#fun fact this was a wip for a long time and i first made it when i got back into the fandom :)

[autisticakaashitruther]

9.10🍊🫐💕

[sallymew4]

hi guys

(forever) wips below are: scene redraw (that i actually started on way before posting mobsai here. crazy !), and teru in an outfit i saw at the mall once (denim dress. dress made of NOTHING but denim. it caught me off-guard but i think i was just being too harsh <3 he was going to wear those galaxy leggings all middle schoolers wear with it as well)

originally this post was just gonna be me posting pretty old wips that i never finished cuz ive been sick (i actually feel way better now tho) and lazy but then i started perusing some more of my older mobsai doodles and unfinished arts and decided to post those alongside the ones above :) i just think its fun to see how my art has developed grown and changed over a period of time, especially with the designs of these characters

if ur interested in lookin at suma those vv

thunder claps welcome

reminder and warning that a lot of these were me still kind of figuring out how to draw them so they will NOT be beautiful picasso

i think this was the first digital mob i ever drew..... he was born august of last year..wow

i was incredibly weak for father reigen if you couldn't tell [sarcasm]

i also didnt know how his suit worked. lol

soryr i was mean 2o u serizwaw sir. anwyays

various ritus (ft teru) vv i made him very hateful because i thought it was funny

v v supa unfinished (obviously) pre-mob teru stuff, just hanging out by roof railing

and then there was a looot of what might be my favorite genre of these, which were just goofy little scribbles

that last one i made in the middle of watching the last episode. i promptly teared up in the bathroom after finishing it

anyways thats pretty much it, for digital anyways :) i like looking back on art, cuz then im like "oh wow, improvement IS real" (i always forget). ill try drawin some moar stuff 4or yalls, i already gots sumthn in the works. oka bye thank you for looking !!11!

[bookishdiplodocus]

The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity

(Even when life beats you down)

Look, I’m a mom, I have ADHD, I’m a spoonie. To say that I don’t have heaps of energy to spare and I struggle with consistency is an understatement. For years, I tried to write consistently, but I couldn’t manage to keep up with habits I built and deadlines I set.

So fuck neurodivergent guides on building habits, fuck “eat the frog first”, fuck “it’s all in the grind”, and fuck “you just need time management”—here is how I manage to write often and a lot.

Focus on having fun, not on the outcome

This was the groundwork I had to lay before I could even start my streak. At an online writing conference, someone said: “If you push yourself and meet your goals, and you publish your book, but you haven’t enjoyed the process… What’s the point?” and hoo boy, that question hit me like a truck.

I was so caught up in the narrative of “You’ve got to show up for what’s important” and “Push through if you really want to get it done”. For a few years, I used to read all these productivity books about grinding your way to success, and along the way I started using the same language as they did. And I notice a lot of you do so, too.

But your brain doesn’t like to grind. No-one’s brain does, and especially no neurodivergent brain. If having to write gives you stress or if you put pressure on yourself for not writing (enough), your brain’s going to say: “Huh. Writing gives us stress, we’re going to try to avoid it in the future.”

So before I could even try to write regularly, I needed to teach my brain once again that writing is fun. I switched from countable goals like words or time to non-countable goals like “fun” and “flow”.

Rewire my brain: writing is fun and I’m good at it

I used everything I knew about neuroscience, psychology, and social sciences. These are some of the things I did before and during a writing session. Usually not all at once, and after a while I didn’t need these strategies anymore, although I sometimes go back to them when necessary.

I journalled all the negative thoughts I had around writing and try to reason them away, using arguments I knew in my heart were true. (The last part is the crux.) Imagine being supportive to a writer friend with crippling insecurities, only the friend is you.

Not setting any goals didn’t work for me—I still nurtured unwanted expectations. So I did set goals, but made them non-countable, like “have fun”, “get in the flow”, or “write”. Did I write? Yes. Success! Your brain doesn’t actually care about how high the goal is, it cares about meeting whatever goal you set.

I didn’t even track how many words I wrote. Not relevant.

I set an alarm for a short time (like 10 minutes) and forbade myself to exceed that time. The idea was that if I write until I run out of mojo, my brain learns that writing drains the mojo. If I write for 10 minutes and have fun, my brain learns that writing is fun and wants to do it again.

Reinforce the fact that writing makes you happy by rewarding your brain immediately afterwards. You know what works best for you: a walk, a golden sticker, chocolate, cuddle your dog, whatever makes you happy.

I conditioned myself to associate writing with specific stimuli: that album, that smell, that tea, that place. Any stimulus can work, so pick one you like. I consciously chose several stimuli so I could switch them up, and the conditioning stays active as long as I don’t muddle it with other associations.

Use a ritual to signal to your brain that Writing Time is about to begin to get into the zone easier and faster. I guess this is a kind of conditioning as well? Meditation, music, lighting a candle… Pick your stimulus and stick with it.

Specifically for rewiring my brain, I started a new WIP that had no emotional connotations attached to it, nor any pressure to get finished or, heaven forbid, meet quality norms. I don’t think these techniques above would have worked as well if I had applied them on writing my novel.

It wasn’t until I could confidently say I enjoyed writing again, that I could start building up a consistent habit. No more pushing myself.

I lowered my definition for success

When I say that nowadays I write every day, that’s literally it. I don’t set out to write 1,000 or 500 or 10 words every day (tried it, failed to keep up with it every time)—the only marker for success when it comes to my streak is to write at least one word, even on the days when my brain goes “naaahhh”. On those days, it suffices to send myself a text with a few keywords or a snippet. It’s not “success on a technicality (derogatory)”, because most of those snippets and ideas get used in actual stories later. And if they don’t, they don’t. It’s still writing. No writing is ever wasted.

A side note on high expectations, imposter syndrome, and perfectionism

Obviously, “Setting a ridiculously low goal” isn’t something I invented. I actually got it from those productivity books, only I never got it to work. I used to tell myself: “It’s okay if I don’t write for an hour, because my goal is to write for 20 minutes and if I happen to keep going for, say, an hour, that’s a bonus.” Right? So I set the goal for 20 minutes, wrote for 35 minutes, and instead of feeling like I exceeded my goal, I felt disappointed because apparently I was still hoping for the bonus scenario to happen. I didn’t know how to set a goal so low and believe it.

I think the trick to making it work this time lies more in the groundwork of training my brain to enjoy writing again than in the fact that my daily goal is ridiculously low. I believe I’m a writer, because I prove it to myself every day. Every success I hit reinforces the idea that I’m a writer. It’s an extra ward against imposter syndrome.

Knowing that I can still come up with a few lines of dialogue on the Really Bad Days—days when I struggle to brush my teeth, the day when I had a panic attack in the supermarket, or the day my kid got hit by a car—teaches me that I can write on the mere Bad-ish Days.

The more I do it, the more I do it

The irony is that setting a ridiculously low goal almost immediately led to writing more and more often. The most difficult step is to start a new habit. After just a few weeks, I noticed that I needed less time and energy to get into the zone. I no longer needed all the strategies I listed above.

Another perk I noticed, was an increased writing speed. After just a few months of writing every day, my average speed went from 600 words per hour to 1,500 wph, regularly exceeding 2,000 wph without any loss of quality.

Talking about quality: I could see myself becoming a better writer with every passing month. Writing better dialogue, interiority, chemistry, humour, descriptions, whatever: they all improved noticeably, and I wasn’t a bad writer to begin with.

The increased speed means I get more done with the same amount of energy spent. I used to write around 2,000-5,000 words per month, some months none at all. Nowadays I effortlessly write 30,000 words per month. I didn’t set out to write more, it’s just a nice perk.

Look, I’m not saying you should write every day if it doesn’t work for you. My point is: the more often you write, the easier it will be.

No pressure

Yes, I’m still working on my novel, but I’m not racing through it. I produce two or three chapters per month, and the rest of my time goes to short stories my brain keeps projecting on the inside of my eyelids when I’m trying to sleep. I might as well write them down, right?

These short stories started out as self-indulgence, and even now that I take them more seriously, they are still just for me. I don’t intend to ever publish them, no-one will ever read them, they can suck if they suck. The unintended consequence was that my short stories are some of my best writing, because there’s no pressure, it’s pure fun.

Does it make sense to spend, say, 90% of my output on stories no-one else will ever read? Wouldn’t it be better to spend all that creative energy and time on my novel? Well, yes. If you find the magic trick, let me know, because I haven’t found it yet. The short stories don’t cannibalize on the novel, because they require different mindsets. If I stopped writing the short stories, I wouldn’t produce more chapters. (I tried. Maybe in the future? Fingers crossed.)

Don’t wait for inspiration to hit

There’s a quote by Picasso: “Inspiration hits, but it has to find you working.” I strongly agree. Writing is not some mystical, muse-y gift, it’s a skill and inspiration does exist, but usually it’s brought on by doing the work. So just get started and inspiration will come to you.

Accountability and community

Having social factors in your toolbox is invaluable. I have an offline writing friend I take long walks with, I host a monthly writing club on Discord, and I have another group on Discord that holds me accountable every day. They all motivate me in different ways and it’s such a nice thing to share my successes with people who truly understand how hard it can be.

The productivity books taught me that if you want to make a big change in your life or attitude, surrounding yourself with people who already embody your ideal or your goal huuuugely helps. The fact that I have these productive people around me who also prioritize writing, makes it easier for me to stick to my own priorities.

Your toolbox

The idea is to have several techniques at your disposal to help you stay consistent. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket by focussing on just one technique. Keep all of them close, and if one stops working or doesn’t inspire you today, pivot and pick another one.

After a while, most “tools” run in the background once they are established. Things like surrounding myself with my writing friends, keeping up with my daily streak, and listening to the album I conditioned myself with don’t require any energy, and they still remain hugely beneficial.

Do you have any other techniques? I’d love to hear about them!

I hope this was useful. Happy writing!

[simpjaes]

☆ WIP DIARY ── MILF HUNT (p.js)☆

You’ve never been one to chase younger men, but that doesn’t change the fact that one particular younger man won't stop chasing you. You barely recognized him at first, with the dyed hair, a matured attitude, and a darkened wardrobe. He definitely recognized you though and apparently has made it his mission to prove his worth to you. Unfortunately for him, you’re not interested in giving a chance to the pain-in-your-ass son of the family you used to babysit for. 

⨯ park jongseong x afab milf!reader  

⨯ minors dni

⨯ tags: tags are subject to change as i write this fic. age gap: reader is in her late 20s and jay is 22, milf trope, college pool boy jay (turned part time babysitter), reader has 1 kid and jay really wants to give her another, reader has morals!! jay just doesn’t care and is dead set on making her break her moral code for him lol, jay is actually very sweet when he gets what he wants

⨯ !WARNINGS!: warnings are subject to change as I write this. age gap, jay is the aggressor here, like he will not lay off it or take no for an answer. A LOT of chasing, manipulation, and dub-con (reader does want it). major breeding kink and kind of a mommy and daddy kink but mostly in terms of being turned on to having a domestic life lmao, angst regarding reader and her ex husband, reader has huge tits

LAST UPDATED: 10.19.24

⨯ est wordcount: 15k (hopefully not more this time)

⨯ current wordcount: 7.8k

⨯ est release date: tbd

⨯ taglist: ask to be on my perma tag list!

teaser:

Today, you’re more thankful for Jay than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. 

He was so understanding when you called, even happy to come over right then and there to put your daughter to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. 

It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit…he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are since it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body. 

In reality, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, rubbing his legs together when you walk away and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.

His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.

“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.” 

Jay shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you. 

“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, as if encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there.

Just, look at you. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home tonight. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that. 

But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, your goddamn stove to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you implied you may not come home tonight?

And you’re dressed as if you were intending easy access? 

And you’re…

Fuck, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man in your life who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice. 

Maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone to fuck, or love, or–

“Thank you, Jongseong,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips. 

He’s never heard you speak such casual words so sensually. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fuuucking hell, somehow it feels worse internally seeing you act like this, after how many times he’s imagined it. 

A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club. 

“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead. 

Ah, it burns. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? 

The same way you checked him out so many times before realizing who he is? 

“It’s no problem.” Jay says shortly, now adjusting his body to sink deeper into your couch to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now. 

Hah. Permission.

“Be safe.” He adds again, in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Hah, probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend you ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes even a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. 

He knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this, and entirely because you’re technically coming home to him. 

This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock in your guest room, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in. 

Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.

Like, who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man, clearly. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….

Click.

Jay’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat. 

In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-screams “Shit, fuck–”

Jay looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out a sigh. 

“You’re late.” He says shortly, smelling the alcohol on your breath and telling him, if the stumble didn’t, that you’ve had far too much.

“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”

“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”

You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother.

“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?”  Jay rolls his eyes before fixing them on you. God, the things he’d do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ i'm really trying to keep this one at 15k or less, but i rly don't know if that'll happen. we shall see!!!

[dinogoofymutated]

Cable/GN!Reader Okay, so I'm on my Cable shit again. I found this WIP and a couple others for him and GODDD UGH I'm so fucking obsessed. Love a good danger room sparring scene so this one was just for fun ;) I'd consider it part of the tender moments series I have going on, but you don't need to read the other two to understand this one. TWS: Kinda spicy, no smut. Making out, sparring, Nate being an absolute goofball in his own way. Caught by the parents trope (sorry Scott). Short but cute.

    Cable’s gun was smoking by the time the two of you cleared the last level of the danger room, and you were having the time of your life. You were tired, sure. But there was just something about the danger room that gave you such an adrenaline rush, and you were sure it might just be that you don’t actually have to worry about dying in here compared to real fights (mostly, at least). 

    You were having fun, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have a plan to excite the day a little further.

    “Alright, Last level finished. We should clear out for the others.” Cable says to you, switching the safety on his gun as he sets it to the side, stretching his arms and shoulders.

    “Well, actually…” You don’t even have to finish the thought, Nathan raising an eyebrow at you as he stands up to his full height, crossing his arms at you.

    “Seriously? You requested extra time to spar?” He asks, and even though he’s frowning, you can tell he’s poking fun at you. You shrug at him, looking up at him with an excited smile on your face.

    “Yeah? Why not?” You ask, knowing full well that you had never sparred with Nathan before despite the many years the two of you have been a team. Nate lets out an amused hum, looming before you as he squares his shoulders.

    “You realize that I’m twice your size, right?” Nathan says, an amused smile on his face.

    “And? Come on Nate, It’s not like I haven't fought someone your size before.” You tell him, and it makes Nathan laugh.

    “You mean the times I had to step in to save your sorry ass?” He says, causing your smile to drop into a pout as you start to deny it, just for him to flood your mind with somewhat embarrassing memories of him doing just that.

    “I- would you cut that out!” You scold, slapping his arm just to immediately try to hide the fact that it hurt- the sting of the metal a sharp pain across your palm. He chuckles at the action anyway- but you’ve never been a quitter.

     “-It’s starting to sound like you’re just making excuses, old man.” You say instead, and his eyes narrow at the name. He tilts his head at you with a dry expression like he’s asking if you're absolutely sure you want to play this game today, only for you to stubbornly meet his gaze with a defiant smirk.

    He doesn't stop to reply, instead immediately rushing you.

    He catches you off-guard at first, taking the breath out of you for a moment before you’re quickly ducking under his arms. Escaping him before he can get a good grip on you. If there was one thing that always surprised you, it was how Nathan managed to be so quick despite his huge stature. It’s hard to go blow to blow with him due to the size difference between the two of you, but you manage to get more than a few good hits in. You don’t know how long the two of you spar for, but when Nate finally kicks your legs out from underneath you and pins you to the ground, you’re too tired to fully fight back.

    The two of you are heaving, grinning at each other as your gaze stays locked, and even though you’re outmatched, you’re still unwilling to give up. Nathan gives you a judging stare as he hears the thought, unable to understand why you’re just so stubborn. Sure, he technically had bested you- calling just about every move you made down to the T due to his abilities, but you found that the best way to take Nathan by surprise was to act on impulse. 

