#i haven't written in 150 years and i want to write something new so i have to remember how again

[angryschnauzer]

I realised two months have gone by since i last updated you all, i'm not even sure if anyone is interested anymore. I know i haven't been on much, perhaps sporadically coming on and mindlessly reblogging Henry stuff just for a little escape, but its intermittent at best. I had hoped to be back to writing by now, but life is still a huge pile of shit.

I'm run ragged trying to pay the bills. My wedding decorations business is halfway between slow and dead; the cost of living crisis means weddings aren't really happening, and if they are most of the items i do people are making themselves. My side gig in ebay flipping is quiet too but at least its trickling by. I don't mention this much as people get a lot of abuse over 'thrift store flippers' (Charity Shop resellers here in the UK), but right now its what's keeping my family fed. I buy clothing for £1 from the stinky dregs bin in a charity shop, wash it, mend it, resell it for £4. I'm not making millions or even thousands. I'm lucky if i'm bringing in £150 a week which barely covers our weekly food shop. Its draining that when i do eventually mention this to my friends they immediately start moaning at me that i'm the one 'ruining' charity shops and why its pushing the prices up. But when i calmly tell them its that or i don't eat they go quiet. I'm not the one pushing a 2nd hand coat for £25 which was only £20 brand new which most high street charity shops are doing. Do i like doing this? No. Do i have to? Yes. Because i sure as ain't cute enough for onlyfans.

But the majority of my time over the last couple of months has been spent caring for our son. He's 8 and has type 1 diabetes, and since school started back in September one little shit in his class has spent every waking moment bullying him. This little shit has been stabbing my son with pencils, poking him in the kidneys with whatever he has to hand, laughing and sneering at him at every opportunity even when he's just walking past. Having the adrenaline and cortisol in my son's bloodstream affects how his insulin works, and he builds up an insulin resistance because of all the other hormones in his bloodstream. I've had so many meetings with the school, and have had to get the board of governors involved because when your 8 year old kid says quietly to you "It would be better if i wasn't alive as then *Little Shit* wouldn't be able to bully me" your heart breaks into pieces.

He needs my support more than anything, so every single other thing has been put by the wayside. And its tough. He acts out at home, messes around with his dinner because he feels he needs to be able to control something, but that in turn messes up insulin dosing so i'm spending half the night dealing with highs and lows for his blood sugars. I get at most 5 hours sleep a night.

I have no more energy left. I'm not eating, because i just can't stomach it. I'm 43 and hitting menopause, but my doctor doesn't want to know because "You just need to loose some weight" (don't get be started on fat bias from the NHS).

So i'm filling my time with volunteering at school so i can be 'around' for my Little Dude. He knows that if he's having an awful day, he will find me in the office sorting through paperwork for our next fundraiser. Its not what i want to be doing, but its what i need to be doing.

One day i hope to get back to my writing. I miss being creative and i hate that i have so many stories part written/published. As the months tick by i actually end up seeing stories written by others that have the same characters/plotlines. This is no-ones fault that two stories exist on the same synopsis, it would just seem that they and I have taken the same inspiration from media at some point. But it makes me scared that if i now publish a story i started 2 years ago, i'll be accused of stealing an idea. I don't know what to do. So i just leave my WIP folder abandoned.

For everyone that has stayed with me thank you. For those that have moved onto pastures new, i wish you well and hold no malice.

I do love you all

Mama Schnauz

x

[aggressivenesswhilecrying]

I have to write a novel for class, and I have an idea bouncing off my skull for years. And I need to share it.

Excerpt:

When valley died, he expected to see nothing. For that to just be it. he wasnt one to belive in heaven or hell, not really. The after life was something he didn't see possible. But one moment, he felt the blood pouring from them gun wound in his chest, near his lungs he thought. Just another man who got mugged, thought he could fight, and ended up on the wrong side of the gun.

What was so odd was it was dark, and cold. Then he heard the sound of tapping. The blow of wind against his skin, something cold on his back. Then he opened hiss eyes.

