#`` I personally prefer the beta editor

[ulfhrafnx]

since this seems to be a recurring issue ( and honestly the reason why i had to switch over to the beta editor for good ) it’s worth mentioning again that there’s no cross compatibly between the legacy editor and the beta editor. meaning if you’re writing with someone whose using legacy and you’re using beta you’re going to eventually encounter problems , the main one being not being able to trim posts. the only way to fix it is to use the beta editor and to also make sure you have xkit rewritten installed. it’s a browser extension. better resources found here , here and here.

[daisywords]

I personally know there are multiple types of editing but I've never seen anyone explain it in a way that actually made me understand what the types of editing actually were (yeah cool that you say {}editing is different from []editing but *how*). So if you wanna explain, feel free to.

Your handy-dandy guide to different types of editing

disclaimer: writers, you can literally edit however works for you. these distinction can be useful to your process, or just if you're looking to hire an editor. Not all editors make distinctions in this way; there are various ways of dividing. But no matter what vocabulary you use, it's best practice to start with broad, big-picture stuff and move towards narrower issues. Some editors do all levels of editing, while some specialize.

Developmental Editing (Is it a good story?)

Developmental editing has to do with the content. For a novel, that means working on the bones of the story. The plot. The pacing. The characters. Do their motivations make sense? Can the reader understand why things are happening? Does the story drag in places, or seem to brush past important elements? Do all of the subplots get resolved? etc. etc. (At this stage an editor is mostly going to be offering suggestions, pointing out issues, and throwing out potential solutions. Beta readers can also be very helpful at this stage to get a reader's perspective on the story beats and characters.)

Line Editing (is it well written?)

Sometimes called substantive editing, line editing is zooming in a little bit more to focus on scenes, paragraphs and sentences. Once we've decided that a scene is going to stay, lets look at the mechanics of how it plays out. Does the scene start to early or too late? Does the writing style communicate the emotions we want the reader to feel? Does the dialogue match the characters' voices? do any of the sentences sound awkward or ugly? Is the movement being bogged down by too much purple prose anywhere, or is there not enough detail? (This can get pretty subjective, so it's important that the writer and the editor are on the same page with taste, style goals, etc.)

Copy Editing (is is correct?)

Copy editing is all about the details. Think grammar and punctuation. Do the sentences make sense? are they grammatically correct? Is the dialogue punctuated correctly? Any misspellings? Should this be hyphenated? Should this be capitalized? Should we use a numeral, or write out the number? etc etc. A significant part of copy editing is matching everything to a style manual (like Chicago or AP) a house style guide (individualized preferences from a publisher, for example), and a project's own internal style sheet (are the character's names spelled the same every time? if we used "leaped" in chapter 4, we shouldn't use "leapt" in chapter 7) Copy editing is still subjective, but less so than the earlier levels, so a copyeditor will be more likely to just go in and make a bunch of (tracked!) changes without consulting the author for everything.

Bonus: Proofreading (did the copyeditor catch everything? are there typos? formatting issues? have any errors been introduced?)

Lots of people say editing when they really mean proofreading. Proofreading is the absolute last thing to get done. It's the one last pass just before something is published. It's important, but as you can see, there's a whole lot more to editing than just checking for typos.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

This is related to another reminder: fanfic writing is not a competition, and it’s not a job post. I have been experimenting with using ChatGPT to write stories with a provided idea prompt from my imagination. I edit and read to make sure the generated story is in line with the general idea of the characters. Between work, life, building a business, and the 1000 different story ideas in my head, I don't have as much time and bandwidth as I used to actually write from start to finish. 2 of the 3 fandoms I write for have pretty much declined and the other is still there. My question to you is what are your thoughts on using AI to write fanfics?

disclaimer: this is just my personal opinion and preference as someone who also writes fanfics and has been writing for 8 years (I have never used AI to write, and have no intention to). my words are not laws, and this is by no means to shame or attack anybody.

I personally believe the fun of writing a fic is gone when you use AI to write a fic. I love writing because I love the act of writing, of thinking about what my blorbo would say and what they would do in this situation I put them in. not the act of telling Al to write something for me, if that makes sense. (sure, I may have joked about wanting a fic to 'write itself' sometimes, but when I made that joke, it was just a joke, and it was never about AI).

there's a huge difference between using a prompt generator website to get motivations and ideas in regards of what to write, and using AI to write the fic.

even if you edit and read everything to make sure it's 'in character' after you use AI, you're still not the 'author' of the story, but rather a beta and an editor.

we all have lives outside of writing fanfics, yes, I know because I've been busy with life outside of AO3 lately and have been finding it hard to find an opportunity where I could sit down and write without exhaustion or job-related stuff pulling me away from my fics, but I'd prefer to only write when I can — when I have the time and energy — to AI any day, even if that meant it took me longer to get a chapter done.

and if I could, I'd avoid reading AI-generated fics just because I'd also prefer to read fanfics that were written with passion and the love the authors have for my favorite characters, and only humans can do that. AI fics just lack a soul in my opinion.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Gentle on my Mind - Chapter 6

Initially set in 1967 when Elvis is filming Clambake. Feeling miserable and trapped after the Colonel banishes Larry and the spiritual texts, Elvis invites Gloria to keep him company through the last five days of filming. Gloria is an aspiring movie editor and more importantly she's a lot of fun. Will she be what Elvis needs to get him out of the depressive funk he's in?

Catch up with the other parts here.

Many thanks to @sissylittlefeather being my beta reader on this one.

Pairing: Elvis x OC - Gloria, a budding film editor.

Word count: 2.1k ish

TWs: Angst, crying, infidelity, p in v sex, size kink.

A/N: There's a lot of angst in this part. Hopefully I'll cheer you all up with a whole month of kink starting tomorrow...

Elvis wakes up and rolls over to find Gloria still in the bed with him. He remembers asking her to stay last night and he’s not sure whether he meant for another day or forever. A big part of him just wants to wake her, tell her to pack her stuff and run away with her somewhere. Preferably Hawaii. The other part, quieter, more practical, knows he has to just go back to the house he shares with Cilla and prepare to get married. But even the quiet part thinks he has time to have a little more fun. At least one more day without responsibilities. He curls his body around Gloria’s, his hand on her belly, feeling her stir from sleep at his touch. 

She grumbles a little, just barely opening her eyes. Putting one hand behind her head to tangle in his hair as he starts to kiss just behind her ear. 

“Mmm. Hi.”

“Morning.”

“You sleep ok?” Her voice is still drowsy with sleep.

“Really good. You?” He realises as he says it that despite staying up all hours, he’s always slept peacefully next to her. 

“Mmmm. Yeah. Still kinda asleep now it feels like. What’re we gonna do today?”

Elvis hums against her skin. “How about we play hooky? Run away to the beach again?”

“Sounds good.” She agrees, then groans. “I need a shower to wake up.”

***

They sneak out of the trailer and off the film set again, the same way as yesterday, driving in Gloria’s car. Elvis is grateful that none of the guys are up yet, but he’s not that surprised, it was a late one last night. And they weren’t really a group to take things easy, especially not with everything that had gone on in the run up to this movie. He’d definitely seen some of them blowing off some steam. Usually he’d still be asleep at this time too, but he doesn’t want to waste any precious time with Gloria. 

“I know somewhere we can go,” she tells him as they drive. “There’s this beach that’s really out of the way, hardly anyone seems to know about it. One of the movie guys I was talking to last night told me. It’s about a half hour away.”

They stop at a convenience store on the way and Gloria goes in to pick up some supplies, even managing to find a couple of beach towels. Elvis spends a lot of the journey watching her, drinking her in, committing her to memory. She notices his gaze on her but shrugs it off, concentrating on the road. It’s a nice drive, and the weather is great. There’s actually a little breeze. Her mind wanders back to Elvis’ comments when she was still half-asleep, in bed that morning, wondering what they are playing hooky from, since the movie is finished. Could someone really need to run away from their own employees?

***

They pull up to a mostly empty parking lot, and then walk over to the beach. The guy Gloria had spoken to last night was right, it’s almost entirely deserted. And it’s beautiful. She thinks that he’d probably started telling her about it in the hopes that she’d suggest going together, but she just nodded enthusiastically, thanked him and moved on to the next person. 

“What did you get?” Elvis asks, nodding at the bag in Gloria’s hand as they sit down on one of the beach towels. 

She opens the bag for him to see. He’s most interested in the twinkies, but she tells him he can’t eat dessert first. “And anyway, I wanna go for a swim.”

Elvis isn’t sure he wants to go for a swim, but immediately changes his mind as soon as he sees Gloria in her swimsuit. He’d been expecting a one-piece, but she takes her long dress off to reveal a hot pink bikini. He can’t help staring at her as she folds her dress and sets it down with her bag and the food. It fits her perfectly. Elvis isn’t sure he’s ever really got his head around the way women’s fashion has changed over the past ten years. Skirts are considerably shorter and swimsuits are considerably smaller. Obviously he likes it, but at the same time… She smiles, noticing him looking at her again. 

“You like it?” Standing with her hands on her hips, pushing her chest out. 

His eyes are immediately drawn to her breasts, just as she hoped. “I love it.”

“Good. C’mon, hurry up and get ready. I wanna go in.”

