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teencopandthesourwolf · 12 hours
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“Please.”
Stiles stands there, chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.
Derek isn't fully clued in yet, but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.
“Please, Derek, I'm really sorry about this, but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”
Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.
Derek was still awake.
His messages had read:
> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?
And:
> ill let myself in if thats cool?
And, after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other, and before Derek had a chance to respond:
> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed
> all shall be revealed
> lol i don't know why i put that
> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok. ok?
> as if you wouldn't lol
> #sourwolf
> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me
And then, a few seconds later:
> right?
Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:
Okay, weirdo <
About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.
“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think we're good enough friends now for it not to be weird. I mean, at least I hope so. I'm just so fucking tired, man. I have got to get some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already in bed? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me. You do know you can trust me… Right, big guy?”
Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.
When the steel door slid open, Derek had smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent, mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension… and also, the strongest of them all, hope.
Let me.
Here, now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.
Let him what?
Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder, though, because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly, very slowly—as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.
Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed, fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.
He silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.
“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”
And all Derek can think is shit, he's freezing, at the same time he is going into a some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.
“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.
And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.
Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, Derek takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff, and hangs on, as firmly but gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.
“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.
Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing; something similar to relief.
Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed, and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.
The only reason he knows it isn't, is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But, uh, I don't have wolfy senses, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”
Then he promptly stops breathing.
Derek resists the desperate learnt urge to run away from this. He mentally shakes himself and figures: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe he and Stiles can fight this one together, too?
He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and, praying to nobody in particular, whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear.
Stiles shivers and breathes again, but doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to. He just needs to sleep.
As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace and, hopefully, Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and promise and contentment—and, wonderfully, of Derek, now.
Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking-the-fuck-out, because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour, worrying about everything and nothing all at once, and before he can bite into his lip to stop himself, he blurts out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”
Stiles's only sighs, then hums quietly, his breathing already evening out almost to the point of sleep.
Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's drifting off into unconsciousness.
Derek settles, then, and smiles into the nighttime, thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.
.
for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)
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ghoulishbuck · 6 months
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Things I love about writing: forcing my trauma and irrational thoughts on my characters, the fact that it’s free therapy, the fact that I can tell writers or readers that I’m playing out my story in my head and not be called lazy, the community, the idea of getting published one day.
Things I dislike about writing: writing- why doesn’t everything in my head automatically transfer over. And the process of getting traditionally published.
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madi-konrad · 2 months
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My Lesbian Fantasy Romance novel A DEMON'S NAME UPON YOUR LIPS is going on sale for Valentines Day! From Feb. 7 - 14, you can grab it for $3.85, which is precisely $2.14 off the list price!
Here are the links!!
itch.io
Kobo
Apple Books, Smashwords, others
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
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Synopsis below the cut!
Lucia is a succubus, a demon with the power to shape the emotions and passions of mortals. Summoned often into the world of Melodia, she takes pride in upholding her demonic contracts to the best of her abilities. She likes to think she does her job well … though a string of recent failures say otherwise.
Talia, the recently elevated Duke of Fallmire, summons Lucia for a simple reason: to pose as her wife and fulfill marital obligations to the satisfaction of Parliament. All to say, just a few weeks of walking around the estate and playing nice with the neighbors before a conveniently tragic death. Quick and easy.
But immediately, Lucia smells blood in the water. Behind closed doors, the Duke plots vengeance upon those who killed her father—and the demon wants in. Revenge, after all, is much more fun … and more lucrative, to boot.
But can Lucia predict how hard she’d fall for the Duke? (Not a chance). And can the Duke find it in her vengeful heart to love?
Spice Level: lightly described nudity, fade-to-black sex.
64,000 words.
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ahurumustdie · 1 year
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I love her, that girl from my childhood. She held my hand until I was ready to find myself She handed me the shovel. I grieve her sometimes, i am allowed to. It still hurts to be spoken to as if I am her. She is dead, and she is not me, but I love her for making room.  Her name is one i cradle like an injured bird Until I am ready to breathe life into it again Watch it fly away for the winter It will not fly back for the summer Instead i will give her my name, Like she gave me her bones to live in. I love her, that girl from my childhood, For walking so the boy in her shoes can run.
TRANSMASCULINE || t.a.