THE ACTUALLY UDEA:

Sometimes when someone dies, they become a God of their own right, and the main character, who I haven't chose a name for, got to be the God of stories. And got their own library in between time and space, and they are to spend their unending afterlife, caring after the infinite library that has every person who has ever lived story, and every book to ever be written. This space between time and space means one day you will get elvises story, and the next you will get a hermit in 200bc's story. And it never ends, you always are getting new books. But. They are to spend the rest of eternity, alone. After so so so long of being alone. For some reason, valley, an autistic trans man, with so many years of masking, and being pract8cally tortured by society like anyone else who fits those two things, shows up in this library. Where he isn't supposed to be. And the entire thing, is, valley is adjusting to being NG dead, the other guy is trying to learn how to be human again, while they're both stuck in this limbo, with no explanation as of why, and slowly, they fall in love due to their isolation,while learning the secrets to the very world from the stories of people who knew far too much.

Did I mention these domains of sorts make you look like your true self? How you see yourself, when there is no rules to reality, your looks tend to shift into something that fits you, weather you realize or not. And every so often, if you wander deep enough in, you'll find things from what used to be your life, you'll find clocks, and mirrors, and you'll find photos from places and moments unexplainable.

NOW, I wanted to share this, to see how tumblr will react to this thought, it has to be 150 pages long before January 15th, and it can't be over by then, and I'm kinda wondering, if yall like this idea, if I should start posting about progress, and these little oc guys, and world building, and all that, cuz I'm nuts

Also I'm looking for pointers from people who actually write longer things!! The longest thing I wrote was 15k words over 8 months, so, I'm really just looking for advice, helpful criticism, and to see if this is some yall will want to hear about!!

#aggressivetalks #aggressivewrites #god damn #im so unwell #writing #my ocs #please i beg you

[hrwinter]

Kara dancing at or with Lena

Reporters often ask what it's like to know Supergirl, to be friends with her, what kind of intimate knowledge Lena Luthor is privy to being in the inner circle of the Super Friends. She demurs, she omits, she avoids because she can fathom what they're angling for; something juicy about Kara's love life, something embarrassing about her tastes, a secret, a scandal.

But no one ever asks her about the dancing.

And Lena knows all about the dancing.

There's the carrot in a blender, a dance Kara and Alex made up together where Kara remains stiff at first before jerking faster and faster at more violent and violent speeds. You can infer the rest.

Then, there's the Mariah Carey big arm, a Christmas classic. Kara snaps her arm huge above her head, a perfect parabola that ends right at the beat of the chorus. It is done without fail every time any single in the entire fifteen album discography plays.

Then, there's the Stevie Nicks Witchy Woman, one of the most embarrassing for Lena to witness as it involves Kara swaying at her, both arms out and smiling wide as she pretends to cast a spell.

The National Parks Dance, one that only appears to be inspired by a particularly beautiful scene of nature. This involves a lot of booty shaking.

The Blink 182 Jump, which seems reminiscent of an early experience, possibly middle school, where Kara might've gone through a metal rock phase.

The Heart Beat, another embarrassing time for Lena, where Kara presses both palms over her heart to the tune of very heavy eye contact while she beats her hands to the rhythm of the song.

And then, of course, the full N'Sync Bye, Bye, Bye choreography. No explanation needed.

Lena's seen it all. Too much, perhaps. There are many more, unnamed dances that comprise quite a bit of straight arms, flailing, jumping, ice skater-like spins, and knees lifted beyond hip level. Many, many jazz hands. Lena's seen Kara's body contort beyond the realm of physics, beyond the capacity for human movement. She's seen live action Disney Princess renditions at Karaoke that would take your breath away. And they always, always make Lena's heart flutter, her cheeks pinken. They make her laugh, uncomfortable, pained almost as her emotions roil. What are they? She's not sure. She's envious, in a way, then sometimes shy, singled out, special. She's captivated, enchanted, can't look away. It's only Kara, Kara, who's able to reduce her to such a confused state.

At the wedding, Lena's already born witness to the sprinkler, the fishing line, the cabbage patch, and a kind of improvised Irish jig. Esme can't stop laughing. What Lena doesn't expect, however, is for Kara to extend a hand to her. The music is slow, and she wrangles Lena into her arms after an initial, albeit entirely for show refusal. Kara knows Lena can't dance, but Kara doesn't care. Regardless, this is new, Lena thinks. They've danced at bars, at clubs, where Kara lingers in her space, a kind of unreadable look on her face, but the way Kara's looking at her now is not accidental. It's intentional, her fingers squeezing slight at the base of Lena's hips… it feels like a prelude.

