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@seenashwrite / seenashwrite.tumblr.com

Failed Southern belle. Likely older than you. Vulgar wench. Sweaty try-hard. Wannabe script doctor. Vigilant newb. Fifteen pieces of flair. Potty mouth. Your fave. Plus, I'm incredibly funny. And humble. 18+ Followers only, please. I no longer take requests via anon due to lack of follow-ups letting me know it was seen & appreciated. **ON HIATUS** 🌟 MOBILE MASTER LIST 🌟
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Nash’s 12 Days of Christmas [Day 12]

~ MERRY CHRISTMAS! ~

It’s taken awhile to get things buffed & shined, but Top of the World is back with a new chapter*. If you’ve downloaded the story, I encourage you to replace it with this freshened-up version, though if not, no worries - there’s been no changes to the plot points that you remember. And boy howdy, are things about kick off again for the Winchesters and their friends.

If you haven’t started in on this story yet, I’ll tell you upfront: the tone is quite different than most everything you’ve read from me thus far. It is structured like a novel, and styled so that you can imagine it playing out as realistically as if you were watching it unfold over a season on TV.

Thank you to my loyal followers of TotW, for all your feedback & encouragement. This is what got me involved in this fandom, and it’s been a wild ride! 

Choose your road so far:

||  AO3  ||  - or -  ||  FF.net  ||  

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Unfinished Thoughts: A Blurby Thingy [TotW stuff + Your Girl's Gotten Some Hope Back].

This one's about my big dog story that's currently on mini-hiatus til after the season finale. Carry on if you haven't been reading it 'cause this will most likely mean zippo to you.

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Doozy & The Wonder Plunges.

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Whew, I am finally caught up! That was a doozy! I really need to make a recording when I read the next chapter because I’ll yell stuff and gasp and it might be amusing. Like I think I said "No!” several times. Probably “Sam?!!”; “Oh my gosh! I can’t *handle* this!” etc. Anyone who is not caught up on her tale of wonder should take the plunge. It’s well worth the emotional trauma and staying up til 2am to finish the chapter.

@impandagrl, in your lovely feedback which tickles me pink, you have possibly stumbled upon what may be the greatest name for an 80s cover band, like, ever. Though, could be good name for a company specializing in plumbing services... genius, regardless. 

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“Top of the World” Excerpt - Chapter Fifteen: Apologias

"Top of the World” has been updated at FanFiction.net and AO3 [doling it out a little slower at Wattpad, just FYI]. Getting more and more difficult to excerpt these without spoiling as time goes on, so here’s a little piece of funny.

The trio sat quietly, staring down at the letter for what seemed like hours, til Sam once more broke the silence saying, and not without a touch of desperation in his voice:

"Can we please get drunk?"

"YES!"

Which is how they found themselves, about an hour-and-a-half and nine-to-twelve shots of whiskey between them later, nursing some on-the-rocks and honestly answering Jane's query regarding what they'd been up to - really up to.

Jane, out of breath from laughter, tears on her cheeks, was sputtering out her most recent commentary on what she’d been told. 

"And... and... wait, so then whoosh ohmigawd NOT SMOKE! Bwah-ah-hahahahahaha..."

"It was... really dark. And fast!" attempted Sam, looking to Dean for an assist.

For a moment, Dean appeared to consider it, then shrugged and took a long swig from his glass.

"Ah, oh, I can't," said Jane, wiping away the tears and then wrinkling her nose as she stared down at her glass of mostly ice cubes.

Dean noticed, made a give it here gesture, so she smiled and handed it over. While he stood at their make-shift bar on the desk and poured, Jane looked to Sam.

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Damn, @seenashwrite‘s Top of the World ruined fic for me.

I have well over 1000 fics on my hard drive and I’m not in the humour of any of them.

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seenashwrite

Well, I said it before & I’ll say it again - Ruinin’ is what I do best.

Thank you much for the compliment... only 25% apologetic about that other thing. [wink]

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Fic rec: Top of the World

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seenashwrite
juppschmitz:
Today I’d like to recommend a fic that I myself normally wouldn’t go near with a 10-foot-pole. It’s one of my least favourite fic tropes (not destiel!), AND it’s a WIP.
However, I was talking to the author, who is quite certain that the fic will be finished, so there’s that. And the way she took her time to talk to me about this fic was so friendly, and generous, and funny that I HAD to give it a try.
And here I am, six days later, having gobbled it all up. All 150k+ words of it. And I loved it. It is beautifully written, all the show characters are very much in character, all original characters are adorable/intriguing/weird. My biggest issue is always how Dean is written, and he is pitch perfect. None of the long monologues you sometimes get (which may be very good, but just not very Dean). He is funny, he is belligerent, he is protective. You really get the impression that the author loves and gets Dean.
And even though the main plot of the story revolves around something I normally hate, it all makes sense here. It is not forced, or embarrassing, or just plain wrong. The story is long, and windy, with lots of surprises, and boy are there some great scenes.
So, if you’re interested in a really well plotted, incredibly well written, loooong ensemble fic, you might give this a try:
Top of the World (by KDNash) on AO3.

