#i just can't go into all the things otherwise i'll be sat here writing for hours

[suspendingtime]

Long have I wrestled with the horse metaphor, and I continue to.

Because I feel like there were a few possibilities, but the first and most prominent is definitely Nectar = Edwina and High Flyer = Kate. And I've never directly related it to the Pall Mall of it all, but that's such a good example of 'Nectar' being on the wrong course.

I really like the connection between bees with the name Nectar. And bees also being attracted to heavily scented flowers, so Kate and her lily soap making Anthony go crazy makes perfect sense. There's so many layers.

And Anthony bringing Nectar as a gift (himself? if we go with that angle) to offer to Edwina, but Edwina not caring about the actual horse. Just that it looks like a version of one that she's read about in one of her fairy tales; she appreciates the gesture above all else. Contrasted with Kate hating his gesture of the gift, and pretending she dgaf about Nectar. But we know that she's the biggest horse-girl in all of Mayfair and would treasure tf out of that man horse.

Perhaps I think too much about it...

Which one is your pick, my lord? Nectar. Well-bred, highly trained, and well-favored. Nectar. Really? Yes. I have a feeling about him. A feeling. Pardon me? You simply chose the horse everyone else has chosen. Quite a “feeling”. I made a strategic bet. Oh, so you’ve considered your horse’s temperament, as well as the conditions of the track, in order to properly assess its true potential? Nectar is a prize steed. Nectar ran well at Doncaster, but that was a firmer course. The weather was much cooler. Thus is size was an advantage. Today the track is soft, and it is hot, meaning he will struggle to make headway, overheat and slow down during the final leg, giving High Flyer, a much swifter, lighter, cooler horse, the victory.

BRIDGERTON — 2.02 “Off to the Races”

[octuscle]

Hey there! I'm having a debate with my roommate and wondering if you can help settle it. He says that if you gave someone the body of a jock, without any mental changes, they'll eventually start acting like a jock anyway. I don't think that's true. Just because you have muscles and look like a jock doesn't mean you'll start acting like one, right? We were thinking of trying to set up an experiment for our honor's thesis and wanted your input, thanks!

Are you really sure you want to go through with it? We are happy to do it. I'll create a preset for you that only changes your body. But really. 1.90 m tall. 140 kg of pure muscle mass. But everything else stays the same. To be honest, you don't look like you're ready for it. But it's up to you. I can only recommend that you are in a safe and, above all, unobserved place when you activate the preset.

You take a deep breath. You stand naked in the middle of your room. Next to you, you have laid out a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a tank top, a jockstrap, a pair of socks and a pair of sneakers. You can only hope that the clothes will fit your new self. 3. 2. 1. enter!

Wow! Holy shit! Now that was quick and without a transition. You look down at the floor from a slightly greater height. And when you look down, all you see are pecs. Fucking huge pecs. You need a mirror. Phew! Very slowly! The new body works a little differently than the old one… Your center of gravity is much higher up. You stand in front of the mirror. This no longer has anything to do with you. It's more Greek demigod than human. Your cock is getting hard. A huge cock that fits this huge body. You never wank. Especially not in the middle of your room. But now you have to. Not for long. And a huge load lands on the mirror and the floor. Yes, I've changed a few details apart from the height and muscle mass. You've already noticed one thing. You'll notice the others too.

You're convinced that the new body won't change anything. So you act as you always have. First of all, you clean up the mess. You are manically clean and tidy. Then you put on your clothes. The shoes are a bit tight, but otherwise everything fits pretty well. So off you go to the library. After all, your honors thesis isn't going to write itself.

Iris and Rita at the information desk didn't recognize you when you greeted them. They looked at you as if you were an alien when you wished them a good morning. You sat down at your regular place in the library. You like routines. You started working on your thesis outline when Vincent came over. Vincent always sits three tables behind you. Nice guy, similarly obsessive as you. He clears his throat and says that you can't sit here, the seat is taken. Actually, you should have said something along the lines of "Vincent, don't you recognize me, it's me!". But somehow you can't help it. You have to try it out. You cross your muscular arms behind your head, look deep into his eyes and just ask who cares. Vincent retreats like a beaten dog. Three minutes later, you have a WhatsApp message: "There's some stupid musclehead sitting in your seat!" You reply that it's okay, you're not on campus for a few days for empirical studies anyway.

But you're not as productive as usual. Your new body is keeping you busier than you thought. It feels so good to tense your muscles. Your hard cock is constantly leaking precum and is always half stiff. Shit, after an hour you have to jerk off. Fuck, you make quite a mess in the toilet. You try to clean everything up with toilet paper. When you come out of the stall, a student is standing at the urinal, looking at you and wanking. Get out of here quickly, you think to yourself.

The incident is definitely worth recording. After all, you've never experienced this before. But it was hot. As you type out your thoughts, your stomach begins to growl. So loud that Vicent hisses "Pssst". It's actually too early for lunch. But the canteen is about to open. So you're one of the first in the queue. You can hardly wait. And you heap heaps of food onto your tray. You're so hungry.

The weather is good, you sit down at a table in the sun and, ignoring all the table manners, you wolf down your food. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting "Hey, guys, there are empty seats here with the big boy!" You look up. A couple of idiots from the football team are standing at your table. "Dude, okay if we join you?" asks one of the guys, who seems to be some kind of leader. "Sure thing," you say with your mouth full, spitting a bit of your chicken across the table. "Cool," he replies, giving you a fist bump, which you return somewhat hesitantly and also a little awkwardly. And before you know it, you're sitting in a cloud of sweat, testosterone and stupid comments.

You start talking to the boys more for scientific reasons. They ask if you're Fresman because they've never seen you before. You say that you're actually studying somewhere else, but you're here to work on your Honor's thesis. The leader spits his Coke across the table. "Fuck, dude! You already have a degree? In what? Lifting iron?" Everyone laughs. Very loudly. You too. It's actually really funny with the boys…

The boys go to the gym after lunch. I wonder if you're coming too. You don't even think about it. You just say that you haven't got anything to change into. Everyone laughs and asks if anyone is interested. So you go along. It's a field study, you think to yourself. You're observing everything very closely. You don't want to attract negative attention. The processes seem very simple. You copy what you see the boys doing. You even enjoy it. You work up a sweat. You forget the time. The others are gone at some point. You're still here. You look in the mirror. Your long, sweaty hair falls across your forehead. Your friends all have much shorter hair. It's also more practical when working out. You look at your watch. Shit!!!!! You have to get your stuff from the library before it closes. Trevor, sitting at the information desk, doesn't recognize you either. It's already very empty when you pack up your things. Vincent is still there, mumbling something about how antisocial it is to occupy a space you're not using. You don't know why you're doing this now. But you go to him very slowly. You press his face into your armpit. And say that you had more important things to do. Shit, Vincent is seriously licking the sweat out of your armpit hair now? Pathetic little fucker, your new friends would say now. You're far too surprised. By you. By him. Slightly disturbed, you go home. You throw yourself on your bed and think about your first day as a jock. You fall asleep.

You are actually a person who is always well prepared. But you are amazed at how little you have prepared for this experiment. You have a combination to wear. It's still sweaty after yesterday's workout. But you don't have anything else. So this morning you're not going to the library, but to the paint shop. Shopping. A pair of sweatshorts, a few tank tops, socks and jockstraps, sneakers. A bit of compression gear for training. You pass a barbershop. There are a couple of guys inside who are obviously no strangers to the gym either. Fuck it, you think. Down with the long hair!

You haven't been in the library this late in a long time. Vincent has blocked your seat for you. With a few protein bars. Cute! He winks at you when you come in. You raise your arm and smell your armpit. Shit, you haven't showered! Fuck… Well, maybe the little prick will like that even more…

By lunchtime with the boys, you at least want to have logged yesterday and this morning. And you're looking for some literature on the connection between mind and body. Most of it is ancient. Nothing has been published on the subject for a long time. And if there is, it's more about the effect of the state of mind on the body. Less often on the effect of the body on the state of mind. That's obvious, because normally a genius like you doesn't acquire a body overnight…

The lunch break with the boys was cool. The guys are just very chilled, you like that. No highbrow topics. Just sport, fucking and partying. Unfortunately, a lot of football too. You have no idea about that. After lunch, the boys want to throw some balls on the lawn. You have to go to a colloquium later. And Luke said that you should finally replace those nerdy glasses with contact lenses. The visit to the optician was a good excuse not to embarrass yourself at football.

A whole day without going to the gym sucks! That's why you got up early today. You didn't do your thesis assignments yesterday, nor did you get your muscles burning. That has to change. Shit, you're still struggling with your contact lenses. But it looks a thousand times better. You're screaming alpha with every trained muscle fiber. And that's great! You almost feel at home in the gym. And nobody questions your position. In the library, Vincent provides you with everything you need. He fetches books for you and takes them away again. He has also already offered to help you with your work. What a loser! You don't need to order anything in the canteen after just two days. Your extra large portion of extra protein-rich food is prepared especially for you. Twice. You come once when the canteen opens. And once just before it closes. Your body is a machine. And this machine needs fuel. Lots of fuel.

You sit in the library and document the developments of the last few days. It really is only a few days. Reading through the last few lines almost makes you nauseous. Has your body replaced your mind so quickly? You need to get a grip on yourself. You did your Master's with distinction. You're working on your honor's thesis. You have a chance of getting a professorship at your old college. And you suddenly prefer to spend more time in the gym or with the airheads on the football team? You make a plan. Two hours of gym in the morning, two hours break with the bros at lunchtime, two hours of gym in the evening. And in between, focus on your thesis and your studies. It shouldn't be that difficult. You're an intelligent and disciplined man. So let's get going!

You have made every effort. And you actually come to the conclusion in your thesis that the body of a jock does not automatically lead to the mind of a stupid, arrogant and superficial jock. You have fun with both. Training in the gym and hanging out with the bros. And working scientifically and researching the human psyche. But in a lecture you realize that it's not you who changes, it's your environment that changes you. Since you got this body three weeks ago, no one has spoken to you about your studies. Vincent, who you thought was intellectual through and through, just wants you to let him lick your armpits in the evening. Your bros didn't even ask you what you were studying. And then the day comes when you attend your doctoral supervisor's lecture. Since your transformation, you've only spoken or written on the phone. You sit in the front row. You appreciate your doctoral supervisor for his liberal political views, his rhetorical skills and his incredible knowledge. At the end of his lecture, he looks at you. And asks if the young man, who unfortunately was unable to dress appropriately, understood a word of what he had just said. He assumes you were mistaken in the lecture hall. But if you invest your energy in your biceps and not your brain, that's to be expected.

