#having written down most of the plot for this fic helps a ton for whipping out the chapters!!

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Villain AU - Deadlock, Part 3

Part 1 || Part 2 ||

Shorter chapter! Trying not to spend too much time on them :) I just want to go wild, ya know? Write some stupid shit!!! I'm having fun with this, so that's that 👏

She wasn't a nobody, he could at least give her that!

When going through her computer, he did find several emails, one of them consisting of an invitation to a party on this coming weekend - on top of a building close to where the 7th Avenue and Broadway were crossing. It seemed to be a social event for influencial people, may they be good or bad names. This would be the perfect opportunity for the broker to extend her name and services to some higher crowds! Donnie admired the hustle and entrepreneurship, but he knew that if she wasn't stopped nor steered, she could be quite a force to be reckoned with.

He disclosed his plan to his brothers, wanting to go meet her at that event. It was simple; take her aside for some talks, persuade her to hand over the information about the Foot investors, then recruit her for her services.

"Yeah, but do we have money?" questionned Mikey. "If that's what she does for work, we can't just have her empty her pockets for our cause. That's not fair."

"Although I'm not too keen on this whole situation, Mikey has a point," added Leonardo. "We have nothing."

Donnie sighed, knowing he couldn't keep his funds a secret anymore.

"You guys have nothing, I do."

"Watchu mean 'I do'??" questionned Raph with a frown.

The tall terrapin did unenthusiastical jazz hands: "Freelance work." He then brought a holo screen of his account. "I actually need to get some money back in ... that girl ain't cheap."

"Dude, fuck that, buy us pizza instead!" joked Mikey.

***

Vee wasn't usually enthusiast about social events, but she couldn't deny that this would be the perfect opportunity to seek out new clients and mingle around for some juicy gossip and any kind of information. She usually didn't mind dressing up for parties, her black dress simple enough and her gold necklaces a simple addition, but something about people's gazes during the evening made her wish she had dressed up more...

After conversing with points of interests, the woman decided to take a drink aside and headed towards a part of the rooftop that was more secluded. The much needed peace calmed Vee down, sipping her glass of wine as she looked over the city's lights and traffic down below.

"That's not very clever, you know?"

Vee was on high alert as she heard a voice echoing from the shadows to her left. Turning around, she finally spotted a form coming out and making its way towards her; none other than that turtle man she had seen at that Foot tower. She didn't say a word, slowly backing up as he kept coming closer.

"That tattoo of yours on your chest," he continued, still getting closer. "I clearly saw it that night, and now you're displaying it as well this evening. Quite recognizable, to be honest."

"How did you find me? What do you want?"

Vee finally bumped against a railing, feeling New York's hot breeze caress her upper back and hair. The tall mutant was now so close, she somehow considered jumping off the balcony … if only it wasn't way high above ground. The male finally got her calling card into view, an amused look on his face.

"I'd say you did good work with that for the average joe, but I was still able to get that fake tracer to link me back to its root. I'm suspecting you finally noticed my presence in your stuff last night, judging how quick I lost connection. Let me guess, you disconnected your router?"

Vee quickly got the card out of his hands, annoyed.

"Okay, you answered my 'how did you find me' question, now answer my next one."

One of his hands rested at the railing, right beside her, slightly towering the woman. He wanted to come out as intimidating, somehow, but he could also not dismiss his curiosity.

"… I wanna know who you are exactly. What's your deal?"

Vee left a quick chortle: "As if I'm going to lay all my information bare to you-"

"You seem quite capable with technology," he continued. "I'm just wondering why you're using it that way. … Selling information to the highest bidder can be a dangerous game."

Vee played her flirting card, taking advantage of the proximity. She slowly fiddled with his mask's tails, sneakily displaying herself in an enticing way.

"Money talks, turtle," she answered smoothly. "Taking leaps is what makes the world go 'round, I'm sure you know that. I do what I have to do in order to survive in here."

The mutant slightly gulped, taking a second to enjoy the view. He finally straighthened his stance, taking her hand so he could stop her motions at his tails.

"Until you land the wrong information into the wrong client's hands," he said. "… You don't have to play this kind of russian roulette. Your work could have way more worth in authority's hands."

The human puffed a quiet laugh, getting her hand out of his hold.

"I know how it goes, turtle. The police is slow and getting any freelance investigation their way can actually damage their precious work. They barely get anything done in reasonable delays. Meanwhile, my way is efficient for anyone who needs the information. I don't care where it falls – as long as I get paid, that's the only worth I'm looking for."

"Then why did you ask information about project Renaissance?"

Vee's eyes squinted: "... HookedOnCoffee?" she asked.

"You bet, smooth criminal," winked the terrapin. "I wanted to test you. I was there when you did your little escapade to the police station; you seem full of surprises."

Her gaze was now frowning, looking the mutant up and down.

"... H- How were you there and I didn't see you? You're a freakin' giant turtle!"

She stopped herself and the other before the subject was continued.

"You know what? Pause. ... I'm usually pretty alert to my surroundings when out and about, and the only trace I leave from time to time is my calling card, either for shits an' giggles, or for potential new clients. The fact that you found me and were able to hack into my computer in very little time is just ... " She next poked at his plastron with each words: "You're. Being. A. Creep. Right. Now!"

She next took a long sip of her wine, her eyes wandering and next noticing the shapes of three other turtles hanging and waiting on another rooftop.

"Great," she sighed, vaguely gesturing in their direction. "The whole cavalry's here..."

"You don't have to be freaked out," said the terrapin next. "We're here because we want your help."

Vee paused, half a smile coming to her lips.

"Let me guess.... you want the info I took from you guys at that Foot tower?"

"Primarly, yes, but ultimately I believe that your expertise could be beneficial to our cause."

"Which is?"

"Bringing the Foot clan down, once and for all."

That brought a laughter out of the woman, confusing the other for a moment.

"You do realize that I sometimes steal from them? They're often my main bread and butter," confessed Vee. "And if they were to vanish, another organization is gonna take their place. I'm talking about the Purple Dragons, mainly. I could be generous and think of other clans, but that'd be too generous."

"And you're okay with having potential crimes on the conscience when completing work that involves the Foot?" questionned the male, sourly.

"C'est la vie!'' shrugged the human. "Eat or be eaten. I do whatever I have to do and I'm okay with that. ... Why should I care about others when all they've done to me for the most part is spit on me?"

That seemed to garner some sympathy from the turtle, his traits now softer.

"Look... I'm not here to threathen you out of your work," he started, calmly. "I believe you have great potential and it'd be a shame to have yourself get in trouble because of some poor choices."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know! I know... But I want you to consider being a better person in this."

Vee was silent for a moment, contemplating his words.

"... I'll think about it," she finally said, ligthly swirling her wine in a thoughtful manner.

"Good! If you ever have an answer, you know where you can find me." He next extended his hand for her to shake. "Name's Donatello, by the way."

Vee considered the gesture for a moment, ultimately bringing her hand into his. The size difference caught her off guard for a split second.

"Call me Vee," she replied. "... And I must warn you, monsieur Donatello; do not log into my computer again, or else I'll find you and it won't be pretty."

"I'll respect that warning," smiled the terrapin.

The woman next handed her glass to the mutant, starting to make her way back to the party.

"Enjoy the wine, I'm guessing you need it too."

Indeed he did, taking a long swig of the drink and then watching Vee walk away. He could still feel the ghost of her hand in his...

***

Vee spent the next few days carefully combing through the Renaissance project's files. One detail she did find interesting was in regard to that alien substance - nicknamed the "green ooze" - that was injected into four turtles and one rat subjects. Basic tests had been conducted, but it had never been done to full extents, considering that the lab burned down and the chemical had been lost. Final reports indicated that traces of the ooze could be found running through the animals' veins, meaning now that retrieving the substance could be possible...

Now knowing that this Donatello guy potentially had eyes on her online activities, she proceeded to create a thread all while making sure that the HookedOnCoffee account was blocked. She silently thanked the moderators for not including an activity feed for any created accounts, allowing for things to escape possible radars or lurkers.

Her post was clear and simple:

Potential retrieval of the lost ooze from Project Renaissance.

Possibility of getting my hands of some of the alien substance lost in the Sacks facility fire. Uses may range from medical to superhuman enhancements. Starting bids at 1 million. Serious offers only.

And so the wait started. Or at least it would give her enough time to actually figure out how to obtain such ooze in the first place....

Thinking back at Donatello's offer, that seemed like her only point of entry for such an opportunity. Sure, she couldn't just come out of nowhere and whip out a needle and a vial to get some blood out of him. ... She would need to build trust with the mutant - something that seemed a bit far fetched at the moment, considering that he might mostly want a professional relationship first and foremost.

She allowed some time to pass by, completing chores around her appartment and getting some food prepared. It was only when she got back to her desk with a quick dinner plate that she froze at the thread she had created.

Last offer was going up as high as 10 millions...

Seeing that no one had outbided that for some time, she closed the deal, getting in contact with the winner.

smooth_criminal: You better not be talking shit for offering such a large amount of money. FuttoGyangu: My boss is very interested by what you are offering. smooth_criminal: I do not have a current ETA on the retrieval. I need to confirm some details before starting the operation. FuttoGyangu: To confirm our interest, we will forward you 500,000$. Keep us updated.

