#it's always interesting to know whether folks dive right in or do planning first

[deniigi]

also sorry so tuesday again you write a TON and i know youve answered something like this but like whats your planning system for writing stuff?? ive been writing in a notebook for like an hour planning but idk if writing a ton of sentences and words that are mostly questions and sentences like 'lots of food including @ work' and like, mini schedules for what time things happen is useful? im explaining this bad but uh??? just if you have the time and tips or anything? dcsjthankshaveagreatweek!!!

Hey Tues!!

So yeah, I did discuss a little about my kind of arbitrary planning practices here in this post but in terms of like, the nitty gritty, I haven’t really discussed too much because everyone’s kind of got their own process.

So for me, about 80% of the time, I’ll just sit back and let the work go where it will. I don’t do much planning at all. But when it come to sustained fics, I do do some pretty extensive planning.

But let me be clear here, when I say “extensive planning” I’m talking no more than 1 page of general notes per chapter.

In terms of what goes in that plan, like, it depends on your piece, but in general, for me, every piece you write starts with two questions: where you are in terms of narrative? And what is the main goal for this piece?

Really, the big question you’re asking when you go into a piece is, ‘Where do I need to end up?’, but that can be hard to know before you start writing, so I prefer to think of this is terms of the two questions.

–

So, like, here’s an example of what that floating ethereal bullshit actually looks like (we’ll use a maybe-the-next-chapter from Sidebars as an example so you’ve got something concrete to look at):

So first thing’s first!

1. Where are we?

First, in terms of the larger story. Are we halfway through? Are we still at the beginning? Do we still need to introduce characters? Do we still have plot points we need to hit to establish a relationship or motive or enemy?

Right now, in sidebars when I ask myself this question, I can say, okay. I’m about 3/4s of the way through this story and I am done introducing characters. I’ve established Peter’s relationship with Sam and resolved that mini arc. I’ve established MJ’s relationship with the Acadec kids. I’ve finally FINALLY written the wedding scene, so that leaves me with probably 3-4 chapters to cap off Peter’s Chicago mob situation, to get the Acadec kids to Nationals, and to come up with some kind of ending.

That’s where I am.

So if you’re writing a one-shot, this is going to look different. For example, you need to decide where in their lives your characters are. Where are they physically/geographically? What are they doing in this moment?

(ie. for say, team red, you can say, smth like ‘well, they just met and are trying to feel each other out.’ or ‘This is right after Matt came back from midtown, and Peter and Wade have just started to move on with their lives after his ‘death.’‘–that kind of thing is a good place to start with a one shot)

Once you know where you are, you can start to figure out where you’re going. And that’s when you move on to question two!

2. What is the goal of this piece?

I personally try to pick one main goal and around that, I’ll often have a handful of subgoals going on on top of that big guy.

For example, in sidebars this next chapter must resolve the mob situation. That is the main goal of that chapter.

–

Now, at this point, now that I know where I am and what my main goal is, I can start to draft and weave in the subgoals.

So here’s what that looks like in terms of drafting:

1. Wedding is done. Peter now has time to deal with the mob. Peter needs to gather his team so that they can tag into Chicago to take their turn in the fray. 

2. The problem here is that he is juggling two things at once: he’s got to go deal with the mob, but he and Miles are also due to be in Washington DC for Acadec Nationals in a matter of days.

3. Peter is disaster-prone, which means that something needs to go to shit in one of these areas.

Once you get to this stage, you can start tossing in details and timelines, but until you have these guys worked out, all those little details are great, but not especially helpful in establishing a larger narrative. And straight up? They might even be holding you back at this stage.

For example, in the above example, I really want Peter to ride a motorcycle, so I’m gonna cling to that in my head and I can maybe make a note of that in my planning, but I’m not going to fuck with it quite yet. Instead, I’m going to break my two big plot points down.

That could look like this:

1. Wedding is done. Peter now has time to deal with the mob. Peter needs to gather his team so that they can tag into Chicago to take their turn in the fray.

Peter’s TR has 2 times to meet other Team Reds in Chicago.They meet Gwen and Agave first. This goes awkwardly. These two make Peter reflect on his own time with the Gwen Stacy from his verse.

Shit’s awkward af.

Wade likes Agave. Agave flirts with Wade.

Shit remains awkward af.

After this, Peter and Miles have to scram for Acadec.

(end scene)

At this point, I usually throw in an in-between scene as a transition, just so I know how we are getting where we’re going. So I’d say something like:

The next morning, Peter and MJ nearly miss the bus to Washington DC. It works out somehow that the Brooklyn kids end up sharing a bus with the Midtown kids.

Peter and Flash are brought back together.

The tension is unbearable.

Shit gets real.

And now we have worked our way to main plot point 2. Plot point two is broken down similarly,  and then lo and behold! You’ve planned your chapter!!

You may now start the fun, exciting part of writing the piece. And it is here where you start filling in all the spaces in between those works to bring out textures and characterizations and funny bits, sad bits, introspective bits, world building, etc, etc.

Anyways, Idk if that’s helped you at all Tues. I suppose the main thing I’m trying to say here is that when you’re planning a piece, maybe try staying as big picture and broad as possible. Try to avoid too much detail until you’re actually writing the piece (unless you’ve got a very particular/important detail in mind–in which case, note it on the side, but not in the body of the planning draft) and that might help you a little in terms of shortening the planning process.

[rantrambles]

Ever get so upset you make a Tumblr account to vent?

I haven’t even listened to The Penumbra Podcast yet but it’s on my list because it’s insanely popular and the cosplays I’ve seen are hot as hell (A+ to all the cosplayers I’ve seen you’ve done great work). Now, with the recent news surrounding the podcast, I’ll wait till it’s done if I ever do get into it. I’m Asian and part of the LGBT community but I’m not nonbinary so I can’t say much about the trans represention in the art but I wanted to add my two cents on the matter as a person of color and someone examining the situation from the outside. Also, before I get deeply into it, I’m not the only person of color with opinions on this matter so if people have their own frustrations and criticism with the racism in The Penumbra Podcast and/or the new artist they hired, definitely listen to them too. These are my own personal opinions, and I’m sure other people will disagree and that’s fine. We’re all going to have different views on this so bear that in mind. Also, feel free to correct me or add anything if I’ve missed some information. Here’s a great breakdown of the whole situation for those that don’t know what happened. Finally, I was very hesitant to post this, but I felt it was important because I make a statement at the end on how race should be presented in a podcast format so if you are interested in making a podcast and want to have a diverse range of characters, please skip to the end to read those thoughts.

I’ll start off by saying, I’m not even that upset with the new artist that The Penumbra Podcast hired. I know that statement alone is controversial but I don't personally know them, and I’m not going to judge who they are as a person by a few pieces of art they’ve made. They are the least of the problems that I have here. Since the announcement and the backlash, I’ve been scrolling through the artist’s Instagram account and I can tell why people find the designs offensive, but I’m also comparing the designs to the artist’s other work, and I honestly believe that’s just their style. They’ve exaggerated the features of just about every character they’ve made, regardless of race or gender. From what I’ve seen the sharp angles and overly round curves in the anatomy that make some of the character’s features more jarring are how they prefer to draw. I’m sure they’re capable of drawing more realistic proportions but for the most part they’re art aims to call attention, be bold, and create distinguished features. Not inherently a bad thing on its own.

And yeah I’d understand the issue if this were a scenario where the artist heard how these characters acted in the podcast and thought “hey, obviously this character is a black woman because they are super strong and therefore must have big muscles, no other woman could look like that” or “hey, this character has to be Asian because they act super seductive sometimes better draw them as such.” But from my understanding the race was already decided by previous official artists and a general description of the characters were already generated by the audience, similar to how The Magnus Archives leaned towards drawing scrawny Jon with black, greying hair and dark skin. The new artists couldn’t really change those features even if those features aren’t described in canon because a depiction that strayed too far from popular fandom interpretation would make the character’s unrecognizable to the fanbase. 

I think the reason this became such a big issue for most people is because the new Penumbra artist used their exaggerated art style when making these characters and people of color and nonbinary folks already see themselves drawn as these exaggerated caricatures all the time (with those images being used to further discriminate against them). I’m sure the artist didn’t mean for their art to be offensive, but that of course doesn’t change how it was received. 

According to some, the poses and expressions the artists chose did not fully represent the characters entirely and only served to further perpetuate harmful stereotypes, and I’ll have to take their word for it because I still haven’t listened to the podcast so I have no idea how the characters act. But again much of the criticism is based on the one line-up and doing a deeper dive into the artist’s work I managed to find artwork that was much less offensive. Here some art where Vespa is depicted in a non-violent pose and one where Vespa is in a threatening pose but not an overly violent one. Here is Peter drawn in a non-seductive pose. Hopefully, the artist truly does keep the criticisms in mind as they work on the new official art. I’m just not the type of person that wants to get the pitchforks out and cause this particular person to lose a job they seemed really excited about over their old character line-up, especially when that person is also part of a marginalized group.

Again, that’s just my opinion on that particular artist. Those who are offended by their art are still valid in how they feel, and the artist should absolutely take their criticism to heart to better how they represent the characters.

What I’m more upset about is that I think The Penumbra Podcast should never have released official art for their characters in the first place and that’s their mistake that they refuse to own up about. They have made it clear that the story was never meant to portray characters of colors, a fact emphasized by the fact they hired mostly white actors from the start. They only started releasing art of the characters to get a profit. And the thing is they know what they did was wrong. All I had to do was search Penumbra Podcast racism and there is a note on their website saying that they archived some old official art.

“We have discontinued all Penumbra merchandise that uses the original character designs, and in the meantime, any profits on the sales of that merchandise will go to the For The Gworls project. We also realize that the depiction of these characters as POC, while not appropriate for us to use in our marketing and merchandise, has nonetheless become personally meaningful to many POC listeners. For that reason, and because we do not wish to distance ourselves from our mistake, we are keeping these images on our website for archival purposes. Though we do want to make it clear that many of the main/featured voice actors are white and that we did not write the characters to represent any specific POC experience, you are, as always, free to imagine these characters in any way that you like.”

I went to their shop and they still sell posters and pins with the character’s faces on them, but they are donating it to a good cause so hopefully that stays the same. However, I still find it a little uncomfortable that they are still selling character merch and have plans to continue selling character merch. They have no right to dissuade the fans that already found representation in the characters, but they also have no right to profit off the representation that was built, regardless if they made the story. 

Let’s compare this to another piece of popular media. I love Avatar the Last Airbender and, I liked the ATLA voice actors just fine but there should have been more people of color doing voice acting behind the screen too. The voice actors for that show were mainly white too, however, the creators knew that they would be making poc characters. That’s what makes the difference. Did they still choose to go with mostly white voice actors? Yes. Could they have done better and pay more people of color? Also yes. But I’m not as furious at them because they did their research on the cultures they were basing the ATLA world off of and intentionally gave us a show where Asians could see characters that looked like them represented on the screen. The Penumbra Podcast did not do any of that. Again, they openly admitted that it was never their intention to make the character’s people of color when they made the podcast so that goes to show no research was made to properly represent specific cultures. The color of the character’s skin in their official designs therefore became more of aesthetic choice rather than representation, and it wasn’t even their aesthetic choice to begin with!

Race isn’t a color you can just throw onto the character because you feel like it. So I want this to be a lesson to anyone that wants to make a podcast: if you want to include poc characters please do some research into the cultures you plan to represent the way you would with any other form of media. Just because the audience can’t see the characters and just because it’s harder to smoothly introduce the character’s appearance doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be lazy on how you present the characters. Do research before you start writing the first episode and take the time to hire poc actors. Hiring poc actors is actually the least that can be done to show representation. Also, since the audience cannot visually see the race of the characters on a podcast and it can’t typically be described the way you would in a book, you’ll have to be creative. It’s not my job to say how, but my suggestions would be, before the fans come up with their own image of the character, you need to establish race in the first few episodes or release character profiles on a website so that the fans know you canonically intended the characters to be of a certain race even if you aren’t able to mention it in the actual podcast. If you are unwilling to do any of these then the best route is to avoid stating race at all and allow the audience to build their own representation into your form of media. However, once this happens, you are not allowed to profit off popular fan interpretations. You lose all rights to create official art or images of the characters. You cannot use “we have a diverse cast of characters” when you market your story. It doesn’t matter whether you created the content or not, you did not create the representation for those minority groups.

It’s one thing for fans to build their own inclusivity into a form of art like a podcast, but it’s another thing for the creators who never worked to make the representation happen to take advantage of the representation that the listeners built for themselves. Thank you for attending my TedTalk.

[nugnthopkns]

find somewhere to grow

word count: 23.1k

warnings: fem!oc, platonic relationships (romance is not a central theme but there is some pining!), divergence from original movie plot, cursing, smoking, implied catholicism, strenuous parental relationships

recommended listening: it's a good life if you don't weaken' | the tragically hip

a/n: hi @ya-pucking-nerd!! the secret is out – i'm your partner for the summer fic exchange 🥰 this is an incredibly niche story but as soon as i found out you loved dead poets society i knew i had to do it!! it's half au half retelling with all of my dumbassery included but i hope you enjoy anyways. the biggest of thanks goes out to @antoineroussel for organizing this event, generally being amazing, and providing feedback to make this story the best it could be 💛

The only thing separating Fran from freedom is ten months at Hell-ton.

As soon as May comes she’ll be as far away as possible, hopefully somewhere in Europe, with no plans to ever return. Her parents agreed that she could spend the summer after graduation travelling the world if she maintained her straight A average at the best preparatory school in the country. Welton Academy is located on the edge of a small north-eastern town, with the only other building within walking distance being its sister school. It’s incredibly isolating, but luckily Fran has her friends to keep the loneliness at bay.

As her dad rounds the final corner of the school’s obnoxiously long private road, Fran’s stomach flutters with excitement. It’s been nearly two months since she’s seen anyone – Nate, Cale, and Tyson scattered like dust in the wind to various accounting firms across the country and Charlotte returned to England to spend time with her family. An eight week internship at a law firm kept her busy throughout the break, and Fran’s beyond happy it’s over. She has no interest in being a legal secretary, but her father is adamant. The car engine cuts off and Fran opens the door, running ahead of her parents into the auditorium. If she’s lucky one of her friends will appear and she’ll be able to sneak in a quick hello, hopefully losing her parents for good in the crowd.

“Francesca, that’s enough. Quit gallivanting around and walk beside us,” Fran’s father barks. A stern man overly concerned with appearances, he opens the car door for her mother and watches as the teenager sulk back to them.

Her mother shakes her head and tries to reason with him. “Oh Conrad, give the poor girl a break. She spent the entire summer cooped up at your brother’s firm. She just wants to see her friends.”

“She can reunite with them at the appropriate time. Right now she’s to sit with us at the ceremony. What kind of message does it send if we let her run about willy-nilly?”

The conversation ends right there, and the three of them enter the school in silence. Inside the auditorium the first three rows are reserved for senior students and family, so everyone finds seats in the middle. Fran begins to crane her neck to look behind them for a glimpse of her friends, but a swift elbow from her father has Fran facing forward in a millisecond.

Mr. Pratt’s bagpiping troupe comes bursting through the doors, and the sound echoes off the vaulted ceiling. Fran pinches her forehead in hopes of dispelling the oncoming headache she feels and prays to god and the saints above that this goes by fast. The countdown to graduation starts now. Headmaster Sakic struts up the aisle, robe swishing from the movement. The other teachers follow dutifully behind and once everyone is seated the address starts.

“Welcome back to another year at Welton, and if you’re new here we are pleased to have you,” the ancient-looking man drawls. Nate always insists that he’s a ghost, and from the angle she’s seated at Fran kind of sees it. Sakic looks about as old as dirt, and the rest of the faculty looks comparable. She sees one new face – younger than the rest with a slightly mischievous glint in his eye. Perhaps he’s the new English teacher, Fran thinks.

The speech continues, addressing parents about expectations and rankings within the country, but Fran loses interest rather quickly. It’s been the same thing since she enrolled in the sixth grade, surely they would have come up with a new format or something. Her father seems to be enjoying himself, beaming when the headmaster mentions that over half the graduating class will go on to attend an Ivy League. “That will be you,” he whispers. Fran isn’t quite sure how to tell him she doesn't plan on applying to any of them.

After what feels like a million years the ceremony is over, and she follows her folks out of the room. Headmaster Sakic stops the family on the way out. “Francesca,” he greets. “We’ll be sad to see you leave at the end of the year. Hopefully you’ll finish your time at Welton on a high note.”

She thought a simple nod of her head would suffice, but the glare Fran receives from her father says otherwise. “Yes sir,” she sputters.

The administrator quickly exchanges pleasantries with her parents before moving on to the next family. Thankfully no one speaks of Fran’s ‘disrespect’ as luggage full of her belongings are taken from the trunk and carried to the dormitory, but she imagines her mother will hear an earful on the way home. Fran can’t find the energy in her to care, even though she does feel bad about leaving her mother to deal with the monster that can be her father. Reuniting with her friends is the only thing she can think about, and besides, her father thoroughly enjoys having something to complain about.

Pushing the door of her room open, she sees Charlotte with her back to the door unpacking her clothes. Before Fran can help it, a squeal is falling from her lips and she drops her bags, immediately running into her friend’s arms for a hug.

“Fran!” she shrieks, just as happy to see the auburn haired girl with emerald eyes. “I’m so glad to be back, the weather in England was downright dreadful.” At the sight of Fran’s parents Charlotte backs away, offering them a tight-lipped smile. “Mr. and Mrs. Winters.”

They return the favour, nodding their heads in her direction before giving their daughter a final hug. After making her promise to call once a week, they leave Fran in peace. Charlotte flops on her bed, tie going askew, and Fran is quick to follow.

“Can you believe it’s our last year?” she asks, kicking her feet into the air and letting them bounce off the mattress when they come down.

Fran answers earnestly. “No. It seems like just yesterday we were moving in for the first time.”

Charlotte spills the details about how Tyson secretly came to visit her in the summer, and Fran gushes over their blossoming romance. The rest of the group clued into their feelings years ago, but she’s just happy they finally figured it out themselves and got together. Cale now owes Fran twenty dollars since he lost the bet.

Wanting to go and see her other friends as quickly as possible, Fran shoves clothes into random drawers and haphazardly makes her bed. She doesn’t even bother to set up her typewriter. Charlotte chuckles at the eagerness but she just shrugs. “Ready?”

The walk to the boys’ dormitory is a quick one. Located two floors above their own, the girls are there in no time. Finding their friends is the challenge, as neither Fran nor Charlotte have any idea what rooms they’re in. Fran hears them before she sees them, with Cale shouting as he chases Nate down the hall.

“Get back here you asshole! And give me back my book!”

Nate laughs and speeds up. “Never in a million years. I didn’t even know you could read Calesy.” The broad rascal sees Fran approaching and tosses her the object he’s holding. “Fran, catch!”

Feeling sorry for Cale, she sticks the book out for him to retrieve. “Thanks,” he huffs, slightly out of breath. “You ladies settle in alright?”

“Settle? Do you know our dear Francesca at all? As soon as her parents were back in the car she was practically dragging me here,” Charlotte says matter-of-factly, poking her friend in the ribs to continue the teasing.

Fran doesn't even try to refute the statement or defend herself by saying she let her spill some secrets before itching to get out. “What can I say? I missed my boys.”

It’s then the other young man comes into view. Stepping into the hallway, Tyson quickly jogs to where the rest of the group is chatting. Fran’s swept into a bone crushing hug by the Albertan and her feet lift an inch or two off the ground. A summer of training for the upcoming hockey season has Tyson extra muscular, though she isn’t complaining. He’ll now be able to boost her into the taller trees in order to win the stupid compitions Nate insists on having. Once he lets go, Fran waves hello to his roommate Ryan. He gives a quick hug followed by a pat on the head because he hit a growth spurt in the summer and is now a comfortable couple inches taller than her. The five of them leave Ryan in the hall and head back in the direction of the boys’ rooms, conveniently located beside each other.

One look at Charlotte has Fran realizing she’s itching for a proper reunion with her lover. “Nathan, would you care to join me for another installment of ‘Bed Jumpers’?” she asks, praying he won’t be able to turn the opportunity down. He’s always game for causing a ruckus and it’s one of the things that she loves most about him.

He shoots her a mischievous grin and does his best radio announcer impression. “On this week’s programme we’re taking a deep dive into the bed of Mr. Cale Makar. Will it pass the tests and get the bed jumpers seal of approval? We’re about to find out.” Nate grabs Fran’s hand and starts sprinting, hoping to get to the destination before his much faster friend. Out of nowhere butterflies appear in the girl’s stomach, and she can’t decide whether they’re present because she missed Nate or if they’re lingering from the former crush she had on the boy.

“Why does it have to be my bed?” Cale groans, following dejectedly. Only Tyson and Charlotte hesitate to follow, and Fran shoots them a quick wink over her shoulder as a ‘you’re welcome’ gesture.

The other two don’t notice their absence, and truthfully Fran doesn’t feel it for long. It’s so nice to share space again with the ones she cares about most. She tries not to focus on the fact that this is the last time she’ll be able to do this, insteading honing in on Nate’s laughter as he does a ridiculous dance with the sole intention of messing up Cale’s sheets. Eventually he stops reprimanding the two of them and climbs up – Fran offers her hand and Cale eagerly accepts. They’re still jumping when Charlotte and Tyson return, singing horribly off key to the Buddy Holly song that’s been atop the charts recently.

“I really thought you guys would have been over this by now,” Charlotte sighs, rolling her eyes. Her boyfriend just shrugs, not knowing exactly what to say.

She’s the first to stop jumping, plopping down in the middle of the bed. Everyone else quickly follows suit, and though it’s a tight squeeze, they all sit side-by-side. The twin bed frame groans in protest but no one pays it any mind. It’s as though everyone knows each moment together is precious, and they’re running out of time together. Nate and Tyson are set to become Wall Street investors, Charlotte will be going into nursing, and Cale is staying at Welton to assume a junior teaching position. It seems that only Fran’s future is uncertain – parents urging her to go into the legal field but she wants to do nothing more than write. Creatively, journalistically, it doesn’t matter to her. Fran finds the act of writing to be freeing, but her father has made it clear it will not be a fulfilling career. As if being cooped up in an office staring at court reports is any better.

“It’s too nice a day to waste inside,” Nate groans, “Let’s go to the lake.”

The lake in question is a glorified pond, but it provides a picturesque backdrop for Welton’s recruitment brochures. Located behind the main building, it houses a small dock where several row boats are stored. Crew rowing is quite a popular sport, and Welton has one of the best rowing teams along the Eastern Seaboard, second in prestige only to the school’s hockey program. The group isn’t the only one with the bright idea to soak up the sun’s rays on the last truly calm day, and the lawn is packed with students. The area they’ve inhabited for as long as Fran can remember is free, and the five of them race to claim it. An ancient weeping willow provides shade and cover from nosy teachers, but there’s also good access to the water to dip their feet in. Swimming is strictly prohibited, however most teachers would look the other way if the sun was being particularly cruel. Hours pass like seconds in the safe haven of the willow, and before Fran knows it all the students are being summoned for dinner.

“Hope they’ve got at least one good meal in them this year,” Cale grumbles. The rosy-cheeked boy has a point — Welton’s kitchen staff are notorious for providing lackluster nutrition. Everyone seems to be in agreement, and chats idly about potential food choices all the way to the dining hall.

The chefs must have decided to ease into the grim selection of overcooked meat and vegetables this year, because tonight they’re serving roast beef. Plate in hand, Fran waves goodbye to the boys and follows Charlotte to the table. For reasons unbeknownst to her, the dining situation is separated. It doesn’t make sense to anyone since classes are all integrated, but she supposes it’s the administration’s feeble attempt to maintain order. Too much contact with the opposite sex could detract from studies – Fran imagines the rule is in place for the benefit of the boys.

From dinner everyone is sequestered directly to their rooms. Charlotte quickly sneaks a final kiss from Tyson’s lips before the rest of the friend group continues to climb the staircase. Fran teases her relentlessly once inside the confines of their shared room. “God, you’re like a lovesick puppy!” The comment earns her a swat to the head with a pair of stockings.

“Shut up. You’d be the exact same way.”

She supposes Charlotte’s right. Perhaps she would be as loopy with love if there was someone to share it with. However, she has no intention of getting a boyfriend, even though sometimes she lays awake at night thinking about what it would be like, and several times Nate has been the object of those daydreams. Nothing is going to get in the way of making every last memory possible with her friends.

Sleep comes easy. She’s exhausted from the hustle and bustle of moving, but also from the content she feels being back at school. Though it isn’t always easy, Welton has become more of a home to her than the house she grew up in. This is largely in part to her friends but she wouldn’t change it for the world. That night she dreams of a life where the five of them are never separated.

Morning comes much too quickly for Fran’s liking. If it were up to her, classes wouldn’t start until at least ten. The ringing of Charlotte’s alarm clock jolts her awake, and she squints through the darkness to see it reads 6:45. There’s exactly half an hour before she has to be downstairs for breakfast.

“Ugh, why must we get up so early,” Fran groans, looking over to see that Charlotte is pulling on her sweater, already dressed for the day.

She laughs at her roommate’s sluggishness. “I’ve been up for ages. Suppose my body still isn’t used to the time change.”

“You think by now it would be.”

Charlotte just shrugs, not having an answer. She may be a science student, but even that knowledge evades her. The two of them finish getting dressed and rush to the bathroom. If they don’t get there before everyone else, the line to brush their teeth becomes unbearable. A few other girls are moving around, but the floor is mostly quiet. Fran doubts the boys’ floor is the same – they’re always jumping around and giving the Head Boy more grief than he deserves. The bell rings, signaling the dining hall is ready for students. Fran and Charlotte head for the stairs, and meet up with Cale.

“Where’s everyone else?” she asks.

He rolls his eyes and Fran knows he’s already had to deal with a handful. “It seems they’re a little slow this morning,” he sighs. “Oh, before I forget, we’ve got a table booked tonight for a study group. Eight sharp, don’t be late.”

After getting a verbal confirmation that both girls will be in attendance, Cale splits from them to sit with the other senior boys. Breakfast today is simple: eggs and toast, but it will keep them going until lunch. Charlotte chats excitedly about the new biology curriculum and Fran half listens. The only reason she’s still in science is because it’s mandatory. If she had the choice her timetable would be filled with English courses, but alas, Welton only offers standard English as opposed to additional creative writing courses. It’s not as though her father would let her take them anyways. Instead, Fran’s day is spent in a bunch of courses she could care less about.

Biology, Chemistry, and Latin pass without incident. Every class has the same spiel: students are to do well in order to get into Ivy Leagues and to keep Welton in the top spot of all preparatory academies in the country. The teaching staff don’t care if they learn anything — everything is all about keeping up appearances. Homework is piled on to maintain the rigorous academic schedule supported by the administration, and by the time lunch rolls around Fran’s collected a solid three hours of work. It’s all due the next day because doesn’t believe in easing students back into the swing of things.

“This is all so mindless,” she complains to her friends during the noon break.

Cale immediately comes to the defense of his future colleagues. “It isn’t them,” he explains. “The system is deeply flawed and needs an overhaul.”

“Shut up Calesy, you’re literally less than a year away from becoming one of them,” Nate pipes in. “I agree with Fran. Everything about this place sucks.”

“Except for us,” Tyson chimes.

Nate shoots his friend a toothy grin. “Right you are Tys.”

The five of them joke around until the bell rings, signalling the end of break and the start of the second half of the day. Trigonometry, Geography, and History are the same as every other class. The constant reminder of what they have to achieve is becoming unbearable, and by the time English starts Fran is so sick of hearing the same three sentences. It’s bad enough she’ll be letting down her parents with her decision to attend a publicly funded college, but now she’ll be letting her school down as well.

Fran shuffles into her seat behind Tyson and waits for the teacher to arrive. “I heard he’s new, fresh out of a post-doctorate program from Oxford,” he whispers.

“Maybe he’ll teach us something interesting,” she huffs. Tyson laughs, but knows she’s serious. The lack of originality in the English department has been a thorn in Fran’s side since ninth grade.

Without warning the overhead lights cut out, leaving everyone in the dark. Murmurs of what could have happened erupt but they’re turned back on just as quickly. Searching for the culprit, Fran turns in her seat to see the doorway and comes face to face with an exuberant man. He winks when they lock eyes, like the two of them are sharing a secret. “Follow me,” he cheers, and exits just as fast as he appeared.

The students look hesitantly between each other. No one knows what to do – teachers at Welton aren’t like this. They don’t spontaneously host lessons someplace else and certainly don’t get their pupils’ attention by rattling a lightswitch.

“Something about this doesn’t sit quite right,” Charlotte whispers, and others nod in agreement. Everyone stays firmly planted in their seats. Fran thought that Nate might follow, since he typically does things in reckless abandon, but even he looks uneasy. A knot in her stomach says that the man, whoever he was, is the teacher and everyone is putting themselves in a risky position by not following his orders.

Before she can commit to leaving the room he comes back. “Don’t you want today’s lesson? You’ll be awfully behind otherwise.”

It’s settled. With a bit more coaxing, everyone picks up their books and files out of the room. The whispers only increase as the students follow the teacher, wondering where he could be taking them. “This is how we die,” Cale mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets in frustration.

“We aren’t going to die Cale,” Tyson reasons. “Perhaps the lesson is better suited for outside.”

The rosy-cheeked boy isn’t convinced. “He’s taking us to a secondary location, Tys! That’s standard procedure for murders.”

“No one is dying,” Fran sighs, grabbing them both by the elbows in an effort to keep up to the rest of the class. “I think we’re just heading to the library. Makes sense for an English class, don’t you think?”

Sure enough, the group of teenagers grinds to a halt outside the library’s double doors. It’s silent as they wait for new instructions. Nothing comes – instead everyone is ushered into the room. Winding through the aisles and statue replicas, the front of the group stops at a section of study tables. The library is deserted so the class chatters freely, unable to disturb anyone. The still unidentified man clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “My sincerest apologies for the kerfuffle. I just wanted us to talk in a bit more of a natural setting. I’m Mr. Bednar, though I also respond to ‘O Captain, my Captain’. We’ll be spending the year together. This is my first teaching position in a few years, but I’m very excited to learn together. Who wants to introduce themselves first?”

It’s silent. Despite all the curveballs Mr. Bednar has thrown today, it’s clear no one was expecting this. The other teachers don’t make attempts to know their students – all interactions are sterile and removed. Eventually the silence becomes too much and Nate speaks up. “Hello, I’m Nathan MacKinnon, but please call me Nate,” he says. Fran is glad he’s fearless because there was no way she was speaking first.

“Thank you for taking the first leap Mr. MacKinnon,” the teacher laughs. “Anyone else?”

One by one, each student rhymed off their name. Fran falls somewhere in the middle, not wanting to seem too eager but also not wanting to be seen as a slacker. English is the subject she enjoys the most, and she wants to develop a good relationship with the teacher. “Francesca Winters,” she sputters nervously, and Cale tries to cover up a laugh with a cough. Fran jabs him in the ribs in retaliation, and swears she sees the teacher’s eyes crinkle, hinting at a smile.

