#this wasn't really prompted by anything

[unforth]

Gentle reminder that very little fandom labor is automated, because I think people forget that a lot.

That blog with a tagging system you love? A person curates those tags by hand.

That rec blog with a great organization scheme and pretty graphics? Someone designed and implemented that organization scheme and made those graphics.

That network that posts a cool variety of stuff? People track down all that variety and queue it by hand, and other people made all the individual pieces.

That post with umpteen links to helpful resources, and information about them? Someone gathered those links, researched the sources, wrote up the information about them.

That graphic about fandom statistics? Someone compiled those statistics, analyzed them, organized them, figured out a useful way to convey the information to others, and made the post.

That event that you think looks neat? Someone wrote the rules, created the blogs and Discords, designed the graphics, did their best to promo the event so it'd succeed.

None of this was done automatically. None of it just appears whole out of the internet ether.

I think everyone realizes that fic writing and fanart creation are work, and at least some folks have got it through their heads that gif creation and graphics and moodboards take effort, and meta is usually respected for the effort that goes into it, at least as far as I've seen, but I feel like a lot of people don't really get how much labor goes into curation, too.

If people are creating resources, curating content, organizing the creations of others, gathering information, and doing other fandom activities that aren't necessarily the direct action of creation, they're doing a lot of fandom labor, and it's often largely unrecognized.

Celebrate fan work!

To folks doing this kind of labor: I see you, and I thank you. You are the backbones of our fandoms and I love you.

[lux-aurea-lunae]

Prompt 16 - Hot Chocolate

“Do you have any hot cocoa? It’s freezing outside.” Villain rummaged through Hero’s cupboards.

“There’s hot chocolate powder in the cupboard closest to the fridge.”

“How do you turn on your stove?”

“Just microwave a cup of water.”

“Microwave? I didn’t know you had such terrible taste,” Villain said, affronted.

Hero cracked an eye open, but they couldn’t see Villain from their current position. “What’s the difference? It’s just hot water.”

“That’s another thing. You make hot cocoa with water?”

“Yeah, so?”

“It’s so much better with milk!”

Leave it to Villain to pick fights over the smallest and strangest things. “Milk is easier to burn and more expensive than water.”

“But it tastes better!”

“It tastes perfectly fine either way.”

“You sound so boring!”

“And you sound childish.”

“See, this is why we can’t be together!”

“It’s not because you’re a villain and I’m a hero?”

“No! It’s because you insist on settling for subpar satisfaction when there’s better options available to you! You can’t let yourself truly enjoy anything because you feel guilty every moment you’re not suffering!”

Hero stared at Villain, speechless. How were they supposed to respond to that? How did the argument go from hot chocolate preferences to Hero’s guilt complex?

“Woah, that got a bit heavy,” Villain said. “We really need to talk about your mental health, but that’s a conversation for another time. What I’m trying to say is, you should indulge yourself every once and a while.” They shoved a mug into Hero’s hands. “Here, just try it.”

Hero didn’t want to admit Villain had a point, but it did taste pretty good. “How about I compromise by microwaving the water until it’s boiling, then adding milk to it?”

“Fine, but you’re on thin ice.”

[hailsatanacab]

"give me a fandom and a prompt and i'll give you at least five sentences"

Ok then.

Jazz, Danny and Bruce are in the same age range, and Bruce has been harboring a massive crush on 7'foot tall Jazz since just after he began his training journey.

His kids know about and are mercyless. Danny thinks he's a bit of a fruit loop and 100% knows Bruce has a crush on his sister.

Into the future his coworkers find out that batman has been quietly pining after the Ghost Kings sister for years.

Chaos.

love that this reads as a challenge. Ok then. Write it. i will, let's goooo!

(sorry i kinda took it so that Jazz, Danny, and Bruce were all old friends but in that horrible adult way where you can only hang out with each other once in a blue moon when your work schedules miraculously align)

——

"Respectfully, Batman, you can take your "it's not necessary" and you can shove it up your arse. There's a demon the size of a skyscraper heading towards Metropolis and we need reinforcements."

"Superman can—"

"Superman can't. You do remember the part of the report I made telling you this, right? Or did your stubborn little bat brain just shut down when I mentioned magic?"

"Actually," Nightwing interrupts from the side, a shit-eating grin on his face, "I think his brain shut down when you mentioned the Ghost King."

"Nightwing." Batman growls in warning, his jaw clenching so hard Constantine can swear he hears the bones creaking.

Nightwing just snickers, and turns away to press a finger to his ear, no doubt letting the rest of the bat brood in on what's happening here... Whatever that is. All Constantine knows is that Batman is standing between him and fixing this mess for no God-forsaken reason.

Luckily, some of the more reasonable members of the League step in to try and talk some sense into Batman. It gives him some time to calm down.

"Batman. We need him. I know you dislike working with unknowns, but he's our best shot."

It actually looks like Wonder Woman might be getting through to him, Batman even opens his mouth to actually explain some things—a huge step forward for this incredibly emotionally constipated man.

Instead, Nightwing snorts and beats him to it. "Unknowns? More like—"

"Nightwing, please."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, get your head out of your arse and let me do this. The Ghost King is our only hope. I'm summoning him, no matter what you say."

For a long second, Constantine thinks that he'll refuse and he might have to resort to more violent methods of persuasion—which, honestly, Constantine has fantasised about many times during the more boring JL meetings—but eventually, Batman relents and steps out of the way.

"Fine. Nightwing, go check in with Red Robin."

Nightwing has the kind of devious smile that makes John glad he doesn't have kids.

"Oh, don't worry about it, B. Red Robin's coming here. So's Red Hood, I don't need to go anywhere."

"Nightwing—"

"Sh, it's starting." So saying, Nightwing then very obviously ignores Batman's protests with a poker face that even Constantine envies. What he wouldn't give to be able to shut the bat out like that.

The summoning goes quickly, thankfully. The lights flicker, the temperature drops, and the chalk circle erupts in green flames. Standard summoning practices, sure. Even the impromptu appearance of Red Hood and Red Robin—"Did we miss him?", "No, not yet! I got 2:37, what about you guys?"—doesn't throw him off.

It does pique his interest, though. Just what the hell is going on with them? Constantine's weighing up the pros and cons of asking them once all of this is over when the ground splits open and the clawed hand of the Ghost King begins to pull himself out of the ground.

John's a seasoned summoner. It's practically his job, he's done it countless times.

The icey fear that grips his heart, that freezes his breath in his chest, is new.

Pure, unadulterated power floods the area and he feels small, so, so small, like a child playing with things he doesn't understand. When he finally tears his eyes away from the portal, he catches a glimpse of the other magic users in the room, the same horror he feels clear in their faces. Even Captain Marvel stares slackjawed.

The pressure rises, death magic screaming in his ears, almost forcing him to his knees, and suddenly he's not so sure this is a good idea.

Too late to back out now, though.

