#same for like….. every other wip in my gallery……..

[shroomerr]

Missed my girl <3

Just some miscellaneous drawings I’ve compiled of my south park oc!

[lambentumbra]

height chart for my main ocs ‒ i still need to draw their actual clothes, but i think this is worth sharing at this point

left to right: olivandre (oli) (they/them) cameron (they/any) jules (he/him)

[upsidedownsmore]

ENTRIES CLOSED, reblogs turned off, thank you everyone for entering and sharing your wonderful works!!

A compilation of every entry piece can be found here!

The winner is @mugbearerscorner and the information has been confirmed in DMs!!

Roll proof:

A link to the full spreadsheet of entries can be found here!

I'm so so grateful to all the people who participated in this event!! I'm so happy with how well it turned out and I'm so so thankful to be able to host it!!! Love you all!! :) :) :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

GAUSS PRIME ACCESS GIVEAWAY!

* Provided by Digital Extremes! Info about the prime access here.

To enter, simply reblog with your art of ANY warframe giving a thumbs up!

Giveaway entries will close on FEBRUARY 10TH at 10:00pm CST

The post for the above drawing (with reference screenshot and wips) can be found here.

MORE INFO UNDER THE READ LINE, PLEASE READ IT IF YOU WANT TO ENTER

Notes:

This is not a contest! The winner will be decided entirely randomly, image quality will have no effect on chances of winning! Make whatever you can in any medium you want! (This can also include 3D mediums! The only thing I'm not including is unedited game screenshots/captura, though edited might be okay). Everyone can draw regardless of how good you think your own skills are!

Please submit your own drawing(s)!! Only one is necessary but you can make more if you want of course! Do not use any AI generation tools for your entry.

When reblogging it might be a good idea to enter some text either in the post or in the tags! It turns out reblogs with just an image and nothing else might not show up under the original post, which means I might miss your submission!

Only one entry per person, you will not get more entries for additional reblogs and/or drawings.

The goal of this is for the community to have a fun little gallery of warframe thumb ups in the reblogs, but again don't stress over how "good" your drawing is! As long as you have fun and submit something vaguely in line with the prompt you're good! (such as a wave instead of a thumbs up or an operator instead of a warframe, etc. Up to you how closely you want to follow the prompt!)

You DO NOT need to engage with me in any other way (likes, follows, etc.) to enter, just a reblog with a drawing loosely following the prompt!

This giveaway will only run here on Tumblr due to issues with bots and impersonation on Twitter. The issue of course is that the only way to submit images under a single post on Tumblr is through reblogs, but please know that I do not intend this to be a means of promotion. If people could submit images in the replies I would gladly take that option! If this post gets taken down I will look into other giveaway options.

As this is my first giveaway as a Warframe creator please let me know if I've made any mistakes!

Here are some example drawings that would all work, but of course whatever you want to make shouldn't be limited to this!

Inspired by @ritens, I will be assigning one unique number per individual and then throwing them into the random number generator on random.org. After the entries close and I roll the winner, I will update this post with the winner's name and a message saying that the giveaway is closed. Reblogs will also be turned off once the giveaway is closed, as I am only using reblogs as means of congregating drawing submissions under one post during the giveaway period.

Whoever's number get's chosen will be contacted via DMs here on Tumblr, so please make sure your DMs are open! I will be asking for your Warframe IGN and platform so DE can give send over your prize! If you have cross-save linked or merged then please tell me, though I will also be asking in DMs as well. If the winner doesn't respond within 48 hours or no longer wants the prime access pack, then I will roll a new winner with the same method but with the previous winner(s) number(s) taken out of the pool.

Topmost drawing without giveaway text:

Anyways good luck and most importantly have fun!!

[toppamplemousse]

🌤️ i wanted to choose every emoji, but i admire the dialogue in your fics so much <3

omg please 😭 i am so overly harsh on my dialogue bc my bestie writes all the good stuff! and i love pages and pages of no words.

this is from the same wip as the other dialogue ask but.... young clueless foolish lestappen are just so fun to write and explore.

“What if I don’t want that? What happens if I want to live in Paris, or back in Monaco, or just somewhere else entirely? What if the MOMA decides I am the best artist in the world and I have to be near New York at all times?” Max just snorts, huffing out a laugh. It irks Charles to his core.  “Charles, come on, don’t be ridiculous. No– baby, of course I’d support you, but it’s not like these are the same. There are good art galleries everywhere, even more so in the Netherlands. Rijksmuseum, obviously, Rembrandthuis, you can have your own there. I can’t just do this wherever.”  “I know Max, and you know I want to be there with you.” He grabs Max’s hand, just for extra proof. “ It's just– sometimes it just feels like you think I should value your dreams over mine. These are still my dreams, they are important to me. Just because there are art galleries everywhere does not mean I want to go there.” “Yes but– mine are more–” Charles watches the backtracking done in Max’s mind immediately. “No, I was not going to say important, but it’s just–” “You are thinking mine are trivial in comparison. What’s an artist to the head of state?”  “Well I mean one of those just is more important Charles, you can see that.” Max shuffles to sit up more.  “Hmm. Yes.” Charles lies back down, letting go of Max’s hand. He’s fed up with this conversation.

wip ask game

[zelda-of-hyrule-tloz]

˖⁺‧₊ | TLoZ Appreciation Blog | ₊‧⁺˖

Spoiler Warning: This blog is going to be 90% about Zelda herself, I'm sorry (not) I'm unleashing the brainrot inside me

Tag Navigation

#the beauty of hyrule

GIFsets and screenshots of Hyrule

#gallery of hyrule

Fanart

#album of hyrule

Screenshots of characters

#archive of hyrule

Official Art

#the lore of hyrule

Lore & History of Hyrule

#the people of hyrule

Discussing characters (central and NPC)

#hyrule's gossip stones

Discussion of TLoZ/Headcanons

#the symphonies of hyrule

Soundtrack discussion

#korokseedposting

Shitposting

#i am error

Gameplay errors/glitches/breaks.

#mini(sh) details

Cute details/easter eggs.

#missing lore

I try to solve certain lore bits that have kept me questioning!

#in another timeline

I discuss how I would have altered specific details across games as well as what-if scenarios.

#nocturne's headcanons

My headcanons.

#nocturne's fan game ideas

My ideas for Zelda fangames I want desperately and will probably turn into fanfics because I have no self control

#nocturne's rambling

i don't shut up

#realm of asks and answers

I answer asks or whatever :)

#nocturne self-promos sometimes

I self promo sometimes, maybe. Usually I chicken out because I get embarrassed

#unspoken legacies

OCs!! Both mine and others'.

Legacy Character Tags

#courageous spirit of the hero

Link

#wise heart of hylia

Zelda/Hylia (and various alter-egos)

#powerful malice of demise

Ganon/Demise (and various forms)

#shadow guide

Impa

#the myths of hyrule

Spirits/deities in the franchise.

AU Blogging

#tale of the imprisoning war

I talk about if TotK Zelda was playable.

#call of the forgotten concepts

I info-dump about my totk rewrite. Spoilers, duh!

Content you'll see

I will be reblogging a lot of fanart here! I already have a lot in my drafts to reblog soon.

I'd like to maybe post my own headcanons here every so often, since sometimes it's easier to just talk about them instead of writing a big fic.

This will focus primarily on canon, fan-story aus, and headcanons; but I will NOT be reblogging Linked Universe art or other chain AUs. (I love them and have one myself (@meet-again-in-another-life), but at the same time I'm also sick of them and the mischaracterization in a handful of them I'm sorry I'm a coward with a big case of "they would not freaking say that")

princess zelda and hylia haters please leave before you get upset because I will not shut up about her

No NSFW (implied or visible) will be reblogged here.

Content Warning Tags

Workshopping these since I'm not sure what to expect yet! They'll be added as they come up.

Lore/Headcanon Posts (EoW Spoilers)

Why the Prime Energy?

Just made this blog because I want to organize stuff a little more! I'd really like to reblog a lot more art that isn't ships, but my side blog is too cluttered!! So I just... made another one. This will focus more on individual characters and familial relationships than any ships, but some might still leak their way through (apologies in advance). If you like Zelink content, though, I try to reblog a lot of great artists and writers that need more recognition at @realm-of-zelink! I encourage going through all the blogs and engaging with their wonderful work. :)

Link's Mother in Ocarina of Time

(This is a big WIP I just have a special interest okay)

[exhausted-archivist]

✨Self-Rec Tag Game ✨

Rules: Share five of your own fanworks (fic, art, etc.). Then, tag five more people to share the things they’ve made. I’ve put categories below, but they’re more guidelines than rules. 

I was tagged by @palipunk, who frankly is so talented I want a gallery of their work on my wall. Thank you!

Something you absolutely adore

I think it has to be the blank maps I made of Thedas. I used all the canon maps released from Stolen Throne to Tevinter Nights, including the ttrpg and matched them up to the same scale so I could expand the Thedas map. I still manage to find new maps details every now and then that I update this with.

Something that was challenging to create

These were the same project, and my first go at maps like this. I learned a lot and honestly there are a few things I'm going to revisit post da4 if we get more info on Antiva. I also completely missed the bit of blighted land in northern Antiva going to Rivain. Still I'm quite happy with how it turned out.

Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably) 

These are still wips but my rework of Thedosian bestiary to make them to scale based off lore as well as just exploring them as real animals. Mabari being as tall as dwarves, exploring deepstalkers with their lips actually closed, and a baby griffon.

Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.)

The original biome map for Thedas. I was really surprised about how much people liked it as well as how it turned out. It's a bit out of date as far as Antiva and Ferelden area goes. But I look forward to updating it.