And well. Lena won't be sharing this with any reporters any time soon.

#supercorp #ficlet #anon prompt #warm up #i haven't written in 150 years and i want to write something new so i have to remember how again #hr's askhole

[ussjellyfish]

6, 8, 24 for the fanfic new year asks, if you like! :)

Thank you!

6. Which yet-to-be-started fic is first on your list?

The first part (I think it's a trilogy? Maybe?) If the Temporally Bizarre, somewhat redacted, Autobiography of Lulu Georgiou, Starfleet Admiral, (retired).

The first part being her recollection of the time she violated temporal law to meet her father and see what the 23rd century was like (and accidentally meet her very not reformed mother) and probably get help from Captain Philippa Georgiou, because that's impossible to resist).

Which would have to be told from the perspective of like 150+ year old Lulu commenting on her journals and what she remembers from being 17 and foolish.

It'll be wild. I might get distracted and write other things. It sounds so fun though. (To me and like ... Me, it's so self-indulgent.)

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

Maybe I write Michael/Philippa (captain variety)? I don't know! Usually I write the ridiculous things I think about eventually.

There's Katrina and Emperor fall in love in the awkward future where really they both should be dead (but that's a short fic).

Emperor has to pretend to be Captain long term when the war doesn't end when it's supposed to. (But she'd be SO early on the 'be a somewhat decent person" journey.)

I have half an idea about Post-Terra Firma Emperor being stuck with fixing the post Picard season 1 Starfleet Intelligence mess but it's like....all incredulous looks and snark.

It'll probably Lulu-something, because I love her, or some truly bizarre idea that I haven't come up with yet because the best ideas have to be in the middle of the night.

I have spent a year investing my whole soul in a not romantic in the slightest babyfic that is by some metrics one of the least popular things I have very written. I fear no ridiculous Fic idea.

24. By the end of this year, you want your fandom to think of you as “that author who _______.”

Aren't I already "that author who wrote the one where [insert female character here] was pregnant?" (I think I have actually had this as a conversation).

When I was pregnant, I didn't need to write about it. When I would like to be pregnant and am not (because money/timing/so much of this is just luck) I want to write about it.

I think (unfortunately? Perhaps?) I am conditioned to feel bad about writing fic about pregnancy.

It's *disturbing and/or triggering for a lot of people* (actual conversation).

And sure! I get it, it's complicated. (But other people write things that are disturbing and/or triggering and don't feel bad about it).

I should not write it, it's cringey. I should not write it, these characters don't want children. I should not write it it's...profoundly unwanted. I get it.

It is in my current fandom corner it is the least wanted thing I write. The least read, the least supported, especially if I want to write Discovery. Maybe I could get away with a little bit in Beverly/Kathryn space? (This uh, doesn't really exist though, it's like a pocket universe somewhat adjacent to Beverly/Deanna or Janeway/Seven).

(Kind of like how the Michael Burnham appreciation server doesn't exist? )

"that author who wrote that really long pregnancy fic about [character] that I heard was good, but I didn't read it" is probably like...peak fandom for me.

(they heard it was good, dammit.)

And it is! Weirdly my fandom self doubt is NOT that I write well. I can put the words in order in ways that please me. My fandom self doubt is that no one wants what I want to write.

2021 had a lot of me getting over that. Learning NOT to check for comments after I post a chapter, learning to enjoy the process, not the results, and I'm maybe halfway there?

I have some resentment. If I just wanted to write X and Y instead I might have more of a community. I might feel more like I belong.

Lazing on my own fandom island with a coffee when the occasional reader drops by to ask "hey aren't you that author who wrote the one where Philippa had a baby on the bridge?"

That's me!

So maybe 2022 is when I stop feeling guilty about it.

#start of the year asks #thank you!

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 17. Loneliness

A/N: We are getting closer to the end of Snapemas and I wanted to write something I haven't done earlier through this prompt list. Fair warning, it is a bit sad... But I feel like this is yet another subject to shine some light on. There are some cute/sweet parts too! (Written on mobile so the paragraphs are a bit wonky, sorry 'bout that!)