Vee blanked for a moment. That couldn't be real...

FuttoGyangu: We have heard of your excellent work. Do not disappoint us.

She indeed received the amount, accepting it with a wide-eyed stare. ... ... Throwing herself out of her chair, she gleefully danced and stimmed around, celebrating this huge hit! Her head was spinning, her heart beating fast and hard. She couldn't back away now, she didn't want to disappoint indeed!

Swinging back into her chair, she completely disregarded her food, instead opening back her conversation with HookedOnCoffee. She shook her hands a little before writing, wanting to calm her nerves and not write any gibberish.

smooth_criminal: What's up. Let's meet up and discuss.

She could give him the Foot info, anything he wanted! Who cares!! As long as she could get into his good graces, that could only get her closer to her goal and that sweet, sweet money.

HookedOnCoffee: I'm guessing you finally considered my offer? smooth_criminal: Sure thing, pal. I'll be a good girl, I promise ;)

She snickered at her response.

HookedOnCoffee: I'll disregard the play on words :D ... State a place and time of your choice, I'll be there. smooth_criminal: I suspect you don't want to be seen much. I'll send you the address of a rooftop I like to hang out to. I'm free tomorrow night. smooth_criminal: I'll also bring some coffees and that delicious data you requested~ Gotta start on the right foot - unless you want to bring it down once and for all as well.

God she felt like such a smartass, quoting him from that evening at that party.

HookedOnCoffee: Ain't you a sweetheart... Forward me the address and I'll meet you there. HookedOnCoffee: And don't worry, I'll be alone.

Happily punching in the address and sending it his way, she next swiveled her chair around with a cheerful laughter. She couldn't deny being on such a high - yet the realization that she had now to prepare for this delicate mission brought her celebration to a stop.

Serious once again, she approached her computer, then opening a new web browser screen and shopping around for blood extraction equipment...

((Part 4))

[ashenpages]

Current Fic Ideas & Emoji Voting Key

Quick disclaimer that I’m a romance writer in all aspects of the term, so most of my fics will contain mature content. Engage at your own risk, you know the rules, you’re responsible for curating your own experience of the internet, blah blah blah. This post serves as a current mock up of fic ideas I’m either actively working on or considering working on next. You can drop me an ask about any of them, or just vote via the emoji combo I’ve assigned them.

Voting lets me know you’re excited about an idea and makes it more likely I’ll actually work on it. You can vote anytime, there’re no deadlines or winner announcements, just me gauging your interest by what I see in my ask box most often.

You can also ask me about the original stuff I’m working on currently. The current WIPs are Medusa centric and the emoji for them is: 🐍

- Lupin: 🤑🤠💍  These are all oneshot ideas, between 5-15K each. If you want to vote for a specific idea, send me the emojis and the number of the idea. 

Lupin, Jigen, and Goemon always play rock-paper-scissors after a big heist to decide who’ll give the group a striptease, and who will get showered with money. Based on a piece of fanart that is basically this sequence of events in a 4koma (except in their version Jigen loses and in mine, it’s Goemon). (written, just needs editing)

Zenigata cuffs Lupin four times, and Lupin steals his heart. Very NSFW conclusion. Zenigata is the most caring lover you’ll ever find. Lupin is as thirsty as usual and twice as intense. (written, just needs editing)

Jigen protects Lupin from poison darts during a treasure hunt in an Aztec temple, and Lupin nurses him back to help--forcibly, since Jigen is a horrible patient. Born from my desire to spoil Jigen and talk about what ridiculous domestic husbands these two are. (WIP)

Born from the idea that Goemon and Zenigata probably couldn’t be an item, my brain decided to come up with how I could write for them. Goemon’s teaching an ikebana class as part of his training, and Zenigata shows up as a student on forced recreational leave for his health from the ICPO. Zenigata wins the samurai’s heart through flowers. But what happens when Lupin and Jigen find out? (Only good sexy things, I promise. These beans are in a healthy polycule--be gay, do crimes)

Trans!Lupin and Trans!Jigen premise: Jigen cares for Lupin after the master thief has top surgery, since Jigen has Been There and Done That. Caring, sweet, and a little sexy. Lupin is a much better patient than Jigen.

- Sonic Vampire Novelist Coffee Shop AU: 📚☕💐 

Shadow is an immortal vampire who has seen the world change for the worse too many times. These days it feels like he only lives for his coffee dates with Rouge, another immortal who loves each new era they encounter, warts and all. He has to admit that the book series she got him into speaks to him, at least. If someone in this era can understand him without meeting him, it can’t all be bad. But he hardly expected the goofy blue barista at the new coffee place to understand him the way those books do.

This is a novel length romcom romp with some big feelings about what it means to watch as things change, grow, and die. Expect lots of Big gothic feelings from this one, emotionally charged kissing, and overly-adoring sex. But also expect shenanigans from everyone in the coffee shop, which include Rouge, Amy, Tails, Knuckles, Cream, and more.

- Sonic Blazamy: 💖🌸💎

Amy Rose has been in love with Sonic for a while.

Or has she?

When the Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow, and Silver are trapped as the fuel sources for Doctor Eggman’s newest evil scheme, Amy teams up with Blaze, Rouge, and Cream to save them. With Sonic out of the picture and Amy fulfilling his role, was she ever really in love with him? Or did she just want to be like him?

This is a novel length epic romance with lots of competent women and lots of romantic Blazamy content. Expect flowery hopes and dreams, badass self-actualization, and glancing hand touches that give way to cuddly and sweet sex.

- Persona 5: 🗡🍛☕

After bringing down the Metaverse twice, Ryuji didn’t think graduating high school and figuring out what to do with his life would be so hard. Akira’s back in town, and the gang’s more-or-less all in Tokyo, but everyone else seems to have a plan while Ryuji just floats. How’s he supposed to change the world when he’s not a phantom thief anymore?

This is a novel length fic that addresses how powerless one can feel being just one person in the face of all the corrupted systems and bigotry the world has to offer. It’s about holding on to what you believe in, working through the doubt, and fighting your way to a better tomorrow with the power you do have. The whole gang is queer, featured relationships being Mako x Ann, Ryuji x Akira, Futaba & Yusuke as platonic life partners. Akira is polyamorous and omnisexual, Futaba’s asexual and aromantic while Yusuke is demisexual and very romantic, Makoto’s a lesbian, Ann and Ryuji are bi, and Haru’s pansexual, demisexual, and aromantic. They’re one giant band of queer Phantom Thieves, and even if they’re not really doing the Metaverse thing anymore, they’re still gonna save the world!

Also, I’m gonna make Makoto not a cop. That super didn’t age well. Zenkichi and his boss can work on making them better/abolishing them for other better organizations.

- Hades Game: ❤️‍🔥💀

Oneshot. I just really need to elaborate on the threesome you can have with them in-game, okay? Healthy and canon poly relationships are so few and far between, so often I have to do a ton of groundwork to explain why it’s working in the fic, but NOT WITH THESE KIDS!

Get ready for Meg helping Zag and Than be better at expressing their feelings, lots of kissing, and probably pegging.

- Castlevania Animation Trevor/Sypha/Alucard: 🧛🏰🛌 

Castlevania gave Alucard a threesome last season, and I just really need S4 to give me him being taken care of by his partners. They’re probably not going to give it to me, so I’ll need to do it myself. This is just an everybody loves Alucard oneshot, with the gang’s signature banter (to an extent), Sypha being sexy, and Trever being remarkably sincere. This fic is gonna feel like that Ann Hathaway picture with Trevor kissing Alucard and Sypha holding the end of Trevor’s whip while she leans her head on Alucard’s shoulder adoringly.

- Devil May Cry Nico/Lady/Trish: 💋✨😈 

Nico’s gay, okay? Like really, really gay. And Lady’s bi and not into men who make her pay bills, but very into women who make amazing guns for her and demonesses with hearts who fight by her side. Trish is ace, but loves people and is pretty attached to Lady at this point. Plus it’s cute when Lady blushes and says nice things like they’re insults. I don’t have super solid ideas for them yet, and I envision these more like a polycule where Lady’s with Nico and with Trish but they’re not with each other more than seeing it as a threesome, but who knows what might happen. This is probably 1-2 oneshots depending on ideas, but might turn into a series of oneshots if people are interested (or I can’t control myself and inspiration strikes).

- Post FMA:B Blind Roy & No Alchemy Ed: 👀👑🙏

This is actually an old novel-length fic I wrote ages ago and didn’t post that didn’t turn out well because I was new to writing sex when I first wrote it. The plot is good, and is all about Roy learning to work with his blindness to reclaim his ambition of being Fuhrer and changing the system to something that actually cares for its people. He and Ed reconnect, fall into bed, and both set about working through their respective traumas about being “useless” having lost their sight/alchemy. They go to Xing as an ambassadorial party to offer Amestris’s collaboration on Al and May’s Alkahestry experiments--and uncover a plot that might threaten both kingdoms.

