#i do have some hibernating wips too but what else is new

[zarvasace]

I know you already handed some over but I am frothing at the mouth for even a scrap of the BatB AU please Mina <3

I was hoping to hold onto this long enough to give you the full thing but also I like this line and didn't want to make you think I was ignoring you XD

Shadow sat up a little. “But you haven't seen a fairy? Do they just not give gifts anymore?” “Gifts? Fairy gifts are real? Do—” Vio paused again.  But before he could come up with anything better to ask, Shadow caught his drift. “Do I have fairy gifts? Sure. I have, according to fairy magic, a perfect complexion, a talent for oratory, and I'm also a wonderful dancer.” He snorted. “None of those things are very useful to me anymore.”

[maudfs]

It's that time again for the summary of art! 2022 is on its way out and it was certainly a year...

This was the year of the water tiger in the Chinese Zodiac. I enjoy using Zodiac things as prompts AND my birth year was of the tiger, so that is January's image. I used the lasso tool for a lineless look, it was fun.

February's image is a bunch of air type raptors of a species I have been thinking of for a while. I was trying to flesh out what markings they would have and what kinds of color morphs might exist. (front to back: rare (sunset), common (blue-jay), melanistic (dark), leucistic (light), and albino) Of course they are not finished (I guess headworlds are never really finished) but I would like to someday update my websites bestiary with all the characters and species I've created and these would be one of the featured ones.

March's image is for an Ovipets challenge that I won! It is a Catus with butterfly wings looking at butterflies in a field of clover.

In April I made a bunch of shuffle-style icons and little sprites for my characters for things like their toyhouse pages or my website... so basically a bunch a stuff that won't get posted by itself.

For May here is a sketch of Fulvina from Spectrobes (the thing my Fulvina is named after! I had to draw it eventually, but) I didn't finish it at the time because I was having trouble with the lines, though I do plan on finishing it. Spectrobes as a whole could use some more love!

June's image is Amdy as a Unicorn, as I was seeing Junicorn challenges but didn't want to draw something every single day. I also chose this because well, why do I have so many so-called shapeshifters yet I only draw them in one form? I should show what else they can do!

July is ArtFight month and this time around I found some very cool characters to draw including a dragon named Colors! This was very fun to draw.

August I created a character called Daemon, seen here. Haven't really fleshed him out much though XD.

September Flight Rising released a gene called Soap that makes the dragon extra shiny, and I knew I had to draw it. What better than a vaporwave dragon? Flight Rising has released a LOT of stuff this year now that I think about it!

For October, a WIP of Alban... didn't finish much this month. I wanted to draw some Halloween images and make a bat-sona but that didn't happen in time. Somewhat related, this is the third year in a row I started to feel depressed beginning in October and into the winter, DESPITE loving Halloween and colder weather, so I'm wondering if that's a sign of seasonal depression or something? Yeah.

November's image is more Ovipets, this time dogs (Canis and Lupus) playing in fallen leaves. Used lots of different CSP brushes in this one. (For the single purchase version, of course... as if I'd deal with a monthly subscription for an art program... I don't know who thought THAT was a good decision)

December I finished this piece of Cygnet. I was going to try to draw more for December, but the sheer cold of this country wide snowstorm(!) seems to have put me in hibernation mode, so I'm gonna go ahead and finish with this.

Now's also a good time to say that I still don't mess with ΝFТ's or АI art, (I don't consider either of these things to be “art” and I don't have the energy to argue about it) so I've been experimenting with new watermarks to try and combat that in a subtle way... still watching Twitter catch fire. Still wearing a mask (end date: undefined). Still love playing Legends Arceus... STILL too shy to socialize!! Come on, that's gonna end up being my new year's resolution for like, every year! Gosh XD But I must continue to try... I must..!

As always, thank you for coming by and reading. :3

[wordsablaze]

Or Lack Thereof

Jaskier loves meeting new people but sometimes he just wishes he could part ways with them properly. Or, the three times he doesn't get to say goodbye to Eskel - day one of @jaskierwhumpweek

A/N: me? starting a prompt week despite my half a dozen wips and making them all jaskel? more likely than you think. today’s prompt: “goodbyes”

-

Making camp in the middle of the woods is far from Jaskier’s favourite thing to do.

