#anyway i've written WAY more fanfiction

[read-and-write-]

Fic Writer Asks!

I was tagged by @bidoofenergy thank you for the tag!

for the sake of my sanity i am mentioning and ignoring karmaland and way older fics as I see fit

ao3 name: elawritesgays but my pseud for english fandoms is justno

fandoms: Currently? Red, White and Royal Blue and All for the Game. Now, all-time Karmaland, Voltron, Shadowhunter's Chronicles and one (1) DSMP

number of works: 15 on Ao3, if we count the Twitter fics 24

work i spent the most time on: There's an AU that took me longer than a year, started july 2020 and finished writing it somewhere early 2022 and it just didn't get fully posted, otherwhise since I mostly write one shots all of them have an average of 1 or 2 weeks of writing/editing and posting so I have no clue

work i spent the least time on: Holy, a Rubegetta one shot. I know for a fact it didn't even take me a day to write it and post it, it was my first fic after years of not writing anything at all.

longest fic: My longest fic is a Karmaland FS AU (yes the one mentioned above, yes I know I am writing another rn) and it is 44k words, but I published maybe 30k, and I didn't put it on Ao3. That being said it is Try Again, the whole thing is written I just stepped away from the fandom

shortest fic: each of the drabbles in my drabble collection (? each around exactly 100 words or a little more when I write in Spanish and English at the same time, that's as short as it can get

most hits: las formas de llamarte amor I am used to not getting many hits so this one was a surprise to see escalating to numbers I had never seen.

most kudos: also las formas de llamarte amor once again.

total word count: 34,129 (on Ao3, mind you)

favorite work of my own: This is so hard because I can't chose. I think I have a few favourites for different reasons so I am going to cheat and mention one per language at least.

A ti, is an epistolary fic about two Karmaland NPCs that I wrote for a creative writing class, it's Sapphic and I think it is the most carefully crafted one. It has a special place in my heart.

and las formas de llamarte amor my debut in the RWRB fandom if you will, the start of my Alex Claremont-Díaz speaks Spanish agenda, and the Alex calls Henry pet names in Spanish agenda.

fic you want to rewrite/expand on: With You, a dystopian AU for the Karmaland fandom, I feel like if I hadn't been on a deadline it could be so much better, maybe even as a multi chapter that could explore a lot more of the main characters

share a bit of a wip: i am running out of snippets that are not spoilers

“Alexander, if you are trying to fit a quadruple Lutz in that jump you’ll be thoroughly disappointed  when you land with your face on the ice.” Zahra’s suggestion goes unnoticed because Alex has already fallen with a resounding thwack. One wouldn’t look at the now limp body on the ice and assume that it belongs to Alexander Claremont-Díaz, a professional figure skater and representative of the Mexican national team, yet not even he is capable of avoiding meeting the ice face-to-face a few times.

Figure Skating AU WIP my beloved

and I am tagging @heybuddy-drabbles @14carrotghoul @inexplicablymine @userd0esn0texist @mudbloodpotter05 @suseagull04 @raysletters @xthelastknownsurvivorx no pressure tho!

#tag game #fanfic #fanfiction #red white and royal blue #aftg #karmaland #sadly gotta tag that #one day you will get my tragic backstory with the karmaland fandom out of me #not today tho #anyway i've written WAY more fanfiction #started in 2012 in middle school #fully in spanish and in my school notebooks #my ao3 was passing it around to my friends #other fandoms you will have to waterboard it out of me #(not really) #if you ask i'll shamefully answer

[4esthetic-dissonance]

I'm working on a fic and was like 'how in the hell do you make LINGUANG JUN the least bit redeemable?'. I mean, /Linguang jun/ who tossed a developmentally four year old Mobei Jun to a pack of humans? The kid could have died. And then I saw a translation of the extras. It describes lgj as mbj's 'young uncle', says that he 'wasn't that much older than him (mbj)'. And I just- its a hell of a lot different, a Scar type tossing his nephew to the proverbial wolves than it is for a maybe dumb, maybe petty, maybe developmentally five or six year old to shove their annoying technically-nephew-who-in-age-and-context-is-more-like-a-brother-than-lgj's-actual-brother into a situation that the text implies was more frightening than actually /dangerous/. And that- well I can work with that.

#Yeah yeah yeah I know in text he doesn't have anything going for him #And maybe the translation i found is not perfect #But its what I'm going with #And I think its more compelling than 'I hate your dad and so I hate you' #And what the fuck is svsss about if not deepening the complexity of easily-written-off characters anyway? #Svsss #Mobei Jun #Linguang jun #Scum villain #Scum villains self saving system #Honestly I even like my version better than the 'mbj senior stole lgj's wife' story #Which I think is fanon anyway #But then I have five siblings and we spent most of our childhoods trying not trying to kill each other #And yeah uhuh a nice thoughtful person would feel bad for endangering their sort of little brother #But a person from the world and not from a morality tale (especially a little kid) would more likely grow resentful #And dig in their heels that they'd done nothing wrong and why was little bro such a crybaby anyway he doesn't even deserve to be king #It just makes sense to me in a way that other versions of it that I've read don't #Don't bug me if you don't like the translation #I'm working on fanfiction not on getting canon reprinted

[savrenim]

gods nov 5th is the gift that keeps giving

#I recently have been dragged into I guess sort of the boku no hero academia fandom in the funniest of ways #which is to say I read a crossover fic went 'huh that's good' and decided to read more fic while also deciding to never watch the show #which I've only done for one fandom before and tbh it might legit be a more fun fanfiction reading experience than the normal one #it is WILD trying to reverse-engineer what is simply well-accepted fan theory and what is actual canon #I've definitely gotten a few guesses wrong but the osmosis process is really fun #(esp bc if you want to be a good detective you have to check dates; even people writing very carefully close to canon #might have written a fic before canon came out) #BUT ANYWAYS I guess I read BNHA fic now it's actually pretty good #probably bc there are multiple characters that fit my standard..... not even 'blorbo' preferences #my 'you have a backstory and/or situation that means fanfic written about you is most likely going to hit the spot' preferences #1 defs being Eraserhead bc let's be real 'I am a very tired gruff teacher working two jobs at once who does not get any sleep and has #against my own will adopted all of you why is this happening to me I'm so tired' is The Most Relatable #Hawks bc Crafted Into A Weapon From Childhood is The Weapons Feels^TM #and then Dabi bc that was the crossover that I read that was fun ok it was a silly jjk crossover of 'what if Gojo is reincarnated as Dabi' #that just transferred all my 'HELLO FAVORITE CHARACTER' emotions onto Dabi who then I go and look up and has also the sort of backstory #that makes him fave character material #SO here I am sitting here just generally happy with all of this watching my annual Nov 5th meme compilation #and LO AND BEHOLD there is strong arm 'trending during the us election: destiel/ BNHA' meme #and I'm going 'what the fuuuuuuuck my new favorite fandom aLSO TRENDED IN THE NOV 5TH CHAOS????' #so obviously I had to look up why #WELL THE WHY WAS DABI BACKSTORY REVEAL #anyways my housemate had to check on me as to why I was screaming and it turns out that indeed nov 5th #is the gift that keeps on giving #if you have read this far down in my tags I feel like you now know uncomfortably personal things about me #esp if you know enough about BNHA to understand all of that #so if you have any fic recs About My Favs I'm taking them I esp enjoy canon retellings bc it's REALLY fun to try to figure out #which bits of those are actually canon

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

#anti ai #cod fanfiction #c.ai #character ai #c.ai bot #c.ai chats #fanfiction #fanfiction writing #writing #writing fanfiction #on writing #fuck ai #ai is theft #call of duty #cod #long post #I'm not putting any of this under a readmore #Youtube

[grison-in-space]

You know, I've been reading things written by people on the internet for my whole life, or at least my whole life after I was about ten. I'm thirty three now. That means there are people whose words I read on the internet twenty years ago who are presumably still around and occupying the internet—sometimes using names I can recognize from back then, too. (hat tip to my fellow "changing usernames is unnatural actually" brethren; I've only changed one myself twice in the whole world since I was about fourteen or fifteen.)

Sometimes I think about a person I see around occasionally on the internet. That person wrote a story about a character in a rather silly fandom we shared, and I read it as a child just beginning to conceptualize being someone whose opinions might matter. And I remember reading that story at some point, because at that age I had a hyperfixation on that character in that fandom at that time and I read pretty much everything in the genre. I never really got to talk to anyone but the inside of my head about it. My friends didn't read fanfiction, and my parents viewed my reading fanfiction as some kind of depraved, shameful secret. Anyway, I read that story and I remember having some kind of deep realization about how adult humans work while I was reading it.

I learned something about the world from that story. (It was one of those insights that are now so molten alongside my core that it's difficult for me to disentangle them from myself, like "people outside you have their own perspective on your behaviors, but that doesn't mean they have to be right.") And I remember that they know it, because they taught it to me, without meaning to. One of the anonymous impacts on readers that writers never see unless they're extraordinarily lucky.

And I smile, because it's lovely to see them again, and they showed me a skill I still use today. We don't have a relationship of any kind—it would be very difficult to recognize me, I think—but they did me a favor a long time ago. And I remember. Now I get to be reminded that this person still exists, and is still a pretty cool human to be around today, at least for the specific circumstance of internet neighbor. Well, and our modern level of concern about once beloved elders from the distant past going terrifyingly cult-addled and bigoted on short notice.