Sickly green light pours from the crack in the ground, growing brighter and brighter as the giant figure rises, until Constantine has to close his eyes and look away. The last thing he sees are eyes, teeth, horns, a crown so bright that it burns an afterimage into his retinas.

When the light dies down and he opens his eyes again, a humanoid man floats in the centre of the circle. The ground is whole, nothing is burning, the man doesn't even have a crown. Instead, other than the wispy white hair, slightly green skin, and the—you know—floating, the Ghost King appears pretty normal. Huh.

Constantine blinks, rubbing his bleary eyes, and checks around to make sure everyone's okay. Most of the League are doing the same as him, taking fortifying breaths and trying to appear as if they've not just been completely blinded.

Most of them, that is, aside from the Gotham vigilantes.

Batman himself stands upright, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the whole thing and John's got to admit, he wishes he could do that, too. That was... a hell of a show.

The others, however, are waving frantically with huge smiles on their faces.

What?

There's a brief, taut silence, as everyone else tries to catch their breath.

As much as he would rather take a bit of a breather, John should probably start making introductions. Unfortunately, he only gets as far as opening his mouth before the Ghost King beats him to it.

"Oh, Ancients, hey guys! It's been forever, how are you? Look at you all, so grown up, wow—Nightwing, buddy, do a flip!"

It doesn't take much to get Nightwing going, and he certainly doesn't leave it at one flip. The whole of the Justice League and Justice League Dark watch with open mouths as Nightwing performs for the Ghost King.

What, and John can't stress this enough, the fuck?

As soon as Nightwing rights himself, Red Hood swats him across the back of the head and calls him a show off.

The Ghost King just laughs as he claps. "There's my little monkey, look at you go! And I'm loving that leather jacket, Hood, is that new? Looks good on you, really your colour. Brings out the red in your helmet."

"Thanks, Uncle D. At least someone around here appreciates fashion."

"Are you kidding me, you know I breathe fashion, need I remind—"

"Need I remind you of the Discowing incident?"

"That was era-appropriate and you know it! Uncle D, tell him it was era-appropriate!"

"It was era-appropriate, but so are crocs and it doesn't make them fashionable." The Ghost King—and holy shit, is this actually the Ghost King? Or did Constantine just accidentally summon a deceased family member, what the fuck is happening here?—turns to look at Red Robin with a smile, resolutely ignorning the argument he created. "How you doing, Double R? You get that tablet Tucker made for you?"

"Yes, thank you! It's so cool, how did he—"

"How's Tucker doing?" Batman interrupts, his hands now hidden underneath his cape.

As soon as the question leaves his lips, everyone groans. Red Robin makes a show of lifting up his wrist and staring at it intently.

"Incredible," Red Hood mutters with a shake of his head.

Even the Ghost King seems put out, rolling his eyes and answering in a flat tone as if he knows Batman isn't interested in what he has to say.

Not for the first time, Constantine feels like he's missing something.

"Tucker's doing very well, thank you for asking."

What follows is the most awkward silence Constantine has ever had the pleasure to be a part of.

All three of the Gotham vigilantes, including the Ghost King, are staring at Batman, waiting for something. Batman's cloak shifts as if he's moving his hands, fidgeting. If Constantine didn't know any better, he'd say he was nervous.

"Good. That's good, I'm glad to hear it."

Instead of saying anything else, the Ghost King just raises his eyebrows and continues to stare at Batman. Has he offended him in some way? Are they all going to die because of this?

After what seems like an agonising few minutes but could only really be a few seconds, Batman's shoulders dip and he takes a breath. "And Jazz?"

They all erupt into shouts, the Ghost King being the loudest. The only thing John can make out is when the Ghost King throws his hand in the air to point at Red Robin with a shout of "Time!"

"1:30.91, we got 1:30.91 on the clock, who's closest?"

"Did you even try to hold it in at all, old man? I'm so disappointed in you. People think you're cool. People think you're suave, I don't understand how they could be so wrong."

"Thank you for that, Hood."

"No, thank you, I won. Again. Because you're so predictable. Actually, I had one minute seventeen, so you held out longer than I thought you would."

Batman pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs loudly.

Constantine feels like doing the same thing.

Whatever. He's going to have to interrupt... whatever this is. There's still a rampaging demon heading their way that they've got to bargain for. He can untangle Batman's personal connection to the Ghost King later. Or he could leave it alone and forget everything about it.

Yeah, he'll do that one.

But before he can actually open his mouth to say anything, the Ghost King, again, beats him to it.

"So, B-Man, did you summon me here for a particular reason, or was it really just so you could ask about Jazz?"

There's a beat of silence before Batman mutters, "I asked about Tucker, too. We've not seen each other in so long, it's only polite."

"And I'm sure you meant it, you're the paragon of manners." The Ghost King nods slow and wide-eyed as if he doesn't believe him at all.

At this point, even Constantine doesn't believe him.

"It has been forever, though." The Ghost King muses, bringing his hand to his chin and folding his legs underneath him. "We should all get together sometime! If you get Alfie to make some of his cookies again, I'll get Clockwork to lend us a pocket dimension where we can spend as much time as we want, deal?"

"It's a deal."

No hesitation at all, incredible.

Hold on. Wait. John has to fight the urge to pinch himself, because this has to be a dream, right? Is Batman actually smiling? He didn't even know he could do that.

An itch niggles at the back of John's mind. He's starting to get an inkling of what's going on here and it's... weird, to say the least.

"Oooh," Nightwing singsongs, like a child in a playground tickled by the very idea of romance.

But then, who's he to judge? John's no stranger to strange bedfellows, that's for sure. Whoever this Jazz is, she must be something incredible—she'd have to be, if Batman can't even go two minutes without asking about her.

"Batman and Jasmine sitting in a tree," Nightwing continues, with both Red Hood and Red Robin joining in for the rest. "K—I—S—S—I—"

"Stop," Batman growls, completely drowned out by the Ghost King's laughter, but...

But.

It all suddenly clicks for John.

The Ghost King Phantom.

Her Royal Highness, Princess Jasmine Phantom.

Jazz.

"Holy shit, mate," John breathes, unable to stop himself as everyone looks his way. "You have the hots for the Princess of the Infinite Realms?"

The Justice League meeting room has never descended into chaos quicker.

[giolovesyousm]

Day 7 of Deadboyween Weeks:

The Endless

[Dream]

Child of Time and Night, lord of all dreams and reality, what I think could be mine, is perpetually yours.

I meet you when the world has blurred, and everything is quiet, you're always there, at the edge of every half-closed eye, listening to the soft sound of breathing.

Are you here to haunt us? Or to show our past, everything that could have been done, and everything that will ever come.

We close our eyelids for you to take us to impossible lands, colours we'll never see, just to make us forget everything in a few mere moments, what a pity.

We take trains full of men we've seen, in places we've always known, rivers which hum a music we learnt and forgot how to play.

