outline, whatever way works best.
Get yourself out of the word soup and know where the story is headed.
and obstacles. Hurt the protagonist, put things in their way, this keeps
the story interesting. An easy journey makes the story boring and boring is
hard to write.
the POV. Sometimes all it takes to untangle a knotted story is to look at
it through different eyes, be it through the sidekick, the antagonist, a minor
characters. You can’t write a story if the characters are strangers to you.
Know their likes, dislikes, fears, and most importantly, their motivation. This makes the path clearer.
holes. Writing doesn’t have to be linear; you can always go back and fill in plotholes,
and add content and context.
flashbacks, hallucinations, dream sequences or foreshadowing events. These
stir the story up, deviations from the expected course add a feeling of urgency
and uncertainty to the narrative.
a new mystery. If there’s something that just doesn’t add up, a big question mark, the story becomes more
compelling. Beware: this can also cause you to sink further into the mire.
something from your protagonist. A weapon, asset, ally or loved one. Force
him to operate without it, it can reinvigorate a stale story.
and betrayal. Maybe someone isn’t who they say they are or the protagonist
is betrayed by someone he thought he could trust. This can shake the story up
and get it rolling again.
someone has a deep, dark secret that they’re forced to lie about, it’s a good
way to stir up some fresh conflict. New lies to cover up the old ones, the
secret being revealed, and all the resulting chaos.
someone. Make a character death that is productive to the plot, but not “just because”. If done well, it affects
all the characters, stirs up the story and gets it moving.
character actions. Tension is created when a character we love does
something we hate. Identify the thing the readers don’t want to happen, then
engineer it so it happens worse than they imagined.
Keep the readers’ attention by putting the characters into new problems and
make them wait for you to write your way out of it. This challenge can really
bring out your creativity.
stakes. Make the consequences of failure worse, make the journey harder.
Suddenly the protagonist’s goal is more than he expected, or he has to make an
hero active. You can’t always wait for external influences on the
characters, sometimes you have to make the hero take actions himself. Not
necessarily to be successful, but active
and complicit in the narrative.
threat levels. Make the conflicts on a physical level (“I’m about to be
killed by a demon”), an emotional level (“But that demon was my true love”) and
a philosophical level (“If I’m forced to kill my true love before they kill me,
how can love ever succeed in the face of evil?”).
out an ending. If you know where the story is going to end, it helps get
the ball rolling towards that end, even if it’s not the same ending that you
actually end up writing.
What if the hero kills the antagonist now, gets captured, or goes insane? When
you write down different questions like these, the answer to how to continue the
story will present itself.
fresh or skip ahead. Delete the last five thousand words and try again. It’s
terrifying at first, but frees you up for a fresh start to find a proper path. Or
you can skip the part that’s putting you on edge – forget about that fidgety
crap, you can do it later – and write the next scene. Whatever was in-between
will come with time.
So, it’s morning. Or maybe afternoon.
There’s light pouring through the window
and it’s got you looking the kind of
haloed and soft you only see in movies.
I’m only half awake but I’m already
writing poetry about your eyelashes,
can you believe that?
In the mirror, I pretend to watch myself
watching myself brushing my teeth.
Instead, I watch you run your hands
through your hair: again and again and again
and again. More than once, I’ve seen the way
you try to rearrange your body into negative space.
Like one of those optical illusions—
the vase with the two faces.
You forgot you could be both of them. You forgot
that when you lean too close to a work of art
the whole picture blurs and disappears.
A new painting: one with no negative space.
You as steady hands and solid ground. You
with a ukulele and a dog. Coffee and cayenne.
Cheap wine and expensive whiskey.
All that blue in your closet. You
as the perfect first date and
something soft to come home to.
Bad jokes and good intentions and all that—
Yes, light. Listen,
so, it’s late. Or the time of night
some people call morning.
It’s dark in the car, but you laugh—
I mean, really laugh. The kind that
catches you by surprise and crinkles up
the corners of your eyes—and it’s like
a camera flash in a windowless room.
It’s the best thing I’ve seen, all day.
Every morning, the sun has to relearn
how to outshine you. Sometimes
even she is not bright enough.
INVENTING NEW WAYS TO CALL YOU BEAUTIFUL by Ashe Vernon
I think the world got easier to understand once I realized that the night I found God, all dressed up in her Friday night best and eyes that glimmered like pennies in a wishing well, is also the night I met the devil; he was down on his luck and down on his knees, praying to fall back into God’s good graces again.
The heat between us drips and slides onto the floorboards of the two-seater. My breath smells like old, mint gum, and my lipstick has sank into the cracks of my lips. His hands grip at the leather of the driver’s seat, and his eyes dart back and forth between the road and the promise of what’s to come in my mine.
The Saturday night fever has reached its peak as the kids from the community college journey back to the land of sex and sleep. To be honest, there are many things I should of kept out of my mouth tonight, but, I’m glad I let the words dribble out my mouth and let loose into the air. I’m glad I drank cherry sprite instead of that lime-a-rita bullshit. I’m glad that this is a night I get to remember without associating it with the scent of vomit and cheap perfume.
