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monaedroid · 5 years

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Janelle Monáe: Living Out Loud

For them.'s debut cover story, Lizzo and Janelle Monáe sit down to discuss coming out, freedom, and living and loving out loud.

April 12, 2019

When Janelle Monáe came out as queer in a Rolling Stone cover story last April, the revelation made headlines around the world. As one of the most prolific multi-hyphenate artists of a generation, her declaration carried immense weight, both for herself and for queer black women and LGBTQ+ people everywhere. The announcement was followed by the release of her most brilliant, vulnerable work to date: Dirty Computer, an album that was at its core about embracing the freedom one finds in self-exploration and discovery. Bold, unabashedly fluid anthems like “Pynk”, “Screwed,” and “Make Me Feel” further solidified Monáe as a leader for “free-ass motherfuckers” (as she delightfully referred to herself when coming out) everywhere, one who challenges social binaries and norms alike with grace and strength.

Always evolving sonically and aesthetically, today, Monáe is entering a new era of her genre-bending career. The constant, though, is her work, which remains centered in advocacy, agency, and empowerment, regardless of what form it takes. With reverence for the responsibility of an artist and activist, Monáe uses every platform she builds to amplify intersectional discourse about race, gender, and sexuality in new ways. She takes action in a way that makes everyone take notice.

Monáe’s ascent as an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community has tracked alongside her own journey towards personal enlightenment and fulfillment of purpose. It has come with an understanding of the paradox of visibility, and a reckoning with the fears and challenges that queer people, specifically queer people of color, face when living authentically. In taking center stage to speak out and perform against aggressive oppression, Monáe’s voice and vision for humanity help to define what it means to advance emancipation for all.

That’s just a sliver of why we chose Monáe to star in them.’s debut cover story, “Janelle Monáe: Living Out Loud.” It would only be right to have one free-ass motherfucker interview another for the occasion, which is why we recruited Lizzo, an inimitable musical force in her own right and an unerring LGBTQ+ ally, to speak with Monáe below. Both women are known for hits that make you dance while reaching for something deeper, and both share a commitment to uplifting marginalized communities, championing self-love and self-care, subverting social expectations, and speaking their truths through their work. In the wide-ranging conversation below, they touch on that common ground and more, speaking to the terrifying, liberating process of challenging the world’s preconceptions about you, what it really means to live freely in our world today, and loving and living out loud.

Lizzo: First of all, shout out to freedom, okay? Because when you first started talking about sexual fluidity in Rolling Stone, you made me feel like I could do whatever I wanna do and feel how I wanna feel. That’s freedom.

I think that there's so much freedom with sexuality in the world right now. And you are a huge part of that wave. Can you tell me about that journey?

Janelle Monáe: It's been a journey. For me, sexuality and sexual identity and fluidity is a journey. It's not a destination. I've discovered so much about myself over the years as I've evolved and grown and spent time with myself and loved ones. That's the exciting thing — always finding out new things about who you are. And that's what I love about life. It takes us on journeys that not even we ourselves sometimes are prepared for. You just adapt to where you are and how you've evolved as a free thinking person.

Absolutely. I was just talking about this the other day, about how fluidity can mean so many things. It's not just what you like in that moment. I've seen fluidity change with age. I've seen people come out in their sexual identity in their forties and fifties. Yet there's so much pressure on young people to choose an identity, when you're a teenager and your hormones are jumping off — it's like, "Choose an identity, choose a sexual orientation." It's like, "How?” When I like everything sometimes, and I like nothing sometimes.

Do you have any words for those who are struggling with their sexuality or coming out? At any age, but especially for young people.

Don't allow yourself to feel any pressure other than the pressure you put on you. And I think there's so much power in not labeling yourself. That said, there's also power in saying "This is how I identify,” and having community with the folks you identify with. Everyone is on a journey of self-discovery, and those of us who may not understand others’ journeys should be more empathetic and tolerant and supportive.

A big thing for me is just being patient with myself, and not allowing myself to make decisions based in fear, or a fear of people not understanding me. And it's hard. You go through experiences where you feel fearful, and you end up being depressed, or having anxiety, and not taking care of you. But that fear should not get in the way of how you love or who you love.

To be young, queer, and black in America means that you can be misunderstood. You can be hated. It also means that you can be celebrated and loved. And I think there's a lot at stake when you’re living out loud in that way.

Right. And when you’re in the public eye, there's another layer to that with your sexual identity — added pressure, or another kind of fear. Coming out is such a personal, liberating experience. It's nobody's business. But especially when someone famous comes out — and even if their friends or family already know who they're stickin' and lickin' — it’s like, when everyone knows and it's in your heart, is that even really coming out?

Do you feel like Dirty Computer was a public coming out? Or how did you see that statement you made?

Well, one, whenever I'm making music, I start with where I honestly am and what I honestly have to say. I work inward, and then I focus outward, on how it can impact people and be helpful to others. But it starts with me.

I knew the title of this album since before The ArchAndroid, so I’ve been sitting with it for some time. There were just conversations that I had to have with myself and my family about my sexuality and the impact that speaking honestly and truthfully about it through my art would have. I grew up in the Midwest; you did, too. You spent time in Minneapolis. I spent time in Kansas. I grew up there, in a very small town, and I went to a Baptist church; to be anything other than heterosexual is a sin in that community, and growing up, I was always told I'd go to hell if I was. There was a part of me that had to deal with what that meant.

After I had those conversations with myself and I saw a therapist, I had to be able to talk about what it meant to identify as bisexual. What does that mean? How would discovering that impact the relationship I was in at the time? How do I talk about it with my family? How do I go back to my church? The bottom line is I had to have conversations with myself and the folks that love and care about me, and realize they may not understand what it means for me to be a person who identifies as queer in this world. I’ll also add that it wasn't like I wanted to even make it a declaration. I knew that by being truthful through my art, people were gonna have questions, and I had to figure out a way to talk about it. And in having those talks with myself, I realized it was bigger than just me. There are millions of other folks who are looking for a community. And I just learned into that. I leaned into the idea that if my own church won't accept me, I'm gonna create my own church.

Hallelujah. How do you feel about the state of queer acceptance in 2019?

How do I feel about it? I mean, to be young, queer, and black in America means that you can be misunderstood. You can be hated. It also means that you can be celebrated and loved. And I think there's a lot at stake when you’re living out loud in that way. One thing I’ve realized even more was that when you walk in your truth, you can inspire and encourage people to walk in theirs’. I don't know if you got the opportunity to see, but I watched this episode of Queer Eye the other day, and there was this woman, Jess. A young girl from Kansas who really touched me. And I think she touched a lot of people. It was a special episode because I could relate to her — I knew what it meant to be that young and living in the Bible Belt. And she wanted so badly to be this strong, black, queer woman, and she said that I had influenced everything from the way she was dressed to the way she was seen. I just said to myself, "Man, the fact that my album has reached another young black woman like her, and it's helped her in her life, it makes me feel like I'm walking in my purpose and it's really what I'm supposed to be doing." And I can't give up.

I think people are looking for that validation. When they're trying to talk to their parents and their parents don't see that representation out in the real world and people being accepted like that — it's foreign to them, and I think that by being the example, we make it a little easier for kids to be able to talk to their loved ones about it.

Well, listen, sis. People were lit to know that you were queer as fuck. It was exciting. [laughs]

[laughs] I was terrified.

You were scared? What did you think was gonna happen?

I thought people were gonna say, "Oh, she's doing this as a publicity stunt." I thought I wasn't gonna be able to go back home and be at all the barbecues. I had anxiety. And a lot of it was just untrue. It was my fear of what people were gonna say. And I'm thankful that I didn't allow that fear to get in the way of my freedom.

The entertainment industry has not caught up. We're making some waves, but we can do better. And again, it’s about normalizing and telling more stories, and inviting more LGBTQIA+ folks into the conversation on the front end, and giving us a seat at the table early on. Because we can’t afford to see things in a binary way. That’s not how the world works.

That’s the fear of being part of any marginalized group. That fear — of being black and queer and a woman and young — that fear of erasure is really real. And being a public figure, coming forward with your identity and allowing people to be emboldened by that and inspired by that — back in the day, women like you were erased.

I talk about Sister Rosetta Tharpe all the time. She was black and queer and big, and invented rock and roll. And where is she? Where are her monuments? And by setting the example, you can help us change that, and counter that kind of erasure.

Are there any black queer women and artists that you wanna shout out? I feel like we need to get the flowers to these women.

Yeah! I love Lena Waithe. Having her representing on the film side and as a producer, a writer, and the fact that she's thriving and so successful, it’s encouraging. Lorraine Hansberry. Bell Hooks. Meshell Ndegeocello. Who else? I just hope we can get to a point where black women who don’t identify as strictly heterosexual are normalized.

Yes. And making it more intersectional as well, and including trans women in that narrative. I love Janet Mock. I am obsessed with her.

Yeah, me too! She is an incredible woman. And I love MJ Rodriguez. I love Indya Moore. I love Laverne Cox. Those women are amazing, and they are, every single day, normalizing what it means to be a trans woman, and speaking their truth and walking in it.

Amen. It’s all about representing. I just wanna pass out flowers and receive flowers, that’s all I wanna do. I think representation is so important. I wanna see drag queens at the Oscars. I wanna see a drag queen host the Oscars. Can that happen?

Listen, if it was on my watch, I would make sure it happens. I think the entertainment industry has not caught up. We're making some waves, but we can do better. And again, it’s about normalizing and telling more stories, and inviting more LGBTQIA+ folks into the conversation on the front end, and giving us a seat at the table early on. Because we can’t afford to see things in a binary way. That’s not how the world works.

No! It’s a spectrum, and everyone needs to realize and respect it. Respect the spectrum!

You also work with Time’s Up, and I think that’s really important. We gotta protect women’s rights. What work are you doing moving forward to help LGBTQ people gain a foothold in the film industry and media? And how has Time’s Up helped open up some doors?

I'm honored to be a part of Time’s Up and support women. And that's inclusive of all women. As a black woman, however, that's what I know and that's the lens that I'm looking at things through. Whether it be behind the scenes, producing and engineering, to writing or being in front of the camera, there's a lot more work that needs to be done.

I've also started my own organization, Fem the Future, which is a grassroots organization that provides opportunities across the entertainment and the arts, through mentorship and education, for those who identify as women. Through our work, we try to highlight and empower women behind the mic, behind the camera, the stage, the screen, the boardroom. Everywhere. And I founded Fem the Future because I was looking to collaborate with more women on the engineering side and production side and songwriting side, and it was so difficult to find women in these roles. It was frustrating. And I understood why. I said, "Oh, okay. We gotta make more noise." And so I decided to do something about it.

With Dirty Computer, I made a bigger declaration to myself — that I'm not putting out an album if I can't be all of me. You're gonna take the blackness, you're gonna take the fact that I love science fiction. You're gonna take the fact that I am a free ass motherfucker. You're gonna take that all in and because that is what you're gonna get.

That's amazing. I think women are phased out of creative industries by the quote-unquote “boy’s club” way early on. It’s more than just getting them the job — it's giving them the training, making them feel comfortable enough to make mistakes and lean into something and have a girl’s club. So they can get all the experience they need to be at the top of the game.

Let me tell you. It's not that we're not there, we're just not given the opportunity. We can compete at a high level. It's what you said, it's about us pulling for each other. And it's about men, also, who are in the experience of power actively seeking out more women. As artists, we get the opportunity to have this platform and shine light. And that’s the blessing.

Yes. I want to segue into you as an artist, and the music you’ve created and brought into the world. People who know you know that you're in control of the Janelle Monáe story, and your saga, and how the saga unfolds. Can you walk me through your character arc from The ArchAndroid all the way to Dirty Computer, and all of the things you've learned about yourself through your music?

That's a great question. I like to think that I know everything that a project is gonna do and be when I go into it — “I'm gonna go in and write this song, and it's gonna mean this.” But you know like I know, once you put something out and you sit with it, you find out new things that you weren’t even paying attention to. People will come up to you and say, "This is what this means to me." And you're like, "Wow, I had no clue that that's what I was saying, and that you would feel that way after you heard it." The beauty of art is that it reveals itself over time, even to the artists who create it.

I think I do have strong visions; I always have strong visions. With ArchAndroid, I knew what I wanted the content to be, and I used the tools that I knew how to use at that time to create it. In my projects, I always challenge myself to grow and learn my voice and how to stretch beyond what I can comfortably do. So I started to engineer myself more, which meant I got to spend more time with me. I produced as well. And I'm a writer, and a storyteller. So as I grow and as I'm taking in information and growing at this exponential rate, I try my best to create music and albums that support that, that allow me to completely be all of me.

Yes. Take it or leave it. Making music — is that therapeutic for you, working through all of that?

Well, yeah. It is hard. It takes discipline to finish an album, to really sit down and say, "Okay, I need to show up." You gotta show up mentally. You can't just show up when every day is beautiful and you have the perfect candle and flowers there and it's smelling good. You gotta work through it. Even when I didn't feel like writing, I wrote, because it was important to challenge myself, to stretch my muscles and finish.

I didn't feel like I had all the time in the world to write Dirty Computer. When you think about the state of this country, when you think about who's in office, when you think about having a Vice President who believes in conversion therapy, and you think about how 77 percent of LGBTQ teenagers surveyed in 2018 report feeling depressed or down over the past week — I didn’t think that this album could wait.

I read from the Trevor Project that suicide is the second leading cause of death among young people aged 10 to 24. And that LGB youth contemplate suicide at at least three times the rate of a heterosexual youth. When you think about our trans brothers and sisters, our trans sisters being murdered, and when you just look at the state of the world, and when I'm working on an album like Dirty Computer that is centered around uplifting marginalized groups and those who feel isolated and outcast from our society, this album couldn’t wait. I had to get really focused.

And I also didn't wanna filter myself. I wanted to say it how I felt it. If I was upset, if I was feeling sexually liberated, if I was feeling afraid and vulnerable, whatever feelings I had, I laid it all out on the table. Once I finished, that was how I measured success. That's how I measured if I was gonna be proud of this work — did I show up? Did I show up?

Wow. When you talk about the world like that, and you lay all of those devastating facts ... It's not even facts. It’s what's happening to real people.

