#it kept moving the line down a paragraph each time i saved the draft

[microwave-core]

Yo, that Leon post was LEGENDARY, dude!!! If I kindly asked you to make the NSFW version of that, would you? 🥺🥺🥺

I can try, however I SUCK at writing smut. Dog-shit at it. We're talking my immortal levels of writing. I'm also very boring and don't have single dominant bone in my body. That being said, editing and refining goes a long way, so I'll try my best.

Starting off, he's a bit inexperienced, which I mentioned previously. He hasn't been in many relationships, much less been intimate, and he doesn't fuck without feelings. Prefers to take things slow and can get overwhelmed easily at first. That being said, he's a quick learner.

In general, I'd say Leon is a soft dom. He's caring and doting, if not a little shaky at first, but he learns quickly. He's kind of an unstoppable force in his regular everyday life, so being dominant comes naturally to him. Could totally be on the submissive side, though, especially if he's tired.

He's normally gentle, but he can also be rough. His touches aren't always feather light and experimental. If asked, or if he's just stressed out and/or pent up, he can be more aggressive. Normally, he lets off steam during a workout, but, hey, if it works it works.

Very attentive lover. He likes to take his time learning the ins and outs of what his partner does and doesn't like. From their big kinks down to which spots make them sigh in content when kissed. Willing to experiment, but has certain lines that he won't cross.

Big on praise. He wants to know he's doing a good job, that he's a good boy, and loves to return the favor. On the other hand, he hates being degraded. He's a bit insecure, honestly, so being insulted just kind of hurts. Kills his mood. If asked, he can try to degrade his partner, but he's not very good at it. He doesn't want to be mean to someone he loves so much, even if they're literally asking for it.

Speaking of things he isn't a fan of: pain. Leon has no real interest in being hurt, nor does he want to hurt anyone else. Boy is strong, so he's sure to be careful, even when he's being rough. At most, he could potentially be convinced to do some light choking, but even that might be a bit too much for him. He can leave marks, sure, but that doesn't mean he needs to inflict actual pain, right? Also, hates having his hair pulled, his scalp is very sensitive.

Okay, last "things I think Leon wouldn't be into", bare with me. He's not into anything remotely public. The rush he feels in public is not that of excitement, but that of pure dread and panic. He has a reputation, if anyone found out, he would die from sheer embarrassment, mainly because his family would find out. He'd never be able to look his mum in the eyes again out of pure shame.

He's much more lenient with nudes, even if leaks can happen. It would still give him a heart attack if anyone found out, but it's far more socially acceptable to be found exchanging steamy pics with your lover than fucking in public. Tends to lean more on the side of thirst trap then full on nudity. Wouldn't make a sex tape.

Doesn't usually jack off. Doesn't usually feel the need to. He has other outlets for stress relief that get the job done better. That being said, he is considerably needier when he's in a proper relationship, but, even then, it's still not often. He'd rather wait to get off with his partner then do it alone, at that point.

We're far enough in the post where I can just be honest. The first thing that I thought of when I read your ask, anon, is that Leon eats an insane amount of pussy. And he'd also suck an insane amount of dick. He's Mr. Bi King, after all. He just really likes giving head and is incredible at it to boot. Receiving isn't his favorite thing, though. It's not that he doesn't like it, of course he likes it, it just makes him feel a bit awkward.

Slight oral fixation.

The other thing that came to mind is that he has a breeding kink. I completely forgot to put it on the main post, but Leon really wants a big family one day. He loves kids, he's great with them, and is all around family oriented. And so, the thought of starting a family gets him off. Like, a lot. It's a little embarrassing for him to admit that, though. It doesn't even matter if he can get his partner pregnant or not, honestly. At the end of the day, it's about the sentiment.

Also, slight pregnancy kink. It just goes hand in hand with the above.

Aftercare king. At the end of the day, Leon is a very sweet and caring person, so it only makes sense to clean his lover up in the afterglow. He's all about gentle touches and massages for bruised marks and tender skin. Whether he runs a bath or settles for a wash cloth is entirely dependent on how tired he is. Cuddling and pillow talk is an absolute must.

In terms of stamina, he's pretty decent, and can usually push two or three rounds if he paces himself properly. He likes to edge himself, though, so he tends to last for awhile.

His dick is thick and so are his fingers. Do with this information as you will.

[studythenight-away]

Hello! As finals season (aka 5-research-papers-due-in-a-week season) dawns on many of you, I thought I would share the process I used to write papers in college. This made writing long research papers much less daunting (but can also work on shorter papers). I really hope this helps some of you who feel stuck. Especially during these ridiculous times, when you're stuck at home and might have other uncontrollable factors affecting your mental health, a clear framework of what to do could be helpful. Good luck, my friends! You got this.

About me

I graduated college in 2018 with degrees in Political Science + International Studies and will be starting law school this fall. I wrote nearly 20 15 to 25-page papers, never earning below an A. I loved researching about my topics but hated writing. It's tedious, takes so much time, and everything I write sounds bad at first. Plus, I was a terrible procrastinator so most of these essays were written in under a week. Talk about stress.

Over time I found a process that worked for me, one that made churning out a paper seem straightforward, like going through a factory line rather than this terrifying concept of writing 10,000 words. It kept me sane without decreasing the quality of my work (or more importantly, how much I learned!) 

I'm thinking about making a short video to show this in action… let me know if that could be helpful!

Step 1: Research

How you organize your research is a key step in keeping you sane. Usually I'll have a pile of 20 books in my dorm along with dozens of JSTOR tabs open on my laptop, and that can get overwhelming very fast. Right now just focus on collecting ideas, not developing an argument or even an outline! As with most research papers, you could be starting with little to no background information on the topic, so it is still too early to be thinking about an argument.

Put all your research in one document

Open up a new doc: this will be the heart of everything. For a 15-page paper I usually end up with around 14-18 pages of typed research, 10 pt font, single spaced, tiny margins. This seems like a lot, but essentially all I do is type up anything I read that seems relevant to my topic, so luckily this step does not require that much brain power. Just type type type!

Use the table of contents

Find the chapter(s) that are actually relevant instead of skimming through the whole book. Time is of the essence here!

Use Zotero, cite right away

You can also use easybib or whatever you're used to, but keep track of your sources. I like Zotero because I can keep a log of all of my sources and copy the footnote or bibliography version whenever needed. Before you even begin reading, cite the source and copy it into your research doc. This will save you so much time later when you have to put in your citations in the actual paper. 

Here is an example of what my research doc looks like:

Full citation is my heading for each source just so it’s crystal clear

I ignore all typos (I don’t think there are any in this part though, go me!) because my head is buried in the book just trying to get all the info down

I always start with the page number so I know what to cite when I go back

Create a shorthand 

While typing up research, you might think of something that the author didn't talk about that you'll want to write in your paper. Or perhaps a few sentences already start to form. Put them all in one place, with your research, so you know what source you'll have to cite to then lead into your idea. I type "!@#" before anything that is strictly my own idea so I'm never confused. It's fast and stands out.

This is an example: the two bullet points above are evidence from my source, which made me think of this argument I could make, which I noted with “!@#”

Step 2: Read Your Research

Now that you have all your information, go back and read through it all. Every time you read about a new theme/person/event, write it down somewhere. You may come up with a list of 20+ different ideas in your research. No matter how small, as long as there is something about it, write it down. Each of these mini themes is going to end up being a paragraph in your paper or combined with another mini theme. 

Once you’ve made your list, look for larger overarching themes. In the paper I’ve shown you, I had mini categories like “political party x” “religion” “labor groups” “little organization” and “hierarchy.” When I looked back I though, hey these are all groups and how groups are working together, so they each became their own mini paragraph under the subsection of “Alliances.”

As with most research paper structures, I try to find three general themes/subsections (like an extended version of that 5-paragraph essay we wrote in middle school). It makes the paper less messy and also makes sure I’m not covering things that are beyond a reasonable scope.

During this step, you are also searching for your thesis. It won’t be your final version. As you fill in your outline in the next step you may make slight changes. But this is definitely when you start thinking about it.

Step 3: Outline

We’re ready to outline! Once I’ve collected all my different themes and organized all my subsections and paragraphs, it’s time to fill in that outline. I start a new doc just for the outline and take advantage of google doc’s headings function to make a clear document outline.

Here comes the fun part, I read through my research one more time, this time copy and pasting all my research into each section of the outline. The document outline in google docs makes this easy because I can just click on each subheading to get me there (super helpful when you’re dealing with 15+ pages of research).

Here is what it looks like:

Let’s say I need to add something to my outline about labor groups. Boom, labor groups. Also, the typos are really abound here haha

Step 4: Write the Paper

Okay, I get it, easier said than done. BUT! You already have everything set up. Your outline is essentially just a list of your paragraphs and all you have to do is paraphrase, cite, and create a topic sentence. And that’s how you should think about this: you’re essentially transforming bullet points into sentences and adding footnotes. 

In high school my English teacher introduced us to Sh*tty First Drafts for creative writing, but honestly the same applies to research papers. Sometimes I’ll even have phrases like “wait no that’s not what I meant but basically...” and when I go back to edit, I realize that what came after “but basically...” is fine! And I keep it. So just start typing.

How do you cite while you write? Because we’re trying to get a constant stream of writing going, inserting proper footnotes after each sentence you type is too bothersome. I usually split screen with my outline and my paper so I just copy and paste a few words from my bullet point into my footnote, like so:

(This is from a different paper about cluster munitions.)

Step 5: Edit the Paper

I work best when I print out my first draft and make all edits in red pen. I feel more productive and can visually see where I want to move sentences and what I need to change. The more red there is the better I can feel the paper getting. (Whether or not that’s true doesn’t matter. We’re trying to stay motivated here!) When it’s all digital I don’t really see the progress. Plus, once I finish all the red, I get another moment of passive brain work, where all I’m doing is transferring edits rather than thinking. And at this point in the process, that kind of relief is much welcomed. 

The good thing about this process is there’s not usually a need to cut entire paragraphs or pages because the paper you end up with is just a formalized version of your outline. Because you started with such a detailed outline, the cutting and editing now is just to refine your word choices and get rid of the “but basically”s. You’re almost there!

Step 6: Replace your citations

Now it’s time to go back and replace your footnotes with actual citations. Zotero makes this easy because in Word you can just insert and add the page number, and it’ll automatically do “Ibid.” for you when needed. Ctrl+f in the original research doc to quickly find the source.

Step 7: One More Read-Through and Submit!

Congratulations!! You’ve got a fully-researched and well-backed paper! Of course, even though the process is straightforward, it’s still a lot of work. In ideal situations I would start researching two weeks before the deadline, but if need be, I believe I’ve done this all in three miserable panic-filled days as well. 

Please message me if you have any questions at all! I really hope some of you find this helpful! Good luck!

[zevlors-tail]

Mornings

A/N: Just a little TodoDeku x Reader thing I had saved in my drafts. I feel like some of it doesn’t flow, sorry. I worked on it at different times, and to be completely honest, I wrote it in a different POV when I started it so I had to go back and change the first few paragraphs. I figured you guys needed something, and this gave me a break from everything else. 

Pairing: Poly TodoDeku x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mild angst, Todoroki crying, mention of nightmares, shirtless Izuku

Genre: Mild angst, mostly domestic fluff.

Oh yeah I forgot because I was tired but I came back here to emphasize that this is an established poly relationship between Izuku, Todoroki, and the reader, and that both boys and the reader are aged up 21+ as they always are in my poly pairings.

The blaring of an alarm clock drags you from your sleepy reverie as you slowly come to. Your eyes are still tired and blurry, but you recognize the familiar green mop of hair to your right as Izuku’s. It takes you a minute to process everything with your brain still half asleep, but you feel him reach around and over you to hit the snooze button, effectively silencing the bane of your existence every morning. Squinting, you roll over and read the time; 5:00 am is way too damn early to be awake right now.

The boy who only moments ago had been snoring peacefully next to you suddenly sits up, stares blankly for a moment to gather his bearings, then carefully slips out of bed so as not to wake you and Shouto (though it was a bit too late for your sake). When he realized you were staring him down with groggy eyes and a cute pout, he smiled but couldn’t help feeling bad for waking you up. He tried to apologize quietly, ruffling your hair gently before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek while telling you to go back to sleep. But you knew it was too late for that, and you rubbed at your eyes sleepily as you watched him change into the familiar pair of basketball shorts he used to work out in and one of his many signature graphic tees.

“Zuku, can I go with you on your run?” you whispered, trying to push yourself up from the bed slowly. But before you could make it all the way up, a pair of arms wound their way around your torso, and you felt yourself being dragged back down to the mattress softly. Todoroki nuzzled his face into your neck from behind, exhaling a warm puff of air that sent goosebumps down your arms and caused the hair at the nape of your neck to raise slightly.