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“But don’t you think its a little unrealistic that so many characters in your rewrite are queer-”
BLOCKED
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makingqueerhistory · 5 months
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Body Work: The Radical Power of Personal Narrative
Melissa Febos
In this bold and exhilarating mix of memoir and master class, Melissa Febos tackles the emotional, psychological, and physical work of writing intimately while offering an utterly fresh examination of the storyteller's life and the questions which run through it. How might we go about capturing on the page the relationships that have formed us? How do we write about our bodies, their desires and traumas? What does it mean for an author's way of writing, or living, to be dismissed as "navel-gazing"--or else hailed as "so brave, so raw"? And to whom, in the end, do our most intimate stories belong? Drawing on her own path from aspiring writer to acclaimed author and writing professor--via addiction and recovery, sex work and academia--Melissa Febos has created a captivating guide to the writing life, and a brilliantly unusual exploration of subjectivity, privacy, and the power of divulgence. Candid and inspiring, Body Work will empower readers and writers alike, offering ideas--and occasional notes of caution--to anyone who has ever hoped to see themselves in a story.
(Affiliate link above)
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sugaronyourtongu3 · 5 months
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From my zine
Biggest fool of em all
Poems of grief and the passing of time
Email [email protected] to nab a mail order copy
[ support a queer punk artist pls n thank u ]
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littleacestar · 4 months
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Okay so, like, help. I am a writer and i love making my characters queer as fuck but ive never written a genderfluid character before. Basically im wondering how i would refer to he/she/them when theyre not in the room/scene since i wouldnt really know her/his/their current gender (well since im the author i could just decide but i wanna do it properly). This is also just a general question because i dont know any genderfluid person so never really done this before
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llyfrenfys · 9 months
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Followers- Dw i angen eich help / I need your help
This is a post I've been sitting on for a while and it's time I finally write it to let you all know how I am, where I'm at and the progress of Prosiect Llyfr Enfys.
So, as I alluded to in previous posts, I had a health scare at the end of May which landed me in the hospital. I've spent June recovering from that and dealing with a few life changes as well (which I will talk about later).
Unfortunately, me and my partner had to deal with an unexpected bill of £200 this month which had to come directly out of my savings and is a huge chunk of it.
I've been doing research in preparation for hopefully doing a Masters at Aberystwyth in September on the topic of LGBTQ+ Welsh terminology before the 20th Century. My undergraduate dissertation was on the topic of 20th-21st Century LGBTQ+ Welsh terminology (which is currently unmarked due to the marking boycott). Hopefully after graduation I can share it with you. But my research into older terminology means needing to travel to different archives and libraries in Wales, which at the minute, I just can't afford. The closest place would be Bangor, but I have no money to spare at the minute and Prosiect Llyfr Enfys is not funded by any scheme or grant- it's currently all funded by myself.
For the first time in my life, I've been considering using a food bank. We're not quite at that stage yet, but it's precarious. It's another unexpected bill away from a critical situation.
Currently, my monthly expenses for anything related to the dictionary totals around £40 (subscriptions to archives, libraries, genealogy research tools) which have been instrumental in my work. For example, I couldn't have written my articles for Hanes LHDT+ Cymru without access to ancestry sites or online newspaper archives. This does not include other expenses such as bus tickets to get to the National Library of Wales when I need to, or costs of purchasing dictionaries in order to source them in my work.
All of this is to say that i need your help:
I have a patreon which I will be posting in next in July- if you enjoy Prosiect Llyfr Enfys and want to help keep it going, please consider subscribing today by clicking the link above or in my bio. The lowest tier is affordable and if you have the cash to spare, will enable me to keep on working on the project. If you want to make a one-time donation, I'm considering enabling tips on tumblr for those who would prefer that.
If enough people are able to subscribe to keep the project going, I can start to make some concrete plans for a trip to Bangor and share my journey with you all and involve you in the trip. If I'm unable to raise enough funds, I will have to make the decision to pause the project until after my Master's. I do not currently have a publisher, which is also a big factor in that decision, if I need to make it.
All your support is greatly appreciated- if you cannot donate, please share this post.
As ever, huge huge diolch yn fawr to everyone who has supported the project so far- with your help, we can get this dictionary published to help benefit the whole Welsh LGBTQ+ community and beyond.
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writingbycatsgrave · 6 months
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CALLING ALL WRITERS!
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"I'll text Stiles," Scott says, grabbing his backpack. "Then I'm gonna go see Allison.”
When Scott turns back around, Derek's lips are a thin line and they are the only part of him that moves when he asks, through his teeth, "Are you going to talk to her, too?”
Scott just squints. Because—huh? 
"Derek, what do you mean, am I going to talk to her, too?” He narrows his eyes even more, suspicious. “Why else would I be going to see Allison, if not to talk to her? I don't just, like, watch her from afar like some creeper, you know." 
