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stark-tony · 3 years

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today is my 22nd birthday so i’m celebrating by reccing 22 of my favorite fics and giving my general thoughts about them.

atla

i'm still here by owedbetter (77.7, T, zutara) "You see me."And somehow, that makes all the difference.

thoughts: One of the first zutara fics i ever read and it’s still one of my absolute favorites. The characterization of all of the characters is superb and the gradual development of zuko and katara’s relationship is amazing.

such selfish prayers by andromeda3116 (47.6k, T, zutara) Katara's ambition, so long set aside for the good of others, breaks free and sets fire to her soul. Or, Katara has a vision of her canon future, casts it aside, and becomes a world-changing politician instead.

thoughts: while this fic is a zutara fic, the majority of this fic is centered on katara and her helping rebuild the world after the war and it does an astounding job of portraying just that. and honestly this probably has my favorite characterization of katara i’ve ever read in a fic.

Southern Lights by colourwhirled (501.8k, M, zutara) A world where the Avatar has disappeared from memory. Where Sozin’s Conquest was successful. Where the unsteady order of the empire is threatened as members of the royal family are picked off one by one and lines are slowly drawn in the sand.One last chance for peace forces an unlikely alliance between a homesick waterbender, a carefree Air Nomad, a runaway Earth Kingdom heiress, and the fire lord's inscrutable son. Together they must learn to shed old enmities and become the balance they seek to restore to the world.OR:The avatar has four heads.x[[Chapter 4: "And always, his eyes, cautiously watching her. Even when he thinks she isn’t looking. It drives her mad"]]

thoughts: when i say i was unable to put this fic down i genuinely mean that. like i’m pretty sure i was hooked from the very first chapter and i never looked back.

bnha

stickers and stars by aloneintherain (1.9k, G, gen) “Aizawa, are you sure I’m the best person for this job? There are a lot more qualified people on campus. People who have been teachers for years, and—”As All Might spoke, Midoriya Izuku crawled the length of the couch, ducked under All Might’s arm, and made himself comfortable on his lap. All Might’s hands rose into the air, as though unsure of what to with his arms now that he had a toddler curled against his stomach like a cat seeking the warmth of its owner.“Um,” All Might said.

thoughts: is it not enough to say ‘baby deku’ and leave it at that?

Butterfly by aconstantstateofbladerunner (198.8k, T, gen) The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home. But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air. But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.Or rather, what finds him.

thoughts: it’s incredibly well written and the horror aspect is so good. also the dad might in it is top tier.

villain eradication plan 5C: let them attack budding heroes mothers, wait appropriate time for mother to defeat them (3.4k, G, toshinko) Targetting the civilian families of hero students should be cakewalk. Pity they decided to go with Inko first.Or the one where Inko accidentally defeats the League of Villains.

thoughts: this fic is basically inko accidentally being a badass and it’s as hilarious and awesome as it sounds

see it all in bloom by aloneintherain (57.2k, T, tododeku, kiribaku, momojirou, bullying) Midoriya looked over the occupants of the room with butter soft eyes. “We should do this again. Seeing everyone in one place … it’s like we’re back in school again.”Todoroki said, “It feels like a family reunion.”(Social media fic, counting down the five months to Class 1-A's ten year reunion.)

thoughts: this series deals with social media + the lives of class 1a after they become pro heroes and it is amazing.

remember from here on in by aloneintherain (8.1k, G, gen) Aizawa glances from All Might to Midoriya quickly. It sounds impossible—he’s never heard of a quirk that can be handed down like a family heirloom—but at the same time, it makes perfect sense. Midoriya’s inability to use his quirk at the start of the year. The strange, familial relationship between All Might and Midoriya. The slow malnourishment of All Might’s body, like his power was being siphoned away.“You’re …” Aizawa begins.“I’m All Might’s successor.” Midoriya’s proud but shaky voice rings clearly down the empty corridor.Aizawa finds out about One for All.

thoughts: this fic deals with one for all being revealed to aizawa + midoriya getting more quirks and it is amazing

could i but teach the hundredth part by terra_incognita (5.2k, G, gen) Ito Matsu knows three things about her neighbor, Mr. Yagi: he's very skinny, he's very kind, and he has enough children to overthrow the Japanese government.Or:All Might is retired, but his former students keep coming up with reasons to visit.

thoughts: this fic is so lovely and i adore it so much

mcu

the talk by parkrstark (3.1k, pepperony) “Wait, man, what’re you doin’?” Rhodey asked, leaning forward.“Giving the kid his talk before he goes off to college.” Duh.Rhodey blinked. “At 3am when you’re probably too drunk to even spell your name, months before he actually has to leave?”“Yeah.”Rhodey blinked again. “Okay.”

thoughts: this fic is absolutely hilarious and poor peter is suffering throughout all of it

call you home by Madelinedear (19k, G, pepperony) sometimes family is who you're born with.and sometimes family is a spider boy, a rich not-dad, and a kickass aunt.(or; tony, may, and peter find a place in each other's lives)

thoughts: to me, this fic is the tony may co-parenting fic. like i honestly don’t think that anything can ever top it

I Never Lived 'Til I Lived In Your Light by losingmymindtonight (38.4k, T, pepperony, character death) As the world shifts to make space for Morgan Stark, everyone around her shifts, too. (As it turns out, this also includes Peter Parker's sleep schedule.)

thoughts: this fic is both fluffy goodness and heartwrenching angst and it handles both beautifully.

Lazarus, come forth by iron_spider (47.9k, T, pepperony) Tony's mind is a chaotic mess but he remembers the moment—remembers his death, remembers the red hot pain and Peter screaming, Rhodey rushing to his side. How he knew he’d never see Pepper again—but they’d fixed it. They’d fixed the world, erased the lost time, set things right—and the kid was back. The kid was crying, the kid hated him for doing what he did, but he was back. He was alive.Tony Stark was dead. But now he’s breathing again, trying to think, gasping, hands tracing the box surrounding him, covering him, suffocating him.He’s in a coffin. He’s under the ground. He’s under the fucking ground.(Tony Stark dies defeating Thanos. But then he comes back to life. He has to find out how, why, and how to live again. And how to deal with the changes in the people he's coming back to.)

thoughts: although this fic was written and finished pre-endgame but to me this fic is the fix-it fic for film.

Identity Saga by KitCat992 (400.7k, T, pepperony) An organically developed, platonic slow-burn of Avengers-fam dynamic with a heavy hand of Irondad & Spiderson. Throw in an overdose of whump, a couple of cunning villains and a big-bad hiding in the shadows, and you got yourself this hot mess.

thoughts: i just love the avengers dynamic in this series and the whump is medically accurate which is amazing.

college applications: the biggest meme by sagemb (3.3k, T, pepperony) Tony covered his face with both hands and screamed very gently. “Can I just bribe the school to let Peter in?"

thoughts: this series is absolutely hilarious and i love it

The Changeling + Armistice Series by Annerb (586.6k, M, hinny, rape) Ginny is sorted into Slytherin. It takes her seven years to figure out why.

thoughts: this fic is absolutely golden and i adore it so so much. the characters are so well written and the worldbuilding in this fic is fantastic and it actually has an original aspect of hogwarts (aka the parlor) that i practially consider to be canon at this point. also the depiction of slytherin house + house unity in this fic is just *chef’s kiss*

boy with a scar by dirgewithoutmusic (208.7k, T, hinny, romione, jily) A series of "what if" rewrites of Harry Potter, books 1-7. Cross-posted from tumblr (ink-splotch).

thoughts: every single one of these fics are exquisitely written and i wish that i could experience the beauty of this series again for the very first time.

Hogwarts, to welcome you home by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger) (11.1k, G, ginny) “You understand, Professor,” Harry began, after a moment, “that I don’t have my N.E.W.T.s. I never even finished seventh year. Between everything, I never had a chance the first time around, and then afterwards there didn’t seem to be much point. Hermione argued for it, of course, but I was so tired of Britain. So technically, I am completely unqualified for the position.”“Quite a way to begin an interview, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, dryly.Or, three years after the war, Harry Potter becomes Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

thoughts: this is my favorite harry as dada professor i’ve ever read. no doubt about it

And the Unethical Binding Contract by justafandomfollower (14.6k, G, gen) AU. What if the Triwizard Tournament took place in Harry's first year, not his fourth?

thoughts: this fic is beautifully written and i love the relationship that forms between harry, cedric, krum, and fleur.

Regulus Black and the Way Things Changed: A Not!Fic by imaginary_golux (8.8k, T, wolfstar) What if Regulus Black, and not Severus Snape, ended up being the turncoat Potions Master of Hogwarts?A not!fic written in bullet points, ignoring the Deathly Hallows entirely because they annoy me.Beta by my immensely patient Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw, and by the delightful starbirdrampant.

thoughts: this fic may be ooc at some points but it’s so funny that that makes up for it

spn

Broadway Musical by Griftings (12.5k, M, destiel) This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

thoughts: this fic is quite possibly the single most funniest thing i have ever read. like i was straight up cackling when i was reading some of the scenes.

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1 million+, E, destiel) There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

--Harry Takes the Field by bratfarrar (AO3 link here.)

thoughts: this fic is an absolute work of art. the characterization dean and cas and all of the ocs is astounding the world building is immaculate and the writing is so detailed and in depth. a fair warning though to the first time reader as this fic can get very confusing at times but trust me it is worth it.

