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aftergloom · 1 year ago

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @thegreatwicked! This is my main — @thenightmarketofdathomir is my sideblog (and I usually do these tag games over here.)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? Twenty one. Have deleted as many in as many years, probably.

2. What's your total A03 word count? 740,975. I had this horrified moment as I was tallying… what if my current WIP (not live) has a bigger total than everything else that’s up as of today? (It’s not. I’m not sure if I’m relieved because this thing is shaping up to be a trilogy.)

3. What fandoms do you write for? Stah Wahs

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Kudos in ratio to chapter, orrrr just the volume? Some of them are shit and I pretend they don’t exist anymore so I’m not going to list them. They’re like bad dreams. That shit never happened I don’t care if it took 38 chapters. And I’m not counting the Nightmarket because it’s a hundred and eighty one-shots lumped together.

Somebody's gonna have a bad time by nxctuary (Opress Bros x Reader)

Drown Me in You by nxctuary (Mermaid!Maul x Reader)

The myriad applications and multiple uses for a Corellian HWY-280 class fresher. Article 342: One locking door. by nxctuary (Feral x Reader)

The Collector by nxctuary (Maul x Reader)

The Ritual by nxctuary (Maul x Reader)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Depends on a couple of things that aren’t always consistent, and often if I don’t reply it’s because the comment broke me. (I often will reply, but I’m like a cryptid — expect me to pop-up without warning six months after you’ve left a note.) It’s often someone saying something nice, my inner self-hatred seeing it and going, “LIAR!” And then taking six months to convince myself that I just can’t take a compliment when negotiating my own imposter syndrome.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ah that’s… hm. I don’t think I’ve killed anyone lately.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Everyone gets a happy ending. Even if it’s a little twisted. I like horror endings, you know? The kind that, on the surface, appear as if everything’s actually going to work out for the better but there’s a single drop of darkness left on the page that implies everything can be lost at a moment’s notice.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Narp.

9. Do you write smut? Yarp.

10. Do you write crossovers? Just once. Let’s not talk about it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Better not have. I’ve had multiple pieces plagiarized partially, though. In really hilarious ways (to me, at least) because there’s nothing like borrowing a turn of phrase said to you IRL (while you were sleeping with the person who said it), giving those words to Maul as he speaks them to the Reader character, then finding someone else pulled out several lines of the same dialogue to use in their fic without permission. Maybe don’t do that. You don’t know where this stuff comes from, and you definitely don’t know what I was working through when I wrote it. Awkward.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I remember. (Maybe once in X-Men? I've had work turned into podfic, though.)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Feral and Kai? Do OCs count?

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Nothing is ever finished even if it’s finished. I don’t understand the question. /j

16. What are your writing strengths? I show up every day and I do the work. Even when it sucks and when I hate it. I do the work.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? If I don’t have a clear overview of how a scene is going to play out (or especially the layers of an argument between the characters — what they’re saying VS what they really mean, what they’re withholding, what the reader knows but they don’t, etc) I will spin my wheels and fill up a page with setting description to avoid making a bulleted list of what’s actually happening so I can get to the point. Then edit it twelve times later like hacking away at a hunk of marble trying to get to the good bits.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Doesn’t bother me. There are circumstances where the jist of the conversation carries regardless, and if not, I’m assuming the writer’s offering a translation either in-text or as a citation. I mean, if you want to get granular about it, then start asking does doing that serve the story and what does it add, or does it detract, but that’s a situational thing and I think you need to experiment a bit to learn what works in context.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter. Draco/Harry. I was baby.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Archangel (unreleased). Heartsong (unreleased). Crown of Motherfucking Horns (current WIP). CoH my heart. CoH beloved. CoH my baby.

Tagging (no pressure): @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @grinningnexu @sinisterexaggerator @inquisitorius-sin-bin @umber-cinders @graaaaceeliz @not0a0mundane and anyone else who wants to play :)

#tag game #on writing #Darth Maul x Reader #Feral Opress x Reader #Savage Opress x Reader #Opress Bros x Reader #that polyfic follows me to this day istg #Maul x Reader #Maul x You #Feral Opress x You #Savage Opress x You

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companionjones · 5 years ago

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Children In Chaos

Requested by: Anon

Request: Hello! Could I please request an Even Buckley x reader where she's English and she helped a kid in a crisis and calmed him down, even getting him back to safety when they couldn't and that's how they meet? He thinks she's really sweet and kind but she can also be quite sassy so she gets along w everyone? Ty x

Fandom: 9-1-1 (FOX)

Pairing: Evan Buckley x English!Reader, Platonic!OC x English!Reader

Warnings: Nothing much. Bit of a disaster. A dash of angst.

*******

Everything was so loud. There was the expected loud noises, such as the initial crash and the walls and ceiling falling. Then, there were new loud sounds. You could suddenly clearly hear your breathing and heartbeat. You hoped that would stop soon.

For the longest time, you thought you were alone because all the people you had seen in the department store before hand were abruptly gone due to the devastation. Then, you heard the whimpering.

“Hello?” you cautiously called out to the near-darkness.

It was a little boy. You realized that when you crawled around a corner. “Who-Who are you?”

“Uh, hi. I-I’m Y/n...and uh...Okay, we’re in a pretty crazy situation right now, but you and I are going to stick together until we get out of this. Okay?”

The boy started nodding.

“Okay...okay, good. Why don’t we take a look around, huh?” you suggested.

He nodded more, and let you helped him out of the corner he had tucked himself into.

After about an hour, you had given up on searching for your own way out. By then, you had learned the boy’s name, Todd, and the two of you had spent a long time crawling around tight spaces. Sweat stains had developed a long time ago.

As you and Todd leaned against opposite makeshift walls, he asked you, “Miss Y/n, why do you talk so weird?”

“‘Talk so weird?’” you laughed. Todd was only 7, of course he didn’t know much about accents. “It’s my accent, Todd. I’m not American, I’m actually from Britain.” You spent the next several minutes explaining accents to Todd. You didn’t mind. It took both of your thoughts off your current situation. The two of you actually spent a good amount of time discussing when Americans switched from English to American accents after colonial times. Again: Todd was 7.

Some time after, you nodded, “That is a very good point, Todd. It has to have been some time after--aAH!” The ground shook, and things started falling again. You immediately went to protect Todd.

After the small panic had passed, a new voice sounded, “Hello?”

For a moment, you and Todd just looked at each other. Then, it hit.

“Yes! Yes, hello! We’re over here!”

A man’s face was suddenly visible through the parts of concrete. “How are you guys doing?!”

“Yes, we’re alright.”

The man asked a few more questions, like if anyone was hurt and how many people were present. The young man turned out to be a firefighter. He revealed his name to be Evan Buckley, or ‘Buck’ for short. In return, you and Todd gave your own names.

Fireman Buckley went on to tell Todd that his parents made it out okay, and that they were just outside the site, waiting for Todd.

Buck ended up handing you a walkie-talkie in case anything went wrong and you and Todd got separated from him.

Less than ten minutes later, just that happened. Buck had mentioned that the once-department store was still unstable. That was what caused more concrete to fall.

