narrative - it's too casual for essentially being a House of Usher - everyone is interrupting, Fak's pal/contractor wandering in eating a sandwich the electrician made him, the drywall falling, Timmy's "no worries, it's still billable hours" crack. Mobster uncle or not, the man has already spent $550k just to witness this.

Tina telling Ebra that it's weird she hasn't spoken to him in a few days, and can't recount the last time that happened - it's amazing that with all the talk of platonic relationships this season, no one is pulling this one out of their hats in comparison *smirks*

But again (like Sugar faux-charming Cicero moments earlier). women be managing men's emotions along with their own lengthy lists of challenges, as the men retreat wounded and overwhelmed.

Cut to Syd perfectly laying out dining wares for Carmy while Fak blathers about 'Can't Hardly Wait' being "the greatest High School Song ever written" while his contractor friend sits idle....

"That's $55 a plate for that silence" - "Okay, then we can use the shitty ones" - Carmy is being so frigging childish and dismissive, right after he called Sugar "fucking disgusting" for being cutesy with Cicero to de-escalate him, but both women are doing what needs to be done - not what they WANT to be doing.

This is when Carmy completely checks out to call Claire for the ridiculous errand run to Winnetka. In my memory, I felt like "oh, he wanted to see her and he took the first opening to bail", but watching this episode now, he feels defeated and infantalized, and so he runs to a guaranteed source of flattery/unchallenging comfort. I don't think it was initially his M.O for the workday, just "later".

He exits with "Um....chaos menu. I dunno? I'll get back to you?" after we already watched Syd suffer on it until the wee hours - he's off to provide himself with amusement and enjoyment, so he can take care of Syd others- he just wants to give the menu to her straight-up (as he thinks this will please her), and this is his way of apologizing for bailing.

The same goes for his non-thank-you to Natalie as he's leaving. "You're not doing this because I'm pregnant, are you?" - No, he's doing it to provide himself with amusement or enjoyment so he can be better for you - enjoy working the entire day at the restaurant pregnant, though! If it makes you feel better, he appreciates you.

"Total Control" by Motels is playing as Carmy and Claire drive to the suburbs - I included the link to the lyrics, because it was an....interesting choice.

I really tried to analyze their conversation during their first foray into the car, but my raw scribbled notes look like this:

"It's perfect timing, I had all this extra adrenaline after resetting this guys Tibia" - screaming

"Whoa" (but not really impressed/getting it) "Does that shit really fire you up?" - oh my god

"It really fucking fires me up. Plus, I love driving. I'm a horrible driver, but I love the risk." - oh my fucking god

I can't do it. I'm sorry.

I'll only note that the chemistry during the envelope drop is non-existent. I think it was supposed to be scripted as a funny/awkward scene, but it just came off as two actors standing in a mail room - before this moment, I never perceived JAW as a guy who's just acting in this show, and it's jarring.

Why the hell didn't FX exert more pressure to get the chemistry read they asked for?

Sydney and Natalie's sit-down is just them acknowledging that they're managing the feelings and work of all the men that orbit The Bear, on top of the extensive labor demands they already have. Richie's interjections due to lack of purpose, Fak's inexperience with managing contractors, Carmy being checked-out and incapable of participating in things that don't rely on his existing ADHD skill-set.

One of these women is a bit green and needs support, the other is pregnant and overwhelmed, and all the men are mad or threatened by them for one trite reason or another - if season 3 isn't an overt celebration of female competence and resilince, I'm out.

"The menu is fucked - and I need Carmy, but he is....being Carmy, somewhere."

"At least he's hanging out with Claire, that seems moderately healthy, right?" - Sugar delivers this as not good, not bad, just completely ambivalent - a far cry from the Fishes discourse.

And Sydney's eyes fire up with the intensity of hell behind a smile and the "who's Claire?" - Ayo is such an amazing actress, that was a nice palate cleanser after the letter drop.

OK, we're back in the car - again, I couldn't extract much from the vapor, but here are some rough-hewn observations:

Claire saying "We've hung out so much, but we've never actually talked" - add it to the list of "telling, not showing".

I wonder if Molly Gordon is truly a great actress and intended to look at Carmy like that while he was talking about drawing pants (intense psychoanalysis eyes) or if she was attempting to look dreamily at him and just failed the assignment.

It's becoming a bit more clear to me that there's a weird brother-oedipal thing going on with Claire when Carmy talks about how she had so many friends, as Mikey did.

"Speaking of dead brothers, do you want to go to a party?"

Ignoring the totallykookycoolgirl line, I don't believe Carmy wanted/needed the tension to break there, he actually wanted to talk. The 'hmmmm' he lets escape is discomfort on multiple levels.

The party scene - "Pretty in Pink" by the Psychedelic Furs plays as they enter a house filled with 35-year-old fraternity dudes.