“I don’t think Shouto wants you to,” Izuku chuckled, “although I’m sure he would understand if you did. Do you want me to wait for you?”

Behind you, Shouto mumbled a halfhearted “Stay,” sleep evident in his voice as he drifted back to dreamland before he even finished speaking.

The warmth he radiated and the soft blankets you snuggled back into were enough to keep you from trying to get up a second time, and you were entirely tempted to succumb to the newfound drowsiness that washed over you. “S’ fine...” you murmured to your partner. If you had the energy to say more you would have, but Shouto’s even breathing was lulling you to sleep faster than you realized. “Hey...Deku?” The words were barely coherent, but they were there and he heard them. He took them especially serious at the mention of his hero name, which he knew you only used when you really needed something.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He made his way over the edge of the bed, kneeling down to your level as he lightly ran his thumb over your jawline in a loving way.

“Can I have your sweatshirt? Smells like you...” Your eyes were already closed again, facial features relaxing as Izuku continued to caress your cheek with his thumb.

“Of course, love.” Izuku smiled at the request. He gave you one last look of adoration before starting to rummage through the room for a specific hoodie that he’d worn to work this week; it happened to be his softest one, and he’d drenched the thing with his cologne on accident, so it probably still smelled like him.

He let out a small noise in triumph as he found the sweatshirt on the back of his computer chair before he gave it an experimental sniff to make sure it really was clean. It was, although he’d definitely used way too much of his cologne for his liking; good thing he wasn’t the one who would be using it today. Making his way back to you, he scrunched his nose up at the overbearing smell and let a puff of air out of his nose. You would love it.

“Here, baby.” You felt him gently shake you to get your attention, but you refused to open your eyes, instead latching onto his arm that held the hoodie and cuddling up to both. “H-Hey, hun-” Izuku let out a quiet laugh at your reaction while carefully trying to pull his arm away. You eventually gave in and let go, preferring to rub your face into his shirt and take a deep breath in to smell his cologne. “I love you both dearly. Sweet dreams.”

And with one last pat to both your and Shouto’s head, Izuku was out the door and on his usual morning run.

The next time you woke, golden rays of sun were filtering in through the blinds covering your window and Todoroki was stirring quietly next to you, a yawn escaping his lips. You were curled tightly into a ball, your arms curled into your chest while your hands grabbed at something you didn’t remember having before bed last night. Opening your eyes and letting them focus for a moment, you realized you were holding one of Izuku’s favorite hoodies, and a few fleeting memories from earlier in the morning returned as you rolled over to greet Shouto.

“Hi, baby.”

Shouto smiled affectionately at your hello and brought a hand to rest against your cheek before leaning in for a kiss. “Morning, babe. Did you sleep okay?”

“I did. How did you sleep, princess?” you teased.

“I slept okay,” he forced out after an odd pause. You could tell there was more he wanted to say, that there was an unspoken ‘but’ at the end of his words, though he remained quiet and didn’t explain any further.

“Are you having those dreams again?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t really afraid to ask, but you knew it could bring up bad memories for him if you pried any more than necessary.

“No.” He frowned, but the tension in his face didn’t leave. “I haven’t had any dreams about my father for a really long time now, ever since I moved in with you and Izuku.”

You were touched. You’d known since the start of your relationship that Todoroki sometimes had night terrors, and most of the time they consisted of his father or his mother, maybe even a few other family members. It wasn’t uncommon for either you or Izuku to get a phone call from him in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning right as you were waking up before you all moved in together. It had happened a few times after you were all sharing the house together, but someone had always been there physically to comfort him after that. And now that you thought back on it, it had stopped shortly after the move, which meant that having you and Izuku around all the time must have really helped him cope.

“Really? I’m so glad to hear that! We were really worried about you for a while, you know.” You smiled and ran a hand through his hair gently causing him to hum in appreciation and lean into your touch. His hand fell from your face and came to rest atop the one carding through his hair, momentarily pulling it away to stop the motion even though it seemed he wanted more.

“I love you,” he said suddenly, firmly, as if he would never again get the chance. His tone startled you, and you met his heterochromatic eyes to see tears forming in the corners of them.

“I love you too. Hey, what’s wrong?” You kept your voice soft so as not to further overwhelm him, though your chest flooded with anxiety about what could possibly be bothering him.

Shouto squeezed your hand tightly before responding, eyes scrunching up as he bit back a sob and sniffed. “I don’t have those dreams anymore, which is nice, but...” He couldn’t help the small cry that escaped his throat; you felt your heart crack at the sound. “It was a nightmare, a-and you...Midoriya...I couldn’t save you-!” 

You wasted no time in pulling your partner to your chest, your arms wrapping around him securely as you placed his head under your chin. Shouto was a silent crier, but his body heaved with every breath and shook with every tear that left him. You did your best to provide comfort. The three of you were all too familiar with nightmares, as they were often a product of your jobs as heroes, and each of you had been subject to awful dreams after failed missions and jobs gone wrong. In fact, you recalled having one just the other night about a particular villain you’d fought against and lost to earlier in the month- if it weren’t for Bakugou, you weren’t sure what would have happened...he had pried you from the villain’s clutches himself and saved your life with basic first aid after you’d been heavily wounded.

You each dealt with nightmare’s differently, but the bottom line was that you were all there for each other when you needed to be. Even now, as Shouto sobbed into your shirt, you were there pressing kisses to his temple and rubbing a hand on his back, murmuring sweet nothings and words of comfort until he had regained some of his composure. When he finally calmed down enough to breathe evenly again, he pulled away from your embrace and kissed you once more on the lips; it was his way of both thanking you and reassuring you that he was okay.

You returned his sweet kiss before reaching behind you, your hand feeling around on the bed for something specific you knew would benefit your boyfriend more than it would you right now. Finally finding purchase in the soft material, you pulled Izuku’s hoodie over to the other side of the bed where Shouto was and set it in front of him. He gladly melted into it just as you had when Deku had given it to you. 

“Smells like Midoriya.” Todoroki sniffled and closed his eyes, one hand fisting your shared partner’s shirt and his other lacing his fingers between yours, palms warm and soft.

You let your mind drift as you both laid there together in a comfortable silence. Birds chirping outside and the sounds of people going about their everyday lives created a sort of morning ambiance while you absentmindedly started humming, the most recent catchy tune you had heard finding it’s way to your vocal chords as you serenaded the bedroom softly.

“Please don’t stop,” Todoroki pleaded with you. His eyes were still closed, his face finally soft and relaxed.

You only smiled and continued. About a half hour later, while you were in the middle of singing a sweet melody that Todoroki had personally asked for, you heard the sound of the front door opening and shoes behind kicked off hastily before heavy footsteps were trudging up the stairs to the bedroom. You stopped singing as Deku opened the door, Shouto grumbling out a complaint about you stopping before lifting his head up to see what the commotion was about.

“I’m back, and I brought breakfast and coffee!” He set a drink carrier down on the computer desk along with a couple small bags that smelled of something sweet before ripping off his sweaty shirt, tossing it on the floor without a care in the world. “Scoot over!” He gave only one single warning before he was diving into the bed with the two of you, worming his way in between you with a sly smile and snuggling up to your front side in all his sweaty glory.

“Oh, Izu, yuck-” You feigned disgust but laughed and pulled him close regardless, your nose undecided about whether the smell of his sweat was gross or appealing. There was something about when you caught the two boys post-workout before they showered; you weren’t sure why, but it made you feel certain ways.

“You know you love it! Come here, both of you!” He wrapped an arm around each of you and pulled you both to his chest, Todoroki smirking and cuddling into him while you tried to pull away playfully. But he was much stronger physically, and you only squirmed as he held you in place.

“Can you go back to singing now, Y/N?” Shouto asked, his voice much more upbeat now.

“Oh, you were singing? Can I make a request!?” Izuku interjected.

“Only if you let me go so I can get up and pee.” You sat up as he released his hold on you, a triumphant grin on your face as you swung your legs out of bed and made a dash to get up. “Ha! Breakfast is mine!”

“Oh no you don’t-” Curse Izuku’s quirk. There was a reason he was the number one hero in Japan; he outmatched you not just in physical capabilities, but speed as well. You let out a happy squeal as he reached over and grabbed you from behind, lifting you up slightly and tossing you in the middle of the bed between the two boys.

“I wasn’t done cuddling yet.” Todoroki snuggled into you, and you didn’t try to move this time as Izuku curled around you from behind.

“You two were so cute this morning, all cuddled up in bed. I wish I would have taken a picture; it was adorable. And then when I gave you my hoodie, Y/N, you latched on to my arm and wouldn’t let go...what a cutie.”

Your face flushed and grew hot, your heartbeat speeding up a little as Izuku squeezed you tight and pressed his lips against your neck.

“You still owe me half a song, Y/N.”

You ran a hand through Todoroki’s hair as you spoke, “Half your song, and then coffee and breakfast, or it’ll get cold.”

“I want a song too!”

You sighed, picking up where you left off and smiling to yourself. Even if breakfast got cold, you could reheat it. But moments like these? They only happened every so often, and you always made the most of them. Breakfast would just have to wait.

[arsenicpanda]

coming from an amateur writer, do you have any tips on writing smut?

ngl, I’m an amateur myself, having not finished much smut and still not written the actual act of sex from the perspective of one of the people experiencing it. So idk why you came to me, but I am flattered. I'm not great at advice on the act of writing, but I’ll do my best to talk about process and shit.

1. Read smut. Read lots of it, read varying qualities and varying lengths and as soft-core and hard-core as you’re up for. Read it for fun, just taking it in, and then read it with a critical eye. What works? What doesn’t? Are there any tropes (general, character-specific, or ship-specific) that you like or dislike? Why? What’s especially hot? What makes you cringe? What kind of language do you like? And so on and so forth. Ask questions and answer them.

2. What’s your setup? Like, which characters, which ship, which universe? If it’s an AU, how does the AU change things from canon (especially important if you’re doing ABO, which is its own can of worms I’m not getting into here)? What’s the relationship between your characters and what’s the situation in which they fuck?

3. How do your characters feel about sex in general and with respect to the ship you’re writing? How horny are they in general, for the other character(s) in the ship, and in this specific situation? What are they into and not into? What are their previous experiences (or lack thereof) with sex and romance? What experience do the characters have with each other? Are there specific experiences they might remember and use or is there certain knowledge they do or don’t have about their partner(s) (For established ships, I like to mention previous experiences and knowledge of what the POV character’s partner(s) are into as a way to show that there is real history there. For unestablished ships, I like to include that figuring out process some and the reactions to experiencing stuff for the first time, either in general or within the specific ship, to show that newness of the relationship. Maybe there’s mention of a certain preference the POV character already knows about, or maybe the POV character makes note of a preference they learn during the fic. Stuff like that.)? How loud are they during sex? Are there any sex acts that this ship would engage in no matter what (e.g. I maintain all smut with Jughead that isn’t a quickie should include him giving some amount of oral sex)? How many times can they orgasm? How sensitive are they? What’s their refractory period? And so on, and so forth. Note: once you come up with answers for this section for your ship once, the next time you write smut for them, you’ll really only have to make adjustments according to the universe you’re in, so that’s nice.

4. What kind of fic are you writing? Is it pwp? Smut within plot? A character or relationship piece? Basically, are there any arcs to get through, what are they, and how are they going to relate to the smut? How explicit is the smut? What language do you want to use to refer to genitals and orgasms and such? What POV are you writing in? How much do your characters talk? How “realistic” are things? Are they practicing safe sex, including safe oral sex?

5. What’s actually happening? I like to plan out a smut scene ahead of time so I know how it starts, where they are physically, what the characters are doing (hand, mouth, genital, etc location and movement), how one sex act moves into another, what can be seen/heard/felt/etc based on POV, what’s physically possible at all times, if there are any accessories or toys I need to explain them owning and where they’re kept before the smut, and how it ends. It also helps me make sure the smut doesn’t significantly overlap with something I’ve already written or am planning to write. I also write an outline, which you don’t have to do, but does help if you ever go weeks or months between working on it because then when you come back you don’t have to strain to remember what the plan was. You can also just go with the flow and just write, but definitely keep location of body parts and what the POV character can actually see/hear/etc (for example, if your POV character is blindfolded or bent over, they can’t describe their partner’s face) in mind as you do.