    “Don’t be stubborn. You know you’ve been-” Nate lets out a surprised noise as you cut him off with a kiss, dragging him down closer to you by his broad shoulders. He’s stiff and surprised for a moment before he relaxes into the kiss. You had originally planned for this to be a distraction, but lord knows that you should have realized you would quickly be too caught up in the feeling of him against you to remember or care about what you were doing before.

    Nathan nips at your lips as one of his hands slides under your back to support you, the other keeping himself propped up against the tile floors. You let him take charge in the kiss as your hands wander up and down his clothed chest, drifting down to yank his shirt out of his belt so that you can touch his bare abdomen instead. Nate sighs into the kiss, adjusting so that he can press his knee against your core, causing you to moan into the kiss as his hand begins to slide your shirt off and he begins to kiss down your jaw and neck, just barely beginning to ravish you completely when the door slides open with a swish.

    “WOAH!” A voice calls out from the doorway, one you recognize instantly. You and Nathan separate, both startled by the sudden intrusion. Scott quickly covers his sunglass-covered eyes he looks away, embarrassed. You swear that you and Nate had never separated so quickly before, trying to make yourselves proper as you stand up and turn to face his young father.

    “I was- Uh, I was going to tell you two that dinner was ready.” Scott stutters out, still covering his eyes.

    “Oh! I didn't notice how long we had been in here!” You ramble, nervously fidgeting with your hands as you pretend to check the time. “Thank you for coming to get us.” You continue nervously, knowing for a fact you were only digging your hole deeper. Maybe once you’re done digging you can lie down inside of it and die from this horrible embarrassment.

    Thank him or apologize or something! You think pointedly at Cable while you're standing there, and all he does is give you an incredulous look.

    I’m not doing -either-. He interrupted us! Nathan tells you, returning the thought without so much as speaking a word.

    That’s because we were about to- You can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, blushing intensely at the images you think of as you picture exactly what you wanted him to do to you on the danger room floor. You see a light blush rise to Nathan’s cheeks too, despite his ever-grumpy expression. -WAIT!- Not the point! It- Damnit! PUBLIC space, Nathan! Public space!!! Damn your stupid intrusive thoughts! You know you’re completely flustered and embarrassed, unable to actually believe that you were just walked in on by Nathan’s young father.

    Scott finally turns to leave for a moment, and you feel the tension in your shoulders let up a bit when the doors slide shut, only for your anxiety to spark immediately after when the doors swoosh open again, Scott still standing there with his eyes covered.

    “I, uh, since you’re both grown adults and everything, I assume I don’t need to give you the talk, Right?” Scott asks, and if you could shrivel up and die right at this moment in time, you would gladly do so.

    “Oh my god.” You sat, covering your red face.

    “No, Dad! Could you just leave already?!” Nathan finally yells, and for a moment you wonder if all this embarrassment you’re feeling is coming from him, too. Scott nods vigorously, letting out a quiet, “Yeah, Yup.” as he quickly and finally leaves the room. 

    Both of you let out a sigh of relief when he’s gone, still embarrassed to the very core at bening caught like that.

    “Jesus Christ, we look like a couple of horny teens or something, getting caught like that.” You mumble after a long pause, trying to shake it off. You hear Nathan snort from next to you, and you give him a confused look. 

    “Who’s we?” He asks. You roll your eyes and he lets out an amused huff at the sight.

    I’ve seen every corner of your mind, Sweetpea. You can’t hide your thoughts from me. Nate tells you, flashing the images of some of your dirtiest and most inappropriate thoughts about him in your mind. You were sure there was so much blood rushing to your face at this point that it was about to explode.

    “Would you, please, stop that!”

[the-superoriginal]

A taste of the forbidden fruit

Summary: This should have been just a day like any other. But it ended with something you hadn't even dared to hope to actually happen.

Warning(s): dbf!bucky, short!female!reader, age gap (reader is in her early 20 and Bucky in his mid 30s), kissing, guess you can read it as a gender neutral! reader too?

A/N: I finally finished a/this WIP! Wuhu! (Please, imagine me to wipe the non-existenting sweat from my forehead now.) I am not really satisfied with it through, but I guess I can still publish a updated version one day.

PS: I am awful with writing summaries and titles.

English is not my native language!

You leaned back against the beige jeep of your Dad's best friend, the sun slowly setting after a long day and basking the sky in a mix of orange, lila und blue. "I'll bet 5 Dollar that she won't even remember this tomorrow.", you grinned slightly amused as Bucky came back out of your friend's house again. He had just brought her in like the gentleman he was, because Lucy had drunk just a bit too much. And considering your height difference and the fact she weighed a bit more you hadn't been able to bring her in. The man chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit as he rounded his car, pointing at you for a moment while opening the driver's seat door. "Deal."

He may be a gentleman but he could have fun too.

Your grin widened as you seated yourself in the passenger seat again. Bucky following just a second later. His cologne hit you after the doors were closed and he started to drive. It tickled your nose, his scent a pleasing mix of the cologne and him — musky, old books and motor oil.

It wasn't the first time you noticed it and you were sure it wouldn't be the last. He was your father's best friend after all which inevitably meant that he was at least once a week in your parents house and also had physical contact with you occasionally.

"There we are.", Bucky mumbled as he opened the passenger door for you, helping you out with his larger hand wrapped around yours. You chuckled a bit, ignoring the warmth his touch sent through you. "You don't need to do that, you know that, yeah?"

He just smiled, revealing his laugh lines to you again as he closed the door behind you, letting go of your hand in the progress. He was beautiful and you screwed for catching yourself thinking it more and more recently. "I know. But I wanted to do it.", he simply said and you cursed internally for how it made your heart skip.

"You coming in too?", you asked while already making your way to the front door. You hoped he would. Just so you could spend a bit more time with him. Especially now where it were just you two. Without your parents or friends. Bucky chuckled lightly as you opened the door, his words soft. "Of course."

A few hours passed filled with laughter and shared stories. By now the sky was dark to make room for the moon and stars. "And then I spilled my coffee on him.", you ended your story with a chuckle. It wasn't embarrassing to you anymore. There had been enough time passed between the happening of the story and now. Bucky chuckled, his forearms resting on the kitchen isle were you two were seated since a while. "Well, that's one way to do it."

"It's a good way through. 'Cause it worked." He shook his head lightly in disbelief, still grinning while you took a sip from your hot cocoa. The liquid flowing down your throat pleasantly. His blue eyes catched yours as you set the cup on the isle and suddenly something shifted. His eyes held a glint that you hadn't seen before. They seemed lighter, sparkling in a way.

Bucky leaned a bit closer and you weren't sure if he even noticed it himself, his gaze dropping lower for a second and your heart skipped in ancipaction. There was clearly something unspoken lingering in the air, not able to be missed. A desire, longing. Yet there was also the unfiltered reality in the back of your mind, your inner voice arguing to lean back or away. To do anything to break this spell that lay over you two. Bucky was older than you and, the even more important part, he was your father's best friend.

But then his lips brushed yours. A barely there touch, so featherlight that yours eyes falled closed on their own accord, and the voice got quieter. He gave you the chance to pull away and simultaneously tested the waters. You gathered your courage and then you pressed your lips against his.

Bucky breathed quietly out and then he kissed you fully, his hands finding their way on your cheeks, holding your face delicately while your lips melted together in a gentle symphony full of longing and desire. You didn't know how long the kiss lasted, but when he parted your hands had a soft grip on his shirt. God, you have never been kissed like this before.

"We will figure this out.", he whispered quietly after moments were your inner voice had come back. His words were a promise that this wasn't just a fleeting thing. That they would be more. That he wanted more.

[uraichievents]

UraIchi Week 2024

Monday, July 1st, 2024 - Sunday, July 7th, 2024

AO3 Collection

Full Prompts List Submitted This Year

(Click images to enlarge. Alt text under the cut.)

What is UraIchi Week?

It’s a week-long fanworks event to promote the Urahara Kisuke x Kurosaki Ichigo ship. There’s no sign-up, it’s just for fun, and everybody can participate. Completed works and wips are both acceptable, and any type of fanwork (fanfic, fanart, gifsets, etc.) is welcome. NSFW and/or potentially trigger-y content is allowed, although please remember to tag your works properly.

The ship itself can be written romantically or platonically, as lovers or friends or even enemies, so long as it stars these two characters together in some way. Poly ships are also fine so long as Ichigo and Kisuke are still the focus of the fanwork. And crossovers and fusions are also allowed even if it isn’t one of the given prompts for the event. Basically, anything goes, and the only criteria is that it has to be UraIchi-centric.

Posting:

UraIchi Week is hosted here on Tumblr and on AO3. For posts on Tumblr, remember to ping @uraichievents and tag #UraIchi Week 2024. For AO3, you can add your work(s) to the collection linked up above. You are also welcome to join the UraIchi Discord server if you haven’t already and come and talk about what you’re working on!

Themes:

July 1st, Day 1: i've met you before / i'll meet you again / this is the first time we've met.. right?

Time Travel / Dimension Travel

Identity Porn / Hidden Identities

“I've suffered from traumatic dreams of my past lives since I was a child, and I'm just now realizing that coming up to a beautiful stranger who looks like someone I've seen die a thousand times in a thousand different ways at a bar and asking if we've met before sounds a lot like a come-on haha no wait come back that doesn't mean I'm not desperately attracted to you please kiss me again” AU

July 2nd, Day 2: It's fact that killable problems are not real problems.

Murder Husbands

Ichigo is Deadpool / unbreakable / any other accidentally immortal being who is really kind of annoyed about it (because it’s boring, and he’s still young enough to be within his lifespan, but it sure takes the fun out of fighting).

All the times Ichigo died, he ACTUALLY died, he just came back. Every time he comes back, he comes back Wronger.

July 3rd, Day 3: Things I Should've Told You / Things I Don't Tell Anyone Else

The skeletons in your closet are about to overflow. Would you like me to tidy it up?

Ichigo is experimenting with self-expression, a hobby, etc., making up for lost time as a regular teenager. Urahara is always the first one (sometimes only one) to see or hear about a new idea.

“The person I trust most is you.”

July 4th, Day 4: Sword and Shield

I am yours to command, use me as you please.

Shiba!Ichigo and Second Division!Kisuke

Summoner/Mage AU: Paired summons who are good apart but unmatched together.

July 5th, Day 5: That One is Mine

Hollow Instincts / Feral Protective

Possessive!Kisuke: He stepped aside for Sui-Feng because Yoruichi was always master first and friend second and love interest never, and because Yoruichi wanted her in a way she's never wanted him. But Ichigo is different, and everyone soon realizes that when Kisuke truly wants something, he always gets it in the end.

“Death can’t have you. You’re mine.”

July 6th, Day 6: Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Some are born, some are made, and some decide being a monster's pretty fucking cool.

Visored!Urahara Kisuke AU / Vasto Lorde!Kurosaki Ichigo AU

“Ichigo forges a friendship with his Hollow in the Shattered Shaft” AU

vs. Gotei 13 AU: Ichigo time travels back from a future where he was chained to the throne as the next Soul King by the Shinigami.

July 7th, Day 7: Creator’s Choice!

As always, the above prompts are all optional, and you’re free to come with your own ideas. You can also find an excel sheet with all the prompts submitted this year linked up above, so feel free to look through that if you want, and you can also make a copy for yourself.

And that’s it! We’re looking forward to what everyone comes up with!

[cantareincminor]

Fandom Wrapped (Reader Edition) 2024!

Thanks to the wonderful @kattyelf for creating this template! Links and detailed reviews under the cut.

Disclaimer: I probably read hundreds of SxF fics in the past year, and it was not easy to choose which ones to put in the list above (or below)! This fandom is full of wonderful, friendly creators and I am so glad to be part of it. I also had to narrow it down to only the ones I read and reread in 2024, not 2022 or 2023. Finally...I also happened to read many good fics only once. Sometimes a fic is just too painful or sad to reread, especially if it's not finished.

Favorite fic and author: After peace by @unhappy-sometimes!

I could gush about unso for a whole post and not be done, but I will try to contain myself. Her fic After peace originated from an AU comic she drew where Twilight was forced to retire early due a major injury, and drifted aimlessly until WISE asked him to take care of an orphan they had rescued from Project Apple. There are several things that amazed me about this fic and cemented it in first place for 2024:

The premise. It was original and so full of potential.

How personal Twilight's journey felt to me. I didn't have a life-threatening injury, but I did put my career on hiatus in the past year and have often struggled with questions of -- what am I worth when I'm not "doing" anything? I was so used to going 150% in the rat race and coming out on top at great personal cost to health and family; even if all that was bad, how else can I get that sense of accomplishment? How can I stop wanting that sense of accomplishment?

Her style, which is both vivid AND concise. The fic was around 22K words if I remember correctly, with a well-constructed plot, character arcs, plenty of emotional beats, and a satisfying resolution. I often wonder if my writing is too verbose and when I see something like After peace, it challenges me to do better.

THIS WAS UNSO'S FIRST FIC EVER. THE HELL. It's like a freshman album that gets put up for a Grammy.

Fic(s) I reread (plus runners-up):

That Time Yor Seriously Thought About Leaving by peonydee: This is a WIP with one more chapter before completion, I believe. Peonydee's style is unique in how it's hard-hitting and disarming at the same time. Yor and Twilight find themselves in impossible situations, their relationship tested to the limit (and one of them in a close brush with death), yet there's still an undercurrent of wry humor, almost fatalistic due to the fact both of them have been steeped in death and dirty work for decades, yet still hopeful and reaching for each other. I also cackle every time she makes Twilight go off on a mansplaining tangent without ever using the term outright. A masterpiece of show not tell.

Is It Really All Right? by zyzy1083: This one is tender. A jealous!Loid fic with a fascinating portrayal of Loid from Yor's perspective. The imagery of a dark sea choking down any true thought or emotion from breaking for air will stay with me for a long time. There's also the fact she basically made up lyrics for an indie song as part of the plot and I had to ask whether it was a real song. Finally, there's the fact she was bold enough to portray Loid as less than a perfect, kind, smiley husband toward Yor, but in a believable way. He snaps at Yor at times. He loses his patience. It feels like a real relationship, in the awkward tension when one partner wants to talk and the other absolutely does not want to talk. I admire that courage and wish more authors would take that risk (calling myself out I guess!).

Green-eyed Monster by bigbruja: another jealous!Loid fic that's lighthearted and fun. This is a comfort reread. I enjoy seeing Loid recognize the threat of a supposed "old friend" of Yor's, questioning his own feelings and how far he needs to go to fend this guy off. The guy is a Garden assassin, unbeknownst to him. I also love Yor's own inner struggle of just wanting everyone to get along, but showing steel when she needs to.

dalliance by rosetintednerdglasses: this is a WIP, but it is HILARIOUS and I hope everyone will go encourage this author to pick this fic back up when they have a chance. TLDR, Twilight (in disguise) is sent on a joint mission with Thorn Princess and flips out internally when he sees it's Yor. Handler then orders him to ensure Thorn Princess continues to cooperate. So as Twilight, he has to sort-of honey trap Thorn Princess, while as Loid he has to keep Yor happy. Poor Yor believes she's torn between two different men and close to cheating on Loid! Situational hilarity all over the place, and fun world-building, like this other WISE agent randomly named "Steel Bunny" (LOL).

Not According to Plan by @kyrathel: love you girl! This is a gift fic for me, but that's not the reason I reread it (even though it's a WIP as well!). It's SO FUNNY. Twilight gets it in his overly anxious head that he MUST defend his wife from the bullies at City Hall, so what does he do? HE INFILTRATES CITY HALL AS A NEW FEMALE HIRE. The world absolutely needs more petty!Twilight! The latest chapter features laxative brownies. Enough said.

Let's start living dangerously by @beannoss: I specifically reread the later parts when dumb Twilight gets over his dumbness and finally talks to Yor! And they kiss again! I love the way huhwaku (beannoss) portrays overthinking Twilight AND overthinking Yor. And also, the simplicity of Yor at the same time. The voice she uses for both of them is refreshing, it really puts you in the mindset of the character. Yor's giggles ("teehee!") as she teases Twilight about his little perfectionist habits are a cute touch to a gentle, heartwarming fic about these two highly competent professionals just starting to take baby steps in how to be competent at a relationship.

