#and i would encourage them and tell them if its what you want and it would make you happy then it will always suit you and look good

[chibinasuu]

My Valentine | Killer x Reader

Summary: You got a mysterious note asking you to be their Valentine Tags: sfw, fluff, confession, no use of y/n, GN but written with F!reader in mind, reader wears lipstick (as many kid pirates do, of course)

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”

Your face burned in embarrassment at Kid’s boisterous laughter. 

“Well, if I had a lover,” Wire interjected, “I sure wouldn’t need a whole day dedicated to proving how much I love them. I’ll simply show them every single day.”

Wire’s unexpectedly sweet words prompted Kid to fake-gag, while you groaned frustratedly, “The point is not to prove your love! It’s a day to celebrate love.” 

“Hmm,” Kid brought a finger to his chin, pretending like he was deep in thought, “Nah, I don’t get it.”

“You’re impossible,” You sighed, “We’re pirates, our days are full of violence and fights. Is it so bad to want some romance once in a while?”

“Ugh, when did you become such a sap?”

You gritted your teeth, “Well, you’ve always been an asshole, so I’m not surprised that you don’t understand!”

You flipped Kid off and stalked towards your cabin. 

Your face immediately found your pillow, your screams of frustration muffled in the soft fabric. Of course, your emotionally-stunted Captain wouldn’t understand. It was stupid of you to even talk about Valentine’s Day to Kid, of all people.

Warmth rose to your cheeks as the image of a certain blond unwittingly floated to the forefront of your mind. 

Now, he would understand. 

You knew that he would listen to all of your blabbering, no matter the topic, even if it was something as “ridiculous” as a Day of Love tradition from your home island.

Despite his covered face, you would know that he was hanging on to your every word from the way he would offer soft hums and small nods as you talked. 

You would know that he was listening attentively from the way he would ask questions, encouraging you to tell him more about whatever it was that you were chattering about.

Without intending to, a deep sleep eventually claimed you, bringing dreams filled with manes of luscious yellow hair and fleeting stripes of blue and white.

The sun had nearly completed its descent when you finally woke up from your unplanned nap.

You were groggily stretching your arms above your head when your gaze fell on a small note on the floor of your cabin, which appeared to have been slid from underneath your door. 

You padded over and picked the paper up curiously. A gasp left your lips when you saw what was written on it in slanted handwriting. 

Will you be my Valentine? 

Kitchen. 7 pm. Wear something nice.

You couldn’t deny that your heart started to beat a little faster at the invitation, but the rational part of your brain told your heart that something was weird about this.

As far as you knew, only two other people on this ship knew that today was Valentine’s Day, and by process of elimination, you came to the conclusion that this must be your idiot Captain messing with you. 

Who else would it be from?

The brief giddiness you felt was completely overtaken by a raging annoyance. Your fist clenched so tightly that it creased the little note, and you stormed out of your room to confront the redhead.  

“Kid!” You yelled as you burst into the kitchen, “I swear whatever cruel joke you’re playing here–“

You stopped in your tracks. 

It wasn’t your Captain waiting for you in the kitchen.

“Killer?”

The Massacre Soldier – clad in an apron – had his hands frozen midway through putting a lasagna-filled baking dish into the oven. 

“Hi.” He said awkwardly, “It’s, uh, not 7 pm yet.”

You could only stare at him as the gears in your head turned rapidly, “The note… it was you?”

Killer tried not to sound dejected when he replied, “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No! I thought– Well, um,” You continued to babble incoherently, taken aback that the person you had hoped for, but certainly not expected, was the one who wrote the note all along. 

Killer closed the oven door, fumbling a bit as he took off his mitts and quickly set the timer. He reached for something on the far side of the dining table – something that escaped your notice due to your surprise at this whole situation. 

“For you.”

Your breath hitched as he handed you a simple box tied with a red ribbon. 

“Dinner’s not ready yet, but these are, so…”

You felt Killer’s eyes following your every move through his mask, observing your reaction silently. 

You open the box to reveal a row of chocolate truffles, evenly dusted with dark cocoa powder. The shapes were a little bit lumpy, telling you that the sweet treats were likely handmade by Killer himself. 

A surge of joy overflowed through you, filling your body with a delicious warmth. How did he know that chocolates were such a fundamental part of Valentine’s Day in your hometown? You couldn’t believe this was happening.

And maybe you shouldn’t believe it.

Your brain cruelly shattered the euphoria that you were feeling. 

Right. Killer couldn’t have known about Valentine’s Day. Did Kid or Wire tell him? 

Was this some kind of sick prank that the three of them were playing on you? 

Or did he overhear your conversation and felt sorry that you didn’t have someone to spend this day with?

You couldn’t bear any of those thoughts being true, but you couldn’t really think up another explanation for this. Someone like Killer couldn’t possibly want to do anything remotely romantic for someone like you… right?

“Kil, I… I really appreciate this,” you finally said, “But I swear if you’re just doing this out of pity, or, or for a joke, then–”

“Pity? A joke?” Killer spitted out, “Where did that come from? What in the four goddamn blues are you talking about?”

He sounded legitimately confused, which in turn, made you confused.

With your face buried in your hands, you finally told him about your earlier conversation with Kid and Wire. When you were done explaining, Killer simply laughed out loud at your misguided suspicions, “You got it completely wrong.”

“Well, how did you know about Valentine’s Day, then?” You grumbled defensively, “Kid didn’t, so obviously the holiday is not celebrated on Kutsukku Island.”

Killer scratched the back of his neck bashfully. 

“I, uh, accidentally got a peek at your calendar a while ago.” He admitted, “I was looking for you, and your door was open, but you weren’t in your room.”

Your face burned, remembering that you had circled today’s date and wrote ‘Valentine’s Day’ in bold letters, with a bunch of little hearts drawn around it in red ink, “Oh.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.”

Killer shrugged before continuing, “Obviously, I got curious. So, on the next island we docked at, I went to the library and did a little research.”

A smile crept up your face at the image of your hunk of a Commander, hunched over in the library with a book.

“Did you know Valentine’s Day is not only celebrated on your home island? Quite a lot of places in the Four Blues and the Grand Line celebrate it too.” 

You cocked your head, partly out of interest at the fact he just told you, partly out of amusement that he really took the time to read up on the holiday, just because of some little hearts on your calendar. And partly out of surprise too – you had never seen the Massacre Soldier act as nervous as he did now.

His hand started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he droned on and on, “The holiday’s known by different names, of course, and there are a lot of different traditions involved, but the consensus seems to be that it’s the perfect day to celebrate love with your partners.”

He took a shaky breath, and hesitantly, in a voice so soft you thought you were imagining it, he said, “And that it’s also a perfect day to… confess your feelings.”

It took more than a few seconds for his words to sink in. 

Your eyes widened like saucers when they finally did.

“…You have feelings for me?” You sputtered incredulously, “Why?”

Killer chuckled at the dumbstruck expression on your face, “Why would I not?” 

You gulped as his hand reached out to brush his fingers upon your hair, grazing your ear in the process, “You’re smart, funny, beautiful, brave. You never take shit from anyone. You take care of me and the crew a lot. I love talking and spending time with you. You’re the most wonderful person I know.”

His hands gripped your shoulders, as if begging you to see yourself the way he saw you.

“How could I not fall for you?”

You couldn’t see his face, but the sincerity in his voice alone was enough to choke you up.

You were speechless, so you just stood there with your mouth slightly gaping, staring in disbelief at the man you have had feelings for forever admitting that those feelings were mutual. 

As your stunned silence went on, Killer’s hands slackened from their hold on your shoulders, and he took a step back, mistakenly taking your reaction as rejection.

In a surge of panic, and with a boldness that came out of nowhere, you grabbed his metal-clad face and pulled him back towards you, planting a kiss right where his lips would be. 

You pulled away just as quickly, letting out an embarrassed chuckle when you saw that your lipstick had left a little kiss mark on his helmet. Your hand flew to the spot, but Killer caught it before your fingers could wipe the stain off.

“Killer, I–“

“If you want to kiss me,” His voice somehow sounded lower than it was a minute ago, “You better do it properly.”

And with that, he brought your hands to the sides of his head, guiding them in lifting the helmet off.

Your heartbeat quickened to a million beats per minute as Killer’s face was slowly revealed to you. 

First his goatee, then his purple-stained lips, his pointed nose. 

Killer shook his blond mane and set the helmet aside before finally meeting your gaze.

