#this fic was a rollercoaster to write

[writeouswriter]

One man’s trash (my fic at 2AM after I’ve reread it so many times I’ve become sick of and disillusioned by it) is another man’s treasure (my fic a few days later when I’m looking at it with fresh eyes and realizing it’s actually not that bad, perhaps even pretty good).

[all-eyes-no-dragon]

I wanted to rec this for a while. This is the most amazing humans are space orcs story I've ever read. It's called, "In Search of Home".

It's an original work so there's no fandom you need to know to read it, it's over 362,000 words, which is more than decently long, and has an ongoing sequel that's surpassed the word count of the first story (we love getting closure 💞). It has a happy ending (not a spoiler, it says in the tags) so don't worry about your heart breaking too much.

I'm rereading the first story and I feel kind of cool knowing the alien words.

I cried reading it, I laughed, I felt victorious. I love it so much and want more people to know it exists because original works aren't as popular on ao3.

Mind the tags!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43547319

Summary:

[highhhfiveee]

Imagine having to explain to Mike what a Gyatt is😭😭

and the fact that it's not even a noun, but like...an expression. don't get me started lmao. it's like 'GYAT!" 😃

tags: fluff [: (sweet discussions and fun talk of rollercoasters. abby is me, conked out after a twelve hour six flags day).

it'd been a fun saturday; you, mike, and abby had all gone to the popular amusement park in the city, sweating in the lengthy queue lines and pigging out on fried snacks and sweets that made your stomachs gurgle after each ride.

you'd gotten back home late, and abby had fallen asleep in the car, leaving you two to put her to bed before winding down yourselves.

you and mike shower together, pressing your bodies close and massaging at the other's muscles, aiding the scorching water in washing away the tension of activity.

afterwards, you two retreat to your room and slip into your pajamas lethargically, recollecting on the day's thrills. mike falls to the bed as he pulls his shirt over his chest, resting his back against the headboard and grabbing for his phone settled on the nightstand. "'the deep dive' was your favorite?"

you're sitting on your side of the bed, gathering your hair and securing it all at the top of your head before tying your scarf around it. you turn to mike with squinted eyes, challenging, "how could it not be? a 90 degree drop into the ground is crazy. it makes me see stars every time."

mike protests with a squeak, muttering, "eh. that's just it's gimmick. other than that, it's just a glorified 'kinder circuit'" as he stares down at his phone.

"do not compare it to a kid's rollercoaster, mike. that's insulting," you muse playfully, beginning to spread lotion over your arms and hands.

"yeah, yeah," he stalely sighs as his thumb tracked over his phone screen time and time again after a short burst of noise. lately, he'd been prone to doomscrolling on tiktok, hooked after abby had shown him a lot of videos from her for you page, and now, he's furrowing his eyes at videos and replies using this slang he's never heard before.

"do you know what a...'gyat' is?" he questions, trying out the word on his tongue in a few different inflections. "is it like 'guy-yat'? they're saying it like 'guy-yat' in all these videos."

you take a deep breath, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you finish rubbing lotion into the skin of your legs and crawl up to the top of the bed to snuggle into mike's shoulder. "it's not a noun. it's really shortened AAVE, like...'gotdamn', but using it as a noun is its appropriated form."

mike hums, letting out a light chuckle at the frivolity of social media. you go over the term with him, showing him what it really sounds like and means, and he copies you, making you giggle.

"okay, that makes sense. seeing...'latina gyatt' did not make me feel good and now i know why," you full on belly-laugh then, sliding down on the sheets until your head is resting on mike's chest where you feel his own boisterous joy rumble through your cheek.

"well that's good. i can't let you go around being uninformed." mike grins down at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving your torso a gentle squeeze. with a tired tone, he mutters, "mmmm, and that's why i love you, baby."

okie short and sweet [: hope you all enjoyed!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear-@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

[rambleonwaywardson]

Writing fic for the first time in years (seriously like 6 years) other than a quick thing here or there and jumping right into the longest thing I’ve ever written is absolutely wild. Has me going from “this shit slaps” to “why do I suck” in 10 seconds flat.