First you think about whether you are saying anything particularly intelligent. To express your indignation at his insolence. To justify yourself. But then you think about what has been really fun in the last few weeks. And who you really had fun with. And you answer "Nah, professor dude! Dat wuz alot of words n stff u sed. I dnt thnk I need all dat for my degree as a personal trainer. wdut, bro?" You make your pecs dance. The lecture hall laughs. You stand up. Fuck the honor's thesis!

You started studying sports economics again. You also work as a trainer in a fitness studio. And you have a pretty successful YouTube fitness channel. You recently received a call from your old doctoral supervisor. He read through the draft of your honor's thesis again. It was all very promising. Why did you drop out? You say that you obviously have to choose between brains and brawn at some point. And you're grateful to him for helping you decide. And with that you hang up.

[joshslater]

Stained

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They say when you are in an accident everything moves in slow motion. That wasn't at all how it felt for me. I was driving down a slight slope toward an intersection out in bumfuckyall, where a truck was waiting at a red light. Why they would put a traffic light out here with nothing but crop fields around is beyond me. Getting some extra revenue from people running the lights perhaps. Not busy enough to warrant the installation though. Maybe to stop traffic when harvesters or whatever pass by, but they would move slowly and be pretty darn visible in this terrain.

The belt tensioner yanked me into the seat at the same time as I heard the crash and I had just time to turn my head back from the fields to see the now milky front window, shattered into thousands of small glass cubes suspended by the plastic film on the back of it, give way to the mass that had been thrown off the flatbed and flung into my windshield. Through the widening gap at the top of the windshield liquid was dumped into the car, all over me, and everything turned into black silence with a strong smell of chemicals.

It all went faster than I could register, and I just sat there still with burning eyes, trying to comprehend what had just happened. I somehow had run into the truck. I heard hurried steps outside and someone first trying to open the door then rapping the side window and shouting "Are you hurt, buddy?"

Was I? My shoulder hurt from the seat belt, and I couldn't see anything, but otherwise I wouldn't feel anything damaged. I fumbled a bit to find how to open the door and once successful responded "I'm OK I think. I can't see though."

"Thank Lord. It's wood stain. Had some buckets in the back. Some paint too. It'll make you dizzy and sick, but I wouldn't worry about going blind. Let me help you out and lay you down. I have plenty of water to rinse you."

Despite squeezing my eyes as shut as I could, reasoning that opening them would probably let more paint in than out, I had no problems finding and removing the seat belt, and stepping out of the car. As soon as I was out of the car he grabbed my arm and led me to a spot in front of both vehicles. My mouth tasted of chemicals and I spat on the ground several times.

"Just lie down here, buddy. Are you sure you aren't hurt?" "A bit sore, but nothing really hurts." "That's a relief. The car is probably a write-off with all the damage outside and in. This is all my fault." Without opening my eyes I let myself be guided to the ground while he talked. I could hear the steps of another person getting closer from beyond my car. "It is?" "Casy, get the big jug!" he told the other person, who answered a curt "Yep" in a young man's voice. "I must have put in reverse while waiting for the light and then... reverse into you," he said, talking to me again. "It's a rental. I'm sure they are used to handling things like this." "Just stay still there buddy, and I'll start pouring."

He began pouring water on my face, occasionally wiping with a rag of some sort. "Open your mouth and take some water. Then swig it around and spit it out." We did that a few times. A few more rinses and I dared to open my eyes. He looked like he sounded like. Trucker cap, beard, grey and blue flannel shirt, blue jeans, and boots. Hovering behind him was a boy in his late teens or early twenties, dressed very similarly in camo cap, blue JROTC hoodie, jeans, and boots. For my part I was wood-stain brown and garden-fence white.

"I'm Cliff, this is Casy," Cliff said and gave me his hand to help me up. As I stood up and looked past his pick up I could see my car. It looked worse than I would have expected. While the collision didn't feel that bad, the crumple zones certainly felt it. A few buckets of paint had landed next to it, but clearly the inside was ruined by the ones that had passed through the glass. I had no hope that my travel bag with what little extra clothes I had brought with me had survived either, as I think I had tossed it on the passenger seat. 

"I'm Bradly" "Casy, give Bradly your pop. He can't taste nothing but paint." Casy did a nod and another dull "yep", but jumped into the truck with ease and was quickly out again with a can of Monster. Ignoring that it was opened and with a third gone, I took an eager sip, swirled it in my mouth, and swallowed. When I had emptied the can the taste of oil and paint was almost gone.

"I reckon we need to hose you down before we can do anything else. Casy can stay here while we bring you to the house to clean you up. Then we can figure out how to take care of the car. How's that sound, buddy?"

"Sounds reasonable to me." "I'm sorry, but do you mind getting on the flatbed." He motioned all over my paint-drenched body. "No. Is it far?" "It's a quick drive."

When you are lying on your back on a tarp next to reclaimed wood, slowly drying into the color of an antique table, seeing nothing but the afternoon sky, nothing is a quick drive. I didn't dare move, not so much because I was lying unprotected in the back of a truck that was driving far too fast for my comfort, but because I was soaked in oil and paint and water, and didn't want to mess anything else up. The wind running over my body was chilling, despite the balmy weather. My shoulder and chest hurt from where the belt tightener pulled me back into the seat. Despite the wind there was a strong smell of paint. I felt lightheaded. My mind began to wander. I should probably call the motel that I would be late, or not arriving at all. I was thinking about how I decided to not have a coffee at the diner to get back on the road quicker. I should have bought one. The apple pie slices looked delicious. Eventually however I would see treetops creeping into view and soon after we came to a stop on gravel.

"Where is he?" a woman asked nearby. "Back there," Cliff answered and opened the tailgate. He extended a hand to help me down. "Hey buddy, this is Sarah!" "Hi," Sarah said smiling. "Bradly"

Instead of walking towards the house she motioned toward one of the barns. "Hose is over there. Then you can take a proper shower after." On Sarah's urging I took off everything but my briefs. She suggested I take them off as well, but didn't press the issue. The water was pretty high-pressure and ice cold. Cold water worked better than hot water Sarah claimed, not that hot water was an option outside the house.

Once I was hosed enough that the water didn't run brown anymore, and I felt I was near risking hypothermia, I wrapped myself in an old discolored beach blanket Sarah handed me and we walked back to the house. I shivered and my lightheadedness had turned into a dull, thumping headache. Cliff and the truck were gone. Sarah grabbed one of the white plastic chairs, placed it near the front door, and told me to sit down. "The white paint doesn't stick too bad to the skin, but we're never going to be able to clean this out," she said and touched my hair. I hadn't felt a feeling like that since I used way too much hair gel for Halloween many years ago. It was like my hair and the paint had formed a helmet. She quickly returned from the house with a trimmer on an extension cord. "Sides are not too bad. I can make a flat top," she said and buzzed away, clearly used to taking care of Cliff and Casy. I cringed when I heard it, and was about to stop her, but changed my mind. Better to let her keep as much hair as possible and decide on the real emergency haircut later.

She then led me through the house and what must have been Casy's room, with a home gym and a gaming setup, to his bathroom. Everything was big and roomy, but I guess it is inexpensive to build large when you have lots of land, time, and resources. "Take as much time as you need and use any of the soaps you want. I'll put some clothes on the bed for you. Just throw your briefs in the bathroom bin," Sarah said and left.

I looked in the bathroom mirror, the first time I saw myself after the accident. I looked terrible. The haircut was ugly, of course, but the uneven stain stains all over my body made me look tan and dirty. Like I had spent all day riding a dirt bike in mud, not the last ten minutes being blasted by ice water. I looked as beaten and spent as I felt.

By "any of the soaps" she meant the Axe Total Fresh 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that there were four opened bottles of in various places in the bathroom. Somehow Casy managed to both have a messy bathroom without having much in it. The water felt like a blessing on my cold, bruised body. I just stood there for a while, letting the warm water rinse me. Then I lathered myself completely and rinsed off three times in a row. Neither the foam nor the water looked discolored, and when I dried myself with the one towel in the room it didn't become stained. The image in the mirror however looked disappointingly identical to before. The same stained me, but now with a more acute headache. Everything smelled like Axe Total Fresh, and it did my head no favors.

I peeked into Casy's room. No one was there and the door to the rest of the house was shut, so I entered and looked at the clothes laid out for me on the bed. Only one of each, so no options. First black compression boxers with a wide Nike band. Then a pair of green-brown socks that looked like what the army issues. Some lightly distressed blue jeans with a black leather belt. A military green Under Armour T-shirt in a glossy material with "patriotic" print with stars and almost-US flags on it. A hunting camo baseball cap. Finally a pair of well-worn leather boots. I put it all on, including the hat to cover the ugly hair and the boots because I wasn't sure what the indoor etiquette here was. Everything fit surprisingly well, though I guess she could have looked at the size of my ruined clothes.

I opened the door and stepped out of the room, trying to find Sarah, or anyone really. How long had I been in the shower? Probably an hour, if not longer. "Hello?" "We're over here," I heard Sarah shout from across the house. I walked in the direction of her voice and was soon joined by Cliff who emerged from another room. "How are you feeling, buddy?" he asked in a concerned fatherly manner. "I think I'm about to have an episode of migraine." "That something you've had before." "Never."

"Take your seats. You over here Brad," Sarah said as we turned the corner into a large kitchen with a table laid for four. "Bud... eh, Bradly." I tried to correct her, but she had turned to the big cast iron pot on the stove. Casy already sat by the table with a phone in his hand, but his eyes were firmly on me. His face didn't reveal any expressions.

Sarah placed the heavy pot on the table and with a big ladle filled my plate with a dark stew. "Here you go, Bud," she said. As the smell of beef stock, fresh herbs, carrots, onions, and slow cooked, rich meat reached my nose I immediately recognized the telltales. Weakening of the jaw. The increase in saliva. I almost threw myself out of the chair, rushed over to the sink, and managed just in time to throw up into the sink. I realized I was sweating. Then another heave of vomit. "Oh, poor buddy," Sarah said and patted my back.  "Here, drink this," she said and filled a glass of water from a pitcher. My body heaved a third time, but nothing came out. "Thanks," I replied and took the glass with some apprehension, waiting to see if my body would do something else. Once it appeared safe I took the glass and started to empty it.

"Casy, make one of them shakes for him. He needs to get something in his belly." Almost reluctantly, like I had ruined his meal, Casy got up and moved towards a cupboard. "I just need to rest I think," I said, my head now mercilessly pounding in pain. "Out of the question. You need something to fortify you."