You keep coming for us, night after night, showing us glimpses of ourselves only you could hold, showing us what we dare not see by day.

I want to stay, leaving this right now would be too painful, after the sun left and is just about to greet us again, where everything feels Endless and whole.

[whumping-valentine]

Content: Captivity, conditioned whumpee

I wrote this like a year ago back when I first found out about whump and was experimenting with dynamics. Thought I'd make some edits and post it because why not.

~~~

Whumpee was sat in the grass, smiling as the warmth engulfed them. Cool wind was blowing through the leaves of the trees and the strands of their hair, light rain falling against their face like tiny kisses. Birds were singing, chirping and chattering all around as they searched for worms to feed their young. The outside world was so free and open, and Whumpee was grateful to even get a gaze upon it, let alone sit among it.

They looked up at Whumper with wide, grateful eyes, "Thank you for taking me outside." They said sincerely.

"Well, you've been good, haven't you?"

Whumpee wasn't sure what the right response was, "I am not sure, have I?"

"You tell me, what do you think?" Whumper said, crossing their arms as they did a small roll of their eyes, "Why else would you be outside? Yes, of course you've been good."

"Oh— I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Yeah, yeah. Just because you're apparently stupid doesn't mean you're bad. Enjoy this privilege."

"I will, I'll enjoy it."

"Good for you." They said, uncaring. "I'm going to run inside real quick, and you're going to stay right here until I get back, okay?"

"Yes Sir/Ma'am." (???)

"Good."

As they walked away they turned their head and continued smiling, feeling grateful for the opportunity to be outside. Though now left alone, a terrible realization struck. The smile vanished from their face as they sunk their nails into the dirt.

What am I thinking?! Being outside is a privilege? It's not a privilege! I should be allowed go outside whenever I want! And explore the woods alone! And make my own food, in my own kitchen, whenever I want! Those aren't privileges!

A hit had been taking to their pride as they realized how conditioned they became. It had happened so slowly they couldn't even see what was happening right in front of them. They were blind to it.

All of this niceness isn't because Whumper actually likes or cares for them, it's just so they'll be good and obedient and not cause them any trouble! It's manipulation! How could they be so stupid?! So conditioned?! They were smarter than this, smarter than to fall for manipulation, and yet they still did.

This monster had them doing all these things just to have the privilege to what, eat? Go outside? Not be tortured?!

If they had any sense of dignity left, they would stand up and take off right now. They were alone, they were outside, they were... not free.

It didn't matter if Whumper gave them a key to the outside world and a map to get home. It didn't matter if they opened the door and let them go. Hell, if they told them to go. It didn't even matter if they dropped them off right back in their old bedroom, because they'd still come crawling back to Whumper.

Physical freedom means nothing if your mind is held under lock and key.

And it's just what Whumper wanted.

They've got them.

"Look at you." Whumper cooed as they returned, "Still here. I knew you were too good to run off. I'm so proud of you."

Whumpee felt defeated, and Whumper could see it in their eyes, which just made their next words all the more satisfying to hear

"Why would I go... when I have everything I need right here?"

[magniloquent-raven]

yall mfers need to stop

[tenrose]

I gave up, the website is too shitty, literally nothing functions. Idk if the payment really failed or if those suckers are just not able to properly write 'it's sold out'

Now that I'm slightly annoyed...

I'm gonna rant.

First of all theaters can go fuck themselves if they are not able to provide proper services. The cinema I'm talking about in particular is not indie by the way, it's one of the biggest chains here (fuck you UGC) so the bare minimum they could do is provide with actual functional website so people can actually use it and make reservations. Don't even get me started on the price. 11,60€ for me to fucking go out and see people???? And we know seats aren't as good as they used to be in the past. Don't know about the snack prices, I bet it costs two kidneys.

That being said...

FUCK STREAMING PLATFORMS TOO OR EVEN ESPECIALLY

obviously I ain't paying for any. I won't pay for 10 different platforms, and especially not Amazon they can literally rot in hell. Don't even get me started on netflix. I used to pay sometimes back then. Honestly they had something. They used to do an actual effort and trying to show different stuff. They let creative direction to their writers. We wouldn't never have sense8 with today mentality tbh. Everything is just a reboot, a book adaptation emptied from its substance, a reboot, and book adaptation a reboot, a book a- you see the thing. I mean I shouldn't be bitching as pretty much never watch anything new for years so what do I know? I mean I would like to, but every time I watch a trailer, I'm tired just by watching it. Latest exemple I'm thinking about is the three body problem... Like having read the book just watching the trailer you could see the Americanism all over it... For a chinese book. And it's the problem with everything. I mean American TV shows have always be like this, maybe being younger I wasn't aware back then idk. But it feels so empty, so soulless? They can give me all the diversity they want, that doesn't change that it's still empty. And for TV shows (actually I'm talking more specifically about TV shows cause I'm not a big cinephile so I don't have the legitimacy to criticise) I know it's because of that stupid ass 8 episodes format. I've already talked about it. But it's literally draining the whole industry imo. Also writers clearly having little creative freedom since they have to make stuff that sells. But yeah, TV shows lasted physically and in memories because we were watching them slowly instead of this boulimie stuff we have now. Everything is like consume, forget, consume forget and pay shit ton of money.

And I'm thinking I am actually not built for this shit. I felt so burn out not being able to enjoy anything. So now I don't even try. I don't try new shows cause it's not worth it even when there's an actual good one. Because it's gonna be cancelled anyway. Who wants to emotionally invest in shows that get cancelled (I did so many time).

But when I do.

Be sure I will pirate the shit out of it. None of these industries deserve our money.

To finish on a positive note, if there's one thing I'm really happy for in the end. It's books. Sure the book industry is oversaturated too and there's ton of shit to criticise too (but I won't here). But it's so vast there are books everywhere for everyone, and even if tomorrow not a single book would be published (which I don't believe in), there are enough books for my entire life anyway. But yes books, even if formatted too (looking at us french snobs with our novel format), are like the only place writers can still let go of their creativity. Plus you can have cheap books (I'm starting to get there) and obviously free books thanks to libraries, and also you can pirate books too. Yes I pirate books too but tbh it doesn't even compensate how much I spend buying books so I'm not feeling guilty and I either pirate popular books or old books (if they are really old it's free anyway). But yes if you go out unlike me go buy books if you have money, to your local bookstore, or if you can't library is your way.

Reading is my anchor ⚓

[kyouka-supremacy]

Hey! I was summoned by the tags you put under my post bc I also very much enjoy discussing ethics. I might make this into its own post so I'll try to not elaborate too much...

I think that I can't just decide for everyone if the difference between doing good for the sake of goodness or in order to save oneself matters, but for me, in most cases, including Dazai's case, it doesn't.

