#and I am thankful they do leave kudos and enjoy my content

[morathicain]

Okay hey, I may be grumpy and a bit whiny but really. There are new people going through all my 3wbf fics which IS an honour and I’m happy they apparently like them and enjoy them and hell, it’s my favourite fandom to write for for 4 years now and I’m always happy when new people join. But ... there’s not a single comment by them. Not ONE! And like, that’s 43 fics right now, over 200k of words and not one “hey I like this”? Nothing? I don’t expect much, but I’ve poured my damned soul into writing those and yes, I would have written them purely for myself as well (the fandom is small, let’s be honest, I don’t expect much) but is it really too much to ask for at least one comment? When you go through 43 fics by the same person, apparently enjoying their content?

Thanks for the kudos but yes, please consider leaving “something” in the comments, no matter how basic it may seem, it will really make my day <3

@everyone who does leave comments already, thank you and I love you!

[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the piggyback

“It’s always been you,” Steve whispers, lips pressed above your brow. “The six kids. The family I’ve always wanted. Traveling the countryside. My dream, it’s always had you in it.” You laugh, breathless and in love. “I know, honey.” Sickly sweet warmth cascades through you. Your lips find Steve’s, you kiss the smile off his face. He lets you. “I’ve always known it was going to be the two of us.”

Summary: operation save hawkins is a go. youre eagle one, steve is currently doing that, eddie is youd be lying if you said you havent thought about it, nancy is it happened once in a dream, robin is if you had to pick a girl, and dustin is eagle two. what could possibly go wrong ? spoiler alert: everything. literally everything goes wrong. might as well break a few promises while youre at it. for the plot. but at least its over, right? .... right?

Rating: general, some swearing, violence

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, weapons, blood, death and gore, injuries, lowkey suicidal thoughts

Words: 8.5k (we broke tradition where the last chapter is the longest but tbh this is probs for the best)

Before you swing in: oh my god this is the end. i am. very very emotional rn. this story is my baby and i dont know what im going to do now that its done. i cant even write an in between chapter because we still dont have season 5 content :((( im gonna miss writing this story, and i will absolutely go crazy waiting for season 5 so i can write again. these next few months will be ROUGH but !!!! thank you guys so so so much for reading. all your comments/reblogs/kudos/likes have meant the world to me. im truly the luckiest girl ever :') for now, and for the final time... enjoy !

–

It’s pitch black outside. All around you is darkness. The sun is long gone, its golden warmth no longer present, retreating into the treeline as if afraid of what the night will bring. 

You’re afraid, too.

Everyone stands around Nancy. The group is quiet as you await whatever she has to say. When she turns to face you, her voice is leveled, calm, but her hands shake. 

She’s afraid, too.

“Okay,” Nancy exhales deeply. “I wanna run through it one more time.” She looks at Robin, prompting her to recite everything back. “Phase one?”

“We meet Erica at the playground.” Robin responds. “She’ll signal Max and Lucas when we’re ready.”

“Phase two.”

You step forward. “Max and I will bait Vecna. When he goes after one of us, he’ll go into his trance. If he chooses Max, we’ll go onto phase three together.”

“And…” Nancy swallows, looking away. “And if he chooses you?”

It’s Steve who steps forward this time. He stands tall, brave, but his voice shakes. “Then I’ll stay with her, walkman ready, while you and Robin go on your own.”

You grab his hand, squeezing it. He squeezes back. 

“Speaking of phase three.” Dustin clears his throat, weary eyes never leaving you. “Me and Eddie wil draw the bats away.”

“Carefully,” you look pointedly at your brother. “Right?”

He rolls his eyes at you while Nancy continues speaking. “Okay, phase four.”

“We head into Vecna’s newly bat-free lair and…” Robin holds up a molotov cocktail. The liquid sloshes around. The scent of gasoline still stings your nose from when you helped her pour it into the bottles earlier. “Flambe.” 

“Nobody moves onto the next phase until we’ve all copied. Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what.” Nancy reiterates, looking around the RV. Her eyes linger on you, cautious, almost doubtful. She trusts you. She knows she trusts you. But she also knows your heart and the lengths you’ll go to save others. 

Nancy has always admired your selflessness, but she’s also always seen it as your greatest strength and weakness. A coin, two sides. Now, tonight, she has to hope that you’ll follow the plan. Even if it means leaving Max behind if she’s the one Vecna chooses.

Your eyes harden when you realize what Nancy is thinking. Without saying anything, you nod at her. The jut of your chin tells her that you’ll be fine. That she needs to trust you. 

Eddie’s trailer is only a few yards away, but the walk to it feels like decades. Steve guides and Nancy is close behind him. You stay back, walking beside Dustin. Your shoulders brush. His presence grounds you, reassures you that you will make it through the night. 

Dustin, sensing your fear, reaches for your hand. He extends his warmth to you, silently promising you that he will always be here. There isn’t anything left to say.

Steve opens Eddie’s door, turning the lights on and tossing his backpack to the ground. He eyes the rope that connects the trailer to the Upside Down, getting ready for the part of the plan that you honestly really hate.

“Be careful, please.” You urge him, uncomfortable that he has to be the first one to return to the hell that is the Upside Down. It makes sense, he’s the only one able to climb the rope up, but still. You’ve had shit luck these last few days.

“I’m always careful, angel.” Steve winks at you, rolling his sleeves up. “Here goes nothing.”

He climbs up quickly, years of being an athlete being put to use. Everyone watches anxiously. However, when Steve crosses through the gate and lands with a cheesy flip, you and Robin share a disgusted look. 

“What, does he want us to applaud?” She scoffs.

You shake your head. “Somethings I think he has an imaginary audience in his head.”

“Do you think they ever boo him?” “Not like we do.”

Nancy covers her mouth, muffling her laugh, and Robin snorts. You smile at the two of them, momentarily forgetting what’s to come.

“Alright,” Steve shouts up, tossing down Eddie’s old mattress. “Let’s go.”

You take a deep breath, steadying your nerves. Wiping your hands on your jeans, you place them on the rope and prepare for the inevitable torture that this will be. You’re pretty sure you’re bleeding again. 

“A little help?” You ask the others, motioning towards your injured leg and shoulder. “Sorta out of commission.”

Eddie grips your waist while Robin and Nancy gently hike your legs up. Together the three of them are able to carry you almost all the way up. Breathing through your nose, you grit your teeth and climb the rest of the way, wincing every few seconds. The pain is unbearable.

You really hope you don’t sound as pathetic as you look.

When you land on the mattress, small, black dots litter your vision. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Steve is already bending down, helping you up with ease. “And ruin Munson’s tidy home?”

Woozy from pain, you bat Steve away and wait for the others to join. Nancy comes next, then Robin, then Eddie and Dustin. Weapons get tossed down. Bodies land on the mattress with finalizing thuds. 

Outside, it’s just as cold as you remember it. Eddie and Dustin stay in front of the trailer. This is as far as they’re going. They aren’t leaving.

Roughly you pull at your brother. His body lands against yours, but the kiss your press to his forehead is gentle. You haven’t done this since he was a kid. Dustin flings his arms around you, nearly knocking all the air from your lungs. He squeezes you tight, as terrified as you are, and you feel tears in your eyes.

“We’ll come home,” your whisper is hoarse, rough and desperate. You bury your face in his mess of curls and kiss his head again. “The house won’t be empty.”

Dustin sniffles, too weak to hide his tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Your throat burns. How can you possibly leave him? 

Vision blurry with tears, Eddie manages to catch your attention as you cling onto your brother. The teen nods, lifting his pinky in the air to wave it at you, reminding you of his promise to you. He’ll protect Dustin. He swore it.

Reluctantly, you pull away from Dustin and wipe your face. “Please don’t die. Who knows what Mews’ ghost would do to you?” Dustin laughs wetly, wiping his own face as well. The thought of your childhood cat haunting his grave is enough to lessen the sting of letting you go. 

“If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort.” Steve breaks the remorseful silence. He doesn’t want anyone getting hurt. He doesn’t want you losing anyone else. “Draw the attention of the bats, keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna. Don’t try to be a hero or anything.”

His tone is harsh, but you know Steve means well. You also don’t want Dustin and Eddie anywhere near danger. As long as they stick to the plan, they’ll be fine. They have the quickest escape route and the most amount of protection.

“What Steve is trying to say is that you two better climb back through the gate the moment anything bad happens.” You look at the two boys. They stare at you, grim faced. “I mean it, okay? Go through the gate, don’t try anything else.”

“We’re the decoys, we get it.” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. You and Steve can be the heroes.”

“Look at us,” Eddie nudges your brother’s shoulder. “We’re not heroes.”

Your stomach twists. You hate how Dustin views his and Eddie’s position. They aren’t just decoys, they’re heroes in your eyes. They’re facing an army of bats all on their own, but you don’t dare say this out loud, afraid to encourage them. 

“Just…” your mouth is dry. “Just be safe, alright?”

“We will.” Eddie swallows. Then he pauses, his gaze darkens slightly. Looking back at you, he breathes out, “And make him pay.”

You and Steve look at each other. So much of Eddie’s life has been ruined by Vecna. Even if you all make it out of here alive, killing Vecna, there’s no guarantee that Hawkins will accept him back into the town. You understand the anger that resides within Eddie. The desire to kill the very thing that has destroyed everything he loves. 

You bite your lip. You’ve never made a promise you haven’t been able to keep. But this time you’re facing something bigger than anything you could’ve ever imagined. All this time you’ve tried convincing yourself that you’ll win. That everything will work out.

But you remember last summer. 

The mall. The fire and the deaths. Hopper. Billy. The power Vecna seems to hold, his claws that have sunk into you and Max. His threat to Nancy. The danger that Hawkins is in, up above where your mother sleeps peacefully. Unaware of what you’re sacrificing for her.

This is more than anything you’ve ever dealt with before. But a promise built on an unsteady foundation is all you can give Eddie. 

“Well will,” you echo his earlier promise.

Eddie smiles at you. The one you’ve grown to like, even find charming. Slanted and mischievous. The glint in his eyes never dimmed, even after everything. Through it all, he remained kind.

This is how you’ll always remember him.

�� 

The further you walk away from Eddie and Dustin, the harder you have to force yourself to keep going. Your body is heavy, the weight slowing you down, pleading with you to go back. None of this feels right.

Steve’s hand on the small of your back is the only thing keeping your heart from collapsing. Robin’s smile helps, too. 

“You’d think this place gets less creepy the second time around.” She says, stepping over a root. “But I’m still pretty damn creeped out.”

“It isn’t the most pleasant place.” You agree. 

Robin steps over another root, looking back at you as she does so. “At least I’m here to protect you, Y/N. Pretty brave, don’t you think?” “Hey,” Steve warns. “Watch it.”

You knock your shoulder against his and smile apologetically at Robin. “Like always, I think you’re the bravest.”

She smiles proudly, throwing her fist in the air in excitement. However, after stepping over a root for what feels like the tenth time, her heart starts to pound. Looking around, all the trees suddenly look the same. Have you been here before?

“Not to alarm anyone, but I swear we’ve seen this tree before.”

“That’s impossible.” Nancy dimisses.

You agree. “We’re in the woods. All we’re going to see are trees.”

