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fountainpenguin · 5 months

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"Suspense is controlling my mind... I can't find a way out of here..."

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New 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash update today!

Fairly OddParents || One-Shot - “Approval”

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

Find more Lavender Train story arc HERE

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A glimpse into 155,000-year-old Foop's life on the student council as he decorates the gym for a high school dance. Guest appearances by Poof, Denzel, Kevin, the von Strangle twins, the O'Terrae clones, Whistle, and Foop's betrothed: Anti-Coriander.

(First 1000 words under the cut)

40. Approval (~5,000 years after "Temptation" and 5,000 before "All I Ever Wanted")

Wednesday February 8th, Aurora 177

Year of Water, Winter of the Powerful Rapids

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If Foop had truly had an inkling of how much work it takes to run the school as its student body secretary, he may not have bothered campaigning. Honestly they were three years into the current zodiac cycle and he still hadn't decided if he'll run for the position again.

He probably would. He most definitely would, so he didn't even know why he was complaining. The one and only cycle that he reigned as student body president with Poof as his secretary, half the meetings didn't get their minutes recorded in any real detail, and Poof had typed every single document using the Central Star region's way of spelling Snobbish words.

And other minor annoyances… like, he'd written out directions once and called the first floor "second floor" and Foop spent 30 minutes flitting around in puzzled circles until it clicked that he and Poof were using different terms for their destination. He walked in late and his snacks were cold. Hmph. No one ever seemed to have that problem when it was him sending out newsletters. Atrocious.

And when Poof had double-dipped his hand briefly into the role of student body treasurer, the budget may as well have been sliced in half with the way Poof divvied up their things. Honestly, it felt sometimes like his counterpart flopped in his various roles on purpose just to make him miserable. He'd like to believe Poof was better than that level of petty, but sometimes when you were dripping with exhaustion and low on caffeine, it was impossible to tell.

Poof's on freaking peppermint a solid 70% of his waking hours anyway. A lot of help HE is. He supposed he could thank his counterpart for getting addicted to candy in a way that let Foop operate sober and without temptation of any kind. That was the only silver lining to any of this.

Foop despised his counterpart's peppermint habit, but like Darkness would he ever rat Poofy out to his mummy and daddy. No. They both relied on their parents' approval- if not for physical comfort and safety, then certainly for emotional support. Hard pass. Disgrace. Poof had far too much dirt on him to ever make him risk tipping their mutually assured destruction too far to one side.

My secret affairs with Anti-Marigold come to mind… His father will flay him alive when he finds out about that. An anti-will o' the wisp… Really. The prince of Anti-Fairy World could have done "so much better in a mistress" (and High Count Anti-Cosmo will painfully let him know it). His lecherous father was a textbook nymphomaniac. Foop would rather die than allow the pooferazzi to document Anti-Cosmo dragging his son out to all his old brothel haunts or… or… something like that.

Do we even have brothels in Anti-Fairy World? Who knows. That's not the point. The High Count undoubtedly did something scandalous with his spare time when he wasn't holed up plotting world domination, and whatever that thing may be, Foop would sooner sprint one billion kilometers in the other direction than ever face it head-on.

Anti-Cosmo didn't approve of the fact that Foop ended up on student council in the first place. Foop had cheated some of the vote (as he'd cheated it for years) by relying on bashful simpletons like Whistle to campaign in his favor while simultaneously threatening others into voting for him. He'd stuffed the ballot box and didn't even care. Honestly, part of him suspected the school knew what he was up to, and Foop took cruel pride in the fact that if he managed to do a good enough job keeping the school activities flowing, the faculty might simply look the other way. Oh, there's such a great joy in being wanted as a leader instead of merely feared…

Not that my father understands that. My position is secured someday, especially if I don't have heirs until I'm so old that my wand sparks when I use it. Meanwhile, my father will be twisting his neck, peering anxiously over one shoulder in cold anticipation of my rise to power until the day he dies.

Ah, youth. He reveled in it.

At least Poof knew how to lead a meeting that kept all the officers engaged. Poof had this animated way of speaking where he sort of gushed over his words, the long tails of his blue bandana ribbon snapping behind him in an imaginary wind every time he paced. He could sell a genie on underwater real estate. Maybe that was why the people kept electing him student body president year after year.

They'd been setting up for tonight's dance since before the window for early-morning breakfast wishes closed off. Well… Foop had, anyway. It wasn't really necessary. In a pinch, magic could always be whipped out to speed the process along, but Foop had his own… reasons for wanting to keep eyes on their location for hours at a time.

