#i had a whole outline though of the plot i had a plan but it was also the first comic i ever made so my method of organization was madness

[kirkodiletears]

This used to be a part of a post, but I decided to make it into a separate one, because it speaks of crusual things for understanding SVSSS, it's plot and it's characters.

As I found out recently, there's a huge misunderstanding going on in the English-speaking segment, probably dew to an English translation of SVSSS (only a speculation, I myself never had this problem, although I read in several other languages as well, so I can compare) concerning the fact whether or not PIDW was originally planned by Airplane as a yaoi with bingqiu as an OTP. (Spoiler: yes, it was). Some readers are mislead by two quotes, that they take as a contradictory, which in truth, they are NOT.

The first one is from a Chapter "The story begins". It is the last chapter of the novel, after this the extras start. And this particular chapter is a culmination: this is where the truth is reveled. Like in a detective story, where we finally find out, who the killer is. This meant to become a real "bomb", that makes a reader go WOOOW!!! And this is THE KEY for understanding the whole story: the plot and the characters, especially Luo Bing-mei (and Luo Bing-ge). And it speaks about the original INTENTIONS of the Airplane, that he betrayed in order to please the crowd and that came true in the universe of the System. (original scrapped outline(c))

The second quote, from the extras, on the other hand speaks of an EXISTING PIDW, (original outline(c)), that he actually wrote, but never finished, because he died and woke up in the Universe of the System. And it gives us a glimpse into the way he planned to finish it.

The first quote, from the final chapter:

Shen Qingqiu looked him up and down. “You don’t look crushed at all after all this foolish messing around ended up completely changing your own novel.”

Shang Qinghua said, “You can’t say it like that ah. Maybe you think it’s just all foolish messing around that isn’t worth a damn, but for Bing-ge, your foolish messing around is probably the meaning of this entire world.”

... holy s***, Great God Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky was able to say something like that?!

Shen Qingqiu was terrified. “F***. You didn’t turn back into the original character, did you?”

Shang Qinghua said seriously, “Don’t be like that. I’m also a young person with literary ideals. Of course, I have my own reflections and emotions.”

Shen Qingqiu laughed coldly. “What literary ideals? How come all I saw in the original work was shameless fanservice?” Not to mention his hand speed that could produce ten thousand words a day, and the courage to even occasionally explode with twenty thousand. If he didn’t have such equipment, there was no way 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》 would have been able to hold out before it was serialized!

Shang Qinghua spread his hands. “You think that I always wrote shameless content that lacked any integrity from the very start? I’ve also written belles-lettres4 before, but they were all unpopular, so I had no choice but to go down a path that catered to the masses. It must be said that writing novels is a very lonely undertaking. Rather than writing a stallion male protagonist who’ll be stereotypical in the end, it’s more in line with my philosophy for writing to create the current Bing-ge━this kind of weirdo male protagonist whose character is a bit more complicated, has contradictions and conflicts, and has a rough destiny.”

Shen Qingqiu concluded, “So, your philosophy for writing is to write about gay guys?”

Shang Qinghua: “Do you look down upon gay male protagonists? Works of art and artists all like to create gay guys. Belles-lettres favors gays, do you know that?”

He waved his arms wildly and passionately. “Cucumber Bro, if the System hadn’t chosen you, this faithful die-hard reader, perhaps the plot wouldn’t have deviated so thoroughly, thoroughly to the point that it deviated all the way back to my original scrapped outline. Even though the me back in reality━who couldn’t endure the loneliness and was under financial pressure━chose to finish writing 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》 according to other people’s preferences and what they found cool... now, all thanks to you, essentially everything that I wanted to write has already unfolded in front of my eyes. Cucumber Bro!”

He patted Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders with deep sentiment and solemnity. “You... are the chosen one; as for my career, I have no more regrets!”

... why did it sound like the System and this world were both products of Shang Qinghua’s resentment over scrapping that outline and going with what was mainstream?

Shen Qingqiu, who shamefully became this kind of “chosen one”: “Who’s your faithful die-hard reader?”

Shang Qinghua waved his hand and one-sidedly declared his victory. “I’m not going to talk to you; you’re an anti-fan.”

Shen Qingqiu was about to say, “I’m only an anti, not a fan!” when he suddenly heard Shang Qinghua starting crooning something like, “Emotions are warm, kindness hard to bear, lips moving together, desires turning the evening to the next morning, never resting from dawn to dusk.” The crucial point was that melody, which sounded extremely familiar to the point that it made Shen Qingqiu’s hands and teeth itch. He pointed at him and said, “Shang Qinghua, what are you singing?”

Shang Qinghua continued to croon. “The warmth of emotions makes gratitude hard to bear. Lips to lips, locked in a kiss. Let this night linger ‘til tomorrow’s dawn. Day after day, night after night; never to end. Will tomorrow be another today? When ‘til Zheng Yang reaches its zenith? As Zheng Yang ascends, the voice of Autumn stirs. A sheathless Xiu Ya, a spurt of cold nectar. Tragic pleas amidst choked sobs, thus in vain; for he rises again5...”

Shen Qingqiu was in disbelief. “F*** you—why don’t you just try and sing another line?”

Shang Qinghua said, “Great Lord Shen, why aren’t you listening to what I’m saying? You must never go around casually f***ing people. Bing-ge will go crazy. I’m telling you, this Resentment of Chunshan is equivalent to Shi Ba Mo6. You two are the legendary national homos, do you understand? I have no problems with you shutting me up, but ultimately it’s useless. You can’t possibly make all the countless people in the world shut up...” (NB, Ch 81)

The second quote, from the extras:

【 Basic completion of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s original outline achieved (slight deviation in romance plotline); objective complete. Retrieving function to return to original world; download complete. Activate Return Home sequence? 】 Basic completion of the original outline? That he agreed with. All the holes that needed to be filled had been filled. But this “slight deviation of romance plot” wasn’t quite right. Bing-ge was now fully gay; how could you say that was a “slight deviation”? Ah, fine, fine, in fact, in his original outline, Bing-ge hadn’t even had a romance plotline; he had been doomed to fade away, alone and unaging forever. If you insisted on adding a romance plotline, all right, that was whatever, so putting aside all the System’s rambling…this meant he could return to his original world?! (Seven Seas, Ch. 26)

Basic completion of the original outline and filling it's plotholes - THIS is what's talked about in this quote! Not the scrapped original outline!

The English translation, which I only read recently, in my opinion is not very clear, in comparison to, for example, Russian translations, and not just the most popular version by Псой и Сысой, for ex: there are more than one, and they all pretty much nailed it. 感情线 used in original (that's what, apparently, caused the doubts for some reason, in spite that the quote itself absolutely clearly speaks of 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》’s original outline, the one big "error of a novel", that needed to be redressed, and not the scrapped original outline that never saw the daylight) itself refers to a "romantic plotline". So the author himself tells you, that his original Bing-ge had none. But how come? Why is that? Bing-ge, as we know, has got a huge harem, he for sure cannot be the case of dying alone without love!.. Or can he? Apparently, this is exactly his fate - no love. And the Airplane, the way he planned the original scrapped outline, knows better than anyone else - there's, well, none. The Protagonist's harem is nothing to do with romance whatsoever (see the quote below from the forum as an example, what the readers of PIDW themselves think of the relationship between Bing-ge and his harem). It all has to do with protagonists coolness and power and getting everything, including all the women, because he is super powerful and he is the center of that universe. It's about power, it's about lust, it's about influence and control, and showing, who the real boss is. But not love or romance. PIDW is not a romantic novel in a slightest: its a third rate pornography and a ode to toxic masculinity, so distasteful and disgusting, that the resentment of it's author with his own creation was powerful enough to create the whole new universe (The System) just to correct it! And this particular quote speaks of Bing-ge not having ANY SIGNIFICANT RELATIONSHIP, LOVE. Псой и Сысой for translating 感情线 in this particular case use much more explicit and profound "заслуживающие упоминания эмоциональные привязанности" ("the emotional connections worth mentioning"), rather than abstract "romantic plotline". Because the only significant person in his life pushed Bing-ge away. (And we know, who that person is, thanks to the System Universe - his shizhun.) Romance has nothing to do with the amount of partners he fucks - they are not of any romantic or emotional significance for Bing-ge. This is how his relationship with the harem is described by the PIDW reader's forum in the novel:

"Airplane really doesn’t know how to write romance plotlines, best if he just doesn’t. I feel like Luo Binghe doesn’t have feelings for any of his wives, he just wants to use them. And I can’t see any of those women with real moving emotion for him. "(NB, Ch. 73)

So - no romance for Bing-ge in PIDW, the Airplane didn't grant him this privilege and happiness. And yes - the ending for the tyrant he's become in PIDW is not happy in a slightest.

So, binqui did not appear out of nowhere, and yes - it has always been there from a beginning, in the core of everything. Implied. This is not only canon: it is the exact essence of it, the base, the foundation, which explaines everything that happens in the novel and even beyond - in PIDW, where the mighty protagonist that has everything, except the only one thing he really needs - the love of his shizun - is doomed to an eternal unhappiness and loneliness.

[ppushable]

Fanfic writer interview

tysm for the tag eb! sorry i took so long getting to it. i swear it was screaming at me from the drafts the whole time

How many work do you have on AO3?

4! (but one of them doesn’t really count because it’s a test)

What's your total AO3 word count?

84,177

What are your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?

two ibuprofen - 92 notes

low tide - 44 notes

just us - 26 notes

ofcwbo - i’m not sure but she’s definitely at the bottom

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes i do! i love that people take the time and effort to do this and i want to show my gratitude always. they didnt have to comment but they did. fics are so personal as well imo, seeing what other people have to say about it is. i’m not sure how to describe it but it makes me want to yell into a pillow.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

ofcwbo will have the edgiest ending, but since i haven’t actually finished any of my (posted) fics other than just us, it has to take the title by default. (it does have a very angsty ending though. and an angsty beginning and middle)

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

using the above logic, just us by default….? (it would be anything in the rose tinted hours collection (that being two ibu or low tide (for now (👁️)) because that’s my happiness and i shall keep angst away from it with a 10 km pole)

Do you write crossovers?

nope

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nope! if that happens i’ll wither and die

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

no

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

oh dear god. my origin story

back in my reddit phase (i was like 13? leave me alone) i made art for a fandom which mustn’t be named and met another person there. we became friends (stranger danger, i know, i’m smarter now) and somehow we started writing fic. it went pretty well, they would make most of the plot and the chapter outline and i would go in and edit it to make it make sense. we had a good run, all things considered. we then moved on to another fandom (read: they dragged me into another fandom) and we wrote for that one as well, except this time i got the opportunity to write my own chapters with my own ocs. that’s when i started realizing how nice and cool this was.

if youre seeing this, J, hi.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

jean and i. alternatively, me and jean (YEAH FOR SELFSHIP DELULU I LOVE BEING INSANE)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

i don’t have such weaknesses. i WILL finish all my wips.

(ofcwbo. it’s going to drag on forever. deep inside a part of me wants to be realistic and say that it’s a little unrealistic for me to actually get down everything i wanted in a way that satisfies me. maybe i dont even WANT to finish it, because the fic has been such a comfort in the back of my mind for so long that the idea of it suddenly. terminating. is terrifying. maybe i’m overthinking it. i just dont want that world in my head to die, whether that be by fading away quietly or suddenly coming to an end.)

What are your writing strengths?

toughie. i think my descriptions are solid, as well as getting into the mc’s head (but that can just be attributed to the first person pov thing aha).

What are your writing weaknesses?

planning whatever i’m trying to write - i dont control it, it infects my brain and hands and forges its own way. i’m also not a huge fan of proofreading (this mostly applies to the earlier chapters of ofcwbo (i get embarrassed)). i also have a tendency to repeat a certain phrase or metaphor in a fic without realizing it. sequences of actions are hard to write too.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i try not to do it too much because it can be confusing and having to translate/provide a translation can break the flow. but i do like adding in little phrases sometimes based on my hcs for what languages the characters speak

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

i’m not sure i have one. i’m deep in the bowels of jean/reader purgatory and i don’t see a way out

What's your favorite fic you've written?

just us. <3

@firefly--bright no pressure (yes pressure)

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you @thelettersfromnoone for the tag!! 💖

How many work do u have on AO3?

3, not your local AO3 girlie lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

8 534

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes

I'll go with Tumblr ones, cause from my 3 AO3 works the biggest number I got is 31 lmao

Anyone but you (Legolas x f!reader)

Night watch (Legolas x Reader)

Well-deserved rest (Haldir x f!Reader)

One messy night (Boromir x f!Reader)

Transition (Haldir x f!Reader)

Honorable mention (since it's not fics but headcanons)

Green Council receiving a hot pic from you (HotD)

TLK men's reaction on being pet named

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments! These little things are brightening up my day, so I wanna let the people know that they are my heroes hahaha

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I really think it's Transition. All in all it's a pretty dark story, a bit depressing I think (I had these intentions while writing at least).

Otherwise, I don't think I have angsty endings fics?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

New family members for sure!! Was thinking hard what to choose, cause I think all of my happy ending fics are on the pretty same level on a happy scale, but I remember that I have this gen, non romantic baby and I love it so much ❤️‍🩹 There's a little TLK OMC for y'all

Do you write crossovers?

I wanted to say I've never done this BUT THEN!!! My Assassin's Creed (Ezio) x LOTR little headcanon!!! My beloved child!!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, not that I remember getting any hate on my fics

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, tho not much and on rare occasions. I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger (a teen), then I stopped being comfortable with it for a wild few years (tho reading never made me uncomfortable lmao).

Now I started writing smut again, idk what kind? Don't really understand what does that mean lol F x M traditional sex? Pretty detailed? If so, then yes lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't know 😂 Maybe, maybe not. I think rather not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge, I don't think so.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

We tried with my friend a long long time ago. Didn't go well lmao It's hard and kinda stressing, cause you never know what the other person is gonna write (at least we had this SURPRISE system), so... You kinda have zero plot cause everything you want to write plot-wise can be ruined by the second person's plot lmao

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Athelnar?? Athelstan and Ragnar were my first ever OTP (quickly followed by Alfred and Uhtred). You could never beat that Athelnar shit out of my body lmao I've never written for them, but oh I do love them boys!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Now, that's the HARSH one lmao

I think I have at least 3 OC stories that I really wanna write (2 for TLK and one for LOTR), but I'm scared that I will never actually do it. I never was good with multi chaptered stories, and these are indeed not a one shots 🥲

What are your writing strengths?

Ugh... I don't know? I think I was pretty good with dialogues and descriptions of the surroundings to build the atmosphere. But... I guess it's not for me to decide but for the readers?

What are your writing weaknesses?

I rarely finish what I've started lmao I should write everything in one go or else I'll never finish it... Or will finish it in two months even if it's a 2k words one shot

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I love them! I've only done it with my LOTR fics (with Sindarin) but I really love it. But I really love it when the language is different from the language of the settings? Like, if the story is happening in England and everyone is English, but you have two characters who can speak idk Dutch, let them have a Dutch language in their dialogue. I had a rant post about it not that long ago actually lmao You have to think about your in-universe language

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Ahhh Bungou Stray Dogs! I love them, and I'd gladly try to write something for them. Not a character/character but reader my beloved.

