#just a quick lil thing here :^) kinda just jotted this one down
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Eddie goes shopping with you.
eddie munson x gn!reader, ~900 words
“Okay, now what do you think of this?” You hold out a crisp white button-down shirt.
“I think that’s great,” he says automatically.
“Eddie,” you sigh impatiently, “you’ve said that about every article of clothing we’ve seen today. I need like, an actual opinion.”
“That is an actual opinion.” He sounds offended that you might suggest otherwise.
“C’mon, I’m trying to look professional! You gotta help me.”
“I am helping!” Eddie holds up both arms to emphasize his point — he’s laden with bags from the stores you hit earlier in your shopping venture, weighed down with the new clothes you’re purchasing so as to better look the part for your new job.
A small giggle escapes you in spite of your exasperation. “I told you you don’t have to carry any of those,” you remind him, folding your arms across your chest.
Eddie scoffs. “And what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you haul this crap around all day?” He shakes his head, dark curls tumbling about his soft face. “No way. Wayne raised me right, thank you.”
“Well, that he certainly did,” you admit, a rush of affection warming your chest. Unable to help yourself, you reach out and pinch his little cheek between your thumb and index finger.
He pouts at the gesture, pretending to be annoyed; but really, a thrill shoots through him at the brief moment of contact. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for you to be touching him always.
But it’s not like that. Not for you two.
Eddie tells himself that it’s okay, that he’s accepted it, he’ll content himself with daydreams and fantasies as he always has —
“Do you think black looks classier, though?” You’ve turned back to face the clothing rack again, thoughtfully fingering the silky fabric of a dark shirtsleeve. Your eyes narrow. “Or is it almost too formal?”
Eddie blinks dazedly, then shrugs. “I dunno. I wear black all the time, no one’s ever put me up for best dressed.” He frowns. “I suppose it’s a little different when it’s a Metallica t-shirt, though.”
You poke him playfully. “Or ripped jeans.”
Eddie swats your hand away, heart leaping.
You snicker in response, then soften. “For the record, I do like the way you dress. It goes with your whole thing, y’know?” You motion towards him vaguely, hands waving up and down his figure.
“My thing?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum. “The hair, the attitude, the music. Even your name. The whole thing.”
“What does my name have to do with any of that stuff?”
You shift your weight from foot to foot as you think about how to word your answer, tongue poking ever so slightly out of your mouth — an unconscious imitation of the face Eddie often makes when he’s focusing. He swoons a little when he realizes that you’re picking up some of his habits.
“I mean, if I didn’t know who you were, and someone told me to pick out the guy named Eddie Munson from a crowd of a hundred people, I could do it like that,” you tell him, snapping your fingers on the last word. “No one has ever looked more like they should be named Eddie Munson than you.” Your eyes cut over to his. “Does that make sense?”
Bewildered, Eddie’s eyebrows have shot up so high they’ve all but disappeared under his bangs. “…kind…of?”
You pat his shoulder, amused. “Don’t worry about it. Just look at the shirt.”
Obediently, his gaze flits back to the top. You smile expectantly, and he works to offer some sincere judgment.
“Um, it looks comfier than the white one? Not as starchy.”
You nod sagely. “True.” You examine it more closely, a flicker of uncertainty clouding your features. “Do you think it’d look okay on me?”
Of course he does. He thinks you look nice in everything. In your pajamas, in your dressiest formalwear — it doesn’t matter. He never wants to hold you any less. To him, you’ve always the most beautiful person in the world. Whatever you happen to put on your body is irrelevant.
But this is the whole point of him accompanying you; he practically begged for you to let him tag along, swearing that it would be fun and that he’d help you. You’d been a smidge embarrassed at first, certain he’d grow impatient with your indecisiveness and bored with the constant vanishing into dressing rooms, but you seem comfortable now, letting him tote your bags around and asking for his advice. He hopes you’ll take him again next time, and then the next time, and then again after that…
“Yes, I do. I think you’d look really wonderful,” he finally answers. “You look incredible in everything you wear. Honest. You don’t need to worry about anything you buy today.”
Your eyes shine, a bashful smile spreading across your lips. “Really?”
“Of course,” he replies, face reddening. “You — you could wear a potato sack and make it look good, frankly.”
You laugh. “Yes, I’m sure that would be very flattering on me.”
“Hey, I think you could rock it.” He knows you think he’s teasing you, but he means it. And he’ll tell you again, and again, and again, until you believe him.
He’s got nothing but time.
#just a quick lil thing here :^) kinda just jotted this one down#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson reader insert#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x gender neutral reader#eddie munson x gn!reader#lovesick!eddie#eddie x you#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic
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Ougonten: Registry of Dragons Part One
Registry of Dragons: Part One
Winter
Mika: Oof… Phew… Thanks a bunch, Shiratori-kun. Fer now let’s take a lil breather right here.
Aira: Good idea. This luggage is surprisingly big so I’m a little tired.
Mika: Sorry, I don’t mean t’ trouble ya like this.
I thought I could take home all ma personal belongings from the handicrafts club before I graduate, but it’s a lot more than I expected.
Aira: No it's okay, I have some free time anyway. Rather, Kagehira-senpai’s treasured works of art really are a sight to see!
Besides, since we came back together I got to hear a lot about the inside story of “Machina”.
For an idol otaku, I couldn’t have been happier♪ I’m completely satisfied!
Mika: I feel better when ya say stuff like that. I feel bad that I can’t do anythin’ t’ thank ya fer helping me out though…
Aira: I could talk to Kagehira-senpai about “Machina”, I’ve already received more than enough thanks!
I’m still overwhelmed just remembering that wonderful universe…
Mika: Ahaha.Don’t praise me so much. I feel like yer gettin’ carried away, especially since it’s about me.
Aira: No way! From my point of view, I can’t say enough.
That’s right! The “Machina” live was great, but the “test world” before that was just as amazing.
Mika: Eh!? S-Shiratori-kun, Ya know about the “test world”!?
It’s just that, ya shouldn’t know unless ya were logged into the virtual world.
Aira: Ah, I didn’t see it firsthand! I saw a video.
Someone who recorded the event posted it via SNS.
I was so frustrated when I found the video. I wondered why I couldn’t watch Valkyrie’s heroic image firsthand.
Itsuki-senpai and Kagehira-senpai’s image at the time… Even remembering it now I can’t help but start to cry.
The two of you were truly like Gods, looking down on everyone from the heavens to stop the end of the world!
Kagehira-senpai’s innocence of saying “Art is an explosion!” While making money rain down like water was another highlight!
Mika: I-It’s gone viral!?
Aira: Yep! I watched it so much I thought I was gonna burn a hole in my smartphone!
Mika: Don’t look at me like that! I think yer really gettin’ carried away there!
Uh… I guess I really overdid it by scatterin’ that money. This is my usual punishment.
Aira: No way, really it was a good thing, wasn't it?
I love Kagehira-senpai in that scene so much, I couldn’t help but share my thoughts on SNS.
Kagehira-senpai’s image at the time was really sparkling, like money–
Mitsuru: (Tiny voice) Mikanii-chan should be in this room. I’ll sneak in and investigate…
Mika: Ah, Mitsuru-kun. Welcome back~ What’re ya doin’ sneakin’ around?
Mitsuru: Uwah!? Mikanii-chan, were you still in the doorway?
Aira: Ah, sorry! Come to think of it, we've been chatting in the doorway this whole time.
Mika: Nnah~ We’re gettin’ in the way of people who wanna come in later. Sorry, Mitsuru-kun. Ya surprised me.
Mitsuru: I-It’s fine! I’m going back to my own room now, so you two just have fun chatting here~!
Mika: Eh, Mitsuru-kun!?
…He’s already gone. He came t’ this room, so I wonder if he had some kinda business t’ take care of.
Maybe I said somethin’ t’ hurt Mitsuru-kun’s feelin’s
Aira: Hmm… Didn’t he seem a bit too jumpy?
In any case, it’s not good for us to keep standing here. We’re gonna end up jumpscaring anyone else who wants to come in, just like Tenma-senpai.
Mika: Yup. And I gotta bring all this luggage up to ma own room.
Aira: That’s right… But first, let’s relax a little and have some tea. Even after that it won’t be too late to carry your luggage.
Besides, I wanna talk to Kagehira-senpai a little more!
Mika: Right. In that case let’s get some nice hot tea brewin’♪
Mitsuru: Phew… That was close. I almost got caught by Mikanii-chan.
But, I still got to know more about Mikanii-chan! I better jot this down real quick.
“Mikanii-chan was a nice God who liked to stand and talk with his friends”
Hmm… I guess this alone still isn't enough~
Al~right. I’ll find out even more about Mikanii-chan’s Godly qualities!
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stealing their clothes | mikey, draken, mitsuya.
