#(and why does everything in there have to taste so good)

[all-the-bats-in-the-world]

Since someone tagged it with Logan, here it's. And I'm sorry.

Kindness Tastes Like Blood

Part 1. Where The Lost Things Meet

The darkness is getting hold of him. It's not something new, it started to reach him when he was little, when dad decided he was a play thing. That disgusting mother fucker. He's very dead now, but Wade still sees it in the back of his mind, fighting back, cutting him into pieces and giving it to some starving street dog. The dogs have always been good to him. They never liked dad, the animals know what is kind.

‘You’ll lose’ the darkness says to him, sounding like a voice he should have forgotten. And he is starting to believe it. His world is in danger, everything he cares about will die soon. He thought he could fix it. It seemed very simple, if Logan was dead, he just had to find another one to put in the place. Who would think the Wolverine was the anchor being of Wade's whole world? This is a weak script idea, sure, but also makes sense for Wade, he couldn't imagine anyone else to be this important to him. He remembers it, reading the comics he found in the trash under his bed, hiding it from dad, it was this story of this animalistic man that people tried to control and kill, a man that kept coming back and destroying everything on his way, it was this story that made him company, that made him believe someday he would be free. So, yes, he doesn't need to say he loves the Wolverine, does he? He loves him a great deal.

But the thing is, it's not reciprocated. He knows. He jumps through realities trying to find help, but he doesn't even get the chance to say that he needs him, that he's breaking, that he's desperate, they just punch him, kill him, and this is starting to pile up. ‘Nobody loves you’ the darkness decree. He knows it's not totally true, he knows people love him, Althea, Peter, Vanessa, she said it. He believes her. However, he believes love feels different, that love is not just someone who holds your hand in the bad days or puts up with you. He knows he should be glad, why is he not glad? Was what she offered not enough?

Yes. It wasn't. He knows it should be. Another punch. He's bleeding again. They used to be perfect for each other, but this was before he became a walking wound. Not, he was always like this, except now he can't just pretend anymore, he can't just joke it away. He tried, he really fucking tried. She said to him to show that he cared for something bigger than him. But everything is bigger than him, he's small. Insignificant. You see, this wasn't how love was supposed to be. Well, Wade believes love is understanding. He may be wrong.

‘Nobody will ever understand you, you are unlovable.’ He's covered in blood now, still feeling the sensation of six claws in his chest, piercing through his cursed heart. And he loses it, he throws the TemPad away in his despair, regretting it the same second, he runs and jumps to take it before it touches the floor, but ends up kicking it with his foot, then he stumbles, falling on his own face. Fuck. He cries, like the pathetic being he is.

That's when the electronic — whatever tecnologic shit it is — starts to oscillate on the floor, and bips bips bips. Did he break it? For fuckers sake! He takes it back. Doesn't look like there was any damage, he taps it, but he can't understand the coordinates on the screen. Is it another planet? Doesn't fuck look like Earth.

Suddenly a portal opens up and Wade stares at it. Something is wrong. This portal, it's not golden, it's dark, like a black hole. He feels like when he was a kid. There's a taste in his mouth, and a smell in his nose. He's dragged back to the past. He shivers, suddenly he's in the cold night, one of his feet chained. It hurts so much, but it’s better if he was outside. That was something he never told anyone. He loved the night, he loved when he got this punishment, he pretended to hate it, so that bastard would use it against him. It was a way he found to escape the molestation. It didn't work all the time, but when it worked he felt glad. Glad is a rare and strange feeling. He shivers in gladness and steps into it.

At first all he can see is profound darkness. He's not even sure his eyes are open at all. Has he gone blind? Then there's breathing, he thinks for a moment it's his own respiration, but it's not, he's not making this deep and painful noise. It's a very dark and heavy breathing that gets close with every step. Then he sees it, a subtle light, its red. Seems weird? He sees the eyes before he sees the being. It’s hard to tell its colors in the distance and in the low light. But they are bright and piercing. And unmoving, like it's not really looking at him. He moves close, and something registers, cutting through him. It's green, he realizes, like a pale forest, like a calm lake, its pupils grow, swallowing him in, in an inescapable stare. He's breathing so hard it creates little clouds in the dense air.

Wade would recognize those eyes anywhere. It's so shocking, he stops, his feet refusing to move before the vision. It's a Wolverine. Well, it seems like the TemPad was not broken, but he guesses he was not supposed to find this one, probably no one was supposed to find him. What paralyzes Wade is not just the eyes, but his appearance. The man is contained, pulled down on his knees, defeated, malnourished, the bones standing out under his skin, hes basically just bones and hair, frankly it's absurd he's still alive, well, regeneration is a fucked up thing sometimes. There is a mask on his face, metallic, it looks very much like a muzzle, and there are bright red lines, hundreds of them, connected to the collar on his neck. He's using the yellow accurate comic costume, but it's all dirty and worn out.

It's clear they left him here to die. But what a terrible way to leave this world, painfully slowly, getting weak and disappearing a little bit every day.

“What the hell happened to you?” He doesn't know this Logan, the others he knew, like just their appearances were a tell. And he still kind of feels bad for not helping the uncanny x-men Logan, but that felt like none of his business. This one though, he speaks to something deep in him. He needs to know what happened to him. There is no reaction to his question, he doubts the man will be able to talk soon, he is too debilitated to even breathe properly.

He opens the TemPad, does a little reprogrammation, why not, it's a canon divergent fic, so he can do whatever. Soon the TemPad works very much like a Pokédex, he even turns it in his direction and gets: Wade Willson, also known as Deadpool in Earth XXX, 48 years old, sagittarius, species human…

Does the TVA control Wikipedia too? Or does the author just think it was funny? Whatever. He turns the advice to Logan. His eyes are still burning on him, it's almost unbearable. The scan starts to work, then it stops showing a glowing “restricted access”, so Wade has to do some hacker job, it's nothing, soon the information pops on the screen.

Art by Essi Välimäki

[ollyissleppy]

𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬

summary: christmas without cookies? no, that's not right! christmas is nothing without some baked goods so you and your boyfriend decided to bake some! Also let's judge their baking and decorating skills! a/n: I'm finally home for holiday break, doing a ton of baking in order to prepare so it's so fitting (I love being the baker of the family around holidays/s) cw: maybe fome swearing? idk

series masterlist

sucks at baking, lowkey a god at decorating

"Alright, Rafayel, the cookies are ready!" You call out for your boyfriend, that was temporary banned from the kitchen.

"Finally! You should've let me help you" your boyfriend comes in to the room and stands next to you.

"And risk christmas without cookies? Yeah, no" you move away from the counter to make space for Rafayel. "Now do your job, Mr. Artist"

And he does. Who knew that having an artist as a boyfriend would have it's perks? All of your friends and family can't stop gushing about how pretty the cookies are and how they feel guilty about eating these small pieces of art.

"Here, I made two that look like us."

really fun to bake with (stuff the two of you bake comes out edible), refuses to decorate ('it won't change the taste, so why do that?' type of mf)

"They look… decent enough" Sylus says after pulling cookies out of the oven.

"It's all gonna come together once we decorate them" You look over his shoulder to check how they're turned out.

"We're not doing that." Sylus turns around and now you're face is centimeters away from his.

"What? Why?" You try your best to understand Sylus's position on the matter.

"Doesn't change the taste and it's the only thing that matters" Sylus shrugs.