Setting: Christmas party at the Burrow, Snape is approximately 85-90 years old

Characters: MANY xD

Word count: 1814

Warnings: Major Character Death

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

After the war, so many years ago, Harry had told everyone of his exceptional work and dedication. He had been celebrated as a hero along with many others. He was acknowledged and people were not so frightened of him back then as they had been earlier. They nodded at him on the streets, the students had asked him to tell them stories more times than he could remember and he had made friends and amends.

Yet, none had found him to be of romantic interest. None had found him worthy of their time and love. None had found him to be partner material and he had never had a romantic relationship. One night stands, sure. But no relationship of mutual love, not a single person to share his life and home with. He had thought, he had hoped, that one day someone would find him worthy but it had never happened.

So there he was, sat in a wonky armchair surrounded by other families and everything brimmed with joy. Except he felt none. He was empty and sad, alone in the world. He knew all too well that once the party was over he would go back to his dusty home and silence would fall again. As it always did. He would cook for one, do laundry for one, clean only the spaces he used and the morning coffee would always be shipped in solitude. Not that it will continue for much longer, old as I am and my body giving way. He allowed the thought to linger. Sure, he could make potions, keep his health up and live to 150 probably. But what was the point of that?

"Severus, dinner is nearly ready. Shall I ask Ron to help you get seated?" It was Hermione who spoke to him with a soft smile on her lips as she marched over.

"I am quite alright to get seated on my own," he huffed with a slight sneer but Hermione only rolled her eyes.

"Everyone, it time to eat!" She called so loudly it could be heard all the way through the Burrow. Just as Molly's voice had once been heard even in the smallest of corners and highest of rooms.

"Come on now, up you get," she said and grabbed him with strong arms.

She marched him over to the table as his back ached terribly and his knees refused to function smoothly. She plopped him down and he sneered at her.

"There we go," she said with a smile as she patted his shoulder.

"Now, don't be a Grinch and smile." Severus could not help but do as he was told since it was nearly a tradition for her to utter those words. She gave his shoulder another pat as the table was swarmed by several generations and it was extremely cramped. But Hermione always made sure he had enough space, even if the newest generation always wanted to crawl all over him. Why? He had no idea. Perhaps all the stories their parents and grandparents had told them of the war, of his part in it.

"Granma' 'mione" Hermione turned at the little girl who stood next to her leg.

"What is it dearie?" The granddaughter of Harry and Ginny had clearly inherited her looks from the Weasley side of the family with her red sparkling hair and twinkling eyes of mischief.

"I wanna sit here," the girl said and pointed to the chair next to Severus. Hermione smiled.

"I think your father wants to sit here," she said and the little girl pouted while Hermione smiled so widely her eyes wrinkled even more.

"Bu' I wanna sit by Uncle Sevy!" She stomped her foot with an angry expression and Hermione sighed.

After a while, and some bickering about who would sit where, everyone had a place in the recently remodelled and extended dining hall of the Burrow. Hermione had done a great deal to fix up the place as she and Ron were the only ones who wanted the place when Molly and Arthur had passed away from old age. Severus had helped with some magical binding spells and such but he had not been able to do much as his body did not age well. Hermione always said it was because he didn't allow enough joy and exercise in his life and he always huffed at the words. But lately, lately everyone had seemed more worried about him and comments like that had stopped coming. He suspected it was because he was truly old and brittle now.

"Well go ask-"

"Of course you shall sit by my side you little trickster," Severus said with a thunderous voice and the girl beamed at him before she quickly crawled up on the chair and Hermione simply scooted her in closer to the table as Albus came in.

"That's my seat!" He said and he played the shocked parent role as his daughter laughed on a giggle.

"Uncle Sevy said I get so sit with him," she giggled with a proud expression and Albus shook his head in defeat as his daughter, being merely 5 years old, was as headstrong as any child could possibly be.

"There is room for everyone," Hermione chided and Albus took the seat next to his daughter as the chair on the other side of Severus had already been claimed by the grandchild of Hermione and Ron, one of Hugo's daughters. Little Mary. She was a quiet child, as in she did not speak unless it was an absolute necessity, but very attentive and brilliant in her own way.

