thecelestrium

[thecelestrium]

charmed rewatch ♡ from fear to eternity The Demon of Fear goes after the Halliwell’s by accessing their inner most fears to defeat them.

[thecelestrium]

12. how do you deal with self-doubt?

ps: i'm working on something for drarry around the world 🤭

ahhh I am SO excited at what you'll make!! there have already been two wonderful entries to the collection, it makes me so happy to see, and I can't wait for yours to be part of it too!

as for #12, how do you deal with self-doubt...

I don't always do it well or at all. There are some days when the doubt feels so big it's like something sitting on my hands when I try to write, like staring through a brick wall of doubt trying to see the screen in front of me. I can get really stuck in the whole "what's the point of writing this?" and I lose sight of the heart of the story in favor of falling down into a rabbit hole of nit-picking things I've done before.

I've gone to the edge of deleting pieces half-way through and been talked back by folks who care about me more than once, even pieces that others end up really liking. I've been blown away by all the nice comments on pieces I've written -- my recently released Wireless, for example, or last year's advent fic. Both of those are pieces where I hit a doubt-wall with and nearly didn't share, nearly didn't finish.

I say all of this because one of the number one things that has helped me keep writing is hearing from writers I really admire about how much they have also struggled in similar ways.

It's so easy to think that everyone around me must have it all figured out, or that writers I love and am in constant awe of sit at their keys and have magic flow from their fingertips, since that's what reading their work feels like.

The reality isn't quite so true. And that's comforting to me, and maybe for you too.

Here are a few things that have helped me get through these hard patches:

There is no one in the world with your exact same life experience. So there's no one who can make what you're making in precisely the same way.

You don't have to be a good writer if you can be a good editor. (You also don't have to be a good editor if you don't want to be. You just have to get the story out).

There is someone out there who can relate to the story you want to tell. There is someone out there who wants to read the style/length/pairing you want to write.

When you write or make art or record a podfic, you're making something that didn't exist before. You're creating into the world. How cool is that?

You're allowed to doubt. And you're allowed to be confident. There's no one way to be a maker, neither doubt nor confidence marks you as a creative.

Every single creator you admire -- in fic or in offline life -- has dealt with self-doubt. And if they haven't, they probably will one day. Ask them about it, if you feel like it.

For now, all you need to do is make yourself a cup of tea (or a beverage of your choice), sit down, and write three things you like about your work. You don't have to like everything. But you probably like at least three things. Find those. Write them down. Put them somewhere you'll see them. And give yourself grace -- even if your doubts remain, there are pieces of your work that are beautiful and important to you, and that's what matters most. Good luck, anon! Can't wait to travel with you.

[thecelestrium]

I wish fandom would be treated like the lighthearted niche hobby it is and not like… a form of political activism which you must use to show off how woke you are

[thecelestrium]

exchange

[thecelestrium]

Sooo tomorrow‘s the big day! 🎃

That’s why i thought - Why not put aside university and inktober (i am determined to finish that) and do a silly little Halloween special comic.

What will they wear? What will they think about the muggle Halloween traditions? Are they going to expose themselves as wizards? - Well you have to wait till tomorrow to find out.

Hope you enjoy it ! ✨🐝

(Also I kind of decided to give Harry eyes from now on. )

[thecelestrium]

Writing absolutely was easier when you were younger simply because you knew less of the craft. The more you learn increases the pressure to live up to your own knowledge base. You can see flaws in your work that you (probably) weren’t aware of before and this gives the false impression of creative back-sliding. This can be extremely discouraging and you may long for those early days when writing seemed so much easier. But that longing is rooted in a lie. Ignorance truly is bliss. So take pride in the fact that your struggles are the byproduct of improving your craft. Your work is not as bad as you think, you simply have a much stronger magnifying glass than you used to so the flaws seem bigger than they truly are.

