#aru writes

[aru-loves-krishnaxarjuna]

Okay so, this is a genuine apology from me.

Apology for what, you ask?

Well, it's because of sharing my mental health status to all those who are active on my blog (and my mutuals, of course)

I am sorry for burdening you with my depressive thoughts

I am sorry for burdening you all with my stupid requests

I am sorry for burdening you all with my suicidal thoughts

I am sorry for burdening you all with my past incidents and experiences

I am sorry for burdening you all with me trying to seek your attention towards me, and to try to force you to talk to me

I am sorry for burdening you all with my insecure self, and my feelings

I am sorry for venting on you all

Even though you might say, that no I am not burdening you all, I can not help but finally write my feelings

Therefore, sincere apologies from my side

Aru

[theogony]

nocturne in silver and blue

a/n : written originally for the kotlc secret santa for @that-glasses-dog except i horribly procrastinated on it </3. anyway i hope you enjoy the fic regardless because it is a 6k worddump on love existing despite everything and involves some of the hardest writing i've ever had to do (which probably explains the tonal whiplash). also i have already said too much so i will let you read the rest of this fic now

“Yup,” he enunciates, popping the last syllable - not missing the sharp intake of breath from a person he knows all too well. “Neither of us have been found by our soulmates yet. Which makes me wonder - what about you, Tam? Is there any lucky girl or guy in your cards yet?” The boy in question goes rigid - unusually so, and the voice that next emerges is so painfully cold it feels downright wrong. “No, of course not. Did it seem like the opposite?” Keefe’s eyes narrow, his gaze analytical at the stiffness in his movements. A heartbeat passes between the both of them, and the steely grey of Tam’s irises gleam like a knife’s edge. Keefe wonders if it’d be like kissing steel - like pricking blood that beads up like dirtied snow. “You’re lying.” - Alternatively; In a world where you see in greyscale until you hear your soulmate laugh for the first time, Keefe laughs a lot - loud and bright. Tam...barely even smiles.

Contrary to popular belief, Keefe doesn’t quite hate Tam Song. 

Sure, there was that tiny blip between the two of them - that blip of time when they fought like cats and dogs, both too eager to prove themselves to a world that refused to accept them for what they were and moulded them into something jaded and angry. 

But Keefe has never hated Tam Song.

He's come close to starting right now, though. 

“Wait…you're telling me that Keefe Sencen can't carry a tune to save his life?”

Tam smiles mildly as he plays back the recording of an extremely familiar muffled voice in the showers. 

“Give me that!”

As Keefe launches himself onto Tam's prone body without much warning, the rest of them begin to hoot and cheer, the easy light of the campfire warming them as they all gorged on the leftover marshmallows from the council meeting/friend group meetup/sleepover made to remedy the fact that neither Tam or Linh had ever been to one. 

Before Keefe can properly grab a fistful of his bangs, a peal of laughter rings out from the corner like tinkling bells - and the rest of them quiet down, staring at Linh - who's currently trying to muffle the growing redness in her face into a stuffed pillow. 

“...what?”

Dex shrugs, before reaching out to grab another handful of chips, ignoring Sophie's loud exclamation. 

“Anyone seen any life-changing colours yet?”

The entire group blinks, and Linh momentarily stiffens, before relaxing after no one shifts forward - only to coil back when Keefe teasingly pokes her in her ribs. 

“No need to look so relieved there - I'm sure I would have made a beautiful soulmate.”

Linh shrugs, cheeks reddening even further as the rest of them fully face her now. Tam warily shifts closer, only halting after she places a gentle hand on his. 

read the rest on ao3!