The chaos of Christmas dinner ensued after some thanks had been said for everyone's attendance, and the children begged for their gifts to be delivered after dinner. Hermione, the boss of them all, had shut it down with a few chosen words. So they all started to eat, talk and laugh again. The house was truly filled to the brim with them all. Three generations, four if you counted Severus as a separate one, which surely made sense?

The food was delightful, the children as well. The adults were in the middle of various conversations while helping the little ones. Severus kept a close eye on the two little ones closest to him and helped them as much as he could while Albus's daughter blabbered about gifts, school and the new pyjamas her mom had given her a week earlier - apparently, it had reindeer on it and that was obviously very important to tell him. On his other side sat Hugo's daughter in silence for a long time as she gently ate and listened to the conversations around her. She was also 5 years old and yet she seemed very different from the rest of the children. Less out there and more closed of. Severus found himself to be very attentive to her, even when the other children and adults called for his attention he still had her under his gaze.

Once the table was cleared and the squadron of Weasleys and Weasley-related people had moved out to the living room while the Potters and Potter-related people trailed after Severus was still sat by the table. He was looking out the window as snow fell silently in tiny little glittering flakes. Someone tugged on his sleeve. Hugo's daughter, Marry, wanted his attention. He glanced down at her.

"Yes?" His tone was as gruff as always yet there was a hint of a surprise in there somewhere. Mary looked intently at him, unflinching and unwavering.

"Can I sit?" She pointed to his lap and Severus opened his arms so the girl could climb up into his lap. It was an odd feeling. Not that the children didn't do it, even the previous generation had wanted to sit in his lap - well that time it was harder to accept but eventually, he had learnt to deal with having children crawl all over him. No this was an odd feeling as Mary never wanted to sit in a lap, be hugged or held in any way. She wanted no physical contact with others when it wasn't on her terms. And everyone respected that (even though he knew it hurt her mother deeply). But she snuggled into him, her knees raised as she leaned her side into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her gently. They both looked out the window in silence for a moment.

"Does it hurt?" she asked and Severus arched a brow at her. He was still rather good at that.

"Does what hurt?" he asked and the girl ever so slightly tilted her head.

"Life." Severus gawked at the girl. His mouth slightly open as that was in no way a question someone so young should ask.

"I saw it," she whispered, "the hurt, the bad people." Mary fidgeted with her fingers as she looked down.

"You saw it? Severus asked and she nodded silently.

"Would you like to tell me?" he asked and she nodded again.

"What did you see?" He asked and she peaked up at him.

"I see all kinds of things," she said softly, " some good, some bad, some make me sad. Like you. When I see things from you it makes me sad. You seem sad. It hurts," she said and Severus was quite surprised at how well-spoken she was for her age - and the fact she barely talked.

"Is that so?" She nodded at his words. He gave her a small smile.

"Well, you see Mary, life is difficult. Life is hard. But it is also beautiful," he said as he struggled to find words the little child could understand and also not to tell her too much.

"There are good people and bad people, there is love and hate. Some choose the wrong path and end up at the wrong place," he continued as they both yet again looked out the window.

"I don't understand. You are good but your life was bad? Wasn't it?" Her direct words cut through him harshly yet he smiled as she called him good. Children, unlike adults, said what they thought and felt. No filtering. Just honesty.

"True, my life was not easy-"

"And grandpa's pa was mean to you. But you like grandpa? You protected him? I don't understand." Severus stiffened, how do you know that?

"Mary, can I ask, what exactly do you see?"

"Well, I-" a burst of loud laughter broke through their little bubble and Mary jump a little as she grabbed on to Severus.

She relaxed again, "well I see what has happened, what might happen too. Sometimes it's really clear but sometimes it's hard to see. It's, foggy. I think that is the things that might happen."

"I think you're right," Severus murmured. Maybe she's a seer?

"Have you talked to your parents?" Mary shook her head, "Is this why you don't want to be touched?" Mary nodded, "do you see things about people more often when they touch you?" he continued in a steady, unwavering rhythm of his thunderous yet low voice. Mary nodded again.

"I see."

"That's my line," Mary said with an attempt at a smile. Severus smiled and gave her leg a little pat.

Yet, a thought occurred to him.

"May I ask, why you are willing to sit with me?" Mary tensed ever so slightly.