For those who maybe missed this, John Hughes also wrote "The Breakfast Club", wherein Molly Ringwald's character was named Claire. They just beat us over the head with this regression repeatedly, and I resent it. I came here for a high-caliber show, and I feel like I'm watching Zach Braff disassociate in a Scrubs dream sequence or some shit.

At least KJ (a 38 years old man with meth face) says that Carmy was in wrestling with him back in high school - maybe this will tamp down the "why is a chef so ripped" debate.

Even when Claire is comforting her friend (which is played by Mitra Jouhari, Molly/Ayo's friend in real life), the delivery is so wooden and sterile and not how adult women console one another in crisis.

Maybe it was the fact that she was forced to maintain the whispery voice through it for consistency in Carmy's presence, but even that seems out of sorts - imagine Syd, Tina, Sugar, anyone consoling a friend in a similar situation - and she uses that consolation to further her agenda with Carmy by dropping that no one has ever made her dinner before (at age 30???)

"Am I stupid?" "No, no....he's the one who sucks".

Wait, these are the lines of a very adult woman who has friends who are doctors getting over a 5-year-breakup? This script is stupid.

Jeremy Allen White is such a serious actor, I'd kill to hear his earnest drunk take on this.

"He's so nice. Why don't I ever meet anyone who's nice?"

*sighs deeply* - Again, y'all are 30.

Tina taking a shot and then getting up to sing "Before the Next Teardrop Falls" by Freddy Fender. I'd love to know if this song has a massive place of significance in Tina's life, but I choose to see it as her being a ballast of support for whoever needs her. Her heart is completely open - no notes.

Hold the phone - they chose "Here Comes The Night" to play as Claire is staring back at Carmy and comforting her friend leading up to the fireworks scene?

Here are the lyrics - Van Morrison/Them is great, but I wonder why they picked this song? Feel free to slap the Syd goggles off me, but this literally just chased Tina's ballad about being there when someone breaks your heart.

KJ saying "busted for having fun, busted for having fun!" as the cops are hauling him away. Loga....I mean, Carmy, was looking for "fun" in his life - I feel like this scene summarizes that pretty succinctly. He's not a man searching for fun, he's a man searching for meaning....and now he's going to conflate the fact that he's completely touch-starved with this type of fun, because the man is emotionally illiterate.

The one lyric from Strange Currencies (when they're driving to the restaurant) that they chose to flare prominently is "where were you when I kissed you" - at least they're driving home the message that these two aren't on the same wavelength.

Carmy walking into the Richie-fight-shitshow and being more concerned about the optics Claire receives when it's obvious that his whole staff has just been through a hellfire of a day, ugh. At least his acting chops are back on display in this scene.

Ahhhh, Claire's sourpuss face as soon as Sydney blurts out "I'm sorry you're here" - it almost makes this episode worth it. Almost.

For the record, I side with everyone who's stated that her introduction to the crowd was exclusively to draw Syd's attention to her.

The same goes for Richie's "Interesting." - if we based everything on what Fishes was trying to sell us, he would have thrown Carmy an arm-punch or something. It's more bemusement, not pride, in Carmy for "bagging Claire". Compare that with the "ooooooooohhhh" when Syd and Carmy are fighting - there's way more tension/acknowledgement of their dynamic.

Ugh - even Richie is like "Cousin, who's going to watch the copper?" as Carmy kicks everyone out. Even if they're ham-fisted about it (as Richie definitely is), everyone is concerned about something to do with the restaurant/their labor except for Carmy, who curtly dismisses them all with fake gratitude.

I won't talk much about Syd's exit, because it's already been discussed to death - yes, he's confused she's leaving. Yes, the only time he can look her in the eye is while Claire is distracted. Yes, he see's she's pissed and it's making him die a little inside.

I will offer a trite story, though:

When I was a young pup, I had a co-worker who had a massive crush on my friend - and the affection was mutual, but unacknowledged due to lack of experience.

He (being a traumatized, ill-equipped man-child) immediately sought out a less challenging girlfriend who even looked like a close approximation of my friend and excitedly brought this new girlfriend to a party I was throwing because he REALLY hoped that my friend would love her. She obviously didn't love her, he came to me confused/upset, and after I explained things slowly and carefully, he dumped the girlfriend a few days later. He dated my friend weeks after (and for transparencies sake, it ended terribly).

Where I'm going with this is that I think somewhere in the recesses of Carmy's damaged mind, he REALLY needed Syd's approval of him being with Claire since he was caught red-handed. He imagined her staying, asking leading questions or chaperoning the situation, or giving him a knowing smile or a "thata boy" - whatever. Even though he told everyone to leave. It's bizarre.

The Fak thing is so cloying - someone mentioned today about the Berzatto clan of fools wanting to live vicariously through Carmy and Claire, and they are 100% correct.

Finally, 30-year-olds don't kiss like this.

This whole thing was as unsatisfying to write as it was to watch. Hopefully, I caught something of use - thanks for sticking with me through this!