Casy quickly scooped powder from a large plastic container into a workout shaker bottle thing, poured in some water, gave it a quick shake, and handed it to me. I had barely put it to my mouth when Cliff said "He can barely stand. Take him to your room for a nap." "Come then," Casy said and led the way out of the kitchen, with me following sipping the chalky mixture. "You know the way though," he said once out of earshot from the kitchen. Back inside his room he motioned at the bed and said "This is a bed," deadpan to me. I wanted to say it wasn't my fault his day was ruined. In fact, mine had gone way worse than his, but my head hurt too much for me to care. "Thanks." I put my back on the bed and was out in seconds.

The hard plastic of the ear protectors was what made me wake up properly, and it took a moment to realize what it was and get them off. Almost ripped the cap off with them. These were the radio/bluetooth kind that allowed you to listen to music while you worked. Bright, orange colored cups with the rest of it black. I got up from the bed and left them on the sheets. Apparently I was already fully dressed, so I headed to the kitchen. Sarah was there preparing things.

"Mornin' Ma'am." "Good morning, Buddy." I took my seat. Sarah filled a bowl with porridge, drizzled honey over it, set it on the table in front of me together with a spoon. "Better hurry. Cliff is waiting for you." "Yes, Ma'am."

It wasn't until I began eating I realized how hungry I was, so it wasn't a problem to be quick. Not having seconds though felt rough. Just outside the house was Cliff, doing something with a quad to which he had hooked a trailer full of wooden poles. "Mornin', Sir" "Morning Buddy! Get up in the trailer and make sure nothing shakes out while we drive down the fields. "Yes, Sir."

Once we came to a stop after a bumpy ride, Cliff showed me how to operate the earth drill to make holes, then how to insert a pole, and with the sledge hammer drive it down so it fit securely. He then let me do that while he was working on putting up wires for the electric fence. After we had been at it for quite a while Sarah called on the walkie-talkie and said sheriff Miller wanted to talk to us. We unhooked the trailer and drove up to the farm on the quad, me sitting behind Cliff, straddling him.

Outside the main house Sarah and the sheriff waited for us. It was mostly a boring conversation between Cliff and the sheriff that I tuned out of, but then the sheriff turned to me and asked "And who is this?" "It's Buddy, farmhand for the summer," Cliff answered and took a slight step to the side to give room for the sheriff. The sheriff looked me over for a second. "You were here yesterday?" "Yes, Sir." "Did you see anyone come by yesterday afternoon or evening?" "No, Sir." "Anything else out of the ordinary happened yesterday?" "Yes, Sir. I threw up, Sir. Hasn't happened in years, Sir." "Hahaha." He turned to Cliff again. "If anything comes up let me know. It's not the first traveler that's gotten lost around here, but they usually turn up sooner or later." "They have a habit of doing that, causing extra work for the local sheriff while they are wandering about," Cliff answered, smiling back. The sheriff shook his head and opened his car door. "You ain't wrong."

Once the car was well on its way up the dirt road Sarah motioned at cooler that was on the ground. "I was about to come down with lunch to you boys, but perhaps you want to eat it up here." "Yeah, let's take a breather. This was a close call." Cliff opened a small tool bag that was hanging on the quad and pulled out another pair of orange ear protectors, if not the same as earlier. He turned the knob on them and put them on my head. Noise was sloshing around in my ears like waves breaking on a beach. Voices were whispering all around me. It was impossible to focus on a single voice and hear its message. Just a school of slippery tadpoles swimming around and around. Impossible to grab. Somewhere far in the distance I could hear Cliff talking.

"Let's go even harder with the programming. We don't need him cognisant for the rest of the day."

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

"Silence!"

 Kalego is not used to working in noise. And at the same time, he is used to shouting his favorite "silence!" even when it is not quite appropriate. And you… You just couldn't sit still.

Kalego knew what he was agreeing to when he got married. He knew what kind of demon his partner was, whom he had chosen, as he hoped, for the rest of his life. Perhaps this loud personality caught his attention once (not in a good way), and gradually falling in love with the demon came to terms with the fact that there is someone so loud and energetic next to him.

And yet... it was impossible to work like this!

 Kalego sat and checked his students' homework. It was evening, and he wanted to get it over with and get back to you, his spouse. After you moved in with him, Naberius slept next to you every night and only fell asleep when he touched your body. (Well, or you've touched his. The main thing is physical contact). The demon couldn't remember the last time he fell asleep without his arm, wing, or tail wrapped around you.

It looks like the same thing happened to you. Otherwise, how do you explain the fact that you came to him even though you should have had the tenth dream? You rather loudly (not intentionally) rustled your slippers on the floor and sat down on the sofa, next to your husband's desk. You held your tail to your legs and watched Kalego work, but it didn't last long as the demon turned to you with a tired but loving expression.

–Can't you sleep, (Y/N)? – he asked softly, feeling all the stress he had accumulated from checking his homework evaporate just by looking at you.

–What do you think? – you chuckled and gave him a cheeky smile. – How can I sleep soundly when no one is throwing their legs over me and trying to sniff my neck?

–As if you were against it, – he turned away from you and continued to write. – I'll be done in about half an hour, you should go back to bed."

–How can I sleep when my handsome husband is working? – you walked over to the demon and put your arms around his shoulders, pressing your lips to his temple. – I'll wait until you're done.

–(Y/N), I love you, but if you keep interrupting me, I won't be able to complete everything in half an hour as planned.

Despite the words, he turned to plant a small kiss on your lips. You giggled and kissed his face, whispering how much you loved Kalego.

You've always been so... loud, energetic and loving, emotional. Was it related to your ancestral magic? Or with your character? Naberius had no idea, back then he just wanted you to finally stop talking, shut up and let him learn.

Gradually, your behavior started to seem a little less annoying to Kalego. It took him many years to start finding more pros than cons in your high-profile personality, and in the end, he was so successful that he married you.

–Kalego-o-o, you need to sleep more! – you were whining in his ear, jerking the demon back and forth in your arms. – Why don't you just join me in bed? I'll hold you and tell you stories until you fall asleep in my arms…

–(Y/N), I need to work, – he quickly kissed you on the cheek and moved away from you. You seduced him too much... in different ways. – I'll come to you as soon as I'm done.

–Then I'll wait for you here as planned!

You walked away from him and plopped down on the couch with a loud and displeased sound. Naberius rolled his eyes, sighed, and continued his work. Just looking at the scribbled papers brought his bad mood back. His class today once again caused problems for the whole school, and Kalego was forced to deal with all this! And then he was forced to stay even longer!..

You quickly became bored, and therefore you began to twitch back and forth, which made the sofa creak. You sighed, touched the upholstery loudly, and swished your tail… Of course, you didn't do all these actions on purpose. But… it all annoyed Kalego so much!

 Naberius always worked in silence (at least as long as he was given the opportunity). He usually managed to finish all his tasks before you got home from work, but this time he didn't succeed... the demon turned to you and almost felt ashamed when you looked at him with hopeful eyes.

–(Y/N), can you be... quiet? – he asked, as gently as he could. – You're interrupting my work.

–Oh, I-I'm sorry! – you froze and laughed awkwardly. – I'll try not to move again. Oh, I'll go and water your cacti for now!

You ran off to the bathroom and Kalego had five minutes of silence. He hadn't managed to do much in that time. When you came back, stomping loudly again, and started watering the flowers, the demon's eye twitched. Was it due to lack of sleep? Or because he had to stay late at work because of the fault of his beloved boss? Naberius didn't know. But he knew he was going to throw something at you! (Just like when he was at school).

Kalego loved when you were chatting with his cacti. That was one of the reasons he fell in love with you. You cared so much for his little plants, always telling them about your day, the good news, and telling them to grow tall, healthy, and beautiful! Sometimes the demon would stop in the doorway to the living room and watch in silence as you chatted with his cacti, not seeing your husband genuinely enjoying himself.

But now... why do you have to speak now?!

–Oh, son, you've grown so much! Soon you will have such a cute flower blooming! You'll make your parents happy, won't you?

Your whisper, full of tenderness, just now seemed like a cry to Kalego. He usually found it cute that you were hanging out with your "son" - that is, the cactus you gave Naberius when you declared your love for him. Your careful attitude to the plant made Kalego remember his youth and think about how to expand his family... in one way or another.

But right now, your words sounded like the sound you make when you run your claws across a green chalk board. The demon couldn't take it anymore.

 Kalego turned to you to ask you to leave. You've been with him long enough to understand him and not be offended. (And even if you're offended, he'll make it up to you as soon as he gets back to your bed.) But instead of a calm and quite a bit irritated "(Y/N), please, you're interrupting my work", you heard a well-worked out for years:

–SILENCE!

You froze, almost dropping the watering can. Your eyes suddenly filled with tears at the sharp cry from your husband. Your heart ached and beat faster, and you hid your eyes in shame. You were so nervous when you confessed your love to him that the cactus almost flew out of your hands. Therefore, Kalego was not surprised that you were ready to cry at his harsh and loud words.

Your miserable face caused the demon to mentally slap himself on the forehead. He didn't want to yell at you like he did at his students! He did it out of habit! Still, it couldn't be used as an excuse.

You stood up and awkwardly mumbled an apology. You were always running too fast, so Kalego had to work hard to catch up with you. He stomped down the hall and almost fell on top of you to hold you in his arms. You swung your legs and squeezed your eyes shut, causing tears to fall from your eyes.

Your husband... never spoke like that to you. If he didn't like how energetic you were, he would either sigh and roll his eyes or ask you to be quiet. You've never heard him yell at you. Perhaps this time you went too far? Maybe you really should have gone to bed…

–(Y/N), I…

–I-it's fine! – you were dangling in his tight embrace, trying to get out. – I-I really can be too loud and emotional a lot... uh, I should have left you alone…

 Kalego hugged you even tighter and held you close with a sigh. Sometimes he was surprised by your energy, but it was because of the way you took every event to heart and always reacted emotionally to it that the demon's life was so much brighter than it could have been. In addition, every time you laughed too loudly or enthusiastically talked about your favorite things, his heart was filled with warmth, love and calm, even if at that moment you shook him with delight and shouted almost in his ear.

 Kalego leaned down and covered your wet, salty cheeks with kisses. You tried to move away from him, muttering apologies, but Naberius wouldn't let you. He made you turn around to face him, but you immediately hid in his clothes. The demon grunted as you clutched at his home T-shirt, clearly not wanting him to go anywhere.