It can make self-care feel like a luxury, when people are being so aggressively oppressed — not just in their own neighborhoods, but throughout the country, by our administration. And because my messaging is self-care, because my messaging is self-love, it makes me want to reappropriate the term “self-care” into something that could save your life. It’s an idea that’s becoming trendy right now, but it’s much more than that. It’s like, “How do I take care of myself in this world that's not designed to take care of me?”

Artists like us, who do have a message in our music and connect with people on that level, have a responsibility to make self-care less about a fluffy day at the spa and help people in our community understand how important it is. How did you find self-care while you were dealing with talking about your sexuality to your friends and family in your community, and also while making Dirty Computer? And how can we repurpose that and help younger people learn that that term is more than just a trend?

I think one of the greatest gifts that I've been given as my therapy is music, is art. It's a gift that I honestly wish everybody could have and receive. And I think mental health is an issue in all communities, but particularly suicide rates, like I mentioned before, in the LGBTQIA+ and black communities. My community was not pushed to go spend their check on a therapist. It was, spend your check on some new Polo shirts and some Jordans. We weren’t taking our money growing up as teens and going to therapy. And I think a lot of us could benefit from that. But I do know that not a lot of people can afford it. And what I hope is that we can put more money into the mental health system around the world for young folks.

I love the Trevor Project. I love a place in New York called The Center. There are lots of places that offer help and therapy for those who have been pushed out of their homes. But I think what I've been able to do through albums like The ArchAndroid or The Electric Lady or Dirty Computer is to be able to talk about where I am at that time, and to release it and speak it out loud. And that has helped me immensely.

And also, I think it's important for us to be particular about the people we're hanging out with, too. I love the fact that I can be who I am at Wondaland with people who are inviting and patient with me as I walk through my process. And I think that it's our friends and our loved ones that we speak to and communicate with every day who can add to releasing pressure — the pressure and weight that we feel as we're trying to navigate life and walk through life, and embrace the things that make us unique.

You know what I noticed? The more I started loving myself, and the more I started self-caring, the people around me changed and became more conducive to that. The people who were toxic and weren't conducive to a self-loving nature just were segued out by God, by the universe, by my energy just repelling them. And I wish it didn't have to be that way, I wish it was the other way around. I wish that the people around us could help us find self-care and self-love. But that's unfortunately not the world that we were given.

We have to create our own worlds. And I think that mentorship is so important. Like you were saying, therapy's expensive. But mentorship can be free. And that's something that we can start with. Especially in lower income communities, the black community. But for now, we just have you.[laughs] We have music. People are looking to Dirty Computer and artists like you as mentors, long distance mentors. And I think it's really special that you hold that place in people's hearts and that it's reaching a culture. You can watch Queer Eye and see your influence. I'm just so happy to breathe the same air as you.

Oh, please. I’m happy to breathe the same air as you. You also are a free ass motherfucker to me in the way that you approach how you perform, how you love yourself publicly, how you embrace your body. And you're just gorgeous. On stage, offstage, the fact that you play an instrument, the fact that you're writing, the fact that you have ideas as a black woman — you are redefining what it means to be young, black, wild, and free in this country. And you are someone I actively look to whenever I feel like second guessing if I should take risks or not. Because I see the risks that you're taking and the love and appreciation that you show for yourself makes me lean further into loving and respecting myself, and being patient with myself, and not allowing myself to live by anybody's standards.

We are the standard. Thank you, sis. And you know what? Just keep rockin' in the free world, keep showin' 'em what it is. In every industry.

I will. You too. Let’s do it together. Collaboration. Come back over so we can keep on going. I cannot wait for your album. It's time. You've got to put a dent in the culture and in the planet. Rightfully so.

Let’s go. Let’s go!

Photographer: Justin French

https://www.them.us/story/janelle-monae-living-out-loud

#janelle monae #janellemonae #lizza #them.

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spn-rewrites · 5 years

Text

01x09 (part 1)

Season One Episode Nine: Home

Summary: Sam’s secret makes the reader feel a little less alone but also brings them to the one placce that Dean swore he would never return to: home.

Word Count: 3.9k

part 2

Dean sat at the table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading over the newspaper for a new gig. You laid in bed next to Sam, who was drawing a tree of some sort on the hotel notepad. “I think I found a few candidates for our next gig,” Dean said.

You looked up at Sam, his eyes were tired and his eyebrows were scrunched up in focus or worry or confusion. You didn’t really know what. He woke you up in the middle of the night panting and sweating. “Are you okay?” You mumbled to him in your sleep. He looked over at you and whispered a yes over and over again before laying back down. It wasn’t convincing but you were tired and so you went back to sleep. You thought he did, too, but the bags under his eyes said otherwise.

“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali. It’s crew vanished. And we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas,” Dean listed off but Sam wasn’t listening to him. “Hey!” He called out, getting his brother’s attention. You kept looking at the notepad, wondering what the heck he was drawing that kept his attention for that long. “Am I boring you with this hunting-evil stuff?”

“No, I’m listening. Keep going,” Sam told him and returned back to his drawing. You looked at Dean, who gave you a look of confusion and you just shrugged your shoulders. If Sam wanted Dean to see what he was drawing, he would have shown him by now so you kept it for your the two of you only.

“Here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head three times,” Dean said, holding up three fingers and waving them in the air, trying to get Sam’s attention.

You tapped Sam’s arm and he looked at you briefly, “hhm?” He asked before looking back at his notepad.

“Are any of these things blowing up your skirt, pal?” Dean asked his brother but Sam was flipping through the pages of the same drawing and his mind was turning and scanning all his memories for this stupid tree and then he froze.

“Wait, I’ve seen this before,” Sam said, getting off the bed and walking towards his duffle bag.

“Seen what?” Dean asked. You crawled to the edge of the bed, curious to see what Sam was going to pull out of his bag. What meaning this tree had that had him so entranced in it. Dean looked to you for answers but you were looking at Sam. “What are you doing?”

Sam handed you the notepad and you looked at in closer detail. You didn’t recognize it at all but Sam threw John’s journal on the bed next to you and pulled out a family picture of the boys with their mom and dad. Sam was just a baby and Dean was only a kid and they looked so happy and the fact alone that Mary was in the photo signified that it was at their old house, probably only weeks before she died. Sam grabbed the sketch back from you and held the photo up to it. The tree was the same as the tree in the photo.

“Guys, I know where we have to go next,” Sam said, looking from you to his brother.

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Back home. Back to Kansas,” Sam said. He was so sure of himself but you took the photo from his hands and looked at it. Why was this tree engraved in his brain? Why was he so sure something was going to happen that they needed to go back to the place that Dean dreaded ever returning to?

You saw the look on Dean’s face when Sam said that. Shock and nervous. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”

Sam grabbed the photo from you and walked over to where Dean was sitting. He put the

photo in front of his brother, who looked at it like it was nothing. “Our old house didn’t burn down completely. They rebuilt it, right?” Sam asked.

“I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talking about?” Dean was right. Sam sounded like a crazy person right now and his eyes were wide and filled with certainty.

“This is going to sound crazy,” Sam started as he sat down across from his brother. You brought the notepad with you to the table but kept it pressed against your chest as Sam talked. “The people who live in our old house, I think they might be in danger,” Sam said.

“Why would you think that?” You asked, remembering his panicked state in the middle of the night. Maybe, what happened to you this past week wasn’t as crazy as you thought because maybe Sam was experiencing the same thing. What if he saw this tree in a dream?

“Uh, I just. Um,” Sam stuttered before getting up and quickly walking over to his duffle and started to pack. “Just trust me guys,” Sam said.

“Trust you? That’s weak man, you gotta tell us more than that.”

“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam said and you got it. You felt that. He kept packing but Dean stood his ground. You kept the notepad close to you and Dean looked at you and then at it, pointing at it when Sam wasn’t looking.

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain it,” Dean told his brother. You stepped closer to Dean and put your hand on his arm and he looked at you.

“We should just trust him on this, Dean. Okay?” You asked, pleading with him with your eyes. Sam watched as the two of you were in a starring match over who was going to win this silent argument. Force it out of him or go in peace, those were your options and you voted for whichever made Sam feel okay.

“I’ll tell you,” Sam gave in. You shot him a look and Dean smiled, boasting about him winning but you had a pit in your stomach. “I have these nightmares,” he started. “And sometimes, they come true.”

“Come again?” Dean slightly chuckled, trying not to make light of the situation but you knew he thought it was crazy but as Sam talked, you knew that neither of you were alone in this.

“Look, I dreamt about Jess’s death for days before it happened.”

“Some people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” Dean speculated. You didn’t want Sam to feel alone if he was airing out his dirty laundry you wanted to air out yours.

“Is it also a coincidence that at the Pike house I had a vision of the roof caving in on us in the

attic?” You asked, getting looks from both of the boys.

“What? Is that what happened?” Sam asked, finally getting a straight answer out of you for the question he had been asking since the day it happened. You nodded and Sam put his hand out for you and you took it. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“The same reason you didn’t tell us,” you told him.

“Look, guys. We have a weird job, we’re gonna dream and imagine weird things. The worst case, ya know?” Dean still pushed for a logical explanation.

“No, I dreamt about the blood dripping from the ceiling and I didn’t do anything about it because I didn’t believe it and now I’m dreaming about that tree. About that house and some woman inside screaming for help,” Sam explained. His voice was panicked as if it went ignored he would regret it for his whole life. Like he has to make up for Jessica’s death with this family’s. “That’s where it all started. This has to mean something.”

Dean just looked at you guys in awe. You sounded crazy, you knew that. The whole thing was just insane and he just shook his head. “I don’t know, guys.”

“What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. This might be the thing that killed mom and Jessica,” Sam cried, sitting back down across from Dean. You stay in your spot, listening to him and happy to not feel alone but this was clearly eating him up a lot more than your own vision was to you.

“All right, just slow down, would you?” Dean snapped, getting out of his seat and standing up. He chuckled and licked his lips, looking between you and Sam with tears in his eyes and you wanted to hug him. “I mean, first the two of you are telling me that you’ve got the fucking shining and now you’re telling me I gotta go back home. Especially when,” Dean trailed off, not making eye contact with either of you and then you got it. You knew Dean didn’t want to go back there but now it really clicked for you. Why he was pushing so hard.

“When what?” Sam asked.

“He swore to himself that he would never go back,” you answered for him. His shoulder fell a little in relief that he didn’t have to say it and you walked to him. He looked at you and you nodded at him, letting him know you’ve got him no matter what. “But we gotta go, Dean,” you said.

Dean turned around and looked out the window and Sam turned to you. “We gotta check this out, Dean,” Sam said to his brother but he was looking at you. You put a hand on Dean’s back and he looked to you out of the corner of his eye.

“I know we do,” Dean whispered and put his head against yours. Sam looked to you guys like he had never witnessed this before. The sad side of Dean that you always comforted but ever since Sam left, it was the two of you against the world even when John was there. Dean wasn’t as strong as he liked to pretend he was and you were the only person that he showed that too until now. Until Sam came back and just because Sam was here and you loved him didn’t mean you could abandon Dean and when he wrapped his arms around you, you hugged him back.

Dean pulled up in front of the old house, his eyes watching it closely. There were toys littered across the lawn and the bushes were overgrown and the grass looked neglected but Dean looked at it like he hadn’t changed. “You gonna be all right?” You asked from the backseat. Dean took a long sigh and looked back at you.

“Let me get back to you guys on that,” he said. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and the three of you got out of the car and headed up to the door. He was taking it a lot better than you thought he would be taking it. He was even the one to knock on the door and start talking first when a pretty blonde lady answered the door. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am but we’re with the federal -”

“I’m Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean and our friend, Y/n. We used to live here,” Sam interrupted his brother, catching you both by surprise by telling her the truth from the get-go. “You know, we were just driving by, and we were just wondering if we could come see the old place.” Sam was trying to peer behind her into the house and she smiled hesitantly at the three of you.

“That is so funny, you know. I think I found some of your photos the other night,” she finally said.

“You did?” Dean asked. The lady nodded, opening the door wider and letting you guys into the house. It barren and empty, not at all how you imagined it to look like when the boys were living here. You looked at the fireplace and imagined photos of Dean playing in the backyard on the mantle and John and Mary’s wedding photos hung on the wall.

In the kitchen, a little boy bounced up and down in his playpen calling for juice. Juice, juice, juice, juice. You imagined that to be Sam, calling for his mom as Dean did his homework at the table where a little girl was sat at. “That’s Richie. He’s kind of a juice junkie. But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy,” the lady joked, grabbing a juice bottle from the fridge and giving it to the little boy, calming him immediately. The lady put her hands on the little girl’s shoulders and smiled at her. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean and Y/n. The boys used to live here,” she told her daughter. Sam greeted the girl and you smiled at her while Dean was only focused on the woman.

“So, you just moved in?” He asked.

“Yeah, from Witchita.”

“You got any family here?”

“No. I just, uh, needed a fresh start,” she explained. She started going on and on about how she needed a new town, a new job, a new house. She sounded like she had been through some shit, but she kept a smile on her face as she aimlessly cleaned the counters.

“So how are you liking it so far?” Dean asked her, pushing for any information that could lead to even a hint of the reason you were here. You had nothing to go on besides Sam’s dream and that wasn’t super reliable.

“Oh, all due respect to your childhood home. I’m sure you have lots of happy memories here,” she started, taking a deep breath and thinking about what to say, “but, this place has its issues.”

“Like what?” You asked her.

“Well, it’s just getting old, like, the wiring and stuff. You know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.” Flickering lights.

“Oh, well that’s too bad. What else?” Dean sounded so monotoned like he was here for a mission and a mission only. Like being in that kitchen didn’t stir up any memories for him and you knew he was suppressing any feelings he may have been feeling and you knew he was pushing harder than usual so he could leave quicker than usual but his face was emotionless.

“Sinks backed up, there are rats in the basement. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to complain.” The woman brushed you guys off and waved the wet wag in the air she was just using to clean.

“Have you seen the rats? Or just heard scratching?”

“Just the scratching, actually,” she said after thinking about it for a moment. If it was just the scratching, it could be anything. That combined with the flickering lights could lead to good evidence pointed towards a spirit lurking around.

Sari whispered towards her mom, getting her attention. Her mom kneeled on the ground and listened to her daughter whispering but she whispered loud enough for you to hear. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here,” she said.