Soon after the third collapse of the day, Buck’s voice rung through the walkie-talkie. “Are you two okay?”

“Yes, we’re fine.” It took you a moment to find the proper button.

Buck comforted, “Can you take some deep breaths for me?”

You did so after nodding at Todd to breathe, too. “Fireman Buckley...Buck, are there any plans that involve us getting out of here?”

Buck answered, “Yep, my team is working on something right now...The thing is, it’s going to take a few hours...and it could get thrown off if there’s another collapse.”

“Not to mention, another collapse could kill--cause worse things to happen,” you hastily added after remembering the young boy that was with you. Sighing, you leaned your elbows on your knees so the walkie and your free hand could hold the weight of your head. You rhetorically mumbled, “Got anymore bad news, Buck?”

The young firefighter mumbled sincerely, “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You decided not to reply.

Instead, Todd filled the silence. “So, that firefighter’s pretty cute, right?”

Chuckling, you inquired, “You think so?”

He responded, “I’m wondering if you think so.”

“How old did you say you were again?” You were still grinning.

Todd nonchalantly answered, “7.”

“I...It doesn’t matter what I think about Fireman Buckley. Now is definitely not the time for those kinds of thoughts, Todd.”

His voice got low as he mumbled, “It might be the last time for any kind of thoughts, Miss Y/n.”

“Don’t think like that.” You kept your voice gentle. Fireman Buckley seems very capable.”

Todd’s voice was still spiteful. “Of course you would think that.”

“And I’m sure his team have the same skills,” you continued, “Now, what would you like to do while we wait for our rescue? How do you feel about a game of ‘Would You Rather?’”

The boy sighed while he thought about it. Then, “Okay, Miss Y/n.”

“After what’s happened today, I don’t think we need the ‘Miss’ anymore. Alright?”

Todd nodded as he crawled over to a spot next to you. “Thanks, Y/n.”

“Anytime, sweetie,” you smiled.

It took five hours, but Buck’s team finally found you and Todd. You were thankful, and that was in no small part because it was getting harder and harder for Todd to keep Buck out of his ‘Would You Rather?’ questions.

The way you got out was kind of dangerous. Basically, the piece of concrete that was acting as yours and Todd’s ceiling was removed, and a woman was lowered down to lift you and Todd out of there. Obviously, you let Todd go first. When your turn came, things turned for the worse. Objects started falling again, and you were one of them. Hen--you’d later learned her name--almost lost her grip on you. Almost. You made it out okay. Only, you were a little shaken up.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Todd asked, then cradled in his mother’s arms.

Smiling, you nodded in response to the young boy. “Yes, I’m alright, Todd. Go get those scratches checked out, okay?”

He nodded, and his father spoke up, “We cannot thank you enough for what you did for our son. Please, give us a call if you need anything.” The man handed you his card.

“Thank you,” you accepted. “Todd is a very brave boy.”

Todd’s father agreed, then went back to his family.

A young fireman showed himself where you were getting examined for injuries. He appeared to be listening to the previous conversation. “And you are a very brave woman,” he added.

“Nice to see your face again,” you smiled.

His face matched yours. “Same to you,” Buck replied. He paused, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I think I’m alright. A few scrapes and bruises...and I’m only a little shaken up. Thank you,” You sincerely added, referring to what Buck was really asking about: your mental health.

The fireman donned a smile that let you know he was trying to be charming. “So Miss Y/n, I was wondering--”

Interrupting, Todd called over from where his wounds were getting checked out, “After what’s happened today, I don’t think we need the ‘Miss,’ anymore. Alright?”

Todd’s parents immediately shushed their son.

Buck leaned over you to respond to Todd. “Thanks, Todd.”

You couldn’t hold in your giggles from the interaction very well.

“So, Y/n,” Buck stressed your name, “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime? I could give you my number.”

Then, you were giggling for a different reason. “I’d love that,” you replied.

For a moment, Buck seemed relieved that you had agreed. He finally, albeit clumsily, pulled out his phone. “I, uh, cool. Here--here you go.”

Again, Todd sounded out. He was laughing. “Smooth, Buckley. Smooth.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it! If you would like to read more, I have more fics on 9-1-1 over on my page. You should go check it out. Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I take requests for one-shots, multi-chapters, headcannons, and preferences. No smut, please. I write for a variety of fandoms. If you’re wondering if I write for a specific fandom, please ask me. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you.<3

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lilulo-12fanfiction · 5 years ago

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In My Time of Dying- Chapter 2

So I’m not 100% sure how I feel about this chapter, but I need to get to some of the earlier stuff to set up the story. I hope you enjoy. As always I appreciate your re-blogs, comments, likes, etc. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged. This is an eventual OC x Castiel fic. There will be some OC x Charlie Bradbury as well.

I suck at summaries! This is an original character story- Alianna Winchester, twin sister of Sam. It starts off right around when Dean comes back from hell. Ali and Sam’s relationship has been fractured since he left for Stanford. She struggles to repair their relationship has they navigate the Apocalypse, her close relationship with Dean and beyond. Like Sam- She is special in a very different way. Truly the Ying to his Yang that causes a deep connection between Ali and Castiel.

Tag List:

@fandom-princess-forevermore @deans-baby-momma @magssteenkamp @blancastans @jn-wolf

Story Master List

Supernatural Masterlist: Requests are always open

Now:

Things with Sam were strained. Ali wasn’t ready to forgive him for abandoning her and going on his own quest for revenge. While she understood Sam blames himself for Dean’s sacrifice, she had lost Dean too. Then, she had lost Sam and she was still grieving the loss of John, Sam should have been there with her. They should have been trying to move on together, not apart.

Going back in time with Dean had shook her, she wasn’t over that either.When she had laid eyes on a young John Winchester she begged Cas to send her back. She was certain she’d blow their cover, but he denied her and asked her to trust him. How could she not? It annoyed Dean to no end how she just went along with whatever the Angel had to say. There was something inside of her that continually told her it was okay. When they came face to face with their huntress of a mother, Dean was certain he was going to have to peel Ali off the ground.

Each Winchester child felt the loss of Mary Winchester, but for Ali it was different. It was Dean that helped her through getting her first period. One would expect Dean Winchester to balk at the responsibility, but he knew he couldn’t rely on John to get her through it. Dean had been the one to help her through her first heartbreak and the painstaking task of coming to terms with who she was. He had been the one to tell her that he loved her no matter who she wanted to be with. He had helped her tell Sam. Dean had been the one to get her through everything a mother would have, sometimes not so gracefully, but Ali knew he did the best he could.

Ali had been right about Ruby. She had gotten herself out of hell and gotten back to Sam. That was when Sam bolted on her and Bobby. She and Dean had watched Sam send demons back to hell with his psychic abilities. They were equally upset but for very different reasons.

“You know Ali, I expected more from you than Dean. Out of anyone I expected you to be accepting.” Ali sucked in her breath and spun around to face off with her brother.