And maybe Stephane Narcisse (reign) my beloved and a reader

What's your favorite fic you've written?

The blood on my hands (Eomer) and Peace (Finan) are definitely my fave ones I think. They are dark and both explore some trauma

No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @lord-aldhelm @holy3cake @gemini-mama @emilyhufflepufftlk @persephones-journey @solinarimoon @mrsalwayswrite @emmanuellececchi @bilbotargaryen @levithestripper @mrsarnasdelicious @paula-in-dreamland

[inkxmilk]

What would have happened in My Sweet Honey? I really liked it back in the day

ahhh sorry I stopped updating it! I dont want to say exactly because maybe one day I'll revisit it but roughly they'll have conflict due to kale's insensitivity,, but eventually live happily ever after 💕

[thankskenpenders]

As I'm sure many of you are already aware, Did You Know Gaming (who have been doing some really great investigative work lately) recently put out a video on canceled Sonic games. The whole thing's worth a watch, but I have to bring it up here specifically because they talk about the plans for Sonic Chronicles 2 with a LOT of new info directly from the lead designer.

The section on how the story of Sonic Chronicles 2 would have went starts at 9:45. It's very interesting! He outlines the whole plot, including the fact that they were going to end with ANOTHER obvious plot hook for a sequel in the hopes that they or some other studio could keep the Sonic Chronicles series going indefinitely. Sonic Team even claimed they were interested in using Chronicles characters like Shade in other games. It's crazy to imagine a timeline where this might have become a pillar of the franchise.

I refuse to mourn the loss of the sequel, though, because y'all saw me stream the original. It was miserable. And with the original game selling and reviewing decently well, they would have had little reason to go back to the drawing board and overhaul that game's bizarrely hateful design.

Of course, DYKG also had to talk about the reason why the game was canceled. I was dreading this because of how often people tend to get the basic facts of the Penders cases wrong or downplay the obvious Archie Knuckles inspiration in Chronicles. But no, they did their homework! And they got the details right in part because, well... they asked Penders for comment directly. And he sent them back a MASSIVE wall of text about the whole ordeal, including some fascinating details that I don't believe I've heard before!

You can go to 15:19 in the video and scrub through to read the many, MANY screencaps of their emails from Ken, but here are the most interesting and/or hilarious tidbits to me:

#1: Perjury!

As we already knew, Ken claimed that the incomplete, photocopied contract Archie presented in court was a forgery, and that he had never signed a work for hire contract.

The judge obviously knew that one side had to be lying here, and thus was more than willing to present the case to a jury to let them decide the truth... and send whoever was deemed the liar to jail for perjury. (The judge apparently looked Ken directly in the eye when he said this, which... well, make of that what you will.)

Archie's lawyers knew that they didn't have a completely airtight case and obviously did not want to go to jail. So they decided to settle instead of going to trial in front of a jury.

(I will reiterate that Archie's arguments not working out is overall a GOOD thing, because we really do not want to set a legal precedent where corporations can "lose" a contract for a creator, make up a story about what was on the contract, and then have that hold up in court. They gotta get that shit in writing. And they didn't. They fucked up!)

#2: Sega was threatening to revoke the Sonic license!

As we knew, Sega wanted nothing to do with the comic copyright lawsuit. To them, it was Archie's job as licensee to deal with their freelancers. (Y'all watch Succession? You know how Logan loves lackeys who will eat shit for him without him having to even hear about the problem? Yeah.) And, in fact, according to Ken, Sega gave Archie an ultimatum: if they wanted their license to make Sonic comics renewed, they were gonna have to deal with Ken on their own, and cover all the costs.

Yeah, uh, this kinda makes me think that Sega being pissed about the ongoing Scott Fulop copyright case in 2016 may have been a bigger factor in Archie Sonic's cancellation than I previously thought. There was a lot going on at the time that could have contributed, but, y'know.

Anyway, Archie sued Ken for "damaging their business" largely because Sega was threatening to take away the Sonic IP. But because Archie couldn't ask Sega for help and they couldn't produce an original contract, they had to settle.

There's another detail I find funny here, though. Ken WANTED Sega to get involved in the comic copyright case, thinking that Sega would strongarm Archie into paying him the millions of dollars he wanted for "using his work without permission" so that they could be done with it. I mean, sure. I guess Sega wouldn't have cared about Archie's finances, but still. I'm not so sure that would've worked out for him.

#3: Shade!

Yes, Penders still claims he legally owns Shade, and under advice from his lawyer still intends to put out an NFT of her to put his claim to the test. Yes, it's incredible that he still hasn't put out the damn NFT. It only needs to be one image, which he already drew! The market has collapsed!

Anyway, building an argument off the legal concept of estoppel, he says that if Sega continues to not do anything about his claims that he owns Shade then, in the eyes of the court, they'll be forfeiting their claims to Shade altogether. But they aren't going to do anything because they never wanted any part in the copyright battles in the first place, and to them Chronicles is a long dead asset not worth fighting over. Why bother trying to use Shade again and giving Ken a reason to take them back to court when they can just move on? It's not like this franchise is short on characters. And so Ken can say that Shade and Julie-Su are literally the same character, and if he owns Julie-Su then therefore he also owns Shade.

Our copyright system is, indeed, a nightmare. Chronicles should have been halfway to the public domain by now.

#4: Sega's oversight on the Archie comics!

Ken says that in his first year on the series Sega only requested some dialogue changes here and there through the editor. They never requested huge script changes, and also never spoke to Ken directly. After that first year, they stopped asking for dialogue changes altogether, and Ken "had a free hand to do pretty much whatever he wanted." Yeah, no surprise there.

He does, however, say that Archie's original deal with Sega stated that they weren't allowed to create ANY new Sonic characters without informing Sega. They would've needed to make a contract every single time to get Sega's approval and make it absolutely crystal clear that Sega owned the whole cast. And then Archie just... didn't do that! And didn't tell any of the freelance creatives not to come up with new characters! Had Archie followed this rule, the trajectory of the comics would have been completely different, but there also never would've been a copyright battle in the first place.

What a shitshow. Truly.

[famwhy]

Right Way Up (03)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: I know Steve's initials are on this chapter but that doesn't mean this chapter is focused on him, just a head's up.

prev part. masterlist. next part.

03. bring unto me altruism

trait: s.h.

"YOU know him?"

Your gaze wandered over the top of the BMW, breaking away from the (very sturdy-looking) back of Billy Hargrove to instead lock eyes with Steve Harrington—the latter of which had his own optics thoroughly narrowed in your direction.

"Huh?"

"The new guy—" he scoffed out, and you watched as his lips tugged down, brows furrowed very harshly, "—do you know him?"

Ah, shit. You have got to stop slipping up, Y/N.

"No." The response came out quick—and you turning around to face Billy again came quicker. He was still walking off—skinny jeans making it almost impossible to ignore his figure, very clearly outlining his... ahem just as they had in the show. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him, though."

"Ew, gross."

"Oh please, like you can talk."

"I can talk, actually, and—hey! Where are you going?" 

Midway through his sentence, you had started off towards the school, strutting after the dirty blonde with just as much feigned confidence in your walk as he.

It was rude to walk off halfway through a conversation but that was probably the least of your worries right now. You had a plan and if you wanted to execute it, you couldn't let Billy out of your sight.

"Y/N?"

"Just heading to class, don't worry. Walk Nancy to her first period then head to yours, 'kay? I'll be fine."

What exactly were you doing? Simple—remember the other day when you had no clue where you were going and had to rely on Steve to get you to your classes? Well, today, you could follow Billy Hargrove and, with any luck, you'd end up finding the counselor without having to ask for help and sounding suspicious.

Although, the last of anyone's guesses as to why you were acting peculiar would be that you came from a whole other world; one wherein they were all characters on a screen with almost three-quarters of them being completely irrelevant to the plot and, therefore, not even paid the littlest of attention to by the audience.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

You had many more worries running rampant in your mind, all loud and overwhelming, grand and all-consuming—almost to the point where you had bumped into the defined back of the 80s bad boy; a defined back which, all of a sudden, wasn't moving like it was just moments ago. 

Why did he stop?

The answer to that question was written clearly on the solid plate stuck to the blank, beaten door before you: COUNSELOR.

Your ears perked up as a jingle sounded from the metal knob, a strong, slightly-tanned hand wrapped firmly around it.

The door refused to budge.

"Ah shit," came the steady curse of the broad male. His body had shifted after that, and even an idiot could tell that he was about to turn around, so you did what any sane person would do—you flung yourself to the side and crashed your butt against one of the chairs snugly tucked against the wall.

Ouch... you'd think the chairs next to the guidance counselor's office would be a little more comfy to land on. 

If Billy had found your actions at all weird, he showed no signs of it—choosing, instead, to plop himself down on the seat next to you; pink lips pulled into a straight line and ocean-blue gaze as cool as steel. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then Billy's glass panes were sure-as-hell foggy beyond belief because you hadn't grasped a single glance at his soul.

But... you still knew what it looked like, the shattered crystals left behind in the wake of his past, ready to prick whoever dared come near with their razor-sharp edges—and that thought had your heart squeezing painfully, both in sympathy and guilt; sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances and... guilt for knowing so much about this boy who hadn't a single clue that you existed before... well, any of this.

"'S there a reason for your staring, princess?"

You blinked, all of a sudden being the recipient of a grin that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes of the sender.

"Huh?"—damn, caught lost in thought again—"Oh! Uh, you're my new neighbour, right?"

He arched a brow.

"Cherry Lane?" You added. "My brother told me someone moved in and you don't look like anyone I know."

His mouth stayed sewn shut and you chose to keep going.

"I think I saw you get out of your car earlier too, there was a California tag on it, is that where you used to live?"

Again. No words. Though, this time, his lips pulled taut and any sign of that previous expression had vanished.

"I always thought the Golden Coast was pretty." You weren't an idiot, you saw the change in his expression—the shift in his gaze—but you didn't let it stop you, continuing to speak with a small, gentle smile, "I'm thinking of going one day."

His eyes had softened a little at that, and he parted his lips—looking as though he was about to speak—when, all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the near-empty hall, and he closed them once more, raising a brow before sending a pointed look your way.

You felt it coming, the rumble deep down in the pits of your stomach, but you were helpless in stopping it—in containing it—and it arrived before you could even blink—

—a low growl.

Your fist rose up, a light cough leaving your mouth as your gaze awkwardly drifted to the side. "I, uh, didn't eat this morning."

Silence.

Then—to your utter surprise—soft, mirthful chuckles flooded your ears, causing you to whip your head around so fast, you almost sprained your poor neck. Beside you was a sight for sore eyes; one that resulted in your jaw dropping all the way to the floor and your eyes practically bulging out with how much they'd widened.

Billy Hargrove—the Billy Hargrove—was laughing.

His soft, golden curls bounced with each bout of snickers that left his mouth—beautiful, azure eyes crinkled and barely visible past his squinted lids—and yet—they still looked just as striking as usual, as mesmerising and jaw-dropping as on TV—if not, more so.

And then, it really sank in.

You made Billy Hargrove laugh.

And it wasn't some fake, obligatory giggle—nor was it that little, psychotic laugh he did when hysteria clouded his usually-cold gaze—no, it was full-blown, genuine laughter. And you caused it.

That thought had your chest swelling with a lot more pride than it probably should've—

"What's up with the tattoo?"

The question left his mouth much more comfortably than his previous words, flowing out with a small, slightly-smug quirk of his lips, and it took you a moment to register the fact that he had stopped chuckling, his gaze having drifted down—specifically, towards your wrist.

You trailed his gaze, finding yourself being met with the three, thick lines that had been there since the day you arrived in this world and—unsure of why they were there yourself—you shrugged. "Dunno, I think I got it while blackout drunk once."

Something about your response must've been funny because he officially chuckled for the second time since meeting you. "I didn't know you country folk knew how to party that hard."

Now, you might've not been from Hawkins yourself but... something about the way he said that had your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, and you sprung up from your seat, the underside of your thighs suddenly being greeted by cold air.

"Watch it. We can party just as hard as you Calis."

Your pupils grew shaky as you stood there, watching the next set of his actions with a tingling feeling deep down in your stomach.

One hand on his denim-clad knee, defined biceps flexing as he slowly rose up—your eyes rising with him. And as he took a step closer to you—lips twitching further up with a glint in his eyes you couldn't quite discern—you found yourself starting to slowly lose your breath, hands growing just the slightest bit clammy with the sudden blaze of active nerves you were struck with.

"Yeah?"

You gulped. "Yeah."

You felt hyper-aware as a rough, sun-kissed hand slid around your waist—fitting perfectly against the curve of your back, slowly dragging you closer, and sending a flurry of pleasant tingles straight up your spine to meet with the group that started to steadily arise in your chest; a chest that was mere millimetres from the thin, cotton material that covered his own.

Then, he leaned towards your ear, lips grazing the lobe as he whispered—a sultry lull bleeding into his tone—"Why don't you show me just how hard you can party, huh?"

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat but—before you could fret over what he'd say next, how he'd respond to your silly, little fumble—a 'click!' sounded from your side, and you threw yourself straight out of his sturdy arms quicker than a bolt of lightning—just in time, too, for the face of an older woman emerged from within the office not even moments later.

"Ah," the lady nodded, "you must be William."

Your eyes flitted over to him just in time to catch the way his jaw ticked.

"It's Billy, actually." And when he responded, his voice came out cold, different to the playful lilt it held just moments before.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the name struck a nerve.

"Ah, my bad. Would you like to come in and grab your schedule, Billy?"

He didn't respond but did as she asked, brushing past you to walk into the smaller room, only sharing a brief few seconds of eye-contact as he walked past—but those brief few seconds were enough to grant you just a tiny glimpse into the thunderous storm hidden within the pools of his irises—

—and as the door shut behind him, your lips tugged down.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the way his muscles seemed to tense up at the mention of California, freeze in what you could safely assume was caused by his longing to return to the freedom of his home state.

To be forced to depart from your home was nothing new, but you truly felt for Billy and his circumstances. His dad was more than hard on him—he was downright abusive, and Billy was forced to endure it without a single soul in his corner to help him through it, to guide him down the right path and teach him how to break out of the cycle of abuse he was forced into upon being born.

He was only eighteen. A goddamn child. He shouldn't have had to go through what he did.

He should've had the chance to redeem himself.

But that chance was squandered in Season 3, ripped from him akin to how his life was—a grotesque limb of mixed flesh having pierced through his chest, several other messed-up tentacles latched painfully onto his sides, bleeding him dry, draining the life from his eyes.

He didn't deserve to die.

Officially bummed-out by your own trail of thoughts, you heaved out a sigh before your ears perked up at a familiar 'click!' and your head snapped to the door again.

Out came Billy, the smug twitch of his lips back on his face—it was so comfortably situated there, in fact, that if any other person had seen it, they'd have assumed it was there the whole time.

