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sunriseverse · 10 days

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For the ask game for fic writers: 2, 8, 10, 20, 27, 37, 45, 52, 55, 75, 88, 99

ah, sass, thank you! i love talking about writing :) this is going below the cut because it got long.

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

hm...................i was going to say that i don't usually have this problem and usually just run into the issue of my own mind refusing to write something that doesn't take into account the societal and cultural context i'm writing the characters in, but then i remembered the time i was writing god knows i can never get rid of habits and i was about halfway through, sleep deprived as fuck, and texted my friend in an exasperated, defeated tone, quote, "the show has repeatedly made me say “ugh fuck there’s a blowjob in my future isn’t there” which sounds wild out of context but the context is i think i can’t avoid writing them fucking in this fic". sometimes i cannot control the characters sometimes they really just want to have sex and i have to deal with this.

8. what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it?

if you try and give me "concrit" on my fanfic then i rip you to shreds in dms with my friends. i write to excise the spirit of creativity from where it's possessing my physical form, not to have people try and tell me how to "better" my writing. i'm aware my writing tends to have a lot of things people don't usually enjoy (heavily descriptive, emotion-focused, present tense, a more realistic approach to tropes or themes, etc) and i, frankly, don't care. my writing is for me; everyone else is just getting to enjoy it because i'm egotistical enough to post it. (that said, for my original writing i welcome concrit, because i actually have the intent of having them published. i just haven't managed to get around to finishing many original projects, historically.)

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

i do not come up with titles until the moment i have to post to ao3. i hate coming up with titles and am very grateful when i figure out a lyric from a song or a line from a poem fits it. well..........usually, anyway. all my sunrise fics have had pre-planned titles—but, then again, sunrise is very much an outlier, so.

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

i don't think i've really had a defined trope across my writing the last few years? i guess if i had to choose one, probably the 5+1 format or derivations of it.

27. do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?

for people to read my rough drafts i would have to have rough drafts. i genuinely don't give a fuck about "perfecting" a piece, whatever gets written the first time is what gets posted. could my writing be "better"? probably! do i care? no. i wouldn't say my writing is the best ever, but i personally like it and that's what matters. that said, i do send screenshots of sections i really like to my friends as i write, because i like making them yell at me.

37. when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else?

this i guess only really applies to ocs; in that case, i usually come up with a character archetype, an archetype i'm trying to subvert, or an overarching narrative from which i can extrapolate characters. after that, i come up with names based on that, and then appearances are what i come up with last, usually.

45. name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

only three???? no. absolutely not. @lungache @butchybats @lucientelrunya @owengrose @lunarriviera @lunanoc and probably more whose urls i am forgetting.

52. how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

oh god......................i have so many unfinished fics T^T i have ones that are unfinished but actively being worked on, unfinished but not actively being worked on but which i think about regularly, unfinished and i wish i could finish them but i just never have the time, unfinished because they were a joint project with a friend and then we never finished them and now we're both too busy and not in those fandoms anymore, and unfinished and rotting forever in the cabinet of abandoned wips.

55. do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

uhhhhh okay so. i have. a megop fic (transfomers aligned continuity, pre canon), another megop fic (also aligned continuity), a dc fic, and a gotham fic. the transformers fics would probably be most likely to be completed because i actually have detailed notes for them, the dc fic is dead in the water, and the gotham fic i would have to rewatch the show and i don't need to hurt myself like that again.

75. do you know how your story ends before you start writing?

yeah i need to know at least the basic narrative beats before i start writing. often this means me rambling at my friends in our dms to work out my ideas and the approach i want to take, but i can't start something without knowing how it ends because otherwise it'll never be finished.

88. if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?

hmmmmm i think i would make @xueyang write my mdzs fics because i think they could make them funny. and good. and also emotionally devastating. (hi mar i'm going to write that fic for you i Swear.)

99. was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby?

actually i never expected to become a writer, despite having been writing since i was a young child. i actually thought i wanted to be a fashion designer. which to be fair i guess kind of happened since i can't stop drawing outfit/character designs. but yeah i didn't expect to become a Writer the way that i am now. it's easily one of the foundational aspects of my life and daily routines, and i could not have expected that the first time i started writing.

#ask #ask meme #c.txt

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jancy-central · 6 months

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Welcome, everyone, to another Spotlight Saturday!

This week we are spotlighting writer @throttlegainwell so read their answers to our ‘Get To Know Your Fic Writer’ questions below the cut. And here is the ao3 link to check out all of their amazing fics:

Reminder: This month’s prompt is ‘soulmates’…

…so please see our pinned post for more info. We have posted a lot of soulmate prompts for those needing some inspiration so check those out as well.

And as always, feel free to message us with any questions, whether you are a fic reader or a fic writer. Both of us write fanfic so we are open to helping however we can. Need a beta? Message us and we’ll either help you or put out a call for beta help! Hit writer’s block? Maybe we can help? Or maybe you just want to recommend a fic? SEND US AN ASK OR A DM!

Happy Saturday! ✍🏼 📖

Spotlight Saturday Questions:

@throttlegainwell’s answers:

1. I guess I prefer one-shots generally, but it's much more satisfying to me to write (and finish!) multi-chaptered fics.

2. A mix of both? There's usually at least some degree of planning for each chapter, but sometimes I just see where it goes.

3. ... It depends on the story. Usually, I'm rushing to slap a bunch of ideas into a document as quickly as I can type (or writing notes on my phone). Lines of dialogue, character ideas, themes I want to address, bits of description or narrative or details to include, plot arcs, whole scenes sometimes... I get those into one doc (which I clean up as I go, if I'm copying them over from my phone), then I create a corresponding doc titled LINEAR that I typically view side-by-side with the fragments/notes doc. I move bits into the LINEAR doc as I work, once I know where they're going or have a place for them (like when I've built the connective tissue), until the first doc is empty; I finish writing in the LINEAR doc. There's usually a brief summary of the story, by that point, in the Synopsis window on the right (I work in Scrivener) so I don’t get too off-track, and I'll probably have some notes in the Notes window, as well as any warnings that will be necessary if I post it (so I don't forget later). But sometimes I just sit down and write, like, an entire story, without thinking about it, or I'll try something stream-of-consciousness or experimental. And sometimes I actually do outline (though sometimes that outline is just a bunch of things that I know need to happen, and I drag those around until the order of them feels like a satisfying arc--I wrote an entire 40k+ story that way).

4. Oh, everywhere, I guess. From the source material, definitely. From books I read, concepts I've studied, themes that just interest me so they tend to crop up in my work or maybe I want to try a different spin on them. Sometimes a story I've written/am writing sparks an idea, or I want to try a variation on it to see where it goes, so I branch off from that. Sometimes I just want something, out of the blue. Occasionally, I browse prompts.

5. Nah. I did the whole concrit thing back in my early fandom days. I'm here to have fun and I assume so is everyone else.

6. Nope! I used to do beta reading, a long time ago, and I've casually edited for fandom friends, but I've never used a beta reader. I don't really see myself starting now.

7. Whichever one is the most interesting for the story or whichever one best serves the story's goals, usually. Sometimes because I haven't tried a particular POV before and I just really want to give it a shot, or because I'm writing it with one voice and the voice of a different POV character just *feels* right or sounds really interesting. But I've been branching out a little! I'm usually very committed to 3rd person limited, but this past year, I've been trying switching POVs a bit, I'm writing one story simultaneously from two different POVs (beginning to end, for each) just because it's such a different story for each character, and I'm writing one from omniscient POV because it was really the only one that would do what I needed.

9. I usually try to! (Not always. But usually.) I don't read a lot of fanfic, due to what I imagine is the very common combination of lack of free time and quite severe concentration issues (though I've always been a big reader and I love it a lot, so this is, needless to say, a massive bummer). It's worse with fiction than non-fiction, so if I actually manage to read a fic, it's a safe bet that I probably took notes during and the author will hear *at length* about all the ways I enjoyed it and what I found really interesting or memorable.

10. I have many WIPs, but blinks only came up in a few. One is too explicit to share here, but here's one: He can’t tamp down a shiver at the thought; he blinks extra hard, resisting the urge to grasp the back of his neck protectively.