[permetutotheworld]

hi my name is Persephone, but you can call me Seph/Sephy/Nyx , I use they/xe pronouns, I’m an asexual lesbian, I’m autistic+adhd,

and I’m a minor (please don’t be creepy I’ve already had two people message me being weird and sexual)

I write a lot of poetry and I’m writing a book at the moment based off of the idea of multiple universes existing at a time, I sing and I love performing, specifically musical theatre

I ALSO TAKE REQUESTS!! I write poetry mostly for them but microfics tooo, for good omens, the marauders, percy jackson, les mis and any TJ Klune books that ive read, just pop a prompt into my inbox and ill do my best to get jt to you as fast as i can <3

my fandoms are : Les Mis, good omens, pjo, marauders, hunger games, aru shah, marvel, doctor who

my favourite music: queen, Maisie peters, the last dinner party, the crane wives, Taylor Swift, Florence and the machine, rene Rapp, Chappell roan, David Bowie, blondie, boygenius, most musicals

favourite books: house in the cerulean sea, under the whispering door, in the lives of puppets (all by TJ Klune)

my tags:

Nyx yaps: my silly little commentary on anything that happens to me

nyx vents: my life low-key sucks quite a lot at time so I vent a bit but I make sure to trigger warning everything triggering

nyx writes: I write silly little poems and stories that I post sometimes

nyx’s moots 🫶🫶: for my lovely moots

Nyx loves their gf: thats right guys i love my gf so mich and i talk about her a lot

perpendicular universe: posts about my fantasy novel im working onnn

Please dni if you’re queerphobic or discriminate against minorities in general, if you support trump or other dickwads like him or if you’re just going to be mean

also I do struggle a lot with mental health so I probably will randomly disappear or vent but I’ll make sure to trigger warning everything

my writing blogg: @persephone-writes-silly-stuff below the cut: my rp blogs, my moots and my fics

My rp blogs:

@nico-sees-dead-people @prongsie-rambles @regulus-the-star @pandora-opens-the-box @sunshine-boy-official

@enjolsaurus-rex @sunshine-prongsie-boy @panda-reads-your-death @lily-petals-falling @stars-andpoems

if you like my blog you should check out my amazing mutuals whom I love and adore:

@xenocollector LES MIS RAAA

@sauntering-vaguelydownward literally so sweet ilysm/platonically

@marylily-my-beloved love you Fatimah omg

@junos-ocean-galaxy very purple coded person and very cool also so genuinely lovely we live laugh love Juno in this household

@theoristswan5683 literally so nice omg they have the loveliest vibes 😭

@ashstillalive Amazing writer amazing person will happily beta read for you anytime

@mae-occasionally-reads so sweet so lovely so cool so glad we’re mutuals love you so much/platonic vibes only MY BEST FRIEND

@definitionoffuckup very cool individual

@rafaelthesilly I KNOW YOU IN REAL LIFE POOKIE YOURE THE BEST LESBIAN BUDDIE MY AMAZING SPOUSE ILYSM (platonically)

@ineffable-ezra I have more octopus facts for you!!!!!!!

@garden-of-runar the coolest person alive still can’t believe you followed me back althought yoir spice tolerance js weird as shit/lh and paprika is not spicy

@ravenwordss literally so sweet love you/pl

@pyromaniacbibliophile my spouse bc we are married

@cossie-fauchelevant the one and only cosette to my enjolras <3

@delinda24601 SHES SO COOL MY IRL BUS BESTIE LOVE HER TO BITS I FOUNDED HER FAN CLUB SHES SO SUPER COOL GUYS 🩷🩷🩷🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

@im-on-crack-send-help RIYANAAA SO SUPER COOL ILYSM

@startswithahell - cant wait for those unhinged asks omgomg

@biggestqiblifan - I LOVE YOU SM/pl

@the-eclipse-is-in-me - one of my favouritest people on this hellsite

[writergracethepanda]

One of my favorite literary tropes is when a character tries so hard to prevent a prophecy that they tragically fulfill its terms and it comes true.

[edwinas]

Unmet: A Neurosurgeon's Diary | Episodes 1 & 8

[the-mountain-flower]

This is what being a writer is like

(Book: Aru Shah and the City of Gold by Roshani Chokshi)

Photo ID: Image of a page from a book, showing the chapter title "I'm Not Equipped for This Level of Decision-Making" and the chapter stars with:

"Perhaps Aru was not actually ready.

At least, not ready to figure out how to get from one place to another." End ID

[the-ultimate-bookworm]

Okay, hold up, imagine this.