- Age of Calamity continuity Mipha x Revali: 🦚🐟💘

The first time Revali noticed Mipha, it was in the heat of battle. She stole his mark, taking them down with a flurry of quick blows from her spear. Violence rained from her like water--and then she healed him on her way to her next battle. No questions, no conditions, just pure kindness. The usual need to measure himself against those around him was quiet in her wake. And Revali couldn’t understand it. But how to get to know more about her? A fish and bird may fall in love, but where would they live?

This fic could be a oneshot or novel length depending on how far down the hole I fall. I need it to cover time, but it could be done in linked vignettes or with actually covering events in detail. I may elect to do a oneshot just to get it done and out of my system faster. So much fic to write, so little time.

Expect trans!Revali, polyamorous Zoras, scary competent Mipha, songbird Revali, love confessions that are made up entirely of berating Link for not loving Mipha the way she wants him to, and breaking these characters a little outside of their assigned roles in BotW and Age of Calamity. Background Link x Zelda, and Urbosa x Zelda’s Mom.

- Epic desert romance about Urbosa and Zelda’s mom: 🏜🏝⚡

I just think Urbosa should kiss women and Zelda’s mom should get more development and maybe a name or something. Also, lightning imagery/metaphors/play.

It also went way over my head that Riju wasn’t Urbosa’s daughter the first time I played BotW, so now I want to write about the Gerudo queen who refused to produce an heir. The Gerudo are fascinating and have a very interesting cutlure, but I think it could be examined from a nonbinary perspective that rejected pregnancy and wanting to find a husband. Not in like a hateful way, but in a way that examines if that’s really right for everyone. There’s that shop in town that sells Voe armor, after all. Maybe finding a husband and having children isn’t something you have to do if you don’t want to. And Urbosa really doesn’t want to.

[mcwriting]

starstruck (1)

Before anyone says ANYTHING, this is absolutely 100% no doubt about it inspired by @insane-less “Not a fan” because I absolutely loved the chapters that were written and Starstruck is one my favorite standalone DCOMs. Standalone, of course, meaning a film with no sequels and not based off a TV show.

There will obviously be some similarities to not a fan just because they’re based off of the same film, but I’m trying to keep it pretty original. I haven’t read not a fan in a while and did not while I was writing this to keep it authentic, though I did read over the starstruck plot a little bit.

Going to be multi part. I realized about halfway through writing that it was almost 4k words and I hate reading things that long in one sitting, plus I still have to finish it lol. As of now, it is half-written so this should be a quick release story. AND I’ll actually try to finish it (unlike a flight to remember rip)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

                                               Important info:

Fandom: Tommo Holland 

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2185 (oof)

Warnings: some “bad” words. Very mild. Mention of an injury.

Rating: K+ now, maybe T later. Haven’t decided.

Background: um well it’s based on Starstruck (2010) and it's a Tom holland fic so yeah. 

B/f/n: your best friend’s name 

                              __________________________________

“I’m not going with you to see Tom Holland, and that’s final!” You exclaim to your annoyingly persistent best friend.

“Come on, y/n! I mean, what can you even have against him?” She pleads.

“Well for starters he looks like he’s 12, he’s not that good at acting, and he just rubs me the wrong way. I don’t know how to explain it,” you state.

“Uh first, he’s 22 and absolutely gorgeous, second, when have you even seen one of his movies, and third, he’s a great guy! Not to mention he’s a trained dancer like you!”

“Just because he happens to dance doesn’t mean I’m gonna suddenly fall in love with him. Plus, how do you know I’m not going out tomorrow?”

“Y/n, there’s literally no way you’re going out because I’m the only person you go to parties with,” b/f/n said.

“Okay fine, but give me one good, solid reason I should even consider going to this Spider-Man premiere,” you say, arms folded.

“Well it’s not like Tom’s the only star that’ll be there,” she explained, “Zendaya will be walking, too.”

You perked up a little bit and b/f/n waggled her eyebrows at you.

“Fine, I’ll go. But only for Zendaya.”

                             __________________________________

“B/f/n it’s like a million degrees out here!” you complained. Even though you wore the shortest shorts you owned and pulled back your hair, the LA heat on top of the millions of teenage girls squished up around you was making you uncomfortable.

The two of you had been able to get there early enough to be right in the front at the barriers, giving you a clear view of the action.

ugh.

While your friend rambled on about Tom and the movie and her excitement, you pulled out your phone and mumbled, “Tell me when Zendaya comes out here.”

You had tons of DM’s on instagram, solely from the fact that b/f/n had posted a video on her story (where you tastefully lowered your sunglasses at the camera before flipping it off) and people couldn’t help but comment how “lucky” you were and how you should be “excited.”

Finally, the time came where the cast and crew began walking, and you stood apathetically, only cheering and taking pictures when Zendaya came out. You even put your sunglasses on top of your head to see her in the plain light.

After her colleagues came to the theatre, a gorgeous Audi E-tron concept convertible came down the road slowly, cheers picking up as you realized that Tom Holland was riding in the back with a blonde guy you indicated to be named Harrison from b/f/n’s screaming. 

Seeing his features in person, you were still… underwhelmed. Sure you could see why people thought he was attractive, but he was just another guy. You didn’t cheer as he came up, waving to the crowd.

He turned to your side to wave when his eyes met yours. Undoubtedly, his smile faltered for a second before picking back up again, brighter than before. You leaned into your best friend and asked,

“Did you see that?” in an almost offended tone. Who was he to look at you like that? The only reply you received was more screaming and “HE LOOKED OVER HERE CAN YOU BELIEVE!!?!” to which you rolled your eyes.

He eyes met yours again and you looked away, annoyed that he seemed to be singling you out of all the people there.

After exiting the car, he ran down the line shaking hands and taking a few pictures. Next thing you knew, he was taking b/f/n’s phone to have a selfie. She threw an arm around your shoulder and exclaimed,

“Get in, y/n!”

You subconsciously smiled and with that he headed towards his cast, saying,

“Make sure to tag me in that!” as he left.

“I swear if you even think about posting that…” you threatened, earning a smug smile from the friend you were now prepared to disown.

                             __________________________________

Your instagram was blowing up as you headed to the dance studio. Unfortunately for you, the person you still chose to call best friend had posted the photo after all, tagging you and Tom in the selfie. It had been seen and reposted by fan accounts, and many of those fans were following and commenting and messaging you about it.

In your opinion, the picture sucked. Not because it was a bad picture or that you looked terrible.

The problem was that you looked great. 

It was somehow one of the most flattering pictures anyone had ever taken of you and it angered you to think it gave an impression that you even cared in the slightest about Tom Holland.

As you stared at it longer, you wished you had either covered your face or gone without smiling. SOMETHING to show how little you cared.

You finally arrived and went to a private studio, deciding to let dance drown out the thoughts and help you channel your frustration.

You warmed up and then decided to practice an emotional piece you previously choreographed for an upcoming show. As you danced, stress flowed out in the form of tears as raw emotion emitted from your movements. 

You finished the dance exhausted yet glad that you had been able to channel everything into it, until you heard a male voice quietly say,

“Wow.”

Your head whipped around and a flash of anger hit when your eyes once again met those of Tom Holland’s as he stood in the doorway. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked coldly, mad that the seeming bane of your existence had just watched you pour out your heart on the dance floor, crying and sweaty and vulnerable.

“I, uh, well… I was invited to tour the studio and happened to see you in here, and you were incredible, breathtaking, really. You’re the girl from the premiere, y/n?”

“Thanks but this was private. And why do you care who I am? I was only at the premiere because my friend forced me to go.”

He stepped forward.

“I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any problems. I figured you were a fan but I guess I misjudged…”

“Look man,” you began walking backwards towards your bag, “I was there for Zendaya and my friend. Nothing against you, but I'm just not one of your little teenage girl obsessors. Now if you’ll excuse m-”

And that's when you slipped and hit the floor. The wind was knocked out of you and your head had banged onto the ground, pain pulsing around the area.

“Woah, darling, are you alright?” Tom asked, rushing to kneel by your side.

“Don’t call me darling, and help me get to a doctors office.”

                             __________________________________

“Well, Ms. y/l/n, looks like you don’t have a concussion, but make sure to rest up for a couple days and take some painkillers and you’ll be in ship-shape,” the ER doctor informed you. 

You went to the check-out desk and walked around to waiting area, where a few people were pointing and whispering at Tom, who was nervously bouncing his knee. He stood up when he saw you.

“Y/n! What did they sa-”

“Just come with me spider boy. I’ll tell you while you drive me home,” you said, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him out the door.

                             __________________________________

“Shit,” Tom exclaimed under his breath after a few moments of awkward silence. 

“Get down, now,” he commanded.

“Excuse me?”

“Get. Down. We’re being followed”

You ducked down before whisper-yelling a “what are you talking about? Are you insane?”

He asked what to do since it was obvious that whoever was behind you wasn’t planning on going away any time soon. An idea popped into your head.

“Do you trust me?” You pleaded, almost kind and soft for the first time to him, “I might have an idea.”

“Anything to get us out of this.”

You and Tom threw some sunglasses on and you made a makeshift headscarf with a ballet skirt for yourself. You had him drive near your neighborhood in circles for a bit when the car finally passed you, trying to get pictures to sell.