But needs must and since Geralt has gone off to hibernate or whatever, there’s no way he can travel through the night without being attacked by something or the other. 

Especially since he’s cold and he’s tired and he’s pretty sure that someone had been following him before he’d left the last town. Granted, it’s perhaps not the best idea to be a source of light in an otherwise dark forest but he has no other choice.

He’s only just settled in front of his small fire when something lands beside him. He lets out a rather undignified yelp and jumps backwards, instinctively brandishing his lute in front of him as if it were a weapon. 

“Believe me, you won’t even scratch me with that thing,” a deep voice says.

Jaskier scoffs but relaxes as he catches sight of amber eyes illuminated by the firelight. “And you’re a witcher so you won’t kill me or harm my wonderful lute.” 

The witcher chuckles and gestures to what Jaskier now has the sense to realise is a rabbit. “And you look like you’re in need of a decent meal.” 

Although the gesture only goes to prove that witchers really aren’t all that bad, Jaskier isn’t sure whether he should be flattered that another one chose to help him or offended that he’d been yet again deemed as incapable of providing for himself. 

“Well, won’t you share it with me, darling?”

The witcher pauses, clearly having intended to just leave. “You would want to share a meal with me?”

Jaskier nods slowly. “Of course. As long as you know what herbs are, unlike a certain white wolf we all know.”

The witcher laughs and places himself on the other side of the fire. “I’m Eskel, and I have more advanced taste buds than my brother.” 

Making a note to tease Geralt with that another time, Jaskier offers Eskel a grin. “Well then, it’d be my pleasure to share a meal with you, Eskel.” 

And so they do.

It’s quite easily one of the best meals Jaskier has ever had, and not because of the food. 

Later, he’ll be able to recall fragments: the scent of spice, the feel of old scars, the sound of unexpected laughter. Later, he’ll buy the pretty ring with the ruby embedded into it that he sees in the market because he doesn’t want to forget the witcher in the red armour. Later, he will poetically mourn an experience he almost had.

But when Jaskier wakes up, Eskel is gone. 

He doesn't quite remember falling asleep but he can’t bring himself to be surprised because of course a handsome witcher wouldn’t want to spend the night with him when he could be enjoying himself at Kaer Morhen. 

And in fact, there’s no sign that anyone else had been there at all, aside from the rapidly fading happiness in Jaskier’s heart. Because although the soft rays of sun are warm, there’s a coldness inside of him that comes from having to accompany himself once again.

If he couldn’t still taste the lingering herbs on his tongue, he’d be inclined to think that he’d imagined meeting Eskel altogether. 

“Note to self, don’t be tired when meeting witchers in the woods,” Jaskier mumbles to himself, because it’s not that he regrets meeting Eskel but it’s somehow painful to have only experienced a glimpse of him.

He then curses because he’s more or less entirely sure he hadn’t told Eskel his name in return. He hopes that next time, he remembers to introduce himself properly - maybe that way witchers will stick around rather than leaving with no warning.

Because this time, he didn't even get to say goodbye.

-///-

Something else Jaskier hates is being in dire need of a healer.

But he can’t feel his leg and there’s something seriously wrong with his shoulder and he can’t remember the lines to his own songs and that just won’t do. Stupid bandits.

“H’llo? please h’lp…” Jaskier manages as he stumbles in the path of the first person he sees upon reaching the town.

“D’you’ve a heal’r?” he asks, groaning as the stranger steadies him and thus accidentally puts pressure on his burning shoulder.

“I know where to find one,” the man replies, altering his grip on Jaskier so he’s not hurting him.

Jaskier frowns at how familiar the voice sounds but he can’t even remember what his name is, never mind someone else’s, so he just nods quickly and hopes he hasn't taken too long to reply. “Please. C’n you take me th’re?” 

The stranger must take pity on him because he feels an arm settle around his waist and the two of them start moving towards where Jaskier presumes the healer is to be found. 

He feels awful making someone go out of their way to help him but he knows he’s close to collapsing and he really doesn’t want to die in a town he doesn’t even know the name of so he had no choice but to bother someone else.

He can feel his eyes slip shut every so often but each time, they shoot back open and he’s reminded that he’d actually hit his head very hard on that rock when he’d fallen, like an absolute idiot. 