They walk hand in hand towards the sea, Elvis walking in slowly and Gloria trying to pull him faster. Eventually she gets impatient and lets go of his hand, diving in and swimming off. He carries on getting in gradually, until he can’t walk anymore so he floats. He doesn’t mind swimming nowadays but he still doesn’t love it. Gloria, on the other hand, seems to be part-mermaid. Swimming in circles around him, then setting off for the horizon as fast as she can, calling for him to chase her. He laughs and tries for a while, half-heartedly, before throwing up his arms and telling her that she wins. The game goes on for a while, until he grabs hold of her on one of her circles around him and tells her he’s tired. She kisses the end of his nose and agrees that they can go back to shore. She wonders at someone talking about Hawaii so much and not liking to swim, but she doesn’t think about it too much. Maybe he just wants to lounge about in the sun. Nothing wrong with that.

***

Joe bangs on the door of Elvis’ trailer for the third time, and for the third time there is no response. He tries the handle and finds it open. Not wanting a repeat of the incident with Charlie, he hollers Elvis’ name a few times. Nothing. Walking around the place and finding nothing much missing, apart from the man himself. He frowns, then places a phone call to Palm Springs, where he catches the Colonel at his vacation home. There’s no question about it, they have to find Elvis. Parker isn’t impressed that this is the first time he’s learning about this girl, Gloria, and how much of a bad influence she seems to be. As far as he’s concerned, almost any influence is a bad influence. But this girl seems actively problematic. He tells Joe to leave no stone unturned in his search, and then to drive Elvis back to the Perugia Way house himself. Afterall, he has a wedding to prepare for. 

***

After lunch, Elvis and Gloria lie side by side on the beach towel, looking up at the fluffy clouds that slowly move through the sky. He rolls onto his side and lays his hand on her belly, propping himself up on his other elbow. 

“You look so good in this,” he tells her, his fingers lightly caressing first the top and then the bottoms. 

She looks over at him with a soft smile. “Thanks. Maybe I’d wear it to Hawaii, if we went there.” She doesn’t know why she just said that. 

“If you wore this I’d be the envy of every guy on the island.”

She grins. “You think you’d cook for me, on the beach? Or do you need your bitches for that kind of thing?”

He laughs. “I could cook. I’d learn. You just might have to eat one or two burnt things first, while I practise.”

She reaches up to put her hand on the back of his neck. “Oh that’s okay. So long as there was enough punch or whatever they drink over there. If we were drunk enough we wouldn’t notice the taste.”

They both giggle a little and he moves to kiss her. When it starts to get passionate he stops, searching around for the other towel and then pulling it over him, lying on top of her, his hips rolling against her as they go back to kissing again. 

He only stops when he hears the sound of someone clearing their throat. Looking up to see Joe standing there. 

“Elvis,” Joe says, awkwardly. 

“Joe,” comes the cold response. 

“You need to come back,” Joe tells him. No point in beating about the bush. “We need to get your things and then I have to drive you home.”

Elvis stares up at him, incredulously. He knows who must have sent him, and he knows there’s no way of getting out of the situation he’s in, but he still can’t quite believe this is happening. How could Joe have even found him?

“Give me half an hour,” he replies, coldly. 

Joe nods. “The car’s just over there. I’ll see you.”

When Elvis looks back down at Gloria she knows there’s no point in asking. He’s being sent for, and he’s going. That’s all there is to it. But they have half an hour. 

He’s expecting her to speak, to ask, to demand, and when she doesn’t he mistakes it for lack of caring. She really was only interested in fucking. Well, there was still an opportunity for that. Without saying anything, he starts kissing her again, feeling her eager response. Their bodies roll together, both feeling the rush of endorphins as he gets hard and she gets wet. After a while Elvis moves so he can take off his swim shorts, and removes her bikini bottoms at the same time. They don’t speak, just move together, him lining himself up at her entrance and slowly pushing inside, taking his time, watching her for cues. She grips his shoulder tightly at the intrusion, briefly wondering if she’ll ever get used to his size and then remembering she doesn’t have to. This is the last time. 

They pant and moan and sigh, and once Elvis has a gentle rhythm going they kiss too. Her legs wrapped around his waist, Gloria feels him deep inside her, rubbing that place that’s guaranteed to make her come, driving her crazy again. But in a different way to last night, with the joking and teasing and dominance. He’s driving her crazy because it feels so good she never wants it to end. And because she knows when it does end he’ll kiss her goodbye and that’ll be it. The intensity of the feeling of their connection, the pleasure building inside her, it all makes her feel like she’s going to cry. 

Elvis is trying to keep fucking her slowly, knowing as soon as he speeds up it’ll be a squeeze and a few thrusts and then this will be over. But his body is rebelling against him, wanting its release, thrusting faster now, his head buried in her neck, breathing in the smell of her. 

She feels the coil in her belly stretch and then suddenly snap, and for the first time in her life, with the burst of wonderful pleasure comes something else. Something that makes tears streak down her cheeks, a fantastic, terrible feeling. She feels him thrust into her a few more times and then hears his gentle moan, still muffled by her skin as his head hasn’t moved. She quickly wipes the tears from her face, then strokes his hair as he lies there. 

They lie in silence for a while, their heavy breaths and the crashing of the waves the only sounds. She runs her hand down his back, thinking this is the last chance she’ll have to touch his skin like this. 

“I meant it, you know,” she finds herself saying, barely above a whisper. “I give a shit about you. I care about what happens to you.”

Elvis looks up for the first time since he’d buried his head in the crook of her neck. He’d brushed away his own tears a minute or so earlier. 

“I’m so grateful. I can’t tell you how much. I just… you’re what I needed. Thank you.”

She pulls his face up to hers and they kiss again. He sighs against her lips. 

“I have to go. I um… I care about you too. I should’ve told you that before.”

She nods. “It’s okay.”

They get dressed and she walks him to Joe’s car. The kiss goodbye is a chaste peck on the lips, and Gloria wonders if that’s why, when she gets into her own car with the intention of driving back to set and picking up her stuff, she suddenly starts crying again and this time finds she can’t stop. 

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee

[writingquestionsanswered]

How do you stop being insecure about writing and how do you become less sensitive to criticism?

Confidence in Writing, Less Sensitivity to Criticism

While few writers are ever completely secure in their writing ability (confidence can increase or decrease with mood, project difficulty, and other factors), your confidence in your writing will grow naturally as you write more and more. In other words, it's not something that just happens. You have to spend a lot of time writing a lot of things, and your confidence will build as you go.

You can help the process along by:

-- reading a lot -- writing a lot -- honing your craft via learning about writing -- seeking feedback from writing partners/beta readers/editors, etc. -- learning your weaknesses and improving them -- learning your strengths and embracing them

Becoming less sensitive to criticism is a little bit trickier, especially because there can be complicated things that play into it, like past experiences, present mood and mindset, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, etc.

However, if you're someone who is sensitive to criticism, I cannot stress enough how important it is to simply avoid reading reviews and comments left by readers. If you want feedback you can learn from, seek that out through a qualified writing friend, critique partner, beta reader, editor, etc. and let them know in advance that you're sensitive to criticism so they work with you to give you the feedback you need in the least upsetting way possible. And even with feedback from a qualified person, remember that writing feedback is rarely truly objective. People always bring their personal preferences and own ideas into the feedback they give, so just because a qualified person criticizes something you wrote doesn't mean they're absolutely right or that you're a bad writer. Feedback is there for you to weigh and use only if you agree it will benefit your story.

Something else that helps to remember is that even the best, most critically acclaimed writers in the world have people who hate their writing. Tolstoy, Dickens, Poe, Hemingway, Steinbeck, Austen, Woolf, Christie, Angelou, Atwood, Gaimen, King, Morrison, Allende... every single one of them has thousands of 1-star reviews, critical reviews, and people who just can't stand their writing. Yet, they're all popular writers known the world over, with millions of books sold, and universally loved. All of these names appear on lists of the greatest writers of all time.

And, something else... the degree to which criticism bothers you will decrease as your confidence increases. Not just because confidence naturally thickens your skin, but also because you learn to tell the difference between haters and people with genuinely good points.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

COFFEE & COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa

[afozine]

AFO ZINE INTEREST CHECK RESPONSES

Thank you to everyone who responded! We appreciate the feedback and are currently planning how to organize the zine based on the answers we received. Now lets look at the results from the survey.

A total of 47 people responded to the survey as a whole

Our first question was: Are you interested in an AFO zine?

33 of you said you wanted to participate as a contributor. While approximately 13 of you said you would be interested in this seeing this zine be made, but you would not want to participate as a contributor. Meanwhile one person said they want to participate, but aren't sure if they have enough time.

Which we do understand if you're unsure if you'll be able to participate due to time constraints. We're not going to be super strict on the schedule and we'll be willing to work with you if you need extensions. We want to give as many of you as possible the chance to participate. So keep that in mind if you're still on the fence about this.

-

Our second question was: If you are interested in participating, what would you like to participate as?

17 of you said you would like to be artists

21 of said you would like to be a writer

4 of you said you would like to be a mod

12 of you said you would like to be a Beta reader

4 of you said you would like to be a Text Editor

1 of you said you would like anything that would make you useful

We are happy with these results as with this amount of artists and writers we will be able to make a decent sized zine. So once again thank you all for your eagerness to participate. Mod applications will be going up very soon so those who are interested in being a mod please keep an eye out for that.

