Hi! This is my (queenitsy's) writing journal. If you are looking for anything about me and my life, or general fannish squeeing, that's probably where you want to be. This is where I post fic. It's also where I post about writing, both fanfic and original stuff. A lot of it is very self-indulgent and pretentious. I only really write about the original stuff under friendslock -- the only stuff that's friendslocked -- but I will friend back anyone who friends this journal.

I did basically nothing this week. Today I finally finished a chapter of the novel, but that's it. Fail.

The Novel: I'm still behind on where I should be, and am not striving as hard as I could on it. But I did make progress this week; I got another chapter and a half cleared (maybe two? I also don't keep excellent track). I'm actually very near the end of my second act, which is at least 90% rewriting, and I've realized that in the last month, while I feel like I've got nothing done, I've actually written and edited quite a bit. Again, not as much as I should have, but not so little I'm scoffing at myself, either.

Fannish: There was that tiny ficlet (300 words), and then, uh.... 8,000 words of Sky High fic. THIS SHOULD BE AN ENORMOUS SURPRISE.

Snippet! Warren and his mom prepare for a party at the Strongholds' house:

Warren stared at his mom. "You're wearing that?"

"Hm, my teenage son disapproves. That means either it's embarrassing, or it's sexy." She looked at herself in the mirror and did a slow turn. And yes, her shimmering silver dress was by far the nicest thing Warren had seen her wear in years. "I'm going with sexy."

He snorted disdainfully. "It's embarrassing when old ladies try to be hot."

"Thank you. And that's what you're wearing?"

He looked down at his outfit. Not that it was an outfit. It was jeans, a t-shirt, and his leather jacket, which is what he'd been wearing all day. "Uh, yeah."

"You can't dress up a little?"

"For Stronghold?"

"For the party," she corrected. "You could at least wear pants with no holes."

"I like these pants."

"Go. Change."

He gave up. His mother had lot her mind, and that meant there would be no arguing with her. He changed into a slightly nicer pair of black jeans and walked back out. She sighed.

"Wearing a shirt with a collar would have killed you?"

"Yeah, I really think so."

"Well, at least you're presentable. You need a haircut, though."

"Mom."

"I'm just teasing, sweetie."

"Don't call me sweetie."

"So you're wearing that to the red carpet. Really, Sonny? Really?"

Sonny looked at herself in the mirror and tried to ignore Chad, because he was just trying to psych her out, playing his evil little reindeer games. "I look good."

"Eh." He shook his hand in a kinda-sorta-maybe gesture. "Maybe, but to premier Fashionista, shouldn't you wear something more… fashionista-able?"

"Don't you mean fashionable?"

"You know what I mean." He stroked at non-existent facial hair and nodded. "I mean, your dress…"

"Is pretty!"

"Eh." Kinda-sorta-maybe again. "And those straps kind of give you linebacker shoulders."

"Chad!"

"Well, hey, I mean there's always the chance you'll need to tackle someone on the red carpet."

"Chad!"

"Fashionista herself on the Worst Dressed List. Ironic, doncha think?"

"At least I'm not wearing argyle."

"Argyle is awesome, okay, and I'm not wearing it on a red carpet."

"Because you weren't invited."

"Like I'd even go to your stupid premier."

"Like I'd even invite you."

"Like I'd want you to invite me."

"Like I'd want you to want me to invite you."

"Psh." Chad scowled. "And have you even looked at the back? I mean it's all… low and swoopy and… shimmery."

Sonny turned, trying to watch herself in the mirror over her own shoulder. "I think my dress is fine."

"Really, Sonny?"

"Really, Chad."

"Really. Well, all right. Have fun walking the red carpet. By yourself. In your shimmery linebacker dress."

Sonny sighed. "Chad, do you want to come with me?"

"Psh. No. I just thought maybe you'd want a ride in my awesome convertible."

"Really, Chad?" She rolled her eyes and walked out of the dressing room, then paused. "If you're coming, you're not wearing an argyle sweater vest."

"Got my tux in my dressing room."

"Really, Chad?"

"Really."

I was basically dead to the world for half of this week. I got a little under a chapter done of the novel, all of which was writing from scratch, because nothing in my middle third actually made any sense or did anything it was supposed to in the rough draft. WHOOPS.

But also, I was extremely distracted by Sky High this week. As will happen. Y'know.