“What?” You asked.

“The thing in my closet,” Sari said, turning towards you now when she spoke. That got your attention even more and the boys exchanged a look between each other and then with you, all having the same thoughts.

“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Her mother shook her head and smoothed her hair down to her head. It was already perfect. “She had a nightmare the other night,” she explained to you. You nodded and gave her a smile but Sari had more words.

“I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire,” she explained. She sounded adamant. Like she was so sure of what she saw and you believed her. The boys believed her. Sam’s hand went to your elbow and he grabbed it, giving you a signal that you needed to leave and discuss this, now.

You said your goodbyes and left the house, Sam storming down the porch steps. His face was flushed and he was walking fast but Dean was walking faster and you were just trying to keep up with the two of them. “You hear that? A figure on fire!”

“And that woman was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, and you hear what she was talking about? Flickering lights, scratching. Both signs of a malevolent spirit!” Sam pointed out. His voice was loud and urgent and he was freaking out and you were freaking out and so was Dean. He was more on edge than either one of you about the whole thing.

“Yeah well, I’m just freaked out your weirdo visions are coming true,” he said as you followed him down the middle of the road to the Impala. It was like a race to get the heck out of there and you were losing.

“Oh, would you forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed mom and Jessica?” Sam snapped, trying to see Dean’s face. Trying to gauge what he was thinking or feeling but Dean just snapped back.

“I don’t know!”

“Well, has it come back or has it been there the whole time?” Sam asked some more questions that no one knew the answer to and Dean shook his head as you finally reached the car and you could catch up.

“Would you slow down?!” You yelled. Both physically and with the topic of conversation. The boys came to a halt and looked at you. You paused to catch your breath, the cold air making it a little bit harder to do so. “We need to breathe for a moment and think about this before jumping to all these conclusions,” you said.

“It could be something else entirely. We don’t know yet,” Dean added. Sam was right - there was something going on in that house but there’s no way to know for sure what it was and what to do about it but Sam had his dream and was certain something awful was going to happen and you guessed that his panic came from not knowing when.

“Those people are in danger,” Sam said.

“And we will help them but we need more information, Sam.” You put your hands on his shoulder, looking in his eyes. His face softened but he was still worried, you could tell. He licked his lips and sucked in his bottom lip. Fuck.

“We have to get them out of that house,” he said.

“And we will,” Dean answered, rounding the car to the driver’s seat. He was beyond done with this conversation, you knew that and Sam knew that. Dean wanted to get away, leave that house behind and you guys were lucky he even came in the first place.

“No, I mean now,” Sam said, raising his voice again.

“And how are you gonna do that? Huh? You got a story she’s gonna believe?” Dean snapped at him. They couldn’t stop fighting about it. Both of them were on edge and you tried your best to be a voice of reason but you couldn’t keep up.

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

“Well first, we need gas so get in the freaking car.” Dean opened his door and got in, slamming it behind him. Sam sighed and looked down at you. You shrugged, rubbing his arm gently and gestured towards the car.

The conversation continued at the gas station as you guys all leaned up against the car as it filled up. Voices were lower and calmer. Sam had time to think about it a little more rationally, you had time to catch your breath and Dean had time to cool his nerves about being around that house. “We gotta chill out, first. If this was any other kind of job, what would we do?” Dean asked.

“We’d try to figure out what we were dealing with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam answered. Dean was sitting against the hood of the car and you and Sam were leaning against the side of it until Sam pushed himself off and began pacing.

“Exactly but this time we already know what happened.”

“What if it’s happened more than just once? And how much do you really know? How much

do you remember?” You asked, looking over at Dean. He looked back at you out of the corner of his eye and took a deep breath, pursing his lips.

“About that night you mean?” You nodded. “Not much. I remember the fire. The heat. Then I carried you out the front door,” he said, looking at Sam now. Sam furrowed his brows and stepped closer to his brother. You had only heard John’s side of the story, never Dean’s. You never really asked because he always shut down.

“You did?”

“Yeah, you never knew that?” Sam shook his head and sat down on the hood next to his brother.

“You guys know dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was….she was on the ceiling and whatever put her there was long gone by the time dad got there,” Dean told the story the same way you always knew it but you never really could know it and the boys probably wouldn’t either. They were too young and you weren’t there so as close as this case hit to home for them, it was far from familiar.

“He never had a theory about what it was?”

“If he did, he kept it to himself.”

“If we’re gonna figure out what’s going on now, we gotta figure out what happened back then and see if it’s the same thing,” Sam finally said, making a real game plan.

“Talk to John’s friends, neighbors. People who were there at the time,” you added, naming the usual people of interest in cold cases like these. John was still nowhere to be found and you needed him really, more than ever.

“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam chuckled but it wasn’t real. He looked to his brother who just starred off into the distance before excusing himself to the bathroom and pushing off of the hood of the car, causing it to rock back and forth.

When it was just the two of you, Sam looked at you. “Are you okay?” You asked.

Sam shrugged, “is he gonna be okay?”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

Sam chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “I’m happy you’re here,” he admitted.

“Happy to be here.” Sam laughed softly to himself. “What if it’s not the same thing?” You asked the question that had been plaguing your mind since you left the house. Sam was so sure it was that you didn’t know what would happen if it wasn’t.

“Then we still save some people but what if it is?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my freak vision,” you said. There wasn’t much time to talk about it in between Sam’s very real and very important one and now.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about mine,” he joked back, winking at you. You smiled softly, looking up at him. His eyes were burning into yours, scanning them and searching for something. He glanced up and then back to you. “We can talk later, Dean’s coming back,” he whispered.

tagged: @matchamendes @stuckupstucky @sillydecoy jessewa26 @kaelyn-lobrutto24@liztorr1212 @icanreadbookstoo

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huntertales · 5 years

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Part Three: You Can’t Fix the Past. (As Time Goes By S08E12)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader are surprised when a man who claims to be Henry Winchester, the boys’ grandfather, suddenly appears in their motel room closet demanding to know where he can find John. Henry has time traveled to the future to stop a demon named Abbadon. Through their grandfather, the brothers and the reader learn more about their bloodline and legacy. The reader even learns about her father, Andrew, and his own past that turned him into a demon. Word Count: 5,341. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

After meeting time traveling grandparents and facing against a demon that tagged along for the ride, you and the boys knew there wasn't much else you could do to make this situation any better. So you decided to do the next best thing to prepare for tomorrow, rent a motel room and call it a night. You didn't realize how much stress of today and riding around for hours put a toll on your body. When you were finally off your feet and doing what you did best, searching for someone that was supposed to be a ghost, you felt somewhat at peace for the first time. Your mind was still buzzing with questions about your father, and while you wanted them answered, you weren't sure how to go about it. And if you really wanted to hear more about his past.

Curiosity killed the cat, your mother would always say when you asked one more question when she told you something that left you wanting to know more. It was always followed by why? How? Sometimes things are best left unsaid. Because when you learn the truth, you can't ever take the emotion it brings out back. It’s forever in your memory, there to haunt you whenever it feels like it, lingering in the depth of your mind. She was right about that from the aspects of your life you’d do anything to forget. But you couldn’t. They were there forever to torment you.

You wondered what she would think if she found out her husband was a lot like her. Someone who knew about the supernatural and supposedly tried to make a better world. Not to mention the small details like having known John's father, being twice her age and being a demon for over a decade. All before being turned into a human again. How? You had no clue. He spent his entire life living a life until his dying breath. So did your mother. They were the perfect couple.

Every so often your eyes wandered away from the laptop screen and the double beds just across the motel room, their fluffy pillows and clean sheets were calling your name. It'd been a long day of running around, dealing with a demon bitch you had no idea who she was and now you were trying to find a man who might be your only clue into figuring out why a box was so important it cost the lives of two men and turned one into a demon. While you attempted to focus your concentration once again, you worked for a few more minutes before you found your eyes wandering away from the laptop screen when you heard Henry whistling to himself to pass the time.

Sam, who had been sitting by your side flipping through John's journal, found himself broken away from his concentration at the noise. He found himself overcome with a sense of familiarity at the tune. He swore he heard it so many times over the years, for a moment it brought him back this childhood. "What is that? I know that tune."

"'As Time Goes By.'" Henry said from his position on the couch while you and the boys occupied the table just across the way. "I sure hope so. It's from Casablanca."

"It's still the same old love story. A fight for love and glory. A case of do-or-die. The world will always welcome lovers. As time goes by." You found yourself softly singing the familiar song, the words and music permanently engraved into the back of your brain. A smile tugged at the ends of your lips when you remembered the black and white film some people might have claimed to be the best movie ever made. You knew it was a classic, and you saw it too many times to count, but you cherished it for different reasons. "My mom always said it was my dad's favorite film. I watched it so many times as a kid I broke the VHS tape."

"Right." Sam said. He smiled himself at how a simple song from one of the greatest black and white movies held different memories for all of you. Dean was a bit unsure of what made it so important until his brother reminded him. "Dad used to whistle it from time to time."

“John saw ‘Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy’ at the drive-in one night. It scared the beeswax out of him. So I got him this little music box that played that song to help him sleep at night.” Henry told you an intimate story about John that made you realize he was a child once. An innocent mind who thought monsters in the shadows were there to snatch him out of his bed, but they would go away with a simple reassurance from his own father that the closet was empty and under the bed was safe. Henry smiled to himself as he shifted slightly in his seat so he was now leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs. "It worked like a charm."

You found yourself smiling at the thought of a small John Winchester being terrified of a mummy that probably wasn’t that scary to begin with from the lack of any real horror gore they tried to do back in the day. Sam chuckled to himself at how he was hearing his father being portrayed in a way that he never seen before. “Wow, it’s hard to believe Dad was ever scared of anything.”

"Hey, Nancy Drew." Dean's voice broke your concentration away from his grandfather and back to him, making the smile on your face slowly fade away. You gave him a slightly confused look as to why he was acting so weird. "You find anything yet?"

"Uh, yeah. According to county records, Tom Carey lives in Lebanon Kansas, and is a very happy one hundred and twenty-seven year old." You told them your findings that took little effort to find. You shut your laptop and let out a yawn you’ve been fighting off when the work you needed to do was finally done. "I don't know about you boys, but I am beat. I say we get some shut-eye, head over first thing in the morning."

“Wait, wait, wait. Listen to this.” Sam said. You let out a frustrated sigh when he forced you to sit back down in your seat so he could tell you what he found. “According to Dad’s journal, he once tortured a demon that said he made his bones working for Abbadon, who, it turns out, is a knight of hell.”

“What does that even mean?” Dean asked.

You knew there was different ranks of demons that signified how powerful and important they were to their creator during their creation. The older they were, the more stronger they were. But you’ve never heard of one being called a knight. Of course there was a lot of new things you were learning tonight, and Henry was providing you with some insight. "Knights of hell are hand-picked by Lucifer himself. They are of the first-fallen, first-born demons."

“So very pure, very strong.” Sam said. It explained why the knife didn’t work on her like the rest of her kind. Because she wasn't like the rest of the demons you faced against in your time. She was more powerful than you gave her credit for. Which meant taking her down was going to be more complicated than you thought.

"Legend has it that archangels killed all of them," Henry said, getting up from his spot up from the couch as he walked forward to the table. "which as we witnessed, is not the case."

"Unless she's the last of her kind." You mumbling, wondering if that was the case.

Henry nodded his head slowly, figuring that might be the case here, but his concentration found itself slipping away from the conversation and to the leather bound journal in Sam’s hands. The very one you looked through what felt to be hundreds of times. Much as you thought you could recite it line from line, you always found a new passage you didn’t remember reading. A piece of information that helped you and the boys out on a hunt. Henry gestured a hand to the journal and asked, “You say that belonged to your father?”

“Yeah.” Sam said. Henry asked if he could take a look at it, the younger Winchester slid it across the table for his grandfather to inspect it for himself and all his son accomplished over the years. “It’s a hunter’s journal. I assume Men of Letters—you use journals, too?”

“I intended to. I sent away for one the day before my initiation.” Henry said. He examined the picture of his son for a moment that was taken when he was in the Marines, drastically different from the small child he remembered saying good night to before ending up here. Lifting up the small photo, he noticed his own initials engraved into the leather. “As a matter of fact, judging by my initials here, this one, I believe.”

“That was yours?” Dean asked in a rather surprised tone of voice at hearing the origin of where his own father got the journal from.

“It must have arrived after…” Henry started to say something, but he found himself trailing off from his thought. He stared down at the journal for a moment that was intended to be his own. But over time it was shown that didn't turn out to be the case. “I'm beginning to gather I don't make it back from this time, do I?”

"We don't know for sure." Sam admitted to the man in a quiet tone. "All we do know is that Dad never saw you again."

“What did he think happened to me?”

"He thought you ran out on him." Dean told the man. Family was always proven to be a tricky topic in your life, and it always seemed to be more complicated than it was intended to be.

Henry sat down on one of the empty chairs, feeling himself become overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions at what he was hearing. “John was a legacy. I was supposed to teach him the ways of the letters.”

"Well, he learned things a little differently." Dean mumbled. Henry furrowed his brow slightly as he asked his grandson how. It was the exact same way the Men of Letters looked down on. John found out about the supernatural in the most brutal way possible. "The hard way. Surviving a lonely childhood, a stinking war...only to get married and have his wife taken by a demon who went after his own friends. And later, he was killed by one himself. That man got a bum rap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. He looked after Y/N like she was his own daughter. He never once turned his back on her. And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad."

There was a lot of things you didn’t like about John, from how he raised his children to his utter obsession that drove him to his grave. But there was no denying he was a good man at heart who tried to do everything in his power to make sure his boys were safe. And he never once looked at you any differently because of what your mother did. He took you in and raised you like you were his own daughter, giving you responsibilities to occupy your mind and checking up on you to make sure you were okay. That man would die for you like he had for his own son. And while you bumped heads with him on things, at the end of it all, he loved you like family. He got close to trying to be the father you never had.

“I’m sorry.” Henry muttered out an apology. “I wish I had been there for him.”

“Yeah, it’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?” Dean asked his own grandfather, wondering if all the effort he put into with the Men of Letters was really worth it in the end. You let out a quiet sigh when he pushed himself up to his feet and started walking towards the front door.

“It’s the price we pay for upholding great responsibility.” Henry said. “We know that.”

