#shes demanding fanfiction

[justalittlelilac]

Me: yeah, I'm just bummed because there's not a huge amount of content for Our Life out there.

My girlfriend: Well, then that just means you'll have to make some.

Me (stuttering): well...no...that's not...but like...I...

[kylorexy]

If anyone is willing to accept a prompt, I submit:

Katniss and Peeta are reunited in Mockingjay and Peeta wasn’t hijacked. However, he’s still under the same impression he was in Catching Fire that Katniss chose Gale and is with him, so he doesn’t kiss her or make any romantic moves. Katniss is confused blah blah, miscommunication blah blah, HEA.

[chutzpahhooplah]

I’m about to be really mean and judgemental for a second about a niche group on social media that’s probably mostly teenagers

I always wonder about the levels of separation people who like to selfship on main have to use on themselves to have the confidence to slap a dni on their twee little puerile fantasies

imagine being able to turn your nose up at any type of shipping when you’re so insecure and delulu you can’t stand to see other people fantasize about your fictional boyfriend who’s never going to do anything with you outside of your own head

[sporadicthingcollection]

this fic has everything

Cute premise

Flirty gropey thirsty bratty insecure Buggy

“Sick of his shit but still loves him” reader

Smooooooth swerve into s a u c y

💄/10 highly recommend

I won't treat you like you're oh so typical

Buggy wakes you up to help him with his makeup and he sometimes get grabby.

Rating: Soft R? Idk. Some swearing, and uh, innuendos. No sex. I plan to write sex at some point but I just wanted to keep this kind of fluffy for now. Warnings: Insecure!Buggy because that's my anime husband right there, needing assurance while his lady does his makeup. Some swearing. Buggy is kind of a brat in this. A/N: Inspired by the image of that woman sitting on top of another doing her makeup. The title comes from "Closer" by Tegan & Sara.

“You have got to stop moving, Buggy.” You warned as you held the eyeliner pencil near his eye. “Do you want to be known as Captain Buggy the One-Eyed Clown? Because that’s what’s going to happen if your hand grabs my ass again.”

“But baaaabe!” He whined underneath you. You sat up and crossed your arms as you looked down at him. Currently you had him laying underneath you on your shared bed while you straddled him to do his makeup. Barely twenty minutes ago he woke you up from a deep sleep, demanding you help him with your makeup. You were still in your damn pajamas as you sat on top of your silly boyfriend.

“Buggy.” You sighed. “I can’t get this done if you keep groping me.”

“I can’t help it!” Buggy pouted. “Why are you trying to seduce me while doing my makeup? I can’t control myself when you’re dressed like this!”

You rolled your eyes. This being your pajamas. Light green boxer shorts with bananas printed on them and a shirt you cut the sleeves off of. Of course he’d find that sexy. You held the pencil up threateningly. 

“Let me continue or this is going to take all day.” You told him as you leaned back down. He sighed and settled back down on the bed. While you managed to keep his arms pinned to his sides with your knees, his hands still could wander. You cursed his Devil Fruit powers when it came to situations like this. Sure, they were great for getting things off tall shelves or scratching your back when he was busy, but times like this you cursed it.

“Oh, what big plans do you have?” He asked as you worked the pencil around his eyes carefully. You didn’t respond at first, being careful not to jab him in the eye either on purpose or on accident. You sat up just enough to make sure the job was done well before you sat back up to grab the next bit of makeup. “Does it involve getting naked at any point with your fearsome Captain boyfriend?”

You gave him an unamused look as you grabbed a different pencil, the one you used to draw the skull on his forehead. “I was planning on going back to sleep because my silly Captain boyfriend woke me up to do his makeup and won’t stop trying to feel me up.”

He grinned cheekily at that as one of his hands did grab your ass, giving a sharp pinch to your left cheek. You yelped and reached back to swat at his hand before looking back at him. “Come on!”

“Stop seducing me then!” He whined. “Why do you have to be on top of me every time anyway?”

“Because… of the lighting, Buggy.” You told him as you lied through your teeth. This wasn’t the first time you’ve done his makeup like this. In the past you tried while he sat at his vanity, but found it hard to get the right lighting. Not to mention there was a mirror there and he could see everything you did. He made it a point to give a running commentary about what you were doing wrong and it drove you crazy. You finally gave up and had him lay down on the bed where you could see his face better and have better angles for his makeup. “And the shadows on your face throw me off when you sit down. If I do it this way, I can see your beautiful face more clearly..”

He fell silent as you called his face beautiful, and you noticed his cheeks were a little red. You smiled and kissed him on the forehead before you finished drawing the skull and crossbones. You looked down at him and grinned. So far the makeup wasn’t looking half bad. The last bit was applying the red lipstick. This was actually your favorite part because it was the easiest, and honestly, his lips were so soft to touch that every time you did apply his lipstick, you couldn’t help but kiss him afterwards. 

You grabbed his chin gently to keep his head still as you dabbed it over his lips carefully, making sure to apply it thick. He looked up at you as you did, taking notice how focused you were and how you even stuck your tongue out in concentration. It was… it was cute. He liked seeing you like that. He managed not to pout when you let go of his chin, but when he felt your thumbs on his lips, no doubt to smear the excess lipstick around his mouth, he couldn’t help but kiss at the pads of your thumbs. 

You smiled and cupped his head in your hands gently as you leaned down to kiss him. Fresh makeup on Buggy was always a glorious sight to see, because you knew in a few hours it would start to fade, smear, and look unkempt. You had the honor of seeing him first each day.

After a moment, you nipped at his bottom lip gently before you pulled back from the kiss. You reached up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, looking surprised to see so much red lipstick on it. You must have overdone this time. When you looked back at Buggy, however, you saw the look in his eyes and began to have regrets.

“Buggy…” 

He wasted no time pushing you on your back and rolling on top of you, forcing your legs apart as he grinned down at you. He reached up to touch your lips, dragging his thumb over them slowly, and when he pulled his hand back you could see there was still lipstick on you. You rarely wore makeup, not really enjoying it on yourself as much as you enjoyed seeing it on Buggy. He stared at your lips for a moment longer before he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, working his way to your jawline and to your ear, humming in appreciation as he saw the red marks he was leaving. 

He pressed a kiss to your earlobe before whispering, “You really think I’m beautiful, or are you just saying that so I fuck you?”

Honestly, it caught you off guard. He was beautiful. Fuck, his eyes, hair, nose, everything about him was beautiful. His personality, at times, drove you crazy, and he knew that, but you also knew he still had insecurity about his looks and being a pirate and, well, everything. He was just insecure. You reached up and put your hands on his cheeks, smushing them forward and making his lips pucker; he was resembling a goofy fish at that moment.

“The most beautiful person I’ve ever known, Buggy.” You assured him as you pulled him down for a kiss, holding on for just a moment before pulling back and pressing your lips to his nose. You could feel him tense up, and you were proud of him for not pulling away. After letting go of his face, your hands removed his bandana and your fingers began combing through his hair. “Fearsome and flashy, Captain Buggy.” 

“That so?” He grinned, the moment seeming to pass now. “Tell me more then.”

“I’d love you.” You replied. “If you get off me and let me finish your damn makeup.”

[fazcinatingblog]

Don't you hate it when your boss is like "do not send this out until I approve the invoice" and then 5-7 business days later, she says to increase the invoice by $5 and

[itsjustevil]

This time the fanfiction I will be demanding is not Barry adopting another Barbarian, or even any fun crossover dynamics, and instead just Gorgug being forced to hang out with Arthur and "Old Gilly" as he works overtime with them to solve the Time Quangle. Just this teenager constantly having to go Quangle himself and interact with bizzare fucking strangers, and then return and deal with the last two fuckint people he wants to see. Sometimes Ayda's there but she actually gets to leave to go on dates with Fig. Gorgug asks/nearly begs to come with, but Ayda has just learned about the concept of Third Wheeling and insists that no Third Wheeling of any kind gets in the way of her make out sessions. It's just Arthur Gorgug and Gilear. Gorgug hates every second of this. Worst extra credit assignment ever.

[askshivanulegacy]

Ok, so ... you have that same position for fanart, right?

Do you buy fanart? Do you commission your favorite fandom pairing? Do you support the Patreon or Ko-fis of fanartists? Do you go to Artist Alleys at conventions and comic cons for art prints? Do you buy homemade plushies of fandom characters? Do you buy fandom clothing, jewelry, or costume pieces made by independent artists?

If you answered yes to any of these then fanfiction can and should also be sold.

Fanfiction is not different than any other fan craft. It is no more illegal than any other fan craft that almost everyone here is definitely supporting.

