#November writings

[luna-writes-stuff]

Jackie and Wilson, Pedro Pascal

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Meet-cute, fluff

Word count: 3168

Tw: I hate this fic haha, but enjoy anyway. Also, you’re a bartender now so obvious mentions of alcohol. Paparazzi, slight anxiety, mutual pining. Making fun of paparazzi? That’s it?

Summary: You work in a local bar when the building is suddenly surrounded with paparazzi. You knew why they were there - you had already served him two drinks. However, instead of throwing him out, you got talking with him. And after a day of keeping up appearances and minding rules, you are an incredibly comfortable distraction to him.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“So tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes. No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight. So deep in this swill with the most familiar of swine. For reasons wretched and divine.”

When a career finally takes off, it could offer one more than they bargained for. Take a wealthy lawyer, who bathes in money, but wallows in sunken dignity and dishonesty - or a proclaimed doctor, who performs surgeries and saves lives like no other, but returns home with dreadful stories of the day and baggage they wish they could have left at the hospital.

When an actor’s career begins to take off, they will gain fame. A fandom is built, money flows in, your name can be seen on billboards; it seems as if you are on the top of the world. But with that also comes the need to constantly watch what you say or what you do. Be professional during interviews, don’t spend too much time taking pictures with fans on a red carpet, don’t go out too much or the restaurant might have to close because it can’t handle its guests’ capacity.

It could bring stability, financial safety, a feeling of satisfaction - the ability to take care of those who you love and spoil them unconditionally. But regardless of how often stars will tell you that the famous life can be miserable, most fail to correctly grasp this concept.

You weren’t famous by any means. You worked in a local bar, serving local drunks and local students. So, when a crowd of people began to gather in front of your windows, taking pictures with obnoxious flashes with no apparent respect, you had been taken aback. After multiple warnings and questions for privacy, your boss had finally called the police to clear the situation. Then, after two hours, it was finally somewhat quiet again.

“She blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild. Laughing away through my feeble disguise. No other version of me I would rather be tonight. And, Lord, she found me just in time.”

However surprised, you were not stupid. You knew why they were here, or - more specifically- for who. You had served him two drinks at the bar before he retreated to the table in the far corner of the room, further away from the windows. He didn’t even have to say his name before you put the drinks on his tab. You didn’t hide the fact that you knew him, but he was a customer. You were not going to hinder his privacy or dignity if you could help it. Not during work hours, not after work hours. Which brought you back to the point that it was company policy that a customer on tap had to order at least one drink every thirty minutes, or they had to make room for new customers.

And thus, with the crowd finally cleared, you made your usual round of the room, taking orders and offering people their drinks. When you finally arrived at his table, you grabbed his empty glass, immediately drawing his attention to you. “Can I get you anything else?” A polite smile was shot from him as he nodded briefly, then turning back to his phone. As you grabbed a pen, you tried to strike up a casual conversation, not even thinking about your words until they were spoken: “If you don’t mind me asking, what brings you all the way here?”

Shocked at your own words, you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, remembering his line of work and his reputation. “And if you do mind me asking, just tell me it’s work.” You quickly added, now grabbing the notepad as well. Pedro only chuckled at that, putting his phone on the table as he looked back at you: “I don’t mind you asking,” he answered. “But it is work.”

Raising your eyebrows, you nodded at him with a relieved smile. “Lucky guess.”

“'Cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done. I need to be youthfully felt 'cause, God, I never felt young.”

Seemingly pondering his next words, he spoke before you could begin your next sentence, a gentle expression on his face. “The place I’m staying at had cameras on me at every angle. Figured I’d have a little more privacy in a downtown bar.” You pursed your lips at that, nodding sarcastically: “Ah yes, that worked great.”

Again, you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head as you tried to correct yourself. “I’m sorry.” But instead of a stupid remark or an uncomfortable silence, you heard his laugh followed by a dismissive wave. “No, you’re fine.”

His eyes fell upon the pad before you, unseemingly changing the subject: “I’ll have another cola.” Observing his smiles and laughs made some part of confidence grow within you. All night he had ordered nothing but cola, and where you would usually tease your customers for it, you found yourself somewhat withdrawn with him.

You didn’t know if it was because of his entire reputation or simply the way he looked at you, but you were hesitant to speak your next words. But when he continued to gently smile at you, you couldn’t resist the light tease: “It comes with a lemon. You sure you can handle that?”

“She's gonna save me, call me "baby" Run her hands through my hair. She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily. Better yet, she wouldn't care.”

You didn’t know it then, but that simple remark had made him feel incredibly at ease. A day filled with formal greetings and the constant need to make himself look presentable faded the second you teased him over ordering another cola. He didn’t even have time to comment on your words, your figure already making its way back to the bar.

It was your coworker who later arrived at his table with his drink. When he couldn’t see you behind the bar, he stood up, grabbing his stuff as he made way to the long counter. He had sat down on one of the chairs, trying to subtle glance around the room trying to catch any glimpse of you.

You walked back into the building a handful of minutes later, announcing your break to be over. That had explained why he couldn’t see you. Your face lit up slightly as you noticed that he changed his seating, now in front of you as you would work. In a way, it didn’t seem distracting nor unwanted. If anything, part of it felt comfortable.

“We'll steal her Lexus, be detectives, Ride 'round picking up clues. We'll name our children, Jackie and Wilson. Raise 'em on rhythm and blues.”

“Corner got lonely?” You asked, hanging your jacket up behind you before turning around, facing him from the other side of the bar. “Music’s better here.” He countered, pointing to the box above the doorway. You followed his gaze, rolling your eyes jokingly as you spotted the equipment.