But, despite him looking perfectly fine as he walked out of the old office, you still felt the urge to fly into his arms and wrap him in an embrace filled to the brim with promises; promises to at least provide him some level of support for what he was going through and what he would go through. Though, unlike with Eddie, you couldn't act upon it.

See, Billy and Eddie were two completely different people—where Eddie had brushed off your sudden hug quite easily—happily welcomed it, even—Billy would definitely question it, especially considering the fact that he didn't even know who you were.

And so, although it took all of your willpower, you refrained from throwing yourself onto him—choosing, instead, to stand still as he sauntered over, fingers rising up to brush against your shoulder gently; teasingly.

"See ya 'round, princess."

Instantly, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures erupted in your stomach, sending tingles through your body—up your spine to seize you at your throat, clawing into your windpipe and rendering you motionless in astonishment and awe and—

Was it just you or was it getting hot in here?

"Y/N?" You blinked, attention turning to the dark-haired female suddenly stood before you. "What are you doing here?"

Forcing yourself to forget that... whatever that was, you let a small, sheepish smile curve onto your lips. "Actually, miss, do you mind if I ask for a reprint of my schedule?"

"A reprint?" She rose a brow, arms slowly folding over her chest. "I thought you already had it memorised."

"Oh, uh,"—cue a small, nervous giggle—"you see, it kinda like... slipped my mind, y'know? And I already lost my old one so... can I have that reprint?"

She stood there for a little while longer—letting you really bask in the glory of her heavy judgement—before finally heaving out a sigh through her nose, sounding like she just aged up another ten years as she spun on her heel, full, brown curls bouncing after her.

The ground was smooth, friction practically non-existant as you rocked on your heels, awaiting the piece of paper with bated breath. The ticks of the clock suddenly didn't seem so much like white noise anymore as impatience furrowed your brows and your teeth jutted out, sinking a little into your bottom lip in anticipation.

Then, with a loud, echoing, "Y/N!"—someone had called out to you, but their voice was too high-pitched to be the one you were looking to hear—not to mention the fact that it came from the hall to your right as opposed to the office in front of you.

Your head whipped around just in time to have your whole body jerk a little as a girl skidded to an abrupt stop right next to you, her brown, soft-looking hair bouncing with an almost unnecessary amount of volume.

In her hands were several pieces of bright orange paper, all inked with a few words you couldn't quite make out—not without squinting at least.

"Hey!"

"Uh, hey..."

Who the hell was this again?

"How have you been? You haven't been to practice for a while now, the girls are pretty worried." As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand behind her ear and you squinted—trying to figure out where you'd seen her in the show.

"Oh, uh, I've just been a little sick, that's all."—seriously, who was this girl?—"I'm fine now though."

"That's great to hear!" She beamed, though her smile didn't quite seem to reach her eyes. "Listen, I'm having this party on Halloween and... I wanted you to be the first invite."

She extended one hand—flyer fit snugly between her fingertips—and you reached out, wrapping your fingers around the other end before she released it.

Eyes falling down, you took in the words written in... well, you didn't even know what font that was: TINA'S HALLOWEEN BASH. Come and get Sheet Faced.

Oh, so this was Tina.

"You'll be there, right?"

Your eyes flew back up and you were met with her intense gaze, swirling with a desperate, expectant plea you were almost saddened to see.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'll be there."

If anyone saw the way her shoulders fell and the muscles on her face relaxed at your words, they would've assumed you took some sort of heavy anvil off her shoulders, freeing her of some sort of imaginary weight that was supposedly weighing her down.

"Thank you," she breathed out, voice practically inaudible over the air leaving her lungs.

Damn, were you that influential?—so much so that your presence would make or break a party?

"No problem?" 

If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what to think of Tina—her character wasn't very explored in the show considering the fact that her role was very minor, the only thing she was really used for was the Halloween bash. But just from these few minutes with her alone, you could tell she was someone who heavily valued reputation.

"Okay, well, I should go," her voice pierced through your thoughts. "I'm thinking of inviting the new kid."

You parted your lips—about to say goodbye—when she twirled around and took off running, not even bothering to spare another glance your way.

Rude.

But as your gaze drifted down to the piece of paper in your hands once more, you found yourself uncaring of her rather unorthodox departure—too busy thinking about... something else.

"Y/N, here's your schedule."

Ah, nevermind the bash, you had your schedule now. You could finally know where you were meant to be for each period—albeit, it would take you a while to actually find the places but at least you knew what subjects you were meant to be in during the week. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Speaking of class, you were long overdue for your first period—

—and your teacher seemed to agree on that too, judging by the harsh glare situated on his face as soon as your sheepish form walked through the door. But hey, could he blame you? No, you were just trying to find your way around this stupid maze of a school.

Luckily, getting to your second class was much easier seeing as you passed it on your way to the first—but that didn't make it any less difficult to have to sit through. You were in Stranger Things—for fuck's sake!—what the hell did Newton's Third Law have to do with it?

You weren't ashamed to admit that you didn't pay attention to any of the other classes leading up to lunch—nor were you opposed to confessing the huge sigh of relief you let out once the long break period finally arrived, because—c'mon—who the hell paid attention to class when they just got transported to another world?

Not you.

So yes, you were currently happily strolling through the halls with your arms crossed over your books as you hugged said items to your chest, no sign of Steve in sight—but, you did catch a glimpse of a very familiar Lion's mane by a set of grey lockers in the corner of your eye.

"Eddie!"

Your voice must've come suddenly because he jumped as soon as you called out to him, head turning your way and one hand situating itself above his heart after he saw you. "Oh, Y/N!"

Your lips twitched up at just the sight of him. "What happened to 'sweetheart'?"

"Oh, uh, you want me to call you that? In front of all these people?"

And just like that, your lips tugged down. "Of course, why would that be a problem? Unless you're uncomfortable with it yourself—in which case, you don't have to call me by it."

Immediately, his head shook from side-to-side, messy hair bouncing crazily along with it. "No, no, not at all... sweetheart."

You'd be lying if you said that the nickname didn't garner a reaction from you; didn't result in your chest swirling with a blazing warmth.

Though, it also seemed to result in the jaw of the person stood next to him dropping to the floor; the same person you had just noticed was there in the first place. He had hair that was just as curly as Eddie's, but—unlike the male you knew—his was cut shorter, barely reaching past his ears really.

You knew this guy, he was one of Eddie's friends.

What was his name again? It started with a G. Let's see... Gavin..? No... Gary..? No...

Oh!

"Gareth right?" Relief washed through your insides when his head nodded, eyes wide and seeming to look through you, almost as if he couldn't even believe you were there, "It's so nice to meet another friend of Eddie's!"

"Another?" He seemed to have shot out of his trance at that, and it wasn't long before he gave you an incredulous look, gaze flickering over from you to Eddie, to you to Eddie, over and over again.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulled on the other male's arm and yanked him to the side—not even 3 feet of you—before resuming, "You're friends with the Queen Bee? How the hell did that happen?"

"You think I know?!"

Eddie's response was enough to garner a chuckle from you, causing both boys to quickly return their gazes to your form. Before they could comment on their fuck-up however, another voice came bellowing down the hall, calling out to you.

"Y/N!" 

Unlike with Gareth before, you recognised that pretty face paired with those luscious ginger strands of hair straight away. How could you not? You had practically seen a thousand edits of them along with the 'Chrissy Wake Up' song on TikTok. Kinda hard to forget her after the Internet did its magic.

Though, it wasn't exactly unpleasant to be meeting her, and so, you gave her as bright a smile as you could muster. "Chrissy! Hey!"

"Hi!" She beamed right back at you, but unlike Tina, Chrissy's smile genuinely reached her glinting eyes, even going as far as adorably crinkling them up a little. "Tina said you were feeling fine now, do you mind coming to practice today? Only if you're okay! I know you've been sick so take as much rest as you need and don't feel pressured."

How the hell could you say no to that?

"Yeah, okay, sure! I'll come with you to practice."

You weren't sure how it was possible, but she seemed to light up even further at that, almost blinding you like the little ball of sunshine she was.

In fact, she was so distracting, you almost forgot the presence of the two boys dressed in a completely different colour pallet to you. Keyword: almost.

"Looks like that's my cue." You turned their way—if only to save your eyesight from genuinely deteriorating due to the light that was Chrissy. "It was nice meeting you, Gareth. Good to see you again, Eddie."

Just before departing, you ghosted your fingers over the covered shoulder of Eddie, wiggling them about like you had done to Steve just the day prior; a signature goodbye, if you will.

And as you walked down the halls, you picked up on one last thing coming from Gareth's mouth... one last thing that was enough to drill your feet straight into the ground.

"Eddie? Eddie, wake up!"

That phrase... 

Flashes of Season 4 infiltrated your gaze; of the unfortunate victims that had their lives stripped from them; of the very girl stood next to you's body flying up, limbs distorting as they snapped irregularly, eyes not even having the pleasure of losing light with how unjustly they were gauged out from her.

Had you messed up somehow?

Had the events of Season 4 ended up being triggered too early by your mere existence?

The questions overwhelmed you—flooded through your senses and clogged up your airways with their untimely arrival. You were a puppet and they were the strings, ushering you to turn around; to rid yourself of the wool pulled over your eyes—of the blissful ignorance surrounding your form—and, helpless to their influence, you did exactly that.

Slowly, your head reared backwards—the room spinning around you—and your eyes were greeted by a welcome sight; one that breathed life back into your limbs.

Eddie stood there—eyes still very much on his face—with a familiar, light blush spread across his cheeks. Even as his form was being rapidly shook by his dear friend, he remained still, gaze trained on you. He only seemed to have snapped out of it after making proper eye-contact with you.

Two blinks. A small, shy raised hand. And a tiny wave.

False alarm. He was just flustered.

It made sense, your previous actions could be interpreted as flirting after all—and to be honest, you didn't really mind if it was (again, the Eddie Munson)—but, you'd be lying if you said he didn't just give you a bit of a scare there.

The sentence that just came out of Gareth's mouth was the very same, infamous sentence uttered by Eddie's lips just before the first death of Season 4—a rather brutal death involving the very ball of sunshine that was just tasked to retrieve you.

Speaking of that ball of sunshine—

"Y/N, you coming?"

You blinked, quickly returning Eddie's wave before whipping your head back around to face the ginger next to you once again.

You had to admit, it was very surreal coming face-to-face with people from the show who were meant to die—it felt kinda like seeing a ghost, and a part of you (just a teensy-weensy, little part) found it... well... unsettling.

But, that was just a small part.

"Yeah. Let's go."

You shook off the residual fear that lingered from that little moment before finally continuing to follow Chrissy down the hall. 

The whole walk was full of her detailing you on the failed practices of the cheerleaders in your absence. Apparently, Heather tried and failed to do a cartwheel into a back-flip as part of one of the routines before dramatically throwing her pompoms to the ground and angrily muttering that you could do it instead.

You had no idea who Heather was but you wished you were there to see it.

Oh, and—with you gone—it seemed as though a lot of the girls had taken to slacking off, opting to gaze longingly at the sweaty boys that played basketball just across the Gym instead of actually being productive.

You doubted that would get any better with Billy around now.

"Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice sliced through your thoughts and you blinked, finally noticing that you arrived at the Gym. "Look who finally decided to show up."

You recognised that puffed-up, blonde hair from the first day of your arrival, the stance she took on being an almost-exact replica of the one back in the infirmary.

"Finally done punching the daylights out of some random freak in school?" She scoffed out.

"Sarah," Chrissy hissed from beside you, "don't say that. Y/N's been sick recently."

"Sick of being just as aggressive as her brother?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

Before you could retort with your own defense, however, someone else had piped in—that person being a brunette with rather short, straight hair, "You're talking like you don't wanna fuck him."

Uh—what?

"Jenny!" Your eyes flitted over to the blonde just in time to catch her reddened cheeks.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Whatever, let's just..."

Sarah trailed off there, jaw hanging open as her eyes seemed to land on something not within your immediate eyesight. And when you found yourself following her gaze—you located the subject of her interest, the lack of words suddenly making sense.

Golden curls you had the pleasure of seeing up close just this morning were farther now, having just barely passed through the entrance. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as the electricity in his eyes zapped through the Gym before finally landing on you, lips edging up into what you could only call a smirk.

It wasn't long before he sauntered over, practically demanding all of the attention in the room with his walk; attention which was happily handed over to him on a sleek, silver plate.

"All this time I've been calling you princess... when you've really been a queen," as he spoke—voice as husky as ever—a teasing lilt laced into his tone, intensifying his gaze and overwhelming you with his suffocating presence. "Why didn't you say anything, dollface?"

Breathe, Y/N, breathe. Stand your ground. 

You tried to, you really did—but, the only way you'd be able to keep your composure right now was by closing your eyes and pretending you didn't see him—

—so you did exactly that.

Your lashes fluttered shut and you envisioned a blank sea of darkness before uttering out a response, "Didn't think it was important."

"Yeah?" Now, while you might not have been able to see him, you could still very well hear him, and his voice was nothing short of the perfect mixture between smooth and rough and—

Stop. It.

For your own sake—and for fear of further falling apart—you chose not to say anything and only nodded.

That was a mistake.

Instant regret hit you square in the face when you felt the gentle touch of a few, rough fingers against your chin, tilting your head just enough to rest at an angle before a surge of warm air tickled your lashes.

And as he spoke—lips almost grazing your closed lids—those familiar flying pests made their home in your stomach, "Where'd those pretty eyes of yours go? Didn't seem to stop wanting to use them this morning."

Damn him and his smoothness.

In an effort to continue to save face, you resorted to squeezing your eyes even further shut—paying no mind to the blissful warmth slowly coating your form or the teasing snickers that left the bad boy's mouth; snickers which you could practically feel the vibrations of.

"What's the matter? Have I rendered Miss Queen Bee speechless?" 

Your vision was dark but you could still see the smug smirk on his face. Just wait until you gathered yourself, you were gonna make him ten times more flustered than you—just wait.

The light clearing of a throat suddenly served as a reminder that you two weren't the only ones in the room and you found yourself feeling a little... cold when Billy pulled away.

Cold? Ugh, once again, damn him and his smoothness.

Finally deeming it safe to do so, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light once more before you were finally able to make out the slowly-shrinking figure of Billy Hargrove. But just as he reached the entrance of the Gym once more, he paused, one hand firmly gripping onto the frame as he called out to you over his shoulder.

"Keep your bed nice and warm for me, will ya, dollface?"

Your jaw dropped.

Someone else then said something along the lines of 'oh my god' but—if you were being honest—you were barely able to hear it over the echo of Billy's snickers as he walked away, completely amused by your reaction no doubt.

He was so unequivocally bold, you almost couldn't believe it.

"Uh, guys, I think I'm gonna take a raincheck on practice today." But, it seemed as though the other girls definitely could—judging by how the very girl who said this rushed right after Billy.

"Me too!"

"Yeah, uh, I think I'm feeling a little sick."

"Well, I, for one, am chasing up that boy."

"Not if I get him first!"

And as a majority of them rushed after the handsome male, you found yourself deadpanning.

"Bruh."