I like to believe that morality is a choice one can decide to make, and I don't think it's fair to take that away from them, regardless on how they might feel on the inside. It's a wonderful thing to act morally because it's your "natural" tendency, but I think people also have the right to do so deliberately, for a reason that they choose, without their choice being minimised. They're two different processes for sure, but if the outcome is good, then the action is a good action, and, if being moral is a choice, then I don't think I have the right to decide that only one intention or emotion that will lead there is good enough.

Also, doing good for your own sake and for the sake of others are mutually exclusive at all. One feeds the other, and if we were to put every person's actions under such scrutiny, we would ultimately run in circles.

So, for people outside the story, I would say that the debate does matter, but for the sake of the people involved, it doesn't, because the outcome is the same, especially since Dazai is so opaque as a character, and what he really feels about the things he does is so hard to read, so at the end of the day all most of them experience is his actions.

[Post this is referring to] Thank you for your elaboration, I loved hearing your opinion on the matter!!! That's close to consequentialism, isn't it? The consequences of one's actions, how much good they produced, are telling of it being morally right or wrong. I don't necessarily agree, but that's definitely a valid way to see it!!! I personally believe one's intentions are the most relevant aspect to take into account when judging whether and action is ethically rightful or not. Note that that is judging the moral of the action itself, and not giving a judgement on the person; people can have a million reasons to act selfishly, and in my very “humans are always inherently good” worldview more often than not it's caused by society rather than an actual preference to not be altruistic. But that doesn't change the fact that even a good action, if it isn't moved by good intentions, won't ever be passable of being morally right to me. Besides, then, wouldn't the other way round work to? Someone well intentioned, who's however incompetent, and ends up with their actions putting more bad in the world– as long as they're acting with a true desire to help others for the sake of it, their actions can't be considered morally wrong for me.

To clarify, with reference to your ask; I don't think people who do something for selfish reasons, and end up doing good, are morally rightful; but if they decide to do good, well, isn't that a well-intentioned aim itself? Then I think they stop being selfish to the extension that they consciously decide they're going to do good. That's not morally reprinandable at all.

Now, regarding Dazai... Honestly, I don't think Dazai is a good person. Because he never meant to do good for the sake of it. But now, the thing is, I don't think anyone in bsd is meant to be interpreted as good or evil– nobody, not Atsushi, not Mori, no one. When it comes to bsd– I do think bsd expresses a more or less nihilist worldview. And I know pretty much everyone else disagrees with me on this, I know, I'm sorry. But I do think there lies an undergoing message that good and bad are ultimately the same, and equally meaningless– it's there in Oda saying “Neither good nor evil mean much to you”, it's there in the way it makes you root for mafiosi like they were the good guys, it's there in the way Dazai never even considered to make amends for the bad things he's done (because they were never bad to begin with, because good and bad mean nothing anyway), it's there in the way it constantly shows good people doing bad and bad people doing good in a way that basically equalises them. To me there's really no point in discussing whether Dazai is good, because he is most evidently not, but that's only because he was never meant to be interpreted as such to begin with. Please refer to this post for further details; it's not surprising at all that Dazai switching over to the “good side” didn't come with a radical change of heart, and that he basically stayed the same, because how could he become good when that's no different than being evil, and those both mean nothing anyway?

And I know most people see bsd's core theme as finding a reason to live, and maybe it is, but even then I think that wouldn't be by denying its nihilism, but rather accepting it and finding a reason to live in spite of it: to me all of bsd really sums up in “that, at least, is a little more beautiful”.

[vanmarkus]

a lesson in protecting your peace ✌️

[ihamtmus]

i'll never ever understand why jimin solos seem to hate hobi the most and why hobi solos hate jimin so much because 1) the two are literally THE best friends??? like they're besties who adore each other idk what to tell you jihope is THE duo of the century how can you not love seeing them together 2) everyone knows i love hobi the most and he has my whole heart and i also love jimin BUT even if i didn't love jimin and wanted to say something bad about him i don't think i could because all i'd need to do is think about hobipalooza and then i'd remember i owe jimin my life. like i will NEVER forget what he did. i get it might not be enough for solos to like jimin just because hobi likes him but idk how they can feel anything other than gratitude towards that angel, especially after hobipalooza

[evilkitten3]

What would you think, if, after getting advice from Iroh, Zuko and the gang travel to the spirit world in order to find Aang’s people so that Aang can teach the air acolytes more about the air nomads? But Zuko gets attacked by a poisonous spirit and reverts back to pre Season 2 Zuko after losing some of his memories due to the poison fogging his mind. Zuko is confused and doesn’t know why he’s firelord. The gang try to explain things to him, but it only causes him to become even more confused. Aang and the gang then leave Zuko behind to spend more time with the air acolytes. While they’re gone, Zuko is very uncertain about what to do, but soon corrupt advisors convince him to restart the war. Zuko doesn’t remember his friendship with Aang, but he hears that he once joined Aang, so Zuko assumes that Aang once brainwashed him into joining team Avatar and turning against his Father. Zuko intends to be a much greater firelord than his father, and he and his army raid the air acolyte settlement in their airships in order to hunt down Aang once again, and end up burning down the settlement. Aang and the gang wonder why Zuko chose to hunt them down again. Aang eventually comes to the conclusion that Zuko backslid due to bad advice from his advisors and because he lost some of his memories. Aang then travels the nations looking for a cure to help restore Zuko’s memories.  

Azula escapes from the mental institute and Zuko sends bounty hunters after her to capture her. Soon, Azula gets bitten by a snake, so she finds help in the village of Jang Hui where she is healed by two waterbenders, who are taking refuge there. Jang Hui is the village Katara helped in The Painted Lady. And the villagers aren’t on good terms with the firelord. The villagers accept her and assume that she’s on their side because she’s made an enemy of the Firelord. The villagers teach Azula how to heal people using firebending techniques inspired by water bending, and she ends up becoming a fisherwoman because it’s a fishing town. She starts to warm up to the town, but one day she overhears the waterbenders talking about sneaking out to sabotage the smelting factory(which is currently undergoing reconstruction) in order to help the villagers. Azula offers to join their mission, and the three sneak out to destroy the factory, but she betrays the waterbenders over to the fire nation in hopes that she might bring glory to the fire nation. But now that the waterbenders are captured and eliminated, the town is defenseless. Zuko’s army burns the town down leaving few survivors. Zuko didn’t exactly authorize the attack, but he did give his generals permission to do whatever it takes to stop the villagers from trying to halt the rebuilding of the factory used for the war effort. A few survive and declare revenge on Azula for what she did.  