Aru Shah: Everything’s the same, except… Aiden’s really flirty

Aiden: *throws a pillow at Aru*

The Pillow: *Misses*

Aru: *laughs* Missed me, missed me, now you gotta ki-

Aru: *starts blushing furiously*

Aiden, taking the chance: Now I gotta what? Hmm?

Brynne: Oh why must I suffer through third wheeling?

[book-girl4evaaa]

Hehe so... I wrote something

Running - Bea

Word count: 1500+

Genre: au, fluffy I think?

Run, go, don’t look back.

That's what Arudhanti Shah had learned. The last thing she had been taught. The rules all thieves should follow, if you had asked her. Take what you came for, leave, don’t look back. And if they came after you? You should know how to sprint, or hide, or throw a punch.

Or - Aru’s personal favourite - lie. It was one of her strongest skills, even if she did say so herself. She could convince a man that he was secretly a prince, or a woman that she was secretly cursed. She had once convinced someone that she hadn’t taken their gold - how could a 9 year old child, a girl nonetheless, do something like that? - and then walked away with enough coins to feed her for a fortnight.

To be fair to them, Aru wasn't your average 9-year-old. For one thing, most 9-year-olds had homes. Friends. Families. The extent of Aru's family was a chicken she'd kidnapped and named Vajra. Most 9-year-olds had full bellies and bed-time stories and shoes that didn't leave their heels dangling out. Aru told herself stories, if that counted? Most 9-year-olds had a mother or father to watch over them. The closest thing Aru had to that was a bracelet that used to belong to her mother. Most 9-year-olds were loved.

 Most…

Did Aru feel regret for stealing? For lying? For taking things that didn’t belong to her? No. She’d done what she’d had to do to survive. She lived one misstep away from starving for the past five years. So what if someone missed their fur coat? Aru would have missed being alive a lot more. All the pompous brats who were her usual targets had basically been begging her to take their stuff, leaving around so openly; most deserved it, the way they acted like they were above everyone. In fact, it was a chance to put those morons in their place, to show them a fraction of what Aru had felt. Plus, once she’d taken whatever she’d set her sights on, it was hers! Problem solved. 

So Aru had never regretted thieving. Not until him.

The boy had looked about her age, maybe slightly older, but he had clearly never been in her position. His clothes fitted him for one thing, and his thick, dark hair, while not neat, was clean and tidy enough. He looked well fed, his warm golden skin clean and glowing in the sunlight. When compared with her loose, thin trousers, her threadbare dress, her tangled hair and her tawny skin covered in dust, he may as well have been a prince! But his eyes were… different. They were dark, flecked with gold and seemed to hold a deep, weary sadness. But that wasn’t what caught Aru’s attention.

It was the paint set next to him.

Aru wasn’t an artist. She’d never done anything artistic as far as she could remember. But what she did know was that stuff like that was expensive. And if it was expensive, it could and would be stolen.

She hesitated for a moment, looking at the boy. He looked so lonely, it almost reminded her of herself…

Aru shook herself. Now was not a good time to get nostalgic. So, with a quick breath, she darted out, snatched up the art set and ran.

It only took the boy a second to realise what had happened. “What was- Hey get back here!” she heard him call after her. Aru ignored him and carried on sprinting. 

Run, go, don’t look back. 

Aru knew most of the backstreets quite well - she’d spent the majority of her life in them. Her city may have been bright on its face, with its drapes of cobalt blue and stunning silver, its market packed with fruits of every colour, scent, and size, its charming houses almost sparkling in the sun. But behind the curtain, it was a dark, riddled mess that dulled all colours to a greyish brown. A mess anyone could get lost in, even a girl who knew it better than anyone. And of course today was the day she took a wrong turn.

The boy, in an attempt to get his art set back, had followed her down the streets, and right into a dead end. It was only then Aru realised just how much taller, stronger, and healthier he was than her. She muttered something she’d heard a merchant say when their stool collapsed. 

For some reason, the boy looked more anxious than she did. He kept shifting his feet, straightening out his already ironed shirt and looking over his shoulder, as if he was about to get jumped by bandits. Definitely not used to this part of the city, Aru noted. Maybe she could use it.

“Hi,” he started, with a slight tremor in his voice, “Can I have my paints back?” 