Robin tries to calm herself down, but ultimately fails. There are so many components to the plan, so many ways it can go wrong. “I mean, that would suck, right? Veca destroys the world because we got lost in the woods.”

“We aren’t lost–” You try to reason with her, but Robin is already running away in a panic. You scream at her, terrified of losing her. “Robin!”

“I’ll be back!”

You start to stumble after her. “Why does everyone want to separate?” You huff out, nearly tripping. “There’s safety in numbers! Come back!”

Nancy, seeing your fear for your friend and horrible coordination skills, steps in front of you. “I’ll go after her. You stay here with Steve.”

And then she’s gone, disappearing into the mass of branches alongside Robin. 

“They’ll be fine,” Steve reassures you, grabbing your hand. “They’re tough, even if Robin may lose her mind sometimes when she’s distressed.”

“I think we’re all slowly losing our minds.” You laugh, bitter.

Steve tightens his hand around yours. The two of you walk in silence for a while. The thunder above you serves as a reminder of where you are. The darkness is a threat. But you’re here, together. That’s all that Steve cares about in the end.

“Did you really mean what you said? Back at the cemetery?” He asks, clearing his throat in unease. The question has been on his mind ever since he heard your pleas for Vecna to take you instead of Max. 

He thinks of how adamant you’ve been to protect her. How you’re only here with him right now because Max wouldn’t let you blindly walk towards your death. 

The question strikes deep guilt within you, yet an exhaustion follows. You’re ashamed of how desperately you pleaded to die. Steve and Dustin had to hear you beg for your death. Lucas, too. 

You’re ashamed. Yet you wouldn’t take it back.

“I did.” You finally say. “I wanted him to take me.”

Steve already knew you’d say this. He’d been expecting anger to follow, to be furious with you for sacrificing yourself knowing he’d be left to pick up the pieces. 

But seeing the way you set your jaw and stare ahead, seeing the resolve that masks your face, the acceptance of your decisions, Steve can’t bring himself to be angry. Not at you. 

This is who you are.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Steve promises you again. He will always promise this to you. Over and over again, he will die saying these words to you. “I-I can’t lose you. I refuse to lose you.”

Your eyes remain downcast. 

“I know that this is how you love,” he grabs your jacket, begging you to look at him. “I know that I can’t let you lose the ones you love. Dustin, Max, Robin, Lucas, or El or Mike or Nancy. Hell, even Jonathan. I won’t let you lose them, but I won’t lose you, either.”

He understands, then. The selflessness within you and its selfish ways. Yet he doesn’t shy away or hiss at its venom. Steve opens his hands and allows the selfishness to stay there, warming it with his skin. 

You kiss him. Surprising both him and you, yet you melt together. Steve circles his arms around your waist, pulls you flush against him, and in the cynicism that surrounds you, there is still love. 

“Thank you,” you breathe against his lips. He’s wonderful. He loves you wholly, without any faults. Your kindness and its destructive ways; he accepts it all. “Thank you for understanding.”

And this, you believe, is the most selfless act a person can do. Steve’s understanding of why you need to do this, to sacrifice your life for Max’s, even if it means he risks losing you. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” Steve kisses you again, softer this time. Slower. 

You pull back, confused. “Why?” He pulls you in again. “I mean, I don’t know if you know this, but I was a pretty huge asshole back then.” You laugh softly, and Steve knows he’s exactly where he’s meant to be. “You saw this good in me that I didn’t know existed. Right off the bat you saw through me, expecting more from me than anyone else ever did. I wouldn’t be who I am now without you. ”

“Steve…”

“And I’m sorry for thinking you didn’t see a future with me.” He continues, unable to stop now. This is everything he’s wanted to tell you ever since you allowed him into your life. “I know it’s stupid now, apologizing for our fight a week ago after the hell we’ve been through since then, but…”

He can’t believe he almost let something as small as a misalignment of where you’ll be a year from now jeopardize what you have. There is a string that attaches Steve to you, it brought you to him and tied your heart to his. 

“I meant what I said, Y/N.” Steve’s forehead presses against yours. “I’d wait forever if it means I can have forever with you.”

His eyes shine down at you, brown and warm. The honey you fell in love with when he pretended not to know your name, all to get you to laugh. 

“When your head went under the water, that night at Lover’s Lake, I thought you were dead.” Your voice shakes, remembering the fear that choked you. “For those thirty seconds, I thought you were dead, and it almost killed me.”

It was then that you realized how truly you can’t lose Steve. You’ve always known this, but to have his soul ripped from yours so suddenly, so permanently, there are no words to express the agony that poisoned you. 

Losing him would be the one thing you’d never recover from.  

“I don’t ever want to live through those thirty seconds again,” you’re crying. Steve is, too. He wipes a tear that falls, strokes your cheek, and you can’t bear the thought of a world without his touch. “I want forever with you, too. We’ll figure it out, but I’m not losing you. You have to be in my life, in whatever capacity. Whether you’re in a small, cramped apartment with me in New York or in Hawkins, waiting for me to come home.”

Your breath hitches. To think that a childish argument almost separated him from you. 

“As long as we come home to one another, it doesn’t matter.” 

Steve is quiet after you’ve said all this, and for a moment you’re scared you’ve said too much. Revealed too much of yourself, convinced him he’s gotten it all wrong, but then he cradles your face. His hands are soft, tender, the weight of them familiar against your skin. 

He kisses your forehead, and you exhale the last of your uncertainty. All that is left within your lungs is love. 

“It’s always been you,” Steve whispers, lips pressed above your brow. “The six kids. The family I’ve always wanted. Traveling the countryside. My dream, it’s always had you in it.”

You laugh, breathless and in love. “I know, honey.” Sickly sweet warmth cascades through you. Your lips find Steve’s, you kiss the smile off his face. He lets you. “I’ve always known it was going to be the two of us.”

Steve smiles, wide and bashful, and you know that this is where you’re meant to be, too.

“Hey, guys!” Robin breaks through the treeline, running back with Nancy right behind her. “Awesome news!”

“We aren’t lost.” Nancy cuts to the chase. “We think the Creel house is up ahead.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” You step out of Steve’s arms, though your hand remains intertwined with his. “Let’s go face imminent doom.”

Nancy huffs out a laugh and Robin winces, though Steve squeezes your hand and is the first one to start walking. Together, the five of you descend deeper into the woods.

Unsurprisingly, the Creel house is even more terrifying in the Upside Down. Bats surround it, their screeches stinging your ears. Lightning flashes a deep, blood red and the thunder that follows causes your heart to drop.

You stand at the crest of the hill. There’s a light below you, its glow pure in the abandoned park where it resides. The same park that you told Erica to hide in as she waited for Max and Lucas to take their place. The light flashes.

It’s time for phase two.

– 

“Max is moving into phase two: distracting Vecna. Y/N, get ready.” Erica’s voice carries into the Upside Down.

Nancy, Robin, and Steve all turn to you. Grief and longing taint their faces. Your walkman hangs from Steve’s hand. He grips it tightly. Tension coats the air, nearly suffocating you; you can’t run anymore. 

No one says anything as you carefully lower yourself to the ground. It’s cold beneath you. Hard, unforgiving. You cross your legs, ignoring the deep ache of your wounds as you do so. You close your eyes. The storm is coming. 

“Take the bait, you son of a bitch.” You hear Nancy whisper. 

You or Max.

Take me, you silently beg. Take. Me. 

Silence settles over the group. Everyone waits with bated breath. No one knows who Vecna will choose. 

Steve stands nervously behind you, his hand on your walkman at all times. 

Just take me. Kill me instead of her. If you’ve watched me for so long, then just get it over with. Don’t make this easy, don’t be such a fucking coward.

The words echo in your head. Taunting Vecna, hoping their malice will be what saves Max. That he’ll choose you in the end, give you what you want. You’ll do whatever, say whatever you need, if it means Max will come home. 

Something pricks your skin. An uncomfortable, electric sensation coats your entire body. 

Vecna. 

For a moment you think he’s listened. You can feel his presence, the weight of him shadows in your mind. He’s here, he’s spared you mercy after prolonged cruelty. He’s chosen you and Max will survive. Her blue eyes will remain bright, her body alive.

Then it all comes crashing down.

“He chose Max. I repeat, he chose Max.” Erica says, voice cutting through the delusions you allowed yourself to get lost in.

Your ears are ringing. Somewhere in your body there is still oxygen that has not escaped you, but you cannot find it. He chose her. 

Robin radios Dustin and Eddie, you think she’s instructing them to move onto phase three, but her words are jumbled in your mind and you can’t hear anything besides the screaming in your head. 

He chose her.

“Y/N,” someone roughly grabs your shoulder. “Y/N, look at me.”

Nancy. She’s in front of you, kneeled down. She grabs your arms, her grip vicious. Her mouth moves. She’s saying something, the way her chest heaves makes you think she’s yelling.

Is she yelling at you?

“Y/N!” The ringing doesn’t subside, but you manage to look at Nancy. “We need to go!”

She’s right. You need to leave. There isn’t time to remember how to breathe. You know this. Somewhere in the distance there’s music. Guitar rifts through the wind, Eddie’s melody enrages the bats that swarm the Creel house. They’re gone in seconds, flying towards the sound, and you need to stick to the plan. 

Your head moves shakily, managing a small nod, and Nancy yanks you up with Steve’s help. She looks at Robin, and suddenly her and Steve grab your arms and force you to walk alongside Nancy. They aren’t aggressive as they do so, nor are they cruel. But you can’t afford to shut down. Not now.

Max won’t survive if you do. There’s no time to hesitate. No turning back.

You hope she finds the light.

Lightning flashes all around you, illuminating the Creel house as you stand before it. Steve opens the door first. The vines that cover the ground writhe at the disturbance. He shines his flashlight, his heart drops when he realizes just how infested the house is.

“Shit,” he breathes out. The floor is virtually impossible to walk across. “That’s not good.”

Then, because he has no other option, Steve starts jumping to any safe spot he can land on. He looks ridiculous as he does so, but for once you aren’t focused on that. Instead, you stare down at your injured leg and wince.

“Great,” your thigh is currently more blood than flesh. Jumping on it is quite literally the last thing you should be doing. “This is gonna hurt.”

“At least you have good balance?” Robin offers, though she doesn’t believe what she’s saying either. 

Nancy grabs your hand, then Robin’s. She looks at the two of you and smiles, trying her best to look reassuring. “It’s okay. You guys got this.”

The first jump hurts, setting the remaining nerves in your upper thigh on fire, but you can’t afford to scream or collapse. You have to remind yourself that the vines are interconnected. One wrong step, one miscalculated fall, and they’ll wrap viciously around you. 

It’s a slow, tedious process trying to get to the attic. The stairs are the hardest part. The vines twist with every step, slithering across the walls. Steve does his best to help you, offering you his hand for support, but you both hold your breath every time your foot slips. 

When you make it to the attic door, everyone readies their weapons. In one hand are your knives, in the other a molotov cocktail. Steve spins you around, digging into the backpack for an ax while Nancy grabs her gun. 

Your foot lifts, about to step forward, before the ground beneath you shakes violently. The entire house trembles, and Steve barely has enough time to catch everyone as all of you struggle not to fall. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You sneer, holding desperately onto Steve. This is all some sick, cruel joke. A poorly timed rupture in your rapture.