You ducked and Tom sped off onto a side street towards your house. Thankfully, your parents had recently installed garage doors that connected to your phone, and your car was in the shop, so Tom was able to pull into your spot and you shut the door behind him.

“That was close,” he breathed, putting a hand on his heart, and you too felt your pulse racing.

“Now, we wait,” you said. 

“Alright, do you want to go in so you can rest? You look exhausted.”

“NO. I mean, uh, we can’t. My best friend is supposed to be coming over today and she’s the one who’s like, obsessed with you.”

“Can’t you cancel? You almost got a concussion after all.” 

“I guess, but my parents might not be happy knowing a random guy is in their house. How about I check the security cameras and see if the coast is clear?”

It wasn’t. Sitting across the street was the same car from earlier, one that definitely did not belong to your street, either. 

After sitting uncomfortably in the car for a half hour, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Let’s just go inside, but don’t make a big deal out of it.”

                             __________________________________

You yelled to your parents that a friend was staying the night as you snuck Tom up the stairs to your room.

“Staying the night?” he asked in his stupidly attractive accent as soon as you shut the door.

“Look, I hate this as much as you, but that pap or whoever he is probably won’t be leaving any time today. Since I’m being nice, I figured you could sleep on the floor or something. Don’t worry, I’ll find you blankets later.”

You sat on the foot of your bed and texted b/f/n, explaining that something had come up with dance and there was no way you could hang out. After a few minutes, you noticed that Tom hadn’t moved from standing by your door, and was quietly scanning the room.

“Are you gonna, like, sit down? You’re kinda making me nervous,” you stated awkwardly, glancing to the side.

“Oh, well, I didn’t want to be in the way and I know you don’t really want me here so I thought I’d stay over here. I’m fine, really.”

You rolled your eyes and patted the mattress next to you.

“Take a seat, bro. It’s gonna be a long night.”

                             __________________________________

You carefully carried some cokes and two plates of pizza into the room, where Tom was now seated comfortably on your bed. You had had the time to shower and change into clean clothes in the hour between coming home and dinner. He pocketed his phone and smiled upon seeing you.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, grabbing a plate and helping you set down the drinks.

“My parents were asking who was up here with me. I just told them you were a friend from dance and very shy.”

He chuckled and took a bite.

“Can I ask something?” You nodded. “Why exactly were you at the premiere the other day?”

You sighed and set down your pizza, explaining how b/f/n had coaxed you into coming.

“In all honesty, I probably would have said yes no matter what, I mean she’s my best friend after all, but I may have reconsidered if I knew this would be the outcome,” you laughed.

“Oh come on, you know you love me,” he joked back, prompting a look of slight disgust, another of many eye rolls, and a slight shove on the arm.

You continued talking well into the night, him explaining his story and you telling of your own life and aspirations. At some point you both lied back on the bed to continue talking and finally succumbed to exhaustion well into the early morning.

                             __________________________________

Sunlight streamed into your open curtains, blinding you as you awoke. You were confused as to why you weren’t underneath the covers and rolled over to find a famous person asleep on your bed. 

Your eyes widened and you moved to scoot out of the bed when he rolled over and inadvertently threw an arm over your side. Stuck under his muscular limb, you stayed still and closed your eyes, hoping he would eventually let go or wake up.

The faint remains of his cologne wafted to your nose and you couldn’t help but breathe it in. You relaxed further into his grip and stayed comfortable until you heard a buzz on the table next to you.

You decided to ignore it until it happened two more times. Finally, you decided to wiggle out of Tom’s grip and succeeded without waking him. You picked up the cell and noticed it was 10 a.m. and all three texts were from b/f/n.

                             __________________________________

Edited A/N: Omg I posted this once before then tried to edit my tags on mobile and it deleted EVERYTHING! Thank the Lord because I have the whole fic saved in my google drive (something I’ve never done until this fic) and I’m so glad it is. 

Anyways, there’s a part 2 linked at the top and part 3 is coming soon. Message me or ask to be in my tag list for this fic

[chyrstis]

Writer Asks: Any Prime Number

This took me a bit longer than anticipated, but thank you a ton for the questions! They’ve been a lot of fun to consider.

2.    Are you a pantser or plotter?

I’m probably a 60-70% pantser vs. plotter, because for every story I write it to be able to get to a certain scene or interaction. The rest can fluctuate wildly, which does give me some great flexibility when it comes to setting events up, but I’ve written myself into corners before, and better planning would’ve nipped that in the bud.

3.    Computer or pen and paper?

I used to have notebooks full of written stuff back in high school, but once college hit I stuck to my computer. The downside to this is that plotting on the go can be tough if you need to reference anything, but as soon as I’m back at home I try to jot anything down. A blank page of paper can be just as intimidating as a blinking cursor, though.

5.    How much writing do you get done on an averageday? 

It fluctuates wildly, sometimes being a handful of words forced through a block, or upwards of thousands if I’m lucky. Lately, I’m been pretty fortunate to jot down at least 300-500 words a day, though this is sometimes spread through multiple ideas. The spread focus might be working in my favor, but this isn’t helping me to get much finished!

7.    Standalone or series? 

While one-shots are fun, series are the real draw for me. Now, the organization and planning can be a headache, but I love seeing how things can shift and develop, even if things are written out of sequence.

This does mean that I do have to reread a lot of my past works to make sure that they work in sequence, so…this can be both good and bad, but for making sure character voices stick and are consistent (and that I don’t ruin my own internal timeline), it works.

11.  Booksand/or authors who influenced you the most

Answered here!

13.  Describeyour writing process from idea to polished 

I’ll start with the scene that’s the most solid in my mind, or a conversation, and draft that first. If I can find a solid starting point I can focus on that, or the next in sequence, and very rarely is a story written in order from start to finish. It always is a set of scenes that I’ll go through and connect one-by-one.

Then the editing starts. Descriptive details always pop up more here since I can be a bit thin with them on the first go-around, and if I’m lucky I can flesh out more conversations and underlying feelings/motvations as well.

The real fun part comes at the end. Titles. Titles and summaries. It’s not that big of a deal, but I always worry in the back of my mind whether I’ve shot myself in the foot with a bad blurb and unappealing title. Most of the time this is dead last, though there have been times before when the perfect ones have sprung up mid-draft.

17.  Whatwriting habits or rituals do you have?

Music is always a must, though I’ll make do without as long as I have something related to what I’m reading about going (playthroughs, without commentary if possible). I have a lap desk which I’ve been using on my couch, so I’ll whip that out too and just settle in for the long haul.

I also have a habit of writing later at night, which may honestly go a lot later than intended, 12 AM - onward, but I feel like I stress less over the perfect word choice at that time, and can kick back and take it easier.

19.  Howdo you keep yourself motivated?

Going back to the media that inspired me helps, and I’ll mess around with other things like playlists, OC questions, screencaps, pinterest boards, etc.

Feedback can be a huge thing though, and seeing any response to what I’ve written is such a huge boost it’ll carry me through the rest of the day.

29.  Favouritevillain

It’s tough to pick! I do love Maleficent, though, and any villain/anti-hero lady scientists are always entertaining to watch.

31.  Leastfavourite part of writing

Answered here! …But I’m going to go ahead and add titling and writing summaries as well.

37.  Firstsentence A snippet of your current WIP

“Hey.”

Hana’s eyelids fluttered, then closed.

“Hey!”

She felt a flick to her shin, and she tensed, sucking in abreath through her teeth. “Ow!”

When she opened her eyes, the woman crouching down besideher backed up, one hand tucked close to the pockets of her green overshirt, andthe other curled around a small knife.

41.  Anyadvice for new/beginning/young writers? 

Don’t dismiss an idea as stupid, trivial, or overdone. Give it a chance, and see what you can do with it. While two people may have the same idea, their execution and insights are never the same.

Also, try your hand at fic. Even if later on, you’re not sure about it, the characters you’ve made are yours and yours alone. They can find new life in any original worlds you make, and you can use the experience gained to try out your ideas.

43.  Whatdo you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?

Answered here!

47.  Bestway to procrastinate 

Baking shows. That and game playthroughs, if not just playing the games sin general. At least with the second I can get more info for writing, but the first only makes me want to bake delicious things.

[whatsupwhump]

Whump Bump of the Month:  Laws of Motion

(where the new, the slightly old, and really old fanfic gets bumped to your attention in broken down, comprehension reviews)

Whump Bump of the Month: Laws of Motion

Written by: pennflinn

Posted on Ao3: November 26th, 2017

(word count: 4,858)

Fandom: Flash (CW TV)

Ship: Barry Allen/Iris West

Summary: A collapsing building is just part of the job. Being buried beneath the rubble was never part of the bargain.

Obvious but obligatory warning: The following contains spoilers for the entirety of the aforementioned fan-fiction. It contains quotes and personal opinions, both done out of appreciation for the author’s time and efforts put into their work.

“Laws of Motion” written by @pennflinn was chosen for the b-lated January Whump Bump of the Month for it’s astounding ability to allure a heartfelt sense of loss of hope, struggle, pain and heroism in its such short word count.