#mcu recs #atla recs #hp recs #bnha recs #spn recs #my fic recs #bullying tw #rape tw

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scifrey · 4 years

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2019 Writing Round Up

The new year is here, and with it everyone is talking about what they wrote this past year. The last quarter of 2019 was a brutal rollercoaster for me, emotionally and personally, so it’s good for me to have the chance to sit here and reflect on what I accomplished and the good things that happened too.

2019 started with receiving a grant from the Toronto Arts Council for The Maddening Science – said grant went to research materials for the novel, a new computer, printer, and keyboard, and paying off some debts. But 2019 also started in a place of utter burn-out, having slammed through writing, editing, and publishing five big novels in three years, as well as rewriting a feature film and completing the scripts for three seasons of a webseries.

I was also working two dayjobs – one first thing in the morning, for an hour and a half, and then a standard eight-hour shift in the evenings which got me home at around 10pm – so my sleep schedule was a mess and I was having trouble not only making time to write, but concentrating when I did have the time.

I started the year in a place of complete exhaustion and mild frustration that neither of my book series had really caught on, and as my agent once said, “burned out from tried to break out.” I’m not happy to say that I think I still occupy that place a full year later; but I’ve had the opportunity to rest more, and begin to refill my creative well again, and to reclaim my writing space by no longer needing a roommate.

I’m not quite there yet – turns out finishing two series in four years really takes it out of you – but maybe in a few more months I’ll be ready to sit down and begin to spin out a new novel. In the mean time, I’ve got lots of irons in the fire, as you’ll see.

January

The first third of 2019 was dedicated to rewriting The Skylark’s Sacrifice a second time. I’d rewritten it in the last third of 2018 and my editor ended up agreeing that while the rewrite was exactly what she asked for, we should not have gone down that street in the first place. It was what was asked of me, but it didn’t work. So I took it back to the drawing board, and started the re-write all over again.

I also published WORDS FOR WRITERS: The DO-ING Trap.

I finished the edits/polish on A Woman of the Sea, which I had begun in October 2018 and loaded the book onto Wattpad in preparation for serializing it.

February

I spent February rewriting and jobhunting. I tried to write a short story and Did Not Do Well. It’s half done and likely to end up on the Pile Of Unfinished Tales.

At least I got some new words on the page with WORDS FOR WRITERS – Beta Readers.

And I began releasing A Woman of the Sea a chapter at a time on Valentine’s Day.

March

I completed the Skylark rewrites and handed them over to Reuts Publications. I also published WORDS FOR WRITERS – From Signing to Signing.

At this point I tried to start The Maddening Science, the book I received a Toronto Art’s Council Grant for in 2018, and bashed out a few chapters and a few scenes. But something was off about it, and I couldn’t pinpoint why, so I kept going into the file and only put a few hundred words in here and there. I couldn’t really sit down and dig in, and because I don’t believe in Writer’s Block as a mystical magical reason for why people can’t write (there are always reasons), I had to step back to try to figure out why I was struggling. I assumed it was probably because I was in the middle of job interviews and decided to try again later.

April

I started a new copywriting job, leaving my other two dayjobs, and it sucked up all my brainpower and creativity and made it very hard to want to sit down and compose yet more words at the end of the day.

I resumed working piecemeal on The Maddening Science, pecking out what I could one molasses-slow sentence at a time. I realized that the incidents in the news regarding the current political comment and the toxic white supremacist misogyny that is rampant in our society today has made it very hard to figure out how to tell a responsible story about a supervillain as the protagonist.

I’m still working on that. In the mean time, while I figure out how to restructure the tale, the book and the progress blog are on hiatus.

May

Still brain-dead from work, I only managed to bash out WORDS FOR WRITERS: How do social media and writing/publishing work together?

June

There were some final edits on The Skylark’s Sacrifice to be discussed, but I really did nothing this month beyond marketing pushes and watching all the webseries I judged for TOWebfest.

July

The director of my feature film, To a Stranger, was going to start shopping the script around to executive producers, so before he did that I got some actorfriends together to do a table read. The read, and their feedback, revealed some character motivation gaps in the film, and I set about organizing their notes and figuring out how to solve the issues.

I also wrote and published WORDS FOR WRITERS – How To Write a Synopsis.

This was also the month of TOWebfest, the festival itself, and I spent a lovely day with fellow creators and spoke to some executive producers about my own webseries to try to garner interest.

I was a guest at Pretty Heroes Con for the first time and LOVED it. It’s great to celebrate strong female leads in SF/F and I loved Sailor Moon as a kid, so I was in nostalgic nirvana. It was lovely to introduce those Girl Power-loving fans to The Skylark’s Saga.

August

I restructured and rewrote To a Stranger, added extra characters and extra scenes to clear up some character motivation in the screenplay. It’s now back with the director and I hope to hear that he’s got a production house and an Exec attached to the project soon.

I appeared at FanExpo Toronto to do some panels, sell some books, and judged the short fiction contest. I also wrote and published WORDS FOR WRITERS: How to Create a Pitch Package.

September

The Skylark’s Sacrifice was published! Yay! I had a wonderful launch party at Bakka Phoenix, and got to simultaneously launch the incredible book trailer for the duology animated by Elizabeth Hirst to a song by Victor Sierra. Friends Adrianna Prosser and Eric Metzloff, and Danforth Brewery made it extra special.

I also got to read at Word on the Street, which was been a career-long dream, reading on the new Across the Universe Stage.

However, September was also the month when I lost the copywriting job. I saw it coming, so I was shocked when it happened and how it went down, but not surprised. I wasn’t fitting in well with the team, the original project I had been hired for had been vetoed by the execs, work was being taken away from me and given to freelancers, and I didn’t have the training they wanted (though that makes me wonder why they hired me in the first place.) In retrospect it’s been a blessing, as the workplace was not at all a good fit for me and was slowly becoming toxic, but at the time it was a devastating blow to my confidence and my coffers.

Just a few days after I was fired, on my 37th birthday, I won a Watty Award for A Woman of the Sea. Happy birthday to me! I was offered a place among the Wattpad Stars program and accepted – and wow, is there a lot of paperwork for that – and I’m still trying to figure out what benefits the program offers. (Though I’m pretty chuffed with my free Canva Premium subscription!) A Woman of the Sea was featured on the home page as an Undiscovered Gem and as of today has about 82k reads. Whoa!

I also wrote and published WORDS FOR WRITERS: How to Plan a Series.

October

I spent most of the month sleeping and crying and working through how I felt about getting fired. When one identifies oneself as a writer, to finally get a job in writing was a thrill and felt like a confirmation that although I was struggling with my next book, I was a writer and I’d get through it. Being fired from the job – even though the reason was an exec decision to eliminate my project and thus my role – felt like a very personal blow. I wasn’t a writer after all. (Or at least, that’s what it felt like).

This had me thinking long and hard. Especially about where I wanted my writing career to go next – as much I’ve been writing in the realm of SF/F the past decade, I’ve begun to realize that was I really am is a Character-Driven Romance writer. Romance set in spec fic and fantasy realms, sure, but Romance and Character Work are my wheelhouse and how I should be selling myself.

This realization has been pretty freeing because it means that the frustrations and roadblocks I’ve been coming up against can maybe be dissolved by reframing my brand and rethinking my career map.

Wattpad added the sample of City By Night that’s on Wattpad to their Halloween Reads list on the homepage and I decided to put the whole novella up on the site for people to read. Read it now, though. It won’t stay up forever as the eBook rights to the novel are signed with an indie publisher. This is just a limited-time promotion.

And knowing that readers were asking what I would be posting next on Wattpad after A Woman of the Sea, I rejigged Triptych for the site and started serializing it from the start. You can read it here. This story also won’t stay up forever, for the same reason.

I also started serializing Words for Writers on Wattpad. I won’t be copying over all 75+ articles I have on my website, just the ones that are specifically useful for Watties.

I also polished a webseries and sent it to a producer with a major broadcaster after our convo at TOWebfest for consideration. I’ve followed up but there’s no reply. I’ll follow up again in January 2020 but I can pretty well assume that No Answer is my ‘No’ Answer.

I am thinking about maybe pitching it as a graphic novel in the future, though I’m going to have to reach out to my friends who write them for publishers to figure out how to put at pitch together.

November

In 2017 I handed over a YA contemporary re-telling of “Northanger Abbey” to my agent, and it was lukewarmly received by both her and the handful of editors she showed it to. It was then shelved for possible future reworking.

In the first part of the NaNoWriMo month, I decided to tackle this reworking, and I was still wrestling mentally with The Maddening Science. This reworking was inspired a lot by reading Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston in October, and realizing that the tone I’d been going for with my narrator hadn’t been irreverent or GenZ-y enough for the story I was trying to tell, and not grounded enough in the technologies and social media that my modern-day Catherine Morland would have access to.

I reworked the Pitch Document for the novel, now currently called “Title TBA”, and got to chapter seven during NaNo. I’ve got some thinking to do about structure for the novel, and how far into using Social Media As A Storytelling Tool I want to go with the idea, but generally speaking I’m pretty pleased with the result of the rewrites.

Partway through NaNo, it occurred to me that there was another story that my Wattpad readers were asking for, and one that would be a lot of fun to write. In A Woman of the Sea, my fictional Regency-era Jane-Austen-analogue authoress Margaret Goodenough writes her debut novel “The Welshman’s Daughters”. As I describe this non-existent novel in A Woman of the Sea, it’s a gothic romance that’s very Elizabeth Gaskell-and-Jane Austen-esque in terms of it being a character study driven romance, with some of the fun high melodrama and gothic tone of Anne Radcliffe. And, in the world of A Woman of the Sea, it’s the first queer kiss in Classic Western Literature.