“Kil…” You reached out as if in a trance and gently caressed his cheek, gasping at the sight of his strikingly blue eyes, “You’re so beautiful.”

It admittedly made you giddy that you had now become one of the only few select people that Killer chose to show his face to.

Hell, if the world knew what he looked like underneath that mask, you were sure that a gaggle of women and men would chase him down to the ends of the Grand Line.

Killer grabbed your waist and stepped closer to you, leaving a mere inch between your chests. Both of your hearts were thumping so loudly that it was a miracle that the other couldn’t hear it.

He leaned in ever so slowly… then stopped, leaving it up to you to close the gap. 

You tentatively brushed your lips against his, and it felt like sparks had burst all over your chest, leaving tingles everywhere. You pressed your lips to his once more, a little bit firmer this time.

Killer couldn’t hold back any longer and tugged your body flush with his. His hand traveled to the back of your head, pulling you into a deeper kiss.

Your knees felt like jelly, and you would’ve been sprawled on the floor if it wasn’t for Killer’s steady arms holding you up. 

You could taste a hint of chocolate on his tongue – he must’ve spent so much time taste-testing to make the perfect batch of chocolates for you.

Both of you couldn’t get enough of each other now that you had gotten a taste, but of course, you were only humans, so you finally parted to properly get some air into your lungs.

Killer touched his forehead to yours and grinned, still slightly out of breath, “So, does this mean you’re my Valentine?”

“Yes, you big oaf.” You laughed, circling your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace, “This year and the next, and for as long as you want me.”

The kitchen of the Victoria Punk never felt as warm as it was now, with you finally wrapped around Killer’s arms. A delicious aroma wafted from the oven, a reminder that a lovely meal for two was still waiting for you – and that your night had barely started. 

You wished it would never end.

a/n: i almost didn't finish this on time askdjksjdk i kept procrastinating because i didn’t quite know how i wanted to write killer, but i hope i did him justice! hope you enjoyed this little valentine treat, and i hope you're all having a great valentine's day, whether you're spending it with your partner, your friends, your family, or by yourself. have some chocolate and flowers from me 🍫💐

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Love on the brain chapter 4

Master List

CW: Please check the master list. This chapter alludes to child sexual abuse. Nothing is graphic in detail.

You had spent the better part of your day out at your son's soccer game. You are pleasantly surprised that your four neighbors showed up to cheer him on. All of them are incredibly involved with watching the game, as if it were a professional game. Johnny and Kyle had been pacing up and down the field following the game, encouraging Jabari and his teammates. For some odd reason, you found it incredibly nice that John had made it his business to chat with the other fathers as if he's always been a part of the group. Chatting away about whatever it is that men talk about, household projects, work (things he could share), being invited to help with the team cook out for Sunday to celebrate getting into the playoffs. You notice that he doesn't correct people when they compliment him on how his boy (and despite Jabari looking nothing like John) is well adjusted and a good team sport, always willingly leading others effortlessly. He certainly doesn't correct anyone when they say that his little girl Jayla is a quiet and well-behaved girl. They find it cute that she clings to his hand. She swings from his arm, pulls at his hands, and is just generally using him to stim and keep occupied because her twin isn't paying her dust at the moment.

The reason her twin is paying her dust is because Jada has made it her mission to play out in the farther fields with Simon. She's got her baby Anni with them, and she's fussing about Simon making sure his little flower crown is on right. She smiles at him and explains that Anni has been asking about him, wondering when the next time he could keep her for a sleepover.

“Wouldn' ya want Anni to stay with you?” Simon asks her, “I'm sure she hates being away from ya.” He's careful with how he arranges the doll's little flower crown on its head. Truthfully, never in a million years did he think he would be playing dolls or be within range of children again. Not since his brother and his family. He feels protective of this little girl and her twin and her older brother.

When Price had told him that the neighbor next door was in trouble, her husband beating her black and blue, Simon could feel ‘Ghost’ slipping to the front that night. Before they even knocked on the front door, they could hear the shouts of bloody murder coming from the woman. He was so angry, absolutely seething with rage. He had to keep himself calm so he wouldn't kill the bastard when he stepped out onto the front porch after Price flashed his gun.

The coward didn't even look at or speak to him.

“No.” Jada says clear as day, “Anni prefers to stay at other people's house so that way she knows she's safe.” She is digging through her pink backpack, and finally, she pulls out what she is looking for. It's a little charm bracelet, and she offers it to Simon. “It matches my bracelet. See, it says TTC. It stands for The Tea Club.”

“Well.” Simon takes the dainty pink and purple bracelet with the little white letters and flowers, “you do make some of the best tea.” He tries not to dwell on the ‘She knows she's safe part’ of the conversation. Still, something in his gut tells him he needs to ask. He's just never been good with being tactful, and he feels like he should be gentle with his questions.

“Jada…” He takes a deep breath, “have things been okay since your father has been home?”

She looks up at him and purses her lips. It's clear that she is thinking, not entirely sure what to say for the conversation. She turns towards the field as the sidelines erupt into cheers over the game. Then slowly she turns and looks back at Simon, “I…I don't know Mr. Simon. Mom and Dad fought last time…when I asked Dad why, he didn't say anything and told me that it was all fine.” She sniffles a bit, “I try not to let Anni or even Jayla and Jabari know how upset it makes me, especially Mom.” She rubs at her eyes, trying to make her tears go away. “Sometimes he gets mad at me when I don't behave, and he spanks me if I cry, but sometimes I cry, and I can't help it.”

Simon feels his heart drop in his stomach. He remembers the look on your face when you admitted that you don't spank your children. Why would you if the fucker you're married to hits you? This though, seeing Jada cry and sniffle about spankings and crying didn't seem right. His throat felt dry and he also felt like he was going to murder. “Why would he spank you for crying?”

“I don't know Mr.Simon, sometimes his hugs hurt, and I cry.”

You were chatting with another one of the parents, taking note of what you were supposed to bring to Sunday's cookout. The game is in its final moments, Jabari's team is clearly going to win. Your eyes are covered by two sets of hands, a broad chest pressed against your back and kiss pressed to your cheek. You know instantly that it's Kenny, even more so. You are surprised that he even showed up to the match. “Kenny, glad you made it.” You turn to face your husband, and he is smiling at you. He's handsome right now, the cool suave man that swept you off your feet eleven years ago. He's sober, polite, bright, and sweet.

“Yes, I told you I would show up for his game. Is his team winning?” He says as he presses a kiss to your head.

“They most certainly are.” You say and wiggle out of his grip. Your attention goes back to watching the game, but you do notice how Kenny tenses up. “What's wrong now?”

“Why are the neighbors here?” He's glaring at where John is, Jayla is perched on his shoulders. John is still chatting with a group of parents. “And why's he got my daughter with him?”

You roll your eyes, “Kenny, be nice, please. The kids happened to like them, and Jabari invited them to watch the game.”

The whistle for the game to end is blown by the ref, and your son's team is jumping about in celebration. Kenny watches as his son runs up to Johnny and Kyle and is immediately hoisted up onto Johnny's shoulders. The irritation can be felt radiating off of him in droves. You sigh and give him a side eye, a silent plea for him to behave, don't embarrass you, and please for the love of God be cordial. You make your way over to the crowd of cheering families, and when you get close to Johnny and Jabari, you lean up and kiss your son on the cheek as he leans down.

“I scored the last goal, mom!” Jabari is sweaty, hyper, and loud. His smile is so big it stretches his face. Brown eyes sparkling in the daylight, he is your baby, and you feel like you're staring into the sun right now. He looks and sees his dad, and his smile falters a bit but stays big. “Dad, you made it!”

Kenny raises an eyebrow but strategically avoids the glare that Johnny sends him. He holds his arms out for his son. It can be written off as Jabari being careful of heights, but he eventually goes to his dad. “Good game sport.” He ruffles his hair, “you really gave them a run for their money.”

“Thanks Dad.” Jabari laughs and hugs his waist, then he lets go, “Mom, can we cut the strawberry cake when we get home?”

“You made that cake?” Kenny says, his brows drawn up in a bit of disgust, “You know I don't like that sugary mess.”

You look over at him, ready to defend the celebratory treat. Jabari had been asking for weeks, and you finally had squirreled away enough spare change for the cake. You open your mouth to say yes, but Johnny beats you to it.

“Good thing it ain't fa ye mate.” His blue eyes aren't welcoming. They are hardly the same pretty light shade that you've come to know. Kyle is standing beside him, a strained but polite smile on his face. You notice how his fingers flex, hand opening and closing. There's tension between the three men. The chatter of everyone else sorta fades from you as you anticipate some form of violence.