@pennflinn is far from new to bringing her audiences in with little words, instead focusing on simplistic punches that wrap up her plots tighter than a shiny Christmas present. There’s no dragging alongside a prologue or introduction when starting this fic -- rather you’re immediately presented with the problem Team Flash and Barry Allen are faced with: a collapsing building.

As the narrative so wonderfully goes on to say, none of this is new for our characters. Iris makes a mental note that, albeit hesitate to call it routine, burning buildings and breaches in the space-time continuum were all coming to be the norm. Still, Pennflinn doesn’t fail to captivate a sense of urgency between characters, gut-punching usage of verbiage like “His groan turned into a drawn-out yell” and “She was staring at her phone, pale as a sheet” doing wonders to satisfy a whump itch.

Character Whumped:

Barry Allen

The Enjoyment of Whump!Barry:

Barry Allen is a unique character for whump, not in the sense of being a superhero -- of which a lot of fans like to gravity towards for the trope of “hero who can’t save themselves” -- but because he has superhealing and an intolerance to prolonged pain, poisons and medications. It’s the latter that really makes the Whump!Barry spark. Though your time torturing the fastest man alive is limited, it can be intense, brutal and bring a mental and/or emotional pain after.

Flavor of Whump:

Foreign object in the skin -- a building collapsed leaves Barry with a back full of tiny shards of glass.

Comforter of the hurt/comfort:

Primarily Iris West with a dash of Cisco Ramon and Caitlin Snow.

[ Laws of Motion ]

The story transcends similar to a constantly moving camera, capturing moments of time scattered throughout an otherwise routine and somewhat insignificant event in Team Flashes life. It’s even mentioned in narrative that after having his back broken, clearing the use of his legs leaves more than just Barry with a sigh of relief.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| Cisco broke into a shaky smile. "So, you've just had a building dropped on you. How do you feel?"

"Spectacular," Barry croaked. He was cut off from further comment by Caitlin tearing off his cowl and fitting him with her own oxygen mask.

"Does anything feel broken?" she asked, while simultaneously shining her penlight into his eyes. Iris didn't need the light to tell that he was definitely concussed. "Can you move your legs?"

It was always the worst case scenario, ever since the Zoom incident. And judging by the way he'd been hunched over that girl, tons and tons of metal pressing down—

Barry's face scrunched as he agonizingly bent one knee, then the other. He groaned as he let them drop back to the table, but he bent each of his arms up as well to prove his mobility. At least, what limited amount he had. |

The groundwork is laid down neatly and without hesitation as Caitlin goes on to explain what the readers already know, and are subsequently excited for.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| Tweezers already in hand, Caitlin felt around for one piece near Barry's shoulder blade. "I'm going to have to pull these out, Barry," she said, having learned over time to narrate her actions. Whether or not it helped with the pain itself, it at least seemed to help Barry in identifying the source of it. "Some of these are..." She moved lower, frowning at the soft flesh beneath Barry's ribs. "...they're buried pretty deep, and I'm afraid some may have splintered into smaller pieces under your skin. They're going to require a minor surgical procedure—"

Barry moaned, and Iris whipped her head toward Caitlin. "Surgery? Isn't that the kind of thing that local anesthetic is for?"

"Minor surgery. We can't use anesthetic," Caitlin said, her face drawn and tight and deliberately blind toward much of the world. "You know that."

"I don't want to," Barry said, shaking his head, half-delirious, the fingers on one arm clenching and unclenching on the sheets. Based on the look of it, Iris was pretty sure the other arm was broken. "Please. Don't. Not now, please." | 

The introduction of a Barry who doesn’t have the strength, mental or physical, to withstand the usual agony of healing his injuries is what makes this story so unique. Pennflinn goes on to spend time focusing on Barry’s struggle with the pain, his ability to hold it together deteriorating moment by moment.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| She pried the pieces from his upper back first, and quickly, so Iris and Cisco could plant their hands on Barry's shoulders and hold him down while he thrashed, screamed, begged, sobbed.  |

Credit where credit is due to a moment of weakness written sharply yet precisely as Pennflinn makes the decision to capture Barry’s pain in short, gut-punching words.

Comfort is later found in the source of Barry’s lightning rod, Iris West. After giving him as much time as she felt she could, she goes to find him in one of the bathrooms in the deepest part of STAR Labs.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| Barry was facing away from her, and even though he was in front of a mirror, he didn't see her—his head was bowed over the sink, his working hand planted on the side and shoulders hunched. The way his spine curved reminded Iris of how he'd looked when he'd been uncovered from the rubble. Arched over the little girl, bracing against whatever might bear down on them both, getting crushed beneath the weight of a building. A loose shirt covered the damage: the stitches, the layers of gauze, the deep red bruises, the cast that encased his shattered arm.

In the ten seconds Iris waited in the doorway, he didn't move an inch, not even when she gave a light knock. It was only when she stepped into the room itself, her heels too loud on the tile, that Barry stirred. She knew better than to touch him, especially not without warning, especially not now. The physical wounds on his back were one thing, but she knew from hard past experience that they were only part of the unconscious touch aversion in situations like these.

"Barry?" she whispered, venturing to break the ice that way instead.

At this, he lifted his head and met her eyes in the mirror.

The lower lids of his eyes were pink, and his whole face sagged. He met her gaze with desolation, misery, a pleading look that said, I don't want to do this anymore.

Without a word, Iris moved forward. She reached out a hand tentatively. He allowed her to place it on his shoulder, her touch light. His face didn't crumple, exactly, but it wilted deeper into defeat. His breath shuddered under her palm, and she softened. |

The clarity of imagery here is worth noting and while never caught properly on the show, I would pay to see this recreated by an artist. Iris’s ability to wordlessly comfort Barry in his weakest moments, free of any judgement or disgust, is beautifully written here.

It’s not long after that Barry disappears, seemingly stuck in his own head.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| He picked up on the fourth ring, just when Iris was beginning to wonder if he'd left his phone behind as well.

"Iris."

"Hey," she replied. All at once she was very aware that she had no idea what she intended to say. "I just woke up. Are you alright?"

"Taking a break." Barry's voice sizzled, popped, through the phone line. "Might be a couple days. Don't worry."

He hung up before Iris could confirm that she was worrying, despite anything he said to the contrary. She held the phone up to her ear still, listening to the dead air.

It was only later that she'd see the international charges tacked on to her phone bill, a twenty-second call at 5:45 in the morning. |

His return is met with doubt, capturing a side to the hero often not seen. The strong, brass, brave Flash is suddenly exposed in the presence of his loved one, stating his nearing approach to a breaking point.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| After the meta had been safely locked away, Barry sat alone for a long while in the recovery bay, elbows up on the cot, face buried in his hands.

"I can't do it," he'd said when Iris had sat beside him. Even under her light questioning, he hadn't said a word more, and eventually she'd let him be.

That evening in the apartment, Iris kept the evening news on low while Barry made dinner. It was part of her nightly routine, practically required given her choice of profession. Tonight, she tuned out most of the national news, the breaking stories, in favor of listening to Barry putter about the kitchen. Steam whistled from a pot, a knife thunked against a cutting board, a can opener ground dully against metal.

The latter part of the newscast, near the end of the broadcast, was what caught her attention. Not because of what they were saying, but by what they were showing. Images of the ruined apartment building, the few piles of rubble that still remained.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder to ensure that Barry was busy, she turned up the volume a few clicks.

"…still missing, following an evacuation by Vibe. Vibe has since ignored our request for comment. With us tonight we have a very special guest in the studio. Six-year-old Grace Parks was shielded from the falling building by the Flash, and she has a message for him tonight. Grace?"

Grace Parks, round-faced and pink-cheeked and so vibrantly alive that only a six-year-old could be, faced the camera. She wore an earnest expression as she studied the camera lens, no doubt never having anticipated appearing on the news.

"I just wanna say," she began in her squeaky voice, "that Flash told me I was gonna be okay and now I'm okay. And I hope he's okay, too. I miss him." She glanced furtively off to the side, as if looking for confirmation that she was doing well. When she turned back, the corners of her mouth were downturned slightly. "Flash, if you're listening, I miss you. Thank you for saving me. You're my hero. And I wanted to say that. Thank you."

The feed cut back to the two news anchors, one of which was nodding sympathetically. "No doubt we all feel the same as little Grace—"

Some sixth sense caused Iris to angle her face back, and she was shocked to find Barry standing behind the couch, fixated on the TV. She quickly punched the mute button on the remote. |

Barry’s struggle between his own physical well being and the well being of others is so well detailed in the story, if not profoundly stated in the scene that follows.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| Once, when they were kids, Iris had accidentally knocked over Barry's Lego Star Destroyer and sent hundreds of tiny pieces skittering across the floor. Through her tears, she'd apologized over and over, feeling she'd destroyed something precious, something that could never be put back together. But it can, Barry had told her. Staring at the seemingly infinite number of broken parts peppering the bedroom floor, Iris had asked How? And Barry had smiled reassuringly: One block at a time. |

The story concludes as Barry aka the Flash goes to spend his time rebuilding the building that collapsed, inspired by the little girl he saved and returning her home to her.