But then the house stills. Everything is quiet. You, Nancy, Steve, and Robin stare at one another, panting. Nobody moves. There’s a clarity in the air, a false sense of security. 

That’s when the first vine latches onto Robin. 

It folds around her ankle before tearing her away from you. She screams, so do you, and her body is thrown against the wall as more vines encase her limbs. They move fast, snake like, and everything unravels after that. 

“Steve! Y/N!” She screeches, terrified. “Nancy!” 

You’re at her side in a second, stabbing at the vines. Your knuckles are white as you grip your knives, your biceps strain. You aren’t letting them take Robin from you. “Hold on!”

Your teeth grit together in exertion, sawing as fast as you can. Steve and Nancy are on the other side, throwing their axes as hard furiously into the vines. But nothing works, they’re too thick, and you don’t realize that one of the vines has wrapped around your arm until it’s too late.

“Y/N!” Steve screams when your body gets lifted into the air. You try to fight it, to pry your arm away, but your legs give out and soon a second vine wraps around your other arm. Then a third, a fourth and a fifth. 

In seconds you’re pressed against the wall. 

“Steve!” Screams are ripped from your throat, you try to call out, to beg for your life, but the more you move, the tighter the vines constrict.

Steve calls after you, ramming into the wall as he tries to cut you loose. “I got you! I–”

The ax he’s holding gets yanked back by a vine. He’s launched into the air, body landing harshly next to yours several feet up the wall. He screams again, but his voice dies when a vine cuts off his breathing and chokes him.

Another vine coils around your throat and suddenly you can’t breathe. Your airway constricts. Sobbing, you try to reach out to Steve. You’re inches apart, his fingers are so close to yours that you can feel their warmth, but you can’t reach him

All you want to do is hold him. 

Nancy falls to the ground, the last victim. She gets thrown to the opposite wall, it all happens so fast that she doesn’t even have time to scream. 

Your vision blurs. You close your eyes.

This is how you’ll die. 

Far away from your home. No one will find your body down here. Dustin will come looking for you and he’ll face the same fate. He will die trying to find you. Vecna will destroy everything you’ve ever loved.

Your lungs burn, fighting for breath that they cannot get. Blood rushes to your head. You take your last breath. The sound of it echoes in your ears. 

Everything goes black. 

Your mother will be worried about you. 

I’m sorry.

– 

There’s a body beneath yours. 

It groans, gasping for air, but your vision is dark and you can’t see anything. Pain erupts in your wrist. You try to move it, but the sting makes you nauseous. 

There’s coughing all around you, but you’re too weak to suck the air back in. Everyone cowers for breath. The vines rescind, unwrapping themselves from your skin. There’s a body beneath you, and a gentle hand cups your cheek, you know it’s Steve.

“Breathe, angel.” His voice cracks, wounded. It hurts to speak, but he needs you to breathe. “Y/N, you have to breathe.”

Everything is numb. Your lungs are empty; you can’t remember how to fill them. Steve coaxes your lips open, blows air in your face, does whatever he can think of to get you to breathe, before finally, miraculously, you inhale sharply and begin coughing. 

“Are you alright?” Steve asks you softly, rubbing your back as you cough. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

Your throat is raw. It takes everything within you to speak, but you want to. You need to. There’s only one thing you want to say. “We have to make him pay.”

The anger is back, and Steve’s jaw sets. Vecna has hurt you. He’s hurt everyone you love. He’s chosen Max for his final death and your fury threatens to devour the sanity you have left. You’re tired of his shitty mind games.

It’s like what you promised Eddie: you have to make Vecna pay for what he’s done to you all.

“I don’t believe in a higher power,” Robin rasps, breaking you from your thoughts. “Or divine intervention. But that was a miracle.”

Nancy cocks her gun, already walking towards the attic door. “Then we better not waste it.”

“Phase four.” Steve says, steadying himself against you. 

“Flambe.” Robin finishes. 

You flick your knives out. “Let’s finish this.”

– 

Vecna’s body hangs in the attic, thick, gruesome vines attach him to every crevice. He’s unmoving, eyes closed, and seeing his body up close makes you want to gag. He’s a terrible, vile creature. 

But Dustin had been right: Vecna is in the same trance-like state that El goes into when she uses her powers. 

Without being told to, Robin sets down her bag. All the molotov cocktails are inside. Everyone grabs one, silent. Almost as if you’re all too afraid to break the spell he’s under. You only get one shot at this. 

Steve has the lighter. You hold the first cocktail up, and he looks at you, eyes shining. He asks you if you’re ready, if this is what you really want, and you nod. At your signal, Steve throws the cocktail into the air.

The bottle shatters against Vecna’s body. The flames engulf him, the impact of the blast so powerful that it knocks you and everyone else back. There’s an awful scream as Vecna’s vines begin to snap from the sudden heat.

Your screams mix with his, throwing another cocktail with every ounce of strength you have left in you. You’re bruised and bloodied and exhausted, but you think of Max. You think of Billy and Hopper. Eddie and how his life will never be the same again. You think of Chrissy, Patrick and Fred. All the innocent lives that have been lost for a cause that you despise. 

This is for them. For Hawkins. For your home.

The last of the vines die withering away, and Vecna’s body falls to the ground. He stands, body on fire, and stalks towards you. His eyes are only on you. 

Robin lights the final cocktail and the force of it sends Vecna stumbling back. It’s enough to break through his chest, and he’s weak. Weaker than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Shoot him, Nancy!” You cry, ready for this all to end. 

And she does.

The first blast pierces Vecna’s skin. The second, third, and fourth diminish him to ruined pieces. With every shot, Nancy steps forward, drawing him out, and you’re right behind her. Vecna releases a deep, furious roar. The sound of it sinks into your bones, but you no longer fear him. 

He isn’t worth your fear. 

Nancy raises her gun again. She deals the final blow, sending Vecna through the old, rotted wood of the house into the dark night. He falls, screaming, before everything is quiet. 

The roar of the fire that surrounds you is the only sound. You all stand in the attic, numb. None of it feels real. All that’s left of Vecna is a hole in the house, his body far below, sprawled on the concrete outside. 

“Did we…?” You’re afraid to jinx it, to somehow bring him back. But this has to be it. There isn’t any other way for this to end.

Nancy doesn’t say anything. Instead, she turns around, running back down the stairs. No one has to ask why she does this; you all know. There has to be a body. There must be tangible proof that you’ve won.

Everyone runs outside.

Vecna’s body is gone. 

The only indication that he’d been there is an outline of flames that molt the grass below it. But there is no body.

“No,” you run down the steps, kicking through the grass as you look around. You’re frantic, sprawling on the ground as if you’ll find him buried beneath the ash. “No, where is he?”

You killed him. He was on fire. Nancy put more than five bullets in him. He fell from the attic, a height that alone should’ve killed him. Where the fuck is he? You did everything right. Followed every step of the goddamn plan.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Something is wrong, you just don’t know what. Steve and the others join you. They’re quiet, fearing what you’re refusing to even consider. Four deaths. That had been all Vecna needed. But you killed him. “None of this makes sense, unless… Unless he–”

No. 

A bell chimes. 

The sound sends you to the ground. Your knees give out, collapsing under the weight of it all. “No!” Your scream is loud, guttural. Tearing from your chest as it tears out your vocal chords. There’s blood in your mouth and you want it to choke you. 

It’s Max. 

He got her. He killed her. 

All of a sudden there are arms around you. Someone carries you back up the stairs, back into the house that has taken everything from you. Steve holds you to his chest as he, Nancy, and Robin stare at the grandfather clock before them. 

It’s alive.

“Four chimes,” Nancy’s voice can barely be heard above your crying. “Max…”

The realization settles upon all of you. You’re in hysterics, no one can calm you down. You’re crying so hard that you can’t breathe, but you don’t want to breathe anymore. 

Grief pours from you in cruel, bitter waves. All you do is cry, barely even registering the earthquake that follows your devastating loss. 

Steve has to set down your crying figure in order to stabilize Robin and Nancy. You curl into yourself on the ground, making yourself as small as possible. There is too much. It’s all too much. Your head digs into the floor beneath you, cutting you, and your tears mix with the blood. 

Over and over again the clock chimes. Like laughter. His laughter. 

He won. 

Steve holds onto the stairs as the earthquake worsens. He has to crawl over to you; you’re rocking back and forth on the ground, your cries heard even above the cracking of the earth. His hand wraps around your weeping body and he won’t let you go. Steve tries to shield you from fallen debris, the world is falling apart, but you don’t move.

You don’t care anymore. 

It’s always your fault in the end. You lose everyone eventually; you get them killed. You can never save them. You will never be able to save them.

She’s gone. 

Max is gone. 

– 

The days pass. You’ll come to remember them in fragments. 

Returning to Eddie’s trailer and finding Dustin crying over his dead body. Prying him away, your tears mixing with your brother’s when you have to tell him that something has happened to Max.

Finding Hawkins in flames. Seeing the deep gashes in the town you grew up in. Stumbling to the Creel house, racing side by side with the ambulances for everyone within the once quiet town, and collapsing again when you find no one there. 

Going home. Your mother’s arms breaking you. 

Steve. How he never left your side throughout it all. Holding Dustin’s hand, unable to stop crying. 

Visiting Max in the hospital the day after. The stench of sterilizer and surgical tools. Seeing her lifeless body still alive. The countless other bodies in the building that died due to your failure. 

When the news broadcasters announce Hawkins to be cursed. The burden that you can’t tell them that they’re right. The guilt seeing your baby brother’s limp. Another scar he will carry with him forever. 

All the hurt in the town. The pain. 

The collapse of your home; they’re calling it an earthquake. 

It all comes to you in flashes. 

Hawkins high school gets converted into a donation center for everyone dishoused. Visiting it is your idea. You can’t bear the thought of spending any more time inside your home knowing there are hundreds of others who no longer have a place to call home. 

“Anything else?” You place your old comics into one of the boxes you’re donating. 

Dustin shakes his head. “That’s the last of it.”

He hasn’t left your side in days. He still keeps your walkman on him, though neither of you know if it’s important anymore. Dustin is afraid that you’ll never put the headphones on again, even if it could save your life. 

You tape the boxes up, carefully writing down their contents on one of the flaps. Your fingers are scabbed. Your wrist is stiff, locking up if you move it too suddenly. 

Books.

Bedding. 

Clothing.

Anything you can offer, you’d give it all to Hawkins if you could.

Steve picks you up. He helps you put the boxes in the back of his car, gentle with you as always. “You guys ready?”

You nod weakly, and Steve kisses your forehead, careful of the cuts that litter it. He helps you into the car. Turns on your favorite songs. Tries to distract you from the wreckage that encases Hawkins as he drives; you keep your head down. You can’t look at any of it. 

Nancy is waiting in her driveway with Robin, a pile of their own boxes at their feet. They greet you kindly, warmly, with an air of fear that you’ll break, and you’re too tired to pretend. 

“I found some more of your old stuff in the attic,” Mrs. Wheeler walks out of the garage, smiling despite the circumstances. “I think it’s lovely you’re doing this, Y/N.”

“We all just want to help,” you politely respond, staying near Steve’s side. 

Nancy picks up one of the stuffed animals in the box and pouts, seeing her old favorite toy. You’re about to tease her, try to laugh, when a pizza delivery van speeds down the block. 