Fic that made me emotional:

100% Perfect by @sometimesiship. Where do I begin? How about with the gut aversion I initially had to the premise of a futuristic AI dating bot AU, due to all the tragic, dark AI movies I have watched? But as it neared completion, someone convinced me to give it a try and I AM SO GLAD I DID. You can see my gushing comments in almost every chapter. The development of the relationship between human Yor and AI Loid is so natural, funny at times, poignant always, and beautifully written, even though from an objective standpoint not much exciting stuff happens (I mean canon-typical excitement like murders and spy missions). Sometimesiship has a way of describing emotion that is so raw -- she can portray the same emotion a dozen different ways with analogies and setups and dialogue and whatever -- and it still doesn't feel old. And the emotion that dominated the second half of the story was grief. Basically the grief of loving someone you know you're going to lose. Like being the spouse of a terminal cancer patient. I didn't cry while reading, but it was a closer call than I have had in a VERY long time. So much beauty and humanity in this story. And spoiler (?), it's a happy ending. So I hope you all go check it out!

That's a wrap! If you read this far, stay tuned for a Writer version of Fandom Wrapped 2024!

[guppybibi]

hai..um heres a wip bcus i realized i have like 10+ wips

Ever since Johnny made what seemed to be an impulsive decision of joining the military, you two have been the talk of the town. “He had the potential to be an artist.” and “He could've been an artist, what happened?” Those were a couple of the various questions asked of you. And if you were truly being honest..You weren't quite sure either. Not once in your years of being together has he ever hinted about signing up for the military.

Nonetheless you continued to support his decision, not doubting him even for a single second. Going long distance when you two have practically been together for who knows how long certainly wasn't the easiest but it looked like everything paid off when you learned that he was the youngest candidate to ever pass SAS selection through a letter, whatever that was..All you knew is that you were proud of him. You wondered why the hell they called him ‘Soap�� though..

Communicating through letters wasn't the worst thing in the world, in fact, it left you with more longing than ever before in your life. Well except the longing progressively watered down when letters from your Johnny stop coming through. Day by day it felt like arrows were being shot at your heart, and you knew for sure that it wasn't Cupid’s doing.

Soon you're hit with a large smack of reality when you receive a message from someone named ‘John Price’ about Johnny being killed on an important mission. You wouldn't say you were surprised but he promised. A promise that he would come back home to you, that the deadly silence in your home would be filled with his voice again. What a fucking liar he was.

The world isn't going to stop spinning just because someone got their heart broken from the news of a loved one dying and is mourning, especially if it's a mere girl from a quaint town. The world is unfair. It's always been like that, it probably won't change until a few centuries later either.

So, moving on seemed easy enough. It really couldn't be that hard right? You've lived half of your life without Johnny, you're sure you can spend the rest without him as well. This is just one challenge life handed you, you could most definitely handle it. Yup, no problem. Cleaning up Johnny’s belongings wasn't heartbreaking whatsoever, and seeing the last bouquet of flowers he sent you slowly wilt over the days was fun.

..Okay maybe it wasn't all that easy. Maybe admitting that you're struggling is fine, though that was just a baby’s first steps. In the end, progress is still progress so you decided that maybe your heart could handle finishing looking through Johnny’s things plus cleaning because you haven't been in that room for months now. Particularly the stuff in his office, well not really office per se, simply a random room where he stored random items for hobbies he says he’ll get to eventually. News flash, he didn't so now you're stuck with all of it.

You started off strong, dusting shelves and sweeping floors, until you opened a drawer full of art supplies and manuals that were basically brand new. Disgruntlement bubbles up within you, all of this wasted space and materials. Charity sounded real good right now but the sentiment they held was too much..Though the handbook about sculpting caught your eye.

It wasn't a hobby Johnny really focused on as it was time consuming and difficult despite his natural talent for art hence why he focused on drawing instead. It simply wasn't his thing, no problem with that. You spent countless hours browsing through the handbook, the guide eating your interest up. Hey, this could've been a great couple pastime for you two! Shame on him for not thinking about suggesting it to you! Although you were lucky enough that he stored the clay in such a way that it didn't dry up just yet, trying it out couldn't possibly hurt, right?

Tossing on an apron, you began sculpting away!..Well an attempt to at least, the piece continued to look..rough after a long while but practice makes perfect! Well as I said earlier, time doesn't stop for anyone, it keeps flying regardless of the fact it doesn't have a destination in mind. That's probably how you ended up practicing for days, so much so that your fellow townsfolk started getting worried sick and sent out one of the kind ladies to check up on you. And it was a lovely surprise!..Because they had a basket of goodies, who can say no to that?

“Oh dear, look at you! Everyone has been worried about you..” The lady says in relief, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face while she looks at the state of your clay-stained clothes. Thank goodness for aprons. “Well I hope you're doing alright after your husband's passing dear, we all made this goodie basket for you!” She chirps, extending the basket out to you. Your eyes immediately lock onto the fresh baked goods, looking like you have something to devour when she turns away..

“So you know, all of us are here to help, you aren't alone in this. I’m off, I need to pick some groceries up at the store. Bye-bye!” She waves, walking along the stone path that led away from your home. A quiet ‘thank you’ falls out of your lips, hoping that she’d heard your appreciation towards her caring but totally unnecessary gesture. You step back, placing the basket aside. The pastries could wait, not this. You do appear to be a natural at this, the sculptures you've made so far aren't even half bad for a beginner..It wouldn't be too hard to make Johnny right? I mean, you know his features by heart, you could make it with your eyes closed. Probably. It doesn’t hurt to try, you have enough clay too so there’s really nothing stopping you.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Dog Unleashed (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Mild Angst? | Established Relationship Word Count: ~11k | AO3 Synopsis: Starting a relationship with the man that had been your best friend since you were a kid was and wasn’t easy in equal parts. It was, because there wasn’t anyone in this world you trusted more than Minho, there wasn’t anyone that made you feel this safe. But sometimes, it just wasn’t. Not only because of the physical distance, but also because of the challenges that posed having a supernatural boyfriend who didn’t like to talk about his equally supernatural problems. [This story is a sort of pt. 2 to Camping with Wolves, and it’s an instalment of my WereRoomies series]. Warnings: pet names (baby, kitten, etc) · a bit of miscommunication (it’ll be fine, i promise) · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut). please let me know if i missed anything !

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: i dedicate this one to my fellow monsterfuckers. this had been sitting in my WIPs for a while, but i finally got some inspo to write about Minho and his kitten, so here it is 🥰 kudos to the anon from this ask for cementing in my brain the idea that minho would text his kitten every morning like he does here. as usual, don’t hesitate to let me know if anything’s phrased weirdly, or to leave your thoughts in the tags/captions/send an ask/etc. y’all know i really appreciate them💜

for those that might not know, a queen is an adult female cat that hasn’t been spayed.

Minho’s WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves · Dog Unleashed · Are You There, Wolf?

Smut Warnings: sexting? (nudes are sent) · an anal plug is used · oral [M&F.Rec] · mouth fucking · fingering [F.Rec] · forced orgasm [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv] · good ol’ rut driven intercourse · creampie · knotting · a barely present breeding kink.

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

You’d always known you were in love with your best friend, although you weren’t quite sure when you fell for him exactly, much less when you realised it.

Maybe it had been the moment you saw him on the brink of death, attached to all those life support devices after he’d been attacked by a werewolf… Or maybe before that, when he started to become the most reliable person in your life… Or, maybe, it was the very first day you met him, when he was placing injured stray kittens in a box to get them to a vet as soon as possible so they wouldn’t die.

Regardless, it didn’t really matter to you when it happened or when you noticed it, all that mattered to you right now was the fact that, after one fateful camping trip to the woods, you had finally been able to confess your feelings. That, even though you had never even entertained the possibility of him wanting you, he actually did. And not only did he want you, he wanted you a lot–for a long time, too.

Minho was your favourite person in this world, and starting a relationship with him seemed to have only heightened that feeling tenfold. He was your biggest supporter, he was always there for you. Even if you lived almost an hour away, you knew that, at any given moment, you’d be able to call him and he’d be there for you. Either on the phone or he’d drive to your place as fast as he legally could. 

The distance hardly ever seemed to matter. Of course you missed him every day–you’d always done so, even when you were just friends–Of course you wished you could go to bed with him next to you every night, but that wasn’t a possibility at this time, so you both made do however you could. 

Your previously monthly schedule to hang out had turned into a weekly one. You both tried to meet up every weekend. Most of the time it was you who drove to his place–to his den–since being surrounded by him and his family was always incredibly comforting to you. It was always much, much better than your cold, borderline sterile flat.

He’d asked you to move in with him several times throughout the years, and you had never really entertained that offer, mostly because of your job–and maybe also because, at the time, your feelings for him were too hard to ignore even with the distance, so living with your best friend who you had deep feelings for simply would’ve made it all so much more difficult.

Now that you were officially A Thing, the offer hung in the air. Minho hadn’t asked again after you got together, but you knew it was on the tip of his tongue every time you both became tangled limbs on his bed. And even though he had not asked yet, you were still thinking about it, wondering what you would answer, and how you’d handle the aftermath of that answer.

If you said yes, you’d have to drop your job and try to find one closer to his place, and honestly, at this time, you weren’t sure you were ready to face the levels of anxiety job hunting always brought you to. But then, saying no wouldn’t have felt right at all, because, ultimately, you wanted to be as close to Minho as you could. You supposed it was for the best that he hadn’t talked to you about it yet, it’d give you more time to figure things out, to mentally prepare yourself.

The sound of your phone vibrating on your nightstand brought you back from your thoughts. You’d been waking up earlier than usual these days, probably because you had a lot of things on your mind, so you had been lying there for around an hour already, waiting for your alarm to go off. 

The vibration wasn’t produced by your alarm, though. It was produced by an incoming message, so you stretched your arm, taking your phone from where it had been charging all night. A smile made its way to your face as you read the preview of a message you already expected to receive, and as you read the contact name your dear boyfriend had decided to add to his number no more than two days after you got together.

You wasted no more time and unlocked your phone to read the whole thread.

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: good morning kitten > did you sleep well? > was i in your dreams?

Minho had always had his own way of being clingy when you were friends. He’d sent messages throughout the day with any and every thought that he wanted to share with you, he’d try to hang out for as long as possible, or he would hug and cuddle you for hours when possible. Now, as your boyfriend, that clinginess had doubled, and you were honestly enjoying the extra attention he was giving you, just as much as you were enjoying his extra need for attention.

< You: Of course you were. < You’re the man of my dreams, after all.

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: 🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀 > 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 > cmon > tell me everything > dont you dare leave any details out

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you moved to your notes app, copying the text you’d written on this morning’s note and pasting it in the conversation with your boyfriend. It was a habit you’d picked up throughout the years, to write your dreams in a journal or your phone as soon as you woke up, so you wouldn’t forget. Minho knew, of course. So if he found out you dreamt something, he wanted to have every single detail.

Once you finally got out of bed that morning–at the protests of Sir Percival, your elderly cat that loved to cuddle you to sleep, a cat Minho himself had rescued when you were little–you started getting ready for your day. It was Thursday, but you were already excited for the weekend since you had taken a compensation day tomorrow, so you’d have three whole days you could potentially spend with your boyfriend. He didn’t know yet, though. Your plan was to surprise him tonight, and you hoped everything worked in your favour.

With a fresh face of makeup, dressed in your most professional outfit, you took the bag you kept ready in your closet, full with clean changes of clothes, pyjamas, underwear, toiletries, and anything you could need for your weekend out of the house. The bag was a bit more stuffed than usual today, all thanks to the other part of the surprise you had prepared.

Shooting your friend–and neighbour–a quick text to confirm she’d be able to take care of Sir Percival during your absence, you finally took your belongings and made your way out of your home, into the elevator, and finally to the basement, where your car was parked. Once you had placed the extra bag in the boot of your car, you opened your messaging app again, searching your conversation with one of Minho’s closest friends, and the alpha of his pack, Chris, so you could send him a text, too. 

Thankfully, it seemed like Chris was awake already, because he replied almost immediately.

< You: Hellooooo, Mr Alpha of the Pack.

> Chris (Minho): hey mrs kitten of my left hand > hows it going

< You: All good, all good.  < I was wondering if it was okay for me to stay over tonight? < And, subsequently, the entire weekend? < I wanna surprise Minho. Please don’t tell him.

> Chris (Minho): of course u can stay over > u dont even need to ask at this point tbh > also consider my mouth sealed shut > welcome back (:

As soon as you knew you could carry out your surprise the day seemed to slow down immensely. Work was just taking too long to be over, the minutes seemed to be lasting a hundred and twenty seconds instead of sixty, and by the time five o’clock rolled in you were already coming out of the office and practically sprinting to your car.

As soon as you sat down on the driver’s seat and secured your seat belt, you checked your phone to see if your boyfriend had answered the message you had sent him earlier in the day. Thankfully, he had just replied.

< You: How’re you doing, baby? < How’s work?

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: hi kitten > on a break rn > but im pissed > people are just so bad at taking care of their furry friends > cuz theres this like huge ass dog that swallowed a ball > a whole ball baby can you believe? > all cuz these people just werent paying attention to him > hes done this before you know? > im gonna have to stay back for a few hours > he needs surgery > and im the only one that can carry him around > so im pissed > sorry for rambling ☹

You did feel bad for Minho, you knew these things usually got to him, especially since he could quite literally understand his furry patients. However, you also felt relieved, because his overtime meant you would be able to sneak into his flat no problem.

< You: Aw, baby, I’m sorry 🙁 < That sucks. < I hope the big baby makes it just fine. < Do you need a pick-me-up?

You had this habit with Minho even before when you were just friends. When your day was rough either of you two would offer a pick-me-up, which previously consisted of sending cute pictures of Sir Percival, or memes, or just videos of cute animals in general. Lately, though, your pick-me-ups had turned a bit more… Intimate.

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: god yea > i could use a pickmeup > you can send whatever you want > anything really > but if it influences your decision > know that im alone in the break room > and that i miss you a lot > a whole lot

You chuckled, amused at just how Minho would take every chance you presented to him. So you went into that private folder in your gallery, searching for the most recent pictures you’d taken, the ones with the new lingerie set that you had yet to use.

< You: [sent a photo] < [sent a photo] < [sent a photo] < [sent a photo]

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: ffffuck me > thats a pickmeup alright > look at you > is that new? > that bras so fucking sheer tf > barely covering your tits > you should bring that tomorrow > so i can rip it off of you

< You: I’ll see what I can do 😇 < Going to start driving now. < Let’s talk later, yeah?

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: alright kitten > drive safe > lmk when youre home

You didn’t have that particular set in your bag today, but you were sure that what you did have would be even better.

Recently, Minho and his pack had added these digital door locks to the doors of their den. You’d always had a spare key to Minho’s flat for emergencies, but now whenever you came here and tapped the exact date of the day you and Minho met made you feel incredibly special, maybe embarrassingly so.

You still remember when Minho told you that was the number combination he had decided to use. He’d presented his cheek to you and asked ‘aren’t I the best boyfriend ever?’ to which you couldn’t help but laugh, kissing his cheek and replying ‘you’re the cutest boyfriend ever’. 

You gave him amazing head an uncountable amount of times that weekend.

As soon as you were inside you settled your belongings in his room, and took your time to freshen up. After around thirty minutes of you being in his flat, Minho had sent you a message whining that he had finally been able to leave work and that he was dying to be home already. So you quickly got yourself ready, after all, the surprise you’d prepared today wasn’t just your presence.