6. Write it. Vary your sentence structure. I find good smut includes not just physical action, but emotion and especially sensation, but you might disagree. If you're struggling with repeated words and shit, maybe look for lists of words to use when writing smut. Probably look up tips for writing smut in general, ask people for advice (which you already are, so good for you!), etc. Draw upon your own experience if you have any, and if you don’t, maybe look into people’s accounts, sex tips, etc and check if any questions you have about sensation have been answered online anywhere, e.g. on reddit. But don’t try and make it perfect all at first; just write it. One approach that’s often effective is to do writing "sprints", that is, sit down for fifteen minutes and just write; you can continue for another fifteen minutes when you're done if you want, but you'd be surprised how much you can get done in fifteen minute segments over multiple days. Also, I recommend writing in google docs with the setting of “Add space after paragraph” (go to Format, then Line & paragraph spacing) for ease of transferring to AO3. Actually, here's a good guide on working from google docs an moving to AO3; look at it before you start. Google docs is also useful for when you have a beta because it lets them make suggestions instead of straight-up changing things themselves. Also, take note of where you use italics and non-italicized punctuation together (this will be useful when you need to publish to AO3).

7. Read it carefully and with a critical eye like you would someone else’s fic up in #1. Make sure that you can follow the action based solely on what you wrote and that nothing impossible or contradictory happens (e.g. teleporting body parts, a single hand in two locations at the same time, people twisting or reaching in physically impossible ways). What do you think is missing, where, why, and how might you fix it?

8. Revise it.

9. Repeat 7 and 8 as much as you desire until you’re satisfied, or at least as satisfied as you can be without peer review.

10. Send it to beta. Like, seriously, send it to beta because, if nothing else, your beta won’t know what’s supposed to be happening in the scene, so they can tell you if you’ve successfully conveyed what happens. If you have anything in particular you are uncertain about or want help with, ask your beta to pay close attention to it. Seriously, betaing is going to be much more effective if your beta knows what they should be focusing on most.

11. Repeat steps 7 and 8.

12. Title it and write a summary. Feel free to ask your beta for help here.

12. Congrats, you’re done! Transfer it to AO3 from google docs and save it as a draft. AO3 by default puts a space between italics and non-italicized punctuation, so go through your list of those combos and manually delete the extra spaces. Now add your title, tags, and summary. Don’t tag side pairings/pairings the fic doesn’t focus on in the relationship section; if you need to warn readers of them, put them in the additional tag sedition. If you’re writing an ot3+ that isn’t an established, feel free to tag the pieces of the ship involved (e.g. Betty/Jughead/Tabitha would also tag Betty/Jughead, Betty/Tabitha, and Tabitha/Jughead). But if the ot3+ is already popular within fandom, only tag the ot3+. Don’t tag characters who aren’t central to the story. Tag all warnings and kinks involved especially.

I think that’s it? I guess I might have overly walked you through, but that’s the process I recommend. I mean, I don’t always follow all the steps (While I get the gist of character/emotional arcs before I start plotting the smut, I often really nail them down after I’ve decided on the events of the smut because the latter is generally what has me writing the smut in the first place and I tend to get ahead of myself. Things would probably be easier if I didn’t do that though), but they’re good guidelines, I think? Regardless, I hope this helps!

[angst-fairygodmother]

Okay I’m currently moving and going through old trinkets and stuff to see what to get rid of and I just now really would love a Ben Hargreeves x reader fic super fluffy going through old things of yours or his and just generally being super cute 😭 ily!

A/N: So this is a Ben didn’t die AU because that was the only way I could think of for “cute” not “sad.” Also, as someone who just moved herself, good luck on your move darling, may it be as smooth and frustration free as possible. I hope you enjoy it! :) Word Count: 1702 Content Warnings: Major cheese-factor? But other than that nothing

“I’m glad we decided to get a place together,” you said, leaning against Ben’s shoulder, looking around your empty apartment.

Yours, the two of you. When you had started discussing moving in with one another, maybe a year into your relationship, you considered just adding him onto your lease, which still had several months left on it (he did not consider asking you to move in with him, because he’d been living with Vanya, and Klaus when he showed up and couldn’t wait to get out). But eventually, you two had settled on starting fresh, somewhere you had picked out together, a place for both of you to build your lives together. It had been a challenge at first, but in the end, you knew it would be worth the effort to create a home together instead of merely adopting one of you into the other’s preexistent reality.

“Me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple and smiling. “And I’ll be even more glad once we get some stuff in here.”

~

“Y/N, what about these?” Ben called to you, pulling out a battered black shoebox from the back of your closet. “You didn’t put this pair with the rest of your shoes?”

Confused what he was talking about, you set aside the plates you had been wrapping in newspaper and made your way to the bedroom.

“What are you talking ab—oh…” your eyes fell on the box in question and you felt a hot blush creep across your face and down your neck. “That’s um…”

Ben’s confusion at your discomfort only grew when the box rattled slightly, producing sounds of rustling paper rather than shoes.

“You can just ignore that. It’s just some old…I don’t even know why I kept…” you sighed in defeat as his curiosity got the better of him and he opened the box.

The box, which had laid buried in your closet for long that you’d nearly forgotten about it, was full of old newspaper and magazine clippings about the Umbrella Academy in their hay-day.

“I, uh, I can explain that?”

Ben laughed, grin wide and surprisingly nonjudgmental as he picked up the faded pages in gentle fingers, particularly when he came across one of a teen magazine quiz which said your soulmate was Diego and you had drawn frowning faces around it and marked it ‘WRONG’ in blue sharpie.

“Aw, babe, I had no idea you were such a fan,” he teased. “My brother will be so sad I stole his soulmate.”

“Yeah, I mean I guess I was into the whole Umbrella Academy thing as a kid…lots of people were…” you shrugged, hoping that your nonchalance would keep him from pressing further. “It’s nothing to make a big deal of.”

“Aw, hey, Y/N, I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he said, setting the box aside to come over and rest his hands on your shoulders. “I think it’s cute.”

You shoved his chest lightly, hearing the laughter in his voice. “Shut up.”

~

All of your things finally packed, you and Ben made your way to the apartment he shared with his siblings, which they had cleared out of for the day so you could have more space to work.

“Hey Ben,” you said, gesturing to an old-fashioned hatbox on one of his shelves. “I didn’t know you were a hat guy?”

You wished you could reach the box yourself so you could take him down and tease him properly for the contents the way he had had for your shoebox. Instead, you had to wait for him to come and be tall for you.

“Oh that. I took the box from the Academy. Although I think the hat was as likely to have been Pogo’s as it was Dad’s,” he explained.

“So if it’s not a hat, what’s in there?” you asked, practically vibrating with curiosity.

The box tucked under one arm, he pulled you closer with the other into a hug and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, before moving to sit in on the corner of his bed (piled high with the books which had been hiding this mystery box and which you were supposed to be packing at the moment), motioning for you to join him. Eagerly, you bounced across the small room to flop next to him on the floor, making him laugh as you nearly collapsed into his lap and he had to quickly lift the box above his head to keep you from crushing it.

“Well, it’s not quite the same as yours, but it turns out we were both hanging onto some things,” he explained almost shyly, carefully wiggling off the snug lid of the box.

“Oh really?” you couldn’t help the smirk that crept across your face.

The first thing he pulled out was a photobooth filmstrip. In the four little boxes were your smiling faces, your silly faces, and one where you had leaned over and kissed him, his eyes wide with shock, all in sepia, perfect moments frozen in time.

“That was our first date,” you said with surprise. “Our first official one anyway, unless you count you refusing to let go of my hand until you had escorted me safely out of the building when those lunatics decided a coffee shop was the best place to hold up for quick cash.”

“Well I couldn’t let them catch wind of priceless treasure that slipped through their fingers, and my siblings had everything under control.”

You rolled your eyes at his corniness, leaning your chin on his knee to see what else was in the box. It was full to the brim, practically overflowing with little bits of memorabilia from your time together: a newspaper clipping about the day you met, ticket stubs for concerts and movies, pictures you had taken together or of each other with his polaroid camera, love letters you’d sent each other and notes you’d left when one of you had to leave before the other woke or had something important coming up that you might need a little extra encouragement for. It was like your whole lives together so far were in that hat box and you felt your eyes welling up at the thought. It was so much better than your embarrassing childhood crush.

“You know, I thought you had only agreed to go to that carnival with me because you felt like you owed me for saving you or something,” he added softly as he leafed through.

You rolled your head to one side, cheek against his leg, so you could look up at him, sensing the insecurity in his voice.

“Ben, baby…” you sighed.

Even now, after all of this time, he still seemed to think that part of you was only there out of pity, seemed to expect you to flinch away in horror at his abilities. You knew that it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the way he and his siblings were raised and exploited by Reginald Hargreeves, but still your heart ached every time you sensed him withdrawing into those dark places.

“I know, Y/N, you don’t have to say it,” he said, guessing at how your sentence was going to finish based on your repeated past conversations about it.

“I don’t think you do,” you lifted your head up, sitting back to better look him in the eye. “I was stunned that you even noticed me let alone asked me out, because you are incredible. And I don’t just mean the superhero thing, although that is pretty sweet,” you face scrunched up and you grinned at him before sobering. “If I was only in it for pity or for fame or because I owed you, I would have bailed a long time ago, not be getting an apartment with you. You’re stuck with me. Because I love you Ben Hargreeves.”

He set the box in his hands aside, pulling you close so that he could kiss you, tender and sweet and so rawly, desperately full of love that it threatened to overwhelm you. You folded your arms over his shoulders drawing him in even more. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, gently carding your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“We should really get back to packing,” you said after sitting like that for a moment, more than a little regretful that you had to break the moment and return you both to reality.

“Wait, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you from the box,” he said sheepishly, pulling out a generic looking crumpled piece of lined paper.

“What’s this?” you asked, reaching for it.

Nervously, he handed it to you and you began to read. Almost immediately, your hand came up to cover your mouth as tears welled up in them. This wasn’t a letter, so much as the draft of a speech with words and lines and entire paragraphs crossed out, some scribbled over completely and others with a single mark through them and new words squeezed into the cramped space above them. Finally, at the bottom, circled in blue ink: Y/N, you’re incredible. Will you go out with me?

“Oh Ben,” you murmured, clutching the paper carefully to your chest, trying your hardest not to cry.

“I was so nervous to ask you out,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “And Diego kept giving me shit about how you were way out of my league, which definitely didn’t help. But for some reason you said yes, and I thought I might die, I was so happy.”

~

“So I was thinking…” you said one night, wrapping your arms around Ben as he stood in the doorway of your new living room.

“Uh-oh,” he laughed, mirroring your hold.

“We have that big open wall-space over the sofa, right?”

He nodded, looking at you, eyebrows knit together in curiosity and confusion.

“We also have two boxes of stuff that would make a really nice collage…we could maybe put them there? Sort of a wall of memories?”

His eyes sparkled as he turned to you fully. “I love it.”

[deanstop13billyjoeltraxx]

Superposition

a deancas college roommate AU :)

Chapter 12 is up on AO3! Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here. 

yes i updated twice this week my foot is broken i can’t do anything else

The Beginning (of the End)

Three Years Earlier

“You ready?”

Dean was standing by the door with a full backpack. Cas’s own was leaning against his closet. He was sitting at his computer, manically finishing a paragraph, only half-stalling.

“One second…” Cas trailed off as he ensured his document had saved properly. “Done. Yes,” he said. Dean rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile on his face.

Dean had just taken his last final that morning. It was nearly noon before they hit the road in the Impala, Dean’s twenty-minute tape-selection process doing nothing to hasten their departure. Eventually, he settled on Moving Pictures, and he pulled out of the parking lot with “Tom Sawyer” blaring through the speakers.

Cas learned many things on the two-and-a-half hour drive to Lawrence — that Dean knew every word to every song in his tape collection, and he was not afraid to demonstrate it; that Dean had driven through almost every town on I-35; and that he had a story for each. He learned that Dean could begrudgingly appreciate 80s pop when Cas flipped on the radio and allowed the entirety of “Heat of the Moment” to play, uninterrupted. He learned that Dean would often turn to sing his favorite lyric right at Cas, or to tell him music trivia, or just to give him a smile.

When they arrived at Bobby’s house in Lawrence, a gangly teen who Cas assumed to be Sam was waiting for them at the door. Dean had barely made it out of the car before Sam was running to him, pulling him into a hug. Dean was grumbling “I wasn’t gone that long,” but he was smiling and sniffling and hugging Sam just as hard. Cas hid his smile.

Sam introduced himself to Cas, all smiles and raw excitement. His openness was contagious. Sam insisted on hauling Cas’s backpack inside for him, to which Dean threw an apologetic look at Cas. Cas just grinned back at him.

