Mostly-Empty Writer's Apartment by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Mostly-Empty Writer's Apartment
The real life of the party is where absolutely nobody fucking cares just how lame they are potentially being. They don’t fucking care if they’re playing the most overplayed song of the summer, because it’s fucking good, and they’re jumping on the bed and spilling beers and cotton candy martinis. They’re wearing sunglasses inside, and the only politics that matter are of positivity and life and freedom. It’s the side of drug culture where nobody is using without friends looking out for them, and the music is amping up the experience, and it feels like the party is going to go on forever, and you feel really
The Maid of Honor's Congratulations by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
The Maid of Honor's Congratulations
It would have been a massive cliché for Peony’s maid-of-honor speech to cover everything she actually thought about the lucky bride and groom. But, she was used to being that kid at performance who practiced for month and then fucked everything up by talking too fast and leaving things out when she finally got to competition and was in that classroom with the desks shoved off to the side walls and the judges at the back of the room, all catching different mistakes.
So, having missed as much of the wedding planning process as she had due to master’s degree things in another state, she at least had the maid of honor speech. He
Dinner for Middle-Aged Schmucks by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Dinner for Middle-Aged Schmucks
“Gina? Good evening, I’m Ellonde.” One forty-something woman held out a hand to a woman whose profile claimed she was 38.
“Shall I thank profile pictures or sharpening gaydar for this greeting?” asked Gina.
“You were the person who looked like you were waiting on someone.” The two women stood in the lobby of a hotel with a notable restaurant and bar. It was expensive for a first date.
“Not a bad line.”
“It’s similar to one my father used with my mother on the blind date where they met,” said Ellonde. In past dates, after saying anything that referenced the beginning o
You know what’s scary? The inevitable. The inevitable is what is scary.
So I’m going to tell you: That girl there? With the curly hair and bad posture? I’m going to kill her. That’s inevitable. Ooh, scary. Now, with that unsettling thought nestled in your brain, I’m going to continue with the opening monologue.
I hope we’re not off on the wrong foot—it would really be a shame if you thought wrongly of me. Which is to say: I want you to be disgusted and horrified. I don’t want you to think I’m boring, or pretentious. But anyway, back to discussing the philosophy of the inevitable.
ItR
Eternal Youth: Not Yet A Step Away, But the Most Valuable Symptom Is by Jeannie Mitcham
Inhabitation is an alternative to suicide and debt, especially for young people without access to insurance.
The Somerhaulder Medical Foundation is responsible for groundbreaking science into the lengthening of the human lifespan through not only elimination of disease and slowing of decay, but also through preservation of the brain and recording of the mind.
And what is their goal? Naturally: Immortality—for shareholders of this privately traded company, at least.
The SMF’s progress to actual human immortality is generations away from R
Ambiguity in Paper Writing by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Ambiguity in Paper Writing
In a lot of colleges there are situations that are borderline inappropriate. Not anything to contact your adviser or student counseling or anybody’s boss about, but things you’re just not sure about.
Like, take one professor. Let’s say he’s a man in his forties, married, to another professor, and let’s say he teaches literature. Let’s say that he has a queer lit class. Since this class is focusing very specifically on queer subjects, there has to be a baseline of comfort in discussing sexuality—of authors, of characters, of story, and because no reading is complete without what we ourselves bring to
Finding Miss Perosi: The One with the Police by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Finding Miss Perosi: The One with the Police
“No hard feelings, man?” said Jeremy, leaning over a little in the creaky, years-old, donated, OfficeMax waiting room chair.
What the other Jeremy wanted to do was deliver one of those big speeches, the kind you sometimes read, or make up in your head all the time, or occasionally see in movies or more often plays. A monologue. He wanted to deliver a monologue about how terrible the other Jeremy was, how he’d tanked their lifelong friendship, how insulting it was to hear “No hard feelings, man” after getting them in this much trouble, after lying to him—after everything.
He would have settled for a decisi
Working Title The Supervillain One Act2Scene1 by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Working Title The Supervillain One Act2Scene1
Act II, Scene 1: The Big Bad’s Grand Hall Intimidation Dinner feat. Sexy Reporter Captive
Scene Setting: A lush banquet table, to be furnished entirely by Olive Garden. [Propmistress, use your connections!] A bottle of red wine. Fancy-looking tableware. Candelabras, lit candles (if we can get away with it. If not, fake ones that actually flicker).
Curtain opens with Big Bad posing by the fireplace, glass of brandy in hand, looking contemplative. The table is not yet in place so it is not blocking the view of his posing.
Upstairs, two Mooks come through the red velvet curtain doors with a struggling Sexy Reporter Jane restrained by ea
“All right, on the mark there, and look at the cameraman instead of the lens, okay?”
“Unless I’m doing a The Office style look-to-the-camera gag, right?”
“Just talk to the cameraman. We have more contestants to do confessionals with.” The producer had a look on his face like Cam was not the first funny-woman on the show so far.