“Here I thought you were beginning to like me.” You quipped, grabbing a glass as you began to clean it. He watched you work, unsure if he should interrupt or not. “You lied,” he suddenly said, gaining your attention. His hand raised slightly, the cola clutched tight in his fingers. “It doesn’t come with a lemon.”

You grinned at him, reaching for a slice of lemon before handing it to him. “I did promise.” You agreed, returning to your work as he grabbed the slice from your hand. Once more, a silence fell over the two of you.

“Lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime. Me and my Isis growing black irises in the sunshine. Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside. We'd sit back and watch the world go by.”

“You from around here?” He asked, trying to fill the silence. You shrugged at him, knowing it was no good idea to announce your address in a public space. But a vague idea could never hurt: “Ten minute drive,” you revealed. “Why?”

Toying with the straw in his drink as he pushed the lemon down, the man revealed: “I was wondering what there was to do around here. It’s gonna be at least two more days.”

You scoffed at that, finding pity in the fact that he of all people got stranded in a town not widely known for its publicity, media, or events. Yet, a world famous star was sitting in front of you, and you were about to announce that there was nothing to do here.

“Light shopping?” You tried to promote, referring to your local stores and perhaps three big brands. “Maybe the cinema plays a good film, but that’s about all you’ll find here.” Placing the glass back on its original place, you spun around with a dramatic gesture of your hand. “You’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, my good sir.” Humming lightly, you spoke the hooking cords of the infamous Eagles song: “Welcome to the Hotel California.”

“Happy to lie back watch it burn and rust. We tried the world, good God, it wasn't for us.”

Pedro shook his head in entertainment, earlier anxiety slowly settling down as the nerves left his system. Being around someone who was somewhat nonchalant about him made him feel relaxed in some sort of unusual manner. It wasn’t unwelcomed, though.

“Any good restaurants?” He continued, his interest growing as he tried to build up to next questions. You remained oblivious to his intentions though, and happily answered him: “Like a handful. There’s not much here.” When he failed to respond to that, you grabbed a post-it, already jotting down some names. “I could give you a small list of recommendations.”

He simply hummed in reassurance, peeking over the bar to look at what you were writing down. He could not help but feel slight disappointment as he found out you were indeed writing down names of places that sounded a lot like restaurants and cafes. So, maybe flirting hadn’t been his strong suit, but he was steadfast if he was anything. He just leaned back, leaving you to finish your writing.

“She's gonna save me, call me "baby", Run her hands through my hair. She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily. Better yet, she wouldn't care.”

When you handed him the note, he pretended to read the names, asking you a question while his eyes remained on the paper: “What’s your favourite place? One you can really recommend?”

Instead of a genuine answer, what he had expected, you laughed instead. When he looked at you, he noted the way your expression had also found slight humour in his earlier words. “Way out of my budget,” you chuckled. “Went there once for a birthday.” Then, you looked at him, shrugging as you remembered what he did in life. “Might be your alley, though. And otherwise, the local cafeteria serves amazing fries.” You put the emphasis on amazing, almost imagining the dish in front of you now. You could go for some good fries.

“Could you show me where?” His voice tore you from your thoughts, forcing you back to the bar, his eyes gentle. Instinctively, you reached for the paper, ready to start writing again: “I’ll write the address down.”

“We'll steal her Lexus, be detectives, Ride 'round picking up clues. We'll name our children, Jackie and Wilson. Raise 'em on rhythm and blues.”

You didn’t see the slight defeat in his eyes as you mindlessly grabbed your phone and started looking up addresses. If you had, you wouldn’t have even taken the card to begin with. You would have decided to tease him back on it. But you hadn’t seen it.

In his eyes, it felt like another let down. Either he was being too low-key, you were being too oblivious, or this was your way of letting him down easy. You did stand behind a bar all night. He wouldn’t be the first, nor would he be the last to try to make a move. You must have mastered turning down flirting attempts during that time.

When your eyes finally rose, you did see the way his eyebrows had furrowed slightly, or how that friendly smile had lightly faded. When he noticed you were looking at him, he gave you a questioning look. Not one of curiosity, but as if he was asking you if you had understood him or not.

“Oh.” You sighed, ultimately catching onto his meaning. Your heart skipped a beat when he didn’t try to defend himself. He had been genuine. You could almost curse yourself for not having paid more attention.

“Cut clean from the dream at night, let my mind reset. Looking up from a cigarette, and she's already left.”

“If you would be okay with that.” He added, his voice more hushed than before, almost as if you had already rejected him. At that, a feather light feeling entered your stomach, the ability to form words finally coming back to you: “The cafeteria or…” you trailed off, unsure of where he wanted to go.

At your words, that same smile climbed back, neither of you missing the slight and - unsuccessfully - suppressed sigh of relief. “Your favourite place.” He cleared up.

You nodded at him, handing him the post-it, now filled with tiny scribbles of street names. “Cafeteria it is.” You decided.

“You sure?” He asked, putting the note in his pocket, his full attention now on you. You hummed in affirmation, waving your hand off in the distance. “I can’t afford that restaurant.” You shared, but interrupted him as he went to speak. “And I am not going to let you pay for everything.”

Though he wanted to, he hadn’t argued with it that night. Nor did he the night after, or the night after that. It wasn’t until you officially started going out, that you allowed him to lay for your dinner every so often.

“I start digging up the yard for what's left of me and our little vignette. For whatever poor soul is coming next.”