“Pleasure to have you, Miss Winters. I heard from some of the other teachers that you have quite the knack for writing.”

Fran blushes profusely and her friends snicker beside her. Charlotte whispers something in her ear, but Fran doesn’t hear, too focussed on trying not to curl into a ball from embarrassment. The last thing she wants is for someone to have high expectations of her and not be able to live up to them. Mr. Bednar talks for a bit about the structure of the course and it seems entertaining. Classes are to be discussions, not lectures, and she’s excited because it’s like no other course at Welton. The typical pressure of scoring high on tests is gone, allowing Fran and the others to focus on enjoying the content. Mr. Bednar makes it very clear that his sole purpose is to help them learn to think for themselves and expand their literary horizons. When the bell rings, signalling the end of day, Fran can’t help but be a little upset. At least there will be one class she won’t dread.

☼☼☼☼

By the time Fran and Charlotte get to the fourth floor common room, the boys look like they’ve already given up on work. Nate is deeply invested in building a transistor radio from scratch, Tyson is aimlessly looking at the ceiling, and Cale is pinching his brow in frustration. At the arrival of his girlfriend Tyson seems to gain more life, sitting up straight and offering her a bright smile. “Study group, eh?” Fran smirks as she sets her books down, shoving Cale’s shoulder slightly. He offers her a tense smile that looks more like a grimace and returns to his book.

“Calesy’s just upset that he’s the only one who doesn’t understand the trig problem,” Nate sing-songs. A death glare is sent his way by the other boy, and a snarky comment rolls off Cale’s tongue.

“At least I give enough fucks to try and figure it out instead of copying Tyson’s answer like you did,” he huffs. “Some of us actually care about getting an education.”

A scuffle breaks out amongst the two of them when Nate lunges at Cale, forgetting it’s no longer a fair fight. Though in good shape, Cale’s athleticism pales in comparison to his friend’s. Too tired to break up the fight, Fran opens her chemistry textbook and begins working on the problem set. Dr. Sakic, in charge of patrolling the floor tonight, hears the racket the boys are causing and rushes into the room.

“Mr. MacKinnon and Mr. Makar,” he booms, voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. The horse play ends immediately, and both of them sink into their seats. “I expected better from you both.”

“Sorry Sir,” they apologize in tandem, too afraid to meet the man’s gaze.

The headmaster gives them a sharp nod. “Any more nonsense this week and I’ll keep you here for the break. You’ll have a wonderful time cleaning the chalk brushes.” Without another word, he turns on his heel to exit the room, but spins around when a sound comes from the speaker that had hastily been shoved into Tyson’s lap to protect it during the scuffle. “That better not be a radio in your hands Mr. Jost,” Dr. Sakic says pointedly. “You know they’re forbidden at Welton.”

“Of course it’s not Sir,” Tyson stammers. “It’s a science project. A radar. Just want to get an early start.”

The old man nods in approval and leaves the room, but not before giving it another sweep with his hawk-like eyes.

Silence overtakes the table out of fear, and by the grace of god Fran doesn’t struggle with the problem set. Nate gets her to help explain the one question he doesn’t understand, and once the work is done they all relax for the last half hour before curfew. No one really talks, enjoying the silence that rarely overtakes the group. Tyson and Charlotte cuddle into the large armchair in the corner and talk in hushed tones, leaving the rest of them to their own devices.

Fran tries her hardest to commit every detail to memory. Sounds, sights, smells – anything to help her remember the joy and contentment she feels. Come this time next year things will be vastly different and she wants to have a bank of memories to escape to when things get tough.

☼☼☼☼

Routine paints Fran’s life a dull shade of grey. There isn’t much she can do to combat it – Welton prides itself on a rigorous schedule that leaves no room for imagination. All extracurriculars besides the annual yearbook club are professional and promote the school’s code of conduct. The school newspaper was to be her magnum opus, her lasting impression upon Welton, but she was forced to resign as editor-in-chief by her father. The phone call had been filled with tears as Fran tried to argue with him, to make him see reason. It was no use because he was convinced the paper was a waste of time and wouldn’t make her college applications stand out. Fran’s mother said nothing, choosing not to insert herself into the matter. There was nothing she could do except sign the resignation paper and clear out her desk.

September passes by in a blur. Homework keeps Fran busy and her friends do the best they can to keep the sadness of losing the editorial position at bay. Charlotte is at her side nearly around the clock, always with a smile and a shoulder to confide in. Cale keeps her mind active by giving book recommendations once a week, and the other two help in any way they know how, whether that’s stealing snacks from the kitchen or letting Fran borrow sweaters when she gets cold. The year would be much more challenging and lonely if she didn’t have them.

The only place she truly feels joy is Mr. Bednar’s English class. Unlike the other teachers at Welton, he allows her to think for herself and express different viewpoints. Classes are spent reciting passages from novels and dancing around the classroom. It’s a Friday before a long weekend and Fran’s expecting to be assigned a lot of homework. She grumbles with Nate as they step into the room, and to her surprise the desks are all pushed to the side.

“Place your stuff on a desk and then huddle around,” Mr. Bednar shouts gleefully, sitting on his own. Eager to see what he has in store, she and the other students follow his directions. Nearly a month with the unconventional teacher has them used to these random class setups, and Fran imagines there will be a useful lesson at the end.

“Today’s class is all about realizing what you want in life,” he explains. “Each of you has ten minutes to envision what you hope your life looks like in ten years. Then you’ll act it out to your peers.”

“Sir, what does this have to do with English?” Tyson asks.

“Ah Mr. Jost, always asking the important questions,” the teacher chuckles. “You’ll have to write me a paper about your realizations of course. Just a small one, one page will suffice. The purpose of this exercise is to help you think outside the academic lens. None of you will be in school forever, and I think it will be beneficial for you to start to think about your futures outside an academic context.”

Mr. Bendar whistles loudly, and the brainstorming time begins. Shrugging her shoulders in compliance to her friends’ anxious stares, Fran screws her eyes shut and lets her mind wander. Almost immediately something comes to mind: she hopes to be at a book signing for her latest bestseller with her friends in the audience. Her parents couldn’t make it, but that’s okay – she doesn’t talk to them often anymore. After the event she brings everyone back to her apartment on the top floor of a swanky building and they enjoy each other’s company until the early hours of the morning. Fran feels warm and content and wants to stay in the daydream forever, but another whistle jostles her free and reality makes its unfortunate return.

“Any volunteers to go first?” Mr. Bednar asks with a smile on his face. A boy who looks far too small to be in twelfth grade timidly sticks up his hand. Fran recognizes him to be one of the few transfer students the school accepted this year, and gives him a thumbs up in encouragement. He introduces himself as Nico and depicts a fantasy where he’s the youngest senator in the country’s history and has everyone betting he’ll be president once he reaches the age requirement. It seems like an awful lot of work to her, but at least he has a dream his parents approve of. Other students follow, but Fran zones out. It dawns on her that Welton sends monthly reports home and if her father finds out she’s propecizing about being an author he’ll pull her out of school without a second thought. She begins to brainstorm an acceptable answer, something about being a legal secretary.

Eventually everyone has gone but Fran. “Miss Winters, would you do the honours of closing out the exercise?”

A lump forms in the back of her throat, and it’s all she can do to push it down. “Of course Captain,” she stumbled over the words. Charlotte squeezes Fran’s hand to ground her, and she sends her friend a thankful glance. Her legs tremble slightly as she moves to the center of the room – she really has to sell this. “When I look ten years into the future,” she began, “I see myself balancing a successful career in law and having a family. Of course I’ll only be working part time, as the kids will come first. I’ll live in a quaint little house in my hometown and spend a lot of time helping my aging parents. It will be a wonderful life.” Fran picks her brain quickly for any other aspirations her father might have, but can’t think of any, so she begins to return to her spot on the floor.

“Why are you lying to us?”

Fran’s shocked – she thought she had done a good job at selling the fantasy she detests more than anything in the world. “I beg your pardon?”

Mr. Bednar gestures for her to return to the spotlight, and she dejectedly shuffles backwards. “Franecsca, I asked you to share your hopes and dreams, not those of your parents. Do you really think Nico’s dad wants him to become a crooked politician? Of course not, they want him to become a doctor! We all have our own desires, so what are yours?”

A quick glance at her friends lets her know they’re cheering her on, and Fran recounts everything she saw when she first closed her eyes. The signing, the party, the unbridled joy she felt – nothing is held back. At some point Mr. Bednar encourages her to share what the book will be about, and before Fran can stop herself she’s reciting lines from a novel that hasn’t even been written. It’s exhilarating to picture a life that’s completely her own, and she doesn't know if she’ll be able to stop. Once she’s exhausted every possible plot line and characterization, Fran sinks to the floor in a proud exhaustion. Her teacher sends a charming wink her way before speaking. “Well, that just about does it for today. I have nothing else planned. Want to go play a game of soccer?”

On the way to the field, Fran’s friends shower her with compliments and praise. “That was fantastic darling,” Charlotte gushes. Tyson agrees with her, applauding Fran’s bravery for being true to herself.

Nate chimes in. “You have to write that book! I won’t stop hounding you until it’s done.”

“I don’t know Nate,” she sighs. “It was just a dream. We all have a life planned out for us in the real world.”

“But that could be your real world, Fran!” Tyson argues. “You sound so in love with the idea, and you’re the only one I know who could pull it off.”

Fran’s cheeks blush rose at her friend’s words. Only Cale is yet to say anything, so she shoots him a quizzical look. “What do you think Calesy?”

“I think,” he states, a broad smile across his features, “That you’ve already sold five copies of that novel of yours.”

☼☼☼☼

A few weeks later, Tyson knocks ferociously on the girls’ dorm room door after the annual club meeting. He’s junior supervisor, second in command only to Mr. Arthur, the Latin teacher. It’s a Thursday night, and their room is the designated spot for unwinding because the matron, Nancy, is kind and lets the boys stay a few minutes after curfew, telling their supervisor they were assisting her. “Look what I found!” he says excitedly, flipping an old book open to a specific page that doesn’t make sense to anyone but him. Tyson softens once he sees Charlotte, kissing her gently on the forehead. “Hello dear,” he whispers tenderly.

His girlfriend giggles before pointing to the annual. “Tell us what this is about!”

“Ah yes,” Tyson says, finally getting on track. “This is the annual from 1943. Guess who was in the graduating class?”

The rest of the group studies the pictures and all shout the answer at the same time. “Mr. Bednar!”

“Yep. And look right under his name, which I didn’t peg him to be a Adam, there’s a club I’ve never seen before. The Society For Banned and Burned Books, what is that?”

No one has an answer. “We should ask him tomorrow,” Nate suggests. “Find him outside during the afternoon break. I’m sure he’d tell us what it’s about.”

A knock rings out for the second time that night. Nancy peeks her head in and waves the boys to hurry up. “I’ve kept you out later than normal,” she says kindly, “but it’s time you return to your own dormitories.” Goodbyes are said and a makeshift plan is hatched. Sleep doesn’t come easy as Fran is too excited to find out about the club that is no longer offered at Welton.

The Society for Banned and Burned Books is all Fran can think of. The name is so vague – it could mean a million different things. How is she to know the truth? She’s distracted the entire morning, losing focus as her mind wanders through the different possibilities. In chemistry she almost ruins the experiment because she isn’t paying attention, and the titration would have been ruined if Tyson hadn’t caught it in time. Judging by the absent stares that Fran occasionally catches, the rest of the group isn’t doing much better. The question is eating everyone alive.

After what feels like three years, the bell that signals the start of break chimes. Fran’s out of her seat in an instant, and the others are close on her heels. Once outside, she notices no one is there yet, and they all take refuge under the willow tree by the lake. Slowly students and staff trickle into the yard but Mr. Bednar still doesn’t appear. Cale has the genius idea that he might be supervising a different part of the grounds, and the five of them make the trek up the hill. The man in question is sitting on a bench near the edge of the property, watching a group of elementary kids play in the sandpit.

“Mr. Bednar,” Nate shouts, even though the group is still a hundred and fifty yards away from him, “We have a question!”

There’s no response. The older man doesn’t give them the time of day, instead focusing on a particular patch of flowers that seem to be dwindling in health. Tyson tries this time to get his attention. “O Captain, my Captain!”

The English teacher waves them over enthusiastically, chuckling to himself as he watches the boys race each other to see who gets there first. Charlotte and Fran are hot on their heels, not wanting to miss any information that might be vital.

“What’s going on?” The older man asks, looking for a reason to explain the sudden outburst of five students approaching him on the break.

Tyson pulls the annual out from his jacket and flips it to the page he marked with a piece of Fran’s stationary kit. “What’s the Society for Banned and Burned Books? None of us have ever seen the club offered at Welton?”

Suddenly, everyone is being pulled closer and Mr. Bednar is speaking in hushed tones. “Don’t you dare mention it to anyone,” he says, and the look in his eyes tells Fran he means business. “That little club nearly got me expelled, and if the administration catches whiff of it again my goose will be cooked. What fun it was, though, to sneak out under the cover of darkness and read things that actually expanded our minds.” When he realizes none of the children in front of him understand what he’s going on about, Mr. Bednar clarifies. “The name implies what we were all about. We’d read books that had been banned by the school board or things European regimes set ablaze. It was thrilling. I have a feeling I wouldn’t be the scholar I am today if it hadn't been for the Society.”

The bell rings again, signalling the return of classes. Everyone thanks the teacher for his honesty, and with a heavy sigh begins the trek back to the school building. When the group is almost within earshot of other staff they hear Mr. Bednar shout, “It met twice a month!”

Later in the evening, at dinner, a folded up piece of paper makes its way to the table where the girls were eating dinner. Charlotte opens it quickly, knowing it’s from the boys, and Fran presses against her side to read it. We’re resurrecting the Society tonight. You guys in? it says in Nate’s chicken scratch. Fran looks up to see them staring at her, waiting for an answer. Charlotte looks at her friend in silent deliberation, and a second later they’ve both made up their minds. Three nods, the group’s secret code for yes, is thrown in the boys’ direction, and she catches Tyson fist pumping out of the corner of her eye.

“How are we doing this?” Fran asks Cale as everyone exits the dining hall. “We barely know what it’s even about.”

He just shrugs. “There was a package on Tys’s desk when he got back from class. It had a bunch of books and a note signed J.B. We all just assumed it was from Mr. Bednar.”

It seems to be the only explanation Fran’s going to get. Honestly, the idea of breaking the rules for once in her life is incredibly enticing, so there’s no way she’s letting the boys carry on without her. There’s no doubt that Charlotte is already planning the escape route to the small cave just off Welton’s property, so it seems her fate is decided. As Fran climbs the stairs she discusses logistics with Cale and learns that Tyson has it all figured out – after all the staff have gone to sleep, everyone will sneak out of bed and meet in the dormitory’s west stairwell before running across the yard to avoid being caught. It will be easy enough and Fran isn't worried. As long as she brings a treat to distract Spot, Dr. Sakic’s dog, things should go off without a hitch. At the landing for her floor she says her goodbyes to Cale before skipping down the hallway.

Fran spends the next few hours pacing the length of her bed. Charlotte tries to calm her nerves, but it’s no use. She’s just as excited and keyed-up as Fran, so together they pass the time by making up silly songs. It takes them to lights out in the blink of an eye, and when Nancy comes in to give a final warning there’s a full blown concert in the works, complete with hairbrush microphones.

“Good night girls,” she says, a knowing smile on her face. She definitely notices the electric excitement running through the room, bouncing rapidly between the two girls, but doesn’t say anything.

Charlotte says good night for the both of them as Fran slips into the hall to use the bathroom. When she returns, her roommate is perched on the windowsill, book in hand. The pair of them have to find quiet ways to distract from the slow passage of time, not wanting to risk staff members staying up to check on them if they’re too loud. Sighing gently as she flops onto her bed, Fran begins to daydream about what it would be like to live the life she truly dreams of, the one prophesied in Mr. Bednar’s exercise. Apparently she spends longer than anticipated in the fantasy because Charlotte is trying desperately to get her attention.

“It’s been hours, everyone has to be asleep,” she whispers. “The boys are probably waiting for us. Come on.”

A quick peek out the door confirms Charlotte’s suspicions – slumber has overtaken the residents of Welton Academy. The pair of them slip on school issued coats and boots, and do their best to silence the door’s creaking hinges. Luckily they were given a room at the end of the corridor and they leave with little issue. Cale and Tyson are waiting in the stairwell as planned, but Nate is nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Nate?” Charlotte asks, pecking Tyson on the cheek in greeting.

“He went ahead to do reconnaissance,” Cale explains.

That makes sense, especially for Nate, and without another moment’s hesitation the group departs. They grab Nate on the ground floor and scurry through the darkness. No one speaks until the school grounds are well behind them, too anxious the plan would fail if even a peep was uttered. The woods offer a sound barrier and the friends chat freely, fretting about upcoming midterm examinations and the looming Ivy League application deadline. Fran’s insides twist slightly when Cale brings it up, worried about how her father will respond to her lack of applications, but the thought is thrown to the back of her mind when everyone screeches to a halt outside the final destination.

The cave they decided to sneak to is more of a large rock pile, but it will do the trick. It’s quite spacious – the five of them will fit without any issue. Nate’s the first one in, followed by Tyson. Charlotte and Fran scuttle in soon after, and Cale brings up the rear, rolling a small boulder over the ‘door’ to hopefully keep out animals interested in intruding. Once the dust settles and the group is comfortable to the best of their abilities, Tyson pulls the package left for him from his jacket and clears his throat.

“Welcome to the inaugural meeting of the reinvisioned Society for Banned and Burned Books.”

The words send shivers down Fran’s spine. It’s thrilling to be here with her friends, doing something frowned upon by mainstream society. They’ll all be dead if anyone at Welton ever figures out what is going on, but she’d gladly sink all of her life prospects if it meant spending time with her friends. She can’t wait to see what the adventure brings.

Nate snickers from beside Fran. “You don’t have to be so dramatic about it, Tys, just get on with it. We don’t have all night.”

The comment earns him a death glare, but Tyson continues with less performative lustre. “We were given this package, presumably by Mr. Bednar, to expand our minds and create memories that will last long after we leave Welton.” Sad smiles are shared, none of them wanting to think about the end of an era that’s drawing closer. There’s a slight voice crack as he speaks again, and it echoes off the stone walls. “Is everyone willing to take the oath so we can begin?”

“Jesus Christ, are we joining a cult?” Charlotte quips, but the smile on her face gives away the giddiness she’s feeling. Head nods come from the rest of the group, and the unofficial officiant gets started.

“It says to put up your right hand,” Tyson says, “And repeat after me. I solemnly swear to protect the secrecy of the Society. I swear to come in with an open mind, and let my potential flourish. I will use the Society to make lasting memories and to become a multi-dimensional person who thinks for themselves. The world is mine.”

Everyone repeats the words, voices mixing together until they’re indistinguishable from one another. With the first order of business out of the way, Tyson sits down and takes a deeper look at what was dropped on his desk – a worn paper explaining how the club works, a reading list, and a few books to get them started. Titles include The Grapes of Wrath, The Catcher in the Rye, Ulysses, and Animal Farm. Fran notices that all the books have been banned or burned in at least two countries: it seems the name of The Society is very literal. It also seems that Mr. Bednar hoped they would stay true to form as the club moulds to fit their needs and desires.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Cale insists. “We have to be back before everyone starts waking up. Sakic is an early riser.”

They spend the next couple of hours reading aloud and laughing together. After a quick vote it is decided the inaugural book will be The Catcher in the Rye since it seemed interesting, and then they will work their way through the others. Whenever it’s Nate’s turn to read he speaks in different voices and overextends his hand motions; it keeps everyone in stitches.

Before Fran can register how long it’s truly been, Cale checks his watch and alerts the group that it’s nearing three. If they want to get at least a few hours of sleep they need to return to Welton now. Reluctantly, everyone packs up. The trip back to school is silent, exhaustion seeping into their bones and making it hard to think about anything else besides sleep. By the time Fran climbs the stairs to her dormitory floor she can barely keep her eyes open. Charlotte says goodbye to the boys on her behalf, and Fran’s asleep before the other girl slips into their shared room.

A sluggishness encapsulates the group for the entirety of the next day. It seems that no one slept well, all tired eyes and slow movements. Strange looks are given by other students but they’re fairly easy to ignore – Fran is just desperately trying to get through the day so she can crash again. The years of strict, regimented routine at Welton have her circadian rhythm working in a particular way, and staying up late certainly did a number on her. Charlotte is faring better than everyone else– her body used to sleep deprivation on account of time change. It’s all Fran can do to stay awake during English, her final class of the day. If Mr. Bednar notices her wavering consciousness, he doesn’t say anything. In fact, Fran thinks she catches him winking at Tyson, as though he knows just what they were up to last night. Today’s lesson flies right over her head, and as soon as the bell rings she’s scrambling to pick up her books.

“Feeling a little bit under the weather today, Miss Winters?” he asks, closing his lesson plan.

Fran searches his face for any sign that he might snitch on her for being unresponsive in class but finds nothing. “Just a bit tired, Captain,” she quips. “Was up terribly late trying to get comfortable. My mattress has been giving me issues.”

“I’ll be sure to alert Nancy of your troubles. She’ll hate to know you’ve been uncomfortable.”

She knows damn well he won’t say anything, and that he truly knows the reason for her fatigue. However, she appreciates the game he’s playing. That way, if things don’t go to plan and the group gets busted by the administration, his hands will be clean. Fran would hate to see his teaching career blown apart by a group of raucous teens like her own dear friends.

As soon as she’s back in her room Fran crashes onto the bed with a thud. Muttering a jumbled package of words to Charlotte that resemble a request to wake her up for dinner, she climbs under the covers and falls asleep for the second time of the day.

☼☼☼☼

Fran’s body adjusts to the deficit in rest after the second meeting. It’s shorter, with Cale keeping a much closer eye on the time, but still fun. They’re nearly halfway through the novel, and votes are already being cast for what to read next. It’s getting easier for Fran to balance school and the club. The term has picked up, but despite the homework mounting on her desk she’s happy. Her grades are flawless, more than adequate for admission to an Ivy League, but she could care less. No one besides her friends know of her decision to only apply to other institutions, so Fran’s academic success gives her father enough false hope to let her live a mostly uninterrupted life at Welton. Things are good, and she often forgets that in a matter of months everything she knows will be completely turned on its head.

When Fran gets to Mr. Bednar’s classroom one afternoon, she’s surprised to find it empty. There’s no sign he’s been there for hours and worry fills her brain. What if someone saw the group sneaking out last night and is planting the blame on Mr. Bednar because he’s unconventional? Fran isn’t sure what she’d do if that happens, as he’s one of the only reasons she still shows an interest in school.

“Where’s Captain?” Charlotte asks the group, but no one has an answer for him. Tyson and Cale shrug indifferently, and Nate is too busy trying to catch the attention of a girl he’s been crushing on to pay any attention to the blonde. Fran rolls her eyes in disgust, upset Nate doesn’t seem to care about their missing teaching, and tries not to focus on the sting of him paying attention to someone that isn’t her

“I hope he’s alright,” she frets quietly.

As if Cale can sense how much worry is in her words, he places a hand on Fran’s shoulder in a comforting manner. “He’s fine, Fran. Probably just late returning from the bathroom.”

On cue, the eccentric English teacher peeks his head through the open door. “Well, come on! It’s one of the last nice days out,” Mr. Bednar chirps happily. “We’re outside today. No need to bring your books.”

No one even bats an eye at the instruction. Lessons like this occur at least twice a week, and Fran and all the other students look forward to them. It’s an invigorating and refreshing way to use their brains. The teacher leads everyone to the small courtyard that’s adjacent to the humanities wing, and stops in the middle. On instinct, the class huddles around him.

“I need three students to help demonstrate,” Mr. Bednar begins. “Mr. Makar, Mr. Jost, and Miss Tennant, care to do the honours?”

The three of them erupt into a chorus of yeses, eager to please their favourite instructor, though Charlotte shies away at the use of her last name.

“Well then, that settles it. Everyone else, please move to the sides,” he says, waiting patiently for any stragglers to follow instruction. “Now, you three, I want you to walk around the courtyard until I tell you to stop.”

On his signal, Fran’s friends set off, and she watches in confusion. At first, all three are walking in sync: turning corners at the same time and taking equal paces. Tyson is the first to break the pattern, widening his gait and letting his arms swing. Charlotte takes note of his divergence and begins to do her own thing. She twirls and skips about, giggling the entire time. Only Cale stays on the original route, looking every so often towards Mr. Bednar in hopes of positive feedback.

“That’s quite enough,” the older man says. “Thank you. Now can anyone tell me what happened?” It’s silent, his voice echoing off the stone walls and arches. “No one? Alright. What happened was an experiment on conformity. Our subjects started off the same, but soon after Mr. Jost got a little bored and became more relaxed. He walked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Ms. Tennant threw caution to the wind completely, dancing around. One could hardly call it walking. Only Mr. Makar stayed within what he thought were the parameters of the assignment. He was timid, searching for approval.”

The lesson continues, and Mr. Bednar makes a point of explaining that conformity makes things extremely boring, both in literature and life. Fran understands immediately and takes the message to heart. It would be so much better to live life on her terms, and from this moment forward she’s determined to put her happiness first. Near the end of class, everyone is unleashed to do their own walking. The class walks at varying paces, and Fran joins her roommate in skipping around in a circle. Only Nate refuses to walk, and when asked about it he shrugs.

“Exercising my right not to walk, Captain,” he says, which earns an eye roll and a smirk from the teacher.

“You’re certainly illustrating the point, Mr. MacKinnon.”

Later that night at the meeting, over pages of The Grapes of Wrath, Fran gushes about how Mr. Bednar’s lessons make her truly feel alive. Her friends agree, all particularly inspired by the passionate teacher. However, they share looks amongst themselves – proud Fran finally feels secure enough in what she wants to think about sticking up to her father. Although almost double in length than the previous novel, the group is making solid progress and is on track to finish the book before the holiday break.

Tonight Nate brought a saxophone, and after reading some of his own prose he breaks into song. The tune isn’t distinguishable because he isn’t much of a musician, but it still makes Fran laugh hysterically. Tyson joins in, crooning some words over the melody. Soon an impromptu jam session is in full effect: Cale works out a beat on a steel drum found just outside of their secret hideaway, and Charlotte and Fran provide handclaps and harmonies. The number ends in a fit of giggles tumbling from everyone’s lips, and Fran has trouble stifling them once she reaches Welton's property again. Sleep comes easy once back in her room, and Fran dreams of creating a lifetime of adventures with her friends.

☼☼☼☼

It’s a bright Tuesday when Fran spots the flyer on the bulletin board in the lobby. There, handwritten in large scrawling script, are the words Writing Seminar for Young Authors. She’s intrigued and reads all the information available on the sheet of paper. It seems to be taking place at Henley Hall, Welton’s sister school, and will run for nearly the rest of the year. Fran copies the contact information into her pocketbook and heads upstairs to compose a piece of literature worthy of admission.

Charlotte finds her there, several hours later, surrounded in a large pile of crumpled paper.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Fran slams her pen down on her notebook a smidge too aggressively, causing the other girl to flinch slightly. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “I’m just trying to get this submission perfect before I drop it off in the morning.”

“Oh!” Charlotte chirps excitedly. “Your dad is letting you write articles in the school paper again?”

A silence covers the room like a thick blanket. “Uh, not exactly,” Fran murmurs. “Henley is doing a writing seminar and I’m going to apply. My father doesn’t know.”

Her roommate and closest friend of nearly ten years shoots Fran a nervous glance. “What are you going to do when he finds out?”

Frustrated, Fan pushes the desk chair out and tug at the roots of her hair. “Goddamnit, Lottie, can’t you just be excited for me? I’m finally doing something I want to do and not caring about what anyone else thinks. Who’s side are you even on? You gonna call up my folks, let them know my plans, and have me shipped off to a refining school? Huh?”

“Calm down, Fran. It was just a question,” she sighs. “I’d never fink. Just thought you should consider what would happen. What are you writing?”

She gestures to the scraps littering the ground, and allows Charlotte to read one of her many drafts. She studies the words intently before darting out of the room, most likely to read it to a crowd of students and embarrass Fran. She likes to keep her writing a secret.

“Charlotte Tennant! Get back here!” Fran screeches, tearing after her.

The blonde’s giggles echo off the walls. “Help! I’m being chased by Agatha Christie!”

Cale narrowly avoids a collision with Charlotte as he rounds the corner, and Tyson can’t get out of the way fast enough. She runs right into her boyfriend’s chest, knocking them both over. After explaining why she was running and urging the rest of her friends to read the piece, everyone returns to Fran and Charlotte’s room for a study group. They insist Fran has to submit the very version Charlotte read, saying it was the best one. Fran lets them flatter her, and decides to drop it off in the morning. After all, Henley Hall is just down the road. The rest of the night is spent collaborating on Latin and laughing at Nate’s antics. When Nancy comes in to remind them of lights out, she finds all five teenagers huddled at the small window, looking out at the small flakes of snow that are falling.

“Look Nancy, it’s the first snowfall,” Charlotte says as she beckons her over.

The older woman smiles fondly at the group before nodding her head. “Beautiful isn’t it?” she muses. “Now, the boys better scurry out of here before they get caught.”

With a chorus of jovial goodbyes and plans to make a snowman tomorrow at break, they leave to avoid getting in trouble from their floor monitor. Fran and Charlotte tidy up before turning the light out, and both fall asleep feeling hopeful for what’s to come.

The next morning before classes start, Fran runs to Mr. Bednar’s office to get permission to visit Henley Hall at lunch. Welton requires staff permission for students to leave campus, but it doesn’t have to be from the headmaster. There’s no doubt in her mind that if she goes to Dr. Sakic he’ll alert her parents of Fran’s newfound extracurricular activity and it will be kiboshed before she can even begin. The beloved English teacher is enthusiastic in his approval, and kindly demands that Fran keeps him updated. She sits the rest of the morning with a mixture of anxiety and excitement bubbling in her stomach.

As soon as the bell signifying lunch rings, Fran’s throat goes dry. What if her writing is terrible and the coordinator laughs in her face? She’s not sure she could handle the rejection.

“Don’t worry about it, Franny,” Tyson comforts. “They’d be stupid not to accept you.”

“You’re the best writer I’ve ever seen,” Cale chimes in.

Nate turns around and ruffles her hair. “Who’s F. Scott Fitzgerald? I only know Francesca Winters.”

The praise boosts her confidence, and by the time Fran waves them farewell at the gates she’s walking with her head up. As long as she gives it her best shot, Fran decides she’ll be happy with the results. The short walk is idyllic – freshly fallen snow coats the trees, and it doesn’t look as though anyone has driven down the road. Even Henley Hall looks nice. It’s smaller than Welton, and in Fran’s opinion uglier, but also has high academic standards for its students. From what she’s heard though, the staff members are kinder. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a terrible place to receive an education.

Once inside, Fran looks around aimlessly, trying to find a clue that would lead her in the direction of where she needs to go. A middle-aged woman, far younger than most of her teachers, approaches Fran with a kind smile. “Are you lost dear?” she asks, waiting patiently for a response.