Something you want other people to see

The Foods of Thedas Master Post I put together honestly. I'm very happy about it and honestly am so immersed in the food lore, its actually why I started making the maps. I wanted to know what plants were in Thedas, where they grew, ect so I could then figure out what else could be there. Now I'm waist deep in the lore and making banners for everything haha. I'm really excited to be updating it once the official cookbook comes out.

Tagging: @vabonesyart @whoisnotmyname @witchofthewakingsea @circtheeunbroken @ripflemeth

[mydarlingdearestdead]

Fairly Masterlist

Ambrose and Finch

For Finch - Ambrose and Finch "Running through the airport love?" - Ambrose and Finch His Touch can Ruin or Rebuild my Life as he Sees Fit. - Ambrose and Finch "Time to go home." - Ambrose and Finch Status Quo - Ambrose and Finch "Nothing special." - Ambrose and Finch "She doesn't deserve any of that." - Ambrose and Finch (and Doe) "If Freud wouldn't have a field day with that." - Ambrose and Finch "Running through the airport love?" - Maya and Finch Happy You're Happy - Ambrose, Finch and Selene "Infatuation. It's a horrible disease." - Maya and Finch Cruel Symbol - Ambrose narration Stunning - Ambrose and Finch Light and Darkness - Maya narration "But you knew who I meant." - Luka and Finch Parents - Ambrose and Finch (Ambrose Lore) "Going home?" - Ambrose and Finch Lucky - Ambrose and Finch Humanity - Ambrose and Finch Smoke and Oil Paint - Ambrose and Finch A Child's Realm - Ambrose and Finch The Majesty of Flame - Ambrose and Finch

Luka and Doe

Built to Preform - Luka and Doe Supposed True Love - Luka and Doe Doe Eyes - Luka and Doe "A very pretty Soprano!" - Luka and Doe "She doesn't deserve any of that." - Ambrose and Finch (and Doe lore) Wonders of the World - Luka (and Doe) "Doe Divine." - Doe (Titanic au) All the Wonders of the World - Luka "Made for each other." - Ambrose, Finch, Luka and Doe "Doe." - Luka and Doe Snow - Luka and Doe "We always won." - Luka and Doe Technicolour - Doe and Finch True Solace - Luka and Doe "Y'know... Together?" - Finch and Doe "Nobody's alone." - Luka and Doe A Dear - Doe "It's a party." - Luka and Doe Easier Methods - Luka and Doe "My name is Doe Divine." - Doe and Monica "Always won." - Luka and Doe Technicolour - Doe and Finch As Flawless as Luka Divine - Doe "The girl's more cactus than deer." - Luka and Finch A Long-Standing Tradition - Luka and Doe A Sea of Strangers - Ambrose and Finch "Mrs Divine." - Luka and Doe Bambi - Luka and Doe Simple Trust - Luka and Doe "Nothing less than all my affection." - Luka and Doe

Other

Him or Her - Harlow Amateur - Luka, Doe and Harlow (au) Harlow! - Harlow and Luka "Hai..." - Harlow and Herring He is divine - Finch and Luka "I want it to be perfect." - Ambrose and Desta "They'll kill you." - Ambrose and Lennon "Do I know you from somewhere?" - Doe and Desta "What is he punishing himself for?" - Desta and Meredith (and Ambrose) Third Party Revenge - Ambrose, Desta and Meredith Worthwhile Effort - Maya, Avery and Finch Idiot - Doe and Harlow A Petulant Child - Harlow Breakfast! - Ambrose and Finch (And Maya) Elaborate - Maya and Avery Cheap Embrace - Doe and Harlow Too Perfect - Maya and Avery Dear, Sweet Harlow - Harlow and Doe The Vampire Diaries - Finch, Desta and Meredith "Our little angel." - Monica (And Doe) "He looks like he plays hopscotch." - Luka and Doe Angels - Herring and Finch (and Harlow) Subtle - Maya and Avery Some Faith - Ambrose and Lennon

The Fairly WIP is named for the Andromeda Apartment building on Fairly Street where at least one half of all the pairings live.

Luka and Doe are musical theatre friends turned love. They represent blind love to me because, frankly, Doe is callous and cruel when she wishes. Luka is willing to blindly defend her at every turn because he believes that love transcends that. He is incapable of recognising her faults, only catering to them.

Ambrose and Finch centre around how an artist's work is appreciated and adored by fanatics. Ambrose is the artist, while Finch is utterly obsessed with stroke of his brush. In return, he cherishes their eye and objectivity. Although he is hopelessly vain, Finch allows him his indulgences.

Maya and Avery are a supporting couple and a very physical one at that. Maya is Finch's roommate and sole friend aside from Ambrose himself. Meanwhile, Desta and Meredith are Ambrose's collegues- Not artists, but rather tour guides/security officers at the gallery. They all share the same day-job while awaiting stardom to find them. Lennon is a character which connects this WIP and Dawson and Jude's. She is Jude's best friend but also Ambrose's ex-girlfriend.

Characters:

Ambrose Manalo Finch Kralj Destiny 'Doe' Harbour Luka Divine Harlow Booker Hai 'Herring' Wright Maya Santos Avery Corona Desta Phillips Meredith Blackwood Selene Manalo Lennon Reid

NOTE: If any links are missing, it's because I haven't gotten around to creating them yet.

[peridotglimmer]

For the WIP titles ask game...

marble statues sing in a minor key

(or if someone beat me to it, then False sandwich. Because I adore your False. <3)

Sharo! ❤️

@klm-zoflorr asked False sandwich, here ^-^

As for marble statues sing in a minor key:

First of all, the title is inspired by the lines Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur (...) Les grands jets d'eau sveltes parmi les marbres from the poem Clair de Lune by French poet Paul Verlaine (trans.: Singing all the while, in the minor mode (...) The tall, slender plumes of the fountains among the marble sculptures) which is the poem that inspired the composer Debussy to compose his Clair de Lune. poem text here | music here

It's a Greek mythology inspired Hermitcraft AU, False/Cleo (who else ^.^°), with True Symmetry as the sarcastic peanut gallery sidekick. I originally started writing the fic for a previous fandom (Timeless), but realised along the way that it worked way better for Hermitcraft. False and True are psychai, for now, though I may change that in future.

I've written two intros to this fic that I'm still trying to wrangle into one, so I'll just give you both for now!

One:

"Are you sure it's here?" False Symmetry asks her sister as they approach a nondescript brownstone. "This doesn't exactly look like what you described." True laughs, pulling her along.

"Underground clubs don't have signs and bright lights, False. Come on; it's around the back. Evil X showed me last time. It's legit, I promise." The two sisters walk around the building, two pairs of heels clicking against the pavement, until they reach a door. True presses the doorbell and smiles at the camera lens. A soft buzz, then the door unlocks, and the older Symmetry sister can finally lead the other down a set of stairs, and into the Hermitage.

“Hey Hels!” True greeted the young guy standing by the door. “This is False, my sister.”

“Ma’am,” Hels replied while nodding at False. “Welcome to the Hermitage.”

“We’re practically the same age,” False responded, “so you can drop the ‘ma’am’.” Hels smiled and nodded.

Soft piano tunes reached False’s ears as True led her further into the establishment. Dimmed lights and just the slightest amount of smoke turned everyone into silhouettes, except for the stage. A redhead stood behind the microphone, while a masked man played the double bass, flanked by the saxophone player. At the far edge of the stage, a pianist played the accompaniment to Mack the Knife.

“That’s Cleo,” True explained. “And Etho, Stress, and the pianist’s Ren. Iskall is dating Stress, over there, and Etho might court the bartender, Bdubs, once he gets his head out of his ass. Cleo doesn’t do relationships, as far as I know, but she has fucked every single person she’s ever laid eyes on.”

“Including you?” False asked, eyeing the singer.

“I plead the fifth.”

"True!"

--

Two:

Soft tones reach her ears as alcohol soothes her soul. The singer, a redhead, fills the room with the G major of Fly Me to the Moon. False could lose herself in this. It feels tempting. She only came here so her sister had a wing woman, but she’s starting to feel more relaxed than she had expected. It’s presumably due to the three drinks she’s had in probably much too short of a time span, but the bartender hasn’t cut her off just yet -- perhaps that’s because of her sister’s ongoing assault of unapologetic flirting. The other option is that the singer is a siren. False hasn’t crossed that possibility off of her list just yet.

“She’s not a siren,” Evil X comments as they walk past False.

“Stop reading my mind.”

“Stop thinking so loudly!”

[tellerluna-stories]

a distant dream (or was it, really?)

PAIRING: diluc x reader !!

GENRE: mindless, sappy fluff. mutual pining. listen, blame it on diluc okay he’s been living in my head rent free—

TW/CW: n/a.

A/N: no i don’t like diluc *unlocks phone and accidentally reveals the thousands of diluc edits i have saved* do i look like i have a crush on him *drops notebook full of fanfic WIPs solely for him* that’s stupid ahaha do i look like i would dream about him and then write a fic based off of that *discreetly deletes gallery folder full of my screencaps of diluc*

“Excuse me.”

The redhead gently prodded your shoulder, but you didn’t respond. Or rather, you couldn’t respond— for you were soundly asleep, right on the bar counter of Angel’s Share. An untouched glass of ice-water lay just out of your reach, moisture already beginning to bead down the clear surface like raindrops on a window-pane.

Diluc sighed and slid into the seat next to yours, propping his arm on the countertop. “You need to wake up. All the other customers have gone home and it’s closing time.”