You’d honestly been wanting to try this for a while; you’d been eyeing this entire lingerie set and its added accessories for months, and a couple of weeks ago you finally got the courage to get it. Was it a bit corny? Perhaps. But you knew Minho, and you were certain that the combination of the black top with the cat-shaped cutout in the middle showing where your breasts met, the flimsy panties that could very well be called lacy straps more than anything else, the black stockings with squishy paw pads, the choker with a dangling bell around your neck, the cat ears clipped to your hair, and the plug with the attached black tail inside your ass would make him lose it. Which was exactly what you wanted.

A riled up Minho meant a riled up werewolf boyfriend that’d fuck you silly, and after spending days without seeing him, that was exactly what you were craving tonight.

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you heard the characteristic beep, beep, beeps of the front door’s keypad. They were obnoxiously loud and they seemed to bounce off the walls and shoot right inside of you, making you all giddy. So you got comfortable on Minho’s bed, laying on your stomach, adjusting your tail so it’d rest over your back, and propping your chin on your hands.

Very quickly, the sound of the door closing shut was replaced with the sound of your boyfriend sighing, coupled with an ungraceful thud as you figured Minho dropped his bag by the entrance. And suddenly, everything was quiet.

“No fucking way!” You couldn’t help but smile as you heard your boyfriend’s footsteps grow closer. “Please tell me I’m not fucking hallucinating your scent in my house right now, that’d be so mean…”

As soon as he reached the open bedroom door, he brought a hand to his chest and gasped. The surprise lasted a second, because he immediately crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?”

“Welcome home, Minho”, you gave him a smile, just as you kicked your stocking clad feet in the air.

“Well…” Minho walked to the bed, stopping by the end of it and reaching for one of the cat ears clipped to your hair to flick it softly. “It seems like a kitten has truly made her way into my house, hm?”

You–very shamelessly if you might add–moved your gaze from his eyes to his crotch, seeing the bulge in his trousers grow with every second he looked at you, and it sent a rush of excitement down your spine. Returning your eyes to his, you simply smiled at him again before you rolled onto your back, exposing your stomach to him.

The motion had the plug in your ass moving a bit, and immediately you felt yourself heat up with arousal, especially so as you took notice of Minho’s blown pupils, and his borderline predatory stare.

“I was just missing my wolf boyfriend so bad. Figured I’d pay him a visit. Give him a little surprise”, you dragged your hands down your torso, from your chest, all the way down to squeeze them right between your bent legs.

“Mmm…” Tipping his head to the side a bit, Minho’s eyes fixed for a moment on the exposed skin of your breasts, only to move along to your exposed stomach. “I’d say it’s more than a little surprise”.

“Do you like it, though?”

“Kitten”, Minho’s eyes snapped back to yours. He moved his hand to his crotch, effectively diverting your attention to the movement just as he cupped himself over his trousers. “Look how fucking hard I am. I’m absolutely fucking delighted”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching for his crotch, too, slipping your hand between his and the denim, giving him a hefty squeeze.

“Baby, wait. I have to take a shower”, despite his words, his hips bucked, chasing the warmth of your palm as you pressed it a bit more firmly against his erection. “I’m serious. I’m probably covered in all sorts of animal fluids”.

“You could be covered in my fluids, though”.

“God”, Minho dragged his hands over his face, pulling himself away from you entirely and walking towards the door, making you pout. You knew he was right, he surely needed his shower, but the ache that had steadily been building between your legs as soon as he stepped into the room was just too strong to ignore.

Before he disappeared into the hall, he turned to you again. “Wait for me right there, okay? Just like that. Won’t be long, promise”.

So you giggled, reaching for your phone as soon as he was out of your sight to keep yourself entertained while he was in the bathroom.

The sight of your boyfriend, all flushed from his hot shower, with droplets still travelling down his torso that got caught on the towel he had wrapped around his hips, was, quite honestly, mouth watering. As soon as he was standing at the end of the bed, with a smirk plastered on his pretty face, you just reached for the towel, letting it fall on the floor to find his already hard length.

“And I haven’t even touched you, baby”, you chuckled, licking your lips, looking up at him from where you were lying on the bed, still on your back, right where he left you. Even upside down, you still found Minho to be one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen, and you honestly felt incredibly happy you could be here with him right now.

“You didn’t need to”, he walked closer, placing a hand on your cheek as he looked down at you. “I got so fucking hard just thinking about you being out here while I was in the shower. Now, kitten, come a bit closer to the edge and open up. Hm?”

You just did as asked, letting your head fall over the edge of the bed as your boyfriend took a hold of his length and guided it to your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan as soon as he eased himself inside, just like it didn’t seem like he could hold back the groan that left his lips as soon as your lips wrapped around his cock.

“Mmm… Fuck”, with a deep inhale, Minho threw his head back, starting to rock his hips, fucking your mouth, and the sounds coming out of his mouth, coupled with the feel of him slowly easing into in and out of our throat had you pressing your thighs together.

Minho took his time with you from then on, teasing you, bringing you to the brink of insanity numerous times. He played and toyed with you however he pleased, getting you close to your high with his hands before he slowed down his motions to let it dwindle down, only to do it all over again with his mouth. He did this several times, for a while, until you were desperately begging to be fucked. 

‘Hands and knees, kitten. Ass in the air, just like the queen you are. I’ll fuck you just how you want’, and how could you not comply when your body felt tingly all over? From Minho’s words to the way he held your hips as he plunged his cock into your aching heat, all combined had your senses on overdrive, all thoughts finally flying out the window as soon as he started to pound you to the bed, reducing you to a moaning, borderline pathetic mess.

The force of his thrusts had the bell around your neck tinkling with every harsh smack of his hips against your rear, barely even audible over the sound of your desperate pleas and his blissed grunts. His pace didn’t relent until you were shaking with your release, until he pushed you to the brink of overstimulation chasing his own, until the results of his high painted your back as a drawn out groan came from his lips.

The soaked washcloth on your back made your body jolt. ‘Shh, you scaredy cat. It’s okay’, Minho mumbled as he cleaned you up, offering words of encouragement while he helped you get out of your soiled outfit, removing each item one by one–taking special care with the tail plug to avoid any discomfort, wiping away any remnants of lube or cum off of your body.

As soon as you were completely nude and clean enough, you finally plopped on the bed with a satisfied sigh, feeling incredibly light and content. Minho pulled you into his arms, placing a kiss on your forehead as he hugged you tightly. “Mmm… That was so good, baby. Best girlfriend ever. My dearest kitten, I missed you so much”.

You chuckled, feeling your heart swell in your chest as you cuddled closer to him. “Missed you, too, baby”, you pressed a brief kiss on his chest before you rested your head over his heart, listening to its slightly accelerated pace. “How was your day? How was it with the big baby?”

So Minho started talking, recounting any and every detail he could remember of his work day. You could listen to him speak for hours, honestly. Especially at times like these, when his volume was this low, when his words came out slowly, when he looked this peaceful.

He asked about your day, too, of course. He always did. So you told him, only the details worth telling, not really feeling like thinking about your boring job right now. Minho knew that anyway, he’d always known you hardly ever felt like talking about it, so he never pressed for any extra details unless he got particularly intrigued by something–meaning, unless any possible office gossip was mildly interesting. 

These days, though, there had been something on your mind, so you figured now was as good a time as any to talk about it. “Just out of curiosity…” You mumbled, playing with Minho’s fingers. “When is your rut starting?”

You knew about ruts. You’ve known since Minho’s very first rut when you were still teens, but he never really liked to talk about them. He always seemed to avoid the topic completely whenever you tried to ask him about it before. Most of the knowledge you had on the topic was given to you by Jisung or the other girls at the den, but you wanted to know about your boyfriend’s experience specifically.

“How do you feel about hot dogs for dinner?” Was all Minho replied, immediately untangling his limbs from yours and getting up from the bed. 

You blinked a few times, confused at the sudden question, watching him put on the joggers he kept folded on his nightstand and leave the bedroom entirely. Was he… Was Minho ignoring your question? Why? It was a normal thing to ask, wasn’t it? You were his partner, you assumed you had to know these things.

So you stood up from the bed, making your way to the dresser to fish a fresh pair of panties from your bag to cover yourself, and one of Minho’s oversized t-shirts to pull it over your head. If Minho thought he was going to avoid the subject like he had done all these years he was certainly in for a surprise.

You found your boyfriend walking around his kitchen, getting pots from the oven and ingredients from the fridge. Leaning on the kitchen island, you crossed your arms over your chest, focusing your gaze on him. 

“Do you want one or tw–”

“Why are you changing the subject?” You interrupted him, voice level, looking him right in the eyes. “I know you’ve never liked talking about your ruts, but now that I’m your girlfriend I figured I should be prepared, so I’d like to–”

“Prepared?” Minho was looking at you like you had three heads, like what you were saying made no sense. “You don’t need to be prepared for anything, kitten. Don’t worry about it”, he returned to his task, dismissing you entirely–or at least, you felt like he was dismissing you.

Walking his way, you got between him and the sink, where he was about to place a pot–to fill it with water, you presume. You saw Minho’s Adam’s apple bob, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“Minho. Look at me”.

He sighed, placing the pot next to you on the counter. Turning away from you, Minho brought his hands to his hair, ruffling it and tugging at it.

“Minho–”

“I’m not spending my rut with you”, Minho cut you off, and your eyes widened immediately. “So you don’t have to worry about that”.

You knew from Jisung and the girls that werewolves, especially alphas, preferred to have a companion to get through their rut, and also that, whenever they found themselves going into rut and they had a significant other, they craved said significant other the entire time, which was why his words stung. They pierced your heart, more than you ever thought they would.

“You don’t… Want to spend your rut with me?” You could feel your hands tremble, just as you felt your heart sink to your stomach.

“No”, Minho replied firmly.

You scoffed. The tremble in your hands seemed to increase, not only because you were hurt, but also because, all of a sudden, you were absolutely pissed. “So you don’t want me”, your voice was way too level, cold, scarily so.

“It’s not… It’s not like that”, Minho looked slightly alarmed, shaking his head, and with his eyes wide open. Still, he took a step closer to you, but you moved away.

“What is it, then?”

“I just… Don’t want to”, he swallowed, once again avoiding your eyes. “Can we–Maybe we can talk about this some other time, right now’s not–”

“I want to talk about this now, though. That’s why I asked”, you could feel the lump form in your throat the longer you looked at Minho, the longer he stayed quiet. It went on for a while, a thick, uncomfortable aura settled between you two. You’d never had such an unnerving exchange with Minho, so this was a completely unfamiliar territory. 

Eventually, you just couldn’t take it anymore. “Fine, then. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s alright. I can’t stay here, though”, you walked past him and made your way towards the front door.

“Wait–!” was the last thing you heard Minho say before you slammed the door closed.

You were barefoot, still wearing only his shirt and your underwear. And as soon as you stepped out into the building’s corridor, you felt tears prick your eyes. The trembling in your hands seemed to have doubled, so you decided to go to the closest place you knew you’d be able to find comfort.

“It’s okay… It’s probably not what you’re thinking”, Jisung mumbled, caressing your hair, hugging you tightly against his chest while you cried.

“What else could it be, though?” You said between hiccups. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve probably felt embarrassed to be this emotional over something like this. But this was Jisung, your biggest confidant–second only to Minho in that regard.

Pulling yourself away from his chest, you rubbed the tears away with the back of your hand, feeling furious again. “Don’t you crave your partner when you’re in heat?”

“Yes, of course, but–”

“See?!”

“Listen to me”, Jisung held you by the shoulders, tightly, trying to ground you. “First of all, I’m an omega. The way I feel during my heat is different from the way he might feel during his rut. We’re instinctually different, yeah?”, you nodded, so he continued. “Second of all… Minho, he… He wasn’t born like this, remember? He’s a bit… Peculiar”.

“How so?”

“I can’t really explain it well, you know me… But he just… He’s really good at ignoring his instincts. So maybe… It’s something like that?” Jisung sighed, pulling you back into his chest. “I don’t know, babes. Minho’s a weird wolf”.

“He was a weird human, too”, you mumbled, rubbing your face on his top. “My weirdo…”

“I don’t doubt it”, Jisung chuckled as he kept caressing your hair, and honestly, it was helping you a lot. Even if you were still crying, at least you felt heard.

You both stayed in silence, until eventually Jisung fell back on the sofa with you in his arms, caressing your back or your hair, still trying to soothe you. You appreciated it. It wasn’t really in Jisung’s nature to care for people, but he often did, anyway. Or, at least, he tried his very best. He loved being on the receiving end of cuddles, but he also loved giving them, and he was great at it, too.

After a while, you pulled yourself from his chest, wiping your face with the back of your hand again. “You mind if I stay here tonight?”

“‘Course not. Minho wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I denied you shelter. Even when you’re asking for it because you’re mad at him”, Jisung chuckled, and it made you smile a bit.

You couldn’t help but pinch one of his adorably round cheeks. “You’re like the little brother I never had, you know?”

“I know”, he was positively beaming, and it warmed you up from the inside out. But then you thought about your boyfriend again, and you felt your lower lip wobble. Jisung looked at you, alarmed. You only saw him for a second, because you were burying your face in his chest again, crying again. He just held you tighter, sighing.

It was going to be a long night and you both knew it.

The gentle light filtering through the drapes was hitting your face, warming you up. You stirred awake, turning under the covers to lay on your other side. Even though your mind was still hazy, you still registered the presence in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. You assumed it was Jisung, so you got your hand out of the covers, blindly trying to find him.

“Morning”, you mumbled, finally making contact with his warm upper arm, and you patted him a few times.

“Morning”.

It wasn’t Jisung’s voice that greeted you. It was your boyfriend’s.

Your eyes snapped open. Minho was wearing just some washed out vest top and his grey joggers–the ones that were already too old and thin to wear out, the ones that he just used around the house, and his hair was tousled. Had he just gotten out of bed?

“Here you go. Drink up”, he handed you a glass of water. As soon as you saw the vessel filled almost to the top with liquid you realised just how much your head was throbbing, and how parched your mouth felt. You must’ve cried way more last night than you’d realised.

Sitting up, you stretched your limbs, and a small squeak left your lips with the motion. You took the glass from him, dawning it in one go, all as he just looked at you.

You were both silent for a moment, a long moment of you just looking at the glass in your hand and him looking at you. You could feel his gaze on you the entire time, but you didn’t dare speak first. You honestly didn’t even know what to say.

“It’s not that I don’t want you”, Minho broke the silence first, and he turned his gaze to his lap, where he linked his fingers together, playing with his thumbs. “Please, don’t ever think I don’t want you. You’re the most important person in my life, in this entire world, you know that, right?”

You looked at him for a moment. You still felt hurt, but after your crying session with Jisung last night, and after hydrating some, you realised you might have jumped to conclusions. You knew, of course. You knew you were Minho’s favourite person in this world. Because he always showed that to you.

All these years, Minho had not only told you that, but he had also always shown you how important you were to him. Just as he was to you. So you sighed, placing the glass on the nightstand and shuffling closer to him. “I do know that”.

Taking his hand in yours, you caressed his knuckles with your thumb. “But you do understand where I’m coming from with what I asked you last night, right?”

Minho sighed. “I do…”

He squeezed your hand briefly, only to bring it to his mouth to place a small kiss on the back of it.

“I’m… Scared”, out of all the things Minho could’ve said, those weren’t exactly the words you were expecting to hear, and they really took you by surprise, especially when he said them so quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed by them.

“Scared of what?”

Minho finally looked at your face, cupping your cheek with his free hand, dragging his thumb over the dried tears on your skin. “Baby, when I’m going through my rut not wanting you is exactly the opposite of what actually happens. All these years, every single rut, every single one, all I ever wanted was you”.

You felt yourself flush. “You did?”

“Mm… I’ve always wanted you, but twice a year, for as long as we’ve been friends, it’s heightened tenfold. Why do you think I never wanted to talk to you about my ruts? Do you not remember how I couldn’t look at your face for a month after I got the first one? The thoughts that roam in my head when I’m going through it are just… Filthy”.

“Minho… I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but you already say and do filthy things when we have sex?”