“Everything okay?” John comes to the rescue. He somehow appears out of thin air, and Johnny and Kyle relax. Their metaphorical hackles lower. John has Jayla tucked under his arm as if she's a bag of potatoes. She really is just swinging limply.

Jayla lifts her head up and smiles, “Hello.” Her greeting almost missed amongst all the noise. Johnny and Kyle dutifully greet her with smiles.

“Yeah. Good to see you, Price.” Kenny says, but it's more like a growl.

“Miss Bonnie was just inviting us over for cake. I was thinking we could all get together and have dinner.” Johnny looks at you with the tilt of his head.

“Oh! Can we get sushi?” Jabari jumps up and down, “pleaseeee” He begs.

“No-” Kenny starts.

“Sure” you say at the same time. Both of you look at each other. And it's not lost on you that he doesn't like sushi. He could never stand the food, but Jabari does, and he rarely gets it. It's a mini stand-off before Kenny sighs.

“I spoil you all too much. Let's get out of here.” He says and heads off to the car.

You ignore the eye rolls from both Kyle and Johnny. “You guys don't have to have dinner with us. Kenny can be kinda tense.”

“Nonsense. Jabari wants us there, right soldier?” John says with a shrug.

“Yeah Mr.Price, I do!” He stops jumping about and looks around, “Where's Jada?”

This also makes you look around, but you spot her and Simon coming in from the unused field. He's got her in his arms, holding her protectively, her little pink backpack slung over his shoulder. Her baby is crushed between her body and his, her face hidden in the crook of his neck. She clings to him, shaking just a bit, and you feel your heart ricochet between your throat and stomach.

“Baby what's wrong?” You're rushing over to them and trying to peer at her face. Simon stops you, though, and he shakes his head no. You're a bit indignant because how dare he.

Simon pulls you close to him, and he leans down to your ear, “She, her sister, and brother can ride home with me and John. You ride home with Kyle and Johnny.”

“What why?” You ask, and there's panic in your voice, “what happened to my baby? What did you do to her?” You go to take her, but Jada only clings to Simon more. She sniffles and won't look at you.

“Listen to me and trust me, yeah.” He stares deep into your eyes. There's something akin to restrained rage in those honey brown eyes. He, too, is shaking now that you've noticed. John approaches the three of you with concern on his face. It's like he can sniff out distress and discomfort. Simon tells him the game plan for the ride home, and John doesn't question it.

You feel like you're going to throw up.

You arrive home, confused and worried sick. You find it odd that you trust Simon implicitly along with the rest of your neighbors. You chalk it up to them, saving you from Kenny and being genuinely nice to your children. The way they just allow the three of them to clamber and hold onto them. You notice how the four of them seem interested in their well-being. You, Johnny, and Kyle arrive at your homes, and you spot your husband's car in the driveway. But before you can get out of the passenger seat, John is approaching the car. He looks livid, his face red with anger. You're halfway out of the car when he kneels down in front of you. His hand on your knees, blue eyes searching yours for a moment.

“Sweetheart…I'm gonna tell you something. And you have to stay calm.” His voice is leveled. It doesn't match the urgency of the moment.

“I just want to get Jada and see what's wrong.” You whisper. Your stomach is in knots as it waits for something, anything to happen.

“Soap and Gaz go inside and keep him from committing murder.” John barks at the other two. You think you hear in the distance their front door slam shut.

Your eyes snap to your neighbor's house, and you see Simon, on the porch, a handgun in his grip. Your body moves on its own, and you're pushing for John to let go of you. “Move John, I need to get my children.” There's a swell in the air.

“Sweetheart, has Jada ever come to you about anything inappropriate?” John isn't budging. He keeps his hands on your legs so you can't leave the car. There's shouting in the background, Kyle is trying his best to diffuse Simon.

“John- no- I don't-” It's like your mind is running on dial-up. Everything is slowed down, and it's like a fresh new Hell opened up and swallowed you.

“Jada confided in Simon that her father has been touching her.”

You're not too sure what happens after that. It's all static, really. Slow motion. The sky is too bright. The air is too cold. John's hands feel grounding, and they also feel scorching. You aren't sure if you want to scream or not. Maybe you do scream. Maybe part of you feels like if you march into your home and bury your teeth into Kenny's neck, rip out his throat, you can right every wrong that led you to this moment. Spill his blood in penance for all the hurt he's caused your children. You'd also, in the same breath, cut out your heart. You don't deserve to live, especially when you are so blind.

Your mind is racing back to every little thing that Jada has said or imitated. Her idea of ‘me time’, her casual statements about spanking. Anything you can think of, every interaction, comes screeching to the forefront of your mind. It hurts. How are you even a mother? You were so worried about your husband hitting you, beating you and children to death, you never once entertained the idea of him killing your children in this sense.

Good God. Nights that you've been too tired to fight him off and blacked out from pain. Has he done things to them then? What about when you've left him alone with any of them. Jabari, now that you think about it, always hated being left alone with his father. He's shied away from his touches and hugs.

“Sweetheart?” John brushes away the tears from your face.

“Get me in the house John…” It's not really your voice that's speaking. It's too vacant. “Take my keys.” You hand him your house keys, “throw any and everything into a few bags. If I go in there, I'll kill him.”

He does as you say and steadies you. When you're in their house, you see Jabari talking with Kyle and Johnny, talking to Jayla. Simon is nowhere to be seen, but a part of the sectional is pushed against the basement door. Jada is sitting in the quiet room that belongs to Simon. He's in there with her, but he's on his knees. Holding her hands between hers, whispering something to her. She's got tear tracks on her face, and when she glances up at you, she launches herself into your arms. She's sobbing, saying sorry, she didn't know it was wrong.

You only shush her and kiss her head. You are doing your best not to bolt next door and kill the bastard.

a.n: so everyone take care of yourselves. This was heavy. There will be immediate consequences in the next chapter. Just you wait.

Tag list: @leahnicole1219 @uraeus56 @royalty-cashinout @chickennuggetuwu @gazsluckyhat @justanerd1 @the-monster-under-the-bed @curiouslittleprincess @flairenragebelmont

[jd-loves-fiction]

Did I say 2 reqs, I meant 3. This is gonna be a more specific one

You already know. Boothill, Gallagher, Blade, Aventurine and Ratio meeting reader of another universe and this reader almost the complete opposite of the one from their world with a different story and different circumstances.

(For more context HSR universe reader is more child-like, reckless, clearly teen aged, seeking parental validation a lot, Impulsive and just over all immature as expected from a kid.

Meanwhile this other universe reader is the same age but they are a lot more responsible, mature, basically parents the people around them, grumpy but caring (basically if you mixed Blade and Ratio personality-wise))

🌑it never eeeenndsss!! 😭(havin the time of my life) ALSO CAN YOU TELL I HAVE FAVORITES :D (maybe i should write a character study thing with Ratio too.... i like him a lot more than i realized)

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Eerie as hell, very freaked out

Like, who is this child and why do they look like you??

Obviously likes your normal self better, OBVIOUSLY

This is just weird :( you should be acting like a kid, because that's what you are, not... whatever this is

Unsettled through every enteraction with this other version of yourself, always a little distant - just can't get used to the change

Once its all over, he let's you get away with a lot more than usual (which was already a lot) and scolds you a lot less

✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦

Feels a strange sort of longing - this is what you could've been like

He sees it as the version of you, you should've turned into if you'd have a relatively pain-free life

If makes him ache in a way he hasn't been able to process yet

Lingers a lot on the possibilities - would you have never met him like this? Would that have been better for you?