11. Ooh. Like I said, I don't read a lot of fic (and I haven't read that many for the ST fandom), but I very much love what maddie_grove is doing with Tonight, Tonight, The Highway's Bright. I wildly enjoyed where the hours bend, by fakelight. And this world is gonna pull through, by scoutshonour, hit just right.

12. I don't tend to expect much feedback. I post because otherwise I'll go back and tinker with fics, and I don't really have the time for that, plus at a certain point it's not fun anymore, but I'm still messing with it. So when it's done enough that I've accomplished what I set out to, I post to free up my brainpower to move on to other things. It doesn't necessarily discourage me to not receive it (usually), but it really does encourage and motivate me when I *do* receive it. If someone enjoys a story and wants to talk about it, I'm likely to write more works in that vein or explore those ideas/characters/fandom more. I’m more likely to go back to a WIP if people are excited about it with me. I've received some truly lovely, thoughtful, analytical, humbling, and memorable feedback, and I hugely appreciate and enjoy all of it.

13. Don’t delete/erase anything. Save it all.

14. I tend to get into a certain headspace to write, but I wouldn't say that I usually feel what the characters are feel. Sometimes, I probably do. (I'm one of those people who moves their lips when they read an emotional scene, so I guess I do get a bit into it while I'm writing! Embodied cognition, what a trip.) I do sometimes draw from personal experience, but typically only in very broad strokes.

15. Happily. :) I've written a LOT of sex scenes over the years, for a lot of different thematic, narrative, and character purposes (and sometimes just for rule of horny, rule of funny, or to explore a particular kink). I approach each one differently, based on the tone I'm trying to set, whether I want it to be particularly erotic or emotional or something else, the level of narrative distance I want the reader to feel, what the characters are like, what the overall genre is. Sometimes I get visual or detailed, depending on what I'm trying to do (and whether I feel those characters would do so or whether it would be a help or a distraction in that moment), but I tend to depict the internal processes more than the physical details. The sensory aspects. The observations, interpretations, and reactions. Connections between characters, if there's more than one. I personally tend toward realism in my sex scenes, but I'm not going to pretend that I don't skirt the edges sometimes or just say fuck it and throw realism out the window for a particular story. But I don't think realism is necessary in smut (or any fiction, when it comes down to it). It's a matter of preference.

16. Omg how many fic ideas am I NOT nurturing right now. Way, way too many. Here's a Jancy one that hasn't quite made it to the WIP stage (still in the synopsis-in-dedicated-doc stage): Jonathan and Nancy break up over the college thing. (It’s not really the college thing.) Years later, as they're both settled into their careers (Jonathan as a photographer, Nancy as a journalist, both constantly traveling for work and hard to reach), they end up sharing a room when they visit for Lucas and Max's wedding. Lots of angst, lots of pining, lots of denial, and ultimately an exes-getting-back together story. Sometimes you just want the cliche done your way.

17. I just don't write, tbh. I try to address whatever issue is preventing me from writing (if possible) or (if it's beyond my control) I just accept that it's not a writing period of my life. I'm happier when I'm writing regularly, and I do think it's good for me overall, but I'm not going to let hobby writing cause me genuine stress. (I've got non-hobby writing for that, ha.) I take it as a sign that something is wrong or that I'm just tired of writing and need to recharge (by engaging some other interest or hobby for a while).

18. Depends. Sometimes the title comes first, sometimes during, sometimes after. Sometimes I really do just fall in love with a title, though. I rarely struggle to title fics after the fact, but when I do, I'll just slap a quick and vague title on there and call it a day. Often it's a pun or something relevant, sometimes an important line from the story, sometimes lyrics. I have a series of art-related titles for some Will stories I want to do and some science ones I have saved for some Dustin stories. Some photography terms for Jonathan. Stuff like that.

19. Turns out it's hurt/comfort! This should surprise no one.

20. Oh, have I ever. Yeah, I've had people read enough of my work to point out themes that I tend to tackle a lot (I'm big on autonomy, resilience, and kindness--you'll see them repeated a LOT in my work, from different angles--and, yeah, I write about trauma a lot), and I definitely have some words/expressions that pop up a lot (and with each passing year, I try a little less to cull them). Also, you'd be hard-pressed to find a story of mine where someone isn't making, drinking, or talking/thinking about coffee. No reason. It just... seems to happen.

21. I had a shared 'verse with a friend, a long time ago. It was a huge amount of fun. We really gelled and produced just tons of material for it that had us in tears laughing and, you know, was also incredibly horny. That was a shared 'verse, rather than a collaboration for an entire story, but, yeah, I'd say that I'd be willing to collaborate. I don't consider myself terribly reliable or consistent, though, so I worry that a potential writing partner would find this frustrating.

22. I used to think so, but, honestly, I've been proved wrong many times, so I'd say no, not really. There's not a lot that I absolutely won't write. There are a few things that remain pretty serious squicks for me, but I'm sometimes able to write about things that I would find difficult to read. Some things also don't necessarily interest me or I would find it technically difficult to write them.

23. Don't worry about making it beautiful. Just get it all down. (You can’t sculpt what’s not there, you know?) And in that vein: write EVERYTHING down. Even if you’re not sure it works. Don’t assume you’ll remember or won’t need it. Just write everything.

24. Anything that's involved regimentation. That just doesn't work for me in every case. It's important to be flexible, both to discover what *does* work for you or to be able to move between different strategies for different stories or at different times in your life. Close second, though: that you should mine your pain to write because that's where true art comes from. That advice is shit. Sometimes art is aliens fucking in a time warp and also there's a ghost with daddy issues. Write whatever the hell you want. It does not have to be profound literature to be a good story.

25. For my ST fics? I think I've gotten a pretty decent response for most of what I've posted, considering it's all very niche and this is a massive fandom (and one to which I came extremely late and very recently). I guess a little more response for already wise, already worn might have been nice, just because it's a weird little experimental story that I think actually came out really neat, but it's *very* niche so I never expected much response. Or possibly Two Steps Forward, just because I think it's an interesting little ghost story that's different from everything else I have posted, and I really do have a soft spot for gen works.

26. For my ST fics, our future foe scenarios is a pretty odd one. We've got Nancy really feeling her big sister duties while also kind of worrying about Jonathan, making out with him, then convincing the Party to let her earnestly and VERY awkwardly talk to them about the importance of consent (and kind of roping Jonathan into helping her, which he's not happy about but dutifully does). It’s kind of clumsy, but she means well.

27. I love when the ideas slot into place, when I know where things are going, I see how it's moving, and I get all the pieces lined up so it's a straight shot to the end. Extremely satisfying. I dislike working out the kinds of technical details that I'd prefer to gloss over but that are sometimes story-significant, like ages and timelines. I'm increasingly just ignoring that shit.

28. Apparently I'm getting several thousand words done a day, on average, with as many as 6-7k some days. But I'm happy if I just do a couple hundred, or a line or two. This has just been an unusually productive year for me.

29. Ideally: I ignore it for a couple of weeks until I've forgotten the shape of it, then I read it over with fresh eyes. Increasingly: when it's written, I go over it for typos, overall continuity, basic coherence, and (if it covers sensitive themes) to make sure that I'm not inadvertently presenting something wildly hurtful or counter to my goals. And then I just call it done.

30. I'd say that I never really polish all that much to begin with, these days. I mostly post 1st drafts, even though there's typically stuff that I would pretty easily catch and adjust if I gave it a real once-over. I've just decided that I'm okay with not fussing with it very much. But I share WIPs these days, some of which are pretty rough. (I did not used to do this that much.)

#jancy spotlight saturday #spotlight saturday #writer spotlight #jancy fanfic #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #jancy

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gendervapor14 · 7 months

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~ late july, 2022 ~

me: okay, i’m just gonna do it. i’m gonna write a HUGE backstory fic for rosinante. hmmm but i think he’s gonna have some mental health issues, especially depression. seems like it would suit the narrative and apply to what we see of his character during the darker moments. i don’t have depression tho, so i should let readers know the portrayal might not be accurate, and concrit is welcome! i want to make sure i don’t offend anybody with this.

commenters: wow i love how you write rosinante and i love how you portray his mental health

me: hmm guess i’m just a really good writer 😎

~ october 2023 ~

doctor: *glances at paperwork* you have depression. and based on the results of this test, you’ve probably had it for at least a decade.

me:

#i wish my fanfiction would stop diagnosing me #it is interesting how these things live in us tho #as if subconciously my mind was telling me by writing it before my eyes #and it’s funny because i started writing about a decade ago!#funny how that works #genrambles

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love-overdrive · 2 months

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Ordinary Miss Yazawa Pt. 1

Summary: The house for sale next door to the Higashikata's was quickly bought by someone. Josuke wonders who it could possibly be before he finally gets to meet his new neighbor, a young woman named Mary Yazawa. However, Tomoko can't help but think something doesn't add up with this new arrival.