A handful of readers have asked where they can find this book, or have confessed to going to the library to ask for it, only to learn that it’s not real. I made it up.

And I thought… well, why not make it real?

So I’m working on the pitch doc and the first chapter now, to see if a) this is something I want to pursue and b) this is something that will help me break through my burn-out slump. I hope it will, but I think I still need to take time to rest before I really push into it.

And I still have the “Title TBA” rewrites to complete.

December

I published WORDS FOR WRITERS: How Do I Get An Agent?, and spent the rest of the month just trying to chill. I’ve become a bit of a reluctant reader, so I am trying to push myself to read a little each day, to remind myself why I fell in love with storytelling in the first place.

A Woman of the Sea was turned down for Paid Stories, unfortunately, because of the structure of the romance. The Stars Team explained that romance stories like this one, with one romantic partner in the first half of the book, and a different one in the second (a la Brigit Jones’ Diary) doesn’t tend to do well on Paid because readers are reluctant to shell out for a romance where they don’t meet the HEA partner until later. It’s heartbreaking to hear, because I was really hoping that this might become a viable stream of income for me. At least the team who turned it down were very kind and expressed how much they loved the story in and of itself.

But no matter – onwards and upwards!

What’s ahead for 2020

Well, I’m not sure. This has been a really, really difficult year and I have really, really struggled with trying to figure out who I am and what I want, both in life and as a writer.

Certainly, there will be lot of hard thinking about the future of my writing career. I have ideas that I love and want to pursue, but this post-firing-return-to-the-job-hunt-depression is killing my desire to create. And honestly, the fact that I’ve worked so hard for so many years and haven’t managed to get any sort of break-through or cultural foothold or ability to even really to pay my bills with this job is disheartening. I’m still paying more in marketing every year than I’m making in Royalties.

However, I have some new opportunities on the horizon – conversations happening behind closed doors, as well as Divine Paradox Films still working toward filming To A Stranger, and Alpaca vs Llama shopping The Skylark’s Song as a teens animated series. And the webseries I wrote is under consideration with a new production team, so I can keep my fingers crossed.

Who knows, perhaps the rewritten “Title TBA” might be just the thing to propel my work into a realm where I’m really earning money. Though I had originally envisioned it as the first of a series, the more I work and think on it, the more I feel like it would be best as a stand-alone. I think it would slap a lot harder if it was a one-off.

And I am genuinely liking the plot of The Welshman’s Daughters, and all the research reading and viewing I am doing to get the tone and mood of the book right (please recommend me your favourite Gothic Romances – film, TV, or books!)

But I’m not going to rush anything. It’s nice to be able to remember how to putter with a book and have no looming, razor-blade deadlines hanging over my neck.

2020 will be, I hope, a year of renewed creativity, motivation, and the year where I complete at least one of the three novel projects I’ve started.

For now, I think I’m going to go have a nap.

If you want to stay up to date with my writing and happenings, sign up for my newsletter.

#J.M. Frey #about the author #words for writers #writing round up #2019 writing round up #writing #writing community #writeblr

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pencils-and-ponies · 5 years

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We Forget how to Walk 2018

Since I’m currently in the process of rewriting We Forget how to Walk, I figured I would post the original chapters (that I have, since I never finished the first draft...).

I’ll try to tag things as needed when they come up, but do be aware this story will eventually have graphic injury description and animal death.

CHAPTER ONE

“You waitin' on the ferry?”

Looking up from the horizon, I saw an older man approaching me. He looked to be in his late seventies, and had a kind face that had been left lined and weathered by decades spend on the ocean. Jerking a thumb over my shoulder into the bed of my truck, loaded down with all my belongings, I nodded.

“Moving to Specter Island today.”

He turned the face the ocean and smiled faintly, a look that conveyed a sense of fondness that could only come from years of living in the same place without ever wanting to leave. For an almost uncomfortable length of time he stared out into the fog that stood like a wall between us and the island. Then he shook his head abruptly, frowning.

“I wouldn't”

Well if that's not a ringing endorsement, I thought wryly to myself. Of course I wasn't going to let one old man sway my decision. Growing up in a small town I'd learned pretty quick that the old timers weren't always as welcoming with newcomers, and would often try to come up with ways to convince people to live elsewhere. This likely wouldn't be any different. “I just got a job with Olsen Performance horses. I figure after 20 years of living in Wisconsin, there's nothing an island can throw at me that I can't handle.”

He gave a short, bark of a laugh and sat down on the tailgate beside me. “I don't mean the weather. I mean the name- Specter island. Ever wonder how it got it?”

“Not particularly, no. I guess the fog, now that I've been here.”

“Nah- you can't see it from the mainland anyway. No, there's something… off about it.”

“You mean like it's haunted?” I had to admit, he'd caught my interest. While horses had been my passion my entire life, taking me on the five year journey that had lead me here, I did have other interests. And ghost stories were right at the top of the list.

The man didn't answer for a bit, instead taking off his cap and scratching at a tuft of air clinging stubbornly to the top of his otherwise bald head. Then putting it back on he sighed and gestured to the ocean before us. “I've been sailing these waters a long time, and I ain't never seen anything like that place. An' I seen a lot, let me tell you.”

“What was it then?”

“Now I've never actually set foot there, an' I never will, but I've been off the coast more than enough times. There's something that appears on the shore. Not all the time, not even that often. But every time I see it, someone returns to the mainland in a wooden box.”

For a moment I was a little concerned. Ghosts were one thing, but death omens were a little bit more than I was hoping for.

“How many times have you seen it?”

“Oh, about three, maybe four times. Of course I don't see it every time someone dies, but if I do, within the month someone comes home for the last time. No one gets buried there.”

He'd just answered my next question. Superstition and coincidences, that was all there was to it.

“I think I'll take my chances then,” I said, nodding in the general direction of the island. Off in the distance, there was a low, almost mournful call from the ferry's foghorn. As if that was his cue to leave, the man got to his feet and held out his hand.

“I'm afraid I didn't catch your name, by the way.”

“Naomi Oxley- although most people call me Nox,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. He had a surprisingly firm grip.

“Well Nox, I wish you the best. Just don't say I didn't warn you. If you're ever back on the mainland, look me up. I'm curious what that thing looks like up close. Benjamin Alda; most folks know me.”

“If I see it, I'll be sure to report back.”

He smiled again and, without another word, turned and walked off into the fog.

After parking my truck below, I made my way up to the passenger deck, and then out to stand at the bow and watch for my first glimpse of my new home. There weren't many people making the crossing with me, although I hadn't expected a whole lot. April was still considered the off season, and most tourists wouldn't be arriving until the middle of May. The few people who were onboard shot me mildly suspicious glances as I passed, and I assumed they were locals. My only company outside were a couple seagulls, hitching a ride on the railing a few yards away. They ignored me.

While it wasn't the friendliest of welcomes, I did not feel discouraged. There was something alive about this move in a way I hadn't found before. It was something I could feel, the same way I felt the spray from the ocean on my face, and tasted the salt in the air. I'd felt it the same thing the moment I'd started my interview with Keith on the phone.

My previous experiences with starting new jobs had been less than ideal. While I'd known going into this path that a career with horses took a lot of time, tears, and plain old hard work, I'd never imagined that the people would be the worst part. The barn that I'd grown up riding in had been like a fimily to me, and I figured that finding another place like it would be a piece of cake. However, my first job had been at a lesson farm that was starving their horses to death; the second had me living in her basement, which doubled as a bathroom for her dogs; the third was run by a woman who would be from praising you to hurling curses in your direction multiple times per day. It had been an eye opener, to say the least.

This time would be different. It had to be. I'd done a lot of research on Keith, and on OPH, before taking the position. There was no record of him being accused of abuse, no one showing off the truth that he kept hidden behind closed doors. He was open and honest about his business and what was expected of me, and he even gave me a live tour of the place during our video interview. It was all so simple and yet so rare to find in the horse world.

That, and he just happened to be running one of the best ICTHA training facilities in the country. How could I turn that down.

The International Competitive Trail Horse Association hosted the most popular equine sports in the world, extreme competitive trail. A three day event that tested a horses stamina, bravery, and trust in it's rider, there was nothing else out there that could really showcase what horses are truly capable of. The first day was an endurance ride of varying lengths, although 30 miles was the standard. The following day was an arena course with some of the toughest obstacles imaginable, including rings of fire and the giant inflatable tubes typically seen outside of car dealerships. The final day returned to the outdoors for a much shorter race with obstacles along the way. The horse with the best overall time, performance, and vet scores took first place.

There were no shortcuts in extreme trail. You couldn't focus all your energy on one thing and expect to win, and you couldn't use drugs to mask lameness or pain for the sake of winning a trophy. It took years to train a winner at the top level. And Keith had managed to have one of his horses place in at least the top three ten years running. If he lost, it was to one that he had sold. That kind of success didn't come from training with force or starving your horses, that was for sure.

The call of the foghorn, deafeningly loud now that it was directly behind me, startled me out of my thoughts. And then I heard the reply, surprisingly close but still just out of sight

The island emerged from the fog a couple minutes later like a ghost ship, a solid beam of light swinging around from a lighthouse on the coast to welcome us in. There were other lights in the distance as well, houses and other buildings in town, the docks. I tried to imagine it on a clear day, with tourists and vacationers at every corner.

Someday, I would see it that way for real.

#wfhtw #my wips #writers of tumblr #writeblr

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the-progress-bar · 5 years

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You Wore Out a Path Recap

I haven’t written something this long in … well, I don’t want to check.