Minho chuckled at that, shaking his head a bit. “I mean, it’s not just what goes through my head… It’s what happens when those thoughts cross my mind”, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he continued talking. “I get so… Violent when I’m going through my rut… I… I’m really scared I’ll hurt you”.

Oh.

That was something you certainly hadn’t considered. But, Minho being violent for real didn’t seem to match him at all. He loved to pretend that he was mean and murderous, but, in reality, that wasn’t your Minho. “How… How violent?”

“I’ve broken beds before”, Minho shrugged. “And dressers. Doors… Many appliances… All by accident, but I did. Kitten, baby, you know I’m also an animal… I really don’t know how I’d react to your presence when I’m seriously feral. I… Don’t want to hurt you. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I did”.

He looked genuinely concerned, like he’d been hurting with this for a long time, and it made your heart feel heavy in your chest. So you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, nodding in understanding. That was when Minho finally leaned in closer, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead, then one on the tip of your nose, one on each cheek, and finally, one on your lips.

“I’m sorry I made you feel unwanted, baby. I should’ve… Communicated it better”, he mumbled the words on your cheek, placing a kiss on your skin again for good measure.

“You should’ve”, you mumbled back, finally looping your arms around his neck to pull him close, just as he hugged your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “But I’m sorry, too. You didn’t want to talk about it, and I pushed it”.

“I forgive you”, he pressed kisses on your neck, slow, tender kisses that had your heart fluttering in your chest and heat settling on your face.

“Me too…” You hugged him tighter, getting lost in his body heat and the feeling of his lips on your skin.

Minho shuffled around, getting under the duvet, and pulling you into his chest. “Let’s not go to bed without settling an argument ever again. Please?”

“Okay”, you mumbled against his chest, enjoying the smell of his fabric softener when you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry…”

“Me too”, he repeated, holding you a bit tighter, pressing a brief kiss to the top of your head.

After a maximum of ten seconds of silence, a couple of loud knocks made you jolt in Minho’s hold.

“You guys want pancakes?”

“Jisung! Were you eavesdropping?!” Minho shouted, making you laugh because of course Jisung was eavesdropping. It was Jisung.

“I won’t answer any accusatory questions without our Pack Mum here!”

You intercepted as you saw Minho was about to engage in possibly the pettiest discussion to ever happen in this flat. “Yes, Jisung! Yes, we want pancakes! Thank you, sweetie, you’re a great friend!”

The sound of Jisung’s footsteps got quieter the further down the hall he went, going towards the kitchen, you presumed. Just as you heard his shout of ‘of course I am!’ 

Minho scoffed, but he pulled you back into his chest. “You’re spoiling him rotten”.

“Technically, he’s yours to care for, Mr Left Hand of the Pack. I’m just the cool step-mum”, you chuckled, angling your head a bit to press kisses on his jaw. “Besides, don’t you want pancakes?”

“I do want pancakes”, Minho grumbled, rubbing his cheek on the top of your head, probably tangling your hair a bit in the process.

You both went silent after that, simply cuddling under the covers and sharing your warmth until Jisung called you to the kitchen for breakfast. You’d admit his pancakes were to die for, and after the rollercoaster of emotions you’d gone through the last handful of hours, you were grateful for the familiarity of a breakfast with Minho and Jisung. They always made you laugh with their antics, something that didn’t seem to change as the years went by–if anything, both of them just seemed to get funnier and weirder with age, and you loved to see it. You just loved them both with your whole heart.

With a stomach full of both sweet and savoury pancakes, with your boyfriend’s warm hand in yours, and a heart full of love, you just made your way back into Minho’s flat. The second you stepped into the threshold he just scooped you in his arms, making you giggle as he pressed kisses on your cheeks, taking you with him to the bathroom.

‘Need to get ready for work, want to shower with me?’ were the last coherent words coming out of Minho’s mouth before you found yourself drenched in lukewarm water, with your back against the cold tiles and his head between your legs, mumbling reassuring words against the skin of your inner thighs as he moved towards his destination.

‘Me not wanting you? Absurd. That’s absurd, kitten. I’ll show you just how much I want you’.

He might’ve been running late after that, but he still placed you on the kitchen counter once you were both dressed and squeaky clean, slotting himself between your legs and kissing you one last time. ‘Later, after work… Wanna take you to the park, to that ice-cream parlour you like. What do you think, kitten? Wanna go on a date with me?’ and, honestly, how could you refuse.

The girls of the pack had become good friends to you, which was quite refreshing. When it came to close friendships, you’d only ever had Minho and Jisung, which, even if you loved them to death, wasn’t the same as having friends that had gone through similar experiences in life–after all, the experience of being A Girl surrounded by supernatural creatures was a whole thing. Sure, you had one close female friend–your neighbour that usually took care of Sir Percival when you were gone–but even if you were comfortable when she was with you, there were things you just couldn’t talk about with her, so having these two girls in your life now was quite comforting.

Getting to sit on Chris’ sofa, with his girlfriend on one side, and Changbin’s girlfriend on the other while drinking a cup of relaxing tea was one of your favourite activities lately. Whenever you dropped by, you’d always try to make some time to hang out with them, and sometimes, like now, you liked to hear their opinions on certain things.

So, as soon as they were both available, and while you waited for Minho to get back from work, you seeked their advice.

The topic of discussion today was your boyfriend’s rut. Since Minho had always been very reserved when it came to giving you details about it, you honestly felt a bit lost, so you hoped the girls could help you understand the situation better. The conversation started after they swore they’d keep the details of what you talked about between you three, just like you always did whenever any of you needed some advice on a very private topic.

“Minho doesn’t really peg me as the violet type”, Chris’ girlfriend said as soon as you finished explaining the situation, looking thoughtful while her fingers tapped the mug in her hand.

“I agree”, Changbin’s girlfriend placed her empty mug on the coffee table, proceeding to turn to you and cross her legs on the sofa. “I’ve dealt with violent alphas before, and I don’t think Minho fits the criteria, to be honest…”

You grimaced a little at her words. You knew her story, how she had run away from an abusive pack with an equally abusive alpha, so you didn’t doubt her judgement, but it all only made you more confused. “Then? Why do you think he’d get violent during his ruts?”

She looked at you for a moment, pondering. After a few more moments, she finally spoke again. “Alphas… When they go through their ruts it’s hard for them to deal with their needs. Do you know if he gets violent when there’s another person involved?”

You shook your head. “As far as I’m aware, there’s never been another person involved”.

“Huh… Maybe that’s his problem”.

“Makes sense to me”, Chris’ girlfriend placed her mug on the coffee table and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the backrest, looking at the ceiling. “When Chris is going through his rut he’s so… Needy. In his own way, of course… I wonder how he dealt with it before we got together”.

As if on cue, the obnoxious beeps of the door’s keypad started to resonate in the flat. The door opened seconds later, followed by a tired groan and a thud–probably produced by Chris dropping his bag on the floor.

Chris came into the living room looking tired as ever, but still with a smile on his face. “Didn’t realise you were having a girl’s night. I would’ve gone straight to Changbin’s”.

As soon as he made it to the sofa he bent at the waist to peck his girlfriend’s lips, making her giggle a bit as she offered him a ‘welcome home’ and a ‘it’s alright, baby. It was an impromptu thing’. 

“Actually, now that you’re here…” You said when Chris finally pulled himself away from his girl and started to take things out of his pockets to place them on the kitchen counter. “Can I ask you a question? A very personal one?”

“Sure”, Chris replied simply, focusing on the items in his hands.

“What’s it like when you’re going through your rut?”

Chris’ face snapped in your direction, looking at you for a second only to turn to his girlfriend right after as a blush started to settle on his cheeks. “Wow, that’s… That’s certainly a personal question…”

“God, you can’t just ask that”, Changbin’s girlfriend laughed next to you. “Let me rephrase what our dear kitten here is curious about… Being more specific, if you went through your rut, and you didn’t have someone to spend it with, how’d you feel?”

“I don’t even want to ask what you guys were talking about before I came here, God…” Chris rounded the kitchen counter, going straight for the sink and opening the tap to wash his hands. “Guess it depends”.

“On?” His girlfriend urged, watching him return from the kitchen after he wiped his hands on a rag.

Chris sat next to his girlfriend, on the armrest of the sofa. “Well… Before I met you, it was okay-ish if I had to spend it on my own. I mean, it still hurt like hell, and I’d be incredibly frustrated the entire time, but I managed just fine”.

“And after?” You asked, although based on what Chris just said, you had a hunch as to what his answer would be.

“If I recall correctly, I went into rut only once after you moved in”, even if he was answering your question, Chris had his full attention on his girl as he said it, but after taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze he finally turned to look at you. “It was probably one of the worst ruts I’ve ever gone through in my life. It just… Hurt so bad. Everything hurt, and nothing I did made it better”.

“Baby, you never told me this”, Chris’ girlfriend placed her free hand on his thigh, pouting and giving him a squeeze, making him chuckle.

“It never came up”, Chris shrugged. “But, yeah… I think I almost broke the bathtub at some point because I was beyond frustrated… I think I could say I was borderline enraged. I honestly don’t know if I would’ve been able to stand another rut like that”.

Chris changed the topic after that. He stayed for a handful of minutes more, until he finally excused himself and made his way to the bathroom. As soon as he was gone, Changbin’s girlfriend placed a hand on your shoulder, whispering a ‘I think you’ve got your answer, then’.

And you also thought you did. After all, if Minho only ever wanted you during his ruts, the most logical conclusion to you was that the reason he got violent was because he simply couldn’t have you, and the rest seemed to agree.

The girls gave you their experience when it came to being with their partner’s while they went into their rut. They gave you pointers, advice, how to prep, all valuable information you were immensely glad to have. And after all that, you honestly didn’t feel as clueless anymore.

After that long weekend at Minho’s den, you never spoke about his rut again. You tried to bring up the topic a couple of times, but Minho still wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet, which you realised was something you simply had to accept. You couldn’t push him to tell you things when he didn’t feel comfortable doing so, and you honestly didn’t want to push him to talk about things that made him uncomfortable, so you offered one last ‘it’s okay, then. Whenever you feel like talking, I’ll be here. Hm?’ which he seemed to be immensely grateful for.

Minho still hadn’t asked you to move in with him again, but, after a couple of months, you realised he’d started to free up some space for you, or he’d add things to his flat for when you came over. All of a sudden, there were two bathrobes in his bathroom, two different sets of towels, all articles of clothing you’d forgotten over the weekend started to appear neatly folded inside a suspiciously empty drawer in his closet, to the point where sometimes you couldn’t find in your flat something you wanted to wear, only to find it that weekend in Minho’s closet or his dresser.

Which was why, at this point, whenever you went to visit you hardly ever took any extra baggage with you. Everything you could possibly ever need was already at his place, so sometimes, whenever you felt like it, you found yourself driving to his den to visit him, just like you were doing today.

You had the day off, so you just made sure Sir Percival had enough food, checked with your neighbour that she could check on him throughout the day, and you went on your way. You wanted to be there before Minho left for work, so you left very early in the morning to surprise him.

However, it seemed like the one that was in for a surprise was you.

As soon as the door of Minho’s flat closed behind you, you were almost winded by how fast everything happened.

Logically, you knew Minho was a supernatural being. He had enhanced senses, as well as enhanced abilities. You didn’t even see him coming, you just felt your back hit the door, the warmth of his body pressed flush against yours, and his panting in your ear.

“What… What are you doing here?” Minho rasped. His entire form was taut, he had his hands planted firmly against the door at either side of you, caging you in place. Immediately, you just knew something wasn’t quite right. How much warmer he felt against your body, the thin sheen of sweat covering his skin…

His rut.

Minho’s rut had started.

And you were here. Probably severely unprepared.

“I’m… I…” You gulped, suddenly feeling light-headed. The girls had told you you could be affected by his pheromones, but until now you hadn’t fully understood just how much. Your heart was racing, your hands trembled slightly at your sides, and heat was quickly pooling in the pit of your stomach.

Minho pressed his nose against your pulse point, inhaling deeply, and the sigh that came out of his lips after had you blushing immediately. “Answer me, kitten”.

“I just… Missed you, and…” You heard his fingers drag by your sides, producing an almost squeak-like sound with the movement because of how sweaty his palms were. 

“Leave”, Minho all but choked on the word. Fuck, you wanted to touch him… You wanted him to touch you, and that need had you pressing your thighs together to try and ease some of the ache that was quickly building between your legs. “Shit, you smell so fucking good, kitten… So–” He moved closer to your neck–if that was even possible–and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you there, but then he was shaking his head, pulling back just the tiniest bit. “Leave now. I won’t… Be able to stay coherent and hold myself back for much longer”.

You licked your lips, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply. “No”.

“Kitten–”

“I won’t leave”, you said firmly.

“Baby… Please–”

“I trust you, Minho”, you turned your head slightly, enough so you were almost whispering in his ear. “I trust you. I want you. Take me–”

In an instant, his mouth was on yours and his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight against his body as your arms looped around his neck. Your whole body seemed to be alight, and the growl that resonated from deep inside of him as soon as his lips were on yours completely drowned your own moan of delight. With a hand holding the back of your head Minho angled you however he pleased, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you as if he were a starved man, as if the moment he stopped you’d vanish.

“You fucking…”

Minho detached himself from you enough to pull your shirt over your head. 

“Come in here…”

Shoving his hands down your joggers, he dropped to his knees and pushed them down along with your underwear. 

“Smelling like…”

Yanking your shoes off and finally pulling your bottoms fully off of you. 

“A proper queen in heat…”

With a tight hold on your hips, he flipped you around, the motion eliciting a moan from your lips. 

“Driving me fucking insane…”

He pulled your hips back, and you pressed your chest to the door, arching your back to give him better access once his hands found your buttcheeks, gripping you tightly and spreading you open. Cold air hit your centre, but that rush of cold was quickly replaced by the warmth of Minho’s tongue licking a fat stripe from your clit all the way up to your ass, making him groan in absolute ecstasy, making you groan in absolute ecstasy.

“My sweet, sweet kitten. All drenched and ready for me, huh?”

You desperately nodded, moaning as soon as his tongue was back on your heat, deliciously licking your clit as his hold on your buttocks tightened ever so slightly. “Just for you–”

“Fuck…” In a second, Minho was back on his feet, pressing his chest to your back, bringing his hands to your front to immediately dip two fingers into your dripping hole, just as he pressed two fingers on your clit with the other, making you tremble in his hold. “Gotta stretch you out, hm? Get you ready for your alpha, yeah?”

“Ye–yeah”, you could barely recognise the sound of your own voice, all your senses were focused on Minho, Minho, Minho, and his fingers inside of you, and his rumbling chest against your back, and his fingers on your clit, and the sound of his voice so incredibly low next to your ear.

Minho was working you up increasingly fast. Your high was approaching at an alarming pace, he shoved another finger into you, pushing them in and out, and the squelching sound was loud enough for you to hear among his rumble and his heavy breathing. You could feel him, hard, leaking fluids all over your ass as he kept working you up, as he kept rubbing your clit faster, thrusting his fingers harder, making your legs tremble.

“Gonna stuff you so full, fuck… I want you so, so bad…” As he eased his fourth finger into you, all you could do was pathetically whine, getting lost in the feel of him in you, around you, and all you wanted was for him to shove his monster cock inside of you, uncaring if he ripped you in half in the process.

“Want you, baby… Need you”, you panted, rolling your hips to stimulate his length where it squished between your bodies.

Minho just pressed himself further against you, snarling in that utterly animalistic fashion a wolf would to stop your movements. He shook his head, speeding his fingers on your clit, eliciting a breathy moan from your lips. “Need to stretch you first, kitten. Need it, hm?”

You just whined in response, pressing your cheek against the cool door, finally submitting completely to your boyfriend. For a brief moment you were reminded of how physically different Minho was to you. He was able to produce sounds no human could, sounds you hardly ever heard from him when he was in his human form, and, coupled with his digits working you up, it was, quite honestly, getting you so incredibly close to your release you started to feel tears prick your eyes.