“No, NO! You don’t get to say that to me.” She only came up to Sam’s shoulder but the rage burning in her eyes had Sam regretting confronting her. “You don’t get to play wounded Sammy right now. Look, I get it. You can exorcise the demon and save most of the vessels. I probably would do the same, but you have to ask at what cost to yourself? But that’s not why I’m pissed. No, I’m pissed because YOU LEFT ME ALONE! Again! You ran off to get your revenge with your demon skank and left me out of it. Left me in the dark. We’re supposed to stick together even when we’re apart! We’re supposed to be partners no matter what. And you just cut me off. You trusted HER more than ME! Don’t you think I could have helped you tell Dean if I knew? No, instead you’ve been lying to me for MONTHS Sam…Months. And you’ve been lying to Dean since he got back. That tells me one thing, you know what you’re doing is wrong. So instead of finding out from you…Cas tells us because you need to stop. If you don’t stop, the Angels will take you out. And if you hadn’t noticed…Uriel is a douche bag. Even if I can convince Cas to let it go, Uriel will not! He came back to specifically warn you again.” Sam looked down and shook his head at his sister.

“Ali, you haven’t needed me for a long time. You made the choice to stay with Dean when I went to Stanford and then go back after the half assed apologies Dad fed you. I didn’t bring you along because between Dad and Dean you were a mess. It would have slowed me down.” Ali felt the sting of Sam’s words in her chest. She always felt like she was slowing them down, she never dreamed that Sam would agree. She could be ruthless when necessary. She was a hunter and a killer of monsters like her brothers. But loosing Dean was too much.

“Fuck off Sam.” Ali spun back around and stalked away from Sam and slammed the motel door behind her. Dean had gone on a food run so that hopefully his siblings could repair their rift. He was pissed at Sam but he needed them operating on the same page. Lilith was breaking seals left and right, they needed to stop her.

Ali wrapped her arms around herself and walked the block from the motel to a little park that was empty. Sam did see her as weak. She had spent the majority of her life “manning up” for the sake of the fight. She would have done the same after Dean. The fact that Sam doubted her told her he didn’t know her as well as she thought he did. Maybe the twin bond of their childhood was truly broken. Ali sat down on the swing, gripping the chains and stared down at her feet.

“Hello Ali.” Castiel’s gritty voice made her jump.

“Jesus Cas. You really need to send a text first before you show, or wear a bell.” She held her hand to her heart as it slowly stopped pounding.

“Ali, are you alright?” He looked at her with concern.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She scoffed.

“I heard your argument with Sam. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I came to see you and overheard.” Ali didn’t say anything. “I know you think you’re weak, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Cas…I appreciate you trying. But compared to Sam and Dean...yes I am. The two of them can put their emotions aside to get the job done. Apparently I can’t.”

“You misunderstand me. I’m not trying to placate you. You are valuable. You have no idea.” He wanted to say more, but couldn’t. “I know things have been difficult for you since Dean came back. I know I haven’t helped make it any easier. The trip to the past took a toll on you. I wish it hadn’t been necessary for you to be there but Dean is more careful when you’re around. I also appreciate your faith in me.” Ali cracked a small smile.

“Dean actually hates how easily I trust you. I’m just following my gut instinct. Uriel however, is a prick.”

“He is a bit overzealous. I’ll leave you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Can you stay? Just until Dean calls me when he’s back? I can’t be alone with Sam right now. We’ll just fight more, but I don’t want to be alone either.” Cas nodded his head and sat in silence with Ali, watching her with deep fascination as she disappeared into her own thoughts.

Then:

“Deaaaaaan c’mon! Let’s find something to do. I’m so bored and sick of looking at this room. Dad has been gone for 3 extra days.” Ali was begging for something to make the day pass.

“Al, we can’t. Dad will murder us...well me, if we leave the motel room. He gave very clear instructions. Whatever it is that he’s hunting has a thing for girls. And you blondie would be right on the list of its most wanted.” Ali flopped down on the bed in exasperation.

“I’m so sick of this life. I just want something normal. I want to have real friends. And go to parties and have a boyfriend. Maybe play a sport? I hate moving from town to town.” Ali rarely had a pity party, but today it was in full swing. John had taken Sam with him on the hunt and left Ali with Dean to keep her safe.

Dean knew she was anxious that John and Sam had been gone so long. Her cries for a normal life weren’t so much about herself but about the Winchester men being safe. Dean laid down next to her.“Ali, I’m sure that they’re fine. You know how these things go. Sometimes the hunt gets away from you. Dad can only guess how long it will take. He has no clue. I know it’s been a few days since he checked in, but that probably means he’s close and is focused.”

“What is something happened? I mean really, we can say nothing would happen to Dad, but he isn’t invincible. Sam definitely isn’t. And he’s been so reckless lately because he’s so unhappy. What if they don’t come back?” Dean took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. He knew he had to give her a real answer to set her mind at ease. Ali needed a plan to calm her anxieties. She had always been this way. As long as she had a game plan, there wasn’t much she wouldn’t take on.

“Then we would go to Bobby’s. We’d live there while you finished High School. Then we would decide what to do from there.”

“You would stay with me? You wouldn’t drop me off and then go off on your own?”

“Never. I will never just leave you like that. We’re a team. You, me and Sam. We stick together. And if something happened to Sam...then it’s you and me. I ain’t ever going to up and leave you like that. We stick together. Always.”

John and Sam had returned that night. Both were exhausted and John beaten up, but they were together again. True to his word, Dean never left her side until the day he was dragged off to Hell. Ali would gave thought Sam would have been the one to stick by her so loyally. She knew that things changed between the two of them the day she chose to stay behind with Dean and not follow Sam to California. Maybe it was unconscious, maybe it wasn't, but Sam never put her first again after that day.

Now:

Ali had gripped Dean’s arm just in time to be transported with him to wherever they were keeping Alastair. Ali looked through the small window on the door and saw Alastair chained up. Cas walked up to Ali and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“This devil's trap is old Enochian. He's bound completely.” Ali looked to Cas and studied his face. Her concern was matched by his. Dean was barely dealing with what he did in Hell. They couldn’t ask him to do this. It wasn’t right. She felt Cas’ fingers squeeze her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. She had to give him credit for picking up on the social cues.

“Well that’s fascinating. Where’s the door?”. Dean turns away from the door.

“Where are you going?” Castiel’s question rang out as he grabbed Ali’s arm and pulled her with him.

“To hitch back to Cheyenne, thank you very much.“ Dean and Ali we’re stopped by Uriel as he stood in their way.

“Angels are dying, boy.” Ali scoffed and before she could respond, Dean did.

“Everybody's dying these days. And hey, I get it. You're all-powerful. You can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this.” Ali squeezed Dean’s hand to reassure him. She knew how unsettled this was making him. Castiel was next to speak.

“This is too much to ask, I...I know. But we have to ask it. Dean and Ali studies Castiel for a moment and then turned back to Uriel.

“We want to talk to Cas... alone.” Uriel looked Dean and Ali up and down and smirked.

“I think I'll go seek revelation. We might have some further orders. But there had better not be any interference by you, Alianna.” Uriel tried to intimidate Ali, but she stood her ground.