If fanartists can sell their works online or in person, if they can have tip jars for people to express appreciation, then so can fanauthors.

But if you're going to maintain the position that you can't offer tips to fanauthors and you can't let fanauthors sell printed copies of their own works, then STOP supporting all fanartists right now.

Stop going to conventions and buying prints. Stop buying homemade plushies. Stop buying homemade jewelry and clothing and costumes if it has anything to do with an existing IP.

Let Artist's Alley collapse.

Do you see how hypocritical this is?

You can either have both, or none at all. That fanfiction somehow deserves less support than other crafts directly leads to the impression that it's the lesser art form. A03's practices of denying support for authors contributes to this.

I'm not saying that A03 doesn't do good work, but it is NOT all sunshine and roses (they recently advocated for AI, btw). There are negative consequences ... like the fact that so many people visit A03 but you're all only out there reblogging pictures and not stories.

The fact that not one single fanfic advocate is pointing out this discrepancy between fanfic and fanart sends the message that writing is not real art. It's a continuation of the deep belief that fanfic and fanauthors don't deserve your support, your reblogs, your comments, or your sharing of their works because written words aren't as good as visual art. I wonder why fanfic authors are out there crying about not getting recognition?

This is part of why they don't.

Selling fanfic is not more dangerous than selling fanart. It's the same inherent risk. Why aren't any of you pointing it out? Why aren't any of you advocating for some kind of positive change that allows support of fanfiction, instead of stonewalling every single attempt to elevate fanfiction to the level of fanart, as it deserves?

This is a problem. The position that "no one can sell fanfic" (false), is not a good position, and it needs to be called out. More of you need to be saying, "wow, it's too bad that it's so hard to sell physical copies of my fanfic," not "thou shalt never sell fanfic ever."

If fanfiction can only exist if it's free, then fanart can only exist if it's free, and we know the latter just isn't true.

I'm all for keeping fanfic and fanart free for viewing and reading online. At no point should any of this ever be gatekept behind some paywall - I'm looking at you, Patreon artists with your fanart how-tos and nsfw fanart locked away behind pay schemes. But tip jars if you liked something? Yes. Physical copies that you can either order or buy in person? Yes. Commissions of something specific that isn't already made? Yes!

Is the environment perfect for selling fanfiction? No, of course not and I don't say that it is. But we should be trying to get there. At the very least, we should be TALKING ABOUT IT, not running scared because you "can't" (you CAN). You cannot answer to me that "it's illegal" if you support any other kind of fan craft.

THAT'S the real misinformation - that no one acknowledges authors should be able to sell their works too because it is not different.

Authors should be able to set up an Artist's Alley table and sell printed copies of their work. They should be able to have tip jars.

Btw, if you're an author who wants a tip jar, you can go create one RIGHT NOW - just link your A03 to an intermediate hub like tumblr or instagram. You can offer your bound copies there too, if that's something you want to do.

I am never not going to keep pointing this out. All I ever see is this one, stale tune and nobody trying to do better. And look, if you never support fan stuffs ever because it's "illegal" then all the power to you, and this essay isn't for you.

This essay is for the hypocrites who support visual art but not written words. I see you and I'm calling the bluff. I demand better for our writers, and I'm not afraid of saying so. Your position devalues fanfiction and puts authors at a disadvantage. It says "we'll pay artists because they deserve something for what they do, but you authors better keep cranking out those words for me." You should be working create better environments for writers.

STOP SELLING BOUND FANFICTION

I cannot blame them for pulling their works, in fact I'm proud of them for doing so. Fanfiction is a community of gifting. As authors we write fics and share our works for free. Fanfiction is a weird, fragile, liminal space that can crumble at any time. This fragility needs to be respected.

If you want fanfiction to be around for you to enjoy, then the rules need to be respected!

You can bind fics. You can gift bound fics. DO NOT SELL BOUND FICS!!

Or soon we won't have fanfiction anymore and the world will be much darker for it.

[cvntluver444]

tied down ellie williams

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

✂ summary : dominating ellie eeek

✂ warnings : smut minors and men dni, not proofread ugh sorry, sub!ellie, dom!reader, begging, bondage, vibratorrr, dirty talk, fingering (ellie r), oral (ellie r), 'mommy', consent to be tied up not verbally given but this is a FANFICTION!!! consent is sexy so ALWAYS ask! if i missed any pls lmk!

✂ a/n : got high and wrote this i neeeeed her. sorry for being MIA too whoops school is just taking up my time and i have not had a chance to write omg it’s killing me but hopefully this will keep you guys fed!!

🇵🇸 as always please remember to keep supporting and spreading information on Palestine! 🇵🇸

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

you climbed on top of ellie, lips fighting hers for dominance. her hands quickly glide up and down your waist, causing you to moan into her mouth. once her back finally hit the bed, you climbed on top of her and straddled her legs. growing impatient, you cut off the kiss.

"don't move," you demand, and she stays in place, watching you look through your drawers, eyes lighting up as you grab the little black rope from your hiding spot. she smirks once she finally realizes what your holding.

"ah, you wanna get tied up?" she asks. you nod your head no, a teasing 'nu uh' a breathy response leaves your lips as her face now falls in confusion. "im gonna tie you up, baby," you tell her, your weight shifting from side to side as you stand in front of her, intimidating her.

before she can respond, your rushing up on top of her again and lips are meeting hers. you place the rope to your side and slowly slide your hands under her shirt. you run your hands over her body before you're tugging her shirt up, begging her to take it off. she quickly discards of her shirts, hands heading straight towards you afterwards.

you two rip off each others clothes until you're both completely naked, and you fall on top of you, distracting her with your lips as your hands reach for the ropes. you slowly start tying her up, starting with each wrist, littering her face and neck with kisses as you do so. her quiet moans fill the room as you tease her.

you give her one last kiss before slowly crawling backwards to tie up her feet, eyes never leaving hers. you send her a smirk, while she looks at you with a begging look in her eyes, wanting so badly to be touched by you.

you finishing knotting the last rope and step away to look at your girlfriend, tied up, and begging for you to fuck her.

"please baby come back and touch me please," she groans. you scoff at her, but after a couple seconds, you strut back to the bed, only this time, stopping in front of her exposed pussy. you bite your lip at you stare down at her before dropping to your knees.

you leave light kisses on her thighs, causing her to jolt and let out a grunt. "fucking tease," she whispered under her breathe, causing you to bite down on her skin.

"be nice," you demand. "you wanna cum, right?" you ask her, innocent look in her eyes. she nods her head quickly and allows you to continue.

your kisses now move closer to where she needs you most, and you hear her gasp as you finally lay one kiss on top of her clit. you hold it there for a a bit, eyes staring into her shut ones.

"don't you want to watch me eat your pussy, els?" lust laced in your voice. her eyes quickly open as she stares back down at you, a string of yes's leaving her lips. you giggle before diving back into her cunt, this time, moving your tongue around her folds.

she's a mess. trying her hardest to break free as you pick up your pace, your mouth never leaving her pussy. you moan into her cunt, which sends bolts of pleasure through her body. you stop for a second, a string of saliva following you as you pull away. Shes in absolute awe of your beauty. makeup running, and lips glossy with her precum. before she can get too distracted, you climb up back towards her and shove two fingers into her mouth.

"good girl, get them all wet," you praise her, and she rolls her eyes in pleasure. you pull out your fingers, and start teasing her entrance with them.

"please baby, please fuck me," she begs you.

"gotta be patience, baby," you tell her, fingers slowly entering her, then pulling out so she only feels your fingertips. "such a pretty pussy, desperate to be fucked, hm?" you ask her, a put on your lips, almost mocking her.

"yes wanna be fucked so bad... mommy," she lets out, and your pussy clenches.

"oh? mommy? you dirty girl," your fingers now burry deeper inside of her, and tears now weel up in her eyes with how badly she wants to cum. "are you gonna be a girl girl for mommy and let me play with you?'

"ill do anything for you mommy," she confesses, and your heart swells. you figured she had enough teasing for now, and you finally start pumping your fingers in and out at a fast pace.

now she's a mess. tears coming out of her eyes as your fingers hit just the right spots.

"does that feel good baby?" you ask her, eyes focused on the beautiful faces she's making.

"so good, mommy," she struggles to tell you. "making me feel so good, im so close." you loved her praises, and wanted more.

you stop suddenly and get up from your spot. ellies head shoots up and her worried eyes follow yours.

"no no no what are doing please i was so close," she stutters out, desperate for your touch.