Word count:
- Spot/Race ficlet: ~300 words
- Jackson/Cody ficlet: ~300 words
- Various Sky High bits: ~ 3,600 words
TOTAL: 4,200 words (not counting the novel, obvs)

Next week I will totally work hardcore on the novel. REALLY.

Also I will probably write some more ridiculous Sky High fic. I am writing a romantic interest for Mr. Boy. YEAH, YOU HEARD ME.

Snippet (unrelated):

Layla loved the holidays. She loved them so much she had volunteered to stay after school to decorate, even though it meant getting a ride home from Mr. Boy. That was a major disadvantage to Sky High -- students who stayed late, be it for detention or to volunteer, had to find a way back down.

But it was totally worth it. She walked down the hallway, arms outstretched above her head, feeling the rush of power and the smell of sweet, fresh greenery.

"You know, Hippie, you're awfully inconsistent about that no-power-use policy."

She twirled to see Warren leaning against the mad science lab doorway and smirking. Which was his second-favorite facial expression, she was pretty sure. Right after scowling.

"What?" she asked.

"You say you don't use them unless absolutely necessary, but…" He gestured at the holly she'd been growing above the row of lockers. "You do. All the time."

"This is necessary," she said. "Christmas is next week. I'm decking the halls, Warren."

"Yeah. Necessary. Right."

She walked over to him, rolling her eyes. "It's holiday cheer. It's important. And hey, look at that." She pointed up, and he looked where she pointed. And once his gaze was up, she grew a tiny sprig of mistletoe.

"Shouldn't you be doing that over Stronghold's head?" he asked.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I don't need mistletoe to get away with kissing him."

He scrubbed at his cheek with one hand, like a little boy who resented his mom kissing him. "Do that again, and I set your boughs of holly on fa-la-la-la-fire."

100 words, Warren/Layla:

Warren never told Layla that he'd recognized her the second she walked in the Paper Lantern's door. He saw her sit down and knew Stronghold was coming, but Stronghold never showed up. Warren watched her wait, and sip tea, and mope. And Stronghold still didn't show.

But Warren didn't sit down out of pity, because he didn't recognize her first as "that girl who follows Stronghold everywhere." He saw her as "the cute redhead with the permanent smile."

He hated that she wasn't smiling.

He hated Stronghold for that way more than anything involving their fathers.

So Warren sat down.

Title: Five Times Warren Lied, and One Time He Told the Truth
Author: queenitsy
Pairing/Character: Warren-centric gen (overtones of Will/Warren/Layla)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's always about Warren's father.
Spoilers/Warnings: Some language.
(Thanks to poisonivory for the beta.)

5.

Warren Battle is six years old. It's the middle of the night, and his father shakes him awake. He sits up, confused. His father sits on the edge of his bed, but doesn't turn on the light. Just holds out a hand that glows like magic.

"Do you like the stories I tell you?" he asks, smiling.

Warren nods sleepily. ( Read more... )

So I did work on the novel this week. I did. In fact, I got about a chapter and a half done. I'm just that point in the cycle of such things where I hate it and it's like pulling teeth and it sucks and I want to set it on fire. You know, as you do. I know I'll swing back around, so I'm trying not to beat myself up or stress myself out (hi, I'm crazy, have we met?), but... Bleh.

So while I wasn't working on the novel, I wrote about 2,700 words of Chad/Ryan nonsense that will never see the light of day and isn't even worth snippeting, and then today I wrote 2,000 words of Sky High fic. And also mainlined about 15 Sky High fics, reading-wise.

Basically, I had forgotten how freaking much I love that movie until I watched it last night, since I was sick and it is definitely a comfort movie for me. YAY MOVIE. (I also discovered that I ship Layla/Warren almost as hard as I ship Will/Warren/Layla, which surprised me, but darn it all, the scenes of the two of them flirting awkwardly are so freaking cute. I also sort of ship Warren/Magenta, because she would put up with none of his nonsense, which I appreciate. But I totally love Zack/Magenta, and the afore mentioned Warren/Layla and Will/Warren/Layla, so it's not like I ship it super hard or anything. I JUST HAVE A LOT OF OPINIONS, OKAY.)

Uh, snippet. This is not actually a Warren/Magenta fic, it's just a scene of her being sassy.
--

Magenta is made of pure evil. Usually Warren enjoys that. Right now, not so much.

