Oh my. It's been WAY too long since I've done a nonsensical meme. *kicks tumblr and it's woo-ing ways*
Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.
Upon request, I will post a random line or two from any of these you choose.
(Assuming that the file adds up to a full line, that is.)
Feel free to
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Comments 31
Aoi/Uruha stuffs! I'm happy! LOL
Hmmmm. "The Good Luck Circle" please?
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"The Good Luck Circle":
“You’re wonderful.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I know. But I’m still going to say it in the morning.”
:D
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And I just melted at that snippet!
want to read it soon! And please update Entwistle soon too!
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I would also TOTALLY love to see a VERY dialogue-ish fic somewhere in time in Gazette fandom.
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Please? *puppy eyes*
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PULSATION:
Aoi could feel his teeth grit and his lip start to curl in a beautiful snarl.
He saw the way Reita breathed out, saw how Uruha leaned forward - saw everything.
This WIP is so old~ D:
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JEALOUS AOIIIIII~ ♥
*running around with her arms in the air*
Reminds me I'll have to post something in your requests' post 8DD *will think of something* 8D *smirks*
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And I am curious (and slightly fearful) of that smirk... :P
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Blan k:
There was an unidentifiable object splattered across his doormat.
Shou paused, craning his head around the stack of laundry he was carrying, to ponder at the dilapidated figure sprawled across Nao’s housewarming gift. The vocalist bit his lip, wondering if the tenants in this building took things like “Welcome” a little too literally.
Lambs Lie on Broadway
(I actually don't have this typed out, but I do have an outline. Soo here's the synopsis)
Reita met Uruha when he literally ran into him at the park and ever since they have been close-knit friends - snorting over stupid movies, knocking on each other’s doors at three in the morning, whispering their aimless dreams in the cover of alcohol. They’re inseparable. Except when the holiday season draws near. Year after year, Uruha disappears - leaving Reita to an empty apartment with no family or close acquaintances to celebrate Christmas with. Each winter, the excuses get more and more ( ... )
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Oh my goodness I could just flail over your writing forever and ever and ever. It's so pretty. akldgad.
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OrjustlotsofEntwistle <3
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These Motions
He tries to stretch his smile into a goofy grin, the same one that he finds himself sporting in those black-and-white reels of past Lives - when his fingers were flying across the copper chords, when he let his feet (his heart) prance towards the left side of the stage, when those stage lights dimmed and the audience paused and now it’s just them beside each other breathing in, gasping, sputtering, sighing like they were always -
The attempt falls to the wayside, and Aoi is left with a half-hearted twisting of his mouth. They aren’t anything.
(old wip is old)
collarbone
He still has the randomly placed braids in his hair from the live they did yesterday and a few red streaks clipped in here and there. Yuu still can’t get used to seeing the bright, honeyed locks - even though it’s already been a week since Kouyou self-consciously fingered a strand of gold and asked Yuu if he liked it.
Shear ( ... )
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I think my favorite is...god I love them all, but the most intriguing to me is All My Pieces <3 Can't wait till Halloween to see it ^^
THANK YOU /snuggles
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♥
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That being said, these titles are quite pretty. Specifically Happy Mess and Danger o u s. Would love to see snippets of those two stories if you have them.
And, um...well, this is a very random note, but I was wondering if you've written anything centered around Miyavi aside from Entwistle (finally got the title right. About time.). Your writing style and characterization is unique, and I'm curious to see how you portray him in plotlines and how he'll interact with other characters.
My, this is a long comment.
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Snippet-time:
Happy Mess
I don't have anything written yet, but it's based off this prompt: http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lnyxi3UyCv1qznoe2o1_500.jpg
Danger o u s
Such a violent tragedy in his chest - the quickening pulse of doubt and destruction tearing his lungs apart. His bones were rattling, the mic slipping from his slick fingers, mouth parted in a last echo. Something was snapping, a ( ... )
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