"shut up," you say, her begging giving you a headache. you go back to the same drawer, pulling out something different, and ellie bites her lip once she sees what you have. a vibrator!!!! (yippeeee)

you stalk towards her again, hands toying with the little device in you hands. this time, instead of kneeling in front of her, you climb beside her.

with her hands and legs still tied down, you cup her face with your hands and shove your tongue in her mouth. with both of you desperate for each other, your both fight for domination. your one hand now sneaks back to your side to grab the vibrator. you turn it on the lowest setting and start dragging it down her body, starting at her neck.

you slowly move towards her tits, circling her nipples which causes her to gasp and let out a loud moan. you chuckle and give her a peck on the cheek, now moving it lower and lower.

you copy your movements from before, and tease around her pussy before finally placing it right on top of her clit. her body jolts up and her back lifts off the bed.

"fuck fuck fuck mommy that feels so fucking good," she curses.

"you like when mommy ties you down and uses you?" you ask her.

"yes mommy, love it so much." she responds back. her state causes you to finally fold. you flip over on your back, and with your hand closest to ellie, you keep the vibrator right on her clit. her eyes widen as you take your other hand and start sucking your own fingers. mouth agape and eyes focused on you, ellie watches as you then bring your fingers to your own pussy.

fuckkk you hear ellie curse, completely turned on by you pleasuring yourself. you slip your fingers through your folds and tease both you, and ellie.

“yes please play with it. love your pussy, so fucking pretty,” ellie pants out. annoyed with her rambles, you pull the toy away from her and she whines.

“shut up,” you demand. she groans, but tries her best to be quiet. you see her efforts, and decide that it’s enough. you slowly put the vibrator back on her clit, but not before slowly pumping two fingers inside yourself.

ellie is overcome with pleasure. she’s hypnotized by you, focusing on the way your fingers slip in and out of your wet pussy, teasing her, knowing she can’t touch you, help you, or make you cum. the view in front of her was drawing her closer and closer to her orgasm.

“gonna cum, els?” she shakes her head, unable to answer you. “me too baby, so close,” you pant. you and ellie turn towards each other, and frantically lean in, both of you struggling to kiss as your orgasms hit. you moan into each others mouths, little praises and i love yous being shared.

you both continue kissing as you calm down, bodies shaking and light moans filling the room. after one final kiss, you pull away. you both stare at each other, smiles crawling on your face from how good you both felt. after a moment of silence, ellie speaks up.

“ok. untie me now,” she jokes. you get up slowly, and undo the knots around her ankles and wrists. as you untie her last hand, you feel her grab your waist and she pulls you beside her. ellie gets up and straddles your waist, trapping your hands together as she begins to now tie you to the bed frame.

“ellie,” you stutter. “what are you doing?” you try to mask how turned on you are with a worried look, which only adds fuel to the fire. once she finishes, her naked body backs up to look at yours, copying your teasing from before. “ellie please, don’t be mean,” you beg. she stays silent, arms folded, causing her tits to push up more.

“your turn,” is all she says, before she grabs the vibrator and stalks toward you.

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

i love uuuuuuu

[yikes-aemond]

I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part II)

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)

warnings: 18+, smut, canon typical violence, cursing 

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood return to the woods where your story began. Things get heated. 

word count: 3.6k

author note: Thanks so much to everyone for your kind words about this little story. This is my first time posting fanfiction, and I am overwhelmed by the response. And in case anyone is curious, I pretty much listened exclusively to Taylor Swift’s “Guilty as Sin?” while writing this. Love you babes. Happy reading! 

part I can be found here. part III can be found here. part iv can be found here.

A madness plagued you, of that there could be no doubt.  

Days had passed since the boundary stone incident. But you could barely bring yourself to leave the confines of your chambers. You did not want to see anyone. Not your father. Not your fellow ladies or maids. And certainly not Aeron. 

You only wanted to see Benjicot. Lay eyes on him and hold him and confirm that you were not alone with these feelings. 

In your heart, you knew that he must feel something. No Blackwood would withdraw from a challenge with a Bracken as quickly as he did after your plea without feeling anything. But your mind played tricks on you, turning over every interaction, every look, every word between the two of you.No promises had been made. No tender feelings shared. 

What if you had imagined it all? That thought alone kept you awake at night, tossing and turning with no relief. 

And gods, did you crave relief from this sweet torture. 

You felt trapped beneath your own skin, aching and longing for something that you could not fully name. But even though you did not know the full language of lovers, did not know exactly what happened between a couple when they lied together, you knew enough. Knew that pleasure could be found between your thighs with a twirl of your fingers. Knew it was a sin, but could not bring yourself to care. 

You could not get the look of Benjicot’s enraged face out of your mind. Flushed cheeks, wide eyes, snarling mouth. Even the cuts, bruises, and blood on his hands called to some primal part of you. The way he defended you, fought for you. He was a force, and the thought of having all that frenzied energy focused on you was enough to send you over the edge. 

You touched yourself to images of Benjicot that flashed through your mind. His face hovering over you. His arms encircling your body. His hands touching you. Unlacing your dress and removing your small clothes. Warm, strong, calloused hands traveling across your breasts, hips, and thighs. Moving higher and higher until he reached the core of you. 

And when you reached that pentacle of release, it was his name you sighed allowed. 

This madness had to end. 

So, in the early morning hours before Stone Hedge woke, you made your way back to the woods where it all began.  

You did not know how long you walked but you suspected hours. The sun was steadily rising in the sky, warming the air and casting shadows through the trees. You only vaguely knew the right direction to Raventree Hall and prayed to both the old gods and the new that you were on the right path. 

Not that you really had a plan once you reached Raventree Hall. It was not as if you could march up to the front door, knock, and demand to see the heir. The fact that you were a Bracken almost guaranteed that at best, such a request would be refused, or at worst, end with your head on a spike. 

But even when your legs began to tire and sweat dripped down your brow, you pushed forward—determined that today would be the day you received answers. 

That is until you tripped over a tree root, stumbling to the ground. You landed awkwardly on your front, both hands throbbing from cuts and scrapes you gained while trying to break your fall. But at least you had not rolled your ankle this time. 

Just as you began to pick yourself up, you felt a presence behind you. You were not sure if your imagination was playing tricks on you, but the forest itself seemed to quiet. You could no longer hear the wind rustling the leaves, nor birds chirping or insects humming. 

All your attention focused on one thing. Him. Benjicot. Every part of your being knew he was the one behind you. 

You felt the ghost of his touch before he surrounded you. His front to your back, both kneeling on the ground. His hand brushed against your hip before he leaned in and whispered, “Didn’t I tell you that these lands were not for Brackens, my lady?” 

You tried to turn to face him, but Benjicot stopped the motion by bringing his arm across your stomach, caging you against him. “How typical,” he scolded. “A Bracken who can’t do what they are told.” 

Your senses were overloaded. You could practically hear your heart pounding against your chest. Everything about Benjicot pulled you further and further into his snare—his touch, his scent, his voice. You had never felt so helpless. And you liked it.

But as quickly as Benjicot had trapped you, he let you go. One moment, he was supporting your weight against him, and the next, you were unmoored and alone. Leaping to your feet, you turned to finally face the man who had singlehandedly ruined your sanity and good sense. 

Benjicot had put distance between the two of you. At least two strides away, he was no longer within your reach. A part of you rebelled at the distance. For six years you had longed to be in his presence and have his attention focused on you. And now that you were here, in this place where your fates first intertwined, you could not bear the space. 

But something held you back. The look on Benjicot’s face. He’s angry.

You had witnessed his legendary temper in action, had seen the bloody results. But Benjicot’s anger had never been directed toward you. Even when you first encountered him in these woods all those years ago, he had not been angry. Exasperated and intrigued, sure. But never angry. 

Yet there was no mistaking the look on his face now. His eyes were cold and distant, his lips turned down. He looked at you as if you were a stranger. And you did not care for that at all. 

Breaking the silence, Benjicot asked, “What are you doing here?”

His gruff voice sent a thrill down your spine. For a fleeting moment, you tried to keep your composure, tried to mold your face into a mask of indifference as he had done. But you had neither the patience nor skill to do so. Your emotions always stayed close to the surface, threatening to unleash and break free at any moment. 

“What am I doing here?” you repeated back to him. “I’m here to see you. I thought that was rather obvious.”

Benjicot’s eyes narrowed at your tone. A break in the unfeeling facade he had erected. “I told you that these woods were not safe. I told you to not come back here. I told you—”

“I know what you told me!” Your own anger rising to meet his. “I have thought about what you said to me in these woods every godsdamn day for the last six years,” you seethed. 