"Your responsibility was to your family, not some glorified book club! What kind of crap did you manage to do beside cost the lives of two men and turn another's life into a living hell? If you weren't so worried about yourself and some damn box maybe all of this could have been a little different." Dean said. He was letting his emotions control what he was saying to his own flesh and blood, and while they were cruel, you knew there was truth to them. "My father might have been something you look down on. But he taught me to treat friends like family. Even if they turn your back on you for years. Eventually you learn what our parents do for us is to keep us safe."

"Andrew was a victim to his own circumstances. I wish to God things were different." Henry said. You found yourself biting your tongue, refraining yourself from lashing out at him yourself at his way of thinking. "We were legacies. We have no choice."

"Yeah. Keep telling yourself that." Dean muttered underneath his breath.

You pushed yourself up to your feet and called out the older man's name when you saw him grab his jacket and make his way towards the front door like you feared. He had a tendency of running off when things tensed up and going elsewhere to cool off. You didn't think he should have been alone from how worked up he was getting himself. You managed to find him right before he could get into the Impala and drive off. While he stood in the parking lot trying to find the right key to unlock the car, you stepped forward and lightly grabbed a hold of him by his arm.

"Dean, come on. Come back inside." You tried to speak to the man in a calm voice, thinking you might be able to help him get over whatever sort of resentment he had towards his grandfather. Because it wasn’t going to change much of anything. "I know you’re upset. And you have every right to be. Parents suck. They do stupid things and pretend like it's the right thing to do. Out of anyone in this world, you know that."

"He abandoned his own son, Y/N. For some stupid club that was more important than anything else." Dean said. His tone of voice was lined with anger at the previous argument with his own grandfather at how they didn’t see eye to eye on things. You let out a quiet sigh at how he was letting his emotions get the best of him. “And he has the audacity to look down at his own son for what he decided to do? At least he never turned his back on us when we needed him.”

"Are you kidding me? John never showed his face unless it had to do with Azazel. He didn't even give us a phone call to check to see if I was all right after I was dying in a hospital bed. Not to mention, half the time when he checked up on me was only by a phone call because he needed some help on a case. It was always you actually made the effort to visit me. Never him.” You said to him. All though he knew what you were saying was true, Dean still held a different opinion. "I understand he's your father. You want to pretend he's this great man who didn't leave you weeks at a time when you and Sam were kids. Who didn't keep secrets from us that we're still finding out to this very day."

"Kind of like how you and Sam have been acting lately?" Dean's question took you by a bit of surprise. You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering what he meant by that. "Ever since Sam decided to stick around, I can't help but feel you two are...leaving me out of something. I thought all of us were back together. Like a family."

"We are." You didn't realize you might have accidentally answered a little too quickly when you spoke up, making Dean's suspicion grow slightly more. You tried to brush off the situation by giving him a smile as you placed your hands on his arms and gave them a squeeze, reassuring him that everything was fine. "Sam and I are just catching up on old times. That's it. I mean, don't tell me you're getting a little jealous because I'm spending a little more time with Sam and not you?"

"Y/N, don't." Dean mumbled. He softly dragged your hands down his arms as he brushed off your touch, making your arms fall back down to your side. You gave him a look, wondering what his problem was now. "You've been acting off these past few weeks. And I wasn’t going to say anything just yet, because maybe I thought you would come to me if there was.”

"Of course." You said to him. "You know I would."

"Then why do I feel like you and him are keeping something from me?" Dean couldn't help himself but he accidentally lashed out at you, directing his anger that was meant for his grandfather onto you. Your expression began to twist into the same kind he'd seen before when he tried to raise his voice at you, even the slightest than normal, and it would come out. You were growing pissed. "I know what Sam gave up was a lot to ask. And you want to do everything to give us a life where we're both happy. And I want to give that you and Sam. I really. There's not one part of me that doesn't want to settle down.”

Your mood began to slightly change at the way Dean was approaching the subject. You knew he was talking about the conversation you and him had just a few short weeks after being reunited back together, where you learned about Emma, and your desire to have a real family of your own. And if you were right, it was the night where you conceived. You felt a little part of you start to wonder if this was the right time to tell him about the secret that was causing all of this trouble to begin with. However the feeling only lasted long as it arrived when Dean continued on talking.

"But..." You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at the very word you should have known was coming. "It's not possible. Not right now, at least. You know that. We've got grandparents jumping out of motel room closets. Cas has been MIA. And we're not even close at figuring out how to close the gates of hell. It's just gonna have to wait. If that day ever does come for us."

"Wow. Aren't you such an optimist." You mumbled to him. Your lips stretched into a smile, not out of humor, but at how you thought all of this could have gone well. It wasn't. You felt yourself being pushed into a corner where you felt hopeless and alone. "And you wonder why I don't talk to you about these kind of things."

“I’m trying to be realistic here and not set you and Sam up for failure.” Dean said. “We don’t get happy endings, Y/N. We just do what we can and then we die. That’s it.” “What makes you think I want that? I don’t want a happy ending. I don’t want a ‘normal’ life. I use want some place to call home.” You suddenly found yourself snapping at him, telling him a sliver of truth that you had been keeping from him. “I just want someplace to settle down and not have to sleep in a motel or the backseat of the Impala. That’s all. Aren’t you getting tired of living on the road?” “I don’t know. I can’t miss something I never had.” Dean admitted to you. Your expression softened slightly at the hard truth he learned to accept. He didn’t want to your sympathetic stare. He wanted you to trust him. “Look, I just want you to know that you can come to me. Whatever you’ve been talking to Sam about. I‘m all ears. After all, I am your boyfriend.” “Yeah. And Sam’s my best friend. So?” You asked him, wondering what his relationship title had to do with anything. “I’m not hiding a friend you don’t know about. There’s no one else in my love life. There’s nothing you need to worry about. But there’s just some things Sam understands more logically than you. And there’s things I tell you that Sam doesn’t know.” “Like what?” Dean asked, wanting an example. You opened your mouth to think of one to keep this little white lie going without him suspecting a thing. Even though you knew it would be easier in the long run to just let it all out. You wouldn’t. Until you proved him wrong about being able to have both. To provide a proper living situation for him and his future child. “There’s just some secrets you don’t need to know about. End of story.” You said in a matter-of-fact voice. "Right. Because you and Sam sharing secrets always ends up fine." Dean’s muttered remark was only meant for him to hear. It was out of frustration from the way you were carrying on this argument. And while you should have brushed it off, you felt your breathing become heavier in anger. Because you knew what he said hit below the belt in a way that made you want to haul off and smack him. But if you did, then you would need to explain yourself to him. And you were too pissed off to have this discussion. "You’re such a dick. You wonder why I don’t tell you things. It’s exactly because of this. You have an opinion on everything. And if nobody thinks the same way as you then they’re automatically wrong.” You said. Dean's expression changed at how angry you were getting now. It seemed that he hit a nerve in you. “I can see it comes from your father’s side of the family.”

You didn't give him a chance to keep the argument going or a chance to apologize for what he said just a few moments ago. You left Dean standing in the parking lot as you stormed back to the motel room, roughly slamming the door shut to let everyone know you were pissed off. You forced yourself not to react on your emotions as you shrugged off your jacket and shoes, leaving them beside the front door. You walked past Henry, not caring if he heard every word. You didn't even look at Sam when you headed for the bed. You just wanted for this day to be over with.

+ + +

You fell right to sleep when you head hit the pillow, your anger and other sorts of emotions dragged to the surface from the argument you had with Dean was long forgotten from the exhaustion. You had been peacefully sleeping in the bed you claimed for a few hours before you were woken up by the feeling of someone's weight shifting the mattress. Inhaling a quiet breath, your eyes slowly opened to see a hazy figure that looked like someone you went to sleep pissed off at. Dean was standing over you, his flannel and jacket gone, shoes kicked off next to the bed. He was trying his hardest not to wake up, but it seemed his attempts failed. When you shifted around in bed and stared up at him, he found himself frozen in his spot.

“Henry took the couch and Sam’s passed out cold. Besides I think it'd be kind of hard trying to share a bed with that Sasquatch." Dean whispered. He waited a moment for you to throw a pillow at his face and tell him to take the floor. But he saw your lips stretch into a smile at the image. You moved over slightly in bed and gave him enough room for the both of you to share. He wasted no time getting into bed, the both of you getting comfortable. "I'm sorry for being a dick to you earlier." "I'm sorry for calling you one." You apologized back to him in a hushed voice so you wouldn't wake his brother. Dean reached out a hand and brushed a piece of hair out of your face. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and gave him a small smile, hopeful he might be able to see it in the darkness. "You were right about me not telling you things. I didn't mean to over react like that." "It's okay. A lot's been going on lately. I understand where you're coming from." Dean said. You nodded your head as you opened your mouth to tell him something, but all that came out was a yawn. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. We can talk about it tomorrow." There was no part of you that was going to argue with that. The both of you exchanged a whispered good night before you finally let yourself close your eyes, drifting back off to sleep in the arms of the man you loved. Dean might have been a pain in the ass, but he was yours. And in time you were going to prove him wrong. While you and the boys drifted off to a deep sleep, Henry felt awake, too restless with his own thoughts to even think about catching a wink. He was given an opportunity to look into the future to see how his only son lived and died. While he hadn't followed in the right path that Henry wanted, there was some happy thought to see his son had tried to do good in this world. But it wasn't easy.

John learned the hard way about the supernatural when his wife and Andrew, who his son called a good friend of his, someone who was almost like a brother he knew his whole life, was taken by a demon he called "Yellow Eyes." The same demon reappeared again fourteen years later, this time it took another victim, Ella, leaving her only daughter an orphan. He hunted monsters and lived well below who he was supposed to be, raising his own children in the ways that Henry never intended.

The entire journal was well put together, with information about creatures that Henry was familiar with, but never hunted during his studies. The pages that were intended for his own personal notes and thoughts were filled with John's, a man who was supposed to be a legacy, but died at the hands of a demon who took the people he cared for. Henry looked up from the pages and to the double beds that his grandsons and the daughter of a man he called a friend of his own occupied.

Sam occupied one bed, his large frame spread across as he peacefully slept across from his brother. You and Dean, who had been fighting just a few hours prior, occupied a bed together, Dean lying behind you with his arms circled around your waist and tangled with your own, resting on your stomach. All three of you were destined for so much greater. Only your lives was filled with misery and pain. Henry shut the journal and sat with his own thoughts for a while. He didn’t need to think too much about what he could do to fix this situation. He owed his son that much.

+ + +

"Hey. Wake up!"

You had been peacefully sleeping, enjoying a dream that was one of the rare good ones that kept you lying in bed, hoping you might be able to drift off for a little while longer to catch some more of the blissful feeling. But you were torn away from any such luxury by the sound of Sam's voice, followed by something that felt dense and yet soft hit you against your shoulder. Your eyelids involentarly opened ever so slightly to let in the morning light as you looked up to see Sam's giant frame looming over you. You let out a loud yawn as Dean managed to let out a few grunted words, wondering what the rude wake up call was about.

“Henry—he’s gone.” Sam told you. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as you tried your hardest to untangle yourself out of Dean's arms as you forced yourself to sit up, asking him where his grandfather went. "I don't know. He just left a note saying he was gonna fix everything."

“Yeah, or screw it all up.” You grumbled. You pushed yourself up to your feet as you let out yet another yawn, knowing there was only one real way to get yourself to wake up and figure out what the hell Henry was doing. "I call dibs on the shower first. You guys figure out what the hell your stupid grandfather is about to do."

It didn't take long for you to get ready for yet another long day you knew you were going to have ahead for you while you tried to figure out what Henry's big plan was. Dean checked the Impala to see if Henry snuck off with anything while you and Sam kept tabs online to see if you might be able to pick up any possible leads. You might not have found a place where Henry wandered off to, but Dean had a sneaky suspicion of what his grandfather was up to.

“Now we know what he meant by ‘fix everything.’” Dean said. He stepped back into the motel room after taking a look around the Impala to see if anything was missing, and sure enough, Henry helped himself to something important. "He broke into the trunk, stole an angel feather. I'm guessing he's gonna whip up another one of those blood spells and Marty McFly himself back to the 1950s."

“To do what?” Sam asked. “Stop Abbadon before she strikes?”

“Or grab your father and haul ass.” You could only guess what he would do as a parent to stop his son from ending up in this lifestyle where it ended up like this. “Look, point is he’s doing it.”

"How? He still needs two ingredients for the spell. Unless...Unless there's a place nearby that sells read hoodoo." Sam guessed. You had a feeling there had to be close by in walking distance. Dean busied himself with calling Garth as Sam headed for his laptop to see if he might be able to track one down. However he found himself momentarily distracted by the police scanner you had going this morning, a call about a murder caught his attention. "Hey. It just hit the wires—one dead at Astro Comics."

“Abbadon?” You guessed, already having a feeling you knew the answer.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “It has to be.”

“Okay, so she’s close. I’ll find Henry. You and Nancy Drew find Larry.” Dean said, coming up with a plan of action. “Find out how to kill this chick.”

You were more than happy to agree to the plan, wanting to be be out of the way of a demon you knew was going to be hard to take down. You had a feeling she was eager to go after one thing, this box that cost the lives of two men, and the only way to do that was to go after Henry.