“Th’nk’ou,” Jaskier mumbles, well aware that he’s being a burden to the very muscular man practically dragging him along and hating the very idea. 

“Try and keep your eyes open, bardling.” the man replies.

Jaskier is almost certain he’s heard that voice before but all he can recall is fire and something about a goat and neither of those make sense to him, but then again, the ground keeps switching places with the sky so he doesn’t know what to think.

“What happened?” another voice asks urgently.

As if on cue, Jaskier’s knees decide they no longer want to support his weight. 

The man holding him up staggers but dutifully pulls him back upright and for a blessed moment, he can pretend he’s just being held for the sake of it rather than because his life depends on it. Oh, how he wishes that were true.

But then someone curses and someone else says something about his blood and he’s so tired and all he can think to do is whisper another “th’nk ‘ou ‘gain,” to the oddly familiar stranger still holding him up before his eyes flutter shut.

And when he wakes up, the healer tells him he’s lucky to have a friend like Eskel but really, he just wants to cry at learning he’d come oh so close to the witcher once more because all he’d done this time was make a right fool of himself.

And he still didn’t get to say goodbye.

-///-

Another habit Jaskier wishes he didn’t have is being drugged. 

But it’s hardly his fault that some people just can’t accept that their desires aren’t reciprocated no matter how obvious he makes it.

And unfortunately, he sometimes doesn’t notice until far too late. 

Which is why he doesn’t decline the drink offered to him as he takes a quick break from singing because really, nobody wants to hear a sore throat sing.

“Thank you, my dear,” Jaskier winks at the woman who’d handed him the cup. 

She just smiles and shares a glance with the man sitting next to her as Jaskier returns to the other end of the tavern and continues with his performance, fulfilling someone’s request for the next song.

He’d intended to sing for at least another hour but he finds that he can barely feel himself think after only half that time. 

“Sorry, I think I’ll have to retire early for the night!” Jaskier announces, wincing inwardly as people loudly voice their complaints and expectations. 

He hears himself promise to perform in the morning but the room seems to be spinning and he’s not sure who exactly he’s addressing. 

“Let me help you,” someone says softly.

Jaskier frowns as he feels someone take his lute from him but hands as soft as their owner’s voice have settled firmly around his arm and he can’t seem to shrug them off, he can’t seem to avoid being guided somewhere.

“Wait, my lute…” he manages to mumble, but the hands only tighten their grip on his arm, hard enough for him to grimace.

“We’ll return it to you in the morning,” a different voice says and Jaskier shakes his head.

He tries and fails to stop his feet from moving. “No, I- wait, we? Who’s we?”

The hands on his arms seem blurred and for the life of him he can’t tell whether they belong to the same person or not. For a minute, all he can focus on is the fact that he can’t see his own hands and thus he can’t be sure he still has them.

“You’re not as light as you look,” someone comments to his left.

Foolishly, he turns his head to look. Only to promptly groan in pain as his head throbs at the movement. He squeezes his eyes shut and almost forgets how to breathe until his lungs scream at him and he inhales sharply. 

“Maybe we gave him too much?” the person on his right asks.

But he doesn’t know what she means. Too much what?

“Stop talking or he might remember this tomorrow,” the other person hisses and he realises he’d said that aloud. Oops. 

“Wait, where’re we going?” Jaskier dimly hears himself ask.

Neither of them reply as they speed up and Jaskier has to bite his lip to stop himself from gagging at the wave of nausea that hits him. 

He doesn’t want to go anywhere, he just wants his lute and the bed he’d booked for himself and maybe a drink because his mouth is so dry, as dry as his lute needs to be, and where did he put his lute again?

“I would let go of the bard if I were you,” a new voice says, but it’s not that new because Jaskier knows that voice, he’s sure he does. 

“And who are you to stop us?” 

Jaskier doesn’t hear the reply because a sharp pain echoes in his head and he moans, curling into himself, which causes the hands on his arms to loosen considerably.

And then they vanish altogether and Jaskier expects to hit the floor but for some reason that doesn’t happen. Also the arms now holding him seem far nicer than the previous ones so he’s not complaining. 

“Thank you,” the nice voice says, sounding amused, so he must have said that out loud again. Whoops.