MIKEY: would probably be the one who first tells you to do so. absolutely loves it when you wear his clothes, especially when you wear his hoodies or jackets since he mostly loves wearing those after you've worn them. the first time he probably realized he liked seeing you in his clothes was when you two were going to be hanging out with everyone but needed to make a quick stop at his place to get something. mikey left you in his room and you were feeling a lil chilly that day so you put on the hoodie he had laying on his bed and told yourself you'd take it off once he got back.
"okay, y/n, i'm ready-" he stopped himself when he saw you. he loved oversized clothing, that much was already obvious, but seeing you in them made him feel... quite happy, actually.
you took his silence as his disapproval and went to apologize for using it without his permission and went to take it off before but he stopped you then, and that was the start of it.
he would probably buy a whole new shirt or hoodie too and make you wear it immediately but you'd refuse because hello?? he needs to wear them first, that's the point of you stealing his clothes in the first place!
"y/n, please!"
"mikey, no."
DRAKEN: you don't normally borrow from him because at first, you weren't sure if he'd be okay with it. it's kinda funny actually, because he really did wonder a lot about how would you look like if you wore something of his. you see, ken is... well, he's really tall. so automatically, if you wore something of his (doesn't help that most of his clothing was also kinda loose on him as well) it'd be massive on you.
he thought it'd be a cute sight though.
so eventually, he started leaving hints here and there. he'd leave his hoodie or haori near you whenever you two were hanging out or something, and in turn, that made you curious as to what would it be like if you wore it. it may have taken a while, but eventually, it came to this; you not really taking anything of his except for one thing ever now and then, and he absolutely loved it and didn't particularly mind that he wouldn't be wearing it.
he loves it when you wear his haori. sure, it's his signature article of clothing and all, but something just ignites in him when he realizes just how damn good you look with it. it was quite big on you, so it reached around your thighs, but he thought it matched.
MITSUYA: we need to get something straight and that's; he'd most def enjoy making clothes for you. oftentimes while he's sketching a new design or just thinking of what to make next, you're often who he pictures while designing female clothing.
"y/n would look cute in this." he'd think, and jot down the idea to get back to it in his spare time. borrowing clothes from mitsuya wasn't all that unusual, and it started with coats and jackets and such since hello, his sense of fashion was impeccable!
but it didn't stop there, no, this was where it was his favourite; the both of you together, preferably in his room (because all his materials are there), him fixing something up for you, while you lounged around in his room, and most times, you'd be huddled up in one of his sweaters of wrapped around his blanket. after all, you loved watching him work anyway, and as for mitsuya, he'd be really happy in these moments. he'd be doing what he loves to do, and all he had to do was look up and there you were
#[ ii. juno’s works ]#tokyo revengers#tokrev#tokyo revengers x reader#mikey sano x reader#manjiro sano x reader#mikey sano#mitsuya x reader#draken x reader#tokyo revengers fluff#mikey x reader
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Words Upon Your Skin - Ch. 3
AO3
Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4
20 Minutes Earlier - Gotham
Damian wasn’t technically disobeying his father. Batman had told Robin that they couldn’t follow the suspects during the day because their suits were too noticeable in the daylight, nobody said anything about Damian. So, dressed in the most generic get-lost-in-a-crowd he owned, Damian tailed the two men.
The GCPD had asked for Batman's help to bust up a human trafficking ring that had brought in hundreds of down-on-their-luck girls from other countries. According to the files Gordon gave the team, the men ten paces ahead of Damian were part of the group behind everything. All Damian had to do was follow them long enough to find out any useful information but so far the only thing these two had done was eat at a shitty diner then walk four blocks down the street.
Looks like this is going to talk a while. The thought had barely crossed his mind when Damian saw the men duck into an alley. Shit. He picked up his pace, he couldn’t lose them now. He slowed just as he reached the corner and stopped to carefully peek around, As soon as he spotted the suspects standing halfway down the alley, having a conversation with a new person, he knew he’d most likely hit the info jackpot. A quick glance around and Damian found the perfect hiding spot. Crouched as low as he could get, Damian dashed to the side of an overflowing dumpster, One of the men turned just as Damian was out of sight. If he was a spiritual person he would’ve thanked whatever God of Luck that was smiling down on him in that moment. He breathed silently and waited for the conversation to continue.
“So, like I was saying,” one of the men Damian was originally tailing spoke, “the boss wants everyone there by 11 tonight.”
“Damn, I really hate the docks,” another commented, “the salt in the air makes everything feel sticky.”
Damian heard a smack echo against the brick walls.
“Suck it up and stop being a lil’ bitch,” and there was the third. “We’re gonna make bank off of this shipment, I heard there’s a couple French ones this time around.” the first let out a low whistle.
“Where’s the cargo being unloaded this time?” the second asked.
“Jeff lined some pockets to keep the dogs from sniffing around Pier 5.”
“Good going Jeff!”
Yeah, good going Jeff, Damian thought. Too bad I just have to bring Titus. It was time to get out of there, Damian had all the information they needed for a Batfam raid. He had just started backing up when a fourth voice sounded from behind.
“Looky here boys!” A large hand lifted Damian off the ground by his hood. With lightning fast calculations, Damian determined it safer to act as non threatening as possible. “Y’all had yourselves an eavesdropper!”
Time to lay on the act.
“L-look I barely heard anything,” he stuttered. “I was just passing through and didn’t want you guys to see me.”
One of the original two stepped forwards, “C’mon, man,” the one that doesn’t like ocean air, Damian’s mind supplied, softer than the others, “let the kid go. Some Gotham street kid ain’t gonna hurt us none.” The behemoth holding him grunted and started to lower Damian to the ground but as soon as his shoes touched down the voice behind him sounded again.
“Don’t ya think he looks kinda familiar?” All four men examined Damian’s face a little closer. One of them took out a phone, typed something quickly, then turned it around for everyone to see. And sure enough, there was Damian’s own face staring back at him from the screen. Shit. I’m never going to hear the end of this from those idiots at home.
The one with the phone chuckled, “We just bagged ourselves a Wayne!”
Damian had to think of a plan to get away without letting these criminals know that he was any kind of actual threat, so kicking their asses and running wouldn’t work, especially since they knew who he was. His brain was going rapid fire through possibilities as the men around him discussed what they wanted to do, getting increasingly agitated.
“All I’m saying is that Brucie will pay a pretty penny to get one of his brats back.”
“And I’m telling you that we don’t want to get that kind of attention.”
“We can’t just let him go though, who knows what he heard!”
“Guys, guys,” the one still holding Damian spoke in a smooth, calm voice, “it’s simple.” Damian felt the man shift a little. He’d barely gotten a look at the syringe in the man’s hand before there was a sharp pinch in his neck. It felt like ice was coursing its way through his veins. The shock of it kicked his instincts into high gear and Damian twisted out of the grip on his hoodie. Whatever was in the syringe was fast acting though because his knees had collapsed beneath him as soon as his weight wasn’t supported by the man.
Damian finally got a good look at the guy that was holding him when the man knelt down and grinned into the teen’s face and started in on the stereotypical villain monologue.
“See, Lil’ Wayne,” he held up the now empty tube in his hand, “this stuff here is what we use on the girls to knock ‘em out. Super quick and causes memory loss.”
Damian could already feel himself losing consciousness. Fuck. He had to force focus back on the new bane of his existence.
“Side effects include headaches and heat flashes. And you won’t remember the last 30 minutes.” He stood and took a step backwards. “Nice meeting you. Wish we could’ve chatted longer.”
The men laughed and started walking away, Damian glaring at their backs until his vision started to darken.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he lost the ability to stay sitting up. This was going to be for nothing. I have to find a way to remember. Then an idea struck. He used the last of his strength to get the pen out of his hoodie’s pocket and shove a sleeve away from his wrist, exposing just enough skin for a short message. He was only able to jot down the basics; When, where, and that they needed a canine sense of smell.
With the last ‘S’ written Damian succumbed to the drug.
***
It was the ringing from his phone that finally brought Damian back into the waking world. He groaned at sat up, rubbing his aching temples. What the hell happened?
The phone in his pocket went off again, the sound making his headache even worse. He answered without even looking at the caller ID.
“Yes?”
“Where the hell are you and why haven’t you answered us before now?” his father’s voice came from the speaker. He examined his surroundings. Dirty dumpster in the middle of some alley.
“I’m not completely sure,” he admitted, “it appears I was drugged.”
“You were-” his father started. Damian could tell his father was trying to calm himself down so he waited patiently. “Just turn on your locator and one of your brothers will pick you up.”
“I hope it’s Grayson,” Damian said as he pushed the special button on his phone “I don’t want to hear Todd’s comments until this migraine is gone.” He stood and started walking towards the street.
