Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
Am i the only one that titles nothing in my wips? and if it has a title it’s an acronym? (thanks for the tag @ashintheairlikesnow! you are so orderly!)
untitled document
untitled document
untitled document
Jamison drabble unfinished
THWTLK brainstorm
unfinished vys drabble (yes thats the title, bc its unfinished)
untitled document
dray commission ref sheet
etc etc etc. I don’t title anything, maybe that’s why i can’t ever find the right doc lol
THE RULES: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Anyone can send me an ask afterwards (or a comment in this post) with a title that most intrigues/interests you, and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it if it’s an art piece!
I was tagged in the WIP thing by @sotc thank you sm!! ♥
oof I always have like a million sketches and unfinished illustrations in my drafts and most of them never see the light of day because I just. never pick them up again lmao but these few I haven’t yet lost interest in and they have a good chance of actually getting finished at some point, so … I guess they count as being a WIP
I juuuust got home from over a week of travel for two weddings and I only managed about 3ish-k of writing in that whole time eeeeep! But I did finish off another chapter of my witch + accidentally summoned demons story, More Than Bargained, so here you go:
“I’m going to magic the shit out of this problem,” Talia declares, propping her hands on her hips.
The curl at the corner of Jasper’s mouth stretches into a full-blown grin. Miles puffs out a breathy laugh while Vero covers his lips with his hand to hide his amused delight.
“We have every faith in a fearless leader with such fire in her veins,” Jasper murmurs.
“Can demons have faith? Isn’t that, like, exclusive to the angels?” Talia’s questions spur more questions.
Deep laughter fills the room, reaching the empty corners where the thick cobwebs are the most stubborn and Talia finds herself smiling.
I want to start a fun game for writers (and artists? I think it would work for artists too) where people reveal what they’re researching in the name of fic/art because, let’s be real, the stuff we research is sometimes hilarious.
The rule: tag 3 writer/artist friends who you know are currently working on a piece of writing/art and they need to write which websites they currently have open in the name of fic/art research. OF is included!
My tabs: Take a Closer Look: America Goes to War, A Historical Dictionary of American Slang (super helpful! find it here), The BEGINNERS Guide to Boxing, and CAN I PUNCH THE HEAVY BAG WITHOUT GLOVES ON?
PS: ‘twas not me who put the Caps Lock there PPS: ohhh yeah, I’m writing that boxing gym fic bby!!!
For Telltale Ghosts 2 I don’t actually have any research open at the moment because I’m in go-go-go mode and am going off the research I did for book 1 to expand on the magic haha! But for this other project I’m working on I’ve got:
- Google map of Long Island, NY - Google search “richest towns in long island ny” - Gold Coast Neighborhoods (luxhomeslongisland.com)
@treagus sent me a set of through a DM but Tumblr did…well, what it usually does, so I’m forced to respond to her this way. Stay awesome, Tumblr.
So here, have some WIP Scamander/Goldstein Christmas-time fluff. Yes, I know Tina is Jewish but I just had to do something with this idea in the aftermath of CoG, so…
—–
The electric fairy lights paint the dingy walls in watercolor shadows when Newt steps through the basement door, brightening his tiny flat. He smiles to himself and toes off his battered work boots, only to come up short when Tina turns from her place on the couch to acknowledge him, a blue light reflecting off the darkest part of her eyes, making them flash.
“Hi,” she greets him quietly, lifting her coffee mug before blushing down at her lap.
“Hello,” Newt manages without stammering, drinking in his fill of the delicate curve of her cheek, the graceful line of her neck before snapping himself out of it and shuffling across the room to the tree.
Newt tries very hard not to dwell on the fact that she’s wearing his pajamas, the ones he had loaned her nearly three months ago, in the immediate aftermath of Paris and the heartbreak it had wrought. The light mustard-colored silk looks better on her than they ever did on him, and he places his gifts beneath the tree — heartened to find a goodish pile already there, in a variety of colorful papers — before reverently touching one of the strands of popcorn and berries they had strung together the previous evening, enhanced by her shy smile as they lingered over tea and delicate little sandwiches.
“Hey, Newt,” Jacob calls from the kitchen in a knowing tone, snapping Newt from his reverie. He looks up quickly, flushing with presumed guilt, only to meet Jacob’s twinkling eyes. “You wanna help me with these eggs? I think your brother’s a bit lost, here.”
“I’m not lost,” Theseus grumbles, peering with obvious confusion at a bent fork. “I’m only just…aren’t these for eating?”
Newt snorts despite himself before standing. He dips his head to find Tina watching him with a tiny, secretive smile, and it lifts him enough that he can’t be entirely sure his feet touch the floor the three steps it takes him to pluck the fork from Theseus’ fingers. “They’re also good for beating eggs,” he tells him wryly, holding out a hand for the extravagantly rose-spangled apron that had been a Christmas gift from their mother before donning it.
“Suit yourself,” Theseus rumbles, chucking Newt on the shoulder before brushing past him to pour a cup of tea. “I never was any bloody good in the kitchen. In fact, Leta…” he trails off, a familiar sadness darkening his eyes before he shrugs it off with visible effort, rallying a lukewarm smile. “Leta, she used to say it was a minor miracle I could manage toast without burning the flat down.”
“Looks like Newt here got all the kitchen skills, then,” Jacob says with an understanding smile for Theseus before winking broadly. “Guess your talents lie elsewhere, eh, Theseus?”
Newt looks up from where he’s cracking eggs into a bowl. “That’s not quite fair,” he interjects quietly, heartened when Jacob and Theseus turn to listen to him. “I’d argue we both received those other ‘talents’.”
Jacob brays laughter at that, shoulders shaking as he portions off the spicy-smelling dough and covers the baking pan with a tea towel. Theseus even cracks a true smile, shrugging self-deprecatingly before nabbing a slice of toast from the awaiting pile. “I think that’s more about my little brother than I’d really like to know,” he says with a chuckle, “but I’m sure there’s a woman out there who could appreciate his…talents.”
Newt’s eyes go like a magnet to Tina, who is fingering the afghan covering her lap and watching them all with a species of simple joy he hasn’t seen on her in…Merlin, months. Her eyes meet his, prompting a familiar and pleasant tingle to surge from the crown of his head to the tip of his toes. He manages a weak, “Yes, perhaps,” and maintains poignant eye contact until Theseus snaps his fingers beneath his nose, breaking the temporary spell.
“Oi, Newt, get your mind back to London now, or do you actually prefer your eggs crunchy?”
“Bugger off, Theseus,” Newt sighs. He digs his elbow none-too-gently into his older brothers ribs, earning a laugh, and sets about digging out the shards of shells as Jacob and Theseus flow around him, forcing himself to ignore the tidal pull of Tina’s regards as he focuses on helping to get the morning started off on the right foot.