“Let’s get you to your room,” he hears as his feet are lifted into the air, along with the rest of him.

Amber eyes and half a smile drift into his mind and he finds that he trusts the new and yet oh so familiar voice. He doesn’t think of anything else until he feels a bed beneath him and a blanket above him, a blanket that feels a lot less comfortable than the arms of the kind voice. 

“You can sleep now,” the kind voice tells him.

Jaskier nods blindly, then groans when the action only hurts him. But he closes his eyes nonetheless, not that they were really open, and hopes that he manages to mumble an apology before falling asleep.

Once again, he wakes to be told that he’s fortunate to have a witcher on his side.

And once again, he finds himself grieving a moment he could have had, a moment that keeps slipping from his grasp the same way perfect rhymes often elude him, a moment it seems he is not fated to deserve. 

He wishes he knew how to earn it, wishes he could find a way to properly bid Eskel farewell if he is to always be denied a fully-fledged meeting, if he is to be denied the memory of their fleeting interactions. 

But this time he hadn’t even said hello, never mind goodbye.

-

i know this is like fragments of an actual fic but i don't have time to extend this atm, maybe in future? idk. i do promise the rest of the fics for this week are more blatantly jaskel though, if you're interested :p

-

next: “betrayal”

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier 

[serpent-face-and-flowering-heart]

Let’s Start at the End - Chapter 10

This chapter isn’t long or very good but it's important to the story so you're going to have to put up with it for now. I'm posting this to clear my conscious for the new year and hopefully keep on top of my writing. However, I have started a new WIP which I would like to post but first need to get a decent way through so the updates are going to be much better. Enough with the rambling, on with the story.

Jessica towered over the bay window, the same scowl for the now-familiar face. “Every time you show up alone I get more suspicious.” Placing a bowl of marshmallows down with more force than necessary. “I’ve known Rem for years, given a chance, he would come to his favorite cafe with his boyfriend in a heartbeat. But here we are you have come the past four days straight and I haven’t seen him at all.”

“He’s at home, and I’m by myself because he is better off without me.”

She crossed her arms raising an eyebrow completely missing the sorrow-filled tone. “Yeah, that’s bull. I just said I know him, and I know that the expression he has every time he is with you… he never looks at anyone else that way.” She drifted off at the end.

“Well the world must be against me because all his friends don’t like me, and the funny thing is that you said you two were friends, so correct me if I’m wrong.” Dee shuffled around a bit so his back was against the window and was facing Jessica. His expression held nothing but disinterest, he already knew the answer.

She blinked a few times, released a sigh and joining Deceit at the bay window. “Fine, you got me. The least I can do is listen to you. So spill, what went wrong. You better not have taken a photo of him when he was sleeping because; one that’s creepy and two Remy can not look that good when sleeping it has to be a conscious thing. If I’m wrong then he is, like, the master of Sleep.”

Dee watched her closely, hoping he could understand her, has Remy told her about their secret, is she really swooning over him now, and she seems to be easily distracted. Even humans without sides had a lot going on in there heads. “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t do anything like that to him. It’s more what my relationship with his friends is like, which isn’t the best.”

“How do you and his friends know each other?”

The best lies have some truth. “We work together.”

Remy must be vague as well because Jessica was familiar with the routine. “And where do you work?” Other than her need for constant answers this was going well.

“Court” Spoke too soon.

“Your a lawyer that awesome. Remy never mentioned it. Can you help me with some speeding tickets?”

“Yes, don’t speed and you won't get them.”

Jess huffs, rolling her eyes. “They are not actually mine my boyfriend just took my car out without my permission.”

He wanted to say no but he also doesn’t want this girl to hate him, plus from what she said she sounds innocent. “You know what? Sure, but not today. Not feeling up to it after what happened between me and Remy.”

“Something did happen!” She seemed awfully happy with herself. “Please please please tell me.”

“Fine, I left him. I had too, he isn’t upset so you don't need to try and fix this because you are worried for him. I said before he is better off without me.” Deceit drew out a sigh, no matter how suspicious it sounded she had to know. “Just don’t mention me, when you see him.”

Jessica clearly didn’t know what to say, she nodded and paused, she was going to ask, she is the type of girl who rules with curiosity. “On the house” well that wasn’t expected. “Your order, it’s for free. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thank you, and your wrong, it wasn’t the least, it quite a lot.” Deceit did not one bit feel choked up, those were not tears welling in his eyes, no that’s ridiculous. You’re crying!