-

Our third question was: What would you like to see from this zine?

Many different responses for this question. Some of you didn't care as long as it had as much of AFO in it as possible, but others were more specific in what they wanted to see. So I will sum up the most common responses here.

Meta essays

Art, Fics and Comics

Dark/Horror theme

Angst and fluff content

Headcanon section

Manga shots

Theories

Dad for One

Shipping content

Before canon content

Merch

A broad picture of his life (childhood to potato years)

Relationship with Yoichi

As you can see there is a wide range of answers. Now to address some of these.

Meta Essays: We would be interested in having some meta essays to be in the zine. We want this to be a celebration of AFO's character as a whole so it would be nice to see some of you include your own analysis on him in the zine. It also gives a wider arrangement of content so that's also a bonus.

Dark/Horror theme: We've been thinking about going with this type of theme before we even posted the interested check so we're happy to see some of you like that idea. It would fit him well and would be fun to base the zine on. We'll release more info about this soon.

Angst/Fluff: We will welcome both of these things in the zine. We don't want it to be solely angst or fluff. A good mixture of both is our goal.

Headcanons: We will have a section where people can include their own headcanons about AFO.

Theories: Theories will be allowed in the meta section, so if you want to write about a theory you have about AFO then you can select the meta section when completing the contributor application form.

Manga Shots: Unfortunately we have decided not to include this. With the amount of potential contributors we have we do not feel it is necessary to include this though it isn't a bad idea. Thank you for the suggestion!

Arrangement of Zine: What we would like most in this zine is for there to be a wide coverage of AFO's life. From his childhood to his reign of terror to potato years etc. So there will be different sections for each which you can sign up for. We will have a list available of all the important events that happened to AFO that you can refer to if you're struggling to come up with an idea of what to do.

Dad for One: Preferably we will want as little DFO as possible, after all there was a zine already created dedicated to DFO. However, considering how big of an impact DFO has had on a lot of AFO fans we will allow some to discuss it in the headcanon section and only allow 1-2 pieces about it in the AU section. Keeping in mind that we do not want either of those sections to only be about DFO and want a variety of content there.

Merch: We are thinking about doing only digital merch. For example, sticker sheets and posters that you can print out if you want. We'll include a section where artists can sign up to create some if they want.

Ships: We have decided to keep our stance on not allowing ships to be included. Sorry to anyone this may disappoint!

-

Our fourth question was: Which would you be most interested in seeing in this zine?

15 of you said art

13 of you said fics

6 of you said comics

1 person said fics and comics

11 of you said all of the above

We will strive to have a good mix of all three! We had a pretty decent response to the interest check survey so we should have enough of each to make everyone happy.

-

About the suggestion box...

Thank you to those who left something in the suggestion box! We will take into account everything that was put in there. Some of your suggestions were addressed in the previous section above so we hope that satisfies some of your concerns Other things that were put in there we are still discussing among ourselves for now.

-

More info is to be released soon. We will be posting our mod applications very soon so keep an eye out for that if that is something you are interested in. We are really excited to make this happen for you all and hope you will remain patient as we sort things out.

We would like to mention we now have a X/twitter page running: @/theafozine. So if you have an account there feel free to follow us.

As always if you have any questions or concerns please leave a ask in our ask box or dm us directly if you want. Have a lovely day!

[scriptstructure]

About & Guidelines

About the Blog:

In the fashion of ScriptMedic and cohort, this blog is here to answer questions about how to structure your story, and develop your narrative, and themes. If you’ve got your research, and you’ve got your plot, and then you’re stuck on how to make it fit together, or how to use your awesome research, then this is the blog for you!

This blog can provide assistance from simple tips regarding writing itself, through to recommendations for further reading and research. If I’m able I will provide links to relevant texts, or at least attempt to provide ways to find them.

Guidelines for Asking:

FIRST! An important note: I will not read your manuscript!

MS reading is time-intensive and is the sort of thing better left to dedicated beta readers or paid editors, please do not submit part/ all of your MS, and ask me to ‘tell you what’s wrong with it’ or ‘help fix it’.

Sending your ask:

ask box is preferred! Submit box is available if you absolutely can’t fit your question into the ask

I’ll be keeping messenger open in case I need to ask clarifying questions, but I would prefer that initial questions NOT be sent via messenger.

You’ll probably need to put 1-2 sentences of context about your story, and ask about the specific issue you’re having difficulty with

Generally speaking, the more specific your question is the better I will be able to help you – figure out the area that you’re having difficulty with and ask about that in particular. Sending a long rehash of your MS and then simply asking how to make it work is impossible to answer. Tell me what You think the problem you’re having is, and we can work from there.

As this blog grows, there will no doubt be posts related to troubles you’re having, I’ll be making sure to keep up a consistent tagging system so that all previous posts should be simple to find, simply head to the navigation page and look to see if your question has already been answered. If it hasn’t? Then ask away! If I’ve answered something similar to the question you have but haven’t quite hit the nail on the head? Ask away!

Also, you might notice that I’ll often advise people to read certain texts, or recommend stories, shows, films, novels, etc that are similar to what they’re working on. Reading is the best practice for writing, you’ll learn a lot about writing by reading attentively, and it is a process – all writing is a process! There’s no quick fix or cheat sheet that will work for everyone.

If you must send a question longer than the ask box allows, use a browser to access:

www.scriptstructure.tumblr/submit

About the Blogger:

My name is Mason and I’m all about character and narrative development, I’ll be doing my best to try and work through the thorny problems that come with the writing part of writing!

I have a degree in Creative Writing, a minor in English Literature, and an honours degree in Creative Writing (thesis focused on character structure and narrative). I’ve lectured on Character development in adaptation, and I’ve taught general creative writing, as well as writing for the stage.

I have several short stories published, as well as a self published novella, you can find my personal/ author blog [HERE]

[goodboylupin]

Better late than never! Welcome, one and all, to

The 4th Candy Hearts Challenge

A fun, stress-free Wolfstar mini-fest!

(If you remember how this goes , feel free to skip my introductory spiel and check for new rules!)

They’re sold by many companies and known by many names: Candy Hearts, Conversation Hearts, Sweethearts, and Love Hearts. Whatever the brand and whatever you call them, they’re the signature sweet of the season. Sure, you could buy your beloved a box of chocolates, but that’s an option any time of year! Good luck finding these bad boys in November!

Not that candy hearts are bad! Sure, they’re kinda chalky… and they taste stale no matter how fresh you bought them… but it’s not about the taste with candy hearts, it’s about the pastel, the experience, and above all else: the sayings! Who doesn’t remember going through a pack with friends, trying to find the kookiest message? Digging through a box to find one that was just the right level of romantic to give a certain special someone? (And maybe the heartbreak when you received one in turn where the message was just a big, pink smudge?)

Now, candy hearts have been around for a long time. And with a constant rotation of messages so we always got fun variety in a box, they’ve had a lot of sayings.

Through a great deal of internet sleuthing (and a little creativity on my part), I’ve collected over seven hundred of them.

Some are a little raunchy (TEASE ME), and some are downright rude (EW NO). They range from classic (BE MINE) to contemporary (SWIPE RIGHT) to were-at-one-point-contemporary (FAX ME). Some of them are, quite frankly so hyper specific it’s a wonder they made it into circulation at all (ME JULIE BEST MUM).

And they are all, even the weird ones, ripe with potential as fic prompts!

The way this mini-fest works is simple:

From 12:01am EST Feb 1 until 11:59pm EST March 1, drop me an ask containing these emojis: 🍬💕

If you don't want to send an ask from your main tumblr account (or don't have a tumblr account), you can do so anonymously. However, you must include the ao3 handle or tumblr sideblog from which you plan to complete the challenge.

I will shake my Great Big Box of Candy Hearts and pull out a unique candy heart for you and only you!

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[pretty-batty]

Crybaby

Eddie x Judy (ofc) Part 11 of Eldath's Priestess 5754 Words

Warnings- SMUT (18+), angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, non-penitrative sex, tiddie fucking, monster fucking, mentions of past gay escapades, mentions of past threesome (hinted to be Billy), MEDICAL MENTIONS: needles, overdosing, drugs, intracardial injections. Mentions of major character death. Now on ao3. Thanks to @anakinkshamer, my beloved beta reader and editor. Notes: not canon compliant, also mungrove as a pairing isn't fully addressed, but hinted at.

Summary- As Vecna's power grows, Judy is faced with an impossible choice.

Samwise was bigger than the rest of the demo-bats, waddling at Eddie’s heels like a medium-sized dog. Eddie could only take walks in the dark since he returned home. The yellow of his eyes reflected any light that would shine near him, so sticking to the deep woods would avoid that possibility. Although, the predatory gaze of his personal horde of demo-bats also kept people far from the trees.

This was Judy’s first time joining him, clinging to his arm to keep herself from falling. She understood why there was a “no flashlights” rule, but with the moon covered by pitch black canopy of trees it was impossible to see. No doubt Eddie’s supernatural abilities gave him night-vision, but Judy’s occasional thump “ow” proved that it wasn’t shared.

