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Give yourselves a boost! Show three edits you wished had gotten more notes then tag five other creators to do the same! Show more people what you have made and are proud of! 🎨

what an interesting ask, thank you! let’s see...

this nikita aesthetic set

this profiler character aesthetic

this alias edit

okay, and I’m going to tag: @la-ermitana, @taraknowless, @skiesfallithurts, @e-ripley, and @x-voyevoda!

#la-ermitana #taraknowless #skiesfallithurts #e-ripley #x-voyevoda

x-voyevoda replied to your photo “Any random characters anybody wants to see doodled? I got one request...”

Jiya a la Timeless? :D (Or I'd even settle for a Lucy or Flynn, heehee)

I actually finished out the little chart from last night, but it has been too long since I’ve drawn Jiya and I love her so much! <3

So here’s a quick one because she’s lovely and deserves it!

#x-voyevoda #conversations #jiya marri #stills art #thank you for the prompt! :D

Fanfic question meme

I was tagged by @x-voyevoda, thank you so much!

Author Name:

heytheredeann on Tumblr, Elisexyz on Ao3.

Fandoms You Write For:

I am currently knees deep in the Black Sails fandom, I’ve been writing fix-its for Once Upon A Time for about a year now, and I write a lot of Timeless too. There’s the occasional Agents of SHIELD fic, and... that’s about it? I’ve written for other fandoms, but not too recently.

Where You Post:

I post everything on Ao3, then post a link to it on Tumblr (or crosspost if it’s a very short story).

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story:

Going once again by kudos, though I haven’t really written many multi-chapter stories, it’s my Timeless movie fix-it. Which funnily enough was supposed to be a one-shot, just some Garcy-leaning stuff, but then I was like “.....there is.....too much crap......in this movie......” and it got five chapters LOL.

Favorite Story You Wrote:

Always The Worst Question. Okay. I am going to take the pressure off myself and do a top three that isn’t like---my Absolute Favourites. Just some fics that I am particularly proud of, I guess. There’s Echoes of yesterday, which is post-canon Flinthamilton, and it’s soft and I like how the dialougues came out. There’s Should’ve, which is a fix-it about Hookfire, my precious precious brotp, I guess I am very attached to it because no one writes for these two LOL. Last but not least, there’s Cracks, my Wyjess fic about the night when Jessica didn’t die in the altered timeline. I just really like how that one came out.

Story You Were Nervous to Post:

All of them. I get particularly nervous about posting multichapters, but I remember hesitating a lot before posting I know you love me from the other side, my Neal Cassidy Lives Fix-It number a million and one, maybe because it’s particularly self-indulgent.

How Do You Pick Your Titles:

I cry a lot until some god above takes pity on me. There’s the ‘picking song lyrics’ method, though I am trying to use that less, now I generally re-read the fic, start thinking about the overall theme and what exactly it is that I feel like is The Point/I’m trying to say, and try to condensate it in a few words or something? Songs are a good inspiration too, even when I don’t use lyrics.

Do You Outline:

Definitely for multichapters, it helps me a lot to know where I am going, though I am anything but strict with my outline, I make changes along the way 99% of the time. Even with one-shots, I generally prefer to have the idea written down at some point. Sometimes I just have the starting point for the fic, I start writing, and while I’m going it will occour to me where it all is going, so I will write a note at the end of the document. I have a hard time just writing aimlessly, without even a vague notion of where I want it to end, it makes me feel like I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m just stretching it out at random XD So generally I have at least a bunch of messy notes about stuff that I want to put in the fic, yeah.

How Many of Your Stories are complete:

All my one-shots, Between (the Timeless movie fix-it) and Porcelain (my Swanfire Beauty And The Beast AU).

In-Progress:

I don’t have longfics that are in progress, but I have collections (Calls me home, a collection of Swanfire ILYs, and To build a home, a collection of mini-stories about a Hookedqueen fuck-buddies to co-parents to lovers AU) and Closer at heart, a series exploring a canon divergence in which Neal was saved by TLK in Quiet Minds. There are other series that are ‘in progress’ in the sense that I can always add one-shots, but they don’t give me a sense of ‘this needs to be finished sooner rather than later’.