Your eyelashes flutter once, twice, then returned to absolute stillness. The bizarre urge to gently prod your cheek with his finger crossed his mind, but he quickly nipped the thought in the bud; no matter how soft your face looked, it was ungentlemanly to disturb a person who was sleeping. Especially if that person was one whom he wished to court—

“…five more minutes, ‘luc.” A voice murmured hazily, bringing him back to reality in the blink of an eye; for a brief moment, Diluc thinks that he wouldn’t mind hearing you say that every morning for the rest of his life.

You frowned slightly in your sleep, fumbling blindly as you reached out to where you had heard his voice come from.

The crease in your brow disappeared as soon as your hand found its home in his, and you whispered, “Just… let me rest for five minutes, then…“ Unable to finish, your eyes fluttered shut once more, lulled back into a peaceful rhythm of deep, steady breaths. After a long day’s work, there was nothing (short of one of Klee’s extra-large Jumpty-Dumpty bombs) that could wake you up now.

“…I did tell you to go ahead.” He said quietly, the sound of his voice echoing through the empty tavern. “You should’ve listened to me and gone home instead of waiting for me. Now we’re both stuck here.”

But then again, Diluc reflected as your fingers curl tightly around his palm, perhaps your reason of staying was the same reason he was savouring this moment right now. Perhaps, perhaps… could he really hope that you stayed simply because you enjoyed his presence as much as he did yours?

He dismissed the thought quickly; that was a question he would have to answer later. For now, the problem to solve would be the issue of how to get you home.

Gingerly, Diluc lifted your arm to drape it over his shoulders, bracing himself for the struggle of carrying a sleeping person without waking them. But to his surprise, your arms instinctively intertwined around his neck in a sleepy embrace, tightening ever so slightly as you curled closer to his chest.

He inhaled sharply; any closer, and you would feel the ever-quickening heartbeat that pounded against his ribcage. Surely, it wasn’t loud enough to wake you…

“…Warm.” You mumbled, and nudged your head into the crook of his neck (be still, fickle heart!). The dark circles under your eyes told him everything— you hadn’t been sleeping well as of late, just as he had suspected.

“I can’t sleep ‘cause I keep thinking of what I have to do,” You had complained only a couple of days ago, after getting chastised by Diluc about how sleeping late was bad for your health. “So I just get up and work on those things instead, and only then I can sleep. But it’s fine, I promise! You won’t catch me dozing off at random places, no sir.”

A rueful smile curved upon Diluc’s lips; so much for that lofty statement of yours, then.

“…What am I going to do with you?”

[oldjane]

Trick or treat! 🍬🎃💕

The thing is, Joe thinks watching the clock impatiently, that he doesn’t even likeNicky. Nicky is everything Joe ran from. The embodiment of a high paying job in the City: expensive, crisp, dry-cleaned suits. A watch that could pay for Joe’s rent. Silk ties around starched collars. Gleaming shoes and a leather, monogrammed briefcase. And no time for small talk, no time for a smile, no time to actually taste the espresso he throws back before he's back out of the door.

And yet.

Yet Joe finds himself checking the clock until it reaches precisely 12 past, and Nicky comes in.

“Hi, Nicky!” Quynh exclaims, getting his espresso ready. “Lovely weather we're having, right? Supposed to get up to a balmy 23 today.”

She smiles widely as Nicky replies his usual ‘Good morning’ without any further comment. It’s like that every day. Quynh will talk about the weather, or the latest gaff from the Prime Minister, or something she saw on TV, and Nicky will – refrain from engaging in conversation.

But this time, Quynh doesn’t stop talking as she hands over Nicky’s cup and takes his card to swipe it.

“Hey, Nicky, do you like art?” She grabs a flyer from the modest stack Joe had put on the counter earlier. “One of our other regulars, Joe, has an exhibit next weekend. It’s just around the corner here.” She gestures in the rough direction of the small gallery, but Nicky doesn’t notice because his head swivelled towards Joe at the mention of his name.

Damn. His eyes really are something else. Focused and clear, it feels like they are reading Joe's mind. Or undressing Joe mentally, his treacherous mind supplies unbidden, and he is glad his beard hides most of the blush appearing at that image.

He didn’t know Nicky knew his name. He has been nodding in recognition at Joe for a few months, but that’s it.

Joe almost wants to jump up, take the flyer Quynh is still holding out, mutter an apology to Nicky – though he doesn’t really know what for.

But then Nicky turns back towards Quynh, who is positively beaming at him, and accepts both his card and Joe’s flyer.

“Thanks,” he says, exactly the same way he concludes his interaction with Quynh every single day.

But as he stuffs back his card into his wallet, he takes a long look at the flyer. And then puts it into a side pocket of his neat briefcase. Joe almost chokes on his tea. And then Nicky gulps up half of his espresso, as is his wont, and makes for the exit.

Only this time he doesn’t nod at Joe. Instead, he offers up a ‘Congratulations’, and a – is that a smile? One corner of his mouth lifts just slightly, barely perceptible, but – his eyes light up and suddenly remind Joe of the moonlight glittering on a calm sea.

He decides it is a smile.

***I am afraid I lost the rest of this fic somewhere in Sudan. Should get Copley to retrieve it at some point…***

[Sorry to trick you! FULL DISCLAIMER – Businessman/Artist AU is one of my WIPs. You’re welcome to let me know if you think I should finish it!]

[solarianvoidthearoace]

Excerpt#4 from my JonGerry AU WiP

CN/TW: brief discussion of psychiatric medication, amiable/loving insults and banter

Gerry swallowed, putting his phone down on the table and grabbing their mug.

„Okay, what now?“, Jon shifted his elbow on the table, leaning closer. Gerry just sighed, handing over his phone, the messages with Gertrude still open. Jon raised a brow,

„So Michael gossiped“, he shrugged,

„I don’t see why you’re suddenly this tense.“ Gerry cleared their throat, taking his phone back and looking at Jon,

„Yes, well, I know my last art show was months ago, back when we were still feeling this out. Us. But actually, I do want to invite you to my art show“, they slowly smiled.

„Jon, would you like to come with to this art show? It’s primarily my work getting displayed but the rest of the gallery is open for the event as well. And while I know tickets and all sounds like it’s this scary exclusive high class thing, it’s more of a formality“, they made a placating gesture, expression a bit awkward,

„So they know who is associated with the organisation and to keep track of who is actually there to buy something.“ He shrugged, looking at Jon with an expression he thought wasn’t too hopeful. Jon just leaned even closer, pressing a kiss to their cheek,

„I’d love to come with.“ Cupping Jon’s face, Gerry turned their head, kissing him properly.

„Martin is also invited of course, I’ll send you the calendar entry so you can ask him about it when you’re out today.“

It was a Friday, the next day. Jon only worked a half the day, due to his half-year check-in with his psychiatrist. It somehow had happened to fall into the same week as Martin’s endocrinologist appointment. He was home rather soon because of that, allowing himself to sneak up on Gerry. Obviously he didn’t want to intrude on his partner’s workspace, but if they happened to be anywhere else in the loft? Jon wasn’t afraid to admit he was somewhat of a cuddle-kraken.

Where he found Gerry was in the bathroom, but the door was open so Jon poked his head in. Bend over the sink, Gerry was picking at strands of his hair, applying dye. They did spot Jon via the mirror, though.

„You’re home early“, slowly setting the strand aside so it wouldn’t smack him in the face.

„And you’re trying to do a full touch-up of your dye job on your own“, Jon sighed. Before Gerry could answer, Jon chucked off his sweater and went looking for their package of disposable gloves.

„Thank you“, their grin was a bit lopsided. Jon just rolled his eyes,

„Yea, yea, twerp. Just the roots?“ Snapping on the gloves, he took the brush Gerry held out.

„It’s black, doll. Not like it will get blotchy if there’s too much. Just needs to cover everything properly.“ Jon sighed, giving a gentle push so Gerry would tilt their head as he needed to part the hair. Before he actually started anything, though, he handed the brush back and went over to the shower to get the shower stool. Not doing the dye job himself, Gerry didn’t exactly need to stand to look into the mirror. Gerry held the bowl for him, ducking their head this way and that, so Jon could reach every area that was left. They remained in comfortable silence for some time.

„Why do you even still dye your hair yourself?“, Jon finally asked, using the pointed handle of the applicator brush to shift some strands.

„I just got used to it“, Gerry shrugged,

„Also I did step up my game. I started using proper salon-grade hair colour some years back.“ Jon snorted,

„Yea, I got curious and looked up the conditioner you use, once“, he shook his head. As good as they could, Gerry shot him a glare through the mirror. Jon actually blew him a kiss in reiteration, before he grinned.

„My appointment went well, by the way.“ Gerry raised a brow, he hadn’t been about to ask.

„Apparently my newly changed living situation benefits my mental health, as far as my psychiatrist was willing to dip into psychologist territory“, Jon continued, shrugging,

„I mean, obviously my anxiety dropped. Within the range that’s somewhat usual for general anxiety disorder, so there’s that. But unless I notice anything specific, eh. This positive change in my life isn’t a reason to change my medication or dosage. I’m honestly fine with that decision.“ Gerry hummed in understanding. Reaching up his hand that wasn’t holding the colour bowl, they gave Jon’s hand a squeeze,

„Understandable. Changing medication is a pain in the ass.“ Jon nodded empathetically,

„Oh, that does remind me“. He paused while he looked through the sections he had made of Gerry’s hair. Nodding to himself, he grabbed the disposable shower cap from the sink. Twisting Gerry’s hair up to get it all into the cap, he smiled when they helped fixating the loose tangle for a moment.

„Where was I? Oh, yes. So, when I was out with Martin yesterday, he said he had to pick up his hormones. We stopped by here real quick and I took your prescription with to the apothecary. Restock is in the mirror cabinet.“ He pointed over to the part of the long mirror cabinet where they kept their medication,

„I know you keep them in the bedroom but since it didn’t seem urgent, I figured I would just put them there.“ Checking one last time the cap sat properly, Jon finally pulled off his gloves.

