#i do intend to finish it eventually

[shivunin]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @greypetrel--thank you for thinking of me, friend! I've got a few things banked that I don't think I've shared yet c: (Tagging, in turn, @vakarians-babe @cullenvhenan @ndostairlyrium @dungeons-and-dragon-age @brother-genitivi @heniareth @zenstrike @palipunk @daggerbean @jtownnn, if any of you would like to share something!) Here is a sweet snippet from that Act 2 piece I've been talking about. This particular chapter lines up with parts of Palimpsest, if you've read it, and makes sense enough on its own if you haven't:

Fenris’s eyes found hers unerringly the moment he stepped through the doorway. There was something on his face—something intense, vital, having nothing to do with anger or regret. The sight of it jolted her, and though she’d been playing the tipsy fool for nearly half an hour now she almost gave up the act at once to ask him what he meant by it. 

He swung a leg over the bench and sat beside her, just as he had for years now, but something new hummed in the empty space between them. She could hear it under the conversation and laughter of her friends, feel it in the moments when her sleeve brushed against his shoulder, see it when she glanced his way and the corner of his mouth rose in a faint but noticeable smile. 

What was this?

Maria didn’t know. It made her giddy, brought a flush to her cheeks. She was grateful for the latter, for it made her performance of drunkenness even more convincing, but it also felt…it was too much. She’d felt only echoes before, the flutter in her chest when he gestured in that elegant way he had, the heat in her ears that she batted aside whenever she watched him execute an especially graceful or brutal maneuver during a fight. She knew how she felt about him; she could list a dozen reasons that she shouldn’t feel them (foremost amongst them that he couldn’t be comfortable with that sort of attention) and a hundred reasons why she couldn’t help herself regardless. She hadn’t spent the last three years debating herself for and against it for nothing, for the Maker’s sake, but this—

When they all stepped out into the night air, she was relieved. It cooled some of the flush on her cheeks, though not soon enough to hide it from the others. 

“D’you feel a fever coming on, Hawke?” Merrill asked from Isabela’s back, her eyes glassy with too much drink. Even so, she lifted cool hands and patted Maria’s face carefully, feeling her forehead and cheeks in turn. “I’ve a draught for it in my room if you’re getting sick.”

“I’m fine,” Hawke assured her, reaching up to hug her one-armed, “just a bit too much to drink.” 

Merrill hummed in acknowledgement and snuggled her head back into Isabela’s shoulder. Isabela eyed Hawke for a moment before lifting an arm for Maria to tuck herself under. 

“Watch yourself, sweet thing,” Isabela murmured into her ear, “that one bites.”

“Nothing to watch,” Hawke murmured back, and pulled away. “Make sure she has water. She always forgets.”

“No, I don’t,” Merrill murmured, but Isabela smiled broadly. 

“Sure there isn’t,” she said, “we’ll see about that, Hawke. C’mon, kitten. Let’s get you home.”

Hawke smiled after them, shaking her head, and when she turned she found Fenris waiting, eyes fixed on her. 

The way he watched her sometimes…it had been wary at first, she was certain. Over the years, it had been replaced with mild exasperation, sometimes laughter, occasionally tentative affection. Now, there was something else in his eyes, some unnameable focus that set her heart to racing again the moment it’d finally calmed.

“Ready?” she asked Fenris. 

The moon loved the sight of him, she’d often thought. Its light was like silver-gilt on the planes of his face when he angled his head to the side and it tangled in the strands of his hair with the gentlest of brushstrokes. 

Who do I think I am, Varric? she wondered, looking toward the stairs home. Maybe I drank too much, after all. 

She knew better, of course, but it was a convenient enough excuse to seize upon.

“I am,” Fenris said, and together they started up the stairs home. 

Later, she wouldn’t remember much about the conversation that followed. He’d told her not to apologize to him—that much she held onto—but everything else was washed away by the way he’d reached out and taken her hand in his. His fingers were calloused and warm, bounded on every side by cool metal that occasionally snagged on her robes. While they finished climbing the steps to Hightown, Hawke wished fervently that she lived a little further away—somewhere outside of town, perhaps, so this walk could go on forever and she’d never have to let go. But of course the stairs home were as they’d always been, the walk as long or short as ever, and when they paused before her doorway they said goodbye in their usual manner. 