That has not happened in the slightest. They're just still a pretty nice fandom person who is a bit older than me, who is recognizably the same person they have always been, but more intensely and thoughtfully—like a distilled brandy, not a sour vinegar left out on a countertop too long.

Weirdly, that's a thing I find comforting: this tiny, one way, invisible affection. Every so often I feel this intense affection for a person I've never spoken to or about, because I see them and I love them intensely for a moment and then we both go about our days.

Think about how many interactions you have with people as you go about your day. Wouldn't it be nice to imagine that other people feel like that about you?

I think I'm going to imagine that there's one person that read something I said and thinks that about me. I don't need to ever actually know if it's true: I can just imagine someone who happened to be at a formative moment when they learned something against the background of my words. We'll never know each other as our screennames are lost along the years and we move in and out of touch with parts of ourselves, but we still have that little fond impact on one another, those fingerprints in one another's clay.

It's a nicer world to imagine than the one where no one is paying attention to me, or the only people paying attention to me are mean. And there's really no way to ever know for sure, so why not inhabit the pleasant end of the imaginatory pool if you can?

[animasola86]

NSFW Sebastian Sallow Headcanons

(based on the smut I've written about him, seen from a f!reader perspective)

Read at your own risk!

Sebastian reads a lot, all the things, from anatomy books to any kind of educational or erotic writings he can lay his eyes/fingers on

-> therefore he probably knows more about your body than you do -> therefore he knows exactly what to do and where to rub/lick/suck/bite/poke to get those noises out of you -> therefore he knows the importance of foreplay and will not think of his pleasure before giving you yours (several times even)

As selfless and supporting as he can be, once it's his turn he will do anything to get him to the same place he's taken you several times

-> he can be rough and demanding, but also sweet and consoling, it's a wild mixture of both that'll make your head spin

He doesn't care which position he takes you in, though he probably prefers those where he can be closest to (aka deepest in) you, he might fold his body over yours or smother you with his weight, pushing you into the bed/surface you're on, as much skin contact as possible while he drives himself into you ㅤ

He has amazing stamina and endurance (we will ignore the unfit fifth-year that had trouble breathing walking up a set of stairs, he'll certainly grow up to be fitter, quickly!) and he usually always waits for you to come first, so he can find his release as well ㅤ

He likes to test out/experiment with things he might have read in a book or magazine and he will never be too shy to ask you (knowing you'll probably do anything for him anyway) – he just wants to learn and educate himself and find more ways to pleasure you and himself ㅤ

Sebastian can't just lay back and let you do all the work, he'll always do his part and help where he can (that bj might just turn into a face fuck, who knows), you might have to tie him to a chair if you want him to focus on his own pleasure as he is always too focused on you and yours ㅤ

He does prefer to come inside you (might even have a slight breeding kink), but he'll comply if you don't want that, he'll always listen to your doubts and objections (and then try to manipulate you into doing it anyway)

[ FANFICTION MASTERLIST ] [ KINKTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST ]

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy

[musette22]

I know this has been said so many times in so many different ways, and I have nothing new to add, really. But I am going to say it anyway, because I am just so ridiculously grateful for fanfiction writers. There are innumerable fanfics out there - incredible, mind-blowing stories that are all shared with us for free. Written out of a pure, profound love for existing stories and characters, a need to know them better, explore them, add to them, do something with them the source material never dared. To make ourselves and others feel better, sometimes worse, but mostly just to make us feel.

And don't get me started on the quality of so much of the fanfiction out there. I know talent is an debatable term, but for want of a better one: the sheer talent and dedication of so many of these authors, most of whom have actual, real life jobs and families and other responsibilities, is just astounding. So many ideas, so many beautiful words, so much creativity. As a fanfiction writer myself, I know that it can sometimes be challenging to be creative, to find time and energy to write, when life is just. So much. And yet the love I have for these characters just leaves me desperately wanting to make time and energy to tell the stories I want to tell. Writing fanfiction is a hobby, yes, but for many people, it's also more than a hobby. It's a passion, a deeply rooted desire, even a community.

As a reader, too, I know how incredibly valuable and important these stories can be. I've spent the past few days doing nothing but devouring fic because I've been feeling too crummy to do anything else, and it's been an absolute blessing. Every fic I read was more amazing than the last. They all made me cry, laugh, think, yearn, and just feel so much better. So, I know this has been said many times before, but I just had to tell you again how much I love you, fanfiction writers. Love you with my whole entire, sappy, zero-chill heart.

Thank you for everything you do, all the hours, the blood, sweat and tears, the love you put into your stories, and thank you for sharing them. For just handing them over and releasing them into our custody once they're done, for all of us to read and enjoy, expecting nothing in return but some kudos and comments. That's incredible, ok? You're all incredible, whether your stories are 'popular' or not. So many people would be utterly bereft without you and your efforts, and I just needed to tell you again how appreciated you are ♥️

#I am a little emotional about this #as you perhaps can tell lmao #it's just #FANFICTION #it's the best!!!!!!!!!! #I'd be lost without it #I'm particularly talking about the stucky fandom #(unsurprisingly) #but it really applies to all fandoms #and all creative writing #all creative hobbies #but I'm specifically talking about fanfiction here #it's just wild and amazing #<3333

[ivyblossom]

That thing where I feel like I'm going to have to write fanfiction again

This is a weird one. I just want to say it somewhere, so that I've said it somewhere, but I realize there's there's one person who actually cares about this and she already knows, so. This is just for me, I guess.

Fifteen years ago, I wrote most of a Narnia fic. It pairs of Edmund Pevensie and Bacchus, aka Dionysus, the ancient Greek god of grapes, wine and uninhibited ecstasy. Also theatre. I know, that's a bit weird. Is Bacchus even in the Narnia stories? (Yes, he is. He even has lines!) Why on earth am I pairing him up with Edmund, who is 10 when we first meet him?

It's all the weird memory tricks, I'm a sucker for those. The Pevensies forget about England because they stay so long in Narnia and stop thinking about England, and they can (and do) forget about Narnia if they stay in England too long and don't think about Narnia enough (poor Susan), and I find that really interesting. It offers up so many nooks and crannies to stick story in. They grow up and become adults in Narnia, but are required to forget most of it in order to return to build children in England.

And come on: is Bacchus not also very obviously the god of Narnian orgies? I mean, yes. Clearly. He's also Aslan's default caterer and water-into-wine head tech. If you need buildings destroyed and bullies turned into trees and/or pigs, Bacchus is your guy. He's not big on wearing clothes, and according to Edmund, he's incredibly beautiful and extremely dangerous. Edmund is only 10 when we first meet him, sure, but he grows up, reverse ages, and then starts to grow up again. Bacchus throws them a G-rated orgy in Prince Caspian. There's love there.

Hasn't Edmund suffered enough? Yes, he got addicted to the Turkish Delight that time, but he'd been struggling and was being bullied, he was carrying a lot of self-hatred and shame, give a kid a break. He did get himself heroically killed putting it right, only to be healed physically and psychologically by Santa Claus's magic healing cordial, as one does. Doesn't Edmund deserve a cute immortal boyfriend with quirky friends and a serious green thumb who grows his own grapes, makes his own wine, can manipulate and control the desires of everyone around him like conducting an orchestra, and who will love him until the end of time? There aren't many humans in Narnia, why not hook up with the god of uninhibited ecstasy? I mean, he's right there.

Anyway. It was fifteen years ago.

I wrote 3/4ths of it, I had one part left to go to finish it, I had an idea about what how it would end, but for some reason I never wrote the ending. I don't remember why. So it's been sitting there unfinished since 2009.

And in the last few weeks I started thinking about it again. I had an idea about that ending. I couldn't remember if this idea I was toying with was my original concluding idea or not, it's been that long, but I liked the idea, and I thought, you know, I should write that idea in as the last part and finally finish that thing.

And then I read what I'd written. And a) 15 years is a long time and I have so many criticisms, I was clearly in love with the sound of my own voice (uh...nothing's changed there I guess?), b) I wrote the thing in such a way to exclude my new idea, so apparently that wasn't my original plan, but c) yeah, I should have written this thing properly the first time around. And now I have 104 more ideas and I love them all, so.

I think I have to rewrite it. Or, I suppose, just write another one and replace it? I dunno. Just playing it out now.

I think I'm going to write it. Is this an active fandom? I don't think so. I don't care. This love story needs to be told. Edmund deserves this.

#fanfiction #narnia #Edmund/Bacchus #it's never too late right?

[katy-l-wood]

I don't really know how to put my own feelings on generative AI at this point, other than that I'm just...kind of done caring? It's here. This has happened. Being constantly furious over it isn't going to do anything other than waste energy.

I'll continue to opt out of having my stuff scraped when I can, I'll call representatives, I'll get involved in more court cases if I'm asked, I'll avoid sharing AI generated work. But I am under no illusion that my stuff isn't getting/hasn't been stolen and shoved into these machines. I'm also not really under any illusion that I can, on an individual level, do anything about it.

I've been sharing my art and writing on the internet for nearly 20 years, across multiple sites and multiple usernames. There's no way at all I could ever strip all my stuff off the internet, Glaze and Shade it, and then put it all back. And my current primary styles don't work well with Glaze and Nightshade anyway. And that's just my art. My writing is also spread out over multiple usernames and sites. I've written some very popular fanfiction that I'm sure has been shared and scraped. It just is what it is for me at this point.