Benjicot rolled his eyes at your tantrum. “And yet, here you are.”

Unbelievable. You threw your hands into the air in frustration, eyes seeking the sky for patience. “Well maybe I would not have had to go traipsing through the woods if you had bothered to do something about our situation!” 

A beat passed before Benjicot responded. “Our situation?” he asked, amusement echoing in this tone. “And what situation might that be, my lady?  

You, once again trespassing on Blackwood land in violation of the assize? You, who apparently has no care for your own wellbeing, wandering into these woods alone and defenseless? As helpless as a newborn fawn, completely at the mercy of those who would strike first and ask questions later? That situation?” 

You wanted to tear the smug look off his face. Maybe you really were a Bracken through and through. Because at the moment, you understood with perfect clarity why your ancestors had feuded since time in memoriam. 

You did not know why he was acting this way. Why he was trying to push you away. Why he refused to acknowledge the meaning behind your words. Except— 

What if he did not share your feelings? What if you had really imagined it all?

Your anger fled as quickly as it had appeared; replaced instead by a wave of nausea at your own foolishness. Of course, he did not feel the same way. You were a Bracken. Maybe he thought you were a pretty face to look at, maybe he would have had you warm his bed, but he could never love you. 

You felt the color drain from your face. Trembling, you turned away from him. You could no longer bear to look at him. You needed to get away. Needed to leave this place while you still had the strength to stand. 

You fled. Running as fast your legs could carry you, you weaved through the trees with no thought for direction or destination other than away, away, away. 

The moment you turned away, Benjicot realized his mistake, letting his anger over your lack of self preservation win out over the joy he felt when he found you again in these woods. 

And perhaps his anger was a result of the shame he felt. Shame for waiting so long to go to you that you had felt the need to put yourself at risk to seek him out. 

Benjicot had faced countless opponents and impossible odds, and never once had he wavered. Never once had he questioned his skill or fortitude. But the thought of you being in danger, or gods, someone hurting you, was enough to send him into a panic. 

He chased after you. 

You might have gotten a head start, but Benjicot was faster. He knew these woods like the back of his hand, and there was no place you could go, no place you could hide, where he would not find you. 

Spotting you up ahead, Benjicot surged forward, grasping your arm and pulling you into him. You collided into his chest, nearly sending you both to the forest floor. But Benjicot caught you, both of his hands now resting on your arms to steady you. 

You were both breathing heavily. No space existed between you now. You did not understand him. Did not understand why he did not let you escape in peace. You were close to tears but refused to allow Benjicot Blackwood to steal anymore of your dignity. 

“Let me go, Blackwood,” you demanded, trying to pull away from his grasp. But Benjicot held firm, tightening his bruising grip on you. 

Shaking his head, Benjicot pulled you further into arms, until you stood chest to chest, with your arms caged in between. He was a good head taller than you, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. 

Your breaths mixed together as the silence dragged out between you. Only when you tried to pull away again did Benjicot finally say, “I have watched you from afar.”

You finally stilled. Eyes widening, you waited for him to continue. “And I know you have watched me, too.”

Color returned to your face, as you tore your eyes away from his searching gaze. “Do not hide from me now, Bracken.” When you failed to respond, Benjicot scoffed, “I never took you for a craven.”

You felt your blood begin to boil. How dare he call you craven. Shoving at his chest with all your strength, you shouted, “The only one craven here is you, Blackwood!” 

“Oh, please enlighten me, how am I craven?” 

You stopped shoving at his chest, letting all of your frustration and ire rise until all you could see was red. “You dare admit to watching me, yet you refuse to acknowledge my feelings!” 

Benjicot flinched at your accusation. Now it was he who refused to look you in the eye. 

But you pressed on, “Because if you have been watching me for as long as I have watched you, then there can be no doubt as to my feelings. No doubt as to where my heart lies. But you ignored me for years. And now you have the audacity to mock me when I seek you out?” 

Benjicot’s eyes were back on your face, his gaze soft and pleading. A complete departure from the anger and fury he had shown you earlier. This man looked like your Benjicot. The boy who had rescued you. The man who had defended you. The one you loved with all your heart. 

His voice was quiet but his words strong, “I am a simple man, my lady. A simple man who needs plain words. What are these feelings of which you speak?”

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you sucked in a breath. You swore that he would have no more pieces of you. Swore that would you put an end to this madness. But your heart would always rule over your head. 

Finding your courage, you opened your eyes, and reached for his hand. Bringing his hand to your lips, you pressed a kiss to the cracked knuckles and whispered, “I have loved you ever since we met in these woods all those years ago.” 

Benjicot stilled. You were not sure if he was even breathing, but you pushed on, “You occupy all my thoughts and haunt my dreams. You consume me, and I—” You cut yourself off before you could continue. 

You tried to remain unaffected, but the longer Benjicot held you, the more your body betrayed you. You felt your blood racing through your veins, felt the heat rising to your cheeks, felt a slickness begin to gather between your legs. You tried to pull away again to give yourself a moment of respite from this torture. 

But Benjicot was having none of it. 

He watched the way you squirmed under his gaze. Watched the way your chest heaved from the force of your confession. Watched your cheeks grow flush and warm. And when he caught your eyes again and saw your gaze drift to his lips before licking your own, he knew he was a goner. 

“My lady,” Benjicot’s voice was like gravel, “had I known you were so afflicted, I never would have left you alone for so long.” 

Hauling you closer, Benjicot traced his fingers from your collarbone up your neck, watching as your pulse jumped. Cupping your cheek, he brought his face close to yours, mere inches separating the two of you, and confessed, “From the moment you cut yourself on my dagger, I have loved you.”

Now it was your turn to still. For so long you had waited to hear these words, waited to be in his arms. 

Benjicot kissed your forehead, mumbling against your skin, “No one else could ever compare to you, my lady.” He moved to kiss your jaw. “You are the bravest”—a kiss to your cheek—“strongest”—a kiss to your temple—“most beautiful woman I ever met.” 

Kissing the corner of your mouth, Benjicot pulled back momentarily to stare into your eyes. “From that day until the end of my days, there will only ever be you.”

You were at your breaking point. You could not hold yourself back any longer. Flinging your arms around his neck, you pulled Benjicot toward you and kissed him. 

And oh, what a kiss. 

Your advance might have thrown Benjicot initially off guard, but he recovered quickly, remedying the situation and taking control. One hand in your hair and the other at your waist, he moved your head to the position he wanted, slanting his lips over yours and feasting. 

His kisses left your breathless. Your head held no thoughts other than more, more, more. Benjicot’s teeth nipped at your lips, forcing your mouth to open and surrender. He wasted no time in stroking his tongue against yours, exploring and claiming. And when his hand moved from your waist to knead your breasts, you moaned into his mouth and pulled him closer. 

Your taste, your sounds, your very being—Benjicot wanted it all for himself. You owned him, body and soul. And he was greedy to own you in return. 

In the haze of his kisses, you did not realize that your feet no longer touched the ground. Benjicot had lifted you in the air. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, bringing the hardness of him against the softness of you. 

Your back was against a tree, but you did not feel the rough bark. You only felt Benjicot’s lips and hands, moving across your flesh, mapping and exploring. But when Benjicot made his way to the bottom of your dress, running his hand over your delicate ankle, he paused and pulled back. There was a question in his eyes—did you wish to continue?

You nodded eagerly. No doubt or hesitation with your choice. 

And Benjicot smiled. That wicked, feral smile he donned just before a fight. Another searing kiss to your lips before his hand began to move up your calf to your thigh. He was so close to where wanted him. Where you ached for him. 

But Benjicot paused just short of your cunt. And when you whined at his delay, he laughed and asked, “Tell me, my lady. Have you ever touched yourself before?”

Words were beyond you. You felt dizzied and dazed, but you managed a nod. 

Benjicot moved his hand another inch higher. Lips grazing your ear and hot breath on your neck. “And tell me, what did you think of when you touched yourself? What did you imagine when you brought your fingers to your warm, wet cunt?”

You wanted to die. This surely must be hell. You shook your heard, too embarrassed and flustered to answer. 

Benjicot started to move his hand back down your leg, but you clenched your thighs, trapping his hand between them. Raising your head, you glared at him, but all he did was smile. “I know what you want, my lady. And I am eager to please. All I ask is that you answer the question.”

Wicked, cruel, insufferable man. 

But you were desperate. An impossible ache had built inside you, and you knew that Benjicot was the only one who would relieve you.

So you put aside your pride. Clearing your throat, you whispered, “You. I thought of you, Benjicot Blackwood.”