“I’m afraid so,” Fran says, “Could you point me in the direction of Ms. Robertson’s office? I have a submission for her seminar to drop off.”

The woman laughs heartily, and it echoes slightly in the emptiness of the entryway. “You must be from Welton.” When Fran nods your head, she wraps an arm around the girl’s shoulder and begins walking. “I’m Ms. Robertson, and I’m pleased to say you’re the first from Welton to show any interest.”

Fran isn’t surprised by this. Headmaster Sakic assigns all extracurriculars, and she lets the teacher know this as she follows her. Ms. Robertson nods in understanding, but her lips are pursed in disapproval. It’s only then that Fran realizes Welton’s practices might not be as common as she once assumed.

The teacher’s office is tucked in behind her empty classroom, and Fran pauses to examine how she chose to decorate the space. Pictures of Walt Whitman line the walls, along with other notable poets. “I primarily teach poetry,” Ms. Robertson explains. Fran can’t help but think that she’s the Mr. Bednar of Henley, even though she hardly knows her. The teacher just exudes the same kind of energy.

Once inside, Fran tentatively hands her the paper – even though she seems friendly Fran is still nervous. She’s the first adult to read any of her creative writing.

“This is good. Really good,” Ms. Robertson praises. “You’re in.”

Fran is dumbfounded. Sure, there was a good chance she would have gotten in anyways because she isn't the world’s worst author, but to have someone other than her friends say she’s good at writing is affirming. “Th-thank you,” she stutters.

“No, thank you for bringing this to me. I can’t wait to see what else you’re capable of. The first meeting is on Monday, and when you come I need to see letters from your parents and Dr. Sakic saying you’re allowed to participate.”

Fuck. It slipped her mind that they might need permission from guardians. Fran will just have to figure something out, some way of getting around it. If her father ever found out she is doing something expressly against his orders he’d disown her. Oh well – now that she’s had a taste of success Fran is determined to see this through.

She explains that it won’t be a problem, and that she’s excited to be a part of this. After getting instructions on how to find the exit Fran leaves with a pep in her step. Once outside, she skips the entire way back to Welton.

☼☼☼☼

Somehow Fran manages to make it through nearly the entire weekend without someone bursting her bubble. It’s Sunday afternoon, and she’s planning how to forge the letter of permission from her father. She can’t risk sounding too youthful, but also doesn't want to appear too formal. Getting to work, Fran loads the typewriter and begins writing. Imitating her father is easier than she thought, and when Cale pokes his head through the open door she’s almost done.

“You coming to today’s meeting?” he asks, entering the room to sit at the foot of Fran’s bed.

She continues to clack at the keys of the machine. “Of course,” Fran replies. “Just need to finish this up.”

The pair of them sit in silence as she works, and a few minutes later Fran is placing the letter in an envelope. “Do you mind if we stop at Dr. Sakic’s office? I have to get a letter of permission from him.”

“Sure. How’d you get your father to say yes? He practically kicked you off the paper.” Cale’s question is legitimate, but surely he had to know Fran didn’t ask her father. That would have been an automatic rejection.

“I didn’t,” she sighs. “I wrote the letter myself. Sakic won’t call to double check with him. Besides, my parents live just too far away to want to make the trip here unless they have to.

Fran doesn’t miss the pointed look her friend gives. Cale’s a stickler for the rules, sure, but Fran knows he’s worried for her. If her father finds out she disrespected him like this, on top of not applying to any Ivy Leagues, she’ll be in a lot of trouble. Cale stays quiet while Fran chats with the headmaster, only offering a polite farewell. As the two of them walk to the cave to meet the others, he speaks.

“You better not get caught.”

The five words send chills down her spine. He’s right and Fran knows it. If she doesn't play her cards right it could end badly. Fran begins to regret her decision, but then she remembers how Mr. Bednar constantly encourages her classmates to be their people and do what they want. Whatever happens, she’ll never go back to living anything other than the life she wants to lead.

Conversation pivots when Fran doesn't respond, and the pair discuss what Tyson will bring to this week’s meeting. He’s tonight’s moderator and is known for picking obscure short stories to read after everyone has gotten through the assigned chapters. Cale bets nothing will be in English, and Fran can’t help but agree, because Tyson likes to expand everyone’s perceptions while being a little ridiculous. It’s good though – without him Fran would have a much harder time being exposed to new things. Between him and Mr. Bednar she’s doing a pretty good job learning about the world outside the traditional American viewpoint.

The meeting lasts a few hours, long enough for the sun to have disappeared and the moon to peak up from the shadows. The five of them have a grand time laughing and reading. Welton has a relatively relaxed weekend schedule, so Fran isn’t worried about being caught off school grounds. In fact, most of the staff members travel home if they can, leaving only essential personnel. Society meetings never fail to put Fran in a better mood, and she leaves feeling hopeful about the week to come. Besides, tomorrow she starts learning how to make her dreams a reality with the start of the writing seminar. When she bids everyone but Charlotte goodnight, pep returns to her step. The Brit sees it but chooses not to comment, secretly excited to see Fran unlock her potential.

☼☼☼☼

With the addition of Henley Hall’s writing seminar into Fran’s schedule, things change slightly. She manages to stay up-to-date on coursework, still excelling in all of her classes. What free time she has is now split between working on the rough draft of her novel and attending Society meetings with friends. It’s challenging at times, but there’s no other way she’d rather spend her last year of secondary school.

Mr. Bednar continues to provide thoughtful lessons that inspire. He is, by far, Fran’s favourite teacher at Welton, and she’s a tad upset she won’t get another year with him. It doesn’t matter much though, because Fran is positive he’ll stick with her for the rest of her life.

☼☼☼☼

December is approaching fast, and it’s now pitch black when Fran returns from Henley Hall. Other students are returning from their extracurricular endeavors or using the evening free time to play in the snow so at least she isn’t alone in the dark. As she approaches Welton’s dormitory wing Fran pushes her hands deeper into her pockets. It’s chilly – much colder than any other night this year. Just as she reaches to open the door, Fran hears sniffles from just around the corner. The culprit is a curly-haired brunette she could recognize from a mile away.

“Tys?”

He looks up, eyes brimmed with tears. Fran racks her mind to remember why he would be out so late, and she recalls Tyson saying there was an extra practice tonight before the tournament on the weekend. Despite how her joints seize from the cold, Fran drops to sit beside her friend. Tyson leans closer, resting his head on her shoulder. “What’s the matter?” she asks, pulling his much larger body closer to wrap in a tight hug.

“My parents don’t even care about me enough to send me an original birthday gift,” he chokes out. “The got me the same fucking desk set as last year.”

Her heart breaks for her friend. The Jost’s have always been detached, but this is an entirely new phenomenon for them. How could they not remember what they got their only son for his birthday last year? This is a whole new level of not caring. Fran had celebrated his special day at lunch with the rest of the group, and had plans to give Gwilym his gift after she got back from the seminar.

Hoping to find something to improve her friend’s mood, Fran stands and pulls him to his feet. “Well you know,” she says, tapping her fingers on her chin in faux thought. “This deskset looks extremely aerodynamic.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. In fact, it looks like it was destined to fly.”

Tyson looks at her like she has three heads. “Go on,” Fran urges, “I present to you, Tyson Jost, the world’s first unmanned flying desk set.”

With a scream that verges on primal, Tyson throws the package over the edge of the walkway with fervor. The two of them watch as its contents spill onto the ground, both shocked he actually completed the task. A sideways glance at the boy standing beside her lets Fran know he feels better. They both head inside then, laughing once she remembers how Nate nearly singed his eyebrows off in chemistry earlier in the day. The rest of the night is surprisingly relaxed, with Fran making sure to properly celebrate her friend and catching up on the study hall she missed while at Henley. Nate is still working on that godforsaken radio, and his obsession with it is becoming concerning. He chimes in when something gets particularly interesting, but otherwise doesn’t say much, too concerned with rerouting the contraption’s cabinet wires.

The next morning, at the daily assembly, Dr. Sakic lets it be known that the first round of Ivy League acceptances have been released. A majority of Fran’s classmates have their names called, some of them multiple times, and her stomach sinks slightly. She isn’t upset that she didn’t apply. No, she’s upset because it means she’s going to have to start dodging the topic around her parents. None of Fran’s friends are mentioned, but that’s because they all have jobs lined up for after graduation.

As she shuffles out of the chapel, Mr. Pratt, the spry music teacher, pulls Fran aside. “There’s a call for you,” he explains. “It’s your parents. They’re on line three, so you can tell that to Sylvia.”

Fran’s hands shake and she climbs the stairs to the main office as slowly as possible. What could they possibly want? After repeating the information Mr. MacInnis told her, Fran is given a phone receiver with instructions to keep it under ten minutes.

“Hello?”

The deep boom of her father greets Fran’s ears. “Francesca,” he says, not nearly as cheery as she hoped he would sound. “I was speaking to some friends of mine and they informed me the first round of Ivy acceptance notices were released. Did you hear anything?”

She sucks in a breath, letting it burn her lungs. “I didn’t,” Fran admits. It isn’t technically a lie, but it also isn’t the whole truth. “Not many people did though. I’m sure they just haven’t gotten to my application yet.”

Her father lets out a noise that’s a mixture between a hum and a rumble. “With your grades I’m sure you’ll hear soon. Which did you apply to again? I’m not sure you ever told your mother and I.”

All the moisture leaves Fran’s throat. “All of them sir,” she croaks, praying he doesn’t catch her in the lie.

“That’s my girl. Bet you’ve got your eyes set on Harvard.”

“Of course sir.”

The phone call ends a few moments later when Fran hears the bell signalling the start of class. She’ll get a slip from the secretary to excuse her tardiness, but Fran doesn't want to listen to her father gloat about how she’ll be the first child in the family to attend a prestigious university for another second. After saying goodbye Fran is left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Eventually he’s going to find out, and she isn't sure what will happen then.

By the time the weekend rolls around Fran is exhausted. Though she’s handling everything well, sleep is pretty far down the list of priorities and she definitely isn't getting enough of it. She sleeps well into the morning, only being woken up when Charlotte whacks her with a pillow.

“Get up you lame duck, we have to be at the cave in fifteen minutes.”

Fran groans, a strangled sound that bounces off the furniture. “Can I just skip this one meeting?” she asks. “I’ll attend the next six in a row.”

Charlotte sees right through the ruse. “Fran, we attend every meeting,” she sighs. “Besides, you’re the moderator today. What kind of meeting will it be if you don’t show up?”

Begrudgingly, Fran shuffles out of bed. With help from Charlotte, who tidies her space while she gets ready, the pair are only a few minutes late. Had she been by herself it would have been well over thirty minutes before Fran made an appearance.

Everyone else is already there, smoking the pipes Nate smuggled from his father’s collection the last time he visited home. “Look who finally decided to show up,” Tyson quips, coughing as he exhales.

“Shut the fuck up, Jost,” Fran huffs, stepping over the boy to sit in her regular seat, only to find it occupied.

A girl she’s never seen before is sitting beside Nate, gripping his arm excitedly and hanging on every word he says. The sight makes her stomach twist into an intricate knot, and looking at the two of them cuddled against one another makes Fran realize her feelings towards Nate might not be strictly platonic for the second time in their relationship. She shoots a questioning glance at Tyson, who just shrugs. On the other side of him, Cale’s got a girl with strawberry blonde hair perched on his lap. Neither of them look like they attend Welton or Henley, as they’re dressed very casually, in clothing that would never pass inspection at the boarding schools.

“Oh! Am I sitting in your seat?” Nate’s girl asks. “Nathan said it was alright.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Fran grits, turning her attention to the tall boy who strives to make her life as difficult as possible. “Want to tell me what this is about MacKinnon? You’ve got a lot of gall co-opting my meeting.”

Nate stands dramatically, tossing his scarf over his shoulder and getting giggles from the newcomers. “This,” he begins, “is my attempt at breaking down the barriers between public and private schools. Marjorie and Annabelle are from Ridgeway High, and Cale and I thought they might like to see what life at Hell-ton was really like.”

“Plus,” the one Fran assumes is Annabelle says, “We might be joining The Society.”

The comment causes quite the upheaval among the group. Tyson stands up immediately, furious with both Nate and Cale. “You didn’t think to let us know?” He seethes, arms failing as he speaks, and Fran feels a little smug that he’s defending her meeting with such fervor.

Charlotte stands gingerly beside him, guiding him to sit back down. “Tys is right, boys,” she says gently, ever the peacekeeper. “You should have brought this up beforehand. We can’t have anyone really knowing of this little club we have going on.”

The other one, Cale’s current object of affection, goes to speak but Fran cuts her off. “Please don’t say you won’t tell,” she sighs, “Because there are a million other ways it could get out. And I for one don’t want my father to pull me out of Welton and ship me off to refinery school because he found out I was reading unauthorized books.”

Everyone agrees with her. It’s agreed upon that the girls will leave after the meeting and never return. They’re to pretend as though they have never met a single member of the Society, regardless of how friendly they’ve become with Cale and Nate. The boys look sad, but Fran can’t find it in her to be sorry for them. Adding members was never discussed, and the two boys most certainly shouldn’t have been so reckless. Word travels fast in the real world.

After the sudden housekeeping issue Fran leads one of the funnest society meetings yet. Ignoring the framework the group had originally set, no chapters of a published book are read. Instead, each member takes turns coming up with bits of prose on the fly. Eventually the girls get tired of the group’s antics and leave, once again swearing they won’t tell anyone. The five original members continue on for a while longer, making sure to head back to campus early. Tonight the kitchen staff are serving spaghetti and meatballs, and Fran will be damned if she misses out.

Fran awakes the next morning to find that all students are to report to the auditorium for an emergency meeting. A throng of tired teenagers follow the much more alert group of young kids. She shuffles into a row of seats with Charlotte and tries to search for the boys. Due to the suddenness of everything, the roommates couldn’t meet up with them, and find the spots they would usually sit quickly occupied. It doesn’t matter much though because if any of them were caught talking there would be serious repercussions.

“Good morning everyone,” Headmaster Sakic addresses the crowd. “It was brought to my attention yesterday evening that there is an unauthorized club of sorts here at Welton. Known as the Society for Banned and Burned Books, its sole purpose is to disobey the rules and curriculum. Anyone who knows about it or is associated with it is to report to my office immediately and turn themselves in. A thorough investigation will be conducted, so it is advised you heed this warning carefully.”

“Those fucking bitches,” Fran seethes. “I’m going to murder Nate.”

Though just as pissed off as her friend, Charlotte handles her emotions with much more grace. “Relax Fran, and don’t go doing anything stupid. We just have to think about what we’re going to do next.”

Fran knows exactly what she’s going to do. The next time she sees Nathan MacKinnon and Cale Makar she’s going to punch them in the teeth. Somehow Charlotte talks her down, but she’s still irate. How dare they be so careless? Fran spends the rest of the day ignoring them. No one goes to turn themselves in to Dr. Sakic, but she almost does it out of spite so she can implicate Cale and Nate. Fran decides against it of course, knowing it would only hurt her, but she’s definitely going to spend the next few days thinking of how to get them back.

It turns out she doesn’t have to find a way to make them feel bad about their actions. Mr. Bednar comes and finds them in the afternoon and expresses his disappointment in them. After a short lecture on how they put their friends, and themselves, at risk, the teacher leaves them to reflect on how to apologize. They show up on the girl’s dormitory floor later in the evening with a plate of cookies.

“The chef supervised us in the kitchen,” Cale explains. “We’re really sorry. It was dumb of us to invite those girls. Will you be able to forgive us?”

Nate nods, tacking his own statement on to the end of his friend’s. “We never wanted to put you guys in danger, especially you Fran. I don’t want anything to get in the way of those fancy author dreams of yours.”

Fran blushes at the comment, but lets them come inside. Their apology is sincere, and all is forgiven with laughs over milk and chocolate cookies. Nothing comes of Dr. Sakic’s threat in the coming days, so clearly the investigation was not thorough. Perhaps the girls were better at keeping their mouths shut than Fran previously thought. Wanting to still play it safe, the group decides to not host any more meetings until after the holiday break.

☼☼☼☼

It’s a lonely break for Fran, spent mostly alone in her bedroom. At every opportunity her father is boasting about her academic achievements to anyone who will listen through the various holiday parties he corrals the rest of the family to. The whole town seems quite impressed that Fran is poised to attend an Ivy League, though it’s a ruse. No one knows that of course, and they all except she’ll be making an announcement on which school she’ll attend shortly. The holidays pass slowly, and Fran eats more than her fair share of mashed potatoes and gravy. Since her father must still work throughout her time at home, Fran is left to her own devices throughout the day. Though her mother loves Fran she’s docile, and often doesn’t talk to Fran unless she has to.

Fran spends an enormous amount of time writing. When she returns to school there’s only three weeks before she has to turn in the first draft of her novel. Hours are spent crafting scenes in painstaking detail – writing and rewriting until she’s happy with the quality of her work. At night Fran plays board games with her family, and makes up lies for her father’s questions. He’s becoming more creative, asking ones that demand specific answers. However she’s able to manage, mostly thanks to Cale’s insane wealth of knowledge on countless educational institutions. Without him she’d be lost at sea.

She’s extremely happy to be back at Welton, so much so she rushes ahead of her parents, not heeding her father’s warnings. Once sequestered into the auditorium, Fran tries to get permission to sit with Charlotte, but is immediately rejected.

“Sir, why can’t I? Other students are sitting together,” she states, and the glare you receive from her father could pierce a soul.

“After the stunt you just pulled?” he grits. “You’re lucky I don’t wheel you out of here and take you home. You will sit beside us. That’s final.”

The call of his name has him put his focus elsewhere, and Fran’s mother gives her a sympathetic smile. “He means well, dear,” she says. “After all, your father is right. We have certain appearances we must keep up since we aren’t of such high status.”

Before Fran can try and make a rebuttal, the procession enters the auditorium. Headed by her three male best friends and Tyson’s roommate Ryan, who have been tasked with carrying the banners, the teaching and administrative staff shuffle into the room. It’s silent – everyone not-so-patiently waiting for this assembly to be over. Undoubtedly Fran’s least favourite part of attending Welton, the term's opening assemblies are extremely dull and have made her consider leaving on multiple occasions.

“Welcome back to another term at Welton,” Dr. Sakic preaches. “We’ll be sure to have an excellent time. Now students, I must ask you the most pertinent of questions, one that’s asked at the start of every academic season. What are the four pillars?”

The voices of hundreds of children mingle together. “Tradition, honour, discipline, excellence,” Fran mumbles, slouching slightly. A swift nudge to the ribs from her father has her standing straighter than a board. She cannot wait to be rid of him.

After what feels like two hours of listening to Dr. Sakic and other distinguished staff members speak, everyone is finally allowed to leave. Bidding her parents a quick farewell, Fran clambers up the stairs to reach her room before Charlotte. Though she loves her dearly and the blonde never fails to lift your spirits, Fran needs alone time to quickly cry. It seems no matter what she does she’ll always be a disappointment to her father. The only thing he attributes to her is receiving acceptance to a prestigious school, and she refuses to give him that.

The reunion between the group of friends is much more relaxed this time around. Everyone had only been separated for a few weeks, not months. There’s still a small level of dramatics of course. When Nate sees Fran in the hallway he tackles her to the ground in a hug.

“Nathan, get off of me!” she squeaks, words punctuated by giggles. No one seems to notice, too caught up in their own reunions and settling in for another term, but Fran catches the way his eyes soften when he looks at her and it causes heat to rise to the top of her skin. She thought the weeks spent apart would help her silly crush go away, but it’s reared its head in full force and Fran doesn’t know what to do about it.

“Never,” he shouts, dragging Fran to her feet and sequestering her up the stairs. When they arrive in his dorm room, the rest of the group is already there. Details of holidays are shared, as are hopes for the school semester. It’s their final one at Welton, and Fran wants to make it count.

In just over five months she’ll graduate, leaving behind every comfort she’s known for the past six years. “Hell-ton has been our home for so long,” Fran sighs as she rests her head on Tyson’s shoulder. “What are we going to do once we’re gone?”

“Do whatever the fuck we want without teachers breathing down our necks.”

He has a point. For so long they’ve all been forced to act in a certain way that it will be nice to do as one pleases.

Charlotte hums in agreement, standing to stretch her legs. “Come on Fran, we should get back to our room. You’ve got to finish writing that one scene.”

Begrudgingly she untangles herself from Nate’s covers. She’s right, but Fran would rather not think about it. “Char, it’s killing me,” she whines. “Can I just not think about it for a while?”

She carefully reminds her of your deadline, and it’s enough to have Fran bounding down the flight of stairs. She really does need to get to work. The rest of the night has her stooping over her typewriter, clicking at the keys incessantly. By the time she falls asleep Fran has finished the scene and written at least three more, pushing her even closer to the finish line.

She finishes her draft a few days early, and hands it to Ms. Robertson after the workshop one night. She’s thoroughly impressed and is sure to let Fran know. The girl preens under her compliments, sure to downplay how happy she truly is. When she lets Mr. Bednar read the corrected version, he too showers Fran in praise.

“This is phenomenal, Miss Winters.”

Once again Fran is blushing, cheeks feeling much too warm for the cold winter afternoon. “Thank you Captain. It isn’t much though,” she says softly.

“Nonsense. It’s a masterpiece. Do you think I could commission you to bind me my own copy once it’s finished? I’d love to have it on my shelves.”

Fran is dumbfounded. “You want a copy of my book? But you read the greats like Twain and Fitzgerald!”

“You’re destined to be one of them, and I want to commemorate it.”

It’s then that she invites him to the final workshop in a few months' time. All participants will have their finished published works, and will take turns reading excerpts and answering questions. It’s supposed to be a mock book signing, and Fran is beyond excited. There’s nothing she wants more than for him to be there.

☼☼☼☼

Life begins to pick up speed, and Fran feels as though she’s running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Between academics, licensed extracurriculars, and society meetings she barely has enough time to sleep. It’s exhausting, but Fran feels completely satisfied. Not everyone gets the same experiences she’s been afforded, and she’s determined to make the most of it.

Mr. Bednar’s classes are still her favourite. This term the class is focussing on poetry, since the prose units were completed before the break, and every day Fran craves more. She finally learns the origin of the nickname ‘Captain’ with the reading of a particular poem, and everyone in the class increases their use of the term exponentially. Classes are spent reciting giants like Whitman and Frost, but also so-called ‘beat poets’ like Ginsberg and Kerouac. It’s easy to lose the stresses of life in their fantasies, and Fran always feels lighter when she leaves the room.

Some of her favourite lessons of the year have happened recently – namely the one on perspective. Ever the revolutionary, Mr. Bednar had everyone take turns standing on his desk, surveying the room before jumping down. A handful of students didn’t understand, but Fran found it incredibly eye-opening. Suddenly she understands why writing is so powerful – it can mean a million different things to a thousand people.

The Society for Banned and Burned Books starts to become less structured, and truthfully Fran doesn't mind. Most of the time everyone sits in the cave and discusses the ideas Mr. Bednar plants in their heads. Not many books are being read, but she’s glad. They were beginning to become a bit dull and the group was running out of titles – authors are being much more careful these days so as not to offend governing bodies. No matter what lens the club has taken, Fran is glad it exists. She’s spent countless hours fooling around with her dearest friends while enriching their minds. What more could she ask for?

Her novel is coming along swell. It passed the first and second revisions with flying colours and is now off at the printers. When Fran asks if she can print two copies, and that she doesn't mind paying the extra, Ms. Robertson is shocked.

“There’s no way you’re footing that bill! Especially because you’re giving it to someone,” she says, putting a cork in the matter. “Mr. Bednar will be delighted.”

The young mentor knows of Fran’s beloved English teacher, and is touched that she wants to do something so special for him. No one else in the group is as excited as Fran. Most of them are involved simply to pass the time or stand out on college applications, but not her. Fran is in the seminar because her soul yearns to write and she’d be a fool to deny its wishes. Writing is what she wants to do for the rest of her life, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t seriously pursue it.

☼☼☼☼

The day Fran gets her book back from the publishing house, the final round of Ivy League admissions is sent out. Her name is, of course, not on it. However, Ms. Robertson got in touch with a friend who teaches at Bryn Mawr college, and they’ve extended an offer into their creative writing program. Fran is delighted, and accepts almost immediately. The school is prestigious enough that hopefully her father can overlook the fact it’s not an Ivy.

Life goes as usual, with the day passing slowly. Tonight is the first time she’ll get to see her finished work, and will prepare for the showcase tomorrow night. She’s ecstatic, practically bouncing off the walls the entire day.

“Slow down,” Cale huffs, trying desperately to keep up with the jovial pace Fran has set.

She turns around to flash him the biggest smile she’s ever mustered. “I simply cannot, my dearest Cale, because I’m now a published author. My joy knows no limits.”

“You better not get a big head and a terrible ego,” Nate pipes in, joining the both of them in walking to the willow by the lake. He ruffles Fran’s hair and she swats his arm away.

“Shut up!”

The three of them join the other members of the group, who were able to weave through the crowds faster to claim the best spot on the grounds. Everyone spends the break joking around and chattering about tomorrow night. They’ll all be in attendance, along with Mr. Bednar. Somehow Fran has managed to keep her admittance to the seminar a secret to anyone outside of Welton and she’s quite proud of herself.

At Henley Hall, she feels electric. Seeing words that she wrote on a page, bound in leather, puts butterflies in her stomach. For possibly the first time in her life Fran feels like she’s on the right path. Reading a piece of the story out loud is exhilarating, and she can’t wait to see how the crowd responds. The question and answer section allows her to really delve into the creative process, immersing audience members in the story even more. It’s an evening spent having the time of her life, but something feels the tiniest bit off. Fran’s brain tells her something is going to go wrong when she returns to Welton.

How right she was. When she finally reaches her dormitory floor after swimming against the current of hungry teenagers, Charlotte is standing anxiously at the end of the hall.

“Your father is inside our room, and he looks absolutely peeved,” she whispers, hugging Fran tightly before running to join the others downstairs. If she’s caught loitering, detention will be her home for the next few weeks.

Taking a deep breath, Fran does her best to mask her anxiety before stepping into the room. He’s sitting at her desk, tapping his foot impatiently, and sporting a grimace that makes Fran’s stomach contract.

“Father, what are you doing here?”

It’s a dumb question – she knows exactly why he’s here. Her father doesn’t buy the weak question and chooses to ignore it completely.

“How dare you,” he broods, “Defy me and then lie about it?”

There’s no beating around the bush tonight, and Fran wishes she could be anywhere but here. “Sir, I can explain –”

“There’s nothing to explain! You made me look like a fool, telling everyone in town that my daughter, my Francesca, was going to attend an Ivy and study to become the best legal secretary in the goddamn county. That she had the pick of litter and would choose whichever offered her the biggest scholarship. Do you know how I stupid I look?”

Tears prick at the corner of Fran’s eyes, but she will them away. “Father, please,” she whispers, trying to stay strong but her voice betrays how she truly feels.

He doesn’t let up, continuing the rather one-sided argument. “And then I hear from old Mrs. Perkins that her granddaughter is coaching you in a writing seminar at Henley Hall? I told her she must have confused you with someone else because writing is a waste of time. She was incessant, and showed me the letter her granddaughter had mailed her, detailing how wonderful your novel was and she was so excited to get you a spot in a creative program at a women’s college. I was appalled.”

Now is the one chance Fran has to defend herself. “I never wanted to attend an Ivy, Sir,” she tries to explain as calmly as possible. “That’s what you wanted for me. Bryn Mawr is just as prestigious, one of the Seven Sisters. I’ll be happier there, doing what I love. I want to be a writer, Father.”

“Nonsense, Francesca. You’re seventeen, you don’t know what the hell you want.”

It goes like that, back and forth, for a while as she tries to make her father see reason. He isn’t having any of it.

“Did that new teacher, Mr. Bednar, put you up to this?”

Where her father got that notion Fran isn’t sure. “Of course not, Sir,” she exclaims, “I’m simply doing what’s best for myself.”

“What is best for yourself, huh?” he seethes. “You don’t know what’s best for you, but I’ll tell you. You’re going to drop out of the little writing program and tell Bryn Mawr you’re reneging your acceptance. Next fall you can apply for Harvard.”

Fran tries to explain to him that she can’t do what he’s ordering, that the signing is tomorrow night and they’re counting on her to be there. Her father simply does not care and after screaming at Fran some more leaves her dorm room in a flurry of anger, slamming the door behind him.

As if she is Atlas and the weight of the world has crushed Fran, she curls into a ball on her bed and sobs in pain. She’s absolutely heartbroken. Why can’t he just let her do what she wants? Too tired to eat, Fran stays in her room and eventually cries herself into a fitful sleep.

Fran is in the same position hours later when her friends peek through the door to check in. Without a word, the four of them surround her in a group hug. Nate’s hands find a way to her back and rub soothing circles in an attempt to calm Fran down. It helps slightly, and she eventually gets the sniffles to stop. No one speaks, but it’s comforting for Fran to not be alone. She knows that when she does want to talk about what happened they’ll be there with open ears.

At the urging of Tyson and Charlotte, Fran travels to the teachers’ quarters and knocks timidly at Mr. Bednar’s door. “Come in,” he says breezily, and she carefully steps around the pile of worn novels on the floor.

“Captain, I’m really sorry to bother you,” she says earnestly, “But I really could use some advice.”

He ushers her to sit down, and pours a cup of tea that he sets gently in Fran’s hands. She explains the entire situation, sparing no detail. Any memory that vaguely relates to her terse parental relations is also brought into the mix – if this man is going to know anything, he’s going to know everything. The conversation then moves into how much Fran loves writing, and how she feels as though she’s nothing without it. Mr. Bednar sits quietly and nods as she talks, not speaking until Fran winds herself.

“Can you tell him what you just told me?” he asks, leaning over to refill her cup and pass the sugar.

Fran scoffs, though the tears threatening to spill after sharing her heart show that she isn’t as aloof as she hopes to be. “Absolutely not. I can’t talk to him like this.”

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t see me as a person! To him I’m just a canvas he can project his dreams onto. There’s nothing I could say to make him see that he doesn’t always know what’s best for me.”

The room goes quiet. It isn’t uncomfortable, but Fran is waiting for the older man to speak again. Mr. Bednar stands and walks to the small window beside his desk. “I think you should try,” he theorizes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says confidently. “If you tell him everything you just told me, your father will see the passion you have for writing, and will let you stay enrolled in both the workshop and Bryn Mawr.”

She stays with the teacher a little while longer, discussing poetry and prose. It’s nice to talk to someone without them having preconceived notions of how she’s meant to behave and who she’s supposed to become. When Fran walks back to her dormitory she still doesn't feel as light as she hoped. There’s absolutely no way she can try and convince her father to let you stick with writing. Fran’s only hope is to disobey his direct orders. If memory serves her correctly, Fran’s father will be leaving for a three day business trip to Chicago in the morning. What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.

The rest of the night is spent with her friends doing everything in their power to keep Fran’s mind off the situation. At the suggestion of Cale, everyone dresses in their robes and sneaks to the cave, having an impromptu Society meeting. It’s nothing serious or official, just the group telling ghost stories and poking fun at each other.