Azula starts to feel terrible about betraying the people who saved her life and indirectly causing the village to be destroyed, since she didn’t know it would be destroyed. And she holds Zuko partially responsible for destroying the village. After wandering around, Azula looks through a telescope and sees Aang try to save a fire nation village from a volcano, and she also sees Zuko. Zuko does nothing after his corrupt advisors tell him to leave the village, saying that Aang will probably die, so Zuko runs away. But Aang manages to save the village from the erupting volcano. Azula gets accepted into the gang when she uses her new healing abilities to heal Aang, who is wounded by the volcano. They reluctantly team up to stop Zuko.

After wandering around the Earth Kingdom to look for a cure for Zuko's memory loss, the gang sees a massive stream of fire pour down from a few fire nation airships hovering above a village. The stream of fire burns the village to the ground, leaving few survivors. It turns out that fire nation scientists developed a highly addictive serum that can increase the fire power of any fire Bender. The downside is that prolonged use of the serum results in loss of the senses, and eventually death. Senses such as taste, smell, sight, touch, and hearing. Zuko intends take the serum and lead a fleet of airships to finish what his Dad started by burning the Earth Kingdom to the ground. After learning what Zuko intends to do, even Aang feels tempted to give up on him.

it's an interesting concept, but i have a few critiques.

first, if the gaang knows zuko lost his memory, why would they leave him in the first place? and even if they did that, surely there'd be somebody in the palace who could say "hey firelord zuko maybe don't restart the war dude wtf" or at least alert the gaang or something.

second, i've seen a lot of people try to have azula's redemption involve learning some kind of healing, and i gotta say, it very very rarely does anything for me. for starters, it (probably unintentionally) reinforces the northern water tribe's ideology that healing is inherently for women (the show admittedly also did this bc the only named male waterbender who uses any kind of healing in any canon that i'm aware of is unalaq). moreover, it's not something i think azula would be particularly good at or have much interest in.

also, why are there waterbenders in jang hui? it's a fire nation village. you said they were taking refuge, but from what, and why there? on top of that, azula knows zuko is firelord and doesn't know he's lost his memories, so why would she assume betraying the waterbenders to the fire nation would bring it glory? if she just broke out of the asylum, then the last time she saw zuko was when he and katara fought her during the agni kai.

third, if zuko lost his memory to a "poisonous" (???) spirit in the spirit world, why are they searching the earth kingdom for a cure? shouldn't they be looking in the spirit world? aang's the avatar, and iroh's gotten in before, so it shouldn't be the hardest thing in the world.

fourth, if zuko lost all his memories of books 2 and 3, he shouldn't know about ozai's plan to burn everything to the ground, since that wasn't established until after he returned to the fire nation with azula, mai, and ty lee.

finally, even before book 1 began, zuko was deeply loyal to his people, balking at the mere idea of sacrificing newbie soldiers for the sake of a win, so i can't fathom a world where zuko is ok with burning down jang hui (a fire nation village) just cuz.

i'm not trying to say there's no potential here, you have some very interesting ideas, but there's a lot that doesn't really work for me.

(to be fair tho i'm not a huge fan of anything involving much of the air acolytes bc i frankly could not give less of a fuck about them. i don't hate them or anything they just don't mean anything to me)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

withering whenever it's like "can't believe they did this Horror in tv y7 media" type thing When what that means is "made a reference to r rated horror movie" like can't believe an evident approximation of Recognizably Specific character or sequence or whatever is in there. like why not. and why is that in & of itself Impressive like well is the scene actually good / is whatever the Reference is being used for effective even without going "i get that reference." do we expect a kid to get the reference. do we expect it to be that motivating to be like "oh shit here it comes. clapping & cheering for Getting The Reference which is the only reason i showed up" like i fucking guess. that "yes, i too Get The Reference" motivation sure Apparently existing but it's so alien(tm) to me (oh my God this media that's not Teens & Up showed a Xenomorph(tm) (but not (tm) so as to be sued?) how?? &, the vision of this, i guess) like does the thing (oh my god. another generally recognizable horror movie. or movie poster) make sense if you don't go "ah, i know exactly what's being referenced :)", is there any broader Effect even if you do Get It. idgaf about clapping b/c They Said (A) Thing i recognize from other media & can like turn & be like "ah did you recognize this as well? delightful" like help. agonizing even if it Doesn't have any meaning If You Do Not Get It. was horrified myself at some interview doing a billions(tm) style Movie Quotation to expand on what someone said by going "oh it's like that scene in movie where she says quote & does moment that makes a trailer" & i was like yeah i do know that material but why was that Specifically invoked to make a point so generic it's barely relevant to that elaborate interruption....like that obviously i think it can be a lot of fun if someone is like "ah i too know that thing" but only if that leads to relevant in depth shared enjoyment of Some sort of specific element. not like oh hell yeah high five over the most superficial thing, or it being a bummer / Shame if you Don't too know that thing, who give a shit. i've never seen anything ever. but preexisting References / whatever passed around description/invocation of peak recognizable / memorable / relevant element sure reach me such that like oh yeah i Know Of xyz sequence without having ever seen that thing. probably without necessarily realizing b/c it had any function in its source material without knowing "ah, this is a reference. & i know it" & like there's no [wow this is a reference to whatever] that would motivate me in & of itself, i think the peak motivation was this sweet spot of like, i was Barely Online before being fourteen & already liked things as an individual experience so the idea that there were other people Liking & Knowing the same thing seemed a lot more impressive for a time lol. but it would still have to be specific enough, might've been like "ooh a reference to thing??" several times & then been like okay that wasn't that rewarding lol

obviously a matter of Taste like idc it's grating to me but have fun with [a reference??] revelry, i'm not making a specificass blog post to an audience of Four with this drive like "oh how i wish that this was Illegal" just like idgaf about wordplay/pun haters like whee yippee i'm a connoisseur, we're obviously having different experiences, i'm meanwhile also having the experience that i don't give a shit about Getting a reference alone or along with anyone else, regardless of any other effect [that which happens to be a reference] has / is used for. or it's like the Huh, What, of "when i like i song i'll memorize at least part of it probably, i like to sing along, if not Extra liking it & memorizing Most or All of it, perhaps with extra effort" (me) vs other people like huh wha i've never memorized a song in whole, much less on purpose, b/c i liked it. vs even if there's a song i really like (like a source material being referenced that i really like) i'm not gonna respond to Just The Title or effective title like half line from the refrain or anything, unsung. gimme a karaoke moment. idk

[sugoroo]

#MAKE HIM BEG (FOR THAT P☆SSY!)

ʚɞ summary. how the jjk men look when they beg for it. are they reluctant as they force the words out or pathetic as they whine for it? . . . ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso + sukuna.

warnings. fem!reader, pussydrunk men of course, oral (f receiving), masturbation, penetration (p in v), riding, mating press, sukunas inspired by that one scene in wolf of wall street yupp, 18+ mdni.

SATORU GOJO — BREAKS IN NO TIME!