[maxzinn]

Damn why is the HSR fandom becoming way worse than genshin? And whenever there is any controversy aventurine is always somehow involved like leave my boy alone 😭

I'm a cis straight woman okay and no matter which fandom i interact with they always look down on me and assume shit about me even though i try to be nothing but understanding I have had so many tell me that I can't like a certain male character romantically because he is only for the boys/gays. Even like when you tell them you like a certain game/franchise/anime/singer or band they're like 'you have to be queer for liking this' and for some reason they try to convince me that I'm queer even though I'm not and they think that me being cis and straight makes me 'basic' and 'boring' I love jjba, Nana, Castlevania, Final Fantasy, Hsr and genshin impact but literally every fandom I've been is filled with a bunch of judgemental pricks which is sad because I was so excited to talk about my interests :( at first i thought they were being like that because I'm asian but then i realised it's because of my 'basic and boring' sexual and gender identity

and for some reason when I tell them that I'm cis straight they immediately assume I'm a white privileged woman (like i said I'm literally Asian) and i haven't struggled a day in my life which isn't true at all it's so ignorant to assume all of this about me just based off my sexual and gender identity and when I try to speak up they tell me that they're just 'giving me the taste of my own medicine' like what??? What does that even mean?? I'm not even homophobic i come from a conservative country and family but I have done proper research and educated myself on this topic and i treat everyone with respect so why can't they also be decent human beings and respect me too? I still try to be understanding but I can't stand the air of superiority among these people and they're usually under the age of 25 too because other queer people I have interacted with who are older than me don't behave pathetically like these people

(sorry this was so long you can ignore it if you want and sorry if my english is bad it's not my first language 😭 anyways I hope you have a good day/afternoon/night)

(This post is also long sorry hehe)

No cuz for real, it’s getting way more annoying in the fandom (no offense) and it’s even worse on twitter and hoyolab.

In my opinion, I think the toxicity mainly starts with people forcing to everybody that every character in hsr is queer coded and all that stuff. I keep seeing all that posts and comments that this certain character is “implied” which is not true??? It makes me wonder if they even know what the word “implied” means, cuz it basically/indirectly means that it’s canon.

I’m so done with those posts that claims “robin is lesbian and girlkisser so gtfo men” like stfu?

If you have seen the replies on tuonto’s twitter post, there’s like a LOT of people saying that. Like, hc her as lesbian if you want but DONT act like it’s canon and stop forcing your hcs on other people pls.

And when others reply to them saying that it isn’t canon and that they shouldn’t force it, they just straight up say that those people are “homophobic and lesphobic”.

I have no problems with gay/lesbian ships cuz I support all ships equally (except the illegal and problematic ones), but these delulu people are ruining it for the fandom tbh.

It’s funny that being straight/cis is seen as basic and boring now. And that part where you’re being forced to be queer is funny af 😭 are they ill?

You can like all the male characters that you like, none of them have canon sexualities and they’re certainly not canonically gay. If some person says that you shouldn’t like a certain male character cuz they’re only for the boys… then they’re ill, don’t listen to those bs.

It’s so weird that people now argue and force a sexuality onto fictional characters and just assume a certain character’s sexuality based on stereotypes (like aventurine for example) then claims that they’re a queer representation when said “representation” is just based on stereotypes.

It’s weird that a character’s sexuality matters so much when it doesn’t even matter that much, just enjoy the game and the plot? Stop projecting yourself onto them, they’re their own person and they have their own personality. They have nothing to do with your sexuality. And most of all… they’re literally PIXELS

And pls, liking a certain franchise doesn’t reflect anything on your sexuality. You can be a straight woman and like drag shows, you can be a straight woman and like BL and GL. Men can be straight and love skincare, men can be straight and like fashion/makeup. ITS NOT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?? Just stop stereotyping people 💀

[cainluvr69]

Surely, We Can Make Miracles Chapter 3

Previous Chapter

Many people, with many ways of thinking, many of which are different from how I approach things. Everyone has their own set of values. There are many different kinds of happiness…and unhappiness.

Rustica: I've written a new song. What do you think?

Bradley: No offense, but it was boring. If this ain't a lullaby for babies, you need to get more crazy with it.

Rustica: Is this "more crazy with it"?

Bradley: Why're you just repeatin' the same melody now?

Rustica: So that those listening may become accustomed to it. Spicing up something familiar is fun, yes?

Bradley: Well, here's what I think. There ain't any need to get used to anything in the first place. Keep 'em guessin' 'til the day you die.

Rustica: What a fascinating philosophy. It offers the prospect of a song with constant deviations throughout.

Bradley: Hell yeah. Screw the sheet music.

✦✧☾✧✦

And should you never meet those people, should you never come in contact with who they are, you'll never know about any of those things.

Nero: Huh?! You sure you wanna add that?

Lennox: It's surprisingly good. Try it.

Nero: Alright, just a little taste test… Woah… You're right. This all goes together really well.

Lennox: Right?