@juppschmitz​ - You have just made the management at The NashHole©℗ ™ [The Commissioner of the story] have a come-apart, and I don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt. You not only reviewed the hell out of me off-site but now you’ve just given me the vapors on Tumblr as well. 

Thank YOU for YOUR time - you were [and are!] a pleasure to speak with & I never EVER mind getting questions on the story or what brought it about. Imma go do a shot of whiskey now to calm my twitterpations.  

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Let It Not Be Said I Don’t Embrace The Input Of My Darling Lil’ NashHoles.

@impandagrl & @amanda-teaches - Yes, it’s out. I call my readers NashHoles in my mind, because you have to have a certain level of snarkery within you, not to mention a tolerance for my occasional assholiness. And plus you’re yummy, like donut holes. 

Now, then....

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seenashwrite

Gaslight.

Further rumination on that last quote post… popped it atop a chunk from a not-so-distant chapter… just processing “out loud”, needed to see it “up” vs. just in my notes…  maybe it’ll just stay a tiny little vignette-y, one-off, side-show thing from the main attraction. -N.

When Dean walked into the library, all shuffling slippers and sips of coffee, she began to read aloud.

“They could be careless people, Sam and Dean. They smashed up things and creatures, then retreated back into their bunker or their vast solitude, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the messes they had made…”

He rubbed at his unshaven jaw with his free hand, blinking purposefully more than a few times as he eased into better lighting. Threw a yawn and a head scratch in there somewhere to completely paint the picture. She met his grogginess with sharp eyes, bringing her gaze up and over the top of her reading glasses.

“That’s kinda pretty,” Dean commented, flopping into a chair across the table from her. Then, after a moment of consideration – 

“I mean, it’s also kinda insulting. But pretty. You write that?”

She grinned. “No. Well. Sort-of.”

That earned her a look.

“The parts about you guys are all me. The pretty belongs to Fitzgerald.”

“Who?”

@seenashwrite  About this fic…

Should it be included within the body of a larger work? Does it work as a separate, standalone piece? Should it be a companion piece – attached to (but not technically part of) a larger work, like a sidecar to a motorcycle?….

Any and/or all of the above. It makes sense on its own, and feels “complete” enough to work as an independent piece. It also makes sense as an aperçu under the umbrella of…oh, I dunno, saaayy….a novel, maybe? It’s uniquely malleable in that sense, and I can honestly say that I can’t think of another example of that kind of “format flexibility" in anything else I’ve read. (Like, ever.)

I also love the pace – it reads like an actual conversation. Not so much detail as to bog down the dialogue (à la Faulkner), but not so sparsely-described as to leave the reader feeling disoriented in their imagined surroundings. Just enough imagery to set the scene in a believable way without being overbearing, striking a happy medium between .

But my favorite thing about this? My absolute hand-down, number one, top-of-the-heap favorite thing? You give the reader credit for being a sentient, intelligent, active participant in this scene. You don’t dumb-down the humor (of which there’s an assload), over-explain literary references, or make the real-life reader feel less intelligent than the one in the story. And on top of everything else, you did all of this while managing to make Dean and Sam ring true to their on-screen characters.

In summation: I dig it, dude. I dig it like dirt.

Two things: @hamartiamacguffin - This feedback’s got me feeling Deanmotion. [See below, RE: indescribable facial contortions that could be confusion, pleasure, pain, excitement, disbelief, and any number of as-yet-known alien communication methodology. We shall send in Jensen Ackles, not Amy Adams when they come.]  

Second thing: Your gif game is, per usual, jammin’.

But I digress. I noted, post-praise haze, that I’d left out an Entire. Damn. Sentence. Not one that throws the whole thing, true, but jeez. I am lame-ing it up over here. Seriously, though - thank you. I don’t deserve it but will keep it tucked away, look at it time-to-time, remind me that it’s there for me to earn.

Now everybody else go read. I’m pretty okay at weaving a mystery. Probably because I’m that asshole who guesses the twists in stuff and assumes you have, too, and then bones everybody by bringing it up. Ahem.

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Here In My Garage: Canon Fodder, Round 3

The Commissioner: I bet you’ve already heard that--

Me: That Greer is not reading the story for funsies? That this is about finding mistakes? 

The Commissioner: He’s just--

Me: Even though there’s that folder with about a thousand screenshots of that unnav... innav... IT’S HARD TO NAVIGATE WRITING FOR A BUNKER THAT’S ACTUALLY A MISH-MOSH OF SEPARATE SETS [mumbles]

The Commissioner: But in chapter twelve... see - here, in the garage: you’ve got them on a staircase going *up*, and there’s no--

The Commissioner: What?

Me: There isn’t, but you know what is? 

Me: 3  Greers: 0

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Conversations with The Commissioner: Welcome to Hell.

The Commissioner: Okay. Okay. Okay, I just...

Me: What is wrong with you?

The Commissioner: Last night. The episode.