“No.” Aru fixed him with a stony gaze. 

“Why not?”

Aru didn’t reply and instead continued to glare at him. Hesitantly, he tried to grab the kit from her hand. She jumped away.

“Take a step closer and… I’ll punch you. Hard. On the nose.” Aru warned. 

Lie. And a boring one at that. Aru couldn’t punch anyone - she’d burnt her knuckles on a pan the other day and it hadn’t recovered yet - and punching wasn’t an interesting attack anyway. 

It was enough to make the boy retreat though. “Please can I have it back?” He smiled sadly at her, probably to try and gain her trust. As pretty as his face was, it wasn’t enough to persuade her or her empty stomach.

“No.” Aru told him, adding a “sorry,” under her breath. 

“Please? My dad’s gone on a trip - he does trips a lot - but this time he’s taking forever to get back and that’s the last thing he gave me before he left us, so I still need it, at least until he finishes whatever he’s doing. And I’m getting really good, at painting i mean, and,” he took a deep, shaky breath. “I just can't go home without it, please?” He looked at Aru with so much hope it almost broke her.

“I-I can’t. I need this,” she continued speaking so as not to look at him, “I need to feed myself. And Vajra.”

His voice shook worse than before “Oh. In that case,” he turned, rubbing his face briskly.

And then it hit her. The guilt. Aru never had it usually, but suddenly it felt as if she was swimming in a coat lined with stones.

Run, go, don’t look back

 But Aru couldn’t run from guilt, not like she did everything else. No, guilt was the sort of thing that only got stronger with the chase. She had to live with it. Face it.

And she really didn’t want to.

“Hey! Um, kid!” Aru yelled after the boy as he walked away.

“Kid? I’m about the same age as you!” His tearstained face shifted to a frown.

“Well, what should I call you then?”

“My name.”

“Which is?”

“Aiden,” he looked at Aru, meeting her eyes. “Aiden Acharya,”

Aru was the first to break eye contact. She took a deep breath, and spoke before she could reconsider. “Well Aiden Acharya, you can have your paints back.”

“Really?” Aiden Acharya’s eyes lit up. 

“Yeah,” Aru said, trying not to sigh. She would have to skip a couple of meals, but at least she wouldn't have to carry all the guilt around with her.

“I… Thank you!” He eagerly took the set from her, pressing something in her palm and embracing the art set to his chest, before smiling shyly at her. “What’s your name?”

Aru looked at the boy in front of her. Aiden Acharya. Maybe they could be friends. Maybe they could understand each other. Maybe…

Run, go, don’t look back.

Aru ran past Aiden, faster this time so he couldn’t follow. She ignored his shouts, his questions. She kept on sprinting until she was sure she'd gone far enough, before checking what he’d placed in her hand.

 A… watch, apparently. It had a pretty basic face, with sea green symbols and hands and a faded engraving on the back. Aru could make out a few letters (-ce–ak-s, it looked like) but it looked pretty rubbed. It looked like it had been intricate once, but time had worn away any finery. Still, it was pretty. Aru was about to slip it into her pocket before noticing the chain that was connected to it. Her eyes widened. The chain was platinum. Actual real platinum, she could tell by the markings. Aru let out a breathy laugh. Platinum was worth at least double the paint's value! She could get 2 weeks worth of food, maybe even some sweets… her mouth watered at the idea.

She darted out of the shadows, in the direction of the market. As she slipped the watch off the chain and pocketed it, she let a single thought cross her mind before sprinting away.

Thanks, Aiden Acharya, she said to herself, before vanishing into the crowds.

Sooo i might continue it into a proper thing... Should I?

[wanderingmind867]

Part three of me listing books on my bookshelf that i've read. At this point i'm feeling tired from writing, but I might as well commit and finish this damn thing. But once i'm done, I'm doing back to reading comics and maybe watching tv with my dad once he gets home from work. Because this is shockingly draining. So here we go:

The Neil Flambe Capers by Kevin Sylvester (I think these are my only books that are actually Canadian written. I think I found them in my public library years ago, and I was hooked. Cooking based Detective Novels about a lonely, socially awkward teenage cooking savant? They were pretty fun. My one criticism? They ended on a cliffhanger, and they haven't made a seventh book to resolve the cliffhanger! It's been at least five years! That still bugs me!).