“Someone order a pizza?” Mrs. Wheeler asks.

“Not that I recall.” You mumble, confused as your eyes follow the car. Every business in Hawkins is shut down right now. It doesn’t make sense for there to be a pizza delivery.

It parks in front of the Wheeler’s, and when you see who steps out, you drop the box you’re holding and run towards them. 

Will and El throw themselves around you, hugging you tightly. Dustin joins, and holding them again, having them here with you, makes everything okay for a moment. Your kids are okay, they’re safe. 

“Are you okay?” El asks you, pulling away slightly. Her eyebrows knit in concern when she notices the cuts on your face and how red your eyes are. “Did he get you?”

Somehow you aren’t surprised that she knows about Vecna. 

“I’m okay, sweetie.” Her hair is buzzed. Already you miss the long strands she once had. You don’t know what she’s been through this last week, but you hope, more than anything, that she hasn’t lost her kindness. “I-I’m okay.”

Your voice catches at the end, and immediately El understands that something else happened.

“We were worried about you,” Will doesn’t let you go. “When El told us what was happening, Jonathan almost lost his mind.”

Jonathan.

Hearing his name makes you remember everything. Instinctively your eyes find him. They always do. Jonathan has Nancy in his arms, but when he senses your eyes on him, he looks up at you. He will always be able to find you. Your heart stops, looking into his once familiar brown eyes.

Jonathan rushes towards you, as he always does, and his arms around you feel like home. 

“Bug,” he breathes against your neck, holding onto you tighter than he ever has before.

You melt when the nickname drips from Jonathan’s lips. It’s been so long since someone has called you that. It’s been even longer since you’ve held Jonathan like this. 

“God, what happened to you?” His eyes roam your body, catching on your bandaged shoulder and thigh. The cuts on your cheek. You try to ease his concern, grabbing his hands, but Jonathan starts to ramble. “We-we tried to get back to Hawkins as soon as we could. The second El told me you were in danger I–”

He inhales shakily, presses his face deeper into your neck. “All I could do to stay sane was think of your voice. Of our last phone call.”

You bury your face into Jonathan’s messy hair. You’re crying, but for what, you don’t know. His scent is bittersweet. His arms are reminiscent of what was once. You’ve missed him, but nothing will ever be the same again.

“I need to see her.” El’s raised voice causes you to let go of Jonathan. She’s standing in front of Dustin, arms crossed, and you know he’s told her the truth. “Take me to Max.”

“What’s wrong with Max?” Mike slings an arm over your shoulders, putting all his body weight against you in greeting. “Miss me, Henderson?”

You move his arm down, forcing him into a hug. You want to remember these next few seconds. The remnants of his childhood before it comes crashing down on him. “I did, Wheeler.”

Mike hugs you back, but when he sees the distress on El’s face, he lets you go and walks towards her. “What? What’s going on?”

Dustin is the one who breaks the news. Shamefully, you know it should’ve been you, but you haven’t been able to say Max’s name in days. There’s too much guilt, remorse, resentment that it hadn’t been you. 

It’s a mess of tears and panic when Dustin tells them. Will covers his mouth, holding back tears, while El storms inside the pizza delivery van as Mike demands that Jonathan take him and everyone else to see Max. They don’t believe any of it. El told them that she saved Max. 

“Are you coming, Y/N?” Jonathan holds his keys up. Everyone else, including Nancy, are already inside. A boy your age, you think his name is Argyle, waves at you from the passenger seat. 

So much has changed. Unable to form the right words, you shake your head at Jonathan. Yet even after months apart, he understands your unspoken words. You can’t see Max again. Not yet. It’s too soon, too much for you to bear.

Seeing her limp body once was enough. 

“We’ll be back,” Jonathan hugs you one last time, pressing a kiss to your hairline as he lets you go. “I promise.”

Steve steps forward then, wrapping an arm around your waist as he stands next to you. The two teens lock eyes, Steve gives Jonathan a cool, steely look. He remembers what you’ve told him. He remembers Jonathan’s words to you before everything collapsed. 

Sensing his anger, you squeeze Steve’s arm. Not here, you beg him. Not now.

Exhaling slowly, Steve offers you his hand. You take it, allowing him to walk you back to his car as the others leave.

– 

The donation center is packed. There are so many people inside, sitting on makeshift cots and pinning missing posters of their loved ones to a bulletin board. Nurses tend to the injured. Mothers cradle their children. The sight makes you ache. All these people, displaced by what they believe to be an earthquake.

You set the boxes down at the main dropoff table, and though the kind employee praises you for how organized the boxes are, you can’t help feeling that you should be doing more. 

In the hundreds of injured and grieving people you’ve seen, you’ve only noticed a handful of workers. 

“Is there any way we can help?” You ask the woman, looking around with a frown.

“Truly anything.” Robin says. “We just… we want to help.”

The woman seems surprised, and you wonder how rare it is for kindness to still be in a town that has known nothing but turmoil these last few years. 

You and Steve get placed sorting clothing while Robin is assigned to the food station. Dustin passes out cups of water for everyone. It isn’t much, but the work is meaningful and it eases the tension in your chest. 

“So…” Steve folds a t-shirt. “Can I ask about Jonathan yet?”

Picking up tattered jeans, you place them in the trash pile. “Might as well.”

“How do we feel about his sudden arrival? I mean, the giant pizza statue on the van was a little dramatic for me.”

He’s trying to keep the conversation light, which you appreciate him for, but you also know that Steve is doing this because he’s worried about you. And, you know, he’s unnerved seeing Jonathan. There’s still a lot left unsaid between you. 

“It’s… a lot.” You admit, struggling to find the right words to convey how you feel. “I’m relieved he’s okay, and I really am happy to see him again, but I… I understand, you know. If you’re upset.”

Steve scrunches his face. “I’m not upset, just… I don’t know. Annoyed with the guy.”

“So you’re upset.”

“Okay, no–”

“Is that Vickie with Robin?” You unintentionally cut Steve off, too surprised by the fact that mere feet away from you is Robin and Vickie making sandwiches together. And they’re laughing. “Are they talking together?”

Steve whips his head around, disbelieving, but lets out a low whistle when he sees Robin making easy conversation with Vickie. “Well I’ll be damned. Who knew our girl had it in her?”

The Jonathan talk lays forgotten as you and Steve admire your friend. You share a secret smile, remembering your own first awkward, bantering conversations together. There is so much pain in this town, and yet you watch as love still blossoms within it.

Across the room, you see Dustin talking to an older man. They’re deep in discussion and you notice your brother’s shaking shoulders. He’s crying. The older man is, too. You narrow your eyes, unsure if you should approach, but when Dustin hands the man Eddie’s old guitar pick, you realize who it is. 

“I’ll be back.” You kiss Steve’s cheek, excusing yourself. 

He tries to ask where you’re going, but you’re already gone. Your brother needs you right now.

Walking over, you stand to the side and allow Dustin and Eddie’s uncle some privacy. While there are so many things you want to say to the man, like how kind his nephew had been, how brilliant his mind was and how you’ll never forget the smile that never left his face, this is for Dustin and Dustin only. 

Eddie was his dearest friend. There is no greater loss than that.

Whatever Mr. Munson tells Dustin will be good for him; it will be the closure you can’t give him yourself. 

An arm wraps around you. You lean into the touch, knowing who it is without even having to look. You rest your head on Steve’s shoulder, exhausted, but content with the warmth he offers you. The two of you keep an eye on Dustin, ready to catch him in case he falls. 

Eventually Mr. Munson leaves, and you take his place next to Dustin. The second you sit down, the boy cries into your shoulder. Tears soak your shirt and your brother’s frail body shakes. “I-I had to tell him that Eddie died a hero.”

“I know,” your head falls against his.

“They’ll never know what he did for this town.” Sobs wrack Dustin’s body. “It isn’t-it isn’t fair.”

You rub his back, brush his hair out of his face. “None of it is fair, Dust.”

He cries even harder and you try to shield him from the world with your body. You try to block out the grief, the bitterness that follows death. How empty it can leave you. An emptiness that can swallow a person whole. 

You won’t let it happen to Dustin. 

“We’re gonna get through this together, alright? You and me, just like it’s always been. I promise–” Your words catch in your throat, tears forming in your own eyes. There’s so much you want to promise your brother, to swear that will come true, but you’re just as hurt and lost as he is. 

“I promise,” you make the words come out. “That everything will be okay. We’ll-we’ll be together, heal and do whatever we can to make everything okay. I-I’ll never leave you, you hear me? I won’t leave you again.”

Though Dustin still cries, his breathing slows. 

“Together. We’ll face this together.” As you talk, you notice a crowd of people swarming by the windows. They’re looking at something, staring and gasping. Your voice grows weak, anxious that something bad is about to happen. “It’ll… it’ll all work out.”

Dustin notices the crowd, too. He looks to you for answers, but you’re silent. You don’t know what’s happening. There’s a murmur in the crowd, hushed, urgent. It sets your skin on edge. Even more people get up now, some are even running outside, and every nerve in your body is screaming at you to run. 

Suddenly the room darkens, as if a giant cloud has covered the sky. Your stomach twists, and you get up, following after the crowd. Bodies shove each other, people blindly walk through the haze of whispers and uncertainty. 

When you step outside, all you see is ash.

The ash falls like snowflakes, beautiful and pure. There’s a softness to it, something delicate in the ruin it leaves. Dustin knocks against you, staring up into the sky with the same dread that you feel. The crowd is murmuring with glee, whispering excitedly about what they believe to be snow; but they’re wrong.

You’ve always won in the end. 

You’ve come to believe this to be a fact. You once told Steve that you believed you used up all your luck. Saving Will, closing the gate over and over again. The penance was the deaths from this summer for the greedy way you abused luck.

Steve had reminded you that there was still good leftover in the bad. That there will always be softness in the destruction, a reason for hope. That you will always find a way out, that luck and love were two sides of the same coin.

You’ve always won in the end. 

Yet, lost in the swarm of people, you watch as the sky begins to fall and Hawkins descends into the Upside Down. 

You no longer believe it.