✦✧☾✧✦

There are those who treasure the old-fashioned ways of the world. Those who've found a new kind of radiance. Neither of them need contradict or overshadow the other. Both of them can be cherished, respected, and--as they live side by side with one another--loved.

Faust: This type of magic circle is optimal if you should find yourself in this kind of situation in combat. It doesn't require much preparation or materials.

Murr: If you use magical technology, as long as you've got mana stones on hand, you can do all of thiiiis!

Faust: I see… If it can be used reliably enough, it's not a bad idea to take advantage of that on future missions. Magic and magical technology are both just means, not ends.

Murr: That's what I think, too! But I think our local magitech-hater Shylock might hate us for saying that!

Faust: …That's quite the dilemma.

✦✧☾✧✦

This manor has wizards from five different countries all gathered together under the same roof. I think that this place, where people of many different social standings, ages, and personal philosophies can all live side by side… …is probably the only one like it in the world. When I think about it like that, I really reflect on what an amazing feat it is.

Riquet: Lord Snow, Lord White. Did this kind of game exist two thousand years ago?

Snow: My, my. Perhaps it did, perhaps it didn't.

White: I believe it did, but instead of a ball, it used the bone of a cow.

Riquet: Would you like to play it with Mitile and I later?

Snow & White: Of course~!

✦✧☾✧✦

Akira: Whew… That's enough for today. I've written so much in the Sage's manual. I wonder how many days I've spent just writing about the day-to-day things here in the manor… Huh…? Is someone outside the window…?

✦✧☾✧✦

Akira: (It's Lennox… He's just standing in place staring at something…?) (Oh… There's Faust, and Nero's with him… They're drinking together…) (If he wants to talk to them, he should…though now that I think about it, I feel like I've seen this before…)

✦✧☾✧✦

Lennox: …

Akira: What are you looking at, Lennox?

Lennox: Master Sage.

Akira: Oh, it's the Eastern wizards. I guess they must've just gotten back from their mission. Do you want to talk to them?

Lennox: No.

Akira: …?

Lennox: Ah… Sorry. Erm… Oh, this is a problem. I'm not sure how to explain…

Akira: Oh, no no! It's my fault for asking without thinking about it. It's fine if you don't want to talk about it…

Lennox: No, that's not what it is. I'm just thinking about…how to do it. Like when you're about to lose when playing a board game, but you still don't want to give in…

Akira: …Is this about Faust?

Lennox: Haha… Yes. I was trying to hide it, but you saw right through me. …Lord Faust has no intention of trying to be happy. I imagine he feels like he can't face our comrades who believed in him and died for that belief. I want him to be happy, but my face only serves as a reminder for why he needs to punish himself. At the same time, when he's with those who don't know his past…when he's with the Eastern wizards…he is at peace. Look… See, he's smiling.

I'll never be able to forget how Lennox's face looked at that moment. I saw no longing nor sadness in his eyes, more vibrantly red than the setting sun. He was simply watching Faust's distant back.

Akira: …Is that the game you've lost?

Lennox: Yes. Forcing someone to be happy is as cruel as forcing someone to be unhappy, I think. No matter how tranquil sunlight may be, if someone doesn't want to be in it, then its light will burn them. I lived never giving up. I continued moving forward believing that we'd meet again for four hundred years. But right now… I think that if I don't give up, his heart is going to break. He doesn't need me at his side.

Lennox's expression hadn't changed. I, on the other hand, felt my chest twisting as painfully as if I were the one in his position.

Akira: No, that can't possibly be true. Faust always seems so peaceful when you're with him, Lennox. I think he can rest his heart around you. I've never heard him say anything but good things about you…

Lennox: No, I'm aware that he cares about me. But caring about someone and loving them are two different things. Speaking for myself as an individual, there's no greater reward. But what hasn't been rewarded is… This loyalty that's too much for him to bear.

Akira: Lennox…

Lennox: Don't worry about me, Master Sage. I'm sorry for complaining about something so pointless… I'm simply…getting stuck when I think about what I should do.

Lennox smiled gently down at me.

Lennox: Master Sage. I'm a shepherd. So that my sheep don't stray from the herd, I lead them, ringing a bell to guide their way. But in the past… I simply blindly chased after a single flag in front of me, no better than a sheep myself. I just…still haven't forgotten how he shook my soul back then. He made me see how beautiful the dawn could be.

✦✧☾✧✦

Akira: (Oh, Lennox… I wonder if he wants Faust to become the savior he once was again…) (Or maybe the happiness he's talking about means something different to him… This is hard… Happiness…) (What is happiness…?) Oh, Saku-chan… You're right. I should go to sleep soon.

This little darling is called a sacrificium. The twins created it and gave it to me as a sort of guardian. Because I was summoned here to this world as its Sage. So that I could save it.

✦✧☾✧✦

This world has a beautifully shining moon in its sky, one they call <the Great Calamity>. Once a year, every year, <the Great Calamity> draws close to this world. So that it doesn't come too close and destroy the world, it must be intercepted and pushed back. And that is the duty of the twenty-one Sage's wizards, gathered from the five countries of this land.