And now, three years later, you were seated in that exact same cafeteria you had dined in back when you first met. When your boss had to call the cops in order to get the paparazzi to leave. It was insane to consider you had not become used to them, even if that was not a fond thing.

To him, you felt like a moment of pure nothingness; he didn’t have to pretend or hold up to any expectations. There was nothing he needed to say or needed to hear. As insane as it might have sounded to him, he simply felt like a normal person around you again. As if he had never become famous, and never played in award-nominated shows and films. And that was why he had initially fallen for you. It was because of your calming demeanour. And none of that had changed through the years.

“They’re not making it subtle, are they?” You joked, as you watched a man with his long lens camera with flash on sitting on a terrace on the opposite side of you. Fries were stuffed in your mouth as Pedro was munching away on some greasy burger. Opening your mouth in an undignified manner, you turned to the camera, flipping them off, before returning to your meal.

Pedro laughed at you, holding his hand in front of his eyes as he tried to hide himself. Grabbing the straw from your drink and the straw of his own drink, he fumbled with them for a while, before turning to look at the camera, the straws now dangling from his teeth like some sort of vampire with a new set of pearls. You snorted at the sight, banging your fist on the table as you held your hand in front of his face, pulling the straws from his mouth: “Now it has your gross bacteria all over it.” “Ew,” he returned in a high pitched voice, mocking your speech.

“She's gonna save me, call me "baby", Run her hands through my hair. She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily. Better yet, she wouldn't care.”

“This is how you get cooties,” you laughed, pointing the straw at his face in an accusing manner. “Disgusting,” Pedro agreed with a grin, pulling the straw from your fingers. Then, he stuck them in his drink, ignoring your betrayed looks. “Asshole,” you scolded with a chuckle

“You know, about three years ago, we sat right there?” His finger pointed to the bar at the end of the street where you used to work. Having now been together for more than two years, you quit your job soon after, noticing the publicity wasn’t working for your job. It wasn’t helping the bar and it wasn’t helping you. You remembered how guilty Pedro had felt when you told him, even after you had reassured him how you knew this going into the relationship. It was all the more reason for him to spoil you even more now.

“I think we caused the manager to grow grey hair prematurely,” you confessed, forcing another chuckle out of his throat. “That may have been my fault.” He added. “I walked into that bar to get a moment of peace. And that’s where I found you.”

“We'll steal her Lexus, be detectives, Ride 'round picking up clues.”

You smiled at him, fondly remembering that moment. “You could have had any model or superstar, and you choose someone who catered to local drunks.” “An important job,” Pedro added in a joking voice. You joined him: “I’m sure there are some who would agree with you on that.”

From over the table, his hand found yours, squeezing it fondly. “I don’t think I would want any model or superstar now that I know what I could have missed.” “Sap.” You interrupted, yet you returned his affectionate gesture all the same, silently letting him know you were appreciative of his words.

“I’m glad you walked in too,” you admitted. “Even though I had no idea what to say to you.” “You said the right thing,” he assured. “Besides, who else would I bully paparazzi with?” As he said that, he waved to the man with the camera with an unenthusiastic expression.

And moments like these were a perfect depiction to him why it was you and would always be you. Even with cameras on him and his privacy being scarce, you remained beside him, taking it upon yourself to mess the pictures, sometimes marking them unpublishable due to certain symbols being made on them. You were his distraction and his moment of solitude. Perhaps he would have found it in anyone else, but he had no desire to figure that out. You were with him now, and he would hold onto that for as long as he could.

“We'll name our children, Jackie and Wilson. Raise 'em on rhythm and blues.”

[fardell24b]

14th November 2023 Writings

14th

Excerpt from: Changes in the Archipelago

“Not yet?” Snotlout asked.

“We haven’t had a closer look yet,” Astrid responded.

“Then why are we wasting time?” Snotlout asked.

“We’re not,” Hiccup said. “I wanted to round up everyone.”

“Right…”

Soon all of them were flying out to the ship.

“If is from Miklagard, we can totally take it,” Snotlout declared.

“No, we can’t,” Fishlegs objected.

“It would be foolhardy.”

Words: 62

Excerpt from: Lady Me’s Quandry

“Not Britain, nor the 20th or 21st Centuries,” she said to the TARDIS as she set a random course.

The TARDIS gave a sound as if she agreed with her. She then set the ship in motion.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive somewhere. “Let’s see,” Lady Me murmured as she switched on the Scanner.

Indeed, it wasn’t Britain, nor the 20th or 21st Centuries. “Faroe Islands, 19th Century,” she mused. It wasn’t very far off at all. She suspected that if she tried again, it would still be somewhere in Western Europe in the later part of the Second Millennium. Therefore she emerged from the ship into the dimly lit streets of Torshavn. Nothing looked to be out of the ordinary. ‘But then at this time I was already hiding out on the Street.’

Something soon happened.

Words: 140

Excerpt from: Spider Quinn

“Right…” Quinn considered. She also considered just quitting the Fashion Club and telling Sandi to leave. What Daria had said in Freemont about them solving crime together flashed through her mind. ‘Not yet, give her a chance.’ She breathed deeply, and pulled down the turtleneck, showing her, along with Stacy and Tiffany, the zit.

“Oh, I see,” Sandi said.

“So, I had to hide it,” Quinn said.

“Of course,” Sandi said.

“Quinn, I'm so happy you're still one of us,” Stacy said.

“Gosh, Stacy, what did you think?” Quinn asked.

“Really,” Tiffany added.