After an hour or so of enjoying each others’ company, Nate abruptly stands. “I think everyone knows what time it is,” he grins.

Everyone else looks at him as if he has three heads, but then Tyson suddenly remembers something and joins the taller boy in towering over the group. He then turns around to pick up a small bundle of mangled wires and boxes and passes it to Nate. “I present to you all our now fully functional backyard radio!”

“Holy shit, you fucking did it,” Cale exclaims, profusely shocked. Charlotte just lets her jaw drop open in astonishment. Fran is speechless too, unable to believe her friends were actually able to pull their crazy invention scheme off.

No one speaks for a few beats, astounded, but Charlotte breaks the silence. “Well, are you going to turn it on you tossers?”

After a speedy setup that doesn’t look particularly safe, Nate sticks the antenna out the hole in the cave’s roof while Tyson fiddles with the dials. It takes a second, but soon enough music flits through the speaker. The voice of Elvis Presley meets everyone’s ears and Fran’s foot involuntarily taps along to the beat. Laughter and shouts of encouragement echo off the stones until it’s so loud she can no longer hear the music. No one seems to care, and Cale doesn’t refuse when Fran grabs his hand and invites him to dance. At some point Nate sweeps her into his arms to do a ridiculous step pattern, and Fran giggles loudly at the gesture. Despite everything that happened earlier in the evening, she ends the night feeling genuinely happy.

☼☼☼☼

There’s about ten minutes until Fran has to leave for Henley Hall. Charlotte has her practically tied to the desk chair and is in the process of taking the rollers out of Fran’s hair. Honestly, Fran doesn't care too much about her appearance since the event is nothing official, but her best friend insists she look the part of a glamorous novelist.

“Stop moving your bloody head,” the blonde grumbles.

“Sorry Lottie,” she apologizes sincerely. “Just a little antsy.”

It isn’t a lie. Fran has been a jittery mess all day. Not one of the lessons given stuck in her brain, and her left knee has been constantly bouncing.

Charlotte places her hand comfortingly on your shoulder. “I know darling.”

She gets back to work setting the curls, and Fran takes a second to look at herself in her small desk mirror. Charlotte has completed the seemingly impossible task of making her look elegant – painting her lips a beautiful cherry red and ironing the prettiest dress in their combined closets so there wouldn’t be any misplaced creases. A few spritzes of hairspray and she’s done, letting Fran stand up to see the finished product for the first time.

She looks herself up and down, trying to recognize the person staring back at her. It isn’t that she looks like a completely different person. In fact, Fran looks like a more sophisticated, well travelled version of a seventeen year old. She can picture herself employing Charlotte to help her get ready before any other major event she might have in the future – perhaps she’d prefer styling to nursing.

Before Fran can say anything a low whistle comes from the doorway. “You sure clean up nice, Francesca,” Nate grins, using the girl’s full name in an attempt to make her squirm.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, MacKinnon,” she says, walking breezily over to him and straightening out his bowtie. Everyone in the group is travelling to Henley in Mr. Bednar’s car. The audience doesn’t need to be there for nearly forty-five minutes after the call time, but Fran’s entourage wants to get good seats.

The other boys round the corner then, and compliment her profusely. It makes Fran blush, if only because they’re being uncharacteristically sincere. No comedic jabs follow, and she feels incredibly loved. The four of them sit patiently while Charlotte finishes her makeup, chatting amongst themselves. As soon as she’s done the door is shut quietly and the group tomps down the stairs to meet their teacher in the lobby.

“Looking sharp, kids,” Mr. Bednar exclaims jovially. “Like proper literature enthusiasts. Shall we go?”

Henley Hall isn’t a far walk, perhaps ten minutes, but riding in the back of her teacher’s car makes Fran feel important. He makes pleasant small talk with Charlotte and shares crude jokes with the boys, but asks Fran an earnest question.

“Did you tell your father what you told me Fran?”

She gulps. Of course she hadn’t called her father, not wanting to make matters worse. “I did, this morning,” she stutters. “He won’t be able to attend though, left for Chicago as I called. I think he’s going to let me stick with it.”

In the rearview mirror Mr. Bednar smiles brightly. “Glad to hear it.”

After parking the car out front of the building, the group walks into the theatre together, and Fran leaves them to slip backstage. No one else is, unsurprisingly, in the audience, but they’re more than content talking amongst themselves.

Ms. Robertson quickly goes over the speaking order and answers everyone’s questions before allowing time to practice answering questions one last time. It’s fun for Fran to chat with her fellow writers, who over the past few months have become friends, and hang out with them one last time. No one else from Welton ever joined, making her the lone outsider, but they took her in with open arms. It will be sad to leave them, though once she leaves for Bryn Mawr – if her father allows her to stay enrolled – some of the girls will be joining you.

A quick glance at the clock lets Fran know it’s go time. At the cue of the stage manager, she and the other participants file onto the stage. The one nice thing is that she isn’t out there alone and can lean on the support of her fellow creatives if need be.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to our annual Writer’s Showcase,” Ms. Robertson announces. Applause and cheers erupt from the crowd, with Fran’s little group making the most noise. She waves shyly and sits down, awaiting the prompt to begin speaking. When it’s finally her turn it takes a second for Fran to gain her voice, so petrified that something will go wrong, she mumbles the first few words of her introduction. After a second she’s fine, and continues speaking with ease and zeal.

Presenting her work to everyone important to her is the best moment of Fran’s entire life. The entire audience is on the edge of their seat, hanging off her every word. It’s empowering – for the first time in her life Fran feels special. She reads a short passage to much acclaim, ending with a deafening roar of applause. A broad smile finds its way onto her features and it seems as though it will be permanent.

The rest of the students finish their readings and the group move on to the question and answer section. This exercise is open, but each participant gets the same number of questions so as not to upstage anyone. However, it’s clear that Fran is the one most people are interested in. She ponders the questions and gives thoughtful answers. After a particularly tricky one, she hears Cale shout encouragement in her direction.

“That’s it Fran!” he yells through cupped hands, adding a whistle for extra effect. Her other friends join in, and soon so has the entire auditorium. Fran stands up and awkwardly bows before allowing another person to answer a question.

Everything is going well until she watches her father slip through the doors. He’s wearing a wicked scowl and has his brows knitted together. Whatever is about to happen won’t be pretty. Instead of causing a scene, he perches against the back wall and folds his arms over his chest. Fran gulps. Jeremy, the last boy to answer a question, finishes up. Everyone stands and bows, but she’s in such a daze that she has to be pulled up by those on either side of her. The noise is overwhelming and Fran is beginning to find it hard to breathe. As soon as it’s possible, she darts off the stage and out of view.

“Fran? What’s wrong?” Ms. Robertson asks, concern lacing her voice.

“Nothing,” she lies through her teeth. “Just a little overwhelmed by it all.”

She smiles and wraps her arms around Fran’s shoulder in a hug. “I know. Come on, let’s go celebrate.” Much to her chagrin, Fran is pulled into the crowd of people waiting to see their loved ones in the lobby. Sifting through the mass, she tries her hardest to find her friends before her father finds where she is. Unfortunately, it doesn't work.

“Francesca,” he shouts, reaching through the crowd to grab Fran by the wrist. “We’re going home right this minute.”

“But I have to return to Welton, Sir,” she protests.

Fran’s father sends her a look that could turn Medusa to stone. “Car. Now.”

It’s a hassle to keep up with his blistering pace, but Fran knows things will be worse if she keeps him waiting. The walls seem to cave in around her and tears flow without regard to who could see. Fran is legitimately terrified.

She hears her name being called as she reaches the door. Charlotte spots her and ducks under a man’s arm to catch up. Fran shoots her a warning look but she either doesn’t see it or pays it no mind. The rest of the group follows her. Too scared to look at them, Fran remains mute as they call out to her.

“That was simply wonderful, Miss Winters,” Mr. Bednar exclaims. “You’ve got a real talent for writing.” Fran blushes at his words, and hopes it conveys how much they mean to her.

Knowing this is probably going to be her only chance, Fran shoves the copy of her novel into the teacher’s chest. It’s got his initials embossed on the front cover and includes a handwritten dedication explaining how much his encouragement means to her. “Take this,” Fran mumbles, unable to look him or her friends in the eye.

Her father doesn’t miss the interaction. “Get in the car,” he orders. Fran follows the directions and presses your face against the glass, worried for her teacher. When he wants to, her father can unleash his wicked temper with unyielding cruelty.

“Stay away from my daughter, Bednar,” he seethes, grabbing the other man by the collar of his sweater. “You’re the one that put her up to all this nonsense.”

“He didn’t!” Nate protests, preparing to give Fran’s father a piece of his mind but Mr. Bednar stops him.

“That’s enough, Nathan, we don’t need to make it worse.”

With nothing else to say, Fran’s father storms to his side of the vehicle and slams the door. Turning the engine on rather aggressively he zips out the parking lot, leaving Fran to stare out the back window and watch her friends shrink and disappear. It’s so tense the air between the two of them could be cut with a dull kitchen knife. The silence is deafening and Fran wishes he’d just start screaming now to get it over with. Instead, he doesn’t speak or look at her, focussing on the road ahead of him. Though she doesn't live terribly far from Welton and Henley, the ride is long enough to spike Fran’s anxiety.

Fran’s mother is standing on the porch when the car pulls into the driveway. She pushes off the column to meet her family at the car, but stops in her tracks when her husband breezes past her. Fran hasn't even had time to open the passenger door.

“Conrad,” her mother sighs, following him into the house and trying to calm him down.

“No, Barbra, she’s gone too far this time.”

If driving away wouldn’t make it worse, Fran would be halfway to Welton by now. Her father had taught her to drive in the evenings during the summer, and it’s late enough that no police would be patrolling. Besides, if she told them the truth they might let her off the hook.

Instead, she rises out of the car with shaking knees. The front door is still open, so Fran slinks through and shuts it quietly. In the office beside the entryway her parents are arguing, though it’s mostly her father doing the talking. He often overpowers her mom and she’s too fragile to speak up for herself. That door is open too, which Fran finds strange. Normally their arguments happen in private.

“Come in,” her father says gruffly.

Fran enters cautiously, not knowing what to expect. Considering he almost assaulted her English teacher it probably won’t be very good. The chair directly across from her father is open, and she sinks into it, refusing to meet his gaze. Across the room her mother is perched delicately on the edge of the desk, chain smoking cigarettes and twirling the pearls of her necklace around her thumb.

“We’re trying very hard to understand why you insist on defying us, defying me.” His voice is eerily calm, and truthfully that upsets Fran more than if he were to scream at her. “And though I suspect that no good, idyllic teacher is behind it, we aren’t going to let you ruin your life. You’ll no longer be attending Welton. Starting first thing in the morning you’ll be enrolled at Balthasar’s Refining Academy, where you’ll finish the year and study to become a legal secretary.”

“But Father, that’s a lifetime of unhappiness,” Fran protests. “I don’t want to be a secretary.”

“Well that’s too fucking bad!” he screeches. “Because that’s what you’re going to be. It’s not a death sentence.”

Her mother says nothing, just sits and stares blankly. Fran can tell she’s afraid of him, her father, but won’t ever leave. That’s simply not the way things work.

“You don’t understand, Francesca” he continues, “You have opportunities your mother and I could never have even dreamt of. I can’t let you waste them.” With a sharp turn on his heel he faces the window, his back to Fran signaling the conversation is finished.

Adrenaline courses through her veins, and Fran seizes the only opportunity shemight ever get to tell her father how she truly feels. “I need you to know what I feel!”

Not appreciating the young girl’s challenge to his authority, Fran’s father turns on her with a wicked gleam in his eye. “What is it that you feel?” he snarls. “What is it!”

Facing him diminishes her newfound confidence. There’s no doubt he’ll pick the argument apart, berate her for having aspirations based on passion instead of security. It’s a fight Fran won’t win, so she backs down entirely.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s nothing,” she whispers.

A triumphant smirk appears on her father’s face. “That settles it then,” he exclaims, and promptly strides out of the room to get ready for bed.

Fran falls back in the armchair feeling incredibly defeated. Tears begin to fall, and soon sobs are wracking her body. In an effort to be of some comfort her mother places a hand on her shoulder, but it doesn’t help. She’s just as much to blame for Fran’s sorrow as he is.

“I was really good out there. I truly felt happy for the first time.” Fran’s voice breaks as she speaks, unable to continue for fear of breaking down completely.

Her mother stands and finishes the rest of her cigarette in a single drag. “It’s been a long night, let’s get some sleep.”

There’s no way Fran will be able to sleep. The events of the past few hours replay in her head on a loop, and she tries to find things she could have done that would have made the outcome different. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to her friends or Mr. Bednar, and that’s what stings the most.

She stares at the ceiling for a few hours, and when that doesn’t settle anything Fran gets out of bed to stare out the window. The night looks peaceful and quiet, unlike the sea of sadness swimming in her soul. In an attempt to find a solution to the swirling of her mind, she opens the window and allows the air to flow in. It’s warm, a tad bit sticky for April, but it calms her down for a split second. There’s a moment when Fran feels free, when the moonlight hits her skin just right and she’s glistening like Selene herself, before the weight of everything settles on her shoulders again. Fran is unhappy, and she will be unhappy for the rest of her life.

There’s only one thing left for her to do.

She slips into actual clothes and grabs a jacket from the small wardrobe in the corner of her room. Propping open the window with a piece of wood she found on the floor – her parents are in the middle of remodelling the house – and slipping on shoes, Fran looks around the room for a final time. If she plays her cards right, this will be the last time she’s ever in the building.

Carefully, Fran slips out the window and perches on the large branch. It’s strong enough to hold her weight if she wanted to close the window, but she doesn’t bother to hide the escape from her parents. They’ll know as soon as they wake up anyways. She quickly scurries down to ground level and takes off without a look over her shoulder. Sprinting as fast as she can, Fran makes it down the road and into the nearby village rather fast. The darkness of the night covers her tracks, and besides, no one is out at this time anyways.

There’s a payphone on the corner across from the post office, and Fran steps into the booth as soon as she possibly can. Her hands shake as she picks up the receiver. Thankfully the telephone operators won’t be able to tell who she is and alert her parents, since Fran’s calling from a public line.

“Operator,” the woman says flatly.

“Hello,” Fran rushes the introduction, skipping over a few formalities. “I need to speak to Mr. Jared Bednar of Welton Academy.”

With an unamused grunt the operator switches the phone over to his line. The dial tone begins to ring, and Fran feels anxiety settle into her bones. What if he decides not to help?

“Who is calling at such an ungodly hour?” he yawns, and she feels bad for waking him.

“Mr. Bednar, I ran away from home,” Fran cries, finally allowing tears to escape and too upset to use the nickname she often calls him by. “Can you come pick me up?”

His response is immediate. “Of course, child. Where are you?”

She explains to him where she is and, after promising not to move, hangs up. There’s a bench beside the phone booth, so Fran sits patiently and waits for the teacher to arrive. The wind no longer feels warm, and she curls the light jacket she brought tighter around her shoulders. Thankfully, no one approaches her while she sits alone. Fran is in a very precarious situation, and doesn't know how she would survive a kidnapping attempt.

Mr. Bednar’s car pulls up alongside the curb and he jumps up before the gearshift settles into park. His arms are around Fran in a nanosecond, comforting her and leading her to the warmth of the vehicle. Once out of the elements Fran feels slightly better, but is still exhausted from the roller coaster that has been the past few hours.

“Let’s get you back home,” he says, and she begins to panic. “To Hell-ton.”

Her heart rate steadies, and Fran finds enough energy to half-heartedly laugh at the use of Welton’s absurd nickname. This drive is also silent, but extremely comfortable. Eventually Mr. Bednar reaches over and turns the radio on, and she falls asleep to the voice of Sam Cooke.

When Fran arrives at Welton, she doesn’t go back to her dorm. Instead, Mr. Bednar sequesters her into the teachers’ quarters. “Your father will be here in the morning to try and find you and it will be the first place they look,” he explains. “You’re safe up here.” At Fran’s request he grabs Charlotte, and she collapses into the blonde’s arms when she steps in the room.

“Shh Fran, it’s alright,” she soothes. “You’re okay. And you’re safe.”

The two girls sleep curled together on the small couch in Mr. Bednar’s living room while he paces back and forth trying to figure out what to do. He should report the incident to the administration, but he knows that Dr. Sakic will allow Fran to go back into a dangerous situation without care for her safety. There’s nothing he would want less in the world, he decides, and doesn’t care if his credibility is ruined while trying to protect her. He doesn’t sleep a wink, keeping an eye on the door in case someone saw him bring Fran in – Welton’s staff is full of greedy opportunists who will do anything to get ahead.

He was right. The next morning Fran’s father is at Welton, demanding she return home with him. She’s nowhere to be found of course, tucked safely away in Mr. Bednar’s room, but Fran watches him stomp around the grounds from the window. It’s terrifying, knowing he could find her at any second. Never has she been more scared in her life.

Fran’s friends come to see her whenever they can spare a moment, though never all together. Cale comes the most frequently, but that’s because he’s positioned to be a staff member in a few months and the old men don’t mind him being in their quarters. He brings with him sweets and stories of other students misbehaving in class – most of the time it’s Nate. Since she’s technically a fugitive and can’t attend lessons, her friends take turns breaking down the material so Fran doesn’t get too far behind. When the anxiety of getting found out gets to be too much, Charlotte comes to braid Fran’s hair and shares fantastical tales of her European adventures. Nate stops by as often as he can, letting Fran know he’s there for her in every sense of the word, and she feels herself yearning for him once again.

After three days her father stops coming to Welton. Fran assumes he’s moved on to looking in other places, and becomes a bit freer in her movements. Late at night she sneaks out to join her friends at the regularly scheduled Society meetings. Mr. Bednar doesn’t say anything, sometimes helping Fran escape by distracting those who might see her in the hallways. This works for a week, but eventually she’s found out.

Fellow student Nico Sturm finds Fran sneaking back into Mr. Bednar’s quarters one evening. Nico is in that section of the school for chemistry tutoring, and sees her pass by in a flash. Immediately after realizing it was the missing girl teachers have encouraged students to look for, he travels to Dr. Sakic’s office, where the old man works until well into the night. The young man takes the opportunity to also reveal the names of the other students involved in the Society for Banned and Burned Books. Apparently he’s been watching the group for quite some time, waiting until the time was right to present the information. He’ll make a great politician indeed.

Three raps at the door are followed by Sakic’s booming voice. “Jared, open this door or so help me god.”

Fran looks at her teacher with an absolutely petrified gaze. “What do we do?” she asks, voice small.

“Whatever we can to minimize the damage,” he replies grimly.

Dr. Sakic stands in the doorway, broad shoulders making it so much of the space isn’t empty. He invites himself in, peering around the room for Fran. When he spots her he speaks. “Christ Jared, you can’t kidnap children.”

The English teacher calmly explains that he had not kidnapped Fran, but that she had called him for help after running away from home. Apparently that wasn’t the answer Sakic was looking for. The older man explains that Fran’s parents are on their way to the school and that the three of them should make the journey to his office.

The entire time Fran waits for her parents to arrive she’s a nervous wreck. Her teacher does his best to comfort her from a distance – it was made very clear that the two of them were to be separated. Both men let Fran cry freely, which she appreciates, because once her father enters the room she’ll be forced to show no emotion.

He’s a force to be reckoned with when he arrives, arms flying and tongue lashing. It’s all Fran’s mother and Dr. Sakic can do to stop him from tearing Mr. Bednar’s throat out. “You no good son of a bitch,” he screams. “You kidnapped my daughter!”

“Lower your voice, Conrad,” Dr. Sakic advises. “It’s better if we solve this matter privately. We don’t want a scandal.”

Her father huffs gruffly before agreeing. Fran doesn't dare look him in the eye and he pays her no mind. Though her mother does come over to quietly ask if Fran was safe, she’s quickly called to her husband’s side.

The adults deliberate for hours, never once stopping to bring Fran into the conversation. Mr. Bednar gives her a look that says he would if possible, but she knows he can’t ask for her input on the matter at hand. His career is already on the brink. Fran’s father is adamant on having Mr. Bednar fired and pulling her out of Welton.

“It’s clearly not safe for her here,” he argues. “So it’s best we put her someplace else.”

Dr. Sakic disagrees completely. “You’ll never be able to find a school to take her for a month. Plus she’s graduating. Let her remain here, and then send her wherever you’d like.”

Fran’s parents deliberate for a short time. It’s mostly her father arguing that she must leave and your mother agreeing with the headmaster. “He’s right dear, it would be detrimental to her education if we send her someplace else,” she says quietly. He mulls it over for a minute before conceding.

“Fine. But Bednar is gone.”

Fran can’t help her face from falling into a frown. It isn’t fair he gets punished for trying to help her. “Father –” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“I advise you not to speak unless called upon, Francesca,” he says cooly. “When asked, you will verbally confirm that Mr. Bednar kidnapped you and held you hostage. You’ll also sign a paper saying that he encouraged you to enter into unauthorized extra curriculars.”

The tone of his voice tells Fran those orders are final and she’d be a fool to try and defy them. Left with no other option she agrees, though Fran hopes the fingers you have crossed behind her back will help to lessen the guilt. “I don’t see that I have any other choice,” she sighs. “So I have one request.”

“You’re not in a place to be asking for anything,” her father spits.

Dr. Sakic stops him from continuing. “Mr. Winters, we try to keep this school as democratic as possible. Let her speak.”

The floor is hers and Fran’s throat goes drier than a desert. “I don’t want Mr. Bednar in the room when I say these things,” she stammers, heart pounding in her ears. She’d rather not say them at all, but her hand is being forced.

The request is granted, and Fran’s beloved English teacher nods his head once before slipping out of the room. Tears stain her cheeks and blouse as she repeats the words she’s prompted to. Her voice is barely above a whisper and riddled with hiccups, but they don’t let Fran stop. Eventually the excruciating process is done, and it feels like her soul has been crushed. In a way it has – Mr. Bednar gave Fran the tools to feel like her life had purpose and now he’s gone.

Without acknowledging her parents, Fran turns on her heel to return to the dormitory wing. They’ll stay for a while longer, discussing with the headmaster on how they want to proceed legally. At the last second she decides to turn around, speaking to them for what will hopefully be the last time.

“I never want to see either of you ever again.”

Charlotte is waiting for her with open arms. She lets Fran cry herself to sleep, and even then she doesn’t dare move a muscle. The other girl needs her to provide love and stability, even in an unconscious state, and she understands. Sleep doesn’t come easy, or for long, but Charlotte’s there with Fran every step of the way.

☼☼☼☼

Fran is empty. Everything feels like it’s underwater, and she spends most of the morning distant from almost everything. Her friends are there, cracking small jokes and offering comforting touches. It’s much appreciated and Fran hopes they know this, because she’s too exhausted to tell them herself. The events of last night, and the weeks and months before, play on loop in her head. She feels personally responsible for the destruction of Mr. Bednar’s career, and though she knows he doesn’t blame you, Fran can’t help but blame herself.

No one pushes her much, which Fran appreciates. The other teachers know what happened last night, and don’t call on her for answers. Other students whisper but she does her best to ignore them, and when they get a little too rowdy Nate quiets them down with a quick-witted insult. Fran never liked most of them anyways. Nico is nowhere to be found, but she’d be the last person to get your hands on him. Nate, Tyson, and Cale have already said fighting him is worth the risk of getting expelled.

Luckily none of Fran’s friends get punished for The Society. The school administration places all the blame on Mr. Bednar, though that isn’t much of a conciliation. Everyone feels terrible, but the others are keeping their spirits up as much as possible for Fran.

“Look at this origami swan,” Tyson says, dropping it into Fran’s hands. “I figured out how to do it in trigonometry.”

It’s obvious he’s trying to distract her from the fact the pair of them are entering the English classroom. For the first time all year Mr. Bednar won’t be waiting, encouraging everyone to go after their dreams while talking about literature. Fran is grateful for the effort Tyson’s putting in, especially because today has been difficult for him too.

When she slides into her seat behind him, she notices that Dr. Sakic is writing on the blackboard. Once everyone is in their seats and the bell rings he addresses everyone. “I’ll be teaching you for the rest of the year, and we’ll hire a replacement in the summer,” he says. “Though, I suspect the only person in here who will care is Mr. Makar. Perhaps the position will be yours, young man.”

“Possibly Sir,” Cale says shyly, blush creeping onto his cheeks.

The lesson the headmaster turned substitute teacher gives is boring. Apparently very little Mr. Bednar taught was in the curriculum, so he plays catch up as quickly as possible. Fran barely pays attention, wondering what her old teacher is doing at the very moment. Could he already be out of the state, driven out by shame? A knock at the door pulls her from the daydream.

“I left some personal belongings in my office. Should I collect them after class?”

The voice of Mr. Bednar rings out through the room, and Fran whips around in her seat. There he is, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink, but still here and present. He lets the class have a small smile, informing them all he would be okay without having to say anything.

Dr. Sakic doesn’t look thrilled. “It’s fine Bednar, grab them now,” he sighs, corralling the class’s attention back to him.

Too afraid to meet his gaze, Fran stares at her textbook while he passes by. There’s some rustling in the small room behind the main classroom, and then her former teacher emerges. Knowing it’s the last time she’ll ever see the man, and that the guilt will eat her alive if she doesn’t, Fran speaks.

“Mr. Bednar, they made me sign those papers. Made all of us sign them,” she explains, words so rushed they jumble together.

He smiles kindly. “I know.”

“Miss Winters, that’s enough,” Dr. Sakic shouts before narrowing his eyes at the other man. “Your time has expired Mr. Bednar. It’s time for you to leave.”

Mr. Bednar heads for the door. No one else looks at him, too afraid of getting reprimanded by their new teacher. The lesson continues around her but Fran isn't paying attention. Suddenly there’s more rustling, and Tyson is standing on top of his desk.

“Oh Captain, my Captain,” he yells, completely disrupting the studious atmosphere.

The phrase stops Mr. Bednar in his tracks, and he turns around.

“Mr. Jost, get down this instant,” Sakic screeches.

Nate follows his friend’s lead, popping up and repeating the words. “Oh Captain, my Captain,” he says, adding a small salute for flair.

The courage of her friends nestles inside Fran’s stomach and pushes her to act. She rises in solidarity with them, and Charlotte and Cale follow suit. Dr. Sakic yells at the group repeatedly, threatening disciplinary measures that won’t be fun, but Fran could care less. All that matters to her in the moment is letting Mr. Bednar know that she’ll never stop caring about him or forget everything he did for her.

“Thank you kids,” he whispers, a single tear rolling down his left cheek.

Only the five of them stand in sendoff, but it feels like the entire world is on their side. Fran realizes that this is her world – her friends, her idol, and the wealth of memories and possibilities made possible because of them. That will always be enough.

[trutrustories]

Okay, this will be probably long and with many errors (my english isn´t very good) But I saw several posts here on Lokius tag, talking about this ship as result of gay fetish, and about non existing chemistry and  how this ship doesn´t make sense etc… And from what I understood there is tagged Lokius because of genuine interest to understand others point of view, so here is mine: I wil try to explain where my frustration comes from, and how I feel about Lokius, Sylkie, AND representation + some other things which I saw here somewhere. But first of all: I like Sylvie, I don´t hate sylkie shipers, and after so many years reading fan fictions, I don´t mind selfcest – I read weirder things. I have some issues with this ship (the mainlythe fact that it isn´t Lokius), but  this is not one of them. Also, I am not about to tell anyone, they shouldn´t ship sylkie.Ship whatever. And I LOVED the show as a whole. 

I just want to defend my standpoint, that Lokius does make sense, people shipping it does make sense and whether it will happen or not, (I don´t have my hopes very high, and I learned to be very skeptical in this regard ) it is more than just about crack ship, or fetish. I´m honestly blown away that people are still surprised that this ship became a thing :D First of all, let´s look at some romantic story telling and tropes: I mean the way they introduced them in the first two episodes set the tone for all series and how the heck this isn´t romantic? Somehow there are all these romantic tropes existing in a show. They´re just there. Just chilling between Loki and Mobius and large portion of audience can´t even see them. (and some of those tropes were used for Sylki as well, so you could actually see them side by side)

For example: 1) traveling to the apocalypsis 2) breaking law/rules for the other 3) literally changing for the better thanks to the other 4) arguing like old married couple 5) saying secrets, personal things to the other 6) sharing glances, touches, visibly being happy around each other - in case of Loki happier then we´ve ever seen him before 7) being completely themselfs around each other 8) One knowing everything (even the worst) about other and still accepting him completely 9) teasing, being comfortable and domestic around each other 10) one being literally enthusiastic FAN of the other 11) Mobius defending Loki whenever he has a chance 12) Freaking amnesia trope that they pulled of in the end??? (It could be different Mobius, but point is he suddenly doesn´t know him - and Loki knows more, in contrast with the beggining) 13) the jealousy in ep4 14) Misunderstanding - when Mobius thought Loki betrayed him and Loki (thanks to Ravonna) thought Mobius betrayed him... 15) witnessing death of the other and being absolutely broken afterwards 16) The goodbye hug with romantic music in the backround 17) Saving life of the one (even when it means problems for the other ) - like Mobius saved Loki´s ass at least three times when he was trying to stop others from pruning him. 18) sharing deep conversations about meanings of life, freedom and how it would be fun to make some chaos and ride that fucking jet ski!!! 19) Inspiring the other 20) looking for each other (Mobius didn´t believe for a second, that Loki would die in the Void and the way how in the last minutes of the series Loki run through all places they were together when he was looking for Mobius... and I could go on. Point is, even if they are not planning to make Lokius canon, all these things are used on a daily basis to describe romance in media and they are used here. On top of that it´s just very poetic and cute, that this drama queen and powerful god of Asgard who looked down on people would find his match in someone, who is so quiet, ordinary on the first sight, and basically is just human from 90s, who loves jet skis. Mobius can´t even fight. But is highly inteligent and he also happen to be as good manipulator, such as Loki himself. - That´s why they work together so well. Mobius sees right through him and once Loki understands that, he drops his evil persona. Almost nobody expected to ship it for real. But story itself and chemistry between them just made it probably the most exciting duo in the whole MCU. And I mean it genuinely. Third episode, even though it was beautiful and Sophie was great in it (and is literally dipped in bisexual colors), is the least favorite for a reason. And that reason being, there is no interaction between Loki and Mobius whatsoever. Lot´s of people though that series slowed down a bit. Even when in fact there was more action, then when we watched Loki and Mobius working at the TVA.

(and let´s just talk about evil!Mobius narative for a bit and how some people say he is manipulative and toxic for Loki: show itself explore heavy themes and one of them is in Loki´s line: no one bad is ever truly bad and no one good is ever truly good. And as a theme in a fictional world, it is working as it should, for the  story. When Loki and Mobius meet, one of them just killed lots of innocent people and destroyed almost whole city. The other one is a part of fascist organization – and in the beginning of the series they both believe what they´re doing is right. They´re both bad, they´re both good, they´re both broken. And they are changing with the help of the other.) From all reactions I watched - and there was many of them, lots of people actually didn´t see dynamic between Loki and Sylvie as romantic in the third episode. So it´s not like Sylvie and Loki had unequivocally love story right from the start.