For the first time, as she pressed her cheek to his breastplate and wrapped her arms around him, Hawke wished that she could hear the thud of his heart through his armor. Was his racing as much as hers? Had the touch been a whim or did it mean something more? Her mind buzzed with it, hummed with the way he tentatively wrapped his arms around her in return, the whisper of his breath against the loose curls along the edge of her braid. This was—something new. She was almost certain of it. 

And yet, even then, the tiniest sliver of doubt held her from asking him what he wanted. It was not an unkind little voice. It was sympathetic—sorrowful, even, and its words were only logical. 

You’re not ready, it whispered when she would have held on to him more tightly. After a moment, it added: He’s not ready. 

So, flushed and weak-kneed, Hawke bade him goodnight as if nothing had changed at all. She was fortunate, she supposed, that she���d been keeping her feelings tucked neatly away this long. It had been necessary practice for this—whatever this was. 

When she climbed into her bed some time later, it felt almost unbearably cold, too large for her by far, and she huddled on the edge of the mattress trying to will herself to sleep. 

What would it feel like to—

No. He was her friend. It was enough; more than enough, after everything they’d seen.

But when he’d held her hand, he’d been gentle and firm. If he touched her somewhere else, what would it—

No. 

She had no idea what she was doing. She had very little experience with any of this, and having a crush on one’s friend was a different creature entirely than deciding to pursue these feelings. No. Until she could…figure this out, she’d leave it to Fenris. 

Hawke rolled over until her face was buried in the pillow. She groaned long and loud, and when she was finally done she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

[emptymilk-bottle]

oh anya we’re really in it now…

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[synthshenanigans]

an annoyed Heart sketch that i kept coloring too much & now i have this

[alt versions below as always v ]

[revelations-persona]

against all odds i finished my maya in time for the convention :D

didn't get to finish the gakuran that goes with jun but here he is too (pretend it's his summer uniform!!). and i also found a tatsuya cosplayer!!! he's @capygaaracos on ig ^^

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I always have ideas for multi-chapter fics but I know better than to start them anymore because I never seem to finish them. Oneshots are hard enough, apparently

[gay-edwardian]

[zuppizup]

how many wips you currently got?

😬

A lot…? Most of them are random notes in badly filed documents though.

I guess the ones I’ve been actively working on this month…

And They Were Zoom-mates… silly modern AU that got completely out of control. 225k series for some reason. One chapter left when my brain applies itself to editing.

Purgatory - early canon divergence. Back from mini-hiatus. Currently at chapter 39. Hoping to finish by chapter 50… bit I’m side eyeing that projection.

Tio-verse multi-chapter - unpublished WIP. Projecting ~10 chapters and approximately 50% complete.

Dark Alternative - Dark magic AU. Rayllum childhood friends to lovers. ~20+ chapters (projected, likely more) Currently 50k WIP doc

Out Of Time sequel - God… like… I wanna but I don’t. They were finally happy in that ‘verse. And yet… Six uber sad chapters. Currently 10k written. I can tell it wouldn’t take much to finish but the guilts get me.

Snake Boi Callum fic - failing to adhere to a 500 word limit to the prompts so ~4K at present. Aiming to publish for that event.

Bloodythirsty follow up - no idea why, but liked this AU and wanted more. Probably half done. Have in my head to post for Halloween. Maybe an M/E rated additional chapter because vampire are hot.

I have a lot of other half baked ideas (Finnegrin’s Wake from both Rayla and Callum’s POV, one-sided Sorayla fic, super random regency fic) that get picked up every now and then, but the ones above are the ones most likely to see competition/AO3 at all.

[qqueenofhades]

I don’t know if you’re really taking fandomy asks at the moment, but I’m just curious, what do you think Hob’s thoughts about/reaction to the moon landing would be? Like he’s seen a lot of incredible stuff over his life but like watching it happen, watching humans land on not quite another planet but like the MOON, even just for him discovering that it’s a big chunk of rock floating in the sky, that’s got to be so magical and especially given the fact that he’s a HUGE nerd

I mean, it makes ME cry every time I hear "one...small...step for man.... one giant leap... for mankind," and/or think about space in general, and I was born in the 20th century. For someone born in the FOURTEENTH century, yeah, uh, wow.