[END OF SEASON FOUR]

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[f1fnatic]

BUT I THOUGHT SHE WAS UNFAITHFUL? ⤿ d. ricciardo 3

→ ( in which. . . ) you star in a movie as the lead actress. in said movie, you date your co-star. the fans of your boyfriend don't like the idea, so they spread rumors in response to you and your co-stars friendship. but, little do they know, it's not you they should be worried about.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) social media au

→ ( face claim. . . ) sydney sweeney

→ ( pairing. . . ) daniel ricciardo x actress!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) rumors of cheating, eventual cheating, cyber bullying, language, toxic fans

→ ( author's note. . . ) this was sitting in my drafts for so very long and i just finished it in class, i am so happy i am able to post something after such a long hiatus. I hope you enjoy! see end for more

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/nnnn

liked by glenpowell, danielricciardo, alexademie, lewishamilton and 3,126,731 others

tagged: glenpowell, sonypictures, and anyonebutyoumovie

happy to announce that anyone but you in theaters NOW! go watch it >:)

view 865,729 comments

y/nlover ugh cannot wait to watch!

alexademie pretty pretty girl

y/nnnn all you lexie :(

danielricciardo so unbelievably proud of you roo ❤️

y/nnnn thank you badger ☹️

glenpowell such an honor to work with you!

y/nnnn i can say the same!

y/nhater don't you think that her and glen are too close to be co-stars?

y/nhater2 i'm thinking the same thing there's no way she didn't cheat

y/nfan wtf are u talking ab? y/n would NOT do that to danny they are happy together

lewishamilton free tickets 👀

landonorris 👀

maxverstappen1 👀

charles_leclerc 👀

y/nnnn sonypictures what do you think?

sonypictures I'm sure we can work something out.

danielricciardo

liked by y/nnnn, glenpowell, landonorris, scottyjames31, and 3,421,874 others

tagged: y/nnnn

words cannot express how proud i am of you, my love. you have poured so much blood, sweat, and tears into this movie. i know it has been hard, especially the long shoot hours, the frantic facetimes in between scenes can vouch for that and so can the texts. i will definitely miss the on-set pictures/updates.

i love you so much y/n. i don't know how i could be any prouder. p.s. i better get a private showing if you know what i mean 😉

view 831,341 comments

landonorris gross there are children on this app

hunterschafer cutie pies

zendaya is that blond single?

danielricciardo not atm no get in line

y/nnnn danny be nice.

danielricciardo sry love 🫡

y/nfan LMAO

georgerussell63 get a room 🤮

drlover she is such a slut

alexademie actual goals

y/nnnn awe danny i love you too

y/nnnn definitely NOT crying right now!!!

lewishamilton she is lying she facetimed me SOBBING

y/nnn i called you in CONFIDENCE. CONFIDENCE LEWIS.

y/nnnn you are the sweetest, most supportive person i have ever met. i could not have gotten through this without you ❤

danielricciardo there is no one else i rather support ❤

y/ndanny they are meant for each other

y/nhater what a fucking whore

y/ndanny2 the best couple

─ TWITTER ↴

─ IMESSAGE ↴

─ TWITTER ↴

imessage ↴

—————————————————————

Unknown Contact i stole ur mans 😜

—————————————————————

lexieee 😚 i am so so sorry my love, he didnt deserve you ❤️

—————————————————————

Lando Norris He treated you like shit anyways

—————————————————————

alrighty, finished! thank you so much for reading, so sorry for the radio silence, ive been super unmotivated and consumed with school 💔 anyways, requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

[pfhwrittes]

Heeeeyyyyy p. I am an awkward soul with an awkward question, but how does ao3 work? I noticed a lot of writers are speaking of migrating there and doing things that I don’t quite understand LMAO. I tried looking into the website but honestly, it seems so daunting and I am a terrified chicken who would rather recede into the pits of hell than do something “wrong” on that website.

I dunno if you are the right person to request of this, but you are always so kind when answering questions so i figured who else is better than to scream into the void at?

Pls disregard if you aren’t interested in answering/don’t feel like it!

Have a great day/night/evening/tea time 😽

hi anon! don't feel bad for reaching out, one of my favourite things in the world is showing people how to do things (you know that chill coworker who goes "okay, so i do it like this..." when they show you things? that's who i want to be in the world). if my handy guide doesn't make sense to you, please please please feel free to come back and ask clarifying questions and i'll wrack my brain on how best to help you!

i'd be remiss if i didn't point you in the direction of AO3's guide on how to search and browse the archive first of all. it's a bit wordy so if that isn't to your liking i've made a little video below the cut on how to use ao3 on a laptop below the cut:

Warnings for potential flickering, scrolling motions and flashing.

[ID: A 3 minute video with no audio showing a basic guide on how to use AO3. /END ID]

so that's a pretty bare bones way of using ao3 as non-member!

step 1: search for the fandom you want to explore.

step 2: use the drop down menu to tailor your fanwork selection to something you might want to read by using the filters on the right hand side.

tags are the ingredient list of what you can expect to find in a fic, you can also search by using the tags if there's something in particular you've taken a fancy to (or you can use the "exclude" button to avoid seeing it - just like i excluded konig from my selections).

the rating system is used to filter out mature content, if you click on something rated M, E or Not Rated you should get a little warning at the top advising you that the work you're about to view may include adult content and you agree that you wish to see that content.

step 3: check the tags and summary to see what piques your interest (in my case i chose @boolger 's "a love letter to gaz" because i thought it was fitting).

step 4: click on your desired fic or fanwork and enjoy!

step 5: leave a kudos AND a comment (it doesn't have to be lengthy, it can be a little note to say "i loved this! thank you for writing it!) when you're done.

i recommend asking for an invite to join ao3 so you can see all the lovely archive locked fanworks (fanworks that are hidden from non-members) like mine! it doesn't take long to get an invitation and you can still browse the archive as a non-member in the meantime.

anyway, i hope this helped just a little bit for you anon.

[chronically-ghosted]

i totally agree that it’s ridiculous for people to write fics for films that haven’t been released yet, but the problem isn’t the smut itself. people have every right to write porn if that scratches the itch.

i think your main point is the most important: it’s impossible to write a thoughtful, inspired fic when we don’t even know the story it’s based on. no one knows who this character is or what he’s like.

at this point, everyone should just call a spade a spade and write pedro rpf. all they care about is seeing his face in different situations.

so my earlier post was not so much a statement on Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction/porn, but the commercialization of art and I interpreted the thoughts and opinions of others through the lens of the medium I most often express myself with, which is fanfiction.

let me be clear: i have no problem with smut - pwp or otherwise. people are allowed to write whatever they want, about whoever they want, with whatever tropes make them happy.

my overall focus (and granted it was probably very muddled by the end of those - what, like three reblogs?) was an interrogation of fanfiction as art, and the state of art in this modern era. and after doing some more thinking and listening to more people much smarter than me (thank you to everyone who dm-ed me directly to talk further about this), my opinion is thus: the creation of content (not art) is more ubiquitous today is not because we are getting more stupid as a society, not because of our failing attention spans, not because we are on the brink of moral collapse but because we physically do not have the mental strength to be intellectually curious as a direct result of constant, distracting, emotionally-draining stimuli.

i can explain what i mean below the cut with two primary examples, specifically regarding the shift in fanfiction cult, and yes, the prominence of smutty oneshots in the pedro pascal character fandom of which this blog is a part of.

I have been in various fandoms for almost twenty years. I have been writing fanfiction for almost that same amount of time. In recent years, I've noticed two trends that initially discouraged me, but that I now believe is a symptom of our adjustment to a modern, constantly online era.

A severe lack of engagement within the artistic artifacts of a fandom

The quality of the fanfiction itself (because yes I do consider fanfiction to be an artform) has gone down hill - mostly.

Lack of engagement:

Art is inherently created to be shared. This is especially true for fandom because the community lives or dies by how many people are interacting with each other and sharing ideas (news, theories, fanart, fanfic, etc). If you say a fandom is dead, it means there haven't been any new posts or fic about it in years. So I don't wanna hear it when people say, "oh write for yourself, you shouldn't be chasing engagement" because that is antithetical to the very concept of fanfiction.

In recent years, I have seen and experienced myself engagement in my work only so far as a like or kudo. This is not how it used to be. Message boards (yes I am that old) and niche fandom sites were constantly abuzz with media sharing and excitement, and everyone enjoyed some version of praise (unless you got hit by the antis but they're never fun anyway). Initially I blamed this drop in engagement on laziness: people just want the next thing, they can't be bothered to appreciate the hard work writers put in and they just see content and art as the same thing - stuff to consume.

But I myself am GUILTY of minimal reblogs and comments and I LOVE what I'm writing - the impact certain works leave me with is long, long lasting but for some goddamn reason, I can't sit down and praise the author's works. Am I lazy? Possibly, but this is also not an isolated behavior and it's on the rise: people do not have time to engage with fandom/fanfic like they used to. Most people I know have worked at least two or three jobs at some point in their lives to just to make rent. This gen z is the first generation in DECADES to be worse off economically than their parents. With an interest rate at 8%, who the fuck can afford the security of a home anymore? We work ourselves to the bone for scraps and the realization that The Dream has officially died. And so what do we want to do in the free time we do have? Engage with the very bare minimum. We want to read things that we can at best skim, things we don't have to think about or engage with in any meaningful way. We want a way to turn off the noise of the next apocalypse and sometimes the best we can do is the tap of a thumb.

Which brings me to my next point: what the fuck happened to thoughtful fanfiction?

But this question is inextricably linked to the points above: oneshots are easier to write, faster to write, and if you write fic that is basically "Mad libs porn" (without ever engaging in the actual medium because it is literally not released yet), you are doing the most minimal work for the most amount of engagement. But I can't fault ANYONE for doing that. It feels good to be told your smut is "so hot" or "this exploded my panties" and in this era where the time available to create is so fucking small and minimized of course you're going to write for the most popular character, whether or not you're interested in the source material because we want our art to matter to someone. Intellectual pundits loooove to lambast our "shorter attention spans" but fuck, when are we allowed the time to think - in between this "100 year storm" that's happened twice in the past five years, or the global pandemic that turned millions of deaths into a political punching bag, or the next video of a white woman crying wolf to the police over an innocent black man, or - or - or - or

In a day where reality and the world as we know seems to be holding onto a thread, we turn to comfort: comforting tropes (dbf to rape/kidnap fantasies), comforting fanfic (pwp), and comforting ways to engage with fandom. There is nothing wrong with wanting your art to be appreciated and there's nothing wrong with inherently wrong with pwp - but I do believe its symptomatic of a MUCH larger and more sinister movement within ALL art right now.

I come from the generation who banished fanfic authors for scrubbing off the filing numbers to their fics and publishing it as original content because, in our communities, they were selling out. Fanfiction is inherently an act of rebellion. Every time you write fanfiction you break canon, an established structure with its own rules and boundaries. So by trying to appeal to the masses, to curb your own writing to fit whatever is mainstream, you are doing a disservice to yourself AND to the art of fanfiction. If something you write becomes popular, wonderful, great, you are very lucky and there is nothing wrong with that either. But do not sell out your 13 beloved fans who WILL take the time to leave a comment, who WILL take the time to reblog because your weird little fic spoke to them on a fundamental level and now is with them for the rest of their lives - in favor of a 100 thumb taps.

If you've made it here, thank you very much for reading. I've added some links to some additional references to see how this concept of "populist" art is having a serious negative down turn in the quality of art, but is also not any one individuals personal failings:

Why the world is addicted to background tv by Kayleigh Day

How Modern Audience are failing cinema by Like Stories of Old

Rupi Kaur episode of Rehash podcast

I'm always here to talk fic and art and what makes you excited about your writing. Much love and please rest. We need you here.

[50shadesofoctarine]

Why you should write that AO3 comment:

Hello! I am an AO3 author and professional fandom dipshit. This is an "essay" on why you should leave that comment on the fanfic you just read.

Table of Contents:

"Commenting is too much effort!"

"I don't know what to write!"

Do you want more fanfic?

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

"Commenting is too much effort!"

Yes, writing a comment takes energy. I'm an introvert, I get that. I have two counter arguments to this point.

AO3 comments are not the SAT:

This is a comment from my latest fic, Quantum Entangled.