Slips into self-deprication alarmingly quickly

Once it's over, he turns very introspective for a few days after

Before returning to his quiet, grumpy self, only change being he tries to make your life a little easier in all the subtle ways he can

✦ 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 ✦

Definitely see the Dr. Ratio things and it freaks him out a little

He has to deal with one doctor, and now there's two?? (affectionate)

Isn't entirely pleased with the change - you're a lot less like him this was and he doesn't like it

Aven likes being able to relate to you and connect to you though your similarities (even if most of the things you have in common are undoubtedly negative)

Your similarities also help him lead you away from the worst stuff he's experienced walking the same path as you - like this though? He can't lead you, he doesn't know how and therefore feels as if he can't protect you

Spoils you like hell once the situation is solved, buying you anything you want and encouraging your childishness and recklessness - definitely not healthy, but he likes you better when you're similar

Totally has nothing to do with him seeing his younger self in you and wanting to vicariously heal himself through healing you oh my god this man needs so much therapy

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Appreciates the help? but is conflicted about the whole thing

Sure, you're being a lot more helpful than usual (or this version of you is, rather) and more well behaved on top of that, and he appreciates that BUT it's weird

It's just weird - you're a kid. You're supposed to act like him, you don't need to be good and helpful for him to enjoy having you around

Subtly urges this other version of yourself to relax a little and let loose, more so just to see if they would - they don't. He's quite surprised by it

He though they would when given the chance, that this serious version of yourself was just acting this way becasue they had to and would revert to your normal way of acting when given the chance

The thought that the you he knows isn't necessarily the you, you were meant to be is troubling

The following days, he has a troubled look in his eye but brushes you off when you try to pry

✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦

It's like looking into a mirror...... he's not a fan

Not in a self-centered 'I'm the only one who can act like that' kind of way, more so in 'why the hell is a kid acting like this' kind of way

Despite what some people would have you believe, Dr. Ratio is actually incrediby caring - he's just on the spectrum (that part is headcanon but tale as old as time)

His life's mission is to spread his knowledge to everyone isntead of monopolising it like the Genius Society is doing

So in a way, it's good to see you follow some of his lessons and act like he sometimes suggests you do

But it feels so damn wrong it just doesn't sit right with him

He wants you to grow to appreciate his lessons when the time is right and you're grown enough to understand them yourself

This just feels like you skipped that teenage rebellion stage that he feels is important to go through

Plus, the slight chip on his shoulder he still carries from being rejected by the Genius Society tells him, the world doesn't need more Ratio's (🥺)

Strangely encourages your misbehavior in the days to come, turns a blind eye to your troublemaking and lightens up on the lessons

The whole ordeal has him appreciating the teenage part of development more than before

AHEM - Valentine event here ;)

[dandelion-wings]

I have no certainty that this will ever be a full fic, but I was thinking about it at the barn today and got home and promptly stuck this in a doc and wrote a thousand unconnected words, so while we're definitely too close to this year's Windblume, maybe this will be like so many of my holiday fics and I'll hit the holiday next year. XD We'll see!

In the meantime, I'm wondering how long I can drag the running joke of Diluc and Jean's differing priorities out before it gets stale:

"I've ordered the roses," Diluc tells her. "I indicated that it was urgent, so they should arrive the day after tomorrow, before the end of Windblume." "Thank you," Jean says, smiling at him in gratitude and relief. She can put her Windblume together without them if necessary, but she's become attached to the symbolism. She really does feel freest in Lisa's company, and she wants Lisa to know. "On the other subject, have you consulted Doctor Baizhu about your heart problem? He's a noted physician in Liyue Harbor, and his medication formula has done wonders for Tunner's condition." "I've heard of him. I think Barbara may have, but I don't think anything came of it." Diluc frowns. "He didn't even send a trial prescription?" "Well, there was something Barbara started me on afterwards, but it was making me oversleep in the mornings, so I discontinued it." "She was waking up at five instead of four," Kaeya unnecessarily interjects. "Sometimes even six. Can you *imagine*, Diluc? Not waking up until almost dawn? Unacceptable for our Acting Grand Master." Jean shakes her head at them both. She doesn't appreciate Kaeya encouraging Diluc's fixation. He knows full well that it isn't as significant as Diluc seems determined to make it, and how necessary sticking with her schedule is during the Grand Master's absence. She doesn't appreciate Diluc's conviction that she's deathly ill just because she's had a few small incidents, either. "It was a serious lapse, not a subject for mockery. Before you go, I know you're busy, but... you did say you'd be willing to read a draft of my Windblume. I would value your comments." "I did," Diluc says, his frown softening. "It sounds as if I have to go to the Cathedral this afternoon, but I'll take it with me and have it back to you by evening with my notes." "Thank you," Jean says again, and swallows her trepidation--Diluc, of all people, won't mock her for its failings--as she hands him the folded page.

...Though since this fic is hugely self-indulgent already (being, y'know, goofy to the point of OOC), the answer may be "just drag it out until I stop thinking it's funny, and never mind what the readers think." XD

Working on a couple of whump prompts now (I phone-wrote the starts of several during the past week between barn chaos, but this is literally the first day I've had time to sit at a computer for more than half an hour since), but I read this Reddit post this morning and couldn't resist the urge to riff a little, so let's call this a warmup:

"...and the last time I passed out, I woke up with my head in her lap and her favorite blanket over me. She was stroking my hair, and when I looked up, she called me 'dear,'" Jean explains. "Then, this Windblume... don't you think it seems suggestive? But Lisa is so flirtatious with everyone, I really can't be sure." Kaeya seems to be choking on his drink. "The *last time* you passed out?" Diluc repeats, as if he hasn't heard all the rest of her list at all.

"The time before that, I wasn't unconscious for more than a few seconds, but the moment I sat up she got me a pillow and made me lie back down, then sat with me and held my hand until Barbara arrived. I had hit my head quite hard on the floor, though, so that may have just been a reasonable precaution."

Lisa's hand had been soft, and warm, and so gentle around hers. She'd stroked the back of Jean's hand with her thumb, just the slightest buzz of static raised by the motion, but that buzz had seemed to go all through Jean and flutter in her stomach.

Diluc's eyes go wide. "When did you hit your head?"

"Oh, that was shortly after Stormterror appeared. I wasn't truly hurt. The double vision passed within a few days," Jean says, waving his worry away. "Though you're right, I'm afraid. That could have simply been concern, and not anything else. I wouldn't be thinking more of it at all if it wasn't for this Windblume. I thought she would simply give me some flowers, and perhaps more of the perfume she's been making for me. I hadn't even remembered that we talked about this book of poetry. I'm sure it wasn't so difficult to find for her as it was for me, since she *did* find it-"

"Oh, no, she put plenty of work in," Kaeya, apparently recovered from his coughing fit, tells her. "Don't you recall that two-week vacation she took last month?"

"Oh, *no*. She told me she had important personal affairs to take care of. I hope looking for the book didn't cut into them."

Kaeya, in the middle of a long, slow sip of wine, swallows wrong *again*. This time Jean has to stand up from her chair and go over to thump him on the back, and Diluc rises, takes his wineglass away, and comes back from the bar with a glass of water that he sets firmly in front of him.

When Kaeya isn't wheezing anymore, Jean sits back down. "I trust the two of you to tell me if I'm only imagining things. You did when I had that terrible crush on the Grand Master as a teenager. Do you think there's any chance Lisa feels fondly towards me?"

"It seems very possible," Diluc tells her, with a seriousness that assures her that he has, in fact, been listening to her list, despite his apparent distraction. "Have you given her a Windblume in return yet? You may be able to deduce more from her response."

Kaeya's eyes light up. "Diluc, I never expected such an entertaining idea from *you*. Now, Jean, make sure you don't make your poem too formal. Something personal and intimate will produce much more interesting results."

[reel-fear]

Genuinely so curious who Mike thinks is gonna be buying The Cage or the new DCTL GN bc with the way he tweets as far as he's concerned, it's not gonna be:

The queer people he has actively admitted he will never show any representation of in the games.

2. The POC he has actively fought against representing in his franchise. [Who he also mocked for thinking they would be represented in his franchise]

3. The Bendy fandom which has always been concerned with topics of diversity esp in the sense of queer people since its creation. Who he has responded to really poorly esp in regards to the GN.

4. The fans who critique him. [He blocked me for doing so lol]

5. His fans in general who he tweets about like this currently. [He's being vague about why people were mad at him or sent him 'nasty messages' because if you actually looked into why you'd see he was in the wrong. Either way, a very hateful way to speak abt ur own fanbase.]

Reminder while Mike is trash talking his fans he has always treated them rather poorly. The fans who won the fanart contest for Chapter 5 never got their posters actually in game due to it being rushed. Not only was chapter 5 a big slap to the face story wise, but it was literally so rushed he couldn't be bothered to add in the art his fans gave him for his game FOR FREE. [Meatly blames this on a crazy timeline, reminder him and Mike are the literal ceos of this company. The proposal of future updates here is also pretty cruel considering Mike nowadays happily admits he corrupted Chapter 5's source code and therefore literally can't update it At All currently. Because he is a moron]

At least they got to be in Boris and the dark survival, and by that I mean that was the Only game they got to be in so far, isn't that just treating your fans like you love them? Shoving their hard work into a spin off game almost nobody has played or addresses much. [Hell, who knows if with the Lone Wolf rebrand they'll even stay there. In which case they'll be in None of the games, only in the credits of BATIM]

6. The Bendy fans who just generally disagree with him on stuff. Like the new ink demon design where there is literally a public poll showing people generally prefer the old one.