✦✧☾✧✦

And my duty is to guide the Sage's wizards and save the world. I don't think I can lead them as smartly as I should, being called the Sage and all, but… If I can at least be a good friend to my wonderful, talented wizards… Then that's what I want.

✦✧☾✧✦

Oz: …

Figaro: Hey, I'm coming in.

Painting Snow & White: Mmrrgghh…

Snow: Oz.

White: Dearest Oz.

Oz: You three, I see…

Figaro: Still awake, huh. I'm guessing you've barely slept since that surprise attack.

Oz: What do you want.

Snow: We came to tell you there's no point in you staying awake like this.

White: Dear Oz. You're afraid of once again being forced to bleed and lose consciousness, and thus, you're keeping yourself on guard. You poor thing. You've never lost in a competition of magic before, after all.

Oz: I did not lose.

Snow: You may as well have. You simply weren't killed. And at the moment, that's the same thing. Even we could kill you right now. I imagine that fact alone is humiliating enough to make you want to die, and yet, it is still the truth of the matter.

Oz: …

White: Oz. It's fair to say that Mithra and the others on this floor that night kept you alive.

Snow: Their pride is the only thing that kept you from turning to stone. For at night, you, the world's strongest wizard, cannot use your magic.

Oz: Get out.

Figaro: Oz. Just think for a second. You're not in a position to order us around right now. We really have been keeping your pride in consideration, but we can't do that anymore. Right now, all you can do is ask others to keep you alive.

White: Exactly. Oz, you must study the ways of the weak. You must live as one of them. You have no choice but to be protected by the strong at night. Bow your head to Mithra, Bradley, and Owen, flatter them…

Oz: Get out!

Snow: Ohoho! All you can do is shout at us? Before, it would have taken you no more than a moment to drive us away… What a tragedy this is.

Figaro: Lord Snow. You're going too far. Oz still has his pride.

Snow: And that's what makes this a tragedy. I'm saying it because he's our dear adorable Oz.

Figaro: Oz was the world's strongest. Even if it's tragic, he still…

White: We're telling him to abandon that pride. How do humans who cannot use magic survive in the North?

Snow: Tell us, Oz.

Oz: When dawn breaks, I will kill you both.

White: Oh, dearest Oz.

Snow: Ohoho. He certainly told us.

Oz: <Vox N…> Zz… Zz…

Snow: Goodness…! He was truly trying to kill us just now.

Figaro: This is exactly the kind of situation we're talking about, Oz. You're the only one who won't admit it… Come on, wake up.

Oz: Ah…

Figaro: And the two of you are just trying to provoke him! That's why he did that! Oz, you need to calm down, too. I know exactly how you feel. I know how horrible it feels to have the spirits refuse to obey you… And that's why I know we need a plan in place. Okay?

Snow: Meticulous as always, dear Figaro. Though you always are.

Figaro: …And what's that supposed to mean?

Snow: That you're trying to set the two of us up as an enemy to get in Oz's good favor and then manipulate him as you please.

White: Dear Figaro. Please recall that you're the ringleader of this. You said you would persuade him.

Figaro: Yeah, I did say that. Because I wasn't expecting the two of you to be this stupid.

Snow & White: Excuse me?

Figaro: If you want Oz to listen to you, you need to be more careful with how you say things to him. What you've been doing is just pointlessly riling him up…

Snow: Ohoho! Make him listen to us? Surely you heard us, Oz.

Oz: I do not recall submitting to you.

Figaro: Oz, do you have any idea what position you're in right now? I'm trying to cover for you. Don't be ungrateful, and don't be stupid.

Oz: Hah?

White: Figaro dearest, you're being so meeeaaan! Oz, darling, come here. You're not stupid at all.

Figaro: Are you for real? The ones blatantly trying to manipulate Oz are the two of you.

Snow: Oh, now there's banging on the walls.

White: My, we've made dear Owen start banging on the walls. I suppose we should withdraw for now, then.

Figaro: Anyways. Oz. If you're going to continue pointlessly keeping watch, at least try to build some better relationships while you're at it. You don't want to follow this pair's lead on how to end relationships in the worst way possible, right?

Snow: Figaro, you're getting punished for that.

White: Yep, punished.

Figaro: Go die, you senile old hags.

Snow & White: <Noscomnia>

Figaro: <Possideo> …You get it, Oz? At this rate, Arthur's going to get turned to stone trying to protect you when you can't use magic.

Oz: …

✦✧☾✧✦

Owen: Jeez… They're so loud. This is the worst. This is worse than the worst. …

Mithra: Owen.

Owen: Mithra. The twins and Figaro were talking to Oz about something weird.

Mithra: Huh.

Owen: They were mocking you.

Mithra: Hah?

Owen: They said that at night, when Oz can't use his magic, he should bow his head to you and have you protect him.

Mithra: Huh, that might not be bad, actually. I wonder if he'll really bow his head to me?