“Quinn's right, Stacy. Just because she was acting completely weird and not confiding in her dearest, most loyal friends is no reason to decide she'd finally given up her sad charade and revealed herself as a two-faced, little…” Sandi trailed off as Quinn gave an intense glare.

‘How long?’ Quinn wondered, again.

“Meeting ended,” Sandi said.

“6:57. The shortest yet,” Stacy responded.

Unknown to Quinn and the others, Daria had overheard Stacy saying ‘I'm so happy you're still one of us,’ as she had walked by. Therefore she called Jane about her suspicion.

“Come on, not even aliens would give the planet to the Fashion Club. You're getting paranoid,” Jane responded.

“I'm not talking about aliens. But there's something out there. Something stupid.”

“You get rattled too easily,” Jane responded, then changed her tone. “By the way, can you come over here right now? I'm really scared.”

“I see. And to what do I owe this mood swing?” Daria asked.

“It's Trent's song. You gotta listen and tell me if it's getting more cheerful.”

“Now who's paranoid?”

“Come on, I'll order a pizza. And don’t tell your mother where you’re going, I don’t want her getting all motherly.”

“Right away.”

Words: 293

Excerpt from: In the House of Tom Bombadil

“We heard news of you, and heard that you were wandering. We guessed that you’d come ere long down to the water: all paths lead that way, down to Withywindle. Old grey Willow-man, he’s a mighty singer; and it’s hard for little folk to escape his cunning mazes. But Tom had an errand there, that he dared not hinder.” He then sang a song of his errand and of how he had met Goldberry long ago.

Tom had fallen silent, but Frodo couldn’t resist asking one more question. “Tell us, Master, about the Willow-man. What is he? I have never heard of him before.”

“No, don’t!” Merry and Pippin said together.

“That is right,” Tom said. “Now is the time for resting. Some things are ill to hear while the world is in shadow. Sleep until the morning light, rest on the pillow!”

Words: 143

Total: 635

[justaleafinthewind]

If any one of my posts is to break containment, make it this one.

Before January 2025, download your favorite fics, especially those with smut or queer content.

If Project 2025 goes into effect (which it very likely will now that we have three red branches of government in the US), they may attempt to restrict the use/sharing of media on sites like ao3.

This particularly applies to fics with smut or any type of queer content, because the official Project 2025 document states, "Pornography, manifested today in the omnipresent propagation of transgender ideology and sexualization of children, for instance... has no claim to First Amendment protection... Pornography should be outlawed."

Now, I don't expect ao3 to disappear or go anywhere without a fight, but it's best to be on the safe side these days.

To download your favorite fics:

Go to archiveofourown.org and open the fic you want to download.

At the top right corner, to the right of the 'subscribe' button, is a button that says 'download'. Click it.

A drop-down menu will give you the option to choose the format of your download. Choose your preferred format (.epub and .pdf are my personal favorites -- .epub lets you open a fic in the apple books app and .pdf is compatible with like every device and program out there).

When you click the button for your preferred format, a pop-up window appears confirming your choices. The title of the document will default to the title of the fic, so be aware of that and consider changing conspicuous titles to something ignorable, especially if you share the computer.

You're done! Now do this with all your favorite fics!

Stay safe out there, your favorite characters are rooting for you <3

[novella-november]

Novella November 2024 Announcement Post

Hate AI, but love writing challenges?

Want to take part in a global, fun project to write a Novella in one month?

Grab some friends, and take part in Novella November, by writing 1,000 words a day for the month of November, ending with a 30,000 word Novella to test and stretch your novel-writing skills!

Your goal is not perfection, but merely getting into the habit of writing a litte bit every single day :D

No website, no sign-ups -- Just a community initiative to write using only your own word!

What are the rules? Just Three so far!

#1 - No AI

#2 - No Plagiarizing

#3 - Wordcount for the month should only come from what you write during the month.

What does that mean?

Only words written during November should go towards your Wordcount for the month... but! Feel free to use your 30k words as a continuation of previous writing, or just make it the first 30k words in a longer novel!

Don't think you can write a whole entire 30k word story? Write a series of short stories that total up to 30k!

Not ready to write original works yet? Write a 30k word fanfiction that you can post after the month is over!

Share your writing experience, tips, encouragement, and questions in the #Novella November tag!

---

EDIT, from the tags: Want a progress tracker? Track your progress with TrackBear!

https://trackbear.app/

Don't have a word processor? Use LibreOffice , the free and open-source alternative to Microsoft Word!

Want to organize/storyboard your Novel and don't want to pay a subscription? Try 7writer by Simon Haynes!

Want to be able to listen to your story aloud for proofreading using TTS (text to speech)? Try Balabolka!

Or, create some custom progress / Goal Cards in advance you can fill out as you reach word goals! For ideas and templates, search this blog for "goal cards" :D

Want to do a writing challenge in more than just November? Check out my ideas here for year round challenges to keep you writing consistently! Got feedback? Send it in, I'd love to see everyone's ideas!

---

EDIT 2: I almost forgot to mention, if you are unable to write/type your story, you can also narrate/dictate your story to your preferred recording device!

If you're doing a Recording only and it doesn't automatically generate a transcript, it would obviously be hard to judge the word count -- but you're also working with a lot of obstacles, so I'd say if you're able to complete your story via voice recording from start to finish, you've definitely achieved the goal!

Edit #3: added the title "Novella November 2024 announcement post" to the top to make it more standard with my Ominous October and Drabble December posts (will be updating Outline October shortly) , added "Official Announcement Post 2024" to the tags so people can easily find the monthly events for 2024, and added a bit of bold to the third bullet point in the original post from September 2nd 2024 for emphasis.