The Land of Stories series by Chris Colfer (I never watched Glee, so this is my only experience with Chris Colfer. I thought he was a pretty good writer. I really liked his stuff, although I never did get around to finishing the series. Knowing how finicky I am on endings, I worry that the ending would leave me upset and unsatisfied. But putting that aside, his characters were pretty good. I still remember that he chose to portray Mother Goose as a wild old woman who liked alcohol. That was fun. I also liked the Prince who was turned into a Frog, but then just embraced it and kept to himself, living lonely and alone for years).

Some of the Rick Riordan Presents books (I have the Aru Shah books, although I only ever got around to reading the first one. I have the first one in the Tristan Strong series, though I haven't read it. I read Sal and Gabi break the Universe, and it was really funny and enjoyable. I read The Storm Runner by JC Cervantes, but I don't remember much of the plot, and I never got around to the sequels. I read Race to the Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse, which was a great book that taught me about Navajo myth. I read Dragon Pearl by Yoon Ha Lee, but it was a space opera type of story, and I didn't love it excessively. And I apparently own one The Last Fallen Star by Graci Kim. Seriously, I forgot I owned this book. How can you forget owning a book!?).

The Hardy Boys series (I don't remember when I picked these books up, but I ended up with like the first 20 of these books. They weren't bad, although I don't really remember them too well nowadays. But for being children's detective fiction written in the 30s and 40s, it was pretty good. The one interesting thing about them? No known writer. They were written by multiple different people under one pseudonym, so we can only guess at the writers. I once considered trying the Nancy Drew books, since they were made by the same publisher and just featured a female lead instead of male leads. But I never got around to owning them).

The Underland Chronicles by Suzanne Collins (In elementary school, a French teacher I had suggested these books to me. I told her I hated the Hunger Games, and she said these books were her preferred books from Suzanne Collins. So I read them. And yeah, they were far superior to The Hunger Games. But they're also so goddamn sad. Their ending made me feel miserable, because it was one of those endings where the character could never return to the fantasy realm. And that made me really sad).

I also have picked up a lot of humour books over the years. At least ten of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books and stuff like that. But I never felt like bringing those books to school, so those were sort of like my secret (I guess). But I do like a lot of humour. Comedy is something I almost always enjoy. But this has all been so much writing, that i'm finally exhausted. So i'm done now. sigh.

[dragonologist-phd]

Arueshalae or Wenduag for the Character Asks?

thank you! I gotta do my best gal Arue <3

How I feel about this character

Oh I love her so much. So much!!! She’s adorable and compassionate and earnest and has one of my favorite redemption arcs in anything and honestly one of the best portrayals I’ve seen of how guilt and regret can stay with you forever but you have to live your life despite that and keep trying to be better and god I could go on about her forever I love her so much

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Piper obviously ok I know that’s not the point! Seelah is my number one npc for her, even as I played Piper for the first time I loved how supportive they are of each other and knew I’d be shipping them in another universe

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Seelah again, because they’re also amazing as friends. She and Sosiel also have a lot of sweet moments, and of course I love how immediately accepting of her the Free Crusaders are!

My unpopular opinion about this character

I think my most “unpopular” is that I see a lot people call her naive and…I don’t think she is? She’s a demon, she’s seen a lot of bad shit, and she fully expects bad shit from other demons- she’s usually one of the companions warning a KC about demon tricks and lies! We see more of this in the Abyss, but the way she acts around other demons just does not read as naive to me

I think this idea comes from how she puts mortals on a pedestal- because yes, when it comes to them, she can be overly trusting (see her Camellia banters). But I always read that as more to do with her mentality of Demons as inherently bad and Mortals as inherently good. And that’s something that gets challenged, especially in a romance, because she has to overcome that way of thinking and realize that people are complicated so that she can accept the good and bad parts of herself, and so that she can see mortals not as playthings or symbols of unattainable goodness but as people

Also she’s autistic-coded so of course people infantilize her but that’s a rant for another day