Coming Soon:

Hell if I know LOL. I am currently writing for whumptober, though I have totally messed up the schedule by now, so some of those prompts are in the works... Then I have a million WIPs that are in need of attention, among them the instalment to close the Defeating Zelena storyarc in Closer at heart, which---I deeply, deeply loathe. That damn one-shot is killing me, I’m stuck. Ugh. Probably a new I Love You ficlet for Swanfire will be out sooner rather than later. probably.

Do You Accept Prompts:

Yup! I have prompt lists that you can always choose from, though I accept scenario prompts too! I am not always very fast at filling them, but I do my best XD (obviously, if a prompt is vague it’s easier for me XD)

Upcoming Story You’re the Most Excited For:

Uuuuuhm....... I don’t know? There’s a Neal Resurrection Fic that I’m working on *insert collective gasp of surprise here* that I am pretty excited about, though even just the outline is a complete mess, I don’t know if/when I’m ever gonna finish that one XD Also, there’s a Silverflinthamilton amnesia fic that I have been working on, though, again, it’s far from finished XD

Tag Five Fanfic Authors to Answer These Questions

@ilosttrackofthings @writtenwolves @frivoloussuits @paradigmparadoxical @statusquoergo (If you don’t feel like it or you’ve already been tagged and I missed it, feel free to ignore it!)

#ely has shit to say #tag game #x-voyevoda #not spn #writing is hard

For the drabble meme: Garcy and #20. :D

Okay the sad painful one okay okay 20. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” Contrary to popular belief, Flynn isn’t necessarily prone to useless acts of violence, but right now he’s wondering how much longer he can go without setting something on fire.Because on top of the already unideal fact that they’re stuck for the time being in 1918, Lucy had to go and get the goddamned Spanish flu.

