#fwff

[cyborgraptor]

All of my entries for Felwood Fright Fest! It helped me get out of a drawing funk so I had fun drawing these up. Didn’t help that my cintiq croaked in the middle of my last drawing though, so I took an extra 2 weeks to make the gif and the last drawing as is PFFFF I have tagged specific people’s characters of my posts on twitter instead if people are curious!

[sineaden]

happy ffwf! what’s a line from any of your fics that has never left your heart and head, that you find yourself often thinking about to this day? why do you think that is? make sure you link the fic! 🤠

bonus question: have you ever had a line from someone else’s fic resonate so deeply that you just can’t forget it? (—avatraang 💛💛💛)

Thank you for the ask! You are an angel coming in with all these ffwfs! 🙏

So, to be entirely self-indulgent, one of my favorite lines I've written comes at the end of chapter 16 in I'll Be Seeing You. To put it in into context, you know when little kids ask adults "how much?" and then the adult stretches their arms out wide and says "this much".... So (spoiler alert) when Toph asks Sokka how much he'll miss her, my favorite line is simply, "My arms don't stretch that far."

I suppose I was proud of finding a way for him to express how much he'll miss her without saying it outright. That chapter is one of the angstiest, but also one of my favorites as writing it felt like a bit of gut-punch, but oddly therapeutic for me.

Now, for the bonus question, I have to give a well-deserved shoutout to my friend @cats-and-metersticks, who by the way has never written a bad fanfic in her life. Seriously, all her work is phenomenal, and though I'm biased, I have to say I particularly enjoy her Tokka fics. She seriously nails the characterization, the dialogue, the pacing, the sentence structure. Just an exceptional writer all around, and I've learned a lot from her.

But anyway, I'll never forget the first time I read The Quest is a Metaphor and I literally gasped out loud when I got to this line (spoiler alert):

"Although before he fell asleep as well, he made sure to take her hand in his, so if he dreamed again he wouldn’t let go."

Now, outside of the story, it's a nice line, right? But I'm telling you, when you read it in context it really packs a punch with how poetic it is. Like, you know when you read someone else's work and it's so good that you actually get a bit jealous that you didn't write it? That's how I feel every time I read @cats-and-metersticks's work, but in particular, that line just.... oof. *chef's kiss*

[hailing-stars]

Happy FFWF!

What tags do you filter while searching for new fic to read? Is there something that you absolutely won't read?

happy super late ffwf!!

I don't usually filter tags!! There's not anything I won't at least try out - I think looking at fics and deciding they're awful horrible unmentionable based on a trope or a pairing is a really shallow way to view fic and just fiction in general. That doesn't mean I don't come across something in a fic and decide, okay I'm really not digging that and close out, just means the things I shy away from will exist in fics, from time to time, despite what it's tagged with.

[skeptiquex]

Hello! There's such a beautiful delicacy that you've created in She Was Pretty. What was your writing process like for that fic? How did you get the idea? What's your favorite passage from it, if you feel like sharing?

Hello dear Starry! She Was Pretty came from a few places so I’ll try to list them here.  1. I was not particularly sympathetic or kind to Lavender in Iustitia & Prudentia which was my first fic. I think it fits, but I also wanted to imagine what she would look like to someone who loved her and give her a chance to have a happy ending.  2. She Was Pretty took its name from the 2015 K-drama. Again, plot-wise it doesn’t resemble the fic at all, but it’s partly about the main lead dealing with the idea that the person she was has not become the person she imagined she would. “She Was Pretty” is as much something people say to her as she says to herself. And I think it’s a very interesting process for someone to go through.  3. All my Drarry is set like, 5 - 10 years down the line. I have always been generally more interested in what happens to periphery characters right after the War because they are unlikely to be as caught up in the central workings. They are trying to live their lives in the aftermath. The writing process for SWP was pretty straightforward which is surprising for me! I wrote it start to finish in a few days and most of the edits were elaborating on certain passages with my betas’ guidance or tweaking words here or there. Usually I kind of let things languish for a while but this was two weeks and then out the door. My favourite passage is: 

Her mother offers her pity mostly, raw and cloying. But there is love there too. She clucks at her the second day Lavender is home after a month spent in hospital. “They didn’t braid your hair tight enough, Lavvy. Come here.” Mum sits Lavender at her vanity in the master bedroom, with its charmed lights and array of perfume oils. She spends time with detangling potions, fingertips and comb, brushing out the fairy knots that have formed at the crown of her head and the nape of her neck. Mum braids her hair, even though she has arthritis in her hands and has been sending her to Auntie Yasmin to have her hair done since she was eight. She seals the end of each braid with a charm.