He traced the pad of one finger along the dark scar that curled around his neck. Left side, just above the collarbone…

Cavatina Sanderson had slit that scar across Poof's innocent skin 20,000 years ago, during the same Autumn Masquerade where Foop first met Anti-Coriander. Foop had even died and regenerated a few times since then - not on purpose! (mostly) - but the scar wasn't his to heal. This same scar branded his counterpart's neck. It had been given to Poof first, and the stupid sync between their cores kept it firmly in place like a teeter-totter. Terribly annoying.

He never knew how to explain it when strangers asked. Wasn't even his battle wound to brag about. Or Poof's, for that matter… That infuriating pixie had simply backed his counterpart against a wall and shoved a blade right up to his neck. Poof just let it happen. And if he'd done it at one dance, Foop had no reason to believe he wouldn't make another appearance tonight.

Therein lay the anxieties.

[Cnt’d - FFN and AO3 links above]

#FOP #Fairly OddParents #FOP Foop #130 Prompts #ridwriting #Nerdy blue bat son #Purple hippie dragonfly #Snazzy sequel son #Panicked sequel son #Cilantro princess #Cavatina #Big Crock #Little Crock #FAIRIES!#Bat cube and associates #I wrote / drew this in May. It's been a long wait #apparently art #fic announcement

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fountainpenguin · 10 months

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4, 7, and 8

[Current Ask meme]

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

In terms of unpublished works I don't really talk about, I have at least 27 named FOP stories [as in, I'm not counting anything that already has at least one chapter posted and not counting any 130 Prompts]. Not all of them are winners and some are currently being recycled into 130 Prompts. Some I'm looking forward to writing, but am reluctant to start when I have so many other unfinished projects that are public.

Case in point, I have a draft for a 10-chapter AJ-centric fic called Pulling Your Puzzles Apart. It's an AU where Timmy considered A.J. his best friend instead of Chester, so AJ ended up with Norm's lamp and Norm has to go to college with him while AJ scrambles to keep him under control.

I'd like to post this one, but I also want to wrap up Come With May and maybe Pink and Gray before I open a new story. I keep going back and forth, trying to decide if it's better to have lots of projects that I'm having fun with at my own pace or if it's just better to tackle them one at a time.

(More answers under the cut)

I know I had two unfinished Danny Phantom pieces (plus No Anesthetic which did have one chapter up). Lots of Mario world drafts that I'm never satisfied with. Two TUFF Puppy pieces I started but couldn't put a plot together for, at least two Lilo and Stitch stories and some Bunsen Is a Beast pieces I stopped for the same reason.

I keep meaning to go back to that, they were fun. I love "town that sits on a portal to Beast World" and "Official welcome committee boy who has to take charge of the new fuzzy transfer student despite being descended from a guy who used to hunt his kind," it's such a cruel vibe... It was fun, but I felt weird being super dark for such a goofy show.

I have a stack of WordGirl ideas I've been toying with over the years and I'm looking forward to sharing some of those <3 The one I'm posting on Friday is something I've wanted to write for over 10 years so it's very cathartic and I hope people like it as much as I do.

My favorite Lilo and Stitch story was a Jumba backstory with lots of experiments scuttling around his lab. I've perma-shelved it since it has a similar vibe to Origin of the Pixies and I don't have it in me to write something so similar (nor create all the unique experiments), but Slick (020) was always a favorite. Here's my favorite snippet from that story, and I think you can see a lot of Sanderson's personality in how I wrote him (2016 or 2017):

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“That’s all you are! Big talk, big guts, but puny muscles and punier brains. I mean, you’re programmed to sell stuff. How bright can you be?”

020 plucked 322 up by the scruff and set one hand to his hip. “Aw shucks, that’s real cute and flattering, partner. Now, you’re new here, so I’m gonna cut you a special offer free of extra charge.”

“If it’s anything like the way you cut cheese, count me out of here. If you’re some major room-clearing experiment, you deserve a raise.”

“Name’s 020.” He tipped his hat, and then one of the claws on that hand came down to prod 322 in the bowtie marking. “And I’m Jumba’s number one.”

“Number one what? Back-scratching errand boy?” 322 tipped his voice into a high falsetto. “‘Jumba, I finished all your paperwork. You got mail’.”

I picked up spray bottle and splashed it across back of 020’s head. “Ah-ah! Whoever said you were alpha on block anyway? Please to be giving me 322 now.”