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester @everything-i-tried-was-taken@starswirlblitz @albot-e @supernaturalismydrug @we-are-band-sexuals@angiewinchestercas@kaylinfayezink @owhatshername1 @kgbrenner @cleo-is-my-doggy@eeyore1988 @dakota-dream @lilylovelyxo@timetravelingginger@holahellohialoha @quicksilver123456@natashacamillaus @lexi-anastasia @kaylinfayezink @deanwnchstr @albot-eh@yelloweyedwriter@rashinyx2002 @shellybeans @icantfindacreativeurl@becs-bunker @oreosatmidnight @bands-and-shietz @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear @clarewinchester@releasethekracko@alex-zeppelin @mega-mrs-dean-winchester@theskytraveler @1000roughdrafts @notmoose94 @assassinofmasyaf@caswinchester2000 @savannah-m-99 @sunlight-dean @strayrosesbloom@that-slytherin-over-there

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mantra4ia · 7 years

Text

Salty Fangirl Moment, Vol 1

Strong Female Characters/Roles and views which subvert their impact

If you are reading this, I’m sorry. There really are better expository pieces out there about Female Lead Roles, but I wanted to share my reaction to types of opposition and extremism about two projects with strong female leads: Wonder Woman and Doctor Who. (spoilers ahead)

1. Wonder Woman (and the Conservative Curmudgeons)

I saw Wonder Woman multiple times from opening weekend up until today, in English and Spanish, with friends, by myself, and nothing has lessened my joy each time I watch. The movie has foibles in plot and some action sequences, but not when it comes to well written, acted, character, and that for me gives lots of leniency toward other missteps. Chris Pine is wonderfully genuine and generous in his acting to support the project and help everyone else shine, as do the other actors. Gal Gadot does not have much dialogue to carry, but she is expressive and really captures Wonder Woman’s youthful exuberance which was so refreshing. I loved the color grading, I loved the balance of big action and small moments and, DC movie fans can hate me all they desire, I love how it felt like a ‘Marvel movie’. Don’t get me wrong, I have liked some DC movies (Man of Steel, BvS, etc), but from recent experience I think Marvel has been stronger at building characters, relationship dynamics, and ensemble and letting them tell a story, whereas DC has been stronger at building plots, conflicts, action points, and then dropping characters in so that we as an audience watch them react and witness individual character growth. In that sense Wonder Woman felt ‘Marvel’ due to the character focused lens. And overall it was a solid 'A' because it was fun, spirited, passionate, and it filled the tank of enthusiasm as I left the theater each time.

But recently I confronted a group of women, and upon sharing my love for the film (casually in conversation of course *not*, it’s wasn’t as if I steered the conversation with a truth lasso *I totally did*) I was met with a lukewarm response. Still I pressed on trying to get to the source of resistance, countering each potential concern-

> “I loved it. 1. Even if you’re burned out of superhero movies, I think you’ll really like this. It’s character focused, and while it has a ‘mission’ the focus is really on two characters and their ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore’ stories. 2. If you like DC movies, you’ll like this, and if you’ve been disappointed by DC movies, you’ll still like this/ you should give it a chance because it’s not your typical origin story, it has a strong ensemble, it’s well paced for the most part (it doesn’t feel like a 2+ hour film, it flies!!!), and it’s a feel good film. 3. This is a passion project for all of those involved, you can really tell because it’s not a good superhero film, it’s a good film period.”

>>At this point, their reservations thawed and they asked “it sounds interesting, what’s it about?”

Now my mind is blown, because I realize they don’t know who Wonder Woman is from comics or hype, they haven’t seen articles or promo pics or previews (how is this possible), and I’m in charge of the classic elevator summary.

>“Oh, well it’s about Diana, aka Wonder Woman, she grows up on an island of amazon women sheltered from the outside world by Zeus, honing her skills as a warrior under the guidance of her aunt and mother to be on guard for Aries God of War. This all changes when Diana saves a human man, Chris Pine-”

>> “He’s from Star Trek, right?”

> “Yeah, sure. He’s a pilot who stumbled through the barrier from WWI and she joins his return to the war against the wishes of her family, because she believes she’s on Aries’ trail. So they get to the war and she helps fight back against Dr. Poison and the Germans…”

>> “Woah, she’s fighting Nazis. That’s too political for me. I don’t like it.”

> “But…but…you haven’t seen the trailer or gotten to know the characters.”

>> “Why does everything have to be about Nazis?”

> “That’s what I am saying: it’s not about Nazis. Its superhero fiction, it’s about fighting injustice whether it has a real world context or not.”

>> “I’m not going to see it, it sounds like it’s trying to make a statement or be trendy.”

dfggdjfjfklkghjdghghjdghjtkh,jkknfgkgfdghbdf,hvhgdjutg!!!!!!!!! AGGGGGH! Wonder Woman has been an icon forever and a day, and the best you can call her is trendy?!

For the love of god, you are ‘entitled’ to your like/dislike opinion but only on the contingent of citing the source material. Watch a trailer, and critique a movie intelligently for its content: acting / writing / pacing / shot selection/ cinematic style, or draw comparisons to other films for context. If you form an opinion without any ‘research’ I guess you’re allowed, but I’m allowed to call that opinion (not you as a person, but that particular statement) ignorant, ill-informed, fledgling, and flippant.

2. Doctor Who - 13th Doctor (and the Heel Draggers and Super Enthusiasts)

The casting of the 13th Doctor suffers the same kind of character undermining, but this time from men and women on both extreme ends of the spectrum. We’ve got, in a similar vein to the curmudgeons but at least more informed, the heel-draggers:

>>“1) Why do they have to cast a woman just because it’s PC/ a stunt/ publicity, 2) why do they have to shove an agenda in our face and 3) insult the traditions of the show I love. I’m not watching anymore.“

> I hardly think it has to do with the dreaded, often misused, recently catch-all term that we call political correctness. Out of all the regenerations, the dice isn’t always going to land on the same side. Secondly, believe it or not, all stories have an agenda called plot or arc, each writer/director/show runner has one. A casting choice of a different sex is not an agenda. And lastly, the show/fandom has many traditions; the fandom becomes richer as those traditions evolve, and the mark of a good writer/director/show runner is knowing the balance of constancy and change, and applying changes carefully with character or plot driven purpose. Sonic shades, sonic screwdriver, both? Converse or loafers? Raggedy or disco? As long as the Doctor is still the Doctor, still travels in the TARDIS, still values the same things, still has their past, and still has a companion, we might just survive!

But we also have the super enthusiasts who will fire first and ask questions later at any sign of dissent over the 13th Doctor. -

>>“1) The future is Female! Yes! Protect Jodie Whitaker at all cost. 2) Why are you worried about this casting, why aren’t you excited, you just don’t want the Doctor to be a woman. 3) Why don’t you like the trailer, you just don’t like change. 4) Power/ Control, we’ve got your superheroes, Doctors… 4) NOW A WHOLE BUNCH OF YOUNG GIRLS CAN COSPLAY AS THE DOCTOR (caps not mine, copied from a post)”

>Yes, the future is female, but a) that’s under the assumption she identifies as female and b) puleeeeasse Jodie Whitaker can protect herself as she feels so inclined, as can the whole Doctor Who creative team. Listen to opposition and evaluate if they have a valid point before you leap. Secondly, I’m not excited because I didn’t want the casting to be spoiled for me and it was, not because a woman was cast. And I’m not worried about a woman being cast - I can envision actresses in the part. I have concerns about Jodie Whitaker’s casting in conjunction with other circumstances outside her control. Every regeneration is always a gut check, and change is by nature uncomfortable: I’ve enjoyed and grown used to the male Doctor and companion dynamic, it doesn’t mean you should assume I hate the idea of a female doctor. Jodie in particular presents a challenge because I know her and associate her with roles that bias me, including Broadchurch and The Assets. Again, my bias = no one’s problem but mine. I think she’s mega talented, but in this case her notability makes me more uneasy as opposed to a hypothetical niche-known actress of equal talent; I like Doctor Who’s recent track record at finding someone “new” and Jodie is not as ‘new’ to me as I had hoped. I would have been more enthusiastic for someone who, unlike Jodie, hadn’t worked so recently with Chibnall, the new showrunner, to inject fresh excitement. Or at least if Bill, Nardol, or even Missy were still around to ease us in as a focal point that the audience can transition through, like Rose for Tennant or Clara for Capaldi. So ultimately its the culmination of ‘clean slate’ circumstances that I find most unnerving, not solely the new Doctor. And I still have to get over the “Doctor Who Stages of Regeneration Grief” for Capaldi before I can form a passionate opinion of a new actor.

Thirdly, I don’t like the “Introducing Jodie Whitaker” trailer because of the marketing choice - I find it boring and ‘too easy’ to build hype only to show Jodie’s face out from under a hood. It sends the absolutely wrong message for me that she’s a woman, not she’s the Doctor. Eccleston got to speak, Tennant got to speak, Matt Smith same, John Hurt same, Capaldi didn’t, but his first marketing intro was in the context of an episode in action, saving Gallifrey, being the Doctor, so it felt right. This felt a little cheap. And to those who see this as an opportunity for a female to be in power/control of the title role, give me a break. We’re not watching the same show. Doctor Who has never been about the Doctor being in control, more often than not it’s the TARDIS or companions, a majority of which have been played by actresses, that demonstrate force, a guiding hand, etc. I’m happy to have a female in the title role, I’m not happy with the fans who have narrowed the scope and don’t recognize the power that female characters have had all along in Doctor Who. Lastly, SWEET RASSILON ALIVE, girls have already been cosplaying as the Doctor since time immemorial because they identify with the character first not the actor/actress. I’m happy you’re happy that girls have an easily identifiable role model, but if you are going to praise the value of transcending gender roles assigned to a specific sex, its gotta work both ways or you are diminishing the character value.

My biggest grievance common to the people in all three points of opposition is the inability to simultaneously:

Have their own preferences while at the same time stepping outside their perspective to role play someone else’s view

Realize that both views can exist without invalidation of each other and

Undervaluing the IMPORTANCE OF THE WELL-WRITTEN CHARACTER.

So if everyone can do me a favor? Let’s have a moment of silence and LISTEN to Wonder Woman and the Doctor. Thank you.

#complex female characters #female characters #dw spoilers #wonder woman #misconceptions #jodie whittaker #13th doctor #extreme right #extreme left #can we just have moderation?#respect #and regularly step outside of our own opinions #so that we can grow a larger world view

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fountainpenguin · 7 years

Note

I have quite a few ideas for fanfics and original stories, but I get so bogged down in worldbuilding and analysis that coming up with a plot for people to actually read is much more difficult. Given your extensive headcanons for "The Fairly OddParents", how do you manage it? How do you snap out of Worldbuilding Mode, get into Storywriting Mode and stay there long enough to accomplish anything?

That… is a good question. Well, let’s walk through this together. This is gonna be a VERY BIG one (over 10k words because I’m just that extra), full of behind-the-scenes tidbits for my fanfics, but nothing I’d call super interesting for those who aren’t writers, so feel free to skip this one~

TL;DR: I’m weird. I work best when I choose how to manage my time. Spring break? Time to draw and watch cartoons! But adjusting my schedule so I can do homework AND study AND talk with friends AND answer Tumblr Asks AND research AND write? I will stop procrastinating in an instant, because suddenly there’s no time to lollygag. Why do you think I created the Mikey askblog? I was balancing my time suspiciously well and it was legit having negative effects in my life. I needed to add more pressure to my plate to force myself to work. I’m bizarre. You gotta make the time and have the right environment, I guess!

How to Write More Good: It’s Getting Drafty In Here!

(AKA, Riddle giving general advice on writing early drafts!)

.:: STARTING WITH AN IDEA ::.

(+ Basic Worldbuilding and Character Design)

My first FOP ‘fic was Baby, You’re a Rich Man. It came to be because “School’s Out! The Musical” was (and still is) my favorite episode of the series. After rewatching it half a dozen times, a few things occurred to me:

H.P. and Sanderson were moving away from the sunset in the opening scene, towards Kansas.

Flappy Bob grew up in an orphanage in Dimmsdale, California.

H.P. and Sanderson couldn’t use magic during that opening scene.

It would be more rational for them to take Flappy Bob to Pixie World and get new wands than it would be to drive all the way back to California.

So, that’s how I got the basic idea of, “How did that caring for a baby on a magic-free road trip go?”. While my headcanon base was not as extensive as it is now, I had pinned down the Pixie Wolbachia headcanon. That gave me the starting point I needed to strive into writing this ‘fic with confidence.

As for where my worldbuilding came from in the first place, my personal preference was to break the mold I saw. For example, I chose to focus heavily on real-life insect biology and science in my fanwork. Here are a couple of worldbuilding questions to get your gears turning:

How does society feel about expressing emotions in public?

What are society’s views of marriage?

Bathing? Eating? Taking vacations?

Greeting one another? Holidays? Schooling? Calendars?

Work hours? Who has jobs? How many? How does one get a job?

Living with those you’re related to? Aren’t?

Addressing figures of high status?

Look for basic, “obvious” things that we do in our lives and twist them, and maybe make something that would startle us totally acceptable in your work. It sounds like you’ve made good progress, but I thought I’d toss some thoughts out there for anyone who wants to write, but is lacking ideas in this area.

When writing fanfics, I would ask yourself questions like:

How closely do I want to stick to canon?

My family used to have this giant bucket of honey that said on the side, “Nothing added, nothing taken away”. In my case, I stick as close to canon as possible, and try to act with a policy of “everything added, nothing taken away”. That’s my personal preference, and it makes things easy because, with a few exceptions, no one has to try to remember which episodes are canon in my work, or who is on good terms with who in an AU.

What plot holes will my story address, avoid, or answer?

As mentioned above, I was curious about how H.P. and Sanderson made it to California, why they picked Dimmsdale, and how a magic-free road trip for people who rely so heavily on magic might have gone down. I had the opportunity to explore character relationships and the magic system of the FOPverse.

What worldbuilding elements did canon give that I can expand on?

Wands, Pixies Inc., godchildren, memory wiping, other species, fantastic racism, pixies all looking alike, magical creatures getting drunk on candy and soda, Da Rules…

What is my take on Character A?

I see Sanderson as loyal and devoted; he’d sacrifice himself for H.P. and can’t be convinced to betray him. He craves recognition for this, and is desperate for H.P. to refer to him as his son. He doesn’t know why this is so important to him anymore, just that it’s always been something he wants. He’s also an envious sort who is bitter because he’s head of the complaints department and isn’t vice president of the company.

Someone else might see Sanderson as a suck-up who flatters H.P. beyond belief in the hopes of taking over someday. Or perhaps as a bumbling idiot who only keeps his job through nepotism. Or perhaps H.P. is grooming Sanderson to inherit the position of Head Pixie and treats him like a puppet for political reasons.

My works would be very different if any of these had been my angles. The great thing about headcanons is, we can all have our own!

How have A’s interactions with B changed from canon?

My Sanderson has separation anxiety. I based this off canon, because he always follows H.P. around despite having the lowly job of working in the complaints department. However, his separation anxiety isn’t confirmed by canon.

Someone could say he was only working in complaints in “Pixies Inc.” because the company was transitioning now that they’d bought out Fairy World, and that in reality he is (or was later promoted to be) the vice president, and I would support this interpretation even though it differs from my own.