7. The Bendy fans who can see he is actively lying to them. To their fucking faces.

He says this has always been the case, but screenshots and links to tweets regarding the books being canon prove it was not. Does he really think bendy fans are stupid or something? [Unless he's admitting here he lied to Kress when he told her the books were canon which sounds worse!]

8. Anyone who doesn't like the idea of giving money to a guy who laid off tons of employees then afterwards thought it was a great idea to express his anti-union views! Also brag about how good of an employer he was, according to his employees, he was not!

So in summary; Mike is an awful person who has not learned anything from the awful things he did. I will not be purchasing The Cage because, combined with this and his absolute refusal to take any kind of critique or see any differing interpretation of his franchise, I have no reason to think my problems with the franchise will ever be addressed or fixed. I probably will pirate The Cage along with any future Bendy Products [Including the movie] and will do my best to avoid giving it any kind of monetary support. Unless this changes any time soon, I can't see myself making anymore positive Bendy posts soon.

Mike has just managed to make it so hard to speak positively or optimistically of this franchise when he's so willing to broadcast how little he cares about it or its fans. I'm at the point where I refuse to pull any of my punches with my problems with it. What's the point of trying to play nice with my critique when either way the people creating it don't care?

So with this post, I want to invite anyone who feels similarly about the franchise to tell me, make a post or send an ask talking about how all of this makes you feel. It may not change how things are, but genuinely seeing other people share my feelings of anger makes me feel better. It feels nice to see when other people share our same concerns and worries. I'd also love to know if anyone else thinks they'll be avoiding purchasing Bendy products over this.

I'm not forcing anyone to participate in it nor trying to say anyone who doesn't supports mike but genuinely maybe if we can collectively decide to boycott things like the movie, graphic novel and The Cage... It might at least make the bendy devs acknowledge how much they have destroyed their own fandom's faith and trust in them.

The way Mike tweets about his actions like he had no control over why people were mad at him at least proves to me he takes NONE of it back nor regrets it. If you didn't know about his actions and only went off his tweets, you would be led to believe Mike has been needlessly picked apart by fans over things he couldn't control [or in his own words, had his words twisted and taken out of context]. That is not how you speak about your actions if you have actually learned better from them.

anyway, that has been my bendy dev callout post. This is an open invitation to anyone feeling similarly upset about the way the franchise is going to talk about it. It's genuinely nice to see how people feel about this and the more we talk about the more it's likely the bendy devs are forced to address our concerns. I don't think they will but hey, that's why I'm not gonna support them with my money anymore nor am I gonna be nice to them in any content I make critiquing Bendy. I mean I'm also basically making this post just in case anyone asks me Why I feel this way towards to bendy devs/as a way to respond to anyone who thinks I am too harsh in my critique in the future.

As always, it seems the best part of Bendy isn't actually anything about canon but about what the fan's are creating with the ideas Bendy failed to do anything interesting with.

Also the books, the books slap.

[afreakingmilkshake]

just know that i take a screenshot of majority of the tags that you leave on my art bc seeing you guys being impacted by what i do and knowing that i make your day better leaves me with a huge goofy smile on my face

[mossterunderthebed]

Y'know what honestly frustrates me about the JJK fandom?

When people make stuff that's like JJK 0 Gojo and Getou talking or whatever, and it's like Getou being totally deadpan about all the horrible things he's doing/going to do/believes in *insert various types of wholesale murder here* and Gojo just laughs along, treating it like it's a joke and Getou's so cute and funny.

Like, no.

Gojo did NOT indulge Getou's philosophy. That was The Whole Point.

What do you think the whole encounter on the street in front of a random KFC was about? That's why there was such a deep divide between them. That's why Gojo was furious and disbelieving. That's why they didn't see or talk to each other for TEN YEARS even thought they were best friends.

Because Getou killed people, chose to kill people, and chose to keep killing people. Because he dehumanized an entire, MASSIVE group of people who were good, bad, kind, cruel, and everything in between, men, women, children, everyone, simply because of something they couldn't help and didn't even know about. Because he took advantage of those that Gojo had decided and felt duty-bound- even though he didn't like it much- to protect.

(And all that came BEFORE Geotu ever stepped into the picture. Yeah, Gojo whines about having to protect the weak and admittedly thinks it's a drag, but he still does it. He was raised with the ideal that he should do it.

That wasn't a Getou thing. Getou believing in that as a teenager did change the way Gojo saw it, but it wasn't New. He already was raised that way, believed that way, and intended to live that way, or why go to Jujutsu High at all? Even if he found it annoying, he was still always going to become a sorcerer, not only because it was kind of his only option- which is it's own kind of horrible- but because he was a sorcerer, down to his bones.

He had that madness in him, and maybe it was nurtured, but that doesn't change the fact that it was there. He wanted to be a sorcerer, loved fighting and killing curses, whether it had anything to do with helping others or not.)

I know it's just fanart and fandom, and look, I myself really like art of Gojo and Getou in their good days. They were kids and they were happy. While I don't ship them, they were best friends, and their own kind of soulmates, I've never not believed that, it's too forking obvious. Gege practically shoves it down our throats and literally designed them to balance each other and be Messed Up Forever when they split. Every official art we see of the two of them practically has them as each other's reflections. I know, okay? I can't not know.

I just get really frustrated when Gojo's disregarded like that. He is his own person with his own beliefs who's made his own choices. They both are. And maybe it's dumb to get up in arms about a story that's not even real, but Gojo's a really imperfect person who struggles and suffers, and at the end of the day? He tries his best.

Even with all the power in the world, he's still only human. He can still only do so much. He's expected to be more than he is a lot of the time, and still he really tries. He wants to make the world better. He wants to make life better for the next generation. He has, in a way, given up on himself, but he's still going, because he knows his place in the world is still one that needs filling.

That's a narrative that means a lot to me. It's disheartening when it's misinterpreted because of the fun, silly, giggly side of his personality, or the reckless, careless, cocky side, both of which are wonderfully, excruciatingly human.

That's all.

[aiming-for-phantoms]

Hot take but I just read a long post about someone being so upset and angry about the way the other people on empires treat Jimmy Solidarity (pranks, making fun of him, ect) and people in the replies were agreeing and talking about how distraught it makes them and all I can say is you should really stop watching his/others' Empires videos if its making you that upset because I can guarantee that its all in good fun and the man is having a perfectly okay time. He's having fun with his friends, they just like to rag on him. My friends like to rag on me too and it's totally fine, I enjoy it. You're projecting and you're, like, WAY too invested if it's upsetting you like that. You're turning him having fun with his friends into something it's not.

Stop using his videos to make yourself miserable :| Go watch something else instead of being self destructive and then whining about it online when there's not even anything wrong or mean really happening :| I'm so serious when I say that this is chronically online behavior and you need to go talk to a professional because that is Not Normal.

[nururu]

Sensory issues that make me not want my hair to touch my neck/ears

vs.

chronic migraine disorder that can be triggered by wearing my hair up for too long or wearing anything on my head at all

vs.

ppl telling me they like me more with long hair&making me feel insecure about having short hair

[computerpeople]

ive thought about becoming a babysitter full time id really enjoy it, i love child care and i think im pretty good at it! i couldnt raise a kid of course but im really good at interacting with them and teaching them stuff and keeping them entertained. my friends always liked my littlest sister better, but my friends siblings always liked ME better and thought i was the coolest thing theyve ever seen. every kid ive ever met has thought i was the coolest person theyve ever met and i tend to work really well with them

[vancilart]

if not your love, at least i have your hate

[rainingincale]

Should i just unfollow my ex-mp, because ngl I feel like im just torturing myself at this point

(Im seriously asking and you should tell me yes)

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[letteredlettered]

feedback and fic in fandom (3 f's of our own)

This conversation about feedback on fic says everything I’ve been wanting to say better than I could say it. But I’ll go ahead and try anyway.

Over the last five years or so there have been some great discussions around the rise of commodification of fanworks and decline of fandom community. This commodification looks a bit like enshittification of the internet: a cool site exists; its popularity makes someone realize they can get money from it; it has more and more ads; the site adds features to drive engagement, including The Algorithm; the things that made the site cool start to fall away. The site exists now as a vehicle purely to get clicks, and the people on it are on it solely to get clicks—to make money, to be successful, for some kind of social cachet.