satoru may spend a short while attempting to defy your orders to beg for what he wants, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away with a petulant pout pushing at his lips.

but with you sitting there oh-so-temptingly next to him on the bed clad in nothing but a fuzzy pink nightgown and looking so painfully beautiful, god is it hard to keep up his childish stubbornness.

just look at it from his point of view for a moment... he's the strongest; he shouldn't have to plead with anyone for anything, right? hell, one could even argue that you should be the one begging him to lay his hands on you.

but if he's being completely honest with himself, he doesn't quite feel like the strongest whenever he's with you — no, it's the opposite, in fact... you make him weak.

weak enough that he's willing to throw caution to the wind and abandon his infamous prideful streak entirely to beg for you.

"please." satoru mumbles under his breath, like a child finally apologizing to their parent after being sent to the corner and thinking about what they've done for the appropriate amount of time.

"what was that, toru?" you hum teasingly, raising an eyebrow and stretching your leg out to poke his thigh with your recently pedicured foot. "i didn't quite hear you."

the white-haired man groans dramatically, peering over at you with his wide, uncovered cerulean eyes. he's needy; you can see it dancing clearly in his irises — but you're not about to let him off the hook that easily.

"can you say it again for me, hmm?" you prompt in a tone just dripping with exaggerated sweetness as you slowly drape your leg across his lap, relishing in the way his pale hands visibly twitch at his sides with the desire to touch it.

your boyfriend looks like he's mere moments away from lighting up a hollow purple as he fixes his stare upon your leg, refusing to look anywhere near your own eyes as he forces out another, more desperate, "please."

"good boy," you praise as a reward, watching with bemusement as satoru tries to cover up the way the two simple words affect him. but you know him too well, and the subtle squirm of his hips against your leg gives him away. "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

satoru grumbles a few retorts under his breath, but quickly loses his train of thought when you lift your leg from his lap, slowly spreading both limbs to expose the sheer panties you'd adorned especially for tonight.

"oh, baby," he groans from low in his throat, pupils dilating at an alarming speed as his tongue darts out to wet his suddenly chapped lips. "look at you..."

"just look?" you repeat cheekily, tilting your head to the side as you observe his completely transfixed reaction — it's almost laughable how easily you can break him down into a pathetic mess. "you don't wanna touch even after you begged so nicely for me?"

"n-no!" satoru shoots back without missing a beat, mop of messy white locks bobbing as he frantically shakes his head from side to side. "i wanna touch, pretty girl. i really wanna touch... can i?"

you barely have time to nod before your boyfriend is between your spread legs, effortlessly pushing them even further apart as he buries his head exactly where he wants it to be — right up against the slick crotch of your translucent underwear.

and he's utterly drunk on everything about your pussy in moments; the tempting scent of your gushing arousal that wafts through the material as he rubs his nose against it, the way the see-through fabric sticks to your skin and allows him a perfect view of your puffy folds.

"so gorgeous." satoru mutters reverently, lovesick eyes flicking up to meet yours as his freakishly long tongue lolls out to lick a slow, thorough stripe up the soiled front of your panties.

you're not sure who moans louder; him or you. all you do know is that it doesn't take long for his eager mouth to be directly over your cunt, ruined underwear tossed somewhere nearby without a second thought.

"y'should... make me work for it... more often, baby," he pants against you between obnoxious slurps and frequent groans of enjoyment at your saccharine flavour. "somehow, it makes this pretty pussy taste even sweeter."

SUGURU GETO — TURNS THE TABLES ON YOU!

suguru has no problem in indulging you if you want to switch things up in the bedroom every now and again. you want him to beg for you? sure, he can do that.

...because he knows that the roles will be reversed soon enough.

so when you pull him away from your gushy cunt by his hair after he's just spent the last few blissful hours down there coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of your writhing body, he's waiting patiently for whatever you want to say.

"if you want to be inside me next... you have to beg for it," you say breathlessly, trailing your fingers from the back of his silky, loose hair down to the nape of his neck and squeezing. "can you do that for me, sugu?"

suguru pretends to consider it for a moment, tilting his head to the side and peering up at you with thoughtful violet eyes. after a few moments, he responds. "hmm... i see no reason why i can't."

your surprise is evident on your face at just how quickly he agreed — when you first decided you wanted to try this, you assumed it would take atleast a little bit of convincing to get him to go along with it.

...but apparently not.

"wow. um... just like that?" you chuckle in a soft puff of startled air, eyebrows raised as you watch him stand up from his knees and rest his large hands over your bare thighs.

"what? did you expect me to put up a fight or something, baby?" suguru purrs gently, leaning down so his face is inches from yours, hot breaths mingling together. "nah. my girl's pretty pussy is worth begging for, don't you think?"

you swallow thickly, his sultry words making a gush of arousal ooze onto the sheets beneath you as your eyes briefly flick down to his lips which are still swollen and shiny with your juices. "i wouldn't have asked you to if i didn't think so."

he releases a low, velvety laugh at this before slowly spreading your legs wider to make room for himself and crawling onto the mattress to settle between them.

suguru reaches down past the waistband of his grey sweatpants to wrap a tanned hand around his neglected cock, giving it a few pumps while his gaze stays fixed upon your glistening wetness.

and he just keeps doing this for a few long moments, making your body instinctively squirm around in need as you observe his ministrations with an air of impatience. "i-isn't this the part where you're meant to do the begging?" you force out, hoping your voice isn't too audibly uneven.

he simply smiles at this — a lilting, amused little smile that makes you feel like he might know something you don't. "i will, sweetheart. just getting myself ready first."

a few minutes pass, yet he still makes no move whatsoever to start pleading with you; and naturally, you're starting to become more and more restless, itching for something, anything to happen.

then suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, suguru pushes both his sweats and boxers down in one fell swoop, instantly drawing your attention to his thick, veiny cock as it slaps against his toned abdomen, reddened tip angry and drooling from all the teasing he's been doing to it.

and you're so fixated on the sight before you that you hardly even notice when he slyly lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his leaky cockhead around it in slow, infuriating circles.

"w-what are you doing, sugu?" you gasp, brows pinching in a mix of annoyance and pleasure at his deliberately un-coordinated movements; he's working you up on purpose... but why?

"nothing." suguru hums entirely innocently, blinking down at you with an air of nonchalance that doesn't fail to irk you.

for a while, silence falls between you as you both gaze intently at where your bodies are connected — so close to becoming one but not quite there yet.

and then, the somewhat tranquil moment is suddenly snapped into a thousand tiny pieces by the loud, wet slap! of your boyfriend's flushed tip slapping against your cunt.

and it makes you release a pitiful cry, needy hips instinctively bucking up against him in search of more friction. but he abruptly pulls away before your skin can touch again, still sporting that strange smile.

"you want something, pretty girl?" suguru croons in a deceptively sweet tone, reaching down to trail a slender finger down the supple skin of your tummy and relishing the way your hips buck again in response.