I focused sooo much on academic writing for so long that I’ve had to rediscover and rebuild my own fiction writing style which can be a messy process. So, thanks all for taking an interest in what I’ve been writing I guess 😂🫣

[noodles-icetea]

Watching Megumi Fushiguro fall in love with someone else: A Silent Shadow's Tale

Megumi X F!Reader (Megumi is shown from teens to adult) Disclaimer: Hey there, fellow JJK enthusiasts! This fanfic is my take on the quieter side of Jujutsu Kaisen, where emotions run deeper than cursed techniques. I don’t own JJK, but if I did, Megumi would definitely have more screen time and Inumaki would get his own spin-off. Warnings: Get ready for feels aplenty! This story dives into unrequited love, awkward rooftop encounters, and enough emotional rollercoasters to rival a cursed spirit rampage. Also, brace yourselves for some serious heart-palpitating moments—I’m not responsible for emotional whiplash! Introduction: Welcome to my little corner of JJK chaos! Step into the shoes of a silent admirer, watching from the shadows as love dances around like a cursed spirit in Shibuya. It has Megumi being his usual brooding self. We’ll unravel the tangled web of unspoken words, lingering glances, and the sweet agony of watching someone you care about from afar. So grab your cursed tools, summon your inner sorcerer, and enjoy the ride, and maybe keep some tissues handy. You know, just in case. 😉

I still remember the first time I saw Megumi Fushiguro at Jujutsu High. His quiet intensity drew me in immediately, even though I tried my best to remain unnoticed in the background. He was always so focused, so determined. I admired him from afar, my heart fluttering each time he passed by in the hallways.

Years passed, and I never mustered the courage to speak to him. I watched him grow stronger, more confident. He became friends with Yuji and Nobara, and while they laughed and chatted, I remained in the shadows, content with my silent adoration. Whenever he glanced my way, my heart would race, and I'd quickly find somewhere else to look, afraid that he might see the feelings in my eyes.

Megumi always tried to include me in conversations. He'd ask about my day or share a comment about the latest mission, but I’d just mumble a response and retreat, my cheeks burning. He probably thought I was just shy or not much of a talker. How could he know that each word I spoke to him felt like a monumental effort, that his presence alone made my heart feel like it was about to burst?

As we graduated and continued our missions as jujutsu sorcerers, I watched him from the corner of my eye. I saw how he looked at others, how his expressions softened around certain people. There was a girl, a fellow sorcerer, who caught his attention. Her name was Aoi. She was strong, confident, everything I was not. They worked together often, their bond growing with each passing mission. I saw the way he looked at her, with a mix of admiration and something more. It broke my heart, but I couldn't blame him. Aoi was incredible.

Years slipped by, and I remained the silent observer. We were all 27 now, seasoned sorcerers who had seen too much, lost too much. Megumi and Aoi were inseparable. It was clear to everyone that they were in love, even if they hadn't said it outright. I stood on the sidelines, a silent witness to their blossoming relationship, my feelings for Megumi buried deep within me.

There were moments when Megumi would still approach me, his eyes kind and inquisitive. He'd ask if I was okay, if I needed anything. Each time, I'd give a small smile, nod, and find an excuse to leave. My heart ached, but I couldn't bear to be close to him, knowing he belonged to someone else.

One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, Megumi found me sitting alone on a rooftop, the city lights twinkling below us. He sat beside me in silence, and for a moment, it felt like old times, when we were just students at Jujutsu High. He turned to me, his eyes searching mine.

"Hey," he said softly. "Are you sure you're okay? You always seem to be running away."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look at him. "I'm fine, Megumi. Just… tired."

He nodded, his gaze still intent on me. "You know, if there's ever anything you want to talk about, I'm here."

My heart twisted painfully, and I managed a small smile. "Thank you, Megumi."

He smiled back, a gentle, understanding smile that made my heart ache even more. He stood up, offering me a hand. "Come on, let's get back. Everyone's waiting."