“Minho, baby–”

Minho’s fingers moved impossibly faster as soon as his name left your lips, and you could feel your essence start to drip between your legs. “Come on, kitten. Give it to me, yeah? Come for me, my love”.

With a few more flicks of his fingers on your already sensitive nub, you finally tipped over the edge, just as a mix of swear words and your boyfriend’s name and many pet names escaped your mouth. Blinding-hot pleasure raked your entire body, making you shake in Minho’s hold.

“That’s it, baby. Good, good kitten. God, you’re just a perfect little thing, aren’t you?”

You could hardly hear Minho over the ringing in your ears. You felt your legs jolt as he kept stimulating your clit, and, very quickly, you realised he had no plans to stop the movement of his hands.

“Min–Minho–”

“Shh, it’s okay. I know you can give me another. Please, please give me another, hm? Need it…”

“Oh, fuck–Minho, fuck–”

His pace didn’t relent until you were coming again, until tears collected in your lower lash line only to finally fall and paint roads on your cheeks. That consecutive high turned your limbs into jelly, it made you slump completely in your boyfriend’s hold once he finally removed his fingers from your core.

“So good, baby. You did well, kitten. So well for me…” He mumbled the words against your hair, letting you catch your breath just for a moment, just until you were able to stand on your feet unaided.

In a swift movement, he turned you around and scooped you into his arms, making you yelp when he pressed you hard against the door. Your legs wrapped around his waist for stability, just as your arms looped around his neck to keep yourself secure–not like Minho seemed to have any plans to let you fall, considering how hard he was holding onto you, how he was practically squishing you against the door as he ravished your mouth.

“Minho… Minho, baby, want you inside”, you whimpered as soon as his lips attached to your neck, sucking harshly on your skin to leave love bites all over. You had just had two earth-shattering orgasms, but you needed more. The desperation you felt to have your boyfriend’s cock inside of you was clinging to you like never before, and as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt his tip at your entrance, drenching you in his slick, mixing it with your own juices.

“Inside, huh? Here? Right here, kitten?” He eased fully into you in one swift motion, deliciously filling you up to your limits, making you throw your head back against the door and moan a string of noises that were akin to his name. “Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck–”

Minho immediately started to ram into you. No build up, just straight up pounding you to his flat’s door as if he’d die otherwise, making it rattle with each thrust. Had you not been so incredibly cock-drunk, you would’ve probably felt slightly embarrassed at the possibility of anyone walking by the corridor and hearing you, but instead, that brief thought only made you clench around your boyfriend’s length, aroused at the idea that everyone would know how good he was making you feel, that everyone knew just who you belonged to.

“So fucking good, shit. Almost feels… As if this cunt… Was made for me”.

You swallowed, feeling yourself clench harder around his length, feeling your tits rub against his chest and your clit against his pubic bone every time he moved. “It was–”

“Yeah, it fucking was”, he was fucking you impossibly harder now, and you were already past the speaking point, your mouth only able to produce unintelligible noises of pleasure as he kept ramming his cock into that sweet spot inside your walls, as he kept stretching you time and time again.

After a while, you started to feel the sting between your legs, and you vaguely registered the whimper that came out of your mouth.

Minho started to lick your cheeks, an oddly tender gesture compared to the way he was borderline rearranging your insides with his supernatural cock. “Shh… Kitten, it’s okay. You’ll take it just fine. I just know it. I’m gonna fill you to the brim, mark your delicious cunt as mine, hm?”

You just nodded in response, unable to say anything else, whimpering and whining and moaning as you quickly felt another release edge close.

Minho seemed absolutely determined to get you to come on his cock, his unrelenting pace seemingly unchanging despite the steady swelling of his knot at the base of his length. It kept catching at your entrance with each thrust, giving you a sensation of pleasurable pain quite like nothing you’d ever felt before.

“C’mon, baby… My precious queen in heat, aren’t you gonna come for your alpha again? Milk my cock so I can stuff you full of my pups?”

With a few more thrusts, you felt heat rushing all throughout your body, dragging an incomparable feeling of ecstasy from your centre to every single one of your limbs, just as Minho’s knot lodged deep inside of you and his lips found yours. The kiss was messy, all uncoordinated movements and bumps of noses as his warmth started to fill you up.

The blissed out noises coming out of his mouth had you holding him even tighter, making him hold you tighter in response. You knew Minho produced more fluids than a human male, but you’d never quite felt this amount coming out of him, it seemed like he was coming for at least a couple of minutes, and his kisses eventually became softer, more tender with every second that passed, almost as if that desperation he had when you came into his flat was finally diminishing.

You felt so impossibly full. Full of his cock, full of his cum, full of his love… Once he stopped coming Minho finally separated his lips from yours, slowly opening his eyes to look at your face. He was panting a bit, but the blinding, satisfied smile that made its way to his lips had your heart almost bursting in your chest.

“Holy… Fuck…” He panted, making you giggle a bit just as you tried to catch your breath as well.

“I agree”, was all you said, pressing a lingering kiss on each of his cheeks.

“Hold on…”

Minho made sure his hold on you was secure before he pulled you both away from the door a bit, enough to find your discarded clothes and push them towards the door with his foot. Slowly, and with admittedly a bit of discomfort, he lowered himself to sit on your clothes and rest his back against the door. You whimpered a bit once he fully lowered your ass to sit on your clothes as well, with your legs slightly bent at either side of him, and your knees against the door, the tug of his knot was a bit sharper than when he was moving before, but it seemed to ease as soon as you were finally settled.

“I’m sorry, baby. This is a horrible position to get tied in”, he caressed your lower back, keeping you as flush to him as he could without having his knot pull on your entrance. You just hummed in response, closing your eyes as you inhaled deeply.

You both were silent for a while, just holding onto each other, catching your breaths. Until you finally had regained enough of your strength to speak.

“Minho, that was…”

“A lot–”

“Hot as fuck”, you spoke at the same time, making you both chuckle. “Was that you being violent? ‘Cause… Damn…”

Minho laughed, a breathy laugh just as he leaned his head back against the door, shaking it from side to side in disbelief. “No, fuck. I was violent when you came in. I was close to breaking the bed in half… Then the smell of your scent hit me and I lost my mind”.

“You held back more than I imagined, I’d admit”, you chuckled, pushing his fringe off of his sweaty forehead.

“I don’t even know how I did it, to be honest”, Minho pecked your lips, and you hummed in content. “Now that I’ve finally had you like this… I see it so clearly. I’ve needed you so bad this entire time. Years, kitten! It’s been years of pure torture…”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I figured as much”.

Minho blinked. “How come?”

“I did some digging”, you shrugged. “And after I just… Connected the dots. But you wouldn’t want to talk about it so I didn’t press you further”.

Minho just scoffed at that. “Alright, smarty pants”.

You squeezed his shoulders in protest. “Hey! Don’t call me smarty pants when I’m stuffed full of your cum while your supernatural cock keeps it all trapped in!”

Minho just laughed at your comment, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest at the sight of his eyes almost disappearing when he smiled.

“Which, by the way, is it always this much? I feel so… Full. Can’t believe it’s all in”.

“Yup”, Minho brought a hand to your cheek, stroking shapes with his thumb. “It’ll diminish eventually, but the first couple of days is a lot. But then again, your cunt was made for me, so of course it can fit it all in”.

You felt heat spread on your face at his words, and suddenly you felt a bit shy under his sparkly eyes. The ache in your legs was lessening a bit, and you realised his knot was starting to deflate, and his seed started to pour out. “Oh, crap. My joggers…”

Minho snorted at that. “Your joggers were ruined the second you stepped into this flat, baby. Don’t worry about them now”.

When your boyfriend’s length finally slipped out of you, he took you in his arms again and carried you to his bedroom, dropping you on his bed for you to rest while he got you some water.

“How many days do your ruts usually last?” You asked Minho once he was back, downing in record time the glass of water he’d handed you.

“Four to five days”, Minho huffed as he dropped himself on his bed next to you. “I’ll warn you now, just based on how I’m feeling right now, I’m confident it’ll be at least five”.

“At least?” Your eyes widened, and Minho chuckled at your expression.

“Didn’t you want to spend my rut with me? Fuck around and find out, babe”.

You scoffed in disbelief, ignoring the urge you suddenly had to rub in his face how you were right, and that you should’ve talked about this earlier. But, instead, you just rolled on top of your boyfriend, planting your lips on his. “Well… Guess I’ll just have to let my alpha take care of me for those five days. Hm?”

Minho licked his lips, and a blush settled on his cheeks. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll make sure to take good care of you”. With how deeply he was kissing you, there was just no room for doubt, he certainly was going to take good care of you, and you were absolutely ready for it.

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© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

Minho’s WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves · Dog Unleashed · Are You There, Wolf?

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Here's another long-winded post about me combing through BG3 early access files in search of Aylin and Isobel tidbits - rummaging that already resulted in this post right here. Let me just say I'm pleased to have brought Aylin Silverblood some attention because, again, I think it's a dope name.

Now, obviously, Isobel and Aylin are both Act 2 characters, and early access only covered Act 1. So anything related to them is partial stuff that wasn't scrubbed from the game files for whatever reason, and a lot of placeholders (these are usually indicated by |the text being in vertical lines|). This all means that sometimes (usually!) there are no nice voice lines indexed by UUID and parseable dialogue trees, and you have to trawl through a giant localisation XML of every bit of text in the game instead. An additional complication is all these stories were in flux, but older bits of writing from deprecated iterations didn't get immediately removed from the files, so it's sometimes hard to tell what belongs to which version.

The biggest luck I've had with regards to these two is the 24/11/2021 version of the game - EA Patch #6 Hotfix #19, aka game version v. 4.1.1.1356845, aka the source of Aylin Silverblood (my beloved). Here's a handy list of the patch and hotfix history, if you're like me and interested in this stuff. I'm actually wrangling files from 5 versions of the game right now, ranging from March 2021 to July 2022 - it's been a fun time. This old datamining post on reddit really helped narrow down the timeframe for me to look into.

Why am I doing this? I genuinely find it fun and interesting! There's some neat writing to be found! I crave more Isobel at all times! And I'm always into WIP and "how the sausage is made" type stuff. Also, tons of cool inspo for fics and headcanons.

Note, because I know that's a popular EA tidbit: this is all from after the Halsin killing Isobel variant was scrapped. This is, in fact, the version where she gets killed and soul trapped by Balthazar, and Aylin gets framed for it.

I'm going to start this off with my favourite part, and that is snippets of an early version of the Aylin/Isobel reunion from 2021. I've done my best to put them in order, but be aware a lot of this is still me speculating.

|[CINE: Nightsong teleports the party to the plaza in front of Last Light. As she looks around trying to familiarize herself, Isobel notices your arrival from the balcony. Her reaction is pure shock, followed by an immediate rush down the stairs.]|

|[CINE: Isobel dashes out of the front of the inn, wide-eyed and out of breath. Nightsong stares at her, stunned.]|

Aylin: |(distant, shocked) Isobel.|

Isobel: |Aylin...|

|[CINE: Nightsong takes an instinctive step towards her but stumbles, collapsing to her knees, eyes blown with pain and disbelief. Isobel closes the distance between them in hasty steps, trying to help Nightsong up, but Nightsong tightly grips at her arms - as if the contact makes everything real.]|

|[CINE: Isobel's eyes fill with tears as she drops down to the ground, throwing her arms around Nightsong's shoulders in a tight embrace. Shaking, almost fearful, Nightsong returns the embrace - the first kind touch she's had in a hundred years.]|

|[CINE: Nightsong draws back from the hug, looking Isobel in the eyes. Isobel helps Nightsong to her feet. As the two of them stand, they keep their hands linked.]|

Aylin: |A hundred years. Isobel, light of my heart, where were you? (choking up) I found your body, I....|

Isobel: |I was dead, Aylin. For so long. It was Balthazar - he trapped my soul, he-|

Player: |[Doesn'tKnowRelationship] You were lovers? Did Ketheric know?|

Aylin: |(jaw tightens) We were lovers. Her father was against it. He saw nothing but future misery. I'm immortal. I would never age, but she would.|

Isobel: |He didn't understand. It doesn't matter when... (fearful, as if worried Aylin's feelings might have changed) ... I still love you so much.|

Aylin: |(her first genuine smile) And I, you. No trial or pain could ever change that. (relaxes a touch) It is why I couldn't leave your body, even when they came. Balthazar and that Sharran witch told your father that I was to blame.|

|And he believed them over you?|

Aylin: |(frowns) He believed what he wanted to believe. Ketheric saw his daughter dead, and he saw someone he wanted to hurt. Shar took that cruel thread, that moment of mortal pain, and used it to corrupt him to the core.|

Aylin: |I was put on trial, and I had no defence. The moment it was over, I was taken down to the temple and... well, you saw what they had done.|

|Isobel presses against Nightsong's side, face tight with worry, running her fingers in slow strokes up and down Nightsong's arm.|

|[CINE: Nightsong tilts her head back towards the player.]|

Aylin: |These heroes saved me. Without them, I'd still be trapped in Balthazar's soul cage, with Ketheric gripping my heart like a leech.|

|[CINE: Isobel's face falls at the mention of her father's name.]|

Isobel: |A *soul cage*? Gods.|

Isobel: |I didn't know. Gods, he didn't say a word to me. I ran away because it was Balthazar that brought me back. As I ran, I heard my father shouting... but I'd seen enough. There was no saving him.|

Aylin: |You are not your father, Isobel. (sad, wry smile) You were the only thing that kept me alive in the dark. When hope began to fade, I simply thought of you.|

Isobel: |[To player] Thank you. (smiles wide) I... I can't possibly thank you enough, for bringing Aylin back to me.|

|Nightsong smiles too, but she's lost looking at Isobel, completely tuning out everyone else around them. Isobel leans in, resting her brow against Nightsong's and closing her eyes, Nightsong's hand clutched to her chest.|

Then, there is an option to press Isobel for details:

|You said the necromancer trapped your soul. Why?| |Was Balthazar the one who killed you, Isobel?|

Isobel: |(hesitant, visibly guilty) I think Aylin would know better than I do. The last thing I remember is a blade in the dark. Too fast to feel pain. Then silence.|

Asking Isobel to go with you to Moonrise was possible at various points, leading to different responses:

Will you come with me to Moonrise? I could use your help. If we're going to stop Ketheric, you have to come with me.

Until there is a way to keep Last Light safe, I cannot leave. All I can do is pray. |Not if everyone is killed at Last Light in my absence. I'll do everything I can to help you from here, but I won't go with you.| |Not if everyone is killed at Last Light in my absence. If someone else could take my place, I would go with you. I swear it.|

|Nightsong is here, she will protect Last Light - let's go to Moonrise, like you promised.| |I want to spend the night with Aylin. Meet me at Moonrise tomorrow.| |Nightsong will protect the people while together we can stop Ketheric.|

Isobel: I... we need to get close to him, don't we? And Aylin can protect Last Light in my absence. Aylin: Isobel, I have just gotten you back. To put yourself in his hands again-

Looks like we would've had a flip of the current Act 2 boss fight, and Isobel would be the ally for the confrontation with Ketheric, not Aylin. Also, that one line right there that is our first indication of Succor™, gotta love it. Sadly, post-reunion I only have:

|TBD: Post Nightsong Reunion.| |How are you and Aylin doing?|

To borrow release version Isobel's stock line: KEEPING VERY WELL, I HOPE? In any case, I'm putting the rest under a cut, featuring options for calling Isobel out on her parentage, Aylin being from Mt. Celestia, and Balthazar being gross - among many other things.

At one point quite early on, Isobel's protection from the shadow curse wasn't a spell, but an ointment:

|Ointment of Selûne| |Ointment Container PLACEHOLDER| |Isobel filled this with precious doses of her sacred Ointment of Selûne.| |First get the ointment from Isobel.| Have you received Isobel's ointment yet? What protection can her ointment offer, exactly? You should see Isobel. If Marcus does crop up, I'd sooner you had her ointment to protect you. Can use that cleric's ointment to get you on your way. But I have to move out - now. Can I get some of your ointment? No more theories! It's time for action. Our secret weapon needs to travel to Moonrise Towers, which means they'll need your ointment. You have the ointment. You have the Gate Stone. Moonrise Towers awaits. Are you sure the ointment will last long enough?