Relationship: Platonic! Tomoko and Josuke Higashikata x OC (gen- no romance)

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~3.5k

Notes: Nothing I think needs to be warned about. Mostly bantering between Tomoko and Josuke (I love them dearly). No spoilers for Part 4.

A/n: Aaaaa my first fic with my oc <3 please enjoy! More information on my OCs can be found on my pinned posts. Concrit is always appreciated and welcome, too.

You can read this on my AO3 here!

(Please feel free to let me know if you'd like to be tagged whenever I post a new work!)

“Huh? Someone bought that house already?” Koichi pointed to the ‘for sale’ sign that had a big ‘SOLD’ sticker slapped over it. “I thought they only put it out a few days ago.”

“Who’s that desperate to come here?” Okuyasu commented, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough,” Josuke sighed. “Mom said that no one even came by to look inside.”

“Damn, real desperate.”

“Why would you buy a house without looking inside it?” Koichi pondered. “What if you don’t even like the inside? Isn’t that kind of a waste?”

“How should I know?” Josuke shrugged. “I mean… at the end of the day, it’s just a house, right? You just go home and sit there. It’s not like these houses are bad or anything.”

“But what if you wanted a big one!” Okuyasu shouted. “I know I want a huge living room in mine. Something awesome for parties.”

Koichi tapped his chin. “Well, if we’re talking about what we want in houses… maybe many rooms. One for a library to put all my manga, a guest room for my family if they want to stop by, and rooms if you want to start a family.”

“I would want a huge fridge,” Josuke added.

“The fridge isn’t part of the house, dude! You buy that!”

“What? No way, when we moved in our house, the fridge was there!”

“That’s because your grandpa had bought it…” Koichi grimaced at the two. Josuke pouted for a moment at Koichi’s correction before waving his hand.

“Well, that’s not the point! It’s still kinda weird to buy a house without looking at it!”

“Who do you think bought it?” Okuyasu’s eyes widened. “What if it’s secretly a celebrity?”

“Why would a celebrity come to live here?”

“Damn,” Okuyasu deflated. “You’re right, you’re right.”

“It’s probably just a family.” Koichi stated. “Probably couldn’t afford the prices in places like Tokyo and so they would come here to pay a cheaper rent or mortgage.”

“How do you know so much about houses in Tokyo?” Josuke raised a brow. Koichi bashfully smiled and chuckled.

“I saw it on the news yesterday. Apparently prices have been going crazy over there.”

“Whoever bought this house probably has no clue what’s been going on here, though. I kinda feel bad,” Josuke commented. “I’m sure we’ll meet them soon. I just hope they’re not totally annoying or something.”

Scratch that thought. It was not even 8 am on a Saturday and already the moving trucks next door had bothered Josuke. He sandwiched his head in between his pillow and huffed. Who the hell moves in so early?!

Already cranky from being woken up, he glanced to his mirror and noticed his hair was a mess. What a great way to the start the day. He opened the window and was about to give his new neighbor a piece of his mind when he saw a young woman twirling her hair while the movers unloaded the truck.

“Wait, careful with those ones, please,” she pointed at a box with the word ‘fragile’ on them. “Those were like, pretty expensive.”

“Yes ma’am!” The men nodded, making her grin widely.

“Thanks~, you guys are so sweet,” she replied, continuing to watch them. “Uh, put that box by the kitchen, and that one by the window.”

Josuke raised a brow as he watched the scene. His new neighbor was definitely not what he expected them to be.

He didn’t realize he was staring until the woman called out to him and waved.

“Yoo-hoo!” She cheerfully yelled from below. “Hello! I’m your new neighbor!”

He was taken aback by her peppy attitude- seriously, it was 8 am on a Saturday- but waved back awkwardly. “N-nice to meet you.”

“Sorry for all the noise, I hope I didn’t disturb you!”

“It’s alright, not like I was sleeping or anything,” he lied, feeling guilty at the thought of unleashing his previous anger at her. Josuke had to wonder how she was up this early. Was anyone else ever-

“Josuke, who the hell are you talking to right now?” Tomoko snapped from the hallway. “What did I tell you about hogging the phone?”

Right. How could he forget?

“I’m not on the phone, mom,” he tiredly replied. Tomoko swung open the door without a second thought, only to find her son indeed was not on the phone, but still in his tanktop and pajama pants and leaning out the window.

“Then what are you…?” She shook her head and strode over to the window, looking to see a slightly confused but smiling young woman. “O-oh! You must be our new neighbor. Welcome!”

The woman chuckled and nodded. “Thank you. I’m happy to be here. If it’s not too much, I have some gifts for you all. Can I drop by soon to introduce myself properly?”

Tomoko nodded quickly. “Of course, yes, you can. Stay for some tea, too!”

“I’d love that! I have to finish with this, but give me about… um… like… three hours and I’ll be over,” the woman replied, waving one last time before turning around and ordering the men to drop off another set of boxes in a specific place.

“I love her shoes,” Tomoko mumbled to herself as she closed the window.

“I didn’t think it would just be some woman. I thought it would be a family,” Josuke rubbed the back of his neck and yawned.

“I didn’t expect that, either,” Tomoko casually replied. “That being said, what the hell were you thinking!”

Josuke’s eyes widened at his mother’s harsh tone. “What? What did I do?”

“What did you do? You just introduced yourself to our new neighbor in your pajamas! Do you know how bad that makes us look? We have to make a good impression, not make her think we’re a bunch of slobs or something!”

Tomoko frantically paced around Josuke’s room.

“It’s not that big a deal. It’s just our neighbor. Not like she’ll die if she sees me like this,” Josuke sighed, knowing his mother’s rant would continue.

“I can’t believe this. I knew she’d be here today, but I was trying to plan a welcome visit and everything, and now it’s all ruined! Now she thinks my son is a delinquent who just sits in his pajamas all day and that we’re a bunch of bums!”

“I really doubt she thinks-”

“No, no, no. Fix yourself up, now. I want you to put on your best clothes and make the best impression you can.”

“But it’s so early and I’m tired! She won’t even be here for another few hours and it takes me less than five minutes to get ready!”

“No. You will not be sleeping right now, you will be cleaning yourself up and- oh, for the love of god- clean up your room, will you?” Tomoko gagged as she stepped on a pile of Josuke’s dirty clothes.

“She’s not coming in my room!”

“What if she asks to see it, hm? You’re just gonna let her walk in and see how messy your room is?”

“Why would she be in my room in the first place?” Josuke retorted exasperatedly. “She’s coming to have tea, not a house tour!”

“That doesn’t matter! What if she wants a house tour? You don’t say no to your guests! Now clean up, that’s final!” Tomoko pointed at Josuke, leaving no room for any disagreement. Josuke rolled his eyes as Tomoko slammed the door shut behind her, leaving a grumbling and exhausted Josuke.

Well… she won’t know if I sleep for another fifteen minutes, right?

All too quickly, a fifteen minute power nap became an almost three hour long sleep. He only woke up due to hearing the door knocking, and that’s when all the panic set in.

“Josuke, she’s here!” Tomoko called from downstairs.

Shit! He thought as he tumbled out of bed and threw off his pajamas. “C-coming! Give me a sec!”

Knowing his mother would get on his case about his clothes, he rummaged through his closet for anything nice he had that wasn’t a huge, wrinkled mess. He settled, for some reason, on his school uniform and threw it on haphazardly, nearly tripping over himself as he went to grab his comb from his mirror.

He already knew he was taking too long, and he could hear his mother’s threatening tone when she called his name again, despite Tomoko trying to hide it under a veneer of saccharine sweetness. Josuke barely managed to get himself ready before he almost fell down the stairs to greet their new neighbor.