"But with decorating they'll look pretty" you try your best to reason with your boyfriend as you were really looking forward to decorate them.

"Doesn't convince me." He ruffles your hair before walking away from the kitchen.

You end up sneaking in to the kitchen with the twins and decorate the cookies regardless.

surprisingly good at decorating, as long as he follows the recipe all is good

"Aww, Xav, you made this one look like a polar bear. So adorable" you look over at your boyfriend's most recently done cookie.

"And yours looks like Santa" Xavier smiles at you only for you to smile back at him.

The two of you were decorating the cookies for quite some time, occasionally eating the ones that didn't come out right. You pick up another human-shaped cookie, when you have an idea.

"We should make ones that look like us" you examine the cookie and the icing to make sure you have the right colours to pull it off.

"No." Xavier pics up a cookie that's shaped like christmas tree and starts working on it.

"Why?" You question him, focusing your entire attention on your boyfriend.

"I'd feel bad about eating you"

good at baking (it's that doctor skills or something), doesn't really care for decorating (would do a decent job if asked)

"And they're ready" Zayne says, pulling the last batch out of the oven.

"Wow, I fell like I just watched a magic show or something" you say, sitting on the counter. "Anyway, let's get to decorating" you jump off and prepare the cooled batch for decorating.

"Sure" your boyfriend helps you set everything up.

The two of you work together on different designs on cookies, chatting away on random topics. The cookies come out looking quite good. Yes, some of them came out a little funky, but that doesn't mean they're any less tasty. Let's just say these ones were reserved just for the two of you.

taglist: @leighsartworks216 @faeryminnyx @iloveboysinred @sstar-ggirl @bellagrayson-wayne

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[cjsoleil]

You Make This Christmas Red and White (Seungmin X reader)

Summary: This is Seungmin’s first Christmas with his girlfriend, as well as her first Christmas in Korea. Seungmin intends to make her feel at home.

A/N: Reader is French because why not. Happy holidays to you all!

Winter in Seoul is pretty unpredictable, sometimes it’s absolutely freezing and other times, it’s simply slightly cooler than a November afternoon. It hasn’t snowed much during this December though. This, Seungmin believes, is causing his girlfriend to go through a little bit of seasonal depression. Y/N loves the winter and everything that comes with it. Snow, the cold, hot drinks, playing outside, and of course, Christmas. Being from Canada, winter at Y/N’s home is different than in Seoul, so Seungmin is sure the homesickness is getting to her. It’s the first time she has ever spent Christmas in Korea, as well as spending their first Christmas together. So Seungmin fully intends on making this perfect.

So he starts by making sugar cookies. He even bought those Christmas cookie cutters, so he has reindeer and snowflake shaped cookies. He tops them off with red and white sprinkles before putting them in the oven. Y/N isn’t at his apartment yet, so he’s hoping to surprise her when she gets back from her stroll. She’s been staying with him during the break since the universities are closed. As he waits for the cookies to bake, his phone rings, but it’s just Felix. Seungmin quickly clicks accept and speaks before Felix can.

“Can’t talk right now Felix.”

“What? Okay, why not?”

“I’m baking cookies.” Felix scoffs on the other line.

“I’m not there Seungmin, we have to be together to ruin our baked goods.”

“Can’t risk it. I’ll call you back.” Seungmin hangs up the phone as the door to his apartment opens. He looks over and is greeted with the sight of his girl, wearing a light coat.

“Hey.” Y/N says as she takes off her shoes and coat. She sniffs, before smiling, “Ah, what are you making?”

“Close your eyes.” Seungmin demands when she gets into the kitchen. Once she does so, he grabs a reindeer shaped cookie from the cooling rack, and brings it to her parted mouth. Y/N takes a bite and instantly tastes sugar. Opening her eyes, she swallows before smiling.

“You made me cookies.”

“I did.”

“And they’re good, so Felix hasn’t dropped by.” Y/N snickers and takes the rest of the cookie from Seungmin’s hand, “So what brings this at-“ she looks at the clock on the microwave, “Nine in the morning. Not that I don’t appreciate it.” The boy hums and leans against the counter.

“I don’t think you appreciate my efforts, you haven’t thanked me.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N steps close to him and kisses him gently.

“Thank you my oh so kind Seungmin, Mon Cheri.” He wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“I have a plan for us today.”

“Oh?” Y/N rests her arms on his shoulders, “What is it?” Seungmin grins and pushes her away.

“A surprise.” He tells her, and uses a dish towel to take the last tray of cookies out of the oven, “We’ll head out soon. How was your walk?”

“Good, it’s pretty nice out. Kinda cloudy. I was going to get a hot chocolate but the cafe was closed.”

“Hm, I’ll get you one later.”

“Aw, you're such a sweetheart.” Y/N pats Seungmin’s face and squishes his cheeks. His lips purse and he pushes her away, “You know what I want though? Candy cane hot chocolate. That and peppermint mocha are two of the best things about the season.”

“Are those not the same thing?”

“How many times have we had this conversation?”

“I’m still confused about the difference between candy cane and peppermint hot chocolate.”

“Candy cane is better.” Y/N grabs another cookie, “You sure you can’t tell me where we’re going?”

“No.”

—————

Soon enough, Seungmin and Y/N are in Seungmin’s car heading north. One of Seungmin’s hands rests on her thigh and the other is on the steering wheel. The heating is on high and Seungmin is wearing a sweater that Y/N bought him. It’s forest green with a picture of Pochaco in the corner. Both of their jackets are on the backseats.

“How long is this going to take?”

“A bit more than an hour.”

“So far!” Y/N laughs and holds onto Seungmin’s hand, “Where are you taking me away to?”

“Not telling. Be patient, love.” He lifts their joint hands and kisses the back of Y/N’s.

“Fine. So, is there anything you want for Christmas? Not saying I haven’t got you anything, but is there anything specific?”

“No.” Y/N frowns. Seungmin hasn’t given her one idea of what to get him. It’s not like shopping for him is that hard, but she would still appreciate any help.

“Are you sure?” Seungmin glances at the girl before smiling.

“Yes. All I want for Christmas is you~” he sings along to the song on the radio. Y/N gives him a fake little smile that he can’t even see.

“Cute. Did you get your parents a present?”

“Yes.”

“And Chan? Minho? Jeongin?”

“Yes, you don’t have to manage me. I know how Christmas works.” They sit in silence for a few moments.

“…Did you get your sister a gift?”

“Fuck.” He stops at a red light and looks at Y/N giving her a sweet look, “jagiya-“

“Not happening.”

“It’s not necessary nor expected for you to get my family any presents.” Seungmin complains.

“Your family is letting me barge in during the holidays, of course I’m bringing them presents.”

“Stop saying that as if you aren’t welcomed. You know we’re all happy to have you.” Y/N squeezes his hand.

“How sweet. Answer is still no.” Seungmin groans, “We’ll order something later.”

“Fine.” A vibration comes from the cup holder between them and Y/N grabs Seungmin’s phone.

“It’s Chan.”

“Ignore it.” Y/N looks at the boy confused.

“Why? Are you mad at him?”

“No, but I don’t want to talk to him right now. I’ll text him when we get drinks.”

“I can let him know.”

“Yeah. Text him on your phone though.” Y/N puts his phone back in the cup holder and grabs her own.

“Are you hiding something from me?”

“Yes.” Y/N blinks a few times at Seungmin before shrugging.

“Okay then.”