"It's not like I'm asking you to go," Magenta says. "I have a date, if you hadn't noticed. I'm asking you if you're going."

"And I'm telling you, no I'm not," Warren says.

Magenta gives him one of her patented Magenta Looks, which says much louder than words that she is not at all impressed with him. Warren tries to ignore it. He hates Magenta Looks.

"Lots of people go to school dances without dates," she finally says.

"And that is relevant to me how?"

"Just saying."

"Well, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't -- don't say things! Jeeze." He glowers.

Too bad glowering doesn't work on people made of pure evil.

"I'll say what I want," she snaps. "Like this: you are so not fooling anyone, Warren."

For a second he tastes adrenaline, feels the tingle of heat in his hands. He clenches a fist and puts it out. Magenta is pure evil, but she's also his friend, and friends don't set other friends on fire, no matter how annoying they are.

I slacked off really, really badly this week. :( I mean, yesterday and today I got good work done -- past a block I was dealing with, realized I needed a new character, realized some things about my protag. Good stuff. But overall, I got less than two chapters done, and now I'm pretty behind my plan. Time to buckle down and work for the rest of the month, yeah? I can do this. Especially now that the World Series is over and can't distract me anymore.

But now I'm going to stop for the evening. And write porn instead. WHAT.

Icon is sadly appropriate: I slacked like whoa on the novel this week, only got one chapter done, and am not too thrilled with that one. (Transitions suck. At the moment it feels like everything sucks. Luckily a couple of first-readers have told me that it doesn't, otherwise I would be about a million times more despairing. By which I mean whiny.)

I also blogged a lot this week, I guess so I could feel productive at something, at least: two blog entries (750 words and 700 words), and a review at AV (800 words).

And obviously I could not stop myself from getting a little fic-write-y this week; all told, I wrote about 2,000 words of the ridiculous business fic, and another 1,700 words of saccharine, ludicrous weddingfic that I will probably eventually post in one form or another. Brief snippet:

Sharpay cleared her throat and pointed a Troy. "You."
"Me?" he squeaked, terrified.
"You are the best man, so you are in charge."
"I -- "
"You," she repeated, "are in charge of making sure that Chad does not get lost, stolen, or strayed. You will make sure that he has fun, but does not get so drunk he has a headache in the morning. You will return him in good condition, and you -- you -- will not drink, so that I can be assured someone is driving safely."
"But -- "
"It is either that," she said icily, "or I will be accompanying you." She crossed her arms.
Troy shrank in on himself. "Designated driver. Got it."

I've been snippet happy lately, I know. I can't really commit to fic while I'm focusing on the novel, so nothing fic-wise is getting finished.

I have totally slacked on my novel so far this week (poisonivory, you may punch me in the arm if need be), and for some reason I've been writing a fic that's sort of a ridiculous 80s movie in my head. Taylor grows up to be this serious businesswoman, and Chad is basically her kept boyfriend, but he also turns out to be a great business asset because he can charm basically anyone, and also, he looks fantastic on her arm. But then it turns out Taylor's company is a growing rival of Ryan's family's business! So Ryan shows up and he tries to seduce Chad away from her, to work for his company instead! Chad, meanwhile, has no idea if Taylor really loves him or if she's only using him, and then falls for Ryan, but finds out that Ryan is also only using him! What's a piece of paid armcandy to do????

(I actually have no idea how it resolves, but that's okay, because it will never get beyond eight or so pages. It's one of those.)

( Here, have a scene )

OKAY, BACK TO THE NOVEL NOW.

I read through the other fic I started and abandoned for hsmbb. It's much closer to done (and more coherent) than I expected! Who knew? Anyway, snippets:

( Chad and Ryan in the hallway between classes )

( Chad running into Ryan and Mr. Evans shopping together )

( Ryan makes the mistake of going out for lunch with the guys... )

Aww, I kind of like this fic. It is mildly cute and has a lot more banter than I remember.

So I just pulled out and reread the first fic I started and discarded for hsmbb, and while I made the right choice in abandoning it, there are some bits I loved. And I think this paragraph absolutely needed to be shared with the world:

Ryan took a moment to let that sink in, because there was really only one reason Chad would be telling him this. Finally, he pursed his lips and said, "I love you, Chad, but I am not getting married by Elvis in Vegas."