“Well, you know teenagers, always doing their own thing-” Tomoko said to the woman, not realizing (or, more likely, not caring) that Josuke was in earshot. Tomoko placed a cup of tea for both her and the woman, who graciously thanked her.

“I don’t mind, really. It’s good that they’re taking a moment to like, explore and stuff,” the woman mused. Up close, Josuke could get a better look at the woman. She had dark brown hair that went to her shoulder, but curled upwards at the ends of it. She wasn’t as pale as Tomoko, and her face was covered in freckles and beauty marks. Large, gold hoop earrings dangled from her lobes while her eyes had on some eyeliner and blue eyeshadow, which coincidentally, matched the baby blue sweater she wore.

Josuke cleared his throat awkwardly so his mother could introduce him. Tomoko turned to him with a smile before her face fell. She shot him a death glare when she noticed how slovenly his appearance looked- a warning for what was to come after their guest had left.

“Miss Yazawa, this is my son, Josuke. Josuke, this is Miss Yazawa.”

Josuke bowed politely. “Nice to see you again.”

“It’s nice to see you, too. But, you know, I’m not at work and I’m still pretty young, so you can just call me Mary,” Mary casually stated. Tomoko shook her head to Josuke, telling him not to do so. “And since you’re both here now, I hope it’s alright for me to give you my gift?”

Mary pulled out a pink box wrapped with a golden, glittery bow. Josuke leaned over curiously, wondering what was inside.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to give us something this big,” Tomoko said as she took the box. “I’ll just set it aside and-”

“Oh no, feel free to open it! I think it’ll go great with the tea!” Mary giggled.

Tomoko undid the bow and opened the box, gasping alongside Josuke as they saw many tarts, macarons, and other desserts they couldn’t even name within it.

“W-wait a minute, this can’t be,” Tomoko quickly said as she examined the cover she just removed. “Is this really from that French bakery? Patisserie Chic? That one?”

Mary nodded. “Yeah. I heard it was good. Have you tried it before?” She asked, fiddling with her cup. Both of them shook their head. Patisserie Chic was hailed as the bakery in Morioh, but it was, frankly, very expensive. As a teacher and single mom, Tomoko just didn’t have the funds to splurge that much on a slice of cake or a cookie.

Especially not a whole box of them…

“No, we haven’t.”

“Well, then that means it’s the perfect time to try them!” Mary grinned, clasping her hands together.

All of them took a pastry and took a bit. Josuke and Tomoko gasped at the taste and covered their mouths.

“Mmm! This is amazing!” Tomoko said, not caring she was talking with her mouth full.

“Mhm! Sho good!” Josuke agreed, chomping down on the sweet.

“I guess they were right,” Mary hummed, taking a small, ladylike bite of her pastry. She didn’t react much to the taste, but neither Tomoko or Josuke were paying attention.

After indulging in her sweet, Tomoko wiped her mouth and looked at Mary. “So, Miss Yazawa, what made you move all the way to Morioh?”

“Oh, it wasn’t a big deal or anything,” Mary responded. “I wanted to experience more things, so I took a position at the bank as their receptionist.”

Tomoko raised a brow. “You moved from…”

“Shibuya,” Mary answered.

“Shibuya,” Tomoko repeated. Explains the makeup. “You moved from Shibuya… to here? For a receptionist job?”

“Yes,” Mary nodded casually. Josuke tried to imagine what that would feel like, but he couldn’t think of anything. He loved Morioh, would live here forever, no questions asked- but moving here from Shibuya? That seemed a bit crazy.

“I heard the housing prices and mortgages are high over there,” Josuke commented, trying to keep the conversation going. He’d thank Koichi later for that. Tomoko shot him a confused look, wondering why the hell her son, who was always too busy playing video games and could never clean his room, was suddenly discussing mortgages.

“Yeah, they are. Morioh looks like a nice change of pace. I do like the quieter towns, too. And everyone’s been pretty friendly so far.”

“It’s a very nice town, even if it’s smaller than what you’re probably used to,” Tomoko replied. “I hope I’m not coming off as too rude or anything, but are you living with anyone? A fiance or a husband? I didn’t see anyone else with you right now.”

“Oh, no, I live alone. Again, I just moved for work and stuff,” Mary answered, not at all offended by the question. Josuke briefly wondered if all Shibuya women were like her. He did like that she was a bit more casual than some of the ladies here.

“You are? I didn’t expect that. You look very young. I’m surprised you aren’t with someone,” Tomoko gasped, starting to feel her previous holdups wear down. Even though she was stern at times, she still was a young woman, too, and she hadn’t talked to another woman her age in a while like this.

“I just haven’t found the right guy, you know?” Mary explained. “Like, I’m usually pretty busy with my job, so sometimes I just don’t have the time to really meet guys. My supervisor once said I should try a small town guy once in a while, instead of the big city ones.”

“They’re pretty rough, aren’t they?” Tomoko replied. Mary nodded in agreement.

“Right? Some of them are so pushy and don’t even listen when I talk,” Mary sighed. “All they do is talk about finances or the stock market or something, like, can we just talk about anything else?”

“And don’t they always complain about you working, too?”

“They do!”

Josuke cleared his throat as the two women got caught up in their conversation, making them both silently return to their previous positions.

“Well, in any case, this is a pretty nice place to settle down in. I don’t think you’ll have many complaints here,” Tomoko said casually.

Josuke, wanting to be involved after sitting around boredly, looked at Mary. “So, Mar- Miss Yazawa, how old are you, anyways?”

“Josuke!” Tomoko hissed, glaring at him. Mary giggled again and waved it off.

“20,” she answered.

“W-wait, 20?” Tomoko and Josuke said at the same time.

“Yeah. Is there like… something wrong?” Mary cocked her head to the side.

“No, I just… I didn’t think you’d be that young,” Tomoko responded, the surprise evident on her face. She mumbled a, “you could be my daughter at that age…”

“Woah, you moved out and everything by yourself at 20?” Josuke’s eyes sparkled, seemingly impressed with the fact she could do all that.

“Mhm. It’s nothing crazy. I know lots of people who do the same.”

Before Josuke could talk more, the phone began ringing.

“Josuke, answer the phone, will you?” Tomoko asked. Josuke looked at the house phone attached to the wall and raised a brow.

“It’s not ringing,” he replied, seeing as there was no light flashing on it.

“No, that’s me, sorry,” Mary chuckled. “Is it alright if I take this call over there?”

Tomoko was about to nod before her and Josuke gasped again at seeing Mary pull out a large, thick cellphone. They huddled together as Mary walked to the living room to answer.

“Is that a-”

“No way-” the two whispered to each other.

“How the hell can she afford a cellphone?”

“It’s the newest Nokia, too. I heard you can use it all around the world!” Josuke said with wide eyes.

“Are receptionists really paid that much?” Tomoko asked. “Maybe I should consider a career switch.”

“It’s not fair, how can she get a cellphone at 20, but I can’t?” Josuke whined.

“I don’t even have a cellphone! Why would I get you one?”

“Because… pleeease?” Josuke gave Tomoko his best puppy dog eyes before she shook her head.

“No way. You don’t need a cellphone to waste more time on. You’re already slacking on your chores and schoolwork.”

“Come on, I promise, I’ll do all my chores if I get one!”

“No.”

Josuke rolled his eyes and slumped against the seat. “One day, I’m gonna get one. And when I move out, I will not be yelled at about my room.”

“You have to actually go to college and get a job for that,” Tomoko teased.

“I will! You’ll see!”

The two bickered a bit longer before Mary came back, Nokia in hand. Mary, true to her youthful age, had decorated her phone with some rhinestones and two pink phone charms. Josuke wondered once more if women in Shibuya did this sort of thing. They must be loaded. Or bored.

“Sorry about that, my supervisor was calling.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just some things are gonna need to be done sooner than expected. But, not a huge deal. I’ll just pull an all-nighter or something,” Mary shrugged.

“Ugh, never mind about me getting a job,” Josuke joked.

“Aw, work isn’t so bad. It’s kinda fun!” Mary replied, a wide grin on her face.

Josuke lost track of the time until Mary had left, citing her need to begin unpacking and organizing her house. Once she was gone, Tomoko folded her arms and stared quizzically at the door.

“Something up, mom?” Josuke asked, wondering why she was just standing by their door.