Favorite Aspects:

[ Laws of Motion ] holds a side of Barry Allen that I have yet to see in any other written works. It seizes a side of weakness to his character without over-saturating the emotions. The blip of tears, cries, struggle and agony are all believable if not as well executed as Grant Gustins performance of Barry Allen within the show.

With his friends and family lending support, as well as all of Central City, he moves forward past another physically demanding injury with the mere words of, “tell me where I can go next.", exquisitely if not perfectly capturing the true essence of the the Flash.

[caffeineivore]

On Review Etiquette

So, lately, I have been participating in @sailormoonreviewevent and it brings back some of my best and worst memories of fandoms, not just SM but fandoms in general, and the people who populate them. 

Background information: I’ve been around since dinosaurs still roamed the Earth and geocities sites with animated word-art headers and the like were still the norm. In the case of Sailor Moon as well as other fandoms in which I have participated, I seem to always end up in a peculiar sort of capacity-- on the one hand, I’d pretty much stick to a very small corner of the fandom wherein my ship and/or character preferences kept me mostly away from the vast majority of the riff-raff and the fandom politics, but maybe because I have an inherently bossy and super type-A personality, I’d still end up in some sort of organizational capacity. The whip-cracker, as it were, amidst a bunch of creative types. For instance, in Sailor Moon, I pretty much stuck exclusively with senshi/shitennou. I paid very little attention to fanfics not about senshi/shitennou, and don’t really know people outside of that group. However, for all that, I ended up organizing ficathon for a few years, as well as moderating a writing community and planning meet-ups between members. In this role, I get to see a lot of the nuts and bolts which go on behind the scenes, and, unfortunately, also have to play the bad guy in certain sticky situations, which brings me to the point of this post.

Now, as a fanfic writer myself, I can say definitively that reviews make the world go round. Much as we write for fun, and we write to please ourselves, there is nothing quite so uplifting and encouraging as a genuine, sincere, detailed positive review. You know the type-- the ones that tell you exactly what they liked the most about your fic, in such a way that shows that not only did they read it, but it truly had an impact on them-- maybe it made them reconsider a facet of a character they’d never considered before, or maybe it mentions their favourite lines, or maybe it subconsciously reassures the writer on some point or another which they were uncertain about. Obviously, these are like the gold standard of reviews, and somewhat rare and far between. However, you’ll also get a bunch of “omg i <3 this fic MOAR PLZ”, which is okay too. You’ll probably even get a few with constructive criticism, which may sting at the time, but if the reviewer 1. means well and 2. has a point, it’s definitely worth your time to take their words into account. 

However, then you get one of these other types of reviews:

1. “Why did you write about [character] and/or [ship] they suxxxx [other character/ship] IS SO MUCH BETTER!!!!!”

2. this fucking fic is dumb. you suck. die in a fire. flame flame flame flame flame. trollololol I have no life I live in my parents’ basement and wank over how hard I am even though I need to put people down behind a meaningless screen name to feel better about myself. Not in a million years would I have the balls to say this sort of thing to someone’s face, but on the internet I am a Grade A Certified Prime Asshole and proud of it. [guest review anonymous]

3. So yeah this fic is great and I know it’s marked complete but could you add another chapter? Perhaps with [very specific plot and character requirements to cater into my personal whims] plzkthxbai!

4. Ummm... so why are you writing [characters] in [AU setting] or [different version of canon-- manga/anime/pgsm/etc.]?? MY PREFERRED CANON IS BETTER. WHY CAN’T YOU DO WHAT I WANT YOU TO DO??

5. Update faster plz!!! I need the next chapter NOW!! Actually I needed it YESTERDAY!! WTF ARE YOU DOING WHY ARE YOU NOT WRITING?!?!!?!!

Annnnnnnnd... you count to ten, resisting the impulse to chuck the phone or computer out the window. Take a deep breath, count to ten again, backward this time, and remind yourself that this is just fanfic. Just fanfic. Fandom’s bound to have a few idiots. You want to reply to the reviewer: “Look can u not” but that would be validating them, making them more important than they should be. You tell yourself it’s just a troll, but nonetheless, it hurts. And when you pick up that fic again, you’ll probably remember that one review in the back of your mind, taunting, more vivid than a dozen “gr8 job hope to see more soon!”’s. 

And it’s sad. So I’m about to give everyone who has experienced this (which, in all likelihood, is everyone who has posted a fanfic in any fandom ever) a voice. A loud, stridently snarky one. 

Reviewers: CAN U NOT?? with the trolling????

Look, I’m so glad that you have the time and the means to sit around and chill and read fanfic. It’s a luxury that requires a lot of first world amenities that not everyone has, so kudos to you. But that means, also, that you have a lot of freedoms not afforded to everyone, such as, y’know, the ability to pick and choose what you decide to read and comment on. There will be fics about every possible permutation of character ships in a fandom. There will be fics in every genre, which run the gamut of writing skill from novice to expert. And pretty much every single fic site, be it something privately owned or some behemoth like ff.n or AO3, will separate their fics into categories by character, genre, length, rating, etc. etc. The internetz is a wonderful thing. You can pretty much find anything with a few clicks. Like you can literally probably search for “I want a fic featuring [character A] and [character B] in a high school AU with angsty undertones and make it a one-shot less than 5000 words because I am on lunch break”, and it will take only the minimal amount of effort to get exactly what you look for to fall into your lap.

We all have our fic preferences. We also all know what we do not like. So, let me ask, why the hell do people insist on not only reading but flaming stuff that they KNOW they’re not going to like?? I am a diehard senshi/shitennou shipper and manga is my preferred canon. I KNOW that I do not ship Rei/Yuuichirou for example, so I won’t go out of my way to read fics featuring them. I’m not crazy about fics which feature tons of violence or porn, or lots of OCs, and I tend to dislike fics which make light of serious issues such as self harm or drug abuse, and I draw a very hard line at rape and sexual assault, especially if it features characters below the age of consent. Like, serious, trigger warning, PTSD, nope nope nope nope at Planet Nope. Now, what do I do if I come across a fic featuring any of these things? 

I DON’T FUCKING READ IT. Really. That’s all there is to it. I scroll down onto the next thing. And in the event that, say, I accidentally clicked on something that I figure out isn’t my cup of tea, it does not take any sort of effort to click right back out. Why give yourself grief? But even more, why give the writer grief? Even if it’s totally not your thing, they put effort into it-- far more effort than you did, clicking on their work. THEY are into what they wrote. 

Now, once upon a time, when I was organizing one of the senshi/shitennou ficathons, one of the submissions happened to feature something that NOPED with me very hard. And as ficathon mistress, I had to read it. So I did. And then replied to the author that it was very well written but I could not review it for personal reasons. Then I sent it off to another moderator to read it and give them an actual review. And that is an extenuating circumstance. Most people would not ever be in the position to have to read a fic that they would otherwise not read, or say anything to the writer of said fic. Even in that circumstance, it is not hard to deal with it in a respectful manner. So, why the fuck would someone willingly and knowingly inflict something they know they’re not going to like on themselves and then punish someone else for it? That makes NO sense.

As far as harassing authors to follow your own niche or write more on a topic or story that they feel as though they’re done with? Dude, write your own fic. You have total control over only one person in this world: yourself. Sure, validating what a fanfic writer does is very nice and gratifying, but they are not trained monkeys there to do your bidding and perform for your personal amusement. Unless you’re paying them good cashy money (which, since it’s fanfic, you’re not), you don’t get to have a say in what they write, when they write it, where they post it (if anywhere), any of that. They are under no contractual obligation to cater in to you in any way. And furthermore, when you try to dictate to them what to write and how to write it, the message is this: I Know Better Than You. Do As I Say. You Don’t Know Shit. What You Do Is Not Good Enough For Me. What You Do Doesn’t Matter. The Only Thing That Matters Is What I Want. 

That’s nothing but a goddamn put-down. And when you put down someone who probably put in a whole lot of thought and effort into something which brings them no possible reward but personal satisfaction and maybe others’ enjoyment, it’s really kind of a sucker-punch. If, say, this was the type of interaction between a boyfriend and girlfriend-- the put-downs, the belittling, the dictating, the insults-- we’d all recoil and call it a toxic, abusive relationship. We’d tell the person receiving those comments to get out of there, to get help, to leave.

So, when you make those types of comments, that’s the message you’re sending that writer. Leave. Get out of here. Go away, for your own good, for your own sanity and health and happiness. 

Now think about it, as you’re scrolling through ff.n or ao3 or wherever, looking for that next undiscovered gem. Think about it, when someone shyly asks you to review their fic, or signs up for the first time for a fandom event such as a ficathon or a big bang or a secret santa exchange. Is that the message you want to give them? That they should leave and never look back?

Now think about it again, and remember when you first discovered fanfic, or your preferred fandom, and wrote your first fic. Maybe it was campy and featured every trope on the TV tropes page. Maybe it was a shameless Mary Sue. Maybe it was ridiculously OOC and featured eye-gougingly purple prose. Maybe it was riddled with typos. Maybe you, yourself, looking back at it now, shake your head at how you could’ve written such a monstrosity. But would you have stayed, I wonder, if nobody at all encouraged you? Countless writers fade into oblivion after one fic, or disappear forever, deleting their fics off the internet. Countless people get fed up with fandom and throw their hands up and dismiss it as a lost cause. These things are going to happen regardless, sure.