[thecelestrium]

Greaser!Draco AU

If you love my work please support me :)

[thecelestrium]

Couple Selfies - Pansy x Neville 🖤🌿

Pansy showing off the beau 😜

[thecelestrium]

I feel like only I could write an original Drarry shortfic and then flood my tumblr with posts straight after of Carry On, promptly burying my work.... - hence here it is again, whilst I sleep!

Drarry: a Needed Conversation

The Drarry conversation that belongs to know fic, I just felt a compulsion to write it. May expand if I find a plot or if people ask for it.

Period: Eighth Year @ Hogwarts

Relationship: Former Enemies, now? Unknown. 

—

“You were a product of your surroundings. Someone forced into a situation because, if you didn’t, you and those you care about wouldn’t survive. We’re more alike than you think.” spoke Harry, in that soft timber that Draco was becoming more familiar with these days. He stared out along the courtyard, bundled in his robes and scarf, nose turning a shade a pink. 

Draco snorted, bitterly, “Yes, I’m constantly told how similar I am to the Wizarding World’s Saviour.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I think you’ve been huffing too much broom polish.” Harry looked at him from the corner of his eye and simply shook his head. 

“Before the prophecy, I was just a boy with a loving wizard family. That’s all I was going to be.” He hesitated, kicking a stone where his leg dangled over the stone wall. “It’s all I was supposed to be… People believe the prophecy predicted my success.” The tones of his voice jumped in a mocking tone around the last word, quoting it from somewhere. Harry turned to look Draco in the eyes, “It’s all bollocks, honestly. Did you know that I wasn’t the only possibility? Neville fit the criteria as much as I did.” 

Draco’s eyes bulged, his mouth hanging open. Longbottom? The Saviour? Sure he stabbed that bloody snake but the saviour? 

“Dumbledore and the others…” Harry trailed off, conflicted emotions flickered across his face as he looked away, “Their decision that it was about me - that’s what set the prophecy in motion, not the other way around.” He wrangled his hands around in his lap, “Granted, there’s no saying my parents would’ve survived if Voldemort ignored the prophecy. The First War would’ve continued, they’d still be in the Order… the Prophecy just… expedited their deaths, I guess.” His eyes squinted, like he was envisioning the words that he wanted to say and was pushing them out. He probably was. Whilst Potter may, somehow, be a leader, that doesn’t mean he’s as eloquent as one may think. 

Harry spoke quietly, his voice croaking gently, “I like to have the hope, though. The wonder of what could’ve been, what life I would’ve had if they lived.” Draco watched the etches in Harry’s features, the frowning eyes but the small smile. He recognised it in himself. 

“The wonder of what would’ve happened if Longbottom was the Saviour, instead?” Draco spoke with measured words, despite it making no sense. He’s never bothered to make bold remarks surrounding Harry and his family in the past. Never thought he’d be about to start, either. 

Harry nodded softly, “Yeah… yeah. Hm,” he huffs out a bitter laugh, “I’m not as heroic or saintly as everyone likes to think.” 

“Not everyone, Potter.”

[thecelestrium]

I was expecting it to be a backpack that also has two wing holes in the sides so it’d look like a backpack with wings like:

WAIT I JUST SOLVED ALL OF SIMONS WING WARDROBE ISSUES

[thecelestrium]

Baz and simons relationship escalated in the carry on books entirely because they forgot to say 'no homo' before holding hands to make magical stars surround them

[thecelestrium]

if watford kids just played enough truth or dare as kids snowbaz would’ve happened so fast. think of a more entertaining dare than making the campus sworn enemies kiss

[thecelestrium]

Drarry: a Needed Conversation

The Drarry conversation that belongs to know fic, I just felt a compulsion to write it. May expand if I find a plot or if people ask for it.

Period: Eighth Year @ Hogwarts

Relationship: Former Enemies, now? Unknown. 

---

“You were a product of your surroundings. Someone forced into a situation because, if you didn’t, you and those you care about wouldn’t survive. We’re more alike than you think.” spoke Harry, in that soft timber that Draco was becoming more familiar with these days. He stared out along the courtyard, bundled in his robes and scarf, nose turning a shade a pink. 