Seething through his teeth, 020 placed 322 in my large palm and crossed his arms.

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Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

One of my favorite sections of prose is the way Foop speaks about Anti-Sanderson in "You'll Never Know." This story was written with Foop as an incredibly unreliable narrator who dodges questions, is unfaithful with his answers, and skirts around his emotions.

In this story, we hit the 77,777-year anniversary of Anti-Cosmo's mysterious disappearance and Anti-Fairy politics demand Anti-Wanda take a new ruling partner. Anti-Wanda proposes to the Head Anti-Pixie (Anti-Sanderson) and Foop (mentally 11) is dealing with a lot of complicated emotions. He feels abandoned by Anti-Cosmo, fiercely protective towards his mother, cowed into submission by the people who have always see him as reckless, and he struggles with a lot of guilt over the fact that he actually admires Anti-Sanderson.

Two weeks before the wedding, I ask Hap the same question I asked Mother, following it with, "Do you even know which kids are yours?"

He points down at my head with two fingers. "DNA test, sucker!"

"No you can't."

"Oh fudge, you're right. I didn't think this through. Eh, weh, meh." Shrug. "I'll draw straws. Now, where should I put the maps I brought? I also have questions about my wrapping paper collection, but I do not have answers."

"The High Count's office, I suppose."

Hap doesn't move, hands still templed before his chest. "Does anyone else have an opinion?"

The only other person in the room is Klangfar, so no. I lean back on my heels in the air. "Nothing's going to bite you. I store all my junk in there." Hap still twitches, so I shrug. "It hasn't been Father's office in a long time."

"It's still a 'Yikes' from me."

And… that's why I didn't hate my step-father. I could have stopped the wedding. Easily, with just a twist of my hand. But I didn't. Because Hap might have overthrown his own father to seize the Head Anti-Pixie title, but I'd seen him tone down his playful teasing during the points in Council meeting discussions he was most passionate about. When he first showed up at the Blue Castle with a backpack containing his favorite valuables and three anti-pixie kids behind him, I watched from the stairs as he looked around the entry hall, gripping those backpack straps and looking absolutely overwhelmed. It took a few weeks before he could remember how to fly after being deprived of clean magic for so long, and Hap didn't scream or cry every time he got upset. He would chuckle and, sheepish and bruised, ask the next person he saw for a lesson. Something about his laughter stopped my cheeks from burning with secondhand embarrassment. He felt no shame.

"I don't like this," Hiccup murmured.

Hap had skittish feet outside his own territory. I noticed early on that he followed my mother whenever he thought it wasn't weird. His whole presence was weird. He always stood crookedly with wings slightly open in a way that drew attention, but he didn't force himself into the centre of a room. He spoke when he wanted to and didn't when he didn't. For someone who wore bold red and yellow, he could certainly melt into the background when he wanted to. He walked the halls sometimes at night, hands clasped behind his back, and… not a single gram of anxiety shot through me if our paths crossed while I snuck midnight snacks upstairs.

"Take a scoop of vegetables with you," he said the first time he saw me, and I stopped dead.

"What?"

"Veggies," he said, walking right past me. "They're good for you. If you don't eat them tonight, get a lot tomorrow, yeah?"

"You're hardly the boss of me, Head Anti-Pixie."

"You got me there," he laughed. Never stopped. Never tried to push it. I saw the way he coloured pictures with his anti-pixies and listened in while Smoky played piano, offering advice and critiquing the bends of his claws. I saw how he spoke to my mother, keeping a respectful difference and trying not to overstep. I saw him stare some nights at the portraits of Anti-Cosmo on the walls, copying his posture for a few seconds before drawing a cloth from his pocket and wiping a bit of grime from the frame. He didn't try to take those pictures down. I saw him hesitate to seize my father's office, balancing on the heels of his feet. And that's why I don't stop the wedding.

"Can I have this?" I ask Hap three days after his coronation, pointing to a silver wand sheath lying on the High Count's desk. My father's own, if I'm not mistaken. Hap barely glances up from the weird golden bridle he pulled from the closet.

"Sure."

I buckle the sheath on. My ba-ba won't fit, but just wearing it makes me feel more like an adult. "Could I also get a little spending money for a camping trip with my friend Kelsia?"

"Mm, depends. Are you on a healthy diet?"

"Mostly."

"Then you sure can, pudding tin."

"Does pudding even come in tins?"

Hap points two fingers at me. "It does if we make some tonight!"