Your husband put his arm around you and pressed his face to your neck. You rubbed your cheek against his bare skin in embarrassment and made a pitiful kitten sound. Kalego turned his head and covered your cheek with kisses until you stopped breathing raggedly, sobbing constantly, until your heart stopped beating so loudly and fast, as if hitting his chest.

–Have you calmed down? – you nodded, still not looking up at him. – (Y/N), are you ready to talk to me like an adult demon?

–W-what should we talk about? I-I realized I was interrupting your work. Um... s-sorry to distract you…

–(Y/N), I just want you to know that I'm not mad, – he rubbed the top of your head with his cheek.

–Are you sure?

–At least not enough to yell at you like that. I should have... asked you to calm down in a more... acceptable way.

You looked into his eyes and then pressed your lips to his. Your tail whizzed back and forth before you pulled away from him and wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him closer to you.

–I'm sorry, Kalego-o-o. I won't make any more noise and interfere with your work. But you have to promise me that I can sit next to you until you're done! I promise I won't move an inch!

–You don't need so much to be happy, – he chuckled. – Come with me…

He picked you up easily and dragged you back to the living room. Leaving you on the couch, he went to the table he usually used when he was sitting up in bed reading a book. (He was putting a lamp on it.) Naberius sat down on the sofa and called you over. While he was putting the papers on a wooden surface, you crawled under the object without any problems and lay down on your husband's chest. (Previously, you couldn't do this because the blanket always got in the way.)

You hugged Kalego and closed your eyes with a happy purr. The demon couldn't help but chuckle at your behavior. You hurriedly looked up at him and returned his gaze with delight.

–I love any expression of your joy so much!

–Sleep, – and he closed your eyelids with his fingers.

 Kalego continued to check your homework while you were napping peacefully on his lap. Tomorrow, you'll definitely be chatting with him nonstop, sticking to him and telling him that you missed him, even though he just didn't fall asleep with you in the same place at the same time.

 Kalego didn't like noisy demons. But everything changed when you got involved.

 Naberius magically put away the documents and looked down at you, who was sleeping on his lap. He patted your head and called your name softly. You opened your eyes and stared at him sleepily before sitting down, hugging your husband and murmuring how much you love him.

The demon smiled happily and kissed you on the cheek before picking you up and carrying you to bed. It's time to give you your obligatory hugs and send you to the realm of dreams.

[19joo]

It took me a while (like, years haha) before gathering the courage to post this. I've been writing but I don't usually post them publicly. If anyone here has read til the end, please let me know how I did. >_<

Our Last Night

[MCxJake]

"Do you really have to go?", I asked Jake as he is preparing to leave our hideout and run from his pursuers.

He sat in the bed beside me, leaned in closer, and took my hands. "It's gonna be alright. I'll come back as soon as I can. Once we get this over and done with, I'm never leaving your side again. I promise." He gave me the most reassuring look he could. I can only do nothing else but sigh. I know him too well now to see the uncertainty he's trying to mask from his eyes.

We both knew at this point that a desirable outcome is far-fetched. Nevertheless, I chose to hold on. I needed to. Otherwise, I won't have any other reason to keep going.

It's not that I didn't see it coming. I just hope things had never gone to this. Now that Hannah is safe and sound, all that's left is Jake's freedom.

After the Duskwood ordeal, Jake told me everything I needed to know about him. Apparently, we live in the same country, which is currently being ruled by the most corrupt set of government officials. It all began with Jake discovering a sketchy deal between a certain governmemt official and a foreign pharmaceutical company, which turned out to be our country's president. One discovery led to another, and now their organization has obtained a concrete proof that this heck of a useless corrupt "leader" has manipulated the election results.

It was all going so well. Jake's discoveries has been made known to the public. People were enraged, and started demanding justice. However, this government is a difficult group to get involved with.

We are now fighting for our freedom, and we have never been this close. We worked so hard for this. I am willing to do anything, but losing Jake is just a price I just couldn't afford to pay.

Before meeting everyone, I was merely existing. I've been going through the motions for as long as I can remember. I waited everyday for my life to end, because I couldn't end it myself. My body felt like an empty shell moving on its own.

I remember just blankly staring at my bedroom ceiling, contemplating between getting out of bed or going back to sleep again. I reached to my phone and scrolled at the piling messages I haven't replied to in weeks when I received that text message from Thomas. I don't know what got to me, but the urge to reply at his message was strong. When I saw how desperate they were on trying to find Hannah, I decided to sign myself up. Better do something worthwhile for once in my life, I thought.

As we went further, I noticed things gradually changing. I couldn't point out exactly when, but days eventually stopped being as monotonous as they used to. For the first time in ages, I had something to look forward to. The hollow void inside me began to be filled up with a sense of purpose, most of which I can attribute to this hacker who, for some reason, I began trusting with my entire being despite not being able to know a lot about. I don't know how he did it. He is so enigmatic, yet familiar. Despite everything, I never really felt the need to know everything about him. That must have been me going crazy — but I didn't care. When it came to him, things need not to make sense as long as they felt right. I never connected with anyone else the way I did with him.

The day he went into hiding from his pursuers was the day I fully realized can't live again without him in my life. Right then and there, I was finally able to genuinely want something for myself. We could have stopped upon finding Hannah, but I want him to be something more than a stranger I met in the pursuit of trying to save another. I want to be by his side. At the back of my mind, I knew this madness would likely be the death of me, but I'd happily accept my fate if it meant I could be with him.

Damn it. I feel so powerless.

"Maybe this wouldn't have happened had I not been too greedy. Maybe this is me being punished for trying to get what I can't have." I sobbed. "It's not too late, Jake. We can still back out now." I pleaded.

"Don't be hard on yourself. I chose this. It's my fault you got into this mess. I know I might regret this, but I won't ever forgive myself for not even trying to fight for you — for us." His pleading eyes met mine as he pulled me into a tight hug. "Trust me, please?"

He kissed my hand. "Our time is running out. I have to go."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[danganphobia]

i think because laios and shuro’s clashes in personalities it’s unavoidable that they will fight during their relationship. who do you think would be the first one to reach out first after a fight? (this is just an attempt to make you write angsty hurt + comfort laishuro)

DRABBLE INCOMING!

Toshiro wasn't sure how many beers he had tonight. He sat next to other patrons, the number of guests dwindling as the hours passed. He just wanted to get so drunk he wouldn't have to experience a sober thought until the next morning.

This bar was quiet, two blocks away from their university campus - compared to the ones on the flashier side of town where most students went on Friday and Saturday nights to party hard and forget about responsibilities for the weekend.

For Toshiro, beers sounded more tempting than any club to wash away the stress of exams and back-to-back assignments.

When he asked for another refill, his vision started to blur. Next thing he knew, he heard another voice within earshot.

"He's been here for the past three hours."

"Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

"Uh, that's kind of you, but he's already paid for the whole night."

"Then I'll tip you extra."

Toshiro groaned, facepalming. He didn't have to look to know who it was that just showed up. Laios leaned his body against the counter, trying to peek at his face.

"Kabru said you'd be here."

Saying nothing, Toshiro finished his last beer.

Laios' carried him back to campus on piggyback. It's silent, save for the occasional cars driving through.

"Why did you come?" Toshiro asked stubbornly, the alcohol he drank made him lightheaded. If it weren't for Laios, he'd be unable to walk - but the idiot didn't need to know that. Just two weeks ago, Toshiro remembered storming out of that party Namari and Kabru invited him to, with Laios following after him, asking what his problem was, and everyone outside looking on in curiosity.

"My problem?" Toshiro had asked, sneering. "Don't you see it? This - we - doesn't work! I'm sick of it! All I ever get are stares when I tell them-"

"You're with me," Laios finished with a bitter nod, stopping Toshiro in his tracks. "If you're that embarrassed to be with me, why didn't you say so?"

That was the killer. When Toshiro noticed the eyes on them, Laios staring right at him with disappointment and hurt, Toshiro decided to admit defeat. He had only given a sour apology, leaving the party without another word.

They hadn't talked to each other since then. Toshiro stopped coming to club meetings because he didn't want to risk running into Laios, and unfortunately, Laios was always present. It was fine, their campaign could go on without Toshiro considering where they'd left off anyway.

"Why did I come?" Laios repeated the question, exhaling as he contemplated his answer. "I don't know, actually."

This was why Toshiro couldn't stand him sometimes. He was a very logical person. This was how he was raised, otherwise he'd never be fit to be heir of his father's company. Laios Touden didn't need a reason to do the things he did.

"I don't get it," Toshiro mumbled. This should make him a walking red flag, after all. This was the guy who was known for smoking pigs at clubs, did kegstands at frat parties, and could squirt milk out his eyelids for the hell of it. He was the kind of guy that would make a pristine rich kid's parents like Toshiro's have a heart attack if Laios told them what he'd been up to. They were polar opposites; someone Toshiro would've avoided if it weren't for their mutual friends. "After everything I said to you, you still came to see me."

"Yeah." Laios said, like there was nothing odd about it. It only pissed Toshiro off even more.

"Why?"

"I can't just leave you there. What if you passed out in the middle of the street?"

Toshiro snorted, scoffing. "You are aware that I practice martial arts?"

Laios laughed. "I don't doubt you can probably kick my ass while drunk. Then again, you didn't." Instead, Toshiro was clinging to his back, Laios' cyprus scent calmed him, as it was so welcoming. He hated that. It should make him nauseous if anything. "I can't say for any other stranger that would see you this vulnerable."

"I can take care of myself," Toshiro huffed. "You shouldn't have come."

"I don't care if you're mad at me, because I've already forgiven our fight."

"That's - that's preposterous -" Toshiro sputtered in defense, "Why continue to torment yourself by being seen with me?"

Laios chuckled. "Who said being with you was tormenting?"

Toshiro stayed quiet.

"You might think so, so I'll just have to prove myself to you. Lucky for me, I don't really care what people think," Laios explained, pausing at a stop light. Toshiro's eyes widened when Laios turned his head slightly with a gentle smile. "And you shouldn't either."

Toshiro's heart pounded in his chest. The traffic sign flashed - as Laios was permitted to cross the street.

"Yeah, you were an asshole at that party. But at the end of the day, it doesn't change my feelings for you. I think," Laios sighed, "if you like someone, if you really really like someone, you should let them know as much as you can."

Toshiro reached for Laios' ear and tugged on it.

"Ack!" The noise Laios' made in pain just made Toshiro pull on it tighter until he let go. "What was that for?!" He asked, pouting.