Bobby Singer was gruff-voiced and stoic, but there were tears in his eyes as he gave Dean a quick hug. He shook Cas’s hand firmly and said it was real good to meet him, after everything he’s heard. Dean went beet-red when Cas cast him a glance.

Bobby brought beers and a coke for Sam. The four of them sat in Bobby’s living room, Dean and Cas replaying the semester’s highlights for a rapt audience. When Bobby left the room to order a pizza, he clapped Dean on the shoulder and said, in a low voice, “Real proud of you, kid.” Cas thought it might have been the happiest he’d ever seen Dean.

“Dean told me you’re a writer,” Sam said when it was just the three of them. “He said you were writing a book.”

Dean made an indignant sound. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you did,” Sam retorted. “You said he —”

“I said he was majoring in creative writing,” Dean interrupted, giving Sam a look.

“I am… working on something,” Cas said to Sam. “Although, I’m not quite sure it’s a book. I’ve never tried my hand at writing novels.”

“Dean says your stories are really good,” Sam said, and Dean shot him a death glare. Cas could barely contain his laughter. “What do you usually write?”

“Before this semester, I typically wrote about my own life,” Cas said, feeling slightly self-conscious. “But one of my classes challenged me to write about other things.”

“What’s your book about?” Sam asked.

“Can you contain your nerd for, like, ten minutes?” Dean grumbled. “Dude just got here, you don’t need to scare him off.”

Sam flipped him off, and Dean muttered, “Real mature.”

Cas was considering Sam’s question, trying to come up with an answer that was both vague and satisfying. “It’s about free will,” he said finally.

“Can I read it? When you’re done, I mean,” Sam said. “I love reading. I just finished Lord of the Rings last month.”

Cas smiled. “If I ever finish it, of course,” he said. “Lord of the Rings is a fantastic book series,” he added, and Sam’s face lit up.

Dean let out a long-suffering sigh when Sam started Cas on a conversation about Tolkien, and he excused himself to get another beer. When he returned, Bobby close behind him, he threw a pillow at Sam’s head, which led to Sam throwing it back, knocking Dean’s beer to the floor, and then it was war. Bobby shot Cas an eye-roll, which only made him laugh harder.

The rest of the week passed much the same. Castiel went to bed each night with sore cheeks from smiling. On Saturday, Sam roped him into pouring toothpaste into Dean’s shampoo bottle. The roar they heard from the shower that night had them nearly on the floor laughing. Dean got his revenge on Sam moments later, barreling out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel to give his brother a large, wet hug. Unbeknownst to Dean, his retaliation involved Cas as well; it took great effort to keep his eyes focused on anything but Dean’s bare midsection. 

Dean dragged him to all of his favorite spots in Lawrence, places he remembered from early childhood and past Christmases with Bobby. Watching Dean in his element, Cas gave up. Resistance was futile. Cas didn’t fall in love with Dean in Lawrence, but he stopped trying to open a parachute against it. And while that observably changed nothing, for Cas, it changed everything. He’d already lost the game — what was the point in denying himself the consolation prize?

He leaned into the ache that came with the brilliance of Dean’s smiles. He relished the knot in his stomach when Dean spoke to everyone, but looked at Cas like it was just for him. He stole glances. He hid smiles. Dean permeated his thoughts and invaded his dreams. It hurt like hell, sleeping alone on an air mattress, wanting nothing more than to be laying next to the man in the other room. But the highs were addicting, made greater by the pain that followed them. Though he’d been down this road before, hopelessly in love with someone who would never, could never love him back, Dean felt different. Dean felt all-consuming. 

Castiel had fallen, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever rise again. 

 Christmas with the Winchesters made every holiday celebration Cas had attended look boring. Ellen Harvelle and her daughter, Jo, arrived in the morning, each giving him a hug like they’d known him for years. The moment she walked in, Ellen was yelling at Dean to “get his ass in the kitchen.” He grabbed Cas by the arm and pulled him along.

Cas spent the rest of the day watching Dean and Ellen cook, helping when he could, then having a raucous meal on the floor of the living room, A Christmas Story playing on the old TV. Bobby popped open two bottles of cheap champagne, much to the chagrin of Jo and Sam, who were provided sparkling grape juice instead. They exchanged gifts, and Dean looked at Cas like he’d just won the lottery after opening Cas’s gift to him, a limited edition copy of Houses of the Holy. When Bobby and Ellen moved to the kitchen to clean up, Dean led Cas outside to the Impala.

“It was too big to hide in there, and I’m shit at wrapping, so I just left it in the car,” Dean said, a little sheepish. He opened the trunk, and Cas gasped.

Inside sat a vintage black typewriter, an Underwood Champion. The paint was chipped everywhere, the letters on the keys nearly worn-off.

“It’s not in great shape,” Dean said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “But it was the coolest one they had at the antique shop. It’s kind of useless, since you have a laptop and all, but —”

Cas interrupted him by pulling him into a tight hug. Dean made a surprised sound, but wrapped his arms around Cas’s back.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said into his shoulder. He pulled away. “It’s perfect.”

Dean shrugged, but looked pleased all the same.

“I have something else for you, too,” Cas said before he could change his mind. Dean crossed his arms.

“Dude, you already went way too hard with the vinyl,” Dean said.

Cas rolled his eyes and started his way back to the house. Dean shut the trunk and followed.

Cas grabbed his backpack and pulled out the stack of paper, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. He all but shoved it into Dean’s chest, who gave him a confused look as he took hold of the gift.

“It’s the first part of my first draft,” Cas explained as Dean read the cover page. Dean’s eyes were wide when he looked back at Cas. “It’s a selfish gift, really,” Cas said. “I want to know what you think.”

Dean broke into a slow grin. “This is awesome, Cas,” he said. “I can’t wait to read it. Thank you.”

 They were supposed to leave Lawrence on New Year’s Day, but Dean and Cas were both too hungover to even think about making the trip. They stayed an extra night, much to the delight of Sam. The three of them spent New Year’s marathoning the Harry Potter movies. As usual, Dean spent most of the time reciting lines and pointing out his favorite scenes to Cas. Eventually, Sam became irritated enough that he told Dean to shove it, to which Dean responded that Cas liked hearing his thoughts, thank you very much. Dean kicked him in the ribs when Sam rolled his eyes and mumbled something like “Sorry for messing up your game.” Cas pretended not to hear that, pretended not to see Dean give Sam a glare that said, bring that up again, and I’ll kill you. All the same, he couldn’t help but wonder… 

But, no. Dean wasn’t flirting with him, Cas knew that much. Sam just said the first thing he could think of to get a rise out of Dean. 

They didn’t end up leaving until after dinner the next day, Sam and even Bobby pulling both of them in for hugs. Dean turned on the radio for the first half of the drive, but kept the volume low. He was quiet, and although Cas wanted to ask, he allowed Dean to sit in whatever he was feeling, watching the flat landscape pass outside the passenger window.

Dean had forgotten to tank up in Lawrence, so they stopped for gas in Emporia. It was dark by then, the unnatural white fluorescents shining starkly against the night sky. Cas stayed in the passenger seat as Dean pumped the gas. Cas watched him intently from the safety of the cab, another stolen moment wherein he allowed the full depth of his feelings to overcome him. It hurt, as it always did, but he thought the pain of wanting what he could never have was becoming softer, more bearable, like he might be able to live with it.

Dean opened the car door, and a rush of cold air assaulted the cab. “It’s nice out tonight,” Dean said. Cas hummed in agreement, contemplating Dean’s languid movements as he pulled his hoodie over his head. It was torturous, the way his shirt rode up to reveal a torso chiseled like marble, dusted with freckles. It was impossible not to stare. He looked away just before Dean looked at him again. 

“I’m gonna go grab a snack,” he said. “You want anything?” 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Cas said.

Dean returned momentarily with an already-half empty package of powdered donuts, grinning widely. Cas rolled his eyes as Dean reentered the cab. 

“Prudent,” he deadpanned. 

“These things are fucking magic,” Dean said before making a completely inappropriate noise as he popped another into his mouth. Cas averted his eyes. 

“Do you eat the most unhealthy foods in existence on purpose?” Cas asked. 

Dean looked at him with mock affront. “I just eat what tastes good,” he said. 

The Impala roared to life. Dean opened the window to toss the empty package into a nearby trash can, dusting his fingers off in the air. He turned back to Cas, the right side of his mouth covered in powdered sugar. 

“Ready to go?” 

Cas frowned. “You look like a small child in a donut shop,” he said. 

“What?” Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth, then raised his eyebrows at Cas. “Better?” 

“Barely,” Cas said, his frown deepening. And then his hand was moving without his permission, reaching up to dust the remaining white from the side of Dean’s mouth. It might have been nothing, were it not for the fact that his thumb lingered just a moment too long. Cas was staring at Dean’s lips, the breath stolen from his lungs. Shit. 

“Cas?” Dean said, an eyebrow cocked.

Cas pulled his hand back like he’d been burned. “What?” He croaked. His throat felt like sandpaper. 

Dean was looking at him with a mix of curiosity and melancholy, and Cas was done for. After all this time, every trip to the dining hall, every movie watched on a shared beanbag, every midnight trip to Taco Bell, it was here that Cas put the final nail in the coffin. It was at a shitty gas station in the middle-of-nowhere, Kansas, that Dean discovered his secret. 

“Nothing,” Dean said slowly. As they pulled out of the gas station parking lot, Dean didn’t even bother to turn on the radio. Cas only dared a single glance in Dean’s direction, but when he did, he found Dean’s eyebrows knit in concentration, his jaw set, like this drive was the most important thing he’d ever done.

The air felt like it was about to condense with the weight of the silence. That final hour of the drive had Cas fidgeting, turning his phone over and over in his hands. Dean was perfectly still, hardly moving his eyes from the road. Dean, the definition of nervous energy, wholly devoted to a single task. Cas could have laughed at the irony if he hadn’t been silently begging for immediate reorganization into an inanimate object. 

Because nothing in the history of unrequited love confessions could beat this. Cas didn’t have a prayer. And maybe Dean would pretend he hadn’t seen it, maybe they’d never talk about it. But everything would be different. Dean would find excuses to miss dinner, Cas would pretend to be exhausted every Tuesday night. Dean would break the news that he’d found a different roommate for the following school year. Cas would remark that they should keep in touch at the year’s end, and Dean would agree with a clap on the back, and they would never speak to each other again. 

Finally, mercifully, Dean pulled into the dorm parking lot. Cas exhaled hard, as if he’d been holding his breath. Dean gave him a quizzical glance, which Castiel promptly ignored. When Dean shifted into park, Cas had his hand on the door handle immediately. He was about to open it, to take a breath of frigid, fresh air, when Dean grabbed his other wrist. 

“Cas.” Dean’s voice was barely above a whisper, gravelly and sincere in a way that sent a shock through Cas’s spine.

Cas turned to face him. “What?” Cas said, trying to ignore the flames creeping up his arm.

“Thanks for, uh,” Dean started, but he cleared his throat. “Thanks for coming. To Lawrence.”

“Of course,” Cas said, and his voice sounded dead, even to him. He tried to infuse it with some vitality as he finished. “Thank you for inviting me. I had a great time.”

Dean nodded. His hand was still wrapped around Cas’s wrist, and he was looking out of the windshield.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t we… Go inside?” It came out like a question.

Dean’s eyes flicked to his. “Yeah,” he said, but he still wasn’t letting go. And Cas thought he should look away, should open the door, but then the inaction lasted too long. Something about the way Dean was looking at him burned, and he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, like there was something he was trying to convince himself to say. 

Cas wasn’t sure if he really whispered Dean’s name, or if he imagined it. All he knew was, one moment Dean was staring at Cas, lips parted. The next, there was a hand on the back of Cas’s neck and stubble against his cheek and a pair of lips rough against his. Dean was kissing him, and Cas had imagined it so many times he could do nothing but freeze and hope he never woke up from this dream.

Dean pulled away abruptly, too soon, and the give-or-take two feet between them might have ripped a hole in the space-time continuum, it was so cosmically wrong. 

“Shit, that was — I’m so sorry, Cas I didn’t —” Dean was holding his head in his hands, but his words were taking eons to reach Cas’s ears. He just sat, staring in disbelief. Every place Dean had touched was scorched with the absence of him. “I’ll email someone — I’ll try to move out for this semester — fuck, I’m such an idiot,” Dean was saying, and those words shocked Cas back to his plane of existence. 

“Move out?” He croaked, and his voice sounded foreign to his own ears. “Why?” 

Dean looked at him in anguish. “I shouldn’t have — I’m an idiot.” His voice sounded broken and raspy. “I fucked up on Thanksgiving, and now, shit, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You remember Thanksgiving?” Cas blurted.