Dean rolled his eyes at Uriel’s attempt. “Well, get some donuts while you're out.” Uriel let out a laugh.

“Ah, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy.” Ali wandered back over to the glass window and stared at Alistair. Ali would love nothing more than to rip him apart herself. The demon that hurt her brother, her protector, so badly. She considered what Cas had said to her about being powerful and valuable. She wished she knew what he meant. He hadn’t offered any more insight. She felt anything but powerful. She felt weak and helpless. Dean’s voice pulled her out of her own thoughts.

”What's going on, Cas? Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?” Ali had her arms wrapped around her body. She felt cold, but she was sure it wasn’t from the temperature.

Castiel cleared his throat before speaking. “My superiors have begun to question my sympathies.“

Ali and Dean gave each other a look. ”Your sympathies?”

”I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You and Ali. They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgment.” Ali cocked her head to the right and considered what Cas was saying. Cas must have fought against this, risking himself for them.

”Well, tell Uriel, or whoever...you do not want me doing this, trust me.” Cas shook his head.

“Want it, no. But I have been told we need it.”

“You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out.” Castiel sighed. He looked exhausted.

“For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this.” Ali stepped foreword.

“Dean...this won’t be like hell. I’ll be right out here the entire time. I’ll be here to pull you back.” Dean stared at Ali, a little surprised she was okay with him doing it. “Dean...I believe in you. I believe you are so much better than you think you are. You are a good man. The very best that I’ve ever known. You’ve taken care of me for my entire life. If this could possibly help us, I don’t know, stop the seals from being opened, then we’ll find a way to put you back together again. I promise. I will stand by you no matter what.” Dean took a deep breath and exhaled. He kissed Ali on her forehead and turned towards the door.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Cas was sitting next to Ali as they waited and listened. Ali felt like she was going to throw up. She was hoping Dean could get them somewhere. Closer to finding Lilith and stopping her. Maybe if the two of them could do that, Sam would stop whatever it was he was doing with Ruby. Sam was more lost than ever. She felt like she was sacrificing Dean to save Sam, but she meant what she said to him. Dean was the very best man she had ever known. If anyone could pull through it was him.

She and Cas heard Alistair scream. Ali closed her eyes and clenched her jaw and grabbed for Cas’ hand. Cas stared at her wide eyed for a moment. He wasn’t used to physical contact or such strong emotions. Ali felt everything, deeply. She loved her brother and was feeling his pain at the moment. Cas was torn between telling her why she felt things this way and his orders. He was under strict instructions to tell her nothing. She was reaching out to him, the one who was putting her beloved brother through this, for comfort. He could at least give it to her.

He laced his fingers through hers. Her eyes snapped open and she studied his face. It surprised her to say the least. He tended to pull away when she showed strong emotions. He didn’t understand them and didn’t know how to respond. His face was filled with concern, that was unexpected.

“I’m sorry Alianna....for my part in this. I know you’re worried. And I know how important Dean is to you. I promise if this wasn't completely necessary I would have fought against it. Even still, I tried.” She offered Cas a sad smile.

“Don’t apologize. I encouraged him. I just want this to be over so I can get him out of here. Thank you for letting me be here and staying with me. Thank you for caring I know you don't understand human emotion, but Cas, you've shown more compassion than most people I've met. I appreciate that. And I appreciate how much you care about my brother...and me.” Before Cas could respond they heard more groans and screams from Alastair.

Castiel was confused at how her words had impacted him. She and Dean were important to him. He didn't understand what was happening and what was changing within him. Suddenly, the lights started flickering and Ali and Cas moved apart as the bulb exploded and Anna appeared behind Castiel.

"Anna." Castiel was cordial, but his greeting was still strained. Anna gave Ali a small smile.

"Hello Castiel" As Cas turned to face Anna he was overcome by shock at her appearance.

"Your human body-" Anna interrupted him before he could finish.

"It was destroyed, I know. But I guess I'm sentimental."

"You shouldn't be here Anna. We still have orders to kill you." Ali let out a sigh of frustration. She had no interest in listening to Angel politics. Alastair's screams grew louder. Ali held her face in her hands. She just wanted this to be over. She wanted their lives back. She longed for the days that a rogue Wendigo was the worst thing they had to worry about.

Her interest was piqued back to the Angels when she heard Anna question if torturing was God's work. Ali's face scrunched in confusion when Anna mentioned ruining the one real weapon they had. Was Dean a weapon to them? Even with how Cas had been, were they really just pawns to him in the end? Ali stood and started pacing, her mind running in circles. Castiel was still towing the company line while Anna refused to believe that torture and violence was God's will. Ali started really listening again.

"The father you love. You think he wants this? You think he'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous?" Anna was angry almost, and Cas wouldn't look at her. "What you're feeling, it's called doubt!" Ali could understand why this was so hard for Cas. She knew what it was like to doubt your own father, it was a horrible feeling, but there comes a point in time where you have to think for yourself.

Ali felt her stomach churn at another round of screams from Alastair. "These orders are wrong and you know it. But you can do the right thing. You're afraid, Cas. I was too. But together, we can still..." Anna was holding Cas' hand while she spoke. Ali watched as he yanked his hand from her's.

"I am NOTHING like you. You FELL. Go." Anna tried to get him to listen to her further, but he wouldn't and as quickly as she was there, she was gone. Ali considered what Anna had said for a moment and then steeled herself to look in on Dean and what Alastair's condition was, but she was shocked at what she saw. "Oh my God...CAS!!" her voice came out in anguish.

Alastair was out of the Enochian trap and was attacking Dean. Wide eyed, Cas quickly went to Dean's aid, in a blink of her eye, Cas was standing behind Alastair with Ruby's knife. She watched as Alastair dropped her brother to go after Cas. She covered her mouth in horror as the knife barely made a dent into Alastair and rushed into the room to check on Dean as Alastair and Cas continued to fight.

"Dean...Dean! Please wake up." She cried. She never should have pushed him to do this. She should have made Cas bring them back to Sam after Uriel left. Hot tears fell down her cheeks. She looked up when she heard Alastair chanting and cried out for Cas as his eyes and mouth started to glow blue and then suddenly Alastair stopped. Her horror continued as she laid eyes on Sam, with his one hand raised as he flung Alastair to the wall. She watched as Cas slid to the ground, but she didn't dare leave Dean's side, who was still unconscious. Her shock continued as she witnessed how powerful Sam had become. Sam glanced over at Ali and Dean before he started his interrogation.

"Who is murdering the Angels? How are they doing it?" His voice was demanding. Alastair tried to resist Sam, but with a simple twist of his hand, Alastair's eyes had gone white and he was choking. "HOW ARE THE DEMONS KILLING ANGELS?" For the first time in her life, Ali was terrified of her brother. She had never seen him so angry or so dangerous.