I’ll also say that she’s such a good queer romance. Just. Her whole journey from viewing her own sexuality as something that is wrong and bad and dangerous to realizing that it can actually be a source of joy and something to celebrate is something that hits so hard. I’m not even saying that one was intentional but there’s a reason her act 5 romance scenes make me want to cry. Idk if that one is even unpopular but I feel like some people discount her romance as pure fluff but I think there’s so much to read into with it

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish her Evil route had been fleshed out more? Bad endings can give a lot of insight to a character, but from what I’ve seen of hers it doesn’t have a lot of depth. Honestly even just one strong character-focused conversation could do a lot, but I haven’t seen anything like that for Evil!Arue (I haven’t been able to check it out myself yet so maybe I’m missing something but it just seems a little empty)

GIVE ME A CHARACTER and I’ll break their ass down!

[maitaiwiththecorpses]

More Aiden/Aru, Just Straight Up Aruden Hcs...???

I'm deprived, despite just finishing NOI. Let's go.

If you think Aru's a nerd, good LAWD you've gotta meet her boyfriend, Aiden Acharya. His favorite book series is this really obscure lil thing called He Who Fights Monsters and he talks about it NON STOP

One time, when Aiden was sick, Aru brought a shit ton of stuffed animals and arranged them around him, creating a stuffie cult circle

Aiden was Valedictorian for their graduation and Aru was Salutatorian. They only way they made this possible was by ruthlessly competing against each other every test they had to keep their grades higher than that guy in the back of the class named Meth Steve.

Aiden becomes a photo journalist

Aru becomes a writer (basically she becomes Rosh, which is really meta...)

Aru has an INSANE sticker collection. Thermoses with stickers for DAYS.

That being said, she's constantly dehydrated.

Aiden's most popular phrase of 2023 is HYDRATE OR DIEDRATE

They fight a lot, sure, and they banter a lot, sure, but godDAMN their cuddle time is sacred. No fighting, nothing mean, just pure compliments and kisses and hugs.

Aiden is kinda touched starved, so these cuddle sessions are his favorite

Aru knows this, and (we found another way for her to use the Calendar app!) books a cuddle session every few days, receiving a notification and then promptly dragging Aiden to the couch/bed.

ARU PAINTED EXACTLY ONE (1) WALL IN THEIR HOUSE YELLOW AND THAT'S THE ONLY WALL THAT HAS COLOR

The rest of the walls are plagued with pictures that Aiden took, all of them of their families.

[aru-loves-krishnaxarjuna]

It's not the slap that hurts,

It's the feeling that still lingers there and the mental train of thoughts of self worth that you somehow have inside your mind, thinking

"Was I really that bad?"

"Was I really that worthless that my efforts didn't count?"

[theogony]

just seal it with a kiss

a/n : the chapters are WRITTEN for a fucking change (sweats before looking at some other fics) but anyway!!! new longest kotlc fic. this was such a hard exercise between swinging between gravitas and stupidity but i think that is simply the duality of man!! also written for @keeper-big-bang-2024 i had so much fun (suffering) (joyful suffering) and shoutout to my AMAZING partners working with them was so fun i love you all sm @that-glasses-dog (specs i ADORE you but you know this already) who's work is here and @lmeiday (lucy it was the first time working tgt but i desperately hope this isn't the last you're so sweet ily <3) who's work is here <3 ok enough yap now for the first chapter~

Before he can spiral too hard, he glances up, squinting into the jagged rock pile a few metres away- And for the second time in two minutes, he has his breath taken away - this time by the most breathtaking man he's ever seen, muttering something from his horizontal position, pale skin flushed pink from the light chill, eyelids fluttering gently in the breeze.  Dimly, he realises something else- -that the man is completely fucking naked.

Or; Burned out artist Keefe Sencen runs away to a different beach, gets a husband, treats wounds, discovers mythical creatures are real and falls back in love with life. Not necessarily in that order.