"Do you want to know?" Severus nodded sharply. He did indeed want to know even though he had a hunch.

"I don't see more foggy things from you and it feels, feels different. Feels like there is no more." Severus sighed, he understood her words. He had felt life slip away the past year as well.

"And the bad stuff, there is not so much bad left in them. Have you, hrm... I don't know the word."

"Accepted them and moved passed it?" Mary nodded that that was what she meant, "I believe so, I believe I've come to terms with those things in the past."

"But not the loneliness, I see it. The empty house. The coffee cup." Severus sighed at that.

After a moment of silence where Mary curled up even more and leaned her head against his chest that rose and sunk with every breath.

"I'm gonna miss you," she said in a hushed whisper. He gently stroked the top of her head, a coldness spread through him as the realisation truly hit him. He was nearing the end of what was his life. And who knew what waited beyond the border between eh living and dead; certainly not he.

"I will miss you as well. But I won't go far," he said softly and she chuckled ever so slightly.

"You shake when you talk uncle Sevy," she said, "it feels nice."

"Well, I have a deep voice. It happens," Severus said with a tired yet warm smile as he relaxed with her in his lap.

"It's nice," Mary whispered and after a moment he felt her body grow heavy as she silently fell asleep cradled in his arms.

It took several minutes before Hermione appeared in the doorway, just outside of Severus view as he was watching the snowfall outside still. She silently beckoned Ron, Hugo and Hugo's wife Ellie to come over. She pointed towards Severus and little Marry who was slumbering deeply. They all had wide smiles over their lips as they watched the scene.

"She's, she's in his arms," Ellie whispered on a suffocated sob. Hugo hugged his wife gently as tears gleamed in his eyes as well. Hermione stepped over as silently as she could.

"I'll take her," she whispered and Severus arched a brow at her.

"She's fine here," he said as he actually did not want to let the little girl go. Not for his sake, no, but for her sake. Little Mary, who never got human contact without an ensuing anxiety attack or crying. Little Mary, only five years old, who had to see things none should. Not only the one life she lived but everyone else's as well. He held her softly and Hermione nodded.

"I'll check on you in a moment," she said and he nodded ever so slightly. Hermione left and took the rest of the crowd that had gathered with her before she closed the door and left Severus in solitude with the sleeping child cradled ever so gently in his embrace.

When Hermione came back over an hour later Mary was sleeping even deeper. Her little hand splayed over Severus's chest and her head slightly tilted where it rested against his arm. she was heavy ad his legs had fallen asleep but he did not mind, no he did not mind one bit as Mary had a tiny smile on her lips as she slept peacefully.

"Should we put her to bed?" Hermione whispered and Severus nodded with a small smile. It was indeed time to let go. Hermione skillfully snuck her arms in under Mary, but the little girl stopped smiling instantly. Hermione swiftly walked out with the little girl as Hugo entered the room with Ellie in tow.

"Thank you," Ellie whispered as she silently cried tears of joy.

"How did you manage to get her to sit in your lap? Please, tell us," Hugo said and Severus gave the couple a tired smile.

"She asked, I obliged," he simply stated. They looked a bit confused at that. But Severus ignored it.

"You have a gifted daughter," he said, "and I do not mean that in the general spew people cast about when it comes to children. I truly mean, she is gifted. You ought to speak with her, and get help." This seemed to both concern and confuse the couple. Severus allowed his gaze to glide over to the window. An old man's pleasure, to look at the world outside.  

"What, what do you mean, Severus?" Hugo asked as he crouched beside him.

"She's a seer," he simply stated.

"A, a seer?" Ellie asked as she sat down on a chair next to Severus.

"Indeed, and physical contact gives her more visions. visions of the past, the present, the future. It's all quite much for suck a young girl. You ought to get her help, allow her to explore and train her ability before it hurts her even more," Severus said and he did try his hardest to do so in a gentle way.

"She told you?" Severus nodded at Hugo's words.

"She, she never told us she, we just thought she, was special. Had special needs..." Ellie sobbed and Hugo looked as if he was devising a plan. Severus did not really concern himself with it as he knew he would not be here long enough to see what happened. He had felt it, and with Mary's words, he knew it. It was all ending.