"I don't know!" Alastair cried. "It's not us. We're not doing it!" Sam scoffed at the Demon. "Lilith is not behind this. She wouldn't kill 7 angels. She'd kill a hundred, or a thousand. Oh go ahead, send me back if you can." Alastair stupidly challenged her brother. Sam more than accepted his challenge and Ali watched as the life drained out of Alastair's body.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Not long after Sam had killed Alastair, Ali found herself sitting by Dean's bedside in a local hospital. She had no idea what lies Sam had told the staff, but she was sure it was a good one. Dean was bandaged up, with a tube helping him breath and an IV drip. She knew Sam was blaming Cas and trying to force him to heal Dean. Ali blamed herself too. She told Sam it was just as much her fault as it was Cas & Uriel's fault, but he wouldn't hear any of it.

Ali held onto Dean's hand, willing him to wake up. Desperately wanting him to open his eyes and make some stupid remark or disgusting joke to her. She wanted him to tell her he forgave her for pushing him. She jumped when she felt Sam's hand on her shoulder. She no longer saw the ruthless killer that had ended Alastair, but her sweet brother who was filled with compassion.

"He'll be okay Ali. I promise he'll be okay."

"Will he? Because he's going to lose his mind when he finds out what happened. Sammy...how did you do that? How were you able to not exorcise Alastair...but actually kill him?!"

There was a shrillness in her voice. The tone came out when she was in full panic mode.Sam didn't know how to tell her. He didn't want to tell her. He didn't want to see the look of disappointment and disgust in her eyes.

"We'll talk about it later." Ali didn't argue with him. She didn't want to fight with him anymore. She just wanted things to go back to normal, or to whatever was normal for the Winchester children.

"Sam?"

"Yeah Al?"

"I just want you to know that I forgive you...for everything. It was hard for both of us, Dean being gone. We didn't handle it gracefully. I don't want to fight with you. We have a big enough fight coming our way, we don't need to be fighting each other too." Sam sat down next to Ali and took her free hand in his and the two waited for their big brother to wake up.

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starspangledbanner27 · 6 years ago

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**CHAPTER UPDATE - Chapter 1 posted**

Fandom: Saving Mr. Banks (AU)

Description: AU take on the movie, exploring what might have happened if the author of the Mary Poppins books had been someone very different from P. L. Travers. For Carrie Schultz, the chance to collaborate with Walt Disney Studios to bring Mary Poppins from the page to the screen is a dream come true. However, matters grow complicated when animated penguins prove to be a point of contention, a friendly working relationship turns into more than she bargained for, and Carrie struggles to prevent Walt’s team from discovering her own hidden afflictions.

Characters: Carolina “Carrie” Schultz (OC), Don DaGradi, Walt Disney, Richard M. Sherman, Robert B. Sherman, Ralph

Rating: T

Genre: Drama/Romance

Language: English

Read on Fanfiction.net, AO3, Wattpad, or below.

To Laura, Amber, Brittany, and Dr. Riley: Thank you so much for beta-reading my work and providing constructive feedback. This story would not be what it is without your advice and encouragement.

To my mom: Thank you for always being there for me. Posting my work was a big step, and I am immensely grateful for your loving support.

A/N: Readers, please note that as this story is an AU, the first two chapters will focus entirely on OCs. That being said, if you as a reader are like me and prefer to jump straight to the parts involving canon characters, I will direct you to the middle of Chapter 3 (coming soon), in which my main OC meets Ralph at the airport. Either way, I hope you enjoy the story and, of course, leave reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Saving Mr. Banks, Mary Poppins, or any of the characters from those two movies.

Chapter 1

I am seated on a bench in the garden with a pencil held idle in my hand and my notebook lying on my lap, my eyes closed and my face turned upward to the summer sky. A smile curves my lips as a soft breeze comes up out of the west to dance through my hair. Somehow this all seems strangely familiar, yet I can't put my finger on why.

The breeze flutters around for half a minute, tickling my ear and stroking my hair, before leaving a parting kiss on my cheek and flying off toward the east. But no, wait—its farewell was only a playful trick; it has now doubled back around to greet me once more . . . only this time, instead of caressing me gently, it bites my nose and pinches my ears, twirling my hair into a tangle as it careens westward. And then, almost as soon as it returns, it is gone.

Strange, I muse. How odd for a steady west wind to suddenly stop like that and return from the east. Wind's in the east . . . I can't help smiling to myself as I gaze up at the clouds, half expecting a certain British nanny to come floating down out of them carrying a carpet-bag and a parasol. But my thoughts are interrupted by a sharp rapping noise.

Knock-knock-knock!

I glance around, perplexed as to the source of the sound until at last I glimpse a woodpecker hammering away at a nearby tree. I watch him with an inexplicable feeling that he doesn't belong here—that I have been here in this exact moment before, and he hasn't.

Knock-knock-knock!

His persistent tapping disturbs me. I wish he would stop.

Knock-knock-knock!

“Shoo!” I cry; but he carries on with his task, unperturbed and undistracted.

Knock-knock-knock!

I shout at him and wave my arms wildly, but he ignores me.

Knock-knock-knock!

The noise is exasperating. I press my hands over my ears, but it remains as loud and clear as ever. Why will he not cease?! Why can I still hear it?! Why is there no escape?!

Knock-knock-knock!

Knock-knock-knock . . .

Knock-knock-knock!

I ascended out of dreamland long enough to wonder who was at the door, then promptly decided I was too tired to care. Just as I was drifting back to sleep, my sister burst into my bedroom. “Rise and shine, Carrie!”

“Mmph . . . what's going on?” I mumbled.

She threw the curtains open before coming over to kneel beside my bed. “Today's the day, sis. If you don't get up, you'll miss your plane.”

“What plane?”

“You’re going to Los Angeles, remember?”

At that moment it all came back to me—my book, Mary Poppins, Disney—and I sat up frantically, throwing the covers off. “Oh my gosh, I forgot! What time is it?!” I pressed my hand to my forehead, partly in panic and partly because the too-swift motion had given me a throbbing headache.

“Shh . . . relax, Carrie. It's only eight o'clock; you have plenty of time. But you need to get up and get ready now.”

I nodded. “Okay.” I slid forward to the edge of the bed and waited, gathering my strength. My sister watched for several minutes; and finally, when I made no move to stand up, she laid her hand on my back.

“Carrie . . . do you need help?”

“Maybe just a little,” I said without meeting her eyes. I hated asking for help to complete such a simple task; yet at that moment I just didn't have the strength in me. Fortunately, she understood; and without another word, she wrapped her arm around my waist and supported me as I dragged myself to my feet. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“What are sisters for?” she replied with a grin that somewhat alleviated my embarrassment.

She stayed there holding me up long enough to let me find my balance. At last I managed to take a few shaky steps over to my dresser and lean against it as I pulled open the door to my closet. She stood there watching me for several moments, and finally she spoke again.

“Are you okay now if I leave the room so you can get changed?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“All right. I'll be out here if you need anything.” Just as she was opening the door to go out, she paused and turned back to me. “Carrie . . . are you sure you still want to do this? Because you know in Los Angeles I won't be there to help you out of bed.”