Generative AI does suck. It sucks ass. It sucks that every single website is cutting us off at the knees and selling our work out from under us to these AI companies. But on an individual level I'm just. Meh. It's done. It's done, and I can't do anything about it on that individual level, even if I hate that it happened.

I'm just gonna keep on telling my stories, and throwing annoyed letters at the people making these decisions, but beyond that. Meh.

[ineffabildaddy]

i know this may be obvious to a lot of people, but i thought it was worth saying anyway: i love the good omens fandom because it encourages contribution more than any other popular fandom i've been in.

i'm incapable of being a casual fan of anything. it's just not in my nature. i've been in fandom spaces just over a decade - fandoms related to musicians, books, films and tv shows - and yet i've never been in a fandom that captures, creates, analyses, jokes, and just talks more than this one.

in most of the fandoms i've been in, there's a lot of passive consumption of fan content, which is obviously great and we all do it, but in the good omens fandom, that doesn't seem to make up the majority of our behaviour. in fact, when i got back on tumblr for the first time in 7 years after watching season 2, i had a look around at what the fandom was doing for a day or two and my first thought was: oh god, what if i've got nothing to say? what if i've got nothing to add that hasn't already been added? i immediately felt that i wouldn't truly be part of things if i didn't get stuck in.

if i'm fixated on something or particularly enjoying it at one time, i might wake up in the morning or pick up my phone/laptop thinking, i want to see more, hear more, learn more about this thing. that's still the case with good omens, but with the addition of, how can i contribute today? how can i bring something to the fandom, how can i connect with it, how can i consistently encourage and support the people in it? and that's all because of how artistic, analytical, poetic, humorous but above all enthusiastic all of you are.

the truth is, i'm not at all a confident person. i've got a film degree, i've done stand-up comedy and i've written comedy sketches, i was a popular fanfiction writer for years (hi supernatural fans), and i've shared poetry, too. so, i have got experience in things that could make my contributions to fandom spaces worthwhile (not that you need any particular achievements under your belt). yet usually, the fact that people are doing things that i'm doing infinitely better than me puts me off the idea of doing them at all. so, oftentimes i don't do them, or if i do i put them down immediately and keep them private.

i'm still very much experiencing that feeling since becoming active in the good omens fandom, precisely because there's so much talent and dedication here, but i'm trying to ignore it because it feels like everyone who wants to say something is genuinely valued - especially since people who think differently about aspects of the book and show aren't actually fighting with each other or obsessed with proving they're right, which is quite rare in my experiences of fandoms.

it's been really really refreshing to become an active part of this fandom and i do hope it remains that way as more time elapses since season 2 was released. i have a feeling it will because we've all chosen one of the most wonderful stories of our time to engage with, and the fans' love for it was and is taken more seriously by terry, neil, david and michael than we ever could've hoped for.<3

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffabildaddy

[the-odd-devil]

Gods and Good Boys

Homelander x f!reader

Summary : You know something is wrong, a simple image management employee has nothing to do in this fancy lounge at the highest of Vought tower. When Homelander enters the room with a satisfied smile, you know you’re fucked. The rumors you've heard about him and his constant presence at your office do nothing to help get him out of your head but will certainly help you get out of this situation, or maybe make it worse.

Word Count : 4 042

Warnings : !!! minors DNI !!!, non-con/dub-con, sexual harassment, canon-typical violence, blood, death, smut, mommy kink, degrading, sub!Homelander, dom!reader (let me know if I forgot any)

Author's Note : So first fic eh? More specifically, it’s the first time I've written fanfiction in English, but I loved it so much! Much more than my native language for some reason? Anyway I had the best time ever writing Homelander, he is so fun to write (even more when he’s a sub oops), hope you will have fun reading it too!

 But before the Big Boy™ I want to give a big big BIG thank you to @mietkoz and @finniestoncrane for proofreading the fic and being sweethearts, they really hyped me up and makes me want to write more! <3 Another big big BIG thank you to @spicedchaiandromeda and @just-call-me-angel who inspired me a lot to write and were so nice to me <3 

Hope you’ll like it!

This whole thing was weird as fuck. Two people, who you immediately guessed that they were a lot more important than you, had brought you and this other Vought employee, in this fancy lounge decorated with expensive stuff. The price of the furniture did nothing to make the room more appealing, it felt empty and cold. They left you and the other girl in the middle of it. While looking at each other, you remembered seeing her at some office inside the tower, her name being Grace and being in a similar post as you at Vought, she was in a high level of stress, picking her nails and looking generally concerned about why you were here. Honestly, you were concerned too, random office workers at Vought have nothing to do at the highest of the tower, but your mind was empty, not knowing what to expect.  

You hear clicking heels coming to the door from the hallway and soon Ashley is standing right in front of both of you, a fake and uptight smile on her lips and an all too much joyful tone. 

“So, I suppose you know why you’re here!”

You and the other girl look at each other with a questioning expression before looking back at Ashley.

“You’re gonna have an interview with Homelander!” she said while doing a little forced cheering movement.

Ah yes, Homelander. You’ve seen him more than once in the office area explaining to employees what they have to do and sticking his nose in other people’s business. With his fake smile and false sympathy. You know and everyone knows that he’s close to a no return point at every second, ready to turn the room into ashes. What you really think about the fucker is another story tho. You first didn’t think much about him, in your department, the supes are more of a product than anything, you don’t really see them as a person anymore, even more when you’re the one who has to cover their “mistakes”, if killing innocents can be considered as a mistake. You prefer not to think about him in particular, even if you know only the surface level about what he’d done, aka, what you have to deal with and then dilute for the press ; seeing him in person, close to you, looking at you, is totally different. He did nothing that would be considered “abnormal”, at least, for him, in the office. He tries to play it cool, be the nice guy, but his sudden voice bursts betray him. 

What really scares you is what he makes you feel. Things that you prefer ignoring. He undressed you with his eyes or made prolonged eye contact more than once and you couldn’t refrain from the heat that you felt. The asshole had a really pretty face and a shark smile, the way his expressions distort oscillating between rage, pure distress and complete emptiness made you imagine how you could completely break him with just a few sentences and how he could annihilate you in a blink of an eye. The thoughts of you possibly dominating this god-like figure have kept you awake more than once. 

“Did we do something wrong?” Grace says timidly, you could hear how anxious she was.

“Oh no no no! He just wants a new “assistant” and asked me if he could see you in private.” you could hear the fake enthusiasm and the quotation marks in Ashley’s tone. 

The word “assistant”, isn’t a good omen for where this situation is going, you know how perverted Homelander, and the vast majority of the supes are, and you’re thinking that being fired isn’t that horrible after all.

“Anyway! Try to make a good impression!” Ashley says before making her way to the door.

“Wait? You’re gonna let us here??” your voice makes you suddenly aware how much you were panicking.

“Yes? I’m not the one choosing.” she says, a frown across her face before finally leaving.

And there you are, Grace and you standing in the middle of this Vought’s lounge, clearly design for la crème de la crème of those who enters the tower, not knowing what the fuck is gonna happen when Homelander is going to join you. 

He probably was waiting for Ashley to inform him that you were here because he arrived shortly after she left, you even suspect him of waiting next to the room and most certainly watching and listening since you were here. He enters the room and closes the door, placing the key on one of the tables next to the couch before putting his hands behind his back, a pleased smile on his face and places himself in front of both of you, making direct eye contact with Grace and then with you. Grace instantly looked away but you couldn’t stop looking in his icy blue eyes. It feels like the eye contact is during an eternity, none of you looking away. He breaks the contact when he is starting to speak after clapping once in his hands, making Grace and you jump.

“So, what did Ashley tell you?”

You were growing more and more confuse with this whole situation, what the fuck does he want? 

“Come on girls! Speak!” he says, elevating his voice and clapping his hands. There it is, his constant struggle at keeping his calm. Grace was mortified and you answer Homelander, hesitation visible in your face and voice :

“She told us about an assistant thing…”

“Oh yeah… You know, days are a little bit boring sometimes…”

You look at him while he starts pacing in the room, getting closer to you and Grace. When he’s close enough, he starts petting Grace's hair like a dog and turns his head to look at your side. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek, too afraid to turn your head and look at him in the eyes when he is this close to you. He withdraws his hand from Grace’s hair to start stroking your cheek instead.

“I just can’t decide which one of you I’m going to fuck on a daily basis.”

You can see his fucking smile in your peripheral vision, well aware of the power his holding on the situation. Your breath is stuck in your throat, your vision is starting to blur, your blood runs cold, you feel like your soul just left your body and you’re not able to move anymore. You're out of your paralyzed state when you see and hear Grace running to the door and starting pulling on it in panic, unable to unlock it. You watch the action with eyes wide open, panicking more and more but unable to move or react, knowing too well that this situation is about to get worse. You know Homelander too much to know that showing him signs of resilience is a very very bad idea. He grabs your chin so hard that it hurts you, turning your head in order that you face him again. His eyes are closed and he lightly shakes his head, he seems disappointed as if a little kid just did something wrong and he’s about to reprimand them. Grace is still trying to open the door in panic and starts to cry some “please!”, “let me go!”, “please”, Homelander just turns his head looking at her with some disappointment, still holding you before melting her head with his laser eyes. 