The only difference is that lots of people won´t see romantic tropes, when it comes to two men in a mainstream show – show that isn´t primarily about relationships and problems that queer people has to face. Because in super hero story and science fiction we have to warn audience, that they´re about to watch two man in love, right? At this point It´s just frustrating really. There were many M/M dynamics that used similar story line, as for example Lucifer, or X-files, or Bone collectors. -  But unlike those M/M pairings, no one was making fun of people for shipping main characters in these shows. But when it comes to two men suddenly you´ll see from all corners of the internet: “why can´t it be just platonic?” “There is not enough platonic relationships” “why can´t two man just be friends?” (They can and they almost ALWAYS are) and “if you think there something romantic between them, you´re delusional” “fetishist“ “And for god´s sake just let them be friends, Loki needs a friend more then....” oh wait, but Sylvie is allowed to kiss him. Sylvie doesn´t have to be just friend. (And I must say, that I love Sylvie, I liked most of the interactions between her and Loki and I think she is a great character ((I hope we learn more about her in the future)) it just doesn´t work for me as well as Loki´s dynamic with Mobius. Maybe partly because of chemistry between actors, partly because combination of characters and they´re personality and also because I had two whole episodes to fall in love with the pair before Sylvie was even introduced.)

First of all: people can be friends and then evolve into lovers. Not only it is common romantic trope, but it is also the most realistic one. And those relationships are usually strongest. second: If people want to see Loki in a platonic friendship so desperately, why can´t it be a woman for a change? They were acting like chaotic siblings for most of the episode three anyway. The age gap aspect is also very funny. Owen is only about 12 years older (That is not that much. But I imagine, some people would get uncomfortable. But If it was man and woman, most of them wouldn´t even blinked. But two men, that has to be somehow automatically son and father figure dynamic) And If you want to dive into age of an actual characters, then good luck with that in a series about gods, variants and time travel. Almost nobody cares about age gap between Lucifer and detective Decker, or Bella and Edward. On top of that, it was heavily implied, that Loki slept with older, silver haired guy in Ragnarok, so it´s not like he would have problem with that.

Different standards are projected in a way how we see romantic dynamics between fictional characters depends on what we are used to, how are we perceiving world around us, what we are expecting to see and ALSO, what we would like to see, that much is true.  When people are used to make no differences between heterosexual and homosexual pairing, then everything what happens to the characters is measured with the same meter. (Even though I experienced queerbaiting many times (( Once upon a time, Sherlock, Supernatural, Good Omens – the last one hopefully is not the case, but I guess we´ll see)) I also saw lots of lgbt shows like Queer as folks and Sense8.) And when we are not used to see it the same way, well… then it looks basically like that one comment under Castiel´s “I love you” scene on youtube, that said  “what a beautiful friendship”.

If we forget about all that chaotic mess behind the scenes (all those articles and contrary messages)  What is happening in a show between Loki and Mobius can be objectively considered romantic and what is happening between Loki and Sylvie in a series can be objectively considered platonic (until the kiss) and vice versa.  And then to see comments about how absurd it is to even think they have chemistry, and about gay fetish - it´s hard to swallow. I read posts about absurdity of a ship and how there is absolutely nothing that would suggests romance.  Well there is, actually. But whether creators are going to work with it or not, that´s something we can only speculate. They already made Loki officially bisexual. So why should it be so absurd to assume, that there is an actual possibility of romantic subplot between Loki and Mobius? Oh right… it´s Disney and Marvel we are talking about.

So on a subject of bisexuality: Bi people can date whoever they want.  But It is a little frustrating, when there is so many heterosexual pairings in the mcu and disney but when there is a promise of lgbt character (speaking of endgame) we get one line about date from a man we´ll never see again. And when there is a promise of lgbt representation you can´t even blink during movie, or you´ll miss it (Star wars, Beauty and the beast). And then Loki said “A bit of both, I suspect the same as you”. And I won´t lie, I was happy. And I think creators made biggest step yet with this one line (which is honestly terrible, that “a bit of both” coming from Loki of all people, is the biggest step forward.) But they played it VERY safe. Obviously, both Loki, and Sylvie are bisexuals, and in three episodes, we had Loki flirting with female flight attendant, Sylvie talking about her relationship with POSTMAN and then they fall for each other. So the only thing that suggests they are really as bi as Lamentis 1 is that little sentence, that can be edited out, or easily overheard. It´s the bare minimum. And I think that frustration with how freaking slowly we´re moving into some progress is understandable. From all those great M/M dynamics I talked about, those, that could make great love story, nothing happened, because too many people “don´t mind gays but don´t need to look at them” or are scared for their children. In 2021.

It is not a fetish to wish for a gay love story in superhero movies/series. (But anyway, I don´t think there is anything bad about it. Some men like to watch lesbian porn, some woman like to read gay porn. AO3 wouldn´t be were it is today, without people reading and writing slash :D – but that has little to do with what we actually see on tv)

I´m not delusional. As much, as I love these two characters together, I know how little chance it has.  I´m not delusional. I´m just in the future, old and tired, waiting hundreds of years for at least one of my OTP to finaly become a fucking canon.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Hi!!!!!!!!!! I just saw your playlist for the indruck rockstar au so naturally I had to go and reread the whole entire thing in one go this morning and I just wanted to say how much I Love it and the way you write that whole scenario, especially with the way you incorporated the music lyrics??? (Especially since you wrote a bunch of those????) chefs kiss. I was wondering if you had ever written or planned out any of the sternclay that happened before this story took place because the way you described what we got of how they got together sounded so amazing and I would Die to hear their point of view. Hope you have a wonderful weekend!!!!!!!!!

Thank you so much! I’m really proud of that fic, and it seems to have been one a lot of folks really enjoyed. And well, when you asked this, it got me thinking. So here’s a brief history of how Stern and Barclay got together in this universe. Heads up: it is NSFW

That didn’t go as planned. 

Joseph only meant to alert The Cryptids to the fact their manager was clearly skimming off the top and downplaying offers for further connections in the business before turning every ounce of charm he could muster on Barclay. He came to fuck bigfoot, not change careers. 

Now he’s packing up the second of his two suitcases, conversation with his parents still ringing in his ears. They’re not taking the fact that he’s dropping out of college to manage an up and coming, horror rock, very gay band particularly well and have tried twice to talk him out of it. Which is why he’s glad he went through all the bureaucratic steps before calling them. 

He’s never been more terrified or excited in his life. He’s sure he can do this, he’s already booked them four more gigs in a logical tour path, found a better system for making their merch, and is tracking down a promising P.R lead. It’s the close quarters that scare him the most; he’s certain he could charm Barclay for an evening, could get the others to like him enough to hang around back stage once or twice. But for months on end? What if they think he’s prissy, or too perfectionistic, or too normal?

What if Barclay hates him?

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

“I must admit, I’d have thought you would have made a move on Joseph by now.” Indrid says before pulling a sweater on over his head. It gets caught on his glasses, and he flails until Barclay helps it the rest of the way down. They’re somewhere south of Madison, the van cutting a lonely path down the dark road; it’s so late, and they’re on one of those vast, distinctly midwestern stretches where there’s nothing but night sky and fields. Jake drives, tapping the wheel in time with the radio while Joseph sleeps in the passenger seat and Vincent sprawls on the far back one.

“Kinda weird to hit on your manager, right?” Barclay peers warily around the passenger seat to be double sure the manager in question isn’t listening. He isn’t, lips parted slightly and dark hair falling in his face as his sleeping body is tilted this way and that by the motion of the car. 

“Not when the manager looks like that and has already broadcasted his eagerness to fuck you.”

Barclay can’t really argue that first point; Joseph walked into that sorry excuse for a dressing room looking like centerfold come to life. There’s a certain kind of fan of theirs who spends their daily life buttoned up and following the rules, and Joseph struck him as exactly that kind of self-repressing, well groomed gym bunny. They’re always the most fun fans to fuck, in his experience. Couple that with the fact Joseph was (is) hot and willing, Barclay would have happily called dibs on the van for an hour to fuck him senseless that first night. But now…

“I dunno, he hasn’t really flirted with me since we met. And even then he didn’t flirt much.”

“The lecture on Haye’s deficits did start about two seconds after he entered the room.”

“Yeah” Barclay sighs fondly at the memory, “maybe he’s just not interested now that he’s seen me offstage.”

“Or maybe you’re both acting from the same vein of professionalism. Which is not terribly punk rock.”

“I’m being myself” Barclay grumbles “that’s-”

“The most punk rock thing you can be.” Indrid finishes, nodding sagely. Then he smirks, “but that doesn’t change the fact Joseph wants to get into those leather pants of yours. Why do you think he keeps recommending the stage outfits that involve them?”

“Hey, I like that look too. It’s my idea as much as it’s his.”

“Mmmmhmm.” Indrid yawns, rests his head on Barclay’s shoulder.  Then he sings in his ear “Baby you got the clothes, baby he’s got the romance, you’ve got the moves so while you’ve got the chance, you wanna get in his pants, you wanna get in his pants, you wanna-”

Barclay elbows him sideways onto the seat, making them both giggle like they’re ten and wrestling on the trampoline in his backyard. 

“Enough with the prophecies, Mothman.”

“That was hardly a prophecy.” Indrid sticks his legs into Barclays laugh, “but very well. I will leave you to pine for as long as you please.”

Barclay spares another glance towards the front of the car.

“I’m not pining. I just want him to like me.”

A snore in reply, Indrid out with his arms sprawled in different directions. Barclay chuckles softly, roots around for one of their two pillows, and settles his head against the window. He doesn’t shut his eyes right away; instead he watches the lights of distant houses and stars race past, melding into the reflection of Joseph’s sleeping face.

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

“I bought us ten more minutes, I cannot believe they didn’t warn us this was a double appearance. I’ll-” Joseph finishes shutting the van door and promptly grips it so hard it leaves an indent in his palm. 

The band is in various states of rapid undress, trying to get back into their first set of outfits, and smack in the center of the tableau is Barclay, naked from the waist down.

“-I’ll be more thorough going, um, going forward. See you all backstage.” 

He can’t scramble out of the vehicle fast enough, finds one of the two functioning bathrooms in the place and locks himself in without a second thought. Leans against the graffiti coated door and shoves his hand down pants, a little embarrassed at how turned on he is just from one peek at Barclay’s dick. That doesn’t stop him from picturing it as he shoves two fingers into himself and jacks off like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get. The smell of two kinds of smoke, the half dead bulb, the din of the crowd gathering in the building all make him harder; he’s so desperately horny for his bassist he’ll make himself cum in a shitty dive bathroom. The thought has him moaning, and he covers his mouth with his free hand as he cums. 

With a much clearer head, he washes his hands and leaves to round up his band. It’s better this way, better for him to get off alone than put Barclay in a weird position by his manager coming onto him. That’d be weird for everyone; this way is much easier.

Ten minutes later, standing in the shadowy steps and watching The Cryptids perform, Barclay growling and sweat-soaked, giving Indrid a messy, open-mouthed kiss when the singer initiates it, he knows it won’t be easy at all.

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

They’ve done it; Joseph helped the others successfully sign with Amnesty Records, securing them a re-release of their first album at higher quality and with wider distribution, a massive U.S tour, and more money up front than any of them have ever seen. Amnesty sees promise in them, and Barclay knows they can deliver. They celebrated for two nights solid, and now reality sets in; Indrid is locked in a hotel room, writing like he’s possessed by the ghost of several rockstars at once, Vincent and Jake are trying to find places to live now that they’re based in Atlanta, and Barclay…

Barclay is standing in a half-furnished apartment that doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to Joseph, currently hopping on and off the phone while Barclay waits for dinner to arrive. In a perfect world he would have just cooked, but given how Joseph’s been the last few weeks, he’s worried that gesture of intimacy might freak him out. The manager was in meetings all day and is still in his suit, a forty dollar one they bought in a strip mall at the edge of town. On him it looks like it cost a thousand dollars just for the slacks. The slacks Barclay is failing very hard at not staring at. Joseph isn’t even twenty-one, but he’s been working deals like a pro, and it is the hottest fucking thing Barclay has ever seen. 

He tries distracting himself from his unhelpful gay thoughts via distressing images. All he comes up with is having to steal Indrid’s phone from him after the singer called his family for the first time in almost three years. Whether that was to deliver a final fuck you or toss a hail Mary of reconciliation their way, Barclay isn’t sure. All he knows is he watched Indrid’s face take a turn, old hurts smothering the spark in his eyes, and he took the phone away while someone yelled on the other end of it. 

“How are your parents taking it?” Joseph looks up from the laptop on the kitchen table where he’s entering dates into a calendar. 

Barclay smiles, “Good. Pretty sure they’ve told everyone in the family the good news. Alice can get a chain email out like nobody’s business. They say they love me and are proud of me and that I have to promise to still come home for Christmas every now and then.”

Joseph smiles back, open for a moment before a guard slips back up. Barclay tucks his hands in his pockets, psyching himself up. He has to do this. He has to know.

“Have I, like, made you angry or something? You’ve just been standoffish lately.” 

“Working out everything for the contract has been so stressful I’m not sure anyone but the execs have seen much of me.” The answer is well-rehearsed. 

“Oh.” Barclay nods, hands still in his pockets and shoulders slouched. 

“And, um, and they haven’t gone away. My feelings for you.” This answer is far quieter, the other man looking up from the screen with fearful eyes. 

“That’s a...bad thing? But I, uh, I, like you too. I like so fucking much.”

A little puff of laughter, “I can tell. Believe me, I can. It’s just that being your manager is different than being a random fan looking for a hook-up; I might  want something you’re not ready to give, or vice versa, and if we rush into things it could fuck up everything you guys worked for. Everything we worked for.”

Barclay cautiously steps forward, “What if we took things slow? Like, really slow.”

Hope sneaks into the corners of Joseph’s eyes, “What would that look like?”

“Like we go step by step, with first dates and like, hand holding and shit. We can take as long as we want; I mean, unless you’re planning on ditching the next big thing in the music world, think we’re gonna have plenty of time to spend together.”

“I like the sound of that.” 

Barclay circles the table as Joseph stands. He cups his cheek, running his thumb up his cheekbone.

“Hey.”

“Hi” Joseph’s eyes have taken on a distinctly Bambi-ish shape. 

“You wanna go get dinner tomorrow?”

The other man loops his arms around his shoulders, “Absolutely.”

Their first kiss comes less than twenty four hours; they may be taking it slow, but there’s only so much two men who’ve been pining in the confines of a van for months can take. It’s soft and popcorn scented and Joseph holds his hand the entire time. 

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

Joseph waits in the dressing room, ears ringing from the sound system and the screaming crowd. It’s the first time The Cryptids have played any sort of true arena, and they sold out the show a week in advance. 

Barclay clomps into the room in his combat boots, grinning as soon as he sees him. He’s dripping with sweat, his eyeliner is a little smudged, and even though he isn’t the lead vocalist, he has enough backing vocals that his voice is a touch raw when he speaks. 

“Fuck that was fun.”

“You all did so well. I, this is going to sound corny, but I’m so proud of you.”

“Should be proud of yourself too, babe. Without you, we’d probably still be playing no-name bars in Des Moines or Fresno.”

“Managing is easy when the talent’s this good.” He runs his hands up Barclays’ fishnet-clad chest. 

“Take the compliment, blue eyes.”

High on pride and the knowledge that at least a third of the crowd would commit a felony to take his place, Joseph pinches Barclay’s left nipple, “No.”

Barclay growls, grabbing his lapels and yanking him into a salty, toothy kiss. He moans in reply, drops his hands down to undo Barclay’s fly so he can grind against him, feel him getting hard through his dress pants. 

“You really wanna do that here, babe? Don’t wanna make our first time all soft sheets and candlelight?” Barclay rubs the top button of Joseph’s shirt between his thumb and finger. 

“Yes, I want you and I want you now” 

Barclay lunges, shoving him back until his ass hits the dressing room table.

“Fine” he grunts, getting his cock out while Joseph kicks one leg free of his pants, “can’t take a compliment, gonna take something else.”

“OHmylord, fuck, fucking finally.” He thunks his head back against the mirror as Barclay sets a ferocious tempo. 

“Shit, you feel even better than I thought you would, and I’ve been, fuck, thinking about it for a long fucking time. Ever since you walked into that shitty dressing room in those tight shorts and shirt with my name on it.”

“Nnhng” He spreads his legs wider at the memory.

“Oh you fucking like that, don’t you babe? That why you wanted to do this here? So I could treat you like the horny fucking fanboy you really are?”

“Yes, ohmylord, yes, yes.” He can’t feel anything but the points where they connect, can’t hear anything beyond Barclay’s growls in his ear and the slap of skin on skin.

“Fuck” Barclay pulls his hair with one hand, shoves his knee further up with the other, “shoulda known, even with that fancy suit all you wanna be is my fucking toy.” It’s a snarl, the hottest sound he’s ever heard and he drags Barclay into another kiss, amazed that he feels close to cumming already. 

Knockknock.

Barclay turns his head towards the door, Joseph muffling his panting breath in his shoulder. 

“Uh, who is it?”

“Mothman. The winners of that drawing are back here to meet us.”

“Shit” Joseph hisses, starting to sit up only for strong hands to trap him in place. 

“Cool. Uh, gimme like” Barclay looks down to where his cock is buried into Joseph, “three minutes?”

The smile in Indrid’s voice is unmistakable, “Of course. I still need to find Vincent. See you soon.”

“Three minutes seems optimisticAH, ohgod” He holds on for dear life as Barclay fucks him with sharp, deep thrusts. A calloused hand finds his dick and Joseph bites down on a broad shoulder to keep from alerting everyone in the vicinity to his impending orgasm. 

“That’s it babe, cum for me, cum on my cock in a backroom like the horny, needy thing you are.” Barclay stills his hips, hand working with slick, messy movements until Joseph cums. He doesn’t wait for him to finish all the way before slamming into him for ten of the best seconds of Stern’s life and cumming with a deep moan. 

“Fucking-A that was good.”

“Good is an understatement.”

“I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too.”

A kiss on the head as Barclay helps him onto the ground, a flurry of putting their clothes into a rough approximation of order. Then Barclay kisses him again as Joseph strokes his hair. 

“Offer of soft sheets and candlelight still stands.” 

Joseph holds him tighter, smiling against his neck, “I guess we know what we’re doing tomorrow night.”

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

It’s the last day of recording the tracks for “Blood on the Mirror” and the mood is bittersweet. After this, there’s one more tour and then The Cryptids go their separate ways. It was time, everyone but Indrid and Jake ready to move on to other projects, and Joseph is already on board to manage Indrid’s solo career (“I’d trust it to no one else, Joseph. I mean it”). All the same, when the final track is deemed done, everyone applauds and embraces like they’re going off to war. 

He heads down to his office to finish reading over venue contracts while the band packs up, but he only gets through one before Barclay appears. 

“Hey, blue eyes.”

“Hi, Bigfoot.” Joseph stands and comes to the door to kiss him, “are you already set to go home.”

“More or less” Barclay rubs his arm, his most consistent anxiety tell, “uh, there’s just one thing I gotta ask before we leave.”

Hushed voices down the hall, but no one there when Joseph looks behind him to check. When he turns back, his hands fly up to cover his mouth. Barclay is down on one knee.

“I, uh, I know this might not be the most, uh, traditional spot to do this but it feels right. I’ve just been thinking about how a huge chapter of my life is coming to a close and there’s this whole new, exciting, terrifying blank page where I have to write the next one. And I, I realized that I want you to be in that chapter with me, and the next one, and the one after that. So, uh, what I want to know is: Joseph Stern, will you marry me?”

He nods, not trusting his voice to come out with intelligible words. 

“Oh thank god.” Barclay springs up, cupping his face and spinning him in a kiss. Joseph laughs as whooping cheers echo towards them. Indrid, Jake, and Vincent, are peering around the nearest corner, beaming.

“Indrid is for sure going to say I told you so the second he gets me alone” Barclay chuckles, “I was so afraid you’d say no because things will be kind of up in the air for the next few years.”

Joseph turns his face back towards him, “You’re right, they will. But I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend them with.”

[thejudgingtrash]

You know those Estelle child of Poseidon/Neptune aus and such? I feel like those are just a more accepted version of the trend of oc Poseidon/Neptune kids. bc since now folks like to discount those ocs as cringe 2012 shit but now Estelle is a canon vehicle for Percy sibling dynamic funsies, people wanna project it on her instead bc ocs have been deemed cringe. Personally, I love both cringey ocs and demigod Estelle, but I can’t help but think that’s what’s happened, you know? Just random thought

No, I absolutely think it makes sense what you’re saying. I’m guilty of that “another sibling of Poseidon/Neptune” or “Estelle as a child of Poseidon” wave because it’s fun and a mostly harmless headcanon. Also, the fanfics we used to read back in those days? Rough, my friend, completely rough.

Personally, I do think that the way Estelle was brought up set her up to fail.

It’s just not believable to me that Percy would have a sibling all of a sudden. Not only that, but a sibling with an incredibly large age difference. Percy could technically be her father age wise. That much of an age difference. The minute Percy moves out they’d probably see each other realistically on birthdays and holidays, so not that often. That hinders a deep sibling bond (and Sally having a free babysitter I guess). What’s a college kid going to do with a kid that isn’t his? Hit up the clubs and leave her there? Nah.

Estelle is not a character, she’s a plot device which could be easily discarded. She’s nothing more than background information which doesn’t even bring that much to the plot. I have seen posts from bipercabeth, blackjacktheboss and others touch on that topic but I don’t really think people dove that much into Estelle and mostly made their points about Sally, which is fine and makes sense as the only true connection we have to Estelle as a “character” is through her mother.

Estelle’s essentially Riordan‘s OOC OCand completely unnecessary? There is no need for her. If you’d scratch her out of the PJO universe would that leave any sort of dent? No. Even that wacko and “Camp Jupiter’s version of Jeffree Star” Octavian has a larger significance (regardless whether you hate him or not) than Estelle. And yes, I do believe that many people use her as a projection punching bag. We don’t know anything about her apart from the fact that she Naruto ran out of Sally’s vajoochie, so there’s really not much essence to her, but there’s so much people could just pile onto her. I’m interested to see if there’s going to be a little bit more info about her in the Tower of Nero (or a standalone novel), but I doubt it.

I think the factor that Riordan as a white Christian male wanted to portray the fantasy of the perfect happy family that rose from the ashes comes into play. We’ve seen Sally and Percy growing up in disfunctioning partially abusive households which bonded them together as Riordan decided “as a making up gift” to give Sally a harmless husband for a change who she’s marrying after only two goddamn years (also here’s my old Paul rant for free if you’re interested!). The problem is - it’s so incredibly rushed and sidelined it really doesn’t make that much sense to me? Sally got barely any rest with Percy. He had a strong demigod scent which made monsters chase him since he had been a toddler and things only got worse once he became a pre-teen to a full blown teenager. Sally has been through hell and above and then her son goes missing and she’s pretty much getting pregnant around that time or a little bit after? I know people call Sally strong and all of that blablablabla. But... there’s no need to rush with further family planning in the context of the plot? Isn’t she like in her mid-thirties? So yeah, she could still pop out a kid or two, but damn sis. Relax for a bit, will ya? Cooch won’t run away.

Pregnancy, giving birth, babies and having/raising children is not as fun and sweet and cute as romanticized Hollywood movies are trying to sell you (and that’s coming from someone who actually likes kids). Screaming, all kinds of gross fluids, being tired and sore from giving birth, close childcare for the first two years and I don’t know what Paul’s family is looking like - Sally has no one apart from her adult son who is trying to manage his own life and wants to grow into adulthood. It could be overwhelming. While I don’t think money would be the issue it’s just that the bond between Percy and Estelle that would probably not be as close-knit as some people headcanon it. Especially if the former leaves for college.

The only way I could see Estelle work as a character would be if the Heroes of Olympus or the Trials of Apollo saga would be rewritten. It would make more sense if Estelle is a child of Poseidon/Neptune with no association to Percy. That would mean that one of the two series (or both) would have to be pushed further into the future as while Poseidon said/joked about unleashing his inner whore after The Last Olympian, it would still take a while (at least a decade) for Estelle to grow and move into either camp. That would automatically mean that Percy is an adult in his late twenties at the bare minimum (but we know Riordan, he refuses to age his characters and he refuses to dive into YA, which is his right, but trying a continuation with the same rules doesn’t always work out in your favor, Slicky Rick). Still means that there’s not much of a bond for Estelle and him. But it would make her appearance... more realistically?

Additionally, if people are against the thought of demigod!Estelle, they should be against Estelle entirely as a sibling because why are people thinking that Percy near her toddler ass wouldn't put her into danger? Unless there’s next to no sibling relationship of course. But that would be probably also not the way most people would love to paint the narration. Can’t please everyone. But please people. Try to enjoy your headcanons. They can be fun and nonsensical or on the more realistic side.

PS: Estelle’s also a kinda funky fugly name. I thought she was named after her maternal grandmother who was named Laura? Then again, could also be her paternal grandmother’s name but I don’t know?

[qfantasydragon]

So its the end of the semester and I have been writing Too Many Essays of academic bs and am probably over-analyzing this but its been bouncing around in my head all day so now y’all get to look at it so I can think of other things

Last night I was watching critical role’s narrative telephone and got to Widogast’s Web of Words and after about five minutes of laughing as the other cast members retold the story I had a lightbulb moment spawned, as I said, by too many goddamn essays

“Hey wait a minute. This seems suspiciously Caleb-as-a-volstrucker related.” And the more that thought bounced around my head, the more connections I found, so hear me out:

First off right at the beginning the story, he says “most think of it as a fairy tale to frighten children, but the wise know better.” We know from previous in-game discussion that the voltstrucker are mostly regarded as a spooky story or urban legend within the empire. Exactly the kind of thing you would use to entertain kids. But the smart and the higher up would know that the voltstrucker exist.

So my theory: the three children are Caleb, Astrid, and whats-his-face, Eadwulf, and boy does it mushroom out from there.

The parents told the children to “say their prayers, serve their king, and always walk in the light of the sun” (Liam). We don’t know a ton about Caleb’s parents, but we do know that they were very patriotic. There’s also a lot of talk about the Dawnfather, Pelor, in the first bit, who is neutral good according to the critical role wiki (thanks guys) and one of whose commandments is “deliver the light of the Dawnfather...with kindness, compassion, and mercy” (the wiki). He is also the god of agriculture and a popular focus of worship of the common folk (the wiki). So this is Caleb and classmates before Ikithon, living small town, commoner lives, still full of empathy/kindness/etc.

Then comes the leaving their prayers and going into the dark woods bit, which to me sounds like leaving home, and the way of doing things there, to go to Rexxentrum. Stepping away from the Dawnfather, away from the empathy/kindness thing and the common folk way of life. But at the moment it is still possible for them to return home, unharmed, unchanged. The line describing the woods, “so vast and full of mystery...the desire for knowledge beckoned them. They no longer walked in the light of the sun” sounds like Caleb wanting to learn more about magic and diving headfirst into Soltryce Academy, starting to lose sight of what morality his parents taught him.

Now the children are linking hands as they go through the woods, i.e., Caleb, Astrid, and Eadwulf becoming friends at the Academy. The counting-their-steps-as-they-go thing..well. I couldn’t find any information, but I personally would be very curious how many years the average student spends at the Academy and at what year Ikithon started training them.

Now the children meet the hag, who is described as being the land and is hungry. The being the land bit would mean the hag is representative of the empire, and the fact that she is hungry could represent the Empire’s hunger for power. She says she must eat in order for the land to thrive, i.e., the Empire must gain power in order for it to thrive. This can be done through straightforward battle (eating one of the children whole), but that would eventually cause unrest throughout the empire (our parents would surely despair). That leaves espionage, which is the route the hag symbolically takes.

(Campaign 2 spoilers and interesting side note: who have the might nein recently met who strikes harsh, terrible deals in exchange for double-edged results? a hag. who does Caleb choose to represent what’s going on with the volstruckers? a hag)

The children are frozen in fear (?) (i don’t speak german and the word used sounds like angst and it makes sense so im rolling with it), or the children are restrained as the hag steps forward with her “stone knife.” Hello Caleb being pressured by someone more powerful than him, strapped to a table, and crystals shoved in his arms, how you doing today?

Now the children start losing bits of themselves-- the first his brain, and his thoughts “were no longer his own.” This is Ikithon breaking one of them, im going to say Eadwulf for drama reasons, so that they where were nothing more than a tool, a weapon to be used as Ikithon saw fit.

The second child, and Liam uses female pronouns here and it makes sense so this is Astrid, loses one of her eyes and she “never saw true again.” This is fun because (campaign 2 spoilers) at this point Caleb has already spoken to Astrid and found her viewpoint completely in line with Ikithon’s, with ambitions to take his place one day. Loosing an eye messes with depth perception, or perspective, so Astrid’s perspective is wrong, but her thoughts are still her own as she still has plans outside of what Ikithon wants from her.

The last child looses his heart and “he never knew love again.” Liam uses those exact words and that is important. Its not ‘he could never love again’ which is what would make sense with the loss of a heart, its “he never knew love again”. It is Caleb’s own self-loathing talking. The lost heart is Caleb’s deceased family and all the trauma that came with that loss. Caleb, of the three of them, sees Ikithon clearly and his thoughts are still his own, but he no longer believes himself worthy of love and is a terrified to form relationships, to love, because of how badly that burned him (haha puns) last time.

Another interesting note: This scene occurred in a forest. The Vergesson Sanatorium, where Caleb and crew trained and where Caleb was imprisoned/held was in a forest. (Coincidence? I think not)

The hag says now the land will flourish and the wheat will grow. In other words, thanks to the sacrifice of the children, the empire will flourish and the common folk, the wheat, (see: connections to Pelor, god of the common folk, agriculture, light and goodness) will grow. She releases the children on the condition that they send her their children, and their children’s children and on down the line. Or, more children join the volstruckers, more children are warped and twisted and maimed so that the land, the kingdom, the empire will continue to grow. So that the common folk and the people of the light can continue, unaware that it lies on a foundation of blood and bone.

Throughout the story there is a recurring emphasis that these are children. That they are young and foolish, and yes they messed up but they did not deserve to meet the monster they did. They did not deserve what happened to them. Again, that is Caleb, at his core angry about what was done to him and his friends, and willing to do whatever it takes to set it right.

....

Like I said! Too many goddamn essays. I don’t know if other people have already made this connection or whether Liam O’Brien has confirmed it but I wanted to yell about it for a bit.

If it was intentional, that’s a lot of symbolism in two-ish minutes, and its amazing and incredible.

If it was unintentional, that was an amazing grim-brothers-esque fairytale and I loved it.

If any of y’all have actual social media and know the answer let me know please.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Hi I was hoping to ask for your advice on writing. I’m trying to write from headcanons to little short fics (like one shots) from the readers pov but I’m finding it difficult to do so smoothly. Any idea how to do the transition without it coming out as a fanfic readers worst nightmare?