[mournfulroses]

Else Fitzgerald, from "Everything Feels Like the End of The World," publ. in 2022

[wonkyjaw]

Quilt update. This is split somewhere in the blues and I have to sew that together and then I have to add one more yellow row to the top. Then the quilt top is finally, finally done.

[floralpoeticss]

November is the month of poets, artists, thinkers, lovers and wanderers.

[porcelian]

“Good news,” you chided, “the swelling should go down in a few days.”

Jason’s seafoam green eyes trail your silhouette from the couch he rests on. You fuss around the medicine cabinet, fingers wrapping around the Ibuprofen and anti-septic cream.

He sees the dull shine of your eyes as you approach him in the living room, taking a seat across from him and placing the medicine on the small oak-wood coffeé table.

“You should have come to me sooner.” Your nose scrunches up seeing the purple-green blooming on his marred skin.

“I could have helped. Instead you settle with—” you ramble on while staring down the frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise. “—frozen peas?” you deadpan.

Jason chuckles and shows his crooked grin, sly hands reaching out to you and wrapping around your free hand. “I apologize to you, doc.”

“You better be sorry!” You let out a shaky laugh, “I'm worried, Jay.”

The worried tone of your voice strikes a cord in Jason's heart. He takes the cream and carefully tries to remove the cap, being sure not to disturb the wrapping around his two broken fingers.

“Jay—” you breathe out, hands carefully wrapping around his own, “—let me help, please.” you plead, your voice reaches deep in the corners of his body and buries itself in his heart. He was always weak for you and this moment is no different. He hands you the cream.

You open your mouth, words on the tip of your mouth. Jason's eyes settle on your lips, they thin in concentration as you gather the ivory-colored cream on your fingers.

“You're lucky I’m crazy in love with you.” Your tender hands graze his bruised skin. You hold onto him like he's something worth protecting and taking care of.

“Better than frozen peas.” He mumbles as your hands lull him in a hazy sleep.

“They better be.”

“Yes, they are. A kiss should be better at healing me, though.”

“You really are lucky I love you.”

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Anne Michaels from "Infinite Gradation"

[writeouswriter]

My followers: And is this “writing” you’ve been “working on” in the room with us right now?

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Why Writers Don't Finish Writing Their Stories, and How to Fix It

Hello fellow writers and storytellers,

The journey of writing a story is an exhilarating adventure, but it's not without its share of obstacles. Many of us have embarked on a creative endeavor, only to find ourselves mired in the struggle to finish what we started. In this blog post, I'll unravel the common reasons why writers don't finish their stories and explore practical strategies to overcome these hurdles and reignite the flame of creativity.

The Perils of Unfinished Stories

As writers, we often find ourselves in the throes of unfinished tales, grappling with the intricate web of characters, plots, and themes. There are several reasons why the ink dries up and the story remains untold. Let's shine a light on the familiar adversaries that stand between us and the triumphant completion of our narratives:

1. Lack of Planning:

Some of us brazenly dive into our stories without a clear roadmap, resulting in uncertainty about the direction of the plot and the fate of our characters. The lack of a solid plan can lead us astray, leaving our stories wandering in the wilderness of aimlessness.

2. Self-Doubt and Perfectionism:

Ah, the relentless whispers of self-doubt and the siren call of perfectionism! These twin adversaries can cast a shadow over our creative vision, compelling us to endlessly revise and perfect the early chapters, trapping us in a whirlpool of perpetual edits.

3. Time Management:

Balancing the demands of daily life with the ardor of writing can be akin to walking a tightrope. The struggle to find consistent time for our craft often leaves our stories languishing in prolonged periods of inactivity, longing for the touch of our pen.

4. Writer's Block:

The mighty barrier that even the most intrepid writers encounter. Writer's block can be an insurmountable mountain, leaving us stranded in the valleys of creative drought, unable to breathe life into new ideas and narratives.

5. Lack of Motivation:

The flame that once burned brightly can flicker and wane over time, leaving us adrift in the murky waters of disillusionment. The initial excitement for our stories diminishes, making it arduous to stay committed to the crafting process.

6. Fear of Failure or Success:

The twin specters that haunt many writers' dreams. The apprehension of rejection and the unsettling prospect of life-altering success can tether us to the shores of hesitation, preventing us from reaching the shores of completion.

7. Criticism and Feedback Anxiety:

The looming dread of judgment casts a long shadow over our creative endeavors. The mere thought of receiving criticism or feedback, whether from peers or potential readers, can cast a cloud over our storytelling pursuits.

8. Plotting Challenges:

Crafting a cohesive and engaging plot is akin to navigating a labyrinth without a map. Faced with hurdles in connecting story elements, we may find ourselves lost in a maze of plot holes and unresolved threads.

9. Character Development Struggles:

Breathing life into multi-dimensional, relatable characters is a complex art. The intricate process of character development can become a quagmire, ensnaring us in the challenge of creating personas that drive the story forward. (Part one of Character Development Series)

10. Life Events and Distractions:

Unexpected events in our personal lives can cast ripples on our writing routines, interrupting the flow of our creativity and causing a loss of momentum.

Rallying Against the Odds: Strategies for Success

Now that we've confronted the adversaries that threaten to stall our storytelling odysseys, let's arm ourselves with strategies to conquer these barriers and reignite the flames of our creativity.

Embrace the Power of Planning:

A clear roadmap illuminates the path ahead. Arm yourself with outlines, character sketches, and plot maps to pave the way for your story's journey.