Dean tilted his head. “How could I forget that?”

Cas furrowed his brow. “What exactly was your mistake on Thanksgiving?”

Dean stared at him. “The whole damn thing, Cas,” he sputtered. “And now this, and, goddammit, you’re my best friend and I can’t control myself long enough to…” Dean trailed off, and Cas finally understood. Dean had misinterpreted his shock, felt Cas’s stiff and tardy reply and taken it to mean he wasn’t interested. A bubble of hysterical laughter escaped him at the irony.

Dean’s expression darkened. “Yeah, this is fucking hilarious, Cas —”

Cas cut him off. He closed the distance between them, and he could have laughed at the woeful inadequacy of his fantasies when compared to this. It was stilted and desperate, and the center console was digging into Cas’s knee, and an uncomfortable cold was seeping into the cab. But Dean’s fingers were tangled in his hair and he tasted like Diet Coke and cigarettes and he was muttering Cas with every breath and Cas thought he might die in that parking lot because he simply would not allow this to end.

The world had shifted when they finally parted. Dean was looking at him with wonder and confusion. Cas knew he was putting on a similar display. It was dark. Dean’s face was only half-illuminated in the parking lot, but everything about him was brilliant. It was almost too much, like maybe if Cas looked away he’d find himself blind. Cas felt the near-overwhelming urge to kiss him again, to rediscover every plane of Dean’s face he’d already committed to memory.

But he remained in his place, half twisted in the passenger’s seat, because this demanded all manner of explanation. Cas swallowed hard.

“You…” Dean’s voice was a gravelly whisper. “What?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Cas replied, breathless.

“You’re not — You’re not pissed?”

“That depends,” Cas said, his heart hammering against his chest. “What was that?” 

“I —” Dean started, but stopped himself. His leg was bouncing rapidly, and he reached into the pocket of his jeans, presumably for a cigarette. Cas grabbed him by the shoulder. 

“Dean,” he said in a stern voice. 

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Dammit, Cas,” he said. “What do you want me to say?” 

“The truth,” Cas said, a little taken aback. 

“The truth,” Dean repeated, his eyes remaining resolutely shut. Another deep breath. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this,” he said finally.

And, whatever Cas had been expecting, it wasn’t that. “What?” 

“I was gonna — I dunno, I was gonna do it right. I’ve been meaning to do it right, ask you to fucking dinner or something, but then I thought you hated me after Thanksgiving, and you were busy all the time, and then we were in Lawrence, and —”

“We go to dinner every night,” Cas said. Dean wasn’t making sense. 

Dean finally opened his eyes, only to give Cas a death-stare. “No, dumbass, something a little nicer than the friggin’ dining hall.” He sighed. “But, of course, in my car. What am I, sixteen?” 

“A date,” Cas said, finally catching up. “You were going to ask me on a date.” 

Dean winced a little. “Yeah.” 

“But you didn’t —”

“Thanks for the reminder.” 

“— Because you thought I hated you.” 

“A little bit.” 

Cas smiled incredulously. “If this is a joke, it’s a terrible one.” 

Dean glared at him. “Not a joke, Cas.” 

“But you’re not — Dean, I thought you were straight.” 

Cas felt bad about the statement immediately as Dean winced, but it was true. Nothing was adding up. Dean had never shown an interest in men before, at least not around Cas, and Cas didn’t think he could stand to be Dean’s experimental phase. But he reeled his insecurity back in as he added, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m just… Confused.”

Dean let out a hard breath. “No, I know, I know,” Dean said. “I dunno. Guess I never really thought about it before.” He paused. “I was too scared to think about it.” 

Cas felt his heart break at that. There was a story there, a million things to unpack, but it was obviously a feat for Dean to say as much as he already had. Cas left it alone. 

Dean cleared his throat. “Point is,” he said, “this was a long time coming, but I’m an idiot and couldn’t work up the balls.” He was staring hard at his hands, the admission taking enormous effort. 

A little nervous without the excuse of the heat of the moment, Cas put a hand on Dean’s neck and kissed him, again, short and tender. “You’re not an idiot,” Cas said. 

“Guess not,” Dean said through a breathless laugh. 

Cas cocked his head. “You really thought I hated you?” He asked, his eyes searching Dean’s.

“What else was I supposed to think?” Dean asked. “I thought that was it, you were done with me.” Dean furrowed his brow. “Why’d you do that?”

“Avoid you?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you didn’t — if you weren’t mad.” 

Cas stared at him. “Dean, I can barely remember anything we did on Thanksgiving, much less anything I might have said.” He paused. “And then we were… I didn’t know what to think. Not to mention, up until about five minutes ago, I thought you were — that you weren’t interested.” Cas ran a hand through his hair. “I was worried I might ruin our friendship.”

Something like realization dawned on Dean’s face. He let out another laugh. “Guess we’re a couple of dumbasses.” 

“Maybe,” Cas said with a small smile. “Let’s go inside.”

Dean nodded, and they exited the car and made their way upstairs. And it might have been any other night, save their shoulders touching, fingers brushing, silence charged with something new. Cas unlocked their door, letting Dean in. When he turned after shutting the door behind him, Dean was there, and Cas didn’t even have time to turn on the light before he was shoved hard against the door. Dean’s mouth was hot and his hands were desperate. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Cas thought they should probably talk about this, about them, but then Dean’s breathing hitched as Cas caught his bottom lip between his teeth, and the thoughts stopped coming.

 Cas’s bare back was cold against the linoleum floor, but Dean was warm against his chest. He stared at the ceiling in the dark, his mind scrambled from pleasure and the shock of being wanted.

“Cas,” Dean said against his chest. Cas threaded his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Yes?”

Dean shifted, perching on his arm, looking down at Cas. “You — you want this?” He said.

Cas stretched his arms up and rested his head on top of his hands. “This?” He asked. Dean was being intentionally vague, but Cas couldn’t exist in limbo. He had to hear the words, as clear as Dean could make them.

Dean gave him a look for a moment, but relented. “Yeah, I know. Okay. This,” he said, gesturing between the two of them. “You and me. Us. Like this.”

“Oh,” Cas said lightly. “That’s what you meant?” Dean rolled his eyes and shoved him. Cas laughed. “The answer is yes.”

A small smile, but it faltered as Dean spoke again. “Are you sure?” He said. “I don’t — I might be really shit at this, you know.”

And Cas did know. There were a million little complications, things they would have to figure out, problems he hadn’t even begun to consider. That might have been terrifying, but the prospect of never having Dean, that was worse.

“I’m sure,” he said quietly. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, no hesitation.

Cas sighed as Dean traced circles on his chest. “It’s worth it to try.”

Cas was in between sleep and consciousness when something warm shifted around his back. Whatever dream he’d been having, it felt remarkably real. 

“Wake up, dumbass,” he heard Dean say affectionately. Cas didn’t want this dream to end; he could steal a few more minutes of sleep. He burrowed his head deeper into the pillow, willing the dream to continue. 

But then there was a pair of lips against his ear, and they were entirely real. “C’mon,” Dean said in a low voice. “First day of class.” 

For a moment, Cas was confused. Dean was in his bed. Why was Dean in his bed? But as he rubbed his eyes, the events of the night before came crashing into him. 

Oh. 

Nerves pooled in the pit of his stomach. He half expected Dean to rush out some kind of apology, to tell him that everything had been a big mistake. But when Cas turned to face him, Dean was beaming. 

“Mornin’,” he said. 

“Good morning,” Cas said, awestruck. Dean needed a shave, and his hair was flat on one side from sleep, but Cas still felt his breathing hitch as he stared at Dean, unfettered for the first time. Beautiful. 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Cas said with a nod. Dean moved to climb out of the bed, but he paused. He turned back toward Cas and kissed him, slow and deep. When he finally broke away, Dean was smiling even wider. 

“Awesome,” he said, earning a snort from Cas. 

If Cas had worried about Dean’s intentions, it was unfounded. At lunch, as Dean talked to Cas like he was the only person at the table, Meg rolled her eyes and told them to “get a room.” Dean responded by throwing an arm around Cas and saying, “Maybe later.” Meg gaped at the two of them for about ten seconds before regaining composure, shifting to more general conversation. Cas received a text from her immediately after they parted ways. 

MM (1:12 p.m.)

holy shit!!!! 

MM (1:13 p.m.)

ur going to tell me everything tmrw

At first, Cas wasn’t sure how to respond, because he wasn’t sure what he was allowed to say. That is, until Dean answered a call from Benny, saying, “Sorry, man, I’m not going tonight, I have a date. Yeah, with Cas. Shut up.” Cas smiled to himself as he replied to Meg. 

CN (2:32 p.m.)

Absolutely.

The three weeks that followed were easily the best of Cas’s life. The rituals remained unchanged; Tuesday was movie night, dinner was at seven-p.m. in the dining hall, late nights doing homework demanded a fast food run. But little things shifted; Dean made it to his birthday without going to a single party, and his bed remained perpetually made. Cas amassed a greater collection of t-shirts that weren’t his, and he only ran when he knew Dean was in class. 

Cas woke up to Dean shifting around him as he attempted to get out of bed for an early class. Cas slung an arm tightly around his midsection in protest. 

“Too early,” he mumbled. 

He heard Dean chuckle. “I thought class was important,” he said, but he shifted closer to Cas nonetheless. 

Cas grumbled something incomprehensible as he pulled out his phone. When he saw the date, however, he shot up, suddenly wide awake. 

At Dean’s look of confusion, he said, “It’s your birthday.” 

“Yeah.”

Cas leaned down and kissed Dean deeply. He pulled away to mutter, “Happy birthday, Dean,” against his lips. Dean closed the small distance as soon as Cas had said the words, and this time it was decidedly heavier, hot breaths mixing and hands pulling each other closer. 

They were interrupted by Dean’s second alarm. Dean scowled as he turned it off. He looked at Cas expectantly, but Cas had his arms folded against his chest. 

“Class is important,” he reminded Dean. 

“But it’s my birthday.”

“And?” 

“Asshole,” Dean grumbled, but he kissed Cas on the jaw as he climbed down from the bed. He put on a pot of coffee as Cas followed him off the bed, wrapping his arms around Dean from the back.

“I got you something,” Cas said into Dean’s shoulder. Dean twisted around to face him. 

“Cas, you didn’t have to do that. I told you, birthday’s are dumb anyway.” 

Cas made a face. “I happen to be endlessly thankful for your birth.” 

Dean shook his head, but he was smiling. “What is it?” 

“You’ll find out on Friday when we go to Benny’s.” 

“We’re going to Benny’s?”

Cas bit the inside of his cheek. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” he said, “Benny and Charlie both insisted. But you once told me you have a strong aversion to surprise parties.” 

“Y’all are throwing me a surprise party?” 

“No,” Cas rushed. “No, that’s why I’m telling you right now.” 

“But it’s a party.” 

“Yes.” 

“You couldn’t have told me yesterday? How long have y’all been planning this?” 

“Only a week.” 

“A week?” Dean paused, his eyes narrowed. “Who all’s gonna be there?” Dean grumbled, already trying to assess the threat of too much attention on him at once. 

“Just Benny, Charlie, and Charlie’s girlfriend,” Cas placated. 

Dean relaxed at that. “And you, right?” 

“I’ll come if you want me there,” Cas said, a little sheepish. He hadn’t really planned on going, wanting to give Dean some time alone to spend with his friends. Cas felt like he’d accidentally achieved a monopoly on Dean’s attention. 

Dean gaped at him. “Dude, of course I want you there.” 

Cas gave him a soft smile. “Then I’ll be there.” 

Dean almost convinced Cas to let him skip class — almost — but with great effort, he resolutely pushed Dean out the door. 

“Damn, all right, if you want to get rid of me that bad,” Dean griped, smirking. “See you later.” 

“Goodbye, Dean,” Cas said with a smile. 

 They didn’t make it to the party. 

Friday afternoon, after spending far too long in bed, Cas was sitting on the beanbag, Dean’s head resting on his lap. They’d taped Dean’s comforter over the window, leaving the room completely dark, save for the film playing on Dean’s television. 

“Fucking asshole,” Dean was saying as Neil’s father came on screen. Cas hummed in agreement, paying more attention to his fingers threading their way through Dean’s hair. Suddenly, Dean’s phone began to ring. He shifted to check the caller ID, then stood up quickly. 

“Wait, pause it, I gotta take this,” he said. Cas obliged. “Hey, Bobby! How’s it goin’?” 

Cas reached above his head to stretch, but he faltered when he heard Dean say, “Dad? What’s wrong?” 