You definitely couldn't blame them though, the rest of your day was spent recalling all those scenes with him after all. Even Steve noticed your absent-mindedness in the last period of the day—trying several outlandish things to grab your attention that he only informed you of once the lesson was over.

You didn't even notice him waving his arms wildly in front of your face while the teacher's back was turned.

And even as you walked beside him, Nancy strutting ahead of the two of you after you'd picked her up from class, you still had your head roaming around in the clouds.

"Hey, Y/N?" 

You hummed, half-listening, half-not.

Steve then leaned further your way, shoulder brushing your own as he whispered against your ear. "Wish me good luck?"

You blinked up at him, having paid enough attention to scrunch up your nose in confusion and ask, "Good luck for what?"

"The dinner. At Barb's?" 

A few more blinks.

And then—

"Ohhhhh."

Nancy turned around at that, and Steve was quick to hush you. He only resumed talking when she faced forward once more—albeit, slower than she turned around.

"What are you doing? Trying to get me in trouble?!" His whisper came out harsh, and you winced a little.

"Alright, alright, gheez." 

His attitude seemed to be at an all-time high because he rolled his eyes after that. "I just... don't get why I have to go to this stupid dinner anyway."

"Steve." It was your turn to harshly whisper. "Don't say that. Nancy needs closure, this dinner is exactly that."

You felt for Steve just a tad bit, it wasn't his best friend that died after all (thank god for that) but that didn't mean he got to complain about attending a dinner his girlfriend wanted him to be at because he was there the night of the first attack; of the first murder.

See, Barbara (or Barb) had been Nancy's best friend—the two being practically attached by the hip—so of course the night she died would be one that Nancy deeply regretted, and of course she would want closure with the parents of her best friend. It just made sense.

In fact, the whole reason why she did any of what she did in Season 2 was so that she could inform Barb's parents (who still thought their child was out there somewhere) that their kid was, in fact, dead.

"Y/N, you there?"

Caught in a monologue? Seriously, Y/N? What are you, the main character?

"Yeah, I'm here."

Seeing as you were already outside and stood right by Steve's car—you slotted your hand between the cold of both the handle and the door before pulling it open, leaping straight in, and causing the whole vehicle to jerk in a symphony of loud clangs from sheer force.

"Hey! Careful!" It seemed like your music wasn't appreciated by Steve though.

"Relax. It's not like I broke it or anything—" feeling like messing with him—because duh—a smirk slowly twitched onto your lips, "—besides, it's excited to see me, aren't you, girl?"

Steve let out another hiss when you patted the seat a little too harshly—sounding akin to a pissed off feline which just made him seem less menacing and more adorable.

Ha, you tried, Steve, you tried.

The click of the passenger door drew your eyes over to Nancy's form, watching as her legs entered one at a time before she took a seat and turned your way—"We're dropping you off then heading straight over to Barb's."—then, turning to Steve, "Right, Steve?"

You could already hear the grumbled out 'yes' coming from him and you only sent him a grin seeping with amusement when he met your gaze through the rear-view mirror—your lips stretching further as he mouthed the words 'help me' with anguish in his eyes.

"You two have fun, yeah?"

You said the sentence to piss Steve off even further but when you caught a glimpse of the look on Nance's face, a pang shot straight through your chest.

Her eyes had this far-away look about them as her lips curved up by a very small amount—though there was no joy in it, only grief.

"Hey..." you placed one hand on the shoulder of her seat, using it to pull yourself forward as you furrowed your brows, worry clouding your gaze. "You alright?"

She sniffled a little before waving her hand and nodding in response. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Your lips tugged down and you shared a look with your best friend before he started the engine, breathing life into the vehicle as you slowly lowered your body back down onto the leather seat.

She wasn't fine; even without knowledge from the show, you could tell. She might not have been crying but her lip was definitely quivering a little and her eyes... well, they just weren't all... present in the moment.

But, she would be fine. And that was enough.

Besides, though it was cold to say, you had bigger things to worry about. Nancy would get help from Jonathan in order to come to terms with Barb's death—meanwhile, you had no one to help you out with all the spare knowledge you stored in your brain; with all the premonitions (if you could call it that) you were blessed with.

Perhaps it was time you started preparing for another bout with the demodogs—you were Steve's best friend, after all; that probably meant you'd most likely end up facing the dogs together with him later on in the Season.

"Y/N."

You perked up at the call of your name, shaking away the thoughts clinging to your brain.

"We're here."

Lo and behold, so it seemed you were, the familiar sidewalk leading up to your house being visible through the clear glass panes beside you.

Clicking open the door, you took one step out before swinging the rest of your body to follow after, and once you closed the door again, you walked over to the passenger-side window—shoes barely making a sound against the ground—before your knees bent down a little and you tapped lightly against the glass.

"Let the Hollands know I wish them the best, okay?" You offered a gentle smile to the girl sat before you, and she tried her best to muster one up in return.

"Okay..."

"See you guys." 

And with a brief wave, you quickly spun around and headed towards the relatively-normal house.

You now—thankfully—had keys of your own so there was no need to knock or anything. Well—it was more like you had them all this time but didn't know where they were and just so happened to find them the other day but—details, details.

After fiddling with the keys a little, you heard a 'click!' and pushed against the handle before entering, one hand moving behind you to carefully shut the door.

"I'm home."

Curt's voice was the first to greet you—albeit, not very genuinely. "Congratulations, want a trophy?"

Uh, yes, actually. You would very much like a trophy after coming back home in one piece in the world of Stranger Things.

"We're having pasta tonight!" Luckily, Cain's words were a lot more welcoming than the other brother.

So, as was your right, you ignored your second oldest brother in favour of responding to the first. "Ooh! Pasta?!"

You had to admit, his cooking the other night was rather good—okay, it was magnificent, you just didn't wanna admit it because you stormed off the other day before being able to properly finish it.

But now that you could—

Before you could finish that train of thought, three loud knocks resounded through the room, no doubt coming from the door behind you.

Huh.

Was that Steve? Did he forget to say something?

You lightly wrapped your palm around the handle, turning it slowly before the door was open once more, a sudden, light breeze hitting you square in the face—

—though, the breeze could never be more sudden than who you saw at the door.

It wasn't your swooshy-haired companion to greet you on the other side—no—but rather, an older woman with barely visible bags underneath her drooping eyes; eyes which seemed to have lost all light, almost appearing chillingly lifeless—

—well, that was until they lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh, Y/N! Baby! I've missed you so much!"

And as she threw herself onto your form—arms engulfing you wholly, emotionally—you found yourself blanking out for once, only one thought popping up in your head:

What. The. Fuck.

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly

Did Billy give you guys butterflies or what? 😏 (Srsly tho, I need to know if I'm writing him well—)

[cluelessrebel1988]

If I Ran The Zoo (or how I would plot out an Animorphs TV/streaming series if I had the time/ability/resources)

So this is something I've been kicking around in my head on-again, off-again for a couple years now, and I thought I'd put it out there, just for the lols (do people still say that?)

My thought process is for a 5 season arc, with each season being somewhere in the neighborhood of 13-15 episodes long, give or take. There would be a few changes with the order of things, and a few minor characters would play a bigger role. I'm not going to go episode by episode, but just sort of outline the big arcs for each season. I'm not in any way suggesting that this is the best way to do it, just that this is how I would do it.

Season 1

This season obviously would start the events of The Invasion and would primarily incorporate events/plot points from the first 10 books, including finding Ax in his crashed ship (though I would move that to either take place in the first episode, or in the second half of the two-part premiere), Tobais getting stuck in his hawk form (and getting an episode or two dedicated to him coming to terms with that), and introducing Erik and the Chee (Erik would be introduced as a friend of Marco's early in the season, with his identity as a Chee being revealed in the second half of the season).

The only major plot point from that run of the series I wouldn't put into play just yet is the reveal of Marco's mother as Visser One (although I would be very much establishing her through flashbacks, dreams, etc., so people will recognize her when Visser One does show up).

The main arc of the season would involve the Kandrona Ray and the events of The Stranger, with the team meeting the Ellimist and learning about the ray and its significance and plotting to take it down to try to end/expose the invasion. Erik and Ax tagteam providing info about the ray and its use, but it's the vision from the Ellimist that gives Rachel the final clue, again, as in the book, with that occuring at the end of the penultimate episode. The season finale is solely focused on devising and executing the plan to destroy the ray. The plan would succeed, which would prompt Visser One's return, revealing her host to be Marco's mother as the cliffhanger for the season.

Obviously, we would be exploring the kid's home lives more, with the relationship with their families and friends and the whole 'work-life balance' thing that comes with fighting a guerilla war against an alien invasion. Not to the point where they're having to fake illnesses to skip school every episode, but enough to show that it's putting a strain on their relationships. I would also explore Rachel's relationship with Melissa Chapman more and have Melissa be a bigger supporting character in the show. We'd also introduce Karen and Aftran in this season, revealing her to be a controller early on, but something that Cassie doesn't find out until the end of the season

Season 2

Season 2 would pick up a few weeks after season 1, as The Alien did with The Stranger. The kids learn that their hope that the invasion would reveal itself with the Kandrona ray destroyed were in vain and that Ax knew that. The premiere would largely follow the plot of that book, with the Animorphs attempting to integrate Ax into society and attempting to take the fight to Visser Three with the help of a Yeerk traitor, and Ax telling the others about the Law of Seerow's Kindness. Ax would get a lot of development this season, with the events of The Deception coming into play.

Tobias would help free the Hork-Bajir as in The Change and get his human form back as a morph, and the reveal that he is Elfangor's son would be included in this season as well (Obviously we're tapping into the Andalite Chronicles for flashbacks in at least one episode this season to help set that up).

Marco's main character arc would revolve around learning that his mother is Visser One, keeping it a secret, only to have the others find out later, thus incorporating The Predator and The Escape. Also Visser One is the big bad for the season, delving more into her conflict with Visser Three. The season would end with her supposed death following the Animorphs' thwarting of her plans

For Cassie, we cover the utilize adapted versions of The Departure and set up for The Sickness, with Karen/Aftran and Cassie perhaps getting trapped somewhere and forced to work together to get out of it, laying the groundwork for Aftran to be captured by Visser Three. The season finale would also center around the efforts to rescue Aftran.

Jake and Rachel will have arcs and roles to play in each of these stories as they each start to fall into their respective roles as leader and fighter, respectively. If they get their own arc, it would be around trying to save Tom specifically.

Additionally, Melissa is still around in her expanded role, but with a new friend: David, who would be introduced fairly early in the season in a recurring role (Melissa is also recurring at this point). She and David will have a B-plot where they become friends and are together when David finds the morphing cube, the discovery of which also occurs in the finale.

Season 3

Obviously, the primary source for the main arc of season 3 is the David Trilogy, with The Discovery in particular serving as the source for the season premiere. It plays out mostly the same, with the Animorphs learning that David and Melissa have the cube and plans to sell it online. They try to retrieve the cube before the two of them can attract the attention of the Yeerks, but ultimately fail, leading to the battle at David's house. They manage to get Melissa and David out of the house before they can be captured, and are forced to reveal themselves and tell them what's happening, essentially recruiting them into the Animorphs.

The events of the rest of the trilogy, with the threat to the UN summit or some similar event involving world leaders as a target that they have to keep the Yeerks from taking advantage of -- as well as with David and Melissa's reactions to being Animorphs -- would take up the majority of the plot this season. Obviously Melissa becoming an Animorph opens up some new potential for her arc, especially around her relationship with her dad and trying to come to terms with him being a controller (and the fact that Rachel has been keeping this a secret all along). She and David would have similar arcs around their parents being controllers, but while David ultimately turns against the Animorphs, Melissa does not (although David tries to convince her to). The season ends with the gang trapping David in a rat morph, as the books do.

One of Melissa's major character traits is her interest in technology, something she used to bond with her father over (working together to take things apart and then put them back together before be became a Controller to try to keep her safe) and I imagine her and Ax developing something of an awkward friendship as she tries to ask him about the morphing technology and other Andalite technology, with him being reluctant to share due to the Law of Seerow's Kindness. But, as he's grown closer with the Animorphs, he would eventually acquiesce and they would begin to bond. The two big relationships (Rachel and Tobias, and Cassie and Jake) also take major steps this season

The other major arc for the season involves other Andalites, incorporating The Arrival and The Other, with the reveal that other Andalites are on earth and some are there to help...or are they? The season would also end with Tobias getting captured by the Yeerks to begin the laying of the groundwork for the discovery that the Animorphs are not, in fact, Andalite bandits.

Season 4

The events of The Illusion and The Test would be adapted for the season premiere, including the introduction of the Yeerk resistance (led in this series by Karen/Aftran) and Tobias's capture and torture, with the main difference being that it is Tom (who has largely been a secondary or tertiary villain thus far) being the one who conducts the torture. During the interrogation, Tobias lets something slip that most of the controllers in the room don't pick up on, but Tom does, leading him to investigate and setting up for the finale, which would be largely and adaptation of The Diversion, with the race against time to save their families taking up the majority of the episode. Melissa is able to save her parents, her father proving to be an asset in the final season with his knowledge of how Yeerk technology works.

This season as a whole would focus on escalating the war between the Animorphs and the Yeerks. The stakes become higher, as are tensions following David's betrayal. Visser One returns, learning that Marco is one of the Animorphs and we incorporate the events of Visser, seeing the Animorphs rescue her.

Following Tobias's capture and torture, Rachel becomes more angry and vengeful, setting up for her arc over the final season (we've seen hints of her violent streak over the series up to this point, but it gets more intense this season).

Season 5

With their secret out, the Animorphs regroup in the Hork-Bajir valley and try to figure out their next move. The final arc of the series would play out largely how it does over the course of the final books, with the team recruiting more Animorphs to help them with their mission, and even trying to recruit government and military officials to aid in the fight. Tom gets the morphing cube, adding controllers with the ability to morph (other than the newly appointed Visser One) to the threat against the Animorphs. The final battle would be a multi-pronged attack, with the bombing of the Yeerk Pool being part of the final assault and not a separate battle.

Rachel gets aboard the blade ship and kills Tom before being killed herself. In an effort to make up for the harm he caused, Hedrick Chapman sacrifices himself to both ensure the Yeerk Pool bomb goes off and to save Melissa one final time (the pair of them were in charge of building/detonating it, along with Ax), and Jake orders the flushing of the Yeerk Pool on the the Pool ship, alienating Erek and the rest of the Chee going forward. All of this is in the penultimate episode.

The series finale follows the aftermath of the war in The Beginning, and, as the books did, the series would end with Jake, Tobias, and Marco (and probably Melissa) being recruited to help save Ax from an as-yet unknown threat.

And there you have it, my outline for how an Animorphs series could/should play out. As I said at the start, this is just my idea and others might have different thoughts about what order the arcs should go in and what significant changes (if any) would be made. Please be kind with any criticisms, and if you'd like to share your thoughts with me, my inbox is open. I also did a fancast for the series a few years ago if anyone's curious about who would play who

[clockwayswrites]

I saw that you had some very in depth organization methods when planning your fics. I am working on one now and realized how much I need something like that. Could you give an explanation and tips on how you organize your ideas?

