Fanfiction writer asks: 1 and 21
1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction?
Mmm…I think I must have been 13 or so? I wrote some truly terrible Goten/Trunks fic. Fortunately, I posted them to a yahoo group which eventually disbanded, so I haven’t had to deal with the consequences of my worst writing sins floating around on the internet.
21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?
Ooooooh. Oh, wow. That’s really hard because I know so many fantastic fanfiction writers. Okay, here’s one of my favorites: kay_cricketed (ao3), kay-cricketed (lj), Kay the Cricketed (ffn), @columbinepurples (tumblr). This writer has fics posted in some places that aren’t always posted in others, so I thought I’d better include all the links I had for them.
Kay_cricketed is amazing. They are masters of simple, evocative descriptions and implied reactions that leave powerful impressions. “Show don’t tell” is something that they are very, very good at. A few lines from them are enough to leave me with a picture in my mind that haunts me years later.
The only unfortunate thing is that they often leave fics unfinished, hahaSOB
My two favorite of their fics are both unfinished, but sometimes Kay_cricketed goes back and works on wip fics years later, so I haven’t given up hope yet. Here they are:
There is Such a Boy & if you build the fire, come sing (Rise of the Guardians, Bunnymund/Jack Frost)
Lockdown (TMNT, gen)- I linked to chapter 3 bc it has the links to the first two chapters at the top and the next part at the bottom. :)
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Mm Jack messing with his ears in an attempt to annoy him but actually just flustering him - 🕯🍊
Ty for the Prompt! It was a lot of fun to write :)
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“You know it’s the end of August, right?”
Jack says above, sprawled atop the ledge of earth located behind Aster as he sits against it. The pooka registers the question only after he’s finished a stroke on the egg he’s working on and huffs.
“What of it?”
His ears twitch as he listens to Jack roll around on the grass and hum to himself.
“I don’t know,” The winter spirit begins, “It’s only been a few months since Easter, do you really need to be working so much right now?”
Aster reaches for a new egg to paint, nodding approvingly to himself as he admires his freshly made googie as it waltzes off to the others he’d worked on that day.
“Trust me, mate, this is nothing.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll take your word on it.”
Their conversation dies down after that, but Aster finds he doesn’t mind as much as he probably would a few years ago. It’s comforting, and he’s enjoying himself and the time him and Frost are spending together.
Especially when he’s able to just sit back and mindlessly paint eggs out in the serenity of his warren.
There’s more gentle rusting above. Jack’s probably playing with the grass again, he thinks to himself, but his thoughts are cut short when a delicate cool touch grazes the shell of his ear.
Aster flicks his ears forward and spins around to stare bewilderedly up at the winter spirit, who’s doing nothing to hide the satisfied smirk across his lips.
“Oi-! What do ‘ya think you’re doing?” He asks, and Jack shrugs down at him from where his arms are crossed beneath his chest.
“Did you know your ears twitch every time you’re listening to something?” He says instead, and Aster feels his fur raise slightly with embarrassment for having been so easily read. The movements are involuntary, it’s not like he notices them half the time.
“What else ‘ya expect them to do? Stay still?”
Jack simply shrugs again, and Aster turns around to adjust himself to as he were before; albeit skeptically.
His ears are,, sensitive. It’s not normally an issue for grabby hands when he stands tall over others. It was just surprising, to say the least, to feel something against them that wasn’t his own touch.
He’s a few patterns through an egg when Jack touches his ears again.
He almost drops the egg with the way his body jolts.
This time, the spirit chuckles when he turns around.
“Very funny, mate. Now stop it.” Aster forewarns, and raises the hand he’s using to hold his paintbrush threateningly.
Jack drops his head into his arms as his laughter quiets down, “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
Aster wills his ears to stop moving. Frowns at his precious ‘lil googie and focuses all of his attention to staying as still as possible. Ironic to his previous statement.
He shouldn’t be getting as flustered as he currently is. Especially with Frost only poking his ears twice. Twice.
He knows Jack’s intentions are nothing more than to mess with him, but why did it have to be his ears of all places. Why couldn’t it be his eggs, or his bloody boomerang?
Aster stares down at his incomplete egg vehemently.
Jack rustles around on the grass once more and Aster flicks his ears back to the sound. But just as fast as he’d done it, and realizes so, cool fingers find their way against them and he yelps.
Dropping his brush and egg, the pooka circles round and hops over the ledge, tackling the nag. Jack’s laughing, uncaring of Aster’s predicament and his fur raises again.
“I said ‘ta rack off.” He fumes, and he can feel Jack’s limbs squirm beneath his hold; restless.
“I’m-!”, chuckle, “You-!”, more chuckles, and Aster’s cheeks bristle as his ears slope down once more.
When Jack finally catches his breath between laughing and trying to speak coherently, his eyes travel across Aster’s features and his jaw drops slack.
“Oh my god. You’re embarrassed.”
Aster tenses, “ ‘m not.”
The corners of Jack’s lips spread wide as his smile broadens.
He barks out a laugh, “You so are! I thought I was just annoying you! This- this is so much better.”
“Wha-!” Aster shakes his head profusely, clearly befuddled and aghast to the entire situation, “How is this better? There’s nothing going on here.” He lies.
“No need to be so shy, Bunny.” Jack taunts below, which has Aster flustering for yet another reason now, “What’s got your tail in a bunch?”
Huffing through his nose, Aster leans back onto his haunches, making space between them and to free Jack from his grasp.
He looks away and off to the side, and Jack sits across him nonchalantly.
“C’mon, it’s just me. I won’t spill a word.”
He has a fair point, Aster thinks to himself. He doesn’t have a reason not to trust Frost, admittedly.
Aster scrunches his nose stubbornly before muttering, “ ‘m ears are sensitive.”
There’s no immediate response, and the pooka redirects his gaze to see Jack puffing out his cheeks with an exhale, his own gaze averted now.
“What?”
If Jack has something to say, he better say it right or else he’s up and leaving before the bloke embarrasses him any further.
Jack runs a hand down his cheek and Aster notices the thin layer of frost that’s wiped away with the motion, “It’s nothing! It’s just- that’s actually really adorable.”
“Adorable??” he sputters, and Jack flies back onto the grass in yet another fit of laughter. Aster doesn’t know if he wants to pull out his hair or hide in a hole. “I am not bloody adorable.”
“Yes! You are! You’re such a rabbit oh my god- I can’t breathe-”
Aster’s two seconds away from tackling the spirit again when Jack collects himself enough to say, “Sorry I touched them, I won’t do it again.”
He blinks, and curses the way his fur stands to no end.
“ ‘ya don’t have to apologize. I was just surprised, is all. Maybe,, ask next time.”
Jack smiles, “Okay, I will.”
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