I took his hand, my fingers trembling slightly. As we walked back to our friends, I couldn't help but steal one last glance at him. Megumi Fushiguro, the man I had loved in silence for so many years. My feelings would remain unspoken, locked away in the depths of my heart. But I would always cherish these moments, these fleeting interactions that meant everything to me.

And so, I continued to walk by his side, a silent shadow, content with the little pieces of his world that I could still be a part of.

Author's Note: Hey lovely readers! So, this little story came to me when I saw this playlist tagged above, fueled by way too many late-night JJK marathons and an unhealthy amount of caffeine. 🚀 Remember, unspoken love is like a cursed spirit—it’s always lurking, just waiting to mess with your feelings. Feel free to drop a comment if you laughed, cried, or if you just want to yell about how much you love Megumi (because, same). Disclaimer: The characters, settings, and original storyline belong to Gege Akutami and the creators of Jujutsu Kaisen. I do not claim ownership of any original Jujutsu Kaisen characters, concepts, or plots. This work is purely fan-made and created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The specific plot, original characters, and any unique dialogue or scenes in this fan fiction are my own creations. Please do not reproduce, distribute, or re-post this work without my explicit permission. Feel free to reblog and share this post with proper credit, but please do not copy and paste the content elsewhere. This story may contain themes of unrequited love, emotional turmoil, and angst. Reader discretion is advised. This work is rated [appropriate rating based on content, e.g., "T for Teen" or "M for Mature"], and is intended for audiences of the appropriate age. Constructive feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged. However, please keep interactions respectful and kind. Any form of harassment, bullying, or inappropriate behavior will not be tolerated and may result in being blocked or reported. While I strive to provide appropriate content warnings, please be aware that certain themes or topics may still be triggering for some readers. Proceed with caution and take care of your mental well-being. This fan fiction falls under the fair use doctrine, as it is a non-commercial work created for the enjoyment of fans and the celebration of the original series. Thank you for reading and supporting fan fiction! Enjoy the story, and feel free to engage with the content responsibly.

[suffarustuffaru]

sometimes i think subaru is in the envy route because he has gender envy...

anon i agree with you so much i love this interpretation a lot. like i imagine he may have this intermingling of attraction to other people for their looks with the gender envy—another flavor of do i want to be WITH them or be them. subaru’s just got all this interesting admiration-tinged envy its a big hc of mine and i love exploring it in fancontent!! <3

[furekami]

powerless gods

begging everyone to read this fic plspslsplsplspls (epilogue spoiler)

[the-river-runs]

My best friend Fandom has once again returned and asked me to post to Tumblr for her! Once again, I have permission to post this video and all edits were done by Fandom (http.redshoes on Instagram)

These memes are all based on Cryptid Sightings by @naffeclipse

She has a lot to say this time around!

A message from Fandom:

"Hello Naff!! And hello everyone :D

It’s me, your girl, your local meme and edit maker, Fandom (aka http.redshoes on Insta 😎)

I’ve come back to make another meme comp for you guys! I wanted to make this earlier, but:

1. I was busy saving/collecting ATSV content on Instagram like Pokémon to getting noticed twice by Jack in the Box ☺️

2. I had to create an Ao3 account (understandably ofc AI theft sucks) and was um. You know… being silly in the comment section 👀 (please don’t mind me if you ever stumble upon them - I react and appreciate the stuff I enjoy in weird ways 💔)

3. Was waiting for my friend here to finish reading so I didn’t spoil anything in the memes! We both loved the series so much and man. The Naff do be eclipsing fr in releasing chapters left and right biggest round of applause for one of my favorite authors here 👏👏👏

Naff, you did such a great job writing this fanfic. I’m going to repeat myself from the comment section BUT you need to give yourself a pat on the back, relax, take a break - just reward yourself. You deserve it all and I hope that you take care of yourself for all the hard work you’ve done 💞💞💞

I’ve also included the lovely artist themselves, @themeeplord , again in one of my meme comps.

It’s only one meme but dang they always draw Eclipse to be getting that gain 💪💪💪 (bc of how muscular he is haha.) Mad respect to all of the drawings they create - they’re always a banger to see.