“You want me to carry you?” Eddie finally asked.

“No, it’s fine.” A lie. It took another scuff of her shoe against a surfaced tree root for her to relent. “Yeah…yeah I’d like that…”

He crouched down, Judy’s hand tracing along his shoulders, feeling around blindly before mounting his back. His arms formed stirrups for her legs. “Your loyal steed, my lady.”

“Thank you, my precious paladin.”

“Paladin,” he finally rose to his full height, Judy wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Sorry, I thought you’d prefer dungeon master.” She said, pressing a kiss at the crown of his head.

“If I can stay your paladin, that’s all I need. Edward the Stalwart and Princess Nim Hellarad, reunited at last.” He smiled, switching up his gate to provide extra bounce, Samwise chittering in surprise.

Judy rested her chin on his shoulder. “You think they’ll get a happy ending?”

“I’ll make sure of it, buttercup.”

A screeching rang from beyond the trees, accompanied by a torrent of flapping wings. She expected the trees to stir with Eddie’s own creatures as the larger horde passed over them. But they remained, chittering and snapping at each other, none taking wing.

“What’s going on?”

Eddie rolled his head slightly, groaning. “Vecna’s calling.”

“Like the frenzy?”

“Not that bad. It controls the creatures, not me. But my little buddies wait until I give them permission.” He explained. “So, Dustin tried to explain it to me. It’s like those circuits they had us build in school. There are two lightbulbs. The mindflayer is the battery. Vecna is one switch for one bulb. I control the other. If I’m awake, conscious, the connection is possible, if I’m unconscious, then no connection.”

“I’m not even going to try to get you to elaborate.”

“Basically, if I’m asleep, so are the bats. And all I do is take naps so…”

Judy pressed a kiss against the cuff of his ear. “Among other things.”

“My favorite things…” He purred, “speaking of…you wanna go home?”

“Yes please.”

Samwise stayed outside when Eddie continued to carry Judy inside, still on his back. Wayne was at the plant, Margie in bed. Still, they tamped down their giggles as much as they could. Judy reaching back to lock the back door, her hand returned to Eddie’s shoulder, tapping it twice. “Down, please.”

“Nope. This floor is no good, Princess Hellarad. I must find a suitable place for you.” He announced. Swiftly, with new purpose, he moved to the couch, letting her plop down on the cushions. He turned, gazing at her in the moonlight. “No.”

“Eddie come on.” Before she could finish he lifted her bridal style, carrying her up the stairs and into Wayne’s empty room, plopping her on the bed for a moment.

He stood, panting. His face began to glisten with sweat. One more deep breath. “Nope.”

His body hunched over, yanking her over his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist, Judy’s arms pressed against the center of his back. She shook her head with a smile, “Goddamnit.”

Eddie opened her bedroom door with one hand, tossing her on her bed. He closed the door, leaning his body against it casually then turning the lock. His eyebrows rising at the click. Judy was halfway done with taking off her pants, shoes already yanked off with the laces still tied. “Eager, are we?” He asked.

“To get my clothes off, yes.” She smiled.

He laughed, slowly quieting as she continued to shimmy her jeans off her legs, panties as well, chucking them to the side. Her thicket of dark hair glistening in the moonlight as it peeked through the branches of the tree outside her window. Eddie’s hand ran down his inner thigh, moving to stroke himself over his zipper. His claws scraped against the denim, eyes soon latching completely to the sight of Judy’s breasts falling from her unlined, wireless sleeping bra.

“You okay, big fella?” She asked.

His top teeth slid across his bottom lip, pulling the bottom stitch taught, releasing a calming breath. “Your tiddies are always so pretty.”

“You have something in mind?” She purred, lifting her remaining clothes over her head, letting them drop to the floor. She laid back on her pillows. Bathing in his gaze as it poured over her glistening skin like honey. She already knew what he wanted, and she’d gladly oblige. Her hands reached down to the meeting of her thighs, her arms pushing her breasts together. Her right fingers stroked along her clit, the left teasing her entrance.

Her breasts were poised perfectly, caged by her biceps, hypnotizing Eddie with each breath she took. He stripped himself bare, climbing from the foot of the bed, over her body. Before he could straddle her waist, cock poised at the bottom of her sternum, Judy raised her left hand from between her legs, running her slick coated fingers down his cock. Just wet enough to slide in with no resistance.

Eddie's cock slid between her breasts, his tip poking from the top, dusky pink against her moonlit skin. Her left hand settled on his hip, her right continued to pleasure herself. After one pass through her soft tits, his tip began to leak. He hissed through his teeth, leaning his head back to reveal his neck to Judy, her eyes latching on his bobbing Adam’s apple.

Her nails gripped his hip just below his scar as he continued to thrust, smiling at the sight of his two clawed hands reaching down pushing her breasts together himself, rolling his dark thumbs over he nipples. Her top teeth dragged over her lip as their gazes met once again.

Her arms relaxed, no longer needing to hold anything in place. She simply focused on her own pleasure, strumming her aching bud. Any sort of orgasm would do at this point. Her other hand migrated up Eddie's torso, running her thumb over his nipple. The friction set him alight, thrusting quicker and shallower. Each time she looked down, she could see his leaking tip, glistening and dripping with need between her breasts.

She gave his nipple a slight roll with her fingers. Eddie's lips parted in a higher pitched moan. But he kept going, closing his mouth with an “mmm” before closing his eyes, Judy continuing the action a few more times. That sound he made was enough, a wave a pleasure spread through Judy's body, leaving her with that gentle buzz beneath her skin.

She pressed her head into the pillow, exposing her long neck. Eddie's thrusts became more erratic. The sight of her, exposed and used, covered in him and nothing else, must have been the last straw. Before he could ask her to stick her tongue out to catch it, his cum spurted from his tip and up her neck. His mouth opened with another cry as more emptied from him. Judy quickly tilted her face down, lips parting and tongue stretched to accept what he had left. He managed a few drops for her before he let go of her breasts, leaving his spent and aching cock bare.

Judy withdrew her tongue back into her mouth, swallowing his spend as he watched, her right hand finally released from under Eddie’s thigh. A combination of his sweat on her forearm and her own juices on her fingers were muted by her aching wrist, wiping her hand and arm on her sheets before bringing it up and rubbing it with her left hand. Eddie reached down with a “here”, taking her wrist in his fingers and massaging it. “Haven’t fingered someone in a while, you’re out of practice.” He smiled.

“I mean…if you’re offering, I can always play with what you have.”

Eddie let out a laugh, “not my thing.”

“Right, Mister Stone Top.” She added, pausing for a second as Eddie fished tissues out of the box on her bedside table. There was a tightness in her chest, nervous about intruding, before letting it go as she asked. “Did you ever try it, before you got with me?”

He gazed at her, gathering his spend from her neck, wiping it away. His expression softened, “yeah…not a fan. It hurt and I didn’t like how it made me feel…like…emotionally.” Eddie threw the tissues away, gathering more as he moved down to the valley between her breasts, now parted to their respective sides. The soft tissues left her skin dry. He continued rambling, “Honestly, didn’t like the head part either. I mean getting head from a dude, great. They go in and like get it done, man. But like…giving head. Depending on the size, it would feel invasive. I would listen to these guys talking about loving big cocks and how they felt in their mouths, and I was like ‘I prefer it not to hit the back of my throat, thanks.’ Just a sensible four is as big as I need.” Eddie tossed the other tissues away, then paused. “You never asked me about that before.”

“You never asked me about my escapades either. Thought it would be…invasive to ask you.” she explained, sitting up and pulling her knees so her chest. She didn’t know why she felt so self-conscious. “Maybe I was scared that if we talked about it, I’d tell you about what I did, and you might get…weird about it.”

“Me? Get weird about that? I think you have forgotten who you’re with, baby. And what we’ve done together.”

Judy’s face felt flush. “Or that I might feel…jealous…of the people you were with.” She continued, “but it’s weird…because I don’t feel jealous. I feel…”

Eddie’s mischievous smile emerged, his nose pushing past her knees and into her face, “turned on.” Judy looked away, lips tight in embarrassment. He let out his signature chuckle, “baby, the image of you going down on another girl has gotten me through many a night.”

“Really?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. But when I got with you, and when we did that thing with whatshisname…I realized I didn’t like sharing you.”

“I didn’t like sharing you either. And you didn’t even fuck him.”

Eddie pressed his forehead against hers, bumping their noses together. “So, whatever we did before, it’s fine. Nothing to be ashamed of. We can use it as spank bank material for each other. I’ll think about you being three fingers deep in a cheerleader, and you can think about me fucking jocks in the ass.”

Judy let out a wheeze before reeling back and cackling, quickly covering her own mouth, making sure not disturb anyone else in the house. Eddie smiled, pressing a kiss on her nose. “Only! If I have your permission. You already have mine.”

She nodded with a regal air, “Of course. You may jack off to my lesbo escapades.”

Eddie hopped off the bed, his softened cock bounced in the air before he got on his knees, bringing his fists down in a pump of victory, releasing a voiceless “YES!”

Judy continued to stifle her giggles, as did Eddie. His eyes followed up her bedside to her legs, the little hairs almost twinkling like rhinestones. She hadn’t shaved in a bit, but her comfort level with Eddie made it so that she didn’t need to fret.