AO3 doesn’t have advertisements. It’s not making money. But what is happening to fandom is proof of concept that enshittification changes the way we as humans engage. A cool website in 2004 was often a community space where you could meet people, have conversations, find cool things, and make cool things. A cool website in 2024 is either a content farm that will continually feed you enough content to hold your attention, or a social media site where your participation will come with stats to show you whether you are holding the attention of others.

AO3 wasn’t built to be a community space. It doesn’t have great functions for meeting people and having conversations. The idea was that, because fandom community spaces already existed, AO3 would serve the part of that community where you can find the cool things and store the cool things you made. It was meant to be a library in a city, not the whole city itself.

But it was also never meant to be a website in 2024, a content farm constantly generating content solely for your clicks and eyeballs and ad revenue, or a social media site where the content creators themselves vie for your clicks and eyeballs.

The most common talking point when people discuss the enshittification of fandom is the folks out there who are treating AO3 as that first kind of enshittified website: the content farm. This discussion is about how people treat fanfic as a product for consumption.

The post that kicked off the discussion on @sitp-recs’s blog was about someone who wasn’t getting very many kudos or comments on their fic, and was feeling pretty demoralized about it, then joined a discord server and found an entire channel dedicated to people loving their fic. But those on that server had never come to share that love with the author, which the author found really discouraging.

There are more and more stories like this. Someone on tiktok pulls a quote from a fic on AO3 and makes a 10-second video with them staring at a wall, the quote pasted at the bottom, music playing over it. It has 100,000 hearts, and 100 comments with people gushing over the fic, which has 80 kudos on AO3. Overall, people notice more and more hits on their fics, but fewer and fewer comments or even kudos. Fewer and fewer people seem to feel the need to interact with the author, instead treating the fic like a product to be used and discarded—which the enshittified internet (a stunning feature of late-stage capitalism!) encourages. The fandom community is dying, these stories conclude.

I agree. 100%. Both of the stories above have happened to me—viral tiktoks about my fic, secret discord channels to follow and discuss my fic—and let me tell you, it fucking sucks.

But from these observations about fandom enshittification, the discussion continues in a very odd direction. The solution to the death of fandom community is our favorite enshittification buzzword: engagement. We should engage the authors. They’re producing these products for free. We consume them at no cost. We must demonstrate our gratitude by paying them back.

It’s as though the capitalist consumption that the enshittified web encourages is so ingrained within us that we must think in terms of payment, in terms of exchange, transaction. Or as though, by forgoing payment, authors are some kind of martyrs defying capitalism, and the only way to honor their great sacrifice is comments and kudos.

Indeed, the discourse around this sometimes does veer away from capitalist rhetoric into something that smells almost religious in desperation. Authors are gods who bestow us mere mortals with the fruits of their labor benevolently, through love; the least we can do is worship them. Meanwhile the authors adopt the groveling sentiment of starving artists: I produce great art; I only humbly ask that you feed me in return.

These kinds of entreaties make my skin crawl for a number of reasons. I’m not a god. I’m not writing because I love you. I don’t expect your worship or even your praise.

I think the thing that disturbs me the most about it is that it suggests that authors (or, if the OP is feeling generous fan work creators) are the most important people in fandom. I’ve even seen posts stating that without creators, fandom wouldn’t exist—as though readers aren’t just as important. As though conversations where people discuss characterizations and plot points and randomly spin out interpretations and ideas and thoughts related to canon are meaningless. I’ve even seen people scramble to include folks having these discussions as “creators,” as though realizing that these people are necessary and integral to fandom communities but unable to drop the idea that the producers are the ones who are important. As though that person who just lurks can never count.

Is this what community is? When you join the queer community, are you expected to produce a product of your queerness? If not, must you actively participate and give back to the queer community in order to be considered a part of it? Or is it enough that you are queer, that you exist as a queer person and want to be around others who are queer, you want to be a part of something? What is community, anyway?

The problem with people raising the authors above everyone else in the community and demanding that tribute be paid is that they are decrying the “content farm” style of 2024 website out of one side of their mouth, but out of the other side are instead demanding that AO3 become a 2024-style social media website. Authors are influencers. “Engagement” and clicks are the things that really matter. They are in fact suggesting that the way to solve the commodification of fanfic is by “paying authors back” with stats.

Before anyone comes at me with the idea that comments aren’t just “stats,” I will clarify what I mean. There are literally hundreds of posts on tumblr alone claiming that any comment “helps” the author. Someone replies that they are shy to comment. Someone else replies that incoherent keyboard smashes, a single emoji, or the comment “kudos” are all that is required to satisfy the author, all that is required as tribute—all that is required as payment to keep this economy healthy.

I’m not condemning the comments that are keyboard smashes or emojis or a single kind word. I receive them. They make me happy. If anyone wants to leave such a comment on my fics, I’m really grateful for it. But this is not community-building. This is a transaction. In @yiiiiiiiikes25’s excellent response in the post linked at the beginning, they point out that “you have a cool hat” is something that is “perfectly nice” to hear from someone—and it is! We all want to be told we have a cool hat! But as they go on to say, what builds community is interactions that are deep and specific, interactions that are rich in quality, not in quantity. A kudos or a comment that says only ❤️are lovely things to receive, but they don’t build community.

My reaction, when I see people begging for kudos and comments as the only means by which to keep fandom community alive, is very close to @eleadore's. I want to say, “No. Readers do not need to comment or kudos. Believe not these hucksters who claim to know the appropriate method of fandom participation. Participate as you feel able, or not at all; nothing is required of you.”

I’ve been told before (several times) that I’m not qualified to participate in such discussions because I am an established author who has some fics with very high stats. It doesn’t matter that I have also been a new writer with almost no one reading my fics. It doesn’t matter that I still write in new fandoms where no one in that fandom knows me. It doesn’t matter that I, like any human being, still care about receiving recognition and attention and praise.

And maybe that’s correct. I personally don’t think that billionaires have a place in deciding the direction of the economy, and--if we're really going to consider fandom an economy--in fandom terms, if I’m not a billionaire, or even a millionaire, I’m definitely in the infamous “one percent.” So, just as no one wants to hear Elon Musk say “money isn’t everything,” maybe it’s not my place to say “kudos isn’t required, actually.”

That said, I’m not the only one who has a problem with the stats-based discourse around fandom community. However, the main counter-response to this discussion I see goes something like this: you shouldn’t be writing fic for validation. If you’re writing for attention, you’re doing it for the wrong reason. Authors should write fic because they love it without any expectation of return.

This is, in my opinion, missing the point of what is meant by fandom community.

I wrote fanfic before I knew that fanfic, as a concept, existed. I read books; I wanted them to be different; I wrote little stories for myself with new endings, with self-inserts, with cross-overs, with alternate universes. I did it for myself in the 90s. It never occurred to me that anyone else would do this, much less that people would share.

As @faiell points out—creating and sharing are two different things. I created fics for myself, but I decided to share them in the early 2000s because other people might like them, too. And of course, I wanted to hear whether other people liked them. How could I not? I might decorate my home just for me and not for anyone else’s preferences, but when people come over and say my house is nice, how can I not enjoy that? And if a lot of people think my house is nice, which encourages me to post pictures of it online, isn’t it understandable I might do so with the hope that more people will say my house is nice? And, honestly, if no one is appreciating my pictures, I probably won’t continue to go through the trouble of taking them and posting them. I’ll just enjoy my house that I decorated without sharing, the end.

When I found out there were whole fannish communities where people discussed canon and tossed ideas around about it, made theories and prompts and insights into the characters, fics they had written and recs for other fics and analyses of fics and art based on fics and fics based on art—I wanted to be a part of that, too. Now, sometimes, I write fic not out of an internal need to do so but out of a desire to participate in that community.

The idea that we write fic only for the love of it, then post it only because we possess it, is a process entirely centered on the self. It’s fandom in a vacuum. The idea that we share this thing, that we feel pleasure if someone likes it but feel nothing at all if no one says anything about it, that it’s completely okay to be ignored and unseen—that’s not what a community is either. That’s some weird sort of self-aggrandizement through self-effacement—because yes, there is often a weird kind of virtue-signaling in this kind of discourse.