As with all things that involve Keefe, it starts off pretty normally. Standing in the middle of an airport in god knows nowhere with a half empty suitcase, hair tousled by the breeze, getting yelled at by Sophie through his phone’s tinny speakers…

-What the fuck do you mean you just??? Upped?? And ran away?? With your paint brushes??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK ANYTHING???-

-Or maybe not exactly normal. Such is the life of an underpaid artist, he supposes. 

It takes him a few more minutes, between precariously clamping down on his phone as he pulls out a large map, only to drop it back in after realising it’s been covered by nasty yellow paint that he’ll have to check on later, and then hobbling his way forward after he nearly runs a suitcase wheel over his toe. 

It’s only then he realises he’s made a grave mistake, given the phone has gone deathly quiet in anticipation of a response. 

Keefe holds his breath. Waits for the whirring of the AC to somehow get stronger. Counts to three-

-and successfully anticipate the almost inhumane shriek and litany of curses that next come from his phone. 

“Did you not even bother to fucking pay attention, you fucking-”

Before he can attract too many weird stares (or get deported before he even sets foot outside the airport), he hurriedly hits mute and grabs the handle of his suitcase, dragging it to the nearest pleater seat which has probably seen better days, from the way exposed foam lines the edges of the seats. 

A metaphor for humanity. Or a metaphor for something disused?, he muses, before sighing and answering the phone. 

“I’ll be fine, yes I know how to cook, I’m staying in one of Dad’s old flats that he’s probably forgotten about judging from the fact that it’s keys and deeds were left in a box in the attic, and even if I’ve forgotten something there’s a convenience store close enough where I can buy anything.” 

A beat of silence, before Sophie sighs, tired. Keefe rubs his eyes absent-mindedly, before drawing his hands through the sloppily bunched up hair. I’m tired too, he thinks, the stray thought dissolving as soon as it comes. It’s not a competition, he reminds himself. But even his argument sounds half-hearted. 

“It’s just.. It’s so sudden. Couldn’t you, schedule it? Maybe, plan something and not just… up your art studio one month before your second ever exhibition and leave?” 

"I didn't want to plan," Keefe admits blandly. He shrugs, despite knowing Sophie cannot see him. His gaze shifts beyond towards the window, where a suitcase has dropped from one of the small luggage cars.  "I need a break."

"I understand," Sophie offers gently. "And I want you to take a break, I just - you didn't give me- hell, you didn’t give Bi, or Fitz any notice?"

Keefe privately thinks someone should have spotted the warning signs, but he does not say so. Mostly because he didn't see them till his fingers ached when he picked up a brush, till the only thing he felt when looking at a canvas was horror-

read the rest on ao3 here!

[russenoire]

18, 25, 27

from this ask: weird questions for writers (because writers are weird)

18. choose a passage from your writing. tell me about the backstory of this moment. how you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. spicy addition: questioner provides the passage.

Teruki Hanazawa’s tousled bottle-blond mop pops in first, followed soon after by the rest of him folding itself around the open door. ‘You know something?’ ‘What?’ He blinks. Hard. Then matches Teruki’s positively perverse grin with one of his own, not entirely devoid of mirth: ‘Do enlighten me.’ ‘I just... think your space would feel so much more like an actual home with some art on these walls. Or some, mmmm… décor in here. Don’t you agree...?’ He fails to suppress a groan at this; it stretches out much longer than he would like. ‘If you’d… maybe let me help…’ No. Teruki needs to be stopped. And he’s never had much use for an abundance of stuff. What else would he keep in here, anyway? Here, under the black sofa he picked out because it was the least complicated on the show floor, an ivory sheepskin rug, ample enough to accommodate his full height and then some: the bare wood planks chill his toes painfully in winter, even with socks. Sleep finds him sprawled out on it from time to time, its wispy but dense curls like late spring breezes spun out of cotton candy against his skin. At the moment, said curls are flirting shamelessly with his fingers. There, on the far wall, a sizable flat-screen television. As a joke, Teruki actually insisted on framing it for him with a silvery rococo border that wouldn’t look out of place in a Parisian museum. It felt garish to him at first, but it’s grown on him since. That… that was enough. Except for a clock and a calendar on the wall closest to the door? These walls are otherwise empty. He doesn’t mind. From across the room, the arrangement of his limbs on the sofa obeying a logic all their own, he counters the man’s impish glee with the most antarctic deadpan he can conjure up. Teruki’s grin refuses to budge. ‘Well. We can stay here, or go someplace…’ he shrugs, ‘more home-y.’ Perhaps his well-honed death glare loses a little something with him inverted like this. Twisting his mouth instead into a resigned little smile—this time genuine, but still upside-down—he looks up at the man quite literally brightening his doorway. ‘Your call.’

