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For the fic ask game, if you don't mind!
What two stories have you written that are most different? Why?
Hmmmm hard question bc there are so many metrics to that? My longest fic is still here (a plotty, angsty, pre-canon au with additional supernatural elements) and my shortest is so you went and had a threesome (400 words of post canon fluff. Theoretically canon compliant if you ignore the epilogue) which seems like a solid answer
I feel like probably a typical fic from me is a series of chronologically jumbled scenes making up a character or relationship study, and neither of those is that, either
Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if thereās a pattern! Thanks to @secondtolastrow for tagging me!
āHey Bobby!ā Mira, Zoey, and Rumi chorused, crowding around the latter's phone so they could all fit into the frame of the video call.
Isnāt this nice?
Over the years Rumi had discovered severalĀ unpleasantĀ things to wake up to:
"Now tell me about that one!" Cass slapped her finger on the illustrated page, a shadow puddling beneath the tip as the lamplight slid away like minnows from a curious stick poked into their midst.
Bobby sank back against the couch cushions with a sigh.Ā
It only seemed right, she reasoned; they were basically her daughters at this point, and, well, this was the kind of thing she wanted to talk to them about before actuallyĀ doingĀ it.
It was too easy.
Mira jerked her head up at the soft knock on her door, heart lurching into her throat.Ā
"Go!" It's like a shot of adrenaline has been injected into his veins.Ā
For Mira, birthdays were a monochrome affair.
With my fics, I like to try and get right into the action, even if it's just a conversation. Looking over these, I can definitely see I do that more often than not: apart from 2, 3, and 10 these all jump right in to the events of the fic, whether it's straight-up dialogue, physical motion, or someone making a decision they're going to act on. I like to have a mental picture of the scene I'm writing and 'setting the stage' with something of the setting, usually the characters and what they're thinking or doing, is (for me) a good way to do that.
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tell people you love their writing! tell them what you love! tell them you want more! writers don't get enough vocal attention and AI is demotivating them! don't let your favorite writers give up from under-appreciation!!
You know, I honestly thought I used this word more; took me a few tries to wind a WIP with it.
But! I have SUCCEEDED!
---
And because Celine had run her share of impertinent laps, she obeyed, focusing on the feel of Mi's hand carding through her hair and not the poke of plastic under her tongue that had bile trying to creep up her throat. It beeped, and Chan-ja-seonsaengnim clicked her tongue at the numbers.
"Well, that's certainly a fever. And you certainly look like you have one." She tapped the thermometer against her palm, humming thoughtfully. "It'd be a bad look for the group if you went on like this..." Tap tap tap as she pursed her lips and skated her eyes around the room, visibly weighing her options.
Had to take a minute and think on the first one. Usually the scene I'm most excited to write is the one I write first and wind up building the rest of the fic around. For 'Color Me Embarrassed,' that was the ending scene of Zoey and Mira confessing their most embarrassing moments; I knew exactly what I wanted them to be and how I wanted them to share them.
Looking back, though, I think I actually had more fun writing their initial conversation as they tried to sort out what was going on with Rum's patterns. It took more effort, but I really enjoyed those moments of problem-solving and realization.
As for the second...oh wow. Art, definitely; I love illustration as an artform in and of itself and always love seeing people make art of fics. If I could pick one of mine I'd probably go with a scene from 'Rage Against the Freeway' of the absolute chaos erupting in the car, on account that I've been laughing over that image for almost a year by now XD
Thanks so much for the ask! I really enjoyed these!
A while back, @fluffytheocelot did a post about Team Red and Memorial Day. It got me thinking, one thing led to another, and I wound up with a ficlet.
No plot on this one, just Team Red hanging out and bantering. To anyone who clicks below the break, hope you enjoy!
Shadowsan's eyes narrowed at the sixth bag of hot dog buns Zach unloaded on the counter. "You realize this amounts to thirty-two individual buns?"
"Thirty-six!" Ivy corrected, tossing bag number seven onto the pile.
Shadowsan grumbled at the teetering pyramid of highly processed carbohydrates. "And I presume you have a reason for purchasing thirty-six hot dog buns." (the omission of 'good' being intentional).
"These!" Grinning wildly, Zach upended a different shopping bag, dumping more packages of hot dogs than Shadowsan wanted to count on the counter, meaty thuds tumbling through the kitchen.