Oh, sure! I can try my best.

For me, the desire to actually write it usually comes with a scene (or few scenes) I need to bring into existence. I don't care if it's the first scene or last or in the middle, I let myself write it! I know some people don't like writing out of order because they feel it's a 'waste' if they have to change it when they get there, but for me it's never a waste because it helped me find a mood!

I put those scenes down and then try to build a fic around them. If it's a short fic (>15K) I just start working. Medium to long I outline! I like to write the scenes I have and want out on cut up post it notes and this allows me to physically move things around, find the plot gaps, and write down the scene that I wan to go there!

(image id: post it notes cut into thirds with a scene summary written on each one. Some are grouped together as chapters and there are holes where I feel there needs to be more).

3. I take each of those scenes and make a placeholder file in my writing program! I use Scrivener so this is really easy to do because they have an outline function. Before I used scrivener, I would write them out in a doc and then also copy and past it around the parts I had written.

In Scrivener, I can also color code them and/or use the status to say if it's started, written, edited, etc! You could do this in another program by highlighting the outline different colors.

4. As you are writing, remember your outline might change! You might have scenes that no longer work (Ex lbfd I had a whole Tim & Danny bonding bit where Danny revealed he knew about the Bats I cut cause it seemed clunky) or you might need to add bits for a better flow! (Ex one chapter of lbfd split into three, but then other things got cut). And this is okay! Some things you can't know until it's written.

The more you do this the better you'll get! My first big fic (150+K) doubled in chapters and tripled in length! I needed a lot more time on the slow parts than I thought and added some things based on reader comments. For lbfd, even though things changed, chapter 22(?) was still chapter 22 when I got to it!

Hopefully this helps!

[goblinhoursinsomniaramblings]

me last week: jesus i am bad at the task i have set out to do. what am i thinking, trying to write mpreg of the type i like. i'm just not good enough to pull this off so other people would like it--

me today: *jams out an entire part 1 in one evening after five drafts just out of queer spite and self-indulgence* be queer do thoughtcrimes

Part 1 of the Clone Gestation AU. expect other parts to have more characters, plots and dialogue, but I need the setup out or I'll feel weird about the other completely self-indulgent scenes percolating in my head.

Also: do not go into this expecting real science, you're getting comic book science at most.

In Vlad’s defense, the theory had been sound.

Every ghost had a… he had heard many terms, but in his research he had gone with ‘ectonucleus’ rather than the more colloquial ‘core’. Even his Plasmius form was no different, a shell of ectoplasm projected from an organ simple enough to barely count as such. Vlad’s human mind drove it, but many ghosts lacked a living brain to truly take advantage of their power. One of the many reasons he kept pulling off so many of his schemes plans in full. Ghosts seemed to be all emotion and obsession, no thought or patience.

The ectonucleus had many ectobiological functions. It processed ectoplasm, functioned as a rudimentary nervous system in response to stimuli, and most importantly for his current project, it stored what passed for genetic information–except instead of copying it into trillions of individually specialized cells, it took the information as a whole and shaped raw ectoplasm around it. Ghosts could even use it reproductively, something Vlad had decided to skip past with the cloning.

Though, admittedly, some of the early readings on the control subject’s cohesion had been… worrying. Which shouldn’t have been possible. The cloning tank was full of ectoplasm that had been subjected to so many layers of filtration he could legitimately label it as surgical-grade. There shouldn’t have been a problem making a stable filtration barrier between the ectonucleus and the surrounding ectoplasm.

He hissed as he felt a painful lurching from his ghost half, leaning against the occupied cloning tank with one arm. This had been occurring with regularity since he had first seen the decline in the results, and it really was not helping him solve the problem! His Plasmius side, as powerful as it made him, was maddeningly psychoreactive–it wasn’t the first time it had thrown one of these tantrums, and if it kept this up he would dig out those schematics for–

He felt it, before he saw it. A probe of something too aimless and unformed to be curiosity. He looked up to see the little ectonucleus up against the wall of the tank, barely outlined by a little firefly glow, as though it could tell he was there.

It couldn’t, obviously. It was only reacting in response to stimuli, extending feelers of presence, for lack of a better term, to decide if the way ahead was safe. There was no way it could fumble blindly to him unless–

A somewhat less painful lurch in his chest answered his thought. Ah. Of course. Ghost ‘biology’ strikes again.

No. He knew what this was now, absolutely not. He was already too emotionally invested in the outcome of this project, and the control subject was already showing signs of eventual non-viability–

And the smaller proto-presence flickered away. He felt a jolt as he tried to figure out what happened, but his eyes soon caught the faint glimmer of the cloned ectonucleus, on the far side of the tank.

Alright. This was… ideal. It was better to keep some distance while the process was still unstable.

And if his ghost half was unhappy about it, it would be so much worse if he let himself get too attached close.

***

Years later, when Vlad discovers what, exactly, ghosts are powered by, he will think back on this and laugh for far, far too long.

***

The ectonucleus doesn’t seem to notice him if he’s far enough away, even when Plasmius tries to signal it. Still, inevitably he will brush by the tank, or work near to it, taking readings on the purity of the medical ectoplasm or checking the integrity of the tank, and when he looks up–

“Again? Really?!”

The little proto-ghost seems to press itself against the tank at the sound of his voice. He knows it is just responding because it isn’t exposed constantly to his voice, making him new, worth investigation. But Plasmius seemed to respond like it was cute, and oh, he had no idea his ghost half had that particular set of feelings.

(‘Sublimation’ would become a very familiar word to him one day.)

He could reinforce the tank. Make it impossible for the unformed, barely-there clone to notice him. Maybe, in another life, he does exactly that.

Instead, he heaves a sigh, and decides he will simply have to make his voice less novel. Didn’t he hear somewhere, once, that speaking to still-forming humans was necessary for development? The ectonucleus had yet to project a human body, but it was a clone of a halfa, so perhaps–

He would have to keep an eye on the medical readings to see if this was pop science (pointless, in other words) or was worth doing, but… how badly could he compromise himself, talking to something with all the personality of an amoeba?

***

“... and that is why I even bothered to show up! Honestly, Jack should count his lucky stars he’s worth more to me alive than dead right now!”

The proto-clone glimmered at the steady flow of Vlad’s voice. It truly didn’t seem to matter what he spoke of, it just… wanted to be near his voice. Even when Plasmius didn’t overtly signal it.

It was heartwarming distressing how much he loved her already for that craved even that level of attention. How lonely he felt every time he visited Jack and Maddie, and came back with nothing to show for it but more envy fury over what he never had the chance to have.

Originally, the plan had been to introduce a combination of subliminal training, organic nutrients, and a rapid growth solution to the tank to get the clone close to Daniel’s age and development. But…

“Jack kept blathering on about old stories of Jasmine and Daniel. Showed me pictures. Showed me baby pictures.”

He had realized just how much he would be skipping. How much he would still feel had been taken from him.

He had quietly struck that stage from the planning before sitting with the tank for the proto-clone’s regular enrichment session. Not only would it have made him thoroughly depressed angry to falsify an entire childhood for the clone he wouldn’t actually get to experience… he had the feeling doing the full accelerated growth regimen would have irreversibly worsened the cohesion damage.

It hadn’t exactly improved, but regular stimulation had greatly lessened the rate of damage over time. The problem came down to the filtration barrier. It was the equivalent to a cell wall, and ghosts usually had a much stronger one around their ectonuclei than his the control subject was capable of forming.

He hunched forward a little when Plasmius again made his chest lurch unpleasantly, hand rising unbidden to his sternum. Oh yes, he was fully aware of his ghost half’s input on the subject. Instincts were a powerful driving force.

When a ghost reproduced, there was a stage where the unformed proto-ghost would parasitize the parent’s core, and siphon ectoplasm to produce a stable filtration barrier. From there, they could generally be removed and placed somewhere safe so the parent could get back to their usual life as it finished developing, filtering the ambient atmosphere of the ghost zone until it had enough power to project a body. Even into maturation, a ghost could generally fend off destabilization by placing their essence into something, or even someone, formed of ectoplasm until they could reform on their own, a reflex honed at that very early stage.

Vlad was beginning to believe his instincts were responding to a ghost too underdeveloped to form its own barrier. Something it might only be able to learn by example.

Vlad leaned his head back against the tank. He had not wanted this step to even be on the table. The control subject was still damaged, with no guarantee he could reverse it. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t get attached without a guarantee of viability and this…

He let himself finally address it. This may not have been the same as the human equivalent, but it was so close it was impossible not to draw a parallel. It was essentially a ghost pregnancy, and the intensity of his ghost self’s psychoreactive nature practically guaranteed he would be thoroughly attached to this adorable awful little amoeba.

Perhaps he could do this in stages. Yes. Just a little at a time, until it could form its own barrier. Then, back in the tank.

“You are entirely too demanding. This is how children end up spoiled rotten, you know,” he scolded the single-celled nuisance.

It had the nerve to just glitter back at him. Such an attitude already.

He wondered if it was too late to go back to that tank-insulation plan.

It absolutely was.

***

He changed into Plasmius for the extraction. It seemed more conducive to holding something crafted purely from ectoplasm. He had barely placed his hand in the tank when the ephemeral little thing swam to him, settling in his palm snugly. He went intangible, and it hesitantly sank into his hand, then poked around, gradually finding its way to his own ectonucleus.

The effect was nearly instantaneous. A strand of pink energy wound around the little proto-ghost, and it let itself be cradled as the energy gently wove around it, flashes of light from within signaling a repeating cycle of weave, dispel, weave. Teaching it the ghost equivalent to homeostasis.

Now, however, came the real test. He transformed back to human…

And he still felt the new dimension to his so-called ‘core’, almost equivalent to a heartbeat. It was capable of existing flush with Plasmius, wherever his ghostly side rested when he was human again.

This felt promising. He didn’t exactly trust that.

He was so very tired of broken promises.

***

He still spoke to it. It had become a bonding exercise habit by this point. He would be sending email, or reading, or combing through footage from his many invasive discreet hidden cameras, and find himself talking as though it were listening. He listened back, as well, for the steady pulse of energy in, energy scattered, outlining the gradually strengthening core ectonucleus of his child control subject.

The only step left was to remove it as a ghost would and see if it learned to make a barrier on its own.

***

He may have put off the removal too long.

Those early reports of cohesion damage may have swayed his decision a little more than he wanted to admit. It was just easier… not knowing, until he was certain it could do this very basic thing. He would be staring at the tank, having gone to his lab specifically to see if it could function away from him like it would as a developing ghost and some new variable would come to him.

He should do a full cycling of the medical ectoplasm, just to be sure it’s as clean as possible for reintroduction.

He should make sure he has some emergency supplies on hand for his ghost side, just in case Plasmius fights him on this subconsciously and damages something.

He should go over lab security just in case, check the footage.

Really, it’s been too long since the tanks had a full maintenance cycle.

He had felt his ectonucleus shifting position a little. He needs to wait until it settles for a while.

(He really should have paid attention to where, exactly, his core was traveling to.)

On, and on, just him and the pulse of ectoplasm signaling all was, currently well. Although it did catch his attention that his ghost self seemed to be siphoning off some ectoplasm somewhere, even when he was human, that wasn’t accounted for in the energy transfer of barrier formation. It seemed to be evenly distributed over his entire body, some odd ectoplasmic underpinning to his circulatory system.

Initially, he just wrote it off as some sort of mapping of his human body. After all, the proto-clone was a halfa. It would need some extra education for when it projected a human body. There were some ‘vessels’ that terminated abruptly, but he couldn’t see to what purpose. Maybe it was waiting for something else to be finished, once it got enough of a boost.

He would have plenty of time to get the child control subject back in the tank, given the rate of growth.

***

He hadn’t been expecting a flare-up of his ecto-acne. He certainly wasn’t expecting it to behave extremely differently from every time previously. Truthfully, he only guessed what it was because on examination in the mirror, his eyes were glowing and spots appeared on his face. Itchy, awful, conspicuous spots.

No ectoplasm in them, however. Odd.

Almost like something was siphoning it off before it could–

***

By the time the Fentons helped him confirm his suspicion–and was that ever an awkward encounter–it was far too late to correct course. Well, technically, he could have worked something out. If anyone could have, he could.

‘Would’ was another matter entirely, though. Blame loneliness, a long-thwarted desire for family, age, loneliness, sentimentality, loneliness.

If going from a ghost pregnancy to an actual pregnancy was the price to pay for finally feeling connected to someone?

He had finally gone long enough without to do anything for that feeling. Up to and including planning the murder of anyone stupid brave enough to tell him otherwise.

Though he would have appreciated a warning about the word ‘clone’ no longer applying.

***

@vladdyissues I DID THE FUCKING THING i have no idea if you'll find introspective yet still in denial vlad being tsundere about wanting to be pregnant and getting hopelessly attached to as yet unnamed Dani nearly as appealing as I do but I still thank you for prodding me to do this fucker regardless

-manifesting a complete lack of fucks for the gender binary through a cis male character who would willingly be pregnant to have a kid ain't the usual way but fuck it, that's my coping method right now

[bitletsanddrabbles]

But What If I Wasn't Rich?

Right. So. With revisions on Stolen Child going well, I've tried to start gearing up for my next big project, which is what I'd planned on working on this month. It's a very different tone - lots of zany hijinks with a group of idiots going through the jungles of India looking for biologically impossible flora - so I figured it shouldn't need too much in the way of research, especially since I'm avoiding politics like the plague. Don't know how much I'll manage, mind, since the only reason I can think of for Thomas's cousin to be in Bombay is military, but I'm pretty confident I can just say that and let my historically well informed audience fill in their own blanks while I concentrate on more important things, like cobras that spit hydrochloride acid at people*.

For all of that, though, I am having problems right off the bat with the research. Why? Because I need to get a disgraced-with-no-reference Thomas from Downton Abbey to Bombay, and I need to do it via a land route (or mostly at any rate), because he needs to start the whole thing off by crashing into someone in a train station. I suppose it could technically be at a port, but the train station just seems more likely given that the person in question is trying to get to the Congo.

This should not be difficult to figure out, right? A couple of Google** searches and you're done.

Well, not so much. When I search for how to get from England to India in 1920, the search engines seem to think I'm curious about immigration in the late 1800s. The closest I've come is an article that outlines the sea route around Cape Horn that was utilized the early 1900s...and stops there.

There was one (1) Reddit thread that popped up from someone with a similar problem who had the route mostly mapped but was just missing a bit in the middle. It started with the Orient Express.

Okay! Time to look up the Orient Express! And we get...

An absolute ton of information on the very big, very famous luxury liner of trains! Yes'sir, the Orient Express got you from Paris to Istanbul in style like you wouldn't believe! All of the rich people were lining up to bask in the lap of luxury as they made this cross land trip!

...

...which was probably beyond the budget of a newly sacked valet...

Pretty certain.

So we start looking for other ways to get from Paris to Istanbul in 1920 and apparently you could...walk? Or something? Maybe hitch hike?