When the water looks cool and inviting, don’t dive in head first.
You’ll get swept up in a current you weren’t expecting, and your body will be ripped apart by its beauty and strength.
Instead, look at it from a far. Let its cool and calm demeanor tantalize your imagination and captivate your sense of sight.
Not everything must be touched to be appreciated.
(But when that water seems choppy and volatile, throw yourself to its mercy. Touch until you’re both satisfied, until the drought in your mouth has been quenched.)
When I’m with you
the sky melts
into a scene
and the pressure
of last night’s
blunders and mishaps
When I’m with you
Summary: Through mysterious circumstances, you find yourself exchanging letters with a man who lived 70 years in the past.
Word Count: 1,404
A/N: I’m in love with this idea, and I hope you all like it. Thank you to the beautiful Bella for reading this over for me @thenightmarebeforebucky. And to my angel, Lyds, for always being there to plan things out with me @khaleesinarylfiel.
The last boxes were packed,
everything you had called your life neatly wrapped in cardboard, all of it
labeled, ready to be moved wherever you would call your next home. Giving a
soft sigh, you stood by the threshold of the apartment you had called your own
for the last five years and smiled. It was all bittersweet. Excited for
something new, you knew you were taking a step forward into your future, your
happiness. Yet you couldn’t help but to feel a little sad at leaving this tiny
place that had seen you cry, laugh, despair, and even fall in love with the man
you now called your fiancé.
Before you was what you had made
the common living room. It used to house your first set of furniture, the one
you had bought after saving for months, after sitting on lawn chairs you had
picked up from a yard sale when you had first moved into the city. But this
room was empty now, the light from the setting sun coming in through the window
and you could see the dust swirling through the air.
It’s that halfway point between being straight up jealous and not wanting to be and simply cause your personal life experience has taught you that sometimes people have a habit of moving on or simply growing tired of you. It’s distinguishing between them that’s hard to do.
The first foray back into canon AU for ages and it’s not mega long but long enough to put some under the cut. Ziam in New York.
Days pass by in a blur.
Liam’s lost count of how many people he’s hugged, how being on a private plane once upon a time was an exciting novelty but at the risk of being a complete pop star about it, it’s like getting on the 63 back home in Wolverhampton these days.
He’s so excited, even with all that’s along with it and that he doesn’t like to dwell on, Paddy sometimes tries to draw him out on it, sees the signs and sometimes he’ll try to draw it out with humour, other times with an arm flung around Liam’s shoulder.
Liam plays along like it works sometimes, and he and Paddy both know the truth but Paddy will ruffle his hair or give him that grin that conflicts with the concern in his eyes but he leaves it be.
Liam steals time, private time, where he can even if it’s five minutes, even if it’s two, even if he can only just say, “Hi, I miss you,” and even if there’s only enough time before the wheels go up for the response to be “Never as much as I miss you, babe”
They send each other selfies when they first wake up, and just before, in Liam’s case at least and he suspects it’s the same for Zayn, half-hearted attempts to sleep.
And he counts down the days. Each morning, he gets a text from Zayn with just a number on it, has done, every day since they last saw each other.
“I take it he sent you a zero this time,” Liam looks up and takes off his sunglasses and he can feel himself blushing, except he’s not embarrassed, not really and he shrugs at Paddy’s words, can’t stop the grin and Paddy returns it and this time there isn’t concern.
Liam’s vaguely aware of Charlie and Paddy ribbing him, but he doesn’t care, he just looks down at the phone screen and there’s never been a better sight.
Liam shuts the door behind him, it’s late, and his head’s spinning with praise and plans for his future.
He doesn’t care, he takes one more step, then another till he rounds a corner and there, right there, that’s what’s better than any zero.
Zayn’s holding onto the remote control, kind of. He’s got a pair of jogging bottoms on, and a hoodie, his hair’s still got the traces of green he promised he wouldn’t get rid of till he saw Liam again and the beard is growing again, his eyes are shut so just like all the times before, Liam’s distracted by the way each time he sees him, it’s like he’s grown a hundred more eyelashes, and his lips are slightly parted as he gently snores.
He almost doesn’t want to wake him, except that’s a total lie.
He strides across to the bed, and gently taps at Zayn’s feet and then folds his arms as Zayn murmurs and then shifts and then blinks his eyes open and looks up.
“Told you, you wouldn’t be able to stay awake,” Liam smiles as he says it and sits down on the bed, next to where Zayn shifts and spreads his arms out as he yawns then sleepily smiles and places his hands on Liam’s arm gently tugging him closer.
“No one likes a know it all you knob.”
Liam grins, responds with his middle finger before he allows himself to relax and he falls into Zayn’s side, it’s not ideal because he can’t fully see Zayn’s face and the reason it’s not ideal? Well, he’s spent too long imagining not taking his eyes off Zayn
He can make out the rise and fall of Zayn’s chest instead though and the way he keeps attempting to stifle his yawns, his eyes crinkling before Zayn makes a tutting sound.