And that was all he needed. Pushing aside your small clothes, he exposed your cunt to the air. You cried out at the feeling, arching against him as he finally slid his hand between your folds. 

The first brush of him against you dragged a groan from deep in your throat. Benjicot groaned in reply, delighted at the wetness he found waiting for him. His thumb circled your clit, pressing and dragging and teasing. His other hand worked your breast while his lips pressed into your neck. 

It was an assault on all fronts. Your body had never felt so hot. And when he plunged one finger into your core, you bucked your hips in response. 

“I thought of you, too.” How he managed to talk, you had no idea. But even through the haze of lust, you heard him. “Thought of you spread naked on my bed when I took myself in hand. Thought of your tight, wet heat on my cock. Thought of how soft you would feel, how perfect you would be for me.”

“Benji—” You whined as he added a second finger.  You had never felt so full in your life. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, lips against your ears. 

You pulled Benjicot’s face away from your neck and captured his lips with your own, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. 

Benjicot groaned, plunging his fingers in and out, hard and fast. Your existence narrowed to the feeling. You were so close, the tightness becoming nearly unbearable. You just needed one final—

The sound of your name on his lips was your undoing. Release barreled down upon you, so much so that you felt like you could break in half. You cried out Benjicot’s name, as his lips covered yours once again. The kiss was all teeth and tongue. You felt as though you were being devoured. 

You clenched around his fingers again, and Benjicot let out a curse. He stroked you through your release until you were limp in his arms, kissing you all the while. 

You could barely catch you breath. And when Benjicot finally pulled away and withdrew his hand, you met his stare and lost your breath all over again. Because the smile he gave you now was one you had never seen before. It was soft and tender and just for you. His lady. 

You wanted to stay in these woods forever. Your own sanctuary that could not be touched by outside forces. Just when you were about to express that desire, you felt Benjicot tense against you. 

And that’s when you heard. Voices. Loud and angry and coming closer by the second. 

You shot Benjicot a panicked look and watched as he transformed in front of your eyes. Gone was any trace of softness or warmth, replaced instead by a hard and vicious look that had you trembling.

Bloody Ben now stood before you. 

Lowering you to the ground, Benjicot tucked you between his body and the tree. He looked around, trying to decide the best course of action. You could practically see his mind at work, thinking through the various scenarios to get you to safety. 

You saw the moment he reached a decision. Leaning down, he pressed one final kiss to your lips and asked, “Do you trust me?”

You did not hesitate. “Of course, I trust—” But before you could finish, your world went dark. Benjicot Blackwood had once again knocked you unconscious. 

He only hoped that you would forgive him for what he was about to do. 

-- Let me know what you think! And don't worry lovelies--I'm already working on part 3.

taglist: @painted-flag @majoso12 @strollthroughstars29 @a-whiterose

[seungsuki]

can you do how korosensei would tease y/n and karma with their relationship!!

teasing - koro sensei taking the time to tease his favourite couple (gn!reader)

warning: none

note: i was in the raya mood but i didn't have anything to do so i wrote as quick as i could. THANK YOU ANON! this marks my first ever ask for writings :D

today was a long day. a very long day thanks to a certain yellow octopus. the old school building stood tall and proud in front of you. sometimes you enjoy standing still for a while to admire the architecture. it puzzled you about the history of the building. suddenly you were brought back into the real world when you felt a tug on your hand 

“let’s go?”, a certain redhead asked looking back at you in a worried manner 

you shook away your thoughts and plastered a small smile on your face. hands still tangled together, karma took the lead and you both walked into the building. you had to hold back the devil from trying to break into the teachers lounge before reaching the classroom. karma stopped you and opened the door before gesturing you to enter 

“after you, mi amor”, karma smirked 

“i did not know you were learning spanish”, you rolled your eyes at his silly antics 

“[name]! karma! you're 30 minutes late!”, koro sensei scolded angrily 

“sorry, teacher. had to show [name] some cool places”, karma winked at you

you could feel the heat spread on your face from embarrassment. looking down on the ground, you made your way to your seat, beside your redheaded boyfriend. you looked over to him and he simply smiled before looking back at the yellow octopus 

“today we’ll be reading a love story!”, koro sensei exclaimed as the class groaned 

at lightning speed, the papers were distributed within seconds. when you got a hold of the paper, a blush spread across your face. in horror, you read it and realised something. hands shaking a bit, you looked over at karma, who mimicked the same expression, yet he still looked calm 

“sensei.. this is a fanfiction of [name] and karma?”, nagisa raised his hand to ask 

“and why is [name] an idol?”, kayano peeped 

“o-oh pardon me students!! that was a private paper! tehee”, koro sensei scrambled around to collect the papers 

“wow so the pervert octopus writes fanfictions of his students”, karma teased the pink shaded teacher 

“what?!?! no no! not at all! i’m a teacher! why would i do such a l-lewd thing?”, koro sensei said panicking

the entire class erupted in an argument with their teacher. they demanded to see what else he wrote about his class, and koro sensei jumped and dodged the knives being thrown at him. from a pink shade, he changed into his usual yellow colour but with green stripes.

you were far too embarrassed to even say anything. kanzaki looked over to you from afar and sent her somewhat sorry expression, as if she was the one who started it. you placed your head between your hands and looked down on the table hoping to save your dignity 

“koro sensei you got some parts wrong. i took [name] to a skatepark, not some cheap cafe”, karma pointed out with the paper in his hand 

“can you feel bad for [name]..”, nagisa whispered to the red head 

“what is there to be embarrassed about? oi babe”, karma called 

he purposely had to add the last word since he enjoyed teasing you the most. you looked up at the smirking boy. you knew what he wanted. it was written in bold on his face and you wanted to curl yourself into a ball and not show up in public ever again 

“wanna give koro sensei a show?”, he teased 

“i rather not karma, i prefer if we all sat down and get back to the lesson”, you said increasing your volume at the last part 

“but i just brought my camera!”

you looked behind karma and saw that your teacher indeed prepared an entire gear. it looked like a professional filming for a drama scene. you noted that rio and maehara seemed to enjoy this the most. rio had an entire director's look as she had a rolled magazine held. maehara was holding the lights and gave you a thumbs up 

“why don’t you guys give us a kiss scene! we’d love that~!”, koro sensei teased while blushing at his thought 

you looked over to karma and quickly shook your head in disagreement. he noticed your discomfort and stopped his teasing. he loved it, he won't lie but he knows his limits. he swore to never make you do things you don’t want to. that was his charming point 

“alright party is over”, karma sighed and reached for your hand 

“i heard the arcade is having its yearly promotion. let’s go check that out”, he said intertwining his hands with yours 

“n-now wait a minute! we have class”, koro sensei tried stopping the duo 

“so? now you have something to write about”, karma stuck his tongue out to the teacher 

he casually walked away with you and closed the class door behind. as soon as the both of you left the class, a roar of loud comments came from the students and gossips were being created on the spot (mostly by rio) 

“an arcade? really?”, you asked as you both left the old school building 

“well yeah.. i mean i can take you to the skatepark to show off my tricks again”, he winked at you 

“plus we need to discuss on how we’ll get our revenge”, he said and you swore you could see a pair of devil horns 

you shook your head again before giving an exaggerated sigh. this was going to be a long day but does it matter? at least you can spend time with your lover. he may be a tiny bit crazy but you wouldn’t mind pushing that aside 

“sooo am i getting my kiss?”, karma asked with a smirk 

“of course” you replied 

unbeknownst to you both, the class had watched the entire event through the window. koro sensei seemed to be over the moon. he quickly pulled out his camera to take a picture and was even taking notes of the scene 

“should we stop him?”, kayano whispered to her blue haired friend 

“you can try”, nagisa awkwardly laughed 

© seungsuki 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator

[sarafangirlart]

Debunking some misinformation about Hephaestus and Aphrodite’s Marriage

I’m so sick and tired so I’m making a thread, enjoy. I’ll break it down into several points.