Her body falls to the ground, headless. You contain the screams who are holding in your throat, so much that your body begins to contract. Your eyes are burning, holding tears in a terrorized expression. Homelander turns his face, having a sweet forced smile, looking at you like he was proud of you being an obedient girl who listens to him. You feel sick. He hums, approaching his face even more, you could feel the vibration in his throat. 

“I guess it means that you’re the one I choose.

SO!”

The fact that his expression is changing once more, so rapidly into something completely different, has always scares you, today, more than anything. You don’t know what to expect next. His now happy and calm expression and the fact he starts pacing again in the room only calms you slightly, leaving you some time to think of what to do next. 

He ends up facing you, a few feet away, his smile still on his face. It is the kind of smile you know is pacific, that nothing will happen to you if you do right. It is comforting in some way. Some agonizing seconds pass, before he finally says something. 

“What are you waiting for? Show me.” 

You didn’t expect that. Not the abrupt demand but the tone of his voice. Very deep and low, vibrating through your core. All the deep, filthy feelings you have for him are coming back to the surface. His fucking gaze, looking right through you with lust and envy, his satisfied smile who knows he can have everything he wants. You’ve noticed every time he passes by your office. You were sure you were imagining things, you are now certain that everything he did was on purpose. This wasn’t a wet dream anymore. Homelander was here, waiting for you to make the first move, if you didn’t, you'd end up like Grace whose blood was spreading across the fancy carpet of the lounge. 

You compose yourself, sniffing the results of the tears in your eyes, trying to make the feeling you had when you saw him at your office fully resurface.  

He often went into the offices of your department, putting his nose in everything. You thrived on the view every time. Even knowing everything he’s done, you couldn’t stop looking at him. Not only do you find him beautiful, but when he comes to your floor he always has his worried puppy face. He seems so sad and anxious wanting to know if the public still loves him, seeing him in this state makes you hot all over. 

One day, he ends up noticing your glances, you can only also guess that your expression said a lot more than you wished, and till that day he began visiting your desk every time he came down here. 

It was mostly light teasing, and you understand now, flirting. You thought he didn’t mean much until today. It seems that he finds making people uncomfortable funny. You would have never guessed it meant anything. You were always flustered nonetheless. 

Most of the time, he exaggeratedly bent next to you to watch your computer screen, his mouth ending up to be impossibly close to your ear, where he whispered saying some uninteresting shit about what’s on the screen, most of the time, he didn’t even know what he saw meant, and you didn't really listened to him anyway, his low and deep voice reverberating down to your core. You remember your mind spiraling and only being able to concentrate on the wetness in your panties. Sometimes in the blur of his sayings, you could recall him calling you pretty, or lightly degrading you, it only made you spiral even more. 

Being in the break room instead of your desk didn't stop him from harassing you, or whispering in your ear. He looked at you like a prey, you were his prey everytime he went to the office. You should have called sexual harassment. You didn’t. You know it wouldn’t change anything, you thought he was like that with everyone. Even one of your colleagues suggested it. She knew damn well that there is absolutely no point of doing that.

You usually just didn't respond to him, just getting more and more red and wet, sometimes swallowing and letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Except the last time he came to see you in the break room. 

It started like usual, the usual being him spotting you in the break room and immediately entering and sticking to you, pressing his torso against your back and his lips against your ear. You could see and feel his hand every time, hesitating to go on your hips. He began whispering in your ear, a lot nicer than all the other times, things like “you’re so pretty today”, “let me buy you another coffee”, “we can go to a calmer place if you want”... You were already red and wet from the few sentences and his proximity. When he bent over to take a hot chocolate your breath stopped. You could feel him already getting hard on your ass. 

He took his drink and went to sit on the break room table. You couldn’t help but watch him across the room. He was delighted seeing your red face and your look filled with lust and shame. 

He slapped on his thigh two times, calling you like a child : 

“Come sit with me.”

 You took the closest seat to him, hypnotized, incapable of thinking or saying anything. Your cup of coffee was trembling in your hand. Attentively, you watched him take a mouthful of his chocolate milk. He took so much milk so rapidly that some was left on the corner of his mouth. 

The satisfied look on his face and his unusually soft smile made you lose your mind. You didn’t even had time to realize what you were doing, that your hand was already cupping his cheek and your thumb was gently whipping off the cream on his face. 

His surprised look was rapidly replaced by a look of pure bliss, his head leaning on your hand, his eyes closing and his mouth slightly opening while he exhaled a long breath. You couldn’t recall if you had an orgasm right then, seeing him so submissive in the palm on your hand ; an electric shock went through your body, you feel like you blacked out and next thing you know you were splashing cold water on your face in the closest bathroom, hyperventilating. You could see your mascara running on your cheeks, asking yourself how you were gonna explain your current state to your colleagues. 

You don’t remember the rest of this day, but you remember him, staying in the break room, his hand caressing where yours was, watching you leave with puppy eyes, his puppy eyes that were the only thing you could think of the following days. You remember thinking of the rumor. The rumor that made you so horny you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom. The one about Homelander you’ve heard the first month you’ve been working in Vought : about  how particular his relationship with Madelyn Stillwell, the ex-Senior Vice President of Hero Management, was. You remember finishing on your toy that night, this idea and what happened leaving your mind running free. 

You know what to do, you know what he wants. There is no other choice, you’ll give it to him while refusing to admit to yourself that you want it too. 

He is in front of you, a small smirk on his lips, challenging you. You feel like a deer catched in headlights feeling so small in front of him standing straight up and looking down on you. You take a few seconds composing yourself, taking a deep breath. You know exactly what he wants and you were going to give it to him. His expression changes as he sees you fake confidence, questioning but still challenging; you look at him through your lashes, a devious smile on your lips. You took a few steps until you were facing him, close enough to hear his breathing speeding a bit. 

You bring slowly your hand to his cheek, locking your eyes on his face, trying your best to look both sweet and flirty. Your heart skips a beat, your breath shaking slightly. You feel like your body is on autopilot while there is a storm in your mind.  His eyes are following the action, eager for some contact. Once your hand is cupping his cheek, you start to stroke lightly with your thumb. Homelander directly melts into your touch, leaning into your hand ,closing his eyes and slightly opening his mouth, bliss and release across his face. He let out a deep breath while relaxing into your hold, he was looking like an asleep kitten, almost purring in your hand. You try to keep your composure, feeling your stomach dropping at the sight of this god-like being turning into putty to your touch, making you feel so powerful. Your confidence level being higher seeing his soft expression, you decided to lean more into the situation. You approach him till your mouth is the closest possible to his ear.

“You really need someone to take care of you mh?”

The shaky whimper he let out makes you tremble. Even knowing the rumors, and witnessing a glimpse of it before, being in first line, and being the one who made him whimper makes you weak and you could already feel yourself getting wet. You continue stroking his cheek, drinking in his reactions.  You’ve always liked how expressive he is, the tiny movement of his face while he is losing himself in pleasure sends you into a loop as you whisper again in his ear : 

“You look so lonely… Poor boy… Don’t worry, mommy’s gonna take care of you.”

You put your other hand in his blond hair, feeling them on your fingers and appreciating how soft they are. You’re totally losing yourself now, hypnotized by his trembling, almost whining voice : 

“Yes! Yes please…”

Any sense of logic leaves your mind as you hear his voice, lust now controlling you. You move your hand to put his chin in your palm and start tracing his lips with your thumb, his mouth opening in a silent moan. You can’t help putting your finger in his mouth. He immediately closes it and starts sucking on your thumb. You don’t control the little moan escaping your mouth, making him moan too, unable to restrain. You start to unconsciously rube your thighs, eager for some contact and relief. Your eyes leave his face and meet his crotch, his dick hard. Your pussy throbbing at the sight and size. Homelander is still lost in the moment, punctuating his sucking with little moans who make you weak.

You can’t resist touching his dick anymore and took your hand out of his face, leaving his mouth empty making him whine at the loss. 

“You’re so eager… Mh? Pretty boy…”

You finish your sentence with your hand ghosting over him, feeling his length, making him groan at both your praise and the feather-like touch before thrusting his hips to fully meet you.  You tut and shake your head :

“You’re really disappointing mommy, baby…” 

Punctuating your sentence with a sad pout. You see his face contracting and looking up, while he moves back his body, as he concentrates to obey you. 

“That’s my good boy.”

His focused face stretches into a proud smile, still looking up, scared that looking at you will make him lose control. 

You smile too, satisfied and shocked by how well you can make him obey you. You apply more pressure, stroking him as you see his expressions tighten. He is trying so hard to keep composure, you don’t know if you will be able to contain yourself too, his almost pained face making you feel closer and closer even if he still hasn't touched you, hands in fist at his sides, waiting for an order to start touching you . 

You suddenly cut off all contact, Homelander making the saddest and most pathetic whine at the loss, lowering his head to look in your eyes, wanting to know what he did wrong.  

“What’s wrong baby?”

Another whine escapes his mouth, urging you to touch him again. You lock eyes, look and voice assertive : 

“Get on that couch.”

He doesn’t think twice and sits on the couch next to you, his eyes are glossy, filled with lust as he looks at you like a puppy waiting for approbation after doing a trick.

“Come on, lay down.” 

He does as you say, you can hear his heavy breath as he waits for more. You approach him like a predator, and sit on his lap, he whimpers at the contact of your pussy, feeling both of your wetness on his costume. You start moving your hips languidly, making him groan. You want more friction, to start moving quicker, you’ve been waiting for some form of release for so long ; but you’re determined to watch him completely lose himself beneath you.  