The Inception

I don’t remember where the idea for this came from, specifically. I wrote the beginning of the first chapter for Camp NaNoWriMo, along with a whole slew of other FE:A material. It turns out that I’m extremely bad at writing linear narratives, given the absolute mess and if you say goodbye is to straighten out and more casually in the boy across the hall.

Chapter One

The fairy tale was written first actually. I filled in around its scene breaks with Robin being in a Bad Mental State™ as a way to carry this. weird, meandering fairy tale. Also, there’s a much more comedic story in the works that involves Grima and Robin again and I wanted to do something more serious on that vein at the same time.

He strikes to the south east. For some reason, Donnel didn’t stay in the armed forces as Robin hoped but went back home for good.

Donnel! I love Donnel for the sheer comedy of some country boy latching onto the Shepherds, which is otherwise comprised of nobles, and him being able to take on a whole battlefield by himself, leaving the rest in the dust. But he doesn’t stay in Ylisstol and Robin and I are forever sad over that lost potential.

Thunder crumbles around the spirit. They press a stone into the prince’s hand and sighs.

Here’s an instance where it’s clear that I didn’t outline the first chapter at all nor was I thinking about how the pieces fit if I expanded the story. This stone was supposed to do your normal fairy tale shenaniganry with like. Blessings and shielding and magical properties. Then I completely lost that vein and only left the part in where spirit!Robin basically gives Chrom, the prince, their heart. Good job, me. This constantly bothers me, but I also don’t have the motivation to rewrite this bit.

He freezes at Frederick’s stare.

I sincerely love Frederick for reasons that are spoilers for a giant FE:A fic I have in the works, but he’s also so, so fun to wind up.

Chapter Two

So, now I had to actually sit down and outline how this story went. Just a bunch of sentences jotted down, but enough to make me realize how bizarre the geography in this game is. Like, what even is going on with the story’s timeline? Do you know how long it takes to move an army over a continent, when its fastest mode of transportation are horses? I never get how they’re able to run from Plegia over to Mount Prism, then back to the opposite side of the continent and onto Grima’s back. Did Grima just wait for Chrom and co. to arrive? Like, they’re extra enough, but Nintendo, come on.

Let me just say, the FE:A world map has been a permanent fixture in my browser for months and I’m glad to see it gone.

Chrom sinks onto the bed and stares at the coat in his hands.

It’s been almost a decade.

The reason it took Chrom so long to appear among the character tags is because he wasn’t supposed to appear. Not until the last scene. Somehow he snuck into the open and close of the rest of the chapters and I didn’t kick him out.

“I died, Frederick,” Robin snaps. “Please leave it alone.”

Rereading the earlier chapters, I’m a bit surprised myself about how bitchy and defeated (?) Robin is. Being possessed by Grima sucks, and so does slowly turning into a dragon-human thing, but wow boi. Normally my characters are more on the “body slam our problems into submission” side of the spectrum. It all works out eventually, but for a while I had to deal with the nasty problem that apparently only the female characters have any of their shit together.

“Blood magic is a sorry inheritance,” his mother said sadly, thumbs rubbing at the brand on his hand.

I hope you all love Modron as much as me, because I love her and aggressively ignore how Nintendo did her dirty by including her as a key character in a whole bunch of fics coming down the pipeline. Though in this particular fic, her presence snuck in while I wasn’t watching, but not enough to recreate the Chrom situation.

The fisherman knocks on the wooden door of his younger brother’s stone house.

I planned on putting a fairy tale of my own creation into every chapter, with each linked in a tangentially narrative way to Robin’s family. Obviously that didn’t happen. This tale was supposed to be involving Robin and two Morgan’s. That plan derailed immediately.

Chapter Three

Robin’s daughter greets Chrom in Chon’sin’s silks and lacquer, the twists of dark purple contrasting her currently golden hair.

I keep making Say’ri a lesbian. That point doesn’t come up in this story, because Chrom wasn’t supposed to take over so much, but Morgan and Say’ri are together by this point, even if that gets muddled a bit by their weird work relation. I’m just saying, like father, like daughter.

And yes, Morgan dyes her hair. This is more established in the remix I wrote out of boredom of yet another chapter of Robin and Frederick yelling at each other in the snow.

“It’s a wonder your wayward mother never tried fleeing the continent all together,” Grima says.

At this point, I just accepted that I had no control over character barging in because they felt like it. Grima kept the story interesting at least, or else this whole plot would have been the slowest, most boring road trip ever.

At the cost of bloating this chapter and shoving out some other content I initially wanted to cover.

Due to Ferox’s waveringly official stance of neutrality, we spent a few years moving back and forth here.

[Cackling laughter]

Lon’qu and Olivia drop unannounced into the unoccupied seats at the table while Frederick and Robin waited for their dinners.

This scene is … weird. A slight mess. Originally, Lon’qu and Olivia had the same level of screen time as Donnel and Nowi did in the first chapter. But I already had the outline sectioned off into five chapters and writing even more scenes on boats was not a good usage of my time. Presumably, the khans got word that Robin and Frederick were back and heading to Valm and since Lon’qu and Olivia were already in the area with the same destination, they decided to do a favor and sent a message ahead.

What are the Ferox kids doing in Valm? Spying Something, wasn’t important.

A hazy memory of before. Sumia stumbles into Robin’s shoulder, the two of them laughing, drunk on wine and mirth.

In my drafts, there’s half of the fairy tale that was supposed to go in this chapter. Sumia drunkenly tells an equally sloshed Robin the story as they stumble around in the castle. It’s a more standard tale paralleling Modron hiding her children from the Grimleal and made much more sense than whatever was happening in the last chapter. Unfortunately, I cut it out because certain parties used up too many words when they weren’t even supposed to appear.

Chapter Four

Chapter four and five were supposed to come out back to back because I assumed I’d have time to write over the holiday break. As we all know now, that didn’t happen, like so many of my plans.

More importantly though, at this point I realized that Robin needed to start getting his shit together, fast.

A beat from Grima’s many wings carried them on the hot winds blowing off the fires below, covering several hours march in a fraction of the time.

This passage from the bad timeline is one of those sections I wrote nearly immediately since it just clicked. (The other significant passage is the final scene.) Honestly though, I was starting to have a hard time not repeating the same imagery and words over and over again. My grasp of English and vocabulary has never been anything to write home about, first language notwithstanding, and I literally had to pull out the thesaurus a few times in the later sections so I wouldn’t keep writing “scream” but completely forgot what other words existed. Linguistics amazes me, but it is so not my department.

Is it anger? Is it despair? Is it exhaustion, ascending to the Exalt’s throne alone, …

How to Tell I Wrote a Section by Hand Rather Than on My Computer: when the sentences get long and on this roll of phrase after phrase after phrase, that’s me with a pen. This whole section from Chrom was handwritten on my then-new iPad to test out some software.

By this point, I accepted that Chrom was just going to Be There and started working on his scenes to also try ramping up the tension in the fic by going backwards in his history to when the grief gets rawer and rawer. you wore out a path isn’t primarily about grief or depression, but some of those beats snuck in?

Chrom is a Mess™ at this point.

They dream feverishly.

What the fuck was this section.

“How am I supposed to keep this army and your father alive if you won’t tell me what happens? You’re one of our greatest sources of information and you refuse to share with anyone. Stop hiding.”

I hate! This dumb trope! Of not sharing info when traveling back in time! What’s the point of time traveling with the express purpose of changing history and then not! Changing history!

I have strong feelings.

By private captain, Robin means pirates. They must find pirates to board with.

This was entirely for my own amusement. There’s no other reason. Another key sign that my characters are getting a handle on their lives is that the writing starts getting snarkier.

Chapter Five

If by some future machination, the count increases to three out of three, he’s going to wholesale stop trusting magical mountains.

Case in point about the snark.

The master revived, the blood burning, the sacrifice slain, the master revived, the lORD, the FelL DRAGON, death, glory, the gOD and its vessel, returned, returned.

It turns out, messing with AO3’s formatting to have some font fun is a pain in the ass involving work skin shenanigans. The picture work skin already failed to do its job, I wasn’t going to wrestle with another skin just for this sentence. How it’s supposed to look:

A good two-third of this chapter just all came at once, in a sudden dash of productive writing. The muses are fickle that way.

Back on the point about how I Did Not Outline, there were a few items I wanted to reappear through the narrative. Elements from the fairy tales come back in this fight, for example. Another point I decided in the fourth chapter when writing the opening scene are the cathedrals.

(Disclaimer: I’m not religious and thus don’t know the full symbolic significance in cathedrals. What I know can be distilled into: You Thought New York Construction Was Slow? and Very Pretty Because Very Important and Yes, The Organ is Behind You and Very Loud. Not a lot.)

“Why do you fight for Chrom?”

Robin getting interrogated on this point keeps coming up in my fics, but the scenes are always fantastic short bursts that are good at breaking up a section that’s been running too long.

Suddenly, Robin is quite literally on fire.

I already drew the picture. The boy’s on fire. There was a good explanation when I first thought this up, but then when it came time to writing the scene, I forgot why, and my outline didn’t have any notes. Bonds? Naga’s flame? Dramatically dissolving Grima’s marks from Robin’s body? All of the above?

“One last tale for the road,” Modron says to her son, …

Modron’s name. I’ve seen people taking cues from Morgan and going with Morgana, but I’m a contrary soul that always resists whatever fandom decides is a good idea. This works out well half the time.