1. Hephaestus demanded Aphrodite’s hand in marriage in exchange for Hera’s freedom and Aphrodite was forced into the marriage

You’d be surprised by how this isn’t even attested in ancient sources, rather it’s just a theory made by modern scholars bc of how spotty and limited our knowledge about this marriage is, let’s look at the actual sources:

Notice how Aphrodite isn’t even mentioned mentioned as the “prize”? Hephaestus does ask for a goddess in exchange for freeing Hera, but it’s not Aphrodite, it’s Athena. The usual course of events is this:

Hephaestus is angry at Hera for her mistreatment and sends a golden throne that traps her

The other gods try to persuade him to free her but he refuses

Dionysus convinces him by getting him drunk

Again the theory that Aphrodite was the prize for whoever gets Hephaestus to Olympus is just that, a theory. Not a really good one either bc wouldn’t Aphrodite be married to Dionysus instead? It’s a really shallow portrayal of all figures involved tbh, why would Ares only be interested in freeing his mother if it meant he gets to marry Aphrodite? Why would anyone on Olympus not be worried about their queen being chained up? Believe it or not but Hera isn’t as disliked as one would think lol

Now even if Aphrodite wasn’t a prize how did she end up marrying Hephaestus? And was she forced into doing it? No actually (Lucian’s Dialogue of the gods):

That’s not to say this wasn’t an arranged marriage (it most likely was) but arranged marriage and forced marriage are not the same thing. If you think this is a forced marriage then what about Cadmus and Harmonia? Heracles and Hebe? Both these marriages were arranged by Zeus but no one would claim they’re forced marriages.

2. Aphrodite hated Hephaestus

Now this is more open to interpretation, after all love is subjective, but to say they outright hated each other would be incorrect, there is this myth that Aphrodite cursed Lemnos to have the men abandon their wives and female family members, usually bc they neglected on worshipping her (tho a late Latin source says it’s revenge for exposing her affair).

Apollonius of Rhodes' Argonautica:

However this bit seems to be rather… genuine? Almost as if she might have truly felt bad for what she did and wanted to reconcile, sounds like someone with a deeply messy and complicated relationship with their partner, but not outright hate.

Also there is this moment in Lucian’s Dialogue of the Gods which is pretty funny:

3. Hephaestus only saw Aphrodite as property

Ok I don’t like using the “it was a different time” card but like… it really does apply here lol

Now we’ve already established that Aphrodite was never a prize for Hephaestus to begin with so what about the betrothal gifts he gave to Zeus? Obviously that means he was buying Aphrodite right?

Well, no actually this is a normal part of Ancient Greek marriage (obviously it varied between cities and time periods but it usually goes something like this), the father of the bride and the groom exchange gifts with each other to establish a bond between the two, the bride herself wasn’t the “gift” Zeus’s gift to Hephaestus was most likely his place on Olympus.

To say that Hephaestus bought Aphrodite would mean that Odysseus bought Penelope, or Hector bought Andromache, both are ludicrous claims.

4. Hephaestus is an incel and Ares is this big feminist icon

No, just… no.

Ares was never considered “the protector of women” in Ancient Greece that’s tumblr fanfiction and plenty of other ppl have made posts debunking this (including me) so I won’t repeat that here. Now about Hephaestus being an “incel” all the male Olympians have at least one story where they harm an innocent/defenseless woman, all of them, yes including Ares who persecuted Leto while she was heavily pregnant by Hera’s orders.

5. Aphrodite cheated to “regain her sexuality”

No Patrick, cheating on your disabled spouse with his brother in the bed and palace he made for you is not a girlboss move it’s being an asshole (all the gods are flawed, how thought provoking). Hell, even Zeus wouldn’t pull shit like this with Hera.

Aphrodite and Ares most likely did this hoping it would be the last place anyone would suspect an affair, since Aphrodite could’ve had sex with Ares in his own place or some meadow somewhere but that might cause ppl to be too suspicious.

6. Ares is a big dumb brute who can’t take a hint and only saw Aphrodite for her beauty

Believe it or not, just bc I criticize Aphrodite and Ares doesn’t mean I hate them lol. Now look, all the gods care deeply about looks but that’s not the only thing that Ares and Aphrodite love about each other. Here is Ares being a total simp and actually listening to her:

Iliad book 5

Thebaid book 3

7. Aphrodite felt neglected by Hephaestus bc he’s too busy at the forge

No lol, she straight up works with him at the forge, why wouldn’t she? If anything this claim makes Aphrodite even more shallow than she actually is.

8. Aphrodite and Ares didn’t care about being humiliated in the golden net and Ares straight up brags about cucking his brother

Yes I’ve heard such claims and no Ares and Aphrodite are actually capable of feeling shame lol, almost as if they were in the wrong. Also why would Ares actively antagonize the guy who makes all his stuff? Maybe that’s why Athena keeps beating his ass, bc Hephaestus purposely gives Ares shitty weapons and armor lol

Anyways umm… I think that’s it? Maybe I missed a few things bc I’m frustrated af rn

Just so y’all know, I’m not a scholar I’m just autistic and read a lot lol. I hope I didn’t miss something or get anything wrong.

Have a good day (or night).

[the-peak-tmnt]

Hey The Neon Void readers, quick update from the author's sister!

(art commission by @kaysdenofchaos)

Hi readers of The Neon Void fanfic. This is the author’s older sister. She’s been getting a lot of fan art and asks lately. She’s sent me screenshots of a few unanswered ones looking for advice on how to respond.

While all the love and support of TNV is genuinely appreciated, my sister @sugarpasteltmnt is not equipped to respond to a small handful of these asks/comments that are, quite frankly, inappropriate.

Sugarpastels is not a therapist, and she’s certainly not an internet stranger’s therapist.

She’s an adult with an extremely demanding and stressful job for a very large client. Some of you have already experienced and enjoyed her work IRL without knowing it. Her company is close to finishing another project that will bring a lot of joy to hundreds of thousands of people every year, but working on a project of that scale is extremely stressful.

She is writing this fanfic for fun. TNV is a way for her to decompress and put her creative energy towards something other than work.

What’s not fun is coming home to asks/comments from readers who are projecting their own struggles/mental health onto TNV, and even Sugarpastels herself, and demanding some sort of attention from her over it.

Let’s be real: it’s fun to watch our blorbos suffer! So much of fandom is just us putting our favorite characters in Situations because it’s fun. Simple as that. But I think another reason TNV has resonated so strongly with readers is because of the way Sugarpastels writes the internal struggles of these characters.

We are both aware that TNV deals with mental health topics. Since the early days of “modern” fandom, fanfiction has been a way for people to explore complicated, difficult and sometimes even taboo subjects. There’s no shortage of complex feelings being explored in TNV, which is why we’re all having so much fun reading it.

But that’s all it is; an exploration. Sugarpastels is not a mental health expert. I’ve read a handful of books on PTSD and mindfulness for research while writing my own fanfic, and I would never consider myself prepared to help someone else.

It’s okay if you relate to things from TNV. I know I do! Again, fanfic has always been a way to read about things rarely dealt with (or handled poorly) in published fiction/tv shows/movies. I will always argue one of the greatest things about fanfiction and other fanworks is being able to see ourselves and our own struggles through our favorite fictional characters.

But Sugarpastels is not a fictional character. She’s a real person. Most importantly (to me at least) she’s my little sister, and this big sister cannot handle watching some of her readers expect more of her than is appropriate.

So I’m asking you to please be mindful of what you ask/say to not just her, but literally everyone on the internet. Unless you’re chatting with someone regularly, they do not know you. Whether it’s friends, family, teachers, coaches, etc, there are people in your life who know you personally, and are therefore better equipped to help you than a stranger on the internet.

Sugarpastels is so full of empathy that it’s hard to not feel for you when you send things like this. But it just isn’t fair to put that kind of unnecessary pressure on someone who is, at the end of the day, just trying to have some fun writing about ninja turtles bein’ sad.

(That being said, PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED TO SEND HER ASKS AND FAN ART!!! They make her day every single time and are seriously so, so appreciated. She’s texting me about it constantly how much she loves all of TNV’s readers. This whole post is really directed at an extremely small percentage of her readers, but there have been enough I felt something needed to be said.)