You continue your agonizing movements (for both of you), the room starting to echo both of your moans. You’re very glad that this lounge has one-way windows, but you doubt the fine glass will be enough to muffle both of your screams. You don’t really care at this point though, the gossip that may happen in the tower being insignificant over the power and the pleasure you are feeling in this instant. Plus, everybody will know anyway considering Homelander reputation, and, oh yeah, the dead body still emptying itself from his blood next to you, but who you totally forgot, your mind clearly elsewhere. 

Your head tossed backward, eyes closed, the sweet moans of Homelander starting to sound more and more demanding, the friction of the his dick on your clothed and wet mount making you lose control, you almost jump when you feel his hands grabbing your waist using his superhuman force to make you move quicker. 

“Did I allow you to touch me?”

Your strict voice makes him stop all movement. He closes his mouth and rapidly shakes his head, hands still on your waist. You furrow your brows harder making him quickly withdraw his hand. You pick back up your previous pace, making him open his mouth again.

“I thought you were mommy’s good boy… Seems like you’re just a dumb slut…”

The whine he lets out is louder than any of the preceding ones, making a deep, sadistic smile grow on your lips and your hips moving faster. You can feel your climax being closer and closer, finally getting some relief. 

“You can touch mommy now…” 

You say at the same time a moan escapes your lips. He places both of his hands on the top of your hips, following your movement as he catches the rhythm with his. 

“You’re such a pretty slut, doing what mommy says.”

His moans are louder at every degradation and praise. 

Your climax coming closer and closer as you can feel his, you start muttering incoherent degrading praises making him moan and buckle his hips at each one of them. Your movements begin to be uncoordinated as you can feel your orgasm arriving with full force, as Homelander’s are becoming more and more brutal. In a final thrust, you feel his dick twitch and release in his costume as you continue riding him pursuing your own high, making him whine at the over stimulation. Your orgasm follows quickly after, a wave of pleasure you’ve never felt before spreading all over your body, making your eyes rolling and watering and your body uncontrollably shivering. 

You fall down to his chest, both of you catching your breath. Once your heart is catching an almost normal beating, you lift your head and give him a soft and chaste kiss on his cheek.

“You did great.”

Before leaving him completely spent on the couch, still catching his breath, a wet spot on his crotch. You smile to yourself seeing him in this disheveled state, making a mental image for future nights by yourself.You take the key on the small table and pull down your skirt while walking to the door, hoping that it will be long enough to cover how wet the top of your legs are. You give one more look at the decapitated body of Grace, trying not to step on the blood, before opening the door and leaving the lounge and going to the bathroom, and then leave the tower, your mind still not recording what happened nor trying to figure out what all of that means for the future.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #homelander smut #the boys #anthony starr #homelander x f!reader #homelander x fem!reader

[ganondoodle]

I was at first in love with totk, and I still think mechanical wise, its quite impressive

And when I collected all the tears and saw the "story" I genuinely got upset in a good way (at first), because man! Did they really got the balls to go that far? Is there nothing I can do for her? Now I MUST do all the temples, see how it plays out and --oh, I've got this cutscene already. Why are all the people so dumb about Zelda, I KNOW where she is, Link say something-- Link??

After finishing all the temples and almost falling asleep, I stopped playing the game, looked up the last boss and remaining cutscenes and went "Thats it?"

Watching other people (including you) being critically about so many things, both character and mechanical wise, I've almost startled myself with a realization what the gnawing feeling I constantly had, actually was.

Totk feels like a fanfic.

And don't get me wrong, I love fanfiction, I think its great and important, I adore fanfic writers, I love finding gems, I love reading self indulgent stories, see new spins and interpretation of characters. I love the casual, the passion, the creativity!

But totk gives me the same feeling everytime I am reminded that Fifty Shades is a Twillight fanfic.

The world is there. The faces I know and grew to love are there. But everything is ever so slightly different, uncannily so. Just how some characters talk, how they act, how they were placed in the story. The Zonai appearing out of nowhere, but no, they always had been there you see, they were these super magical advanced people but they all died, the king is so tragic. And you see, the king is super cool and powerful and-- oh I dont get to interact with him outside of the tutorial. Did they try to do another King Rhoam-- but wait, that only worked because we didn't knew he was a ghost-- totk wait stop why do you take him out of the story, why couldn't he be a companion, he IS ABLE TO TALK THROUGH THE ARM LET THE OLD GOAT COMMENT ON STUFF?? If you bring up all this ancient stuff and you still got a ghost lingering, let him talk?? (I never ended up getting Mineru but I smell wasted potential as well)

Im not even mad, I am disappointed. It feels like the devs saw what all the lore hunters got attached to and talked about and then just... took the "cool". All the Zonai stuff could've easily been Sheikah tech, but got just reskinned to look more exciting instead of being its own thing.

Like... at this point I prefer what fans are doing over what Totk gave us. The characterization of Rauru (and everything Zonai), projects like you do of what totk couldve been, the little nuggets of actual highlights and details of love fans find in the game. I found much more enjoyment in these concepts than I got from a 70bucks game. And thats depressing.

I love fanfiction. I dont love it when my corporate 70 dollar, six year development, console exclusive game feels like a story that passionate fan couldve written miles better in a week (and I've already seen much cooler and interesting rewrites and ideas).

Zelda has been a huge part of my childhood and its depressing seeing it treated like that. It always was about the story, the epic, its The Legend of Zelda for crying out loud. To be courageous to enter a dungeon, to be wise and solve all the riddles. To become powerful over the journey you embarked on. Zelda to me is the campfire story you tell to others and go into the woods or the beach and imagine what monsters you would slay. Zelda is not the sandcastle you build in the sandbox and then add dinosaurs and star wars ships because you didn't had any other toys, and just stumble into and over some story to entertain yourself until lunch is ready.

I'd have an oracle of seasons over another totk any day at this point. They should've just make the mechanics of totk its own thing, but I guess they were scared it wouldn't sell if it doesn't have a Mario or Zelda skin straped over it.

Anyways, sorry for the mini rant - love your art, love your thoughts and insights, and I am looking forward to see more of it - Zelda related or not (your original characters look amazing, I adore your style sm)

Hope you have a great rest of the day!

*nods along through this entire rant*

idk how many of my rants you have read but yeah ... yeah ... and the further you think about it the further it all falls apart, the wasted potential of it all and the goddamn audacity of them to do those interviews in which they make it EVEN WORSE is just

i know the expectation for a direct sequel to botw was huge and understandbly so but i really REALLY think it would not have been that hard to make it a good follow up even taking into account that totk was originally a DLC, pretty much all of botws aspects could have been developed further, i dont know what could have happened to make totk have turned out like this .. literally it feels like something had to have gone wrong, its like someone who doesnt know zelda nor botw at all was given a few prompts and then just made some generic fantasy story while the rest worked on ultrahand for 5 years

the technical impressive things ARE technical impressive, but i dont think it was necessary nor served the game well in any way (and i LOVE building games- however totk is neither a building game nor a story game nor a zelda game nor an exploration game nor a sequel imo) but zelda, this zelda, is not made for that and i cant help but think it was mainly to encourage people to make some ridiculous mechs so it can go viral on tiktok (not trying to discredit them, it IS cool what they are doing but i .... have my doubts if zelda is the right place for that)

ill stop there bc i have ranted so much about everything i dont wanna repeat it here again; it just doesnt feel like a real game (derogatory), it feels extra bad bc i was not really into zelda when botw came out and while i did get it as soon as i could (months after release since i just started a minijob and didnt have the money) i only over time grew to love zelda this much again, devouring any theories and anything about it bc i loved it so much- i was never into it like this when a new title was announced and dont own any special editions so i bought the totk collectors bc i was just so damn excited for it after the 2019 trailer dropped (god i want that time back ... it looked so much more like it was going to be an actual sequel) even if i was already worried it wouldnt be good at that point given how much i started to sense stuff i dont like about the newer trailers

i recently sold it at our local gameshop bc it was like a thorn in my side given how expensive it was and how dissapointed i was in the game, i genuinely think that, technical impressiveness aside, totk is the onyl zelda i truly cannot stand (for alot of reasons) and im genuinely worried for the future of the franchise

i bought an Oki (Okami) figurine for what i got back and i feel much happier with that :3

(also on a note, i did finish the game two weeks after release but stopped playing it right then and hadnt touched it since, i also streamed all of what i played and its still up if you want to see my slow descend into madness fjkdhkdhjk though its been a long while since then and i by far did not talk about everything back then, just what my most immediate frustrations were while still playing)

(also the gameplay isnt as good as people make it out to be, so much is so frustrating and punishing to use i am kinda baffled it got through like that and most people call that its best aspect ..... though i guess if the rest is so much worse even mid gameplay can seem good ooooooooh how dare i)

also thank you for liking what i do!!! <3 it means alot to know it is appreciated by someone :D

#ganondoodles answers #zelda #totk #ganondoodles rants #in my playthorugh i genuinely tried to be super open to what its offering me #but i think its pretty clear that i could see were it was going pretty soon and tried to fight my fear #and then i ended up being right #like i even went out of my way to get the memories and dungeons in turns so i wouldnt spoil anything #and still you can see me get sadder and dissappointed with each new memory i got #and the time it truly all started to crumble was when i discovered what they did to the shrine of life #pretty sure after i got all the lightroots and all i got was a you did it sticker i jsut gave up and went to the end #and after that i found the endfight fun so i played it a few more times #but the last few streams were mostly me ranting jkdfngvkjdfnhgjkdf #for this price its pretty bad #idk why so many people are okay with this tbh #zelda fans deserve better #i think the wasted potential and insulting treatment of both lore - botw and even the player is what frustrates me so much #sidenote i love the username bc there sure are words #alot of them even #(good) #i have done so much ranting it feels good to read someone elses rant about similar frustrations

[fluffshisuga]

Gift Wrapping (G.S)

the random urge to write jjk fanfiction on Christmas Eve as i horribly wrap Christmas presents (i have never been good at it) and in turn thought about Gojo. (Its been so long since I've written anything so if I'm rusty I am sorry </3 but maybe more soon?)