"y-yes," you whine pathetically, too desperate to be full of him to even process how this situation has somehow been turned completely on its head in mere minutes. "please, sugu... need you."

"thereee we go... who's the one begging now, hm?" he chuckles loudly, eery smile finally widening into the smug grin he's evidently been holding back this whole time. "see what i did there?"

"...i hate you."

"no you don't, baby."

and he's right; you don't. and when he distracts you by finally, finally beginning to ease himself inside your throbbing heat, you think maybe the tables being turned on you wasn't such a bad thing after all.

TOJI FUSHIGURO — YOU'LL HAVE TO WEAR HIM DOWN!

“—you want me to what?” toji grunts in response, a thick dark eyebrow raised in exasperation as he looks at you like you’d just grown a second head.

“you heard me perfectly fine, toji.” you huff with a small roll of your eyes. of course he isn't going to make this easy for you. he never does.

“you seriously want me to beg to fuck that needy little cunt of yours?” he scoffs loudly, jabbing a finger in the direction of your dripping core as if to prove his point. “i think you should be the one begging me to do that, dollface.”

“that’s what i do every night already,” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest and observing the way he simply shrugs in response. “we’re trying something different this time.”

“oh, are we now?” toji drawls mockingly, tilting his head to the side and eyeing you with a bemused half-smile tugging at his scarred lips. “and what makes you so sure i’ll even agree to go along with this, hm?”

“well… because if you don’t, then you get no pussy tonight.” you counter in a decisive hum, closing your legs and sealing yourself away from his view.

“really? that's the best y'got?” he snorts obnoxiously, waving a dismissive hand in your direction and turning his head back to the television screen at the end of the bed as if to showcase how unaffected he is by your threat.

toji may be stubborn as a mule, but so are you; which is a good thing because it means you work well together, but a bad thing (for him) because it means that two can play at this little game he’s started.

so while he pretends his attention is solely fixed on whatever is quietly playing on the tv, you not-so-subtly begin sliding a hand down the length of your body, eyeing him carefully for any signs of a reaction.

you know you’re making progress when he covers up the way a groan threatens to rumble from deep in his throat when he notices your hand finishing its descent and disappearing between your legs by clearing his throat into his fist.

he holds out for quite a while, honesty. it must be taking a herculean effort on his part not to snap when you begin releasing shameless moans and gasps of pleasure right beside him, coupled with the lewd squelching sounds emanating from your cunt.

but toji is just a man, after all — and one that is not used to being denied what he wants, at that. so it's not long at all before he breaks, practically ripping his clothes to shreds in his haste to be inside of you right now.

you stop him before he can line himself up with your entrance by placing a hand on his bare chest, a victorious smile pulling at your lips as you tilt your head to the side. "forgetting something, big man?"

"huh? oh, y'mean a condom? sorry, baby, 'm all out." he mutters while shooting an apologetic grin in your direction, quickly turning his focus back to pushing his gushing tip towards your fluttering hole.

"no, not that," you chuckle in bemusement, giving his chest a light shove to stop his advances yet again. "i'm fairly certain i said no pussy for you unless you beg for it, didn't i?"

toji's grin falls comically fast, replaced by a small scowl of annoyance as he leans back on his haunches. damn it, he'd been foolish to hope you would've forgotten about that already.

"jesus christ, fine... please?" he forces out with about as much enthusiasm as a young child about to go to their first day back at school after a long vacation, the words coated in bitterness as they fall from his tongue.

"alright, i see you don't really want it then, so i'll just see myself out—"

"fuck no, you're not going anywhere, dollface," toji grunts before you can even take a single step towards the door, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and effortlessly pulling you down onto his lap. "i'll even beg all proper for ya, okay? please can i have you, mama?"

"...i suppose." you respond with a small smile, trying to hold back the smugness threatening to bubble up into your tone as you realize that your little plan actually worked.

but as per usual, you end up being the one begging for more once toji starts bouncing your pliant body up and down on his fat, curved cock that just fills you up so good.

...no surprises there.

CHOSO KAMO — BEGS ALREADY (A LOT!)

choso has absolutely no problem being pathetic for you.

he feels that it's a blessing just being able to exist in your mere presence, so it's only fair that if he wants anything more than that then he should ask nicely, right?

he has no idea why anyone wouldn't get down on their knees and beg for the privilege of getting to touch someone as pretty as you, especially when you walk into the bedroom in nothing but one of his oversized shirts.

"baby..." choso mutters quietly, voice already slightly whiny as he watches you perch yourself on the edge of the bed he was lazily sprawled across before your entrance.

"hmm?" you hum, feigning obliviousness, as you peer at him over your shoulder — and oh, is he adorable like this. all pale, blushing cheeks and an involuntary pout pushing at his full lower lip.

"you look so pretty right now," he murmurs quietly but sincerely as his wide chestnut eyes trail over your form with barely concealed reverence dancing in his irises. "...w-well, i mean, you always look pretty. but especially right now." he adds for good measure.

"why thank you," you respond with a soft smile, reaching out to lightly trail your fingertips across the distance of his sharp jawline and relishing in the way his entire body visibly shivers as a result. "is there by any chance something you want, cho?"

choso audibly gulps at the gentle and knowing tone of your voice, letting his eyes flutter closed for a few beats before opening them again. "m-maybe."

"maybe?" you repeat in a light chuckle, raising an eyebrow and grasping his chin between your thumb and forefinger to make sure his gaze stays directly fixed upon you. "i know you can do better than that, baby. c'mon, use your words for me."

his pouting lower lip trembles ever so slightly at your coaxing words, the rapidly growing bulge in his sweatpants twitching violently in a way that borders on painful in response. "want y-you."

"hmm... better, i suppose. but still not good enough." you tut in disappointment, removing your touch from his chin entirely and observing the way he chases after your hand with silent amusement.

slowly crawling across the mattress, you perch yourself upon his lap before the poor boy can even process what's happening, placing your hands over his hipbones to stop his inevitable squirming.

"if you want something, you have to be specific," you drawl in a low, sultry caress of a tone, languidly rolling forward against the not-so-subtle hardness you can feel beneath your ass. "now... tell me, cho, what is that you want?"

choso appears to be mere moments away from bursting into a fit of tears at your teasing movement, his pale hands clenching into white-knuckled fists against the bedsheets as he peers up at you pleadingly through the messy strands of dark hair that have fallen across his forehead.

"i-i want you to... to fuck me," he murmurs timidly, each syllable audibly shaking with embarrassment as it leaves his mouth. no matter how many times the two of have been intimate in the past, he still remains as shy as ever. "please."

"thereee we go," you coo warmly, hands giving his hips a gentle squeeze in reward for his obedience. "didn't even have to ask you to beg, hmm? you did it all on your own like a good boy."

choso merely nods furiously, his desperate facial expression doing all the talking for him as you lift your body up for a moment to tug his sweatpants (which are already decorated with a small pre-cum stain) down.