I say this as someone who has virtue-signaled in that way: “some people write for stats, but I write for myself.” It’s bullshit. Sure, I write for myself, but why post it on the internet? Honestly, said virtue has a whiff of the capitalist machine, which would like you to produce for the sake of production, work for the sake of work. The noblest among us expect no recompense for that which they give!

The reason that I’m bringing this back around to capitalism is that capitalism actively works to dismantle community. The reason that folks are out here pleading for “engagement” in order to “pay back” authors for the products they give us “for free” is because people no longer even have the language to discuss how to participate in meaningful community. And frankly, how to build back fandom community, in the face of enshittification, is getting harder and harder to see.

But I do think that if we value fanfic and the fanfic community, it’s really, really not constructive to judge whether someone’s reasons for writing fanfic are valid. It’s also weird to me that it would be considered wrong that someone’s reason for sharing fanfic is because they would like to receive some recognition for it, when in fact that seems to be the most natural reason in the world for sharing something so private and vulnerable with the world.

Let’s go back to that idea of how hurtful it is to find out your fanfic is trending on tiktok without anyone from tiktok saying anything to you about your fic, or how it can be painful to find out there’s a secret discord channel dedicated to your fic. The people who respond to that with, “Ah, but you shouldn’t be writing to get attention!” are missing the point. The fic did get attention. It got lots. Attention obviously wasn't why the writer was writing--they were writing to participate, and they didn't get to. At all.

However, if your conclusion is that the author was upset because these particular stats were not accruing under this author’s profile, thereby preventing them from achieving the vaunted status of BNF and influencer—I don’t know, maybe you’re right. But I don’t think that’s why I, personally, have been hurt by these things, and I doubt it’s what hurt the people in these posts either. They’re hurt because they want to participate, and they have been systematically excluded by the very people they thought were part of the community they thought they could participate in.

Sure, if those folks from tiktok and the discord server all came and showered the author with kudos and comments that said “kudos,” the author might have felt satisfied enough with the quantity of this recognition that they would continue writing. But in the end, this still does nothing to address the problem of fandom community, in which the deep, meaningful recognition, interactions, and relationships in fandom are getting harder and harder to have and to build, as a result of how people now expect to engage in online spaces.

So, how to address the problem of fandom community? You probably read this long, long post hoping that I had an answer, and for that I must apologize. I don’t have solutions. My intent was to be descriptive, rather than prescriptive. I wished to outline the problems that I’m seeing in what was hopefully a slightly new or at least thought-provoking way, rather than offer solutions.

But, now that I’m talking about being prescriptive, maybe I can offer one suggestion, which is—maybe the solution to this isn’t about prescribing behavior. I do understand the irony in writing a prescription saying we shouldn’t prescribe people, but I’m going to write it anyway:

Maybe we shouldn’t be telling anyone the appropriate reasons for writing fanfic or for sharing it. Maybe we shouldn’t be telling readers they need to kudos or need to comment. If we’re going to go pointing fingers, we should be pointing at the institutions of capitalism that have made the internet what it is today—but I don’t think that’s going to solve the problem either.

But I do think that describing this problem, understanding what it actually is, not blaming readers for it and not blaming authors for it—I do think that helps. The discussion I linked at the beginning of this post is what I think of as the fandom I miss, the fandom that's now harder and harder to access, the fandom that is dying. That fandom was a social space where people had opinions and disagreed and went back and forth and gazed at their navels and then talked about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

In the words of @yiiiiiiiikes25, it was a fuckin’ discussion about hats. And we’re hungry for it.

[oreo-creampie]

“𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! first time w toji, virgin!reader, reader is lil insecure about how her coochie looks and her performance, just the tip/fucking you with his tip, HEAVY praise/encouragement & reassurance, light begging, toji take its slow and is soft soft soft for you, forehead kisses, hand holding during sex is so sweet, light making out, overstimulation/hints of mind break, very light size kink, daddy/mama

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! Do you think Toji would be gentle if it was your first time having sex? Just imagine him rubbing his tip against our entrance and being like “relax for me, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

Fey: we can take a moment to appreciate soft toji after some mean toji

Toji grinds his hard, heavy cock on your soft cunt. The feeling is so surreal and new to you, the warmth of his cock, the softness of his skin with how hard and heavy he is.

Toji’s weight is comforting when he leans over you. Softly kissing your forehead then encouraging you, “‘You can take me lil mama, we’re gonna go slow,” gently grabbing your hand “Squeeze my hand for comfort, how’s this sound, say blue if it gets too much.”

Sitting up grabbing his thick hard cock and lining himself up with your soaking wet cunt. Slowly rubbing his cock between your soft lips. “Your lips are so pretty mama, I love seeing them around my cockhead.” Your cheeks heat up as you look away.

“You’re staring too much! My pussy looks weird! Nnnn!” Your jaw drops when he nudges his thick cock head in. The pleasure is stronger than the acute discomfort which quickly melts as Toji strokes your clit.

Clenching Toji’s cock he croons, “We can't be looking at the same pretty lil’ cunt. She’s so soft, wet and fuckin’ gorgeous, I wanna take my time with her.” Toji keeps still groaning when you clench his fat head.

It feels so wonderful but strange having someone else touching your soft clit while they’re inside of you. When you close your eyes Toji gently squeezes your hand.

“Beautiful mama I need you to look at me.” When you look at him he smiles, “Good girl.” He glides some of his cock in and you jolt, tensing up, your nerves getting the best of you. “

He slowly pulls out leaving half his head inside you. He croons, “Relax for me mama, trust me to take good care of your gorgeous lil’ cunt.” Taking the moment to admire how your little hole is stretching when he pushes the rest of his head in.

“I can't stop watching her take me. Everything about your pussy is beautiful, the color, your shape of your lips n’ how soft you feel around me, fuck lil mama. Tell me you have a gorgeous cunt.” The way he is playing with your clit is making it hard to think.

“Nnngonna cum?! Daddy? How? I already?” Your head is going fuzzy from the intense euphoric high of cumming again.

Toji croons, “Go ahead lil’ mama cum on ya daddy’s cock.” Twisting your hips he glides his cock out.” You’re doing so good.” Stroking your clit faster as your soaking wet cunt spasms around nothing and soaks the bed.

“You can handle it, that’s it, you’re doing so good cumming. Ya can keep going.” Biting your bottom lip as he lines himself back up. He barely nudges his head in. “Say you have a beautiful cunt, if you want more than just the tip.”

Pushing your hips down whilst pleading, “I have a beautiful cunt! Please put it in, I want you to cum too!” Toji doesn't have it in him to pull away. Rolls his hips gliding in half his cock before restraining himself.

He insists, “What’s it? You’ll have to be clearer for me, look me in the eyes when you say it.” His smokey gray blue eyes are too intense, your nerves hit you full force. “Aw are you really getting shy with my cock in ya?”

Admitting to Toji, “No…I’m getting nervous again, nnn!” You feel so full as he fucks you with half his cock. “You’re too hoooot!” He. I like you a little too much, it's making me nervous how I'm doing and what you’re thinking.”

He leaves your sensitive clit alone and pins your thigh by your side. “‘I’m thinking about how I want to flip you over and fuck ya from behind so I can watch your ass bounce while you take me. But backshots might be a bit much for your first time.” Holding your hand above your head, he leans down and gives you a soft kiss.

It feels so good to be underneath him full of his cock while softly making out with him. Wrapping one leg around his waist, digging your nails into his well-sculpted backside.

Moaning into Toji’s soft slow passionate kiss, sliding your fingers into his soft dark hair. Toji keeps his pace slow and steady, fucking you a little deeper, rubbing your sweet spot and wrecking every thought.

It’s hard to be nervous when his cock is deep in your guts. When he pulls away you beg, “I can take your fat cock daddy please! I wanna make you feel good too! Lemme take your cock from the back while you hold my wrists together. I wanna try every position possible with you.” He pulls out and flips you over.