Vanquish Self-Doubt with Action:

Silence the voices of doubt with the power of progress. Embrace the imperfect beauty of your early drafts, knowing that every word brings you closer to the finish line.

Mastering the Art of Time:

Carve out sacred writing time in your schedule. Whether it’s ten minutes or two hours, every moment dedicated to your craft is a step forward.

Conquering Writer's Block:

Embrace the freedom of imperfection. Write, even if the words feel like scattered puzzle pieces. The act of writing can unravel the most stubborn knots of writer's block.

Reigniting the Flame of Motivation:

Seek inspiration in the wonders of the world. Reconnect with the heart of your story, rediscovering the passion that set your creative spirit ablaze.

Reshaping Fear into Fuel:

Embrace the uncertainty as an integral part of the creative journey. Embrace the lessons within rejection and prepare for the winds of change that success may bring.

Navigating the Realm of Criticism:

Embrace feedback as a catalyst for growth. Constructive criticism is a powerful ally, shaping your story into a work of art that resonates with readers.

Weaving the Threads of Plot:

Connect the dots with fresh eyes. Step back and survey the tapestry of your plot, seeking innovative solutions to bridge the gaps and untangle the knots.

Breathing Life into Characters:

Engage with your characters as if they were old friends. Dive into their depths, unraveling their quirks, fears, and dreams, and watch as they breathe life into your story.

Navigating Life's Tempests:

Embrace the ebb and flow of life. Every pause in your writing journey is a chance to gather new experiences and perspectives, enriching your storytelling tapestry.

The Ever-Resting Pen: Harnessing the Power Within

Fellow writers, the journey of completing a story is filled with peaks and valleys, each offering us the opportunity to sharpen our resolve and unleash our creative potential. As we stand at the crossroads, staring at the canvas of unfinished tales, let's rally against the odds, armed with the power of purpose, passion, and perseverance.

Let the ink flow once more, breathing life into tales left untold, and watch as your stories triumphantly reach their long-awaited conclusion. You possess the power to conquer the adversaries that stand in your way, and within you lies the essence of untold narratives waiting to unfurl onto the page.

Here's to the journey that lies ahead, the stories waiting to be written, and the unyielding spirit of creativity that thrives within each of us.

Warm regards and unwavering encouragement, Ren T.

[luna-writes-stuff]

Regarding November Writings:

Your fics will be published!! I will publish them later in December! I went on a trip to London this month and had a complete lack of motivation to write the last eight fics, but I am planning on finishing them, so don’t worry! They’ll be here before the end of the year <3

[fardell24b]

23rd, 24th November 2024 Writings

23rd

Excerpt from: An Unexpected Connection

Joey entered the pizza place. He looked around and saw that Jeffy and Jamie weren’t there yet. ‘They probably won’t be long,’ he thought. He then went up to order.

“Joey?”

He turned and saw Andrea Hecuba-Croft, a goth who had recently graduated from Lawndale High. “Andrea?”

“Here alone, I see.”

“Yes.”

“Without your friends, or the younger Morgendorffer?” Andrea asked.

“Not Quinn anymore.”

“Not Quinn.”

“Like, she’s a tease.”

Words: 70

Excerpt from: An Alternate Journey

“Prepare to fire phasers,” the leader ordered.

“Aye.”

The two vessels together approached the small starship.

“We're about to enter weapons range. Need I remind you, that Kathiannah has a full weapons coverage.”

“I'm well aware,” Daniel said.

“So am I,” Katelyn said as an alarm sounded. They had entered Kathiannah's weapons range.

“Prepare to open fire.”

Katelyn and Tuvok evaded the terrorists attempts at swatting them out of space, then opened fire.

“Aft sheilds down to 92%.”

“Evasive maneouvers,” the leader ordered. “Drop out of warp.”

“They're dropping out of warp,” Tuvok said.

“Dropping out of warp also,” Hawkins reported.

“Take my lead,” Tuvok reported.

“Aye,” Daniel said.

“Aft sheilds down to 75%.”

“Prepare to fire torpedoes.”

“Aye.”

“They are preparing to fire torpedoes,” Tuvok reported. “Prepare to fire simultanously.”

“Has this ever worked?” Katelyn asked.

“Not very often,” Tuvok responded. “But we have to attempt it.”

“Ready?” Daniel asked.

Words: 151

Excerpt from: Genie Universe Continuity Reboot

Those that did know had been preparing for months. It was an event that would set off a chain of events that bring about massive changes to the city.

Only a minority of people knew what was about to happen that afternoon, after school had finished for the day.

At 3:00 pm there was a secret meeting below Delroy High School. “Are you ready for what is going to happen?” asked the meeting leader.

Everyone there exclaimed in the affirmative.

“Excellent! Now you can go back to class and set things in motion” The teenagers in the room then left, going back to class via the secret corridors beneath the school.

Jane Johnson, an average year 9 student, did not know as she exited the school’s front entrance what role she would play in the history making events over the next few weeks.

Words: 143

Excerpt from: Mysteries of Aurora

Freya nodded. “I guess most are too busy with their studies to do more than scratch the surface.”

“Four or more thousand years of history,” Daniela considered.

Freya took out her tablet and took a photo of the Library as seen from that vantage point. “Another thing to sketch,” she said with a smile.

“So, you do a lot different kinds of art?”

“Of course. I use all sorts of mediums.”

Words: 71

Excerpt from: Ivy and Lily

“It’s been something I have been wanting to do for years.”

Lily was then silent as she took that in.

It was then quiet as she unpacked and Lily sketched.