it's not long before you're settled atop his needy, pulsing cock, unable to resist his repeated adorable whimpers and mewls to feel you around him — and oh, does it feel better when you've teased him just a little beforehand.

he's going feral within seconds, pulling your pliant body down to his face practically suffocate himself with your pillowy tits while he ruts up into like an animal in heat.

as you brace yourself for a bumpy ride, you can't but think that if there's one thing you never have to worry about with choso as your boyfriend, it's him refusing to beg for you.

...but what you do have to worry about is the very real possibility of him bruising your cervix with how deep his relentless thrusts are reaching.

RYOMEN SUKUNA — KINGS DO NOT BEG... RIGHT?

ryomen sukuna is the king of curses. and, coincidentally, last time he checked; kings do not beg.

so when you have the sheer audacity to ask him to plead with you for the mere privilege of getting to touch your mortal cunt, to say he is outraged would be a dire understatement.

“absolutely not.” sukuna grunts firmly, crimson eyes narrowing in annoyance as he waves a dismissive hand in your direction, the action not dissimilar to what he would've to one of his old concubines when he was finished with them.

but you're irritatingly persistent, refusing to let the matter go for the entire duration of the night as if you truly believe there's a chance you can break his ironclad resolve.

"you must be deluded beyond comprehension to think i would ever stoop so low as to—" he begins to grumble, but for some reason, finds the end of his sentence disappearing from his mind when he lays eyes upon what you're currently doing.

there you sit, at the foot of his throne, skirt pushed up to reveal the lack of... well, anything underneath as you shamelessly sprawl your legs apart to give him an unobstructed view of your sweet cunt.

"fuck, woman," sukuna practically growls, the sound guttural and raw as it escapes from deep in his throat. he shifts subtly in his seat, craning his neck downward to get a better look at you. "what on earth do you think you're doing?"

"who, me?" you hum, feigning complete obliviousness as you slowly but surely lift a leg up and press the end of your high heel against the arm of his throne.

"yes, you," he scoffs incredulously, crossing his tattooed arms over his chest and attempting to continue remaining unaffected by your little display. "do you see anyone else in here flashing me their bare pussy?"

you make a show of glancing over both shoulders before turning back and shaking your head with a mock-innocent smile stretching at your lips. "huh. you're right, looks like i'm the only one."

sukuna only responds with an unamused grunt at your childish antics, the sound quickly melting into a rough groan when you lift up your other leg as well, body now entirely open and just ripe for the taking.

he finds himself instinctively reaching out a thick hand before he even realizes what he's doing, only for you to pin it down with the end of your heel without it managing to make contact with your skin.

"ah ah," you hum chidingly, tilting your head to the side and peering up at him through fluttering lashes. "you know what you have to do if you want to touch, ryo."

sukuna scowls fiercely, fully aware that he could effortlessly pull his hand from under your shoe and snap your pretty little ankle in half in one swift movement... but he won't do that, of course. (maybe)

he could also just take what he wants right here, right now, without having to humiliate himself by pleading — but he supposes if he's going to do something so utterly unbecoming of himself like begging for someone, it might as well be for you.

so as soon as the pathetic syllables of the word "please" leave his disgruntled mouth, he doesn't wait a single second to pounce on you, easily folding your legs up to your head so your heels frame either side of your face.

"but don't think this little stunt of yours will go unpunished," sukuna mutters gruffly in your ear as he impatiently tugs his robes open. "next time, i'll make you take both my cocks. then you'll be the one begging me; not for more... no, but for me to stop."

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[shares-a-vest]

'Steve Harrington – Actual Babysitter?' (Drabble Prompt: Fluff)

Eddie walks into Family Video expecting to find Steve lolling on his swivel chair behind the counter and flipping through a magazine instead of doing... Well, whatever actually is written on that clipboard Robin is typically flapping about for fear of the wrath of Keith.

But Robin isn't in today and the store is quiet. Aka, it's the perfect opportunity for Eddie to come in with Steve's lunch, where they sit together and chat. No, he doesn't bring it every Wednesday like clockwork. And no, he isn't bringing along his own lunch so he can pretend it's a date or anything.

No – definitely nothing like that.

Even if there is some banter that some people (Robin) might describe as flirting.

It's just that he has to take what he can get lately when it comes to his kinda-sorta big, fat, dumb crush on Steve. Especially now that the guy is disappointingly incommunicado on their no-longer Sunday Night pizzas.

Steve insists he isn't dating anyone – and he sure is complaining about that fact enough. But, well...

Eddie does worry.

And he damn near panics at the sight of an empty Family Video. The store is eerily silent too as he steps inside and looks around.

"St – "

"– Oovie!"

Eddie jolts with a yelp as the babbling yell of what could only be the shrill tones of a whole-ass human child reverberates around him.

"Yes, buddy," comes Steve's voice from behind the counter, "Oh – well, maybe not Rambo."

Eddie tip-toes forward and places his hands on the counter before he peers over the edge, where he finds Steve surrounded by the parts of a dismantled VCR. In his lap is indeed a human child, a boy with chestnut brown hair who couldn't be more than two.

He doesn't know all that much about kids, really, but Eddie is pretty certain the little squirt shouldn't be waving around a videotape with such force Steve might get clomped in the head at any moment.

The boy yell-babbles again and Steve swerves away from a side swipe to his beautiful noggin.

"Okay, maybe we shouldn't play with this one," Steve says, gently placing his hand on the tape and giving it a light tug.

The boy squirms, and in doing so makes direct eye contact with Eddie. They both startle, and Eddie thinks if anyone was watching, they might say his eyes look as wide as the kid's staring up at him.

The boy points at Eddie and coos with a big, toothy grin.

"Stee!"

"Can you stop –" Steve grumbles, cutting himself off as the boy begins to tilt them sideways. He looks up and gasps, "Oh!"

Steve scrambles upright with the boy, who makes an (admittedly, adorable) wooshing sound as he is swooped up and bundled into a pair of burly arms that today appear to be bursting out of the confines of a navy blue polo shirt.

Eddie blushes, looking back at the boy in an attempt to regulate his heart rate.

"What's with the baby, Steve?" he says, trying to sound biting rather than flustered as Steve props the kid on his hip like it's second nature.

Steve takes the boy's hand and bounces him a little as he tries to encourage a wave, "You know Angie, my mom's best friend? This is her kid, George."

George finally waves and Steve grins, all proud in a way that makes Eddie's cheeks blush. Shit, he really wasn't prepared for something like this to happen today.

Or maybe like ever, really.

"George," he nods, offering a two-finger salute.

"Angie stopped by and realised she forgot something over at Melvad's," Steve explains, swaying now as George looks around the store, "So I'm taking care of little Georgie for a minute."

Georgie?

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face.

"I s-see," he splutters as he comes up for air.

"And we are fixing VCRs today, aren't we, Georgie?" Georgie tee-hees at that and oh goddamn it, now the little gremlin is trying to get his tiny, pudgy arms around Steve for a hug, "Then we're gonna pick a movie for Sunday Funday."

"Oovie!" Georgie cheers.

Wait.

"You're babysitting on Sundays?"

"Yeah," Steve shrugs before looking down at George with a fond smile, "I kinda like it, y'know?"