As soon as Gerry had disposed of the colour bowl as well as his own gloves, they turned and took Jon’s hands in his.

„Thank you. Was I asleep while you snuck around here?“ He raised a brow, expression teasing. Jon rolled his eyes,

„Either that or holed up downstairs. It’s not like I checked, dipshit.“ Gerry hummed, tilting their head and giving Jon a scrutinising look. Leaning back against the sink to stabilise themself, Gerry pulled Jon in, gently moving him around until he sat across his lap. Hugging him, he pressed a kiss to Jon’s neck.

„I really appreciate you taking care of me, doll.“ Jon huffed, rolling his eyes,

„It’s not like it was lengths to go to or anything. Sure, Martin did give me a look about it.“ He shrugged. At that, Gerry looked up, giving him a quizzical look, Jon waved it away.

„He knows my brand of antidepressants by now, not like it changed. But the packet-size is rather universal anyway, so I honestly didn’t feel the need to explain this to him. It’s your business. It is easy enough to figure out if he actually caught what type of medication it is but I don’t really think so…?“, Jon scratched at his neck. Gerry grinned, before putting on a mock-scandalised expression,

„Are you keeping things from your boyfriend, on my behalf?“ That just earned him an elbow to the stomach, thanks to Jon’s position.

„Oh shut up, twerp.“ The accompanying huff was unmistakably on the fond side of exasperation. They just grinned again,

„Hm, no. But maybe I will let myself get convinced to put my mouth to better use than running it.“

With how involved Gerry had managed to get Jon, a bit of the hair colour paste had smudged onto Jon’s shoulder, discolouring the strap of his undershirt. Besides that, it had been a nice and quiet weekend for the two of them. And also the last one before Gerry got wrapped up in the acute preparations of the art show. The next couple of weeks turned out rather busy. Working with Gertrude’s team to set up in the gallery meant he had to switch their daily routine, as far as it existed, to that of someone working eight-to-five. Lining it up with Jon’s nine-to-five if it hadn’t been for the librarian-slash-archivist’s overtime.

It was getting a bit hectic, though. Meaning, they did reduce their shifts at the bar for the time being. Gerry, first off, had to work actual day-time hours to be involved in the organisation. On top of adhering to Gertrude’s instructions to them as the artist. Which basically summed up to the equivalent of working over-time as well. So his work schedule almost lined up with Jon’s after all. It was nice, to get home around the same time as their partner, or only having just arrived when the front door clicked.

Gertrude was strict but she also knew not to overwork them, meaning she cut Gerry some slack in lieu of being helpful with the event organisation. Not that they got payed for the administrative help or basically doing the same job as Michael for the time being.

But at least she didn’t push any commissions at him until the art show and follow-up around the sales would be done. In those weeks, he actually was off work when he got home. This, of course, also entailed there wasn’t much time Gerry was working when Jon brought Martin with him. Meaning, they were about anywhere in the loft except for the atelier.

“Uhm, what is the dress code for the event?”, Martin spoke up at some point during an evening at the loft. Jon paused,

“Actually I haven’t thought about that. He didn’t exactly mention anything, so I figured something around business casual?”, he didn’t look all that sure. Humming, Jon got up from the couch,

“They should be upstairs so I’ll just go ask.” Martin nodded, suddenly sitting a bit stiffer than he did before, making Jon smile,

“You can come along, you know?”

On the upper floor of the loft, the bedroom door was leant, a thin gap visible. Still, Jon thought it better to check,

“Gerry, are you decent in there?” From the inside came a snort, followed by a chuckled reply,

“Morally? Never! I’m wearing pants, though, if that was the root of your concern.” Rolling his eyes, Jon turned to Martin so someone would see his long-suffering expression.

“Since we pretty much corrupted each other in our youth, of course I meant the pants, dipshit!”, he snarled back,

“Martin’s with me and I don’t want any of us to have a weird situation here.” Some clattering and rustling came from behind the door,

“Come on in, then. No need to keep talking through the door, four-eyes.” With that, Jon pushed the door open and walked in, allowing Martin to enter after him. Gerry sat on their bed, still in their black jeans from when he had been to the gallery. But they had changed the button shirt Gertrude had forced upon him in favour of his pastel hoodie. Sitting cross legged near the foot-end, he was still in the process of tying his hair back.

“So, what’s up?”

“Ah, well…”, Martin’s voice came out even more meek than usual, probably from the nervousness of standing in someone else’s bedroom,

“I was wondering about the event you invited us to. First, thanks again, of course. I’m really excited about seeing your work, properly displayed even. Secondly, while I know the appointed time and everything, I was wondering whether there will be a dress-code.” At that, Gerry blinked, before humming.

“Well… for me, I have to stick to whatever Trudie will force me to wear that night, since I’m posing as her assistant again. But the general event dress-code is somewhere between smart casual and business casual, I think.” They turned and stretched to grab his phone from the bedside table,

“I’ll ask Sasha.”

While they waited on the reply, Jon’s brow creased,

“So you’re forced into… what? Business attire? I really can’t picture that.” Gerry rolled his eyes,

“More like cocktail attire. Not exactly a distinction to business dress but Gertrude is giving us all some leeway, as long as we look official enough. Last time Sasha wore a floaty silk blouse over high-waisted slacks”, they shrugged,

“Along those lines, I guess. I always try matching her in terms of formal dress, it’s at least more coherent than whatever Michael has got going on at any time.”

[ckret2]

So I've been deeply pulled into the Radiosnake pairing bc of your fantastic writing! Problem is, now I have fic ideas but no knowledge of the Hazbin background. Can you tellI me where I can get more Hazbin info? I've only watched the pilot and read your stuff. I heard there were comics??

That is an excellent question anon, because right now it is really hard to get Hazbin background easily.

Okay, so, the canon info on Hazbin Hotel can be sort of sorted into four tiers, from most to least canon.

Tier 1: The Definitely Canon

There is, of course, the pilot. And then there is an Angel Dust prequel comic, only seven pages of which have been released so far. We’ve been told it’s gonna be finished and we’ve had glimpses of in-progress prequel comics for a couple other characters—most prominently Alastor’s and Charlie’s—but so far that unfinished Angel Dust comic is the only one that’s been officially released.

Finding the in-progress comic pages is... a challenge. Nobody, as far as I can tell, has been specifically collecting all of the pages we’ve seen so far. I was able to scrounge up:

Couple more Angel pages

some Alastor pages

another Alastor page

a random Alastor panel

another random Alastor panel—I’ve seen the full page of this before, Alastor goes “Hello ladies!” and they go “HELLO ALASTOR~<3″ but I can’t find the full page now

There’s a smattering more canon panels on the artist faustisse’s twitter, but I haven’t dug them all out, and some of the posts I’m gonna link in a lil bit have a glimpse of another panel.

If you haven’t already heard of Helluva Boss, I recommend looking into it as well. It’s a second series being created by the same folks, different cast of characters but set in the same version of Hell, so any canon details we learn in Helluva also apply to Hazbin.

Helluva’s pilot is here. Plus a cute music video here.

Earlier this month, during a BLM charity stream hosted by show artist Ashley Nichols—she runs regular streams under the title “HuniCast”—they released a few sneak peaks of future Helluva scenes, all compiled here.

And that’s it for canon. Two pilots, a music video, a smattering of future scenes, part of one comic, a few WIP pages/panels from other comics.

Tier 2: Pseudo-Canon

Everything else we currently know about Hazbin (and Helluva) are things that the creators have told us. Consequently, they’re all pseudo-canon—and likely subject to change in the future as the shows and comics are further developed and released. Some details that were released/described in the past have been contradicted at other times, or else radically changed by the time the pilot came out.

(For example, when Alastor was first created years and years ago as an OC with no plans for Hazbin, he was a demon deer who could shapeshift into a human shape—now he’s a demonized human with a few deer traits. And Charlie and Cherri Bomb used to look very different.)

So until and unless they make it into canon, all these pseudo-canon details are subject to change and should be taken with a grain of salt—but, they also comprise most of what we know about the characters’ backstory and the as-yet-unaired characters.

Pseudo-canon info on Hazbin is scattered mainly between two sources: the creators’ twitter accounts, and livestreams where they take questions and talk about the making of the show. If you and livestreams do not get along (my ADHD and livestreams do not get along), or if you don’t want to wade years and years back into twitter accounts to dig up every scrap of info on the characters the creators have ever mentioned, collating all the pseudo-canon info is gonna be hard. (It’s gonna be hard even if you do want to sit through the streams and dig through all their tweets.) Lots of fans, me included, depend on the absolutely heroic work of various fans who are willing and able to watch hours-long streams and collate a list of canon factoids released during the streams. I’ve reblogged as many of these posts as I’ve been able to find:

Alastor’s sound design (on twitter)

Alastor's Sound Design (post I made with screenshots of weird—but very interesting—subtitles slipped into the aforementioned video)

Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb’s sound design

Niffty and Husk’s sound design

Charlie, Katie, and Tom’s sound design

Intro song’s sound design

Happy Hotel’s sound design

details from Faustisse (including a pic of a couple costume designs. Most of these posts come from zatyrlucy, who’s been doing a fantastic job of going stream-by-stream to get lists of details from the regular streams by Ashley Nichols and by comic artist Faustisse.)

more details from Faustisse (including a pic of the Von Eldritch family dining room)

Faustisse 3 (better look at that table)

Dollymoon’s Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART ONE (Shoutout again to dollymoon for compiling these, we’ve never spoken but I am eternally grateful for this service. Dollymoon’s posts are THE single most reliable compilation of Hazbin Hotel’s nebulous pseudo-canon facts that I have found to date, including both links to the sources and timestamps where applicable. Dollymoon’s URL has changed since making this post so the “read more” link doesn’t work but the “source” or “reblogged from” links direct correctly to the new blog. Incidentally, the risk of other blog creators deleting their blogs/posts or changing their URLs is why in info posts like these, I always link to my own reblogs rather than their original posts—their original posts might vanish without warning, but I know I ain’t gonna delete my posts, so these links will still work in the future.)

Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART TWO

Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART THREE

Faustisse 4

HuniCast - Australian Wildlife Relief charity stream

I think this was a faustisse stream (the original source deleted these posts, so the comic pages that were originally behind that read more cut are now gone.)

Faustisse stream 6?

And those are all the masterposts of factoids I’ve managed to collect. If anyone has more masterposts, chuck ‘em at me.

Even this isn’t all the knowledge that’s been released about the show. The posts that dig the farthest back are Dollymoon’s, and even they don’t comprehensively cover all of Hazbin’s production. A couple of these characters, Vivziepop created as a teenager, so there’s some truly ancient concept art floating around out there that will have details that probably aren’t canon anymore... but might still be until something happens to actively contradict them.

Tier 3: The Wiki

The wiki is kind of an absolute mess. It’s a chaotic blend of things actually seen in the pilots/comic, things mentioned at some point in some stream somewhere, and wild fan speculation based on what they headcanon as plausible based on the above, all mixed together with very little indication for which is canon, pseudo-canon, fanon, or speculation. Most of the statements on the wiki don’t have citations.

(And, on top of that, half the main characters’ info gets split up into separate tabs instead of just having a normal-ass wiki page, AND their image galleries are on COMPLETELY SEPARATE pages that are linked to in one of the tabs, and the most important characters all have TWO SEPARATE GALLERIES. Which doesn’t have anything to do with the quality of the facts hidden underneath those tabs, but nevertheless drives me up the wall.)

Some things on the wiki were added according to info released so long ago it’s probably changed by now. Some are possibilities that got reported as facts. Other things on the wiki have unambiguously changed, or else are just flat-out incorrect. (For instance, at this moment Alastor’s page still lists him as an overlord, even though it's been confirmed that Alastor is not an overlord despite his power level because he isn’t interested in and didn’t pursue that position, per this stream. For a little bit, somebody’s fanart of their headcanon human Alastor got added to the wiki as concept art.)

tl;dr: the wiki should never be trusted as a primary source. The wiki’s better than it used to be. Even so, at this time, it’s only trustworthy to fill in the gaps of what you already know is true from other, better sources.

The thing it’s good at is it more or less compiles all the known info all in one place. Trying to figure out who the hell this Vox guy is is really hard if you’re reading for mentions of him in compilations of a dozen different streams, much less if you’re trying to comb through those dozen streams yourself, plus a dozen more, plus three different artists’ twitters. In comparison, it’s really easy to, say, just go look at Vox’s wiki page, where all the trivia is compiled. (And Vox’s page is actually one of the better cited on the wiki. Look at all those numbers!)

So, if you need to find out who this character is you’ve never heard of before, if you want to see a full list of the thus far named characters, if you don’t remember whether Alastor likes coffee or tea, if you want to know what Angel’s twin sister looks like, if you need a reminder of Sir Pentious’s death year... check the wiki. It’s an okay starting point.

But, if you see a “fact” on the wiki that you yourself don’t remember from straight out of the pilot, and it doesn’t have a citation that links to a tweet or a stream... regard it suspiciously. And do not trust it unquestioningly as fact until and unless you have seen the source.

Tier 4: Noncanon Creator Shitposting

I’ve mentioned Ashley’s HuniCast streams a couple times. The biggest draw of them is that she usually gets several of the voice actors in the streams, where they’ll happily say nonsense in their character voices. For the most part, they’re not sharing any actual canon info they’ve been given on their characters, just goofing around pretending to be their characters. Nevertheless, a lot of the things that happen in streams get accepted as broad fandom headcanons, like Alastor being into dad jokes. (My favorite, for obvious reasons, is this one.)

It’s easy to find the source audio for all this wonderful nonsense by searching youtube for “HuniCast highlights,” and then rummaging around for animatics people make out of the audio. The only one noncanon video of this sort I can think of that didn’t originally come from HuniCast is a lone one from Alastor’s singing voice (who’s a different voice actor than his speaking voice).

So, obviously, none of these are canon. But they do come from some of the people actually involved in the creation of the show, and they are in the characters’ canon voices, so a whole lot of people treat them as semi-canon anyway. (Even the wiki lists “dad jokes” among Alastor’s likes, which to my knowledge hasn’t come up anywhere except for HuniCast streams.) Since they’re so broadly-known, they’re worth knowing about as important sources of fanon, even if you don’t want to adopt them into your own headcanons. They’re basically the same level of canon as blooper reels.

[youspeakshit]

WIP Wednesday

I didn’t know this was a thing, and I didn’t think of adding to it until two minutes ago. But I’ve been working on a Noelian fic for abt a month now and I don’t think I’ll be finished for another one... So yeah, I wanna share some of it with everyone! This part is a bit of the ‘plot’ that preludes a lot of...filth lmao. And I mean filth. And I mean a lot.

"Please don't tell me you're taking me to your secret sex corner. That's disgusting."

"Oh, my God!" Noel laughs, voice going high, throwing an incredulous look over his shoulder. "All we did there was smoke some weed, you creep."

"Sure."

"My body was a temple until I met you."

Before Julian has time to strongly oppose such a ludicrous statement, Noel makes a sharp turn to the left and stops by a sketchy-looking double door. He goes straight for the handle as if to check it's locked, and it is. Instead of giving up, though, he shoots Julian a cheeky look as he leans against it and moves the handle in odd directions, tongue poking out. Julian doesn't think anything is going to happen until there's a click and Noel smiles broadly, pushing the doors open with a dramatic flourish, the 'ta-dah!' in his stance heavily implied.

"Almost twenty years since I was here and this lock is still shit, can you believe?" He shakes his head disappointedly at the door and enters the room, Julian following behind.

Honestly, Julian doesn't know what he was expecting, yet he still feels slightly disappointed by the abandoned classroom they walk into. It's a big room with bare cement walls that seem to go up infinitely and huge industrial windows to the left, bringing in the yellow light from the streetlamps outside. Judging by how old-fashioned everything looks, Julian guesses it has been a storeroom for quite some time.

"No offense, but a bit underwhelming. Three stars."

"Oh, fuck off," Noel replies, walking to the windows and jumping on the deep concrete sill to sit. Julian watches as he looks around, eyes lingering on random objects and corners. "This room has been like this forever, it was everyone's secret place. But like, the cool kids would tell the other cool kids. Word of mouth," he continues, longing so strong in his voice that Julian finally leaves the spot by the door and gets closer. He drops the coat on a table nearby and steps up to Noel, standing between his spread legs. Noel's lost gaze snaps to Julian's and he gives a bittersweet grin. "Whenever we had an exhibition week, we'd come here every day to smoke and talk for hours before the gallery opened."

It isn't Julian's nostalgia, yet he feels a burn deep in his chest, knowing exactly what it means to Noel. A place full of memories, a special moment in your life you can never go back to. There's no way to relive it, even if you tried; it's all tied to who you were and how life was then. 

"I'm jealous, I've never been in a room full of artsy teaheads. Sounds unbearable," Julian jokes, hoping to lighten up the mood. Noel rolls his eyes at him, lightly kicks his leg, and Julian responds by pushing a lock of hair behind Noel's ear, giving him a brief, close-mouthed kiss. Noel reacts right away, threading his fingers through Julian's hair, pulling him in and opening up his mouth, tongue working itself over Julian's.

They kiss and kiss and kiss and he feels as Noel relaxes again, arms moving to wrap around his torso, hands clutching the small of his back. Julian keeps his on Noel's face and neck, gripping his nape, then sliding down his throat, pushing his thumb into the hollow base there. He was only going for a brief distraction, but the way Noel moves closer to the edge and gently rubs himself against Julian... That's a different story. And Julian wants it just the same.

Moving slowly, he drags his fingers from Noel's clavicle and down his chest to fit his big hands on narrow hips. He pulls until Noel has no choice but to jump off the sill, boots clicking as they hit the wooden floor, never breaking the kiss. This is common territory now: Julian bending down slightly, Noel reaching up with his whole body, meeting in the middle to properly grab at each other. When they get like this it's all-consuming and enthralling, the height difference making Julian practically fold himself around Noel. It's an intimate position that turns Julian on even more.

[stonecoldhedwig]

Caraway Street: 1

Decided to start master-listing my fics on Tumblr, so here we go with the big WIP! 

_________________________ Chapter 1: Shotgun  Sirius looked around him, as the floorboard creaked beneath his feet. The room was surprisingly airy, with a sloping ceiling and whitewashed walls, and a little window that looked out over a somewhat-bedraggled back garden. The August day was hot and bright, beating down on the flagstones below, and through the open window Sirius could hear the sounds of the city alive with activity.

He and Remus had taken a room together in a flat along with James, at the top of a slightly-crumbling Edwardian house in London’s Muswell Hill. The house belonged to a bumbling man called Elphias Doge, who Sirius was quite convinced was over a hundred years old, and who had a penchant for remarkable hats. They’d found the advert for the place on a noticeboard in a coffee shop early in the summer, after a terrible viewing of a flat with so much black mould that Remus had walked out midway through. The first time they’d visited the house, Sirius had declared it perfect, even with the peeling paint in the bathroom and the front door that required a hard shove to open; the slim cupboard door in the hall that revealed stairs up to the roof had been the icing on the cake. Even better, the bigger flat below (which was in considerably better condition, James pointed out), had come available at the same time, and Lily, Dorcas and Marlene were set to move in.