Scott isn't about to admit that he has, embarrassingly, done just that on occasion. Alright, occasions, plural—but only once or twice! Five or six times, tops. And only ever when he thought Allison was, or could possibly be, in danger. It's not weird, though. It's not! It's noble, okay? It just sounds weird when you say it out loud. Even if he hasn't actually said it out loud. Well, at least not just now anyways; he's said it in front of the mirror a couple times and it turns out your reflection can be pretty hurtful and judgemental which, honestly, is a little upsetting.  
Just as Scott realises that Derek must know he just told a lie—half-lie!—the Alpha's face does a thing that Scott has never seen it do before. Ever. The dude looks almost… Human. 
And, what the hell? 
Derek clears his throat and shifts his weight from one foot to the other and worries at his bottom lip a bit and now Scott is feeling anxious because who is this guy? And what has he done with Derek ‘I Will Never Give A Single Thing Away About Myself Ever Other Than The Fact I Am Eternally Pissed’ Hale? (that's one of Stiles's). 
Just the possibility of Derek ‘Emotionally Open and Vulnerable’ Hale is, like—it's just way too much for Scott to handle on a Sunday morning when he's supposed to be at the veterinary surgery in less than fourteen minute's time and has to somehow manage fitting in seeing Allison on the way.
But it seems Scott is also too nosy to just move on from this and let sleeping dogs lie. And both of those things are really annoying because strange old phrases and being overly curious is usually a Stiles thing, not a Scott thing, so Scott really doesn't know what he's supposed to do! 
W.W.S.D. 
What Would Stiles Do?
"Um, Derek, have you been—"
"Firstly, McCall, following somebody around and watching them from a distance is not creepy if you think that they need to be tailed for their own safety, alright?" Derek starts and—well.
Exactly!
Scott actually genuinely likes Derek, for just a moment, because he knew he'd been right about that! He gives himself an internal high-five and an imaginary congratulatory pat on the back because being kind to yourself is never a bad option. Unfortunately, Scott now also has to admit to himself that it does, in fact, sound weird when you say it out loud. Or, well, think it out loud. Whatever, he knows what he means.
He realises that Derek is still speaking.
"...because Stiles is human and also the biggest danger-magnet in the pack, so it makes sense that one of us should be keeping tabs on him. Thirdly, I—“ 
“Someone, Derek!” Scott blurts, “I was going to ask if you've been creeping on someone!" he interrupts because—honestly, in the most way possible—what?! The hell?!
Scott is both stunned and annoyed at hearing that Derek has been following Stiles (hiding around dark corners and slinking about the place like a wolf ninja. Scott should know. Shut up.) 
Because Stiles! Is Scott's best friend! 
And, like, how long has he been doing this? And for what purpose, really? Because Derek's heart just skipped about twelve beats, never mind one, so reason number two was obviously at least a half-lie of his own. 
That's when Derek's mouth clacks audibly shut. 
Scott just stares. And he knows; there is more going on here than meets the eye.
Then it's obvious that Derek knows that Scott knows and then everybody is knowing and looking and looking and knowing and Scott just—he can't stand it, okay? He needs confirmation. He doesn't necessarily want it, but it's like his mom always says: Life's tough sometimes. 
Eventually, he manages to say, "Are you stalking Stiles, Derek?" and hopes to hell he's wrong because he now feels somewhere in between being affronted on his best friend's behalf, totally grossed-out because it's Derek, ugh, and maybe just a little bit amused. Or is it bemused? Possibly confused. Scott is definitely some of those words. 
And again, seriously, what the hell?  
Has Derek honestly been creeping on Stiles because he's concerned for Stiles's safety? And, if so, why? Like, does Derek even get concerned for humans? Or other wolves for that matter (apart from maybe his own betas which is probably only a biological thing anyway, Scott reckons). Does Derek care about anybody? At all? Dude doesn't even care about himself, Scott doesn't think.
Scott now tries his best to come up with another reason, any other possible reason, that someone might have to follow a person around, but he can't seem to land on—OH, GOD! DOES DEREK HAVE A CRUSH ON STILES? Oh, shit! Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! He can't. But he—nope. No! Because what. The actual. Hell! He just—no. No, no, no. He can't! Can he? Oh, my God, what if he does?! And if it is true... ew! Derek Hale crushing is just gross! And on Stiles?! Just, no. But also, why? And also-also, how the hell did Scott not notice something sooner?! 
And another thing: Did Scott somehow wake up this morning having somehow travelled in his sleep to one of those Affirmative Universe places that Stiles is always banging on about?
Man, Scott has, like, so many questions. 