(Most of the memes surround the last episode + epilogue so if you haven’t read those chapters LOOK ‼️ AWAY ‼️ Don’t get spoiled 🤯)

(P.S. for the imagine scenario that’s not a meme, this is what they’re saying in the audio:

“[Amused] You can hear their heartbeats? Come on, that’s a little far fetched.”

“[Soft chuckling] I can hear yours too… Your heart’s beating pretty fast.”

I’d like to think this would take place around the beginning of “The Episode Bedeviling Bodies,” where the Hunter is still trying to understand their dear friend and what they’re capable of. I thought it was fitting ngl and included it in the comp.

There were uh, more memes I wanted to include, but I’m running low on storage space atm. I’ll get back to making more after I’m done clearing that out ^^’)

(P.P.S. Okay I don’t have Tumblr obviously but 🕴️ apparently you guys really liked the SJ memes I made??? Because my friend’s been receiving notifs of it still??? Thank you so much you guys!! I didn’t really expect people to enjoy them that much 😭💘💘💘)

Now without further ado, enjoy the meme comp! >:D " -Fandom

[wanderingcas]

me writing 50 minutes ago: i hate this fic

me writing now, a scene later: oh my god i love this fic

[cam-stopped-eating-candles]

Shout out to Canadas most overworked social worker

[nomsfaultau]

Writing advice

Writing Mandatory Family Reunion has gotten to the point of emotionally convoluted that I'm making scene roller coaster charts and color coding parts of the text by topic. Which, I highly recommend these writing tools. A roller coaster map is something I picked up from theater, and is useful for structuring emotions. A quick example below:

Its where you plot a timeline oscillating between positive and negative emotions, and how quickly they're switched between. It helps to know where you want the emotional peak/pit for a scene/chapter/story, so you can arrange plot beats accordingly. Many stories try to have escalating conflict, so you can use this method to gauge the intensity of reactions to crisis in order to achieve this. The problem I had with my chapter was whiplash between emotions, so by charting it out I could see where transitions needed to smooth jarring flips between emotional extremes. Flooring the gas pedal can also be bad, so the roller coaster method lets you see how quickly you switch between major emotions, and where breathing room may be helpful.

There is a problem with the axis being positive to negative. While capturing the intensity goes alright, it's hard to distinguish different types of emotions. Anger, fear, and sorrow are all negative, but also feel very different to a reader. So at peaks/plummets I made little notes about the majority emotion there. I found the roller coaster method made it easier to understand how my character's would react based off their accumulating emotional/mental state, and you can multiple to track the journeys of multiple characters.

As for the color coding method, I use it for structuring ideas. I took sections of the text in a scene and colored them based on the topic. Using comment options can also be super useful. A following example, redacted so I don't spoil my readers lol:

This helped with tracking the development of an idea in a scene where many interweaving subjects were being covered. I first focused on just how that idea changed over the course of the scene, and the next and next. Then, I looked at the transitions between each colored block, mostly the last/first two sentences between the concepts. That way I could see if there was a clear flow of logic between one topic to the next. Then, I started rearranging the parts into a way that structured a more solid scene. The scene felt a little bit like a puzzle, trying to get transitions to line up, switching around colored paragraphs into an order that made sense both for the individual argument angle as well as how it contributed to the other topics. I personally was using this for an internal monologue heavy scene, but I imagine it could also work pretty well for conversations.

Anyway, these are just some tools I use when I dislike a scene but can't figure out why. Visualizing the story can really help when trying to structure the ideas and emotions. Happy writing!

[m-for-musings]

Honey Webbing

Part 22 [THEY FINALLY KISS!!!]

Halsin gently closed the door to the children's bedroom, a soft smile lingering on his lips as the echoes of their laughter and whispered thanks for the bedtime story filled the quiet night. The moon cast a silvery glow through the hallway windows, and the house had settled into a peaceful hush. As he made his way towards the couch that now served as his bed, a concern tugged at the edges of his mind.

Minthara.