"It's easy for you to say," Toshiro said bitterly. "I've spent my whole life trying to live up to the expectations of others. I don't just do impulsive, stupid things out of my own free will. Which is why - I don't even understand why I have feelings for you, either..."

"Toshiro..."

"I am not worth this trouble. You misguide yourself."

"That's not true," Laios countered in earnest. "Tell yourself that all you want, but to me, you're worth it."

Silent and brooding, Toshiro buried his neck deep into the crook of Laios' shoulder to hide the scarlet in his cheeks.

Laios was like a leech that wouldn't pull himself off Toshiro even if Toshiro tried.

And he'd never admit how nice it felt, to be around someone who didn't expect much from him; just his presence, so they could exist together in a world so unpredictable. The air felt easier to breathe the longer they remained, just being.

[lexinoctura]

Rant incoming!

Okay, so I apologize for my language in the following post, and I disclaim that I have NOT seen the entire show, but only a compilation on YouTube and read the summarizes on Fandom.com

So, be warned, because this is going to be ugly!

I fucking LOVE the book series Vampire Academy by Richelle Mead.

I read them in English and in German, I have the audiobooks in both languages and the comics to it. I recently read the best FanFiction I have ever read about my favorit ship Rose/Dimitri (Romitri) called "The Ties that Bind Us" by @hiccuppedstudio , and it is one of the very, very few books, shows or movies where I don't have the burning need to write a fix-it, because the books are perfect in my eyes.

I liked the movie from 2014 well enough, even though it was a bit faster than the books. I can understand that and I fully accept that.

What i can't and won't understand and accept is that bullshit motherfucking series from 2022 which I just masochistically (otherwise i have no explanation why I sat through those 7min) skimmed on YouTube.

And don't get me wrong, it is not because they decided to cast people that don't look like the characters from the book. I couldn't care less if I can vibe with them and the story.

BUT, and here comes my full-blown inner Rumpelstizken out to play, what I HATE is when they not slightly change a plot, but fuck the entire thing up with no shame or decency or honor or respect for the source material what so ever!

you CAN'T put the content of 5 (i don't know if they added the sixth as well) books into 10 episodes, no matter how long they are.

you CAN'T try to establish characters, a forbidden romance, a stalker and kidnapper, a very traumatic death of your best friend, the murder of your ship, the 'I have to go and kill the man I love', the restoration of that man and the murdering of the leader of that society within 10 fucking episodes, just to end it with a: \(o.o)/ meh

you CAN'T just fuck something out of existence that is as vital as Dimitri's restoration and redemption to the entire plot of the fifth and sixth book because of… reasons.

you CAN'T just kick out a turn of events (Dimitri turning Strigoi and Rose going to Siberia to kill him, and everything that it entails) when it is THAT VITAL to not only three books, but also to the character development of ALL THE MAIN CHARACTERS!

I fuck you not, I have another ten reasons on what that shitshow of a show fucked up, but I fear that if I go on, I'll bit into my screen, and I am not even exaggerating!

Now, seriously, who the FUCK decided to do that!? The books are awesome – like I said – and I can only recommend them to each and every one who likes BAMF main character, and doesn't automatically think that vampire means sparkling disco ball!

BUT! The show was not made for the 'normal' consumers; it was made for the fans, because the books are relatively old (2007 was the first volume released) and the producers/directors/screenwriters dared to try and sell us shit on a paper plate and then asked us to clap

[starsarefire824]

Byler Fic Recs

I haven't posted some fic recs in a while so I thought I would!

Here are some ones I love:

In Undertow (M) by olliecoddle (@souverian-are-we): This is my favorite thing I'm reading right now. It's. Just. So. Good.

The Wheeler’s lakehouse was a two-story wooden building with white siding and blue shutters on each of the little windows. It sat on the edge of a large blue-green lake, a long backyard full of tall tufted grass that ended in a wooden dock extending out over the water. Will had been to the Wheeler’s lakehouse twice as a child, once when he was eight and again when he was sixteen. Now, he was twenty-nine and pulling up to the long driveway of the house in his beaten-up Ford Escort, his stomach in nervous knots that he was trying to calm with a half-full can of ginger ale.

or, four months after one byers/wheeler couple breaks up, another gets married. and, of course, will and mike are both the best men. and, of course, there is a plot to get them back together. nothing goes to plan.

one soft infested summer (M) by wheelersboy (@lucasvenkman)" The Stoned Byler to ever be stoned. And it's sexy and emotional and just delicious summer vibes. And I'll forever be thankful for the Director's Cut. 😉

The Party spend their last summer before college together at Summerfest in Milwaukee. Oh yeah, and they're stoners.

My Teeth In Your Neck (T) by @foodiewithdahoodie: Boarding school, sexual tension, and fencing. It's dope.

Mike and Will used to be friends. Best friends! But after one fight they couldn't come back from during the summer, they haven't spoken to each other since. The only time they cross paths is on the piste, with epee swords brandished, as fencing rivals for their opposing boarding schools - Hawkins High vs Lenora Hills Prep. This year is no different, except it kind of is. Something pulls them together and this time they can't escape it. Because there's no Mike without Will and there's no Will without Mike. Simple as that.

the strawberries are dying (T) by @eggowls Rated T: the world needs more historical au Byler fics, and this one is perfect. Beautifully written and an interesting premise. I have to catch up on this one.

At the height of the stock market crash, the Wheelers are the richest family in Roane County and in need of domestic servants to fulfill their estate's needs. In a bout of desperation, they end up hiring the Byers family, much to everyone’s (except Nancy’s, who has a crush on Jonathan) chagrin.

However, in the midst of it all, two outcasted young boys from completely different lives find a light in each other. And—slowly—their lives begin to intertwine to the point of no return.

need, lie, mean, cry (T) by @willow-lark: a good shorty fic with lots of angst!

Nobody needs Mike Wheeler. He probably wouldn't be so mad about it if Will hadn't lied and made him think otherwise.

Let's Go Crazy Together (but not like this) (M) by Julia_Skysong: Byler hate each other and end up sharing a room at rehab. It's awkward. I'm only halfway through, but I'm loving it.

Anger, fear, trauma, grief. One turned to alcohol. One turned to drugs. Now, somehow, they've ended up sharing a room at the same mental hospital. Will and Mike are stuck, forced to work through their issues together, for better or for worse.

things i can't say (T) by @chiquitablanquita. Switched notebook trope, my beloved. I really liked the writing here.

Will’s sketches contain a confession: he’s in love with his best friend. Unfortunately, his best friend’s journal looks a lot like his sketchbook.

If You Stay (M) by Flurryofstarz. A The Proposal AU, Byler edition. It's fucking cute. Impatiently awaiting an update.

Faced with the threat of deportation, career-oriented Mike Wheeler says he's engaged to his hapless assistant, Will Byers. Will commits to the lie while imposing a few conditions of his own. With a skeptical immigration official waiting for them to slip up, the two must work together to fool their friends and families into believing that their once-strained relationship has since evolved into true love.

But what happens when they start to believe the lie too?

Or, the fic inspired by the enemies-to-lovers rom-com, The Proposal (2009).

he could be a bee to a blossom (E) by anonymous: I loooveed the writing. Truly a Tragedy that it's anonymous.

Mike reached down and grabbed something. He was seated on the edge of the bed, curled towards him with his knee resting near Will’s pillow. He had a carton of freshly washed and cut fruit in his hand. “I already went to the grocery store and got, like, a million things. We could probably shelter in place here for a month and a half.”

Mike said it in a way that was not remotely sexy, but it still made something in Will’s stomach heat. He almost felt like purring, kneading his hands into the mattress with satisfaction. [My alpha got that for me. My alpha is making sure I’m healthy and hydrated. My alpha is taking such good care of me.]

A record scratch went off in Will’s head. Christ alive, Mike was NOT his alpha.

(A/B/O AU… And they were roommates!)

Be mine through the Hawkinspocalypse (and I'll be yours forever) (E) by TikaWayward: I love this whole series. It's unique and sexy and well written.

Mike was long. Long frame extended in a stretch. Long limbs shaking from exhaustion. Long fingers clenched around ripped sheets. Long hair damp with sweat, sticking to his long pale nape and freckled shoulders. Even his back seemed long as he tensed. Will had to commit this view to memory, engrave it in his mind forever. Even if it was the only time they ever shared such intimacy, even if Mike had only asked him for help because he was there, familiar, convenient, and they needed his heat to stop as soon as possible. There are goddamned monsters out there Will, I can’t be in heat right now, I can’t! He needed to revere this moment.

Mike truly was the most beautiful creature Will had laid his eyes on. __________________________________________________________________

Or Mike presents as an omega in the middle of his patrol with Will in a monster infested forest.

The Best Ever Death Metal Band Out of Hawkins (M) by olliecoddle (@souverian-are-we): uhmmmmm, I'm obsessed with this. Rock star angsty Byler.

Will had the same pre-show ritual before every gig he ever performed. About twenty minutes before he had to go on stage, he would lock himself in any confined space he could find. In a bathroom stall, his dressing room, the maintenance closet, he would turn off the lights and hide for a few minutes. Today, though, it was five minutes before he had to go on stage, the clock ticking down, and he had spent the last half hour wandering around the venue looking for Mike Wheeler.

Will needed to talk to him.

or, the party has a band. will and mike make out on stage. for the bit, of course. it causes problems.

I’m a Wreck (Without You Here) (M) by @talkingtothelights. I'm only on the first chapter but it's so heartbreaking and emotional. Good shit.

Mike has been living 2,200 miles away from his family and hometown for the past fourteen years. He rarely visits, but when he receives heartbreaking news, he’s forced to return home for a funeral. It’s in this unfortunate chapter of life that Mike must come to terms with the consequences of abruptly running away from home and perhaps reconnect with the one person he’s tried his damnedest to forget about.

not strong enough to be your man (T) by @perexcri. The prose is fucking beautiful. I really enjoyed this one.

He swallows down a flurry of all the things he wants to say – every moment and untold truth and aching thought that’s bruised his mind for years – but it comes out so plain, so stark and oddly-jagged in the silence following the lighting, taking up space where thunder should be:

“I meant it, Will. You’re not an inconvenience.”

Will shakes his head and turns.

Mike wants to feel like he's meaningful, like he's an active part of his own life - worthwhile.

It's a good thing Will needs him now more than ever.

Right?