But why the hell would you encourage that?

[never-a-tale-of-more-poe]

New Fic - Sort of

Hey guys. This is one of my old fics I recently found. It was written a long time ago, but I tweaked it a bit. Let me know what you think! Should I continue or scrape it? In this fic, the girls are still in high school. Basically I’m borrowing the town and the characters. No A, no A-Team; Ali and Mona are friends with the girls, etc.

Title: All Things Wicked Fandom: Pretty Little Liars Rated: M Summary:  When a young woman is found brutally murdered, the residents of Rosewood, Pennsylvania are thrown into a panic as the hunt for her killer begins. But sometimes the truth can do more harm than good. Sometimes the truth is more terrifying. And once it’s out — there is no going back.

“Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” - Sir Walter Scott

Death is a fickle thing. Often times we fail to see what’s in front of our own face. Sometimes we don’t want to.

“We are here to mourn the loss of a beloved daughter, a cherished sister and an honored friend. She was taken from us far too soon and in such a tragic way. A beautiful life was stolen.”

The words were somber and sympathetic, mixing in with the choked sobs and muffled sniffles that echoed around the quiet room.

Aria reached out and laced her fingers through the girl’s next to her. A light squeeze, a gentle caress of her thumb against the smooth skin of the other’s palm. “Spencer...”

Spencer glanced over at Aria, shooting her a watery, shaky smile. Her eyes were filled with tears. Mascara ran down her pale cheeks but to Aria she’s still beautiful. “Aria...”

Aria wiped her girlfriend’s tears away with the tissue she’s had balled up in her hand. “You’ll get through this.”

Spencer shook her head. Her posture was rigid. “I doubt it.”

“You can,” Aria urges with a gentle smile.

“M-Maybe…”  Spencer’s voice cracked. “As long as I have you.”

Aria squeezed Spencer’s hand. The lights in the funeral home were bright enough to hurt her eyes, and she took a deep breath. “You’ll always have me.”

Age 12 - September 4th, Ink N' Things Bookstore, Rosewood, Pennsylvania 4:33PM

“Don’t take too long, Aria. We still have to unpack.” 
 “I won’t, Dad!”

Aria looped down an aisle and vanished from sight. Aria, her younger brother and their parents had moved to Rosewood earlier in the afternoon from Virginia and before they had even settled into their house, Aria had begged her father to take her to the local bookstore and he had eventually given in. Now, Aria was happily strolling around Rosewood’s tiny but homey bookstore. It smelled like coffee, pastries, and of course — books. Aria loved to read. If she could she’d live in a bookstore.

“Ten minutes, Aria!” Her dad shouted from somewhere in the store. He always had a loud voice and it irritated her.

“Okay!” Aria hollered back. She ducked into the Young Adults section. Maybe she’d pick up a nice horror book or a sappy romance. Both? Bright and colorful books jumped out at her. Some books were thick, with the promise of a good story and others were smaller, but the best things often came in small packages. The shortest book could hold the tale of the most wondrous adventures, whereas the longest book could be full of dull characters and bland plots.

Aria’s eyes flitted up to a book on the highest shelf — ‘The Witches: Salem, 1692.'

It was one of her favorites and her old copy had been dropped in the bathtub. Perfect! Her eyes swept down to scan the lower shelves, but she didn’t see any copies.

“Of course. Figures.” Aria sighed and placed one hand on the middle shelf and her feet on the bottom shelf. Then she pulled herself up and tried to grab the book, but only succeeded in pushing it back further. “Goddamn it…”

“What are you doing?”

Aria nearly toppled backwards. She whipped around fast; scared she'd gotten caught by an employee. But standing in front of her was a girl a few inches taller than herself. She had long, brunette hair that was braided neatly down her back. She was dressed in light blue skinny jeans and a beige-colored soft top. The white belt with a flower buckle she'd fastened around her stomach kept sliding down, and she had on matching beige flats. She was cute — very cute.

“I...was just trying to get a book off the top shelf,” Aria answered sheepishly.

“Oh. I can help you. Which book would you like?” she replied.

“The Witches,” Aria replied, shuffling to the side.

The other girl's lips split into a wide smile. “That's one of my favorites! Hang on.”

Aria watched as the girl stood on the end shelf and reached her arm up. Her shirt lifted up just slightly and Aria saw a faded, jagged scar on the girl's hip, in the shape of what looked like a jagged zigzag scar. But then she stepped down, and handed Aria her book.

“Thanks,” Aria said gratefully. “You didn't have to help me.”

“Oh, it's okay.” The taller girl pursed her pink lips, eyeing Aria up and down. “Are you and your family just passing through? I've never seen you around here before.”

“Oh, no,” Aria shook her head, her skull earrings swinging back and forth, “We just moved here today. I begged my Dad to bring me up here. " She paused, adding, "I'm Aria.” “I'm Spencer. Welcome to Rosewood. Did you guys get an apartment? A duplex?”

“Nope.” Aria's eyes dropped down Spencer's stomach again — she kept fiddling with her belt — “We bought a house. Both of my parents got teaching jobs here. Go figure.”

Spencer nodded. “Well, do you know your address yet? Maybe if it's not too far from my house we could carpool to school tomorrow. Are you going to Rosewood Day Academy?"

Aria beamed. She liked Spencer. She was nice. “Yeah! I am. I live at 7835, Kapsberry Street.”

Spencer blinked. “No way!” she gasped. “You guys bought the house right next to mine! I live at 7834, Kapsberry Street.”

“Really?” Aria grinned.

“Yeah!” Spencer grinned back.

“That's awesome!”

“Yeah, what are the odds?” Spencer’s eyes lifted up to Aria’s black-and-white checkered hat. She had decorated its rim with tons of colorful buttons. Some were slogans; others were humorous. Her gaze zeroed on a pink and blue 'Bitch!' button and she smirked.

Aria also had a yellow and black ‘I <3 Books’ button. Another read ‘Girls’ in pink lettering over a white heart. Aria had a button of the Brooklyn Bridge, the Eiffel Tower, and several buttons supporting causes — breast cancer, AIDS, LBGTQ and childhood diabetes.

Spencer reached out and tapped the rim of Aria’s hat. “I like what you’ve done with your hat. Your parents just let you walk around wearing those?”

Aria raised an eyebrow and leaned against the bookshelf behind her "Yeah?”

Spencer looked surprised. "Really?"

Aria shrugged. “My parents basically let me do anything I want, as long as I don’t get, like, arrested or anything. You should see some of the posters I have.”

Spencer noticed for the first time how Aria was dressed. Black and pink striped leggings, and a black leather jacket shrug, over an old The Beatles T-shirt. Feather earrings dangled from her ears and Spencer could see the tip of a fake — real? —  tattoo of a dragonfly peeking out from under her shirt. Its bright blue tail went just past her collarbone. “Is that a real tattoo?”

Aria laughed. Spencer was staring at her like she had grown a second head. “No, it’s a temp. My parents won’t let me get a real tattoo until I’m sixteen. What about your parents? Could you get a tattoo?”

Spencer snorted. “I can’t even butter toast without them breathing down my neck to make sure I spread it evenly.”

“...Seriously?”

“No, but the sad thing is it’s not that much of an exaggeration.”

Aria was about to say something when Byron trolled over. He placed a gentle hand on her left shoulder. “Aria, we have to go.”

“Dad! I only got one book!” Aria protested. “I ---” Hazel eyes lit up, snapping briefly to Spencer before landing back on her father. “Dad, this is Spencer. She’s our new neighbor! Can’t I stay here for a while? Please? Spencer can show me how to get home.”

Byron’s eyes shifted to Spencer. “Oh, that’s right. My wife mentioned we lived next to a couple with two daughters. Hastings, right?”

“Yep!” Spencer shot Aria a small smile. “I’ll get her home safely, sir. I promise. It’s just a few blocks from here and I know my way back. We won’t be too long.”

“Please, Dad? I only got to pick out one book! I need at least five. I’ve read all of my other ones two dozen times, and ---”

“All right, all right,” Byron cut his daughter off in a soft tone. “It’s fine. Just come straight home once you’re done, okay?”

“I promise!” Aria nodded eagerly

“Of course, sir.” Spencer said politely.

Byron fished his wallet out of his pants and handed Aria a twenty-dollar bill. “Here, you go. Buy something for Spencer, okay?”

“Sure!”

Byron bent down and kissed Aria’s cheek before giving Spencer a small nod and walking off.

“Thanks for offering to walk me home.” Aria said.

Spencer smirked. “Hey, it’s no problem. What are friends for?”

Aria mirrored Spencer’s smirk. Friends? Spencer considered them friends already and Aria hadn’t even been in town for a whole day yet.

“So, you’ve read The Witches? I just love this book!" Spencer exclaimed. "I'm really fascinated with The Salem Witch Trials. I would love to go back to that era."

A smirk grazed Aria’s pink lips. “The kids at my old school thought I was a witch because I used to carry around voodoo dolls.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah,” Aria giggled. “I made them out of cloth. I knit a lot. I made the hat I’m wearing. The kids were probably freaked out because I made the dolls to resemble a few of them. I portrayed them pretty accurately.” Her voice grew softer and she mumbled, ”I wouldn’t have done it if they hadn’t picked on me all the time.”