[serxinns]

Yandere Older class 1a x Deadpool reader

You were a goofy sarcastic playful hero who always made jokes while brutally punching villains in the face while doing wacky and wild stuff saying the most unhinged stuff with a smile on your face and your Fans and Most pro heroes love that about you

Iida was always with you not because you were dead gorgeous and your fighting skills were amazing but because he's worried about you! You pulling these dangerous stunts makes him have a heart attack whenever he peacefully wants to see the news he sees you teasing and taunting a very dangerous and very deadly villian riling them up to the point where they just slash at anything to get you to stop your yapping, next thing you know he's grabbing his hero suit and running over there right now he always scold you for being u safe while you just either laugh it off do those cringey "I'm sowwy🥺" look iida pretends to be cringe out about but deep down he thinks your pouty face and puppy eyes are cute,

Bonus: both you and Iida's fans agree that Iida was the Dad friend and make those complications video of him being one

Bakugo wants you to depend on him and look up to him he always wants you to be by his side whenever you work with him, but you being a little shit makes his job way harder, you always making fun little jokes and uncanny comedic lines while the two of you are literally in a life and death situation while you're just singing nursery rhymes, He always yells at you to be serious and all you did was say "uh oh cranky pants need a sippy cup?" He chased you around that day and seeing that cute little cheeky face of yours made him blush he always acts like he doesn't wanna work with you but in truth, he stalks your schedule and demands his agency to work close to yours but he won't admit that even the fans kinda see that he cares for you and loved you and himself dynamic

Momo is the worried mother if you ever get hurt by a nasty villain she's beating that villain to a pulp heck even making the dude see the clouds, she always is very protective of you like a mother hen making sure you eat, sleep brush your teeth she always tell you to while you whined like a child, if you didn't bring your lunch don't worry she brought a little bento box for you!, whenever your merch comes out or before she's always the 1st one to get it. She even has a room dedicated to it (just like Izuku but we'll get to him) literally she and Izuku would have a battle about who got the rarest merch and expensive merch

Ochako is like your number 1 biggest fan she always knows your schedule as well so she can either watch you from afar and if you needed any help she'll be there to kick their asses!, she's like Pucca (if you know the childhood show congrats) she always watching you dreamily eyes fluttering but strong and dangerous if anyone messes with you, she's is always in her dream world imagining carrying you like a little princess and she's the knight although she's also ok with you holding her like that as well both ways make her blush and giggles and kicking her feet while floating up, she makes fanfiction of you x reader or her under a fake username ofc so she can write down all her fantasies (some of your classmates would follow that page secretly) she keeps an oversized merch t-shirt that you wrote an autograph

While Izuku may be all Might's number one fan who said he can't be yours as well? Like this dude knows it all has 4-6 pages of you, your quirk, your weapons, your personality, your likes and dislikes, your family, your address-, you name it! He doesn't even need to write down your schedule since he remembers it so easily dude has a great memory there's no denying it, whenever his fans scream all over him wondering what's his favorite hero everyone is so surprised when he mutters out you heck he's shy whenever he talks to you your his idol his darling his sweetie standing in front of him happily making jokes and laughing along or badass shooting and slashing any bad guys, as mentioned in mom's headcanon this boy got a WHOLE ROOM dedicated to you heck one time you jokingly put a dick shape drawing when he asked to Have a autograph he bought a photo case for that and put it on display like he's PROUD

Sero and Denki were your go-to when wanting to cause trouble and Crack some jokes heck all even flirt with each other trying to see who gets the most flustered denki craves whatever attention you give him whether trying to annoy him or not he loves it when you eyes are on him he may act like a carefree person who jokes with you but he's a possessive dude he glares at your fangirls from afar when they're squealing all over you trying to get a autograph calling you hot that made his blood boil that he had to intervene by saying there's a villain waving goodbye at the girls while their squealing got louder seeing Denki but Denki glared at them Sero is the calmer one but is Obsessive he loves everything about you whenever your close to him on the outside he as cool as a cat but inside he's dying screaming on the inside just wanting to hold you close he always ask for any sort of physical interaction like high fives, hugs, he even remembered you patting him on the back praising him for wrapping up the villains luckily someone recorded it and now he saves that in his phone watching it repeatedly over and over again also he keeps those spiderman x Deadpool comics

Jirou and Kiri are like Sero but she acts more like a soft tsundere while Kiri acts like a love-sick puppy following you around and worshipping you head to toe. She acts cool and tough around you but if you compliment her she turns red and hits you to shut up just like Izuku she's too shy to speak to you and always lets you do the talking while she doesn't pay attention just hearing your voice makes her trapped in a dazed smiling dreamily she just couldn't help it You were so adorable even under that mask she wants to cup her hands on your cheeks and give you the biggest kisses leaving you a hot flushed mess kiri on the other hand worships you like a God, he always rants to his friend teru about you and even works together with bakugo at times talking to him about you the two of them will rant on about how cool you are (mostly Him and bakugo just listens) he will invite you to spar with him and if he ever accidentally hurts you he feels so bad and apologies to you even tho you didn't even show any anger or sadness but he thinks you do but all you did was laugh saying how strong he was making the number 4 hero blush and crumble right there he always used to complimenting you on your skills body and even your muscles but you complimenting him!? It's like a kid getting a gold star for their behavior! After sparing he always buys you his favorite drink which you teased him about while he looked annoyed with your teasing he actually likes it and when you promise to stop he mentally whines wanting you to do more!

[lesbianwyllravengard]

I actually think it makes perfect sense that there is no dialogue option to have Wyll choose for himself whether to sacrifice his father or sign a pact eternal with Mizora. I'm not saying we shouldn't have the option, and I'm definitely not saying Larian gets a pass for it, because they suck and should give us more Wyll content everywhere no matter what. But. The lack of an option opens up a bountiful interpretation of Wyll's character that makes me want to munch on his earlobe.

Because here is the thing. If you were to leave the choice up to Wyll, he would choose to sacrifice himself to save his father every time. No matter what you've faced, no matter what your relationship level is with Wyll, no matter if you expressed anger for his father's mistakes or not, Wyll would always choose to sell his soul eternally to save the life of his father. This is not just because Wyll is a self-sacrificing maniac (affectionate), which we all already know. This is also because in Wyll's mind, his father's life holds the worth of the lives of every single Baldurian, because Ulder Ravengard is not just Wyll's father, he is THE Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate, and therefore both directly and indirectly responsible for the lives of the people. In Wyll's mind, his father's life is equivalent in value to that of the city itself, and so the trade for Wyll's singular soul in return for the safety of Baldur's Gate is the pact he already signed in the first place, and as he says, it is the decision he would make every time. If we were given the option to say "Do what you wish, Wyll, sign the pact or not" he would choose to sign the new pact every time without fail. Typically the point of the "it's your choice" dialogues is to offer the characters an actual choice based on things they've experienced (for example, when giving Shadowheart the choice to save or kill her parents, her choice changes depending on how much she remembers of her past). But for Wyll, the lack thereof says what we know: he would choose to save his father even at the eternal cost of his own soul.

But! Here's the most important part to me: Wyll's number one wish is to be free. Not to be adored. Not to be forgiven. Not to be powerful. But to be free of Mizora and her pact.

Wyll would not choose to free himself over saving his father, and so he needs us to choose that for him. It doesn't take a persuasion roll because it's what he desperately wants. But it does take us having to say "Wyll, break your pact" for him to make that choice. Both by sharing the responsibility of said choice with the person who is telling him to break his pact, but also by having someone he looks to for direction tell him 'I see how badly you need to be free and I want you to take this chance, I want you to do something for yourself for once'. So much of who Wyll is, is cleverly hidden behind the 'Blade of Frontiers' persona that he presents. He needs someone else to see him behind all of that, and demand that he takes what he wants above all else, knowing what his decision would be otherwise.

and again, this is not me saying the option to let him choose shouldn't be there, this is just my interpretation of what it means for Wyll that the option is not there. Do I think larian thought of this aspect of Wyll as thoroughly as I have and made this decision purposefully with this same level of consideration to Wyll's character? not at all. larian has shown they will do anything BUT show consideration for Wyll, and his content. If anything I want this post to fuel angsty fanfiction at the least, and at the most make someone else think a little more thoroughly about Wyll as a character when larian so utterly fails to do so.

[atopcat]

The writers are trying to portray Alicent’s treachery as “empowering”, Rhaenicents are insisting she should put herself first instead of her children, fans who prefer fanfiction over solid writing genuinely think this is peak feminism. Well it’s none of these, Alicent’s betrayal is linked to ableism, doesn’t matter what the writers say because that’s what we’re being shown on screen.

He was already an abusive drunk when she was trying to undermine Rhaenyra's claim, a rapist when she usurped Rhaenyra, and he was watching little children fight to the death when she stood between him and Rhaenys' dragon.

So what's changed? Why is she now suddenly deciding to throw her children to the wolves? Simple, Aegon's crippled.

That isn't the face of a mother fearing for her son's life, this isn't S1!Alicent who was ready to attack the Crown Princess to avenge her son, this is a woman who wants nothing to do with a disabled child.

I need to make it clear I'm not defending Aegon, I'm simply pointing out that the writers are suggesting Alicent can still love her son even though he's a child abusing rapist but will stop loving him once he's been wounded and left incapacitated.

Translation: One son lost an eye, the other is horrifically incinerated and my daughter is mentally unstable. I don't want these kids anymore, so I might as well run away after selling them to the enemy 👍

Rhaenyra demands "a son for a son" and she happily complies, she doesn't even ask for Daemon to be punished!