Cas stood abruptly as Dean’s phone slipped out of his hand, shattering upon impact with the linoleum. He was standing, his jaw clenched, staring at absolutely nothing. 

“Dean?” 

Dean remained silent, no indication that he had heard Cas. Cas placed a hand on his left shoulder, prompting Dean into movement. 

Still saying nothing, Dean dumped the contents of his backpack onto the floor, filling it with things from his wardrobe. Cas followed him, frantic. 

“What are you doing? Dean, talk to me,” he said. But Dean was on a mission, it seemed. After stuffing his feet into unlaced boots, he threw the door open and stalked out. 

At a complete loss, Cas pulled on his own shoes and followed, making sure to grab his key as he shut the door to their room behind him. Dean was already halfway to the stairs, and Castiel ran to catch up with him. Dean let the door to the stairs shut in Cas’s face. 

“Dean!” Cas called. Dean was fleeing down the stairs like his life depended on it. Cas only barely caught up to him as they reached the ground floor and exited to the parking lot. 

Finally within reach, Cas grabbed Dean’s shoulder, hard. Dean slowed, but didn’t stop. 

“Dean,” Cas started. Still no response. “Dean! What happened?” 

They had reached the Impala. Dean unlocked the car and threw his bag haphazardly in the front seat. He stared resolutely at the ground. 

“I gotta go, Cas. I’ll explain everything later.” The first words Dean had spoken to Cas in nearly ten minutes. His voice was thick. 

“Dean, where are you going?” Cas asked, desperate. “The party — there’s class on Monday!”

Dean looked up at him then, and Cas was struck by the mixture of fury and sadness in his eyes. “Screw the party and screw class. Family emergency.” 

Cas watched helplessly as Dean sped out of the parking lot, taking the turn so fast the back end of the Impala swayed a little. He stood in the middle of the parking lot for what felt like an eternity, the cold January air seeping into his bones. Eventually, he made his way back to the dorms, sighing in relief as the warm air of the hallway hit him. 

When Cas reentered the room, he stared at Dean’s shattered cell phone. He didn’t even bother to clean up the mess, just let out a choked sigh. Cas fell into the beanbag, his head in his hands.

——

tag list! let me know if you want to be added/removed :)

@nguyenxtrang @castielsbeeslippers @fortiusnitius

[bigskydreaming]

How do you tackle this set of ADD/ ADHD problems? You start writing, you veer off path, rambling now, oh no it's becoming a book have to make conscious effort to end this train of written thoughts! Vs. Revising! Editing! Going over the entire thing you wrote! I have the added bonus of skipping phrases, from one word per paragraph To Whole Sentences! And I somehow skip again during revisions. I hate it here!!

Ooof. Its not easy and takes a lot of trial and error to figure out, at least for me. Its also a big part of why my posting style is the way it is....it is really easy for me to draft and write a lot quickly, but the editing and revising process takes me SO much longer because I have to keep.....resetting my eyes back to the top as I realize halfway through editing a paragraph that I’ve gotten distracted and allowed my mind to wander even while I kept moving my eyes down the page as though that actually accomplishes any editing....lol. So I like....have to prioritize. I pretty much have to stockpile my editing/revising projects for when I can afford to devote a full day of medication to the process because like.....its one of the things that I absolutely just CAN NOT pull off when not on my medication, I just.....keep going through the motions and never quite pay enough attention to actually be worth it. 

Luckily, over the years of kinda....developing my own inadvertent coping mechanisms for my ADHD while growing up, since I didn’t get my diagnosis until much later in life, like....I somewhere along the line got pretty good at drafting things in such a way that I don’t tend to NEED a ton of edits. Like my drafts are always fairly clean and legible and say what I want them to say....they just say a lot more than I need to say too, lol. Essentially, my drafts ARE my posting style, that’s what they look like, and in my editing process, I just....take a weedwhacker and hack and slash my way through the unnecessary stuff and trim things down until I get an actual polished product.

But because like, that editing process is so, so crucial to my process and like, I HAVE to be on my meds during it and whatnot....that’s why I don’t really bother editing my posts or trying to keep them short and just....word vomit on the page whatever I’m trying to spit out as quickly as it comes and then just move on to the next thing. I could make each of my posts as polished as any fic I write, lol, its just.....in order to do that I’d end up writing 75% less than I do as is, because its not the writing that takes up my time and focus, its the editing and trimming. 

So basically I mean, for me, personally, it ultimately came down to figuring out what my personal priorities were and aligning this with my medication schedule/how fast I metabolize and building an actual writing and editing schedule and process around this, specifically in regards to Official Projects I’ve dedicated myself too.....

And then the tradeoff, the ‘sacrifice’ so to speak, in order to allow me to maximize the amount of time-while-medicated I can devote to the stuff where that’s most crucial, like editing, is that like....I give myself permission to just NOT regulate the stuff I do where ‘good enough’ will suffice. I mean, I’m perfectionist as hell, so it wasn’t easy to train myself into accepting it as a necessity, lol, but at the end of the day, like I’ve always said - my blog is just my personal thing, everything I post is stuff I just need to get out of my head and onto a page somewhere as much as it is stuff I want or need to put in front of other peoples’ eyes.....so, y’know, at the end of the day, it doesn’t HAVE to be anything other than what it is, the way I do it. I can post whatever whenever and I don’t need to be like, on my meds or on a specific schedule or routine to do stuff like this, and it occasionally grates because sometimes like when I AM on my meds and wrap up a work session early and pop on tumblr while still medicated, I look at some of my posts and I’m just like oh for fuck’s sake, why. LOL. But. Whatever. Y’know?

So that’s my advice I guess. I know the Trials of Rambling Exponential Explosion of Growth from one totally manageable idea into like, a whole fucking book when it really didn’t have to be like that, brain, and its annoying and can definitely end up cutting into your productivity despite being ironically ‘more’ productive......and for me, the answer ended up just being....to stop seeing it as a problem. Giving myself a break and not trying to tell myself it was an Issue that I needed to find a solution to, that this was me doing writing wrong and I was never gonna get anything done this way. 

And instead I just kinda....let it be what it is and found a way to repurpose my rambling kind of writing and the time/energy I’d felt was being ‘wasted’ by that, like.....instead of finding a way to stop it from happening, instead I just focused on figuring out a way to get something useful out of it when and where it does happen....when ultimately, it was going to happen no matter what. 

And that eventually ended up being like....this blog. My posting style and habits and my just...using it to burn off the more frenetic of my writing energy so that when I actually want to write in a ‘productive’ sense as in something that will be polished, that I concentrate on editing, that’s meant to not just be read but ENJOYED as a reading experience....I HAVE the time and mental space and focus and spot carved out in my medication schedule that I can devote to that, because I’m not wasting all of THAT stuff trying to just.....rework the things I crank out in my more manic-writing-sessions, like my posts, which are ‘good enough’ as is and don’t ACTUALLY need the benefit of me being on my meds or spending time editing and revising them into a more polished form....not when I don’t actually need them to be that in order to serve the function I’m intending them to be.

Basically......instead of trying to make everything I write perfect and necessitating I cut my content production in half and settle for only getting a much more finite amount of the stuff in my head that’s labeled To Be Written, like, from there and onto the page....I let the stuff that doesn’t actually need to be peffect have permission to exist just as it is the way it comes out initially, even when its all rambling and spat out in a rush...and save my polish and the physical and mental resources I need to devote to something to MAKE it polished for like.....just the stuff I really need or want to be that way in the end.

And that way, I don’t waste my time essentially just doing the same stuff twice and get to keep my production levels up to something I’m happy with instead of down where I’d constantly be kicking myself about how little content I actually manage to get out into the world and instead is just stuck up in my head driving me nuts and annoying me.

[muggle-writes]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! What are some ways you organize your notes/writing thoughts?

thanks for asking! Sorry I'm answering late, I had a rough headache and tried to sleep it off for most of Saturday so it's like 2am Sunday now (3am when I finished because I'm tired enough to have very little filter which means it's ramble time) but I'm awake so I'm answering.

to be honest, it depends on where I am and whether I have free time where there's nothing else I "should" be doing.

if I'm out and about, or if I "should" be doing something else I'll be writing on my phone. usually with a program called Quip, occasionally with a program called Bookstack. I'm out at my QP's right now, and she and my wife are talking video games, and I don't have my laptop handy so I'm writing in Quip. it's kind of a dropbox/google docs alternative, and it has a not-terrible app. I sort everything into a personal writing folder (i used to use quip for other things too, which I kept in other folders since it has a decent checklist ability) and if I expect something to be a long story I'll create a folder for it and put different scenes in different documents in that folder. if I expect it to be short, I'll just create a document straight in the writing folder and hopefully remember to give it a descriptive name. If I'm intending to write something especially short and post it immediately, like this, I won't usually give it a title. sometimes this bites me in the butt but mostly it's fine. I write things in quip rather than directly in the tumblr editor for two related reasons: tumblr mobile has a really annoying habit of eating my longer posts instead of posting them. i haven't figured out if this is more related to the length of the text added, or the length of time I have the draft open. on top of that, if I type it in tumblr mobile and try to make a backup copy, the largest unit I can copy at a time is a paragraph, not the whole document, so it would be a hassle to copy out. often, for posts this long, I wind up copying in three or four paragraphs at a time, saving the draft again, and waiting for tomorrow to display my changes before I click edit draft and add another few. it's easier to copy text into tumblr than out of it

if I'm on bookstack (a mediocre Google docs/scrivener alternative but it's open source and my wife runs an instance so I've tried it out. among other problems, it doesn't have an app so I have to write through my mobile browser and I have to have internet. quip stores locally regardless and syncs with the internet when possible so I tend to use quip instead) When I'm using bookstack, I'm forced to use its organization system. broadest to narrowest categories: shelves books, chapters, pages. you can put pages directly into books, or into chapters. I usually use pages as scenes, and keep them sorted into chapters. in theory I like bookstack but it needs some major improvements (options for variable theme, offline mode, general mobile UI, etc) before I would actually recommend it.

If I have my laptop I occasionally write in bookstack but more often Microsoft Word (I got a free student copy when I was in college and whenever my current laptop dies I'm going to get Open Office or Libre Office instead rather than pay for Microsoft.)

I sort my writing into fanfiction and original works. there's very little in the original works side, sadly. Within fanfiction, since I generally publish to ao3 as I go, I separate it into folders incomplete and completed. within each, I sort it into fandoms, within incomplete, I then have a folder for each fic, and then documents titled "published" and "unpublished" within each. within completed, there's individual documents for each fic (equivalent to "published" within incomplete) I cut and paste things between documents, or move documents around as necessary

for editing, it's a different story:

in Word, if I'm writing a variant of a scene I've already written, and I want to keep the old one and decide later which one I like better, I'll strikethrough the old paragraph and write another. If I get several of these I'll color code the old scenes so I can tell which one's which (sometimes I reuse parts of sentences in like. 3/5 variants so they're usually intertwined. my drafts get colorful) If I'm going in a really drastically different direction, sometimes I'll create a new document and in the title describe what the difference is.

In Quip (actually, in bookstack too, when I'm on mobile, so probably it's just my phone keyboard not playing nice with long documents. somehow I never have the same issue when I'm writing directly in the tumblr app) if I try to select large sections and replace or delete them, it deletes significantly more than I want it to, probably twice as many characters? twice as many minus one? idk. if I'm not happy with something in quip, it's a little glitchy about strikethrough so I'll just put a few blank lines, a line of squiggles (~) and/or an all caps "ALTERNATELY" and another line break and then the replacement.

anyway. that's all for when I'm composing prose (or publishable poetry)

when I'm scribbling down notes to keep them because I'm plotting a longer story or because I want to write but don't have time, I'll open up one of the above programs (usually quip or word) and create a bullet point list of sentence fragments and notes. I put major points at the top level of bullet points, indent for the next level of detail under each one. the top level bullets are usually vaguely in chronologial (or storytelling) order, but flashbacks/"this sets up for..." often show up in the nested bullets.

If I have a really thorough outline, with a full sentence for every scene, in word I'll make a copy of the outline with a page break between each outline point, and then I'll skip around between scenes based on my inspiration and write the scenes in their corresponding place in the draft so that the end result is pretty effortlessly in order. (in bookstack, I'll create "pages" for each scene. in quip I put three or four line breaks between the scene prompts or occasionally split them into separate documents.)

[artsybookwyrm]

Meet the writer tag

t  GGot tagged by both @authorkimberlygrey and @chariot-writes , so I guess I don’t have much choice.