Ivy finished unpacking. She turned to Lily. “Would you like to look around campus?”

Lily paused her sketching and thought for a moment. “Maybe later.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Ivy said.

“Actually…” Lily said as she turned a page. “I’ll come.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“You just caught me off guard.”

The two soon headed out. Lily sketched a map as they went.

Words:  99

Excerpt from: Spider Quinn

“The fourth vigilante! I would have thought your name would be known.”

“I don’t seek the spotlight as much as SpiderGirl! But I’m not giving my hero name to you.”

“No? Then I’ll give you my villain name,” Quentin said.

“So, you’re saying you’re a villain?” the Enigma asked. ‘Protection!’ she thought and raised a forcefield around herself as usual.

“Yes. Call me Mysterio!”

“Mysterio, sounds better than Green Goblin at least.”

“I’m not like the Green Goblin!” Mysterio said.

“You didn’t destroy the Historia, but you have disrupted it.”

Mysterio turned away. “You’re distracting me! SpiderGirl and Ninja Talon are rescuing the critics and Ms. Jane.”

“They will take the credit, but that is, like, worth it for Jane and the others to be rescued.”

“But can you keep distracting me if you don’t know where I am?”

“You’ll find that I have powers of perception,” the Enigma said.

At the same time, SpiderGirl, Ninja Talon and Jane swung out of the cabin, and onto the roof.

“I’m glad to be out of there,” Jane said.

“But now we need to get away,” SpiderGirl said.

“There’s a boat nearby,” Dafoanairi called from down from the ground.

“Is there?” Ninja Talon asked.

“I saw it as I approached. We can go back to Lawndale, up the creek, in it,” Dafoanairi said.

“That will work,” Jane said, “Even in this weather.”

“No!” Kalina murmured.

“Where’s the fourth vigilante?” SpiderGirl asked.

“She went inside. She’s distracting Beck,” Dafoanairi answered.

“Then we need to get a move on,” SpiderGirl said. “I’ll bring you up here.”

“Sure,” Dafoanairi said.

‘If she is Daria, she could put me in a difficult position,’ SpiderGirl thought as she swung down.

Dafoanairi let go of the rope and held onto SpiderGirl as she swung them both up onto the roof. ‘There’s something about her,’ she thought, once she had a footing. She wasn’t sure what to make of that thought. ‘I’ll think about it later.’

Mysterio had activated illusions in the cabin’s main room. But the Enigma refused to let herself be disoriented. She closed her eyes, and listened and used her enhanced perception to ‘see’ where Mysterio was. She could also tell that, the other three vigilantes were on the roof with Jane and the critics. “I’m sure they have escaped by now.”

“They are on the roof,” Mysterio said in a pompous tone. “They haven’t escaped yet.”

“What, you have illusions on the roof?”

“No, but I can still catch them, and I have more than illusions to work with.”

“Not if I take you down. I will do anything to make sure that they get away,” the Enigma said,

SpiderGirl looked at the boat and back at the roof she and the others were still standing on, despite the intensifying storm. The trees between them and the boat were swinging wildly.

Words: 476

Total: 1010

24th

Excerpt from: Connection over Literature

The dorm room door opened, revealing a whirlwind carrying unpacked boxes. “Hi! I’m Emily!” she said in high pitched voice.

“Great, another one,” the girl who was already there grumbled.

Emily was undettered and started chatting away as she unpacked. “I come from a small town a couple of hours away. It’s mostly quiet but interesting in it’s own way. If you came there, you’d be surprised by what’s there. Anyway I like reading and writing and hope to be a fantasy author one day…”

The other girl interrupted. “Look. I’m not interested in your life story. I just want some peace and quiet.”

Emily was taken aback. “Oh, sorry.”

Words: 110

Excerpt from: The Alternate Anya

Startled, she looked around the library and saw no one, except one who sat across from her. She saw that she looked exactly the same as her, including hairstyle and clothes, except that she had her eyes closed.

“Who, who are you?” Anya asked, her heart pounding.

“I’m you, but different. A version of you who chose a different path.”

“A different path? What do you mean?”

“I chose to live in the dark.”

Words: 74

Excerpt from: Convergence on Lawndale

“Either way, it would take a while to find her,” Daria said.

“We need to split up,” the Doctor said. “I’ll search the courtyards with Ron and Rufus, and everyone else can check the bathrooms.”

“Ron and I work best together,” Kim said. “But I agree, this time.”

“I would be best if there was a girl looking in the courtyards too,” Quinn said.

“Good point,” the Doctor said. “You can come with then.”

“Great!” Quinn said.

Thus Kim, Daria and Kaelyn went to search the bathrooms.

Words: 87

Excerpt from: Mission with WOOHP

“Excuse me! Get out my way!” she said.

“Sorry,” Kim said.

The girl just stormed past her.

“Reminds me of Bonnie, a little,” Ron commented.

“Same here.”

It didn’t take them long to find the Seniors.

“Ah! Kim Possible,” Senior Senior Senior said.

“What are you up to, Senior?” Kim asked.

“Preparing a scheme here in Beverley Hills.”

Words: 58

Except from: Mysteries of Aurora

“So, you do a lot different kinds of art?”

“Of course. I use all sorts of mediums.”

“Very versatile,” Daniela commented.

“I’ve had to be adaptable,” Freya said as she headed off towards the Library.

Olivia looked out over the university and the city from the rooftop café after finishing her meal. ‘I have called Urbs Aeterna home all my life, and yet I hardly understand it.’

Words: 67

Excerpt from: Spider Quinn

“We have to make a move, now,” she decided.