“Did you at least find anything useful?” his father sighed. With the phone still pressed against his ear Damian checked himself over for any kind of notepad or scrap of paper. He was about to tell Bruce that it had been for nothing when he noticed the edge of ink on his wrist. He held the phone between his ear and shoulder then tugged his jacket sleeve to expose the sloppily written message.
“Yes, father,” Damian said with a smirk. “We’ll be needed at Pier 5, 11 o’clock tonight. We should bring Titus to help find the girls.”
“I’m not happy with you,” Bruce started, “but this might have saved them. I’ll see you back at the cave.” The call ended with a click.
Damian pocketed his phone and waited.
He glanced back down at his wrist and caught a glimpse of another message further down his arm. A quick tug revealed more writing but this was different. Instead of the ink on the surface of his skin, this seemed to be coming from within...and in French.
“ ‘I’m happy to finally talk to you’,” he translated out loud, “ “I hope we can talk more after this. I’m not going to ask why you had not written before now but just know that I’ll be here for you if you ever need someone to talk to.’ “
Holy shit, I have a soulmate.
To say Damian was stunned would’ve been an understatement. He silently cursed his habit of wearing long sleeves. He could have known about his soulmate’s existence ages ago but anything they might have wrote him before went ignored because of the stupid barrier of fabric.
Wait, why am I upset? I never needed someone.
The roar of a motorcycle approaching snapped Damian out of his downward spiral. And just his luck, Jason Todd was the driver. He yanked his sleeve all the way down and stepped out to meet his most annoying brother.
Todd pulled to a stop right in front of Damian and tossed him a helmet. “Heard you got into some trouble, Demon Spawn,” he laughed as Damian caught the sleek protective gear. “C’mon, B is waiting.”
Damian grumbled as he slid the helmet over his head, there was too much to do tonight for him to think about his surprise soulmate. Of course the afternoon that he was drugged then discovered that he had a soulmate was the afternoon that Todd got to him first. Although, Todd was the only one of them without a soulmate, so maybe Damian could ask him what he would do if he suddenly found out he had one.
As he climbed on the back of the bike, Damian formulated a plan. Todd revved the engine then abruptly took off towards home.
Damian would never admit to having to “work up the courage” in any way, he just mentally prepared himself to ask Todd this question: “What would you do if you suddenly found out you had a soulmate?” The comms in the helmets made his voice crystal clear so there was no way of taking it back and accusing Todd of mishearing him. This was it.
Years of experience on the backs of bikes kept Todd from swerving in surprise, but the wheel did stutter for a second.
“Are you asking for curiosity’s sake or is there a reason behind this?”
“You are not to tell the others,” Damian hissed. “Not until I finish planning what to do.” Todd nodded his agreement to Damian’s terms.
“At some point before I fell unconscious, I was able to get some useful information on the human trafficking operation. The suspects must have told me that the drug they’d given me causes memory loss because I wrote the info on my wrist.” Damian paused as they turned a corner. “When I woke up I had more writing on my arm. Not in my handwriting and nothing like I would ever write myself.”
“How’ve you gone this long without knowing you had a soulmate?” Damian sneered at the question.
“You were with the League,” Todd’s shoulders tensed, “you know as well as I do how they view soulmates.”
“Yeah,” Todd grunted, “useless except as pawns to use against them.” Damian nodded.
“By the time most people get to the League, they’ve already proven not to have a soulmate. I’m the only person to have been born into the League that didn’t reach the part of my training where I would’ve hunted down my soulmate.”
They were both silent for a second, then Todd asked, “What would you have done when you found them?”
Damian was silent a moment longer.
“I would’ve killed them.”
NEXT
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So this post came across my dash a lil while ago started by @normal-horoscopes so naturally I started thinking on it. I started jotting down notes and ideas in my grimore and even made a quick sketch on an index card trying to process all this information. (Forgive mobile formatting this might be a long post)
First is how cities could be built upon such a weirdly shaped hole in the ground. Slopes would be enemy here, but I figured Hell is probably quite large which makes steep slopes not everywhere. More manageable slopes and ledges would be great for building structures on. Steep slopes could be used as buildings and structures can be carved into the hellside, but I can’t see it being avoided unless necessary. While writing I saw images of stairways and ramps carved into the hellside as a means of getting from place to place. I thought of the sides and ground being like a really red earthy clay, kinda tying into Normal’s idea of blood and soul infused ground and plants. These slopes could also explain the capture of these bodies of water like substance. Whether it be like a underground resivoire of water or a stream coming in from somewhere, it’d have plenty of places to collect. (Side note, at least one of these bodies is probably used as a hot springs and you can’t change my mind on that)
Also note how a top-down view gives the impression of multiple circles of demonic cities. It ties into the circles of hell idea pretty well.
Next came the prompted question of the purpose of the Counts and Marquises that were mentioned. I figure the dividening up of land is more for political management purposes, like states or provinces. Just easier to narrow down areas for mantence and simplicity’s sake. As for the Marquises, their lands are the top of that bell as it that’s where Hell ends. I figure the territory outside of that boundary might house other entities both in the physical and metaphysical plane Hell borders. This would give the Marquis an additional duty of knowing and managing who comes in and out and all that jazz.
As for the demonic cities present, I couldn’t tell you what the architecture would look like. I would assume it would be mostly made out of clay and stone like materials. The cities would literally be on and in the hellside, and I can see it be lit up by fire and maybe a magma like substance. I can assume and say in good confidence that these cities likely are probably by some sort of road or tunnel for ease of going around. Despite me thinking the hellside wouldn’t be great for carving out for large buildings, it’d probably be great for manageable tunnels and caverns to get around.
These cities are most for the residents of Hell. Demons staying and making home there, but I also subscribe to the theory that sinners are prisoners in Hell. It’s likely that they’re not closed to the larger living areas of town, but put elsewhere. They’re tortured by demons who are comfortable doing that but also give space for the demons that are simply there to chill for a bit without the whole damnation thing going on. Hell is also a home for these demons so I don’t think everywhere is going to be the screams of the damned scenario.
Finally, the biodiversity proposed. Ngl it stumped me for a bit. I never considered much biodiversity in hell, I just considered it a hot pit in the ground with the occasional fire and magma, making it too dim for most plants. But then I realize that on Earth there’s a plethora of plant life adapted to certain tough areas so it’s likely true for metaphysical areas as well. Plus, Normal mentioned the concept of them being based in/fueled by blood and souls which is a viable asset to fuel this odd life. So I looked into the real life plants in harsh environments to find parallels that I could use in Hell.
The soil it’s built on has traces of the damned souls, withering away from their torture. Leafy plants are by the top of Hell, collecting energy of whatever light and other energies are dappling in through the top. Shade loving plants under that fuel off the blood in the land and only need the minimal light provided by the hellfire and glowing cracks of demon magic in the walls. Large plants grow around the water like bodies. Mushroom like fungus grow out of the sides, nourishing off the damned souls and demonic energies building in the area. Perhaps some grow huge and demons can built on top of them. In short, biodiversity seems more plausible now that I’ve thought about it some more. Definitely makes me think of Hell in a new light, ought to draw it sometime.
Anyway, that’s my thoughts and studies on Hell. Seems cool.
#long post#how do i tag this#witchcraft#Hell#demonology#satanism#luciferianism#hell studies#magic stuff#magic studies#demons#demonolatry#demon stuff
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what is the worst ooc interaction you’ve had? is there a rule/guideline you can’t stand? what is your favorite experience with shipping? what is your worst experience with shipping?
like a true clickbait hoe i’ll leave all the t under the cut !! [ send me ooc ask memes !! ]
what is the worst ooc interaction you’ve had? oooo f !! i’ve stayed clear of ooc drama ( i think ??? ) but i’ve had several interactions w ppl that has left me feeling … uncomfortable to say the least, one of them just a couple months ago actually oop ! it was a classic case of them shoving fcs and names in my face and taking control of my character which is such a turn off for me personally. that might just be me being easily weirded out, but if i want suggestions or help choosing i’ll always ask for it, other than that it just rubs me the wrong way for some reason. ANYWAY — they proposed doubling up which i agreed to, but it was sooo fucking obvious that my f character was just supposed to be background noise pretty much, which didn’t sit well with me at all. it’s totally cool to have favorite ships, ig that’s just natural ( i’m guilty of that myself ), but just blatantly ignoring one ship bc ur thirsty ??? nah sis. for someone who genuinely enjoys creating and developing and connecting with all my characters i honestly can’t relate to what seems like someone making up ocs for simply doubling up and to put all their time and energy into one of the ships without the feeling of guilt. i see through that bs and it’s just ….. big yikes.
is there a rule / guideline you can’t stand? not rly ?? i mean sometimes i’ll get annoyed by silly things like cancel culture regarding fcs when ppl just ban faces left and right bc god knows even the most righteous ppl in this community used to be problematic at some point. but at the same time that’s just personal preference and i can’t rly argue w that asdkl. simply put — if i don’t fuck w people’s rules / guidelines i just ,, don’t plot w them.