Gojo had never really tried when it came to wrapping Christmas gifts, it would just be ripped up anyway, right? Where Geto was gentle when it came to unwrapping gifts in hopes to not damage what was hidden under it, Gojo would watch in fear as Shoko would tear into the paper, debris flying everywhere with no care in the world. Gojo was the same way, of course, with no care for the paper around it., but he would never admit that.

But when you came into the picture, Gojo felt the need to make all the gifts he got you perfect, including the wrapping. He started by trying to wrap a regular box, hoping to keep the paper smooth and without any weird lumps. Geto watched in amusement, as Gojo got agitated when the corner didn't fold properly, or he was too rough with the tape and ripped the paper.

"Perhaps you should be... gentler?" Geto chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back on the sofa. Gojo huffed in response, narrowing his eyes as he glanced over at Geto. "I'm trying here. But this paper is just too... flimsy." This earns a small chuckle from Geto as he shakes his head. There was discarded paper everywhere; past attempts at the perfect wrapping laying around the room, tiny Christmas trees adorning red and white backgrounds.

"Would you like me to show you an example, then?" Geto offered. His gift wrapping was rather exceptional, compared to his other peers, neat edges and clear tape, you could hardly tell that someone even wrapped a gift. This brought out another huff from Gojo, who hung his head as he lightly nodded. "Please." Geto dropped from the sofa and moved to sit next to Gojo, taking the box he was trying to wrap and crumbling up the now-ripped paper, tossing it behind him. "The key is keeping your paper even, from the length to the cut." He stated, pulling over the roll of paper and laying it flat onto the box. Gojo watched intently as he made sure each side of the box would be covered in just the right amount of paper, smirking as he lays his hand out for scissors.

"Why do you feel the need to learn how to wrap gifts now of all times?" Geto questioned, feeling the scissors dropped into his hand. A grumble sounded next to him as Gojo mumbled quietly under his breath. "Sorry?" More grumbles. "Satoru, I can't understand you when you mumble." Gojo lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I want to make the wrapping look nice this time. Like I know what I'm doing." Geto raised a brow as he cut through the paper, his lip twitching slightly to fight a smile. "Why not just use a gift bag? Unless you've chosen some pretty big gifts." This earned a scoff from Gojo, who frowned as he continued to watch. "Because that's lazy! That's for little gifts like candy and jewelry, and those bags hold like five gifts max." He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. "I want it to look perfect, because y/n deserves it."

This causes a small chuckle to leave Geto as he drops the scissors next to him, pushing the roll of paper to the side. "Is that what this is all about? And here I thought you were trying to make my gifts look nice, for once." Gojo groaned, a small "shut up" leaving him as he shakes his head in embarrassment. Geto continues to show Gojo his wrapping technique, folding the paper neatly at the corners before securing them with small pieces of tape. "You want to make a good impression, then?" He asks, biting his lip as he tries to coax the paper to fold without ripping. Gojo nods his head, a small smile on his lips now. "Yeah, I've already got the best gifts picked out, but my wrapping skills are.... horrible." "Oh, we know." This earns a small smack on the arm from Gojo, who crossed his arms again.

"There, see? Just like that." Geto smiles, looking down at the neatly wrapped box. Gojo bites his lip as he looks at it, nodding to himself as he goes through what Geto had shown him. "Yeah, I think I got it." Geto smiles as he rises from his spot on the ground, stretching slightly as he looks around the room. "That reminds me, I have gifts to wrap as well. I'll see you later then, Satoru." He nods in Gojo's direction, waving as he closes the door behind him. Gojo looks down at the box again, biting his lip as he looks over to the corner of the room, where a neat pile of gifts sat. "My turn..."

~

Tongue poking past his lips, as well as a small string of curses leave Gojo as he tries to wrap the gifts himself. When it came to the boxed gifts, he was able to replicate what Geto had shown him to a degree, with a small Gojo flair to it, the odd crumbled corner or a weirdly placed piece of tape. But when it came to different shapes, he was stuck trying to make them as neat as possible. "How am I even supposed to...?" He mumbled to himself, looking down at a little plush that sat before him, its empty eyes practically taunting him to try and wrap it. He groans, opting to wrap the paper around it like a little bag, looking over at a reference photo on his phone. He wrapped the tape around the paper's edges, furrowing his brows as he began to rethink this choice of wrapping. Was the wrapping paper even good enough for you? Is it too much? What if you think he's stuck up if he gives you neatly wrapped gifts?

He shakes his head; it was too late to change the wrapping paper now. There were only two gifts left to wrap, a box full of different porcelain figures; cats, rabbits, a fish or two, he thought they were cute, and each time he passed them in the store he thought of you. He carefully wrapped them, being even more careful with them to not break them. "Should I put a fragile sign on them?" He muttered, tapping his chin. He shook his head a moment later, the belief that you would be gentle when he handed it to you on his mind. He sighed as he looked over at the last item, a little black box. Inside laid a silver chain, adorned with crystal-like lilies on small charms. He thought it was beautiful, and would look great against your skin, the thought of you wearing it every day making his heart flutter.

Such a small box didn't need as much wrapping paper, which was great for Gojo as he was running low. He carefully wrapped the small box, keeping the edges neat and making sure the tape didn't touch the box in any way. He smiled happily as he stretched his arms, a small yawn leaving his lips as he looked out the window for a moment. The stars outside were bright, even against the lights of the city. They were beautiful, just like you. They shined like your eyes did; how he hoped your eyes would shine when you opened the gifts he gave you. You would probably chuckle nervously as he walked over to you, his arms full as he smiled at you. You would probably even shake your head with a smile as he told you there was more in his car, as your eyes follow him as he sprints to grab the rest of them.

He finds himself smiling softly, looking back down to the pile of now-wrapped gifts. A small chuckle leaves him as he looks at his work, proud at his progress at wrapping. Perhaps you will compliment him on it when he sees you. What did you get him for Christmas? Did you even get any gifts for him? Perhaps not. Either way, seeing your smile and hearing your voice would be enough, and a small blush hits his cheeks when he thinks about how you might give him a tight hug as thanks, maybe even a kiss on the cheek.

#fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen fluff #jujustu kaisen x you

[itsonlydana]

hello! I see you have requests open...(?) for the hobbit/lotr, and I was wondering if I could request a modern!thranduil x reader fanfiction? the reader is some sort of barista/baker/other thing, and Thranduil is obviously all rich and shit and comes in once, is enamoured by shy, flustered reader and then becomes a regular? obviously, they end up together in the end. thank you!

Lattes and Love | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

it's a rainy monday, perfect for a meet-cute with the new, handsome and rich customer that you totally don't embaress yourself in front of

tags/warnings: coffeeshop!au, fluff wordcount: 2,7k an: oh, this was such a good request! Thoroughly loved writing it :)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"Falling for customers strictly forbidden!" was the non-negotiable rule for anyone who found themselves working at the loveliest café in Laketown; 'Beans & Leafs'.

Despite being written out on a wooden board behind the counter and in the kitchen, this rule was obviously ignored by more than half of the employees; the others were either happily coupled up, had no interest in romance, or had such an unhealthy work-life balance that this didn't matter anyway.

You, on the other hand, a longtime single and die-hard lover of romance novels, were one of the employees who couldn't go a month without an over-the-counter crush, serving coffees and teas as well as heart eyes and shy blushes.

You had perfected your craft of pouring coffee while thinking of scenarios where, instead of getting a tip, the handsome brunette with the gentle smile would wait until the end of your shift and invite you out for not coffee, but a drink, perhaps.

These fantasies did no one any harm; you would even go as far as to debate that the love you pledged for the customers was an ingredient that fitted exquisitely into the crushed beans and steamed milk.

There had never been any complaints, so there was no reason whatsoever why your boss, Bard, flung his arm out and pointed at the sign when the doorbell chimed one rainy Monday morning.

The weather had been particularly awful the entire weekend, clouds hanging low and leaving you to barricade yourself into your apartment, and when you'd left the house this morning, paddling away on your bike and avoiding muddy puddles as well as you could, the skies were still gray and gloomy. Inside the café the warm lamps tried their best to fight against the pale sunlight that fell through rain-streaked windows, coloring everything in washed-out watercolors.

When you followed the length of Bard's hand however it was as if the sun broke through, even if it was only for the few seconds you stared at the man who just entered the shop and stepped into the small line of customers.

He was breathtakingly gorgeous, right up the alley of models you saw in fashion magazines with his sharp cheekbones and the pair of high-waisted jeans that hugged his waist perfectly. Even his long black coat seemed like it was tailored for his broad shoulders and he looked, by all means, expensive.