Yeah, there's nothing. I can not come up with a search that does not tell me about the Orient Express, but unless Thomas ties himself to the roof, I don't see him getting aboard that one.

So! Are there any travel experts out there who have insight? Or people who have faced this issue in their fanfiction? Researchers with a hyper fixation on Agatha Christie? Banana cream pie? I'm kinda hungry, I could go in for some banana cream pie.

Heck, I'd settle for a less politically volatile reason for Thomas's cousin to be in residence, although I'm going to have to at least touch on the BEF*** for plot reasons.

*our fauna is as biologically impossible as our fauna

**or, well, Duckduckgo, but that doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely

***at least I assume that's who was stationed there. Again really, really not interested in politics. At all. Ever. Plague on the planet.

[porcupine-girl]

There is a lesson in here somewhere

IDK, not quite about killing your darlings since this wasn't really darling but about when you're stuck, letting go of what you've got planned or already wrote to get unstuck.

I'm trying desperately to finish this WIP I started back in 2018 for the WIP Big Bang. Fighting with my writing brain the whole way.

I was very very stuck on an early scene. I knew exactly what was supposed to happen, down to what position they were going to have sex in. Scene has been in my brain for several years. Couldn't write it. Maybe because I've been writing less smut than I did back then, and smut was always the hardest thing for me to write? But also maybe because I'll never be back in whatever very specific headspace I was in when I started this scene and so making it go the way I thought it was supposed to go is going to be smashing a round peg into a square hole no matter what.

I had to have such an argument with myself to finally get to what in hindsight is the logical solution!

Me: They could have sex differently. Maybe instead of rushing madly into it they take their time.

*tries that*

*still stuck*

Me2: Maybe... they don't have to have sex? Me: They've already fucked twice, despite this being their first actual date, it seems likely they'd do it again. Me2: Sure, but what if they didn't? Me: But Bitty has to spend the night, it's important to the plot and characters for multiple reasons. Me2: Yes, but he could spend the night and they just... don't have sex. Me: I think you're just trying to worm your way out of writing the smut you're stuck on. Me2: Yeah so? Me: They're so horny for each other, though, that's been established. Me2: Yeah, but what if they don't have sex this time. Me: ...

Lo and behold, when I finally convinced myself to think about how the scene might go if they don't have sex, it worked immediately. I knew exactly what conversation this would lead to, which could reinforce things they said earlier, and how to transition to Bitty spending the night anyhow. I sat down today and easily wrote nearly 1000 words and finished the scene.

Now, the lesson here might be something about not forcing myself to write smut just because there are already explicit scenes in this fic, when my brain doesn't want to, but I think the bigger lesson is if I want to finish this damn thing that might mean throwing out bits of my outline and accepting it going a different way.

[flymetosnarryland]

A little progress.

I'm working on "Infraction." My precious baby, uh. This art is part of it in a way. Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape. When people are falling in love everything seems easy, but then life happen.

(I'd like to talk about how things are going with Infraction.)

I'm back on it since couple of weeks and working on it is intense (my brain is literally boiling). I don't think I ever planned a story for that long. The first idea has born 6th January this year. I was writing down (like crazy) everything I wanted to be in this fic. During first months it was chaotic and messy, but brought me so much joy. When I've had everything that (I thought) I needed, I wrote first chapters, yeah. And then shared them, because was so excited about all of it and just couldn't wait. Gosh.

Now I... hm... well, maybe not "regret" it, but I think, I totally should have wait. Why is that? First thing first, this story is not ready yet for being written in, you know, final version. It's too fat, lol.

I may want too much from it. There is a lot, like, seriously, A LOT of things to cover. First notes took me around 80 pages and it had many gaps in it (too much if you ask me). Things I needed to figure out and fill in, in the same time making everything work together. Because this Snarry is not sprinkled with crime. It's filled with murder, political shenanigans, family shiteshow and tough, not always appropriate, love. There are secrets and lies, blackmails and history that matter. Backstory of many people, whose actions over the years supposed to bring us to the point where we are now. And, you know, all of it gives me the thrill. First time in my life I feel like a true Puppet Master.

So, couple weeks ago I started to write a proper outline, if I can call it like that. To put everything in order and, going from the very beginning, to fill all the gaps. To answer all the questions I was asking myself in notes. To figure out the missing clues, some details without I couldn't go further and with that - to find out how characters will change facing new situations. How they will grow (I really love this part). Sometimes I think, "why am I even doing it?" I could just write some cosy, little fic where Harry and Severus' silly problems would be the main goal of the story. Like, focusing on them should be enough, right? Why am I going for all the other things, if I just want them to shag and have their happy end after all? 😂

Well, if it's not for fun, I don't know the other reason. The level of excitement is just incredible. I don't know, if what I'm writing is good or bad. If it really has sense, because I've always seen myself rather as a potato, not as a great mastermind who can plot some good shite, you know. That said, "Infraction" feels even more challenging that I ever thought it will be. But I feel deep inside that I can do it. Going step by step where the main plan leads and... it just feels good.

I've started in October 1989. Now I'm in January 2011. It means that I managed to finish everything that happen before the fic starts, lol. And, actually, I almost covered the first part of the book. So, two more to go? Hehe. It'll take time, yes. It's crazy how much I want to continue writing the main chapters, not only swim in the plan-phase. Drawing the series of "Muggle London" art helped me a lot with easing this itch. However, it's still there. I know, though, that I have to finish it. The whole outline, I mean. Without it, things can go south.

That said, I can't tell how long it will take. Couple weeks? Maybe months. This is really... a lot of work and I want to be proud of it. Even more so, because this fic means a lot to me. I know it may not be, you know, mind blowing or something. But I hope that giving it all my love, it could be, you know, not that bad for reading, hehe.

[johnwickb1tsch]

andar conmigo ~ part 7

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: angst 😭 chapter map

Part 7

During siesta the next day, you are scribbling furiously at the little desk, making headway on repairing the damage wrought by the irascible don Juan. In a way the bastard almost did you a favor. The change in direction helped you rethink some plot points you were stuck on.

Paul watches you quietly, in between dozing with his hands behind his head. His strong back has been put to use on the farm, and he is glad for the chance to rest his body. An hour goes by like the blink of an eye for you, before he asks, “Will you read me something you’ve written?”

You freeze.

There’s a long silence, before you’re able to answer, “It’s not really…for sharing.”

He smiles gently at you, but you can tell he’s disappointed.

“Aren’t you planning on letting the whole world read it someday?”

Total strangers. Not this man whose opinion of you is meaning more and more to you each passing day. You look between the book and the man sprawled on the bed who is becoming so precious to you, in spite of yourself. 

“Someday. Maybe.”

“But…you won’t share it with someone who loves you?” 

You sigh, shutting the book. He says those words so easily–crazier yet, you actually believe him.

“Paul…you don’t want to read this. You don’t want to know what I’m really thinking.”

He laughs, propping his head on his hand. “Of course I do. Or…” He gives you a coy side eye, smirking in a way that only he could make so adorable. “Instead of writing everything down all the time…you could talk to me?”

You blink at this suggestion; you hate to say it had hardly occurred to you. 

Your whole life you’ve resigned yourself to hiding your true self in your writing, because to say the things you’re thinking aloud would get you in trouble. Reprimanded. Spanked. Slapped. Ostracized. A few hundred years ago, you would have been burned as a witch for the rebellious thoughts that bounce around your head. Not because they are cruel or obscene, but because they challenge the order of things, the systems in place that favor men living the most convenient way possible for themselves, while women slog along behind them, picking up the fucking mess.

Hoping to deflect Paul’s earnest inquiry with humor and not hurt his feelings, you take your little book to the bed, straddling his waist and affecting a theatrical air, holding it up in one hand as you read. “The day was fine, as though the land had been dipped in gold…” 

You give him a look, as though to playfully say you’re welcome.

However, he is well aware that you have fobbed him off, and the sadness in his liquid brown eyes as he looks up at you unexpectedly hits you like a blade twisting in your heart.

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” he soothes you, hands smoothing down your thighs, as though you are not the one who has hurt him with your caginess. “You don’t have to.”

Did you not say, just yesterday, that he was the man you trusted most? You meant it, at the time. So what’s stopping you now? You find your chest is rising and falling rapidly, as you consider what it could actually mean to let this man read your innermost thoughts. 

It could set you free–or prove your absolute ruin.

He could hate you. 

The possibility is real and true.

Maybe he thinks he loves you, that he accepts you for who you are–but there is a veritable iceberg lurking beneath your surface, treacherous and cold. He has no idea.

But maybe, he should. 

You almost feel like you are watching from outside your body, when you set the little book upon his broad chest gingerly, like an offering upon an altar.

“You’re not going to like me after reading this.”

“Don’t be silly.” But for the first time, there’s a shadow of doubt in his eyes.  

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He frowns up at you, gingerly palming the book. “Are you sure?”

You nod slowly, though it’s half and half for you. A part of you wants to just go on the way things have been–a part of you wants to sabotage it all so you can be free, and this is the surest way you know how.

There is a one percent chance that you are safe with this man. The cynic in you still refuses to believe you might have found a mate. The romantic, that has long been shoved in a closet in the darkest depths of your heart, dares peek her head out, despite your threats. 

Maybe, just maybe, he might love you for who you truly are.

But more likely than not…you should brace yourself for another heartbreak.

You leave him with your journal, the full confession of your heart’s yearnings and your worst neuroses, and go for a walk through the vineyard. You skirt the rows and rows of vines, taking in the beauty with a heavy heart. There is a trail that skirts the fields, leading to an overlook where you used to go almost daily. 

As you walk amongst the landscape of your youth, knowing that you are losing the love you found more and more with every step you take–a fat tear slips out of the corner of your eye. Then…another. Your grief is quiet, but persistent, as you mourn the connection with that sweet man that was never really given a chance to thrive. 

You could have had it all with Paul Sutton. All it would have taken…was your complete surrender. A different kind, than what don Juan would require, but surrender all the same. 

You sit on a log fashioned into a bench, and watch the sun gild the rows and rows of grapes lining the hills. 

“A beautiful view, no?”

You turn to find don Juan a few steps behind you. Your heart sinks a little, as you realize you are out here, all alone. Yet he holds up his hands, as though in surrender. 

You know better than to let down your guard. 

“Yes,” you agree reluctantly, and he smiles as though you have paid him a personal compliment. 

“And to think…it could all be yours.”

“Never mine,” you correct him. “Just my children's, if you had your way.”

He pays you a pouting look, and perhaps you are relieved, that he seems to be in one of his more playful moods, rather than the temper he last left you in. “I would treat you like royalty, reina mia.” 

He nears closer, but when he reaches for your cheek you shy away. “Putting on airs as ever, don Juan.”

He narrows his eyes, but smirks at you, as though you have not truly offended him. 

“I want you to come to dinner tonight,” he says. “You, and your husband.” 

“How…generous?” Immediately, you wonder what he's up to. You have never dined at table with the Aragon family. It is a formal affair, or so you have heard. “Is this your apology for acting like such an ass the other day?”

His gaze on you sharpens and you tense, awaiting the explosion.

Miraculously, it does not come. 

“A little treat,” he finally answers. “Wear something clean, of course.” He looks you up and down blatantly, and you cannot suppress a frown. Yet to refuse would almost feel like cowardice. 

“How kind of you,” you say. “What time?” 

You feel like you are accepting a challenge to duel, more than a social invitation.

“Nine o’clock.” Spaniards eat late–Californios are keeping in tradition with the old country. You wonder what his mother, doña Maria, will think about this arrangement. He surely has not announced his plans to reject his arranged bride from Mexico to her.

Knowing you must get back, you stand from your log. Now facing him fully, he sees that you have been crying. “What’s this?” he asks, reaching up to cup your cheek, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “Trouble in paradise?”

He’s smart enough not to sound smug about it. You were always such a fool for him, on the rare occasion when he offered you tenderness like this. You still don’t know if it’s real, or an act of manipulation.

“No.”

But he frowns, not believing you. “What has he done to you?”

“Nothing but love me,” you sigh. “Too much, perhaps.”

Juan lifts an eyebrow to that. But then, he smirks at you. “You are the only woman I know, for whom that would be a problem. Always fighting a battle that was already lost, long before you were born...”

It's your turn to frown. It unsettles you, somehow, that Juan actually knows you that well.  “I have to go.”

You make to walk away, but he catches your hand. “Don't go yet, querida. Sit with me. Stay a while. Remember the hours we used to steal up here?”

Vividly. 

“I can’t.” You pull on your hand, and he refuses to let go just yet, smiling like the god of temptation himself. This is a game you once played too, him flaunting that he was bigger and stronger and could do with you as he wished. How often did these contests end with you down in the dirt, or pinned against a tree in the forest, with his eager cock inside you? 

You tense, ready to fight him this time– but at the last moment he lets you go. 

“Until tonight, y/n.”

You nod, and take your leave, fighting not to scurry like a scared little mouse. Time to face the music with Paul– you wrote the score yourself,  and you have no one else to blame for what's coming to you. 

When you return to the room you expect to find him angry, perhaps sitting stoically silent in his disappointment in you. 

What you do not expect to find is your darling fake husband crying into his hand quietly, his powerful shoulders shaking with sobs. 

“Paul?” You cannot stop yourself. You run to him, wrapping him in your arms. He accepts this gesture gladly, nestling his cheek against the pillow of your breast. “I’m sorry,” you sigh, on the verge of tears again yourself. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He breathes deeply against you, as though just your scent nearby calms him. He sniffs, letting out a long breath against your skin. “You didn’t offend me,” he tells you. “You’re just so…” 

Again, a silence falls between you.

So difficult.

So impossible to please.

So fucking neurotic, unable to accept life for what it is. 

“So brilliant,” he finally sighs, and you freeze with your fingers in his soft dark hair, not having expected that at all. “There are things in here I’ve never even dreamed of thinking about, about life, and religion, and society, and being a woman, and I…” He starts to cry again. “I am not enough for you.” 

Your heart falls to your feet, and your blood turns to ice– this was not the point you intended to make at all. “Any woman on earth would be lucky to have you, Paul,” you tell him through the lump in your throat. “You’re so good and true. And I…break everything.”

He shakes his head against you. 

“No. You’re just brave enough to see the truth and call a spade a spade. You're smart. Smarter than me, for sure.”

“That’s not true.”

You really don't think it is, and your heart is breaking all over again that you have hurt this man in a completely unexpected way from what you’d thought you would. 

“Come here,” you say gently, sitting at the head of the bed and holding out your arms to him. He fills them gladly, settling in against your chest.

Eventually he speaks again.

“I’m sorry I tried to rush you,” he sighs as you stroke his hair. “I understand now, why you’re so afraid. I understand…how crazy it is, to expect women to just put their whole lives in the hands of a man they hardly even know. I would never mean to hurt you, y/n, but I’m just a simple man. Maybe…I would.” 

There is a part of you that instantly wants to just assure him that it isn��t true, that you know he wouldn’t hurt you, that it would all be all right because it’s nice to think so. You stop yourself from telling lies just so you can keep him a little longer, biting down on the words so hard you taste blood. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly, your throat hoarse. 