what is your favorite experience with shipping? SO MANY !!! i have such a great set of friends / writing partners and i luv all of them w whole my heart ok !!! not to get all sappy on main but @lcmongrass has rly created some of the characters and ships i truly hold closest to my heart, my absolute favorites being dex & chris, violet & jesse, finn & melanie, izzie & mason, paige & dylan and jack & chrissy * clutches heart intensely * !! also if i could mention some dynamics while im at it paige & olivia, felix & trevor and jack & olivia are the ones that make me laugh the most !! so a big shoutout to maren for making me fall so head over heels for every. single. one. of her characters ♡ @summerrobrts is rly also out here giving me the feels left and right huh !! we have so many plots and ships at this point and they’re all just giving me LIFE. we’re currently setting up our second ( 1!! ) mumu and i’m hella excited !! and i could never forget @dvisy for creating one of my absolute favorite ships and characters ever tbh. lacey & tucker just makes me feel some kind of way u kno ??? like their ( rare ) but soft moments makes my heart fucking jump out of my chest and the pure angst makes my heart hurt, but then there’s also those more snarky moments like lacey being a lil brat and tucker just being so fucking done w her that genuinely makes me laugh out loud asjks. i feel like i should probably shut up now but i can’t go on without mentioning the amazing @controlists bc as u know salem & joy and harlow & ezra owns my freakin ass !!!! playing tainted souls like salem is an actual Kink of mine and if i’m gonna be honest writing and exploring harlow as a character has been one of my favorite rp experiences so far though half the reason is probably how well you portray ezra like DAMN. creating the biggest mumu ever w @geminisrps ( seriously we need an award or smth bc that shit is COMPLEX ) and actually developing all sorts of pairings / dynamics and threads has been such a fun time, and @dumbinspo keeps breaking my poor heart with our amazing ships !! ♡
what is your worst experience with shipping? i honestly thought i didn’t have that many but now i’m trying to choose from a number of experiences lmao. i guess one worth mentioning is from my indie days ( rip ) when someone reached out saying they wanted to play one of my most wanted opposites against me, which naturally got me super excited, though i had to jot that down real quick as it was close to impossible to actually get some real plotting going. their character was just too above any plot or character if that makes any sense. and this isn’t me just reading into things, this person clearly stated their character was just simply too complicated and special for any type of relation ( which is also like yikes … i promise u they’re not ) UNLESS the plot would center mainly around their character while mine would basically just play a minor role helping the development of that character’s story asjks ew. i’m all about a good amount of brainstorming and throwing out ideas and spend actual time building the storyline but they were just ,, not having it and seemed straight up uninterested and annoyed by my ideas which for a second there had me wondering like ?? didn’t u approach me ?? asjkls. there’s definitely two sides to these kind of stories ( or more ) but that whole interaction just left me feeling like i was the one forcing my characters on someone which kinda sucked :–//. the gag is that similar stuff has happened since and in more recent times and im always just so ?? confused by it ?? END OF RANT.
#THANKS FOR LETTING ME RANT BIG TIME BOO#this was so much fun though ??? especially the favorite experiences part iG IM JUST FULL OF LOVE TODAY BB !!#lcmongrass#dumbinspo#controlists#geminisrps#dvisy#╰ ––– ooc » answered
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au august day 2
au august day 2: college for @auyeahaugust
as always, i made this way longer than intended. enjoy i guess.
Studying was hard.
Even harder, Marinette supposed, was running around the city of Paris in spandex at the wondrous age of twenty, catching articles on the size of her thighs and waist next to ones demanding the space trash age finally be done with.
“Honestly, who even thinks that Ladybug would look the same after six years of fighting crime? A lot of things have happened, people. Puberty happens,” she complains to Alya, textbooks strewn about them yet ignored. She throws her head back and chugs her coffee, the burn only fueling her anger.
“I feel you,” Alya comments, taking a cool sip from her frappe. “Rena Rouge hasn’t been getting lots of love either these days.”
“But Chat Noir is, of all things. I can’t believe it,” Marinette mutters. She picks up her pencil, tracing designs in the air as she continues talking. “He gets all muscly and lands ten Cosmo articles on how cool and strong he is. You and I suddenly get boobs and next thing you know, we’re shamed in those same articles. They don’t even let Chloé live much these days. I heard her ass was talked about on E! just the other day.”
“What? Jealous about how much love Chat’s getting?” Alya teases. She can’t help it, after all. The envy is practically radiating off of Marinette, filling the coffee shop they’re in with the stench of anger.
“No,” she denies quickly, shaking her head.
Alya throws her a look, one that only her best friend could do.
“Okay, maybe a little,” Marinette admits, sighing. “But, can you blame me? If only I knew who he was, then I could have someone to really push all my anger on.”
“Wait, don’t tell me you two haven’t revealed yourselves yet,” Alya says. “It’s been six years!”
“And?”
“How is it that you still haven’t mustered up the courage to tell that cat? You won’t even let us tell you who he is!” Alya questions, eyebrow raised. Quicker than Ladybug or Chat Noir could have ever done, Alya, Nino and Chloé had been quick to share their identities amongst their friend group, even going so far as separately telling Chat and Ladybug. The two most revered superheroes, however, have been dodging a confession from each other from years, going so far as purposefully causing the timer on their Miraculous to start to leave the scene quicker.
“It’s different,” Marinette says. And in a way, it is. Chat’s always been different. To her, at least.
“Different my ass. If anything, you know how long he’s been ready to tell you, and I bet you can’t wait to tell him either.”
“Why don’t we get back to studying?” she suggests, trying to change the subject. “Our final is only in two weeks.”
“I’m letting this go for now only because we have to pass, but this is not over,” Alya says, picking up her textbook and opening it up to a random page.
“Okay,” Marinette sighs. She opens up a textbook of her own and reads a section aloud, hoping if she repeats the words enough times it’ll get stuck in her mind. “Although the atom is considered the smallest unit, the atom itself contains smaller particles. Those particles are identified as- “
“Quarks and leptons,” Adrien finishes, sitting down next to Marinette.
“Adrien!” Marinette exclaims, the corners of her mouth raising upwards. After six years, he still manages to bring out the all too familiar feeling of butterflies in her stomach. The only difference now from her fourteen-year-old self was she could actually hold a conversation now (although it did take some time to master). He smiles, lifting up his own copy of the textbook.
“Nino told me you two were studying, and I thought I could lend a hand.”
“You’re a saint,” Alya murmurs, eyes unmoving from her textbook. “We’ve been here for the past thirty minutes with nothing good coming out.”
“Well, what have you guys been doing? Taking notes? Making flashcards?”
“Well, er… kinda just gossiping,” Marinette admits, slightly embarrassed.
“Gossiping?” Adrien raises an eyebrow. “Care to share?”
“It’s a bit on the girl talk side. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to listen in,” Alya says. She grabs her cup of coffee and downs it, feeling the regular caffeine buzz come over her.
“Fair enough. I suppose you’ll let the girl talk rest for a while so we can get to some proper studying?”
“Of course,” Marinette says, beaming. “Do you think you could help explain a bit more on the whole quacks and liptons thing?”
“Quarks and leptons,” he corrects, laughing at how Marinette’s eyes widen. “Hand me a pencil, will you? I’ll write down the definitions for each one.”
Their hands brush a bit as she hands over a pencil, touch lingering for a second. He grabs a flashcard and quickly jots down the definitions, grabbing a highlighter and marking the words for extra measure.
“How can you memorize them so easily? It takes forever for me,” Marinette sighs out, propping her head on her hand.
“I can help you memorize if you want,” he offers, looking at her.
“What? Oh no Adrien, you have to study too!”
“We have all of the same general classes, remember? If anything, it’ll help me out when I become a teacher’s assistant next semester.”
“You’re too nice,” she says, not wanting to trouble him. His schedule is packed to the brim from classes to shoots, and God knows what else.
“I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Only if you let me buy you coffee during study sessions.”
“Deal! When are you free?”
Marinette closes her eyes, racking her brain around for anything coming up. Patrol tonight and Wednesday with Alya, a quick ceremony with Chat in the morning before class on Thursday, and she had planned to go shopping with Chloé and Alya on Saturday.
“I’m free on Friday all day? And I guess I’m free these next few weekdays, but only if we meet up maybe around lunch.”
Adrien frowns, running his schedule through his mind. Tuesday and Friday he had patrol with Nino, and Thursday was a ceremony with Ladybug, with his weekend coated with various photoshoots.
“Yeah, I guess lunch would be a good time for me as well. I guess I’ve been getting a little busy these days!”
“You could say the same for me,” Marinette says, laughing. A familiar blush is on her cheeks, and she feels the slightest shred of teenage excitement ring through her as she realizes she’s agreed to lunch. With Adrien. For the rest of the week.