"Look, it's July 4th." Ivy planted a hand on her hip as Shadowsan grumbled louder (yes, omitting 'good' was appropriate). "Whaddya want us to do, be unpatriotic?"
"Remembering the founding of one's country has little do to with overindulging on processed meats," Shadowsan intoned.
"Not even if we wash them down with this?" Zach waggled his eyebrows as he hefted a pair of two-liter bottles of Coca-Cola in the air, labels spangled with red, white, and blue.
From the den, Player chuckled at the look of absolute horror that crossed Shadowsan's face at the display of 'patriotism' (or, at least, capitalism) before him. "Really glad I'm Canadian right now," Player said under his breath to Carmen, seated next to him on the couch.
Carmen hummed, not taking her attention from positioning her fingers for a G-chord on the guitar Player was teaching her to strum. "What, your family didn't clean out the grocery store for a cookout three days ago?"
"Here. Move your fingers- yeah, like that. And nope." Player's expression was smug as he sat back after adjusting Carmen's fingers on the strings. "We make a normal amount of hot dogs."
"This is normal!"
Player continued as if Zach and Ivy hadn't said anything. "Can confirm: gorging yourself on hot dogs is a distinctly American pastime. Case in point-"
Flipping open the laptop on the coffee table, Player typed something into the search bar and pulled up a video stream of a bevy of men taking their seats at a long table piled high with hot dogs.
"Ooh! Is that the Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest?!?" Zach zipped over and leaned over the back of the couch, sighing dreamily. "My life's goal..."
"An American Fourth of July tradition since 1972," Player said, shaking his head in something like disgust.
With the air of a man who is fully aware that curiosity murdered many a feline, Shadowsan drifted alongside Zach to see what the goal that had the boy staring starry-eyed at the laptop was. He had the (debatable) good fortune to arrive just as the emcee shouted "GO!" and the contestants started shoveling hot dogs down their gullets with a fervor and speed that was, in a word, nauseating.
He grimaced. "You should aspire higher, Zachary."
"Eating big is a time-honored American past time!" Zach protested, eyes not leaving the laptop. "Like Slurpee Big Gulps!"
Shadowsan despised Slurpee Big Gulps.
"How many can they eat?" Carmen asked while Shadowsan sharpened his glower, watching the spectacle with mixed fascination and revulsion (on the one hand, she'd seen Zach eat tacos; on the other...this was on a completely different level).
"The record is seventy-six," Player said flatly, arms folded.
āSomeone actually ate that many?ā Carmen furrowed her brow, trying to picture that while behind her, Shadowsan made a sound like he wished Player did not know quite so much trivia.
"The hero we don't deserve..." Zach murmured reverently.
"I'll say," Player muttered underneath the "Bro! Carm's right there!" Ivy, who was immune to the wonders/horrors of Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest, shouted from the kitchen.
"Well, we do deserve her! She's right here!" Zach beamed. "Besides, she doesn't mind sharing the limelight, right boss? I mean, look at these guys!"
"...Suuuuuure," Carmen said absently as a man dunked a hot dog in his glass of water and slid the soggy snack down his throat (...hopefully Zach's hero worship didn't culminate in emulation; she was suddenly concerned about the number of hot dogs they bought).
"Why are we all still watching this?" Shadowsan growled after five minutes passed and the laptop screen was still tuned to the contestants inhaling processed pork.
"Good point." Player flipped down the screen, eliciting a howl of protest from Zach. Ivy promptly yelled for him to come help her set up the grill on the patio, a chore he bounded off to with a golden retriever's enthusiasm, while Shadowsan followed with lengthy strides (true, the grill was of the electric variety and not half as riddled with fire-starting potential as its charcoal brethren, but a wise man did not make the same mistakes twice).
Alone in the den, Player flipped open the laptop again and made a face at the footage of the triumphant victor, pumping a belt with a gaudy fake-gold buckle in the air. "Iām gonna say it: the ways people celebrate this holiday make no sense.ā
Carmen strummed the strings, a velvety chord rustling the air. She was about to say sheās sure there was a reason (probably related to capitalism, like so many American traditions seemed to be), when two very out-of-tune voices singing along with the radio drifted through the open window right above the patio.
āBOOOOOORN IN THE USAAAAAA!!!ā
Carmen bit her lip, checking a grin as Player rolled his eyes and tromped to the window to shout down if they knew that staple of the patriotic songbook was actually critical of America. "Little short on holiday spirit, Player?"