Make Believe (E) by FlurryofStarz. One of all time favorites. Amazing slow burn and super interesting a/b/o dynamics. Mike centric. I cannot wait until the plot point I think is going to happen is revealed. 👀

There's absolutely no way to know what a person will present as ahead of time, but Mike's never been more certain about something in his life. Will Byers is going to be an Omega--a male Omega--and the second that happens, he'll lose everything. Some knothead Alpha like Troy or James will claim him as their own and no one will be able to stop them. Luckily, the Party has a plan. It might be complicated and unconventional. It might not even be legal, but it's something and that's all Will really needs. Something. And Mike's more than willing to try it if it means saving Will.

But what if Will isn't the one who needs saving?

*** if you’re listed here and want to be tagged let ms know!

[roughribo]

What are the rules you give your sub? How do you punish her if she disobeys?

I give my sub a lot of rules, so I wouldn't even be able to list them all here. We both like having a list of rules because it provides clarity we can reference, something we value. Can she do that? Can she say this? Depends on what the rules say. Our list of rules is also a living document, it will change and grow with our relationship as we need it too.

I'll share a small sample of some of the rules I give my sub but we do like our privacy. The actual document and the style in which it's written is very sentimental to us and won't be shared here. And as a disclaimer they are rules customized for our needs and our relationship.

Our first rule is actually something we both follow: being honest and truthful with each other, not hiding things, or otherwise deceiving.

Another rule is about how we want her obedience and my leadership to work (i.e. if I give an order she follows it).

Another rule discusses my right as a dom to invoke punishments or discipline because of a rule breaking if I feel it necessary.

And another rule is about how safewords, safe signals, and safe objects are necessary and how to use them.

And yet another rule is about how she's not allowed to sit in this one specific chair of mine because I decided that's how it's going to be and we like how that symbolizes the power disparity between us.

Some of these rules I think of as 'hard rules' and I would punish her for breaking them. If she sat in my chair or was lying to me about something (she'd never), I would punish and follow up with discipline if needed to correct the behavior.

Other rules are 'soft rules' like if she didn't safeword when she knew she needed to, that's technically against the rules. But I wouldn't punish her for that ever. EVER. I'd have a discussion exploring what happened and we talk it out so we can try to avoid such an event happening again. That rule is a soft rule and it's there to make sure we have a standard for doing things safely.

Other rules, like her water rule, have no punishment but it does have a reward for consistently following it. I always recommend giving subs rules that have rewards instead of punishments, especially if it's rewarding the consistency for following the rule. It's a nice challenge for them. 'Teaches patience and builds character to work towards something' as the dad from Calvin and Hobbes would say.

Punishments vary and it's very rare I ever have to punish her, she really likes having someone else make all the rules and she just follows them so well it makes me so freaking proud. 🥰 And she's realistic and lets me know if a rule seems unfeasible or if something needs tweaked. Stuff like writing lines, me lecturing her, corner time, and spankings are all on the table for punishments.

I just make sure the punishments match the crime, the discipline sticks better that way in my personal opinion. A sub is sure to remember the taste of soap if they even think about saying a dirty word they were punished for saying before, for example. Hell I just wrote a whole post about using her mouth if she got mouthy with me to make a point about what she can and can't use her mouth for. Make sure the punishment fits the crime.

A small slap on the ass or the wrist with a firm look can also serve as an easy reminder/warning that they're getting close to breaking a rule and that can straighten their attitude right up.

There's always flexibility about the rules. Something could have been misinterpreted or life happens and we're dealing with hardships like grieving that make it hard to function, let alone keep up with the dynamic. So it's important to have leniency with rules based on the context and what we both are going through at the time.

It's also very important to me I don't try to force rules about my sub's mental health. That's very serious territory that involves their psyche and if my partner needed it, we would seek out a mental health professional for expertise in navigating that as opposed to trying to change unhealthy mental health habits with bdsm rules.

[pipileo]

A Fictional Short Story.

I was bored late at night so instead of sleeping, I wrote this thing. Maybe reading enthusiasts will read this and go "neat." Enjoy.

CW: References to... Cannibalism? I guess

"So. You're sure you want to sign up with us? We want to make it very clear that you probably won't be able to change your mind," the lady at the reception desk warned me. She slid me a clipboard and a slightly chewed blue ink pen, all while looking at me with a serious look on her face. "Make sure you think it through. Fill this out, and sign your name at the bottom. You may have a seat until you're done filling out the form."

She pointed me to the waiting area, where several other people willing to join this program were also signing out their own documents. A diverse waiting area, I thought to myself. I sat next to this one guy, since every other space already had someone writing their info on the form sitting in it. Plus, this guy didn't totally look like he was on the verge of mental collapse. Wish I could say the same.

Anyways, I sat next to this guy. He looked about as presentable as a hobo, I'd say. Without even talking to him, I came up with the prediction that this was a man who had only been on the streets for less than a week before coming over to a place like this, to escape the consequences of his actions from a stupid decision he made. His clothes weren't all that dirty, and neither was his wool, except maybe for a few dark spots on his hands. It all hinted towards him being new to the hobo game. I guessed that he might've fallen victim to the casinos, since he didn't have that "crack addict" look to him compared to the other people here.

I looked down at the form that was fastened to the clipboard. Skimming through the pages, yeah. It was clear what they were asking. There was no ambiguity, it was all crystal clear what you were getting yourself into. They asked about drug use, blood type, amount of exercise and weight, species. All of these correlated directly to the food the carnivores would be getting from us volunteers. I sighed, before placing the tip of the pen on the paper and beginning to fill everything out.

I was about halfway through the page when I sorta felt my mind starting to wander off the paper, staring at the man's hooved foot next to me. I sorta wanted to confirm my suspicions with him, and besides, who's it hurt to make a conversation? I tapped the guy on the shoulder. Once he looked towards me, I began to talk.

"What's got a guy like you here in this place?" I started, setting my pen down on the page.

I didn't get a response for a few seconds, but then he replied back with, "I just thought I should do this because... Well, what they're offering just seems too good to pass up. Who wouldn't want a chance to live in luxury, right?"

"You'd only be there for a few months, I think. But yeah. I understand. Never had a time in my life where my fridge was full. Always tried to manage three jobs, but with this new condition I got, it's just... not worth it anymore. I tried to buy myself some more time but, I think I- heh, I think I made it worse."

"Hm. What did you get?"

I sort of paused for a moment, going over what the doctors told me that fateful night a few weeks ago.

"Something with my skin. Whatever it was called slipped my mind, I guess. By the way, name's Kobou Sezak. Nice to meet you." I replied, reaching my hand out to the man.

"Nice to meet you, Kobou. You can call me Tufft." He replied, politely accepting the handshake. "And it's a shame. I feel bad for you, with your skin condition and all."

"Oh, don't be. I'm sure things will only be getting better from here."

"Amen to that, bunny boy. Can't wait to get into the program. I'll finally be able to let myself relax. It's been a rough few weeks."

"Feel free to elaborate, man. I'm listening. Big ears i've got, after all."

I finally began to resume filling out the form again. Otherwise, I'd be here all day, stuck in a room of people with stories worse than ours. I filled out the form a bit more as Tufft began to explain his own story leading up to today. Turns out I'm damn good at guessing. At least in broad definitions. Tufft had indeed been a newly made hobo, since he had bet (technically not gambled), his life savings on a race that cost him everything. He's apparently too shameful to get someone like his sister to come house him, because he didn't want her to see what he'd done. Especially since Tufft was older, and was supposed to be a role model to her. He'd rather be fed to the wolves before he'd come face to face with his family and admit his actions at the dinner table.

Me too, honestly. It seemed easier to me. All it took was a paper form and a contract to get sent to paradise until the end of your days. Anyways, eventually, Tufft and I said our goodbyes as we walked to the desk and handed in our forms and waited to be called in, one person at a time, into the other room. Tufft was called first, and for a while, I just sat and twiddled my fingers in silence, avoiding eye contact with the more messed-up looking people in the room. It felt like everyone was judging me for judging them. The whole room felt tense, as if an argument was about to break out at any moment.

When I reached the next room after being called on next, I was sat down at a table, with a doctor on the other side. They were much taller, which wasn't surprising in the slightest. Wolves, am I right? But it still made me want to consider changing my mind. Tall people freak me out.

"Alright, so, Mr. Sezak. Judging from the form, I'd say you'll have... maybe eight months max for the program. Our medical team will try to have your skin condition treated before your time is up so that your meat will be more suitable for consumption."

I sighed. Eight months is the time I had left. Well, I signed the form, so this is what I got. I nodded my head, accepting the decision I made in its entirety.

"Eight months. Got it." I replied.

"And just to remind you of everything you have agreed to, you, Kobou Sezak, belong to us now. You will live your remaining eight months in luxury, well-maintained facilities with high surveillance to ensure your pleasure, all without requiring to pay a single penny to our facilities, and at the end of your term, you will be euthanized and sent to butcher shops to feed and appease the predator population. You must follow all instructions given to you by our staff, regardless of whatever activities you may be partaking in, or reluctance to comply."

"God damn," I reacted, hopefully with plausible reasoning. "Uhm, I understand, sir."

"Good. Now, you will be making your way into the room directly across the hall, alright, Mr. Sezak? You will be given a permanent tattoo of our company's logo, and then you will be prepped up to live in our facilities. Enjoy your stay, and have a nice day."

I was about to say something, but then the doctor dismissed me and yelled out for the next person to be called in. I sucked it up, and left the room, heading across the hall to get a tattoo that symbolized my new life of luxury, as well as being a constant reminder of my choice for the rest of my eight months. Soon, I'll just be food on someone's plate. Morbid, really. But as long as it's better than what was out there, I shouldn't complain over such an opportunity. My body felt warm as I grabbed the handle to the next room. Goodbye, responsibilities. I'm living the lavish life now.

[frikatilhi]

For the fanfic ask game:

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

Oof. I sat on this for a while because... i dunno, I needed a think? Beware, it's going to get sappy and self indulgent.

I have no idea how the literature I've read has actually influenced my writing, even though the influence must be tremendous. I feel so bad that I read so little nowadays, especially now that my writing could use some boost, some filling of containers?

So instead of that, I'll just mention fanfic writers. I don't think anyone has influenced my writing style that much, per se? But ever since I started writing in this fandom, I've talked to so many amazing writers about headcanons, ideas, writing woes, encouragement, excitement, life... Apart from reader feedback it's the most important thing that's kept me going. This fandom is so full of amazing peeps I perish just thinking about it.

At first, I made @maladroitoracle beta for me even though she wasn't even in the fandom and all our talks and squees have honestly helped me through so many obstacles and slumps omg ily so so much 😭 So happy you finally gave in and surrendered your soul to Käärijä (I bet you are too, in the end 😝)

Just, everyone I've ever talked to should be mentioned here, but of course the people I've actually collabed with are the ones that have influenced me the most.