Spencer snickered. “Those poor bastards." She frowned and shifted her weight anxiously." I know what it’s like to be teased, though. It sucks.”

“No kidding.”

Spencer stepped a tiny bit closer to her and Aria’s nerves crackled. “What’s with the buttons on your hat? Do they mean anything?”

Aria’s free hand flew up to her hat, her fingers dancing over the smooth buttons. “Oh, yeah! I collect them. I collect a lot of things. Anyway, each town I go to, I try to get a button from there. Some of them, like the Eiffel Tower, are places I want to visit. I would love to go to Paris. Some of them are obvious, like the 'girls' one. Books. My cousin has diabetes and she’s, like, six. I know someone who survived breast cancer. All of them are important to me.”

Spencer smiled. Her lips pursed in thought and she dug through her satchel. “Here,” she said, dropping it in Aria’s hand, “I want you to have this.”

“Really?” Aria studied the button. It was in the shape of a horseshoe. Her eyes shifted to Spencer’s face. “How come?”

Spencer shrugged. “I carry it around for luck, but I’d like you to have it. You said you try to collect from each town you go to, right?”

Aria nodded. “Yeah! I - are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Aria’s heart fluttered. Spencer certainly was kind. She fastened the button onto the rim of her hat and with a little giggle, bumped Spencer’s hip with her own. “This is important to me now, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, because,” - Aria twisted her hat to the side and shot Spencer an almost flirty smile - “I got it from my first friend here in Rosewood. So I guess we’re stuck with each other.”

“I think I like the sound of that.” Spencer smiled.

“Aria?”

Aria jumped. The service had ended, and Spencer was staring at her. “Sorry,” she says softly. “I was thinking about...stuff.”

“It’s okay.” Spencer’s voice was shaky. She looked on the verge of tears.

Aria smiled uneasily and stood up. A few people were standing over Melissa's casket, saying their final goodbyes, and she had to tear her eyes away.

“Aria? Spencer?”

Both girls whip around. Spencer's parents were standing in front of them. Veronica’s makeup was smeared down her cheeks and Peter’s eyes wre red and puffy.

“Thank you for coming, Aria,” Peter expressed in a somber tone. “It’s very much appreciated.”

Spencer embraced her parents in a hug and Aria's stomach twisted.  "I...of course. I'm so sorry."

Veronica patted Aria's hand. "You're a good girl, Aria. You always have been."

Aria smiled halfheartedly. "I'll, uh, be right back. I think I see my brother."  She ducked away before anyone could say anything, and dashed out the funeral home doors.

The stone steps were slick and wet, and Aria nearly toppled over in her heels. It was freezing outside, but Aria's insides felt like they were engulfed in flames. Acid bubbled in her stomach. Bile tickled her throat. Spots started to flash in front of her eyes. Aria leaned against the nearest tree and shut her eyes.

Age 12 - September 4th, Spencer Hastings’ House, 5:00PM

“So, I’ll have a map ready for you tomorrow. We’ll walk to school together and you’ll meet Hanna and Emily. They’re my best friends.” Spencer walked up the front porch of her home.

“What are they like?” Aria asked, following behind her new friend.

“Hanna’s really...well, she’s a diva. Emily’s shy but really sweet. I think you’ll get along with them well.” Spencer unlocked the door and slipped inside.

"I hope so," Aria mumbled, ducking in after Spencer and shutting the door behind her.

"You will," Spencer replied, kicking off her flats.  Her toenails were painted red and Aria thought the color looked good with the contrast of Spencer’s skin.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Spencer asked.

“I should probably get home and let my parents know you haven’t lured me off to certain doom," Aria joked.

Spencer giggled and hung her satchel by its strap on a kitchen chair, motioning for Aria to sit down. “Nah, your brother saw us. Didn’t you notice him outside?”

Aria shook her head.

“Oh. Well, he was out on your lawn. Anyway, want some water or something? A Sprite?”

“A Sprite sounds good.”

Spencer headed over to the fridge and took out two cans of Sprite. She sat down next to Aria, and slid her can over to her. “Are you excited to be in a new town?”

“I guess. I’m hoping this place is better than my old town.” Aria popped the tab open and watched the clear liquid fizz around the rim of the can.

“What do you think of Rosewood?" Spencer asked, opening her soda can and taking a sip.

Aria started to reply when an elder girl walked in through the Hastings' back door. She had the same hair and eye color as Spencer, but unlike Spencer, she didn’t wear glasses and she was dressed in business attire.

“Spencer, Mom told me to remind you about dinner at the country club tonight," she said, without so much as a glance at Aria.

“I’m not stupid, Melissa,” Spencer snapped. “I remember. Oh…" Her gaze fell on Aria. “Aria, this is my sister, Melissa. Melissa, this is Aria. Her family bought the house next door.”

Melissa’s eyes finally flitted to Aria and her lips turned up at the corners. “Hey, Aria. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," Aria said in a polite tone.

Melissa tilted her head and her smiled widened. “I like your hat too. Interesting.” Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as she gracefully made her way over to the girls. Her fingers of her right hand grazed the rim of Aria’s hat. “Your style is unique.”

“Can you leave us alone?" Spencer piped up, sounding annoyed.

“Relax, Spencer. I’m just being complimentary.” Melissa sauntered away, but paused at the base of the stairs leading to the basement. She pivoted slowly, her gaze falling on Aria immediately. "It's good to see my sister making new friends."

And then she was gone, leaving behind a confused Spencer and a bewildered Aria.

The blare of a car horn snapped Aria out of her memory. She straightened up and turned around, breathing raggedly. People were leaving the funeral home and getting in their cars to make the drive to the cemetery. The tiny orange flags on the top of each car were too omniscient, and Aria almost didn’t see her family climbing into their car. She finally exhaled and looked down at her hands. Her palms were slightly red, with half-moon crescent marks present on her skin. As Aria slowly made her way to the car, she inhaled and exhaled as deeply as she could. 

Today was going to be a long day.

[thespace-dragon]

How do you focus on writing your fics? I feel like whenever I start to write my head goes about 200 directions at once and it's super disorienting...

oh dear god. take a seat love, we are about to dig into this:

So this is my process, and by no means should you try to replicate it for yourself, but its the guideline i follow after a few years of writing and actually posting fics. 

write down all your ideas. it does not matter what order they appear in, all you have to do is write them all down. my head works in a pretty logical way, so most of the stuff that crawls its way into my head is roughly in chronological order.

plot, plot, plot, plot. create a timeline and for the love of god, at least try to stick to it. its ok to branch off and go a different direction from time to time, but the plot line you set out for yourself should include a lot of what you already have written down for your story. it will save you in the long run.

always keep a notebook handy. I keep two small ones in my bag at all times: one specifically for ruins and another for all the other random stuff i come up with throughout the day. if you can, whip out your notebook whenever you have an idea and jot down the basics of it, or enough so your mind knows where youre going with it. it always sucks to have an idea only to lose it as soon as you have the chance to get back to your computer again.

I also highly suggest getting google docs on your phone or using the notes feature on it, in case you dont have a notebook

find a buddy to scream with. i have a large pool of people that i just scream at about fics and sometimes they can help get rid of the plotholes that you didnt even see when you first come up with the idea. like ruins and the klance bb fic im working on with @soltserra have really tight plotlines and if anyone finds plotholes, wow kudos to them. (and it was also soltserra who heled me plot out ruins to begin with. and theres a shit ton of other ideas she has too, like more than me. Au factory im telling you)

the actual writing part. this is a doozy. i honestly cant tell you how to make sure your head stays on one track, but the way i do it is writing down the major plot points for the chapter im working on and just go. plug in music, find music that fits the fic, make a playlist and just run with it. like surprise, half the time im writing, i have no fucking clue what im doing and what happens, happens.

dont force something to happen. if its not working, dont write yourself into a corner and try to find a way out. its perfectly ok to cut pieces out and just start the scene over. i do it all the time.

if you havent already, try writing exercises like sprinting and free writing to get the creative juices flowing. i was really adverse to sprinting at first, but when i tried a couple of times, it was amazing how fast i was able to crank out chapters. most of ruins is written on sprints, and the entirety of Displaced is sprinting. And its all about getting words on the page. progress is progress.

lets say you actually finish something. awesome! you did it! but now you gotta go back and edit it. -groans for eternity- this is kind of a proven fact, but change the font and the font size and get to editing. youll be amazed at how you can suddenly see all your mistakes and places that could use more detail here an there.

also, grammarly really helps with catching the major grammar mistakes and is an awesome extension to have on your browser. it works on almost everything. Google docs and stuff, unfortunately, dont support it, but if you wirte using word or an open office word processor, you can upload the files and edit there.

idk it keeps me from making a fool of myself most of the time

GET A BETA they will literally keep you on track throughout the fic. i have a bad habit of posting right after im done editing in the first round and not going through a beta before posting. trust me, it will save you lives. plus you make a pretty good friend if you do, and they double as your scream and scheme buddy most of the time :D

god i think that covers everything. i hope this helps!!