The nice thing about car rides with Seungmin, is that they don’t feel that long. The longest drive they’ve ever been on together was three hours, and it felt like nothing. Even when they simply listen to music, without exchanging a single word, the time spent together is enjoyable. Y/N insists that it’s something about Seungmin, though he says she’s just easy to please.

“Look at that Min, it’s snowing! It hasn’t snowed this much back in Seoul.”

“No.” Seungmin says, “It always snows more once you get further North.”

“You know when I was younger, my siblings and I would fill buckets of snow and dump it on whoever slept in that day.” Y/N sighs, “Good times.”

“You must have been an insufferable kid.”

“Seungmin!”

“I’m joking!” He laughs and Y/N shakes her head at how cruel her boyfriend is.

“You’re so mean.”

“I’m funny.”

“With you there’s no difference.” Y/N rolls her eyes before continuing, “We always got harsh snowfall in Quebec, hence the festival. That’s in February though. My family would always drive down to go visit it, it probably boost my tolerance of the cold.”

“I thought you were from Quebec?”

“The province, Mon amour. But I’m not from the city of Quebec.”

“Is it much colder there?”

“I must say yes.”

“Sounds like hell.”

“Only if it froze over.”

Seungmin soon parked at a free parking space he found, which Y/N praised him for.

“Okay so we’re here… but what is here? I’m still confused.”

“You usually are.” Y/N reaches over and pinches Seungmin’s ear.

“Ow! Sorry, sorry, sorry jagi.” Y/N let’s go and Seungmin rubs his ear, “I’ll show you what’s here.” He tells her, and reaches to the back seat and grabs his coat, putting it on. Y/N does the same. Seungmin’s coat is slightly heavier than Y/N’s. They step out of the warm car and Seungmin shivers a bit while Y/N appears unfazed at the cold wind hitting her face. Seungmin clicks the invisible button on the trunk to open it, revealing its contents.

“A sled?” A classic, wooden sled like one you would see in a old movie. Seungmin nods and gives her an excited smile. Clapping her hands together, Y/N laughs and looks at Seungmin.

“Aww, Minnie! Did you take me all the way out here to go sledding?” The boy shrugs and wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist when she pulls him in for a hug.

“It’s nothing.” He mumbles into her ear, kissing the skin. Pulling away, Y/N pats his face which has turned red because of the cold.

“One sec.” She walks over to the car and opens the back door, grabbing two pairs of gloves, her’s are fingerless though, and two hats. One is light blue with a gray pompon and the other is light pink with a white pompon. Closing the door, she puts hers on and makes her way to Seungmin. She grabs both of his cold hands and puts his gloves on, before putting the pink hat on his head. Well, actually it’s a -

“Touque Seungmin.” Y/N playfully corrects him, before tilting her head and humming softly, “Aw, mon beau homme. J’adore.” Seungmin blinks owlishly, before softly smiling.

“You look good too.” He grabs the sled and shuts the trunk, holding her hand with his free one, “Let’s go.”

The walk to a lovely hill wasn’t even far, since Seungmin has planned out the exact location and where he wanted to park yesterday. Y/N praised him for his intelligence but he only shrugged her off. So now, at the very top of the hill with a few other people around, most of them being kids, Seungmin drops the sled on the ground.

“Okay so since we’re ridding together, I’ll get on and you can go behind me.”

“Who said I’m riding behind you?” Seungmin replies, a teasing look in his eyes. Y/N is quick to retaliate.

“Me. Because I want you to.”

“Oh? But I don’t want you to become spoiled.” With complete exaggeration, Y/N looks at him with gasp.

“Me? Spoiled? My Seungmin, how could you claim such a thing? You’re so mean to me, how could I possibly be spoiled?” She pokes his chest with an accusatory tone, “I’m the one that spoils you! With my endless love and affection.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes and grabs Y/N’s hand, holding it between his own.

“Fine, you sit in front.” He leans down and pecks her cheek, whispering close to her ear, “Brat.” With a smile, the girl drags the sled closer to the edge of the hill, sitting down and patting the space behind her. Seungmin, though pretending to be a little mad, sits down. He wraps his arms around her waist. Nudging them forward with her feet, Y/N pushes them to slide down the hill, laughing as she does. Seungmin’s laughing from behind her, his arms tightening.

When they get to the bottom, the two are still crackling, and Y/N claps her hands, the sound muffled by her gloves.

“Again!” And the two spend who knows how much time climbing back up the hill just to slide back down. Then on there way back up again, Y/N notices something. She smirks to herself and once at the top, sets the sled up. She gets on it, Seungmin sits behind her, and right before she’s about to push off she hears Seungmin speak.

“Wait is that- Y/N!” She pushes them down and they move high speed, and close to the bottom they slide up a little pile of ice and fall to the ground. On impact, they tumble off the sled and onto the snow. Or into the snow.

“Why would you do that?” Seungmin tilts his head to Y/N, who’s grinning like a maniac.

“Because I can.”

“I hate that answer.” Y/N ignores him and starts to make a snow Angel, intentionally kicking Seungmin’s leg when she can.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Y/N stands up and helps Seungmin up with both hands.

They put the sled back in the car before they started their walk. It’s lightly snowing, and the wind isn’t very harsh.

“Come here.” Seungmin grabs Y/N’s hand and they step into a small store. They say hi to the woman at the cash register. When Seungmin finds what he was looking for, he holds them up to Y/N.

“Pick.”

“What… even are those?” In his hands are plastic scoops? But the ends are hollow outlines of different animals. One is a duck, the other is a snail.

“Just pick.” Y/N picks the duck. Seungmin pays for it at the counter and they go back outside. He goes to the pile of snow beside the sidewalk and uses the scoop to collect a pile of snow, forcing it shut before holding it up to Y/N’s open hand. He opens it, and a duck shaped snow pile drops in her hand.

“Oh my god.” Staring at the duck in amazement, her voice gets a little higher in excitement, “Aw! This is so cute! Let me try.” Seungmin gives her the tool and Y/N starts to make ducks of her own.

“This is great.”

“You leave a trail of ducks in your path.” Seungmin laughs while he watches his girl out the snow ducks on the ground, or any ledge or staircase railing they walk past.

“I know. I’m compelled to fill your apartment with them.”

“I’ll kick you out.” Y/N rolls her eyes and lightly passes her duck from hand to hand.

“You talk a big game, cheri.” Seungmin rolls his eyes and Y/N purposely starts to slow her pace so Seungmin is a little ahead of her and when she gets the opportunity, pulls his coat and shirt collar back and shoves the duck down his shirt. Seungmin yelps at the sudden cold, shaking a little to get the snow off of his skin. This makes chunks of snow fall to the ground.

“You fucking brat!” He yells, but Y/N only laughs, which soon dissolves into a gasp when Seungmin tackles her into the snow. Nobody else if around, which makes Seungmin much more dangerous without the risk of public humiliation.

“What are you-“ she shouts when Seungmin pulls back the collar of her jacket just to drop a pile of soft snow on her neck and collar bones. In retaliation for the fight that she started, Y/N throws a handful of snow into his face, taking advantage of his dazed state to flip him over.

“Okay stop!” Seungmin covers his face with his gloved hands and Y/N grins, sinking her hands in the snow beside his head, ignoring the cold surrounding her fingers.

“My my, is Kim Seungmin asking for my mercy?” Seungmin glares at her, but when she presses her cold fingers into his neck, he squirms and says,

“Okay okay, mercy.”

