Gloaminghagette @gloaminghagette - Tumblr Blog

when shirley jackson said, “the very nicest thing about being a writer is that you can afford to indulge yourself endlessly with oddness, and nobody can do anything about it, so long as you keep writing. all you have to do — and watch this carefully, please — is keep writing.”

lowercass

Thimble, Thimble!!! My darling girl!!!

#the padawan braid #oh i love her #thimble critical role #cr4

blackshvck

Chappell Roan was right. it is like a hundred ninety nine degrees

dungeons-and-drawing

My love of the tragic paladin trope grows. Eursulon, Kaladin, Absolute Wonder Woman, and now Azune ❤️

#sick sick sick #azune nayar #cr4 #critical role

without-ado

Strawberry Full Moon over Ely Cathedral l VeronicaJoPo

cats-n-batss

Ser Duncan the Tall

Decided to take a break from writing to draw for once

#i suck at drawing hair so don't look at it for too long

#I am obsessed with him #ser duncan the tall #akotsk

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for tagging me in @epiphany-jones, @frotees-corner, @blightwashed and @sorrygoldfish!

Alright, so remember back a million years - or roughly eight months - ago when I started writing a silly little Christmas fic that I was definitely going to finish while it was still winter? Well ... I didn't. I got stuck somewhere in the final chapter and just didn't. But it has been bugging me having that fic incomplete when literally all I have to do is finish one chapter, so I have started work on Muddle Through Somehow once again. Hoping to finish it sometime this month as a sort of Christmas in July celebration. (I think I stole that idea from blightwashed? I'm pretty sure.)

Anyway, here's a ridiculously out-of-season snippet. Feel free to laugh at/with me:

One more insistent chime, and she flings the door open. “I swear to — Harding?” It’s definitely Harding standing in the hallway, clutching a giant foil-covered casserole pan to her chest, eyebrows furrowed together in frustration. But she is not alone. There’s a crowd stuffed in behind her and trickling down the hall. Taash and Neve and Bellara and Davrin and what the fuck is happening? “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Harding asks. “I’ve been calling you for hours.” “It’s Christmas morning,” Rook replies, feeling slow and uncommonly stupid. “What are you doing here on Christmas morning? How are you all —”

The casserole pan is shoved unceremoniously into her hands as Harding bullies her way through the front door. A wave of Rook’s friends and colleagues follows behind her. Assan trots in behind Davrin, nosing curiously at the underside of casserole dish, followed closely by little Mila and her dad. Rook catches Davrin’s eye even as Emmrich and Strife — Manfred wrangled on his hip — walk in behind them. What the fuck? she mouths at him, soundless and so, so confused. He scratches at the back of his neck, shrugs. “Um,” Rook says spinning to see Harding in the middle of her kitchen, laying out tupperware and foil-covered dishes that have been slowly funneled in by the rest of Rook’s unexpected guests. “Should you not be doing the big Harding family Christmas morning ritual right now?” “Rook,” Harding says, hands going to her hips. “It’s one o’clock. The Harding family Christmas has been over for hours. We started at seven.” “On purpose?” “So I was helping ma put all the leftovers away, and I started thinking about you spending Christmas in your sad apartment —” “It’s not sad,” Rook bristles. Harding talks over her, ignoring the protest. “All on your own and I just couldn’t —” “Rook what’s taking so … long?” Lucanis pads in from the bedroom wearing only his jeans. Because Rook is currently wearing his sweater. He stops stock still, hand raised to scratch at the carpet of chest hair now on full display to all of their friends, and also a few people they only know in passing. “Yes,” Neve chimes in. “She was so sad at you being all alone on Christmas that she blew up all of our phones until we agreed to help her stage second Christmas at your apartment.” “You know,” Rook says, doing her damndest to keep her tone measured. “You are being awfully smug for a grown woman with a hickey on her neck.” Neve gasps and slaps a hand to the left side of her neck. “Bel!” “I swear it’s barely noticeable!” Bellara says, rushing over to help Neve fuss with the collar of her shirt. “I’ll just get dressed then,” Lucanis says, backing slowly into the bedroom. Rook hears a muffled Mierda before the door slams shut.

#gh writes #fic: muddle through somehow #wip wednesday

Just wanted to drop by and say I love Breath As Hard As Kerosene. There are so many very good things about it (the characterizations! the eroticism of knighthood/knight and lord! the very funny bits interspersed with the drama! the jealousy!) and I know I am in for a great time when a new chapter comes out. So thanks!

THANK YOU! I'm always so happy to hear that people are having a good time with Breathe As Hard As Kerosene. Adding in fun comedy beats amidst the drama and action is something I'm especially loving with this story. I'm always up for a shenanigan. And so, it seems, are Dunk and Lyonel.

Also, apologies for waiting to reply to this note for a few days. I was using it sitting in my inbox as a bit of motivation to push me through writing chapter nine, and it was very effective! So thank you for that, too. All the writing for the next chapter is done, and now I just have to edit. Hopefully I'll have it posted in the next day or so.

#asks #gh writes #fic: breath as hard as kerosene