"Only when a lack of listening comprehension is involved," he grimaced, coming back to the couch (really a second verse of his Christmas pet peeve, when "Hallelujah" was part of every holiday deejay's arsenal). "Surprised you're so into it, though." He tugged the sleeve of her shirt, striped red and white with thumbnail-sized blue stars sparkling here and there.
"It's important to Zach and Ivy," she shrugged. "And my color. Plus-" She paused, looking out the window to the bay and the horizon beyond. So similar to the one she gazed out at as a girl caged by the shores of the Island, and yet, in ways that transcended coruscations of sunlight on waves or the whitecaps dotting the expanse, so different.
"Independence is worth celebrating, you know?"
She didn't say more than that, but Player nodded understandingly all the same. "Yeah. It is."
You know Ben Franklin had a lot of audacity running off to France and leaving Moses to deal with the chaos of their YA enemies-to-lovers slow burn by himself
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i do think we should normalise being like. platonically enamoured with someone. perhaps i love and admire you dearly and there's nothing romantic about it
post film silly scenario Celine ends up getting into a fist fight with a would be mugger that gets caught on film and goes viral. Especially cause she won the fight even though she took some hits and the guy is jacked to all hell and well over six feet tall.
Celine has new fame and doesnāt know what to do with it.
Celine has been famous for a very long time but an idol must be fragile, feminine, almost to the point of parody. She has spent her life hiding her muscles, making people forget her height, acting as if her grace hasnāt an ounce of force behind it
Then she pins some guy against a wall and suddenly all of thatās gone. And everyone thinks itās great
Celine knows she's made mistakes in her life. Many, many mistakes. She knows she is not deserving of anything like compassion or kindness from the universe. She knows she deserves to suffer for the harm she's inflicted without meaning on Rumi and, by association, Mira and Zoey (never mind they've all, for some reason, forgiven her).
Still, this seems unduly cruel.
Groaning, she dropped her head in her hands, blocking out the compilation of headlines she'd had PR send over.
(PR insisted they could handle this, but no one questioned Kang-daepyonim.
Especially after last week).
Steeling herself, she opened the first link; a crisp image captured from a security camera (she missed the days when they were blurry and useless) filled her screen under the headline Former Idol Delivers Beatdown.
Ugh.
Two minutes. Two minutes, one very stupid mugger, and one well-placed camera to undo a lifetime spent cultivating the image of delicate feminity the industry demanded of idols. And now-
She grimaced at the next article: a listicle compiling people's...opinions on how she handled that mugger.
Opinions she knew for a fact Rumi would not want to see.
Deliberately skipping over that article, she moved to the next one.
Idol Turned CEO Takes Out Mugger! You'll Never Believe Who!
She really hated clickbait.
Next one.
Sunlight Sister says Lights Out!
What was it Zoey said- half as a joke- when she found out her favorite show got cancelled and ended on a cliffhanger?
Celineās perception of it changed when a timid, frail-looking intern (couldnāt be older than 20 years old, by the look of her) shakily entered Celineās office one day with the kind of bravery that stems from survival instead of confidence or boldness. It takes a moment for her to collect her thoughts, for the stammers to turn into actual words, but when she finally gains the strength to look Celine in the eye, she asks.
And itās not a ācan you make me look as cool as youā kind of ask. Itās a plea for help.
Please teach me how to defend myself. I donāt know who else to ask.
And it really shouldnāt be Celineās issue. She could get this girl in touch with some self defence instructors, or urge her to contact proper authorities, butā¦ Butā¦
She knows this industry. Too well, sometimes. And part of the reason she founded SE was to shield women idols from the worst of it. All of her employees should feel safe here. Andā¦should also feel safe outside of work.
Turns out, HR loved it. It cleaned her image up fast, once word got out that she was offering self defence classes to her employees.
Could you draw Sarah Phillips and James Hiller from Liberty's Kids? All grown-up and Sarah wearing a new gorgeous more grown-up dress and James looking like the official inheritor of Ben Franklin's printing company, except with a shirt a little more open a the collar than his mentor's? LOL
If you didn't ship these two, were you actually paying attention in your middle school American history class?
America turns 250 today and we're memorializing the show that taught pre-teen me important lessons about the American Revolution (that ran way deeper than 'ra-ra 'merica'), journalistic integrity, and how to ship blorbos š
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i just donāt get it. where are all the women. where are all the women in your fanfictions. are they all out of town? did they all go on vacation together? do they all have a dentist appointment at the same time?
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