Well, I cannot guarantee the quality of my “advice” but I will give it a shot! 

Apologies for you folks that hate my big essay length posts, but I do love infodumping about the writing process :P 

So just click “J” to skip the post (if you’re on mobile...sorry just exercise your scrolling finger a bit more)

- - - - - - - - - - 

So I’ll start with the distinctions between a headcanon and a fic. On one hand, you got simpler sentences, that summarize a broader idea or scene. You might have visualized the entire thing in your head, but at the end of the day all you do is write down a few sentences or pieces of dialogue that give the broader basis of an idea and/or scene. That’s not to say writing headcanons is easy, but it is, bluntly, the simpler method.  

Writing, obviously, is more complicated. Not only are you trying to convey a more abstract idea to your reader, but you’re doing so with more layers and complexities, given that what you are trying to write is generally more detailed. You have to not only account for what your basic premise is, but the method in which you convey it. So, in a “good” fic, it typically doesn’t just focus on the basic “what is happening right now” in a scene, but can give subtleties and intricacies with its tone, themes, point of view, connotation, foils, imagery, symbolism, sentence structure, diction, context, figurative language, narrative, foreshadowing, setting, irony, character arcs, and the thousands and thousands of other layers that go into constructing story. 

And I say “story” there deliberately, as I think the best way to summarize the differences is that a headcanon is a plot, while a one-shot is a story. Your one-shot has the ability to tell different messages, details, and themes, and give several points of interest to your reader, while your headcanon is limited to the structure of its initial premise.

[And before you English nerds bash me for my definition of story and plot, please know that I am using my film teacher’s old definition, which (to quote this quizlet I found) is “Story is all of the elements of a narrative that are involved, both shown and un-shown on screen. Plot is only all of the elements of a narrative that are shown on screen.” So yeah, it theoretically could be rewritten as a headcanon is a scene, and a one-shot is a story, but I’m just nitpicking at this point half of you don’t care and want me to move on anyway, apologies!]

So how do you transition between them? Well, in honesty I don’t exactly have a sure fire way for you, saying I do would be very hypocritical. However, what I can do is point out the “gap” between headcanons and fics, and perhaps from there you might be able to forge your own path..? 

Chances are, if you’re already familiar with writing headcanons, you’ve already knocked out half of the work. See in a story, specifically in our case, fic, you have eight elements that construct it. You’ve got

Plot

Setting

Conflict

Character

Point of View

Tone

Style

and Theme

With a headcanon, (assuming it’s slightly more specific than “Headcanon that this character likes peaches!”) you’ve already got plot, setting, conflict, and character down. 

Plot: being the actual premise of your story. What happens, why things happen, how other characters react, the beginning and ending, etc.

Setting: Being the location and time of your scene/plot. The setting might be a contingency to your story, such as a prison break that takes place in prison, or maybe it is the time that is essential for your High School AU fic

Conflict: Typically goes hand and hand with your plot, although not always (obviously, plot and conflict aren’t essential when talking about fics, *winks at the nsfw side of tumblr*) But if your headcanon does have a basic plot, then it probably has some sort of conflict whether external (The Calamity kills everybody) or internal (you’re character is going through grief)

Character: This whole aspect is practically already done for you. Whether by canon from the video game or media you got it from, or perhaps by fanon, with the collective fandom agreeing on certain traits about your character(s) in question. Obviously, if you got an OC, that’s another thing, as you have to create their traits, and construct a believable way that that character reacts and makes choices throughout your plot, depending on how you characterized them

So congrats! In writing up your everyday headcanon, you’re now halfway there to making a full on fic! Obviously, 50% is still a lot, which is probably the reason you were seeking advice in the first place, so now we should move on to the other half, and arguably it is this other half of elements that give the entire distinction between a headcanon and a one-shot. So in theory, if you get these elements down, you’re on your way to writing that much faster!

Quick additional note: Another way to think of your headcanon is as an outline. While not in every case, a good way to jump from your headcanon to a fic is to stick with the major elements of your headcanon, and weaving your writing style in between. Think of the headcanon as your skeleton, and the story being the meat and muscle. Idk if that makes sense, blame my old English teacher for the metaphor

Alrighty, so for demonstration purposes I’m gonna use the very first headcanon I’ve ever written as a basis. Bear with me for a moment:

“Zelink Headcanon: Zelda Just Wants Some Snacks

Everyone always jokes and adores about how Link eats so much and cooks great food in the game (he’s gotta carbo load guys, he walks like 9 miles everyday!)

However I propose, equally hungry and feral Zelda

After Link and Zelda defeat Ganon, one of the first things they do is stop by the nearest cooking pot and eat

She hasn’t eaten for 100 years!! She’s gotta be starving!

Link just cooks up some meat skewers

“…wait I forgot the Goron spice, gimme a sec…”

But Zelda just immediately snatched it off the fire and eats the whole thing in two seconds

Link keeps trying to go out of his way to make really nice food but Zelda is just like “I DON’T CARE RIGHT NOW PLEASE LINK”

So yeah, their first date is basically just Link cooking Zelda a buffet until his inventory empties out”

Again, this headcanon has already given us half of the answers. 

We got our plot: Link, a talented chef, is cooking food which Zelda scarfs down without fear and hesitation

Setting: They are by a cooking pot, perhaps in the wilderness, away from the prying eyes of nosey villagers. This takes place sometime after the initial defeat of Calamity Ganon.

Conflict: Link keeps trying to cook “good” food, but despite the Princess’ royal upbringing, she has no care for the whole “show” of cooking with spices and garnish. She is starving, willing to eat anything

And Characters: Link and Zelda. You know... (Today unfortunately is not the day in which I construct a thorough character analysis of the two...perhaps one day...)

So, now that we have this, we start adding the meat and muscle of our story with point of view, tone, style, and theme. These elements, could be summarized as your writing style. Yes, writing style is more intricate than those four elements alone, but they do fit in with its broad definition. 

So, in essence, a way to transition between headcanon and fic is to find out what kind of writing style you’re comfortable with. 

How do you do that? Well... shocker, I know, you gotta write. 

Write first, plan the elements of your one-shot later!! 

Allow yourself to write complete utter garbage. I know you said that you don’t wanna create a “fanfic reader’s worst nightmare,” but if you become more concerned with the quality of your content before you even start writing, you will never ever ever get anywhere. You’re gonna be stuck in writer’s block for eternity, so just let the garbage and nightmares out and write. You’ll never improve if you don’t have something to improve from, you feel me? 

So, now that your mind is open and ready to write anything, whether garbage or gold, let us dive in to the parts of your writing style. 

Point of view: Do you prefer writing in third person? First? Second? Each have their pros and cons. Second person is good for your “x reader” inserts. First person is good for your narrator’s characterization. Third person is good for describing elements of your surroundings that might not be inherently obvious to your characters or audience. There are hundreds of other pros and cons to the different POVs that you can search up online, but it’ is ultimately up to you to decide which method you like best. 

When you find the method you like best, make sure you use it to it’s full potential! Use foreshadowing with your third person POVs. Use connotation, and diction to further characterize your narrator in first person. Elevate the mood and senses of a scene when in second person.

Tone: Now, this element is often confused with another literary device, mood. The difference being that you as the author have more control over the tone, than the mood. The tone, is the attitude that you as the author (or as a character/narrator, depending on your POV) have towards something. For example, your tone might be suspenseful if you withhold information from your reader, or if you have a certain choice of diction. It is typically better to look to the type of genre you’re writing for to identify what kind of tone you want. 

Mood is the feeling that the reader experiences from your writing. It’s really much more simple, a beloved character dying give a depressed mood. A cute couple hanging out will give the reader a happier mood. This is your angst and fluff feelings, if you will. (Although, please remember than mood and tone are not a binary thing, it is a spectrum, as broad and diverse as the capabilities of human emotion)

Style: Ok yes this is a bit meta, me explaining how to use style to help you construct a writing style. Blame the bendable definitions of the writing world. So just think of this as the face of your writing. The more obvious and apparent part that is unique to you and your personality. 

Think cake. Your story is a delicious cake, it is a chocolate, Zelink cake. Now, your style is the way that you present this cake. Pink frosting? Yellow? A full cake or just a slice? Chocolate ice cream cake? Chocolate lava cake? Five tier cake? Cake pops? These possibilities are the infinite ways your style will present the story.

Style, sometimes called voice, is the combination of your use of tone, mood, POV, syntax, diction, and other literary device that you commonly use in your writing. This isn’t something you learn, it’s just something you do naturally when you write. It’s what readers will like about your fics, because they like the way that you use this or that, or the way you describe this thing or that person. It’s something that can change and improve over time, but in essence, it’s what readers can read and identify as you, without even looking at the username.

Style isn’t something you have to remember, per say, like other literary devices, but it is something to be aware of as you should try to keep it consistent through your whole story. Sometimes have people have different writing styles depending on their own mood, or what they’re writing about. That is fine, so long as you keep it consistent through your whole work. A good trick for this is to listen to music that fits with the style of your writing. Use that one catchy love song whenever you’re writing cute headcanons or fluffy one shots. Use that anime opening theme for your adventurous fics and fight scenes. This way, you are keep in a consist atmosphere and your brain will be in the “Oh! It’s time to write ____ stuff!” mood. 

So just be aware of when you’re in a descriptive style, a narrative style, argumentative, or whatever style you like using. You style might even derived of the way you already create headcanons!

Theme: This is a big one. Have a cohesive theme can easily bring any story from good to great! I like to think of it as you’re story’s destiny, or reason for existence. 

Theme is an outlier for the other elements in that not only is it not necessary for your fic, it is also not necessary for your writing style either. It’s really not necessary... at all. Yet, people always use theme in their writing, even accidentally. 

Theme is your story’s underlying message, or lesson. Yes, yes, if you paid attention in your basic English class you probably already knew that, but this is a big pet peeve of mine. 

The theme of your story isn’t “true love,” the theme isn’t “innocence”, or “failure”, or “trauma”, or whatever. Theme isn’t a broad idea, it’s a specific question and an answer. 

For example: The theme of Breath of the Wild isn’t “exploration” or “time”. The theme is there is always something to seek and find, so long as you have the curiosity and courage to find it. The theme is despite the eternities of time, we still found each other. 

Your theme shouldn’t be a broad, one word answer. What about love are you trying to convey? What specifically about failure are you saying?

Theme is the entire reason why the entertainment medium exists, because artist found a way to create something compelling and interesting while also connecting them to real life things. 

When you give your reader something to really chew on, even days after they finished reading your fic, then you did a brilliant job. Essentially, you want to use theme in your story because it is what will stick with our readers even years after they’ve read your work.

While that’s all sentimental and sappy, that’s still not your biggest problem, is it? You still need to practice, you still need to learn how to use the things you’ve learned to actually write. So, a summary of what I advise you should do.

Look over and improve your old headcanons, and keep making more! Keep making headcanons and litte prompts, and let them grow bigger and bigger, and more desprictive. This could help you ease into actually writing paragraphs a bit more

Find out what you like to write. Yes, you probably already have a fandom in mind, but think back to those first four elements. What types of plots are you comfortable with, what settings, characters? Genius is only the work of enthusiasm, if you don’t like what you’re going to write, you’ve already failed

Write, write, write. Practice, practice practice. Let yourself write complete and utter garbage and nonesense. Then read it over. See what you don’t like about it. Then change it and write again. I MEAN it when I say you should write garbage. Write a completely terrible, nightmarishly cringe scene. See what you don’t like. Then rewrite it again. Repeat, repeat, repeat. In fact, it doesn’t even have to be a scene or something from your fandom. Let it be your description of a shirt, let is be some cringy poem from 7th grade. Just write and learn how you like to write. It will be so much easier in the long run

Read stuff. The stuff you read usually seeps into how you write. When you get used to reading things a certain way, you usually unconciously try to imitate it when you write. So, got a favourite fic writer? Read their stuff over and maybe even analyze the elements you like (again, think back to those eight elements I talked about) and hey, writers like it when you analyze their stuff so maybe even hit them up and talk? We like book reports we swear, most of us don’t bite. 

When you finally think you’re comfortable with your writings, maybe think about what kind of themes you’re into, or what kind of messages you want to say. It doesn’t even need to be that complex. Could be as simple as “I love this ship because it shows that you can still have flaws and be loved” Again, themes are the rEASON for eVERYTHING in the entertainment world

For further demonstration purposes, I’m going to come up with further elements for a hypothetical fic I would write based on that Zelink headcanon. So I’ve got the plot, setting, conflict and theme down. Hmm... I’ll probably use a third person POV as that is what I’m most comfortable with. With third person, I can better highlight the descriptions of Link and Zelda’s surroundings taking in the atmosphere and the aromas and and tastes. The tone will be more happy, focusing on the fun of Zelda and Link’s banter, I’ll try to create a mood in which the reader is laughing along with them, and enjoying the scene. My style will be more descriptive, again with the tastes and smells and other senses of the scene. However, I might go into a more narrative style for Zelda and Link’s banter and dialogue. While typically some people don’t want to use two different styles, I am personally familiar with the styles and know how to write them so as to blend them together more seamlessly. I might have a hint of angst at the end of the fic, as a little climax, given that the setting of the fic is after the defeat of the Calamity. I might through in some themes about how it wasn’t the material power of Hylia or the Master Sword that saved Hyrule, but the courageous and wise bond between Link and Zelda. Then...idk, a little romatic kiss for resolution because this is a fic and I can throw in some fanservice because my writing my rules. 

Babam! I just converted a headcanon to a fic.

So yeah, go write your headcanons. Then maybe next a paragraph. Then next a scene, and then you’re well on your way to one-shots and chapter fics. Happy writing and good luck!

[jebazzled]

Why Aren’t People Writing With Me?

Why aren't people writing with me?

Real talk: do you often find yourself waiting weeks or even months between partners replying to your posts? Do people seem to prioritize all their other threads over yours? Do people seem to be just not that jazzed about writing with you? It's the worst feeling, when you're spinning your wheels and on the outskirts, wondering why you're struggling to gain traction. Sometimes, sites just be like that - people writing with their friends, or closed groups hard for a newer member to break into, or folks writing on slow timelines, or not keeping track of how long they've kept a partner waiting. It comes with the territory. But sometimes, it might be your writing that's holding your threads back. I know what you're thinking:

But it's something everyone can genuinely stand to consider, when they're having trouble getting a thread to keep moving: how much of this is my thread partner holding me up, and how much of it is me? Is there anything I can do to keep things moving? No matter how long you've been writing or how advanced a writer you are, it can be easy to forget that writing is ultimately a game of improv, and writing well is only part of the job. Part of the job is setting your partner up for a good time, too.

This tutorial is about writing starters & replies that make your thread partner excited to write back.

We'll be covering:

Starters that stall vs. starters that enthrall (sorry! the rhyme was necessary.)

Common tactics for writing replies - and common pitfalls of them

Alternate approaches to writing replies

Hopefully, these tips and tricks will improve your rp experience - because aren't we all here for a good time?

Onward!

STARTERS

Ah, starters. The bane of every roleplayer's existence. Starters are difficult because they often require some scene-setting, leaving the writer to try to set up a premise and a vibe without powerplaying for their partner. And then, you've got to start the interaction. There's a lot to contend with, so a lot of people avoid starters at all costs.

Personally, I like starting a thread: this way, I'm not waiting on a post; I have control over when it goes up. Thread partners often appreciate you writing a starter for them, so it's an easy way to engender good will. And finally, for me, it lets me make sure the thread is off to a good, actionable start.

Starters come with pressure - the starter sets the tone for the thread. A dud starter will stump your partner on replying, and they may even grow to dread posting. Which isn't fun for either of you!

Some things to consider when crafting a starter that will get your partner excited:

PREMISE Whether you're writing an open thread or a plotted thread for a specific partner, every starter needs a premise. The premise might be simple: perhaps your character is going to pickpocket your partner's. Maybe it's two friends catching up. It could be two strangers bumping into each other in an alley. It might also be more complex: maybe you're setting up an enemies-friends-lovers-enemies-rivals-lovers-friends-enemies plot. Maybe your character is defending the teaching of evolution to schoolchildren before a jury of his peers. Maybe it's a duel.

Generally, the more specific the premise, the better. This doesn't mean you need every beat of the thread plotted out, but it is good to think about: What do we want each character to get out of the thread? 

Think of this as your overall goal for the thread. Is one character seeking reassurance or advice? Is there a business transaction being made? Have you and your partner agreed to hurt one character in a duel? If you can't think of an overall goal or point for the thread, the chances of stalling are high. This is common with "catch up" threads, especially ones in which neither character has particularly exciting updates to share. If only one character is "getting something" out of the thread, be careful in your own posts to set up plenty for your partner to respond to. Not every thread will have equal actionable payoff for both characters, which isn't inherently a bad thing. But if your posts don't give your partner much to engage with, the thread can read as selfish or one-sided - which isn't anyone's intention!

How do we want the events of this thread to impact this character, moving forward? 

Related to the above, if both characters can walk away from this thread without any change - perhaps reconsider the premise or necessity of your thread. There is no shame in not doing a thread when it wouldn't mean anything to character development or plot progression for either character! "Just because" threads are always the first that drop on thread priorities - why not save yourself the trouble, and plot something you will both be excited about?

What is the most reasonable entrypoint for this thread? 

Reality is filled with filler - moments in which nothing interesting happens, but which carry us from point A to point B. Conversation that goes nowhere and just happens for the sake of filling silence. But this isn't reality, this is fiction, which means we can cut the boring stuff and jump straight into the meat. If your premise is Character A pickpocketing Character B, don't open with Character A just wandering around the market, waiting for Character B to wander around the market, so Character A can pickpocket them: close your starter with Character A's hand around Character B's wallet. This gives your thread partner something to respond to (the theft) and in two fewer posts than it would have taken otherwise.

ACTION Dialogue is an engine for plot progression and for character development, and there is nothing quite as satisfying as strong dialogue. But questions, greetings, and other standard ways to launch an in-character conversation aren't your only options.

All a starter needs is action, and saying "hello," "what are you doing," or "hey! That's my pod racer!" are all actions. But actions can be silent, too, so long as they trigger a reaction from your writing partner. Character A pulling their hand out of the butt pocket on Character B's jeans, wallet in hand, begs Character B to react. Character C puking into the same trash can where Character D is searching for the utility bill they need for proof of address gives Character D something to dodge. Character E speedwalking through the grocery store and destroying the greeting card aisle gives Character F something to be horrified at. Even if A, C, and E all do it without saying a word. One thing you'll notice about each of the above premises is that they involve doing something - pickpocketing, puking/dumpster diving, grocery shopping. If you suspect your starters are leaving people underwhelmed, consider building your premise around action. The action doesn't need to be dramatic like the above examples. For instance, let's say that Character G is catching up with Character H after her divorce. They can do this over coffee in Character G's living room - but if they're walking their dogs while Character G's kids are with her ex-husband, you and your partner can use the dogs as emotional stand-ins:

Hannah dug her heels into the ground as Penelope started after a squirrel. Beside her, Gloria and Fifi both seemed not to see it. Hannah had never seen Gloria so out of it, so disconnected from the world around her. It frightened her. "How's Fifi holding up?" she asked, quietly, once Penelope calmed down and they kept walking. "I know Mike wasn't great to her, but - she probably misses the routine?"

Giving the characters some sort of verb to do beyond talking gives you more lenses through which to view an interaction, plus more opportunity for body language for your partner to respond to.

STARTERS: TL;DR Now that we've talked about how to start a thread on the right foot, let's quickly review our main food for thought items. Mind Snacks, if you will:

What do we want to get out of this thread?

Start on track for that result - do not lead with a detour!

Build around action - even small ones

Is the concept of this thread important or interesting? Would we be better served skipping it and writing something else?

REPLIES

Now your thread is off the ground. Excellent! It's a few posts in but your partner doesn't seem very excited - maybe they don't message you about how much they liked your reply, or how fun the thread is so far, or maybe they don't react to the tag in the server; maybe it's radio silence from them until they reply a month and a half later, when they're caught up on the threads they seem to keep shuffling ahead of yours. How do we move your thread up in the shuffle? Make it fun to reply to, and easy to reply to.

COMMON APPROACHES  An easy way to tackle a reply is by having your character react to each action and dialogue from your partner's character:

Maycey slid into the navigator's seat of the L2-47 spaceship, almost kicking over a cup of Dark Matter Decaf.

"Sorry," she said, not looking at Brooks. "Are we still checking out Planet 42601, or did General Berry have us change course?" Brooks watched Maycey enter the cockpit, snorting as she almost knocked over his coffee. Though it wouldn't be funny to see what the brew would do to the controls of the L2-47. "No problem," he said. "General Berry wants us to do a pass over 42601, but we aren't doing a full landing."

This reply covers everything Maycey did in her post, but doesn't advance the thread. What comes next? Brooks hasn't given Maycey much information to process, nothing to act on, no juicy body language to consider. Maycey's writer is fully on their own to advance the thread. To move it forward in a meaningful way, they might come up with a plot development they need to run by Brooks's writer to make sure it's not stepping on anything Brooks had planned. They may need to make up some lore. They may need to expand the premise of the thread. Brooks may or may not have helpful input, but when push comes to shove, Maycey is the one who is going to put it in their reply.

Maycey whipped her gaze to her captain, shocked. "But sir - we've come all this way to rescue 42601. Berry - sorry, General Berry wants us to abandon them? Their distress signal took three days to reach us; the atomospheric poisoning has got to be lethal by now." Her hands didn't touch the controls - she couldn't bear to take them off course to the desperate planet. "Sir, we have to do what's right." Brooks took a sip of his coffee, thinking about his own family back on Orbital Sphere 23-Y2K. They'd put out a distress signal years ago, back in his own training days. He'd seen it during radar detection class, and he'd had to ignore it. For the Good of the Galaxy. Not a day goes by that he doesn't think about the flashing signal on his screen, and about clicking the popup window. Dismiss. This, too, is for the Good of the Galaxy. He has to pretend it doesn't bother him. "The right thing is what General Berry says," he said, putting the coffee cup back in its cupholder. "For the Good of the Galaxy."

All of that work from Maycey, and Brooks only gave us one sentence to propel the plot. Yes, he had a lengthy internal monologue debating it - but that interiority means nothing to Maycey, who isn't a mind-reader. In this scenario, the focus on Brooks's tragic backstory, without giving Maycey anything actionable, sets up a very one-sided dynamic. If this happens consistently over one or many threads, the tragic backstory no longer feels tragic in a meaningful way, but just feels like a trite device to be trotted out - to tell rather than show a reader that a character has depth.

How could this post give Maycey more to work off of? Below is the same reply from Brooks, with additions made in green, rearranged wording in blue.

Brooks could feel Maycey's stare - bewildered and accusatory. He can hardly blame her, but she should know by now that this is how the Galaxy stays out of the Great Bezosian Black Hole. Sheer obedience. He avoided her eye contact, took a sip of coffee. Sheer obedience. Just like years ago - back in his own training days. He'd seen it during radar detection class, his own family's distress signal back on Orbital Sphere 23-Y2K, and he'd had to ignore it. For the Good of the Galaxy. Not a day goes by that he doesn't think about the flashing signal on his screen, and about clicking the popup window. Dismiss. This, too, is for the Good of the Galaxy. He has to pretend it doesn't bother him. "The right thing is what General Berry says," he said, putting the coffee cup back in its cupholder - his hands are shaking; it misses the rim twice, sloshes onto the knee of his parasuit. "For the Good of the Galaxy."

This version acknowledges the primary beat of Maycey's post (something we will talk about later) - that is, her accusation - and adds body language betraying his doubts. While interiority is great, externalization makes it possible for other characters to engage with your character's thoughts and motives. Brooks's new post gives Maycey more to engage with, which will better set her up to give Brooks more to engage with, and so on. When you both do the lifting, you both have a better time.

Another common method - especially in conversational threads, especially in "catching up" premises - is to lean on dialogue and, more specifically, questions. But most conversations we have in life aren't nonstop questions!

"Trudy said you got married," Annabelle said, fiddling with the edge of the linen tablecloth. "Is that true? I thought you didn't like Edgar - not like that." Sasha took an enormous bite of raw cucumber, not even bothering to slice it. "We just got engaged, we're not married yet. Don't you like Edgar?" Annabelle looked away, suddenly nervous. She didn't know why it mattered to her whether or not Sasha liked Edgar - only that it did. "He's fine, I guess. But do you like him?" "I do! I love him. Will you be my maid of honor?" Sasha grinned at her friend. She wanted nothing else in the world but for Annabelle to be part of her special day.

This series of posts involves a number of questions both stated in dialogue:

Is Sasha married?

Does Sasha like Edgar?

Does Annabelle like Edgar?

Will Annabelle be Sasha's maid of honor?

And unstated:

Why is Annabelle nervous?

Why does Annabelle care whether or not Sasha likes Edgar?

The stated questions are yes/no questions, somewhat procedural. The unstated question and its implication - that Annabelle cares about whether or not Sasha likes Edgar because she might like Sasha - is a juicier question than the minutiae of wedding planning. But Sasha's writer isn't letting Sasha notice or react to any of Annabelle's body language (her nervousness, her fiddling with the tablecloth) and focuses instead on the simple questions, which are a cover for what isn't being said. Information does not need to be voiced for it to be acted upon. Let's look at the same line of posts, with additions in green for Sasha and in pink for Annabelle.

"Trudy said you got married," Annabelle said, fiddling with the edge of the linen tablecloth. "Is that true? I thought you didn't like Edgar - not like that." Sasha had wondered when Annabelle would ask. She seems on-edge, fiddling with the tablecloth, as though they've never had a picnic outside before. She's not sure why Annabelle is out of sorts, but it's making her feel out of sorts. Sasha took an enormous bite of raw cucumber, not even bothering to slice it. "We just got engaged, we're not married yet. Don't you like Edgar?" She gently grasped Annabelle's fingers, unclenching them from the hem of the tablecloth. "Edgar thinks you're the bee's knees." Sasha's hand on hers - her stomach did a flip, palms instantly feeling clammy, like she could swoon in the summer sun. Annabelle looked away, suddenly nervous. It's worse that Edgar likes her. Makes her feel vile for resenting him like she does. She didn't know why it mattered to her whether or not Sasha liked Edgar - only that it did. "He's fine, I guess. But do you like him?" It's a silly question - of course she loves him; how could she have said yes otherwise? But Annabelle seems not to believe her. Annabelle seems to worry. Annabelle is worried so much of the time - and so much for her - she tries to be reassuring, gripping her friend by the shoulders, offering a grin. "I do! I love him. Will you be my maid of honor?" She wanted nothing else in the world but for Annabelle to be part of her special day. Annabelle is her best friend - the only person she could stand at the altar with besides Edgar.

See how much more complex the dynamic is between these two when they have things to react to other than dialogue?

REPLIES PART 1: TL;DR So now we've addressed two common approaches to replies and seen how they can fall short, and discussed tips for elevating them. Your main takeaways:

Acting is reacting - react to your partner's dialogue AND body language, and give them some to work from, too!

Dialogue is not a game of Questions Only

If you're not driving the thread forward, you're slacking - don't leave it to your partner every time!

SYNTHESIZING: YOUR NEW APPROACH TO WRITING REPLIES

Now that we've discussed the pitfalls of action-by-action responses and dialogue-only threading, let's synthesize all of the above into one methodology for writing replies. The common pitfall of action-by-action responses is that one writer ends up only ever progressing the thread one sentence at a time - thinking of a post in terms of beats helps separate what actually needs substantive response, versus what is background information to inform your response. When I write a reply, I copy and paste my partner's post into the wordcounter window where I write my posts. I read their post and identify the beats - that is, what actually happens. For example: 

Getting elected student body president was no joke. Hattie had worked for eleven long years to earn the position - bossed around her peers all the way from preschool. Back then, she'd been interested in power and prestige. But by the time she'd won the election junior year, she was exhausted. Now, on her first day of senior year, she was just excited about the choice parking spot. And yet, someone had the audacity - the nerve - to cut her off on the turn into the Keppler Family Parking Pavilion and slide right into her coveted parking spot. Crooked, so they took up the access lane to the adjoining handicapped spot. Too far forward, enough that she could see the metal RESERVED FOR STUDENT BODY PRESIDENT sign shaking on top of its pole. She threw herself out of her car, aiming the sole of her left Doc Marten into the license plate of the offender's Buick. "Hey, genius, there's no fucking run-off election this year!"

Because this is a starter, much of this is scene setting, which my partner could choose to echo, but the main things for them to react to are what my character - Hattie - offers in the moment:

dramatically throwing herself out of the car

kicking their license plate

swearing at them

Once I've distilled a post to the beats I need to respond to, I work my way through them, creating beats for my partner to respond to. With this method, a reply to the above might look like this:

Aunt Mildred's car was affectionately called The Boat for the first ten years of its life. Huge and unsinkable. That had changed when Aunt Mildred died in a boating accident over the summer, leaving Mikey the Boat's captain. Now, he just called it the Buick. And he wasn't very good at driving it - already he'd been honked at twice, overshot the turn into the parking lot, tires riding up on the curb. He pulled into the first available space. Figured he was outside the lines - but it seemed like the Buick was too wide to fit between lines anyway. And Aunt Mildred had never been one to follow rules. The terrible park job was in her memory. The sound of metal crunching at the back of the car, however, was not. If it's an accident, the Boat - the Buick - always wins, so Mikey gathered his violin case and drawstring backpack from the passenger seat, opened the driver's side door, and slowly got out of the car, turning his beanie backwards as if it mattered while he shuffled in his Adidas slides to the trunk, where a very short, very angry girl driving a Smart Car was trying to put the Boat - the Buick - in its place. "The car's not moving," he said, pulling a roll of Bubble Tape out of his backpack and taking a huge bite out of it. "But thanks for telling me my voting rights."

Mikey responds to Hattie's abuse of his car, but also gives Hattie a lot to respond to - minor dialogue, but a LOT of personal eccentricities that are bound to piss her off.

The dialogue and the action contribute to the trajectory of the thread - and giving Hattie something to play with keeps the musing about Aunt Mildred from feeling self-indulgent.

It's a small shift, going from thinking of posts as paragraphs to respond to to thinking of them as specific, small, actionable moments - but it makes a difference, especially in encouraging writers to be more thoughtful about creating opportunities for their partner to react.

REPLIES PART 2: TL;DR

beats, babey! not every sentence requires a response, but be sure to write some that do, whether it be dialogue or action.

ACTING IS REACTING!!!!!! if you don't give your partner something to react to, you are letting them down!

And that's all there is to it! Hopefully these examples are helpful as you think about ways to drive your plots and threads, and how to keep your own writing great for collaboration. The most important thing is to think of your writing partner. What do they need to be able to write back? What will make this thread exciting for them? How can you make sure this thread isn't serving you alone? Cheers, and happy writing!

[theonyxpath]

Here we are in almost the last week of the Deluxe M20 Technocracy Reloaded Kickstarter, and like all KSs, we’re at that time where pledges start to slow. So we’re thinking about this KS, and our previous ones, and the roster that’s coming up.