Three words and a heart. It requires zero consideration, it isn't specific to the fic, it's something you could copy-paste, even. A comment like this is better than nothing. I'll let my reply from AO3 explain why:

"You know what, I appreciate this way more than you'd probably expect. The temptation to lurk is a strong one, both for social anxiety reasons and internet content-consumption culture reasons. But when people lurk, I can't tell that they've enjoyed the story. The more people that lurk instead of interacting, the more I assume that my work wasn't good enough, irrespective of the reader's actual feelings. So this was a very welcome comment to read. Thank you for indicating your enjoyment. I will endeavour to write more stuff for you to lurk on in the future. :)"

A comment like this, one that is as thoughtless and low effort as possible, is still a comment. Something that denotes a reader's interest. Because, and I can't be clear enough about this, I HAVE NO OTHER WAY OF KNOWING THAT YOU LIKED IT. Kudos and comments are my only window into the reader's experience.

Sure, I'd love more detailed and thorough comments on my work, but, if that expectation is the thing that's going to stop you from commenting at all, I'd prefer the bland copy-paste appreciation.

Onto my second argument.

Do you know what also takes effort? WRITING THE DAMN FIC:

You do not get to complain about being forced to type a congratulatory handful of words after reading that 200k slow-burn fantasy au. Do you know how many hours went into that thing? Do you? Because I can guarantee that it was A LOT. All that writers are asking for is a single emoji. A kudos, at the very least. Consider the effort that went into the creation that you've just experienced and give just a thimble full of it back.

Authors lay out a feast for you to devour. They're only requesting a "thank you".

"I don't know what to write!"

Like in the previous example, an AO3 comment can be as simple as three words saying that you appreciated it. Just an acknowledgement that you were there. It doesn't have to be fancy.

But if you want fancy...?

Here's one of my comments, from Tishae's Better Together.

Let me break it down for you.

"Stunning. This au is so well developed. I love how you managed to maintain tension after the point that they discover that their feelings are requited. This was brilliantly paced, and the action (esp the ending) was so engaging."

The comment opens with appreciation. (Think of it as a sandwich with love as the bread. It starts and ends with my enjoyment.)

There are specific details about what I liked.

"If I may ask, what was the crime that the Metatron committed? Maybe I'm bad at reading between the lines or maybe I missed something, but I'm really curious as to what dirt they have on him. Victimless? Bad enough for imprisonment, but not so morally reprehensible as to make Anathema reveal it? Did he embezzle? That's all I can really think of."

Continues with a specific question about the story and plot.

Shows that I was critically engaged and actively considering the story.

You don't have to have questions about every fic that you read, but don't be afraid to ask them if you do. I love it when people ask me about my work.

"Thank you for the delicious food. I honestly thought that you were going to have Crowley's final look be something in grey (black and white being the theme of the show, metaphorically representing separation/binary, so Aziraphale was uncomfortable with it due to the implications. Grey, symbolising unity/shades of grey as an idiom, would then be the biggest middle finger to the Metatron) but I do really like what you came up with."

Gratitude.

Thoughts about how I read the plot. (This is something I particularly love to read as an author. Please tell me what's going on in that funky lil' brain of yours!!)

"I'm hoping this comment provides plenty of dopamine. If the task activation and instant gratification parts of your brain light up, you might be more likely to write GO content again. Love your work, thanks for sharing it. I hope you gain 3 inches of metaphorical dick length. Please keep writing."

Encouragement to keep writing. (This is the best way to ensure that creators remain in the fandom)

A funny comment to sign off.

Now that you know what to comment, let's start on the real reasons why you should.

Do you want more fanfic?

Fun fact! Fanfictious Authoria are a species that sustain themselves entirely on a diet of brain worms, unfinished WIPs, and kudos. As one of the three fundamental food groups, removing kudos from the fandom ecosystem causes a complete collapse of the natural order. In times of unprecedented scarcity, entire populations of Fanfictious Authoria can die out completely. This means that the production of fanfiction, in that particular region of fandom, stops entirely, often causing major ecological damage, and the subsequent deaths of fan species in the same genus. (Like the Fanfictious Artia, or the Fanfictious Editour, both of which subsist on fanfiction based diets to survive.)

In conservation efforts, experts are imploring readers to donate kudos and comments toward any fandom region that they want to stay alive.

But I digress.

When I want more content, I tell the author. Ask and you shall receive; it's the best way to convince an author/artist to make more.

My comment on @mrghostrat's And They Were Streamers

You liked it? Then COMMENT! Not for the author's sake, but for your own. You want to see the ending of a WIP? Well, it'd be a terrible shame if the author gave up on it because they thought no one was reading... They don't know that you enjoy their work until you TELL THEM. They're not psychic, you have to help them hear you. Commenting on the things you like influences the creators of said things to attribute the act of making content (and, notably, making the type of content that specifically appeals to you) with the dopamine hit of reading your reaction. Treat them like Pavlov's dogs. Ring the kudos-bell.

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

They have real human feelings and real human egos. The contemporary attitude towards media engagement is skewed towards algorithmic, instant, and uncritical consumption. This is pumping straight gasoline into the beautiful lakes of our fandom ecosystem. Fandom cannot afford to treat its creators like mechanical text generators. We are not an unfeeling assembly line, only there to produce content. We are enthusiasts, engaging in our hobby. No fan creator has to show you anything. They are fully within their rights to keep their works hidden in their computer files, never to see the light of day. Every fanfic on AO3 is only there because someone had the grace to share it with you. You are not entitled to an author's work, just as they are not entitled to your kudos. We have a mutually beneficial arrangement. Do not forget your part in this symbiosis.

It's a problem that extends beyond AO3. Tumblr is a less enthusiastic place than it used to be. Fandom as a whole is drifting towards a consumption mindset. I, for one, am sick of it. Reblog things, like them, share them. Make fanart of fanart. Who gives a shit? Do the cringy thing. You don't have to cultivate your blog aesthetic. Be who you are, like what you like, and have enthusiasm about all of it. Fandom should be an expression of radical self acceptance. Embrace it. Leave essays about fics that you liked. Reblog the essays of other's when you see them. Exist in the mutual joy of seeing and being seen. You are not just an external observer, absorbing content from a distance. You are here too. Wave back at us. Say 'hi.'

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

My final appeal is a moral one.

Commenting on AO3 is just a kind thing to do.

You are your actions. Are you the kind of person who does the kind thing when no one is watching? When no one will care?

Fanfiction is a hobby, and I'm not here to guilt you about how you spend your leisure time. I'm only here to say that there is a kindness you could be giving the world.

If you are one of the people that performs this kindness, I thank you.

[surr3al1sm]

I just wanted to come on here and make a little celebration post because Maybe Loving You is Dangerous has officially hit 100 kudo's! That number is like genuinely insane to me because I was expecting it to get like 30, max. I cannot believe it oh my god. I'm so grateful for everyone that has read my fic so far, that has left a kudo's, that has left a comment. It all really means the world to me, thank you so much. I truly wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you guys. I'm so happy you enjoyed the story so far, and I'm so excited for what's coming next because I get to have some fun. I hope you guys will like it! Now, surpisingly or not, I am very bad at talking about myself and my accomplishments. And since it's my celebration post I get to do what I want. Today that is being nice to some other writers. So I decided to leave a little note to the authors that inspired me to write and actually publish this fic under the cut. (So if you got tagged, that might be why). Feel free to read these notes if you want to, it's truly just me being an insufferable fanboy. If you did not get tagged, but we are mutuals (or friends) just know that you might have also had a role in the inspiration and motivation departments of this fic.

A note to @halfratsalready: I'm sure this comes as a surpise to no one, and I warned you I was going to tag you in something. But yeah, being very real and sappy with you: you're like one of my biggest inspirations for this. I was, and still am, absolutely enamored by the Lose Yourself series. I honestly feel confident enough to say that its my favourite Just Dance fic, ever. It's genuinely so well written and you executed everything so perfectly. I loved inserting it into my weekly schedule and I felt so inspired to write afterwards. I'm going to be a little sneaky and say that the whole reason I started even thinking about possibly writing a pre-canon fic. So truly, MLYiD owes Lose Yourself it's life. I joke around sometimes and call you my target audience, but honestly? You are. Everything I write is with your enjoyment in mind. I really do catch myself thinking "I hope Oboe likes this" while writing lol. I will forever be your nbr 1 fanboy, and I am so glad that we're friends. I wouldn't have it any other way.

A note to @libra-cant-just-dance: Hello there! You're the only one in here I haven't talked to, but I still wanted to tag you and tell you how much I love your fic. The Tainted City was such a great fic. I loved the plot and your story telling and the way you describe things is just so amazing. I really look up to it. The Tainted City was a bigger inspiration for my other fic than for this one, but honestly without it I doubt I would have ever started posting fics. So really, I owe you one at this point. Your fics are amazing and I cannot wait to see what you end up doing with Mirrored Walls!

A note to @lightning-and-sparks: Thorns was the first Just Dance fanfic I have ever read, and it will always be one of my favourites. I genuinely enjoy the story and you're such a good author as well. I'm so glad it's back and that I get to read weekly updated for it again. As you know, it is a very big inspiration for MLYiD and I might have accidentally stolen a few things from it but that was all in good faith and because it was all so good that I just had to. Keep it up, I need infinite Throns content (please.)

[anincompletelist]

happy rwrb thanksgiving! :D

in honor of how ridiculously grateful I am for the space and community this fandom has brought to my life, I wanted to create something to give back in the lead up to thanksgiving!

below the cut you'll find an (incomplete) list of ways that you can support the writers and artists that continue to give us such wonderful content. <3

+

firstly, of course, you can support casey + the crew by streaming the film or buying the book!

ways to support writers/fics:

(on ao3) ☆ subscribe to the author ☆ leave kudos ☆ leave a comment ☆ bookmark + add a nice comment in the bookmarkers tags (they're public!) ☆ check the recent works for the fandom to find some lesser known works + subscribe to the pairing for notifications ☆ if you don't like/agree with something or don't have something nice to say, kindly press the back button ☆ this is a good source for other ao3 related support! ☆ this is a good source for learning how to compose comments on ao3!

(on tumblr/twitter) ☆ reblog/retweet the author's fic posts ☆ leave nice comments in the tags or replies ☆ send a nice ask/dm/anon about their work ☆ create a fic rec list or thread ☆ tag others who might enjoy it as well ☆ follow their blog or profile for updates/etc. ☆ follow the tags you're interested in to stay updated on the latest works ☆ once again, if you don't have anything nice to say, you can always choose not to interact with the content! be kind!

ways to support artists/artwork:

☆ purchase from their shops (if they have one!) ☆ commission them (if they accept custom orders!) ☆ 'buy them a coffee' / donate to their ko-fi (if applicable) ☆ reblog/retweet/share their art on whatever platform they post on (but do NOT repost/remove watermark/etc.) ☆ reach out to the artist directly to find out how you can best support them ☆ follow their accounts to stay updated when they post new pieces! ☆ talk about what you liked in the tags or in a comment/message ☆ if you don't like the art/etc., kindly scroll past!

self-promo:

☆ reblog/re-share your own art/writing to make sure it reaches different time zones and demographics ☆ make sure you're tagging your fics and art accordingly to reach your target audience ☆ interact with your readers/viewers for more engagement ☆ get involved in tag games etc. here on tumblr ☆ join (or create!) fests and challenges that you and other writers/artists can take part in ☆ support others in return & be kind!