The writing is ableist, the show is telling us people who are disabled are of no value, it is "empowering" for a woman to kill her children because they're better off dead anyway.

[keekee-23]

Daddy Tag Team

A Y/N X Damian Priest Fluff Fanfiction

Summary: Damian Priest tackles his biggest challenge yet – caring for his daughter, Luna, while Y/N is away. Through diaper changes and sleepless nights, Damian discovers that being a dad is the most rewarding match of them all.

Damian Priest stood in the doorway of their home, Luna cradled in his strong arms, as Y/N zipped up her suitcase one last time. The look on her face was a mix of determination and unease. This was her first time leaving Damian alone with their baby girl for 2 days, and though she trusted him completely, there was still that lingering doubt.

"You sure you’re going to be okay?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with concern as she straightened up, her eyes flicking between Damian and Luna.

Damian chuckled, his deep voice full of reassurance. "Babe, I’ve faced steel cages, ladders, and even Gunther. I think I can handle our little princesa for a few days."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You do realize she’s teething, right? And she’s been extra fussy these past few days.”

Damian nodded, shifting Luna to his other arm. “We’ve got this, haven’t we, princesa?” he cooed at his daughter, who responded by drooling on his shirt.

Y/N tried to smile, but the worry lines on her forehead didn’t quite smooth out. "I know, I know… it’s just, you’ve never been alone with her for this long before. If you need anything, just—"

"—call you," Damian finished for her, leaning in to press a kiss on her lips. "I’ve got this, Y/N. “Go, save the world or whatever it is you do,” Damian teased. “We’ll be here when you get back. Hopefully, with the house still standing.”

Y/N laughed softly, still hesitant, but she knew she had to trust Damian. He was her rock, after all. She turned her attention to Luna, who was happily tugging at Damian’s long hair with a tight grip, her tiny face full of curiosity.

"Mama’s gonna miss you, sweet girl," Y/N cooed, leaning in to kiss Luna’s chubby cheek. Luna gurgled in response, her big eyes lighting up as she reached for her mother’s face.

Y/N reluctantly pulled away, feeling the sting of leaving her baby, but knowing that her work demanded it. As she slid into the waiting Uber, she looked back at Damian and Luna, both waving at her from the doorway. She forced herself to smile and gave them a little wave back before the car pulled away.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Luna’s face scrunched up, and her lower lip began to quiver. Damian looked down at her, already feeling a pang of worry. “Uh-oh. No need to cry, sweetheart. Daddy’s here.”

The lip quiver quickly escalated into a full-blown wail. Damian’s eyes widened. “Okay, okay, we can handle this.” He began to pace the room, gently bouncing her in his arms like he’d seen Y/N do countless times before. “You’re okay, Luna. We’re just going to have some fun today, right? Just Daddy and his little girl.”

After a few more laps around the living room, Luna finally calmed down, her big brown eyes staring up at Damian as if to say, I’m watching you, Dad. Damian took a deep breath. “Alright, first things first—diaper change.”

What should have been a simple task turned into a comedy of errors. Damian laid Luna on the changing table and began to undo her onesie, but the tiny snaps on the fabric seemed to defy him at every turn. “Come on, it’s just a snap,” he muttered, finally getting it open only for Luna to kick her legs and send a tiny sock flying across the room.

“Alright, you’re feisty today, huh?” Damian said with a laugh, retrieving the sock and placing it back on her foot. But the real challenge began when he opened the diaper. “Oh, man. How does something so small make such a big mess?”

He carefully wiped her clean, trying to keep everything under control, but Luna was in no mood to cooperate. She wriggled and squirmed, nearly kicking the wipes out of his hand. When it came time to put the fresh diaper on, Damian struggled to keep her still. The result was a slightly crooked diaper, but after a few attempts to adjust it, he decided it was good enough. “There we go, all clean. Let’s see your mom do better than that,” he joked, holding her up proudly.

The rest of the morning went by in a blur of tiny challenges. Feeding time was a mix of sweet moments and sticky chaos. Damian thought he had the bottle’s temperature just right, but when he went to test it, he ended up spilling milk down the front of his shirt. “Okay, so maybe I should’ve worn a bib too,” he chuckled, wiping it off.

Luna, for her part, seemed more interested in gnawing on the bottle’s nipple than actually drinking from it, which led to a minor battle of wills. “Come on, Luna, you’ve got to eat,” Damian coaxed, trying to gently guide the bottle into her mouth. After some persistence, she finally latched on, and Damian couldn’t help but feel a small swell of pride. “That’s my girl. We’re getting the hang of this.”

Nap time, however, was a different story. Luna had always been a light sleeper, and today was no exception. Damian tried everything—rocking her in his arms, walking around the house, even playing soft music on his phone. But each time he laid her in the crib, her eyes would pop open, and she’d start fussing again.

“Come on, princesa, you need to sleep,” Damian whispered, exhausted but determined. Eventually, after what felt like hours of rocking and shushing, Luna finally dozed off. Damian carefully placed her in the crib, holding his breath as he slowly backed out of the room. The moment he stepped on a creaky floorboard, her eyes fluttered open. Damian froze, holding his breath, but to his relief, Luna let out a tiny sigh and fell back asleep.

Damian tiptoed out of the room, collapsing onto the couch with a sigh of relief. “This is tougher than a ladder match,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. He pulled out his phone to check the time and noticed a message from Y/N: How’s everything going?

He couldn’t help but smile as he typed back: We’re surviving. No major disasters yet. He added a winking emoji for good measure before setting his phone down and closing his eyes for just a moment.

He was startled awake by the sound of the baby monitor crackling to life. Luna was awake again. “Already?” he groaned, dragging himself off the couch and heading back to her room. He found her sitting up in the crib, wide awake and looking as bright-eyed as ever.

“You know, it’s supposed to be nap time,” Damian said, scooping her up and holding her close. She responded by grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging, which made him wince but also laugh. “You’ve got a strong grip, just like your dad.”

He spent the next few hours trying to keep Luna entertained. He tried singing to her, but his deep, gravelly voice only made her stare at him in confusion. He brought out her favorite toys, only to find that she was more interested in chewing on anything within reach—including his championship belt, which he quickly had to rescue from her tiny grasp. “Not a teething toy, sweetheart,” he said, holding it up out of her reach.

He tried reading her a story, but Luna seemed more interested in the sound of his voice than the actual words. She cooed and babbled back at him as if trying to have a conversation. “Yeah? Is that right?” Damian played along, nodding seriously as if he understood every word. “You’re already smarter than your old man.”

The hours passed, and soon it was time for Luna’s evening routine. Damian managed to give her a bath without too much water ending up on the floor, though she did manage to splash him a few times. “You’re a little troublemaker, aren’t you?” he said, wrapping her in a fluffy towel and drying her off.

Getting her dressed in her pajamas was another challenge. Luna was wriggly, and every time Damian tried to get her tiny arms through the sleeves, she’d pull them back out. “This is definitely harder than a chokehold,” he muttered, finally succeeding and zipping up the onesie.

Finally, it was bedtime. Damian settled into the rocking chair with Luna, cradling her gently in his arms. He tried to hum a lullaby—one he remembered his own mother singing to him when he was little. Luna’s eyes grew heavy, and after a few minutes, she was fast asleep.

Damian looked down at her, feeling a wave of love and pride wash over him. “We did it, princesa,” he whispered, carefully placing her in the crib and brushing a kiss against her forehead. “You and me—we make a pretty good team.”

He tiptoed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t help but smile as he collapsed onto the couch once more. It had been a challenging day, but also one filled with sweet, unexpected moments that he knew he’d cherish forever.

Just as he closed his eyes, his phone buzzed. It was Y/N, checking in again. Damian grinned as he typed back: Survived the day. House still standing. Princesa asleep. I think I deserve a championship belt for this.

He hit send, leaning back on the couch and finally allowing himself to relax. Y/N’s response came quickly: I’m so proud of you. Can’t wait to be back with my two favorite people.

Damian smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest that was different from the thrill of any wrestling match or victory in the ring. It was the simple, undeniable joy of being a dad, and he knew he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

The next morning, when Y/N walked through the door, she was greeted by the sight of Damian asleep on the couch with Luna curled up on his chest, both of them snoring softly.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she set down her bags and walked over to them. She gently brushed a kiss on Damian’s forehead, then Luna's. "Looks like you did just fine," she whispered, feeling a warmth in her heart.

Everything really had turned out okay—better than okay. It was perfect.