“Feel free to come here at any time Dee”

___________________

“We’re back!” Remy announced in a sing-song voice to Logan and Roman who were watching big hero six on the TV as a compromise between the two. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything so we bought a blueberry muffin and a donut.”

“Dibs on the donut,” Roman said as he abandons the movie, taking a brown paper bag off Remy. “Logan, you want the muffin?”

Logan pauses the TV joining the rest in the kitchen. “That sounds quite enjoyable, thank you, Remy.”

The function slid the desired object across the countertop. “No probs babes. So what’s been happening scenes I was hibernating?”

Roman, with his face half full, said, “Me and Logan are dating.” He looked to Logan. “We are right?”

Logan couldn’t help the soft smile, he was such a dork, they both are. “Yes that is an adequate way of describing it

“When were you two a thing?” Remy asked as he jumped onto the counter ready for ‘storytime’.

“I don’t understand, define ‘thing’. We have always existed it’s not like you have just discovered us, which anyway you would be wrong to call us things and not people.” Logan adjusted his glasses as if proud of himself.

“Awe, your adorable hun, but I meant like in a relationship.” Logan deflated a bit pulling a blank card out of his pocket, writing the word on it. “Roman, you lucky you got someone who is as big of a dork as you.” He then takes a long sip of his Starbucks holding eye contact with both Roman and Logan. “Do I seriously have to beat it out of you. How did it happen?”

Virgil joins Remy on the counter. “It went from funny to gross real fast. Roman kissed Logan on the cheek and he straight up bluescreens. As you would expect from a prince he takes this opportunity to make out with Logan-”

“That is not what happened!” Virgil and Remy stifle their laughter behind their hands. Remy pushes down enough laughter to make kissy faces at Roman. “Shut up!” he screeches faces as red as his sash. “Patton you’re the dad make them stop!”

Despite finding the situation amusing himself, Patton signs for them to calm down. “Ok, ok boys time to settle down.”

Remy hops down again heading out of the kitchen a large smirk on his face. “Whatever, I’m gonna go take a nap. ‘Later.”

Logan blocked his way with a puzzled look. “You have slept for three days straight.”

Remy sent a smirk his way peering over the top of his glasses. “Excuse me nothing I do is straight.” He then spun around throwing his nearly empty cup and bouncing it off the side of the bin, spilling all over the floor. “Koby!” and then spun back to Logan, who left his position to go clean up the mess, taking his opportunity to run off to his room. “Later ladies.”

“What an ass.” Mumbled Roman under his breath as he helps Logan with the spill.

[gold-from-straw]

Writing Process tag game

Tagged by @gothyringwald! Thank you ^_^

1. What are your favourite genres and/or styles to write in?

I recently discovered I actually LOVE magical realism. I really like world building like that. But most of all I like writing about people and relationships, so within that, anything really

2. What was the last writing project you finished and felt successful with?

I get a total buzz from finishing anything, often because I’m super excited about starting on the next thing! I think Wicked Boys, though - it’s just the first draft that’s finished, but I’m really pleased with how it turned out. The Forest Hotel, as well, I finished that quite a while ago but I still feel really positive about it, which is unheard of for me lol! My friend has finished the front cover art, so hopefully I’ll be able to publish it soon! But the most surprising success was Nature of Trust, because it’s STILL gathering hits and kudos like crazy, it didn’t slow down after I finished uploading, and I can’t even quite figure out why?! I feel like I hit on some magic formula there and I’m fascinated lol!

3. If you have a WiP how do you feel it’s going? What stage are you in?

Oh dear, hold on people. So I’ve got 2 original novels that are about 1/3 the way through. One of them I recently got enthusiastic about again, but I nearly cried when I re-read the first few chapters. They were shit. I’ve convinced myself to move past that - that’s a problem for second draft Lyndsay - and just write the damn thing. 

I’ve got a couple of first drafts that need transcribing so I can upload them - Wicked Boys, which is my current baby, Golden Prince, and Living the Dream (shit, I need to be writing that like now, so I can upload tomorrow...)