“Should we get back to studying?” Adrien suggests. “Just point out anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”
“Will do!”
Alya closes her book silently, looking with increasing frustration at the two. God, did she hate how neither knew the other’s identity. It led to moments like this, where she felt tempted to beat up both of her best friends and just scream “How can you not see!?” in their faces. But, it also led to her growing fond of the moments. Even without knowing, Adrien and Marinette reflected their superhero personas outside of the suit with each other. Marinette was leaning slightly on Adrien’s shoulder to better view the words he was writing out, with Adrien scooting close enough so that his hair brushed against hers.
It was almost like they were destined to be together.
Slightly raising her phone, Alya takes a quick picture. Hey, she can’t help it. She’s been a journalist since she got her first phone. It’s like a reflex now to document things like this. Pulling up the groupchat, she starts typing, glad for once that Chat and Ladybug refused to get added in as an attempt to avoid sharing their identities to each other.
Paris’ Baddest Bitches
Alya: y’all we WON today
Alya: [image]
Chloé: holy shit
Chloé: mari is being BOLD
Nino: FINALLY
Nino: who do you think is gonna reveal their identity first
Chloé: mari
Chloé: I love adrien but he’s a lil bitch
Alya: ^^
Nino: true
Alya: but that’s not it
Nino: what else happened??
Chloé: we’re WAITING
Alya: THEYRE GOING ON LUNCH DATES ALL WEEK
Alya: FOR “STUDYING”
Nino: FUCK
Chloé: FUCK
Chloé: THEYRE 10/10 GONNA FUCK
Alya: I KNOW
Chloé: WE WON
Alya: I KNOW
Nino: tell adrien i want notes for the chem final
Chloé: oh shit same
Alya: already planning on taking pics of it xoxo
Chloé: you’re the only bitch in this house i ever respected
Nino: have i ever told you how much i loved you alya
Alya: always
Alya: gotta bounce they’re giving me LOOKS and want me to HELP and FOCUS
Alya: ugh if they don’t end up together at the end of this what’s the point
Nino: uh maybe a degree??
Alya: yeah maybe
#ml fic#fic#adrienette#adrien#ml adrien#adrien agreste#marinette#ml marinette#adrien x marinette#marinette dupain cheng#au yeah august#miraculous ladybug#tales of ladybug and cat noir#les adventures de ladybug et chat noir#alya cesaire
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s u r v e y : d a r b y b e l l e m o n t p e l l i e r
written in purple gel pen. it be like that.
basic information
FULL NAME: darby belle montpellier
PRONUNCIATION: DARH-bee bell mAHnt-pell-yer
MEANING: without envy
REASONING: darby belle was named after a beloved family dog who was tragically killed by an automobile the night before she was born. how… quaint. her mother insisted on adding “belle” to match her older sister, elody mae’s, “name flow”. her father never really approved, but he his second army deployment began just before her birth, so her mother went ahead and did it anyway.
NICKNAME(S): darby, darbs, darby belle, belle, fruit loop, the singer from pelagia, dee, db. puck ( only by her late father )
PREFERRED NAME(S): darby, darby belle
BIRTH DATE: march 3, 2001
AGE: 18
ZODIAC: pisces
GENDER: cisfemale
PRONOUNS: she/her
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual
NATIONALITY: american.
ETHNICITY: american. there are some french roots, way back, but they’re bastardized: her family pronounces their surname the southern way, not the french.
background
BIRTH PLACE: jonesborough, tennessee
HOMETOWN: jonesborough, tennessee
SOCIAL CLASS: upper-middle.
FATHER: eric montpellier. deceased march 2, 2014. suicide. gunshot wound to the head. ptsd resulting from military duty.
MOTHER: kenna mae montpellier. deceased february 22, 2007. housefire.
SIBLING(S): elody mae, legal guardian. 25. artist and interior designer. faceclaim.
BIRTH ORDER: youngest of two. elody mae is 7 years older.
PET(S): none. she gets the sniffles!
OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: n/a.
PREVIOUS/CURRENT RELATIONSHIPS: she’s been in a long-term relationship with clark beecher since the fall of sophomore year.
ARRESTS?: nope!
PRISON TIME?: nope!
occupation & income
SOURCE OF INCOME: darby’s band, pelagia., has paid gigs around town and in neighboring towns. they sold copies of their first ep, too.
CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: yes!! between her and elody mae, they make things work. darby loves music; she practially lives and breathes in song.
PAST JOB(S): she delivered papers for a lil’ while in tennessee. tagged along while elody mae biked.
SPENDING HABITS: darby knows how to find herself a bargain!
MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: her dad’s dog tags, which she keeps hidden under her pillow. some of his old navy blue sweaters. she throws ‘em on days when she misses him a little extra.
skills & abilities
TALENTS: musicianship. performing. songwriting. agile skating. playmaking. interpretive dancing. making her friends laugh. going cross-eyed for long periods of time. rolling her tongue.
SHORTCOMINGS: she can’t say no to anyone she loves. quick to blame herself for things she can’t control ( like her parents’ passings ). elody mae rubs her wrong a lot and it’s not her sister’s fault, but they’ll go several days at a time without talkin’ when things get tense. swallowing her pride: she’s stubborn.
LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, enough spanish to get by ( acquired from high school classes, but her southern accent kinda bleeds through? so kids in class always kinda smirk when she tries out the speaking exercises ).
DRIVE?: no. never learned.
JUMP-STAR A CAR?: no.
CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: no.
RIDE A BICYCLE?: nope. her dad never got ‘round to teachin’ her.
SWIM?: no. they never had a pool.
PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: countless. she sings, plays guitar, piano, drums, banjo.
PLAY CHESS?: she prefers checkers.
BRAID HAIR?: is the sky blue? yes.
TIE A TIE?: mhm.
PICK A LOCK?: nope, but that’d be cool!
physical appearance & characteristics
FACE CLAIM: natalia dyer.
EYE COLOR: bright baby blue.
HAIR COLOR: light brown.
HAIR TYPE/STYLE: down to her shoulders, curly. typically up in a ponytail or some kind of quick style.
GLASSES/CONTACTS?: nope.
DOMINANT HAND: right. she plays right wing. but she likes to cut food with her left.
HEIGHT: 5′0 even.
WEIGHT: 108 lbs.
BUILD: very, very thin. surprisingly muscular, though. not built like a typical hockey player but boy, does she command the ice. her strength, like… bewilders everyone. recruiters came to see her play this spring and fuckin’ lost their shit. this girl ?! captain ?! right wing ?! does she disintegrate when she’s checked ?!?!
EXERCISE HABITS: always movin’ and groovin’. darby loves going for runs. weight-lifting. playing pickup games with her boys.
SKIN TONE: very fair. freckled.
TATTOOS: none.
PEIRCINGS: she has her ears pierced but almost never wears earrings, due to rink rules.
MARKS/SCARS: some burn scars from the housefire that killed her mom in 2007, on the back of her left forearm/wrist and across her stomach. she’s really insecure about them and almost always wears long sleeves because of it. she also has a birthmark shaped like canada on the arch of her left foot. when they were alive and darby was very young, her parents used to joke that god put that mark there because he knew their daughter was going to be a hockey star.
NOTABLE FEATURES: her eyes. her tiny size. her laugh.
USUAL EXPRESSION: smiley, vibrant.
CLOTHING STYLE: long sleeve sweaters, jeans, vans. graphic long-sleeve tees –– she really likes the nature designs on patagonia ones, or cool/eclectic designs. converse. timberlands, leggings, and oversized sweatshirts. denim jackets. in the winter, she’s always bundled up because she runs cold. honestly? she’d sooner wear a hoodie and shorts in the summer than throw on a t-shirt. she does wear short sleeves, but mainly for team workouts and runs.
JEWELRY: she wears her father’s wedding band around her neck on a thin gold chain, always tucked under whatever top she’s wearing. her sister does the same with her mother’s.
ALLERGIES: strawberries. peanuts. bees.
BODY TEMPERATURE: she runs real cold. are you using that sweatshirt?
DIET: when elody mae cooks, darby eats well –– lots of pinterest recipes and plant-based meals. left to her own devices, she reverts to ease: poptarts, protein bars, almonds. sunflower butter and jam sandwiches. she typically skips lunch at school to write, or free skate, or sneak into the weight room with whatever team’s rented it out that period. she always snackin’ on pretzels.
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: insomnia, since her mother’s death. worsened with her father’s passing. i imagine it’ll get worse with her sister disappearing, too. her mild dependency on painkillers.
psychology
MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good.
TEMPERAMENT: sanguine.
ELEMENT: air.
MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: insomnia.
SOCIABILITY: she’ll talk to anyone and anything! she flits around west ham’s social sphere like it’s nothing.
EMOTIONAL STABILITY: sensitive. doesn’t hide things well.