“I agree. It’s risky now, but we have to do it,” Ninja Talon said.

“I don’t see any other way either,” Jane said.

SpiderGirl looked at Jane, and she knew Dafoanairi was looking at her too.

“What? I’m not only an artist. I run for fun too, and sometimes climb things,” Jane explained.

“Got it,” Dafoanairi said.

“Right, Talon and I will fire a zipline and a webline to the same tree at the same time,” SpiderGirl said. “Do you have more rope, Dafoanairi?”

“One more loop, just as well I prepared for this” Dafoanairi said.

“Spidey can take Kalina and Oliver. Dafoanairi can take Jane and I’ll take the other,” Ninja Talon said.

“That’ll work,” SpiderGirl said. “You two go first. I think Kalina’s going to take some convincing.” She looked at Kalina, who still was huddling with her eyes closed.

“She’s had it the worst,” Jane commented.

At the same time, Leung and his fellow officers arrived. “Report,” he said to Peterson.

“Most of the vigilantes are there,” Peterson said.

“Which ones.”

“The fourth vigilante is confronting Beck. SpiderGirl, Ninja Talon and Dafoanairi are in the process of rescuing the abductees, but the storm is making it difficult.”

Leung grabbed the binoculars and saw Ninja Talon shoot a zipline to one of the trees behind the cabin. “We’ll give them another ten minutes. Then we’ll go in.”

Mysterio tried to tackle the Enigma, but her forcefield held. “I might not be able to take you down, but that doesn’t mean I can’t stop the rescue.”

“I’m sure I can take you down, but I’m not sure what my powers will do to you.”

“Heroism, funny how morals get in the way.”

“Antihero, but morals are what’s between that and being a villain. I may want to confront SpiderGirl sometime, but I don’t want to take her out,” the Enigma said.

“You’re all talk,” Mysterio taunted.

“I could squeeze that fishbowl helmet of yours, but I won’t. I could also tear this place down around you, but some of the others are still on the roof.”

“You’re still holding yourself back.”

“I don’t want to join you,” the Enigma said as she broke the windows, letting the rain and wind in. “That will disrupt the illusions.”

Mysterio turned around and started walking away.

The Enigma smirked and caused him to trip.

Ninja Talon and the critic swung up to a tree.

“This is dangerous!”

“Better than staying there,” Ninja Talon said.

“We’re next,” Dafoanairi said to Jane.

“I know,” Jane said as she looked at where SpiderGirl was trying to sooth Kalina.

“Just as well I can do this,” Dafoanairi said as she lassoed one of the trees. She pulled and the rope held. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Jane said.

“Let’s go.”

Jane grabbed hold of Dafoanairi and they then swung into the trees next to Ninja Talon. ‘Dafoanairi is just using wits and a staff. She’s ill prepared for something like this,’ she thought.

“Kalina?” SpiderGirl said. “I’m going to need you to hold on again. Can you do that?”

“I think I can. You don’t know what it was like. He wanted me to critique his own ‘plays’. He is all sparkle and no plot.”

“Like some of Hollywood?” SpiderGirl asked.

“Wors,” Kalina answered as she stood up. She still didn’t open her eyes.

SpiderGirl sighed and stepped closer. “I’m right here.”

Kalina through her arms around her.

“Now you, Oliver,” SpiderGirl said.

Words: 568

Total:  963

[tagidearte]

My internship has started and I'm overloaded with doing historical illustration + writing a whole ass roman history of the region book for children, so... No time for finished stuff any time soon (except one I've already started and will probs post within the next few days). Take this quick messy shippy little concept.

If they ever got separate bodies, I know they would be touchy. Trying to get as close as they once were.

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

It’s thanksgiving and Steve is making dinner for the guys, plus Robin, Chrissy, and Wayne. Steve is pulling out all of the stops— he’s making a turkey, a ham, Mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, yams and marshmallows, stuffing, the works. His turkey isn’t even dry, which causes Freak to propose to Steve on the spot.

Everything is homemade and obviously super delicious. But, Steve isn’t paying attention to his omnipod and barely eats anything all day. He’s had little tastes of some stuff here and there to make sure that it tastes good, but besides that, it’s been nothing.

Eddie comes into the kitchen and finds Steve almost dead on his feet, monotonously stirring the gravy.

“Hey Stevie, how are you feeling?” He wraps his arms around Steve’s middle and turns the burner off, coaxing Steve to a seat at the table. “When was the last time you checked your level, my love?”

Steve shrugs and motions toward his diabetes pouch.

Eddie first checks Steve’s pod, then his phone to see how far off the app is, before pricking Steve’s finger.

“Yikes, babe. Let me get you a snack and a juice.” Eddie gently places a Garfield bandaid around Steve’s middle finger and kisses the top of his head. “Be right back, baby.”

Ten minutes later, Steve is feeling much better and lets Robin take care of the rest of the cooking. Eddie holds Steve hostage on the couch and continually monitors Steve’s blood sugar levels for the rest of the night.

Steve wakes up the next morning snuggled into a blanket burrito. His head is in eddie’s lap and they are both in the couch. His fingers feel faintly sore and he sees the bandaids on almost all of his fingers.

“Hey Eds?” Steve shakes his partner awake and plants a big kiss onto his lips.

“Yeah?” Eddie is rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stretching. “What’s up?”

Steve smiles. “Thank you for taking care of me. I love you. And I think we should get married tomorrow.”

Eddie laughs. “I love you too, Stevie. Can you wait until Saturday? I already have an appointment made at the courthouse.”