Me: I know, I know, I was like half-way in, half-way out, I was still knocking out a few things on the computer, I promise I'll watch it again... what?

The Commissioner: [has been shaking head]

Me: You're freaking me out.

The Commissioner: You're freaking ME out - you did it again. The bacon!

Me: [frowns] I definitely missed something last night.

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Inspiration One-Shot: The Laboratory

There’s something about stairs & hallways to nowhere in stories that I’ve always found chill-worthy. And we’ve already talked about doorways & archways that seem to lead nowhere, the guts it takes to walk through when you’re not entirely certain what’s on the other side. 

In my story, the characters know what’s beyond a door in their own home - they have to trust that the staircase to nowhere will lead them home again. They also know that down the staircase lies a laboratory. To them, there’s no choice but to visit - this laboratory holds a loved one.

The metallic tools aren’t hidden. The stark white lends itself to clarity. Still. They just see a whole lot of nothing.

[Credits after the jump]

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seenashwrite

My father is hard to impress, cares little about the arts & cares less-than-nothing about celebrity. He was fortunate enough to meet this classy lady many years ago, when she was searching for just the right specialist to treat a relative & it lead her to his hospital. 

The people accompanying her introduced her as Ms. Bacall. She shook his hand firmly & in that trademark smoky voice, she insisted he call her “Betty”. He said she asked great questions, really knew her stuff even though it wasn’t exactly in her wheelhouse & she left him a bit awestruck. 

I was impressed by that - so much so, the smartest character in my story [rapidly approaching novel status] is named for her: Betty.

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EXCERPT: Chapter Twelve - Murder Song

Excerpt from what? GO HERE

Jane held the razor higher, bringing it closer to her face, turning it, studying it

"You can come in," she said in a nearly monotone voice.

Crowley slowly walked into the light, holding a book, dressed in an impeccable suit as always.

"There's something about the juxtaposition of the razor and your bandaged wrists that reminds me of some sort of very special sitcom episode."

This got a tiny smile from Jane and resulted in one of his own.

Crowley took the stepladder and moved it a little closer, but not so close as to be hovering over her, then perched atop it.

"It is easy for someone to joke about scars if they've never been cut."

Crowley's eyebrows raised. "A fan of the bard?"

Jane didn't reply, still wasn't looking at him.

"And men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins," the demon quoted in reply.

"C.S. Lewis? Would not have expected that from you."

"And what would you find fitting for me, Miss Winchester?"

It was the second time in a day she'd been called that. It made her warm inside. Only briefly, before the cold set in again.

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Nash v. The Commissioner, Round 2: Canon Fodder

The Commissioner: Greer has a concern.

Me: Screw Greer.

The Commissioner: I kinda agree with him. There’s a canon mistake, sug.

Me: [much arrogance] Nope.

The Commissioner: [ignores] You mention Sam pulling a blanket from the dryer at the Bunker. We don’t know that they have one.

Me: [stares] They have a metric ton of computer-y stuff and a thousand bedrooms, are in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of men at various points, and you think they don’t have a washer/dryer?

The Commissioner: [shrugs]

Me: Okay, (A) screw Greer--

The Commissioner: Copy that.

Me: --and (B) the Bunker was built in 1935 and domestic washers/dryers became popular in the US in the late ‘40s/early '50s. Abaddon didn’t bust ‘em up til late ‘50s.

The Commissioner: Fine.

Me: SCREW GREER

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Inspiration One-Shot: “The Chapel Incident”

Nash, what the hell is “The Chapel Incident”?

Glad you asked. Go HERE. If you’ve not read the story, other than the pretty, this likely will mean zero, zip, nada to you.

[Sources]

  • Vintage chapel photo & abandoned church interior/pews via Google Image search
  • Aurora photos via CNN
  • All the rest from my favoritest of faves, the curators at Archillect
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EXCERPT - Chapter Eleven: Postcards from the Edge

Excerpt from what? GO HERE

* Not for nothing, but this one was the first to crack The Commissioner’s will, got both YAAAAASSSSes & tears * Also - yes, this was the title prior to the passing of CF, no exploitation intended just FYI

Dean was sitting, blankly staring at the wall with the two-way mirror, taking in his bruised jaw and bloodshot eyes when the door opened. The same policeman informed him that his lawyer was there, then stood aside. And in walked Andrew.

"Thank you," Andrew said to the policeman, perfectly polished, not a gelled-back hair out of place. He wore square-framed glasses, a pristinely tailored dark grey suit, carried a leather portfolio in his hand. He certainly looked the part, and Dean knew firsthand how well he could smooth-talk his way past anyone.

Taking a seat across from Dean, Andrew set the likely empty portfolio on the table, removed the glasses he didn't need, slipping them into the breast pocket, and then settled in. Arms on rests, hands folded over his lap, crossing his legs - the very picture of ease. They stared at each other for several moments, well after the click of the door and the sound of footfalls going away.

"Lawyer, huh? Figured I'd need one of those some day, and I guess I kinda figured they'd be a fake," Dean said, finally breaking the silence, then crossing his arms, flopping back in his chair.

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