Draco snorted, bitterly, “Yes, I’m constantly told how similar I am to the Wizarding World’s Saviour.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I think you’ve been huffing too much broom polish.” Harry looked at him from the corner of his eye and simply shook his head. 

“Before the prophecy, I was just a boy with a loving wizard family. That’s all I was going to be.” He hesitated, kicking a stone where his leg dangled over the stone wall. “It’s all I was supposed to be… People believe the prophecy predicted my success.” The tones of his voice jumped in a mocking tone around the last word, quoting it from somewhere. Harry turned to look Draco in the eyes, “It’s all bollocks, honestly. Did you know that I wasn’t the only possibility? Neville fit the criteria as much as I did.” 

Draco’s eyes bulged, his mouth hanging open. Longbottom? The Saviour? Sure he stabbed that bloody snake but the saviour? 

“Dumbledore and the others…” Harry trailed off, conflicted emotions flickered across his face as he looked away, “Their decision that it was about me - that’s what set the prophecy in motion, not the other way around.” He wrangled his hands around in his lap, “Granted, there’s no saying my parents would’ve survived if Voldemort ignored the prophecy. The First War would’ve continued, they’d still be in the Order… the Prophecy just… expedited their deaths, I guess.” His eyes squinted, like he was envisioning the words that he wanted to say and was pushing them out. He probably was. Whilst Potter may, somehow, be a leader, that doesn’t mean he’s as eloquent as one may think. 

Harry spoke quietly, his voice croaking gently, “I like to have the hope, though. The wonder of what could’ve been, what life I would’ve had if they lived.” Draco watched the etches in Harry’s features, the frowning eyes but the small smile. He recognised it in himself. 

“The wonder of what would’ve happened if Longbottom was the Saviour, instead?” Draco spoke with measured words, despite it making no sense. He’s never bothered to make bold remarks surrounding Harry and his family in the past. Never thought he’d be about to start, either. 

Harry nodded softly, “Yeah… yeah. Hm,” he huffs out a bitter laugh, “I’m not as heroic or saintly as everyone likes to think.” 

“Not everyone, Potter.”

[thecelestrium]

Written for day four @hpkinktober prompt Amortentia.

Thank you so so much to @rockingrobin69 for the wonderful beta and great cheerleading. You really helped my spirits.

Amortentia is fickle. It's a fickle potion, due to how its properties constantly change. The ingredients stay the same, Draco knows them like the back of his hand. But the smell changes — consistently.

He would brew small portions, to keep a few vials on hand. Wanting the shop to smell comforting, clean and welcoming with the potion happily bubbling in the far back, behind a closed door.

Everyone smelled something distinct, a sensitive nose to what was lingering around the bottles, trinkets and ingredients. All customers would comment on the fragrance of the shop, saying how lovely the smells always were. Many would comment on the familiarity, only changing the most miniscule amount. Draco always found that rather fascinating.

Were these people falling out of love? Did their heart split into two and the aroma linger on two or more objects of their affections? Draco always wondered and pondered. Others would stop in while browsing and compliment the new fragrance for today, making Draco aware of their own hearts wandering nature.

It was something to pass the time. Pure amusement when he would watch his customers’ eyes glaze lightly — the smell entrancing them for mere seconds. Shaking their heads and continuing on as if nothing had stopped them in their tracks.

He enjoyed this, but also did this for selfish reasons. His shop was home, and this helped solidify that notion. Smells being the closest to memory and emotion — Draco knew how his Amortentia smelled.

It never did change.

When Granger first walks into the shop, a tiny bell tinkling announcing her arrival, Draco is rather surprised. She asks about Valerian root, and what potions he has in stock for sleeping aid. He's still rather surprised she's even here, looking at his inventory and asking about proper sleep potions.

However, she does compliment how clean the shop is — and how gorgeous it smells.