Derek still hasn't said anything and is just standing opposite Scott with his stupid arms folded across his stupid chest with his stupid beard in his stupid loft looking really, really stupidly sheepish, and Scott thinks, yep.
Affirmative Universe. 
He doesn't know what to do and Stiles isn't here to ask, so he waves a confused (and maybe amused and bemused) arm in the air and says, “Derek, what the hell is going on? Have we travelled to an Affirmative Universe or something, because—”  
“Don't you mean Alternative Universe?”  
“—you never just, I don't know, don't throw something offensive or at least defensive back at me when I'm talking to you about Stiles. Or, you know, anybody else. Or anything else, come to think of it!”   
Derek now looks, for real, actually scared.
And Scott? Well, Scott is now officially terrified.  
His phone starts ringing and, as it's already in his hand, he just answers it without looking, eyes still fixed on Derek The Imposter. 
“Yooooo, amigo, what's the plan?” 
It's Stiles. Of course it's Stiles. 
Stiles is on the phone and Derek Hale might-probably-definitely have a crush on him, and Scott may or may not be in an Affirmative Universe but can't know for sure and can no longer speak or think or breathe.
“Uh, Scottie? Scottland? Sir Scott-A-Lot? You there, ol’buddy, ol’pal?” 
Derek can obviously hear who is on the other end of the phone. He looks positively constipated, his brows knitting together even tighter than before, tighter than ever before, and his lethal jaw is ticking away like it's being controlled by the World Clock in Berlin that Scott learned about in middle school.
Scott sighs, heavy, like he's seventy years old instead of seventeen.
Derek is now giving his best version of Scott's own speciality Puppy Dog Eyes (something Stiles and Allison alway tell him), with a definite flavour of please, don't tell…
And Scott wants to cry. Like a baby. Like, throw himself onto the floor and scream and shout and kick his feet in the air. 
Instead, he grits his teeth together like the mature person he is, feeling very firmly smooshed between a best friend-shaped rock and a werewolf-scented hard place. 
Ugh, his life is just so unfair!
He mouths YOU OWE ME to Derek, and Derek's whole body visibly sags with relief. 
Then he takes a deep breath and answers Stiles—who is now chanting ScottieScottieScottieScottieScottieScottieScottie down the phone—with, “Dude, shut up and listen, will you! I think we might have a very real problem with Affirmative Universes!”
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anyawildt · 9 months
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Me reminding myself that I wrote and published a whole ass book :')
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ghoulishbuck · 5 months
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Writer: hyper focuses on a mural that will only be mentioned once or twice and goes into great detail about said mural.
Also, writer: Can’t describe any part of the house beyond the small section the mural is located in.
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the-liminal-place · 2 months
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songoftrillium · 3 months
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I Am Mundus Artis (it/she)
The term is roughly translated to 'Art of the World'. I am a mixed media artist based out of the Pacific Northwest. I write World of Darkness stuff on Storytellers Vault, and occasionally publish short form science fiction on Medium. I paint with watercolors and make many of my own paints using found objects. I also engage in film photography and heavily favor urbex and Chiaroscuro portraiture. I enjoy taking the core elements of a subject and reorganizing them into representational surrealism, also known as biomorphism.
I am an unapologetic lover of nature and especially mushrooms, moss, and especially wolves.
I block most AI image creators and apologists on sight. If I accidentally reblog AI-generated content, please let me know.
I am a disabled, demisexual, transgender butch lesbian elder, and I have opinions. I generally don't consider this blog friendly to minors, and I tend to block on sight, though I mostly keep my lesbian shitposting here (NSFW). I stand with Palestine, but also do not condone antisemitism in any form. I believe Black Lives Matter, and support Landback efforts, along with the ideals of decolonization. Sex Work is Work. This blog holds space for marginalized voices from all walks.
In addition, I am a part of numerous fandoms, and you can expect to see liberal reblogs of Dark Crystal, Good Omens and Our Flag Means Death content.
I am an avid fan of the World of Darkness, especially Werewolf: the Apocalypse and am a Storyteller of over 25 years experience. You'll see frequent posting covering the topic of Werewolves in general on this blog. I'm an aggregator of Useful Shit for Storytellers and My Ask Box Is Open for those seeking world-building advice or ST tips.
In fact:
I believe Werewolf is an Inherently Queer Medium
I am also trying to hold the World of Darkness to higher standards of inclusivity
I'm the project director behind Werewolf: the Essentials, which aims to bring queer inclusivity to the horror tabletop. Book 1: Cliath comes out next Halloween, and you can follow the Official Blog here.
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