He had not seen her leave the bedroom all day, not even to eat. She had been in there since the morning, and though he respected her need for privacy, focus and recovery, a nagging worry gnawed at him. Halsin paused at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't want to disturb her, but he couldn't ignore the possibility that she was neglecting her own well-being. He made his way into the kitchen, his movements quiet and deliberate. The fire in the hearth had died down to glowing embers, but he quickly managed to light it up once more, the low flames casting a warm, muted light across the room. Halsin set a pot of water to boil, preparing a soothing herbal tea while reheating the leftover stew from dinner. As the tea steeped, he gathered everything with care, placing a bowl of the steaming stew on a tray alongside a thick slice of bread. The fragrant tea followed, its warm aroma filling the air as he carefully arranged the items, making sure everything was just right before heading out.

The wood steps creaked softly under his weight as he ascended the stairs. He hesitated outside his bedroom door, his heart stirring with a mixture of concern and an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Taking a steadying breath, he rapped his knuckles lightly against the door.

"Minthara?" he called softly, not wanting to startle her. "It's Halsin. May I come in?"

There was a brief silence before he heard the faint rustle of movement from within. He took it as a sign of acknowledgment and slowly pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit by candles, casting long shadows across the floor. Minthara sat at a small desk, her eyes locked onto the pages of a well-worn notebook, her brow furrowed in concentration as she furiously scribbled notes with a quill.

Halsin stepped inside, the tray balanced carefully in his hands. "I brought you some food," he said gently, his voice tinged with genuine concern. "I noticed you hadn't come out all day, and I thought you might be hungry."

Minthara's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing slightly as she registered his presence. She looked at the tray and then back at her notebook, clearly torn between her frustration and the sudden reminder of her own needs. As Halsin set the tray down beside her, he couldn't help but glance at the chaotic scrawl covering the pages. Among the notes about possible coded messages, he saw a frustrated rant: "What does it mean? Why did I write this SHIT??"

"Struggling against your own handwriting?" he joked gently.

Minthara shot him a sharp look, her irritation evident. But then, to his surprise, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Yes, it's almost as if it was written by a bear," she replied, her tone begrudgingly playful.

"Alas, I must say that bears tend to have horrible writing skills," Halsin continued, a playful glint in his eye. Minthara smirks, but soon her smile falters, her eyes dropping back to the diary in front of her. The lighthearted moment gave way to a deeper frustration, her shoulders slumping slightly as she let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers tightening around the quill. "I have yet to go through the entirety of my belongings, but I thought retrieving my diary would at least shed some light on the mystery of my situation," she admitted, her voice tinged with exasperation. She shook her head, her brow furrowing in frustration. "I cursed myself for being so adept at encrypting messages. It's as if I’ve locked away my own thoughts and thrown away the key."

Halsin nods in acknowledgement of her struggle. "You've been through a lot," he said gently. Then, his tone grew slightly more serious as he added, "You shouldn't punish yourself for it. Take a break instead, eat something. Proper rest might help with your memory loss."

"It's not just about remembering," she said, and then her brow furrowed again. "It's about time. I had a war at my hands down in the Underdark, and each moment I spend here, trying to know who did this to me, and why, my enemies grow stronger. But at the same time, I can’t simply return without this knowledge, otherwise I’d be dooming myself to be sabotaged again.”

Halsin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I understand," he said. "But you also won't be able to decode anything if you're exhausted and hungry."

Minthara's gaze flickered to the tray of food, and she sighed again, this time with a reluctant resignation.

"Good," he said softly. "If you need anything else, let me know."

*** Halsin settled himself on the wooden bench of the veranda, the familiar feel of the carving knife in his hands a comforting presence. It was already late at night, but he still had a couple of hours before his body needed a meditation. As he gazed out over the tranquil landscape, a sense of peace settled over him, a rare respite from the agitation that had recently consumed his life.

The view from his vantage point was nothing short of idyllic. Stretching out before him, the lazy river wound its way through the lush, verdant landscape, its gently rippling surface reflecting the dappled moonlight that filtered through the dense canopy of trees. Below him, the quaint village nestled in the valley, with its flat-roof cottages and winding cobblestone streets still a work in progress. Raising the knife, Halsin began to carve away at the piece of wood he held with smooth, rhythmic strokes of the blade. 