Together. The word didn’t get old. Hadn’t got old for nearly a year now, Sirius thought. The word still had the capacity to send a frisson of excitement through him, make his heart beat a little faster. Remus, him, together. Sirius grinned in spite of himself. He turned, and cast his eyes over the piles of boxes, the bare mattress on the wrought iron bed frame, and the detritus of his life that lay scattered about, waiting to be unpacked. Their lives. Together.

“That’s everything, and I’ve finally got rid of Elphias,” Remus said as he walked into the room. He pulled his sunglasses off the top of his head, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. He shoved them into the pocket on his shirt, and walked over to where Sirius stood by the window.

“Elphias is such a legend,” Sirius grinned.

“God, he can talk though,” Remus replied. “I feel like I know his family inside out, and it’s only the second time I’ve met the man.”

Sirius barked out a laugh.

“He just likes a chat,” he said, good-naturedly. “Anyway, enough about Elphias. We’ve got a week until Prongs gets back from his holiday with Evans. What do you want to do with all this free time now we’re here? Christen the bed? Shag on every possible surface?” Sirius wiggled his eyes suggestively, and Remus swatted him on the arm.

“We should unpack,” Remus said finally, looking at the boxes and suitcases that littered the room.

“It’ll wait,” Sirius said, pulling him closer. “Why don’t we go explore the new hood?”

“The hood,” Remus repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Sirius grinned, “the new hood. The ends, the neighby, the homestead, the turf.”

“You are so white.”

“I shall ignore that comment, and direct you to the front door. C’mon.” Sirius held out a hand, and Remus took it, smiling in spite of himself.

They made their way down the two flights of stairs, passing the front door to what would soon be the girls’ flat, and the accountants whose office occupied the ground floor. Stepping out into the hot summer sunshine, Sirius glanced back at the building. Even the name sounded good, he thought. 11, Caraway Street.

“Can you believe we’ve actually done it? Graduated, I mean,” Remus asked, smiling gratefully as Sirius held the garden gate open for him as he stepped onto the street.

“It feels bizarre, doesn’t it?” Sirius hummed, lacing their fingers together as they crossed the road. It was a wide, quiet street on a slight incline, with plane trees in bloom along the pavement and the houses on either side replicas of their own - albeit, somewhat less scruffy.

“I feel a bit bad about Pete, to be honest,” Remus admitted, as they strolled. “It can’t be fun having most of your friends move to London and you’ve moved to Bristol.”

“Eh,” Sirius shrugged, “that’s graduate life, isn’t it? You go where the jobs are. Plus, his job pays so well that he can afford to come visit!”

“True, and I guess it’s not just him who’s not living with friends anymore. Mary and Reg have finally found a flat in Edinburgh.”

“Oh good! I know Mary was worried - Marlene mentioned it the other day on Skype.”

“How is Marlene?”

“She’s doing well,” Sirius said, “tanned as anything. She’s back in the country in the next couple of days, and not happy about it - I think Spain suits her.”

“Sun, sea, and sangria would suit me too,” Remus replied.

“Getting bored of me already, Lupin?” Sirius teased.

Remus was about to reply with a sarcastic comment, when out of the corner of his eye he saw the door to number 26 swung open. He and Sirius stopped at the sound of a rather fake sounding cough.

“Hem, hem.”

They turned, and found themselves face-to-face with a woman who Remus could only describe as looking remarkably like a toad in a cardigan. She had a wide, pallid face with a broad, lipstick-coated mouth that was plastered into such an unpleasant smile that Remus didn’t know where to look. Perched atop her head was a pink velvet bow, matching the fuchsia dress she was wearing, and the sickly, baby pink knitwear she had draped about her shoulders.

“Have you just moved into number eleven?” she asked, in an uncomfortably girlish tone. Remus glanced at Sirius out the corner of his eye.

“Er, yes, we have,” he said.

“Dolores Umbridge, how do you do,” she simpered, stepping forward and extending a hand over the low garden wall.

“How do you do,” Sirius replied, taking her hand. “Sirius Black.”

“Remus Lupin,” Remus said, doing the same in turn.

“So lovely to see such bright smiling faces move into the area,�� she said, looking at Sirius appraisingly. Remus bit his lip to stifle his grin - he was never going to let Sirius live this down, that he was getting checked out by an amphibian in argyle.

“What is it that you’ve moved to Muswell Hill to do?” Umbridge continued.

“I’ve just got a job working as a buyer in a gallery,” Sirius said. “Remus is studying for his masters in History.”

“I see,” Umbridge breathed. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“What is it you do?” Remus asked politely.

“Oh I’m very involved in the local community,” Umbridge simpered, puffing up. “I run the local Conservative association ladies club, you know, and..."

Sirius zoned out, unable to keep his attention on what she was saying when her hands were so distracting. She counted on her stubby little fingers as she spoke, bedecked with some of the most unattractive costume jewellery Sirius had ever seen. One of the rings seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it - amber, with a kind of serpent set in the middle of it.

“And I run the women’s union at the church,” she continued, before enquiring, “have you a faith?”

“Oh yes, hail Satan,” Sirius said, in such a sweet and unassuming tone of voice that Umbridge did a double take to make sure she’d heard him correctly. She paled, her toad-like eyes growing wide with horror.

“He was joking,” Remus said quickly. “Quirky sense of humour, you know.”

“Yes, well…” Umbridge trailed off, looking quickly between the two boys as though she couldn’t work out if they were mocking her.

“Anyway, we must be off,” Sirius said jovially. “It was lovely to meet you, Delilah.”

“Dolores,” Remus muttered.

“Yes! Dolores!”

“And you,” Umbridge replied, her simpering tone returned.

“Goodbye now,” Remus said, and they turned. They walked away with Remus feeling as though Umbridge was watching their every move as they passed further down the street.

“Hail Satan?” Remus said under his breath, once they were out of earshot.

“I couldn’t resist!”

“Well, something tells me that woman is insane.”

“Total fruitcake,” Sirius replied. _________________________

Remus and Sirius spent the afternoon exploring their new home. They walked down Muswell Hill towards Alexandra Palace, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city and browsing the shops as they went. At one point, Sirius tried to buy them ice creams at a little shop run by a very enthusiastic man, who had introduced himself as Florian Fortescue. Upon finding out they had just moved into the area, he had plied them with an ice cream each and categorically insisted that they didn’t pay. They spent a happy few hours lounging in the park, before meandering home.

Later that evening, and once they’d returned to the flat to begin their mammoth task of unpacking, Sirius stepped out to collect their take out food that had been delivered. He walked to the curb, handing over the cash in his hand to the driver and receiving their delivery in return. He had just pushed open the low iron gate, which squeaked horrendously, when a figure seemed to emerge from nowhere in next-door’s garden, springing up. Whatever the figure was wearing seemed to billow about them in the evening breeze, giving an ethereal appearance out the corner of Sirius’ eye. When it spoke, its voice was loud and clear.

“You must be one of our new neighbours!”

Sirius yelped, nearly dropping the bag he was carrying full of take out food. He spun round, and came face-to-face with what was, in fact, an old man. He was tall, and looked rather friendly, as Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest.

“Bloody hell,” he cried, “you scared the life out of me!”

“Sorry,” the old man chuckled. Now Sirius had a chance to look at him properly, he noted the man’s incredible appearance. He had a long white beard, and had on a pair of gold-rimmed, half-moon spectacles, behind which were a pair of electric blue eyes. They were surrounded by wrinkles, and glittered with amusement and inquisitiveness. Atop his equally long white hair was perched a little hat with a gold tassel, and what had seemed like eerie robes were in fact a rather striking midnight blue dressing gown, embroidered with constellations.

“Albus Dumbledore,” he said, extending a hand. Sirius took it, surprised by the strength of the old man’s grip.

“Sirius Black,” he replied.

“Black, Black,” Dumbledore repeated, looking like he was searching his mind as though it were a filing cabinet. He scanned Sirius’ face. “Not the Grimmauld Blacks?”

“Unfortunately,” Sirius smiled ruefully.

“Orion Black?”

“My father. Again, unfortunately.”

“I think I saw your father in court, once.”

“Really?” Sirius frowned.

“I was a lawyer for a long time,” Dumbledore said, “before I became a professor.”

“Oh, well then, you’d have got the full force of my father’s stellar personality, he hates lawyers. Let me guess, it was tax evasion, or something like that?”

“Something like that, yes,” Dumbledore smiled softly. He lifted his left hand, and Sirius saw him holding a trowel. “I’m sorry for scaring you, I should have thought that you weren’t expecting anyone. I have to do the gardening at night at the moment, as it’s too hot during the day.”

Sirius was about to reply, when the front door of Dumbledore’s house opened, and out stepped a woman who he would have described as old, but nowhere near as old as the gentleman standing in front of him. She had a lined and somewhat stern face, and was dressed in a dark green shirtwaist dress, with her dark hair pulled back into a bun.

“Albus, did you- oh!”

She had a clipped Scottish accent, and looked surprised to see Dumbledore speaking to someone. She stepped out of the front door, and crossed the garden.

“Minerva,” Dumbledore said warmly, as she approached. “This is one of our new neighbours - I’m afraid I’ve just frightened the life out of the poor boy.”

“No harm done,” Sirius said kindly, and smiled at the woman.

“Minerva McGonagall,” she said.

“Sirius,” he replied, deciding to leave off his surname. No doubt the old man would share it later.

“Have you lived here long?” Sirius asked, politely, while acutely aware that the takeaway in his bag was cooling.