Title: Wildcats: Beginnings
Author: queenitsy (temira)
Genre/Pairings: Action-adventure AU; primarily gen, but with some Troy/Gabi and Chad/Taylor (and UST of both the het and slash varieties)
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (some language, some violence); off-screen character death (no graphic or gory depictions)
Major thanks: This fic would absolutely not have happened without poisonivory, harmonyangel, and second_batgirl, who helped me out with everything from brainstorming to beta reading. Most of the best gags were their ideas. ♥♥♥ Thanks also to lielabell, who gave me the prompt that inspired this, and to harriet_vane, who did not attempt to strangle me at any point!

Summary:
The Wildcats will go down in history as one of the greatest teams of superheroes ever assembled: Captain Bolt, super strong, invulnerable, and accidentally prone to creating serious property damage; Strawberry Sugar, who uses her telepathic and telekenetic abilities to take down badguys and cheat at carnival games; Go, who's super-fast and looks super-good in spandex; +ayl0r, an AI, but with emphasis on the intelligence, thanks; and Frappe, who doesn't let a lack of superpower stop him from being a total badass, and who doesn't let being a total badass stop him from baking delicious cookies.

But how did these heroes get started, and how did they come together as a team? And what about Chiaro and Scuro, the twin super villains (or are they just misunderstood)? And why the hell does Captain Bolt turn orange in direct sunlight..?

It's a long story, to say the least.

I: Captain Bolt
II: Frappe
III: Strawberry Sugar
IV: Go and +ayl0r
V: Wildcats // continued
BONUS! Who Are The Wildcats?, a kickass fanmix by kelbebop

BONUS! Fanmix: Who Are the Wildcats?

kelbebop made this completely fantastic mix. It nails every character and the tone of the fic perfectly, and I have listened to it about 97 times. For serious. Click artwork to enlarge; click here to download!

( Who Are The Wildcats? )

Derby Evans partied in style.

Zeke knew that the Evans family was rich. Everyone knew they were rich. But they'd rented out almost every room at a five-star hotel for their party (all so the guests could stay in style afterwards) and when Zeke saw the place, his mind reeled. No one should have that much money. No one needed that much money. What the hell could they possibly spend it on?

( Read more... )

V: Wildcats

"You're cheating," Troy accused, grinning widely.

Gabi fake-gasped. "I would never do that!" But she turned back to the skee-ball lane and rolled her last ball; it went straight up the edge and essentially flew into the tiny corner hole. Which gave her a perfect 900 score.

"Funny," he said. "Because I have pretty good aim, and I didn't even break 500."

She giggled. "I guess I just have better aim than you do."

He rolled his eyes fondly as he ripped the tickets off the end of machine. They'd cash them in for something later, when they were done with the carnival. "Well, I'll kick your butt on the strong-man machine!" He pointed towards the stand where guys were trying to impress their girlfriends by ringing the bell at the top of the strong-man hammer game.

( Read more... )

IV: Go and +ayl0r

The last time Chad ever kissed Taylor, she'd been rushing out the door.

"You going to be late tonight?" Chad had asked, resting a hand on her hip. They fit together like that, totally comfortable. They were both twenty-two, and had been living together more than half a year; Chad figured that he'd somehow lucked into finding domestic bliss young, and he wasn't going to squander it. He'd bought the ring the week they moved into their apartment.

The last time Chad ever kissed Taylor, he'd been planning to finally pop the question that night.

( Read more... )

III: Strawberry Sugar

Gabriella looked around the library, bored. A few students were milling around, but it was a Saturday afternoon, and who wanted to study on a Saturday? At her last school, she'd loved working at the reference desk on slow days, when no students were around. It had been a great chance to hang out with her best friend, another student librarian.

Of course, that had been before Gabriella had accidentally found out that her best friend was cheating on her boyfriend, and she'd had to tell the boyfriend because, well, that just wasn't okay. She'd known it would cost her the friendship, because it wasn't the first time something like that had happened, but it still sucked. Choosing between a friendship and doing the right thing always sucked.

( Read more... )

II: Frappe

Six months ago...

Zeke didn't notice anything weird about how many strangers showed up at his mother's funeral. She'd been teaching at the same dojo for decades, and their family bakery was a neighborhood institution anyway. Everyone knew Zeke's mom.

But he did notice the scuffle, because his father had to break it up.

( Read more... )