Owen: Get a clue. They're saying they think you're stupid and a coward.

Mithra: How's that?

Owen: Do you want to protect Oz? No way, right? You want to kill him and eat his stone, don't you?

Mithra: Of course.

Owen: But they think you won't kill him. Because you're a coward.

Mithra: … I'll kill them.

Owen: Haha… Maybe they're right. Your heart and body are both wavering. Half-hearted. There's nothing scary about you now.

Mithra: The same goes for you.

Owen: Excuse me?

Mithra: You're being completely half-hearted, too. You're not frightening, and you're not tough. You're making friends and getting pushed around.

Owen: … I'm not getting pushed around. Are you stupid?

Mithra: And I'm not going to be protecting Oz. Definitely not.

Owen: Uh-huh. Not that I care.

✦✧☾✧✦

Owen: Mithra's really pissing me off… Ah… I can see a light still on in the manor. Hehe. Maybe I'll go scare their wits out and have some fun.

✦✧☾✧✦

Chloe: Yaaaawn… Alright, one last push! Ah… Someone's coming to the window. It's Owen! Owen.

Owen: Fufu. What are you up to?

Chloe: I'm making clothes for everyone to wear to the party on Borda Island tomorrow. You'll wear yours, won't you, Owen?

Owen: Nope.

Chloe: Wh--why not?!

Owen: Because it'll make me waver and be half-hearted.

Chloe: I don't know what you mean by half-hearted, but I did pick colors based on the image of wavering light on the water's surface! They're super pretty! I'd really like to see you wear it tomorrow!

Owen: … If I feel like it.

Chloe: Okay! Goodnight!

Owen: Stop it.

Chloe: …?

Owen: … I'm not a coward.

Next Chapter

[floatingcatacombs]

GENSHIKEN POWER LEVELS

12 Days of Aniblogging 2023, Day 10

For no particular reason, all the members of the Genshiken have had their abilities translated into specific parameters. It’s pretty obvious that A would be the strongest, but you might be thinking to yourself, “What on earth is all this B+ and C+ nonsense!?” Well, don’t worry, because I’m not going to explain anything here. Just consult the Servant Parameter Rules.

Overall, the ratings represent ‘otaku power expressed as deviance, taking combat potential into account’.

Spotted Flower spoilers follow. (everyone is bisexual now).

Sasahara Kanji: C+, B

Condition: Green

An “average” otaku in nearly all respects, though he has good taste and the ability to distance himself and speak objectively, even when under attack by girls. Can appreciate yaoi in some situations. As a manga editor, of course, his power increases, and his devotion to his waifu is commendable. The Gunpla Quiz gave him the Ball as his favorite mobile suit, and he’s also a Patwaber fan!

Still… Ahhh! Men who get in the way of Yuri are unforgivable!

Kousaka Makoto A-

BAYOEN! BAYOEN! BAYOEN! BAYOEN! BAYOEN!

Extremely high base stats, a very scary offense and near-perfect defense, that pretty-boy face, perfect crossdressing, and the ability to make it all look effortless. Capable of going at it for half an hour while also watching anime! He can pull girls for threesomes whenever he wants! (not Saki though). He’s a master of the Great Tanaka Rensa technique! That kind of power is truly fearsome… However, a kiss on the cheek from Sasahara was super effective.

Harunobu Madarame. C++/--

Sou Uke

A lot of pros, a lot of cons. However, it all balances out to an average C. This guy is the very picture of a normal otaku… or at least, he tries to be. Low base stats, excellent coverage and decent utility, but he suffers from four moveslot syndrome. Capable of entering a gay relationship, and even bottoming, although the circumstances were not particularly praiseworthy. Easily punishable, due to his excessive recovery frames.

…I can’t decide if cheating on his wife on the night she gave birth to their child is something that raises or lowers his power level.

Mitsunori Kugayama C-

Level 27 Ranger

A pretty skilled artist, when he has to be. Usually he doesn’t have to be, so that’s fine. Manages to live a nice normal life without drama, and that counts for a lot – but he’s pretty conflict-averse.

Souichirou Tanaka. B

P-Bandai 1/100 MG Master Grade Ver. Ka

Capable of successfully synthesizing 2d and 3d by sewing cosplay, building gunpla, and even making custom figurines. Tanaka definitely understands the power of care and love. That’s not the kind of power you can take lightly.

The type to mostly just block attacks until he sees an opening.

Kasukabe Saki E

Blood Type: AB

An otaku-sounding name, but a low power level. Not actually very good at conflict, either. Still, she has been to Comiket Comifest! Don’t count her out.

Ohno Kanako D+, B

Wears a Three Star Uniform

Just wants to be a pretty cosplay mannequin with no internality – until Ogiue shows up, and then the gloves come off. You can really tell the devs put a lot of effort into that jiggling, huh. Don’t take her lightly though: she built seven Goufs.

Her victory line, “There’s no such thing as a girl who hates homos!!”, does feel really out of place after a round win against Hato though.