Once Harry had dropped Severus off at his home and apparated back to the Burrow Severus sagged in the hallway. He was exhausted and he felt as if he could sleep for weeks. It was indeed a struggle to just undress and get ready for bed. But once he was properly tucked in while wearing his most comfortable nightshirt he slowly drifted off to the world of dreams. Little Mary's smiling face greeted him and she took his hand in hers. It was warm and soft, gentle as she tugged him through a field of sunflowers that echoed with children's laughter and the softest of music lingered in the wind.

The living room was filled with talk about Mary as Severus felt himself grow even more tired.

"Severus, would you like Harry to take you home?" Ginny asked with a gentle smile as she walked up to him.

"I presume that would be in order," Severus said and Ginny immediately told Harry who got dressed in coat and boots as Ginny helped Severus get dressed. He felt such disgrace at being such an ordeal but Ginny kept telling him it was no trouble and that they loved to have him with them. He could not fathom why and did not dare to question it as that might have changed their minds. They were, after all, the closest thing he had to a family. How it came about he still could not quite understand but it had happened at another Christmas party many years ago.

His breathing slowed as he found peace. His heart stopped beating as he felt warmth and joy spread through his younger body in the world of dreams and love. His soul drifted away, led by Mary's sweet smile as she called for him to come home and be free. All that was him left the world of the living and his body that still had a face etched with a soft smile. As he stepped over the border and embraced eternity Mary let go of his hand. And he knew, knew he would see her again, in many years when she was old and wise. When she had lived her life he would great her with a smile as he was no longer lonely and cold.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Uffh, this hurt to write but at the same time, I really wanted to try my hand at this kind of sorrow and joy... This older version of Severus, this lonely version who never got a chance at love in life. but who still managed to find joy and peace in the end.

I hope you guys liked this despite it being dark/sad and different <3

Tags: @lizlil @snapefiction  @morphineisouthoney​ @setsuna-meiou31​ @snapefiction​ @monstreviolet

[Dec:2020]

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[not-close-to-straight]

I just want you to know that recently whenever I finish a fic and I don't know what to read next, instead of scrolling through tags, desperately hoping I'll find something that is well written and engaging, I just default to your works page on Ao3 and look for something that I haven't read within the last few weeks. Your works are always my favorites and I've never once been disappointed. They're always heartwrenchingly beautiful and your writing is so captivating and quite frankly, 1/

You've rather ruined me for any other fics. Which is unfortunate when I find a new fandom to be a part of. (Lmao) More Than Words is so so so perfect, and I can't wait to see how you resolve the whole "separated by 150 years" conundrum. I have some theories, but I'll wait patiently to see if I'm right. I don't think I'll ever be over the way you write the Spideypool dynamic. It's just so perfect, with Peter being so so sweet and wary of Alphas and the sassiest kid around and then 2/

What the shit, this is an amazing compliment haha thank you so much! I love that! I am someone who never EVER re reads books, so knowing that I am writing fics you want to read over and over again is just amazing. Thank you. 

The time travel resolution is literally amazing in this fic, maybe one of my best plot arcs ever?? I’m thoroughly enjoying every step along the way writing this thing but also I literally can’t wait until you guys get to the “back to the future” part because I’ve had it planned for over a year (not exaggerating, this fic has been in my “idea docs” since fall of 2018) and now I finally get to write it! 

[albie79]

Do you ever come up with half an idea? Like the outline to a story without really knowing how to start/end it? Do you then put it to one side and come up with another half-idea?

I seem to have a collection of half-ideas, destined never to be completed. I figured I’d get some of them out there to an audience, to see if any of you can spark some imagination in me to complete these particular stories.

The first is one I’ve mentioned before, Hindsight Boy. So, yes, something similar was done by South Park (and previously Marvel), but the idea has stayed with me for years. Here’s the gist…

Young lad living in a Sea City apartment with his aunt and her abusive boyfriend. He is often locked in his barren bedroom, hearing his aunt being verbally and physically assaulted. He's never been brave enough to call the police or strong enough to interject, fearing for his own safety. He finds an escape in climbing out of the window and onto the roof of the building, where he can see the city. He follows sirens as they fly past, running from rooftop to rooftop with his self-taught free running skills as he heads to the scene of the crime/accident/fire. Years of doing this has given him an uncanny knack of knowing what the emergency services do, and what they should have done when things go awry. One particular night he is spotted by a fireman after they have failed to save a family in a burning building, he tells him what he should have done, to which the fireman responds "what are you, hindsight boy?" He starts to try and get to incidents quicker, telling the emergency services what they should do, but they ignore him. But some start to realise that he's right and they take him under their wing. One day he runs right to a domestic violence case, which reminds him of his aunt's situation. And that's where things take a turn...