Part of me resented her for saying that. I'm not an invalid yet! I wanted to scream. But deep down, I knew she was right. I sighed deeply. “I'll make it somehow. I have to do this, Sam. Otherwise I'll never get the chance. Anyway, it's just the first few minutes of the day that are always the hardest; once I get going, it's not so bad.”

She nodded. “Yeah, okay. I'm going to head downstairs and make breakfast.” But once again she paused and looked at me with soulful eyes. “I love you, sis.”

“Love you too,” I replied, trying and failing to muster a carefree smile. I turned away lest she see the tears in my eyes; and behind me I heard the door close as she exited, leaving me alone. Drawing a shaky breath, I chose a dress from the closet and changed out of my nightgown, noticing with dismay that my body was going through the motions a little more slowly than yesterday or the day before.

As I slipped my dress on over my head, I could hear the clanking of pots and pans down in the kitchen as Sam cooked. The noise made something tickle at the edge of my mind—clanking . . . banging . . . knocking. The woodpecker. The dream.

That dream—it haunted me at least three times a week. I couldn’t escape. The sequence was always the same . . . except this time it had been interrupted by that blasted bird, which I now realized had sprung up as a dream-world manifestation of an actual sound—my sister's knocking on my door to wake me up. I paused for a moment, considering that I ought to be thankful, for I knew what would have happened in the dream if I hadn't woken up. Always the same, exactly as it had been on that first day . . .

No—I would not think about it, not on a day like this. Today, of all days, I should be happy. I am going to Los Angeles . . . the very thought sent a surge of energy through me, and I scurried off to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later, I descended the stairs, the smell of breakfast greeting me as I entered the main part of the house. I stepped into the kitchen just as my sister, who was facing the sink, called out loudly, “Carrie! Are you almost ready?!”

“Hey, Sam,” I replied, amused. She whirled around in surprise.

“Carrie! I thought you were still upstairs! Oh, gosh, I must have blown your ears out.”

“Well, at least they're still attached,” I bantered, but for once she didn't laugh. Instead, she came over and wrapped her arms around me.

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly, her voice betraying that she was close to tears. I pulled away, unable to bear it.

“Sam, since when are you so concerned about my eardrums?” I teased.

“I'm sorry, it's just . . . I don't want to cause you any more pain than you're already . . .”

“It’s okay, sis, nothing to worry about.”

“But—”

“Sam, please. You promised you wouldn’t do this, remember? I told you, I’m fine.”

She nodded, turning back to the counter to wipe her eyes. “Well, anyway, breakfast's up.”

“Ooh, yum!” I exclaimed, eager to change the subject. “What's on the menu this morning?”

“Bacon and pancakes,” she replied. Her voice was still quiet and sad, but I could tell she was trying to conceal it for my sake. “Have a seat at the table, and I'll bring it in.”

“Well, let me help.”

“It's okay, I've got this. You go sit down.”

“Sam . . .”

“You need to focus on getting ready, Carrie,” she said firmly, looking me in the eye, and I knew better than to argue. With a sigh of resignation, I headed into the dining room.

The first thing I noticed as I sat down was that Sam's husband, who always joined us for breakfast, was missing. “Sam,” I called, “where's James?”

“Oh, I sent him outside to check on the car,” she explained, bustling into the room with a plate of steaming pancakes and bacon.

“What's wrong with the car?” I asked as she set the plate down in front of me.

“Nothing, as far as I know,” she replied, “but we can't have you being late to the airport because of car trouble.”

I stared at her. “It's a twenty-minute drive to the airport, and your car is in perfect condition. What's there to worry about?”

“I'm not taking any chances, Carrie. This is your special day, and I won't let anything ruin it.” With that, she marched off to the kitchen, chin held high. Once she left the room, I chuckled to myself and said a quick blessing before beginning to eat.

Just then, I heard the front door open. “Hey, honey, I'm all done!” James called as he shut the door behind him. From where I sat looking through the doorway, I could see him enter the kitchen and lean against the wall, inhaling deeply. “Mmm, what's for breakfast?”

“Pancakes and bacon,” she replied. “How's the car looking?”

“Clean and healthy as always, just like I told you it would be,” he reassured her.

“The tank is full?”

“Yep.”

“You changed the oil?”

“Already did that yesterday.”

“And you checked everything else?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.” He moved to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Sweet Samantha, haven't you learned by now to trust your husband?”

She turned to face him. “A better question is, haven't you learned by now to humor your wife?”

He laughed. “Touché.” They stood there grinning at each other for several moments before he leaned in to kiss her, at which point I decided to remind them of my presence.

“A-he-hem!” I peered through the doorway at them. “Guys, I hate to interrupt, but we do have to be at the airport in an hour.”

They pulled apart and looked over at me sheepishly. “Sorry, sis,” Sam giggled.

I sighed and shook my head in mock exasperation; but truly, I was happy for them. They had something special, something I had always dreamt of . . . and something fate had chosen to deny me. I felt a little twinge of bitterness at the last thought, but I quickly suppressed it. It’s not their fault, I reminded myself. It’s not anyone’s fault.

Before I could dwell any longer on this train of thought, James entered the dining room with a full plate for himself and one for Sam. “So, Carrie, are you excited to spend three weeks in Los Angeles?” he asked as he set them on the table.

“Excited? Yes . . .”

Detecting my slight hesitation, James caught my eye and smiled understandingly. “Nervous?”

“A little,” I admitted.

Sam walked through the doorway just in time to catch the end of our conversation. “What are you nervous about, Carrie?” she asked, laying her hand on my shoulder.

I took a moment to swallow my bite of bacon before answering. “Well, meeting Walt Disney, for one thing. That man’s a walking legend, and I’m just . . . me.” A thirty-year-old author from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, flying halfway across the country to act as consultant for a movie adaptation of my book.

“So?” James asked through a mouthful of pancake.

Sam shot him one of her “you men can be so insensitive” looks before turning back to me. “Oh, Carrie, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about as far as that goes. Remember, underneath all that fame, he's just another human. Don't let yourself be intimidated.”

I gave a half-smile, and she patted my back encouragingly before sitting down to eat. Easier said than done, I thought in regard to her advice. I only prayed everything would go smoothly; for if it didn’t, I doubted I’d have what it took to face down the Mickey Mouse mogul himself.

The three of us finished breakfast with time to spare; and while Sam cleared the table, James headed upstairs and brought down my suitcase and carry-on bag to load in the car. I offered to help with the dishes, but Sam wouldn't hear of it; so instead I went up to fetch my purse and make one last trip to the bathroom.

After washing my hands, I leaned against the sink for a few minutes, staring into the mirror. There I was, about to spend three weeks in Los Angeles helping make my book into a movie, something many authors only dream of; and at that moment, the only thought in my head was—am I up to this? The Carrie in the mirror stared back at me, her eyes full of doubts and questions; but before I could give either of us a definitive answer, I heard Sam call from the bottom of the stairs. “Carrie! You ready to go?!”

Taking a deep breath, I stood up straight and squared my shoulders. “Coming!” I replied; and without further hesitation, I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs.