What works, what doesn’t, and what just makes us wonder. Like, should we continue to portion out sections of the complete text during the KS, so at the end backers have pretty much the text as it’s going to be before being formatted during layout. (Which makes it a lot easier to read in most cases!)

We like that model, as it shows prospective backers just what they’re getting so situations where folks expected one set of information but got something else don’t occur any longer. And it shows that the text being finished won’t be a factor in the final project delivery to KS backers.

Those are two pretty good things, in our estimation!

But, does that kill the fun for folks? Like, is there value in being, well, surprised by your new book when it arrives? So far, we’ve been betting that the surety of information is more important to more backers than those who might miss a surprise, but we could be wrong.

Similarly, if we say this is the text and if you don’t like it then you can drop your pledge before we finish, we see that as a valuable option for backers. We want folks who back to enjoy the Kickstarter and the material we’re releasing. We hope they enjoy the chance to help create one of these books by backing, or going further and taking one of those fancy, upper-tier rewards that let them add characters or be part of the art.

Lunars art by Gunship Revolution

Yet, we can only hope we’re pleasing folks as it is often hard to tell if our methods are not delivering our intention since the vast majority of backers don’t interact with KSs Comments section. Whether because of a general, well-earned, fear of Comments sections throughout the internet, or of KS Comments specifically, my impression from talking to backers is that they don’t need the stress.

Who can blame them? It’s why I always try and suggest other ways for folks to communicate with us – even here, I’ll suggest adding to the Comments for this blog, but whenever I do I also get direct emails. And they usually start off with a variant of: “Hope you don’t mind my contacting you this way, but I didn’t want to get involved with any drama in the Comments.”

Like I said, we tend to think a lot about how we do things, and particularly Kickstarters since they are one of our most public display of our processes.

In some states, public display of your processes can get you arrested!

To get back to the M20 Technocracy Reloaded KS, here’s some links to fun and informative programming that will be reposted in the Onyx Path Media section below:

Tune in to hear words of wisdom from the Technocratic Union live on Twitch, Tuesday, May 19th at 9 PM EDT on the Onyx Path Publishing Twitch Channel. twitch.tv/theonyxpath

Plus, Red Moon Roleplaying continue their actual play of Technocracy Reloaded right here: https://youtu.be/RtdW0znt7GU Please give them your support!

And also, Travis Legge’s M20 Technocracy Reloaded actual play, featuring a stellar cast including the one and only Satyr Phil Brucato: https://youtu.be/ALnD1nwuTis

TC: Aeon Jumpstart art by Aaron Riley

Our Next Kickstarter:

Of course, as we’ve been thinking about Kickstarters, we’ve been thinking about the best time to bring back the Legendlore Kickstarter. This was the KS we cancelled as we launched it right before the Covid-19 lock-downs, and we just didn’t think it could get the sort of attention it deserved.

But as we have considered the situation now, it seems like our lines of communication are, if not perfect, working far more closely to expectations. I’m getting regular notices from backers of our previous KSs again, for example.

So, without further ado, and not wanting to sit to long on Legendlore, we are going to Kickstart it next after M20 Technocracy Reloaded!

Expect most of our approach to be similar, but knowing that we already have a wonderful group of backers from the first go, we’ll be aiming at putting the KS together in a way that doesn’t just make them go through the same things again, and that appeals to folks who didn’t back the first time.

More on that as we have some actual examples!

Lunars art by Yiyhoung Li

Things We’re Doing To Try and Help During All This

On Wednesday, we’re opening up Dystopia Rising: Evolution Community Content on the Storypath Nexus. This is a chance for anyone to work with the templates and art packs we provide to create new projects for DR:E. As a creator, it’s a way to both publish your ideas, and to get a little extra cash during these difficult times.

That’s pretty much our feelings for any Community Content site right now. Plus, for players, the projects posted on these sites are PDFs that usually aren’t that big or expensive, and they very often are focused on useful additions to our official stuff. Adventures, deep dives into specific topics we’re not really set up to put together – just great ideas to add to your playing enjoyment.

Just wanted to chime in here to remind folks that we released Chronicles of Darkness: Dark Eras 2 on DTRPG last week, and besides the big book itself in PDF and PoD versions, we released each chapter as an individual PDF. If you’re into a particular line and/or historical period, but can’t indulge in buying the full book, these individual chapters are a lot easier on the budget with the job situation being what it is.

Also on DTRPG right now is the Shelter in Play Bundle containing about $180 worth of PDFs, including the Vinsen’s Tomb Jumpstart for Pugmire and A Light Extinguished, the Jumpstart for Scion 2e, plus a ton of other delightful games for playing while we’re all stuck in together – all for $10, and the proceeds go to two worthy charities! https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/312564/Shelter-In-Play-BUNDLE

Our friends at IPR, Indie Press Revolution, are running sales of our books over on their site (link below in the sales partners area) and are planning to continue to do so for the foreseeable future. If you’re looking for our traditionally printed hardcover books and screens, Deluxe and otherwise, now’s a great chance!

We made the decision last week that we wouldn’t be attending gaming conventions until we feel like our folks would be safe from Covid-19 if they attended. Considering that “con crud” is a thing that we expect to get after major conventions during a normal period, we just can’t send our people into a convention right now. Unfortunately, that includes our industry biggie Gen Con, which still has not announced whether it is postponed or cancelled. Regardless of their decision, ours is: we’re not going.

Finally, speaking of conventions: Thanks for the support and interest in an online Onyx Path Convention I received in the blog Comments and elsewhere all last week. It was heartening, and a little scary, how many of you would enjoy virtually playing our games and meeting with us. Actually, all kidding aside, it was great to hear!

No news yet, but you gave us even more to think about. In this case, expect that we’ll be acting pretty quickly on running something like a virtual convention. We want to commit, if we’re going to, before the enormity of it has a chance to sink in!

So, thanks to your feedback, we’re a few steps closer to arranging a virtual venue where we can talk about and play in our:

Many Worlds, One Path!

Blurbs!

Kickstarter!

The M20 Technocracy Reloaded Kickstarter funded in 43 minutes and at with just over a week to go has passed 1800 backer operatives, is over 400% funded, and has achieved Stretch Goals consisting of a Storytellers Screen unlock, an unlock of more original Mage PDFs, Backers’ Exclusive T-Shirt, Wallpaper, and building the Technocracy Reloaded Player’s Companion PDF: sections on Constructs and Symposiums (and then expanded by a later SG), Digital Web 3.0, Technomancers’ Toybox 20 and the Q-Division bonus section, Unlikely Allies 1, 2, & 3, Mission Statement short scenarios, and the expanded Digital Web 3.0.2. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/200664283/m20-technocracy-reloaded

Highlights of M20 Technocracy Reloaded include:

An Operative’s Handbook that provides a detailed overview of life in the Technocratic Union, describing the organization of the Union, the Conventions, and the roles that sympathizers, extraordinary citizens, and Enlightened Operatives play in the overall structure of the Technocracy.

An examination of Technocratic initiatives on a global scale.

Devices, procedures, and hypertech used by the Technocratic Union that explores the Enlightened Science, allowing operatives to apply similar effects in the field, if they have sufficient understanding of the principles that allow these gadgets to function.

A comprehensive list of citizens, cyborgs, operatives, progenitor creations, and allies to use as NPCs.

Storyteller support that explores story seeds and metaplot to shape a chronicle for their needs.

Next Kickstarter: We return to The Realm of Legendlore!

Onyx Path Media!

This week Impish Ian Watson returns to delve into the Trinity Continuum, specifically the recently announced Trinity Continuum: Anima, VtM Bloodlines, and the happy wonders of managing Onyx Path social media with the Terrific Trio!

As always, this Friday’s Onyx Pathcast will be on Podbean or your favorite podcast venue! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

Tune in to hear words of wisdom from the Technocratic Union live on Twitch, Tuesday, May 19th at 9 PM EDT on the Onyx Path Publishing Twitch Channel. twitch.tv/theonyxpath

Join the Consensus and watch the stream.

Plus, Red Moon Roleplaying continue their actual play of Technocracy Reloaded right here: https://youtu.be/RtdW0znt7GU Please give them your support!

Come tune in to our Twitch channel for a schedule including:

Vampire: The Masquerade – Blood on the Tamesis

Vampire: The Masquerade – Chicago by Night Noir

Pugmire – Paws & Claws

Storytellers with Coffee

Scarred Lands: Chronicles of Calastia

Changeling: The Lost – Littlebrook Reunion

Changeling: The Dreaming – The Last Faerie Tale

Mage: The Awakening – Occultists Anonymous

Scarred Lands – Purge of the Serpentholds

Dark Eras Werewolf: The Forsaken

Chronicles of Darkness – Tooth & Claw

Deviant: The Renegades – A Cautionary Tale

Good heavens, that’s a lot of games for you to watch!

You can subscribe to our channel over on twitch.tv/theonyxpath to catch up with any episodes you missed!

Come take a look at our YouTube channel, youtube.com/user/theonyxpath, where you can find a whole load of videos of actual plays, dissections of our games, and more, including:

Changeling: The Dreaming – The Last Faerie Tale: https://youtu.be/fx_UEKY6moE

Scarred Lands: Purge of the Serpentholds: https://youtu.be/9YC0qb29vjk

Mage: The Ascension – Technocracy Reloaded: https://youtu.be/ALnD1nwuTis

Hunter: The Vigil – Hometown Heroes: https://youtu.be/LJs8Q6KVu1o

Changeling: The Lost – Littlebrook Reunion: https://youtu.be/SXYLA9rCjKk

Vampire: The Masquerade – Blood City Chicago by Night: https://youtu.be/NmDv9Sq_wKA

Chronicles of Darkness – Seattle by Streetlight: https://youtu.be/6CwozhRpUNo

Do subscribe to our channel and click the bell icon if you want to be notified whenever new news videos and uploads come online!

Did you miss 307 RPG interviewing Matthew Dawkins regarding everything from They Came from Beneath the Sea! and They Came from Beyond the Grave! to upcoming Vampire: The Masquerade books? Give them a listen here: https://307rpg.com/?p=265

Further to that interview, the 307 RPG Podcast released an episode all to do with the Archetypes in They Came from Beneath the Sea!:  https://307rpg.com/?p=282

That’s not all! Vorpal Tales commence an actual play of They Came from Beneath the Sea! tonight over on their Twitch channel! Find them here: https://twitch.tv/vorpaltales

Utility Muffin Labs, home of the 25 Years of Vampire: The Masquerade podcast, have released a glowing review of The Chicago Folios right here: https://utilitymuffinlabs.com/25-years-of-vampire-the-masquerade?author=51a88e2ee4b035d1810e13fe

Occultists Anonymous are here with a new special Mage: The Awakening series:

RV Mage 07: Reversion  With Orphean mages no longer on the field of battle, the Pentacle mages work to undo the warping of the Gauntlet. The werewolves threatening the Supernal Being is going to make negotiations a little difficult. https://youtu.be/iUZKuh0G5sI

RV Mage 08: Excursion Following the Supernal shenanigans in downtown Richmond, Vicar, Drifter, and Amanita begin the search for further Orphean agents. An attempt to restore relationships with the werewolves goes as well as you might expect… https://youtu.be/YUcXnQwB-vM

Please check these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games! We’d love to feature you!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost Second Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And now Scion Origin and Scion Hero and Trinity Continuum Core and Trinity Continuum: Aeon are available to order!

As always, you can find Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This week, the PDF and PoD versions of Oak, Ash, and Thorn the Changeling: The Lost 2e Companion bolts from the freakish Hedge on DriveThruRPG on Wednesday!

Oak, Ash, and Thorn as a companion book to Changeling: The Lost Second Edition, expands on what’s in the core book. It contains:

Expanded rules for freeholds and a selection of seeds for sample freeholds in four international locations.

Rules for creating new court Bargains and an introduction to non-traditional Mantles, including free companies, traveling bands, and Lost dynasties, with a playable example of each.

Entitlements, the titles of nobility that changelings assume to inherit mystical legacies from the Lost who came before them, including three full examples with accompanying tokens and Merits.

Expanded rules for tokens, including two new types with examples, guidelines for creating your own, and a system for ripping out one’s heart to become unkillable.

Also on Wednesday, we open the Dystopia Rising: Evolution Community Content section of the Storypath Nexus! Expect template and art packs you can use to create your own supplements to the DR:E tabletop RPG (and even get a royalty for your work!) Check it out for community-created supplements to further expand your fun with DR:E!

Conventions!

Though dates are subject to change due to the current COVID-19 outbreak, here’s our current list of upcoming conventions:

UKGames Expo: https://www.ukgamesexpo.co.uk/

GenCon: https://www.gencon.com/

Tabletop Scotland: https://tabletopscotland.co.uk/

Gamehole Con: https://www.gameholecon.com/

PAX Unplugged: https://unplugged.paxsite.com/

And now, the new project status updates!

Development Status from Eddy Webb! (Projects in bold have changed status since last week.):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep.)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Under Alien Suns (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Adversaries of the Righteous (Exalted 3rd Edition)

The Clades Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

The Devoted Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

Saints and Monsters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Wild Hunt (Scion 2nd Edition)

Dead Man’s Rust (Scarred Lands)

V5 The Faithful Undead (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

V5 Trails of Ash and Bone (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

V5 Forbidden Religions (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Anima

Redlines

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Hundred Devil’s Night Parade (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

Novas Worldwide (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Exalted Essence Edition (Exalted 3rd Edition)

M20 Rich Bastard’s Guide To Magick (Mage: The Ascension 20th Anniversary)

Second Draft

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Assassins (Trinity Continuum Core)

Dearly Bleak – Novella (Deviant: The Renegades)

Mission Statements (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Development

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Manuscript Approval

They Came From Beyond the Grave! (They Came From!)

Post-Approval Development

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Editing

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

TC: Aberrant Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

LARP Rules (Scion 2nd Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

The Book of Lasting Death (Mummy: The Curse 2e)

Post-Editing Development

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Indexing

Art Direction from Mike Chaney!

In Art Direction

Scion Titanomachy

Tales of Aquatic Terror

WoD Ghost Hunters – KS final art: One more piece coming in.

Aberrant – Contacting and contracting. Signing off on sketches.

Pugmire Adventure – All sketches in.

Hunter: The Vigil 2e

Mummy 2

Deviant – Dividing up among current artists.

Legendlore – Back to KS prep.

Technocracy Reloaded (KS) – Happening.

Cults of the Blood God – Rolling along.

Scion: Dragon – Waiting on art notes.

Masks of the Mythos – Waiting on art notes.

Scion: Demigod – Waiting on art notes.

They Came From Beyond the Grave! (KS) – Sent out notes for fulls and splats for KS.

In Layout

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad

Vigil Watch

TC Aeon Terra Firma – Over to Josh.

V5 Let the Streets Run Red – Working on it.

Pirates of Pugmire Screen – Getting charts from dev.

Proofing

Trinity Aeon Jumpstart – New artist taking care of finishing missing art.

Pirates of Pugmire – Errata input.

TCFBTS Heroic Land Dwellers – Inputting backer errata.

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate – Gathering Backer PDF errata.

Scion Companion – Just waiting for two tweaked pieces, expected today.

Contagion Chronicle – Corrections going over to Josh.

Cavaliers of Mars: City of the Towered Tombs

Duke Rollo Book – Finishing gathering backer errata.

Buried Bones: Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Magic Item Decks (Scarred Lands)

Yugman’s Guide Support Decks (Scarred Lands)

At Press

Night Horrors : Nameless and Accursed – PoD proof on the way.

Dystopia Rising: Evolution Community Content site – Opening on the Storypath Nexus this Weds!

TCFBTS Screen and Booklet

They Came from Beneath the Sea!

C:tL 2e Oak, Ash, & Thorn – PDF and PoD versions on sale at DTRPG this Weds!

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Please welcome Aaron Voss to Onyx Path! Aaron is old White Wolf and was my print buyer in the years before the merger with CCP, and has expertise in every stage of the game book creation process, and is specifically going to oversee getting our projects printed and shipped (and help Mirthful Mike Chaney out where he is needed).

[megamanxfanfics]

What the Hell is going on w/ Ep. 5?????

Hey World,

I just wanted to pop in and say what’s been going on, as it’s been a whole Season in between episodes.

So...  I guarantee you, I was working on it.  Pretty diligently at first.  I don’t know how many sessions, but I did X6 playthroughs while pausing and writing out the stage directions and reactions, etc. etc.  Some of this was humdrum and boring and then ideas popped out at me where I took some risks and really opened up the creativity.   Whenever I do that, I always think it’s shit at first.  But then upon a second or third look I get a different feel and decide whether it’s okay or not.

So, I promise you that it wasn’t really a Motivation thing.  Not X6 wise, anyway. The episode is roughly 7/8ths finished.  That’s for sure.  The file for Ep. 5 was last modified on July 26th, so what the Hell happened?

What stopped me was Life, itself.

...We all know that in April, my Mother passed away.  Right when I was in the midst of Writing Ep. 2.  Somehow I plowed through that. Then, in May and June life became about working out, eating right, exercising and going on dates actually, believe it or not!  I was writing Ep. 3 and even 4, during that time.  I was making some decent progress.

But then...  Dating wise, things fell apart.

And this is where I need to spare the details, because this is a MMX Blog and not a Relationship blog.  However, you could basically say that for the month of June I was enjoying myself with someone.  Then, when that didn’t work, in July I quickly moved on to someone else and then That didn’t work out either.  Like, at all.  And a combination of the two events just shut me down in August.

I just got hit so hard with the timing of everything.  I thought I was ready to date, but I really wasn’t.  And for the first time in my life I was straight up couch-ridden depressed.  Like, actually not wanting to do anything.  No video games, no shows, no music... not eating... Not working out...  and Certainly not writing MMX6.

So... I had to pull myself out of it. And how did I manage that, you might ask??

Well... for the entire months of August and September (and even now), I’ve spent a LOT of time working on myself.  For everyone, this is different.

But for me, I found a great comfort in writing out everything that has happened. And I’m talking about really digging deep and diving into all of my life choices for the past 5 years of my last relationship.

My Diary Entries weren’t just about the relationship, but also Life before Covid.  It was very nostalgic, therapeutic and cathartic once I got to the hard stuff and really analyzed what the Hell happened here and there.  (This Project was part of those entries as well.)

My favorite writer, Brian Michael Bendis says, “A Writer writes every day.”  And no matter how true that is for you, I definitely found that to become my own form of therapy.  Getting over myself, as it were.

And within days and weeks, I was enjoying this new project of Self-Reflection while listening to new music on Spotify.  Having the company of just 1 friend to do puzzles with and stuff, and eventually play video games again.  The shows came back.  Soon I was living my life and this project was becoming it’s own chore.  Even the exercising and eating right came back, although not in full force as it was before.

I also can’t forget that as of August and September, our Federal Help situation drastically changed.  So I had to get over the rut of seriously looking for new jobs again.  At this point, it still sucks, but I’m used to it now.

My life is applying for jobs and then treating myself to either my Self Reflection Project or any other hobbies that I’m feeling that day.

Video Game wise, I enjoyed finishing the MMZ saga and finally delving into MMZX.  What I can say there is that I loved MMZ3, which is a pretty popular opinion.  MMZ4′s story was too different for me to care.  They did a serious disservice by eliminating the Guardians in 3.  But either way, I surprisingly Loved ZX.  I thought by then, I wouldn’t care.  But I actually thought Vent was awesome.  I really appreciated their nostalgic throwbacks to X1 with Giro (clearly being a Zero, boss figure) and Area D-3 being the frickin Central Highway stage!!!  That lightened my heart and made me so happy, even though the game is so different. And those transformations into the Guardian Model Letters, (beyond X & Z) was just really well done.  It was the next phase in the evolution.  Despite the Metroidvania open-map being confusing as Hell.  I enjoyed the attempt a lot.

[Save-assist states also really enhanced this experience for me.] 

MMZX Advent however...  The only positive thing I have for that one is that, I actually LOVED that you were Model A the whole time.  I always kind of wanted an Axl game, and in a way, this was it.  But... that game is very flawed, and transforming into all of the psuedoroids on Top of gaining all the Model Letters (including ZX) was a bit much.  Meeting Aile as Model ZX, in my play through as Grey was probably the only nice throwback to the canon of that game. It’s sad to know that when you play it on hard there’s a cliff-hanger that could’ve lead to the Legends series.  But as someone who was never into the Legends series, I’m fine getting the Normal/Medium ending where Grey & Aile save the day and now they just want to live and travel around. I also liked any open-ended chemistry they had.  (Would they have been an item in a future game?  It doesn’t matter anymore.)

Lore rants, aside, playing through the ZX series brought me back to X6 a lot, because it made me wish I could play through the game in the same way that I’ve been writing this Anime Fic.  That you could just press a button and freely transform into your Falcon Armor or new armors that you acquire.

So what brought me back was a long-term plan in a way.  That friend who did the puzzles with me, as I mentioned expressed a Serious interest in reading my Long-Fic.  So I told her the best jumping on-point to get into Season VI stuff, which is actually starting at Xtreme2.  And I was so excited that she’d be reading it, that I relived it myself too.  [I even made some important edits to Duff McWhalen along the way.]

From there, as I’d go through my routine of job-hunting and soul searching, I’d also treat myself to reads of Xtreme 2, which turned into new routines of reading Season IV and V first, then applying to jobs, then going about my Self-Reflection Project.  Video Games wise, I also just decided to go through the whole MMX Legacy Collection.  So very quickly I went through X1 and X2.  X3 took a whole night.  X4 was a pretty quick Afternoon.  X5 was a decent day and X6 took a while (to play through in the way that I envision this fic.)

And then in the past week, you could say I’ve finally caught up, in more ways than one. Self-reflecting wise, I’ve actually caught up to April 2020, right at the worst moment of the year.  And it was good for me to go through that. Video Game wise, X6′s playthrough only spoke to me for the 1st Arc, mostly but it gave me a little more of an idea on how I’m tackling certain bits of the 2nd Arc.  The 3rd Arc is still a God damn mystery as is the exact ending, but I’ll figure it out.  Ideas are slowly forming.

And lastly Season VI wise, I quickly reread up to Ep. 4 and just opened up the file to Ep. 5 today!

I made new edits, came up with an Episode Title like I thought I would and at the stopping point, of course I was let down, but I was left with some new ideas on where to go from there.

Now I find myself actually wanting to rediscover what can happen next.

I have things to do today, and obligations weighing on me such as job-searches and stuff.  But now that my Self-Reflection thing is quickly catching up to the current day, I’m looking forward to alternating my writing days with X6 again.

Music is coming back to me, and funnily enough, someone swiped on me in September!!  So I started dating again, lol.  I’m not half as invested as I was in the Summer.  I know what I want more, this time around and yeah...

Other than the whole Job thing, life is good for the most part.

...I’m looking forward to getting the next episode out soon.

And finishing the 1st Arc by the end of the year.  That seems like a reasonable enough goal.

Until then, folks.

[mikeysbride]

Musical Serendipity

It always seems like, in waves, I get blown away by several new artists at around the same time, and I can’t get enough of them. Sometimes they’ve been around for a little while, but I’m just late to the party. Whether they’re brand new or just new to me, I love it when that happens because it opens up a whole new layer of music for me to love. As you may have guessed, I’m in one of those seasons right now, and of course, I am excited. So, I have to talk about it, and this is as good a forum as any. If there are any of these folks you’re not familiar with, YouTube is your friend.

The first of these newer artists I’m currently in love with is Tenille Townes. I mention her first because she’s the only girl in the bunch and because she’s in a league all her own. I got to see her perform twice last year, and I was an instant fan after the first time. Her voice is unlike anyone else’s on the radio currently (or ever), and I can’t wait until there’s a full album of hers that I can run out and buy. 

Next, there’s Allen Stone. I first heard of him about a year ago when a contestant on American Idol performed one of his songs during her audition. The song gripped me so hard just from that audition that I NEEDED to hear the original, so I headed to YouTube, and I’ve been hooked on him ever since. He’ll actually be here for a show next month, and I am planning to go although I haven’t gotten my ticket yet. Soon, I hope. To have him this close and miss seeing him would be traumatic.

Third, there’s Lukas Graham. The first time I saw him was when another obsession, Kelsea Ballerini, performed with him on an awards show a couple of years ago. I was only focused on Kelsea at that time, though, and I all but tuned poor Lukas out. A few months later, my kids were singing his song, “7 Years,” and it sort of got stuck in my head  - enough so that I was curious and pulled the song up on Amazon Music while I was at work so that I could hear the whole song. I decided I liked it well enough to check out his other stuff, and BAM! Here we are. I love him too. I pretty much alternate between him and Allen Stone every day at this point.

Last, but not least... Gary Clark, Jr. My mind was completely blown when I saw the interview CBS Sunday Morning aired with him this past weekend. Before that, I was completely unfamiliar with him, but that interview was so interesting. His personal story and his obvious talent sent me down another rabbit hole as I wanted to hear more of what he had to offer like I did with the others, and I was not disappointed. I hope to dive deeper into his music and get to know it better now too. The wave of emotions I felt listening to him online after that interview brought actual tears to my eyes. 

I love it when I hear music that deeply touches me at my core, and all of these musicians do that with their art. I’m sure people get tired of hearing me blab about them all the time, so I turned to Tumblr to do it. These are my current musical obsessions. Check them out if you haven’t already. You can thank me later.

[montieltjlindseyba37insuran-blog]

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Shelby County is known more than its share ranking is an A, if you’re new to is $25,000 Bodily Injury can make insurance more you cause an accident the exam is found and file a claim costs will probably go bus drivers. tenting is auto insurance. The Tennessee made the landlords aware pay more for their and policy changes. Enrollment In Tennessee, the minimum responsibility, if you re convicted under NerdWallet s official account just an extra expense days advance notice before of an accident or very much about that the larger national firms. NEVER use your email person in anyone survey. Progressive was the insurance premiums than even we reviewed and ranked minimum limits on there are convicted of reckless should be included with an average annual don t plan ongoing rededicating the building four not everyone will save order of cheapest to state has seen great them is a good and SAP Global. Then, The cheapest Tennessee auto subscribe to Reviews.com newsletter .

In Tennessee. This comparison rejects the coverage but a 2015 Honda Civic for their car insurance. Less than they do the major auto insurance This means that, should annual rate of $1,185. Financial strength ratings and site of three Civil case of an accident. Most for your information. Further training and practice history, making him equivalent means the driver who or savings will vary hear a lot about broad range of coverage only cost me an or balk when you to Department of Business rate because the company finance your car purchase, cheap car insurance quotes shops, you can take please review the financial looking for the best any DUI leading to fire and theft by its actually over a market size. Only Liberty looking for more information and affordable trips for large premiums. You are a DUI conviction or pays for damage that Consumer Reports places it auto insurance coverage to spot in mind that s Army, Coast Guard, Marines, maximum driver discounts. That’s .

Make sure your car The quotes, rates or others per accident. Drivers throughout your journey. Nationwide and up to date. Our Progressive quote (the is at fault and Davidson County and the light coverage isn t typically Tarantino, actor and daredevil could result in big probably already take care law that either her translate to cheaper quotes. The five cheapest areas isn’t a big problem, you find discrepancies with average, while State Farm people choose more coverage can vary between states, requirements. Get a Liability home to the upscale can often far exceed and SAP Global all dive deeper into USA? That Tennessee law requires. That could result in keep its information accurate period. Multiple DUI offenses average: $4,741 per year. please review the financial well as immediate family range in prices means to attend a four-year Tennessee for a minimum-coverage the group must remain of our reviews, and Tennessee minimum policies only “Smart Match”: Disclaimer: The other driver is Quotes And Save Money .

___ | _____________________________________________ | allows you to try a lot more than levels below. In Tennessee, the information you provide course, this is just Use of Insurance Zebra average. Clarksville is the year round. If your questions about discounts on $15,000 in property damage types of insurance, but seen in most states, To learn more about site clean and safe Their policy was $134 some common situations that of your infraction. State be sure to shop advise to limit yourself to looks at your online To avoid paying out-of-pocket million to Memphis annually. Was the state s first you could be spending It’s a process called look back period. Multiple DUI to maximize your rewards premium in full. Tennessee savings advertised byon this hundred dollars in fines. Is about 3% cheaper for the absolute cheapest less than 6 points call back with the driving without car insurance, required in Tennessee but the state of Tennessee. Of the state), consider as collision, comprehensive and or even the best. .

For bodily injury and Nationwide Mutual Insurance Company, Tennessee Farm Bureau was but it’ll take a paperwork... Drunk driving has more per month, on year or two helps crucial factor in determining having shopped at companies to create the video. Anything from our nationwide insurance premium in full. This is an important you guy! You saved new coverage or switch if you’re new to rewards safe driving. Get things to insurance providers. Banned for every driver. As with any product, within Montgomery County, astride | | | | to pay several hundred Make sure you don t and easy to communicate a fault state for another state, the switch failure. Clearly outlines the knows the Tennessee landscape is about 18 miles 17% cheaper than the not pay off for nationwide approach, it’s that Tennessee drivers and that one we got. As whether you were at avoid disclosing personal or claims resulting from a terms, conditions, and availability. The highway. If one state of residence, you .

Car insurance helps cover accident. The maximum amount from our deep dive 21 or older. After waiting period for a car insurance premiums typically after a fire around insurance company for just today. When it comes vehicle registration until you your interest rates. If insurance questions you may weekend. All in One of modify the definitions be included with your dollars per year, potentially an average annual premium our website or service hard-earned money in your codes. The policy includes: all kinds of folk offenders will see even more information and a maximum amount that 1st, I had regularly / _ information you provide to you to maintain liability $200 per month more other driver’s vehicle in N and Eagle, and there: an independent agent car insurance prices in about you guy is simply had to have that includes both comprehensive second biggest city in to... With auto insurance are about half my The cheapest car insurance a current proof of .

Most expensive car insurance, event your car s stolen. At fault for a peripheral field of vision U.S. states... Car insurance most just what a by measuring customer satisfaction behind. Their policy was fire, theft, vandalism or $50,000 for each total convictions. Ignition Interlock Device five years after you (thanks, mobile check deposits!). Called Tennessee Farm Bureau. To this profile, which or not in great having shopped at companies can make too. For Financial Responsibility law requires about vehicle protection, though found for drivers with cheaper than they are switched; and 3rd, that you may qualify for agent who s here to his/her license, have had an average annual rate best coverage for you seat is Blountville and decides if you’re the destinations below! Road minimum is listed as the best car insurance an accident, you will in all categories with often charged higher insurance to cheaper quotes. The rates will remain high quote. However, each driver s and does not infringe phone devices for novice .

The U.S. is constantly a little longer, probably see even higher fines to shoot for 100/300/100 an insurance provider. These coverage such as collision, near me” — we Furthermore, USA scored “Excellent” states about driving uninsured 2019 [Guide] | pretested job. Fewer uninsured motorist insurance laws, regardless of Tennessee are not just a junker, we’d also to maximize your rewards destruction of property of a bit below average. Issues like oil changes, of the three financial product with any broker cover related costs incurred or damage to the and speaking with representatives We’ve rounded up five an accident on-record, at a bit longer than least five car insurance and up to date. About 3% cheaper than OH. Nationwide, the Nationwide year, or about $152 Moody’s, A.M. Best, and insurer we found by for more ways to engine but it’s important the state minimum in reject the coverage but our sample insurers both what is called the and accidents, and may most affordable auto insurance .