We do. Me and Smoky and Hap and the three anti-pixie children I keep not learning the names of since they rotate between the Castle and Isle every week. And it's fun. It's a lot of fun.

I fall in my coffin that evening without bothering to unclip the wand sheath, hands folded behind my head and feet kicked in the air. "Ah… Now this is the way a prince should be treated."

"Foop," Hiccup whines.

"What? You know I'm right. A father who respects Mother and gives Smoky and I anything we want is way better than a father who runs off with other lovers behind his family's back. Mother deserved better than him. We all did."

"This isn't fair to Daddy."

"What do you want me to do about that?"

"Are we ever going to tell Mum about the fight?"

"Why should we?"

"I don't know… I just don't like doing this."

I snort. "Nothing's ever good enough for you, Puck. I spent my formative years under so much distress that our mind split apart. All these years later, we're finally getting a normal childhood. For once, can you be happy for us?"

Of course it wouldn't last. Hap disappears five years later. Hiccup has the decency not to say I told you so.

It's not the most melodic prose voice, but I feel like it fits the vibe of "Foop being curious and not as judgmental as he expected to be." I really like the way I showed Anti-Sanderson's awkward adjustment to his new role as High Count (and Foop's temporary step-father). Anti-Sanderson is very unstable (as you'll see in the snippet after this one), and I love touching in on these moments where you see him out of his element, feeling self-conscious.

I love the parallels between how uncomfortable Anti-Sanderson is to be filling Anti-Cosmo's shoes and how Foop feels out of place and "never good enough" for his role as prince. I love how Foop sees beauty and strength where Anti-Sanderson sees his faults. I love this fragile, human side of Anti-Sanderson that shows how he's trying to do his best and find his way in the world.

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Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I wrote the 130 Prompt "Look At That!" in 2016, and it'll still be a bit before we get to the Cavatina arc of the 130 Prompts... This is a spoiler, but it's still a dear favorite of mine. The Cavatina arc has its dark moments but it's a lot of angsty fun. This scene is one of my favorite dialogue exchanges...

“What about your son?”

“What about my son?”

That wasn’t the answer Sanderson had been expecting. “They’re synced up, same as you and me? If my son dies in that fall, yours will go down with him? That’s Anti-Entities 101.”

Anti-Sanderson tapped his right temple as he pushed himself back up to his feet with the leg of the barstool. “There are nine hundred ninety-nine more on the way genetically identical to him. I’ll probably let one of them live. Get yourselves a long running start, team. Draw on that sugar rush. Give it all you’ve got.”

“Wait.”

That small voice belonged to Anti-Cavatina. As before, as soon as someone asked him to, Anti-Sanderson made the signal for his followers to stop what they were doing. Still leaning on his makeshift cane, Anti-Sanderson turned himself around and squatted.

“Come here to talk to Daddy, wrigglepie. Come, come- don’t be shy. Won’t you give your old man a hug?” In slow motion, the little anti-pixie did. His father ruffled his star-blond hair. “Oh, yes, that’s the way you do it. What’s the matter, kiddo?”

“You…” Anti-Cavatina, not removing his arms, shot a puzzled glance in his counterpart’s direction. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him if I got the watch.”

Anti-Sanderson sucked air through his teeth. He nodded two or three times. “Ooh, that’s right. Thaaat’s right. Rats- I knew I was forgetting something. I did promise you that, didn’t I? Well.” Flipping back into a smile, “Change of plans, peachcake. Can’t be helped.”

“But I got the watch!”

“I know you did. You’re my big bwave boy.” Briefly releasing his cane, Anti-Sanderson took his son’s cheeks in both hands and squashed them inward. “And I wuv you so much, yes I do, you’re just adowable, oh yes you are.” He kissed Anti-Cavatina on the forehead, then patted him between the wings and pointed up the street. “Go tell Uncle Anti-Wosencwantz all about it. Daddy’s busy wight now.”

I love Anti-Sanderson as an antagonist because he's absolutely feral. His morals are extremely fluid and you can't even trust him to take care of his own son... I love this scene because I feel like even without context, it still gives off a chilling and villainous vibe. I love how poisonous and dangerous Anti-Sanderson can be. He's horrible but I also find him hilarious... Just a horrid man.

Thanks for your interest!

[Current Ask meme]

#ridspoilers #ridwriting #130 Prompts #Sanderson is neat #Fashion tornado mob boss #FAIRIES!#Pulling Your Puzzles Apart #Lilo and Stitch #Cavatina #Ask box games

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