Morgan and Morgana led my brain to the Arthurian legends, and I decided to see what some of those character’s mothers were called. Went to Wikipedia, clicked a bunch off links radiating from Morgan le Fay and somehow landed on Modron? She’s interesting. Nor did I know about the DnD Bill Cipher thing.

Normally, though, I would not have started with a Welsh name. Some of the name choices for Plegian characters have vaguely Middle East origins (which is a completely different discussion about real world politics in that casting decision) and I would have started there.

I’m not a linguist though. Or someone that knows about naming conventions. So.

Now he stands grounded and as well rooted as the Mila Tree, the fire traded for a calm glow and Robin’s so grateful.

And this line here, this line here, is the sole reason I humored Chrom kicking his way into the story. This final scene was one of the first things I wrote after deciding to expand past the first chapter.

Look at these two dumb boys growing up.

In Conclusion

[staring at my file archives]

Have I ever actually finished a multi-chapter fic before?

#long post #i am #wordy #you wore out a path #I like it when people do these these notes/director cuts #so i'm gonna too #fire emblem awakening

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primedoverlord · 7 years

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Race Against Time II Ch 1 -- Modern Dragons

We get a small glimpse into our modern era with the return of dragons.

(At some point I plan on rewriting the first dramatic adventure. And I won’t rewrite this sequel until HTTYD3 comes out. Chapters will be released as they are written, and likely posted on Fridays.)

Clunk-Tchk! Clunk-Tchk!

The sound of armored men and women echoed in the alley way as they lined up along an old building in the eastern district of Tokyo Town New York.

Clunk-Tchk! Clunk-Tchk!

“Put your backs into it! This shipment has to be moved out tonight!” The foreman shouted, walking down narrow lanes of workers who packaged together dried contents, scale hide, and bone. He would hit the back of anyones head who slowed work process as he passed. Growing anxious with each passing minuet that his shipment of illegally obtained dragon parts isn’t secure.

Outside, the men and women of Precinct Twenty Seven had all lined up, ready to knock down the door as the battering ram came into place.

An ear splitting shriek suddenly echoed through out the alley way as dragons tore into the building. A pair of Monstrous Nightmares had set themselves on fire as they tore into the walls. Making a hole large enough. They then backed off as they glanced up into the night sky. Their leader coming in for a landing as the police bare witness to the famed dragon billionaire making an appearance.

“Chen Guanyu! You have upset the balance between man and dragon by trafficking parts that hold no properties to heal the ill.” Her voice carried over the cold crisp night air from the speakers within the helmet of her armor.

“You are guilty of making money off of the ill and dying with the promise of healing from the suffering of others.” Chen opened fire on her. The bullets bounce off of her armor left and right. The sound the weapon made upset the midnight purple Deadly Nadder she sat upon.

“If this is your choice.. So be it.” With a flick of her wrist, the two Monstrous Nightmares begin ascending on the building, tearing into it and setting it on fire before following the armored woman back into the night air. Screams of the innocent being burnt alive could be heard echoing from the building as the police immediately ran in to try and rescue those trapped inside.

“What is this!”

WHAM! A newspaper is slammed onto the desk before Renee Baxter. Before her stood her old friend and body guard, Jet Wheelan.

Reclusive Billionaire roasts a Tokyo Town sweat shop. Seven dead.— Front page headline. The image of smoldering remains pictured below.

“Looks like the news to me.” Baxter replied dryly, seeing as the newspaper was in her way of finishing her paperwork.

“Just because you’re a billionaire with hundreds of toys at your disposal doesn’t mean you can go running off and taking the law into your own hands!” Jet was screaming at the top of his lungs by this point. His patience with her behavior up until this point has been dangling by a thin thread.

“You are not a super hero Bax.” He said, brows lowering solemnly. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“You’re right. I’m better than Iron Man.” Baxter smirked, seeing Jet’s brow twitch.

“No one is Iron Man! Look, if you keep this up you’re going to find yourself thrown in jail or worse.. This is not what Hiccup wanted when you promised to look after the dragons.” Jet reminded her.

“Chen Guanyu paid for his crimes.” Baxter spoke coldly.

“Tell that to the seven innocent people that died from smoke inhalation in that fire..” Jet reprimanded, pointing at the newspaper.

“I’m not just mad Bax.. I’m scared. For you. You’re not the innocent kid who wouldn’t hurt anyone that I use to know.”

“When you’ve spent TEN YEARS witnessing the destruction man can do to dragons, your blood would run cold with hatred as well.” She looked up at him, despondent.

Jet opened his mouth, about to speak but couldn’t find the words. Frustrated with what she’s become, Jet storms out. Leaving baxter behind with her thoughts. She goes to shove the newspaper aside, only to stop as she looked at it. Seven innocent people died in the fire she started that previous night. She wondered if what she did was the right choice before tossing the paper in to her waste basket.

CRACK!

A door splintered open as police swarmed into a run down home. Those inside were shouting and fleeing as the one suspect the police were after began running for his freedom. He reached down for a crow bar as he sailed through the back door and into his disheveled back yard. Banging the crow bar up against several piles of trash and debris, he then tossed the crow bar off as he scurried up the back fence and hopped down to the other side.

The police were hot on his trail, up until a shrieking scream came from back behind piled up debris. They backed off when they narrowly dodged a lightening blast as a dangerous dragon known as the Skrill came into view.

“How the hell did he get a Skrill?!” One officer shouted as they backed off.

“Go around the front! Catch up with him by State Avenue!” Another shouted over the wire.

“And where the hell is animal control!”

“Here captain..” A young woman of five foot four inches had approached from around the corner of the house. She flinched upon seeing the Skrill as it flexed its mighty wings, daring them to come close.

“Get out here and get that thing under control!” Captain Navarro demanded.

“I didn’t agree to the promotion to be a detective just to be sent to my death!” The woman argued. She refused to move from her spot by the side of the house.

“It’s the rookie’s job to contain dragons before transport. Now get in there or you will be put on desk duty!” Navarro shouted.

The woman didn’t like the sound of paper work on her first week on the job. She only agreed to this because it was what she was working up to in her career. As she approached the enraged creature, the others backed off, seeking shelter on the side of the house as they watched. She took one step closer and BZZZAPT! A lightening bolt nearly struck her.

“There is no way I am doing this..” She backed off as she pulled out her cell phone.

“What is she—is she mad?!” One officer shouted from the side of the house.

“She isn’t.. Is she? Has she read the news!?” Another objected.

For the past week, Baxter had been suffering night terrors. It was the same dream over and over. Running through a maze of dark tunnels, trying to escape an unknown enemy. It was exhausting to relive this over and over and never getting any resolve.

But this time, she wasn’t running from an unknown enemy. She was standing in the middle of a dark room. Before she could take a step, torches lit up the scene, revealing an ancient viking long house. Empty of life.

Find Him.

A familiar voice boomed throughout the room. But this voice was rasp with age.

“Hiccup?” Baxter called out.

Find Him.

The voice repeated. Baxter turned a full three hundred and sixty degrees, trying to find her friend and ancestor. He was not to be found.

“Find who!” She demanded as she looked around.

Find Berk and you will find him.

The voice replied.

“That doesn’t answer my question!” She argued to the disembodied voice.

Find him!

Baxter startled awake. The sound of the phone ringing madly in her ear. Groggily she picks up the phone and answers, only to draw silently.

“Just what do you think you’re doing calling that insane woman on the scene?” Navarro had started making his way towards the young rookie.

“There is no way I’m going to risk my life just to secure that monster.” She argued, pointing to the beast.

“Desk work, for a month.” Navarro growled, only to look skyward as a squawk had filled the air.

A mighty wind gust kicked up as the Nadder came in for a landing. The sharp cry from the Skrill was enough to upset the other dragon as its rider tried to steady him just long enough for her to hop off. Once she was off his back, the Nadder took off back into the sky. The rider approached both Navarro and the rookie.

“Keys.” She stated calmly, holding out her hand. They could see the sharp tips of her armored gloves.

“Look, we don’t need your assistance. We got this.” Navarro stated, glaring towards his rookie who held up the keys to the shackles. No response from the taller woman as she snatched the keys from the rookie’s grasp and walked out across the yard.

The task force watched in stark silence as the beast unleashed another blast of its electric attack. The woman rolled out of the way, dodging its attack to take refuge behind a stack of debris. Using the scattered debris, she inched her way closer to the fierce dragon.

“Easy big fella. I’m here to set you free.” She finally got close enough as she crouched low, inching her way closer. She was close enough to see that it was entangled in its own shackles. Her anger for this creature’s suffering grew as she quickly worked to free it.

Snap, the first shackle came off. Feeling its leg free, the Skrill immediately kicked her away, roaring in frustration as it tried to fly. Baxter skidded across the dirt yard to a stop, covering her head as the Skrill unleashed another electric shock. The blast struck the side of the house behind, narrowly missing her.

Behind, the others had ducked for cover as the beast attacked again. Navarro had to pull his rookie down to avoid a direct hit. Of which the woman screamed in fear as she heard the lightening zap over head. Feeling the heat from the attack.

Baxter had rolled back onto her feet as she crouched low, inching her way back. Seeing the discarded crow bar, she grabbed it as she wedged it between the entangled chains and began to try and pry them apart. Finally the chains slackened, allowing the creature more room for its legs to move as one by one the shackles snapped off. Once the shackle around the neck was finally off, Baxter was again knocked back as the creature flexed its mighty wings. Lowering its upper body as if to bow towards her, the beast then took off in a flash of light.