so, uh, i'm a pantser when it comes to writing.

a scene *poofs* into my head; i run with it. i shape it until it feels right, or i discard it because it's not working. this moment here, where teruki cracks shigeo's door open partway and slinks around it into his genkan, just For Teh Lulz, and shigeo meets the shit-eating grin he's wearing with one that belongs on a shark? that idea, along with much of the dialogue, was the first part that sprang to mind for this chapter.

at this point in the story, shigeo has weightier concerns on his mind than yesterday's big talk at work. so weighty that he's sprawled upside down on his sofa and staring down the walls. he figures teruki's puckish, tireless cheer might help and asks him to come over.

i wanted to describe shigeo's minimalist-ass living room here. (remember his bedroom in canon? how... empty it is, compared to his brother's room? that struck me, and it didn't feel like his parents imposed that starkness upon him at all.) teruki also might have found that notable, i thought, and originally i wrote this description from his perspective as a flashback leading into the present. but i couldn't find a good justification to shift away from shigeo there, and the extra description kinda dragged this scene out. so i shed a tear and cut it. i'm proud of the language i used; perhaps i'll find another use for it someday.

framing it through shigeo's eyes instead gave me the opportunity to focus on his character more: the simple things he really likes, why they're present in his space, and why he's being kinda stubborn here. information teruki wouldn't have access to.

the rest was just polish: crawling inside shigeo's head a bit and sitting with this part of him that can be prickly but still needs company, then seasoning the language until it tasted good to my ears. (i know i've apparently written shigeo 'smarter' than he is in canon; in my AU he becomes a halfway decent student in high school with a lot of help and outside tutoring. his language in japanese is already not 'simple' so i don't treat him that way.)

25. what is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

itō ryōsuke, shigeo's senpai and office-mate, is in his sixties. he has two daughters he adores, naomi (not pronounced 'nay-oh-mee') and atsuko. one is a successful rakugo performer and a gender trailblazer. the other is an architect. neither is married, which bothers him a little bit.

27. who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? why?

reigen arataka. he's so stressful to write that i've only alluded to him thus far. i'm planning out a fic with him and i'm... dreading writing it...

i like him as a character, but not as a person: he acts out his self-hatred in ways i find deeply unpalatable, and i have too much personal experience with another someone who has to be forced to, y'know, actually respect people they love. (and winning that battle with them only teaches respect for a single person in a single circumstance. the next person they come to love and exploit will need to 'earn' their respect, too.) i don't want to swim in that headspace any longer than i need to.

[writergracethepanda]

Whenever Aru thought of her father, she thought of the before and the after. She thought of the man who'd given her her name, who'd cradled her as a baby, who looked at her mother like she was the only other person in the world, who went to the ends of the earth just to be able to be her dad. Then she thought of the man who sneered at her, who'd try to kill her and her sisters, who'd crashed her birthday party and lectured her about boys as if he had the right to.

Her father in the before and after were two different people. But her sister wasn't.

When Aru thought of Kara, couldn't think of her betrayal without remembering her sister's favorite yellow dress. She couldn't think of it without remembering the well-worn dictionary her sister always kept in her pocket. She couldn't think of it without remembering the first time her sister had beaten her at chess. She couldn't think of Kara's betrayal without thinking of her sister.

The man who'd betrayed her wasn't her father, but a shell of his former self that was. The girl who betrayed her was her sister, and that made it hurt so much more.

[edwinas]

A NEUROSURGEON'S DIARY (2024) dir. Yuki Saito & Motohashi Keita | inspo WAKABA RYUYA & SUGISAKI HANA as SANPEI TOMOHARU & KAWAUCHI MIYABI

My heart trusts you, Dr Sanpei. I will never forget you.