“Minerva’s lived here for, what, twenty years?” Dumbledore said, turning to look at her.

“Twenty three.”

“She’s an old friend,” Dumbledore continued, “and very kindly offered to let me lodge with her. I moved in only last year. We practiced law together for many years.”

“Lovely.”

“You’ve just moved in then?” McGonagall asked, albeit a little suspiciously.

“Yes, just me and my boyfriend at the moment. Lazy first night, you know, thought we’d order in,” Sirius said, lifting the takeout bag up.

“We’ll let you get on,” Dumbledore said warmly, “and hopefully we’ll meet again soon.”

“It was lovely to meet you,” Sirius said to them both, and stepped back across the flowerbed he’d been standing in to the garden path.

“Cheerio, then,” Dumbledore smiled, and Sirius waved. He turned, and fished about in his pocket for his house keys. Remus would wonder where he’d got to, he thought. Finding the keys, he stepped onto the front step, and just as he was about to put the key into the lock, Sirius heard a hushed tone from the next-door garden.

“Do you know, Minerva, that young man is the son of Orion Black?”

“No!” Sirius heard the woman reply. “He seemed positively pleasant!”

Always the tone of surprise, Sirius thought, grinning and letting himself into the house.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Happy Together : 2

Small World

Character(s): (deceptively) dark!Steve

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. It goes without (and with) saying that this is 18+.

Series Synopsis: The reader is stood up while awaiting a blind date, instead finding herself keeping company with the restaurant’s famous owner; Steve Rogers. After that night, she tries to forget her humiliation but she just can’t shake one thing about that night: him.

Chapter Summary: The reader sees a familiar face.

Notes: For reference to setting, see the previous chapter. As for this one, I hope you have patience. Now, Witness kinda took a few chapters to get to the crux, but this one might take a little longer. ;) But I promise, it’s going to be some very fucked up Steve eventually. In advance, I thank everyone for following along and soon I will start adding to other WIPs one Witness is finished (maybe finally start that Medieval AU lol) <3

Thanks to everyone who reads and as always, I looked forward to hearing from you in the replies/reblogs/tags/asks. <3

You were annoyed that you had wasted time at that restaurant waiting on yet another unreliable and selfish man. You could’ve used the hour finishing your latest commission but instead you spent your Saturday morning on the project. You usually tried to save that day for yourself. Self-employed, you made it a priority to work at least six days a week. You were paid well enough, quite successful as it was, but you liked the security of having a little extra under your belt. Besides, it always made you anxious to think that you could be actually doing something instead of lazing around on your couch watching Netflix.

Plus, you needed the distraction from your self-pity. The humiliation lingered for a few days after and even your work couldn’t erase it entirely. Why hadn’t he come? Was it an innocent case of forgetfulness? Or maybe he had changed his mind after seeing you. Tandi had exchanged your information via Facebook and he had seen your photo the same as you had his. Perhaps he hadn’t been as pleased at the prospect. Ugh, you didn’t even know him. Just forget it!

It was Wednesday and the disappointment was still a speck at the edge of your mind. It was sunny for once, a light jacket over your blouse and jeans as you basked in the warming spring air. You walked merrily to the park, happy to be outside, refreshed almost. You found a place on one of the bench, the melody of birds and interspersed voices of people filling the flowery air. You pulled your tablet and pen from your leather tote and opened up your program, working on the outline of the geometric logo you had started the night before.

Every now and then you looked up from your work and admired the serenity nestled amidst the chaotic city. You crossed your legs, resting your tablet against your knee and continued to draw, the sunlight hugging you. A blur moved across the top of your vision and paused, looming closer and you slowly looked up. The tablet nearly slid off your knee as you spotted the man approaching you. It couldn’t be.

“Hey, it’s you,” Steve greeted, his perfect smile shining brighter than the sky. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name the other night.”

“Um, Y/N,” You answer, shading your eyes from the sun beaming over his shoulder, “You remember me?”

“A face like yours is easy to remember,” He replied coyly, “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Yeah, I uh...know,” You admitted shyly, “Thanks again…”

“Oh, it was nothing,” He waved away the gratuity, “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Go ahead,” You shrugged, steadying your tablet across your knee.

“Are you drawing something?” He asked, your tablet half-dimmed as it threatened to lock.

“Yeah. Working actually,” You explained, clicking the sleep button and shifting the screen against your thigh. “I’m a graphic artist.”

“Ah,” He nodded, “Makes sense. It must be fun. Doing something creative like that.”

“It can be,” You answered, “I…” You paused, his eyes never leaving yours. He was so intent on you, as if no one else was in the park. How had he picked you out among the crowd? Half of New York had probably been in his restaurant. You shook away the overly paranoid questions and continued. “Depends on the job, really. I mostly just do corporate logos and designs. Can’t really get paid for what I want to draw.”

“Well, what do you like to draw?” He stretched his arm over the back of the bench, you almost didn’t notice as it slid behind you. You were sure it was just a casual gesture, a habit he didn’t give much thought to, but it felt entirely too intimate.

“Life, I guess. People, animals, trees. I just like to create scenes, not just...symbols,” You said, nervously twirling the pen between your fingers. “I prefer to paint, really.”

“Oh, yeah? Do have any of them on that thing?” He pointed to the tablet, “Anything you’re willing to show me?” You blinked as his tone caught you off-guard. He was talking about your art and yet it seemed like he meant something more. You could’ve sworn his eyes had strayed from your face for just a second. God, you were crazy. After being stood up and nearly two years by yourself, you were growing delusional.

“I might, I, um...one second,” You unlocked your tablet and saved your work. You opened your gallery and flipped through your files, settling on a quick sketch you had done of a sparrow that had built a nest outside your building. “It’s just a drawing, but, um, here.”

You handed over the tablet and he tilted it so he could see the screen, his brows lifting as his eyes ran over the lines and shadows done in monochrome, splashes of auburn here and there to give a hint of life to the sketch. “Wow, that’s really good.” He looked up, holding the tablet out to you, “You’re very talented.”

“Thanks,” You looked away shyly, “Really, it’s just a sketch. I’ve seen way better.”

“No, no, what you do is amazing. You shouldn’t compare yourself to others,” He smiled as you took the tablet, your fingers brushing his by accident. “You’re you and that makes it more than a sketch. It’s art.”

You allowed yourself a small smile. “Thank you,” You locked your tablet again and set it on your lap, resting your pen beside it.

“Well,” He slowly pulled his arm out from behind you, his warmth releasing you as he stood. “I’ll leave you to it. I’d hate to keep you from you work.” He checked his watch as he spoke, “And I’ve got to get to the restaurant for dinner service.” He looked back to you, his blue eyes searching you, considering you closely as he measured his next words, “You should definitely come back some time. You know, no date required.”

“Yeah, uh, sure,” You nodded evasively. You didn’t really want to admit that you couldn’t go back not because you were dateless but because you had bills. “It was, uh, surprising to run into you.”

“You, too,” He grinned, his golden brows twitching, “The special tonight is salmon. You should give it a try….have a good one.”

He turned away, strolling across the park and onto the street. You drew your brows together as you saw a silver car pull up and he got inside. Why would he be walking through the park if he had a town car? You shook your head and readjusted your tablet across your knee. Maybe he had just gotten out to stretch. You doubted he had gone out of his way to bug you.

-------------

You balanced the mugs, careful not to spill any of the foam as you walked between tables and found your seat by the window. Tandi was sat with her phone out, grinning at the screen like an idiot. You set her latte in front of her and cupped your own warm mug as you sat down. She finished typing and relinquished her phone on the table. She looked up at you, starry-eyed over her latest fling. Well, they’d been seeing each other for a couple months so maybe it was getting serious.

“I’m real sorry about Danny,” She said. She had arrived as you were waiting in line, grabbing a seat as you bided your time in the queue. Your mouth twitched and you looked away. The heat still rose in your cheeks whenever you thought of the painful hour spent in the restaurant. It had been more than a week.

“It’s not your fault,” You grumbled, “It was just embarrassing...I can’t believe I sat there that long. It was like everyone was staring at me.”

“I’m sure they weren’t, but it was a dick thing to do. I’ve blocked him on Snap, Facebook, and Twitter.” She smirked, “So yeah, fuck him.”

“Ha, thanks,” You scoffed, raising your mug to sip from it, the foam cooling the espresso. Your eyes wandered out the window as you leaned back in your chair.

“You know, not all guys are like that, Y/N,” She trilled, “Carson’s a nice guy and he has lots of friends.”

“I don’t want to date any of your boyfriend’s bros,” You protested, watching the passerbys through the glass. “Carson’s nice but not my type and I can’t imagine his friends are of a different cut.”

“Well, you should at least consider someone. Anyone!” She said dramatically, but before you could chuckle it caught in your throat. You swore you recognized that blonde head across the street. You couldn’t say for sure as it quickly ducked into the suit shop and you blinked as the mug in your hand wobbled. You steadied your grip and turned back to Tandi. Right, you were going crazy.

“I will. One day. But I’m fine right now. Work’s good and steady and I feel pretty good. I can do what I want when I want...Living with Mike was difficult and I didn’t even realize how much I hated it til he was gone.” You stopped yourself before you could get too emotional. “I know it’s been a long time, but I’m working on it, a little at a time.”

“I know…” She reached over and touched the back of your hand, “I just want you to be happy; healthy.”

You smiled. A genuine smile. Not the one you put on for strangers or when you were anxious. A real one and it felt good. You took another gulp and waited for Tandi to begin her usual train of gossip. She always had the messiest stories about her workplace; she was an actor and had garnered many a theatre job, enough at least to keep her studio apartment. Once she began, it was hard to stop her and your latte was drained by the time she finished.