“Okay. Cool. Got it. Are we recording yet? Great. Um, well, being here feels weird. Y’know, being one of thirty women who ostensibly are here to date one guy. I mean, everyone gets their endorphin-wracked brains all wrapped up in the situation, but the statistica
Mostly-Empty Writer's Apartment by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Mostly-Empty Writer's Apartment
The real life of the party is where absolutely nobody fucking cares just how lame they are potentially being. They don’t fucking care if they’re playing the most overplayed song of the summer, because it’s fucking good, and they’re jumping on the bed and spilling beers and cotton candy martinis. They’re wearing sunglasses inside, and the only politics that matter are of positivity and life and freedom. It’s the side of drug culture where nobody is using without friends looking out for them, and the music is amping up the experience, and it feels like the party is going to go on forever, and you feel really
The Maid of Honor's Congratulations by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
The Maid of Honor's Congratulations
It would have been a massive cliché for Peony’s maid-of-honor speech to cover everything she actually thought about the lucky bride and groom. But, she was used to being that kid at performance who practiced for month and then fucked everything up by talking too fast and leaving things out when she finally got to competition and was in that classroom with the desks shoved off to the side walls and the judges at the back of the room, all catching different mistakes.
So, having missed as much of the wedding planning process as she had due to master’s degree things in another state, she at least had the maid of honor speech. He
Dinner for Middle-Aged Schmucks by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Dinner for Middle-Aged Schmucks
“Gina? Good evening, I’m Ellonde.” One forty-something woman held out a hand to a woman whose profile claimed she was 38.
“Shall I thank profile pictures or sharpening gaydar for this greeting?” asked Gina.
“You were the person who looked like you were waiting on someone.” The two women stood in the lobby of a hotel with a notable restaurant and bar. It was expensive for a first date.
“Not a bad line.”
“It’s similar to one my father used with my mother on the blind date where they met,” said Ellonde. In past dates, after saying anything that referenced the beginning o
You know what’s scary? The inevitable. The inevitable is what is scary.
So I’m going to tell you: That girl there? With the curly hair and bad posture? I’m going to kill her. That’s inevitable. Ooh, scary. Now, with that unsettling thought nestled in your brain, I’m going to continue with the opening monologue.
I hope we’re not off on the wrong foot—it would really be a shame if you thought wrongly of me. Which is to say: I want you to be disgusted and horrified. I don’t want you to think I’m boring, or pretentious. But anyway, back to discussing the philosophy of the inevitable.
ItR
Eternal Youth: Not Yet A Step Away, But the Most Valuable Symptom Is by Jeannie Mitcham
Inhabitation is an alternative to suicide and debt, especially for young people without access to insurance.
The Somerhaulder Medical Foundation is responsible for groundbreaking science into the lengthening of the human lifespan through not only elimination of disease and slowing of decay, but also through preservation of the brain and recording of the mind.
And what is their goal? Naturally: Immortality—for shareholders of this privately traded company, at least.
The SMF’s progress to actual human immortality is generations away from R
Ambiguity in Paper Writing by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Ambiguity in Paper Writing
In a lot of colleges there are situations that are borderline inappropriate. Not anything to contact your adviser or student counseling or anybody’s boss about, but things you’re just not sure about.
Like, take one professor. Let’s say he’s a man in his forties, married, to another professor, and let’s say he teaches literature. Let’s say that he has a queer lit class. Since this class is focusing very specifically on queer subjects, there has to be a baseline of comfort in discussing sexuality—of authors, of characters, of story, and because no reading is complete without what we ourselves bring to
Finding Miss Perosi: The One with the Police by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Finding Miss Perosi: The One with the Police
“No hard feelings, man?” said Jeremy, leaning over a little in the creaky, years-old, donated, OfficeMax waiting room chair.
What the other Jeremy wanted to do was deliver one of those big speeches, the kind you sometimes read, or make up in your head all the time, or occasionally see in movies or more often plays. A monologue. He wanted to deliver a monologue about how terrible the other Jeremy was, how he’d tanked their lifelong friendship, how insulting it was to hear “No hard feelings, man” after getting them in this much trouble, after lying to him—after everything.
He would have settled for a decisi
Working Title The Supervillain One Act2Scene1 by ElaineRose, literature
Literature
Working Title The Supervillain One Act2Scene1
Act II, Scene 1: The Big Bad’s Grand Hall Intimidation Dinner feat. Sexy Reporter Captive
Scene Setting: A lush banquet table, to be furnished entirely by Olive Garden. [Propmistress, use your connections!] A bottle of red wine. Fancy-looking tableware. Candelabras, lit candles (if we can get away with it. If not, fake ones that actually flicker).
Curtain opens with Big Bad posing by the fireplace, glass of brandy in hand, looking contemplative. The table is not yet in place so it is not blocking the view of his posing.
Upstairs, two Mooks come through the red velvet curtain doors with a struggling Sexy Reporter Jane restrained by ea
“All right, on the mark there, and look at the cameraman instead of the lens, okay?”