Tag list… let me know if you want to be added or removed! @iwillalwaysreturm | @writings-of-a-narwhal | @24hourshipping

#ocappreciation #ocapp #my fanfics #oc: carrie schultz #fic: city of angels #saving mr banks #disney #fanfiction

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rubixa-seraph · 5 years ago

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11 Questions About Me

Tagged by @gentle-outlaw

Sorry this took me a while to get to! Mobile sucks!

1. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the 3rd line on that page?

Kurt nodded.

- Halo; Ghosts of Onyx

I’m totally not done reading this book because I keep playing video games instead.

2. What is your happiest memory and why?

I am... having a very hard time answering this question. It’s not that I haven’t felt happy before, but there is nothing that I can remember so pointedly to be the “happiest.” I am generally happiest when I have good food that I want, so it might as well be any time I am eating food that typically comes out a bit expensive. It’s not good because it’s expensive; it’s expensive because I’m poor.

3. Do you have any OC's (for fanfiction or totally original)? If so, describe them or if you have more than one, describe your favorite one!

[[MORE]]

I do and I can’t just describe one without the other. Through some manner of world building and RP and various factors, one character became two...

Roy King and Evan King are effectively a set of twin characters, though originally one was a “copy” of another. I stick them into a lot of fan content for fun but they do have their own standalone little world bubble I’ve built where they have an original setting.

Roy is the elder brother, typically stern, demanding, and somewhat testy. He is very closed off and trusts very few with his emotions, and in any given new relationship being established, he expects the other party to prove themselves to him, first, before he will extend his goodwill in kind. He takes loyalty very seriously, thus he is picky about who he will trust; and if you deliberately backstab him, you’ll be sorry. Across different settings, Roy is often represented with the motif of bugs, especially that of bees/hornets/wasps and also the scorpion. Sweet and giving of what he has when he trusts you, and a downright bastard when angered or agitated... and depending on the setting setting he’s in, he chooses lethality as a means to deal with traitors. In his original setting, he is a fae war-king of a fictional fae court that is a fae imagining of honey-bee fae. The war-king part is that he is the strongest offense and defense of the Hive, and the Queen is the only one that holds sway over him.

Evan King is the younger twin. Instead of being more withdrawn, he wears most of his emotions and his heart on his sleeve. He’s a bit of a romantic, and it shows. He’s also one to walk away from most troubles instead of contesting against them, but he can still get snarky and profess his dislike before crossing any lines. Many a time he has to focus on preventing Roy from actually trying to follow through on a threat or a fight. Across different settings, Evan is often represented with motifs of birds, especially that of the legendary Phoenix. Bright, somewhat elusive, resilient and positive after conflict even if it still had hurt him, and focuses a lot on healing others, especially his brother. He’s also a bit of a daring troublemaker and a kleptomaniac (with boundaries.) In his original setting, he’s an avian “god” (patron) whose two major traits are treasure-collecting and a perchance to adopt stray youths. Bring him “offerings” or gifts (even actions of goodwill) and he leaves no debt unpaid to you. He is good with children, if not a bit coddling.

4. Who is your all time favorite fictional character and why?

It’s hard to think back on this but I would say Roy Mustang from FMA. It’s a bit hard to describe but the hero worship is strong. Though never explicitly explained in the manga itself, he stood out among his peers, not just from skill alone, which he had gained through blood and sweat both, but also that he certainly did not look to be of the same race as the majority of Amestrians you see. As someone who is Asian growing up in America, this character meant a lot to me just for the nature of him existing in the position that he had, with the burdens that he had; and the perseverance was something that I hung on to.

5. What do you find yourself thinking about the most?

How tired I always am and how I’m always in need of looking for a distraction. Also I want tea and cake and pastries and yummy food... I grew up a bit wealthy before my family fell apart so I catch myself often missing the luxuries that I had. I know it makes me sound terrible but look... I miss it, okay? It was a part of my life growing up but then all the lies my family fed me came crumbling down and that wasn’t my fault...

6. Look out your nearest window and describe what you see!

It’s still super early in the morning. It’s cloudy today. I see the back parking lot of the gas station across from my apartment. Cars are going to and fro for the morning commute to work, and there is a garbage collection truck pulling in near the dumpster.

7. What makes you feel nostalgic?

Piano music. A long time ago I was a pianist; concert level. I performed on stage, small and local as they were. But my family didn’t want me to actually pursue music. What a waste of my talents...

8. You have two hours left on earth, how do you spend them?

Eat good food. Okay, I might have stress eating issues...

9. What's your favorite sound?

I could have so many different answers to this but the sound that really gets me grinning on the inside is that low-toned whistle someone does when they are impressed at something cool or awesome. The context matters; something interesting has to have happened for that sound to be pleasant for me. (Thinking back to “Hellsing Ultimate” when Alucard fought Luke Valentine.)

10. What was the first fandom you were involved in?

I guess it was digimon.

I can’t say I truly had a great time being there and I’m glad I have stepped away from it now.

11. Describe your idea of a perfect day!

On a good day I would wax poetic but... I’m very very tired today.

I want a warm cup of milk tea and a lazy day in bed while playing my favorite MMO and listening to a podcast of a guy with a good narrative voice read classic short stories. Which is exactly what I’m going to do today after a good nap. :)

I tag: @apurplemoth @squeakybat

Questions:

1. Favorite art technique that you do, or favorite thing(s)/part(s) to draw.

2. A skill you would like to learn?

3. Anything you like to study the most at your leisure?

4. Favorite childhood picture book?

5. Every been on a plane or ship/boat?

6. If you could be something not-human, be it animal or mythical creature, what would you envision yourself being?

7. Favorite constellation?

8. Preferred toppings on a pizza? (I won’t judge; I do white sauce with sausage, mushrooms, and pineapples OR cranberries, so...)

9. A song that comes to mind this very moment, on whim.

10. Preferred fashion for yourself?

11. A character you really like at the moment, and maybe why?

#rubixa-seraph #ask #tag

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dreadhaus-literature · 5 years ago

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{A/N} Waiting on the Sun to Rise.

Oh how I wish that ol’ sun would rise~♫

youtube

I wrote a bit. {Points down.} It’s nothing special, 2nd POV just ‘cause idk what’s going on with anything again and it feels weird to try and write dedicated pieces when stuff’s off. {Waves a hand in a circle.} Said it before, but this time I’m trying not to let it keep me from writing. Used to use that as an excuse to not write or do anything but I keep saying if I keep that up I’ll literally never do anything and I’m in my 30′s, now.

I’m ready to do stuff. And so I’m gonna do stuff.

I’ve been reading “The Writer’s Process” by Anne Janzer, which was recommended to authors who want to know how to prep for writing seriously, sort of like a “how to get started writing novels” 101 book. It had really good reviews on Amazon and I’m on Chapter Five right now. It’s only about 200 pages long, if that, but it’s honestly really useful. It’s got good tips on balancing work/personal life with trying to write (like you have to actually dedicate time to write, can’t just expect to write a novel on wishful thinking) or how to help stimulate creativity. It includes tidbits and tips from psychologists who have done studies on the best way to tackle creative processes like writing so you can get the most out of your writing; it’s really been a helpful tool. The chapter I’m on right now talks about tackling procrastination, lmao, and how to self-discipline--which I have said is one of my biggest problems. I make excuses, I find reasons to not write, I let myself get distracted, but I’ve been saying all year I’m tired of looking back on the year before and spying all the wasted time and just sighing @ myself.