He was oblivious to the passing of time, his world narrowed to the delicate figurine slowly taking form beneath his skilled hands. Each stroke was deliberate, honed by years of practice, as he coaxed the wood to reveal the intricate details – the flutter of wings, the curve of flowing feathers, the gentle tilt of a head. Yet, not even the peaceful scenario and the relaxing activity could shield his mind from the haunting memories that continued to plague him.

The anguished face of the elder Baleen, his deathbed agony seared into Halsin's consciousness, refused to be extinguished. And with it came the crushing weight of the doubt. Had he made the right choice? Was he entitled to make this choice in the first place? After all, who was he to decide who lived and who died so deliberately?

The words of the elder’s son swirl in his mind once again, ringing even more true than they were before. He had saved Minthara even as she lay lifeless before him. Yet, he had taken the life of the elder, who had still clung to the thread of his existence. The bitter irony of it all gnawed at Halsin's very soul, leaving him wracked with a crippling self-doubt.

Halsin paused in his whittling, the delicate wooden figurine forgotten as he grappled with the turmoil within. How could he justify his actions? How could he live with the knowledge that he had unilaterally decided the fates of those he had encountered, when not even the gods are allowed to take such a direct approach? The responsibility weighed heavily upon him, a burden he had never sought to bear.

With a shaky sigh, Halsin stares at his work, his calloused fingers trembling. The tranquility of the moment had been shattered, replaced by a tempest of conflicting emotions that threatened to drown him. He closed his eyes in a silent prayer for the Oak Father, yearning for the clarity and conviction that had once guided his path.

So engrossed was he in the depths of his own heavy heart that he failed to register the soft footsteps approaching. It was only when he heard the sound of a liquid shaking inside a bottle — a sound utterly out of place — that Halsin finally looked up. He found Minthara standing there, leaning against the wall, a bottle of mead in her hand, sipping directly from it with her air of casual defiance. 

“I hope you don't mind," Minthara said, her tone measured as she gestured at the bottle. “I needed something stronger than tea.”

Minthara's words cut through the haze of Halsin's dark musings, jolting him back to the present. As he finally registered his surroundings, the first thing that caught his eye was her figure. Her new leather attire clung to her form, the intricate cuts revealing just as much as the garments he remembered from their past travels. The moonlight played across her dark skin, highlighting her fierce beauty and the proud, unyielding set of her bare shoulders. For a moment, Halsin could do nothing but drink in the sight of her, his heart stirring with a potent mix of… something… he couldn't quite explain, but was definitely much better than the misery he was in moments ago.

“What’s wrong with you, druid?” Her voice echoes in his ears, making him blink in a sudden burst of self-awareness. He was staring, and by her expression, it must have been in a very awkward way.

“There's nothing wrong.” He replied hurriedly, turning his attention back to the wooden figure he was carving, sliding aside in order to make room for her on the bench. Minthara settles herself beside him, offering the bottle, which he resignantely refuses. The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds being the faint rustling of the carving knife, the liquid shaking inside the bottle at each sip, and the gentle lapping of the river below.

"Was it you?" Her question, sharp and accusatory, caught the druid off guard, his brow furrowing in confusion. What was she implying? Surely she couldn't believe that he had somehow orchestrated the events that had led to her current predicament. How could Minthara even entertain such a notion? He had played no part in her downfall, nor did he possess the means or the motivation to sabotage her in such a manner.

"No," he replied firmly, his voice carrying a note of genuine surprise and even a hint of offense. "I wouldn't even know how to reach you in the Underdark, let alone sabotage you."

The drow's brows furrowed as she scrutinized his face. Halsin held her stare unflinchingly, allowing the sincerity of his words to shine through. Halsin could see the signs of her exhaustion in her eyes and etched into the tight lines around her mouth. 

"I know,” she finally said, averting her gaze in a resolute yet disappointed tone. “Maybe I was just hoping for an easy answer, but there is none.”

Another moment of silence. Another large sip of the bottle. “Why would anyone go to such lengths?" she murmured, more to herself than to him, between large sips of mead. "Only to cast me adrift in such a peculiar manner, along with most of my important belongings? Nothing about it makes any sense."