“Didn’t your mum tell you it’s rude to stare?” As Zayn says it though, his eyes crinkle again, except this time it’s with a smile and Liam wants to see him fully now so he shifts once more, turns on his side, and rests his cheek on his palm and his elbow on the pillow and he does stare now.
Quietly he replies, “I think she’d get it, why I need to that is,” it hits him then, the weight of how long they’ve been apart, all he’s had to face and his shoulders sag and his gaze drops away from Zayn, till he’s staring at nothing but then fingertips gently scratch at his chin.
“Eh Li, what did we say?”
Liam could respond with what they’ve talked about, tried to talk about more like, he could talk about the times that conversations ended up with one of them hanging up, they could talk about planning what they’d do beyond all this, if there ever is a beyond all this because sometimes it’s hard to remember that there will be.
It’s late though, and he’s done with that, this time is too fleeting to be wasted on what’s around them, rather than what they have that can never be shifted so he lifts his eyes till they meet Zayn’s and he chews at his bottom lip and Zayn nods.
“Oh yeah, we talked about that too, take off the chains first and you’ve got a deal.”
Writing a Sunset: A Shitty How-to Manual for Writing Angst
Someone recently asked me the best way to write angst. Honestly, there is no best way. But I’ll do my darndest to explain what’s worked for me so far.
The best way to write angst is to write loss.
Now, I’ve seen this done so many ways before. I’ve seen death, I’ve seen destruction, I’ve seen cities burn and knives find their mark. With writers there’s an endless way to build and then knock down. Like lego bricks, you just have to find the best place to plant your foot for the entire structure to tumble down onto the carpet.
But my favorite kind of angst is actually something smaller.
My favorite is what I call “Writing a Sunset”.
A character is created. Someone that we all know and love. They’re build from the bone to the skin to every lash and every smile line. We watch them learn and grow and sink and fall and tower and realize and live. And I, as the author, make sure to give you every detail of her life until you can look at the page and want to reach in and steal their hand in yours.
I also make sure that this character loves sunsets.
It’s the most important time of day for them. That time when the earth is still and silent. That time when the warmth begins its slow travel past a seemingly infinite horizon. Thick in it’s colors, it sinks below and drowns, and in its panic it sends out flares of reds and oranges and pinks that shoot across the sky, burning holes into the atmosphere and letting the stars breathe.
And in that moment, when Orion is lounging against smothering blue and the tips of a nebula soak in the receding magma, this character owns their own world. All they have is the sky and all the sky has is itself and everything is perfect.
And it’s then that I make them blind.
There is something to say about taking away what a character cherishes most. Because in the end our families and our smallest loves are what keep us together. We crave things, it’s true. And material possessions help to find their places in our lives. Losing a grandmothers necklace could be sad and misplacing a treasure map leading to adventure could be devastating.
But I always found it best to not take away what someone loves. But to take away access to it. To know that every day there’s a sunset waiting for them same as always but no longer can they seek it out.
Don’t take away what someone loves.
Take away their hope of seeing it again.
If they’re a couple who want a child, take away that ability.
If he’s a dragon who needs to defend his keep, take away his fire.
If she’s a fairy who needs to fly, take away her wings.
But what I also find is that angst is not complete without hope. It’s pandoras box, really. And after sunsets, though it might seem dark, the dawn will eventually come.
And that’s where my favorite part comes in.
Taking away an ability doesn’t stop someone. It merely gives them a reason to try something else. And though it might seem bleak and hopeless, there’s always a chance. And that chance is sometimes the saddest and most joyful part of all.
When our character learns that by stretching their hands out and spreading their fingers like starfish to an aching sun, they can feel its first rays gliding though yearning fingers. Feel tears against their face and a smile stretching lines into permanence. Know that the darkness will always be there, but oh how the sunlight touches their skin…
If they can’t have children, have them adopt.
If the dragon can’t breathe fire, have it befriend the blacksmith.
And if she can no longer fly, then run until the wind burns her face and scars her feet and she feels free again.
Writing a Sunset is my favorite kind of angst because it’s the one we can relate to most. The fear of losing what we don’t realize we love and the need to reach out and tell them it’ll be okay. Writing a Sunset means having the will to accept a fate you had no choice in, and finding a new way to see once more.
Writing a Sunset reminds us all that sadness is real. But so is courage. And you can’t have one without the other.
Hi guys! Here’s the story I was really excited to share! I am exploring a new way of writing that’s a little challenging for me, so please tell me what you think! Also, I am LIVING through this character holy moly. Happy Saturday!
Things to know: Time Period: 1940′s Bucky, tiny Steve, Info: Reader and Bucky have mutual friend in Steve, but Reader and Bucky don’t really know each other too well….UNTIL NOW BOOM BABY
“Oh-ho-hooooooh-my-god, oh my god, Bucky Barnes just asked me to dance.”