Do I know how they speak?

I wanna write some “Bunsen Is a Beast” one-shots, but it’ll take some time for me to get a solid feel for these characters. To stay in character, you have to understand their background, vocabulary, facial expressions, body language, movement, eye contact, tics, what they do when they’re flustered or startled, how they laugh…

I fell in LOVE with BIaB’s use of hand gestures and body language, because FOP and DP always came off a little lacking in that area to me. Like. If there is any body part I find attractive, it’s hands and the way they move, just- Hhhhhh asdfjhslfsdfjs bury me in this JUST LOOK-

Keeping characters in character is the make-or-break point of enjoying fanfiction for me. I’ve read long ones that use (mostly) proper grammar, but disliked them because characters were OOC. Likewise, I’ve read pieces with less-than-stellar conventions, and loved them for the believable character portrayals. Sometimes I get lucky and manage to find something that scores high marks in both areas.

Some people don’t mind a little OOC-ness! But I don’t like it (Might be an author thing, being a writer of original works myself). I like fanfics that contain references to CANON DETAILS. Research. Thoughtfulness. Love and care. Expanding on what the creator brought to life, not twisting it so much that it seems like you wrote your OCs and are calling it fanfiction just so people read it.

I mean, I like the show because I like what canon gave me, right? I drool over characters like H.P., Youngblood, and Mikey because I sit there with my chin in my hands and think, “You are such a great character. I wish you could be my character. You are a dang fine character.” It just kinda bothers me when people stray too far from that (I totally support portrayals that differ from my own, but I do favor the guidelines of “everything added, nothing taken away”).

Speaking of characters, characters might change as you write more! Freaking Gavin certainly comes to mind.

My pixie character Longwood was going to be my serious fellow. He was written that way in every scene (of which there weren’t a lot for him yet). But then I wrote the “Solo” prompt (the proctoring of Rosencrantz’s latest placement test) before finishing Baby, You’re a Rich Man.

The very first scene to mention how much of a sucker he is for kisses was the “You have a lipstick stain beside your ear” line, and how Longwood’s hand flashes to the exact spot on his cheek. I was going to leave it at that. But then it slipped into Rich Man, and I couldn’t resist. It took off.

Not only did this end up influencing Origin, but it majorly affected Frayed Knots, Rich Man, and the 130 Prompts project. Bit of a flanderization, but he never lost his other traits (kleptomania, phobia of blood) and it’s unlocked so many wonderful opportunities and plot points.

The entire concept of gynes stemmed from around this, for example, as well as some conflict with Sanderson and H.P. (Longwood wanting to marry despite H.P. telling him not to, along with Longwood’s habit of trading company secrets in exchange for kisses). I can’t see him any other way.

Then Wilcox was going to be my serious character. He ended up with a physical addiction to shapeshifting, loves to be a rabbit, and now wants to marry a rabbit. Well.

Characters can change from your original plans for them. Let them go. It’s their story before it’s yours. The piece will almost certainly be better for it.

TIP: Don’t leave yourself sitting in front of a blank screen. Put something down. I usually keep a collection of town names on hand if nothing else, because I work MUCH better when there are words already there.

These notes have been sitting under the table of contents of Origin of the Pixies since the beginning. If you’re as familiar with my work as I am, you may notice that those four town names have never come up yet. I grew fond of them and wanted to save them for either a really good town, or for original projects.

Here are some other notes up there. The first one is a list of people who are immune to magic, as mentioned in “Crock Blocked” (though it’s supposed to be “new wave”, not “new way”). The second is a deleted line from “Rain Dance” that I really like, but haven’t been able to use yet.

Here are some notes from the beginning of Knots:

Use ‘in which’ subtitles

Maternity colonies

Group of huddling baby bats = creche

“It’s a bit dear” = It’s expensive

“I’ve got the right hump” = I’m irritated

“Plump for something more like…” = Use something more like…

“I’m easy” = I’m laid back; I don’t mind

“All right, darling?” = How do you do?

Chips = Crisps

French fries = Chips

Lift = Elevator

Using “You know what I mean?”

Knackered = Exhausted

Gutted = Broken up about

Gobsmacked = Completely shocked

“I cocked up” = I badly messed up

Blinding = Incredible

Cheers = Thanks

Ace = Expert at

A damp squib = A failure

Chunder = Throwing up; for drunken nights

“Oh, mate, that’s brilliant!”

Fortnight = Two weeks

“She gave me a real bollocking” = She scolded me

“Nice one, really” = Sort of sarcastic; “Great job” or “Nice going”

Dodgy = Not very good (Items / thoughts / actions / people)

Scrummy = Tastes very good

Kerfuffle = Skirmish

“That’s a load of tosh” or “Don’t talk tosh”

“He tried to skive off work” = Sluff

Yup! Stereotypical British slang I’ll probably play around with! I don’t plan to use all of it, and I don’t want to use them too much, but I jotted them down.

I also have a list of symptoms for the iris virus STD, but I don’t think that’s appropriate to share here. Here are some notes from my “Danny Phantom” ‘fic about Youngblood, No Anesthetic:

I used to have his sisters up there, before I moved them to an Excel file:

Excel and such can be a great tool for writers to keep their character notes. Stay organized. Once you get your notes written down, you can stop thinking about them so much (I’ll mention the brain’s response to saying “I can move on now that this is noted down” later in this post) and free up space in your head to think through stuff that hasn’t been finished (aka, the story).

The point of me showing all these is, this is something I always do. You just have to start somewhere. Don’t sit at a blank screen and procrastinate. You’ll get analysis paralysis. The first draft is supposed to be a DRAFT. It can change later. If your first draft is perfect, you have bigger problems to worry about, because you probably have magic powers and a world to save. Write more than you need to in this stage- figure out what to cut later.

Need ideas for what to jot down? Figure out more worldbuilding basics:

Where are people getting their food? Water? Shelter?

Social interaction?

Money?

Materials to do the job to get the money?

Books, toys, writing materials, entertainment?

Eating utensils?

Rights?

Addictions?

Love?

Pets?

What about your protagonist? Main personality traits? Quotes?

Family, alive and deceased? Family history? Heirlooms?

Neighbors?

Nervous habits? Embarrassing habits?

Things they’d lie about?

Things they’d never want anyone to know about them?

Deep dark fears?

Things they would share on their Tumblr blog?

I would easily be able to answer all of these for my FOP work, and several of them for my fantasy novel (currently nicknamed “Stars and Finches”) too.

Now, how can you hint at these things in your story? What happens if you take one of those away, or threaten to? Answering the question of “How would THIS character react?” is thrilling for me, and something that drives me from worldbuilding mode into writing mode.

We all know that it’s common for characters to not be mentioned as needing to go to the bathroom. But remember, your characters are mortal too (or, they’re not!) If they have needs, keep that in mind.

In the first draft of Rich Man (not the outline, but the actual draft), there was no mention of Sanderson being thirsty in the early chapters. I added it later because I realized how long he had gone without drinking in hot and dusty Kansas, so then we end up with these scenes:

Chap 1:

I pulled myself together, licking at my dry lips.

Oil dripped in silence, and I remembered how dry my mouth was, full of dust and maybe a bit of blood.

Chap 2:

Water. Water. Water! I hadn’t wanted to get my hopes up just in case I was wrong, but as I approached the small army of metal animals encircling the watering hole on Hole 8, I felt hope swell within me. I knelt between a hulking elephant and a slender zebra near the little wooden bridge. Hugging Flappy to me with one arm, bracing myself with the other, I drank until all the dirt and corn dust had washed from my mouth. It tasted like whipped cream. When I next licked my lips, actual wetness spread itself over the cracks.

Characters needing to meet their needs can be a great plot device if you’re groping for ideas! In fact, I said one time that my tip for overcoming writer’s block is as follows:

Your character is either hungry, thirsty, exhausted, second-guessing themselves, learning a new skill, overcoming a naturally-formed or man-made obstacle, or that really great plot point you’re excited for is coming up next and it’s time to dialogue your way in that direction. Rinse and repeat.

(On the subject of writer’s block, I sometimes record myself reading the dialogue I’ve already written. Bonus points if you can get the voices right, though I sometimes find it difficult to switch between multiple ones. If you can get really into it and carry on a long conversation with yourself, perhaps you can transcribe some of what you say to your writing.)

.:: THE FIRST OUTLINE ::.

Confession time: I’m not awesome at plots myself (That’s why I tend to write long, drawn-out pieces, because the plot then becomes “development and discovery”). But Rich Man’s road trip idea came with a built-in plot. It was supposed to be pretty quick and done.

Like. A sixteen-page long one-shot. Not an 85,000-word novel. So, what I did was, I just started writing and let the story unfold as I went. This is what I knew was going to happen:

H.P. and Sanderson find Flappy in the cornfield

Sanderson gets shot in the wing so he can’t fly for the rest of the story; the stakes have been upped because his ability to escape is limited.

Sanderson and H.P. get separated in the field and Sanderson panics because of his separation anxiety. He tips over the edge and H.P. scolds him for this when they meet up again.

Everyone goes to the minigolf course. H.P. puts Sandy in charge while he plays golf by himself. Sandy is torn between staying at the course or leaving for food, because he and Flappy are hungry. He also ends up losing Flappy, but he’s found again later.

In the morning, everyone leaves and they get back in the car and start searching for food. Flappy needs baby supplies.

H.P. and Sanderson disguise themselves with a trench coat or something from the back of their truck and get supplies from a gas station. While outside the station, they get backed into a corner. Sanderson ends up running inside the station with Flappy while H.P. got caught and dragged off.

Sanderson tries to balance Flappy’s needs with figuring out where H.P. is and how to rescue him. He feels alone and miserable, but eventually he manages to reunite with H.P. somehow.

H.P. and Sanderson make it to the base of the Pixie World Bridge just as it starts to rain, and manage to get Flappy above the clouds, and arrive in Pixie World to dry off.

In the conference room, H.P. explains the loose outline for his plans, and Sanderson is put in charge of watching Flappy for the night.

Now, anyone who’s read Rich Man will realize instantly that something is very wrong. This doesn’t look much like the finished project. Where are Eunice and Quincy? Where’s the candy and the fence? Where’s Anti-Naelita? What happened to the soccer field? Jorgen? The sugar bar? The will o’ the wisps?

Simple: my outline was loose enough to give me wiggle room. Some writers prefer a strict outline, but I’m not one of them. You might not be either.

As you can see, I had a decent outline here. I had a good starting point, even if it was rough and many details were fuzzy. I got to this point by first marking general notes, and then asking questions and adding more notes:

I need to get from the cornfield to Pixie World.

What is the cornfield like? What time of day is it? What’s around? Who’s around?

What happened to the guy they hit with their truck when they spun into the corn? And how much did the collision / spin / impact jostle them?

How are they going to take care of Flappy?

They don’t have magic.

A baby will need to be fed and changed

There’s no way they have baby supplies in their truck

Where and how will they get supplies? How will they get the supplies to get the supplies? Who will they meet when they get it? What are the dangers?

I want H.P. and Sanderson to get separated.

How can we up the stakes?

I can take Sandy’s ability to fly, and discuss the ways magical creatures can die, and put Sandy in or near those situations so we can see him fret

Even if the audience knows that the main character survives (especially when writing backstories), the writer should strive to keep them on their toes with physical and emotional dangers

I love the idea of Sanderson having separation anxiety, so I’d like some of the focus on the story to be on that

I should foreshadow this by separating them in the cornfield for a short period of time.

What happens to Flappy when they separate?

How does H.P. take care of Flappy vs. how Sanderson takes care of him? Who is more capable: H.P. who has much more experience but is strict, or Sanderson who is more compassionate but makes many mistakes?

How do they get back together?

An injured wasp releases pheromones. I based pixies off wasps. I could do something with this.

I like the idea of Sanderson putting himself in harm’s way to trigger his pheromones, because it drives home how desperate and lost he is.

What’s my end goal? Why am I writing this?

I want to share my portrayal of these characters that I like, and maybe others will like these portrayals and characters too.

I’m interested in exploring the worldbuilding and magic system, and trying to bring all the scattered bits of canon that seem to conflict into a single consistent magic system with strengths and flaws.

There’s not a real moral here, or at least not a good one. It’s just sort of slice-of-life, and shows how much H.P. means to Sanderson compared to what Sanderson means to H.P., and just sketch an idea as to what their overarching relationship is.

I wanted to point out the Kansas/California disconnect and play around with a magic-free road trip.

This was enough for me to get started. Just keep asking and answering questions! At this point, I had no other ‘fics to refer to, so I threw in worldbuilding as I went along (Hint: Reference past experiences that helped one grow or made someone nervous. Compare things to something that belongs specifically in this world when describing colors, expressions, body language, or facial features. What reminds a character of their past? How can you make those things related to your ideas or to canon worldbuilding?).

I made things up as I went along, and tried to slip in worldbuilding:

What’s so special about this minigolf course?

Apparently Sanderson was born here

What was H.P.’s life like back then?

What is the course decorated like? Why?

I really wanted the tree Sandy climbs to be a maple. But how did a maple end up in Kansas? Hmm.

As adorable as being born at the golf course would be, how does that work with the time differences?

How the Big Wand works

How magical creatures breathe

Lines can get tangled

What wand providers do

Undoing magic (reversal fluid and signature codes)

Limitations on magic

Why wands are important

How wands work

In a magical sense

In a physical sense

Legal jazz and paperwork junk

Magic lines

Magic doesn’t work well in poor weather conditions

Tingle-fritziness

Snapping lines

How do babies get lines?

Tying lines

Three is preferred; too many or two few can compromise one’s health.

Magic dust

Non-magic users see what they expect to see if there is magical residue around (basically sweat; aka fairy dust)

Healing

Ability to fly

The energy field

Field-sight

Species variations

Magical politics

Mind wiping

Fantastic racism

Rules about interfering with neutral / evil parties on Earth

Court cases

Anti-Pixie society

Sanderson is reserved, likes singing, and is loyal to H.P., but Anti-Sanderson is boisterous, likes dancing, and usurped H.P.’s counterpart

What even was the previous 37-year plan anyway?

And how important? What did the Fairies think of it? Anti-Fairies?