I’ve got a Drarry novel which might ACTUALLY turn into an epic re-write of the entire HP series, oops. I’m only on book 1 as well, so... it’s getting there?

There’s a short story I promised my daughter, too, I should really prioritise that...

Oh, yeah, I forgot about Zero Degrees! I have a few extra chapters to add, and a bunch of edits, but I’m hoping to publish that next year

I have too many WIPs!

4. What are your favourite places to write?

I write my first drafts in notebooks (literally because I like buying pretty notebooks...) so I actually end up writing in some lovely places, like a hill where I walk my dog! My dedicated writing place is in a golf club cafe I go to after my karate lesson (random, know), they make the best BLT baguettes, and the old dudes there tease me and ask me when I’m going to write a book about them

5. Do you prefer to write with long hand or type? Or some other method?

If it’s something long I usually write in a notebook, because I kinda like having physical evidence of the VOLUME of shit I write! Also I really like pretty notebooks. Also also, it forces me to finish a first draft - I can’t edit as easily as I can on a laptop. And then when I type it up it forces me to second draft it, I spot things that don’t flow better than if I was just reading through

6. Do you remember your first character? If so can we meet them?

Yes! I used to write stories and pass them around my school, and the first one I wrote was about a girl who lived as a stowaway in a container ship like some pre-teen phantom of the opera on the fucking ocean! I actually don’t know if I ever finished the story, but she was trippy. First story I know for sure that I finished was about a bus crash where one girl nearly dies and her body is taken over by an angel so she can heal. It’s mostly from the POV of the boy who had a crush on her and who goes slightly crazy noticing the similarities and differences between this girl’s character before and after. I mean that was trippy AF too, I’m not even sure what was going on there... I was clearly a little edgelord already...

7. Where do you get your inspiration?

I really don’t know, half the time. Daydreaming. Something will set me off and I’ll take tangent after tangent until BAM, I’m re-writing the story of how my great-grandfather walked half way across Kenya with a donkey and a wooden leg, only now he’s gay and he and his Masai friend rescue a kid from an abusive household.

8. Do you outline a story before writing it, or does it all live in your head until the first draft gets put down?

So much outline. The reason being, I have so many random ideas that if I started all of them I’d go crazy. So instead I have a book full of tangled mind-maps (my header photo is an example), and once they’re outlined there, they can hibernate for years before I get started, but they don’t go away. If I just let them live in my head I’d lose them! I also have a book dedicated to doing character notes, like backstories and random bits of info that will probably never make it into the story but which give me a good idea of who the person is before I try to write them - otherwise they tend to be a bit two dimensional. @salamanderink gave me that idea by asking me loads of questions about some of my Zero Degrees characters!

9. Where do you go/ What do you do when you’re feeling stuck?

I just leave it alone, write something else or absolutely nothing. I don’t try to push it any more. I think I used to, because I was scared of losing momentum, but now I’ve got this backlog of ideas, I know that if I ever run out of inspiration at least I’ve got starting points for loads of new ones! I don’t know if that’ll change in the future, but it seems to be OK for right now. I sometimes change and do a bit of drawing for a while instead, that usually loosens me up

10. What got you started writing/doing Art? (Because I always love origin stories)

I’ve kept a diary since I was 6 or so, on and off, but consistently since I was 11. That just sort of turned into me writing stories, somehow. I remember writing in my diary ‘nothing interesting ever happens so I’m going to write down my daydreams until I get a boyfriend or something’. Then IDK, some of the kids a couple of years below me in high school found some of my stories, and asked if they could share them around, and I started sewing them up to hand out - I’ve still got all of them! Some of them were fucking dark... 

We had a talk by an author one day, and he asked if anyone wanted to be a professional writer. I put my hand up (and got teased by the assholes in my class afterwards, because apparently the boys in my class were actual baby boomers and didn’t think writing was a real job - like mate, you’re 15, what do you care?!) but this dude looked at me with a super intense expression and said ‘never stop writing’. So I didn’t. And I self-pub my original stuff, and get my regular dose of validation on AO3, and writing is my most effective coping mechanism. Tadaa!

Tagging @slytherinvalues, @turned-her-brain, @salamanderink, @elizabethhollowswriting and @soz or whoever else wants to do this and needs to procrastinate as much as I do ;)