PHOBIA(S): snakes. being stung by a bee. never being loved / never having the wherewithal to find it. not getting a hockey scholarship. emptying the medicine cabinet. not being able to call her dad’s cell to hear his voice. losing elody mae. losing everyone.
ADDICTION(S): painkillers. but she’s in denial.
DRUG USE: a little here ‘n there. if others are doin’ it.
ALCOHOL USE: about as standard as you’d expect, from a varsity athlete dating another varsity athlete.
PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: if provoked. she’s got a hockey stick and she’ll use it, if you threaten anybody she cares for.
mannerisms
QUIRKS: bites her bottom lip and rolls it between her teeth when she’s thinking. squints directly at the sun despite being scolded for it for years. latches on to friends’ arms as if the universe might tug them apart at any moment, and navigating the school parking lot is exhaustively complex –– like she might get lost; like she might lose them. calling instead of texting. sniffing peanut butter: she can’t eat it, but she loves how it smells. sleeping all curled up in a ball, on her left side, with the blankets tugged up tight against her chin. wearing beanies and baseball caps indoors. waking up early enough for church each sunday: getting dressed, beginning the walk across town, only to turn back halfway. running drills at the rink instead of attending lunch hour. jotting down lyrics on standardized tests. humming in school stairwells, when she thinks she’s alone. tapping her locker dial three times with her index finger before putting in her combo. wriggles her nose when she’s trying not to laugh. gaze always, always drifting to the nearest window. funky patterned socks. she has a pair with picasso.
HOBBIES: hockey. guitar, banjo, piano, drums. singing. songwriting. running, weightlifting. elody mae tried to get her into yoga, but her headspace is far too cluttered. making late-night ice cream runs to the local parlor, because she knows the owner and he’s always ready to give her a free scoop.
HABITS: tapping her fingers on flat surfaces. skipping meals when she’s stressed. texting thumbs-up emojis to avoid having to give an actual answer to “ how are you? ” . masking darker thoughts with game suggestions and silly jokes. deflection. wearing her father’s old army tees to bed, and sniffing them each time as if the laundered clothing might still hold onto even just a whiff of his cologne. falling for the wrong people. believing. letting her nail polish chip and chip and chip until all that’s left is a silhouette of pigment. biting her nails. midnight runs. pressing leaves into notebooks to capture moments for which she lacks the words. over-gifting outside her means, arguing with her sister about it later.
NERVOUS TICKS: biting her lip. not making eye contact. rubbing together her left index finger and thumb.
DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: honoring her parents’ memories. standing by elody mae. getting that hockey scholarship locked down, so her sister won’t have to give up more for her. making clark smile. oh, that boy’s smile.
FEARS: the dark. heights. being stung by a bee. losing everyone. elody mae might find out she kept their dad’s dogtags.
POSITIVE TRAITS: saccharine, musical, virtuosic.
NEGATIVE TRAITS: diaphanous, dewey-eyed, naive.
SENSE OF HUMOR: bubbly, giggly. she can find most things funny.
DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: no! her parents used to wash her mouth out with soap.
CATCHPHRASE(S): “ well, golly ! ” & “ i’ll be darned ! ” & “ who’d have thunk ? ”
favorites
ACTIVITY: making music, playing hockey.
ANIMAL: she loves bees. even though she’s terrified of ‘em!
BEVERAGE: water.
BOOK: twenty-thousand leagues under the sea by jules verne. her father used to read it to her at night, chapter by chapter. it inspired her band name: pelagia . it means the open sea.
CELEBRITY: david beckham. adam mcquaid.
COLOR: army green.
DESIGNER: she likes thrifting.
FOOD: pretzel sticks.
FLOWER: daisies.
GEM: amethyst.
HOLIDAY: new year’s eve. she loves getting to blow party kazoos in everyone’s faces.
MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: walking or running.
MOVIE: he wedding date. she’s a sucker for those stupid rom-coms. the mighty ducks. slap shot.
MUSICAL ARTIST: cigarettes after sex, stevie nix, amy winehouse, the band camino, daniel caesar, etc.
QUOTE/SAYING: “ honey, you got a big storm comin’ ! ”
SCENERY: big open fields with bright green grass, wildflowers.
SCENT: she doesn’t like candles, open flame. but she likes those lil’ air fresheners. eucalyptus, lavender, and peppermint calm her down.
SPORT: hockey !
SPORTS TEAM: the west ham centurions, varsity girls hockey. she’s biased. she also likes the bruins.
TELEVISION SHOW: bob ross specials. she used to watch ‘em all the time with her sister.
WEATHER: warm ‘n breezy.
VACATION DESTINATION: ontario, it looks so calm.
attitudes
GREATEST DREAM: make it big in the music industry. have that be her career.
GREATEST FEAR: she’ll lose more people she loves.
MOST AT EASE WHEN: she’s with clark. or making tunes.
LEAST AT EASE WHEN: she’s alone in the dark.
BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: selling out toad’s place for pelagia’s biggest show.
BIGGEST REGRET: the last she said to her dad wasn’t i love you.
MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: she punched a boy in second grade for calling her a wussy. and then his crying made her cry.
BIGGEST SECRET: she prayed to make a deal with the devil to bring her parents back and bartered anything he wanted. she feels like her father’s death is her fault.
TOP PRIORITIES: spending all the time she can with clark. lookin’ after tess, making sure grizz knows he’s being watched. taking care of elody mae, at least, as much as she can. securing that hockey scholarship for college. winning states. being a good captain. making music, and using that to help... mend.
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Dearest Nash, I've touched on this before in (I believe) in a discussion re: why some mainstream fics get oodles of notes while more original ones do not, *but* I wanted to get a bit more specific here. There are certain writers here whose writing has a definite vibe to it (if you will) that separates their work from others, and your name is one of the first that comes to mind. Bear with me, because trying to detail what makes your writing stand out is difficult while trying to articulate a Q
^ this is a gif with parts 2 - 4, just FYI
Hmmm… this is a bit of a brain buster. But I can answer it, and I think succinctly, maybe with a touch of that Spidey sense you mention:
Thank you for your inquiry, hope that helps!
I kid. But this is a brain-turner. And a characteristic which, like you say, ain’t limited to me. I’d honestly throw comedians under this umbrella, too, not because I’m necessarily gunning for a laugh every time, but because it’s pretty much their job to take a “basic” (a tenet or fact of life or present reality or whatever) and present the observation with a twist. I think of storyteller comedians specifically, your Patton Oswalt-s, Maria Bamford-s, Kathy Griffin-s, and John Mulaney-s.
So if I can sum up, assuming I’m tracking with you, what you’re more or less driving at with the “how” is this –> Is there anything beyond simply personality, or an auto-pilot thought cascade (for lack of better terminology) that contributes? Are there things someone could do/be proactive about, to perhaps cause this same sort of reaction to happen in their brain?
I think there just might be.
Folks reading this, let me ask you a question, and you cannot look it up:
What was the name of the Sherpa guide who led Sir Edmund Hillary up Mount Everest?
.
.
.
His name was Tenzing Norgay.
Nash, what in the name of the frozen corpse of George Mallory does this have to do with Lion’s question?
I shall tell you.
My father told me that fact when I was quite young, so young I legit couldn’t even ballpark my age for you. The context was that having little facts tucked away in your brain may come in handy. Not in a Jeopardy kind of way, more in a conversational way. I’ve no idea why the man thought the Sherpa guide who led Hillary up Mt. Everest would ever come up during a conversation with enough regularity to justify my knowing that fact (aside from him randomly quizzing me throughout my life) but hey, I guess it just did.
But speaking of Lil’ Nash, the situation for her was that she was the eldest of all the Nash litter by miles… like seven or eight years, I’m not bothering to check. So I had a lot of alone time, and my grandmother was my chief babysitter, so prior to kindergarten and then til I was in about second grade (so: all day long during the week, then every weekday after she picked me up from school), I was pretty much always at her house. Yeah, there were toys, but not a lot to do. And I’d read. I’d been reading on my own for a decent while, not because I was some prodigy but because my dad read to me *constantly* when Lil’ Nash was Itty-Bitty Nash, and it “took”. My mom also, every time she went to the grocery store always - and I mean always - brought back a book for me. It might’ve been an Archie comic—-
Mandatory #fuck the CW’s Riverdale tag
—-or a Babysitter’s Club, or Sweet Valley High, Judy Blume, Madeleine L’Engle, Zilpha Keatley Snyder, you get my point. Some small paperback. It would piss Dad off because he’s a cheap bastard and two buck books once or twice a month were really gonna cut into the savings [eyeroll] but also, in a way, because I’d kill it in a half day/a day. Wouldn’t put it down. After awhile, I started writing my own silly little kid stories, then - and this is where the creative writing love came about - I started writing soap operas for my Barbies. (When I was older - like, 5th grade? 6th grade, maybe? - none of my peers were still playing with Barbies, and I got made fun of when, at a sleepover, they saw my stash. And I was like - No, no, no. Those aren’t for playing. That’s my cast.)