“I just can’t put my finger on it, honestly.”

“Put your finger on what?”

“Obviously, I mean Miss Yazawa.”

“What about her?”

“I don’t normally like to gossip about others but something’s a bit strange about her, don’t you think?”

Josuke shook his head. “Nah.”

“What do you mean, ‘nah’?” Tomoko deadpanned.

“Was there something weird about her?” Josuke scratched his cheek.

“I mean, the fact that she lived in Shibuya and then decided to move here for a receptionist job, her being only 20, having a new cellphone- none of that was off to you?”

“Is it supposed to be off to me?”

“Well, yeah, it’s not really…” Tomoko paused, scrunching her nose at what she was tryna say. “Oh god… am I getting old?”

“What?” Josuke shouted, confused where his mother would get that idea from. “What does this gotta do with anything?”

“I think I’m getting too old. I know I look younger than my age-”

“So humble.”

“Quiet. But, jeez, she’s only 20! Are younger women these days working that hard and doing that much?”

“I guess?” Josuke replied, not knowing much about women. “Maybe it’s what the women do in Shibuya.”

“It’s gotta be that. I heard they got some crazy stuff going on there,” Tomoko commented, fanning herself. “And I guess you would need to work extra hard to afford that place.”

“So then, it’s just cuz she’s from Shibuya.”

Tomoko let out a breath, before nodding. “Yeah. Shibuya. Must be a Shibuya thing.”

“So that settles it then?” Tomoko hummed back. “And you’re not worried about being old?”

Tomoko tried to remain serious, but her lips twitched upwards as she let out a short laugh. “No. I’m good. I guess even the way I did things when I was her age was unconventional, too.” She rubbed the back of her neck.

Josuke knew what she was referring to and pursed his lips. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“And I wouldn’t have you any other way, either. Mmm… maybe just a cleaner room but that can be worked on.”

“Whatever,” Josuke laughed.

“But, really, you should go clean your room. And if you have time one day, you should go stop by her house and help.”

“Why?”

“It’s just a good thing to do. She’s all by herself and she probably needs help moving things around.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that tomorrow. I’ll call Koichi and Okuyasu over, too, since they wanted to know who it was.”

Tomoko smiled, a proud look on her face. Josuke gave a questioning expression back. “Why’re you smiling like that?”

“Nothing,” Tomoko shook her head before sighing wistfully. “I guess I just realized that you’re really becoming a man.”

Josuke’s face softened alongside his mother’s. Well, he wasn’t really all that eager to do so, but maybe helping Miss Yazawa wouldn’t be so bad if this is how his mom would react.

#my writing #mary 4 #mary yazawa #jjba oc #jojo oc #jjba #jjba x oc #oc insert #josuke higashikata #josuke 4 #tomoko higashikata #my oc #self ship #platonic self ship #platonic #self shipping community #selfshipping community

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0utloudthoughts · 1 year

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Introduction

I have always written stories ever since I was little but never really did much with it other than fighting boredom. My lovely partner has encouraged and inspired me to finally start sharing it and write more in general.

I am currently in my mid-twenties and English is my third language, so please excuse any mistakes I might make but feel free to correct me.

Concrit is always welcome!

A little fact about me: I am unable to imagine things in my head, meaning that if I think about something (or someone), I cannot picture it (them) in my head. I just know, I guess?

Thank you in advance for reading any of my posts. I am looking forward to sharing my thoughts.

#introductory post #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #introduction #introducing myself

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rebelyelll · 1 month

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Chapter 32 Author's Notes

Annnd I'm back with Act 2! Writing a summary for this chapter was hella challenging, as I'm not sure how to intrigue anyone with the act's premise lol. In any case, I'm glad to be back. I've been steady working off and on on this, even after just getting ten teeth yanked out of my skull a few days ago. No, that's not an exaggeration; I'm dead serious. The grind is real, man.

The first scene featuring Stroheim and Indila has been rewritten probably FIFTY times. Getting the description of the cyber world down was fun and rewarding, but man I'd be lying if I said it didn't kick my ass. In my head, I was trying to think of how a person navigates an actual computer and use that as a basis for mapping it out. Like Indila walking into Black Orchid equating to mouse-clicking on a software program or whatever.

The toughest part to write about, though, was Indila hacking into other devices in order to access the vault for Stroheim. I kept stopping and asking myself: "Wait. How the hell are they supposed to hack other devices through a program that isn't in use at the moment??" Oh, my head.... oh, my head... so much to process...

I guess it can be safe to say that Indila found a loophole in the network. Please don't ask me what that is lmao! You may feel free to theorize about it if you like, but I don't know how to explain it. I'm not a hacker, so I wouldn't have the faintest idea.

Joliet backstory had me in tears to say the least. I HOPE TO GOD I nailed the aro rep correcty because if I didn't, R i P to me... I think that's the part I'm worried about the most. The hacking isn't a big deal, but the aro rep is imho. I swear to god if I got that wrong, I'm gonna bawl my eyes out.... See, I'm demi/allo. I am on the ace spectrum, but I'm very romantic. So, if you have any critique you want to toss my way about the aro scene, please! Feel free to! All concrit welcome.

I figured since I didn't expand on other elements with imperialism much in the first act, I went ahead and took it a step further. In the Seven Nations, it's mandatory that everyone learns French. That being the case, many other languages are endangered. Hence the reason Ramone from Chapter 2 in the first act spoke French instead of Spanish.

References

The chapter's title, Soul Standing By - a song from Billy Idol's Whiplash Smile album

Indila - the French singer that sings "Ainsi bas la vida"

Alain à Rome - the surname is a reference to the French 80s song, "Week-end à Rome" by Etienne Daho

Black Orchid - the song "Black Orchid" on Avantasia's "Mystery of Time" album

Scarlet Pimpernel - an instrumental by Black Sabbath

Siouxsie Capulet - named after Siouxsie Sioux (I know I intend to make this reference in the Chapter 16's author's note, but whatever)

#author's note #whiplash riot

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Til Forever Falls Apart, 1/2 (Gottrosenali) - Pinkgrapefruit

Denali frowns, eyebrows crinkling with confusion. “Baby, that was yesterday,” he tells her, conviction clear in his voice.

“Nuh-uh,” she replies, shaking her head as she shovels a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“I swear it was.”

Kahmora looks at him, a little concern in her eyes as she shakes her head again, softer this time. “Unless you’ve suddenly found a soulmate or something, you probably dreamt it,” she tells him, and he concedes, pushing his bacon around his plate, suddenly not hungry.

A/N: hi!!!! i really hope you enjoy this because i’m a little in love with it! I’m not going to explain the premise too much because I’m pretty sure you’ll pick it up! thanks to emerald for proofreading and frey for betaing and thank you so much to ella my love for helping my vague ideas all come together!!!

please let me know if you like it!!!

Out on our own

Dreaming in a world that we both know

Is out of our control

But if shit hits the fan we’re not alone

He feels like he’s living in a dream - coming off the main stage of RuPaul’s Drag Race, and he won? After the week he’s had, all the twists and turns of the Porkchop Loading Dock, the runways, and ‘Phenomenon’, it’s like a breath of fresh air to be able to relax. Even if it’s just for a little while.

He slips off his heels, padding through the lot without care that he might rip his tights because, god, it feels good to be able to move his toes. Taking them in one hand - heel hooked over his finger, he takes Rosé’s hand in his other - swinging it between them with a contented sigh.

“Good job, Baby,” he whispers, head tilting so the plastic hairs of his wig graze Denali’s face.

“God, I’m so glad you’re here,” he replies, blinking a couple of times because the early evening sun is threatening to make his eyeliner trail down his cheeks. “Bestie vibes.” It’s a high pitched coo that makes Rosé snort, leaning forward to rock on his toes. He tightens his grip on Denali’s hand to make sure he doesn’t fall over, and Denali feels a warmth in his chest.

“Fuck, that voice,” Rosé coughs out, smiling from ear to ear. “Such a muscley little man making such a white girl noise.”

Denali rolls his eyes, but can’t stop the smirk playing on his lips, dropping Rosé’s hand to flip of Kahmora, who’s turned back from chatting to Joey just to raise an eyebrow at the two of them.

He turns back to Rosé and then gestures towards the sound stage. “What do you think we’re walking into?”