I wanted to make sure that Lavender was surrounded by love as a Black woman and it wasn’t just a matter of romantic love. Her mother shows familial love the way my mother has shown me love: with time and acts of service, even when it pains her. I think sometimes love isn’t saying the right thing. It is doing what you can, when you can. Her mother cannot fix the world for her, nor can she change what happened. But she can rub her back and braid her hair. 

[salytierra]

I noticed in your 2 most recent zukki fics, you made Suki and Zuko have a relationship, and then put Sokka into the mix. Most times it's the opposite (Sokka and Suki are already together), what made you choose do to it that way? Love your fics btw

Oh boi ✨

Well i just love Zuki. so much.

And there's very little on them despite the fact that their chemistry is outstanding. I fell in love with that pair while reading the comics, and while I don't wanna make Sokka sad by taking Suki from him, I get my kicks where I can. (in my AUs, that is to say).

Now, in Heave Ho it had to be that way, because I was writing from Sokka's POV.

In yesterday's one-shot I just was like "fuck it, Imma do it again" ✌️

[skeptiquewrites]

Hello Tee!! Happy Friday! For ffwf, I was wondering what inspires you to write?

Hello dear Fwoosh! Ooooo! Well I try to always take away something from everything I listen to/read/watch. But, I really love listening to music, that’s the fastest way for me to get a vibe down. I have a lot of Big Feelings so that, haha. I love hearing other people’s personal stories because I’m very nosy and strangers like to tell me things (not so much these days).  I am also very inspired by small and big trips. Haven’t gone anywhere far from my house for a while. I look at old photos a lot and look up places I’ve been. But I’m inspired by just the feeling of being somewhere new. Standing at the waterfront. Getting completely lost. Trying a new restaurant. Feeling very small in the world.  

[superherotiger]

Happy FFWF! What are some of your favourite metaphors you've written or read?

Happy FFWF!

I think my favourite metaphor would be from my Celestial Irondad AU Of War And Starlight, where Peter struggles with the quiet because it reminds him of the time he was abandoned in wild space before Stark found him. Describing the way Stark used his voice to create war in general was heaps of fun in that part, but the finishing line of “Stark had perfected his voice into a weapon of war, but for his son, and only for his son, it became a shield.” was by far the line I was most proud of!

Thanks so much for the ask and I hope you have a great day!

-Superherotiger

[elwenyere]

Little milestones

Happy FFWF! My first multi-chapter fic broke 2,000 hits today, which is a big deal for this baby FFW. In celebration, here are the two scenes that I wrote the whole fic for:

Scene One:

Steve hauled himself upward, ignoring a new string of profanities from Tony, who moved quickly to brace Steve's shoulder and hold him upright. Steve ran his eyes quickly around the room. Luckily, HYDRA’s hideout was not up to code, because the overhead lighting was connected to a circuit breaker through cables of exposed wiring. Steve gestured toward the wall.

“How fast could you rig those up to electrocute me?”

“You did not just ask me that, Rogers, I swear to God –”

“Tony! How fast?”

“30 seconds.”

“Do it. Tony! Listen to me.” He clenched his jaw around a fresh wave of agony. “We just need enough of a current to fry the explosive without cooking my brain. The device could blow any second, and then I won’t be able to get you out.”

“Get me out?! Get yourself out, you bastard –” Tony tried to interject, but Steve kept talking over him determinedly.

“We’re both going to get out. You’re going to shock me, you’ll short out the chip, and then you’ll bring me back.”