Jelena helped me with Bojan's character so so much at first and made me push through so many bad days; @mitochondriencocktail is the queen of nitpicking and writing advice that will make your writing so much better, always; @punanenmarli will forever be my ride or die for creating a whole universe with me that I can't stop thinking about and for bringing together a whole band of people just as insane about that AU's AU AU as we are; and @harmaanoita paved the way for writing fics in Finnish that really made me see that it is right and good.

The whole molemates gang is just so precious to me, you are seriously all so talented and amazing and unhinged I'm goint to be crying about you forever 😭

(Special shoutout to sad bojere bitches for never stopping, never despairing, never failing to make me laugh and cry. You know who you areeeee)

LET'S NEVER MENTION THIS AGAIN OKAY?????

Fanfic ask game

[deans-baby-momma]

Law & Love Chapter 25/Epilogue

A/N: This is it. The end. I had fun writing this one and enjoyed all your feedback.......but, to be quite honest, I am actually scared of it now. Please don't hate me. This is the ending I had in mind from the beginning.

And without further ado

The first thing I notice when I come to is the steady beeping and the swish-swish whoosh of air. 

I take inventory of myself before I even open my eyes. My torso is sore but it's nothing compared to the pain in my left shoulder and down my arm. 

How rough did Beau fuck me?! Did I tense so hard that my whole body spasmed into shock? What happened to me? Why am I so achy, like I've been run over.

Damn, that must have been some great sex! What I remember of it, I know it was and I wonder how Beau is faring.

I slowly open my eyes and immediately squint as a brightness blinds me. What the fuck?! 

I try again, this time being able to bear the light as I realize I am not where I should be. The room is too drab, the air too clean, the bed too rigid.  

I lift my head and look down at myself, becoming more perplexed as I notice I'm covered from my chest to my toes in a thin blanket, there are wires that disappear under the fabric that lead to machines attached to stands beside the bed. 

My arms are stiff, laying beside me and there are needles and lines connected to them. I look to the right and see a closed door with a small sink hanging on the wall next to it.

As I try to figure out what the hell is going on, another door- on the opposite wall - opens and a man walks in, holding a clipboard.

"What do you mean I've been out for almost 2 weeks?" I ask the man in front of me. He's wearing a long white coat so I assume he's a doctor. 

"Ahem. Ms. Y/L/N, you were unconscious for 13 days following the accident." He opens his mouth to continue but I cut him off.

"Accident? What accident? No," I shake my head. "I was just having the best orgasm of my life and…..and….and…."

I can't stop the tears that begin pouring down my cheeks. "I was with-" This time I'm the one interrupted, the door opening quickly and Beau stepping in. "Beau!"

He walks to my side, a smile on his face but stays a respectable distance from me. I want to reach out and pull him to me; to feel his arms around me, holding me close but he is too far away. I am completely confused but relieved he is here.

"Chief Arlen, I was just explaining to Ms. Y/L/N her condition and the cause of it. But it seems to have put her into a frenzy."

"I'll do it, " Beau says as he turns toward the doctor. "It is official police business after all, Doc."

The doctor nods, writes something on the clipboard and then pockets his pen. "If you need me, just have the nurse page me. I'll come check on you during evening rounds otherwise."

I watch as the doctor leaves and then turn toward Beau.

"What the hell is going on, Beau?!"

"What do you remember, sweetheart?"

I listen with astonishment as Beau explains how I've ended up in the hospital. He had pulled a chair to the side of my hospital bed and sat down.

"After the judge found your assailants guilty and recommended their jail sentence, you left the courtroom feeling justified. You turned to us - Cassie, Jenny and I - and smiled the first real smile I'd seen on your face in days, weeks even. You said you were finally free and you were going to treat us all to a drink at MacAlley's. We agreed and walked out of the courthouse. You practically skipped down the steps. 

"It all happened so fast," he continues and looks down at his feet. "If I had just been a foot closer, I could've pulled you back; pulled you away from getting hurt."

I look at him, his head down with his elbows on his knees. He is feeling guilty that I was injured but it wasn't his fault.

"Beau, it isn't your fault."

Beau takes a deep breath and looks up before exhaling. "You don't know that. Y/N it was Buck Barnes behind the wheel. He was trying to divert my attention from the investigation into him and Sunny."

"What?" I ask, perplexed. "What investigation?"

"Sunny and Buck Barnes were covering up for Sunny's eldest son Walter. He's the man in the woods that's been kidnapping and murdering all those hikers and campers. We were closing in on the truth and Mr. Barnes tried to prevent me from finding out. So yea Sweetheart, it is my fault. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry."

"Wait, so I've been in a coma since the hearing?" I have so many questions bouncing around in my head now.  “Uh….” I don't even know how to word the questions I want to ask.

Beau nods as he sits up in the chair and sighs. “We’ve all been keeping an eye on you. Jenny, Cassie, even Denise have come by and visited and sat with you during the day when they can get away from work. I have spent the last 13 nights right here in this chair.”

I look at him bewildered. If I got knocked out right after the hearing, that means he never went back to Austin with Carla, I didn’t hook up with Cordell. Hell, I didn't even take a trip to Texas! And he has stayed in the hospital with me every night?! We haven’t even officially been on a date yet. We were just getting up to that point when the hearing happened.

“So,” I begin, trying to get the words to make sense. “You’ve been here every night? Just watching me sleep?”

Beau smiles and leans up to take my hand. “And praying to whatever deity I could think of to bring you back to me.”

His words warm my heart and I smile at him. He is such a sweet man.  I am lucky that he is mine. But wait, is he mine?

“Beau, I know we had been living together before the hearing out of my safety but….” I trail off as I look away from him, trying to get the courage to ask what I need to ask. “Are we more? You spent 13 nights in that god awful chair waiting for me to wake up; praying that I did. That couldn’t have been comfortable.”

Beau chuckles as he leans forward and kisses the top of my hand, being wary of the IV there. “We were going on our first official date last weekend, after the trial.”

“Oh. So I guess I dreamed that you went back to Austin with your ex-wife and daughter?”

“Honey, I haven’t left the city limits since your accident.”

“Wow. Now I feel really bad,” I say sheepishly.

“Why?” Beau cocks his head to the side. 

“While I was sleeping, I dreamed of another man. Someone I met after you left. I’m sorry.”

Beau laughs, low. “We can’t control what our mind brews up. It wasn’t real.”

I couldn’t help but ask. “Do you…..know any Texas Rangers?”

Beau confirms that he has worked with a few of them in the past on cases that came into his jurisdiction and when I mention the name Cordell Walker, he gets a weird look on his face.

“Don’t believe I know that one, sugar.”

“He was who I met. He, um, came looking for you and one thing led to another,” I explain.

Beau smiles and chuckles. “It was only a dream darlin’. Ain’t nobody coming for me, Texas Ranger or not.”

After being released from the hospital two days later, Beau takes me home. To his new home, a house on the outskirts of town with a front porch that has room enough for a porch swing. He explains that the trailer had only been temporary. 

Beau spends the next few days making sure I’m healing and getting enough rest. Almost to the point that I want to yell at him but I know he is only doing it to show me he cares. So I keep my lips sealed and bask in the sentiment.

Beau Arlen is a good man and a good friend. But will he ever be more?

TO BE CONTINUED……..MAYBE 

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam  @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @deans-spinster-witch @yvonneeeeeeeee @tmb510 @globetrotter28 @leigh70

[glorious-poetato]

Hey :)

Could you maybe a write a wilbur x reader with accidental admission of feelings trope.

Thanks

[Accidentle confessions]

Ship: streamer! Reader x Wilbur soot

Warnings: some jealousy (please let me know if I'm missing anything)

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I was currently at a random park Tommy told me to meet him at. As I look around nobody is in sight and I'm starting to think this was some kind of prank. As I start to grab my phone to call Tommy I see the boy running towards me. Behind him wilbur is following him. I then noticed the camera that was recording them.

"Y/n you made it" Tommy says "by the way we are live right now" wilbur chimes in. "Thanks for the heads up," I say half sarcastic because no one told me we where going to stream or film today. But what should I expect when Tommy invites me to a random park.

Tommy then turn to wilbur and continues his antics. "So what is the stream about ?"I ask interrupting them. " Oh we are letting people figure out what park we are at. Like hide and seek." Tommy informs me.

"That sound like a very unsafe idea" I say "don't worry y/n I'll protect you," he says in a half joking way with a wink. Tommy then acts like he is going to throw up. While chat is going wild shaping us.

"Get a room," Tommy yells at us. " shut up Tommy otherwise I'm not going to help you if someone tries to kidnap you." He looks taken aback at my statements and wilbur is weezing at are bickering.

We continue the stream for a bit. No one has found us yet. At least that's what I thought until I saw a group of college age kids run up to us. One boy yelling back at the group say "guys I found them" everyone ask for pictures and Tommy congratulates them on finding us. Then tells them not to tell anyone where we are.

Before the group leaves on of the guys approach me and say " I know this I very forward but would you like to go out some time." I stand there stund for a moment before declining the offer saying " I'm sorry I'm actually dating someone." That was a complete lie but he did have to know that. I didn't realize that Tommy had been recording this encounter. He must have been taken aback when I said I was dating someone because he had wide eyes. He then directed his attention to wilbur who seemed shocked and a little upset.

We continued stream and I kept agreeing that I was seeing someone, because I didn't want that guy to know I lied. The rest of the stream Chat kept asking if me a wilbur were a thing. We ignored those questions and ran into a few more fans. The rest of the stream wilbur was acting more distant then usual. We eventually called it a day and ended stream.

Me Tommy and wilbur all when out for ice cream after stream. We had just sat down on a bench when we heard Tommy's phone ring. He got up and walked away picking up the call. The moment he left the atmosphere changed. I looked over at wilbur and finally said " what's wrong and don't say nothing because something is obviously bothering you."

"Y/n I'm fine" he says unconvincing. "I know your not but If you don't want to talk about it that's fine. Just know I'm here if you do want to," I tell him. I try to make some jokes to light up the mood. I sort of work for a bit.

Tommy comes back and tells us he has to leave and thanks us for filming with him.

That's when I notice wilbur got some ice cream on his cheek. " wilbur you got something on your face," he goes to try and wipe it off but can't get it. I reach over and wipe it off his face with a napkin.