Smiling with her achievement, Y/N gives Seungmin a kiss on his nose before getting up, helping Seungmin up as well. He shivers as they continue to walk.

“Aw, I’m sorry Mon amour.” Y/N says in a voice that doesn’t sound sorry whatsoever. However she actually does feel a little bit bad. Seungmin’s face is all red now. Thought she quickly gets karma for that, when she slips on ice she didn’t see.

She lays there in shock, staring up at the sun when Seungmin’s head comes into view.

“Are you concussed? Say no so I can laugh at you.”

“You literally laughed when I fell down the stairs yesterday.” Seungmin lets out a giggle at the memory before grabbing Y/N’s arms, pulling her up.

“Yeah, cause it was funny.”

“You’re such a cruel man.”

“Sure, I am.” He rolls his eyes. Seungmin grabs her hand and links there fingers together, just so he can helpfully prevent another fall. On their walk, Y/N gave a little girl the snow duck maker thing since she noticed that it caught her eye. This was to Seungmin’s relief, he did not need his apartment filled with snow ducks. They visited a couple stores on their walk, and ended up buying a beautiful pottery tea set for Seungmin’s sister, which Y/N of course picked out. By that time, the two of them were starving and got hotteok from a little store.

“You know, in the motherland” Seungmin snorts, as Y/N continues, “There’s this candy they make in the snow.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to eat snow.”

“Well, yeah.”

“So if you're making candy in the snow, isn’t it basically the same thing?”

“No. And it’s not like eating snow will kill you.”

“Eat it then.” Y/N stares him straight in the eyes before crouching down and collecting a handful of soft, untouched snow. She brings the snow to her mouth and Seungmin quickly slaps it out of her hand.

“Min!”

“Are you three? Are you actually going to eat snow?”

“Well, no, I am not three. And why wouldn’t I eat the snow.”

“That’s gross.”

“It’s untouched, freshly fallen. No big deal.”

“Would you drink from a puddle if I asked?” Y/N smiles and leans into Seungmin, making him wrap his arms around her waist.

“To prove a point? Of course.” She gives him a quick kiss before laughing a bit.

“You’re so annoying.” Seungmin comments, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they continue to walk, “Let’s get back to the car. It will get dark soon.”

It’s dark by the time they get home, but it’s not even that late. It just gets dark early during the winter.

“Hey.” Seungmin turns his head to look at Y/N when he parks the car, “I need you to stay back for like- 5 minutes.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” Seungmin leaves the car without another word and leaves the keys with Y/N, who, while confused, does listen and stays in the car for five minutes before leaving the car. She makes sure to lock it before going up to his apartment. She unlocks the door to notice the main lights turned off, but red and white lights illuminate the ceiling.

“What is…” Y/N turns on the lights and gets a good look at the room. On the kitchen cupboards there’s deer and penguin decorations, and she sees on the coffee table there’s a bunch of different snow globes of different colours, sizes and designs.

“Hey.” Bells ring and Y/N turns to face the sound, nearly dropping the box holding the tea set.

“Seungmin.” Y/N breathes out, at smile on her face. There is a Christmas tree, small but beautifully decorated. But it’s not the tree that brings her joy, though that’s a part, it’s what is under the tree. Perfectly wrapped presents which were definitely not done by Seungmin considering his… questionable wrapping skills. What is really the best thing though, is Seungmin, sitting cross legged in front of the tree with plaid pajamas and a giant bow on his head.

“Do you like- ow!” Seungmin is knocked to the ground, laying flat on his back with Y/N straddling his waist.

“Aw Seungmin!” Y/N coos and cups Seungmin’s face, squishing his cheeks, “What is this?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? The apartment is so pretty, who did this?”

“I got Chan, Felix and Hyunjin to decorate while we were out.” Seungmin explains with a smile, happy to see his surprise had the desired effect.

“I thought that you would like it, since you said that your parents always decorated like crazy back home and we’re not going to my parents house for some time.”

“Oh!” Y/N dramatically clenches her chest, “Mon coeur! Tu es trop mignon Seungmin, je suis malade!” Y/N rambles on in french and Seungmin only makes sense of a few words. When he decides that she’s been speaking too much, he grabs her by the chin and brings his lips to her, kissing her roughly. Y/N immediately closes her eyes and leans into it, letting Seungmin sit up with her in his lap. After a couple minutes, he pulls away completely. His face is burning red, and Y/N finds it so endearing that even after all this time she can still give that effect.

“Look at this.” Y/N smiles gently and tugs at the bow in Seungmin’s hair, “Mon amour, are you my present?”

“Yes.” Seungmin nods, a serious look on his face, “I have no other gifts for you. I spent all my money on snow globes and reindeer figurines. So you will have to settle with only me.”

“The best gift of all.” Y/N states it as if it’s a fact, leaning closer to him and whispering against his lips, “Do I get to open it now?” She closes the distance, licking Seungmin’s upper lip and kissing him gently. It soon turns rough, Seungmin kissing her frantically and grabbing at her hips and thighs. Y/N grasps at the hem of Seungmin’s top, inching the fabric upwards.

Seungmin suddenly pulls back and pushes Y/N off him, standing up and walking away as if nothing happened. Y/N sits on the floor, shocked.

“What are you-“

“You can’t unwrap me just yet jagiya.” Seungmin smirks, sitting on the couch, “It’s not Christmas.” Y/N groans and lays on her floor in defeat.

“And you say I’m the brat.”

“You’re my brat.”

[kathlare]

lingering thoughts

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Set during the Austrian Grand Prix, this chapter delves into Lando Norris’s inner turmoil after learning about Amelie Dayman’s breakup.

Wordcount: 2.2 k

Warnings: just fluff

June 29th, 2023 - Spielberg, Austria

The Austrian Alps stood tall and imposing under the clear July sky, the paddock bustling with activity as drivers, team personnel, and media swarmed the Red Bull Ring. Lando Norris strolled through the paddock with a spring in his step, his usual easy grin plastered across his face. For once, he wasn’t faking it for the cameras. The reason for his good mood? Amelie Dayman was single again.

It had been just a few hours since the news broke. Both Amelie and Rodrigo Riquelme had posted identical Instagram stories confirming what Lando had only heard through rumors until now. The couple, who had been dating since late 2021, had quietly parted ways, and while Lando had heard whispers of their split—Carlos had been the one to mention it first when he overheard Checo talking to Max—he hadn’t believed it. Not really. He’d been hopeful, sure, but the logical side of him had dismissed the idea, unwilling to get his hopes up again. Now, with the confirmation on social media, there was a fluttering in his chest that he hadn’t felt in… well, a while.

His mind was racing, a thousand thoughts at once: What does this mean? Could this be it? Could we actually have another chance?

But there was also that nagging feeling deep down, the one that kept him from fully embracing his hope. The fear. The uncertainty. Maybe we’re not meant to be.

Lando sighed, his smile faltering for just a second before he caught himself. He was at Media Day for the Austrian Grand Prix, supposed to be focusing on the race weekend, yet his thoughts kept drifting back to Amelie. To her Instagram story. To the idea of her being single, and what that might mean for them.

There had been a time, not too long ago, when everything had been different. When he and Amelie had been more than just friends. It wasn’t anything public, anything anyone really knew about. They had kept it quiet, just the two of them. It was casual, nothing serious, or at least that’s how they had both convinced themselves. But that had been before everything fell apart—before she got caught up in filming Wicked and he’d started talking to Luisinha, who had become his girlfriend after he and Amelie ended things.