The Genshiken President ???

BLOOD TYPE: BLUE

A mystery to the last.

Angela Burton – C+

“Unlike your chest, mine gives people dreams and desires.”

You’d think that not being able to understand all those doujinshi she’s buying would make her a weak otaku – but in practice not speaking Japanese just makes her really good at dodging attacks. Extremely high attack power. Eventually becomes an enlightened being capable of appreciating both Yaoi and Yuri and, uh, demanding threesomes from her friends. Hm.

Suzanna Hopkins – B+

Pettan Pettan Tsurupettan

Today I’ll sneakily hide in the trees again and keep stalking Ogiue! I'll wait and steal the precious thing!  The little girl who speaks in nothing but references is actually really blushing?! She sticks out her arms when she runs; is she going for the cute look?

This fanservice joke girl (evil spirit begone!) /

born into the nation of America (probably plays puyo puyo)/

was actually, canonically, (Kadabra, Alakazam)/

bisexual??????? (Mada Mada Ra, Mada Mada Ra, Mada Mada Rame, yeah!)/

Manabu Kuchiki – E

Stand Parameter: Development Potential E

The other kind of joke character. Like Sue, he’s a grappler, but he just doesn’t have enough options or ability to adjust to matchups. Gets points for liking traps, but loses them for one-note misogyny; gets  points for kissing Madarame but loses them for being boring. Starts a lot of conflict but easy and uninteresting to deal with; he always goes for the super so you just have to bait it out and then smash attack him.

If that wasn’t enough, I personally hate this guy because if not for him Hato and Madarame totally would have done That!!!!!  

Ogiue Chika D+, A

Genshiken Brigade Chief and Ultra Fujoshi Director

Incredible otaku power – enough to draw doujinshi of people she knows in real life and easily grasp the truth of Kifujin Kaminaga’s “Hato x Brother” madness. She does constantly try to kill herself and deny her heart but once she stops doing that she’s capable of producing incredible amounts of manga. Ends up with a boyfriend and a girlfriend but complains that sexually satisfying them both takes away from her drawing time. She’s bad at dealing with conflict but her pure ‘level of ability as an otaku’ is close to the top of the rankings.

This ranking is curtain fire shooting game.

Girls do their best now and are preparing. Please watch warmly until it is ready.

The border land was wrapped in Scarlet Magic. Girls believe that you solve this Genshiken Nidaime.

Yoshitake Rika C+++

Nen Type: Manipulator (Pseudo-Coercive).

A demon of chaos. Her power as a fujoshi is fairly standard, but she devotes herself wholeheartedly to causing problems and drama – and in this capacity she’s powerful enough to approach Hato. All her moves have random components… in serious play nobody uses her but among casual players she’s often considered broken.

Yoshitake Risa D

Noble Phantasm Rank C

It’s all fictional anyway but girl. what is wrong with you. Fails to appreciate Hato, but does get Hato to wear fetish clothing, so that’s a bonus. The gap between her appearance and her personality is moe.

Mirei Yajima D+, A-

Self-Proclaimed Uncute Girl Doing Uncute Things

Toiling away in the shonen mines, convinced that someday Naruto and Sasuke will kiss for real no you just don’t understand the depths of their relationship. A terrible artist, and she knows it. Grouchy and grumbly and insecure about her gender presentation, especially with Hato around.

But she’s a good writer, and a good editor, and she knows what she wants (Hato) and how to get it. My second favorite character honestly; I really love the way her complexes towards and around Hato play out. “He needs to have sex with a guy so we can draw better manga, which is the only way to make sure he stays with me!” Yajimacchi are you okay? (no she is not. She has way too much internality).

Kenjirou Hato. A++

Super High School Level Homewrecker

What is Hato’s otaku level? Let’s review: Hato is a crossdresser with a foundational crush on his older brother’s EX-level fujoshi girlfriend, going so far as to dress up as her, copy her drawing style well enough to end up with a wall circle spot at Comifest, and blush when she tells him “Hey. I’m getting married to your brother soon. It’d be really hot if you dressed up as me and fucked my husband-to-be, your brother, as revenge on me for taking him away from you.”

Hato has a naked floating tulpa girl of his fujoshi self floating around behind him who does things like make him smell his senpai’s bedsheets and shower in his room, hoping Madarame will walk in on him. Once he's in deep enough with all of this, he gains a second naked floating tulpa girl of his fujoshi self who has the same eyes as his older brother's girlfriend and is Evil. Hato then integrates both of them and keeps crossdressing after a conversation with Ogiue about what he really wants to be and what he wants to draw.

Hato is out of his fucking mind. I love him.

Hato’s conflict potential is also extremely high. Not only was he a judoka (who spent time in the locker room looking at other boys’ bodies and thinking about yaoi) he expertly plays all kinds of “ohhhh you should just give up on me” women games with Madarame’s pure maidenly heart.