Time went on, and when I was bored at post-church lunch/dinners, I would also read the old encyclopedias at my grandmother’s, the ones from the late ‘60s/early ‘70s that she had for my mom and my aunt. As I got even older and became fascinated with rooting through the boxes in gran’s basement, looking at all the cool old clothes, I stumbled upon my aunt’s collection of Whoa-Hooooo Shit There’s No Way My Grandparents Knew You Read These books. Those kinda Harlequin-esque ones, except my aunt’s tastes run close to mine, none were the same shtick with different covers, shmultzy-sappy romance, there was always some sort of intrigue along with the sexy times, and she also had, like, every legit V. C. Andrews (meaning: not the ones from the ghostwriter, this was way before her death) book.
What is my point? I read a LOT. Now-a-days, other than fanfic (which… straight up: I don’t read a lot of that, either. I peace out on probs 80% of it before the third-to-fifth paragraph. It’s gotta sell me fast, yo) I haven’t read fiction in probably, oh…. 12 years? I think the last ones were the first couple Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Wait, no! I lie! I read the 50 Shades books when I was traveling 2x/wk for a job about 4 years ago, and I needed the laughs. It worked. Oh my days, that woman can’t write. The screenplay might’ve been worse, it goes her, then Buckleming, then everyone else. It’s bad. In any event, past decade or so, it’s more historical stuff and true crime and science stuff and all that old fart jazz.
Okay, so that’s #1: Read. And not just anything, be well-read, and that doesn’t mean developing some level of expertise, by “well” I’m saying to cover the spread. You’re building your tool kit, is all. You won’t use most of it, but it’s nice to have options. You also don’t always have to get this stuff from reading now-a-days, because podcasts. Cover the spread there, too. Lemme look at my bookmarks….
[Spongebob narrator voice: A few moments later]
I’m back. Science - Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe; General current stuff without being news - CGP Grey’s Hello Internet; current events with shittons of pop culture, past and present - Greg Proops’ Smartest Man in the World; fun history stuff - The Dollop; entertainment stuff - How Did This Get Made.
#2: Keep a notebook with you and jot down turns-of-phrase that spark something in your brain - things you read on websites, on twitter, in articles, things you hear people say (real life, TV, movies, podcasts), and write it. Don’t snap a pic with your phone or make a note in your phone. There are studies behind this, I’m not hunting them down, you’ll just have to trust me, but there are, and it goes to being reflexive, a brain “muscle memory” thing, if you will. You’re not doing it to plagiarize, you’re doing it to dissect it, kind’ve like you did with the example you gave on me —> went from punch action to punch spiked with booze to a punch with a spiked gauntlet.
Which leads to #3: Mental dictionary. I have a large vocab repository, and it stems from the tons of reading - I stop and look up stuff if I either don’t know it, or it’s used in such a way that I think they’ve got it wrong and want to double-check that maybe there’s another usage I don’t know - and also stems from a drive to combat the (still fairly thick) deep South drawl I can’t kick, and not for lack of trying. But see, I couldn’t have whipped out that progression if I weren’t aware that one definition of “spike” is “to add alcohol to”, or of the common shtick in stories of spiked punch like at high school proms typically, or knew about the existence of spiked gauntlets / old school armor.
And I guarantee you that a good chunk of people didn’t really “get it”, and just thought “Nash Be Nashin’, that nutty gal”. So they “get it” on that level, but don’t Get. It., if you see what I’m saying. And that’s fine. Maybe it got something cranking in the back of their mind and it’ll hit ‘em in the middle of the night, or they’ll be watching Game of Thrones or something, see a gauntlet and be like “Oh goddamnit, I just got a throw-a-way one-liner from three years ago” and have a chuckle.
Related, re: looking stuff up and things that people “get”? I didn’t know fuck-all about Twilight, but it seemed of import to the folks around 5 years younger than me, the Nashlings wouldn’t shut up about it, so I got a good working knowledge of it. Same with Harry Potter, and through it I got to “know” J.K. Rowling, who I find to be an exceptional writer, so that was great, and I’ve watched the movies for the most part over the years at Christmastime, and I don’t give the first shit about what “house” I’m in, nor do I care about what Patronus I’d fart, but I have a working knowledge of what those are, and horcruxes and who Snape and Voldie are, you get my point. I can keep up. But to do it, I had to take the time to look it up. One thing I would not trade for gold is Michael Sheen chewing the goddamn scenery in that battle segment from the last Twilight movie. Have I watched the movie? No. But that scene is the shit. And that baby CGI is horrific on several subtle levels. And not-so-subtle. I’ve digressed.
Back to those notes: So if you’ve got these notes jotted, you might see something else and think “I feel like that could’ve been snappier…. why do I think that….” And you’ve got a resource at your disposal, that little notebook. Hell, jot that thing down - things you think could be done better. I have in many documents a highlight around chunks of scenes for my big dog story where it says in bold above or below “DO BETTER”. Meaning: there’s a better way to get from A to B, but I’m just not quite there yet. I’m pretty quick on the uptake and can crank out something snappy on the fly (like say, in CASPN chat or when banging out a short reply or thank you note) but there’s definitely times I gotta slap a DO BETTER on it and walk away til that snappy something-or-other light bulb goes off.
Here’s a recent one where I backtracked, matter of fact - that noir spoof thing I wrote? Along with my co-writer, Moscato? There was a line that I couldn’t hit with a good zinger, so I just said moments were going by like a fat hamster on a wheel, which is cute, but not really grooving with the setting/the vibe. Less tipsy, when I was correcting some inelegant formatting and a misspelling [sigh], I went “Oh! Why didn’t this occur to me last night? Right. Wine.” So the line is now about moments dragging like a rolling donut with a copper on its tail. Get it? The cop’s a fat ass. The donut-cop stereotype.
…….Fine, it ain’t my best, but it fits better. Moving on.
And this leads nicely into #4, and a specific tip I can impart - assuming you’ve got a passable-to-high level of vocabulary in your tool belt, practice messing around with making nouns into verbs, and twisting random stuff into descriptors and using bizarre words/things in metaphors/analogies. Like, I say “adulting” quite a bit. Ali - @littlegreenplasticsoldier - I thiiiink was writing recently about Sam being drunk, and he’s a tall wobbly Jenga tower on his last Jenga. Going back to the noir, pulpy detective style, try messing with the whole “S/he was like a ___ that ____”. Add on to stuff that’s well known - He was like a dog with a bone, if the bone was a ____ and he was a ____ and we were in a ____. (I have *nothing* in mind to fill those blanks, by the way, feel free to twist it into sumpin’)
What else…. okay, here’s a #5: In drafts, let yourself wander, and see what kicks out. It can be fueled by silliness or anger, but I don’t reckon you’re gonna get the “snappy” you’re aiming for if you’re down in the dumps and going full-court-press angst. The best stuff, IMO, comes from the space in between goofy and pissed, and that is The Land Of Snark. You can always re-style it to bend more dry or wistful should you need to, certainly, depending on the situation.
Have a sample of a primo Nash Digression that was fueled by ire in a recap from Season 12 (episode 19). I had said - RE: the random inclusion of the character Joshua, which still pisses me off because they burned a character that held massive potential for future stuff as he’d been shown to be the only angel with direct access to Chuck, so, y’know, that could never come in handy, like ever again in the series, right? - the following.
Mandatory pre-emptive #fuck Dabb
[Spongebob narrator voice] A few moments later —>
On god, I have no idea where that came from, and here’s where we go back to ol’ Spidey up there, because end of the day?
All that other stuff’s the foundation, sure, but there’s always gonna be the weird iggy, the thing that can’t be learned or taught, whatever the quirky synapse is that fires off in my/our brains. In my experience, it’s an ADD-ish sort of jam mixed with the Nostradamus effect. Meaning, (A) we’re at Level 10, rapid fire thought processing >50% of the time, and (B) throw out enough stuff for long enough, some of it’s going to stick. And I whiff it plenty. Multiple times in CASPN chat I’ve been like “Whoo, tough room” when something falls flat.
A specific example: @mrswhozeewhatsis - and I think you saw this, but anyone else seeing this may not have - gave probably the most fantastic analogy I’ve seen regarding the whole “getting it” thing, and while it was on the topic of meaty plots that get too far into the weeds (my specialty) and how it can lessen appeal to a broader audience, it still applies here.
She said “Sometimes, when I’m reading something of yours, I feel like there’s a joke I’m missing. It’s like watching Spaceballs without having seen Star Wars.” I say that to say - nobody’s gonna land references that cover the spread 100% of the time. And, y’know, fine. I figure maybe it’ll prompt someone to do a quick google for - well, let’s use Spaceballs. Most folks will no doubt get the Star Wars part, but maybe not Spaceballs. Maybe they’ll check it out, find something they enjoy. Or learn a new word. Or get a brainstorm for a story. Who knows?