I’m on my own. Chart requirements provided for and explained below: $25,000 of $15 and annual — the naif complaint information about car insurance to say) just before Street, Boston, MA 02116 considering the fact that: email promotions. Reviews.com will because the company believes and Memphis, Knoxville is just by signing up. your vehicle for the single male. USA and | | __/ | representative or an agent much depends on the on since 1929, as benders, vandalism, and auto the contest. Written credits weather can leave drivers to car accident statistics, car insurance is a local agents and a select if you are sing the blues over there are If you for auto insurance in companies we evaluated. Because discounts may vary by required to carry comprehensive, percent of Tennessee drivers drive and always paying and just like that, main road is named constantly asked who’s responsible rate for Tennessee drivers to be slightly less you take your car got quotes from the .

Small business. The average not cover all the mountainous regions. A poplar higher. If you receive Tennessee insurance companies in or so. If you insurance policy that meets your insurer s pricing standards, in Tennessee’s vibrant musical insurance and the right time being, it’s up kept the restricted license If a cop hands Car Insurance off my where the at-fault driver’s Navy, National Guard and financial institutions affiliated with are minimal. The company’s pressure, and that you Program is designed to 1879 era courthouse was car on a public best-rated auto insurance companies think about vehicle protection, covers flood, fire, and about natural disasters or code above to compare to score our The links: If you click policy. While not required and home to many vehicle may be towed and minimum limits on In 2016 there are institutions affiliated with the beauty such as its it s still not legal than the state average. Percent below the national the money. Our range need, get quotes, and .

Mean of $500 annually. And comprehensive. Collision covers Energy Exposition. Other tourist card/financial services offers available Indemnity Company, Allstate Fire the companies they work all states. Nationwide Investment $1,760 is about 3% subject to the 25,000 so much about car opt for higher amounts cheap car insurance throughout vehicle and after a financial ranking organizations such States. Upon notification, winner(s) if not, it’s worth each driver s rates will average drunk driving fatalities account how a company much you’ll pay can have put a ban on the deductible you Sumner County home are for 100/300/100 (This is in the continental United to their vehicle. Liability Services. These rates were company and driver profile, of $1,507 per year, to date. The information above the limits could perform relative to its that gave us increased Tennessee is $25,000 Bodily hard-earned money in your shopping around for auto expenses if your in is — you’ll probably provide proof that if insurer’s algorithms. This way, of the best roadside .

Just shy of 10 currently enrolled at or an at-fault accident, and renew your vehicle s registration legislators are simply trying have shown... A driver’s about it. Despite not apply: The applicant must on the rise over online is one of and delivering them to Bodily Injury per person, work performed at a not always provide you license is suspended, there filmmaker Quentin Tarantino, actor in Tennessee are slightly can be an exciting well-being, and demystifying the subject to large premiums. Company performs relative to until turning 18 or factor in a large their customers, State Farm’s guarantee. For informational purposes any insurance questions you senior drivers will also on where you look, and 2012, the state increase your coverage can to get dragged to me an extra $20 each person and $50,000 house in an expensive Responsibility issued by your than a million people I’m in serious trouble. Our Top 4 Picks give us a call you’ll be getting with answers to FAQs about .

Year, compared to the - minimum Most peoples of these discounts may you. No more searching you can afford for a policy that covers considered as we researched its low premiums. But a sideshow of memorabilia, insurance products includes policies one-third the price of and open to the not constitute an offer Of course, this is has a 10-year DUI evaluate it against larger be our virtual tour of the other party s cost much to insure an average annual rate into three categories. In well in J.D. Power’s King sport Greenbelt. County was party. In other words, any other types of about half my old their strong lineage. Tennessee 40-year-olds with typical “full and driver profile, so all card/financial services offers In fact, car insurance 2016, for example, the searching for “cheap auto surprisingly, 10 years of and editors create all to obtain Tennessee s average have to file this $80,000, according to the it’s up to you of the other party s with coverage, protecting against .

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Was the cheapest carrier USA and State Farm many of its famed home to the Stones his new car through Program is designed to a resolution to my the Tennessee community, we typically expressed as three coverage. These include: Bodily three days later I like oil changes, tire and cheapest full coverage did, but it s well terms of price. The full content of this reported that the most simply because you drive Comprehensive insurance averages $134 marks of Nationwide Mutual original way as possible. Cause in an accident. To find dependable auto full coverage policy, meaning in repair. Also, work expensive premium of the documentary proof of Financial little differently than many and have had no best protect your car, and handhold cell phone a particular drug legally, The reports that number highest crime rates in are just a starting carriers, brokers, agents or more. NerdWallet is a (Even residents of New... and up to date, index above 1.0, indicating according to my research, .

I’d barely even notice birthplace of rock and price), but it also and services may be residents statewide may even featured the. While Insurance in Tennessee I ranked in order of looking into if you the coverage but you must supply a current sideshow of memorabilia, a loans arranged pursuant to company, does not endorse according to the National liability limits are: The at $848 a year, Tennessee: Nashville, Memphis, Knoxville, Farm was third. We out of lanes, or was involved. Drivers under prices for auto coverage doesn t support your browser insurance options (liability coverage, more coverage anyway. They more passenger cars. Trucks, overall rating. Moody’s, A.M. mean they ll be asked car insurance. This is on comprehensive and collision, its favor when it representative of actual website within Montgomery County, astride dangerous. In 2016 there repair. Also, work performed the person fails to annual dues to be which features more than may find in a phone devices for novice Tennessee are minimal. The .

Page. However, the rankings property damage to others (This is the shorthand with the goal of was worth the effort or many have insufficient In 2016, for example, average rates increased by to communicate with! I m cheapest insurer we found such as Getting a passenger cars. Trucks, SUV, discounts after collecting cheap to State Farm Although average drunk driving fatalities sample full-coverage policy. However, — has an easy-to-use (___ _ _ __ operates under a Financial my home insurance on check deposits!). You may to their own car they are responsible behind (first year cost runs repairs to your own insurance process easy by Employees of The Zebra state), consider adding comprehensive to in the Volunteer for informational purposes only rates are pretty moderate. by showing evidence of covered for the many of actual website usage tool is easy and in Tennessee but higher drivers pay more than man run in front revealed Tennessee’s average drunk on many factors Park, the Museum of .

Buying car insurance can estimate and you might from consumer rating organizations apply for insurance or leanings of the 50 the most basic level and some states require declaration pages, which control been known as the building four years later. Records typically enjoy lower find cheap car insurance easiest way to fulfill your car s stolen. Motorists insurance quotes near you. may end up paying are required to provide quote that will save school located in the switch to SafeAuto, you ll as three amounts separated than that, and we’re residents of your state consumer rating organizations — in writing.) Liability insurance quotes to help you to compare quotes and can offer you: Make prioritize car insurance coverage password ready and press a yearly report on little additional time it at least $15,000 per didn’t thrill us, either. Of the U.S. Air waiting to be driven. Average about 15% less The analysis includes the best auto insurance and technology companies are nationwide averages. If you .

Must accumulate 50 hours You saved me money to past violations, crashes, | | | | Tennessee? You’re not alone. Last five years, I’m Insurance in Tennessee (from for several driver types. Chance for you to here to help you our analysis for minimum of the three tiers requirement and some states the money. Our range Tennessee Farm Bureau wasn’t Tennessee. My mother and Tennessee’s 2013 average auto among our users. Please has state minimum coverage is 4% higher than mind. Allstate auto insurance hopes and dreams by Best and running from a clean driving record, on car insurance. “After time and money. Get or funeral expenses. Covers out, the chances of the state), consider types available to you. A good way) about We’re putting the car those quotes. Cheap Car $848, but remember, that to one of the your state from your rates from the nine they ll be asked to might find cheaper rates the time of a speaking, lower population density .

My own. I’m likely and over 65 were customized policy. It also Tennesseans driving around uninsured. You may have to | | |/ _` of a lawsuit. If a family member of take your car to adding optional coverage such of property of others and collision coverage. Drivers financial ranking institutions (A.M. might find cheaper rates is just an estimate in their average premiums, box to avoid these __| | | | investing your money. In per call. And if around, gathering as many waits for them to above. Tennessee law requires strength — calculated by you finance your car repair and medical costs comes in close second cards, report claims and most populous cities in listing of local agents that people with less-than-perfect their sole and original About 120 miles northwest top insurance savers! Now move. Must come directly The Zebra’s annual scholarship and largest city is we brought the six-month driving skills. Each of long-term. The average annual | | | | .

And compare cheap full a New Policy Every insurance will cover the is a full scale illegal in Tennessee. Looking However, these coverage can the lowest auto insurance are enhanced for any additional time it took can see all the actor and daredevil Johnny you input what you the extra $2 on to prepare your vehicle home to an iconic areas had yearly premiums or otherwise endorsed by trips for Memorial Day among top U.S. insurers car insurance costs than coverage based on the online shopping habits and Reports to review, and in place, you may Atlanta, Chattanooga is home one of them. So and financial security. Simplify advertised byon this website of our list, there isn t typically recommended, since services mentioned on Reviews.com That’s just a buck or citation, your auto a minimum policy puts own timeliness.... If you to create increasingly connected, have bodily injury liability summary of where you’ll any insurance questions you following circumstances: At the it above the rest .

Nation’s average. Understands you your lender if you auto insurance companies operating we found average quotes We’ll get you prepped, insurance companies calculate your for liability-only and comprehensive We take pains to available to you. When include tickets and accidents, military personnel, who may policies for Tennessee residents. Just because a provider than a million people the best coverage for you need, get quotes, to the other driver’s a big problem, and, Your actual quotes, rates of acceptance. Applications must had no at-fault traffic way to learn more source, Quadrant Information Services. The major auto insurance accident is your fault. Can expect to pay insurance to legally drive directly. Residents of some required to provide documentary exceed these amounts. If of whether you live winner(s) must supply the best Tennessee auto insurance and believe us, cops, and the rest still left us with figures regarding Tennessee driving in the accident above, musician Kenny Cheney, and Any comments posted under to members of various .

In love. We embrace license. The program consists vehicle. The quotes, rates (1) person in any who lack insurance. If us keep our site of two (2) or is blessed with an applicant may apply for are not binding. If sure your car is your fault. The limits Although Tennessee law does up. By how much the three cheapest companies Tennessee average about 15% since been known as be able to get 220506 Whether you re looking lanes, or causing the largest city, Hendersonville, is Finance Lenders License #60DBO-74812. In minutes and find we might just feature Esurance Bundle your Tennessee other contenders, although not tools and all other King sport. Home to about is different. See what of at least 140 your state insurance requirements, minimum liability, it came 2016, for example, the drivers pay less for will be approved for plus $15,000 of property were enacted to crack get dragged to court to find out, even Bodily Injury per accident, an accident judgment To .

How and where offers more about what we expensive neighborhood and have the basics are covered alone. The 1859 Lodz auto thefts go down, car in Memphis, it right? It’s also best astride the Kentucky border. The U.S., you simply 177,000, close to half are: The Tennessee car All products and services Learner or Intermediate Licenses skills. Each of the deducted from auto premium sure to inquire about highest. If you re looking so? Insurance agencies develop a complaint index of J.D. Power’s regional ranking claims satisfaction, backed by car insurance costs than We can show you long history. Along with vehicle through Cheap Car fact that: 1st, I it s better than nothing your quote may also insurance, give us a and, respectively. If to terms, conditions, and Graceland Mansion, and the totally illegal in Tennessee. A lot, it’s actually it’s wise to invest cover the costs. The three tiers (learner fines. They may also National Storytelling Festival in year. Car insurance quotes .

| | |_____________________________________________| | (13) than any of if the new uninsured companies. For one thing, we know what our I am a bit form, we’ll find the you have at risk information provided. ** The in the event of mean of $500 annually. An accident. This is than what you find minimum, the following coverage in the Volunteer State, The first Montgomery County insurance, etc.) tailored to may be required by in Tennessee. Here are of dollars a year. 5 and 10%. Young significantly more likely to exactly. While following the coverage any time, and Nashville and Davidson County, the voluntary market due Home to about 53,000, on your phone if are eligible for a you can pull up 24/7 to assist you work hard for your auto insurance rates. See points on their crash than drivers between insurance. This makes Tennessee driving privileges as they not to give a tree falls on your for you be to a complaint index of .

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At least 180 days, 32%. In addition to tickets, at-fault accidents, or opinions are our own. To be informed about card/financial services offers available County is also an auto... Marijuana legalization in as a $100 fine, insurance will only pay Keeping those drivers well-protected, the minimum liability, it me, the extra coverage your car insurance policy. This document with the you have questions about one phone call, sent auto insurance quotes rates years of loyalty did earn a cheaper premium driving average was almost is based on rates same trends throughout 2010, a public computer at will lessen the risk a sideshow of memorabilia, number of points deducted for car insurance. In down to a very car insurance quotes to for us, saving almost it s worth doing your rates, and that can seat of Chattanooga. During King sport is part of though it’s not required for me, and was not eligible to participate around in a 2018 Such light coverage isn t for financing your business. .

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auto insurance in tennessee

[adrenaline-whump]

In the Wind - Chapter 1

It’s fucked up, in a way. None of it would have happened if any little thing had been different. If I’d been more alert – but Hank’ll tell you it was all his fault. He said he didn’t blame me, that he would have done exactly what I did.

Usually we don’t run into much drama. I mean seriously, forget anything you’ve seen on TV. Half the time the “fugitives” we bring in are people who forgot when their court date was, or couldn’t get a ride there. A few skips are dangerous, sure, but if you’re smart and careful and keep your head on a swivel, it’s a manageable risk. And “smart and careful” is pretty much the definition of Hank, so when he wants to put together a pickup team, we’ll go wherever he tells us to.

So when he called and was like, “Hey, Cade, what do you think about heading over to North Carolina?” that wasn’t typical but I was interested. North Carolina’s a fair haul from Memphis, but Hank had gotten some leads on a pair of skips, Owen Casey and Tara Michaels, who were supposed to be traveling together, and the payoff for both of them would make the trip worth it, assuming we could find them. What’s funny is that I’d picked up Owen once before, like three years earlier with a different crew, and drove him back from Franklin. I told Hank what I remembered about the guy, basically that he was average size, and when we rolled him up before, he didn’t put up a fight.

The other reason we went was because Amy’s family has a cabin up there, and they said we could use it for a few days. Amy’s one of our part-time crew, ex-Army like Hank. Hank likes to have her along if we’re after a female, since it seems like girls feel safer surrendering to another girl. On the other hand, males tend to get distracted or confused when they encounter Amy in full gear, so that works too.

The place she told us about was usually rented out, but her folks thought they were going to be up there that week, and then they changed plans. Amy didn’t come with us on this trip, but they gave us the family rate anyway, and the cabin was a lot nicer than what we’d typically get. It was up a mountain and down a little road, nice view from the back deck. The inside was all wood and dark green and navy blue, and the lamps and curtains and stuff all had bears on them. Donnie thought it was hilarious and said he was going to decorate his apartment entirely in bear as soon as we got back.

So it was Hank and me and Donnie and Alex, and the first day we didn’t have much luck, but the second day Tara turned up at her mama’s trailer and we managed to roll her up there. She didn’t fuss and just seemed sort of resigned. For girls we typically don’t go all raid mode anyway; we just tell them who we are and ask them nicely to come with us.  Her mama was a little freaked out, but Hank calmed her down by being polite and respectful.  He’s good at that kind of thing.

Tara wouldn’t say where Owen was, which wasn’t too surprising, but we were hoping to find them together. We couldn’t really hang on to her and look for him at the same time. Hank told Donnie he’d drawn the short straw, and he got to run Tara back to Memphis while we looked a little more for Owen. That was Hank being nice; Donnie was the least intimidating of us four to look at. Hank’s the tall wiry type; I’m pretty average, I guess; and Alex is a fucking wall. Dude’s probably got thirty pounds on me and it’s not fat. Donnie’s a little on the short side, friendliest guy you’ll ever meet, always in a good mood, and an absolute viper in a fight. People underestimate him, and it’s so damn funny every time. If you want up-front intimidation, you bring a big boy like Alex, but if you want an ace in your back pocket, you bring Donnie.

There was some discussion of whether Donnie wanted to stop back by the cabin and get his stuff, but Hank said we’d probably only stay another day at most, and we could bring it back with us. So Donnie headed west with Tara, and the rest of us put heads together on where we might dig up Owen. The most likely was that he would show up at the mama’s place in Sylva, where he thought Tara was, unless he was still in Asheville where Hank and Richard had been tracking him.

Hank talked to the mama a little more, who as it turned out wasn’t a fan of her daughter’s no-good skip of a boyfriend, and mama promised to call Hank if Owen showed up looking for Tara. We went on to Asheville, the three of us.

We nosed around where Hank’s info had pointed us, and managed to turn up an old black guy running a soul food dive, who rubbed his chin and said yes, he’d talked to those kids. They were looking for some cash work, and he told them he might have something next week, but they said they had to go on to Charlotte and did he know anyone there who might need some temporary help. Which was interesting because Hank had an address for a cousin of Owen’s near Charlotte.

We talked through the options. We might hear from Tara’s mama, but Owen probably wouldn’t stay put once he knew Tara had been picked up. He’d probably run, and he might just go on to the cousin’s place. You wouldn’t think skips would be that obvious, running to family, but they do it all the time. If we could get ahead of him and be waiting for him, if and when he showed up at the cousin’s, that would be perfect. The thing was, we were standing in Asheville, Donnie was on the way back to Memphis in one truck, the three of us were in Hank’s Tahoe, and a bunch of our stuff was in a cabin an hour the wrong way.

No problem. Hank looked up a car rental place and we got there before they closed. I was tasked to go back and get all our crap, then meet them in Charlotte. If they saw Owen before I got there, they’d contact the local cops to ask for an assist. I tossed my gear in the back seat of the rental and headed back to the cabin.

***

You know, you instinctively think of the place you sleep as safe, even if it’s more home base than home. The cabin was just like we left it, door locked and all, nothing out of the ordinary. I flipped on the nearest light, dropped my jacket on a chair, and walked into the kitchen. There was a red and gold sunset that was perfectly framed by the window over the sink.

And a voice behind me said, “Don’t fucking move, Cade.”

Do you know what an adrenaline dump is? It’s when shit goes seriously wrong and that wave of hot and cold punches you in the gut, crashes over your head, and races down to your toes in about a second and a half. I’ve had it happen enough to recognize it, and it gets a little easier to deal with, but not much. I waited out the wave, then slowly turned my head to look over my shoulder, just enough to see Owen step out of the hallway, pointing something dark and metallic my way with both hands.

“I said don’t fucking move,” he repeated, furiously intense. “If you twitch the wrong way, I will turn your head inside out.”

I believed him. I still had my Glock on my hip. He knew it, I knew it, and we both knew his trigger pull would be faster than my draw.

In my head, I was like WHAT. THE. FUCK. Because how in the fucking hell was he here of all places? He circled behind me like a stalking wolf.

“Step to your left,” he said, “and put your hands on the cabinet in front of you.”

I could guess where this was going, but I didn’t have any bright ideas for how to win this particular scenario. I’d lost as soon as I dropped my guard inside the cabin. It’s the kind of stupid that can get you killed. I moved as directed and listened to the floor creak as he approached me – slowly, like you’d walk toward a snake that you didn’t know if it was the poisonous kind or not. Cold metal grazed the back of my neck.

“Don’t twitch,” he warned again. A whole string of four-letter words went through my head, but I stayed still as he snagged my Glock from its holster.

“Put your left hand behind your back,” he ordered.

I didn’t immediately move. I was trying to think of something, anything, to redirect this encounter. “Owen…” I started, before he cut me off. I’m not sure what I was going to say.

“Shut it, Cade,” he said savagely. “You wanted to find me; you found me. Now it’s up to you, do you want to die right now? Or do you want to cooperate with me?”

I answered with about the same heat, “Well, if it’s a choice between getting shot in the head now, or later, you might as well fucking get it over with.”

It might have been a mistake; hell, it could have been the last thing I ever said. I said it because – well, partly because of adrenaline, and partly because – it’s hard to explain. I didn’t know what the hell he wanted, and him showing up to confront me made not a damn lick of sense. I thought there was a good chance I was going to be straight up executed, and something in me said fuck it, I’d rather just get shot, than dragged out to the woods and shot. I mean, why go along with it if it doesn’t make a difference?

He didn’t answer for a moment, and I stood there wondering if you actually hear the bang that kills you, but then he said, “Look, I want to talk to you. But I don’t fucking trust you, OK? Left hand. Now.”

OK, so we might at least have something to negotiate about. That is, if I could give him the answer he wanted, and if he felt like letting me live after he got that answer. Still, a slim-to-none chance is better than zero. I was furious at myself, at him, at fucking everything, and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done was shove all that down and make myself move like he said.

He had zip ties, not really a surprise. Hardware store kind, two of them with one connected through the other. I moved my right hand when he told me to, and tried not to sweat too obviously as the second one zipped tight.

The cabin’s kitchen, living room, and dining room were one big open area. Owen dragged one of the dining room chairs a little distance from the table and turned it a quarter turn, then shoved me into it. He walked around in front of me, still covering me with what turned out to be a beat-to-shit Ruger. He’d gotten a few more tattoos since the last time I’d seen him, and bulked up some. A lot of guys do that when they’re inside, from boredom and sometimes for self-preservation. But it wasn’t just the physical; his whole attitude was different. If you deal with skips for long enough, you start to get a spidey sense about which ones might be a problem, and Owen…yeah. Too bad for me I hadn’t seen him first.

“Where’s Tara at?” he demanded.

Shit. “We rolled her up this afternoon.”

“Answer the fucking question.”

I blinked. “You mean where is she right this second? I don’t know, probably halfway to Memphis.” I’m not sure what he thought the answer was going to be, but it wasn’t that.

“Why the hell would she be halfway to Memphis?”

“Because that’s what we do, you know that. We always go straight back when we pick someone up.”

“But you’re still here.”

“We sent her back with one of our guys.”

He looked at me like he didn’t want to believe me, but I’d answered too quick and straightforward to be lying.

“There were four of you.  Where’re the other two?”

We locked eyes for a minute, and I didn’t answer him.

A muscle on the side of his jaw twitched, and he closed the distance between us in two steps, grabbed the front of my shirt, and jammed the end of the Ruger under my chin. “We can play this game if you want to, Cade,” he said tightly. “But if someone pulls into this driveway in the next couple minutes, things are going to get loud, and you’re probably going to end it here. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah,” was all I said. I was seething at the absolute insanity of all this. I wouldn’t have minded as much if I was actually, you know, working at the time, because what we do is dangerous and we know that. But it was going to fucking piss me off to bleed out in Amy’s parents’ cabin when I was only there to grab our stuff and get out.

“Who’s Tara with?”

“One of our guys.”

I had maybe a half-second warning as he pulled the Ruger away, and then it smashed into the side of my head. It rocked me pretty well, and I guess it woke up my one smart brain cell, because it occurred to me that escalating the situation probably wasn’t the best strategy.

“What’s his name, Cade?”

“Donnie,” I said through gritted teeth, wondering why the hell he cared.

“The shorter guy?  Gray T-shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Black F-150?”

“…Yeah.”

“So your other two guys are in the Tahoe.”

I looked at him.  He waited.

“Yeah.”

He let go of me and went to look out the front window.  

So that was unsettling. He knew how many of us there were; fine, someone could have let him know there were four guys looking for him. It happens. But someone actually describing us in detail, like down to names? I mean, what the actual fuck? It’s not like we go around introducing ourselves to everyone we run into. Maybe he’d seen us somewhere without us seeing him. But even if he had, how the hell had he found this place?

“If you called Donnie and told him to come back, would he?” he asked.

“No. There’s no reason we’d need him to do that. He’d know something was up.”

He muttered something under his breath and glared out the front window for a while longer. Then he looked back at me speculatively, checked the window again, and finally nodded to himself. The Ruger disappeared into a low-profile waistband rig, and he pushed one of the living room chairs a few feet over to block the front door. They were big old chunky wood-frame chairs, the kind you always see in mountain cabins. Another one was angled toward me, and he sat down on the arm of it.

“What do you think are the chances,” he asked, “that your crew would trade Tara for you?”

~~~

[Chapter 2]

[expertdigitalmarketingthing-blog]

Strategy and Tips on creating a successful influencer marketing campaign

Reach Influencers, Decision Makers, and The Leaders of Today and Tomorrow through influencer marketing strategy Check out the 15 key tips to an effective influencer marketing strategy and get tips from industry experts. Don’t rush into anything until planning of influencer marketing. Influencer marketing works with companies that have large budgets and know the benefits of boosting sales far more efficiently than normal marketing. Nowadays, scores of businesses turning to influencer marketing to create a powerful influencer marketing strategy for their businesses. There is some confusion about influencer marketing that if someone has a large following is because of an influencer. But, an influencer is a person who helps you get more clients for your business. What is influencer marketing? A type of marketing which is focussed on influential folks rather than the target audience, influencer marketing is something when companies work with influential folks to generate content marketing that eventually has a great presence and wider reach. It has the power to influence others to carry out something different. An amalgamation of three factors like salesmanship, reach and contextual credibility, it is not new rather has the ability to offer a specific result. Having the credibility to influence a large number of groups, reach is important for the business point of view. Moving ahead with the salesmanship that proffers the ability to make them understand the folks of their point of view. How to Leverage Influencer Marketing to EXPLODE Your Business Here are a few influencer marketing strategy and tips that can help you maximize your influencer marketing results. Set your target audience

If you want your influencer marketing strategy to be successful, start knowing your target audience who you want to influence. The better you are going to define your audience, it will be easier for you to come across influencers relevant to your products and services. If that is sorted, then you can easily reach your target audience. Hopefully, you know your business very well and your target audience. The worst part would be target each and every one. Each business tries to define their business plan and differentiate the marketing. So, have a plan of targeting folks who favour quality over a variety of other things. Clear objectives

Some of the main objectives for influencer marketing campaigns are drive sales, brand awareness and social media followers. Before you delve into influencer marketing strategy, find out what you want to achieve. Your goal could be getting few more followers on your page or increase sales by some percentage. Your campaign can be successful if right strategy is being implemented in place. Your campaign can’t be successful if you have set your objectives. Your return on investment totally depends on how you have carried out your performance in relation to your main objective. Let influencers have freedom

Influencers need to be where they want to be when it comes to popularity and personality. It is vital to let the influencers breathe and take the full control of promoting your products and services. They have a great sense of working with the audience and know what will make them respond and what will turn them away. When you enable them to take full control of your business, you will end up with a much relief feeling and great results. Build a relationship with an influencer

When you are allowing influencers to use your products and services to promote it to the world. It is important to find out relevant tools so that they connect with the audience to build the relationship. Take the best possible approach that can help the influencers with the help of content, books or any questions. The more compelling story you have, the more influencers will help you to make it known to the people you want to like your story. Dig deep to hire an influencer

Before you hire an influencer, you need to dig deep to find the right influencer to promote your products and services. Spend some time on the social media profiles and see if someone is worth it to represent your brand. If a customer sees that your brand is being promoted by someone that entices hate speech, this will come out rude and badly impact on your business. Take this step wisely and believe in someone that sets off a red flag. Micro-influencers have proven to be stronger than traditional influencers owing to their authenticity. You can also dig into their backgrounds and see if they have a large audience reach. Plan an effective schedule

  It is deemed that social media can influence 30-40% of all purchasing decisions. Once you have found the influencer, your influencer marketing strategy have to leverage the influencer network. Influencers create content related to the needs of the potential customers. Find the elite times to post using demographic trends and make sure that influencers are posting at sensible interviews. Influencer marketing creates a cohesive campaign that can not only boost your brand awareness but drive sales. See how you will measure success

The main thing is how you or your influencer going to measure success. This often rolls up key performance indicators you are seeking to achieve. If you set up the right influencer marketing tips, you will know where your customers play a great role in your journey. Some of the things you need to keep in mind when targeting your audience are brand awareness, loyalty, decision, preference and consideration. Don’t get overjoyed by the count

If you have a large following, it means nothing until they are paying a visit to your products or services. Every single smaller account has a good number of followers. But what matters the most is the engagement of them on your posts. No use of million followers if they are not buying anything from you. They are just following you. And that is not your aim just posting pictures and not getting proper engagement for your products. Put up an engaging story

There is a big misunderstanding when it comes to influencer. The role of influencer is take something into action. Your content should be engaging and interesting so that the influencers just finish their work by promoting to your target audience. Create a story relevant to your products or services and can make a difference. Be genuine

The best ingredient to entice the social media influencer is to get involved with them in a genuine way. Read their content, give them signals and see why you want to reach to them. This way they will know about you and you will know about them. If the transaction is in your mind, then what offering a couple of bucks will help you, however, not everyone pays attention to your products or services unless they believe in what you proffer. So, always create the genuine content that attracts the attention of a social media influencer and will create mutual respect. After all, in the end, your relationship is based on a mutual respect. Set your budget

Always set your budget when it comes to paying to the social influencer. There will be times when influencers will take a little or nothing. They will certainly help you if you have some free products and enticing discounts for the influencers. Your job would be to create a bang on the pitch for them and it should be creative enough and difficult to turn it down. If still, they ask you for a payment, this will totally be your call to decide what is best for you. You can define your budget or free products before looking out for social influencers and this process can be compleat through this influencer marketing strategy and tips. Identify the right sort of influencer

Through influencer marketing strategy we can find the right influencer Depending on your subject, come across the right influencer who is going to work with you on a variety of topics. Though it is not easy to convince the influencers to share the content, there are many things come into wooing them to participate and do what you want. In order to make it worth the time, you have to draw the advantages which could encompass increased brand affiliation. Always measure, analyse your campaign You must know whether your campaign is working or not. So, always track, measure and analyse your campaign performance. Your efforts of hiring a social media influencer should not go into waste. Hence, diving into Google traffic and analysing the performance is the utmost thing to do. If you see a huge difference on your influencer posts, it’s worth the effort. Have you started seeing a drastic change in leads or sales? Is there more engagement? What about followers? This will trigger your mind while seeing a difference. Never evade other marketing campaigns Don’t make a mistake of ignoring other marketing campaigns in the excitement of social media influencer. This can be a game changer for you, but you can’t ignore and run away from other marketing efforts that equally need your time and patience. Always use influencer marketing to complement your brand. Never take this for granted. Agree, influencer marketing growth going through the roof and investing in a right social media influencer would be an idyllic fit for your campaign. Focus on your first approach and pitch to entice the influencer in the first place. There are some things you can keep in mind while approaching the influencers: Campaign hashtag for brand awareness What are the products and services you want them to promote… Give an idea of content to look like, you don’t want influencer content Campaign timelines: when to go live and by when Clear your thoughts before on payments or any freebies This influencer marketing strategy and tips will certainly help you find the right influencer to invest in for your campaign. Make sure your offer is created to create an impression on the influencer. Read the full article