--

feel free to reblog and add your own ideas if I missed any! there are a million ways to show appreciation, but this is a good start!

no matter why you're here -- whether you're an author, an artist, any other kind of creator, or someone who enjoys the art created by them, publicly or privately, you play such an important role and are actively making this space an uplifting, inspiring community to be a part of. thank you, and continue to create, support, and be kind to one another! :D

I hope you're all having a lovely week, and happy early thanksgiving!

-- anincompletelist / sarah

[legacygirlingreen]

Hi there! First off, I adore your writing! You are sooooo good! You have inspired me to start doing some of my own Clone Wars/TBB drabbles!

Second, I have some questions for Mae, because I am a huge fan! (She is so pretty and cool and fun!):

What are your Life Day plans this year (if you celebrate), and if you do observe the holiday, what would the perfect gift for you to receive be?

Well, first off, thank you so very much for the kind words! I try not to get caught up in the statistics associated with posting content online - as worrying over notes, kudos, reposts, etc only leaves one unfilled in the end. HOWEVER having such kind and uplifting words like yours are so inspiring when they do come. I definitely hope to read some of your work sometime if you post! 

I will try and have Mae answer, especially considering I see her as an extension of myself! So much of her is inspired by me and vice versa! As for answering your question… I’ll let our favorite doc take it away… 

Thank you again Anon! ~ M

(Mae's answer below)

Hi! It is so weird to know I have ‘fans’ in some ways… I consider myself to be quite the average lady! That being said, you so much! My story, albeit a bit unorthodox, is one I hope can inspire others that they may choose a different path. Despite not being the easiest, even if it means leaving all you’ve known: We as humans (or whatever brilliant species in this galaxy you may be!) have the choice to be who we’d like to be!

For life day, I’d say that yes, I do celebrate! Not always in the traditional, Wookie ways perhaps, but I do celebrate. I see Life Day as a chance for rebirth, renewal and starting over. So taking the day off, enjoying the company of those around me, and making sure everyone I hold dear knows they are appreciated! My favorite thing about Life Day is all the lights - warm candles or soft lighting inside along the tree. On my home world we used to participate in the ballet, and that is something I’ve come to associate with the day, even after all this time! 

As for gifts… I am not really sure… I consider myself a practical person. I have hobbies I enjoy, but I don’t find myself in need of a new surfboard at the moment. Things are stocked at the clinic. There’s not much I truly need… However, gifts from the heart always mean a lot to me. Homemade sculptures, or gifts that come from a place of intention. I suppose this year I’d love to just know I have everyone I care about close by!

From what I’ve learned so far, unfortunately Echo and Rex will be off world… so Aiko and I will make do the best we can until she gets to see Echo sometime after. I doubt my friend Rex will make a pitstop (whew that man is so busy!) Regardless I hope he has a good holiday and finds some relaxation regardless of where he is or what he’s doing (perhaps that is my Life day wish this year!) 

Keep an eye out for my friend Leena’s holiday adventures this year… I think she was going to document some of them for you since I tend to be a bit busy and struggle to find time to post them myself! Thank you again dear Anon! Sending you lots of love this Life Day! 💙💙💙

~ Mae 

(Reusing an old photo by @leenathegreengirl!)

[beanmaster-pika]

Hello!! I just read ur fic, The Shoot of Conscious Attainment (at least i hope this is the same person? I only looked up the username), and i wanted to tell u how much i absolutely loved it!!

First of all, I'm a big Venti & Nahida enjoyer myself and it's criminal they haven't yet interacted in-game. Ur fic scratched a very particular itch and im so so glad i found it!! It also helped a lot that they were so in character, it really felt like official content. Their interaction was everything i wanted to see and more!!

The prose itself was very beautiful, especially from Nahida's inner monologue. The play on "old-new" and "unfamiliar-familiar" in regards to Venti was absolutely delicious. And the description of Nahida's hands, specifically the "five hundred years of childhood" part has me in a chokehold. U did such an amazing job portraying her feelings and the smallness she experiences it's unreal.

And obviously Venti himself was glorious, from the wind cuddling to the holding back physical affection until Nahida initiated it. So so good, all of it.

It was really just very enjoyable overall and i liked it a lot!! If i could give it multiple Kudos i would. Loved, loved, loved it!! Thank u for writing it and for sharing it with the world 💖

Aaaaaaaaa thank you so much this is so nice!!!! Always wonderful to meet a fellow Venti & Nahida fan ^^ I'm honored you enjoyed it and thought they were in-character!! I'm glad you liked the prose too!!

My characterization of Nahida draws in part from reading heartslogos (the god of Sumeru fics. To me) fics around the time I wrote this if you're ever on the hunt for recs 👀They wrote some incredible Nahida-centric ones a couple years ago, and I'm glad I was able to channel that energy and have it come through! Even if she's one of if not the smartest people in the world and 500 years old, she still lived those centuries as a bird in a cage that prevented her from growing. I hope that in between her archon duties, she now gets to experience a real childhood and explore the world and ultimately grow up happy :')

One of the sad things about Rukkhadevata being erased from Irminsul is that Nahida doesn't just have big shoes to fill but big shoes that she already supposedly filled before. Poor radish. Trying to live up to a standard you've set yourself and being unsure if you can do it again is a different sort of torment from trying to live up to your predecessor.

I am glad also that you enjoyed Venti's portrayal, the wind cuddles were something self-indulgent that I wrote for Me so I'm glad others actually like them 🙏 In part because he's nervous about meeting Nahida and doesn't want to make her uncomfortable but also he's an affectionate person!! He's fifty percent mischief but the other fifty percent is love!! and also because I am just. Endlessly fascinated by his connection with the wind. He is the wind itself. It's like an extension of him, but without the solid physicality that actually tethers it to him if that makes any sense.

Anyways! Thank you for reading it and sharing your thoughts with me!!!! 💗 (and for leaving kudos) I'm happy that you liked it enough to say all this!

[twotangledsisters]

You’re awesome for posting fic updates not only consistently, but daily! Any tips for keeping up with writing?

Thank you so much! I love updates and writing being a part of my routine and I'm glad other people enjoy it too!

And sure, I can think of some tips:

First, there's a mixture of inspiration and forcefulness. I remember when I was really little I read a post somewhere about how if you want to take something seriously, you have to take it seriously on the days when you're inspired and on the days you're not. That changed how I treat art forever!

But years and years later I learnt a more important lesson, to never overlook the power of inspiration.

It's through a mixture of both that I can really keep up with writing. If I only wrote when inspired, sooner or later I'd get a loooong writing block that would leave me simply paralysed. But I'll often do the 'just one chapter' method, and often writing just a few paragraphs will get me back into the flow. But if I'm still very blocked after a chapter, that's fine.

But if I am inspired, I will follow that. Even if it takes my story in weird directions that weren't planned! A good example is that Caine rescuing Cass in the final S1 fic wasn't planned, she wasn't planned to come along in S2 and certainly did not expect her to fall in love... A lot of their scenes came from me writing while inspired.

Now, stuff such as Eugene's near death in S1 finale, the way Koto framed him, the way Cass had to deal with accusations of witchcraft, those stuff were planned way ahead of time!

It's really important to keep that balance, to have plans and also leave room for inspiration to run wild!

An added bonus, if you feel an intense desire to go write a fic that's completely different to the one you're trying to work on, just let inspiration win. I was struggling a bit with the 'Day of Animals' arc in tangled sisters the other day, then I got the urge to do a little Cass oneshot, so I wrote the oneshot in one sitting and have had zero issues writing since.

Sometimes you can unblock writing block with MORE writing! As long as you're letting inspiration guide you.

Second is to take breaks! I update every day but I do not write every day. I write a few times a week and usually have at least one really long session!

One of my currently updating fics 'Always By Your Side' I wrote half of it in like a week, took a few months break, then wrote the rest and started publishing!

Sometimes long breaks can really help. I've taken several long breaks with Tangled Sisters.

Third is stay ahead. With 'Always By Your Side' I have it completely written so I just proof read on the day of upload. Tangled Sisters I keep track of in Notion:

Look how cute my fanfic section is!

I'm usually at least 30 chapters ahead but I did take a writing break recently. Soon as I get the next arc done I expect to be well ahead again.

Fourth, motivation! This one isn't entirely your control, but a huge factor for keeping up is just that I'm super motivated! I can thank the amazing people who comment every day, those who comment occasionally, those who leave kudos or send nice asks like this one!

It does sooo much to make me smile and excited for the stories I'm telling.

And if you look at my fanfic section of notion, I have that little box titled kind words, the content actually changed every time I reload the page, it's linked to a little table where I keep track of all the kind words regarding my fics that I've gotten on Ao3 and tumblr! (I also have several bits of fanart by the amazing @rebecagpfs in that page who I cannot thank enough!!!)

So, although you don't have full control over motivation, having a notebook to collect those kind words can help!

Fifth would be talk to people. Have at least one person who's cool with spoilers cause brainstorming is just easier with somebody else! For me @the-writer1988 has got me through sooo many writer's blocks! Often times I just ramble at her until the problem resolves itself, other times it'd be a more active back and forth. But writing friends supporting each other, always great!

And hey, to anybody who wants to ramble about their fics to me I'm always open! I love hearing about people's fics and am huge on the writer supporting writers sorta mentality!

Sixth is just have fun! If you enjoy what you're writing it's going to be sooo much easier than if you don't.

I do want to point out though, every writer's different! I can sit down and write 10k words in one sitting, but a lot of people can't, just like I need five hour to do a drawing many artists can do in an hour.

Writing is an art and you get faster with experience.

Also, I do daily updates because I adore consistency! Having that routine is amazing for me and I think it's lovely for some readers. But I also accomplish that via very short chapters! Sometimes as short as just 600-700 words. Many authors opt for longer chapters that upload weekly but there still writing the same amount!

So yeah, I do hope this helped!

Thank you so much for the ask :D And if anything didn't make sense, please tell me, it's almost 1am here I just noticed but I really wanted to answer this before bed!

[zablife]

1.8K Follower Celebration

Hello lovelies, I am sharing this a bit late bc life has been busy, but I've reached 1.8K followers and wanted to say thank you! It means so much to me when people read and reblog/comment on my fics and moodboards! This will be the laziest celebration I've ever hosted bc I won't actually be writing anything...and neither will you. If you're curious what will be happening, keep reading.

I'm tired of seeing lovely content go to waste on this platform after as little as a week! This is your chance to share a beloved work that didn't get the kudos it deserved. How to participate:

❧Via ask, send me the link to one fic of yours that you'd like to breathe life into and let's get it circulating again for others to enjoy!

❧Do it quickly tho bc I'll post a complete list on 22 May so I don't get overwhelmed with a reading list I can't finish in a timely manner.

❧Since I'd like to read some unfamiliar work, please check to see if I've read it. I ALWAYS reblog with a comment so it should be easy to find out if I've seen it.

❧I like attention too (obvs) so I invite you to dig into my back catalogue and leave some love in the form of a reblog or comment. I'll adore you forever 💕

❧ Happy reading!