He rose to his feet, climbing over top of Judy again as she lowered her legs. He rested his ear against her sternum, bracketed by her soft breasts. Her skin smelled like him, and a little bit of her too. Her heart’s gentle rhythm playing beneath his stitched-up cheek. “I can’t believe you’re mine, buttercup.”

Judy’s chest ached at his sweetness, soothed by a slight kiss from the corner of Eddie’s mouth. Her long fingers ran through his curls, nails softly scratching at his scalp. Eddie, like the large beast he was, let out a purr.

She smiled, “I always was, baby.”

As Eddie finally drifted off to sleep, the horde of deformed bats in the woods grew silent as well. The night was finally still.

-------------------------------------------

Maybe telling Judy their plan was a bad idea. That’s what Judy thought, at least. She could feel the sweat form on the back of her neck as Dustin continued to explain how Rick was the only one who could supply the “sedatives or whatever”. Her face grew hot again, eyes fixed to the cabin floor.

She had no place to argue. These kids were all gifted. Strategic in their planning. But feeling Rick’s eyes on her made the feeling of helplessness worse. Judy finally spoke, interrupting the meeting of the young minds. “You understand that an overdose that size can kill him? We’re just gonna breeze past that. There is a fine line. And we don’t have the equipment that could keep him alive.”

“Under my watch, he’ll be just fine. I’ll make sure of it.” Rick said.

She stood up from her spot on the couch, throwing off the balance of the room as everyone else remained seated. “You? You’ll take care of it? I wouldn’t trust you to water my aunt’s azaleas.”

“You can’t blame me.”

“I can blame you for everything if I want to. You got Joe hooked on heroin, persuaded him not to go to rehab before it got bad. He’s dead. You had Eddie selling the harder shit while you were locked up to keep your product moving, had him selling ketamine, the ketamine that Cunningham wanted, and it ended up with her dead in Eddie’s home and Eddie falsely accused of her murder. If you hadn’t persuaded him to do that, he would be fine, he would be living with me far the fuck away from here.” She reached her limit, “So no, Richard, you won’t take care of it. Because I can’t stand the idea of losing Eddie aga-” She shut her mouth, clenching her teeth.

Dustin stood up, walking himself between her and Rick, his hands up to her in submission. “Okay, that’s fine. You…could do it. Right. You got that training.”

Judy’s eyes stung, realizing she hadn’t blinked the entire time she was ripping Rick apart. She closed her eyes, a rogue tear leaking from the corner of her eye. “Have you talked to Eddie about this?”

“It was his idea.” Dustin insisted.

Thum. It had been years since she felt that. The hallow drum within her chest and the mallet striking it, shaking off the cobwebs. She returned to her spot on the couch, Steve to her right, the arm rest on her left, the door behind her.

Thum.

All she had to do was get up and leave.

Just go. Get up. Get back up.

Steve’s hand moved, resting on her arm. It was softer than she expected, warm. “I’d trust ‘em.”

Her voice came out several decibels lower, “Rick or Eddie?”

“Both.”

The meeting continued the plan being very similar to the one from months back. Separate, go in through different points, weaken him, and send in El for the kill.

Judy finally spoke again, “are we sure it’s just El he wants?”

“What do you mean?” Asked Mike, a slight scoff in his voice, “that’s all he’s been saying.”

“Well,” she continued, “from what I heard, it’s Will too, and Max. And it was the three teens who died in spring. People who were face to face with the Vecna or the mindflayer.”

“When did Vecna see Chrissy in person?”

Judy felt her skin prickle, realizing watching the pieces emerge into a single image. “In 1976, a flu swept through Hawkins. The sickest kids had febrile seizures and went blind. The local bio lab made a treatment. The doctor in charge of it, Doctor Brenner…brought his son.”

“One…” El whispered.

She nodded, “Some of the children who received the treatment were Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney, Barb Holland, Marty Miller, Vicky Blake…and me.” Her last admission was quietest, hanging in the air. “There are others besides me and Vicky that are alive. No one is within twenty miles of Hawkins, except me.”

“So why are you still here?” Robin asked. There was something about her tone, or the ‘still’ that she added that pinched at her skin.

Judy bit back, “Because my boyfriend is here, and now that I know some of you are willing to kill him, again, I’m definitely not leaving.” She knew she was a little sensitive, a nerve had been exposed when Rick arrived. But her bitchiness was surprising to even herself. “Sorry, that was really mean. Maybe it’s the anxiety or something…but all of this,” her hand moved in a circle to her right, “isn’t helping.”

Her stomach started to gurgle, indigestion, again. She reached into her purse, fishing out her Rolaids, unwrapping a disk and popping it in her mouth. As she chewed, her hand cupped her face, rubbing her nose on her own skin in a hypnotic pattern. Their voices turned into a rumble in the back of her mind, rising and falling with intensity.

“Who was Joe?” The voice carried softly over the others.

Judy looked to her right, where Steve once was Max sat. Her ginger braids over her shoulders. She answered, “He was my older brother. Died thanksgiving of eighty-four.”

“I lost my older brother too, well stepbrother.” Max explained.

Judy placed her hand over Max’s, giving a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry to hear that. Not something you can get over.”

“His name was Billy. You might have met him. He was an asshole.”

Judy’s gray eyes widened for a moment, grateful that Max could not see her expression. She knew Billy very well…too well…the way his lips pressed against her skin as it spilled over her leather bralette, how his curls looked in Eddie’s fist. She blinked hard to clear her mind.

“But he was your asshole.” she added, shaking her head with a slight laugh. “I know it.”

Max smiled at that, soft, haunted. It dropped. “He was killed right in front of me. This flesh creature shoved its tendril through his chest, punched a hole right through. I can still smell it sometimes.”

“I wish there was something I can give you to make it easier.” Judy admitted, “but there isn’t. You’ll always think of him, and it’ll always hurt. Just each time you do, try to dig deep and find the good memories. Anything to drown out the last thing you saw.” Her mind wandered to Joe’s face, lids half-closed, color seeping away. She shook her head, blinking again. “Sorry about the unsolicited advice.”

“It’s okay.” Max said, “did you know him?”

She took in a breath, letting it out. A little bit of truth was good enough, perhaps his music selection, “yeah. Scorpions, Ratt, Poison. His regular bands. He was nicer than most of my customers, but I think it was to score the eventual discount.”

“Judy!”

Her gaze moved with the nod of her head. The cluster required her attention. Rick had ducked out before she could see him. They had relocated to the kitchen, a map sprawled out on the dining table. She approached. The huddle parted, Robin quickly caught Judy by the arm. “Hey, I just wanted to check on you.” She took a beat, gathering her thoughts before opening her mouth and “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to come off as mean sometimes I just have those tone problem at least my parents say that I do and I can’t really tell when it happens until it hurts somebody.”

Judy managed a smile, taking both Robin’s arms, “hey, it’s okay. I’m in a place where I can’t…” she searched her mouth for the words, finding none. Just managing a, “ya know?”

Robin nodded, “yeah, definitely.”

“But I appreciate that you’d check on me.” She gave Robin’s elbows a soft squeeze before parting, “I gotta go see what curly wants, before he gets mad at me.”

“Keeping him waiting is never good.” Steve added.

Approaching Dustin, Judy found herself approaching a quartet of young men. Shoulders hunched over the map, murmuring amongst themselves. “So, what do you need?”

“You and Rick need to cover Eddie, the best placement is your house.” Will said.

Dustin continued, “Far enough from a gate that if something goes wrong, it stalls Vecna from being able to regain his bat horde to his location.”

“There is a big chance that this will kill him, you understand that? For all we know, Vecna is what’s keeping him alive.” Judy chewed on her bottom lip, “so either the overdose kills him”

Mike concluded. “And Vecna loses control of that horde permanently.”

“Or Eddie survives the drugs, Vecna dies…and Eddie dies.” Judy finished, “God you guys are really dead set on killing him.”

“We don’t know if it’ll kill him. His wounds have healed. You might be able to restart his heart with a defibrillator.” Lucas introjected.

“That’s not how it works. Defibs only reset an abnormal heartrate.” She explained, “It’s not like tv. You’d have to give him epinephrine, either intravenously or intracardially, all the while doing continuous chest compressions. And I’m not trained to put in a line. Hopefully, in that time, Rick would have called EMS. God knows I can’t bring myself to trust that man.”

“You’ll have to.”

The words spat like hot grease, her lip curling in disgust. “I’ll have to talk to him about this.” She meant Eddie. Her Eddie, who somehow managed to assist in concocting this plot that would most certainly end with his death. Judy was beginning to think he wanted to kill himself. Not knowing that Eddie, in fact, had limited time anyway.

His “not yet” had turned into “not ever” as he pushed the inevitable discussion of his death further away. Robbing Judy of solid ground, until she was blindsided by this eventual execution in 36 hours.

By “talk to him about it”, Judy originally meant scream at him about it until she had an aneurism. But when she got home to him, his sad puppy eyes, his guilt-ridden expression. She could only melt into his arms and sob. The two landing on the entryway floor.

“I don’t want you to die.” She managed choke out, another deep sob wracked her body. “Please, Eddie. Just tell me you don’t want to do this.”