Halsin turned to her, leaning a little closer on their shared seat, his expression softening with genuine concern. "I wish I had answers for you, truly.”

Minthara slowly shook her head, her gaze flickering from the bottle of wine to the landscape below, the frustration she felt very evident in the tightness of her posture. "I hate feeling like this," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Lost. Weak. Helpless."

“You are none of those things," he said firmly, "You've survived so much already, this is just another challenge, one you will overcome.”

Minthara scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Spare me the motivational speech,” she said, the words laced with a familiar edge of defiance, but there was an underlying sadness to it. “I never needed your pity, druid." 

"It's not pity, Minthara," Halsin assured her, his voice gentle yet unyielding. "You single-handedly defeated a Cave Bear in combat and managed to imprison me. You almost destroyed my grove with little more than a bunch of drunk goblins under your command. You resisted a complete brainwash long enough for our companions to come to your aid, without shedding a single tear in the process. Not to mention surviving the horrors that Orin got you through. More than once, I considered leaving the camp at night in the middle of the Shadowfell because the prospect of facing the hungry shadows seemed more reasonable than facing you, should you turn on me. You are one of the most fierce, strong-willed souls I've met in my entire life. For Sylvanus’ sake, I never pitied you. I was terrified of you.”

Minthara's eyes widened, and for a moment the fierce drow, always in control and projecting strength, seemed taken aback by Halsin's words. Her expression shifted from surprise to something softer, her usually guarded exterior cracking to reveal a look of genuine appreciation.

For a moment, they held each other's gaze, the silence thick with unspoken emotions. Halsin’s feelings, that had been simmering beneath the surface, now surged to the forefront, impossible to ignore. He leaned a little bit closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch her hand, half-expecting her to flinch away.

But she didn’t.

The next thing Halsin knew, they had closed the distance with a sudden, almost desperate movement, their lips capturing each other in a fierce, hungry kiss. Halsin's arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer as she responded with equal intensity. The kiss was a collision of emotions — trepidation, respect, and a burgeoning desire that neither could deny any longer.

Halsin's heart raced as Minthara's hands began to travel along his neck and chest. The tension was overwhelming, stirring a primal urge within that threatened to overpower him. His skin started to prickle, the edges of his vision blurred as his body instinctively began the process of shifting into his bear form. Minthara abruptly pulled away, the sudden separation jarring him back to his senses, gasping as he struggled to maintain his elven form at all costs.

"I... I'm sorry," Halsin stammered, his voice thick with apology as he fought to regain control over his shifting. "Sometimes, when the blood runs hot enough..." He trailed off, his words catching in his throat, unable to fully articulate the inner battle he faced. The frustration and despair mingled on his features, a plea for understanding in his gaze.

Minthara's expression was a mix of exasperation and composed curiosity as her eyes bore into his, probing the depths of his turmoil with an intensity that left him feeling utterly exposed. “I’m flattered I have that effect on you.” She tilted her head slightly, as if weighing his words, a hint of a challenge in her eyes. "But tame your inner beast, Halsin," she commanded, her voice firm and unyielding. Halsin felt a shiver run down his spine, both from her words and the intensity of her gaze. Then, to his surprise, a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Unless you want me to tame it for you," she added, her tone carrying a seductive edge that left him momentarily breathless.

Halsin watched as Minthara turned away, her movements smooth and commanding, her back straight, hands clasped behind her like she owned every step. There was something about the way she spoke, how she moved — it sent a shiver through him, one that he welcomed. Every word she uttered seemed to press down on him, but in a way that he craved, as if the weight of her authority was exactly what he needed in the moment.

"I'll be in your quarters," she said, her gaze flicking over him like she already knew he wouldn’t refuse. And she was right. "Do not keep me waiting."