“Fuck if I know,” he responds, rustling his plastic sleeves for added effect, sending them both back into peals of laughter that make the PAs scowl at them as they enter the soundstage.

“HARD ICE,” they all scream, forcing Denali to stifle his laughter with the back of his hand before remembering how dark his lipstick is. He turns to Rosé and pouts, letting Rosé fix up the outline of his lips with the pad of his thumb - squinting in the dim lighting.

“All good,” he whispers, and Denali swallows hard at the feeling of his fingers on his face. He shakes his head slightly and switches his focus, putting his white pumps on so he has something to do.

They wait for around half an hour, rotating in their little circle so they each get time under the aircon. When they’re eventually called to move towards the werkroom, he sighs and hauls himself up from the crouch he’s been sat in (tugging on Joey’s arm), feeling his knees pop as they decompress.

When they enter it, faking smiles to cover their apprehension as if they don’t know what’s about to happen, Denali’s eyes scan the room. She takes them all in, red hair, tiny cowboy hat, pigtails, white face - all the usual, staring down at them like they’re less than.

“Ohhh, that’s what’s up,” he hears himself say - chuckling at Rosé’s button to his comment. He feels his shoulders relax when Joey’s scream crosses the room, a collective sigh of relief blanketing the room as they all ease their intimidations. They crowd around the table as if half of them aren’t in wigs bigger than their heads, and Denali feels a stabilising palm on his lower back.

He breathes in through the nose and out through the mouth before turning back into the conversation. He’s exhausted, the adrenaline high from winning long worn off, and he’s grateful Rosé noticed.

They manage to move through the rest of the pleasantries quickly enough, and he’s out of drag, into the van and into his bed quicker than you can say ‘B squad’.

When his head hits the pillow, he lets his weary mind wander to tomorrow. He can’t wait to see what happens.

‘Cause you’ve got me and you know

That I’ve got you and I know

If the tide takes California

I’m so glad I got to hold ya

Denali’s jolted awake by the tinny tones of the hotel alarm clock, pushing his fists into his eyes and rubbing them a little too hard to try and get himself in the mood for people before ducking into the shower. He does his cursory shaving, his armpits, chest, and chin before starting to brush his teeth, only remembering afterwards that the hotel is doing squeeze your own orange juice this morning. He scowls in the mirror but shrugs, throwing on his clothes (and hoping no one notices they’re the same as yesterday). He’s just in time, and he slips out of the door as the PA calls his name.

He spends the walk down to breakfast trying to remember what he knows about the other queens. He’s heard about Tina from Rosé, and so far she seems to be just as much of a shit-stirrer. Kandy is a well-known name among RuGirl hopefuls, so he’s not shocked to see her, and Symone is linked to Gigi from last season so she’s not a surprise either. He’s surprised Elliott is still here, but it makes sense…

His train of thought is cut off as Kahmora taps his shoulder with a beaming smile, a glass of apple juice in hand. “You excited for Phenomenon today?” She asks, wiping a droplet of the juice off her chin before picking up a plate full of scrambled eggs and following Denali over to their table.

Denali frowns, eyebrows crinkling with confusion. “Baby, that was yesterday,” he tells her, conviction clear in his voice.

“Nuh-uh,” she replies, shaking her head as she shovels a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“I swear it was.”

“Okay,” he admits and he tries to forget about it. Admittedly, he does a very poor job - there’s no way in hell he dreamt it - all of the memories feel too tangible. And that doesn’t even account for the way his legs seem to know the choreography before they come up with it. And he’s not the only one because he notices how Rosé keeps getting this dazed look in his eyes and how he marks his entire solo without hesitation. That didn’t happen last time.

Then again, everything seems a little different from last time. He and Rosé don’t bicker over the choreography, instead, working together smoothly which seems to confuse them both.

He realised very quickly that he could ignore the situation or lean into it, so he delights in doing little things that seem to quirk Rosé’s eyebrows until the brunette pulls him aside after rehearsal. He places a firm hand on his hip and holds him in place, using the other to scratch at his scalp in frustration until Denali bats at it.

“Stop it,” he scolds before twisting his body to lean his head on the cold concrete wall. He sighs. “You feel it too, huh?” he asks, trying to be vague in case the hunch he’s got is wrong.

Rosé falls back against the wall next to him before sinking to a squat. “What?” he asks, a little sardonic. “Feel like I’ve already lived this day, but no one else seems to have noticed?”

He sounds exhausted, and Denali realises that he probably hasn’t even asked someone, he’s just going through the motions and hoping he’s not insane.

“You’re not going crazy,” he tries to console - thinking it’s probably what he would want to hear. At Rosé’s small exhale of relief, he reckons he was correct. “I feel it too.”

“Then we’re both crazy, great.”

Denali sits down next to him, letting his legs fall out in front of him and smiles to himself when Rosé’s head falls onto his shoulder.

“Kam told me it was either a dream or I’d met my soulmate,” he chuckles, meaning it as a joke, but trailing off when Rosé tenses next to him.

“What’s the chance we shared the same dream?” Rosé asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“I’d like to find out.”

And if the sky falls from heaven above

Oh, I know I had the best time falling into love

We’ve been living on a fault line

And for a while, you were all mine

Mik brushes sleep out of his eyes with an absent-minded motion, calling out to the PA banging on his door that he’ll just order room service for breakfast. He hears their call time is four o’clock, but brushes it off in his hazy state until he sits bolt upright. The covers fall onto his lap, pooling on his thighs like fluffy clouds, and he’s half-convinced he needs to fall back into them and just go to sleep. He pulls on a pair of basketball shorts and a beanie, and pads to the door, poking his head around it with a furrowed brow.

“I missed the call time, remind me Mel?” he asks his PA who’s sat in an armchair with an amused expression.

“It’s four,” she tells him, “but please try to stick to the sequester.”

He chuckles, waving a hand in apology before shutting his door and falling onto his bed with a shaky breath.

Something’s not quite right.

He stands up again, anxiety seeping into his limbs and he walks over to the wardrobe - opening it to find a wig head with a long turquoise wig.

“Fuck.”

Next to it is his makeup, set out on the shelf under the mirror in a meticulous fashion - one he can’t remember doing before he went to bed.

He pulls out his small journal and tries to play detective, feeling like a little kid again, scrounging for clues.

There’s his wig - the one he’s pretty sure he wore yesterday and left in the werkroom. There’s his call time - a good nine hours later than he thought it was going to be - and then there’s the weird feeling of deja vu.

It’s crackling through him - blazing up like a wildfire, and he can’t seem to shake the feeling that something is going on.

Yesterday feels so vivid and real. He remembers how Symone smelt when she hugged him, and the timbre of Denali’s voice even though he’d never met him before.

Deciding he’ll figure it out once he’s had some food, he flicks the TV on and pulls the room service menu out of the drawer next to his bed. He’s ordering when he hears the news.

June seventh.

Again.

I’ve spent a lifetime giving you my heart

I swear that I’ll be yours forever

'Til forever falls apart

Rosé rolls out of bed and hits the floor with a sigh. It’s the third time this has happened and while he’s pretty sure the universe could have chosen a better way to wake him up - it’s a pretty good indicator of what day he’s living. He winces as he scrunches up his nose, but knows there’s no lasting damage, so he stands back up with a frown and flicks on the TV for some background noise. Hotels are always a little too silent for him, and he can’t trust his inner monologue not to uncover something he doesn’t want to think about right now.

“June seventh,” he mutters under his breath, “perfect.”

He goes through the motions of getting ready without really thinking about it, pulling on his heather grey sweatshirt and joggers before sliding out of the door. He and Joey share a PA, and so he asks a perfunctory question about Joey’s dance school before tuning out the other man on their way down to breakfast.

He grabs his apple juice quickly and pulls Denali down to sit at a table.

“Ugh, apple juice again?” Denali moans with a pout, placing down a plate of watermelon slices and toast in front of him.

Rosé frowns, looking down at his eggs. “Didn’t you have bacon yesterday?” he asks, and Denali catches on quick enough with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, but I think it’s going to get dull pretty quick if I don’t switch some things up here and there.” He tilts his head in thought before placing an entire wedge of watermelon in his mouth - the rind covering his teeth, so he ends up with a green smile.

Rosé chuckles, wiping a droplet of apple juice from his chin that threatens to dampen his toast.