“I should have you arrested.” Navarro stated as he came out once it was safe. Watching as bit by bit the helmet retracted into the armor, revealing the brown, never-been-combed hair of the woman.

“And I should report you to the PC.” Baxter turns to face him. Her teal green eyes piercing beneath her messy bangs.

“We had things under control—“

“Sending a young rookie to her death to face a Skrill, which is illegal to own to begin with, is not having things under control.” Baxter barked.

“You should consider getting your priorities in check captain. Before someone gets hurt, or worse.” She let out a loud whistle as she looked to the sky.

“Funny coming from someone who doesn’t bother letting us do our job.” Navarro spoke as the Nadder returned, this time more calmed now that the Skrill was gone. Allowing her to freely hop into her saddle.

“The day you do your job instead of sending in rookies will be the day I reconsider my actions.” Baxter replied as she stared coldly down at Captain Navarro. With the spread of wings, the Nadder took off into the air. Navarro watched as she disappeared into the distance, his frustration with her growing. As long as the woman was rich, there was no way he could keep her in jail for her crimes. She would just bail herself out. Time and time again. Not even House arrest could contain her.

#Fan Fiction #Dreamworks #How To Train Your Dragon #Modern Dragons #Fan Character

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infinitehouseofbooksya · 7 years

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REVEAL - Project Emerjence

Today Jamie Zakian and Month9Books are revealing the cover and first chapter for PROJECT EMERGENCE which releases March 14, 2017! Check out the gorgeous cover and enter to be one of the first readers to receive a eGalley!!

A quick note from the author:

I’ve always dreamed of writing an epic sci-fi thriller. I knew I wanted it to involve a group of teens leaving a dead Earth to start new lives on a terra formed Mars, but I didn’t have any ideas on how to make the plot exciting. Then, a song I never heard before played on my Pandora app. Escape by Rogue. As that song blasted through my headphones, the entire story that is Project Emergence streamed through my mind like a movie trailer. So, I went straight to work. It took months of frantic writing, almost a year of editing, and a mini rewrite, but that moment of inspiration became my first YA novel.

Project Emergence is a fast-paced thrill ride across the stars. It shows the extent people will go to uphold their beliefs, and that love can overcome any evil.

On to the reveal!

Title: PROJECT EMERGENCE

Author: Jamie Zakian

Pub. Date: March 14, 2017

Publisher: Month9Books

Format: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 292

Find it: Goodreads | Amazon | B&N | TBD

An ancient Hopi myth says people arrived on tiny silver pods that fell from the sky.

But the truth is far more terrifying.

Two-hundred fifty-eight teens are sent from a dying Earth to a terraformed Mars as part of the Emergence Program, mankind’s last hope before solar flares finish off their planet and species. Among the brave pioneers are sixteen-year-old Joey Westen and her twin brother, Jesse.

After only minutes in space, something triggers a total ship lock down.

With the help of their roommates, the Matsuda twins (notorious hackers and shady secret-keepers), Joey and Jesse stumble onto an extremist plot to sabotage the Emergence Program.

But Joey and Jesse didn’t travel to the deepest pits of space and leave their mother behind to be picked off in a high-tech tin can. They’ll lie, hack, and even kill to survive the voyage and make it to Mars.