[undefeatablesin]

In other news, I finally acquired my Platinum trophy for LoP today and I feel deeply accomplished lmao ✨

[hoperaypegasus]

I just realized something about Nile’s eye makeup. 

His bey is obviously based on Horus, the Egyptian god. And everything about Nile, legit down to the fact he has the same name as the major river in Egypt, seems to be a reference to his heritage. However his makeup doesn’t really look like Horus’s symbol, the eye of Horus. It doesn’t look like the eye of Ra either in my opinion, it seems both stylized and different from both famous symbols. 

Instead, they are deliberately asymmetrical, as if they represent different things. These are supposed to show something. The kid version of me in my head who was obsessed with mythologies told me I was forgetting something that I definitely should know. So I dusted off my old books and did a bit of digging. And...

The deity Horus is a sky deity. And in early texts, his eyes were described as the sun and moon, before they were split up between Horus and Ra later on. More specifically, his right eye was the sun and his left was the moon.

The makeup under Nile’s right eye predominantly features a triangle, like a sun ray. And the makeup under his left features what looks to be a geometric crescent, like the moon.

...His makeup is a nod to the early translations of Horus’s eyes.

[thethirdromana]

Trektober day 18: Enterprise WIP

I don't have a completed story for the prompts today, but I do have a WIP on a theme by sex pollen. Here's the start.

“It’s a rare condition, unique to Denobulans as far as I’m aware,” Phlox said. “Not life-threatening, not dangerous. But it does mean that once it reaches the second stage, which will be in two or three days, I will need to isolate from the crew for… hmmm, let me see. At least two weeks. Could be more.”

Captain Archer gave a sympathetic smile. “It doesn’t sound like there’s much that can be done about it. We’ll just have to take care and try not to get any major injuries while you’re in quarantine.”

“Quite,” Phlox replied. He sighed. “If only we were a little nearer to Denobula… on my planet this condition is treated as a gift. Still, there are some sacrifices that must be made for the experience of serving on Enterprise.”

“Even if we could get to Denobula in time,” Archer said, “on our current mission I’m not sure Starfleet would approve a stay of two or more weeks. I’m sorry, Doctor.”

Phlox shook his head. “Not quite, Captain. It’s all academic given our distance from Denobula, of course. But if I could use the, ah, traditional Denobulan treatment approach, then I would expect to be back at work within, oh, 24 hours of the onset of the second stage, probably. But it would hardly be appropriate to use the Denobulan approach on a ship full of humans. Your culture is so different, so sensitive about these things.”

Archer, who had been about to get up, paused and sat back in his chair. “What exactly is this condition, and the treatment? It’s not something involving your menagerie, is it?”

Phlox laughed. “Not at all, Captain, not at all, unless you’re referring to our colleagues as a menagerie, which is a thought that I’ll admit sometimes crosses my mind. My condition is an apocrine disorder in which, for reasons that are not wholly understood, a vastly higher level of the Denobulan mating pheromone is secreted. The person with the condition becomes a kind of living aphrodisiac, leading to arousal and the loss of inhibitions in all who encounter them. On Denobula, when this occurs, it is cause for orgiastic celebrations. In my culture, you see, Captain, we rather enjoy that sort of thing.

“The process of mating encourages greater pheromone secretions, which appears to be a virtuous cycle for the condition to reach its end stages more rapidly. It is rather exhausting for the Denobulan affected by the condition, and in the days before widespread access to medical care, could prove fatal – which, I believe, is why the condition remains rare and has not been selected for in our evolutionary history. But it’s quite safe when recovery is properly monitored.”

Archer raised his eyebrows, suppressing a smile. “How do you know that the pheromone has any effect on humans? Have any humans ever been exposed?”

“They have,” Phlox said. “Only small numbers – I believe one freighter crew, and on another occasion, a diplomatic visitor to Denobula – but the effects were much the same as on Denobulans. Perhaps a little more marked. Humans do have rather more inhibitions to lose, don’t they?”

“Tell me a little more about this, Doctor,” Archer said. “Does it have an intoxicating effect? What’s the impact on consent?”