Her phone shook the table. She flipped it over and checked the notification, her face shone. “Carson’s back from his trip,” She almost sang. You stared at her and sighed as her eyes rounded brightly.

“Go on,” You relented, “You’re free to go. I won’t keep you. Just call me when you get a chance...if you get a chance.”

“Thank you,” She stood so quickly she hit the table with her hip. She pulled on her thin trench, pulling taught the belt around her thin waist. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know. That’s why I’m letting you go,” You crossed your arm, “Just let me know you’ve arrived safely. You know I’m paranoid.”

“Sure, sure,” She leaned down to give you half-hug, “I’ll see you.”

“See you,” You patted her lower back in return, “Bye.”

You watched her go, content at least with the hour shared with her. You couldn’t expect her to put her life on hold because you had. You weren’t bitter but you mulled her words. Just because one jerk had stood you up didn’t mean they all would. Maybe not today or tomorrow or the next day, but you’d be ready to start again one day. For now, you wanted to pop into the used bookstore just across the street. You always found something interesting there.

You stepped out into the cool spring afternoon, the evening looming as a hint of rain floated in the air. You ran across the street and hopped up onto the curb, your focus solely on the book shop. You entered with a ring, the small bell above the door announcing your entrance. The storekeeper was sat at a desk stacked with book, the daily newspaper held aloft like a shield. You headed for the back shelves where vintage magazines were kept in old filing crates. You liked to use them for inspiration.

As you picked out decades-old issues, the bell jingled again but you didn’t pay much heed to the arrival of another. You continued to thumb through the magazines until you had half a dozen, content that they would last you a while. You stood and looked along the shelf, walking parallel to it slowly as you read the titles of ancient odes and medieval limericks. You stopped to pull out a collection of Wordsworth, the spine thin and worn, easily falling open in your hand.

“Excuse me,” The voice interrupted you before you could finish reading the title of the first poem. It was oddly familiar. Your lashes fluttered in disbelief, “You dropped…” Steve’s voice died and he chuckled as you turned to him slowly, “You again.”

“Uh-huh,” You mumbled warily. It had been him on the street retreating into the suit shop. That would prove he had been in the area for more than an hour but why? He held no wares from his visit to the tailor’s. Another coincidence? Surely, you weren’t that special.

“As I was saying, you dropped this,” He held up the white pen you used with your tablet. It had likely slipped out as you knelt at the crates.

“Thanks,” You accepted it and tucked it snuggly in the side pocket.

“What’s that you got there?” He asked, nodding at the book in your hand.

“Nothing,” You closed it and placed it back on the shelf. “I was just wasting time.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, resting his hand on the shelf as he leaned on it casually. “I just kinda stumbled in. Saw this copy of Dante’s Inferno,” He held up the painted cover which depicted an eerie cave spiralling ever downward, “My mother used to keep a copy but I never read it. Thought maybe I could give it a try.”

“Cool,” You hugged the magazines to you chest. Something about him being there at that exact moment was off. The unease was stronger than it had been at the park; his spontaneous visit had been more believable then. You tried to smile. You were being dumb. And what were you even afraid of? He used to be an Avenger. He was good guy. “I was actually just about to head--”

A clap of thunder shrouded your next words. You looked past the bookshelves as the light rain you had failed to notice through the window began to pour down in sheets. Your distress must have been plain as your lips parted slightly.

“Do you need a ride?” He asked, shaking you from your despair. You looked back to him and tried to think of something. Anything.

“I’ll catch a cab,” You shrugged him off, trying to seem unperturbed. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t waste your money. You can share my town car. He’s just outside. I’m sure you don’t live too far out of the way.” He smirked, his hand shifting along the shelf as he edged closer. You almost didn’t notice the subtle movement.

“Really, I can’t. You’ve already done enough. I really should, um, go.” You back away only to find the corner at your back.

“I won’t let you say no,” He asserted, “Come on. Just a car ride. That’s it. I mean, do you really wanna stand out in this and hail a cab?”

You stared up at him as you considered the invitation. Why were you so reluctant? He had done nothing to earn your distrust. If anything, he had only done you favours. But why? Oh, shut up brain, he wasn’t Mike. Or Danny. He actually seemed like a decent human being so why were you being so dumb?

“Okay,” You relented, “Sure. Why not.”

****

tags:  @ruff-m3rc @alexakeyloveloki @lanabanana-86 @sathlens @jessieray98 @kellyn1604 @ahideousthinginside @ironlady1993 @kloe-iel @grayxswan @iheartsebastianstan @myboyfriendgiriboy @tanelle83 @patzammit @phoenix21love @they-call-me-le @iheartsebastianstan

[nny11writes]

1, 33 and 48 for the writers ask meme? :)

1. Tell us about your WIP!

Oh god which one?????? Fic I’m currently get good writing in on and excited about is How to Quit You which is already posting but not finished. Buuuuut, I think I want to talk a hot second more about the dang Art Model AU that jumped me in a back alley. One of my friends has a story she’s writing/planning for a different fandom (Power Rangers: Jungle Fury!) and we were hashing through her idea that one of the characters was an art model back in college and he took his crush to an art gallery where a nude of him was hung up.  I liked it! And then weeks go back by, maybe months, and suddenly all I can think is, “How fucking hilarious would it be if Adora was an art model? Like, she’s not ashamed of her body or nudity, she’s not bothered by the process or images of her being put out into the art world.” and then the very next thought was, “We all like hc Catra as an artist in Modern AUs, oh my god she could be the disaster lesbian she is!”

And now I’m a few thousand words into it and Adora has started attending the drawing sessions when she’s not a model with a cheap drug store “art book” and her mechanical pencil she chewed to death. Because she’s fallen for the mean artist and wants to impress her she has a genuine interest in learning how to draw even if everything she puts on paper looks like a misshapen potato.

I’m going to force them to ride in the car while Animotion’s Obsession plays on the radio and they both break out into a sweat.

(Warning for that song, it’s one of those “oh this is so catchy, but I can’t hear lyrics when listening to new songs” and then I looked it up and it’s a bit date rapey. Like, why do so many 80′s tunes I like end up really skeevey?)

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like?

I would hesitate to say I even have an actual process for revisions and rewrites. Basically, every time I open my doc to work I always go back to the start of the chapter I’m working on and re-read until I hit where I need to write.

This gets me in the right head space for the fic, helps me remember what the characters are doing/plot, and nail down the same tone in my writing.

But it also means that every time I write I do a bit of editing before hand. Heck, if I need to re-read an older chapter or skip ahead to a later one to double check consistency I’ll do some editing /while/ I’m writing as well.

Because I tend to look at one fic then a different one then a different one, with no consistent schedule it ends up being the great advice of write it and walk away. Come back a day or two later and look at it again because you’ll see more errors that way.

I think this isn’t the best system for most people. A lot of folks need some separation between writing and editing so that they don’t hamstring themselves via perfectionism. I’ve been learning over the last year that I’m, in fact, not a fat lazy bastard like I’ve always thought I was. I am, in fact, a fat overachieving hype-man. Which is wild! So I know I fall into that trap sometimes too.

Great example is Chapter 18 of how to quit you, I wrote the chapter, edited that for about two or three months, then realized it was really not good and deleted it to start over, edited that for a few weeks and realized it’s still not right. So I might need to delete it again but I’m going to try and fix it via smaller section re-writes and adjusting what I thought I wanted plot wise. But what chapter isn’t finished and is next to be posted? Chapter 11. Fucking, god damn it all. Almost every chapter from 11-14 has been heavily ignored despite needing to be in the story and being good I just can’t get my brain to work. So instead I get stuck editing and editing and editing and not WRITING.

On the other hand, I tend to bulldog it and then when I do ask people to edit/beta read there’s not as much obvious stuff that they have to slog through since I’ve caught most of my common spelling mistakes (-ign instead of -ing will kill me some day), tense mistakes, and consistency errors.

I like doing it this way, and while it can get it the way it normally helps. But again...it’s not exactly planned out. I just launch into a fic and go “cool I wanna write something for this fic” and I’m not a chronological writer so god speed little dude.

48. Do you prefer to write skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut it back?

I mean, kinda like I talked about above I tend to edit and polish parts of my draft while still actively writing other parts of it. Like, with the same chapter and across the whole fic.

I honestly fall into both categories because I’m somewhat of a blend of them. I lean more towards expanding on what I’ve already written but I don’t tend to write super skimpy drafts that need actual fleshing out.

I do love [I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENS BUT TRANSITIONS ARE MAGIC] for areas I have a vague idea about, but there’s usually fully fleshed out scenes on either side of it. It’s just when I’m doing the editing to write thing that I’ll sometimes go, “Oh, wait, this would be much more impactful if I expanded a bit more.” So a one off line about Obi-Wan realizing that Palpatine ordered Maul to kill Qui Gon and is trying to corrupt Anakin, became a third of a chapter that I felt was really well rounded already both before and after that moment. Or a short paragraph about Glimmer and Catra riding back into work devolved into them teasing one another and got some good descriptions in (I’m so bad at describing physical things in stories, so that one line about Catra’s cheeks looking like hibiscus from her blushing was fucking god tier for me), and all the sudden I didn’t just have a short transition area, I had a full blown scene. (Thank you again dontcallmebugaboo for listening to me ramble about how the transition sucked and I didn’t know what I wanted to do, and you just said “romantic horse ride” and the clouds fucking parted, ilu) The most COMMON version of this is when Characters Suddenly Take Over and completely derail my story. Because then as I look around I go, “Hey yeah that could work, but I need a chapter about A and then need to seed in more references to B before I can expand on C.”  

So idk is the short answer lol. I tend to write things out as I go along and every so often I get jumped in a dark alleyway.