Halsin watched Minthara’s figure disappear, his heart pounding, his breath ragged as the primal urge surged through him. The bear within clawed at the edges of his mind, its raw power threatening to take control. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, desperately trying to focus on steadying the rhythm of his breathing. His fists clenched, nails pressing into his palms, grounding him in the present. He whispered a prayer to Sylvanus, seeking guidance, and as his hand rose to his chest, a soft light flickered at his fingertips. He placed it against his heart, and an unseen wave of tranquility washed over him³. His face, once taut with the strain of keeping his instincts at bay, gradually softened. The storm inside him ebbed, and he imagined the bear retreating, its growls quieting to a gentle hum.

With the beast slipping back into the shadows of his mind, Halsin braced himself to face Minthara once more.

³ I tried to depict the Calm Emotions spell.

< Part 21 |

[nostalgia-tblr]

this fic is turning very bantery, i enjoy writing banter but the downside is i can easily end up with page long conversations with no speech tags until i go back and add them later, and adding them later feels more awkward and thus trickier somehow.

but! when the characters play verbal tennis in your head for a while, that's the kiss of a chef, as the young folk say.

[emily-mooon]

@stonathanweek Day Two: Roomates AU/AU

Happy day two of Stonathan Week!

For this day, I give all of you art of my Itazura Na Kiss/Mischievous Kiss AU.

Reference image and blurbs based on summaries on the back of shoujo mangas under the cut.

I used an image from the original manga, Itazura Na Kiss as a pose reference (there are a lot of adaptations for this story. I could make an entire post about them but I won’t cause I have only seen two). I liked the pose better than what I was originally going to use because it would give off that classic shoujo vibe that I wanted.

Now here are the summaries. I wrote two of them. One from a Steve angle, and one from a Jonathan angle. I did this because I thought it would be fun. I hope they sound super cheesy because that is is what I was going for.

Steve’s

Eighteen year old Steve Harrington has it all. He’s the captain of Hawkins Academy’s Basketball team, quarterback on the football team, and the most desired boy in the whole school. But there is one thing he doesn’t have: the heart of his two year long crush, Jonathan Byers. Now that he’s graduating, Steve decided before Jonathan was out of his life forever to confess his deep love in the form of a letter. After pouring his heart out, all he got in return was a hard,flat no. At least it will be easier to leave for college now. But after coming home from hanging out with friends, Steve was surprised to see who was sitting on his couch. It was none other than the handsome Jonathan! Turns out his aunt and Jonathan’s mother were childhood friends and now due to unknown reasons, they will be living with them. Will this new living situation bring Steve closer to his crush? Or will it cause a further split between them?

Jonathan’s

Seventeen year old Jonathan Byers went through his first two years of high school in relative peace, until now when the most popular boy in school, Steve Harrington, confessed that he has a crush on him. Of course Jonathan rejected him, the social construct of popularity was something he hated and wanted to stay far away from. It seems like now that will be impossible. Due to unfortunate circumstances, Jonathan and his family will be living with Steve and his Aunt. With rumours spreading fast, he wants nothing more than to go back to the days when people barely even noticed him. Will Jonathan’s wish of going back to being an outcast come true? Or will the experience bring on new feelings?

Hope you all have a good rest of your weekend!

[soaps-mohawk]

The way you write the scenes between Simon and omega and the tension between them feels like Nazareth by Sleep Token. There's the sensuality that implies a sexual relationship, yet at the same time, it could be lethal if not handled properly

Ugh that is so perfect anon I could kiss you 💋

That is them. That is 100% them. You have no idea

[wondrouswendy]

Out of My Hands and Into Your Heart, Chapter 17 Fandom: Alan Wake (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alex Casey/Alan Wake, Alan Wake/Alice Wake, Fictional Alex Casey/Alan Wake, Alan Wake & Barry Wheeler Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Romance, Humor, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Dysfunctional Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon-Typical Violence, Miscommunication, Bisexual Disaster Alan Wake, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Character Study, Depression, Not Everything Will Be Warned For To Avoid Story Spoilers

In chapter 17, Alan faces a difficult choice: continue onward down the path he's going on or course correct. I put a lot of work into this chapter in particular, so I'm half-excited, half-terrified, wondering how it will be received. If you read it, I hope it garners an emotional response worthy of what's happening in the story. Let me know what you think if you click through! 💘