“I guess I just…get scared of being alone,” he goes on. “My mother gave me up to a home when I was five, after my father walked out on us. I never saw her again. I married my wife after knowing her for just a day, and…she never really loved me. I wrote her a letter every day, and she never read a one of them. It’s like I’m cursed–the women I love never really love me back. But she never even knew me, I can’t blame her. I just…want so badly to be wanted.” 

“I understand that, Paul. You deserve to be wanted. You’re such a good man.” 

And I want you. 

The words stick in your throat. If you say them aloud to this man, true as they are, how could you ever take them back if you changed your mind? You would destroy him. 

Maybe you’re more analytical than Paul–but he’s braver than you. Of that there’s no doubt in your mind. 

A rattling sigh escapes him. You feel it through your chest, as much as hear it, and it makes you hold him tighter. In that moment you want to fight every bad thing in the world that ever happened to this precious man. It makes you think crazy things, like what if there was a chance? 

“I know you were afraid I would hate you,” he says quietly. “But I think I love you even more now.” 

This is the thing that breaks you–now you start to cry, filled to the brim with your fear and disappointments and impossible longing to be accepted for who you are, until you can’t contain it anymore. Because you know you love this man too, in spite of yourself, and all your better judgment. 

What feels like an eternity later, after you’re both wrung out and you can finally speak again. “Paul?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” After all this, that there is still a softness in his voice for you…it makes you reel. 

“What if…we just try it out, when we get back to the real world?” For Las Nubes is a dream unto itself, a relic from a different time. You are living in an age gone past, here, not in 1945. 

He gives that self-deprecating laugh you have come to so adore. “You mean…we should get to know each other better?” he asks wryly, wiping his eyes. 

“Yes?”

You’re sure he can hear your heart thundering against the cage of your chest, and you're so relieved to feel him nod against your chest. “Yeah. That sounds pretty good.” He sits up on his elbows, paying you a watery but earnest smile, a bit of that old sparkle returning to his dark eyes. “Kinda hard to go backwards though, after getting to have you as my wife these couple a weeks. I’m a lucky man.”

You roll your eyes at him, though you’re smiling too. No matter your fears, you have to admit that Paul has been the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time. “I suppose there’s nothing wrong with enjoying it, while we’re here.”

He lifts his eyebrows playfully, and you cannot help but laugh. This man. He brings you such joy, when you are sad. You are afraid you don’t do the same for him, but he seems happy, when he presses his lips to yours. 

“You just might have to rewrite Peter and Inez’s ending,” he teases you, referring to the thinly veiled story you’ve been writing about the veteran and the spirited girl who meet on the train,. “Made me sad, when they said goodbye in the station in Sacramento.”  

A shaky sigh escapes you, and you go back to running your fingers through his hair. “It’s just a story.”

“It’s a good one. You're one hell of a writer, doll.”

You sniff, brittle laughter escaping your lips.

“Thanks.”

“Inez…she loves him eventually, doesn’t she?”

There's a question in code there. You know it, but you don't have it in you to lie to him. 

“She does,” you dare answer. “Madly.”

He sighs, some tension released from his frame, and the two of you snuggle like that for the rest of the siesta, dozing and waking momentarily, just to make sure the other is still there, and this hasn't been a long, strange dream.

[sadiegirl2021]

Writing tag game by @bonecarversbestie !

Describe your writing process from idea to posting/publishing?

I have a notes app called EasyNotes where I jot down all my ideas as I get them; bits of dialogue I think would work in a fic, interactions between characters (which always come to me just as I'm about to drift off to sleep) and very, very rough outlines of chapters.

Then, I'll word vomit onto a doc and copy in any notes I had.

Because I'm better at dialogue than describing the scene, I'll write out all of that first and then work from there to flesh it out. Like starting with the skeleton.

Once I have the first draft done, I start my editing process. I go paragraph by paragraph correcting spelling and grammar (I have a Chrome extension called LanguageTool), and then I play the whole chapter through another Chrome extension called Read Aloud. Because of my ADHD, it can be difficult to catch all my errors by reading alone, so hearing it out loud helps A LOT! Would recommend it. (Although the voices used are hilarious. Hearing your smut scene's read out by a monotone robot is slightly traumatising 😂)

Once I'm happy with a paragraph, I will add HTML coding to it - the <p> tag. In my head, it's just the easiest way to mark that a paragraph is complete. If I'm still not sure about a sentence or paragraph, I will mark it in red to rework. I also add all my <i> tags as I'm writing, so I don't forget about them later!

I realise I'm doing too much! But, I quite enjoy the editing process.

Once I get a chapter or One Shot uploaded, I try my best not to read it again so I'm not continuously making little changes.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

I want to be a plotter SO BAD! I've got Excel sheets, multiple docs with outlines, plot points, and a solid plan. And then boom! The characters run off like a crazed toddler in the opposite direction, and all I can do is follow. So… I guess I'm a pantser!

What do you listen to when you are writing?

I have multiple Spotify playlists depending on the mood of the fic/chapter I'm writing. If I need to write emotional scenes, I'll put on some heartbreaking Emo songs from 2006! Or, if my energy drops while writing, I'll switch to 90s pop. Generally, though, I just listen to instrumental music. One of my fav playlists is this one.

What’s your drink of choice (while writing)?

Water. I am booooooring. It is sparkling, though!

Promote yourself! What’s your favourite thing you’ve written?

I think it's Hot Girl Summer. This was supposed to be a little funny, 5-10 chapter fic that wasn't serious. And it has spiralled into a multi POV, 40-chapter story with so much plot! I'm loving the process, though. And I think I will definitely have to get it bound when it's all done.

Share a fic of yours that you think is underrated/deserves more love.

I'm going to say Hot Girl Summer too. I think a lot of people aren't as interested in stories that follow both Gwynriel and Elucien (and sometimes E/riel or another pairing with their favourite characters) at the same time. I haven't seen many fics that do it, but they’re some of my favourites in the fandom, and I’m so happy to add to that list. If you're hesitant, I highly recommend giving them a try!

My favs are:

Call Me Home (by @propagandaprincess)

A Court of Vision and Bloom (by studentwriter666)

Best Laid Plans (by @trappedoutside124)

Do you have any advice for new writers?

First of all, just do it! It took me 33 years to build the confidence to try. For most of my life, I didn't think I was good enough to write, even though I had so many stories to tell. In my 20s, I probably wouldn’t have had the confidence to take the plunge. Writing opens you up to criticism (which I hate!), but I’m forever grateful that 99.9% of my readers have only ever been incredibly supportive and encouraging.

Don’t be afraid to use tools that help you. I know my limitations with ADHD, so I created a process that works for me. Everyone has a different method, and the right one is whatever works for you.

Finally, finding a community of like-minded people makes the whole process a lot more fun. I love helping others develop fic ideas or beta-reading for them, and appreciate all the support they give me. It really motivates me to keep writing.

What is a writing style/technique that others do really well that you'd like to get better at?

Flow and angst! I'm really working on improving these areas in my writing. I'm quite impatient and tend to rush through the plot rather than building up tension. I know I need to slow down and let the story breathe, but it's so hard! I just want my characters to kiss within the first 5 seconds 😂

Is there a character you were surprised you enjoyed writing as much as you did?

Eris Vanserra!

Gods, I love torturing this man! I've redeemed him so much in my fic that I'll be heartbroken if he truly turns out to be just a dickhead in the canon ACOTAR world!

Thank you for tagging me @olenvasynyt

No pressure tags: @sunshinebingo @avabrynne @thevalkyriesshadow @aldbooks @hlizr50

[ckret2]

How far in advance do you plan and outline your chapters?

This sorta answers half the question.

For the fic I'm currently working on, I've planned the overall plot arc of the whole fic: i know which lessons Bill needs to learn and how his character will have developed by the end. I know most of the relationship development he has with most of the important characters and I know where his relationships with almost all of them will be by the end of the fic. I know what the ending IS—what happens, how and why it happens. Comparing the fic to Gravity Falls for a metaphor: I had 50% of the Weirdmageddon trilogy planned when I was still writing Headhunters.

I know what (probably) most of the "episodes" between now and "Weirdmageddon" will be. Some of them I know entirely what happens, start to finish; some of them I sort of have an idea of how that episode's monster-of-the-week plot starts, some of them I pretty much know how the monster-of-the-week plot ends but not what kicks it off, and generally all the ones I only have the beginning or ending to I already have the emotional & relationship & character-development half of the plot figured out. Some of them are in a very fixed order relative to each other ("Fidds MUST build the Traum-O-Bot before Journal 2 crawls out of the bottomless pit and Mr. What's-His-Face MUST escape before the Traum-O-Bot is built because of what order Bill's character development happens in" type deal), some of them I don't know when I'm plugging them into the overall plot yet. Some future chapters I've written whole scenes from even though I haven't started outlining them at all.

Lots of parts of the fic have a well-developed skeleton, but this is what my outlines look like, and I (mostly) only do THAT right when I'm about to start an episode: outline an episode, write that episode, outline the next one, write that one, outline the next one, etc. (That's not always true though, I have several non-consecutive episodes outlined)

[esoteric-joke]

Interview with Darling28

(#Interview1)

Welcome to the first interview of The Dear Writer Project and a massive thank you to the wonderful Darling28 for being so supportive of this whole idea since the beginning!

Darling28 about her writing process, her inspirations, her experiences with writers block and her future plans on writing:

What does your writing process usually look like and is it always kind of the same for every story you’ve written?

Oh interesting question. It's usually the case that ideas come from the simplest things and suddenly a complete plot is in my head within minutes or sometimes even seconds. At least the rough outline. Apart from that, my characters often like to take the plot for themselves and I just watch in amazement at what they let me write. I often suffer as much as the reader when I write because I let it flow out of me and often don't know what to expect. Most of the time, though, I have a specific scene in mind in the beginning, often for the middle of the story, and I can hardly wait until I finally get to the point where I can write it. The end of a story quite often involves a marriage proposal, I realise, even if I don't always intend to, but Louis and Harry in my stories are very stubborn about it.

But other than that, my writing process is pretty simple: get excited about a new idea, start writing immediately, often at a speed that makes my betas despair and end up questioning the whole story until I reread it myself and suddenly love it.

Do you have any sort of structured writing plan before you start writing or do you just write what comes to mind?

I'm absolutely far from structured. I have the problem that my best ideas about what to write next come to me when I'm driving and I have to memorise whole conversations or scenes for the rest of the journey. As soon as I've parked, I write it down as a note. But there's really nothing more than these few notes, no mood board or major characterisations, I just let myself go with the flow. I also think that would take some of the fun out of it for me personally, I love getting to know my characters over the course of the story and I don't want to plan everything in detail beforehand.

You said before that you write a lot, especially after you’ve got a new idea in mind. How much time do you invest in writing in your day to day life?

I actually write every day and usually around 3-4k. I think it takes about 3 hours of my time, but that's really just a rough estimate. I usually write already in the morning at breakfast before I have to go to work and then spread the rest over the afternoon and evening.

Our Souls Intertwined is your longest work at the moment. Was it also the one you wrote the longest on?

Our Souls Intertwined… I wrote this story together with freakingmeout and we took turns writing chapters, each of us wrote one character. Despite the length, I don't think we really needed much time to finish it because the other author is just as fast as I am at writing and often each of us had finished a chapter within a day. It was perhaps a little worrying in hindsight haha.

If it wasn’t Our Souls Intertwined, what work of yours did take you the longest?

Oh wow I think you've got me now and I can't give you an answer off the top of my head.

I'm guessing it might be Calm after the storm because that's my longest story that I wrote on my own. So it makes sense that it probably took me the longest to write.

But when I think about it, it could also be the current one I'm writing that hasn't been published yet. My last few weeks haven't been easy for personal reasons and I haven't had time to write and everything has stalled. I just started writing again a few days ago and am catching up.

She also told me that she sometimes drives her betas crazy with the amount and pace that she writes. On some Sundays she writes all day and sometimes feels a bit empty inside afterwards, she admitted.

What work of yours did come together the fastest?

I would say Men are shit. This story practically wrote itself and I could just let my thoughts, which I put into the story as Louis’, run free and didn't have to think about them any further. It was a great experience and I love this Louis so much!

Do you finish writing the story completely before you start publishing or do you start publishing whenever you finished a chapter?

For my first stories, I posted while I was writing. So I finished a chapter, had it proofread and then published it.

However, my only beta at the time had of course her own life and sometimes couldn't keep up with the speed at which I wanted to update again.

So at some point I started to finish writing and only then published it.

What worked better for you, personally?

Both definitely have their pros and cons. But I really liked publishing in the writing process. You get immediate feedback on what you've written, sometimes even ideas for the rest of the plot from readers' comments.

However, it would have stressed me out a lot, like in my situation the last few weeks where I couldn't write anything and had to make the reader wait for updates.

What inspires you in your day to day life the most?

The story often comes to me really quite by chance, mostly inspired by songs, not so much by the lyrics but by the feelings they convey, what lies between the lines.

Did you ever have a writers block and what helped you out of it / What do you do if you feel unmotivated?

Yes, I've had a writers block for the last few months and I've missed writing so much. But there's no point forcing yourself and for me it was best to wait until it felt right again. Before that, I didn't have anything like that as far as I can remember. Sometimes I just didn't know what to write next and got a bit stuck, but my advice here is: just start writing. Don't think, just do it.

And if I'm just unmotivated then I leave it for the day because I know it'll be definitely easier the next one.

What do you find most stressful/annoying/repetitive in the process of writing a story?

For me it's the hardest thing to end the story because then I'm usually so connected to the characters that it feels like saying goodbye to a dear friend every time and I'm actually really sad.

Oh and one thing that really frustrates me is that my Louis and Harry very often crash the chapter with sex. I love writing smut but sometimes they overdo it (okay it amuses me a bit too).

Darling28 also told me, that one of her favourite phases in writing a story is the getting-to-know-each-other phase. She said that she loves it because that’s when she feels like the characters come to life and the tension between them grows.

Can you tell me something about any future projects you’re working on?

I'm happy to tell you about future projects!

In addition to my many ideas for stories that I haven't started yet, I'm currently writing four open ones. Two with other authors and two of my very own. I hope that I will soon be able to present the readers with something new from me, because for me it is always the best thing to finally be able to share my work with the fandom.

For the next part of the interview, I asked Darling28 more specific questions about her works.

What work of yours is your personal favourite?

It's really difficult to name THE one. But I'll go with the three that come to my mind first, okay?

Calm after the storm, because I love their love in this story and I felt for both of them while writing it. It still touches me today.

Men are shit, because Louis is just chaos but so sweet at the same time. I loved describing his ADHD brain, letting his mind run wild. I wanted to give neurospicy people a story in which they can find themselves and feel understood.

True Colours, because I wrote this story for my friend and beta who wanted me to make Harry really suffer as it's usually Louis in my stories who has to go through everything horrible. I love the development of the two of them in this story. They heal together and I don't think there's anything better.

What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who isn’t familiar with your works and why?