Tagging some v talented moots: @runnning-outof-time, @shelbydelrey, @raincoffeeandfandoms, @cillmequick, @theshelbyclan, @look-at-the-soul, @solomons-finest-rum, @dearshelby, @murderousginger, @noforkingclue, @gypsy-girl-08, @huntingingoodwill, @peakyswritings, @mythos-writes, @notyour-valentine, @evita-shelby, @toms-cherry-trees, @moral-terpitude, @little-diable, @pherelesytsia, @areyenotfondofmelobster, @dandelionprints, @hb-writes, @buttercupsandboys, @justlulu, @dreamlandcreations, @l1-l4, @writeroutoftime, @teenwolf-theoriginals, @amysteryspot, @call-sign-shark, @madame-wilsonn, @the-makingsofgreatness, @flysafepapi, @theshelbyslimited, @potter-solomons, @findinghisredrighthand, @shelbywhiterose, @multifandomwriter56, @there-goes-thefighter, @hecatemoon87, @midnightmagpiemama, @midnightswithdearkatytspb, @mgcldydrms, @pacifymebby, @shelby-fangirl00, @brummiereader, @peakyltd, @jomarch-wannabe

[bookwormbynight]

Having a following on the internet is probably one of the strangest things - if not the strangest thing - I've ever had to adjust to. My Tumblr account was a blank slate that hadn't followed a single person or liked a single post until July of this year. I posted bad fanfiction that got fifty views and five kudos since I was twelve that nobody noticed or cared when I orphaned or deleted. I was a fly on the wall for the vast majority of my life.

I wouldn't say I'm famous now, but I'm aware I have eyes on me. I have 70 followers, I get regular feedback on thoughts I used to text to my four irl friends who would have rolled their eyes and moved on, I get people asking my opinion on things or using my platform to share theirs because that's a legitimate avenue now, I get dms I'd never gotten before in my life, people asking me for things, I have people scrutinizing my actions and my moral character (I, a stranger on the internet), I have people recognizing my old comments from years ago and getting excited now, and I have people telling me that I caused in them the exact reactions I used to have that made me want to do this in the first place.

This isn't a complaint or a brag or a "I'm leaving" post, to be clear. I just think it's nuts. Do you guys have any idea how much this experienced has changed me, the habits I have, the way I view myself? This is my hobby.

My ego has swollen and my anxiety has heightened and I have to teach myself how to be a person in an entirely new plane of existence, and god, that is weird.

And I'm sure many of you can relate to that! I'm not special! Pretty much all of the people I regularly interact with also post content, oftentimes getting reactions far larger than mine, and it's almost like friends but also not because I don't know you and you don't know me and if I fuck up you don't know if that's a part of who I am or a mistake I made, because I haven't done, maybe can't do, anything to give you a foundation of trust in the public square. We're a community of strangers on display for everyone to see.

Is this something possible to explain to someone who has never experienced it? Would I have understood before I knew? It doesn't matter. I would have done it anyway.

Tumblr life aside, I started writing because I wanted to be able to replicate the emotions that stories gave me. When I became obsessed, or cried, or jumped up and down, or threw my phone at the wall all because of something that does not actually exist - isn't that just incredible? Those memories of mine? Those feelings? Imagine being able to pass it on, to give that gift to someone else, I've done that.

Twelve year old me would have died if she saw where she would be in six years.

Thank you so much, sincerely, to everyone who's let me know they enjoyed one of my fics. Go write your own, write another one. Give me those feelings, accomplish that. And I'm sending love.

[f1fnatic]

XNDA ⤿ l. hamilton 44

→ ( in which. . . ) you, a famous musician, release a new album with an unknown feature. you both post suspicious photos of random people on your respective social medias. your fans start to connect you with a highly decorated formula one driver.

→ ( part. . . ) 1 of 2

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) social media au

→ ( face claim. . . ) christina aguilera

→ ( pairing. . . ) lewis hamilton x singer!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) fluff, setting the plot

→ ( author's note. . . ) this is my first ever social media au, it was super fun to mess around with this fic. i hope you enjoy! see end for more.

→ ( masterlist )

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/nmusic

liked by theweeknd, lewishamilton, pharell and 2,873,409 others

y/music i am so excited to announce my 8th studio album liberation! i have worked so hard to produce this and had so much fun creating this album.

i would like to thank everyone who featured in these songs, you were all such a joy to work with! i would also like to thank my person for being my rock and helping me when i felt that this project was not moving/going anywhere, i love you so much <3

view 584,893 comments

user5 so excited!!

user17 mother is mothering

pharell it was a pleasure to work with you liked by y/nmusic

f1lover lewis is lurking...

lewishamilton cannot wait to listen 🖤

f1ishamilton THE HEART???

roscoe4ever EXCUSE ME??? WHAT IS THIS?

user12 who is the "rock"...

user29 "my person" ???!!!?!?!?!

gwenstefani so so so proud of u ❤ liked by y/nmusic

─ TWITTER ↴

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/nmusic

📍 brackley, england

liked by lewishamilton, pharrell, taylorswift, gwenstefani and 3,173,562 others

y/nmusic a weekend away ❤️

view 298,754 comments

user4 hope you had fun!!

y/nmusic i did thank you 🫶🏻

user4 OH MY GOD Y/N???

f1lvr lewis is lurking AGAIN.

gwenstefani girl who are u holding hands with?

y/nmusic calling u rn dw gwen

y/nstan LOL not even gwen knows this is crazy

y/nfan gf who is the guy 🤨

y/nfan2 there goes another parasocial relationship

y/nlover3 scratching my eyes out (i am so happy for her)

lh444 the location???

roscoe4ever RIGHT like hello??

taylorswift i miss you ml ☹️

y/nmusic i'll be back soon dw!

lewishamilton

📍 brackley, england

liked by y/nmusic, sebastianvettel, fencer, roscoelovescoco and 4,367,981 others

lewishamilton recharging with the ones i love most 🖤

tagged: roscoelovescoco

view 458,512 comments

lewisfan i am soooooooo normal about this (i am going crazy)

lewisfan2 me too (i am actually ripping my hair out)

roscoelovescoco love's you's dad's 🐾

lh444 sometimes i forget that lewis runs his dogs account, i remember, and then get the ick

y/nfan7 what is y/n doing here

sebastianvettel you look like you are having fun! liked by y/nmusic and lewishamilton

lewisfan3 the matching shoes 😭

lewisy/nshipper not him using the same black heart emoji he used on the liberation announcement?

y/nfan okay grandma lets get u back to bed

─ TWITTER ↴

i am back!! i am so sorry for taking such a long hiatus, i have had no motivation to write, i get ideas but then hate how i make them. i hope you all enjoy this fic! thank you for reading! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

[trust-sancus]

NO LONGER ACTIVE

This has been on my mind for a while, but I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it’s best I step back from the tmnt fandom.

I knew going into it and making videos on tiktok would lead to an unhealthy obsession with creating and engaging in fandom content, to the point that I’d completely neglect my original art and other matters in my life. But I did so anyway for the momentary satisfaction that fandom brings.

But in truth, it has been eating at me that I am unable to focus my time nor energy toward my original work, and now it dawns on me that nearly an entire year has passed & that is a lot of time that has been wasted. Yes, it was fun, and I’m glad my work was able to bring some enjoyment to others, and that I was able to enjoy others’ work as well…..but ultimately, it has kept me trapped in place in terms of where I want to be in life.

I need to get back to creating original artwork, so I can build my business and really start toward the life/future I want.

I’ll always have a love for tmnt; that much is clear. I mean, I’ve loved them for the better part of 28 years, so I know they’ll always be a special interest of mine. But I need to keep that love contained, for my own sake, and not spend my time interacting as much with the fandom as I have been.

Not that I don’t care for you guys (you’ve been awesome tbh). It’s just that I lack the ability to focus my energy toward two things at once, and in this case, my dreams, my career, and my future livelihood have to come first. Sorry if this is a disappointment to anyone.

I really did want to create a comic for my tmnt iteration. Maybe someday I will, once I am further along with building my business. But really, I know that’s likely wishful thinking & it would be better to put my time toward original comics rather than fan comics, if I am to do any at all.

I might still draw my turtles on occasion and post them here (no promises though). And I will probably check in to maybe look at fanart occasionally. I may also randomly update my current fanfics, if only because I sometimes use writing as an outlet. But aside from that, I will no longer be very active on here, so please do not expect any prompt replies should you message me or tag me in anything.

The tmnt fan iteration blog still has a bit more scheduled, but I probably won’t reblog anything else there once it catches up, as I won’t be on here enough to look for new iteration posts.

Kudos to anyone who has actually read all of this. Sorry I tend to ramble. Didn’t want to leave any unanswered questions. Sorry if this all seems pretty sudden (it’s been a long time coming for me).

Thanks for being cool, and I wish y’all the best.

[suleikashideaway]

Updated September 12, 2024

Chapter 13: Preventative Measures

Chapter length: 4,149

Chapter Summary: 

Cid was looking directly at Squall as if it were the first time he was seeing him. “Do you really believe that?” “Yes!” Squall yelled, his voice cracking. “And it's worth trying, even if you're right and we can't stop it from happening. We have to try!”

—

A week late on this update, but I’m happy to get it more Squall out into the world! 

I cannot tell you how many times I had convinced myself that I wouldn’t care about stats, but guys! People are reading this story!! And commenting! And leaving kudos! I am astounded that the hit count is now over 470, and the kudos count is 27. And three bookmarks?! What!???! Truly astonished. And eternally grateful.

I know this story is not everyone’s…ahem, cup of tea…but to those of you who have given it a chance, I thank you. And to those who have left comment after comment (you know who you are, you beautiful people), you guys add months to my life with every notif in my inbox. Pretty sure you’ll be reaching the fanfic equivalent of sainthood sometime soon. I love you guys so much.

Anyway, enough sappiness, I hope you enjoy the latest installment! Squall is still a bit angies but let’s be real, he needs it. 

More about Time Will Tell under the cut!

Fic Summary: Carefree, fun-loving, passionate, free spirited, can also mean impulsive, reckless, obsessive, thoughtless. Rinoa Heartilly is learning the dangers of her own personality, and who she will become if she continues down this path. 

Squall Leonhart is fully awake now, no longer a pawn in someone else’s plan. He’s ready to take charge of his own fate. But what if fate has other plans? 

Rating: M

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Chapters: 13/?

Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII

Relationships: Rinoa Heartilly/Squall Leonhart, Selphie Tilmitt/Irvine Kinneas, Zell Dincht/Library Girl, Rinoa Heartilly & Selphie Tilmitt, Ellone & Squall Leonhart, Squall Leonhart & Quistis Trepe, Squall Leonhart & Irvine Kinneas, Ellone & Rinoa Heartilly

Characters: Rinoa Heartilly, Squall Leonhart, Cid Kramer, Edea Kramer, Selphie Tilmitt, Irvine Kinneas, Zell Dincht, Quistis Trepe, Library Girl, Laguna Loire, Ellone, Kiros Seagill, Ward Zabac, Fury Carraway, Seifer Almasy, Original Characters

Tags: Angst with a happy ending, Fluff in early chapters, Self discovery, Navigating relationships, Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Codependency, Sexual content, Drug & Alcohol use, Canon-typical violence, Debunking a fan theory, Friendship, Fandom blind, Post-canon, What is time anyway, Fate & Destiny, Tags to be added