Eddie’s chin rested atop her head. “I don’t want to do this, baby.” He ran his cheek along her hair. She had managed to fold herself into the smallest shape possible, curling into his lap. “He’ll kill me, regardless.” Judy let out another wail, muffled by Eddie’s t-shirt. “I’m so sorry, Judy. Wish I had told you.” His lips parted in her hair, at first to press a kiss, but only to let out a cry of his own. His chest shook against her cheek. His speech became clenched and difficult. “I don’t wanna die, babe.” He hiccupped, “But I w-will.” He sucked in a breath. “Jst wanna do something right.” His voice ran dry, managing quiet whimpers of “I’m so sorry, Judy.”

Wayne and Margie were sitting on the back steps, each with a glass of whiskey in their hands. While Judy had been told of the plan from the Scooby Gang, Eddie had told Wayne and Margie. Their faces now haggard and pale, carrying the heavy burden of the incoming death of another nephew, another son. Samwise, like the dutiful companion it was, stayed at their feet, purring in an attempt to comfort them, only seeming to unnerve them instead.

Within the next day and a half, Judy and Eddie didn’t leave the house, hardly leaving the bedroom. If they did, it was together. Attached at the hip, or both hips, arms around each other. As if they were teenagers again, finally together after almost a decade of avoiding their feelings. But the reason was different this time. In counting down the hours, neither one wanted to miss a moment. Judy could never get sick of Eddie. And Eddie, riddled with terror and guilt, just wanted his girl close. To smell her, feel her, to open his eyes and see her.

“My princess” “my angel” “my girl”, anything he could call her other than her name would pour from his lips. As for her name, he practically breathed it. Wrapped around her, within her, anything he could do.

While they spent their last moments together, Margie and Wayne made their plans to evacuate, at their children’s behest. Wayne was the more reluctant of the two. But after many tears and pleas, Margie was in the beetle driving to stay with a friend in Indianapolis. Wayne, on the other hand, was much harder to sway.

“You needed me, and I wasn’t there.” The older man insisted, “I can’t live with myself again if I failed you a second time.”

“You didn’t fail me, pop. But if you die in this…” Eddie took in a deep breath, “I need you to be here for Judy when it’s done. And me…if I magically survive. Please, just this once, listen to me.” He reached out, the first time he had separated himself from Judy in hours and brought Wayne into a hug. “Please, I need you to get out of here.”

Wayne’s arms slowly wrapped around his nephew, holding him as close as he could. His eyes shimmered with tears before finally relenting, “alright.” He gave Eddie one last squeeze, “you stink, son.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, just…clean yourself up before you do your thing. Don’t want you runnin’ around lookin’ like no one cares about you.” Finally, they separated, Wayne giving his nephew one last kiss on his forehead, ruffling his hair. No doubt something he used to do when Eddie was younger. They said their goodbyes before Wayne got in his car and slowly rolled out of the driveway. He lingered in front of the house for a moment, before raising his hand in one last wave, driving east and out of Hawkins.

6 Hours remained.

Eddie and Judy rarely showered together. Unless they were willing to exert significant effort neither of them could get properly clean. This was their last chance to try again. They got in the shower, bare chest to chest, rotating together in fourths to get properly clean.

“This is so stupid.” Judy laughed.

“Listen, babe, I don’t know what you want from me.” Half of Eddie’s mane was under the water, the other half still white with suds. “This was your plan.”

Judy was in the same situation, a direct mirror of Eddie, water down half her curls, the other sudsy and smelling of oranges. They continued their dance, taking a hour for a normal shower. Taking as long as they needed. Drying each other off gently, peppering each other with kisses when they could.

Attempting to make six hours feel like an eternity. And to their effort, it did. They were cuddled on the couch together when there was a knock at the door. Early afternoon. It was time.

Having Rick inside her home again already set Judy’s teeth on edge. There was only so many times she could stand him patting Eddie on the back, insisting on how happy he was that Eddie was alive.

“I’m not used to this superhero shit, man. You know that.” He reiterated, laughing to himself, “but if it means ridding myself of my stash and starting over in a more legitimate product, I’d call it a win.” Rick paused at the silence, “What? It’s a joke! God, can’t tell jokes anymore with you kids. Always so serious.”

“Garage, by the way. I don’t want that acrid smell in my house.” Judy managed to say.

“No problem, boss.” He gave her a casual salute, gathering his supplies once more and leaving out the back door.

Eddie approached Judy, his claws running down her arms to cradle her from behind. His nose pressed against her ear. “Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll be alright.”

“No, I’m supposed to be the one doing the reassuring.” She turned in his arms, bringing her hands to stroke his face, trailing her shaking fingers over the crags of his maw. “I just…”

He caressed her wrist, pressing his lips against her skin.

“I don’t want you to die. I can’t do that again. I can’t…” Her voice stopped, hiccupping into a panicked gasp. “Oh God.”

“It’s okay, Judy baby. If anything happens,”

“No.”

“Yes, you need to listen to me.” His hands grasped her by the sides of her face, forcing her to meet his yellowed gaze. “If anything happens, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault. I love you more than…” He shook his head, no words could express it. “It was always supposed to end like this.”

Judy’s eyes bubbled over with tears, completely obscuring her view. Her back teeth ached from the clenching, holding back any wail that wished to escape. “Please, Eddie.” She whimpered.

“You’re mine, buttercup. You always will be.” He brought her face to his, pressing his lips to hers. She gave way, accepting his kiss, his tongue, his reassuring smile. His hands finally released her cheeks and gripped any inch of her curves he could reach. Holding her as close as he possibly could, and adding another inch with each breath, her sobs finally quieted, dancing across her tongue to him. The more he kissed her, the more he could hide his sobs. Each gasp for air was simply that, a gasp. Every draw of her lips soothing his terror, and the taste of her tongue brought him bliss.

He finally spoke. “Or” they finally parted, “I’ll be perfectly fine, everything will go well, you’ll revive me, and we’ll move to Pennsyltucky,” another quick kiss on her nose, “and raise angora rabbits.”

Judy finally wiped her tears away, finally able to see Eddie clearly. His face was red and wet, a testament to his own sorrow. “Perfect.” She whispered.

“Misses and Mister Sondheim.”

“Still wanting my name, huh?” Judy asked, her face found its way to his. Her hooked nose to his cheek.

“Well, I’m not keeping this one.”

The walkie-talkie crackled awake, Robin’s voice rising above the static. “Bat-Daddy, what’s the status?”

“You gotta say over.”

“Over.”

“Bat-Daddy?” mouthed Judy.

Eddie wiggled his eyebrows, “you know it, crybaby.”

“Wait…. wait am I crybaby? Eddie do they call me crybaby?”’

He shrugged.

“Crybaby are you there? Over.” Dustin.

Her top lip twitched for a moment, snatching the walkie from the table and answering. “No crybaby here, but there are two bat parents. You may call me bat-mother, thank you.”

There was a pause before Dustin added, “You gotta say over. Over.”

“Over.”

“Okay, cool. What is your status bat…mother?”

Judy gave a definite nod, “Thank you. Asshole is cooking up what we need. He’ll get us when he’s ready. Then I’ll reach you during bedtime…over.”

“Let’s get you in a k-hole, big fella.” Rick said with a smile, poking his head around the storm door.

Eddie took Judy’s hand, pressing her knuckles to his lips. Then he made his way to the garage, Judy trailing behind.

“Shirt off, big guy. Judy, can you find his entry point? Below fourth rib.”

The two were surprised on his forward nature.

“You said you have emt training?” Rick continued.

“No…just first aid, who told you emt?”

Rick waved off the question, fixing a cap over the epinephrine shot. “Can you do an intracardial injection?”

“I know how, but I’ve never done it before.”

“Okay, cool.” He affixed the shot in the hard leather case, followed by the sound of zippers and clinks of metal. “Here.” Rick’s arms wrapped around her waist, the buckle of the fanny pack clicking into place. “So we don’t lose it. Now,” his attention shifted to a shirtless Eddie, finally getting to see his scars, “fuck bro they weren’t kidding. Uh…belly up on the floor.”

Judy watched Eddie follow the direction. She followed suit, her fingers probing his chest until she found the correct position. The sharpie in hand, she marked it with a heavy circle. “Like those tests say, fill the bubble heavy and dark.” Her hand shook as it drew the marker away, capping it.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby.” Eddie whispered.

She smiled, pursing her lips to blow air on to the mark.

“No babe…over a bit.”

“I’m not blowing on your nipple, you nasty boy.”

Eddie raised his brows again, biting his bottom lip. “Suit yourself.”

“I’ll literally do anything you want when this is over, and you live.” She let out another stream of air, moving her aim for one last puff, gracing over his dusky pink nipple and winking at him as it stiffened.

“You two done? As much as I dig the love, very cool, I do need to knock this boy out before he turns into Carrie or something.” Rick offered Eddie a little cup of pills, rattling off the concoction he had created, comprising of downers and a paralytic.

“Hearing a white guy say ‘dig’ will always be weird.” Judy muttered, watching Eddie sit up and take the cup from his hand. She turned away from both of them before Eddie’s free hand touched hers.

“I love you, buttercup.”