I think that would be Paparazzi. That's the most popular one of mine and it contains a bit of everything but it's not as extremely angsty as others that I wrote. A bit of enemies to lovers, gay awakening, smut, fluff - what more could you want?

A lot of your works are based around complicated and complex topics like having a bad relationship with your parents, mental health issues and homelessness and everything that comes along with it. Why do you specifically choose to write about those topics?

I love the drama and the big emotions.

But also because none of our lives are perfect. Everyone has their own struggles and their own traumas and I love picking up on that. It especially touches me when readers find themselves in it, feel understood and heard. I think for some it's some kind of validation. It's wonderful to turn something very sad into something very good. As much as I love the drama, I also love the happy ending.

And of course it's also free therapy in a way. There's always a part of me in most stories.

The Magic Within You is your only story, that doesn’t really have any of those topics (besides of Louis’ tendencies to panic quickly). Why did you want to write something so different to your usual writing style?

The Magic Within You is a pure, cheesy Christmas story that was set up like an advent calendar when I posted it, but I think it can be read very well throughout the year.

I always find Christmas a difficult time of the year myself. Lots of people come together and I'm often overwhelmed. I especially wanted to give people who might feel the same way a cute story, offer some distraction and sweeten the day. I hope I succeeded.

By the way, I love how you mentioned the panicky side of Louis. So adorable.

Is something like an advent calendar planned for this christmas season too or was it a one-time thing for you?

No, I haven't planned another one, but never say never. Maybe I'll suddenly get an idea in October and start writing like crazy.

Actually, a sequel to The Magic Within You was planned for this summer but unfortunately I couldn't do that for personal reasons that I had already mentioned. But I definitely want to publish the sequel next year!

You wrote Our Souls Intertwined and Bring me to life with freakingmeout. How did that go?

Oh it's a totally interesting experience because here too we only had the rough plot, but because everyone wrote their character in alternating chapters it was always exciting for the other to see what would happen in the chapter of the other. Sometimes I sat there shocked or totally amused and had to think about how I was going to live through certain situations with my character. It's definitely anything but boring and you experience it as an author as well as a reader.

When I asked her if it feels like a roleplay kind of thing she actually confirmed that it does sometimes feel like exactly that.

Paparazzi is your most popular work. Why do you think this one in particular got the most attention?

I have absolutely no idea why Paprazzi is the most popular one. I often ask myself that but maybe it's really because it's not such a heavy one? But instead of looking for answers, I prefer to be happy that so many people like it.

Is there a work of yours that you’d like to get the attention that Paparazzi got or just more attention in general?

Oh yes, definitely. In my personal opinion, Holding On To Heartache has far too little attention. I know where it comes from, or rather I suspect that the tag 'suicide attempt' puts a lot of people off, but I still think it's worth reading. You can always expect a happy ending with my stories.

Is there a work of yours that you wouldn’t publish again in hindsight?

I must confess that I have already deleted my very first story. And I know that my betas and friends will kill me if they read this now. Because they kept stopping me every time I had a crisis about this story but I did it nontheless one day. I guess my secret is out now... oops. If you read this, please don't be mad!

But I'm actually thinking about revising it and publishing it again at some point.

Are there any characters in one of your stories that are inspired by people or animals you know in real life?

Yes... Bree in 'Paparazzi' is my friend and beta. But I don't think I realised until the later chapters that I was using her as a role model for this absolutely wonderful character.

For the last part of the interview, I asked Darling28 some personal questions that are more about the fandom and less about her experiences with writing.

Since when are you in the fandom and what made you become a part of it?

I am a Lockdown-Larrie haha. I was watching Tik Tok videos out of sheer boredom like probably so many others and suddenly a video with two guys popped up. It's this one where Harry is sitting on the armchair, Louis is sitting on the armrest while Harry is looking up at Louis, absolutely enamoured. I was just sitting there and I remember thinking: who the hell are these two guys that are so in love?

I read through the comments and searched the web for more informations. After that, my days were filled with watching all the YouTube videos and then making a Twitter account. I was absolutely down the rabbit hole and I don't regret it one day. At first I was in the lane of LHH (I mean, come on, just look at him) but then I listened to Louis music and he got my number 1 and never lost rank again. Also, the song Just hold on saved me, the lockdown was not a good time for my mental health.

Your favourite Louis and Harry Era?

LHH forever. If I had enough money I would bribe him to let them grow long again. Although I'd have to meet him first. My plan isn't finalised yet as you can see but yeah... I think you know now how serious I am, haha.

And Louis... Hedgehog and FITF. I just love when his hair is fluffy.

Your favourite movie H starred in?

My Policeman. Damn, I was broken after watching it but it's so good.

Who’s your favourite writer in the fandom at the moment?

One of my favourite authors is BoosBabycakes. I especially love their a/b/o stories!

And your all-time favourite fic in the fandom?

Oh, that's really difficult. There are too many good ones and I really need to think about it for a moment. But I would like to name a story that is not one of the fandom's always recommended ones.

Okay... I go with this one, it's definitely one of my favourite a/b/o stories, the nesting is so sweetly described and I think I really need to read it again:

You've Got A Higher Power, You're Once In Any Lifetime by BoosBabycakes

What makes you want to stop reading something?

If the story is written in first person or the plot doesn't make sense to me and I question too much in the story. Some stories are also too artificially drawn out for me. I don't like slooooooow burn. My attention span doesn't last that long.

Your favourite song at the moment?

Call me by Neeve, it's a small german indie band but I like them a lot.

Of course nothing beats Louis music, I hope I don't have to mention that, do I?

Do you have a favourite movie or a favourite series at the moment?

No, neither of them. I haven't watched anything for ages. I prefer to spend my free time writing.

What was the most unusual thing that inspired you at some point?

Erm I hope this doesn't come across as weird but Louis' bum and waist. For some of my a/b/o stories and ideas that I still want to write.

What is your favourite season?

Spring, when everything turns green again and starts to blossom.

She also told me, that she has hay fever and that sometimes it’s unbearable for her until autumn but she still loves spring the most, especially after the darker months.

Who would you like to read an interview from?

I don't have a specific author in mind but I'd like it to be someone with a smaller fanbase to draw more attention to them.

I wanted to make it a little tradition for every interview, that every writer gives every of their works a colour and a season. It’s just a fun little thing for the end of the interview I thought would be interesting. Thankfully, Darling28 thought it was a great idea too, so here are the results:

Captured Ink, Hidden Hearts - pink and black, spring.

Bring me to life - darkblue, autumn.

Our Souls Intertwined - dark red, late summer.

True Colours - rainbow, obviously, autumn.

Men are shit - pink and green, summer

The Magic Within You - ice blue and white, winter (on a sunny day)

Tainted Love - brown, winter

Calm after the Storm - purple, early spring

Tank tops and a phone call - red, summer (a very hot day)

Letters - dark green, last summer days

I'm with you - white and grey, autumn

Paparazzi - yellow, summer

Holding On To Heartache - black with golden sprinkles, winter

Paradise is in your own mind (Sequel HOTH) - dark pink, spring

You Sunshine, You Temptress - green, summer

Careless Whisper - dark blue, winter

A huge thank you again to Darling28. Thanks for understanding my vision and being so open and kind. I appreciate it so much.

[alto-tenure]

Do the ends justify the means?: A Zero Escape analysis

I'm not here to answer a nuanced philosophical question, sorry. At least not in any way beyond "it depends on the ends, and it depends on the means". If you'd like to leave your own opinion, as of the time this post was made, I have a poll open for that. A while ago, somewhere on Tumblr, I read a post criticizing the moral framework of Virtue's Last Reward, saying that the game (and especially the formatting of the AB Game), right down to its title, says "morals are for suckers" in comparison to 999 being driven by compassion. I don't agree with this premise (and if you're OP of that post, I apologize for making an example of you), but nonetheless I wish to take a closer look at the moral framework driving all three Zero Escape games, and ask: what exactly does Zero Escape as a franchise believe about the ends and the means?

DELTA: Don't be mistaken. If we do nothing now and let time pass, an even worse future awaits. A religious fanatic will trigger a nuclear war with a terrorist attack. Eight billion... All of mankind will perish. Unfortunately, the fanatic's identity is unknown. Therefore I decided to kill six billion people.

AKANE: Why...

DELTA: By doing so, I will have a 75% chance that they are among the virus's casualties. To tell the truth, history has proven me right.

JUNPEI: So...to kill one person, you'll sacrifice six billion...?!

DELTA: It is to save two billion people.

AKANE: And that's how you used Radical-6...

DELTA: You don't believe that's the ethical choice?

AKANE: What?! Of course I don't!

JUNPEI: Is that all you think human lives are worth?! Do you feel nothing as you kill off a whole bunch of innocent people?!

I'm opening with this because Zero II, aka Delta, is the most extreme of the Zeroes in terms of how far their means go to justify their desired end. Delta's desired end, as textually expressed (or at least one of them), is to assemble a group of SHIFTers capable of creating a timeline where Radical-6 is unnecessary and the world doesn't end.

Zero is, generally, painted as this somewhat mysterious shadowy villain, an intimidating presence that looms over the game Zero runs, even as the characters figure out that someone among them must be Zero themself. At first the player's not sure why Zero set up the Game -- for entertainment? For some kind of fucked up experiment?

But with the reveal of Zero's identity also comes the reveal of Zero's motives.

I get everything now... At last, I finally understand what all of this means. I know why the Nonary Game was held today. I know why we were kidnapped and brought here. It was all for this moment. All of this was planned out to lead to this one moment. Oh my God... This is...this is insane! I...I can't believe it, but there's only one possible answer... June is--Zero is--Akane Kurashiki. She recreated the history of the future that she had a glimpse of, 9 years ago. She tried to save herself that way 9 years ago-- No! She's trying to save herself right now! That means that there's only one thing for me to do. Even if this is all some sort of insane plan... I will save her... I will save...Akane Kurashiki. I must save her, no matter what!

(minor edits made to game's script here for readability)

Nothing about Zero's motivations is ever simple, regardless of the game -- Delta is not alone with his complex motives. In 999, it's left uncertain what exactly Zero's motivations are for a while. It's only once you start to learn about the first Nonary Game and the experiments conducted there that you start to get a picture of what's really going on, and even then, it's not truly an accurate picture. You start to see the outlines of a possible revenge plot, of the men at its center, of the targets placed on the backs of Cradle Pharmaceutical's executives. But ultimately, it's not really about revenge, though that's kind of a component. It's about saving a girl trapped in a paradox. The Cradle Pharmaceutical executives could have gotten out alive -- and for that matter, the game was designed so that the door was left open. Revenge wasn't the true goal, though perhaps it was optimistic to believe in a timeline where Ace wouldn't kill the others, all things considered. Is Akane's life worth the lives of the Cradle Pharmaceutical executives? Is Akane's life worth the trauma she inflicted on the others and re-inflicted on Clover and Light? The game hardly leaves any time for an answer from anyone besides Junpei. And Junpei won't let Akane die.

We never see Akane, so we don't get too much more rumination on this. Do the ends justify the means? Someone needed to save Akane's life, and danger is required for the morphogenetic field to work. And I don't think there's anyone who would want to let 12-year-old Akane burn in the incinerator (besides the person who put her there), regardless of what she has to do in order to avoid being burned.

Virtue's Last Reward and Zero Time Dilemma both massively up the stakes from 999. What hangs in the balance isn't the fate of a single girl, but the fate of the whole world.

Virtue's Last Reward places an emphasis on predestination -- not that 999 didn't have those aspects, but that the future was much less certain in 999 in comparison. Akane is both dead and alive, but in Virtue's Last Reward, the apocalypse has already happened, and the world has already died. What matters, then, is not the timeline that we are present in, but the timelines that could be. In End or Beginning, you're left with that hope for a better timeline -- hope that the Sigma that jumped to December 2028 can create a better timeline. But in the meantime, this Sigma is stuck in this timeline, and that won't change for another forty-five years.

Would I...would we really be able to change the course of history? No...that was the wrong way to look at it. It couldn't be a question. I had to change history. We could save the world. I'm going to change history. I stared at the darkening skies above us, and steeled myself. I would succeed.

Sigma comes to the same conclusion as Junpei in 999: someone needs saving, and so the past must be changed. Becoming Zero is necessary because he already has before. "What you are, I was; what I am, you will become." Sigma is the one caught in the paradox this time, because if he runs from the fate in front of him, then there isn't even a semblance of hope that things could change.

But that's not where the game ends, thanks to natural disasters in Japan.

TENMYOUJI: But what would rewriting their history mean? The nine [bikers] who survived lived full lives. How can it be right to just erase all that? The survivors overcame their own misery and loss, and made the best they could of the hand they'd been dealt. Isn't that worth something? Isn't that the best thing that humans can aspire to? Is there really any point to a world where everything is happy? Are people who struggle for a better world just idiots? Being human is about fighting even when it seems hopeless, and finding happiness even in a world that hates it. Are you saying that's worthless?

Another Time may not have ultimately been taken into account for Zero Time Dilemma, but it is one of the few times when Zero's mindset -- and the player's mindset, due to experience with 999 and other multi-route visual novels -- is directly addressed and challenged. Life goes on in those abandoned timelines, despite it all.

Zero is always going to be dubiously moral. Putting people in a death game is never going to be something good, no matter how just a cause it is. But Another Time is one of the few times the first two games question directly whether it really is right -- whether all those cross-timeline casualties are really worth it for the ideal nice happy ending.

...of course, Zero Time Dilemma, as with the title, only adds to the moral balance.

Going back to the lines of dialogue we started with here: Akane and Junpei are a group of people who, generally, believe that the ends justify the means. Akane couldn't have been Zero in 999 without that belief, and she undoubtedly has come to fully accept it by the ending of Virtue's Last Reward:

SIGMA: Do you really think I can keep the virus from getting out?

AKANE: You have to. If you don't, billions of people will die. Only you and Phi can save them.

The AB Project, for Akane, is a necessity. She'll do whatever is necessary for a world without Radical-6.

...and this brings us back once more to Delta. How far do the ends have to go to justify the means? ZTD bends over backwards to explain how Delta can still have a somewhat sympathetic motivation by stating that he's fighting fire with fire -- asking the player if they'd rather kill six billion or eight billion people. And the answer, according to the writers, is "fuck that, we're finding a third option"...which is also what Delta wanted, in the end. Delta also gets his motivations challenged a fair bit -- not just wanting to secure his own existence in the form he is currently in, but also everything apocalypse-related.

Zero Time Dilemma never quite settles the question of whether the ends justify Delta's means of getting there. In my opinion, what you make of Carlos's final decision and resolving the ambiguity says a lot about your thoughts on how Delta's means work towards the ends he sought.

But in the end...the characters still accept Delta's premise. The characters are still working to find the person who Delta claims doomed the human race to either nukes or Radical-6 and the annihilation reactors. Zero Escape as a series has firmly lodged itself into believing the ends justify the means, even if that means it has to justify brutal deaths and an apocalypse-causing virus. That isn't to say that it's incapable of questioning the premise altogether, but Zero as a figure is one that cannot exist without the philosophy of a good outcome mattering more than any bad outcomes along the way.