“I can’t argue there,” he responds, switching his usual ketchup for sriracha on impulse. He takes a bite of eggs and mimes fanning himself, sticking his tongue out to the sound of Denali’s giggles.

“God, you’re so white,” he teases, and Rosé flicks his middle finger up, unable to hide his own smile.

When they finish, they wait quietly for the van to take them to the set, and Denali stretches his arms above his head, twisting from side to side in a way that makes his shirt rise just above the band of his joggers. The trail of hair peeking out in the gap makes Rosé want to run his finger down it, and he has to turn away to keep himself from doing just that.

“Guess this isn’t a dream then,” Denali says, and he hopes his blush is gone when he turns back around to respond.

“I guess not,” he replies lamely and then watches as the brunette chews on his tongue for a second before he seems to remember what he was looking for.

“I spoke to Kam,” he says, and Rosé goes to speak until Denali places a firm hand over his mouth. He makes a face when Rosé licks a stripe up his palm but doesn’t remove it. “I spoke to Kam,” he repeats, rolling his eyes, “and apparently the soulmate thing happens when two soulmates meet for the first time and get stuck in some sort of time loop until they make a connection.” He removes his hand, wiping Rosé’s saliva across his own stubble, making the Scot wince.

“Didn’t want a face covered in my own saliva, but werk, I guess,” he starts, and Denali shrugs as if to say ‘shouldn’t have licked me’, gesturing for him to go on. He lowers his voice but the worry increases. “You did not just walk up to Kam, though, and tell her what’s happening?” He sounds almost frantic, eyes wide, and Denali has to place a cool hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down.

“Chill,” he says as if the whole situation is completely normal. “It was totally natural. I just mentioned I was reading a book.”

“You, reading?” Rosé jokes, seeming to have regained some of his cool. He brushes his hoodie as if trying to remove some stray crumbs and stands up a little straighter.

“Oh, shove off it,” Denali retorts. “You’re allowed to be scared,” he adds, voice softening slightly, “but we do need to actually talk about it.”

He steps a little closer, tilting his head curiously.

“We are talking about it?”

“Sure, love.”

They’re called to the van and the conversation is left alone.

Rosé’s not sure if that’s for the best.

So this is it, that’s how it ends

I guess there’s nothing more romantic than dying with your friends

And I’m not sorry for myself

I wouldn’t wanna spend a minute loving anybody else

He’s about ready to jump off the balcony, he decides, as he falls flat on his face for the fourth time. He rolls onto his back with a huff and looks up at the wood-chipped ceiling. He wonders if there’s a god up there - if his Nan had been right and the lord really was going to punish him for being gay. Maybe this is it.

He inhaled slowly and lets it out through gritted teeth before rolling back onto his front. Placing his hands on either side of him, he pushes up into a plank before dropping into some push-ups just to prove to himself he can.

And maybe because he’s going to see Denali in twenty minutes or so.

Maybe that’s why he pulls on a teal shirt that clings a little tighter than usual. Or maybe not.

He might as well look nice if God is deciding to smite him - that’s his reasoning, and he says as much to Denali who splutters on his apple juice, spraying it across the table in a way that makes the rest of the cast look at them funny. They’re quite a sight.

“Nice to know you think I’m a punishment,” Denali jokes, mirth in his tone, but just a tiny bit of hurt glittering in his eyes. It’s something Rosé wishes he didn’t see because it sends a slice of guilt through him wider than the San Andreas faultline.

“Baby,” he says, reaching across the table so he can take Denali’s hand, and not even wincing when his arm falls into a puddle of sticky apple juice, “Fuck, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Denali’s eyes flick down at the table before meeting Rosé’s, too hesitant for his liking. “We need to have that talk,” he says. “I need you to acknowledge what this means.”

Rosé nods, resigned. “Okay,” he agrees, “after the lipsync.”

They fall into their positions backstage, sunk against the wall, a little ways from the others with the air-con providing just enough noise for their conversation to be muffled from others.

Rosé takes Denali’s hand again, rubbing his thumb slowly against the back of it.

“You’re my soulmate,” he says slowly, feeling the words form in his mouth. “Soulmate,” he repeats again - its shape feeling a little too round and a little too rough on his tongue.

“Soulmates,” Denali agrees, and somehow it sounds perfect coming from him.

They sit in silence, listening to the rumble of the air con and the bustle of the crew.

“Surely this is a connection though?” Denali points out after a few moments, and Rosé has to shake his head to allow his thoughts to catch up. He’d gotten stuck on soulmates, and his brain had just stopped. “Like, surely this is something.”

Rosé shrugs, squeezing their intertwined fingers and letting his head fall onto Denali’s shoulder - reminiscent of the first conversation they had like this. “Maybe you need to kiss me,” he suggests, half joking, but Denali places two fingers under his chin.

A sly smile crosses his face, and he presses their lips together before Rosé can blink.

It’s over in seconds, and yet it lasted long enough for Rosé to remember that Denali’s lipstick tastes of vanilla.

He’s not sure he’ll ever forget it.

Denali looks at him in the backstage lights, using the fingers under his chin to manoeuvre his face, and then the pad of his thumb to gently blend any purple into the nude of his lipstick.

“Six out of ten,” he quips, unable to do anything much, except relish in the electricity that seems to be flowing through him from where their lips touched.

“Shut up,” Denali replies with a small smile, standing up and reaching out a hand to tug Rosé up next to him. “I’ll kiss you properly when I know these bitches will remember it,” he points to Kahmora, who’s watching them both with a raised eyebrow - the rest of them seem oblivious.

Rosé smirks.

“Deal.”

#rpdr fanfiction #til forever falls apart #pinkgrapefruit #s13 #rosé #gottmik #denali foxx #denali x gottmik x rosé #kahmora hall #canon compliant #soulmate au #fluff #poly #time loop #denali really wants orange juice and its an ongoing plot point #a comedy of idiots #dumb bitch energy #concrit welcome i guess #we stan v

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nientedal · 3 years

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reading buddies!

#megamind #dal is a fanart #dal draws #this started as ''ooo i wonder if i can do hair in this app?'' and turned into ''well crap that actually looks good #guess i'll do the whole thing''#concrit welcome #i have literally no idea what I'm doing 😅

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riosnecktattoo · 3 years

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Not that i wanted Beth to get shot or hurts by any means. But i will say that I think it's a little idk wrong i guess compared how they showed Rio shooting we got a brutal close up and saw this man deadass choke on his blood. Idk all of this just feels very wrong.

I do see what you mean, I loathe the 2x13 shot of Rio, but I also get why the 4x16 scene was shot that way/the scene was intentionally misleading.

Firstly, the lingering shot of Rio choking on his own blood was gross in the way the camera froze on his pain and the gore in a way I don’t think the show has done for any other character in violent situations. I hate it and think it was an awful choice. He's had actual scenes that were shorter than the lingering shot of him choking on blood.....

But the Beth shooting is framed as a mislead from the get-go. I think we are initially supposed to believe she got shot-shot. Like a head-shot. She falls, goes completely limp and still, and blood instantly pools out at an alarming rate in a way that would suggest at least a vital organ/artery had been hit if not her brain.

I think it’s a horrid image, but we don’t linger on it.

Aside - blood only pumps that fast out of you if you are shot somewhere life-threatening. Which Beth was not. If you were shot on the edge of your shoulder I also do not believe you would go instantly still/unconscious? That was done to make us think it was a head shot.

A shoulder shot, I imagine, would mean a responsive scream, falling down yes, writhing in pain, but not instant incapacitation.

So that is not what would happen with a shoulder graze shot anyway. But they want you to believe she's in real danger/dead, so they do these things that don't really line up with the actual injury.

(But it’s Good Girls and Rio has a dolphin smooth chest now. So I digress lol)

What I'm trying to say is while I hate the way Rio's suffering was filmed and reveled in by the framing, he got shot three times in the torso and would have been suffering terribly like that.

Beth got grazed in the shoulder. If they focused/zoomed in on her any more than they did it would make it clear it was not a dangerous shot and undermine the shock factor they were going for/the dream sequence that follows. The only reason the dream sequence works (for others, not really me) is because we are scrambling to play catch-up. We are like ??? heaven??? dead??? time-jump after massive injury????