He hadn’t expected it to end like that. The whole situation with Amelie had left a bitter taste in his mouth, especially the way she seemed to completely shut him out. But now, months later, with the split between Amelie and Rodrigo, he couldn't help but wonder: Could we try again?

Lando shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he entered the media room. His PR team had already prepped him for the questions, the usual inquisition about the race, his season, his goals. But all he could think about was Amelie.

—Ready for the questions, Norris?— Carlos chuckled from beside him as he took a seat at the table.

Lando flashed a grin. —Always.—

But Carlos could tell something was different. Lando wasn’t his usual, carefree self. He was… lighter, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. And Carlos, being Carlos, had a pretty good idea why. The rumors about Amelie and Rodrigo had been circulating for a while, and Carlos had known before anyone else that something was going on. He had seen how Lando had reacted when he first heard the news, the barely concealed hope in his eyes that maybe, just maybe, Amelie was finally single again.

Lando settled into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look casual as the media session began. His eyes flicked over to Carlos, who gave him a knowing smirk. Lando shot him a glare, though it didn’t have the usual edge. He couldn’t help it. His mind was elsewhere.

Carlos leaned in slightly, keeping his voice low enough so only Lando could hear. —You’ve got a stupid grin on your face, mate. I know why.—

Lando bit back a laugh, a little nervous but trying not to show it. —I don’t know what you’re talking about.—

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. —The break-up news. You’re telling me you’re not at least a little excited?—

Lando’s smile faltered for a split second. —I don’t know. I mean... yeah, sure, I’m happy for her, if that’s what she wants, you know?—

Carlos leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying this. "Right. But also, it’s not like you’ve been completely ignoring it. You heard the rumors a while ago, yeah?"

Lando bit his lip, glancing around as the media settled in, beginning their usual string of questions. His mind was still caught in the whirlwind of possibility. —Yeah, I heard it, but… I didn’t want to believe it, you know? Like, I didn’t want to get my hopes up.—

—You do that a lot,— Carlos said with a grin, though his tone was softer now. —I think you’ve been hoping for this for a while.—

Lando’s fingers drummed against the table, though his focus was far away from the questions that were being asked. His thoughts were a blur. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, the idea that Amelie might actually be single again. The thought made him feel alive, but it also brought a flood of old memories, the times they’d spent together before everything fell apart. He remembered how easy it had been then, how simple it had seemed to be with her, even if they both denied it. He remembered the nights they’d spent talking, laughing, letting their walls down with each other.

Then, he remembered the end. The painful silence after they’d both walked away, trying to convince themselves they were fine, that everything was fine. But it had never really been fine. He had wanted more. They both had.

He couldn’t help it. A part of him had never really let go.

— Do you still talk to her?— Carlos asked, his voice breaking into Lando’s thoughts.

Lando snapped back to reality. — What? No. I haven’t talked to her since the last time, you know? That was...— He stopped himself, suddenly feeling the weight of the words. That was months ago. The last time they’d seen each other was at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix in 2022, and Amelie had acted like he wasn’t even there. The silence between them had been suffocating. He hadn’t expected it, but somehow, he had known it was coming. —It’s been a while,— he added, a little quieter than he meant to.

Carlos nodded slowly, sensing the shift in Lando’s tone. —I get it. But I know how you are, mate. You’re not fooling anyone.—

Lando’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he quickly glanced away, focusing on the flashing cameras in front of him. He wanted to brush it off, to act like it didn’t matter, but it did. It mattered more than he wanted to admit. He’d kept his distance after they broke up, but the thought of Amelie being single again made him wonder.

Could they find their way back to each other?

His heart gave a small, hopeful leap at the thought, but then the fear crept in again. What if things weren’t meant to be? What if they were too broken to fix? What if they had moved on? What if she didn’t even want to hear from him?

Lando rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake off the anxiety building in his chest.

The questions from the media began rolling in, but Lando could barely concentrate. His rehearsed answers tumbled out on autopilot, a mix of team strategies and hopes for the weekend’s race. The usual banter with Carlos helped mask his distraction, but every now and then, his mind wandered back to her. The confirmation of her breakup had shaken something loose in him, and now, it was all he could think about.

Between questions, Carlos nudged him again, his tone light but his gaze knowing. —Mate, you’ve got to stop overthinking it. If you want to talk to her, just do it.—

Lando shot him a look, his voice dropping to a whisper. —It’s not that simple.—

Carlos shrugged, clearly amused. —It’s always been that simple. You just like to make it complicated.—

Lando didn’t respond, though he couldn’t argue. It wasn’t like he could just message her out of the blue, not after everything. What would he even say? Hey, saw you’re single again. Fancy a chat? It sounded ridiculous even in his head.

Now, sitting there in the media room, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe this was his chance. Maybe he could finally say all the things he’d been too scared to say before. But then, there was that other voice in his head, the one that reminded him of how badly things had ended between them. The arguments. The silence.

Lando shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it. He needed to focus on the race, on his performance. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. He remembered the way she used to look at him, the way she laughed at his stupid jokes, the way she made him feel like he could be more than just a driver, more than the guy everyone expected him to be.

And now, she was single again.

The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He didn’t know if he was ready for this, if he was ready to face her again. But a part of him wanted to try. Wanted to see if there was still something there, something worth fighting for.

As the media session wrapped up, Lando stood, stretching his arms over his head. Carlos clapped him on the back, grinning. —You’ll figure it out, mate. Just don’t fuck it up this time.—

Lando laughed, though it felt hollow. —Thanks for the vote of confidence.—

Carlos smirked, already walking away. —You’ll need it.—

Lando lingered in the room for a moment, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stared at the floor. He could hear the bustle of the paddock outside, the hum of engines and the chatter of fans. Normally, it was the kind of atmosphere that energized him, but today, it felt different. He felt... restless.

He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over her contact. Her name stared back at him, a name he hadn’t seen on his screen in months. He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. What would he even say? Would she even want to hear from him?

He locked his phone and shoved it back into his pocket, letting out a frustrated sigh. He couldn’t do this. Not now. Not yet.

Instead, he walked out into the paddock, the sunlight hitting his face as he took a deep breath. He needed to clear his head, to focus on the race weekend. But as he made his way back to the McLaren garage, he couldn’t shake the thought of her. The hope. The fear. The possibility.

Maybe we’re not meant to be, he thought again, but this time, it didn’t feel so convincing.

Maybe we are.

[radioactive-earthshine]

@ahi-kakariki

Without getting too deep into an essay about this, the bullet point version for why many comic fans dislike the "Lex DNA thing" is as follows;

1.) It is a retcon to an already established canon lasting almost a decade when the reveal happened. When Kon was first introduced DC was under an editorial mandate that there could only be ONE Kryptonian in the main continuity - Clark. So every single "Super" you see (Supergirl, Superboy etc) are not Kryptonian. How Kesel got away with Kon was by making him a "clone" from Cadmus that they originally thought was Clark's but was revealed to actually be completely unrelated to him at all. This was quite a bummer to Kon but he got over it and still wore the S shield with pride. One year later, he finds out who his genetic doner actually was - Paul Westfield who was your typical unethical dirtbag scientist/ceo. This really bummed Kon out but again, he got over it because he knows he is not Paul Westfield.