So that’s the set-up, and I know how I want it to end too, I’ve just not got the middle bit sorted. I have the first chapter written, in prose, but I’m not sure if that’s the best format for the story, I’ve started to picture it more as a one off graphic novel more recently. I’ve never got past writing more than that first chapter though.

Part of the idea behind Hindsight Boy was “what if Uncle Ben was a dick to Aunt May?” or “What if Thomas Wayne was the criminal and not the victim?” The superhero stories so often have a character that helps mould them and gives them their moral guidance. But what happens when that person is a grade A arsehole?

I guess that aspect has become interesting to me again more recently, with me becoming a father in the near future and becoming more and more aware of just how much our kids learn from us; whether we intend them to or not.

The one thing I’m up for changing though… the name. Too similar to South Park’s Captain Hindsight or Marvel’s Hindsight Lad (who is often included on lists of the worst superheroes of all time).

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Hindsight Lad

Captain Hindsight

After putting Hindsight Boy on the back burner I came up with a character called Han and the crew of idiots he works with. The Secret Life of Han was born.

Han is a health insurance claims assessor for Avenue Health just outside Sea City. He works with a bunch of morons, lives on his own and hates most things in existence. So he's your bog standard single British guy in his 30's. Except he wears a wrestling mask and cape to work and people are starting to think he's a former superhero. "The 6" were a British Superhero group who disappeared ten years ago after a massive brawl between them ended with them sinking the Isle of Wight. Some think they all died in the incident, others believe they are being held in some secret super-prison at the bottom of the English Channel and some believe they were mind-wiped by the government and put back into society.

Avenue Health was to be my version of Aviva, based on my time working there. The characters were amalgamations of the people I worked with, I picked character traits from a few different people to create each character… with the exception of Zack. Zack would just be Zack, a carbon copy. For those unfamiliar with Zack, check out @ZackRandom on twitter to see some of his best quotes.

For this idea I imagined a comic book, and I have the first issue scripted and the next 11 issues outlined very briefly. But I kept changing my mind about what I wanted to happen and I just stopped writing it.

Part of me wanted to never see superheroes in the story, so the “is he/isn’t he” mystery would never truly be solved and would instead the whole thing would be some kind of Office Space/Scott Pilgrim inspired weirdness.

Secret Life of Han is kind of saying “we don’t need heroes to save us, we just need to not be so fucking stupid and self-obsessed”.

My original design for Han

Fast forward to this year and another idea struck me. This one I call OAP: Old and Powerful.

Follows an ageing superhero who has retired from active duty, enjoying some peace on the South Coast, in Pier City. His body may be too weak to fight crime, but his powers are still enough for him to fly around the retirement home - a handy ability for someone whose joints are riddled with arthritis and who finds it hard to stand unaided. New heroes haven't appeared since his generation began to age. Some old heroes, like him, are retired. Some continued to fight too long and passed away, heart attacks and strokes being common amongst the hero community. But the villains, they never seem to go away, and when one begins causing problems for our hero, he has to take some unusual steps to save his retirement home.

This one’s a bit more basic, but then I did only think of it recently! But it’s another story that’s on the fringes of superhero stories, just with a little twist. I think this one is inspired more than a little by Bubba Ho-Tep, and definitely needs a lot more work.

Elvis & JFK get ready to battle evil in Bubba Ho-Tep

So, what do you think of my ideas? Got any suggestions or critiques? I’d be interested to hear what you think, especially if you’re up for fleshing the stories out some more as a co-writer. 😛

New Blog Post: Half Ideas (AKA my unfinished #comicbook stories) Do you ever come up with half an idea? Like the outline to a story without really knowing how to start/end it?

#Hindsight Boy #OAP #Old and Powerful #Secret Life of Han