What is now Isobel's Ominous Cough was a gradual weakening that was remarked upon and seemed to be there to create more of a sense of urgency:

I won't claim to know Isobel's craft, but Selûne's light is bright in her. Isobel's tough - though she was tougher at the start. I've rarely seen a cleric so in tune with her goddess, but the curse is taking its toll. The light used to be stronger, Isobel. How much more of this curse can you take? You look paler than death, Isobel. How much more of this curse can you take?

We have some nice concise infodumps on Ketheric:

After Ketheric turned to darkness, the Enclave joined with the Harpers to unseat him and his Sharran cohorts. We marched together, fought together, bled together... and in the end we prevailed.

Only it wasn't the end. Nothing seemed to kill Ketheric himself, so the Harpers decided to seal him in his own tomb, alive. They thought that would be enough. But they hadn't counted on Ketheric unleashing the shadow curse. We watched it drain all light and life away from this place, saw it twist people into abominations. The Harpers lost hope.

Ketheric wove the curse on this land. The moment he was sealed in that tomb, Shar's poison devoured everything in its path.

Fallen paladin. Champion of Shar. He was building an army bent on unholy conquest, but we stopped him. Killed him. Buried him.

It was not enough. General Thorm lives again. He's built a new army, and this time he marches under the banner of the Absolute.

November 2021 is the earliest mention of Aylin I found, mostly marked as not finalised and placeholder dialogue (and that reunion up there). The Nightsong as present in that patch is still very different from what we ended up getting - nobody was killing her, in fact people were coming to get her "kiss", and there was a whole thing where it seems like Shar would directly take control of her and you could help her overcome the curse, or abandon her to it - or kill her. 

Embrace the Nightsong and be sworn to Eternal Shadow.

Anyway, here are her lines (all of these exist as voice files, which is rare for stuff I put in this post - but they're done by a voice actress who doesn't sound like Helen Keeley, our final Aylin VA, so I don't know what to make of it all tbh):

Shar is the Nightsinger, and I am her Nightsong. I am her instrument, transforming the faithful into shadows. I've been here for centuries. Do you know how many priests of Shar came here, full of faith, seeking my kiss? I've been here for centuries. Thousands of Sharrans came here seeking my kiss. I drink their sorrow, their loss, their grief. Then I vomit it back into the world. All of them are shadows now. That is Shar's only reward. But Ketheric returned for my kiss, over and over. You're the first to survive my kiss intact. You're the only one who can help me. Please, you have to help. No one's ever resisted the kiss before. No one has ever resisted my kiss. But you are not merely *one*, are you? That thing in your head must be incredibly powerful to resist a goddess. Perhaps it's also divine in nature. Because a mind can't survive two masters. It breaks us. Shar's attention must be elsewhere. Speak quickly. She's watching now. She's waiting to steal my voice. But it won't last. Please - listen! I was captured by Ketheric Thorm, Shar's chosen. He turned me into this creature. I'm a slave of Shar. She owns me, just like that thing in your head owns you. I want to sing my own song. Not Shar's. Not *Ketheric's*. Find Ketheric. Kill him so I can be free! Slay Ketheric. His wretched existence binds me to this temple. Oh. That made her angry. The Lady returns! She has me again! *Again!* Stop! You've driven her away!

I am not your *spectacle*. Turn away before I strike you blind. Tell them to come and receive my kiss.

Some possible relevant tags, interactions, and outcomes include:

|The soul cage has greatly weakened Nightsong| |Debug: click to save Nightsong (sets the flag to talk to Isobel)| |We sided with Ketheric and doomed Nightsong.| |Companion comment!||But if his power is linked to this Nightsong, there must be a way to unlink it.| |You have taken control of Ketheric's Soul Cage| |You are bound to Ketheric's soul cage, taking his regenerative powers for yourself| |Bound to Soul Cage| |Soul Cage Key| |Soul Cage Research| |The book details the necromancer's research on the soul cage| |There is a glimpse of Isobel's ghost, as she takes her Father with her to the afterlife.| |There is a glimpse of Isobel's ghost terrified and in agony. Both Isobel and Ketheric will disappear.|

At one point Isobel delivers her own, Ketheric's, and Aylin's backstory as "a story", but sadly I can find very little of it, just disjointed fragments:

You seem to know a lot about Ketheric. He was a devout Selûnite who converted to Shar. They say it was Ketheric's purity that drew an angel down from Celestia. You're Isobel Thorm. The daughter who died in that story.

And there seem to be many options to question Isobel about her hiding the truth about her father:

Why are you lying to me, Isobel? Everyone thinks you're dead, Isobel. Tell me the truth, Isobel. Everything. Still, Isobel might have saved us some time had she been honest from the beginning. |Why didn't you tell me what happened from the start, Isobel?|

Ketheric. Don't you mean your father? Ketheric is your father. I know the truth. Ketheric told me at Moonrise. He wants me to bring you home. I need your father to trust me. He wants you back. You sent me after your father - Ketheric. I think we should discuss Ketheric - your father - first. For all you've said about Ketheric, you left out the part where he's your father.

To which I've found some responses:

And would you have trusted her? Ketheric's daughter? Why didn't I tell you that I was murdered, that my soul was locked away for a hundred years? What would I have told her? That my father murdered her fellow Harpers, but that I can surely be trusted?

[Attempt to read Isobel's thoughts.] *You see Ketheric standing before Isobel, although the memory is hazy. His words are unclear, but his tone is not - he is pleading with her.*

Brought back by the same man that killed me. Balthazar. Standing next to my father with a smile on his face.

But I'm not sure it would have mattered. To stand with that man, my father has surrendered to deepest evil.

I would love to know what the whole pleading thing is about, and what Isobel "didn't know" that she claims didn't matter anyway.

My father. After a century, he somehow brought me back. But I saw the monster he had become. I couldn't bear it... I ran. I ran until I found Last Light. It was like a second home to me, once. I've been studying the curse ever since, searching for answers. Trying to restore the damage my father has wrought upon this land. It's possible I may have to sacrifice myself. But this is my father's crime.

And then, there is this nugget I cannot place but that I like: 

|Your father's due will come.|

There is also an option to tell her Nightsong is Aylin (who was, at this point, a full celestial - no mention of being connected to Selûne, though, and in fact, if she was indeed from Mount Celestia as mentioned in the "story", she would not have been):

Isobel: My father's curse still blackens this earth. Have you found anything? Player: A celestial, chained to Ketheric's soul. Player: They called her Nightsong, but she told me her name was Aylin. Isobel: Aylin. She... she's alive. I knew she had to be, I… Player: Ketheric's necromancer took her to Moonrise. Isobel: His necromancer? Gods, you have to free her. Isobel: You have to go to Moonrise and free Aylin. When Ketheric is weak, this can all be over. Isobel: The truth is that I would give anything to see her again, and anything to stop my father. Free her, and you do both. Isobel: At least, the shell of my father. There's nothing left of the man that championed Selûne. Isobel: Find her. Free her. If Ketheric isn't stopped, all of us are doomed.

Player: |[Doesn'tKnowName] Aylin? Care to explain?| Isobel: The angel in my story about Ketheric. That was Aylin.

Speaking of Balthazar. Some lines from him:

[Introductory note: please imagine everything Balthazar says spoken with a wheezy voice, as if he's permanently out of breath.]

[I need to retrieve the Nightsong, but the temple is haunted and my minions cannot make it past the trial grounds. I cannot go there until the ghosts have been dealt with. Now that you are here on behalf of Ketheric, you will do all this for me.]

I, Fodder, am here on behalf of General Ketheric Thorm. Down in the depths of this temple writhes his desire. I am to bring it to him.

I created the Nightsong for General Ketheric, many moons... HEAR THAT SHAR? Many moons ago.

*As you hold the necromancer's mocking gaze, you can tell how it starts to dawn on him you are not the mere minion he thought you were.*

Along the way I found some more recent Patch 8 (2022-ish) gross Balthazar lines, some bits of which have actually survived to release:

She was a unique specimen even before I began my work. Aasimar. A god's blood united with mortal flesh.

Such fine clay she was. We grew quite close as I… remoulded her. Now she is General Thorm's shield. Her strength is his to drink upon. His pains are hers to bear.

If I never exceed her, I will still die happy. If I ever do something as gauche as truly dying, that is.

Utterly revolting! Makes my skin crawl! Man deserves a yeeting into the Shadowfell a hundred times over! But in order to not end on a gross note, I leave you with:

Ketheric Thorm. Murderer. Oathbreaker.

Aylin Silverblood. My true name. Nightsong was only ever a curse.

[viperwhispered]

I just wanna take a moment to say thank you for always being around to chat since I don't have many to talk to about TWST. I also suck at characterization so I don't write many fics. But I was very happy when you used one of our discussions for Revel in You. I don't mind if you use our convos to write, just be sure to credit the source.

On that note: saw your smut posts. Here's an idea: Jamil celebrating his promotion to being a Housewarden.

It's Friday, there's an enormous party going on to celebrate Jamil and Kalim's new roles and the successes of the first month with this new dynamic. While Jamil is more accustomed to the spotlight, he still gets "tired out" and leaves it to Kalim to keep the party going and organize the clean up crew. After all, he's due for a more private celebration of his own.

Fun fact: for a good chunk of snake species, the male will bite the females neck to hold them down while mating.

Imagine Jamil relentlessly taking his beloved from behind, deciding they're wriggling a bit too much. Delighting in the sounds they make as he pulls them towards him by the hair, he just bites the back of their neck as his body pins them to the bed. They'll probably be annoyed by morning, but Jamil's already got some concealers beforehand.

Did I forget to mention it's a Friday, Jamil no longer has roomates, and pretty much the entire dorm is still partying to loud music several hallways away?

Also worth mentioning that, as a healthy mature couple, all of Jamil's jealousy and possessiveness is addressed in a healthy manner so the relationship never turns toxic. This statement does not apply to the bedroom.

Aww thank you, always happy to talk with you too 😊 Plus like, if you’d rather talk over messages sometime in addition to the asks, feel free. (And this applies to anyone else reading this post too.)

Yeah iirc I was thinking a bit if I should ask you about using that ask as a jumping off point for To Revel in You, but I figured I was using it more as inspiration rather than rewriting anything you wrote or anything like that. And that since you sent that ask in the first place, I did kinda assume it would be okay to build off it. But good to hear I wasn’t wrong in thinking so, and glad you liked it.

As for characterization & writing: it really is a matter of practice, I’d say. Plus, like, everyone is bound to interpret the characters in a different way, or focus on different aspects of them. Which can be freeing, in a way, knowing that you can bring to the table something that no one else can, certainly not in the same exact way you would.

Also I was actually thinking of asking for some writing prompts since the current wip seems to need a bit more time to marinate, and here you are with perfect timing.

So let’s see what I can do with this concept.

If it wasn’t obvious: smut ahead. Written with fem / afab reader in mind but I think this could be read gender neutral as well since the only specific body detail mentioned is that reader has hair long enough for Jamil to grab.

The day - and the week, and the month - had been such a whirlwind that even Jamil had had trouble keeping up with it all.

Tonight, Jamil had basked in the praises from his dormmates, their congratulations and glowing words - and noted the cautious looks of those who still had not forgotten the events of his overblot.

He had enjoyed food that was not made by him, watched others fuss over the preparations and the serving - well, as much as he had been able to keep himself from giving direction. Still, even he had not been able to oversee every single detail, as much as he wanted to.

After all, both you and Kalim had been quite insistent, in your own ways, that this celebration should be for him, not by him.

So Jamil had danced, eaten, drank, listened, talked, so much so that now when the night was beginning to turn towards morning, he had more than had his fill.

Besides, tired as he may be of the crowd, there was still something on his agenda that he was more than happy to indulge in.

You had been teasing him with promises of a more private celebration - starting from when the party was decided on all the way to when you had been dancing together earlier - and Jamil intended to finally collect his reward.

You were outside for a moment of fresh air and quiet when Jamil found you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nipping your ear.

“I remember someone promising to be mine tonight,” he murmured, voice low and husky.

You shivered, feeling Jamil’s lips on your neck. You’d half expected him to be too tired to turn your teasing into action. Yet, you certainly welcomed this turn of events, your own tiredness washed away by Jamil’s eager touch and his tempting whispers.

“You know me. Always love - ahhh - spoiling you,” you said - your words turning into a gasp when Jamil licked the side of your neck.

In no time at all you found yourself in Jamil’s room - as easy as it was to be distracted by each other, you both still preferred the privacy over lingering in the common areas of the dorm.

Jamil’s mouth was hungry on yours, his hands working quickly to rid you of your clothes.

Sometimes you wondered just how much Jamil was holding back in the presence of others, for him to get so ravenous as soon as you two were alone.

Not that you were any different, pulling away that long belt from Jamil’s hips so that you could slip your hands under his shirt, your lips covering every available bit of his skin with kisses.

It was always delicious, your naked bodies tangled together. That heady feeling of each other, both of you grasping and kissing wherever you could, like you could never quite feel enough of the other.

“So what would mister housewarden ask of me tonight?” you asked with a playful grin, nuzzling your nose against Jamil’s.

There was undeniable hunger in the way Jamil looked at you, yet also the warmth and softness of your lover that always filled your heart to the brim.

“Just all of you, albi,” Jamil murmured, pushing you down onto the mattress.

You’d entertained ideas of a celebratory blowjob, of taking care of Jamil tonight. But if he’d rather help himself to you, you were certainly not going to say no.

A few orgasms later and Jamil was pounding into you, firmly holding onto your hips while your face was pressed onto the sheets. His cock was invading your insides so hard, so deep, leaving you nearly senseless. You jolted helplessly every time Jamil slammed his way all the way in, the pleasure bordering on pain as it shot through your nerves.

“Ahhh, Jamil…” you whimpered, barely aware of the spot of drool you’d left on the bed.

“Too much?” Jamil muttered, one of his hands leaving your side to instead trail a soothing path along your spine.

“...No.”

It was a lot, your senses nearly overtaken by the intensity of it all - yet you didn’t want anything less.

Still, you couldn’t help squirming, your body twitching with every thrust, yelps and moans pushed from your throat no matter how much you tried to hold them in.

“Hold still,” Jamil grunted. 

He gathered your hair in his hand, making you gasp when he tugged. You could feel the pull on your scalp, almost like Jamil wanted to rein you in - or pull your face away from the sheets so that he could hear your cries more clearly.

“You’re all mine tonight, aren’t you? Mine to have, mine to enjoy,” Jamil breathed to your ear.

“Yes, yes, yes…” you whined, aroused beyond belief.

Always his, just as he is yours - but you had no time to vocalize that thought before Jamil’s weight pushed you prone on the bed.

Your gasp was cut short, turned into a sharp cry when you felt moist pressure at the back of your neck - a bite, you realized, some instinct telling you to keep still.

Not that you had much of a choice in the matter. Jamil’s hand, still gripping your hair. His mouth, latched onto your skin. His body, holding you down.

The weight of him against your back was almost suffocating, yet in a delicious way. Like you could be closer to him like this, more connected than just skin to skin contact - or penetration - could provide.

You could feel the rolling of Jamil’s hips against your backside, the way his cock was dragging along your insides. Not as harshly as before, yet intense enough to keep you trembling and whining with the little breath you could take.

And Jamil’s mouth, his teeth, never letting go. His muffled groans such a delicious sound, making you clench around him.

Such sweet torture, and you never wanted it to end.

Taglist since this turned into fic: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @perilous-pasta @twstgo @cannedpickledpeaches

[avonne-writes]

Reading Weekend Reviews

As I mentioned before, I spent most of my free time this weekend reading instead of writing because I wasn’t feeling well. The stories I had a chance to read were all amazing and they made me feel better!