I don't know about you, but Beth instantly slumping said head-shot to me when it first aired and I literally cartoonishly gasped

Then in the dream there was a shoulder shot patch. Which fine. But you just wouldn't bleed out like that that fast from a shoulder wound. Like yes you would bleeeed but there were cgi pints of blood oozing out of Beth and yeah no lol she would go to hospital for losing that much blood not have a smudge of blood on her shoulder, a smudged piece of white gauze on the wound and “okay get some bed-rest”

Also she was shot on the edge of her left arm, which, in the initial post-shooting shot, her left arm is completely in view and fine. The blood is shown coming from somewhere else entirely. So yeah. Continuity!

But yes. I totally get you. There is an imbalance with the way Rio’s shooting was handled and the other violent scenes on the show. But that 4x16 moment I think was supposed to make you shocked and maybe believe it was a head-shot, so focusing on her more in any way would show you that she was actually, basically okay.

#asks #nbc good girls #gg 4x16 #Welcome to my TAY talk #gg s4 #i really dont understand how she went instantly unconscious from a shoulder graze shot lol #or how she was out long enough from a shoulder graze for the paramedics to show up #ruby got shot in her leg #and barely moved?#and it was close to an artery #basically anyway this show has never done wounds or stuff accurately we been knew #but with Beth's shooting #they can't show her suffering cause it just makes it obvious it was 'death' fakeout and she's okay #and if they had tried to make a shoulder shot seem as violent as the 3 shots to the chest Rio took #that would REALLY not have made sense #gg concrit #i guess

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elucubrare · 6 years

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Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Ballade of the External Life

And children will grow old with deep eyes, That know nothing, grow old and die And all humanity will go its way.

And fruits will grow sweet from their bitterness And fall down below like dying birds, And lie there for a day, and rot.

And always the wind wails, and always We hear and speak many words And feel desire and fatigue in our limbs.

And roads run through the grass, and cities Stand here and there, full of torches, trees, lakes – Both menacing and deathly withered.

Why were they built? And why do they not Resemble each other? And why so uncountably many? What profit laughter, tears, and aging?

What use is this game to all of us, Who are so wholly and forever alone, And wander, seeking no destination.

What use is it to see the same multitude of things? And yet he says much, who says “evening,” A word from which thought and sorrow pour

Like harsh honey from the hollow comb.

trans. me, a while ago

#hugo von hofmannsthal #guess which stanza i don't really get!#anyway contrast 'he says much who says 'evening'' with 'are we only here to say 'house etc'#poetry #translation #german linked in title #i welcome concrit #traduttore traditore

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years

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REDACTED verse - Aggro makes everything better

Prompt: Any Fandom | Any Characters/Pairings | Taking a nap together on the couch

Word Count: 1,016

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Milo/Sweetheart with Aggro as a special cameo!)

Rating: G

Triggers: NA

Summary: After a long day at work, what better way to unwind by cuddling with your pet cat? Oh, Milo can join too, Sweetheart's supposed.

ConCrit: Y

Darling's oneshot was a little heavy on the angst, so I want to focus on writing something light and fluffy for this round!

"Milo? I'm home!"

Sweetheart returns home when the late afternoon sun paints the dark aqua walls of the living room with a warm, orange tinge. As they closed the door behind them, the noises and chatters of the outside world tapered off.

The silence of the apartment greets Sweetheart.

"Huh. Guess Milo is still at work." Sweetheart murmurs and throws their keys into the bowl on top of the shoe racks before switching on the lights.

Dahlia has been getting colder lately; time has moved them all into another season, Autumn. It might have taken another step into the future, but Sweetheart can't help feel as if they continue to remain in the past.

Sweetheart idly putters around the apartment to let their thoughts run before texting Milo to let him know that they're home.

So many things have happened in just half a year.

After that whole ordeal with the Shade, Sweetheart's life intermingled with Milo until they became lovers, and it wasn't long before they moved in together.

Sweetheart never thought domestic bliss suited them well.

Meeting the Shaw Pack as well as the Mates of said Pack members had been an incredible experience. The Mates were very welcoming; especially Angel and Babe. They endeared themselves to Sweetheart very easily and quickly.

So whenever their boys are having their Pack meeting, Angel would gather the Mates to the patio while Babe quickly whips up pots of tea, coffee and snacks for them to enjoy.

During this little get-together, Sweetheart (and sometimes Sam) would be the star of the conversation. Since Angel and Babe are Non-Empowered humans, they love listening to Sweetheart's stories and adventures as a Magical Investigator of the Department.

They're charming and kind people. The ones Sweetheart are grateful to have as friends.

A low, sweet 'mreep' startle Sweetheart's musing; They blink and glance down on the floor. In the midst of wiping the dining table and kitchen counters, Aggro made himself known by weaving in between Sweetheart's long legs. Sweetheart smiles fondly when his tail wraps itself around their left leg.

"Hey there, handsome. Are you hungry?" They coo at Milo's furbaby.

Aggro meows loudly in confirmation before rushing towards his food and water bowls. When Sweetheart is too slow for his liking, he expectantly looks back and meow once more.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Sweetheart assures the cat and grab some cans of wet tuna from the upper cupboard. They crack the cans open and dump them all into the food bowl.

Without any seconds to waste, Aggro dive in. For an elderly cat, he sure has an active appetite.

And so, while Aggro is happily munching on his dinner, Sweetheart fills his near-empty bowl of water and finish up cleaning the rest of the kitchen. What should they have for dinner, they wondered. They got enough ingredients in the fridge to cook stir-fry noodles with veggies for four servings but would Milo be in a mood for something home cook?

Today is their date night, but he might be running a little late to head out to their usual bistro. What with the preparations for the E&E Games and all.

"I should probably text him if he has any plans tonight..." Sweetheart decided. They pad into the living room to wind down on the couch.

The moment they sink into the couch, Aggro runs towards Sweetheart and jumps onto the couch too. Sweetheart giggles when the cat tentatively climbs onto their chest and settle himself comfortably on Sweetheart's stomach.

"Will you hang out with me, Aggro?" Sweetheart asks while petting Aggro's head, their smile widens when the cat leans into their warm touch. Aggro slowly blink his eyes at Sweetheart and trills, much to their delight. Their voice drops to baby talk as they scratch underneath Aggro's chin. "You will!? Milo might call me his Sweetheart, but you're definitely mine, Aggro. Aww, who's a good kitty? You are, handsome!"

Cuddling with Aggro on the couch after a long day of work melts the tension and stress on Sweetheart's shoulders like butter in the middle of Summer. It helps that Aggro is such an even-tempered cat too. Some pets near the butt and a few rubs on his head make Aggro one happy Ragdoll.

It's only when Aggro starts to yawn and curl himself into a loaf that Sweetheart begin to feel sleepy too.

So after shooting a quick text to Milo, Sweetheart cuddles with Aggro a bit longer before sleep claims them both.

After a whole afternoon napping with Aggro, Sweetheart wakes up to a gentle shake on their arm and an exhausted yet happy Milo leaning over them. "Hey, Sweetheart. Aggro keeping you company, huh?"

Said cat's ears and tail flickers in response but otherwise remain as a loaf of bread on Sweetheart's stomach.

"Welcome home, Milo." Sweetheart sleepily greets Milo. When he leans closer for a kiss, they oblige him.

"Thanks, Sweetheart." Milo's heart jumps, seeing how both his Mate and cat are so comfortable together. It's a wholesome sight to return home to. "Got your message a while back. Do you think you're still up to have our date night, or do you want to take a rain check?"

Sweetheart ponders for a moment. "I'm good. Give me a few hours to get change, and we can go." Sweetheart replies with a big yawn.

It isn't difficult for Milo to assume that his Mate had a long day. So an idea suddenly comes to him. "Scoot over. I want to join in on this cuddle session too."

While Sweetheart does as Milo requested, Aggro protests. He jumps away from them when Milo lies down on the couch beside his Mate; it's a tight fit, but they manage. Especially after he wraps his arms around Sweetheart and pulls them close to his chest.

"We still got some time before the dinner rush sets in the bistro," Milo explains as they snuggle; he loves when Sweetheart starts to hum in content. "We can nap for half an hour, and then it's date night, OK?"

"Sounds like a plan."

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #sweetheart (listener)#milo

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