Excerpt

Chapter One Joey stared out the window of a large, airtight van. The nose of a spaceship peeked above maroon-crested hills, and her forehead thumped against the glass. A light crinkle drew her stare, right to the paper wrinkling in her grip. She loosened her stiff fingers, smoothing a crease from the official seal of the Unified Nations of Earth. The letter in her hand still mesmerized her. Selected, Terraformed Mars, New home, those words knocked the bottom from her stomach every time she read them. Things were getting way too real. No more tiny lead-lined home, school time at the kitchen table, mom. She turned to Jesse, her brother’s smirk brighter than an X1 flare. “You’re a crappy twin. I’m freaking out right now, you should be too.” Jesse rolled his stare her way. “Fraternal twins don’t work like that.” “That’s not true.” She read the letter again, making sure both their names were listed for the umpteenth time. “I can’t believe this is happening.” Jesse squirmed, frowning a moment before his perma-smile returned. “No one from G-Sector ever goes anywhere.” “Did you see the look on mom’s face when we left?” “I know. Buzzkill.” “What’s she gonna do without us?” “Finally be able to feed herself,” Jesse snickered. Joey shook her head, folding the letter. “Maybe she’ll win the next lottery, meet up with us on Mars.” “Yeah, I don’t think so.” “Why not?” Jesse leaned close, keeping his voice low. “Didn’t you hear what that kid behind us was saying?” “No. What?” “He said there are no random drawings.” Jesse eyed the soldier stationed at the front of the van, then the other two at the rear. “That everyone is selected for a specific purpose.” “But, that would mean the U.N.E. is lying to everyone,” Joey said, a bit too loud. Jesse’s eyes opened wide, and she shrugged. “You’re gonna get us booted from this ride before we even launch.” “Sorry,” she muttered. “It’s a stupid idea anyway ‘cause look, we’re here. What do we have to offer? All you can do is fix stuff, and me … well, I’m just good at being cute.” She batted her eyes, flaunting a sly smile. “Yeah you’re right, that’s real flippin cute.” Jesse slanted toward the aisle, glancing around the cab. “There aren’t any adults on this van.” “There’s the soldier guys.” “Geez R-tard, I mean the passengers.” Joey pinched her brother, who wriggled away. “R-tard,” she mimicked. With a failed attempt to appear casual, she popped her head up and scanned the many seats. Sparkly clothes and bright makeup captured her stare. “They look like A-Sectors.” So lavish but she could see beyond the illusion of glittering threads and flawless skin, to the same excited fear that dwelled in her own eyes. “Please remain seated while the vehicle’s in motion,” a soldier thundered. Jesse grabbed Joey’s arm, pulling her down into the seat. “Smooth sister, real smooth.” She shrank back, initiating her trusty get-out-of-messes frowny smile. “Oops. In trouble already, figures.” Grumbles erupted from her brother’s lips, and she turned back to the dusty earth outside her window. Crazy how one day, and a trip to the mailbox, could change her entire life. Yesterday, she was painting a mural of Mars on their bedroom wall. Today, she was going to Mars. The parched countryside vanished behind a tunnel’s wall. She sagged down in her seat. For sixteen years, she clung to Jesse. Every time dust storms pelted their windowless metal house, she curled under his arm. Mom worked late and her hand became glued to his. And now, when she actually needed the comfort of his touch, her brain decided it’s time to man-up. Her eyes narrowed. She zeroed in on his cozy looking hand, her fingers drumming a steady beat on her leg. *** Sabrina poked her head around a corner. Her fingers tightened around a rifle’s grip as she peered down a dim corridor. Shadows danced along the concrete wall and she backed up, pressing her comms button. “Stone to dispatch, come in dispatch.” Static crackled in her ear, a garbled voice cutting in and out. “Dispatch, do you read? Where the hell is my back-up?” This time, only the fizz of dead air replied. “Damn underground bright-out dens,” she mumbled. These missions twisted her gut every time. There were very few people left alive on Earth. Many couldn’t afford specially designed homes or the rising cost of oxygen, and it didn’t sit right to bust folks just for trying to survive the scorching sun. Although, as a captain of the Unified Nations of Earth, she had a duty to her planet. Neither a heavy conscience nor lack of back-up would hinder that. Sabrina held her weapon close, skulking down the stone passage. Two men strolled around the bend, stopping short and she popped off two rounds. No sound emitted from the gun’s muzzle, just a flash that lit the graffiti-stained walls in white. The men slumped to the floor. Tiny darts protruded from their chests, pamphlets spilling from their limp hands. “Earth-heads,” she muttered, glimpsing anti-Mars propaganda. A clink of metal echoed to her left and she headed toward it. Men and woman dropped as Sabrina skated through shadows. Their tranquilized bodies slapped concrete, leading a trail to a solid door at the end of the long hallway. She reached into her vest, extracting a small explosive charge. Just as the magnet clinked to the steel slab, a voice sputtered into her earpiece. “Captain Stone, we’ve breeched the airlock. En route to your position.” “Bout time,” she muttered. Her thumb glided overtop the button of a wireless detonator and spikes of fear burrowed into her gut. U.N.E protocol, the whirl in her stomach, her brain required to wait for back-up. Pride, however, was a persistent little sucker, one that set loose a torrent of electric shocks to course freely in her veins. She scurried back, covered her head, and pressed the button. An explosion rocked her chest, slamming her against the wall. Hunks of concrete crashed down, and the door slammed atop the rubble. Sabrina swung her rifle dead ahead. Adrenaline perked her lips into a smile as she charged through wisps of smoke, firing upon every body that lunged her way. “This is a raid of the U.N.E., get down on the ground.” Soldiers flooded the doorway behind her and she dropped her grin. A woman needed an iron-clad stare amid this troop of grunts. “Took you guys long enough.” She turned, stumbling back as the five-stars of a General gleamed in her eyes. “Sir,” she roared, standing up straight. “Captain Stone, I need you to come with me.” Sabrina glanced around, as much as one could without moving a single muscle in their neck. Her men cleared the room as a smaller group, with much larger guns, crowded around her. “Am I in trouble sir?” “Quite the contrary, Captain. You’ve been selected for an important mission. You’re going to Mars, soldier.” *** Joey grabbed her brother’s hand the instant he climbed off the van’s step. Her attempt to play the tough-guy had gone on long enough. People shuffled all around the wide-open room, probably watching her act like a baby, but she couldn’t let go. Fear stole her will. It could have been the towering room of glass walls and silver beams that encompassed her, the barrage of strange faces, or the fact that she’d never see her mother again, but gloom tainted this moment. A soft voice streamed from a kiosk of video screens, repeating the Space Center’s famed slogan–Three days on the state-of-the-art R23 shuttle, strolling through green grass, swimming in cool oceans. Everything she memorized from the letter in her backpack. “Look, there’s check-in,” Jesse said, tugging her from the display of white sand beaches. She inched through the crowd, close to his side. They filed into a rowdy line, her palm sweating against his skin. “The Westen twins, I presume,” a high-pitched voice trilled from behind them. In one swift move, she shook free from Jesse’s grasp and whirled around. An ultra-posh, Asian girl leered down and Joey stood tall. Her eyes wandered to the near identical boy at her side, bearing the same long jet-black hair. Another set of twins. “How did you know our name?” Jesse asked. Joey nudged his arm, pulling his gaze from the low cut of the girl’s sparkly shirt. “We know the names of all the twins on this ship,” she said, her hand hoisting to her hip. “First and last,” the boy added. Joey stifled a chuckle. Twins who finished each other’s sentences, this trip was going to be stellar. The line shuffled forward, and the small group edged up a few paces. “How many twins are on this flight?” Jesse asked, glancing between the pair. “Fourteen, including us,” she replied. “Well fourteen sets,” the boy corrected, turning to his sister. “That actually makes twenty-eight twins.” “But twins is plural, so it would be fourteen,” she argued, a hint of red flaring her cheeks. “Yeah, but, you knew who we were,” Joey said. “We didn’t even know there were other twins here. Is there like, a manual we didn’t get or something.” The girl laughed, slapping her brother’s chest. A stealthy glare clouded her delicate features as she leaned in. “We hacked the database.” “We hack everything,” the boy whispered. “Cool,” Joey drawled, glancing to Jesse. “So you must be Jesse,” the girl said, staring at Joey, “Short for Jessica, right?” “Ahh no,” Joey sputtered. “I’m Joey. Short for Josephine, which I hate so … just Joey.” “I’m Jesse, which … isn’t short for anything.” Jesse shoved his hands into his pockets, his gaze falling down. “Ahem, the line is moving,” a red headed girl groaned. They all crept forward again, and then Jesse spun back around. “So are we supposed to hack to find out your names?” The girl giggled, and Joey’s eyes rolled. Her stare landed on the boy’s annoyed face, and they both grinned. “Kami Matsuda.” A rainbow of colors reflected off the girl’s clothes as she slinked closer to Jesse, looking up into his eyes. “That’s Rai,” she said, nodding to her brother but keeping her deep gaze. Jesse gulped. His hands began to tremble, and it became painfully obvious at how fast his breath flowed. “Next in line.” “That’s us,” Joey chirped. She all but ripped Jesse from Kami’s leer. “We’ll catch up with ya.” It took quite a massive tug, but she finally got Jesse moving toward the registration table. “Now who’s smooth, dorkus,” she whispered. *** “Let me get this straight, Mr. Winslow,” Sabrina said, only able to mask a fraction of the edge in her tone, “you want me to be a glorified babysitter for a bunch of teens in space?” She turned from a wall of windows, which ran from floor to ceiling. Her boots sank into lush carpet as she strolled past stone statues, one of which lost its arm somewhere along the way. Such extravagance. If it were liquidated and spread out, every sector could afford a giant dome to protect its people from radioactive air; instead of just the A-Sectors. She tore her gaze from art-adorned walls, catching an impatient glare from the man behind a glossy wooden desk. “The situation on our hands goes far beyond babysitting, Captain Stone. We’re under attack. The commander of the U.N.E. herself assured me you were the best of the best.” “Commander Sun said that? Huh.” She stepped closer. The man before her strained to appear confident, but she glimpsed the beads of sweat that trickle between his dark wrinkled skin and white hair. “You’ve got my attention,” she said, cupping her hands behind her back. “Of course you understand, every word spoken within this room stays within this room.” “Yes sir.” “Ever since the inception of the Emergence program, a group of fanatics have targeted us. Are you familiar with the Earthisum Movement, Captain Stone?” “Yes sir. I took out an underground lair of them this morning. They seem to be, for the most part, harmless.” “Perhaps on the outside.” He pulled a brown folder from his drawer, placing it on his desk. “Have a look.” Sabrina flipped open the cover, scanning the pages. When she read a handwritten letter, which appeared to be scrawled in blood, her fingers actually shook. “The threats made in that manifesto were not empty.” Her head snapped up, and she gawked at the old man before regaining her composure. “Are you saying, the Earth-heads blew up your first flight to Mars?” His finely manicured fingers massaged his forehead, a ghostly shade of white claiming his cheeks. “Yes, after only hours in space.” He dropped his stare and muttered, “The second and third flights as well.” “What?” “Those maniacs sabotage every Spacebus we launch. None have successfully made the voyage to Mars.” “How could you hide this from the public? They think people are living, flourishing over there. You need to put a hold on this program. Now. I’ll need at least a week to investigate.” His head shook, and Sabrina slammed her hands on the desk. “That file says there are two-hundred and fifty-eight children walking onto that shuttle as we speak, Mr. Winslow. Two-hundred and fifty-eight lives you’re putting at risk.” “If we stop the program, they’ve won. No! The survival of the human race is too important. This mission has to succeed, Captain Stone.” “But why now, with kids? If what you’re telling me is true, Mars is empty. There are no doctors, scientists, or security of any kind in place. They’ll eat each other alive out there.” “It has to be them.” He rose from his seat, smoothed a crease on his pinstriped lapel, and strolled to the window. “Those young adults were born in the year of the massive solar flare.” While gazing out the lightly-tinted glass, he motioned for Sabrina to join him. “I don’t see why that matters.” As she approached, the doublewide spacecraft stole her focus. She allowed her stare to fuse with the gleam of curved metal, sharp points of thin wings, before shifting her eyes to the man beside her. “They’re genetically predisposed to elevated radiation, since … I handpicked each one of them—for their instincts, spark, and their odds of producing healthy offspring.” “Look, I get that. But, if you just postpone a few weeks I can—” “Earth only has a few weeks left, Captain Stone.” His voice quavered. He cleared his throat, lifting his chin high. “The sun is set to flare in, approximately, ten days. The space program predicts its intensity will surpass our classification scale. Moments, and everything left above the surface will be eradicated. Not even the UV-dome of A-Sector can deflect these waves.” Sabrina gasped. She began to stagger back, but Winslow grabbed her arm. “Captain Stone, Sabrina. Look down there, at those children.” Her legs wobbled for the first time in her memory, but she crept forward. People hurried along a glass-encased walkway, far below, like tiny ants marching into a trap. “That’s the future of mankind down there. If they don’t make it to Mars, our species will cease to exist. You have to get them to that planet safely. You’re the last hope of humanity, Captain Stone.”

Jamie Zakian is a full-time writer who consumes the written word as equally as oxygen. Living in South Jersey with her husband and rowdy family, she enjoys farming, archery, and blazing new trails on her 4wd quad, when not writing of course. She aspires to one day write at least one novel in every genre of fiction.

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janicho88 · 3 years

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Fire, Fur & Mistletoe Chapter 3

Pairing- Eventual Dean x Female Reader.

Word Count-2,383

Warning- Mentions of: loss of parents, death, and fires. Possible swearing. Slight angst. Fluff

Summary- A rewrite of the Nine Lives of Christmas, Hallmark movie. AU, Dean is a firefighter who doesn’t do commitment, the Holiday’s don’t mean much to him. Coming home after a shift he finds a dog in trouble. The reader is a veterinary student who works in a coffee shop trying to make it to graduation, until someone causes problems there for her. She isn’t interested in finding anyone other than her own dog until after she finishes school. Do their four legged friends have other plans?

A/N- This series is written for @spnchristmasbingo. The square filled for this chapter is Christmas Tree The first two chapters will stay closer to the movie than the rest will.

This chapter also fills my entry for @supernatural-love14,100 Followers writing challenge. Prompt - I don’t remember the last time I truly enjoyed Christmas.

This has its own tag list and it is open. That way I am not tagging anyone who doesn’t want to be tagged in Christmas stories. This story is unbeta’d.

Header by the amazing @winchest09

Divider from freepngimg.com

Series Masterlist

To say you were surprised to end up at an elementary school would be an understatement. Dean’s group of fascinating people were the kindergarten classes. He even had plastic fireman hats for them, and of course an extra one for you.

The kids were so caught up in his speech about fire safety and the important things to remember if there ever is a fire. He was so good with them and kept them all interested. He finished his presentation talking about Christmas trees and how they should all make sure their parents keep them watered, so the lights don’t catch them on fire.

Dean took questions at the end. Some of the boys wanted to know what it was like to drive the fire truck, someone asked if it was fun to slide down the pole. They were disappointed when Dean told them there wasn’t one where he worked. One little girl at the end ran up and gave him a great big hug before you guys left. He was so adorable with her.

When you left there Dean asked if you were interested in helping him pick out tiles for the kitchen backsplash. You didn’t have anything else to do and had been enjoying helping him with the house so you agreed.

Getting to the store he had three different ones selected and had you help him decide. After the paint he trusted your opinion on the color selection.

They had enough in stock of your choice to let you two get started on it when you got home. The rest would be in soon. You had a system worked out, you put the mastic on the back and Dean applied the tile to the wall.

That afternoon Dean headed into work for another 24 hour shift. The second call of the afternoon was for a house fire. Thankfully for the residents it was mostly contained to one room, just the living room. But that room had a bit of damage done.