Your friend, Maria, had just walked over to the corner table of the bar and whispered her news to you and Steve. Well, she tried to walk, but her excitement had her practically galloping over to you. And her whispering sounding more like breathy shouting as she waved her hands in the air like she was shaking off water at a sink.
As she rambled on about how she hoped her hair and lipstick were still in place and she smoothed down her already perfect dress with her dainty hands, your eyes floated over to Bucky Barnes. He had absolutely heard Maria’s little freak out based on the way his head hung to hide his proud grin that was probably more of a smirk.
“Well, go! Don’t keep him waiting!” you shooed her away playfully.
“Alright,” Maria said, smoothing down her dress once again. The second she turned to walk away, she spun around to you again and asked, “But, do I look-”
“You look absolutely beautiful, right Steve?” you interrupted her worries.
Steve suppressed his eye roll and smiled. “Yes. Go get ‘em, Maria.”
Maria nodded nervously, her hands glued to the soft fabric on her slim figure. She pivoted and spun on the toes of her new black heels and sashayed over to her dance partner. His soft, lopsided smile was the last thing you saw before you looked down and distracted yourself with the straw in your watered down coke.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Steve loosen his tie that looked a little too long for his small torso. He slid his chair away from the table and stuck his hand out to you. “You wanna go dance?” he asked.
You smiled at him, but wrinkled your nose. “Nah, s’okay. I think I’m gonna go grab another soda. You want anything?” you said, pointing your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the bar.
“Oh, come on,” he said and leaned in to you so you would hear him over the loud music. “I know we were both dragged here, but we could try to have some fun.”
He watched your features soften and your smile grow bigger than it had been all night. “You’re right, let’s go.” You took his hand and quickly kicked off your heels and left them under the table.
The band was roaring, the trumpets blared in your ears and the drums shook your core. You and Steve pretended to swing dance and laughed at your attempts that included unbalanced sugar twists, kicks, and spins.
You pulled Steve closer to you so you could shout in his ear, “We look ridiculous, but this is the most fun I’ve had all month!”
A laugh escaped him that you could hardly hear over the music. “I look ridiculous, but you look pretty good!” You read his lips before he spun you around one last time as the last chord of the song was played.
The whole dance floor spun to the platform that held up the band and applauded. The next song was a slow one, the sound of a saxophone singing the high pitches made your heart sink. You started to return to your table when Steve grabbed your hand.
“Hey, (Y/N), one more,” he said, suggesting another dance.
You nodded and placed your hand on his shoulder while he gently held your free hand. His quick surge of confidence ran away from him as he awkwardly placed his hand high on your waist and began rocking you back and forth. Your smile wasn’t as bright anymore, but Steve knew it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t miss how your eyes flickered over to Bucky and Maria.
After a verse of quiet dancing, Steve’s voice caught your attention. “You’re a good friend, (Y/N).”
You patted his shoulder. “Aw, shucks, Steve-o. You’re makin’ me blush,” you joked.
“Shut up,” he chided as he spun you around, making you giggle, catching the attention of some of the other dancers. You didn’t care though.
When you landed back facing him, he continued. “I mean it, (Y/N), there aren’t many people like you out there. Hell, you’re dancin’ around the dirty bar floor in your bare feet just so I won’t feel so short.”
You snorted and felt heat rise to your cheeks.
“Didn’t think I would notice?” Steve asked with raised eyebrows.
You shook your head, making him scoff. He rocked you back and forth as the music swelled, and when it lulled he said, “And you’re a good friend to Maria.”
“So are you, Steve,” you said, wondering where he was going with all this.
He sighed, like he was having trouble saying what he wanted to. Finally, he practically whispered to you, “I know you have feelings for Bucky, (Y/N), you don’t have to hide it from me.”
Your eyes narrowed and you shook your head. “Bucky Barnes? Steve, I hardly know the guy, I don’t like him-”
“You do. But you won’t even admit it to yourself because you know Maria has a crush on him now.” When you didn’t shoo him away, he continued. “But maybe Maria’s not the girl for him.”
“That doesn’t matter-”
“(Y/N), you know Maria, she’ll get over him and move on to somebody else in a week-”
“Don’t say that about her,” you hissed over the music.
“You know it’s true!” He didn’t try to hide how irritated he was.
The song had ended and the dancers were clapping as you yelled over them. “Just leave it alone, Steve!” you shouted and turned walked back to your table.
You slipped your shoes back on and wrung your napkin in your hands, trying to calm yourself down. Guilt began to pool in your stomach as you thought about how that wretched conversation started. You just screamed at Steve after he told you what a good friend you were.
Something thumped on the table in front of you and you looked up to see that Steve had replaced your warm coke with a fresh one.
“I’m sorry. I’m just watchin’ out for you and I poked my nose too far in your business,” he said with a sip through his straw.
“S’okay,” you said with a mock pout that quickly turned into a grin.
“Just don’t count yourself out so soon, okay?”
You sipped your soda and shook your head, making Steve roll his eyes. “Stubborn,” he mumbled, and you laughed.