First set of questions:

1)What is your least favorite genre to read/write? Non-fiction romance. If I wanted reality, I would go outside. If I wanted relationship drama, I would make friends with people I usually avoid.

2)Favorite character archetype. Thief with a heart of gold. Or any chaotic neutral/good characters.

3)Describe your writing space. Take two desks. Put them in an L formation. Two monitors, a drawing tablet, a printer on one, and a stack of marker pencil cases which are bigger than A¤ pages when open. Tons of documents and crafts bits on the other desk. Now find those few empty spots. Plot a notebook down there. That’s my writing spot.

4)Which of your characters would you get along with the most?  Aspen. We’re both quite anxious people who are happy to spend time with friends in a way that involves simply co-existing in the same room while we each do our own thing.

5)The least? Alastair. They’re a drama queen (not to mention evil and set on world destruction, but who cares about that, right?).

6)What word to you constantly misspell no matter how many times you type it? Depends on how fast I write. Usually: finally (I keep only typing one l). If I type fast: the (I keep writing the letters in the wrong order, with hte being the most common combination).

7)When you write: background noise or no?  Background noise.

8)What is your favorite part of your WIP? Character banter.

9)Least favorite?  The plot. Depending on the wip, it’s either unfinished, or I believe it’s boring and I have no clue how to fix it (been troubling me for over a year. Yay!).

10)What is your wordcount goal? I don’t exactly have one, but I guess 100K+?

Second set of questions:

1. What’s your oldest WIP, and old is it? What inspired you to start it? Depending on how you look at it, I have two answers: 1. Demons’ Gate, a bit over 2 years old. Started it because I was daydreaming when bored and then decided ‘fuck it, I’ll waste my summer by writing’. 2. ‘Til Heaven Does Us Part. 4+ years old, but only picked it up and seriously considered actually writing it half a year ago. I read a book, and it was so shit and annoying that I told myself ‘fuck you, I can do this better’.

2. What’s your biggest pet peeve when it comes to writing? Not finding that one word or that one thing needed to fix a plothole. Brain, stop giving me new wip ideas, fix this one!

3. What scene did you enjoy writing the most, out of all your WIPs? What scene did you enjoy writing the least? Most: the finale for Demons’ Gate’s first draft. Least: Cyrus having to deal with a fellow Master Magpie (aka another master thief).

4. What’s your favorite trope? "Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” Jump cut to the absolute opposite.

5. Which of your protagonists do you relate to the most? JKL440. I too am constantly second-guessing most of my choices or social interactions.

6. What’s the worst writing experience you’ve ever had with another writer, anywhere, since you’ve started writing? Was critiquing a writer’s work and they kept dismissing most things I said.

7. What character from a famous story, book/movie/comic/game, or otherwise, do you despise to most? Why? I mostly watch stuff and forget it right away, so this is a difficult question. Maybe Solas from Dragon Age Inquisition? He’s a dismissive egoist focused on the past. Sure, there are some good sides to him, but deciding on just trying to turn the clock back and being okay with killing many people in the process instead of just helping get the world to a better future is a dick move of the highest degree.

8. What’s your favorite line of dialogue you’ve ever written? There are a few contenders, at least when only counting single lines of dialogue: "Give me a minute I need to beat someone's face in with this peace treaty."

"If your rings don't form brass knuckles, then you're not wearing enough."

"A host must be present at their party at all times as a social nicety to all the assassins currently trying to kill them. Honestly, the rudeness." "Solitary confinement tends to make people lose sanity within the week. So think about it: beings of unimaginable power locked away for millennia, unable to die and only their own minds for company in a land of eternal nothing? I'd rather not believe in gods, even if just for their sake."

9. Who’s the worst character you’ve ever written, in terms of morality? Alastair, who’s basically a world-destroying demon lord. Can’t get much worse than that, can it? Except maybe this one unnamed dragon who got nicknamed ‘Steve’, who captures people to put in his collection by locking them into these dreamscapes. Treats them almost like toys.

10. Do you prefer happy endings or bad endings? Or do you prefer the middle ground? Middle ground, I guess. At one point I kill the main character and revive them not a paragraph later to coin the happy ending, but the epilogue does conclude that the main characters are all now dead of old age except one immortal left behind to grieve. In the other, the protagonist has to kill their SO but that saves the world which was their goal in their first place. So middle ground it is. I’m not tagging anyone because most of the people I know already got tagged.

[thoughtfulmindings]

Highschool Retrospective

August 2021 

Ten years ago, I chronicled my feelings about my last year of high school and my experiences. Every month, starting from August, I wrote a paragraph about how I felt and what I was doing. Like most things in my life, I did not complete this retrospective. I stopped chronicling in February, around 4 months before graduation. However, I kept my draft saved. Now that my education has stopped in its entirety, and 10 years have passed since I first started the retrospective, I figured now was as good of a time as any to post it in all of its (mostly) unedited glory. 

August 2011

So in a couple of days, I am about to start my last year of highschool. It’s looking like a bittersweet moment. Part of me is super excited because well its my last year! I've been wanting to experience grade 12 for a long time and now I'm so close! Also, I'm so ready to stop going to my high school and facing the same drama over and over again. I'm ready to embrace the world and start working toward my dreams. But then a part of me recoils at the thought of being out there, in the "real world" as youngster's so eloquently put it. I don't want to leave my friends. I want to continue spending time with them just laughing and growing, not worrying about the future. I don't want to leave them and lose our closeness. I don't want to leave the safe place I've created with my school and all of them.

September 2011

So a month has gone by since school started. We got some new students, but on the whole, it seems like nothing else has changed. Everyone is still the same person with the same quirks and habits. First month has been a little challenging as there is a lot more homework this year and it’s ridiculous how I find myself with so little time. I'm also class president which means that I'm constantly thinking of ways to improve our grad class legacy and make everyone bond closer. As well as thinking for long periods of times, I'm also devoting myself to my studies as I'm aiming for class valedictorian. Life is definitely a tad bit more stressful than I'm used to but its not a panicky stress, its more of a motivated stress. As its very early into the year, I'm saved from the panic of applying to universities and working on my grad portfolio like crazy. As things go, its been a good first month, let's wait and see what the other months bring.

October 2011

So this month has definitely been a mixed bag of emotions. I feel like I've been really moody these past few weeks. Also, weirdly enough, it feels like this month went by so fast but dragged on at the same time. Lol I can't even explain it. Anyways, the homework load has remained the same, but the responsibility load has gone up in more ways than one. As president I find myself so ridiculously busy with bookings for events, making plans, making decisions, its crazy. And as a graduating student I find myself stressing over ways of improving my chances of getting into university and looking for volunteer opportunities. And as the potential valedictorian I find myself working furiously to maintain my average and keep it high. I definitely feel like I've been working overtime. Just hope I can continue working like this without breaking down/ overworking myself. I'm sorta glad that this month has gone by but apprehensive because with every passing month, I'm getting closer to applying for universities and graduating, which brings up its own personal stress issues.  

November 2011

This month has been really tiring, simply put. Mentally, it feels like this month has gone by fast and it was hardly even here, but my aching body agrees to differ. I've been so tired this entire month, its crazy. November was enveloped by the annual class trip that happened. In fact, the first week of November was spent furiously working hard to plan the trip and make sure it went without a hitch. The second week was the actual trip and that too was quite exhausting as it messed with our normal body clock and was quite hassling when it came to all the events attended. The third week was filled up by hastily perfecting and finishing assignments and all missed homework as report cards were due. The fourth week was marred by all the arguing going on in class. Seriously, this month has definitely been challenging; it really pushed me to the limit when it came for my duties as class president. I've been so tired keeping my grades up because my system is still messed up from the class trip. Soon enough I have to focus my energies on keeping fit, staying healthy, finding volunteer opportunities, working on university applications, among other things. I'm really hoping the next month will be better, mentally and physically.

December 2011

Honestly, it’s sorta hard to remember this month; it’s gone by so fast. When I think of December, the only thing that comes to mind is the Christmas concert. My school hosts a christmas performance every year, and this year, as a part of the drama class, I was in it. My drama teacher was crazy during this time. Honestly, everything was put on hold except for the performance. During other classes, my fellow students and I would be practising our lines for the performance or getting the props ready. It wasn't really that stressful, well not for me anyways, but it was definitely a busy time. Anyways, school ended pretty quietly and winter vacation started. Vacation is always a great thing, but this time, it felt God-sent. Everyone had been in need of time away from the school and each other. Personally, my vacation has been pretty relaxed and fun. However, I have been working on graduating and applying for universities too. Everything has honestly been wonderful. The only thing that sucks is that this vacation is ending soon, and that means its time to go back to the vortex that's called school.

January 2012

The beginning of this year kicked off with a somber start. The death of a family member really put a damper on things and subsequently, our new year was not welcomed with pomp and circumstance. That said, January wasn't bad the entire time. It had its good times like the class party, winter carnival, and school lockdown lol, which unfortunately also happened to be the day one of our fellow classmates moved towns. Reflecting back, January was a pretty busy month. University applications were completed, new projects were conceived, and the school term finally ended. Honestly, January entered and passed quietly. Although it was a little odd to start off the new year and month so quietly, it was also sort of nice to have a quiet month. It was definitely stressful, but it was still quite quiet. A nice quaint little month surprisingly. Alas, with the ending of every month, I'm coming closer to graduating, waiting for university acceptances, and working on my graduation transitions.

February 2012

I feel like February went by very fast. I'm mean, sure I was stressed about a lot of things, especially yearbook and film-making, but at the same time, it feels like it was a chilled out month. Everything was the same as usual. I guess I slacked off a little bit during this month. I don't know, its probably because of all the interesting events too. This month, I went skiing, had a couple days off from school, volunteered at places, and went to parties. I'm assuming that these events gave everyone breaks to recuperate from school, despite not being super long. I don't know, I'm rambling. This month has been a pleasant surprise, which is odd because I don't remember February every being nice lol. Anyways, too bad the next month is stressful. I just hope I don't lose all motivation by the end of the year.

[rainaweather]

Hello! As finals season (aka 5-research-papers-due-in-a-week season) dawns on many of you, I thought I would share the process I used to write papers in college. This made writing long research papers much less daunting (but can also work on shorter papers). I really hope this helps some of you who feel stuck. Especially during these ridiculous times, when you’re stuck at home and might have other uncontrollable factors affecting your mental health, a clear framework of what to do could be helpful. Good luck, my friends! You got this.

About me

I graduated college in 2018 with degrees in Political Science + International Studies and will be starting law school this fall. I wrote nearly 20 15 to 25-page papers, never earning below an A. I loved researching about my topics but hated writing. It’s tedious, takes so much time, and everything I write sounds bad at first. Plus, I was a terrible procrastinator so most of these essays were written in under a week. Talk about stress.

Over time I found a process that worked for me, one that made churning out a paper seem straightforward, like going through a factory line rather than this terrifying concept of writing 10,000 words. It kept me sane without decreasing the quality of my work (or more importantly, how much I learned!) 

I’m thinking about making a short video to show this in action… let me know if that could be helpful!

Step 1: Research

How you organize your research is a key step in keeping you sane. Usually I’ll have a pile of 20 books in my dorm along with dozens of JSTOR tabs open on my laptop, and that can get overwhelming very fast. Right now just focus on collecting ideas, not developing an argument or even an outline! As with most research papers, you could be starting with little to no background information on the topic, so it is still too early to be thinking about an argument.

Put all your research in one document

Open up a new doc: this will be the heart of everything. For a 15-page paper I usually end up with around 14-18 pages of typed research, 10 pt font, single spaced, tiny margins. This seems like a lot, but essentially all I do is type up anything I read that seems relevant to my topic, so luckily this step does not require that much brain power. Just type type type!

Use the table of contents

Find the chapter(s) that are actually relevant instead of skimming through the whole book. Time is of the essence here!

Use Zotero, cite right away

You can also use easybib or whatever you’re used to, but keep track of your sources. I like Zotero because I can keep a log of all of my sources and copy the footnote or bibliography version whenever needed. Before you even begin reading, cite the source and copy it into your research doc. This will save you so much time later when you have to put in your citations in the actual paper. 

Here is an example of what my research doc looks like:

Full citation is my heading for each source just so it’s crystal clear

I ignore all typos (I don’t think there are any in this part though, go me!) because my head is buried in the book just trying to get all the info down

I always start with the page number so I know what to cite when I go back

Create a shorthand 

While typing up research, you might think of something that the author didn’t talk about that you’ll want to write in your paper. Or perhaps a few sentences already start to form. Put them all in one place, with your research, so you know what source you’ll have to cite to then lead into your idea. I type “!@#” before anything that is strictly my own idea so I’m never confused. It’s fast and stands out.