I can't help but feel my heart speed up as we lock eyes for what feels like minutes. Then wilbur breaks the trance we are in by saying "y/n you can't keep doing stuff like this," I give him a confused look. "What are you talking about," I ask. He then continues " you keep looking at me like that and you keep doing those things and I can't even do anything about it because you are dating someone and I just want to tell you how I feel but I can't because I know now that I can't have you because someone else already does." Before he can ramble on I stop him and say "slow down I can't understand a word your saying. "Y/n I'm head over heels for you." My eyes widen but I don't skip a beat and lean in to kiss him. He pulls back though "wait y/n you can't kiss me if your with someone already." He says " wilbur I'm not actually seeing someone. I just said that so I wouldn't hurt his feelings." At that moment I feel wilburs lips meet mine.

"Thank God" He say as we pull apart " next time someone asks you out I hope you won't have to lie now." He smirks at me and asks "y/n will you be my s/o?"

"Of course" I say smiling

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

I hope you liked it I don't write for wilbur much and I've never written accidentle admissons troupe before so I hope it was okay. Sorry for any Grammer or spelling mistakes

-poe<3

[bobwess]

For the AMA (apologies in advance i've got fic-writing on the brain cuz of nano)

How do you deal with writer's block when it strike? Or is your go-to to drop AMA? :P What's your preferred fic writing time, if you even have one?

Do you tend to write mainly digitally? Do you keep a writer's notebook?

Have you ever had a fic idea just pop into your head so jarringly you just start immediately writing from scratch? Or are you the sort who needs everything meticulously outlined out?

Is NaNo something you've ever tried, or is it not your thing?

You a person who listens to music while writing? If so, what sorts of thing?

Do you find that you tend to write in short bursts and then leave it for a while, or do you make consistant slow and steady progress? Or does it really depend on the fic?

Have you ever reread something you've written and had zero recollection of writing it?

You might have been asked this before, but do you have a favorite thing you've written? (Doesn't have to be just kept to fics either)

And one last silly one for the road...You get stuck in one of your fics. Which one would you rather it be, and what would happen?

How do you deal with writer's block when it strike? Or is your go-to to drop AMA? :P What's your preferred fic writing time, if you even have one?

I usually write lateish. On a normal day I'm going to bed around 8am, I'm usually starting writing at like 2/3.

Do you tend to write mainly digitally? Do you keep a writer's notebook?

I write exclusively digitally. I type very fast, pretty much the same speed I think so I can keep up unlike if I'm writing physically. I can also change things on the fly without struggle.

I keep a physical notebook with me most of the time but its specifically for prop building, makeup designs, and work related planning.

Have you ever had a fic idea just pop into your head so jarringly you just start immediately writing from scratch? Or are you the sort who needs everything meticulously outlined out?

Absolutely have gone in from scratch.

It's weird though. 50% of the time it's seat-of-my-pants moment-by-moment with maybe a couple notes for the future (Only Human, A Sudden Affinity) and sometimes I have a fic meticulously planned out (Wait for the Ricochet, My Endverse fic).

Almost all of my one-shots are ideas that popped into my head and refused to not be written.

The Endverse fic actually, while fully planned now, at first was just one chapter I really wanted/needed to write and I sat down and wrote it out. Then built the fic around it. It became chapter 3. It's the weirdest one I've ever written because I have every chapter made individually in documents, and each one is outlined. So I'm just popcorning and doing a scene here and a scene there.

Is NaNo something you've ever tried, or is it not your thing?

I should do. I have two novels I am working on slow as shit and it'd be a good job to have a kick in the pants to get them done. A couple times before I've thought about it. November is just always busy as hell and I can't self-enforce a substitute month.

You a person who listens to music while writing? If so, what sorts of thing?

I listen to music 90% of the time. Honestly it depends. I have two playlists. One is much more aggressive, rock/metal/etc. Otherwise I'll go for concerts or other instrumental music. If there was a spotify wrapped type listing for my computer, Ray Chen performing Sibelius' Violin Concerto would be towards the top of the list.

The other 10% of the time I'll just listen to like sounds. Rain or rivers or something like that.

Do you find that you tend to write in short bursts and then leave it for a while, or do you make consistent slow and steady progress? Or does it really depend on the fic?

Absolutely depends. But probably bursts more often. A specific fic will just grab me. Unfortunately for everyone waiting on my chapters my bursts of inspiration recently have been my thus unpublished Endverse fic. Which means a lot of writing has been done that isn't ready to see the light of day.

Have you ever reread something you've written and had zero recollection of writing it?

No. I am very aware of what I've written, and I re-read a lot. I do sometimes REGRET things I've written, though it's rare. I only have a few pieces of mine I don't like.

On the contrary, my VIDEOS? Holy shit, I don't have a clue what's in them. They leave my brain the second I am done editing them, and I never ever re-watch them. "I love your Destiel series." "Thanks, I do not remember it."

You might have been asked this before, but do you have a favorite thing you've written? (Doesn't have to be just kept to fics either)

Until very recently it's been "Only Human" because it's been such a labor of love, and I have a few idea notes for running it all the way into "season" 13. But honestly "Wait for the Ricochet" has overtaken it. I don't know, I just think it's neat.

And one last silly one for the road...You get stuck in one of your fics. Which one would you rather it be, and what would happen?

Oh man. See the FUN answer is My Endverse fic, because honestly it has a lot of meat on it and I would love to fit into Chitaqua. I'm really enjoying what I've written so far. (Like I said, stuck in the brain, can't stop talking about it.)

But the real answer is Hell Above, because I can be a passenger on the airplane and theoretically not-die which is not a given in my other fics.

[bad-mixed-lib-dyke]

Small Update on the "Marriage" Thing

This is an update to this post

I've been busy and this week is finals so I can't get into as much as I wish but did wanna make an update while I'm fairly close to things. Not a super horny update, that will likely cum later~

Everything went/is going really well.

Better than I ever could have imagined.

The courtship week went pretty well. There was one night where things were pushed a little too far. But it was ok.

There was one night where I found out something really upsetting that was being actively hidden from me and it triggered a bunch of flashbacks and I thought he was in on it but I guess he really didn't know. That actually lead to a lot of good things for us. Though it's fucked up both of our trust in the friend I took the trip with here, forever in my case.

But that lead to him giving me the passcode to his phone and computer to try to establish trust. Also discussions about radical honesty (which my autistic ass already does, but it's nice to have it reciprocated)

We also went over some times from our past where I held trauma which was super healing and has made us closer than ever :3

We were able to find everything we were looking for thrifting. A dress and veil for me, the perfect champagne flutes, I got stuff to make a flower crown. The perfect ring for me.

The ceremony was just us, I put candles all over and we read our vows to each other. These are the ones I wrote if anyone cares.

I was worried I wouldn't be able to hold up my end of the "free use" deal, but we had a lot of conversation about boundaries and stuff (my ring position would imply different levels of consent :3) But I wound up not having to worry. I've had no issues in submitting whatsoever.

Some people seem to have the impression I'm gold star? I'm not. This wasn't my first time sleeping with a man. This wasn't even my first time sleeping with this man (though I have had my first time being sober/remembering it XD)

I'm sure I'll write more on that later :3

I started cleaning around his room while he's at work and after the first day, where I was super careful not to move things too far or make any major adjustments, he sat me down and told me to do whatever I wanted. He really emphasized that he trusts me and wants me to feel comfortable in the space too. It was really sweet.

I wound up spending 2 and a half weeks at his place, and the drop we both had when I came home was intense.

I was only supposed to be there for a week, but the night I was supposed to come home I got a fever. He took care of me and caught it from me(we're pretty sure I got it from his roommate), I cared for him while also dying cause I got my period right as I was recovering XDD

I'm so glad I'm doing this with someone I know so well and can have so much trust and love with. Honestly, for a fake relationship, it's probably the best one I've ever been in.

It was supposed to be a scene we did sometimes, but we sort of just slipped into it being 24/7

Our Song is House of Asmodeus from HelluvaBoss

His nickname for me is "My Little Imp Wife"

The things I get in trouble for are for thinking and saying "sorry" (He will let me know if I need to apologize and otherwise I'm thinking for myself again)

I made the account @mrsroswell for him so a lot of my more housewifey submissive stuff might wind up over there for those who like that kind of thing.

Alright, this is long enough and I have homework. Thanks to anyone who read this far XD

If anyone has any questions about the arrangement, feel free to ask them~

[literaticat]

Hi, I'm a published author of 2 books. My agent is someone who's been in the business for a while but notoriously very slow. She's had my MS for SIX MONTHS with no notes. I've asked for updates multiple times and been blown off. I know I should leave but this agent is great when I'm actually on sub/working with editors, and the idea of querying again scares me. I'm not a famous author by any means. Any advice here?

I'll be totally real - every time I get a question like this it makes me want to die because I feel like it is one of my own clients writing about me, and I want to crawl into a hole and pull the hole in after me, because I'M SURE I have lost or otherwise sat on manuscripts for so long that a client has wanted to murder me, and believe me, I also want to murder MYSELF when that has happened. (I mean - I don't THINK this person is talking about me, but MAYBE I EFFED UP AND DON'T EVEN KNOW IT AHHHHHH)

Anyway, my own psychodrama aside: I just kinda don't have advice beyond, you need to evaluate the things you can live with and the things you can't. Realize that you can't make a tiger change their stripes -- if you KNOW they take forever, and they ALWAYS take forever, and you've nudged and whatever but they will never not take forever -- can you live with that? If not, you should leave.

(If, on the other hand, when they DO focus on your work you feel like the center of the universe, and you feel like they are an amazing champion for you with editors, and they really "get" your work -- maybe you can figure out how to live with 'notorious' slowness. I don't know.)

I will say this: I don't think six months passes with no real reply unless there is something up. I'd say your first step is to have a candid conversation with them. Not a nudge or "asking for an update" -- say, "Hi, can we schedule a time to talk in the next week or so" and get something on the calendar. In that conversation, you have to BE UP FRONT. "I totally get that everyone is drowning, but it's been six months since I sent you xyz, and I gotta be honest, it's stressing me out that you haven't sent notes/replied. It makes me feel like perhaps you don't have time for this, or you don't like it -- or... ?"

Let them answer that. If they are reassuring you, etc -- fantastic. Maybe this can be salvaged. IF on the other hand they open up to you and admit that yeah, they aren't feeling this, or they are way overextended, or whatever it is -- then you can go from there. If they love the book and want to work on the book, then they should make time for the book, and it's good that you were a bit of a squeaky wheel. If they can't or don't want to do that, then you need to move on, regardless of if you are "scared."

We're all scared, babe. FEEL THE FEAR AND DO IT ANYWAY.