The stories discussed in this post: meet me at the chapel, Learning Curve (ch 1), if it feels like love (then it must be love) (ch 1-2), i feel so high school. (ch 1-2)

1. meet me at the chapel by @swifty-fox

90s outlaws au, part of a series (I only read the first part so far, but can’t wait to continue!)

This was such a wild and raw ride. It leaves you with the illusion of the wind whipping through your hair, a dusty road ahead of you, and the sunset burning your cheeks as you chase a sense of freedom you long for. It’s sad, funny and sexy at the same time.

John is written as roguishly handsome, a characterization I really enjoy. He has an edge, but he’s warm, caring and flirtatious, charming even as an outlaw.

Gale is wounded and beautiful. He has a really sad background, and you keep rooting for him to find love and peace, and it's easy to sympathize with the fact that he feels safer being an outlaw and living homeless than locked into a life of hopelessness and abuse.

As usual, @swifty-fox does an amazing job immersing us in the atmosphere of the story. Every little detail contributes to the lasting impression that this fic leaves. I know I'll be thinking about it for a while.

2. Learning Curve (WIP, 3k) by @hogans-heroes

This is a new canon au WIP that describes life in the stalag from Alex Jefferson's POV.

First of all, I think the POV is brilliant! I love how fleshed out Alex’s character is in the first chapter already, and how his narration allows us to get to know Macon and Daniels more too. In addition, looking at John and Gale from an outsider POV is always fun and interesting. Oh, and the hints of DeMarco x Macon got me excited!

The first chapter sets up an intriguing conflict between John and Gale, and poor Gale is not doing too well (a feast for those who like Gale whump). I think all the characterizations are spot on, with Gale being quietly self-sacrificing and Bucky falling apart at the seams, belligerent like a caged dog.

The writing is in a delicate style that guides you gently through the story until (I expect in later chapters) you suddenly find yourself crying for the boys. With only one chapter in, it has a great set-up already, so I look forward to the upcoming updates!

3. if it feels like love (then it must be love) (WIP, 75k) by @ranger-elizabeth

This story is set in a modern au where Gale is a freshman at college and John is his RA. It’s almost finished (10/11 chapters), but I only had time to read the first two chapters (for now). This is the kind of work that steals your sleep because you can’t put it down, so be careful if you start reading this late at night!

The first chapter plunges you immediately into that familiar college atmosphere. It reminded me of my own struggle dragging two suitcases through the country without help. Gale's anxiety about fitting in, making connections and the loneliness he feels are all very relatable. It made my heart ache. I love this boy.

I really enjoyed the POV switch between John and Gale. Already after the first two chapters, I felt that it added to the fic and made it even more engaging. I love the side characters too, they’re well-written and entertaining.

I think it was interesting that Gale started out struggling academically. It made a lot of sense in his situation, and it made his character's struggles realistic with actual impact. Gale's perfectionistic thoughts sounded just like me. 😭

Gale's complicated relationship with his parents is painful, and his parents' behaviour makes you want to slap them. I liked the way this relationship was explored on-screen as well, not just referred to as a past situation.

John is really sweet, warm and cheerful, his character brightened my mood every time he appeared.

I'm only two chapters in, but I look forward to the rest!

4. i feel so high school. (WIP, 10k) by @anachilles

Physics teacher!Gale x Football Coach!John high school au. Two chapters out so far.

This fic is shaping up to be a real comfort read to me, because it's written with such amazing humour that it made me smile and snicker several times. The first two chapters have been lighthearted but also contained an interesting conflict between John and Gale, a falling out in their past.

One of my favourite things so far is how their dynamic is written. It shows perfectly how these two click, even after not staying in touch for a long time. I loved strict teacher Gale and fun coach John 😄 Another highlight is Scout (John's dog), I can’t wait to see more of her!

A detail that caught my interest about John is that he’s the first one in his family with college education. I'm curious if we see a bit more about how this might effect him. I'm also curious about his family's religiousness.

I loved the complex relationship between John and Gale, and that there are a lot of things unsaid between them while John is still clearly obsessed with Gale. It’s so endearing and very in character for him.

The second chapter left me aching for John to reconcile fully with Gale, so I'm excited to read what's coming next!

~♡~

I'm a bit sad that I haven't had time to read more, but I will read the remaining chapters of all of the WIPs in this list, they all got me hooked. I also plan to continue with this review series. Next on my list are That Ol' Devil Called Love, To the Moon and Back, yours always and understanding in a plane crash.

I can’t wait to continue exploring all the amazing fics in the fandom! ❤️

[laurenkmyers]

i was gonna ask for some fic recs for hyunchan fanfics :'(. but ao3 is down.

AO3 IS BACK, BABY! And boy do I have some fic rec's for you:

Starting off with my absolute FAVE (it's currently a 91k word WIP, the author is SO GOOD and I'm having so much fun with this fic- but just bare in mind its *very dark.* Please please please read the tags.

But if the tags don't scare you, then you're in for a real treat.

Nothing But An Echo by sshhad0w (WIP)

“Getting rusty, hyung.” Hyunjin smirked as he flicked the knife between his fingers, tilting his head with a pout. He couldn’t snap the switchblade back to its open position before Chan had his hand around his neck. Hyunjin’s head slammed into the door and Chan’s fingers tightened as he stepped into the space, his chest rising and falling with calculated calm. Hyunjin just laughed, rolling his shoulders against the restraint. Finally. OR: SKZ are mercs-for-hire and Hyunjin loves the fact he dances so intimately with death for his day job.

we hide the fact that we want to touch by totoroism

Hwang Hyunjin was unshakable. He knew that some friendships were meant to stay as friendships, no matter how badly one party wanted to grab the other and kiss him and confess his love of several years. He was fine. He'd come to terms with it a long time ago that him and Bang Chan were never going to be the couple he wanted them to be, and he was fine. Until he wasn't. - OR: The one where Hyunjin has been pining over Chan This Entire Time, but maybe it's not as hopeless as he's thought. (This is one of my absolute faves)

a song of salt and goldwater (the series) by pacw0man

Hyunjin, the son of a noble, escapes from his home in order to fulfill his dream and promise to his late mother: to draw a map of all the seas. In his haste, however, he lands on the Levanter, the ship for the famous pirate crew the Strays, whose captain, Chan Bang "Silver Eye" he undeniably feels an attraction to, and who deeply intrigues him. (I fucking *adore* this pirates!au, holy shit.)

invisible by endlesswaltz8

Chan has been on alpha hormonal suppressants since he was twelve. None of the members had ever caught so much as a whiff of his alpha scent until a global medication shortage occurs. Hyunjin's reaction isn't quite what he had expected. (This omegaverse!hyunchan slaps.)

bluebird, bluebird by straycty

Hyunjin is a courier from Meridia, the wealthiest city in the RES. His mission is simple: deliver classified documents to the Medical Institute of Concord, then return for new orders. Shit doesn't exactly go as planned. (fucking loved this fic)

i can't cast shadows like you by sshhad0w (same author as the top fic)

Hyunjin tapped his ash onto the patio and tilted his head as he squinted. “Do I know you?” “Not yet,” Chan said, and this time his smile dropped on one side into a smirk. “Are you hitting on me?” Chan let out a huge laugh, the type that made his eyes crinkle in on themselves and almost split his face in two with how wide his grin was, and he threw his head back so that the chains around his neck moved and rippled across his throat. Hyunjin squinted even harder. “Not yet,” he repeated. OR: Hyunjin is an artist fuelled by self-hatred who can't pick up on social cues, and Chan is obsessed with his voice. (this fic is sooooo fucking good)

I Want You To, I Want you Too by sevenbyseven

But of all the scenarios that had plagued him for hours, nothing prepared him for the words that come out of Hyujin's mouth. Chan slowly swivels around in his chair to blink at him. The sleep deprivation must be getting to him; he couldn't have possibly heard right. "What?" Hyunjin licks his lips and repeats, "I want you to choke me."

with mercy you cradle my throat by littleredchain

It’s not the first time Hyunjin has gotten a bit of an erection while being choked. It’s not even the first time it’s happened while being choked by Channi-hyung specifically. It is the first time that the other boy has gotten a bit of one as well. OR The author's obligatory Red Lights fic

red looks like love on you by raethye

Hyunjin’s sexual appetites wax and wane with the lunar cycle, and Chan knows—these days around the full moon? Hyunjin is practically in heat, desperate for dick. According to him, he always wants sex. It’s simply his nature. But on these days, Hyunjin needs it.

make me feel your love by frostednapkin

Hyunjin has been holding a candle for Chan since Red Lights. And then, they start writing Taste.

tear the petals off of you by hynchns

“Am I?” Hyunjin’s voice cuts through the darkness, something much more fragile than the teasing tone he had before. “What?” Chan feels him leave his space just enough to prop himself up on one hand, staring right down at him. He can’t make out much in the darkness besides Hyunjin’s silhouette and the faint lines of his face; even that much he finds stunning. “Am I yours?” (i think about this ficlet a lot.)

drip feed by sentimental_halos

Hyunjin. Bang Chan. Figuring out each other, themselves, and everything else along the way. (this fic is a WIP, but i'm fucking obsessed with it)

run the table by orphan acount

Contrary to Chan’s belief, his thing for Hyunjin doesn’t go unnoticed. Non-famous AU.

until the moon falls asleep by inkin_brushes

“Everything okay?” Changbin asked, voice rough with sleep but still concerned, rather than angry. “Uhm, I— yeah? I uh.” Chan licked his lips, nervous and feeling silly, stupid. “There’s a vampire in my closet.” There were a few beats of silence, on the other end of the line, nothing but the faint staticky crackle of the connection. “There’s a what in your where?” Changbin finally asked. vampire/werewolf au.

a night at your belonging by mecala

Hyunjin should be used to it at this point. It’s been almost a week of looking through his window and finding the guy there, in his apartment, naked. Always naked. Okay, not always, but enough times that Hyunjin should be used to it already. He isn’t. And he knows he shouldn’t be looking, but he doesn’t even feel guilty about any of it. It’s just such a nice distraction to fantasize about the hot guy during work, then look at him–just for a bit–when he’s home.

the creation of bang chan by seathehorizon

Hyunjin is an art student who is holding an exhibition of dick paintings dedicated to his hook-ups, but as he's preparing for it, there's one painting that just doesn't look right. So, for the first time, he asks a hook-up out for a second time so he can fix it - and doesn't exactly regret it in the end.

focus on me by stray_lilly

Chan is Minho's regular client. But when Minho isn't there, Hyunjin takes full advantage of the situation and sets out to replace him. stripper!au

addicted to your touch by goopeculiar

As flattered as Chan is to be propositioned like this, there are just two major problems: one, having sex with Hyunjin in front of a live audience seems kind of daunting. Two, having sex with Hyunjin at all seems kind of daunting on account of the planet-sized fucking crush Chan has on him.

[thcscus]

fic author q&a <3

tagged (kinda but i wanted to join bc it looked fun lol) by @zannolin the beloved

why do you write fanfic?

because it's so so so much fun. because i think about the characters too much to just not Do anything with them, you know?

but mostly, it's a case of, "I'm writing this because I want to read this."

which of your posted stories do you think of the most even though the story is "finished"?

i mean, technically, passerine because I have a copy of it sitting above my study desk so every time I look up I think "oh damn yeah i wrote that. insane"

but, creatively, i think about the challengers series a lot because i feel like i have one more story out of me for it but i just don't know What yet

if you could give yourself fic advice from when you first started writing fic, what would that advice be?

hmmmm i don't think i have any because my relationship with fic writing now is the same as my relationship to fic writing then. it's all just fun :)

what's your relationship to fic stats?

eh i don't really care about them. i generally don't look at kudos and hits. but comments and the little notes people put on bookmarks? now Those i will refresh for every time

is there a pairing or scenario or friendship that you miss writing? if so, why? if not, why not?

how do i answer this without kicking at a hornet's nest. i guess if you know, you know. That Era really was a great time to be alive as a genfic writer. unfortunately, *waves vaguely*

what motivates you to write?

the fact that when you finish writing, you get to read it. and it's tailor-made for you, with everything you want from a fic, because YOU put it all there!! it's like serving yourself a plate of eggs done just how you like them

also, i look forward to comments every time just to know i'm not the only one going insane over it lol

why do you write for the fandom(s) you write for?

no other reason than i want to, i guess. i love the story. i want to expand on it. and that's how the insanity starts, baby

if you're stuck writing a WIP, what do you do?

just put it down. inspiration will find me eventually. i'm not in any rush :)

what do you wish people knew about comments?

when you quote the exact lines that made you feel something. THAT. that could be your entire comment and i'd still be twirling my feet kicking my hair. genuinely when people quote my lines in their comments AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA <- me going crazy

maybe there's a question you wish had been on here. what's that question (and answer)?

The line you're most proud of.

"... to be able to love something enough to also love what grew from its ruins," is still so beloved by me because it was genuinely something i'd felt in my personal life for so long but could only put into words when i was writing it for the fic. it was a lightning bolt of an epiphany that wouldn't have been possible if i hadn't been writing. writing fic saves lives, folks!

tagging literally anyone who sees this because i want to pick at everyone's brain

[ofmermaidstories]

Bad day for nosy people who need to know what old fandom is 👀👀

lmao, i’m trying to talk myself out of it so that i don’t turn my current WIP list upside down on itself but. 🥹 i fear it has very powerful claws. 🦞 i’ve been mulling over like, why it ([Old Fandom]) is so attractive to me right now and i think it’s a combination of a few things!! like, one is the fact that i never originally left it by choice—real life kinda forced me away from my hobbies, and by the time i could circle back again, the fandom had died (i find it really interesting that so many modern fandoms don’t have staying power, but that’s a different discussion) and i was interested in different things. but now it’s seeing a revival and i’m remembering how much i loved it and how i never really… got closure for it, LOL, as silly as that sounds. 🥹 i never finished any of my ideas. 🥺 i went back into my old account actually, like a couple of weeks ago, and went through my fic drafts i had at the time and it—idk. i guess it just made me nostalgic. 🥹 it’s different, tonally, to what we do here in the bnha/x reader niche!! and it makes me itchy. 🥹😩 god!! so itchy. i wanna dig my fingers into it and move things around. dig it up from the garden. perform necromancy on the lover that doesn’t even know they’re dead, and blinks and finds themselves sitting in the same old kitchen with a cup of coffee in their hand. 🥹🥹🥹 i’m better equipped now—i know how to keep myself interested in long-term projects, how to finish them and, most importantly, what i like.

there’s a lot of stuff i like to write that i just don’t, here in our niche. either because it doesn’t fit in with the bnha world or just doesn’t like… suit the x reader POV. and that’s on me LOL, a better (or maybe more determined) writer could make all those things work, but part of what i like about bnha and x reader and [old fandom] is that they’re distinct—they all feel different. i wrote a lot before i got here!! i wrote so much. i wrote so much that i like, kinda burnt myself out on it LMAOO. there were tropes i liked and settings and tricks i used all the time that after a while they got boring to me. 🥹 and now after a million years of doing something different, i’ve realised—oh. i really liked all that. 🥹 i really like it, still.

idk!! idk. part of not naming the fandom is also because i haven’t decided if i wanna jump back in or not lmao. do i do it, knowing it’ll slow everything up even more? we tell ourselves all the time here in fandom circles that it’s just fanfic/fanart! you’re here to have fun! if it gets hard or boring or you wanna try something new—drop it! do it! you don’t owe anybody anything!! which is all very true yes sure. except i, me, mermie, want to finish things. i want the satisfaction of finishing the IAL series. im actually very proud of the fics, and while i know i will finish shouto’s (barring being kidnapped by pirates or aliens or death himself ig 💀), i also know im a slow writer, and that letting myself deviate off path into a completely different fandom will make me slower. 🥹 so idk. i guess ive just been ruminating on fiddly details like that LOL. also i don’t have a solid plot in mind yet (even tho i have a general gist of what i want) so that’s also probably the main leash rn LMAOOO. tbh if i get one im going in swinging, fist first, so let’s all hope that i remain idealess on that front lest the demons take me. 🥹🙏🏽