2.) Being unrelated to Clark ties more into the greater Superman narrative in that revolves around adoption and immigration. It was important that Kon was unrelated to Clark by blood, and yet Clark still admitted that out of everyone who wore the S-Shield, he felt the closest to him.

3.) Eugenics. Geoff making Kon a Clex clone might not have been such a bad idea if he did anything with it that wasn't just eugenics and pushing the narrative that "bad genes" exists. Again, Kon was already related to a scumbag and this was not pushed as a narrative - he had his moment and got over it. With Lex, it kept coming up over and over again.

4.) Stagnation. While TTv3 absolutely did have profound character building moments for Kon, many feel that the retcon did more harm than good. While it did add drama and interest, it kept coming back as a plot for Kon to grapple with over and over again. It also ended up more as a joke or a prop to Clex as a ship in many circles that put some bad tastes in people's mouths. We also had a phenomenal build up in Kon's solo series before TTv3 that touched on some themes of scifi, clone rights, body autonomy, dehumanization and corruption within the government and scientific institutions - most of this was dropped in favor of everything else Geoff was focused on.

5.) 50% Clark and 50% Lex is not a clone...

There are certainly other reasons, but these are the main ones that comic readers keep coming back to why the "Clex clone" bothers them (if it does.)

Naturally, it doesn't mean that this retcon is absolute garbage and if you do enjoy it you're out of your mind, because there is worthwhile story in this. It's just unfortunate that Geoff didn't or couldn't do something other than what he did.

For more context I urge you to read Superboy 1994!

Still my favorite piece of Superboy lore. Geoff Johns made his headcanon, canon when he wrote Teen Titans and decided to make Conner Kent have some of Lex Luthor's DNA.

[clowndensation]

it's like. louis attempted to tell this story to daniel the first time, broke down, and attacked him before he could finish it.

and then decades later he's convinced himself that it was leaving the story unresolved that's holding him back from living his life fully now. so he invites daniel back again. and louis is sitting poised and put together, confident in his ability to recite his history in a pretty, poignant, neat little narrative that will resolve all the guilt and yearning and emptiness inside of him. that if he can just tell a compelling, satisfying story, maybe it will actually be that, and not the life he lived through, with all the pitfalls of his own failures lurking inside.

and then season 1 ends with him once again being forced to confront that the story he wants to imagine and the life he actually lived aren't the same thing. the boundaries around his narrative are shredded and he's left exposed, and subsequently able to face his past for the first time since that original interview. and you think, you think, "well this is it. they've crossed the event horizon. there's no use hiding the truth anymore, not after it's come flooding out into the open like this"

and then season 2 opens. not only is it back to the original, practiced distance, we now have armand literally enforcing that distance. a man sitting at the table who's interjections must be disregarded, an intentional interruption to the flow of the story. he doesn't exist to aid or add detail, he exists to distract louis when he gets too deep in the story. the only time we do get louis allowing any deep truth to come out is when armand leaves the room.

it's like. louis wants a story that's true, and the truth is what he's convinced will leave him satisfied. armand wants a story that will satisfy louis, to the extent louis will accept it's true.

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[worstloki]

Thor: your food tastes horrible, what have you done to your natural produce

Tony: I order in from Iraq to feel something

[crossbackpoke-check]

Substance, Shadow, and Spirit [remixed, abridged] by Tao Yuanming

[missrosegold]

Looks like I just lost another close friend to guy who isn't worth a pile of dog shit. 😊

[houseofwolvess]

i always find it so funny that so many of y'all are all for the death of cringe culture until someone does something you personally find to be a little TOO weird and then bully them till they shut up. like you can't have it both ways. you can't scream out "cringe culture is dead!!" and then hurt people for harmless interests :/

[metamercury]

Hang on I was gonna put this in the tags, but I have contributing thoughts that are a bit larger:

This is a long post, but I thought it was an interesting read that gives a take that I feel many fandom creators share. So it's worth reading for that perspective at the very least.

For me personally though, I don't believe these problems are solved at all by locking fics on Ao3. It's not going to do much to stop the people who want to take it and disseminate it to the masses, as it only takes one "fan" to pass your work onto all the tourists.

But whether or not you can meaningfully stop theft isn't my main comment.

I think what locking fic on Ao3 in particular is more likely to do however is dissuade curious onlookers from actually getting more involved in the fandom (as a dedicated lurker or otherwise). This is specifically because when you're logged out of Ao3, it doesn't show you locked fics as things that exists but you can't access. Instead, ao3 it doesn't show you the locked fics at all. They don't exist. If everyone locks their fic, a curious onlooker trying to see if anything has been written for a show/movie/game they love will look on Ao3 and find.... that there's no community there at all. They would find nothing.

If it were a situation where it showed you the locked fics and then hit you with a "log in to continue" page if you tried to read it, then this wouldn't be so much of an issue. But because Ao3 hides locked fics from you completely if you're not logged in, I think it really is a detriment to new fans. These new fans can't even see that there's a barrier or a gate that they need to cross to get involved in fandom, they just see that nothing exists. And if nothing exists, then they're likely to move on and find something new to get interested in. Who is supposed to tell them that the community exists if only they knew the magic word?

I get why people choose to lock their fics, and I don't think anyone is wrong in making that choice for themselves. But I also think that it is overall a detriment to fandom spaces. Communities need to have ways of bringing new people in, and I worry that we'd miss a lot of great writers and readers this way.

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[amalgamgooze]

mall adventure with my sleep deprived friends

Prom was last night. We all had a good time.

======================

Of course, everyone's either super tired today or just feeling weird.

I ended up only waking up at 1:30 this afternoon because of how late I'd stayed up. I'd felt tired leaving prom but I also couldn't really fall asleep.

Regardless. I didn't feel that tired, but that's probably because I probably got a good amount of sleep last night AND I usually don't get more than 8 hours of sleep on regular days.

The same can't be said for my friends, I'm afraid.

At the mall, I practically had to drag them out of the kitchenware section, breaking up a conversation something along the lines of "do we need anything for our graduation parties from this aisle?". I might be an asshole for doing that, but come on. If you're getting a waffle iron for your grad party, that's something you should probably coordinate with whoever's helping you host the party--not your friends that you're just going on a trip to the mall with.

(Though I suppose a waffle iron could be fun at a grad party. To an extent.)

(Frying pans, however, are just weird.)

After doubting the purity of two-dollar Target lemonade jugs and spending an obscene amount of time in the cheese and kitchenware aisles, this party ambled onwards into a Bath & Body Works.

Bath & Body Works is, if you're not pursuing delectable-yet-manufactured fragrances, an excellent exercise in distinguishing between farce and reality, between satire and truth.

"Lemongrass" and "Lavender" are two tangible scents. They are "things". I can pick up a "lemongrass" and smell it.

Our slippery slope begins at scents like "Rain" and "Tropical". Obviously, "Tropical" is a collection of various "tropical" smells masterfully blended into one fragrant concoction, and "Rain" does, in fact, have the scientifically-proven-and-named smell petrichor. But Bath & Body Works "Rain" does not parallel that of the post-downpour smell of petrichor. Bath & Body Works "Rain" is just sweet. "Rain" is just a name attached to this specific smell.

(See Hayakawa's book Language in Thought and Action.)