She pressed her lips into a line, swallowing back a sob. “Love you too.” One last squeeze of his hand before he let go, knocking back the pills, following it with a glass of watered-down vodka. Gently, Rick and Judy guided him to the back wall.

“My paladin.” She watched as the medication started to take effect, Eddie’s eyes slowly dulling, lids fluttering closed. Judy rose to her feet, taking the walkie from the table. “Bat-mother to cave, bat-daddy is down. Over.”

It's the homestretch now children. Thank you my friends for reading! See ya next weekend! Ps: don't worry mungrove babes, I got a fic for you in a future. Tag List: @loserboysandlithium @userchai @secretdryrose

[naiad-lagoon]

nanowrimo has recently released a statement about the use of ai which is incredibly disappointing and beyond frustrating. the article itself can be found here.

they state that they do not "explicitly support any specific approach to writing, nor does it condemn any approach, including ai." regardless of whether or not they endorse ai, including it in a space carved out for writers is a slap in the face to anyone who takes on the challenge of 50k words in one month, or simply of writing in general. ai is not an "approach to writing" because you are not writing when you are using ai. yes, this applies in any part of the writing process, including editing, brainstorming, and beta-reading.

the three issues listed for this neutral stance on ai are: classism, ableism, and general access issues. i'd like to touch on the classism claim briefly, and provide alternative resources.

their explanation for classism and its relation to ai usage is that not all writers have the financial means to hire additional human help for certain parts in the writing process. this is true - i am writers in this situation. i am one of the many people who cannot afford to hire people to edit or beta-read my work. this is not an excuse to utilize ai. as nanowrimo itself preaches, the writing community is absolutely massive and full of people who want to support other writers! so what can we use instead of ai? here's some options:

edit your own work! i personally find editing one of the most enjoyable parts of writing, and often prefer to edit my own work; however, i recognize editing is not something that everyone enjoys or has time to do, and there is merit in getting another pair of eyes to look at your work. so here's some more options:

friends and family - very common suggestion, but it is pretty darn effective at getting someone to read your work for free. if you are mortified by someone you know reading your writing (same), there are other ways.

critique match is not a program i've used, but i have heard good things about. it helps you match up with a free critique partner, and provides resources if you are looking to hire an editor.

there are so so many reddit communities where you can post asking for beta-readers and people will often be willing to help. a big ones is r/betareaders. you can also find a subreddit for your specific genre and ask for help.

there are discord communities too! partners in ink is a small discord server where you can connect with beta-readers or critique partners

if you are a college student, i cannot emphasize this enough, take advantage of the damn resources they give you. many many colleges have online resources with information about editing your work - albeit it is typically from an academic standpoint. many also have writing centers! traditionally they are for essay review, but very often they are willing to look over creative writing pieces as well.

engage! with! other! writers! you are on tumblr. be friendly, reblog, chat, make mutuals. ask people for help and offer help to others. no one is going to bite you i promise. heck, shoot me a dm with your work and chances are i will at least look it over.

these are all resources i have gathered from either pre-existing knowledge or quite literally 30 minutes of research. you have options, and you have a community.

[demonicdeadbeat]

𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔯

I'm Oliver (he/they interchangable), I'm in my 30s, and I'm a roleplayer and writer who does (sometimes very) lazy literate style roleplay. I'm disabled, trans masculine nonbinary, neurodivergent and I like to think I'm a decent enough RP partner if we click. I have Discord, which is predominantly where I roleplay. I reply usually multiple times a day.

I don't care much about literacy levels or mistakes, as long as you have some grasp of English and we're having fun, why does it matter?

You must be 21+ to RP or interact with me. I have no interest in even SFW RP with minors. I don't care about your IRL gender or what have you though.

𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤

Most of these are m×m as I strongly prefer that. Enby×m is fine also. I do f×m incredibly rarely and only if I can play the guy. Trans and intersex characters are very much welcome. Some of my favourite OCs are trans masc themselves and I sometimes AU my favourite canon characters as trans masc too.

Generally I will play either half of these pairings. I also enjoy occasionally doubling up if there's a plot you really want to play also.

I enjoy writing smut and kink immensely, but do also enjoy plot too. A 50/50 split is good. I have a Kink Garden page I can give out on request to see if our kinks align.

I only use real person or solely descriptive FCs. No anime and no cartoons, sorry. I am not picky about your FC usually. I generally favour FCs over 25 at least, and tend to only play people over 30 myself.

I really like becoming friends outside of the RP, I love making playlists, mood boards, chatting, text message threads if appropriate, etc.

My characters are usually switches and vers, but I can assume a more top or Dom role, or a more bottom or submissive role, if it works with the RP.

I do not generally use Tupperbox or related bots but I could for the right RP partner!

Fandom Based:

Generally I am very open to AUs and love putting my favourite characters into them, so don't be afraid to ask if you have your heart set on an AU for any of the following.

Good Omens (Aziraphale × Crowley)

FFXIV (OC × OC only)

Baldur's Gate 3 (Astarion × Gale, Astarion × Wyll, Astarion × Halsin, Gale x Wyll, Durge × Most Male Canon Characters, Tav × Most Male Canon Characters)

Fandomless:

All of these ideas are deliberately vague, so we can plot together!

Modern with Supernatural Creatures (Vampire × Werewolf, Werewolf × Werewolf, Undead/Immortal race × Human, Monster × Human generally)

Modern with Magic (Any pairing that fits the setting, including AUs)

Dungeons and Dragons-esque/High Medieval Fantasy (Knight × Prince, Prince × Commoner, Adventurer × Adventurer, Monster × Humanoid generally, Pirates, High Society, Forbidden Romance, any other pairing that fits the setting, including AUs)

Modern (Kinky Hedonist × Newbie to the Kink Scene and other kink lifestyle based plots, Sugar Baby x Sugar Daddy, Musician × Techie, Poet × Musician, Writer × Editor, Florist × Artist, Artist × Muse, Soulmates AU, Forbidden Romance pretty much anything)

Omegaverse (Can be added onto any other plot tbh, I usually play Alpha or Beta against an Omega, but could play an Omega too if wanted against your Alpha or Beta.)

Interested? Contact me through this blog and I'll send you my Discord username!

[phthalology]

happy talk shop tuesday wednesday! please tell us about the difference, for you, between writing origfic and fanfic. is it difficult to strike a balance between the two in terms of desire/the differing needs of the genres/reception/etc? are you leaning more in one direction than the other these days and why? what obligations do you feel the genres place upon you? and such like.

Thank you for this twednesday ask which I will answer at length and bitterly!!

I write original fiction because doing so is one of a couple possible ways to reach a life-long career goal. Once I reach that goal, I expect to stop, unless I am paid. I’m slowly working on all of the ways. If not for that goal, I probably wouldn’t do it. I do like to apply what I’ve learned about original fiction structure to fanfic, because emphasizing stakes, forcing characters to make small but illustrative choices, creating contrast between characters, and pinpointing what a character wants are good story engines for a reason. Doing those things gives the story a kick!

I also don’t think I’m particularly good at those techniques. For me, original fiction craft is like navigating in the fog: I can’t really see what I’m doing, where I’m going or whether I’m doing it well compared to fellow travelers; I can only keep pulling the lines I have, pretty sure the more expensive boats do actually work better than my hand-built canoe does, and listen to the foghorns and shouting and such in the distance.

That pretty sentence? Has pretty much none of the requirements of a good original scene, I don’t think.

Reception … I like reception. It’s nice. I get it from fic, or, occasionally, from a person beta-reading original stuff. The fic reception is more fun.

I invariably lean both ways, but I set a relatively high original submission goal for myself this year.

Obligations … I do feel that for orig fic I need to keep up with contemporary styles and trends. For me, this is easy. I like reading contemporary work. But one runs into a lot of requirements when submitting that make it feel like applying for jobs. Twice in quick succession I wanted to submit to certain mags but couldn’t because the editors were vegetarian or simply by preference did not accept stories involving meat-eating or violence toward animals. This appears in an astonishing amount of my stories, usually in the form of fantasy creatures fighting each other, or in passing mentions of farming.

Fanfic of course also has some obligations in terms of community norms, but it’s completely different. It’s difficult to go from fanfic to a world of obligations with much higher stakes. The major difference is that out of fanfic I get short-term pleasure and confidence. Out of original fiction I get a sense of connectedness to what I decided meant security to me back when I was a kid. Those, maybe, mean the latter makes a better story.

[tarysande]

Can I ask, how does one go about becoming an editor? Like, where do you apply for jobs?? What kinda training do you do?? Are there companies that hire out editors to writers? Im just so confused about it. Ive always been interested in editing, and am considering doing it as a job

Editing is a weird career.

Really, I started as a writer. Like, when I was eleven. In jr. high and high school, I was in a writing critique group and I wrote a lot. I graduated from university with a degree in theatre, film, and creative writing. I was often the person my friends came to when they needed help with a paper (or the correct placement of a semicolon). I've been involved in fandom since I was about 17, and I was very fortunate to fall in with a group of excellent writers who were also excellent betas and editors. I learned a TON from them without realizing how much I was learning.