By the time you and Steve finished your sodas the band was halfway through their last song of the night. You gathered your things just in time to applaud the band after the loud swing tune. Maria met you and Steve by the door and as you walked out, she gave you all the details of her night.
“He’s such a great dancer, (Y/N)!”
“I saw you guys! It looked like you were having a great time.” You smiled, genuinely happy that your friend had a nice night.
“It was such a great time. And, hey, I saw you got Steve up on the dance floor, nice goin’!” She added.
“Actually, it was Steve-o here who dragged me up there,” you giggled and cocked your brow. You linked your arm in Steve’s after he growled and patted his arm.
“Wow, Steve look at you being-”
“Oh shoot!” you interrupted her. “I left my shawl on my chair in the bar. My sister’s gonna kill me if I don’t give it back to her in the morning.”
“We can go back,” Steve shrugged.
“Nah, I’ll just go. I’ll meet you guys in a minute,” you waved and started back in the direction you came from, the bright light of the bars and convenience stores lighting your way.
When you walked through the doors of the club, only the janitor remained with the band members who were packing up their instruments. You quickly walked over to the table where you and Steve had been sitting for most of the night, but when you arrived, your sweater wasn’t there. You frantically leaned down to look under the table, hoping you had simply dropped it and not lost it.
There was nothing under the table but crumbs and a napkin, which you picked up and tossed next to the coke you had been drinking. Just as dread plagued your stomach, you heard someone say your name.
“Hey (Y/N), this is yours, isn’t it?”
You looked up to the door of the bar to see Bucky Barnes holding out your shawl. His cheeks were flushed and his chest rising and falling faster than normal. “I saw it sitting here and ran to find Steve, but he said you had already come back for it.”
You swallowed thickly and walked over to him, nodding your head. “Yeah, it’s mine. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. Before you could take the sweater from him, he was hanging it on your shoulders and ushering you out the door. “Let’s get you home, huh? It’s late.”
“Oh, that’s okay, Steve and Maria are waiting for me about a block down,” you excused, propping your hair behind your ears and glancing at the sidewalk.
“I told them to go ahead, that I’d walk you home,” he cleared his throat. “Is that okay?”
You nodded quickly, which probably looked more like a neck spasm because of your nerves.
After a few silent steps, Bucky shifted his gaze from the ground to you and asked if you had a good time.
“Yeah, I did. What about you?” You returned.
“Yeah, I had a nice time. S’a good band, ya know?”
He swung his arms as he walked, but you felt yourself moseying along as stiff as a board.
“Ya know what’s funny?”
“What?” you asked, looking up at him for the first time since you left the bar.
“You and I are both such good friends with Steve, but we never see each other. We don’t spend any time together.”
You hummed in agreement.
“In fact, I think this is the first time you and I have said more than three words to each other,” he said.
You laughed and felt your shoulders relax a bit. “Yeah, I think it is.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and easy.
“I saw you two dancing out there tonight, looked like fun,” Bucky said.
“Yeah, he dragged me out there, but I had a great time,” you said fondly.
“Really?” he asked. “I thought it would have been the other way around.”
“Maria said that too,” you laughed, pointing a finger at the coincidence.
He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of Steve asking a pretty girl to dance.”
You tried to ignore the compliment, but your efforts were useless. You looked at the marquees hanging on the buildings beside you to hide your red cheeks. “We’re good friends, that’s all.”
“I know,” he nodded his head, suddenly serious. “I’ve never seen him open up to someone the way he does with you. It’s nice to see.”
When you glanced his way, you saw his bright blue eyes already on you. You hummed in agreement. “He’s a wonderful friend to me. He babies me too much, but hey-” your own laugh cut you off as you shrugged.
Bucky chuckled with you. “Well, he cares a lot about you.” You didn’t miss him lick his lips. “I feel like I know you inside and out from the way he talks about you all the time.”
“I could say the same thing about you,” you teased.
“Oh, boy.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Hopefully, you only hear the nice stories,” he said, which made you giggle.
“Don’t worry,” you reassured him. “Steve shines the brightest light on you.” You caught his lopsided grin before he turned his head away from you. Was he blushing?
As you came up to your apartment, you said to Bucky, “I’m glad Steve has you. He needs a guy friend,” you said with a crinkled nose. “Someone to keep him up to date on the Dodgers.”
That made him laugh.
He followed you up the stairs to the front door. When you reached the landing and turned to face him he said, “And I’m glad Steve has you. Someone to dance with.” He winked when you chuckled.
His eyes flickered from you to the ground and his tongue shot out to graze over his pink lips again. “Maybe I can steal you from him sometime.”
His suggestion made you stand a little straighter and a smirk played on your lips. “You’ll have to take that up with Steve.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and pushed down until you thought the seams would rip right then. “I will,” he said with a nod.
His eyes stared into yours until you felt your cheeks turn pink at the contact. You pushed your hair behind your ear and thanked him for walking you home.