And then Spotted Flower happens. Spotted Flower is a moiling toxic sexual swamp of barely-holding-together relationships and threesomes where your good old favorite Genshiken buddies are now bi (Kousaka, Sasahara, Sue, Ogiue, Angela, and Yajima, in addition to original series bisexuals Madarame and Hato) and cheating on each other. Everybody hates Spotted Flower and they’re so wrong.

By the time of Spotted Flower, Hato is living as a woman full time, with silicone implants.

Regrettably, I have no choice but to stan.

[ahiddenpath]

Fic writers say reviews are important, but what do I do if I don't know what to say?

This is a valid question! Apologies for sitting on it for a few days. I am concerned about coming across as guilting people or making something sound easier than it is, but I do think it's a great q. So...

Disclaimer: My desire to guilt readers who don't review is exactly 0%. My desire to earnestly answer this q in good faith is 100%. I can only give my subjective personal opinion. And I will do so beneath the cut!

Reasons why readers might not review:

Readers are not necessarily writers

Meaningful analysis of a narrative (character analysis, discussion of theme, discussion of narrative structure, etc) is difficult. And like... Even if a reader has those skills, they might be reading the fic for entertainment, and not want to utilize that skill/do that work.

Solution

Short, simple, encouraging reviews. Something like, "Great job, I love this!" or "What an interesting story, excited for more!" or "I've been looking forward to this, thanks for sharing." As a reader, you don't need to approach reviewing as a critic or an analysis. Just offer simple encouragement. This reassures the writer that their work is being read and enjoyed, which enforces that sharing their work is worthwhile.

Readers are afraid that their reviews will be misconstrued or interpreted in bad faith by the author.

Existing online is becoming more harrowing and confusing by the day. There have always been trolls, which I define here as people looking for a fight with no real interest in the reason for the fight. But these days, it's even worse than that.

We've probably all encountered folks online who police the phrasing and supposed intentions of another person's posted content, whether it be a fic, an analysis, or a comment. As you read above, I made a disclaimer to say that I am trying to present a good faith presentation here that respects everyone. The fact that I felt the need to say that really speaks to the status of online discourse right now.

We all encounter things online that we find offensive/objectionable/triggering/not to our tastes. The healthy response to that is to add those tags to our block list so those posts won't show up on our feeds, or to block the user if they don't tag in a predictable and consistent way. As "in real life," we can only control our own behavior. Attempting to argue with the poster will either make you look like an ass if it turns out that their intentions were good, or start an argument with someone who actually IS being a jerk, or at least who has heightened emotions and is volatile right now.

It's just a poor use of our limited time on earth.

Solution

As fic reviewer, the way to avoid unintended offense is to stick to simple, positive reviews when reviewing an author you have not interacted with before. As you get to know them, you can begin branching out if you'd like.

We live in late stage capitalist hellscapes, fascism is rampant, and I am a little bean who is so so tired.

God, do I feel you on this one. I am also a little bean who is so so tired. I won't use the solution tag here because like. Hahahhaahaha. A solution??? To this???? Related to fanfic?

But I suppose, as a fandom writer, I'd gently remind readers that the folks who make fandom related art in all formats are also tired little beans. Without encouragement, we might stop sharing our stuff, not out of spite, but out of sheer exhaustion.

I'm going to pivot topics from why readers might hesitate to review to what I think fandom writers are looking for from reviews- and what we are not looking for. I can only speak for myself, so please take this as my subjective opinion.

My thoughts on constructive criticism from readers

If the writer specifies in an author note or summary that they welcome constructive criticism, go for it! If not, simply ask the author in a review before proceeding. Meaningful constructive criticism is a skill, and it takes a lot of time and thought, so don't put yourself out if the author is not interested.

A lot of fic writers are here to play; AO3 and FFN are not creative writing workshops. A lot of us are interested in growing, though, so please feel free to ask!

What is and is not constructive criticism?

I don't want this to become an essay, and I am wary of treading into the "assuming bad intentions" zone, so I will be brief. Constructive criticism explores literary concepts like characterization, theme, narrative structure, etc. Constructive criticism is not telling the author your personal preferences. If you tell the author that you prefer w theme, x trope, y character, or z ship, this can read as asking for a free commission. Kindly find someone who is open for requests or commission a writer. It's okay and wonderful to be excited about where the story might go and to speculate! But if someone gifts you chocolate chip cookies, maybe uhhh don't mention that you prefer snickerdoodles unless they ask.

What is the "best" kind of review?

The best kind of review 1.) exists and 2.) is positive and encouraging. This is (what I personally believe is) the most broadly applicable statement. For folks who specify that they want constructive criticism and/or proofreading help, then it's that.

I personally think that the best way to review is to mention something specific from the update that stood out to you. Even if you don't have the spoons or desire to articulate why, knowing what is resonating and working is awesome! But what most fandom creators need is to feel that they are being heard, so the simple reviews ("I love this! This is great! Thanks for the food!" etc etc) are treasured.

That's all I can think of! It's kind of you to care and to ask.