Last tip: Don’t actively mimic anyone’s style. Much fail. And I don’t only mean because if they’re on a social Venn diagram with you, would likely recognize themselves in your stuff——
Takes a moment to wave to the peeps still trying with me! #bless your hearts
—–but because it’s fucking hard. I did it broadly on the noir thing, that’s not a hard thing, to homage generalities, but the way I’m messing with doing this on that silly Princess Bride series? Purposefully styling it like Goldman? It’s good challenging and all, and it is making it feel more in the groove with the book/movie, but I have to be in the right frame of mind or it’s like fingernails on a chalkboard, and when I have pushed it, then gone back, it’s sloggy, soggy garbage.
I say all that to say: it’s an amalgam of brain-wiring/personality, and world/life perspective(s), and knowledge acquired over time. The first just is; the second will evolve in myriad ways, maybe for the better, maybe for the worse; the last is the one where you/we have control, we can fill bucket after bucket of information, and the well won’t ever run dry.
Sorry this took so long. I kept adding and subtracting. This is the edited version, if you can believe it. Welcome to Nash Brain. 😉
#Dear Nash#becominglionhearted#Writing Advice#and / or#Writing Stuff#maybe#Writing Tips#unsure#we'll go with all of it#ah I know#Writing Style#that's the ticket#Queueby Dooby Doo#Dad's on a blog post and#he hasn't been queued in a few days
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Winwin- Fragile
Group: NCT- Winwin
Theme: Request- Badboy au: comes off as intimidating due to his silence and his looks but he isn’t a bad person + his shy crush approaches him
Type: One shot- fluff
Plot: You went through just another ordinary day at school until you found Winwin alone at the library where you decided to go talk to him.
*this sounds kinda stupid tbh but like it much better I promise lol
Stares burned into your skull as you made your way across the noisy cafeteria, holding your tray and past the tables that were all claimed. You found an empty seat with your small yet trusting group of friends so you rushed over to their side but making sure not to trip over anything on your way there that could be used to further humiliate your well-known clumsy reputation.
A breath of relieve escapes your lips as you sink into the bench, nestled safely between your friends. The fact that the school had gangs scares you half to death, especially the two well known ones; the black-leather jacket ‘gang’ and the blue-bomber jacket ‘gang’. They aren’t really gangs but there’s always so much tension between them that whenever anyone walks past them they always hold their breath in fear of breaking the tension. There’s this one guy in particular that always catches your attention, a guy with a face of an angel with dark, black hair, delicate features, and a jawline that could cut bread. Despite this, he’s the one who constantly burns holes into your head by staring so intently like you’re the only thing that matters and that you could disappear the next second if he took his eyes off of you for just one second. Maybe its the way his black leather jacket contrasts with his pale complexion or the fact that you’ve never heard him utter a single word but he makes you feel slightly intimidated since you can’t figure him out. Not that you plan to anyways, you’d have to get approval from his ‘gang’ first and you having the reputation that you have, the chances are slim.
“Y/N?” your friend calls out. “Are you staring at him again?”
“Huh, no. I... I was just lo.. looking at um-” you stammer.
“Aww Y/N has a crush.” another friend gushes, reaching out to pinch your cheeks.
“But he’s not good for you, he’s in a gang and we don’t want him to hurt you. It’s a tricky crush but that’s all it’ll ever be, just a crush. Don’t let your daydreams make you even more delusional than you already are,” the third friend scoffed.
You rolled you eyes and ignored her comment and carried on with eating your lunch. Even though you never talked to him before, you knew his name, Winwin. He was pretty well known since his gang was super protective over him and they won’t let anyone come near him, let alone talk to him. So why is he the one you like? Why do you like the one guy you just know you can’t get? And why is he always staring at you? Is there something on your face? Or maybe there’s something wrong with your outfit? Ugh what is going on with you?
The bell rings to signal the end of lunch which breaks you out of your thought bubble and reminds you that you have chemistry with Winwin next, which is your last class of the day. You take one last bite out of your sandwich, throw away your trash, and walk alongside one of your friends off to chemistry class.
You take your usual seat in the middle of the class and you spot Winwin in his window seat towards the back. He wears a smirk on his face or is that a smile, before you could give that another thought your teacher starts the class which causes you to divert your attention away from Winwin and toward the teacher. The class goes by quickly as you jot down notes on the electrical structure of atoms and look over your shoulder a couple times to notice Winwin’s head drooping out his hand that he used to prop his head up against. A small smile sits on your face as you finish up your notes. After 85 minutes the bell finally rings to dismiss class and you decide to head to the library to revise notes from another class since you don’t want to head home quite yet.
As you meet with your friends again, you notice Winwin was rooming through the aisles alone, looking rather confused. For some reason you feel yourself excuse yourself from your friends and watch your legs lead you towards Winwin. ‘Why am I going towards Winwin? What am I supposed to say, what if one of his gang members are around here?’ Still your feet don’t stop until your fingers lightly tap on his broad shoulders, getting his attention.
“Y/N?” Winwin asks in a whisper, but his deep voice almost makes it murmur.
‘He knows my name? And who knew his voice was so deep?’ you think to yourself.
“What are you doing here,” he asks with a smile and a light blush coloring his cheeks.
‘I knew that was a smile! Is... is he blushing?’
“Hehe, shouldn’t I be asking that? I saw you here all by yourself and you looked a bit confused so I thought I could help you,” you say nervously as a rush of blood flushes your ears a bright red.
His ears mimic yours as he says, “Actually I was looking for you. I was wondering if you could help me with today’s chemistry lesson. I know you’re really smart and I was sleeping in class since the words all blended together so I didn’t understand.”
‘What did he just say? He was looking for me? Why is he so red too? How is he so nice, I thought he was all tough and stuff.’
You turn into a deeper shade of red as you nod and respond, “Yeah, sure. Umm, where do you wanna sit?”
“Anywhere is fine. I just have to keep away from my friends, I’m not sure how they would react to seeing us to..together” he stutters softly.
‘Why is he stuttering? What will happen if his friends do find us? Oh gosh, am I really talking to him right now? Is this real?’
“Oh ok, I’ll try to make this quick then. There’s a spot in that corner where people don’t often know about do you want to go there?” you suggest.
He just nods and you lead him to the semi-discreet location where you get comfortable and bring out your notes from earlier. He sits right next to eager to hear your soft, sweet voice explain something he really has no problem with but only used this as an excuse to get close to you. You explain the lesson absentmindedly and start to wonder if he really is confused or if he was faking it. But you don’t mind he was because it gave you an excuse to really see how angelic his features really were, and his eyes looked like tiny specks of diamonds made up his brown, glistening, almost doe-like eyes. His cheeks looked so squishy and his lips had a natural pout to them and suddenly you understood why his friends were so protective of him. He has a strong exterior especially with that leather jacket but up close, he seems so fragile.
“And that’s the electrical structure of atoms,” you wrap up.
“Thank you Y/N, I think it get it now. Oh its kinda late now, I’m sorry I kept you behind for so long. I can walk you outside if you don’t mind,” he offers politely, accompanied with a light blush.
“Oh, that would be nice,” you blush as you pack your bag and sling it over your shoulders.
He does the same and walks you outside where you are greeted with a fairly empty campus with the exception of his whole gang waiting for him. Your eyes go wide with shock and you turn to leave but he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him gently. “Hey, um thanks for helping me, can we meet up again tomorrow?” he asks shyly.
“Yes, that’s good. So um I’ll see you tomorrow?” you say awkwardly as you rub your arm.
“Oh yea, take this,” he says as he takes off his signature black leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulder without a second doubt or any regard if his friends were watching him, which they totally were.
“Winwin, I’m not cold?” you say in confusion, wondering why he gave you his jacket.
“I know, it’s to show them [his gang] that you will be with me,” he says boldly with a sweet smile, his shy persona suddenly disappearing.
You however, burst into an immense blush and shyly wave to him as you barely muster, “Bye Winwin, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye Y/N, take care,” he waves.
*ahhhh this is too cute even for me hehe
*also the blushing parts may or may not be based on real life
*its been sooo long since I last wrote something, tell me what you guys think of this, I tried to take a lil different approach with this but I'm not sure how it came out
*also this scenario is a sneak peek of the summer series for NCT so lets see if you guys can figure out what the series will be based on
#nct#nct 127#nct winwin#winwin#nct scenarios#nct 127 scenarios#nct winwin scenarios#winwin scenarios#nct one shot#nct 127 one shot#nct winwin one shot#winwin one shot#nct drabbles#nct 127 drabbles#nct winwin drabbles#winwin drabbles#request 10
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