Sanderson hates it when girls flirt with him when he’s just trying to fix the copy machine; it’s distracting and confusing

Inspiration back-up is maybe a thing? This is a really iffy subject

How did the Pixies become involved with Gary and Betty? Why THEM?

Sanderson is taking care of them because he grew fond of their parents after meeting them in this ‘fic. When the plan called for more human children to raise, Sanderson knew who to look into.

Sanderson is not company vice president, and is bitter rivals with the pixie who is

Who gives pixies milk? Foster mothers

Who was Sanderson’s milkmother? How did H.P. meet her? Does Sanderson remember her? Why isn’t she still around? Did she have kids? Are they his siblings? Why aren’t they around?

… Basically, if you have the choice between slipping in a world-building detail or falling back on an old cliche, the former is probably the better way to go. Of course, I myself hit a snag when I couldn’t figure out what Sanderson would know about H.P.’s past, so I started to develop Origin of the Pixies seriously.

Write the stuff you’ve already come up with. Try to see things from the perspective of someone who can’t see the inner workings of your head:

Is your logic sound?

Do you contradict yourself?

Do you think you’ve avoided plot holes?

Are your explanations confusing?

What questions might people ask? How would you answer them?

What if this story was written with different characters?

How would they try solving their problems? What would they know? Why DON’T the characters you chose to use react that way?

My advice is, don’t be stubborn with your outline. Be flexible. I mean, look at this note I added to Rich Man 8 when I originally posted it on deviantArt:

Idona’s presence, I think, might be worth a little explanation. First things first, I would like to throw out that I did not invent an OC to ship Sanderson with because I find romance necessary. I’m really not much of a shipper in general. This was always supposed to be a story about Sanderson, his boss, and a baby clown. So if you’re anything like me, you can breathe again.

[…] Idona was not supposed to be in this story. She isn’t in my original outline whatsoever. Even when I started thinking I might have Sanderson run across a will o’ the wisp, I was going to use one of the random ones. Literally anybody but Idona, because knowing her the way I’ve learned to [from writing Origin of the Pixies], there is no way she wouldn’t bring up romance, and I didn’t want that to even be a question in this story.Problem being that if we’re perfectly honest, based on Origin of the Pixies canon, most wisps would have either A) confused him with Longwood and attacked out of frustration (and I was really done with Sanderson getting physically beat on), or the more likely B) smothered him in kisses and such right then and there, O'Weskar v. Pixies Inc. notwithstanding, seeing as they know they have the time to have their way with him before he dies. And no way was I going that far. Either I had to change Origin of the Pixies, I had to invent pointless new wisp characters and introduce plot holes, or I had to adjust a scene in Baby, You’re a Rich Man that I wasn’t happy with.Using Idona surprisingly led me to the least possible romance and the best balance of sanity, if that makes any sense. Because she’s the only one who would ever see him as a person and respect his refusal, and not just take advantage of him. And I got to show Sanderson doubling back in desperate search of the only wisp he actually dislikes rather than has more neutral feelings towards. That was nice. Not that… it means much to you all, not having read Origin of the Pixies yet. So, yes, I’m entirely aware that this scene probably still seems out of place with the rest of the story, but I assure you, every word Idona says, her fascination with Sanderson in particular, and the fact that wisp damsels come out in the rain nowadays makes complete sense. And, for those of you who actually were itching for romance, take this and sit tight. Next time we’ll talk with Longwood and someone’s gonna get busted.So if Idona weren’t here at all then their conversation would have been replaced with more of Sanderson’s rambling which, while it was my first intention, did not go as well as I hoped. It really went on for about ten pages and I kind of. Pushed him. Over the brink of reality and had to start over. There was a lot of grass-eating involved. I had to stop when I ran him into the ground because I had little choice but to make Jardine stumble across him while he got his dirt, and that rang like a cop-out. It was all much too OOC even for my take on Sanderson, I realized when I sat back and took a second look. So now you get Idona and I’m 100% certain the story is better for it. It did fix a major plothole in a later scene, after all.

This is just what, after twelve years of trial and error, seems to work very well for me. Some people might be driven crazy by an outline that said, “I don’t know how they meet up again, but I’ll figure that out when I get there”.

Personally, I let the characters guide me. If you’ve read Rich Man, you know that Sanderson is actually the one who gets captured, and that he ends up bonding a bit with Thomas over music. I came up with that love of music idea when I reached that scene.

That’s what works! Alternatively, if I were more of a planner, I could have drawn up a character sheet for Thomas in advance, and I might have written, say… “Flattery is the way to his heart”, and gone into the scene with that character detail in mind, and Sanderson could have flattered his way out.

In the latest chapter of Origin, I had the scene where Sanderson hugs the yoo-doo doll and the scene where H.P. stabs the arrow into it written out months ago, but I didn’t figure out where or how they got the dolls (or who was guarding them) until I actually made it to that section of the chapter.

Just remember: Better to have a rough draft than nothing at all! If you feel paralyzed, start asking questions and trying to decide how you can answer them in your piece without infodumping too much! Unless you infodump the way I did when Sanderson went on his rant(s) in Chapter 1, I guess?

.:: FIRST WORDS ::.

Okay, let’s back it up. We’re pretty far into this post now, and yet the first thing I ever do when actually writing a story is, throw down all the scene snippets I’ve been keeping in my head before creating the document.

Ex: In Frayed Knots, here’s one scene I scribbled downvery early-

The glimmering of her translucent wings cast rainbows across the squares of light leaking over the otherwise dark floor. My core twisted in a knot. I covered my mouth and nose with my fingers, choking on literal butterflies because the sight was so sickeningly pretty and good and pure that it made my head spin and the blood thump in my neck. It went against every Anti-Fairy instinct, every Anti-Fairy cultural norm, every Anti-Fairy schooling lesson, every Anti-Fairy wands and wings talk-

And I liked it.

Wanda placed her hand to my forehead. “Are you all right? Your face is flushed purple, but your forehead doesn’t seem overly cold.”

- and I moved from stuff like that onto the next chunk, which was writing the scenes that appear in both Knots and Origin from the viewpoints of Anti-Cosmo and H.P., respectively, and making them each distinct. For example-

Origin-

Against his best efforts, Anti-Cosmo pulled a more amusing face than he would ever admit to and handed me back my mug. “Blimey! I really don’t know how you can drink this putrid stuff all day, old sport.”

I slid his tea cup and saucer across my desk with the end of my pen. “And I will never see the appeal of this sickly sweet water, either. I can hardly function without my morning coffee dose.”

“All the more reason we should align forces, I think. The coffee is yours, but all the tea in the universe shall be mine. Ahahaha!”

“And the sugar?”

My door exploded open as Anti-Cosmo was working through his, “I say we split the difference”. He yelped and dropped the cup he had just picked up, and it spilled steaming tea all over his lap. Brown dots splattered across the papers on the desk between us.

“Sanderson,” I said, trying not to focus on the bead of sweat creeping down my forehead. “This is definitely not a good time to make a fool of yourself.”

He surveyed the situation fast and pinged up a handful of small towels for Anti-Cosmo. To me, “Longwood and Smitty are trying to kill each other down in the food court.”

“Oh, blitz.” I shoved my chair backwards and pushed past the anti-fairy. At the door, I turned back to him. “I would suggest you remain here, Anti-Cosmo. For your own safety.”

“My own safety?” he repeated, utterly perplexed. He had his handkerchief balled in his blue hand, even though tea was still splattered across his prim shirt and dark pants. His green eyes narrowed with glinting suspicion. “I’m not certain this isn’t a clever attempt at a trap, H.P.”

Knots-

I fiddled with my wand beneath the edge of his desk. I’d seen what that stuff did to him the morning after we’d spent that night together during the war. “Hot drinks don’t appeal so much to anti-entities.”

“Just taste it, tea-drinker,” he coaxed.

So I did. It stung the cuts along the roof of my mouth, just as I’d expected to, but I did not spit my swallow out, and I’m very proud of that. “Blimey,” I said mildly as I lowered it. Struggling to maintain an even expression, I passed back his mug. “I really don’t know how you can drink this putrid stuff all day, old sport.”

“And I will never see the appeal of this sickly sweet water, either,” he said as he returned my teacup. “I can hardly function without my morning coffee dose.”

I smiled and lifted that softly-steaming cup of sweetness to my nose. “All the more reason we should align forces, I think. The coffee is yours, but all the tea in the universe shall be mine!” My proposal ended in a small cackle.

He tilted his head. “And the sugar?”

“I say we split the difference.”

The door burst before I finished. Tea spilled down my shirt and over my legs. I flinched and probably let slip a squeal as I grabbed at the insides of my coat. The Head Pixie’s face bled into mortified white.

“Sanderson, this is definitely not a good time to make a fool of yourself.”

I rotated my chair partway around, squeezing the wet front of my shirt in my fist. The flustered pixie kept one hand pressed to his hair, but he spared me a fleeting glance. As he pinged up an unsteady stack of gray towels above my head, he blurted, “Longwood and Smitty are trying to kill each other down in the food court.”

Spitting unprofessional curses, the Head Pixie launched himself over his desk, caught his foot on the edge, tripped, and slammed hard into the ground beside my feet. He scrambled up again and flew through his door. Then he poked his head back in. “I would suggest you remain here, Anti-Cosmo. For your own safety.”

I cocked my ears forward. “My own safety? I’m not certain this isn’t a clever attempt at a trap, H.P.”

Of course, I guess you don’t really have that luxury, huh? Having another story to refer to? So sharing these blocks was kind of pointless.

Some scenes may get cut. Even ones that you thought you liked. If you’re a writer, I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase “Kill your darlings” before.

That’s especially the case when trying to publish, as you’re bound to a certain length. Fanfiction is nice because you can be as long as you want. But still, I would advise you, if something’s not working? It’s hurting. Drop it. Keep only scenes that contribute.

Could I have written several more chapters in Origin about H.P.’s life in Kalysta’s burrow? Heck yes. Could I have written about the years he spent as a servant / butler to Cattahan? Definitely. But they disrupted the flow, and really, the audience didn’t need them. Wield the timeskip wisely.

.:: DIVIDE AND CONQUER ::.

Okay, so you know I scribble down what I can think of at the time, right? What if I don’t know a detail? Should I stop and work it out? Spend an hour or two researching right then and there?

Nah. I throw down an underscore and keep moving. Later, I can use the search feature to show me all the underscores and fill them in during the second draft, when I have more time for fact-checking like that.

This is my favorite example of the underscores, from the “Think Positive” prompt, because every time I find this scene again it just makes me snort:

“-pixies over the millennia. Surely you can loan me some advice to raising mine? I don’t know the first thing about raising a child. I’ve never held a pup in my life.”

The Head Pixie scratched his chin. “Aren’t you Mr. Genie Conservation Program?”

“_.”

“Right. _.”

Anti-Cosmo shoved back his seat and lifted his wings. “_?”

“_,” he said as he took another sip of soda.

“_.”

“Wasn’t that the very first thing I said?”

“But do you even know how Anti-Fairy rrreproduction works?”

The most interesting conversation.

Anyway, I knew that I wanted these two to bounce off one another. I knew A.C. was acting high-strung, and H.P. was more relaxed. I wrote everything for this prompt that I could think of at the time one night. It’s been sitting around waiting for me to finish it, which I haven’t yet because there were other prompts I wanted to get to first.

I do the same thing with Origin. Heck, I even do the same thing when writing school assignments-

I even did it when writing this post! What I know, I pen down while I’m in the flow. Once you get the outlines of the puzzle down, you can go back and fill in the gaps!

Just for fun, because I work on other projects besides fanfics, here’s me doing the same thing in “Stars and Finches”:

“We’ll have to turn back. The waves are picking up.”

From the upper deck, I called, “Can’t you use magic to make it fly?”

She squinted at me. Then she squinted at _. The _ came out of her mouth. “Does this elfblood even know how _ships work?”

“I’m Allard Krindan.”

“And I’m annoyed.” She made the six-fingered Sikhorian hand gesture for “You’re not worth my time” and marched off. I folded back my ears and stared after her. Were all the Sikhorians going to treat me with such blatant disrespect?

“Listen, kid.” _ put his arm around me. “Ever wonder why no one steers the _ships across the mountains even though _they’re capable of traveling over land?”

“That never came up in my ambassador-in-training lessons, no.”

“Ambassador, huh?” His eye roamed to me as he popped the _ in his mouth. “Well, _. That’s why it’s so important to have the canal.”

This is a very rough draft I haven’t looked at for a bit because fanfics have been sapping up my attention. But my parents and I agreed that for my “summer job”, they’ll let me write, as long as I’m writing like it’s my job. So, I’ll become more scarce around that time as I try to finish my original novel

I think I’ll scrap the idea of the ships hovering over land. That seems too easy. They’ll stick to the water, I guess. Hmm…

.:: TABLE OF CONTENTS ::.

Unless I’m writing a one-shot or something else that’s relatively short, I always keep a table of contents at the beginning of a piece (I didn’t create one for No Anesthetic, but I left my entire first draft outline up there, even though it’s already drastically different from the way the final piece has been going). As I complete each chapter, I scratch it off with the strikeout tool.

As you can see, I’ve now finished with Acts 1 and 2. Origin got so big that it was taking the Google Docs app on my phone a painfully long time to load the story, so the second list is in my second document, and the third in the third. The asterisks symbolize the four different Acts-

Act 1: The transition from H.P. living on his own to officially accepting Sanderson

Act 2: H.P. struggling with questions, lifestyle choices, and little kids; being abducted by the cherubs and studied

Act 3: The development of Pixie World, the war over godchildren, the study of the Wolbachia bacteria, and the aftermath of the war

Act 4: Tying up loose ends; H.P. dealing with his pixies growing up and aging himself

This table of contents is pretty important to me, since I tend to write scenes as I think of them and jump up and down the story. This list helps me keep my facts straight (although tbh I can keep 99.99% of the order, mood, and timeframe of scenes straight in my head because that’s just the way I am. I can accurately keep track of hundreds of characters without double-checking their info constantly. Can I recognize somebody new in my life that I was introduced to the day before? No).

I have the kind of personality that enjoys completing things for the sake of completing them, so scratching them off is very reinforcing to me. Look how much I’ve done! Origin of the Pixies is easily the longest FOP fanfic on the Internet, and only halfway done! I did this! Isn’t that awesome? I wanna finish this puppy! I’ve poured so much of my love and time into it!