You turned around and opened the door, but before you could step inside, the urgency in his voice stopped you, like he forgot something. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”
“Goodnight, Bucky.” You smiled at him one last time, stepped inside and closed the door behind you. In the dark, you leaned against the door and took a shaky breath, afraid your legs would give out.
Steve was right. You shouldn’t have counted yourself out so early in the game.
But what if Betty was new to town and she was a lone wolf just like Jughead? Can these two come together to help fix the damage done onto them by others?
It was…. different.
The town was small. it was small and it was quiet, very different to the busy Harlem streets she was used to, it unnerved her. Nothing was supposed to be this perfect, she had learned perfection always came with a cost. What was the cost exactly? Well …she was gonna find out.
Her father had always said “mystery calls to you Elizabeth Cooper, you can either choose to answer it or leave it ringing.” Smiling at the thought of her father, she shifted the suitcase in her hands. He had been a good man, Loved her more than anything, and would do anything for his family. Which he did.
“Elizabeth?” She looked up at the sound of her mothers voice, she had a questioning look on her face and reached out to place a palm to her forehead “are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”
Betty shook her mothers hand off
“I’m fine, just thinking.”
Her mother never pressed her, she had learned that the hard way a while back, it wasn’t wise to question Betty, it would just set her back and she would lose it. Sure maybe it was immature but she figured she deserved a little leniancy.
“Were here.” The beautifully put together blonde woman smiled at her equally beautiful daughter.
The house was huge, it was massive. Her eyes instantly zeroed in on the room up top with the bay window. She felt a hand being placed on her arm “you can have that room.” She smiled gratefully to her mom. Taking a deep breathe, she steeled her shoulders and gripped her suitcase
“Well, what are we waiting for?Ready to enter the belly of the beast?”
Rolling her eyes and smiling, Alice cooper led Betty through the doors. Looking around Betty felt herself smile for the first time in hours. The walls were a dreamy white and the furniture was rustic and beautiful, everything was simple and clean. It was perfect.
“Now I know, it’s very big for just the two of us, but you’re father wanted us to have it. We were all going to move in here together.. it’s what… I” choking up Alice took a deep breathe and excused herself, Betty knew that meant she needed to cry. Feeling the guilt rip her stomach, Betty ran up the stairs to look at her new room.
It was huge and roomy, painted a light yellow, her favorite color. She closed her eyes and angled her head to the sky, swallowing a lump in her throat. He knew she would’ve wanted this room, he painted it for her, her drawings and paintings were hung on the wall in beautiful frames. Thank you dad.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she started unpacking her suitcase. She only had one suitcase for all of her things, they didn’t have much back home, all of her dresses and shoes fit into the one large rolling bag.
Suddenly she heard music from outside her window, her curiosity peaking, she looked through the shifty curtains. It was two boys, a redheaded one was facing her playing a guitar in the house directly across from hers and a dark haired boy facing away, all she could make out was the gray beanie. Great her neighbors were boys her age, she just knew her mother was going to want to introduce them. Suddenly the music stopped and the boys looked to be packing up, getting ready to go out she assumed.
As she continued unpacking, she pulled out her sketch book and pencils with an unenthused “ta da.” Gripping the book to her chest, she made her way downstairs.
“Mom I’m going out to explore, I’ll be home in a few hours.” She called Into the living room.
“Okay honey, try and make some friends!”
She rolled her eyes uttering,“ no promises” before she shut the front door.
Where should she go? What did people do around her?
After about twenty minutes of wandering she came across an old fashioned diner. Perfect. She could shack up in a back booth and work on some of her drawings.
As soon as she entered the diner, she spotted a familiar beanie. It was the boy next door. And he was…
Staring at her. Hard.
Choosing to ignore his gaze, she moved to the booth diagonal to his, he was typing on a laptop, a coffee by his side and his sleeves rolled up.
He really was quite attractive, his wavy long hair underneath that ridiculous hat, the piercing blue eyes she felt staring into her shoulder, and the absolutely sinful Lips.
Okay Betty, get a grip. She smiled to herself shaking her head slightly and moving back to her sketches.
Meanwhile Jughead was struggling to control his straying thoughts. Never had a girl stolen his attention like this, sure she was beautiful, actually she was absolutely gorgeous. All silky blonde hair, long tan legs and bright green eyes, but there was something else, something about her made it impossible to look away. She was the type of girl you write stories about, fortunately for him, he wrote stories more than he breathed.
Suddenly archie was sliding into the booth across from him “check out the new girl, she is something to look at right? I’m pretty sure she’s my new neighbor. The coopers. It’s just her and her mom.” Coincidentally the smell of gossip brought the one and only Veronica lodge to his once comfortably secluded booth.
“Total smoke show for sure. But rumor has it her dad was murdered in front of her. My sources tell me that’s why they moved here.” Veronica looked over to the blonde frowning. “Poor thing.”
Jughead hated rumors, they pissed him off, especially about the girl he felt an unexplainable connection with. “How do you even know anything about her Veronica? She moved here this morning, don’t go spreading rumors until you get it from the actual source. That girl.” He said with a nudge of his head.