There’s no excuse other than me being lazy and/or making excuses. The older I get, the less forgiving I get with myself about it.

My 20′s I am now realizing was really not a good time for me to try and get published, I’m sort of allowing myself a pass because now that I’m out of that decade, I realize I was working through a lot of shit. I was still dealing with abuse into my late 20′s and while no one’s life is perfect I recognize that I wasn’t in a good enough headspace to dig deep and write well. My emotions are 97% of my writing and they weren’t right. Now that I’m in a better place in all aspects (still working on the living situation, but got less than a year to go, there) I can shelve the self-reflective work and start trying to make something of this talent and imagination I’ve got.

I don’t really know where this aggressive, “I am going to write.” mojo has come from. I mean I’ve always, always known I wanted to be an author but it was sort of a hobby more than a career. I wasn’t taking it seriously and there’s probably lots of reasons for that--

1. Was dealing with depression and teetering on finding any self-worth enough to try to make something of myself. 2. Been told from a young age that I was not good enough and to give up/not bother trying because I won’t make it. 3. Afraid of failure and the resulting, “I told you so”‘s.

So yeah. I just hid behind fanfiction and sprinkling my OC’s and plotlines through fandom work, which allowed me to express what I wanted to express without fear of failure or putting myself out there. But that’s not enough, at least...I don’t know. I’ll always have a heavy preference for writing for FL and Monica and stuff, but I treat that like...hm. Almost like a treat? It’s a treat for me. To give something of myself to someone I love very much. Her reactions will always be my favorite.

Stepping outside of that, though, fanfiction stopped being enough for me a number of years ago. It was too confining, I had so many ideas and characters and themes and stuff I wanted to put out there that I didn’t want to work in a confined space anymore. Y’know that saying, “Of course you’re uncomfortable and unhappy where you are--you’ve grown, you’ve changed, you are no longer that person. It’s time to move on.”

I feel that.

It was like wearing a pair of shoes that were too small. Yes, I could wear them and get somewhere, but not the distance I needed, and wanted to go. My hopes of being published haven’t gone away. I’m scared to try still, lol, I know my writing’s good, it’s the one thing I know I’m good at, but the way I want to do it is different than the norm. In a way, selfishly, I feel like Christine. She was one of the only people writing paranormal romance when she started, and she’s said how she had to push and push to get her publisher to take a chance on her work, that she knew she had something good and she didn’t give up on it. And now, we have the Carpathians. ♥ I’m somewhat in the same boat with wanting to write 2nd POV. I’m totally capable of making a heroine and giving her a name and backstory but I know what I like to read when I read fanfiction. 2nd POV. It’s more personal, it resonates, and tbh it helped me through some really difficult parts of my life. I want to return that to my readers. To give them that personal immersion that 2nd POV provides. But those aren’t the books that are published.

I’m getting ahead of myself. I don’t have a novel finished or anything, lmao. I just, it’s one of my fears. That I’ll write this novel in 2nd POV and not be able to get it published...but I suppose I should cross the first part of that particular problem before anything else. Can’t fret about being published if there ain’t shit TO publish, DOT.

I’ve got a few novel ideas. Milano hasn’t gone away, lol. He still lurks about, like he’s just waiting for me to get my ass in gear and actually write his book properly.

...I really did sort of just use Yu Yu Hakusho to sort of write my own practice novel of Milano’s, lmao, if I’m being honest. I mean I did also want to go the hipster route and write for Yusuke because he was so under-loved in the community and I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t subjugating favoritism but truthfully I wanted to let Milano loose. I was proud of him, proud of the story and world I’d created around him, and I needed an outlet for it and was too young to know what to do with what I had. Was fucking 18 years old, fresh out of high school, and in way over my head honestly. Now that I’m matured, older, and my ADHD isn’t kicking my brain around like a pinball machine, I think I can do him proper justice.

So yes, Milano, I will still be writing your novel. Just uh, don’t ask me when. Baby steps.

I also have Bram’s story that I wrote 20 some odd pages of outline and prep work on, that I fully intended to novelize. And I still think I have something there, so hold onto your obsession, Bram. You’re up on the board, too.

The most recent idea I had was for a series of novels, called Help Wanted. It actually started from the most recent story I wrote for Monica, where she delivered those specialized herbs to Milano. I essentially work in a service industry and it got me thinking about how I like to take care of people, that you don’t typically see that in romance novels. Usually the heroine is the one being taken care of and while I won’t object to that, I also like to do the taking care of. And it’s not an itch I get to scratch a lot, when I read. So I have been tossing around this series of novels where the heroine of each book is a caregiver of some sorts, taking care of the love interest in some way, shape, or form.

For example, the idea I came up with today was for a human nanny (the reader) who gets hired by a vampire to take care of his child after his wife was staked/murdered. The vampire is hopeless as a father and needs all the help he can get, and his child needs a proper caregiver. The nanny comes highly recommended and to make matters worse, when shown a list of potential caregivers the child picks her out of all the other candidates. The vampire is wary of allowing a human in his home but he’s rewarded when his little one flourishes under the love and attention the new nanny brings. Can the vampire come to trust and love one of the very same who killed his late wife?

Another idea I had was for a bubbly housekeeper/caregiver who comes to care for a depressed zombie/undead. The undead can barely take care of themselves and the caregiver was hired by a Wellness Committee, who keep tabs on supernaturals (think like child or elder protective services). The undead wants nothing to do with life but can’t die--but maybe, just maybe, with a little bit of TLC from their caregiver they can learn to live again. Happily, with the one who truly saved their soul.

Obviously don’t judge me too harshly, I’m literally like two days into this idea, lmao. It’s rough around the edges, like super rough, but it’s something that speaks to me. It’d be sort of like the Carpathians as in like, a shared universe, with all sorts of different love interests per novel--it’d be paranormal so there’d be monsters and demons and ghosts, weres and mers and just--maybe even superheroes! Or that could be a spin-off series or just--

See it’s just a lot and it’s all brand new and I’m still working all this out.

BUT! What’s exciting to me is that I have ideas, still. I still want to write, I’m still living in this creative, imaginary headspace and I’m still wanting to share that world. I think I’ll just always be this person, and that’s not a complaint. I’m glad. Imaginary places got me through my childhood and tbh it’s what’s getting me through this hectic shit we call adulthood.

I’ve been saying, all year, that I’m going to keep going and I’ll probably keep saying it. I’m still working a lot of stuff out, still figuring out my writing process and I need to get back to writing every day (I did it for the first three months of the year so I know I can do it) so that when the time comes for me to sit down and write for Milano, for Bram, for Help Wanted--

That I’ll still be ready to go. 💕

#{A/N} : commentary #{A/N} : ideas

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