"Eyes, Darlin', eyes."

It was only when Bard gently nudged his hip against yours as he passed you from behind and tapped one finger against the sign again, that you bewilderedly realized that hadn't been a direction to the customer's eyes – oh boy, they were twinkling like starlight – but rather a command to advert yours.

"Stop bossing me around," you groaned quietly, glad for the jazz music that played from speakers over your head and the chatter of the few other customers that had found their way into the 'Beans & Leafs'.

"I am your boss. I have every right to command you 'round," Bard said, knocking his knuckles against the sign, "And a rule 's a rule. Doesn't matter if you're the best worker I've got 'round here."

You stuck your tongue out at him of the corner of your mouth under the pretense that it was nothing but concentration over the milk you were pouring into a cup for the customer in front of you.

"You're so annoying," you said as you turned your back on the counter to grab a new cup. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

The question was directed at Bard but it's not his warm voice that answers your teasingly snappy question, but a deeper one without the familiar drip of Bard's accent:

"Yes, actually, so I would appreciate my latte with three shots of espresso for takeaway please."

You immediately flew around, hot shame bubbling up straight into your cheeks as you squealed, "Oh shit– I mean, shit, sorry!"

Of course. Of course, the 6ft beauty was the next in line, casually resting one arm on the counter and scrutinizing you with those captivating bright eyes that, now that he stared at you and there wasn't anything between you except the bar and miles of shame, did look exactly like starlight. This was so unprofessional and it didn't help that you were frozen on the spot.

You heard Bard's rough laughter, saw him shaking his head in not-so-quiet disbelief out of your peripheral vision and it only fueled the blush that took over your whole face. "I'm so sorry," you apologized and lowered your chin to look away from the customer and down to the coffee machine instead.

Flaming red cheeks reflected in the silver metal greeted you as you let the machine take over for the espresso – arabica beans from Brasille, rich, sweet and slightly nutty, and, if brewed correctly, which you always managed, would leave a lingering taste reminiscent of dark chocolate. "Whole milk, oat, almond, or soy?" you asked, swallowing the lump of embarrassment that was lodged in your throat.

"Oat, please."

You nodded and fell into the rhythm that you were used to, that, despite the hope the ground would tear up and swallow you completly, comes like second nature. "I just want to let you know that I truly wasn't talking to you," you started and foamed up the milk, hiding behind the steam.

The customer huffed out an amused laugh. "No? You're only that cheeky to your employer?"

Great, now he thought you were an employee who didn't respect her higher-ups. "No no! It's a joke," you cringed at the nervous chuckle you laughed, "Nothing serious, just joking. He knows I would never disrespect him, he's a good boss, one of the best actually! And–" you heard your rambling and wanted to close your eyes at the next blink and never open them again, "– and I should probably stop talking now."

Bard passed you again, patting one hand fatherly on your shoulder though this helped barely because the slight touch immediately zipped straight through your spine. In what could only be described as unfortunate timing your arm flinched forward, breaking the carefully concentrated pouring of steamed milk into the paper cup, and to your horror you watched as the foam parted through the coffee.

And created the perfect heart.

You gave yourself a second to breathe, to stare down into the paper cup and this was totally fine; you made latte art all the time and most of your favorite customers got a heart one day or another. And even if you didn't know the man at all and already made a fool out of yourself, other coffee places did this as well.

It's just coffee.

But it was never just coffee with all the love you poured into it, wasn't it?

So you steeled yourself, ignored the churning of your stomach, and plastered on a flustered smile. "Here's your coffee, Sir." The heart cheekily smiled right back, foam bobbing on top and this was definitely a moment you would be thinking about, maybe even use as an opportunity to reevaluate the importance of Bard's stupid sign. "Cash or card?"

He already pulled out a sleek wallet, manicured nails and long fingers pushed a neat $20 over to you. He wore a smirk, the corners of his mouth turned so far up that white teeth showed and dimples buried themselves into his cheeks. "Cash. I suspect the tips go straight to–" one finger lifted and pointed straight forward, "you?"

"Me," you repeated and quickly shook your head, "I mean yes, they go to me."

"Good," he chuckled, "wouldn't want anyone else to share what you earned rightfully, don't we? Keep the change."

"But Sir!" you protested because this tip was ludicrously big for a latte; more than double the amount of what he had paid for the drink on its own without the free show of you being a complete fool.

The man arched an eyebrow though it carried nothing but curiosity instead of the superiority that it would communicate by an older, more stuffy guy.

You busied your hands, cleaned the frother, and emptied the remaining ground coffee into the trash before you ran a rag over the machine, or otherwise, the probability of ruining your nailbeds was much too high. "The coffee's maybe not to your liking – what if you absolutely hate it?"

"Then I will simply order another one another time," he replied and the hope that sprung up inside your chest, another time– another visit, he would come back– bounced around your ribcage and threatened to burst right through.

Your throat clicked as you swallowed, looking up from the dark brown coffee that filled the next mug, coffee black, arabica beans imported from Peru, fruity and perfect for the cappuccino order, up to the man, this stunning beautiful man who tipped like he could throw away money and not notice the amount missing, the epitome of all what you've dreamed about and exceeding those standards the longer he stood around.

You grabbed the opportunity, damned the sign because why the hell should anyone be forbidden to fall in love with him and bit down on your lower lip, smiling softy.

"Could I get your name?"

"I already have my coffee," he said amused and the heat was back in your cheeks. "But it's Thranduil. Nice to meet you," Thranduil's starlight eyes dropped to the name-pin buttoned to your apron and flittered back up, warm and deep voice wrapping around your name in a manner that was close to too overwhelming. "Now, let's try this drink, shall we?"

Completely entranced by his soft-looking lips that twitched back into a smile at the sight of the heart, eyes locking on yours again as he lifted the cup, you watched him take a sip.

A soft hum.

Long lashes fluttering shut against the apple of his cheek.

Yep, there was no way back from this. By the end of your shift, you would probably bike home and dream about this moment, when Thranduil opened his eyes again and you were still staring, caught despite the line forming behind him, other customers held up by Bard, this wonderful man you would never ask anything of him ever again, and Thranduil competed in the new game of who would look away first.

"Sweet," his voice was still deep, coated by a warmness that only satisfactory coffee would bring, and you swore you tasted the chocolate on your tongue as you bit down on it.

The way your eyes scanned the work area to check if you had accidentally poured sugar into his coffee, he didn't order any, right? – and while the oak milk carried some sweetness with it, it wasn't much but what if– were a clear message of slight panic, nervousness of having gotten his order wrong and Thranduil quickly deescalated the deep frown forming in your eyebrows.

"Ah, don't worry. I wasn't talking about the coffee," Thranduil said, and, lifting the cup to his lips, he winked at you over the rim.

He left you like that, mouth hanging slightly open while your mind ran the calculation of whether or not he had flirted with you.

You spent the rest of the day in a haze, only managing the midday and afternoon rush with the memory of Thranduil whom you swore, you saw rushing past the window of the shop in the evening, long hair flying in the wind at his quick steps and if your mind didn't play tricks on you, his head turned when he passed you, eyes finding yours in a second that quietened down all the sounds.

The next day, he came in again, a phone pressed to his ear and an apologetic voiceless: "So sorry," when the call was seemingly important enough for him to take his latte, foam-heart included, and dashed back outside, leaving you another hefty tip but no further interaction.

You sighed.

For good measure, you even glared at the sign.

Thranduil stopped by on his way to work every morning from Monday, Thursday and Friday, ordering his latte until it waited for him at exactly 7:45, the heart inside the coffee wandering onto the takeaway cup when you started scribbling his name onto it, first on the dot of the 'i' and then, later, when you were brave enough, next to the name.

It was a hurdle, more than often you had the sharpie pressed into the paper, blacking out from sheer panic that seeped through you like the dark ink that ended up either a smiley or a flower or full stop.

Thranduil would come in, sweep you off your feet by simply smiling or smirking at the new doodle on his coffee, steaming hot as soon as the bell announced his arrival, and leave. Never without tipping you enough for you to buy a new bike at the end of the first month of him visiting the 'Beans & Leafs'.

On Saturdays, Thranduil came in and settled his tall body into one of the window tables, entirely oblivious to all the ogling he got from passersby as well as customers, they stared all the same at his beauty and the weekend always got better because his sole focus was on you.

On Saturdays, he got his coffee, a Cappuccino served in dark blue mugs that complimented his white-blond hair and the rosé of his lips that savored every last drop, and he started asking you for your opinions on the breakfast options.

The first time he did it, long legs crossed over each other and his head propped up on his hands listening intently, you rambled on the entirety of the menu, babbling on and on and on:

"We got wonderful apple rose tarts, that truly look like roses, and rhubarb pie or a lemon shortcake – that one goes perfectly with the chocolaty taste of the coffee beans! And we have croissants, banana bread, and a cheese Danish!"

"Mhmm, all of those sound ama–" Thranduil started but was interrupted by your nervous continuing chatter:

"And of course, you could have a chicken and avocado sandwich, if you want something more savory. Or our chefs make a mean bacon and egg one with arugula and a blueberry vinaigrette?" you asked and threw a quick look to Thranduil who hid his amused smile that lit up his whole face behind his fingers. "Oh, or are you a vegetarian? Then I would recommend the olive, tomato and hummus bagel, but maybe you don't like olives. For that, we have a walnut quiche–"

"Yes, I am vegetarian–"

The smile bloomed past the, noticeably large, hands, the corner of his mouth curling up while his eyebrows furrowed in the concentration of keeping still, watching you in awe as your breath held on far longer than his ability to remain calm and it was only a matter of time until you were done.