Veronica was unphased by his icy tone, raising a brow “so that’s your type hmm? Well let’s go chat her up, shall we?” She stood and wiped her skirt as Jughead desperately tried to get her to stay
“Veronica! No! Leave her alone” he whispered panicked.
“Oh relax jugs, I’m just going to be polite.” And she was gone, already halfway to The beautiful blonde.
Both of the boys at the table watched as Veronica spoke to the mysterious new girl. About two minutes later she came back to the table smiling
Archie looked at her expectantly “so?”
She just smiled again “I asked her to come sit with us and she pretty much shot me down. No. not pretty much. She definitely shut me down.”
Jughead looked confused “and that’s making you smile because..?”
Veronica laughed “she’s awesome, totally reminds me of you Jughead, except for the fact that she seems like she’s totally cool, no offense. She said she preferred to work on her art alone, people were a distraction, but when she finished her sketches , she would come join us.”
Jughead glanced over at her again. He was the exact same way, whenever he was writing something new he had to have complete focus and silence.
After two burgers and four chapters, he felt a shift at the table. Looking up expecting to see Archie, he started speaking
“Dude, I don’t think…” his eyes caught on the beautiful bright green ones staring back at him and giggling.
“I haven’t been called dude in a very long time, I mean I’ll take it, but most people call me Betty.” She gently placed her sketch book on the table and jughead resisted the urge to grab it and flip through the pages.
Apparently he could no longer speak, that ability was now gone from his life.
She seemed to take his silence as a bad thing, and quickly started playing with her fingers
“Your friend.. Veronica? I think it was. She invited me to come sit, I totally understand if you’re busy, do you write?”
The simple question seemed to Knock him out of his stupor. “Uh.. yes. I write stories, I’m currently working on one regarding riverdales secrets.” He mumbled out
Her eyes lit up and she leaned over the table slightly “I’ve been wondering about all the things This little town has to hide. Can I read it when you’re done. I’m always down for a mystery.”
He smiled at her enthusiasm
“I’ll let you read it, if you let me look at your drawings” he said confidently.
She placed an open palm over her notebook and stuck her free hand out, wiggling her finger tips
“You got a deal….?”
“Jughead. Jughead jones.” He prepared himself for the ridicule that always came with his first name. But she just smiled warmly
“You got a deal Jughead jones”
As soon as their hands touched, he felt an unfamiliar tingle, no way , this was not some teen romance, this was riverdale. This was him.
He looked into her eyes to see if she felt it as well, sure enough she was staring at their joined hands wide eyed.
“Well look who’s getting all cozy. I told you Jughead, she’s just like you. Only cooler.”
Kevin, Veronica and Archie were all standing over the diner table and smiling at the pair, pulling his hand away he whispered for only Betty to hear
Now that I have more time, I want to talk about the new rumors and news that recently came out about the third season of Sense8. The other day a rumor was started in regards to the third season due to an interview with an executive producer who worked on the show - this rumor was a bit malicious.
The rumor determined that the series has been a huge investment for Netflix - especially the second season, which doubled compared to the first season’s expense at $ 9 million per episode - and that the audiences were not as good as other Netflix series - Jessica Jones, OITNB, Strangers Things - which also have big budgets.
It is also rumored that SOME of the protagonists of the series have not signed the new contract yet and that the absence of Lilly Wachowski affected the production because Lana was alone with the project.
Okay, this is all garbage.
JMS is one of the creators of the series so Lana is not alone - He said on twitter that nothing is known at this point, but said ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about the series renewal. It must be clarified that this rumor has been given by an EXECUTIVE PRODUCER of the series and that this can not be certain after only a few days since the premiere. And on the other hand, NETFLIX is who will make the decision on the subject anyways, not a producer as JMS has said:
Everything is uncertain at this point, and there are many factors that we did not consider before. Netflix expanded to Asia in 2016, and many viewers have recently watched season 1 of Sense8, which will create new viewers in Asia. The same effect can happen for all those new / old global subscribers - which increased to almost twice as much since the first season premiered in 2015.
On the other hand, it is possible that some actors have not signed the new agreement for several reasons. [Not confirmed 100%] We could know that Jamie, Tina, Toby and Miguel Angel all came together at the end of February to extended their contracts until June - So in June they will need to sign on for the new season if the second is a success. Brian, Max, Tuppence and Doona were not at that meeting.
But Max was at the Berlin headquarters at the time, doing press for Sense8 and another project - and perhaps signing the agreement as well.
The same could go for Doona - she could have signed at the Netflix headquarters in Asia. And we know she loves working with the Wachowski and has been training a lot in the gym - which is a good sign. It is true that we know nothing of Brian or Tuppence yet, but Brian recently said on twitter that he would be happy to do 20 seasons because he never wants it to end - so you can assume that he has signed on as well. Only Tuppence remains as the outstanding cast member, but she has been working hard and perhaps the lack of time has been a problem to be able to sign.