Finally, at the bottom of our descent, we find smells such as "Water" and "Canyon". Things that don't really have a smell. But somehow, the geniuses at Bath & Body Works came up with a way to attribute scents to "Water" and "Canyon".

(Again, Hayakawa's Language in Thought and Action.)

But alas. There is no bottom, nor is there a top. There was never a descent to begin with. At Bath & Body Works, the smell of "Water" is as real as the smell of "Lavender". It's all fake chemical fragrances anyway.

And therein lies the farce.

I suppose the wine-taster-like antics that I've seen Bath & Body Works customers do also contribute to this. For instance, when they give you paper to spray with a fragrance to see how it smells, you should probably, you know, spray the paper. However, I got to witness some geniuses spray the air, then wave the paper around in the now-scented air. I commend you, for far too long when I shoved the sprayed paper up my nostrils did I feel the scent was much too bold and unbearable. Now, however, I am fortunate enough to have happened upon superior intellect in action, and now when I shove the Bath & Body Works scent-test strips up my nose, the scent becomes much more bearable.

I don't know. Might as well start holding the scent up to your ear and sampling how it sounds too at that point.

(Yes. Of course I tasted a few scents today.)

I've got gripes with Bath & Body Works and revisiting it today didn't fix any of them. Like, why not just buy normal soap? Why not buy something real? I get that nice smells are nice, but nice smells can also be attained via other means!

Is it too much to ask in today's America that my hand soap fulfill its one job without making my hands smell like "Canyon" afterward? Is it too much to ask that the lavender I smell be from flowers or perhaps even a lovely chap steeping a splendid cup of lavender tea, someone who'll talk to me and hold real conversation instead of smelling of "Lavender"?

…

I wonder what "Pessimism" smells like.

…

Anyway.

Thankfully, after fleeing the stank halls of Bath & Body Works, we went to a few other stores.

And then I got peer pressured into buying a totally radical hat. Sweet!

…

That was about it, I suppose.

A fun trip, no doubt!

But damn. I could go on and on about goddamn Bath & Body Works.

But I won't. Eventually I'd hit a point where it'd stop being funny and true.

And that's a fundamental part of dancing on that line between reality and farce.

…

Bath & Body Works should not be bothering me this much.

…

See you all later, I suppose!

[treasure-goblin]

SUPRISE so I made the realization as to why I've been so unproductive for so long in terms of art/photography/writing after the blog switch and so yeah ha that's nice

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. thinking about true form!sukuna having a huge size kink (+ corruption kink).

word count. 2.6k

note. super self-indulgent. cant rlly blame me for creating this. also do you see those big ass hands in the header i used? yeah.. says enough (this sucks ass)

tags. dom heian era!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut. porn with plot. size kink / size difference (reader gets referred to as ‘short’ & ‘small’). p in v -> unprotected. degradation. corruption kink (reader gets referred to as ‘naive’, 'shy' & innocent’-looking). tummy bulging. loss of virginity mention. hymen breaking mention. cervix fucking, ouch. lots of teasing. tiny bit of choking. tiny mention of blood tasting ? idk. hint at anal / double penetration. dirty talk. sukuna has two of everything btw mehehe. reader get called ‘woman, brat, slut, little'.

sukuna is intrigued by you. he’s always been, since the moment he’s laid his eyes upon you. your loyalty and devotion to him are two aspects that the king of curses likes most about you. .

. . after your innocence.

it nearly irked him. every time he saw you hanging around the estate without a single care in the world. sukuna would attempt to intimidate you with serious threats. he’d loom over your short stature and look down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes. though, none of it seemed to work.

you'd only bow your head at him and apologise if you’ve caused him any possible inconveniences. it annoyed the sorcerer. you weren’t trembling in fear like all the others would — it was like there was nothing going on in that head of yours. especially when you smile at him. which no one actually dares to do.

sukuna could crush you. with no effort. one big hand would be enough to pick your entire body up, lift you in the air and throw you around like a ragdoll. you don’t seem to fear the possibility of that happening, even when being faced with a pissed off sukuna.

it’s truly intriguing and amusing. that’s why sukuna kept you around every day — as a form of entertainment, he called it. one thing led to the other and you eventually ended up as one of his concubines. the king of curses himself decided to grant you that promotion.

why? because not only does your fragile body, reserved and polite personality and innocence secretly fascinate him — it also makes him crave you. crave to shatter that naivety of yours. to take that small body of yours and make it feel what it means to be overpowered by a man twice your size.

sukuna does not regret his decision to make you his concubine. the first night you spent together was one of the best nights he had ever had. in all his many years of living. not a single woman had ever succeeded in blowing his mind when it came to sex.

it was usually boring and repetitive for the sorcerer. he felt nothing for those women he’s had in bed before — it was solely for the fact of satisfying himself. though, that changed on the day you had given him your virginity.

he remembers every detail; from your little noises of both pain and pleasure, your tight and untouched pussy that bled faintly when the fat tip of his lower cock pushed through, your nails that dug into his arms and back, your thighs that he held to your chest, his large hands that could easily wrap around the fat of them, your aching cunt that was left spasming around air as it tried to keep his sticky cum stored in place.

sukuna didn’t think your tears would affect him as much. when he took your virginity and you whimpered in pain — he did feel a twinge of guilt. it was strange; he hadn’t felt that emotion before. he had stopped and wiped your tears away. roughly whispered some words of encouragement too.

he had never done so before. never. he had never told anyone how ‘good’ they were for him. how he’d be ‘careful’ to not make it hurt any more. the king of curses recalls vividly how slow he started with you. slow sex. instead of rough like he’s used to.

sukuna wasn’t chasing after his own pleasure in that moment like he’d usually have. his main priority was to make sure the girl below him was comfortable enough to continue. you’re strange. the things you make him do, say and feel are strange. and yet. . .

it was an amazing night. the best. however sukuna was left behind with an insatiable hunger for you. more, more, more. he can’t grasp it yet; why he longs for you. for those feelings he’s suddenly capable of experiencing during intimate moments.

it’s why he calls for you every night. no other concubine was needed after you were made one. the king of curses couldn’t care less about those other women. they are boring to him.

unlike you. the one he’s sure that he won’t ever get bored of.

“you can take me so well now,” sukuna breathes out. one of his cocks was inches deep inside you, bulbous tip painfully hitting your cervix. over the past few weeks, your body had learnt to adjust to him, your pussy molded to fit the shape of his dick.

sukuna looks down at you and his cocks twitch with the urge to release already. his heavy balls clenching. your fucked out state is adorable. you seemed so.. vulnerable underneath the big man, “what a fragile little thing.”

it almost sounded condescending. degrading. especially with sukuna’s lips being curled up into a mean grin, his sharp canines showing. there was a puddle of your cum forming underneath your hips — staining the sheets that the poor servants have to clean by tomorrow morning.

“p-please, fngh, ‘s too big,” you sputter out. no matter how many times you took sukuna in, your smaller body couldn’t quite fully accommodate to the girth of him. every time he hits your deepest parts, you let out a painful whimper.

sukuna kisses his teeth, though slows his thrusts a bit. the wet sounds of his cum and yours getting pushed in and out of your cunt with each move was too addicting. what sukuna loves most is the view of the skin of your lower abdomen swelling and stretching each time he pushes forward.