Your eyes landed on the dimples, the soft crow feet next to his eyes, and low on oxygen you finally managed to detangle yourself from the menu that you had previously, in preparation for this moment, had carefully written down on your notesblock, the page now crinkled at the edges and most of the ink smeared under the hard press of your thumbs.

"Great! Do you want me to repeat the vegetarian options?"

Thranduil ordered all of your recommendations.

Not all at once, it wasn't past you to bring out dozens of plates at his request but Thranduil kept to two cups of coffee and worked his way through the display of cakes, pies, breads, rolls and sandwiches, always prepared by you.

You served him his first coffee with a heart in his mug and a plate for him to eat and after rushing through the next hour, eyes locking across the room now and again whenever you looked up from the coffee machine and he from his plate, you would bring him his second cup, carrying the heart-coffee and another one for you to sip on during your break, legs brushing against each other under the small table.

It was there, at this table, that Thranduil asked you out, not two months after the first interaction.

It was also at this table that he kissed you for the first time, tasting like love, lattes and a bit of chocolate.

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

#📁files: thranduil fanfics #thranduil x reader #thranduil oropherion #thranduil fanfiction #king thranduil #thranduil x you #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

[junkanimate]

EHY I'VE BEEN READING A LOT OF FANFICTIONS LATELY

I know, who would have guess?? Anyway I wanted to send some appreciation all around to some of the fanfics I've read, because writers need some more appreciation in general.

so, in no particular order:

✨Here's a list of fanfics I've read/I'm reading that I think they're pretty good✨

Solid Stone Turns To Clay by @randyzorra - MK fic

A solid Johnshi fic set in a pirate au, I'm absolutely obsessed with it. It's a beautiful slow burn, where Johnny is a disgraced bounty hunter who's trying to regain his fame by stealing The Shadow, legendary cursed ship. Ship that so happens to have a certain someone as her captain. Honestly not only I love the romance, but also the friendship between Johnny and Kung Lao and Johnny and Baraka.

Beware that this fic is tagged as explicit, so check the tags carefully

Back There by houndhead - MK fic

Ehy, have you ever thought that Raiden wasn't there when the others went to Outworld to find Shang Tsung? Yeah what if they never told him what happened back there because of good ol' classic trauma? I'm in love with this concept and houndhead explores it in a very interesting way, showing us how each character would act after experiencing what happened at the lab. I also really love how the characters interact with each other, in the last chapter Tanya and Tomas are just perfect.

Raise The Blade (Make The Change) by cherrycola94 - MK fic

A very fun Johnshi fic that's written a little bit like a script, it has some added scene set before the game, some exploration of the canon through a Johnshi lense, ad finally it continues as a post canon, with a very fun story. While I was reading it I could see in my head the scene perfectly, like it was actually a movie. The second chapter has an AMAZING SCENE, like I was so in love that I have a wip of that scene. I should come back and finish it honestly. The new chapter had exactly the kind of scene I was craving for recently, I'm so happy they wrote it!

But I lowered my sword when you held me and swore (you'd stay, stay, stay) by @necromanticzz - MK fic

It's a johnshi fic with a Kenshi pov, where Kenshi has so many walls up doesn't want any help but Johnny just seems to be able to go through them without any problems. Honestly I also advice the other fic necromanticzz wrote about them, the way Kenshi gets chracterized in both of them is just *chef's kiss* perfect, beautiful, amazing. The two fics are just my favourite in the way Kenshi is written, applause all around, love it.

Koffee Shop Kombat by @loujitsushotsoup - MK fic

Because a classic coffee shop au is always needed. We have multiple ships, different writing styles between chaptes, changing with which character's pov we are following, and I love the creativity that was put in it. You maybe saw this post where I drew one of the scenes in this fic, so YOU KNOW that I mean it when i say that I love this fic. And I'm a big sucker for coffee shops as a setting, really love them in real life as well.

Cole's Chilli Recipe by @before-time-had-a-name - Ninjago fic

Another fic where I drew one of the scenes and it's because it deserves it. It's a lostshipping fic, very sweet, very cozy, honestly Cole and Geo make me incredibly emotional everytime and this fic also straight up picked me up and squashed me. I saw in some of the reblogs on my post that people went to check out the fic and I'm so happy about it because they deserve his work to be checked out. And honestly if I can give her more spotlight I will take the chance. Go check out this fic, it's very cool.

Here Comes Casey Jones by Invader_Sam - TMNT MM fic

Very sweet rasey fic that takes place post movie, with the turtles going to highschool and Raph meeting for the first time Casey Jones. What can I say? I just really love Rasey, and I love they're both clearly crushing on each other but they're not really saying it. And the fact that there's no unecessary teenage angst, they just really like each other, and I love that for them ❤

Think Of It As War Paint by less_depresso_more_espresso - TMNT 2012 fic

Another Rasey one, short and sweet, where both of them honestly are giving so much gender in my humble opinion. It's hard to explaning it without just saying all the fic, so we could say it's about them just chilling on a roof.

A Garden Across Our Collarbone by PittedPeaches - LMK fic

I think everyone and their mom already know this fic, and if you don't it would be my honor to talk to you about it. This for me is THE spicynoodle fic, it was one year of my life and honestly at the end of it I cried. This is a soulmate au, where demons sometimes have soulmates, and when that happen it's like they share skin, so they can write stuff on their body and it will appeared on the skin of their soulmate. It mostly starts like a rewriting of seson 1-2-3 by Red son's pov with this new dynamic, and then it becomes a new original timeline. The way this fic is everything to me, every chapter was an incredible experience, I fell in love with this fic at every chapter. So many beautiful scenes, written so beautifully, as I said this fic was 1 YEAR of my life. It was also a very difficult year, and I'm honestly so happy that this fic was there for that time of my life.

Desde el Principio by ShippingMyWorld - Nicktoons United fic

Okay idk If you saw me reblogging a bunch of Nicktoons fanart like two days ago, but just so you know I'm totally going into the rabbit hole of this fandom and I will be lost for a while. Now, this is a Danny Fenton/Manny Rivera fic, the tag has only two fics and both of them are from this writer.

I wish I had this commitment in my life, to just being THE ONLY one creating a specific content for something and still having the motivation of doing it

I read this fic last night, I finished it at 5 a.m. and I do not regret it at all, this was amazing

I actually recommend reading both fics because they are very good, I'm giving a shout out to this one because I think it's the one that made the biggest impact to me personally. ShippingMyWorld you did it, you converted me, I ship this now.

And that's the list, thank you so much to every fanfic writers that give us such amazing art everyday, you're the backbone of fandom!

#mortal kombat #lmk #tmnt #lego ninjago #nicktoons #always wanted to do a masterpost of fic recommendations and I finally did it #they're clearly more mk themed #because it's the only tag I've been browsing for a while #and if you see that all of them are tagged as johnshi no you didn't #it's not like I have the johnny cage/kenshi takahashi tag open 24/7 #fic rec

[goldkirk]

Gregor the Overlander fanfiction?! Gregor the Overlander mention!?!?! Tbh it's been so long since I've read it I barely remember it. After Hunger Games' success they need to make a Gregor the Overlander adaptation.

GREGOR THE OVERLANDER WAS SO IMPORTANT TO ME friend I was OBSESSED.

I very genuinely wrote a letter to Disney as a 10 year old asking them to make an adaption and consider casting my new baby nephew and me as a gender-reversed Gregor and Boots I shit you not. I refuse to be embarassed by that, it wasn't cringe, baby me was just That Fucking Into It and wanted to share it with the world lol

My first fanfic was Code of Claw post-series fix-it fic written on a legal pad my mom gave me to use when I was bored silly partway through a day of errands. Complete with fanart of Gregor climbing into a sewer drain and all.

Frankly your excitement bouncing off of my excitement is making me think I need to read it again too, it's been so long. At my peak I could chant every prophecy in the books and tap and scratch messages to myself in code bc I had for some reason memorized the whole Tree of Transmission better than I ever managed to memorize Morse Code.

I'm so overjoyed to talk with someone who was also in love with that series. I completely agree that they need to make a Gregor the Overlander adaption, but also I'm 100% sure they NEED to animate it and never, ever, EVER fucking do a live show. I don't think there's any way to capture the depth and scale of the world/creatures and the differences between adult and kid perspectives of what's going on in the Underland and a lot of the unique features into live action stuff without weakening it, and for me, I felt as a kid like these books were the first and only series for KIDS (not teens) that really really made me feel known as a kid-who-knew-adults-in-charge-can-lie-and-be-bad-sometimes AND as a kid-who-still-defaults-to-believing-the-best-anyway and how those intersect.

I feel like The Underland Chronicles, Ender's Game, and The Hunger Games all are in a specific category of story and boy is that category important. The Gregor books additionally take kids more seriously than any of the others, which was extra cool.

Sorry for the wall of text and the rambling all over lol, thank you for the ask!!!! I hope you have an awesome day and an enjoyable time next time you reread the Underland Chronicles <3

#katie answers asks #psudopod #bibliophile #the underland chronicles #tuc #gregor the overlander #fanfiction #personal