Personally I think that both during the shoot, and ever since production wrapped, that all of them have shown an extreme amount of love for the show. Everyone is fascinated with the project and I do not think any of them have any problems with renewing.
So what are the drawbacks? Time, for example. For instance, Miguel Angel had to ask for time off during production to return to Spain and record Velvet in it’s second season. They gave it to him without problem and adapted to his schedule. Doona also had to take some time off to do some work for Louis Vuitton. Another problem would be money, but I honestly do not think there are problems with that issue and they will come to an agreement if there is one. - So I think the subject of SCHEDULING is something that takes time to figure out, since they have to take into account so many things like nudity, action scenes, project time, recording time to combine with other projects, etc … Everything is still being decided.
About the rumor that the THIRD SEASON will be the last one is also LIE. The producer from this interview - who I think seems a little silly - speaks from his personal opinion as if it were a confirmed truth. JMS has said that has never determined the duration of a series before - That is, if they make the third season the last, he will make a final adaptation as the last season. The executive producer in the interview never even determined that they were five seasons planned, which JMS has said repeatedly. This tells us a lot, especially since the end of the second season left on a cliffhanger, we can assume that Netflix wants more Sense8.
It is true that Lana did not have her sister during Season 2, but we know from Miguel that Lilly has been very involved in the project and has supported Lana even though she has not participated in it. The reason she took time off in the first place was to go through her transition after she came out as a
transgender woman. Her absence probably won’t be permanent, and she may come back for the possible renewal. Besides, Lana loves the series, the characters and her work, so I do not think that LANA was a reason for the third season to be the rumored last. By the way, LANA IS WRITING the new season - possibly finishing writing - which is fantastic news.
Now about the show’s RATINGS, I have been doing calculations. All are mere theoretical facts based on instagram accounts, followers and comparison with other series - Game of Thrones, Orange Is The New Black or House of Cards. I’ve had a lot of data taken into account to get these numbers, but I REPEAT, it’s all THEORY.
Based on different data, Sense8 has an average of 3.2 million viewers in the US per episode - and added 6.4% subscribers to Netflix. With this percentage I have added the rest of countries giving me a total of: 5 million viewers globally per episode - without regard to ASIA, since there is no exact data on this territory yet. So maybe we could be talking between 5.5 or 10 million viewers. Are they bad figures? Well since Jessica Jones has 4.8 million viewers per episode in the US, then this is not bad at all. Not the best, but not bad either.
All of this is a mere theoretical study. You have to take into account the data that I do not even have access to; like the opinions of each region, exact number of subscribers, advertising, improved product visualization, etc. … A prime example of what I’m talking about is in regards to MASTER OF NONE. In spite of the fact that in Spain it had a bad review - or had (the stars on Netflix disappeared) - it was still renewed. In the US it has been seen by 3.9 million people per episode and is considered a success. This shows that in each country a certain show works differently, In Brazil with fewer subscribers there are more viewings of Sense8 than the US.
On the other hand, Netflix releases all of the episodes at once, but this does not mean that everyone watches all of them at the same time. There are some people who take months to watch a series. A good example of that is the fourth season of OITNB. In its first month in the US it was only seen by 664 thousand people, yet now it is supposed to be one of the most watched series on Netflix.
To add onto the list of potential problems, THE DUBBED VOICES could be one. In Spain there is a protest going on at the moment, and the series is not being completely understood because the dubbing is in LATIN AMERICAN and not in SPANISH (Castillan). This is probably the main reason why the Spaniards will have to wait until the protests cease.
Finally, I do not like the idea that NETFLIX does not promote Sense8 as it does with other series. I don’t know why this happens. Maybe Sense8 takes care of its own advertising.
This budget is also influenced by the income of product placement. This is a form of advertising, where a brand appears incognito in the series as part of the plot. Examples: Fuchs team is Nike or Joong-Ki’s car is a Mercedes or the kind of Whiskey that Felix drinks. - That type of advertising is sometimes based on giving the product out for free, or at a lower price. There are even brands that pay for them to appear in the show. Sense8 has many expenses, but a lot of them are covered by this kind of advertising.
How about the renewal? For me all of the factors involved indicate that yes, we will have a third season. But we will probably have to wait a couple of months to find out. This month will be the observation of social media & reviews, in June the agreements and presentation of the project will be discussed, and in July we should get the official statement. Netflix has acted like this for other series as well, and I think this will not be the exception.
Wishing my absolutely adored @sugarplum-senpai the happiest of birthdays - again ;D I happen to actually be RIIIIGHT on time in my timezone, somehow. Thank you for being so loving, kind and inspiring everyday. This is for you~
The sun shone brightly above them, its
light glistening across the dark waters crashing against the shores down below,
and the air had absolutely no business being this cold.
The wind had been less aggressive
back at the settlement. Seeing the clear skies so early in the morning, he’d
thought – naively, in hindsight – that the temperatures would climb as they’d
ride to the northern coast. Waiting under the sun should have been… Possibly
not comfortable, but certainly not