“i thought you said you’d take both of my cocks today, yet it seems like you can’t even handle one,” the king of curses sighs whilst belittling you. one set of hands is holding you down by your hips, the other set is fondling your stiff nipples and circling your sensitive clit, “what a pity. a real pity.”

you almost choke on your spit as all your sensitive spots were being fondled. sukuna’s thick fingers leave no place untouched as he increases the tempo again—his cock plunging in and out of your stretched hole. the upper one was twitching, rubbing against your clit and lower abdomen.

sukuna harshly grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him after he hears you apologise for making empty promises. he seems satisfied with you staying so polite. even when he’s practically rearranging your guts. the way you talk through your soft sobs and cries is endearing. makes him grin wickedly.

“i don’t want to break my favourite little concubine yet, you see,” sukuna continues. he lets out a grunt of pleasure when your pussy clenches around his thick cock. no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you still remain as tight as the first time.

he takes in a deep breath. he’s trying his best not to pound you into the mattress. he’d fold you in half and probably break you like the fragile thing you are. he could snap you like a twig if he wasn’t careful, “. . .but you’re making it very difficult for me.”

you respond by apologising again. oh, how cute it was to see you babble and make up excuses. sukuna grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he resists the urge to go harder on you. you’re already squirming and moaning loudly just because he’s fucking you hard and deep—bruising your cervix and forcing your walls to open up to him.

“‘m sorry, wanna take both.” you hiccup and sniffle. tears ran down your cheeks from overstimulation. it felt so good yet so painful to be taken by the person you admire most. you didn’t want to displease him, so you uttered those hopeless yet needy sentences again.

sukuna stops his movements when you weakly ask him to use both of his cocks on you. he scoffs, not knowing where you gained the confidence from. he pulls out of your dripping cunt, leaving a trail of cum connecting both your genitalia.

“‘wanna take both,’ she says,” sukuna mocks you under his breath. it’s getting worse; he’s nearing the point of no return. especially with your desperate whines that were like music to his ears, “you’ll break, woman.”

two of his hands move to stroke along his lengths, smearing the mixture of body fluids all over them. his eyes glare down at your small form—already fucked out, yet aching to continue. needing the full experience for once.

you always turn from a shy girl to a complete slut whenever he has you in bed. sukuna loves it.

“i want to try at the very least,” you mutter. it’s true that you’re exhausted. you’re catching your breath now that you got the chance, tired eyes glancing up at sukuna’s enormous stature between your legs, his defined muscles and the tattoos on them glistening under the faint light of the oil lamp.

it got your pussy throbbing and clamping down around air. you felt a bit light headed and your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes glazed over as you try to seem determined. but your body was tired.

“yeah? how. . . cute,” sukuna grins. he knows you can’t. not today at least. he doesn’t mind if you aren’t capable of taking him fully since you’ve already pleased him well enough for now. though, he still can’t help but tease you—make it seem like he’s going to give you what you want, “all right. don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

your eyes widen and your fingers curl around the silky bedsheets beneath you in anticipation. your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch sukuna pump his two cocks a bit faster, squeezing the base a bit, leaking some pre.

it’s all just for show.

“i’m not stopping. even if you scream.” the king of curses warns you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. you gulp at the terrifying aura sukuna was emitting. one of his tips teases your entrance whilst the other probes and circles around your anus.

he threatens you again, testing if you’ll back down, “last chance. i’m not pulling out once i’m in, do y’hear me?”

you keep being stubborn until the very last second. sukuna’s deep voice that shook you to your core was not enough to make you change your mind. you were so desperate to fulfill his every need and make sure that he was satisfied. it made you the perfect woman in his eyes.

the king of curses is completely amused. he decides to take it up a notch. he pushes his lower cock against the tight ring of muscles, pressing and nearly allowing the tip to move in. the sudden increase in pressure is torturous. you surely wouldn’t be able to withstand the entire thing.

“w-wait!” you squeal in surprise and pain. the sting you felt made you snap back into reality. it’s when you realised that maybe you needed more time and experience to take both of sukuna’s dicks. you squirm your hips away, “can’t. i can’t.. hurts too much.”

sukuna nearly rolls his eyes once you finally give in. he shakes his head with a sigh, feigning disapproval and annoyance. he pulls his entire body away from yours—a ominous shadow casted over his eyes. it makes you think that he’s pissed off at you; for being unable to please him.

you panic a little. even if you are sure sukuna wouldn’t ever hurt you. you know he favours you over the other concubines. you don’t want to lose that position.

“i’m sorry.” you apologise before the sorcerer could say anything. he lets out a sharp breath, rough hands back on your body, kneading your flesh gently yet firmly. his eyes take in the view of you trembling.

it’s unreal. you are half his size—completely vulnerable underneath him. he’d normally call people like you weak and useless. wouldn’t feel a thing for them. but your naked body below his is a sight he wishes to see every night.

it turns sukuna on so much. the fact that you are helpless and don’t complain when you’re struggling to take one of his cocks gets him going each time.

“tsk. what’d i tell you?” sukuna grumbles. he slaps his lower cock firmly against your clit. your body responds by closing your thighs together, though the king of curses pries them apart again, “stop overestimating yourself, brat.”

he isn’t actually mad. it was expected—of course you couldn’t take both at once. he didn’t even prep your other hole enough. plus you are clearly still exhausted from the previous rounds. sukuna just likes to. . . test and take advantage of your devotion to him. your obedience and desires to please him.

it’s fascinating to see you squirm and apologise in that whiny voice of yours. it makes him grin from ear to ear. and it keeps things fun.

before you could mutter excuses again, sukuna stops you by leaning in. just when you thought you’d finally get to kiss him, he goes to bite down on your bottom lip. a moan slips out of your mouth which only spurs him on to bite down harder.

you could feel the devilish smirk on sukuna against your lip. his wet tongue cleans up the tiny drop of blood that escaped the wound. he lets out a low hum in approval at the taste. delicious as always.

“now, how should i punish my little concubine for being unable to keep her word?” sukuna whispers in a serious tone. it sends shivers down your spine, his hot breath traveling from your jaw to your right ear. he slowly licks your earlobe, “what do you say? any ideas?”

the tension in the room was palpable. your heart was stammering in your throat from the proximity between the two of you. you gather the courage to answer as sukuna’s fingers curl around your neck, squeezing your throat as if forcing the answer out of you.

“i-i’ll do anything, sir.” you reply through a shaky breath. the king of curses pulls back after he’s got a response from you. your eyes meet his and that’s when you know that you’ve either greatly pleased him or have given him the chance to go all out on you.

it’s probably both.

“anything, you say?” sukuna repeats slowly. without a warning, he effortlessly flips you over on your stomach, a set of hands pulling your ass up by your hips whilst the other set holds your upper body down on the mattress.

a harsh grip on the back of your head results into you whimpering. your face was mushed into a pillow, almost leaving no place to breathe. your back is placed in the perfect arch with your plump ass facing up. it’s one of sukuna’s favourite positions to do with you — especially because it makes you seem smaller than you already are.

“heh. i’ll make you regret saying that.” sukuna chuckles. a low, evil and wicked chuckle. that’s enough to make you realise that he was not going easy on you. your submission had greatly impressed the king of curses and he's taking advantage of it. again.

what would come next could be a reward for that said submission. he’s going to fuck your brains out and make you forget about everything else except for his dick. a night you won’t ever forget as long as you live—that’s a possibility.

or perhaps you’re going to be crying and begging him to go easy on you. a punishment for not being able to keep your promise. that could also happen.

anyway, you’re about to find out which one it is.