Hoping out of the truck back at the station he asks, “Okay who seriously is going to BBQ a turkey in the fireplace. And plan on doing it twice because this was just going to be a test run before Christmas?”

“It’s the Holidays,” Bobby stated. “People are going to be doing crazy things. You’ve been here a few years don’t you know this by now.”

“That is true. Y/N and I were talking about that earlier after we left the school presentation.”

“Wait, WE, left the presentation? Did you take her with you?” Benny wanted to know.

“Well,”

“She’s living with him now, didn’t you know that?” Sam asks him.

“What, really?” Benny couldn’t believe it.

“She moved in a couple days ago.”

“Wow, you two move fast.”

“It’s not like that you idiots. She got kicked out of her condo and had nowhere else to go, and she already got fired because of me. I’m just giving her a place to stay till she figures things out. The house has the room. Our dogs get along great.”

“Is that why Miracle isn’t here?” Cas wants to know.

“Yeah, Y/N’s taking care of him and Dean. He’s falling in love.”

“Who Dean or Miracle?” Cas questions Sam.

“Dean, probably both. She is very easy to like.”

“You’ve met her, besides that day she was in here?” Benny wanted to know.

“Yeah, Dean called me to help move her.”

“I would have helped the nice pretty girl move, why didn’t you ask me to help?”

“I’m not sure packing would have been the only thing you tried with her, Benny. I just found her again, I’m not letting you scare her off.”

“He didn’t deny the love.” Sam says with a smile.

“I’m not falling in love with anyone, bitch.” Dean shakes his head at the whole thing as he removes his gear.

“I’m sorry, my jerk of a brother, is falling in love, but he doesn’t know it yet.”

“That can’t be true Dean, come on man. I look up to you, playing the field avoiding commitment, a constant string of beautiful women.”

“It’s not true, we aren’t falling in love, not dating. I still don’t do commitment, and never getting married.”

“So what are you doing with Miracle if you don’t do commitment?” Bobby asks as he takes off his coat.”

“Temporary long termish house guest.”

“Uh huh.”

“I told him when the house is sold he’s on his own.”

“Let us know how that works out in a couple of months, you idjit.”

“I’m calling your bluff with the girl. Can you say no to these three things.”

“Really Cas?”

Cas ignores Dean and continues on, “ You live with her? That’s a yes. Two, you spend all your free time with her? Yes.”

“Well.”

“Three, you think about her when you aren’t with her? Yes,”

“No, no, you have it all wrong. Like I said she is only staying till she gets back on her feet. We are getting to know each other so we hang out, but only because she’s already there.”

“Getting to know each other like you would if you were dating someone?”

“Shut it Sam.”

“Are you saying he is falling in love? The legend, is human after all?” Benny questioned.

“No, I’m not falling in love. Y/N is a temporary roommate. That’s it.”

“Man, you are like five minutes away from marrying this girl.” Sam tells him.

“I hate you all.” Gear off Dean leaves them behind to take a shower.

“Keep telling yourself that!” Bobby yells after him.

Wandering around Dean’s house alone while he was at work, you got to thinking. There was one thing you were really missing this close to Christmas, and it was something you didn’t think you would be able to have this year. A Christmas tree.

When Dean gets home the next afternoon you bring it up.

“I was wondering if you were going to get a Christmas tree this year?”

“Usually don’t. I don’t think I’ve had one in a few years.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen a reason too. I buy a house, fix it up and sell it. Usually I don’t stay in one long enough. I don’t do much for the Holidays. Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking maybe we could get a tree? I have a little artificial tabletop tree, but wouldn’t it be nice to have a real one? To have that Christmas smell when you walk in the door?”

“If you like real ones so much why didn’t you already have one in your place?”

“It was against the bylaws. Apparently too much of a fire liability.”

“That didn’t stop you with Dakota.”

“The tree can’t be hidden quickly like she was. She was worth risking it for.”

“You really want to get a tree?”

“Please, it helps it feel more like Christmas. If you don’t want one I understand.”

Dean threw his head back and sighed. “Fine we can go get a tree. I think there is a tree lot near the station that hasn’t sold out yet.”

“Let’s go to a tree farm, get the whole experience.”

“You’ll be the death of me Sweetheart.”

Dean didn’t have to work at all the following day, so after breakfast the two of you headed out to the Christmas tree farm. Dressed in warm clothes and boots you were ready to walk all around the 8 acre tree farm if you needed to, just to find the right tree. There was a wagon ride that took you around to the different types of trees. Dean and you got off in the back lot figuring you could walk your way toward the entrance.

“There’s a tree,” Dean points out as you start walking down the first row.

“Yes, and it’s also like four foot tall. It’s still growing, let the baby be.”

“Okay, miss Christmas tree expert. How do you pick the perfect Christmas tree?”

“It’s really pretty scientific you know.”

“Oh really? Please do explain it to me.”

You laughed at his expression. He had turned to you with wide eyes and a cheeky little grin. Like he was going to absorb whatever you said. “You dork.” Heading over to a tree you reach for a branch pulling your hand back toward you slowly. “First you need to check the freshness. If the needles stay on when you do that it’s good.”

You drop your hand to the side, “Then you need to inhale deeply and see how it smells.”

Dean did just that, “It smells like a tree.”

“Okay, but does it smell Christmassy.”

“Christmassy? Pretty sure you just made that word up.”

“Nope it’s totally in the dictionary.”

“Okay, Webster. Then what does it mean?”

“To be filled with Christmas spirit.”

Dean just stared at you for a moment. “You think a tree is going to smell like it’s filled with Christmas spirit? Just wondering if you were drinking before I got up this morning?”

“Oh come on, it’s that fresh cut pine smell that fills the whole place and makes it feel like Christmas.”

“Whatever you say, I’ll leave the nose work to you. What is step three?” He wants to know as you two walk down the lane looking at the trees around you.

“The lean test. You need to look at a tree straight on, then lean to the right and to the left, then stand back up straight. You don’t want a tree that is leaning too hard one way and is crooked.” You stop to inspect a tree, but continue on down your way.

The fourth step is checking the trunk and making sure nothing is wrong with it. Sometimes the tree might be straight but that isn’t. Or it could have a double one that won’t fit in a tree stand.”

“Height is important too. Your ceilings are fairly high so we could get a foot tree no problem.”

Dean is just smiling listening to you go on about trees while you walk through the lot. “Yep that is extremely scientific.”

You two stopped and looked at different ones but kept going. There was one you stuck a stick up in top of to mark if you didn’t find anything else you liked. Around an hour into your search you stopped in your tracks. Dean was lost in his thoughts and took him a moment to notice.

“That’s the one.”

“The one?”

“Yep, that’s the tree we should get.”

“There is only one? How do you know it’s the one? What if you are wrong, but you’ve already committed to it? What happens then, fighting and hurting the kids?”

“You lost me, Dean.”

“I um,” He just realized what all came out of his mouth. “I mean it’s a great tree. Let’s get that one.”

“You sure you are alright?”

“Yep great. Hold that steady, till I need you to push a little, will you?”

While you were helping to hold the tree from moving too much Dean got on the ground and started sawing back and forth till he had it lying on the ground. You couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his arms as he worked.

The two of you carried the tree toward the path in the hopes the wagon would be around soon and you wouldn’t have to carry it all the way to the front. Thankfully only about five minutes later you could hear it coming around. Up at the front they shook and bagged the tree for you.

They also had Santa, and some petting animals around.

“Did you want to go tell Santa your Christmas wish?” You asked Dean.

“You know, I already saw him this year. He and I are pretty tight.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

After seeing the animals you hopped in his truck and headed to the store. Neither of you had a stand that would fit the newly bought tree. With that accomplished you were on your way back to the house. Getting the tree inside it was set up in the living room not to far from the fire place, but not near enough to catch any sparks that may pop out.

Dean didn’t have any decorations in the house, but you had some you had been saving. After the lights were on you went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate for the two of you and pulled out some of the peanut butter blossom cookies you made the day before. Coming back Dean still hadn’t turned on the tv so you asked if you could. Finding the different music channels you finally came across a Christmas one.

The two of you were enjoying the music and each other’s company as you decorated the tree.

It was late afternoon by the time everything was done and cleaned up. You offered to start dinner and Dean came in to help you. The two of you working easily in the newly finished kitchen.

After dinner you two retired back to the living room turning off the lights in the room and just letting the tree shine. There was a roaring fire going, The Santa Clause 2 playing on tv. Chet had to be one of your favorite reindeer in training. It was very relaxing.

After the movie Dean mutes the television and turns to you. “Thank you for suggesting the tree. It’s actually really nice to have it. I don’t remember the last time I truly enjoyed Christmas. My parents fought a lot when we were little after the fire, before and after separating. After we lost them it was just Sam and I. Both of us just worked double shifts on Christmas at the station so others could have the time off. Now Sam has Jess so he works part of the day, but doesn’t do a double anymore so he can spend time with her and her family.

He looks around at the decorations on the mantle, “I wouldn’t be opposed if you had some other small decorations you wanted to get out too.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I have that won’t be in the way.”

He turns the volume back up and the two of you settle back to watch another movie.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 4

Tags- @winchest09 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @jensengirl83 @abuavnee @lunarmoon8 @amyzombie1013 @akshi8278 @that-one-gay-girl @mandalou29 @igotmadskills

#fire fur & mistletoe #dean winchester #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #christmas #supernatural-love14 writing challenge #supernatural #spnchristmasbingo

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