Phlox looked shocked. “Captain, I assure you – Denobulans consider consent to be of the highest importance! The pheromone causes a heightened state of arousal in those exposed to it. They may experience attraction to people they wouldn’t usually desire. But it isn’t intoxicating. One remains quite clear-headed. Or so I am told – I’ve never experienced it, myself.”

Archer pursed his lips. “So as I see it there are two options. One, you lock yourself away in quarantine for two weeks – two weeks or more, feeling miserable, and we just have to hope we don’t have any medical emergencies in that time. Or, we seal off part of the Enterprise – one deck, maybe – for a few hours, let everyone know that if they choose to go in there, then they’re going to feel horny, anyone who so chooses can enjoy themselves, and you’re back in Sickbay a day later. Seems like a straightforward decision to me.”

“Are you quite sure that humans would be comfortable with this, Captain?” Phlox asked. “I have always found your people friendly, but sexually repressed. I would have suggested something of this kind, but I never thought it would be acceptable to you.”

Archer nodded. “If we were having this conversation four years ago then it might be different. But we’ve all been through a lot together, and we need to be pragmatic. Better to have one night of unprofessional behaviour than two weeks or more of our doctor being out of action, especially all the way out here. Who’s heading up the social committee at the moment?”

“I believe that’s currently the duty of Ensign Sato and Crewman Fletcher,” Phlox said. 

“Excellent,” Archer said. “Please brief them on what’s required, and have them report back to me with their intended arrangements by 1100 hours tomorrow. Will that give them enough time to set up before you enter the second stage of this condition?”

“I believe so,” Phlox said. “Captain – I appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Archer said. “Now I just need to figure out how the hell I’m going to explain this to Starfleet Command…”

[pedrospatch]

do you take requests?

technically no. only because i am way too slow with my writing but believe me i would LOVE to take requests 🥺

maybe during the summer when i have no classes i’ll give requests a go!

[the-kipsabian]

aight im looking at my wip list rn (like actual work i have started so far)

[causticsunshine]

a year and a half of work gone

well i have officially lost all my art files edited and created since july of 2022 as well as all of my favorite brushes and tool settings i've since modified, including the only few lineart brushes i found that actually worked for me

some of my reference and insp photos were salvaged but most all of them are from 2022 and the very beginning of 2023

i've been going through my socials saving as many wip / unfinished previews and old pieces as i can and saving them but there were so many folders within my documents full of pieces i never shared or screencapped that are just. completely gone.

i got maybe 3.5 hours of sleep and have spent most of the morning sobbing because i've realized how much i've lost... it's like i burnt up multiple sketches and totally obliterated all my brushes and pens, cracked paint pans... like a year and a half of acquired tools and hard work is just gone

i guess if anything i can take the time now to redownload and modify as much as i can and remember to and create a double back up system for everything, then make a list of the pieces i don't even have wip screenshots of and decide what's meant to stay lost and what i'll try to recreate?

at least i have some the recent screengrabs of stuff i was working on literally yesterday so i don't have to start completely fresh on them

but yeah otherwise. i have to try and pick up the pieces and start almost completely fresh all over again, only this time not because i wanted to

[the-scottish-costume-guy]

So what exactly is your PhD and why were you writing about Rocky Horror? Do you think it ISNT problematic?

My thesis is on how costume contributes to (and can challenge) queer coding (and just portraying queer characters in general). Problematic is a word thats meaningless to me. Rocky Horror has its strengths and weaknesses. I was writing about it because I was writing about how costume portrays gender performativity - and Rocky Horror is a great example of playing with gender through costume. Honestly this is a loaded question - and Tumblr is not the place I'm going to be publishing my thesis. I need you to understand that the article on Rocky Horror (which isn't even finished yet) is currently 15 pages. Explaining all of its contents in one ask response is going to strip it of all nuance. I'm trying to be careful not to read a tone in your ask you didnt intend but it did come off a bit aggressive or accusatory. If I do get the article to a publication standard I'll gladly link anyone who wants it. That said this was a warm up piece of writing to get me in the mindset for writing my thesis and as such might never be finished completely since it wasn't written for its own sake.