“Unless I’m doing a The Office style look-to-the-camera gag, right?”
“Just talk to the cameraman. We have more contestants to do confessionals with.” The producer had a look on his face like Cam was not the first funny-woman on the show so far.
“Okay. Cool. Got it. Are we recording yet? Great. Um, well, being here feels weird. Y’know, being one of thirty women who ostensibly are here to date one guy. I mean, everyone gets their endorphin-wracked brains all wrapped up in the situation, but the statistica
Mrs. Farrow scowled at the class, arms crossed over her chest menacingly, ruler in hand. "Until the vandal steps forward, nobody's leaving." The bell rang; nobody moved. "First the fake blood, then that mess with all the frogs, and now--" she snarled, scratching her back with the ruler. "Lice?!"
A hush hung over the classroom like a plague of silence.
"Farrow," Mo finally proclaimed, standing. "Let my people go."
You’re Boobs are Attaching my Eyes
“Excuse, miss?” The young man tapped the woman on the shoulder, “You’re boobs are disrupting traffic.” Looking ahead, the women noticed that cars were piled up and first responders were all over the place.
“Ah, I see.” The woman placed down her newspaper, “You see my boobs release a neuron-disruption ray when I’m in public places.” Even with the chaos around them, the woman was very calm.
“Yes, I figured that out, but would you mind turning it off for just a little while? I’m late for my weekly hooker.” T
~This one amazing fan theory...~ by Pika-la-Cynique, journal
~This one amazing fan theory...~
Yay! I am popular and you guys value my thoughts on Labyrinth, I feel so BNF-y, yay.
That's the 5th time these past 24hours I've been sent a link here on dA by people who want me to read that Creepy Alt Interpretation So Deep Wow of Jareth's Sarah fixation in 'Labyrinth', and that's after reading it myself reblogged on each of the three-four Labyrinth tumblrs I have bookmarked anyway (I do not have my own tumblr but I luuurk). There's no missing it! So thanks! But I have to ask y'all to stop now! Also I am a crotchety old lady who remembers copy-pasting her fanfic reads from geocities websites into word documents to read offline back in the
Dear Miranda,
My therapist is making me write this letter to you. He says it will help me find closure, that it will help me move on with my life.
In this letter, I'm supposed to forgive you for stealing my prom date. We're identical twins, how was he supposed to know it wasn't really me? I'm supposed to say it's all right that you got me thrown out of college for that time you streaked across campus and set fire to the football field. It's supposed to be no big deal that you went to my interview at the firm and landed the job (even though you have no experience on that side of the legal system), leaving me to work two fast f
“If you die in the game, you die in real life,” the bespectacled man warned.
“What?” Henry asked.
“We’re still working out the glitches in this neural interface technology,” he explained. “So I removed all the enemies. This is just a sense-simulation test run.”
“You’re kidding.”
Miyazako looked at him with a straight face. “I never kid about games.”
And then he flipped the switch.
Henry suddenly found himself in a dark room with glowing blue walls. A maze. And before him stood a row of orbs. He touched one and it vanished. Moving on to the next caused i
Well, I checked this site technically yesterday morning and found more notes collected there than I think I got in the entirety of Flash Fiction Month (which, to be fair, is directly tied to me being slack and not really reading and commenting on other folks' work like I ought).
The piece, featured by neurotype-on-discord (https://www.deviantart.com/neurotype-on-discord) is The Scattered Monologues of Jessica Leland: Dinner. Its companion piece, which I think I personally prefer, is [Less Scattered seq] Monologue: About the last one.
So. Official journal. Thank you dearly, neurotype-on-discord (https://www.deviantart.com/neurotype-on-discord). And to people who are now follow/stalking/watching what the hell ever we call it on this site, thank you all
Falling behind Flash Fiction Month here at the end, kickass.
David Bowie Challenge Day kicked me. Less that, as I couldn't get motivated or inspired, and immediately after that I got into Welcome to Night Vale and that particular amazing audio drama sucked me in for a couple days and left very little room for me to write. (I'm too audiovisual to multitask anything while listening to an audio drama except for crocheting.)
Anywho, want to give me ideas for the four things I need to write? I have like two ideas. (Note: I am kind of really frank about things, and if a suggestion doesn't inspire ideas I will kind of just reject it? Nothing perso
So the deal is, I'm going to go see Pacific Rim for the second time, and I still haven't seen the third episode of Free! (the Swimming Anime).
As you know, if I'm watching that I'm playing the drinking game, with the official (because I say so) Swimming Anime Drinking Game Shots: top-shelf vodka and blue mountain dew.
If me blogging whilst inebriated interests you, you should tell me so. Otherwise, I either will only share on Tumblr or I'll put off till another night.
Make your decisions, my lovelies~I live to entertain.
Lacking response, and thereby adequate incentive to make a display of tipsy funtimes (also I have business in the morni
Hey i am currently replying to your note that you sent me i have not forgot, like your self i have not been on DA for a while so i am going to promise to reply.