I started editing by accident, really. Sometimes, that's how it happens. I mostly got gigs here and there through friends or word of mouth. About ten years ago, I got more serious about it. I worked for companies that paid horribly. Then I did an editing test for a company that paid less horribly, and they hired me. After a couple of years editing countless academic papers, ESL academic papers, novels, emails, business documents, etc., I decided to branch out on my own (mostly so I could work on more fiction; I was burned out on academic papers).

I joined Editors Canada, started volunteering with them, got a lot more experience, and took a few continuing ed courses to gauge where my skills were at and to determine if I needed to upgrade my education. I decided I didn't need to do that, because I already knew the things I was being taught.

I read a lot of books on editing, writing, and craft. I familiarized myself with the Chicago Manual of Style, APA, MLA, and a couple of other style guides. I learned the differences in spelling, punctuation, and style between US, UK, and Canadian English. I went to webinars, conferences, and courses (all the major editing associations offer these, usually cheaper or free for members; they are a great way to determine what kinds of editing you actually LIKE). I learned the difference between rules and preferences, and when to apply them to a text.

I work freelance, which means I have my own business as a sole proprietor. I'm a contractor with a couple of companies who sometimes send work my way, but most of my clients are individual writers planning to either self-publish or polish their work before seeking traditional publication via the agent/tradpub route.

Freelancing has many perks but is not particularly secure. Especially if you're American and need an employer to provide health insurance, or if you're single and don't have another income to lean on when contracts are scarce. These days, most of my work comes via referrals, my website, or the listing I have in the Editors Canada directory. I follow a couple of editing-related Facebook groups; I've learned a lot there, and I've also picked up the occasional client. A couple of people have found me through LinkedIn. A couple of people have found me through here!

I've never worked in-house for a publisher--mostly because having control over how many hours I work and when I work them is my top priority. In-house is a whole different ballgame; I know a bit about it from my peers, but I don't have firsthand experience to pass on. These jobs are supposedly more secure--and they tend to be salaried, with benefits, etc.

"Editing" is a GIANT umbrella term. There are SO many types of editing out there. People tend to think of book publishing first, but that's only one avenue. There are also different kinds of editors who tackle different types of problems. I've done enough of everything to recognize that I am much happier when I'm working on big picture stuff--coaching, developmental editing, manuscript critique. Others specialize in the nitty gritty mechanical details that make proofreading or copy editing a better fit.

Right now, the bulk of my work life is actually spent ghostwriting. The client's business-materials editor posted that his client was looking for someone to help with characterization in a novel. I ended up winning that contract. He came to me with one monster book. I helped him realize it needed to be at least a trilogy, and now he has plans for a ten-book series--and I'm helping write it. But I got the job because of the work I've done on the development side of editing--and because I've spent SO MUCH TIME learning about characterization (via acting, fandom/writing fanfic, reading, etc.). So. It all feeds into the same place.

The tl;dr is that my experience has been a bizarre mix of being in the right place at the right time, ongoing professional development, and learning the value of volunteering with an association. If I were starting down this career path right now, I'd probably do an editing certificate (there are many out there, depending on country). I'd definitely join an association sooner (even as a student member) and volunteer.

Actually, the ultimate tl;dr is ... this industry IS CONFUSING. So, don't feel bad about being confused. It's actually probably about eight different kinds of job wearing a trench-coat and pretending it's something called "Editing."

[fvckmehardcr]

CURRENT DRAFT COUNT: 2

hello!   my   name   is   posey.   i’m   29,  she/her,   semi  selective, multi-muse, multi-ship,  new   to   the   indie   world   and   just   in   the   mood   to   write   some   steamy   threads.   i   have   no   rules   at   the   moment,   open   to   taboo. 

PREFER BETA EDITOR POSTS. but can switch to legacy.

this blog has sporadic activity...just because my personal mental health is unpredictable. so there might be periods of time where i go quiet and other periods of time where i’m fast and whipping out replies. 

my muses tend to be a bit more submissive. 

WARNING: this blog contains mature and taboo themes. please do not interact unless YOU the writer are 21+. 

** i will not write with you if you don’t use small text and cut your posts. i prefer gifs with replies but if you want to use icons, i’m not against it!

OPEN STARTERS  |   WANTED OPPOSITES  |    WANTED PLOTS | MUSES

I WILL NOT WRITE AGAINST: tom holland, noah centineo, chris evans

here   are   some   of   the   faces   i   play…let   me   know   if   you’d   like   me   to   reply   to   your   starter   with   any   of   them.

sydney sweeney camila mendes alexandra daddario dove cameron nina dobrev lili reinhart jessica alexander ana de armas madelyn cline cindy kimberly adria arjona natalia dyer maia mitchell josefine frida pettersen daisy ridley jane levy jenna coleman emmy rossum phoebe tonkin kristine froseth bahar sahin holland roden nicola peltz elizabeth olsen joshua bassett timothee chalamet aaron taylor johnson chace crawford ben whishaw andrew garfield herman tommeraas lorenzo zurzolo

[venombloom]

This is an Indie RP blog for Rook from Dragon Age: The Veilguard. This portrayal could be considered canon divergent in some ways. This blog will contain themes such as body horror, violence, gore, abuse and other darker themes. No smut however will be present. I will only interact with those that are at minimum 18+ but prefer 21+.

BETA EDITOR ONLY; SIDEBLOG; MAINLY MOBILE BOUND, DASH ONLY AND MOSTLY ICONLESS. Low to Sporadic Activity.

Mun: Yunie || She/Her || 29

PERSONAL/NON-RP BLOGS PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG MY HEADCANONS, THREADS, PROMOS OR ANYTHING THAT IS SPECIFICALLY RELATED TO RP.

I have finished Veilguard and will tag spoilers for the next couple of months.

Main blog: @faerie--macabre

Slaying with: @mocksfate ☆ @witchsabre

Rules Bio Headcanons Verses Memes World State Contracts

[onewingedsparrow]

4, 6, and 7!

For this ask game @nocturnalfandomartist Hi Nocturne! Thank you for the ask! :D This is very long, hopefully you don't mind :) 4. Do you have beta? How important is it to the process? As a general rule: no. I have a naturally sharp eye for grammar, spelling, and cohesion. I prefer going through my writing myself with a fine-toothed comb, because beta reading my own fics helps me notice what I need to improve at a rate faster than someone else could point it out. Reading my writing aloud is something I also enjoy doing that helps me keep dialogue smooth, my syllables flowing, and my pacing watertight. In addition, because so many of my works are interconnected in an intricate spiral galaxy of depth and parallels and foreshadows and flashbacks and LORE, it's impossible for a beta reader to fully grasp all that I am intending to convey in any single story without reading...literally everything everywhere all at once which I am writing. No oneshot of mine is truly a oneshot. :) However, I don't discount the benefits of beta reading! Editor feedback is valuable for pointing out subconscious habits of mine and improvements to my flow that I can make. It also is valuable in reinforcing my writing voice; I have learned very quickly what sentence structures I am not willing to compromise on, lol. I use what I learn from other endeavors to enhance my fandom writing. I also make an effort to continue reading published books, articles, screenplays, etc. in addition to posted fanfiction. While fanfiction is in no way "inferior" to published work, there is much to learn from published work that has passed through gateways of editing that fanfiction slips by. In other words, just because my fics are deliberately not beta read doesn't mean that I aim to let my writing stay stagnant. I am still learning and will always be learning. Only a few of my fics will be jestingly tagged as "No beta we die like X"—typically older ones from my "Throwback Archive" that I don't care about cleaning up. They're the equivalent of rough sketches, so they don't need to be anywhere near my usual standards for posting. For my giant Fire Emblem fic*, however, I'm worldbuilding with someone in particular. Once I complete a few drafts of the entire massive story, I will have him alone beta read that, in order to get his feedback on keeping the giant cast all in-character, keeping the route-crossing satisfactory, etc. *This is not posted yet and will not be for a while. It's my fanfic magnum opus. It will be hundreds of thousands of words and multiple books long. And, since I am a plantser, I can't share portions of it because it is all written and drafted out-of-order. I can't wait to drop the entire story on AO3 someday. That will be a glorious day.

6. Post links to your 3 fav fics: Well, all my proper "favorites" are the giant ones that haven't been posted yet. (The Three Houses one, Under My Wings, and the secret sparkling project.) My posted "favorites" differ day by day, depending on what mood I'm in. "To Bee a Leader" is ever dear to my heart. But, at present, I am partial to "Where Sorrow Rings" (FE Engage, during-canon angst) "Reigniting" (TLoZ Ocarina of Time during-canon drabble) "もう少しだけ"　(Death Note during-canon drabble)

7. How do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences? I am invested in what is called "third-person deep POV." I love getting into the head, heart and soul (or, as Transformers would call all three together, the spark) of characters and wresting out their deepest thoughts, feelings, and very being. Line by line, droplet by droplet, I fish it out out of their darkened depths. So, yes, I feel what the characters feel. If I don't feel what the characters feel as I write, then my readers won't either as they read. That is one of my goals in writing characters within third-person deep POV: to make the readers feel what the characters are. Obviously, I can't 1:1 relate to everything my characters go through. Moreover, I hope I don't, since some of them go through some pretty nasty messes I wouldn't wish on anyone. 😂 But, I will thoroughly analyze my characters' perspectives from their shoes and see if anything across my personal experiences can be either directly or distantly relatable to that, and begin composing from there.