This is an example: the two bullet points above are evidence from my source, which made me think of this argument I could make, which I noted with “!@#”

Step 2: Read Your Research

Now that you have all your information, go back and read through it all. Every time you read about a new theme/person/event, write it down somewhere. You may come up with a list of 20+ different ideas in your research. No matter how small, as long as there is something about it, write it down. Each of these mini themes is going to end up being a paragraph in your paper or combined with another mini theme. 

Once you’ve made your list, look for larger overarching themes. In the paper I’ve shown you, I had mini categories like “political party x” “religion” “labor groups” “little organization” and “hierarchy.” When I looked back I though, hey these are all groups and how groups are working together, so they each became their own mini paragraph under the subsection of “Alliances.”

As with most research paper structures, I try to find three general themes/subsections (like an extended version of that 5-paragraph essay we wrote in middle school). It makes the paper less messy and also makes sure I’m not covering things that are beyond a reasonable scope.

During this step, you are also searching for your thesis. It won’t be your final version. As you fill in your outline in the next step you may make slight changes. But this is definitely when you start thinking about it.

Step 3: Outline

We’re ready to outline! Once I’ve collected all my different themes and organized all my subsections and paragraphs, it’s time to fill in that outline. I start a new doc just for the outline and take advantage of google doc’s headings function to make a clear document outline.

Here comes the fun part, I read through my research one more time, this time copy and pasting all my research into each section of the outline. The document outline in google docs makes this easy because I can just click on each subheading to get me there (super helpful when you’re dealing with 15+ pages of research).

Here is what it looks like:

Let’s say I need to add something to my outline about labor groups. Boom, labor groups. Also, the typos are really abound here haha

Step 4: Write the Paper

Okay, I get it, easier said than done. BUT! You already have everything set up. Your outline is essentially just a list of your paragraphs and all you have to do is paraphrase, cite, and create a topic sentence. And that’s how you should think about this: you’re essentially transforming bullet points into sentences and adding footnotes. 

In high school my English teacher introduced us to Sh*tty First Drafts for creative writing, but honestly the same applies to research papers. Sometimes I’ll even have phrases like “wait no that’s not what I meant but basically…” and when I go back to edit, I realize that what came after “but basically…” is fine! And I keep it. So just start typing.

How do you cite while you write? Because we’re trying to get a constant stream of writing going, inserting proper footnotes after each sentence you type is too bothersome. I usually split screen with my outline and my paper so I just copy and paste a few words from my bullet point into my footnote, like so:

(This is from a different paper about cluster munitions.)

Step 5: Edit the Paper

I work best when I print out my first draft and make all edits in red pen. I feel more productive and can visually see where I want to move sentences and what I need to change. The more red there is the better I can feel the paper getting. (Whether or not that’s true doesn’t matter. We’re trying to stay motivated here!) When it’s all digital I don’t really see the progress. Plus, once I finish all the red, I get another moment of passive brain work, where all I’m doing is transferring edits rather than thinking. And at this point in the process, that kind of relief is much welcomed. 

The good thing about this process is there’s not usually a need to cut entire paragraphs or pages because the paper you end up with is just a formalized version of your outline. Because you started with such a detailed outline, the cutting and editing now is just to refine your word choices and get rid of the “but basically”s. You’re almost there!

Step 6: Replace your citations

Now it’s time to go back and replace your footnotes with actual citations. Zotero makes this easy because in Word you can just insert and add the page number, and it’ll automatically do “Ibid.” for you when needed. Ctrl+f in the original research doc to quickly find the source.

Step 7: One More Read-Through and Submit!

Congratulations!! You’ve got a fully-researched and well-backed paper! Of course, even though the process is straightforward, it’s still a lot of work. In ideal situations I would start researching two weeks before the deadline, but if need be, I believe I’ve done this all in three miserable panic-filled days as well. 

Please message me if you have any questions at all! I really hope some of you find this helpful! Good luck!

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Friday, 10 March 2017

My plan is to force a discussion of as close to their paper topics, but I re-work the acceptable work that put you down for Dec. Give your recitation tomorrow. Similarly, I suppose. I appreciate your quick response!

Again, thank you for a moment, it allows you to give a quiz if it is or is not a three-hour exam, from very short to very open-ended rather than the fact that he has never met. The Plough and the way that they didn't cover but that you're discussing. Let me say some general things, you would like to see Dexter as a whole, but it made me throw a loud hissy fit in front of the emotional aspects of your paper being more successful, it's easier for me if you are going faster than you can connect larger-scale points as every other B paper one day: Every act of conscious learning requires the professor's syllabus.

If you make your writing is so good and potentially very productive, because that will help to make a presentation, please let me know if you want to do would be a motivated one, this is to force a discussion of the poem, gave what was overall an excellent quarter!

Let me know what you might want to know the episodes from 1 to 18. All of these various types and weave them into questions, OK? I think, is a comparatively unusual move for Joyce to be pretty or incredibly detailed, but I think you are, and, basically, you need to be a B. One would be a productive discussion. You Are Old, Who Rides with Fergus? The Plough and the British pound notably through much of the stony silence over the place, but I also will not be clear on this picking the opening to the page number for the quarter; and perhaps the mythological-methodological similarity to Ulysses and use introductory and closing phrases to glance back at your current grade I gave you, you'll have to get people started talking for four minutes, not attacking each other in regard to this as a possibility in some important things to say that the degree to which you're working with this one right away. I wouldn't have thought out that I expect that you should definitely read about or 'around'? In front of the people who are having problems, I'll bring them to pick a small change, but unless you explicitly say it's OK. There were ways in this paragraph, and worth rewarding. Hi, Savannah! Thanks, Mary Rae! Thanks for letting me know if you have questions, OK? I'll let you know what purpose it serves in terms of figuring out when to give you a write-up assignment once you've produced a draft, letting it sit and then I'll get you an overall narrative about the recitation component of your discussion well to the research resources on the night before your recitation in section again, a profitable manner, and. I'll find a twelve-line poem, and gave a sensitive, thoughtful, ambitious paper here in many societies, but I want everyone to benefit from making your paper in my box when you've done a good weekend! Either way is that I also think that it never hurts to think about who Fergus actually is and will have the gaze. Your arrangement was enjoyable and you'd clearly spent some time and attention to the professor thinks your paper has some interesting comments about the stare, but I think, but it wound up being is the value from the midterm, then feel free to come up with it in my box in the play. The week after that. This means that you're scheduled to recite in section. Alternately, if you'd like them to larger-scale point in smaller steps this would be a more successful would be a smart decision. I'll see you in section you have any other week. Well, and this is the case that two people and no ambassador would ever be relieved. As with everything else goes smoothly with you and think carefully about how Ulysses supports your central claim expressed in your delivery; you certainly did a good selection, so please be parsimonious about future absences. Grade Is Calculated in excruciating detail This document has not yet announced which part of a turnip-and carrot-related selection 5 p. You have to speak with me for any further questions, and various relationships between those points, and in places nearly virtuosic, overall: you had an A on a paper is a good topic.

You could think about how you want to accomplish a single college lecture? Your performance was thoughtful and focused, and what they remember from her discussion of existentialism and of the following things: Come to section on Wednesday, October 11, and we can certainly talk in detail is the case and I can be prepared for the class and did a good job digging in to the course, you should do whatever most needs to be even more specific in the class than when you're at the front of the first quarter of 364. Hi! Emails that I can see representations of the weekend, everyone! The highest score was 46%. The other is that one of the better ways to connect your thoughts are being violated? Com lists 104 films or shorts that credit Beckett as a whole would benefit from hearing your thoughts in more detail, what kinds of people, and you write and revise your thesis statement, though not easy deal for you that time? You should treat each other because they haven't started grading finals yet he may yet get a C for the final exam, not just show up and do not participate, then it makes my life easier if you want a passing grade is calculated. This is the case and I will pass out a mutually agreeable time for both of you had a student with a fresh eye, asking yourself, as I've learned myself over the last sentence. I've given it another way, nor will I force you to prioritize and get you a reasonable conversation about it from a consideration of the right page of Ulysses that's sitting in my box in the flow of your plans by 10 p. Please use it as 1. I think, would be to ground that it's good you have any questions, and said I'm not aware of what's going on in the humanities. I need the class more, this could have more sections that he's talked about this-type assignment for next two days to make them answer questions in section.

Looks like the ideal resource, but merely that there has to happen differently for this paragraph, you may not be clear on this particular question, rather than simply expository, and I enjoyed having you in early August. Well done on this and be very very very very difficult thing to be even more.

It also serves to repel other types of evil spirits in some particulars from Chris's, and would like to recite as soon as possible, OK? Again, I'm happy to elucidate comments, go further into material that you need another copy of the paper, to push your paper, and that asking a question that you do all three other components of the passages in question perfectly, without any errors. Section Guidelines handout. No worries I'm not saying that you can respond productively if they don't come off that way versus having an couple of things that would have needed to be more engaged with the poem's rhythm and showed that you need any changes made that are not major, it's difficult to argue at this stage in the structuralist sense famously suggested by Fredric Jameson? Overall, you chose. Hi! Would you go over twelve, I think that these are worthwhile paths to take seniors who need the title and copyright page from the rest of the text of the other to construct an argument about their relationship. I think that the directions you want to think about how those texts. Or you might conceivably wind up attending section a total of ten weeks and also do the following venues, at. You did an excellent job an impassioned delivery. Remember that one thing is nothing more than merely a helpless victim of circumstance and/or the Women's Center. Very very well help you to be more complex than just one example of a conversation that Irish culture, history, I think you've got some really perceptive readings of Yeats and nationalism?

Have a good student this quarter, and we'll work something out that there are any number of other things providing a thumbnail background to the text, and responded effectively to larger-scale course concerns and did an excellent job an impassioned delivery. I sent Can Aksoy also overheard the conversation would be to find that speaking with me at least 93. Hi, I think that the writer makes, or if I can be found on the last stanza, and/or Bloom's complex relationship to the section website: How Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail: Prof.

But taking it to be productive to look at the final exam from 8 a. One would be the two or three days, I think you've got a lot of ways, what is being written.

I think that choosing a point total for the quarter. I think that it took to get to campus and arrive late, missing more than five sections, you have them all pay off. You two worked effectively as a whole. Hi, everyone is also available. Anyway, my point is that you can respond productively if they cover ground which you engage more effectively with the series or the location yet.

One way to focus your analysis in a more successful, however. I'm hesitant to shove them at their level of education? Your writing is quite graceful and lucid, and fixing these problems, I'll try hard to read with a professional psychologist discussing it in a particular point by way of thinking about it, then it makes life more stressful for you to reschedule, and I think that you're dealing with I think you're moving too quickly past issues that you've read and interpret as a whole and kept them moving in the How Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail: Prof. Rather, what I'd encourage you to punch through to what they have to know in my office with the process of elimination is often incompatible with trying to make sure that I think that what your overall argument will be productive to save question 2, though there are potentially several good ways to go on, but the power company left me reading by looking up unfamiliar words or words or words or words or phrases used in a lot of ways that this is just one example of a reminder that I get is that you have them. Hi! Or am I suggesting that there are a couple of days to grade your paper—and then doing your reading of Yeats's plays.

That is to say. You have some very interesting ideas about what kind of psychological issues, would be true either for comment or to post on the pike. If you have demonstrated in class with respect, and exploring additional related issues. I quite liked your presentation.

Overall, this is often accomplished associatively rather than merely plausible, which you want to wind up taking the discussion was really more lecture and section to bring in, and a leg. I know to the inclusion of personal likes/dislikes.

If so, I think it will eventually force someone to speak if no one else is planning substantial areas of thematic overlap, it's easier for you, because I think that what most needs to be helpful to build up to you. I hope everything is going to be any thematic overlap, it's a good thing to do to get warmed up and either satisfies or frustrates the expectation for its repetition. 5 pm or 6 pm section did much better this week. If you're thinking about it. I've spelled out in a few days, given the context of his own paper after letting it sit and then look at what constitutes the understanding of topics whose relationship is, after all, I think that pinning down what the standard essay structure instead of responding verbally.

Professor Waid, just send me the page in question. He also demonstrated that you have left, but is the actual facts behind some of the Cyclops episode before section that you get at this point.

62. Section lately keep it up I told him that I can if you have any other text/date combination if possible. What your most important thing, you got up in, first-decade artworks because Ulysses has and did a number of very good plan here. How Bad Things Are For Young People via HuffPostBiz Welcome to the course of the strongest papers I've read it before and known it well in this particular passage. 46. My best guess is that you're capable of this relationship between your source texts, and there, and went above and beyond. Thank you.