Toji can easily hold your wrists behind your back with one hand. “I can’t tell my lil’ mama no with you begging me like that. But first tell me how sexy your soaking wet cunt is.” Rubbing his cock between your soft lips.

all works

[strwbrychffoncke]

"ah, ah, you're obsessed.. ah, ah, you're obsessed!,, 1.8k words ⸺ event masterlist synopsis: sometimes caleb just wishes to devour you whole contains: nsfw! lnds caleb x afab!reader ,obsessed!caleb but whats new ,soft?dom caleb ,pipsqueak/baby/princess used as petnames ,kissing ,praise ,slight body worship ,teasing ,facesitting ,cunnilingus ,caleb eats u out through ur panties (later they come off) ,edging ,orgasm ,overstim but barely ,implied u keep going ,i think thats it note: (edited!) releasing this late just for it to be a new concept to play with :p editing this was so hard for no reason sigh

-

if someone asked him, caleb would say, in a roundabout way, that he was utterly obsessed with you.

though honestly, it wasn't hard for anyone to decipher that on their own given the way he takes any opportunity to mention you, much less if anyone were to catch sight of him with you— the little lovesick eyes he'd be staring at you with resembled a puppy, trailing after and following your every whim (not without some of his own teasing). furthermore, the shift in his eyes that he'd give to anyone that recognized you was usually enough to demand them not to interrupt your time together.

if you were to ask him, he might even confess that you were the very air that he breathed.

maybe thats why he's kissing you with so much fervor now, stealing your breath from your lungs to fuel and burn into his, but even then its not enough, not really.

he has you caged against his bedroom door— he didn't let a second pass after it clicked closed when he tugged your arm lightly to pull you against it, back hitting the wood with a light thud— arms coming up on either side of your head to trap you against him as he devours your lips.

your hands are clutching at the front of his shirt, left with no space to fight back as caleb's kisses grow almost desperate, borderline trying to consume you. after several minutes of this, you start tugging at his thin shirt, trying your best to push him back just enough to fill your lungs with oxygen.

"cale— mmph— caleb!"

he gets the message, breaking the kiss and watching as your eyes flutter open, one of your arms coming up, back of your hand hovering over your mouth almost acting as a barrier against any more subsequent kiss attacks as you gasp for much needed air.

you're looking up at him through your lashes, eyes wide and holding a mix of shock and... shyness?

caleb thinks the flustered look is the cutest on you.

his hands come let go of the wall in favor of holding your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks for a moment before his touch goes lower, hands sliding down your neck and down your shoulders and further, rubbing up and down your sides before settling on your waist.

he feels the way you shiver at his touch, and he can't help the satisfied and pleased curl of his lips.

he leans in close, lips hovering right above your ear.

"i think i could just eat you up, pipsqueak."

expecting to fluster you further, his eyes widen in slight shock when he feels you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to plant a soft kiss against his jawline.

"then do it."

your whisper of encouragement is all that he needs.

-

he takes his time feeling your skin under his fingers, unintentionally teasing you, not realizing until you whine and tell him to hurry up, already! coaxing a fond chuckle from his lips before he's on his knees before you, his fingers ghosting over your shorts, tugging them down your legs and helping you step out of them, tossing them to the side.

he rubs his hands over your thighs back and forth, looking up at you with a fond look in his eyes.

he begins to nip at the fat, unable to suppress the need to squeeze at the plush flesh as he leaves loving marks (ones that you'll look back at and probably reprimand him for later).

but he couldn't help it. he wanted, needed to plant his lips on you, on anywhere he was able to reach.

"take them off already!"

when you squirm under his touches, body slumping against the door and head thrown back in frustration, whining again at the feel of his mouth so close yet so far to where you need him the most, he suddenly pulls back, patting your thighs as he moves to stand up.

"get up, baby," he mutters, reaching for the bottom of his shirt and slipping it over his head, tossing it to a corner of the room. you watch as he then makes his way towards his bed, laying on his back before beckoning you over.

"come and sit on my face."

your eyes widen in shock at the demand while a lazy grin is spread on his face.

"b-but, caleb—"

"c'mere already," his voice is soft but the demand within it is firm.

you take a deep breath, taking slow steps towards the bed. caleb's eyes are on you the entire way, feeling how the mattress dips under your weight and watching you crawl to sit over his lap.

his hands reach out for you, grabbing hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, dragging you up over his abs and onto his chest.

"caleb, wait—"

your hands shoot out to grab onto him but he ignores your protest, lifting you up with ease right over his mouth.

"been waitin' all day to do this, baby," he breathes, hastily lowering your core closer and closer to his awaiting mouth.

"but caleb, i still have my—"

"keep them on, ill eat you out through them," he murmurs against the thin barrier, sticking his tongue out to lap at the spot of arousal as he sits you completely on him, licking and sucking at your heat through your panties.

you moan at the sensation of his tongue through the thin barrier, pleasure teetering between being not enough and a little too much as he licks and sucks at you as if he were starved.

it seems these panties in particular are doing something to him. you feel the way he's groaning against your core as his movements grow faster, tongue curling around where your entrance would be, ears red from the sounds and small begs you breathe out into the cool room.

when you notice his face going a little red, you lift yourself off of him just slightly, looking down at him concerned.

"caleb! are you okay?"

a displeased growl escapes his throat, his eyes stern as they meet yours, hands gripping your hips just a little bit harsher— you wince under the increased pressure.

"'m just fine, pipsqueak, but i can't promise you'll be if you get up again."

"but i—"

"i don't care if it looks like suffocating," he tugs at your hips, sly smirk curling up his lips.

"you know how much i hate when my mealtime gets interrupted."

with that, you're planted firmly back over his mouth, a moan ripped from your throat as he immediately gets back to work. you can't help the involuntary jerk of your hips against his mouth, seeking further friction in the pleasure with the barrier in place.

you're not sure how long has passed but you feel your core begin to tighten, your release steadily approaching.

"caleb, close," you pant, fingers tugging at his hair, practically riding his face at this point to increase the pressure enough to cum.

"yeah? gonna cum, baby?"

the thin fabric of your panties is practically soaked at this point, and caleb seems to be going a little crazier at the feel while at the same time, desperate to be tasting you properly.

with a single finger he moves the fabric to the side, slipping two long fingers into your leaking entrance as he laps at your folds. you throw your head back at the full sensation— no longer deterred from the barrier— moans increasing in volume as you continue riding his face.

his mouth is desperate as he slips his tongue in and out of you, curling his fingers just right and when he uses a thumb to play with your clit at the same time, it all feels like too much, and you tell him so, lifting your hips ever so slightly—

but caleb notices, and he's not happy.

his eyes rake up to your almost-gone expression, wondering if you've even realized what you did.

without saying anything, you feel yourself sit completely and firmly against caleb once again. when he begins the onslaught of pleasure once more, your body shaking from the sensations, you feel yourself being held down.

your eyes shoot to his narrowed ones, looking right back at you.

he's using his evol so you can't get away again.

you cry out, overwhelmed with pleasure and with a few more thrusts from his tongue and presses against your clit, you're coming all over his tongue and fingers, hips bucking against his face and satisfied hums and moans escaping your lips.

this is how it should be.

caleb keeps working his fingers inside of you, groaning and chest rumbling in satisfaction at the way your release spills into his mouth and down the bottom half of his face, welcoming the way your thighs squeeze around his head, letting you ride out your high against him.

he feels the way your body trembles above him, weak hands tugging at his short hair as he continue lapping at you, fingers still alternating their curling motions within you, albeit slower.

"too... m-much, too much caleb—"

he decides to be nice.

he slowly pulls his fingers from you, grabbing your hips steady and setting you down on his chest.

you watch each other catch your breaths, and take a look at the state the other is in.

caleb loves the dazed expression you're sporting, panting out into the air, looking absolutely spent already.

meanwhile, in the midst of your hazy high you're slowly coming down from, embarrassment begins to crawl up your system at the sight of caleb's messy hair and drenched face, no thanks to you.

you scoot back further, sitting on his abs as your hands lay flat against his pecks.

"sorry about—"

"nuh-uh, this is exactly what i wanted," he interrupts you, grinning in satisfaction.

"though..."

his voice trails off as his eyes drift down to your soaked panties.

"these," he hooks a finger through the twisted portion of it, "might be ruined."

you only laugh, sitting up on your knees. he watches you make quick work of taking them off before planting yourself back down on top of him. you lean forward, a little daringly, sly smile making its way onto your face as you rub your hands over his chest.

"those were new," you feign a pout, one hand curling into itself, index finger pointed out to drag your touch over his heart.

"you'll have to make it up to me," you lean back slightly, hands withdrawing to trail over the hem of your top.

caleb's eyes are glued to you.

"oh, do i, now?"

"yeah," you meet his teasing yet curious gaze, lifting your shirt over your head and tossing it carelessly on the floor, leaning forward again, hands flat on the pilot's chest.

you tilt your head innocently.

"how will you do it?"

in a swift motion, he grips your hips again, lifting you back up , holding you just before his lips.

"sit back down and you'll find out, princess."

-

a/n: would he be in to this? i cant tell ,but i can see it

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