"Like a crisp autumn morning and baked treats. A lot like treacle tart."

He knows his eyebrows raise to his hairline, and also knows she has to be smelling Weasley. Which is a little off-putting — but he thinks it's because Weasley has never really been his favorite person. He'd rather not know what he smells like.

Granger brings Potter into the shop a few days later. Draco finds it amusing how he ogles the crystals at one side of the shop, eyes wide with wonder. Poking at the magical plants in the corner and picking up a few potions for purchase.

Almost as if he hasn't been a wizard all his life.

They both walk towards the counter as Draco opens the till and the smell is so overwhelming that tears prickle his eyes as he raises a hand quickly to his nose.

"Are — are you alright?" Potter looks concerned and Granger has one brow raised in a quizzical expression.

"Yes — I thought I was going to sneeze. Pardon me."

Draco continues with their purchase, with the bouquet circling up and around his nose, filling his head and making him float.

It's broom polish, sandalwood with hints of citrus. Still the same after all these years —he just wasn't aware of who the potion portrayed.

Days go by, and he contemplates the idea of throwing away any and all of the potion that sits in his back room, behind the closed door. Wants to scrub the pearlescent liquid away and never have it trace his shop again.

But this smell — the one that smells of home and love. He's grown so accustomed to it, that he can't bring himself to toss the cauldron. Lets it simmer and sit like he always does. The incense and deep perfume still wafting throughout his shop as he sits in the back with the small sign on the door flipped to closed.

Granger is a regular now. Picking up items that she needs for additional health purposes, potions for Weasley and their tiny freckled baby at home. She's an interesting witch, though Draco will never speak that aloud to anyone — she invites him to the pub. His mouth hangs open and she smiles as he agrees and is now irritated with the predicament he's placed himself in.

He slides into the seat next to Granger as she passes him a glass of whiskey and a pint.

"I wasn't sure what you drank, so I grabbed the drinks I thought you might enjoy."

He smiles at her, and feels oddly at home.

Draco is well into his third pint when Potter stops by, sliding into the open seat next to him.

"Hello. Hermione did say that you'd be here this evening."

Potter grins and Draco's stomach jumps into his throat. He's never really been this close to Potter before and he smells exactly like his shop. He's mortified with himself and doesn't quite understand it.

The smell has never changed all these years.

"Did you work today?" Potter takes a sip from his glass, foam stuck to his beard as he dabs it away with a napkin.

"Earlier I did, yes." Draco sips on the small shot of whiskey, the burn sliding all the way down his throat.

"Ah, that makes sense — you smell just like your shop. It's like parchment and lavender. I always wondered how you made it smell so nice."

Draco chokes on the rest of his whiskey.

[thecelestrium]

“He stopped on a picture of his parents’ wedding day. There was his father waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing up in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his dad. And there … that must be him. Their best man… Harry had never given him a thought before … His face wasn’t sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. ( Prisoner of Azkaban - Chapter 11)”

[thecelestrium]

Welcome!

Welcome to The Celestrium: dream big, dream wide.

Hi there. I have made a new tumblr (very much a work in progress) as a more ‘professional’ [ha] one, compared to my main blog which is just a mess. A full list of my AO3 Fics (minus the ones I don’t like) has been uploaded on my profile, as well as, the beginnings of my fic recommendations. 

At the moment, my fics are predominantly in the Carry On [Snowbaz] (currently on hiatus until I read Book 3...) and Alexa & Katie [Katie/Aiden] fandoms. I have hopes to progress into other areas like: Harry Potter [Want to reread before I do], Charmed (90s) [to expand on the universe when finished rewatch], W.I.T.C.H [expand on the C.H.Y.K.N Era] and more. 

I hope I can use this tumblr to interact more with other people interested in the same things as me and to push myself to keep up to date with writing. I’ll be using this area more to upload drabbles etc. 

 You can find me on:

AO3: @ Quinzelle

Instagram: @ TheCelestrium