Here’s a snippet of the table from my Total Drama fanfic, The Lyin’ Queen:

The chapters are all named after Simple Plan songs as a reference to Staci listing her favorite band as Simple Flan. In this table, you can see I have small notes next to each chapter. That can be helpful too! Origin actually had notes like this back before I memorized what happens in which chapter.

Now, remember that I noted down everything I could think of. To create the table of contents, I calculated in my head where in the story I wanted things to fall (hence the notes in parentheses), and where I envisioned chapter breaks. In Knots, for example, my chapters are divided like this:

I picked this part of Knots rather than Origin because you can see that “Grand Day Out” has nothing in it yet (whereas all my Origin chapters have more content). However, I know that it exists. I went ahead and wrote it there so I wouldn’t forget; when I’m in the mood to write the ceremonial send-off scene or anything else about the upper planes of the Deep Kingdom, then I’ll scroll down to this section of the document and add it in. “Pretty Boys”, though, already has quite a few scenes written already!

Fun Fact: The Faelumen were originally designed to exist in Knots alone, and weren’t mentioned at all in Origin. It was supposed to be a big, fun surprise reveal… but after I wrote some scenes with Dame Head, I loved her too much. Plus, I thought it was something I should talk about with the whole “pixies reproduce asexually thing”, and answer the questions about why she wasn’t in Origin when Anti-Fergus was. Then the religion thing happened… Yep!

If you’ve been keeping up with this blog and Origin, you know that I unexpectedly split “Fruitful Fruition” in half to create “Snowflake”, even though the latter wasn’t in my outline. That’s okay! This is why I like to write as I go along rather than planning out too many details. It’s easy to be flexible!

TIP: Generally speaking, I write rough draft scenes as I think them up. They stay that way as rough drafts; I don’t worry about them too much. They’re full of underscores, and even in some cases, blatant mistakes.

Originally, Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda had their first kiss upside down in a tree. The draft scene is written that way. Now it’s in a petting zoo, because really, why would you not?

Point being, there are still several references later in the story about them being in a tree that I haven’t yet corrected. I’ll do that when I actually write the chapter from start to finish and decide what to cut.

When I really sit down to write the story, though, I go in order. From the start of the chapter, with maybe a few pops forward when something comes to mind, but mostly, I go in order.

Otherwise, you might have a great scene, but it doesn’t fit the flow or mood of the story, or - worse - something came up and now the scene doesn’t make sense at all, after you put in so much effort.

If I’m in the mood to write a scene, I make time to pen the draft down as soon as possible. I do NOT say, “I’ll just hang onto that thought and write it all when I get there”. Use it or lose it!

At this time, Knots has all the scenes loosely written that I first thought of (bringing the document to approximately 200 pages). These are main scenes: conflicts with Mom, coming-of-age ceremony, Wish Fixers therapy, lots of Anti-Wanda stuff, basically all the Anti-Sanderson stuff, scenes from the war…

The next goal is finishing my outline and how I want to pace things / jump around, then figuring out the drafts for main scenes I haven’t finished yet (the opening scene, A.C.’s wedding, Anti-Bryndin, more war stuff, the bake-off, etc.) Once those main roughs are done, I’ll start writing the final version of Chapter 1, and eventually post it! Then I’ll begin work on the final version of Chapter 2, with occasional pauses to add more draft scenes later in the story if I think one up.

.:: MOTIVATION ::.

Aside from scratching off chapters being reinforcing, talking about my work on this blog helps a lot too. Although no chapters have been posted, I can’t very well back out of Frayed Knots; you know too much and I won’t make a liar out of myself now. It might take me weeks or months, but I’ll get to it!

NOTE: Revealing TOO MUCH can be severely detrimental! You may trigger your brain’s response that, “Oh, I talked about this thing? I shared it, my task is complete, I can be satisfied and stop now”. You may notice I try to only share stuff from Knots that I’ve already written, and keep my lip buttoned on stuff that’s still up in the air.

For some people, something as simple as crossing a chapter off their list may not be satisfying enough. You could always reward yourself with a bit of ice cream or candy or another treat, say, if you finish a chapter, or if you wrote a certain amount of words each day. I usually reward myself with more writing.

The NaNoWriMo community has been very supportive to me in the three years I’ve participated in National Novel Writing Month (the goal being to write 50,000 words between November 1st and November 30th).

On that site, when you make an account and sign up for the event each November, you get a purple bar underneath your username. It announces how many words you’ve written so far. If you write just 1,667 words a day, you’ll reach 50,000 by the 30th this post is almost six times that oh my gosh.

Again, being able to update my wordcount and see how well I was keeping on track was very rewarding to me, and I’ve met the 50k count for 3/3 NaNovels (Courtesy, Silverfish, and Protagonist For Hire, which amazingly somehow got its 50,000 but is very poorly written and not close to done)!

You can also win promotional codes and stuff. I got five free self-published copies of my 2012 novel Courtesy of Number 124 when I finished and formatted them, among other benefits! It depends on the year, I think!

Again, I like completing things. I like HAVING things. After many hours of searching the web, I was disappointed in the lack of Pixie ‘fics. Although there were some, it wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t want Pixies putting another 37-year-plan into action, or getting revenge on Timmy. I wanted serious backstory.

As previously mentioned, by establishing that H.P. had written Origin, I was at a risk for writing Sanderson as dumb for not knowing something H.P. had mentioned in his book. Sanderson has read and studied Origin extensively, so I had to make sure he didn’t “conveniently” forget a fact he should know, and when writing Origin, I have to make sure not to contradict Sanderson, or give the answers to anything he stated in Rich Man that he doesn’t know

Fact: In the Origin Act 2 finale, I used “breathed” as a said tag for the first time in this story. One of the underlying things in Rich Man was, Sanderson didn’t fully grasp the concepts of how humans breathe. The word “breathe” doesn’t come up much in Rich Man, until the closing lines, like “He never stopped breathing”. I have been IN PAIN not using “breathed”, so I finally bit the bullet because forget this.

And of course, as a result, that means H.P. shouldn’t have taught him anything about humans breathing. This I… slightly retconned, because breathing turned out to be more important for Origin than I had previously expected.

Though, in Rich Man, Sanderson never explicitly says he doesn’t know what breathing is (Obviously he has to know, considering he finally said the word). It’s just, I was subtly trying to hint in Rich Man that he truly recognized the nature of his own self - a being who could technically be called half mortal, half immortal - at the same time he began to understand Flappy’s human nature.

ANYWAY, figure out how you’re motivated and then play to your own wants and needs! Passion and a love of the work is arguably the best way to be, because it’s simple. But if praise is reinforcing to you? Share what you’ve done with me, and I’ll give you many pats on the back!

That… would have been the only three sentences required to answer this Ask, but I wrote this giant post instead. YOU KNOW WHO I AM, DENISE!

.:: OTHER WRITING ADVICE B/C IDK WHY NOT? ::.

You’re writing for two audiences

The first is of course your readers. That’s the easy answer. But, you ought to love what you’re doing. The second audience you write for is yourself. What have you always wanted to write, but haven’t gotten around to?

For me, I love extravagant coming of age ceremonies! I’ll take any excuse to dress characters up in something they wouldn’t normally wear, force them to participate in things they otherwise wouldn’t, or shove them in a situation where they’re horribly embarrassed but can’t escape.

And, I love inventing fantasy religions! Religious beliefs can be huge motivators for characters that can explain being “out of character”. Take advantage of this!

For a third example, Origin of the Pixies gave me the chance to write about marsupial pouches and the embarrassment of one’s offspring crawling into said pouch while in public. That’s been a joy from start to finish.

Write the scenes you “can’t afford” to write

Well, uh… so, here’s a little secret I was never planning to share… I’ve written make-out scenes and yes, even some more intimate scenes while working on Origin and Knots. They’ll just never appear, and you’ll never get to read them. It’s not something I EVER would have done just a year ago, and yet here I am.

I am a sex-repulsed aromantic asexual. I have no business nosing my way into this area. And yet I did. And it was very interesting.

I was mostly curious to see how well my skills held up trying to describe scenarios I know little about, and it turns out that mostly, they held up extremely well! I think. It’s kind of refreshing to just let yourself write and know that no one will ever judge you on it.

Obviously, don’t write something that makes you uncomfortable just because I said here that it’s something that helps me in my writing.

Really, I didn’t focus so much on writing intimate scenes per se so much as the situations that led up to them (BOY, let me tell you how many of these “sex” scenes I have with a bunch of flirtation and set-up, and then they just… go blank, because I already had all I needed to know about how the characters would act when being romantic in private). Situations are really interesting. Emotions, dialogue, lack of one or both… Different people act in different ways.

I have H.P.’s kissing scene under the stairs with a random girl, squished between four other couples, from the party in Chapter 4- That one was REALLY fun, and recently I ended up recycling most of that scene as a sort-of flashback early in Origin Act 3 (loosely down as falling in “Cotton Candy Oatmeal”). Very teenager-y and full of hormones, which was the point. Seriously, that scene came out SO DANG WELL, and I’m very proud of my aro/ace un-kissed self. Oh man, I’ve written so many nice behind-the-scenes scenes full of character fleshing that I wish I could share.

I have Ambrosine and Ilisa Maddington (Ambrosine admiring her shampoo and giant white bathtub is adorable to me, for some reason). For crying out loud, I even wrote “‘Stars and Finches’ AU where most everything’s the same in this scene but Gavin and Ethel try to be flirty b/c I need to know how they act for research” Answer: They are super, super clueless and awkward and in this AU they DEVASTATE their relationship this way it’s so hilarious to me because “Let’s shatter these two emotionally” generally isn’t what you’d expect to get out of “AU where this story has romance / making out and jazz in it”.

Idk this is just really fascinating to me? I can still keep them 100% in character even in situations they wouldn’t normally find themselves in? I’ve explored their personalities just to understand them better, not to impress readers? I love it!

SO! The reason I wrote these things is simple: Character fleshing. You’re the author! Characters’ personal lives are completely your business. It might help to know how these people act when the audience isn’t supposed to be watching- and then draw inspiration from that to use in the actual story.

Case in point: One thing that absolutely shocked me was the way cute and sweet China acts behind closed doors. Freaking China. Apparently she’s really nice and casual by day, but she’s super specific at night, and will pitch a fit if things don’t go her way. She guilts the heck out of H.P. It’s her little way of getting control, being a selkie…

Basically, she did a 180-flip in my mind after I wrote the dialogue exchange and narrative reflecting on their relationship, and I loved it. Almost all of the lines from those few paragraphs ended up in Origin.

And given how many relationships H.P. makes and breaks over the 700,000 years this story covers, going behind the scenes this way allows me to compare and contrast his girls. Whereas China is specific and decides when they sleep together, Kalysta is easy-going just as long as he’s there. Very, very interesting and very fun for me!

Of course, don’t do anything you’re uncomfortable doing. But maybe break out of your comfort zone and write scenes that will never make it into the story. Not just kissy-kissy scenes, but other scenes too:

Those shady deals behind the best friend’s back

The moment the villain realizes someone’s out to stop her

Midnight snacks

Doctor and dentist appointments

Birthday celebrations

What happens when they’re out of their favorite breakfast

Being stuck in traffic / going to work

Relatives coming to visit

Grocery shopping

A situation where they are the only one stressed

Trying a new recipe

Cleaning the house

Ordering at a fancy restaurant

Ordering from a drive-thru

First cruise vacation

Service for a friend or stranger

Multitasking (TV, phone conversation, and food?)

Big homework assignments

Interview / performance review

Visiting a museum

Going to the pool / waterpark on a hot day

Visiting a sick friend or relative

Attending a funeral (for someone they either know well, or don’t)

Take your kid to work day

Caught in the act of an embarrassing habit

Accidentally set something on fire

Can’t find an item (either dumb or important)

What happens during timeskips

Before the story begins

After it comes to a close

Stuff that happens in daily life, but the reader doesn’t need to know because it doesn’t add enough to the story. Or, maybe some of these will turn out to be crucial, and you can work them in. Writing about what your character sees in a museum is a great way to worldbuild, and then you can sneak hints of what you learn from writing that prompt into the actual finished work. Hint at a world that keeps getting deeper. Treat yo’self- you might just be surprised.

… I realize that we’re straying from the original topic, but I’m on a roll here. Hmm. I’ll make a separate prompt list for all of these things and post it later.

Google Docs is a good way to go

Google Docs is free to use, the only stipulation being that you need a gmail account, I think. If you have an iPhone or something, download the Google Docs app. It’s free too.

Whatever you write on one will sync to other devices automatically. Take advantage of this and, if you’re not socializing or keeping an eye on your surroundings otherwise, write everywhere. Write when you’re a passenger on the bus, write between class changes, write while you’re eating with the other hand, and if you have enough self-control to still get to sleep on time, you can keep it beside your bed.

I’ve only had Docs crash on me once in two+ years, and since it saves automatically as you work anyway (and saves your past edits), I didn’t lose anything. I used WordPerfect for almost a decade, I’ve often used Microsoft Word for school papers, and I have Scrivener, but Google Docs is my favorite to write with because I can walk up to any computer, log in, and access my 85+ files in an instant. Dropbox syncing used to take HOURS back in the day.

(The one thing I might mention is that if I remember correctly, the Google Docs app is extremely hard to log out of on the iPhone, if there is even an option. It’s been some time since I checked, however, but may be something to keep in mind for those who share phones with people they’d be embarrassed to have reading their work.)

Take your time

Seriously, timing is everything. I could name numerous pieces that would have been vastly different had I submitted them as soon as I thought they were ready. It was seven months after I “finished” “Bells and Whistles” before I was able to post it, and it changed a surprising amount after all those revisions!

It’s okay not to have your worldbuilding fully worked out when you start. In fact, I’d even say it’s better that way! When you worldbuild as you go, you’re truly immersed in the world and the work!

And lastly?

Find the good in everything, and accept the bad along with it. You gotta, bro.

Don’t compare yourself to other writers. You’re all working to entertain and have fun. It’s not a competition- you’re just here to be better than yesterday. Look to other writers to study and admire and learn from, but don’t let their years of hard work make you feel less about your years of hard work.

Hope I helped ya, and thanks for asking for my advice! Keep me posted on how your work goes!

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