“Oh yeah, no big deal, I’ll just kill you and bring you right back!” Tony yelled. But his gaze was steady, and then he was moving, already ripping wires from the wall and positioning them in the metal tub of water. “I cannot fucking believe you are making me do this.”

“I know you can, Tony,” Steve said firmly, arranging himself on the chair next to the cart. He pulled off one of his gloves and put it between his teeth to stop himself from biting his tongue when the current hit, and then he let Tony position his bare hand carefully in the tub.

“I’m still going to be really pissed about this when you survive,” Tony ground out, moving into place at the circuit breaker without taking his eyes off Steve.

Steve nodded, leaning back against the chair until –

“Wait!” he shouted around the glove before removing it from his mouth.

He needed just one moment. His skull was pounding, but the sight of Tony – vibrating with energy, pinched with suppressed fear, but warm and pissed off and alive – was like coming up for air. Since he’d seen the footage from Malibu, Steve had been aching to see Tony’s chest rise and fall, to see the glow of the arc reactor that meant his heart was beating. The need had been so strong that Steve had barely been able to acknowledge it; and though he hadn’t let himself work out the odds, he knew this could be his last view. Maybe that’s why what came out of his mouth was:

“I love you.”

Tony’s hand fell off the switch, one of the few clumsy things Steve had ever seen him do.

“You – what? What the fuck, Steve!” he exploded. “You can’t say shit like that when I’m about to kill you! You love me? I am going to bring you back and murder you five more times, you absolute asshole –”

“Tony!” Steve gasped out, shoving the glove back in his mouth as the pressure spiked to a new intensity in his head.

“I love you too!” Tony yelled as he flipped the switch, and then all the anguish in his voice was pulsing through Steve’s body until everything went black.

Scene Two: 

“Come on,” Tony begged, counting the beats as he drove his palms rapidly into Steve’s sternum. “Come on, Steve. Don’t you dare do this to me.” He was throwing all his weight into the compressions, but he could already tell it wasn’t going to be enough. Steve’s rib cage was too strong, and Tony couldn’t get enough pressure on his heart. He titled Steve’s head back, pinched his nose, and breathed into his mouth, but Steve remained motionless.

“No no no no no,” Tony whispered, compressing frantically with every syllable. “Please, Steve. Come on. Don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I can’t –”

He broke off, struggling to push back the desperation clawing at his throat. He was just about to start trying precordial thumps when, from outside the room, he heard the unmistakable sounds of Clint Barton clearing a hallway.

“Yeah, and you’ll stay down, you big ugly bastard,” Clint’s voice announced.

“Clint!” Tony yelled, his voice cracking with relief.

“Tony?” Clint came flying into the room, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of Steve’s body – no, Steve – lying on the floor.

“Barton, please tell me you brought a suit.”

Clint was across the room in a second, his hand snapping up over his shoulder, where he had strapped one of Tony’s briefcase suits to his back.

“Thank God,” Tony breathed. He popped the lid on the case and held his right hand over it, clicking a switch to deploy one of the gauntlets. “I have to restart his heart,” he tried to explain, but Clint just grabbed his shoulder and nodded firmly. Tony leaned forward over Steve’s chest to get in position.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered as he calibrated the pulse. “Come back to me.”

He shot Steve directly in the heart.

After a horrible silence that might have lasted a second or a century, Steve sat up with a rattling gasp. Tony barely had time to register the fact that he was now tucked in Steve’s lap before Steve had swept Rumlow’s gun off the ground and pointed it toward the door, his other arm curling Tony protectively toward his chest.

Tony collapsed forward in relief, his forehead falling to Steve’s shoulder, and his hands gripping Steve’s upper arms.

“Oh my God, Steve,” he managed, at the same time that Clint let out a loud, “Fuck.” Tony could hear Steve’s pulse thundering against his temple, and it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He pressed deeper into it, retracting the gauntlet so that he could dig his fingers into the warmth of Steve’s arms. If he held on tight enough, he couldn’t feel how hard his hands were shaking.