Maybe, he muses, maybe he can find a nice abandoned house to burn down. A Rittenhouse agent to strangle. Hell, maybe there’s a fascist around here somewhere who could use a good kicking. They’re holed up in the cramped servants’ quarters of a prominent family, hired as temporary help for an upcoming dinner Lucy has been certain Rittenhouse is planning to sabotage. Some sort of long-game approach to changing the dynamics of the upcoming second world war. They had been dropped a few days early in order to integrate themselves into the residence in question, and Rufus had jumped back to the present spend time with Jiya and Connor modifying the Lifeboat, which sorely needed it and would not benefit from sitting around in post-Edwardian London, unused, for several days. Wyatt was back home, off on a different assignment, and Flynn and Lucy had been confident they could handle this themselves. But then Lucy had interacted with a returned lieutenant colonel upstairs, talking him to several hours in order to get some information, and apparently the son of a bitch had been sick with what half of these men were sick with in 1918 because she’d shortly grown flush and feverish. This strand of influenza, she’d informed him the day before, had killed nearly 100 million people after World War I.Flynn would give his right arm for some fucking penicillin.The other servants had been apologetic; they had sent for a doctor but it was no telling how long it would take. Unspoken: a foreign temporary chauffeur and scullery maid (Lucy had loved that) weren’t a high priority in this contemptibly rigid class system. The fever has lasted for two days so far. Flynn hasn’t left her side (for convenience, they had posed as a married couple, so thankfully he isn’t going to be kicked out for the sake of propriety), and it only seems to be getting worse. He knows he shouldn’t risk contamination but every time he considers leaving the room, he is struck with a sense of darkening panic, a thin, cruel memory of gunshots in the middle of the night, of his wife and daughter slipping away before he could save them or even tell them how much he… Anyhow. Flynn tries to still the pounding in his chest, takes a deep breath through gritted teeth. It is sometime in the early morning, not that they have a window in this dim and dusty area of the servants’ garrett, and Lucy is still sleeping. She needs the rest. He imagines he must look like hell sitting there, slumped like some sort of grim specter, his hands clenched together to keep them from inappropriately clutching hers. Remembering how his glower had already scared off the house parlor maid, who had come by with tea, he tries to calm himself by listening to the soft rhythm of Lucy’s breath.So. He’s grown used to her. Her presence in the diary and, recently, (undeniably, frustratingly) the real thing. Her quick mind and soft heart and surprising resilience. The way she’d broken down in his arms in Chinatown, the way she sometimes sleeps in his room after their long talks, the soft sharpness in her face, her arms wrapped around herself in sleep, her breathing…Which, now, is low. Too low. As much as he doesn’t want to wake her up, Flynn finds himself gripping one shoulder and giving her a firm shake. He doesn’t excel at gentleness. “Lucy?” he says, voice hoarse from lack of use. She doesn’t respond or even stir. There is a thin sheen over her skin, the pale flush of ongoing fever, and her breathing is all too shallow for his liking and he feels like there’s a vulture picking at his chest, destroying him slowly. “Lucy,” he says again, and it’s a reprimand this time because how could she possibly be so foolish as to fall ill at a time like this? Why hadn’t she been more careful?“Dammit Lucy, wake up,” he says, shaking her again. Funny, he dimly notes, how fragile the body is, how small the bones, like a bird. The thought makes him irrationally and intensely angry. “Wake up,” he repeats again, a useless mantra, and he is suddenly gripping the cup and saucer on her bedside table and before he registers his own actions, hurling them at the wall, one after the other. A soft shatter followed by a louder shatter. The faint laughter of fine glass breaking. Hell. He needs to wring someone’s neck, blame someone for this and give them their due. “I thought you understood that we need you,” he grits out, standing, pacing. “That I– you’re a damned historian! You know the risks of interacting with soldiers in this time period! Were you thinking at all?“You don’t get to leave yet,” he continues sharply, aware of what the anger is masking, the flood of panic threatening to drown him. Before her, his mission had been dark, single-minded. Almost inhuman. But she had breathed life back into it, painted it with joy, with compassion. He hadn’t felt those things with any degree of intensity since his family was ripped from him. “Not you,” he adds. “Haven’t I lost enough?” The words are almost lost in his throat, an angry, bitter sob. There’s one more cup on the table and its shatter against the same wall (the servants might fit them with a bill if they aren’t too scared of him by now) is hollow, unsatisfying. He sits again. “Please,” he says dully, the rage wrung out. He is as dry as a piece of cloth. “You need to wake up, because… because I can’t do this without you. I lo–” He swallows, runs his tongue over his lips, stops himself just in time because saying it will make it real, make him as fragile as a pile of bird bones and he can’t afford that. He can’t afford to lose another chunk of his soul. There would be nothing left. Lucy continues to breathe shakily, but does not wake up. —She’s still holding on the next day, but it is by a thread. Flynn knows there’s a mission to be completed but his mind is in tatters. Stopping by the kitchen, he hears the butler and the cook whisper in low tones about the woman who had stopped by who wasn’t from these parts, that’s for certain, Mr. Williams, and rushes out the servants’ door to see Jiya crossing her arms and glaring at the house. “Sorry, they wouldn’t let me i– what’s wrong?” she asked at the look on his face. It takes all of his self-control to not fly into a rage, to demand why she had taken so long to return. She had no way of knowing, he reminds himself, and they’d all agreed on the details of this assignment. “It’s Lucy,” he says shortly, unable to resist a glower. “We have to go.” “What’s wrong? Was it Emma?” “No.” He swallows. “This– this mission will have to go unfinished.” Several emotions flash through Jiya’s face, confusion and concern and something frustratingly close to pity, and she nods. “Yeah. You’re explaining it to Agent Christopher, though.” “Gladly.” He steps inside to get Lucy, and hopes on hope that they’re not too late. —After two days of zanamivir (turns out influenza isn’t typically treated with antibiotics), Lucy is awake and functioning again. Flynn finds himself avoiding her; the prospect of talking to her touching her, god, feeling her heartbeat… it’s overwhelming. He has let her twine too close to him. If he’d lost her… She finally corners him in the kitchen one afternoon. Jiya, Rufus and Wyatt are off on a mission. Lucy is grounded while she recovers and he (he grimly recalls) has been told by Agent Christopher that he needs to “calm the hell down” before he’s sent on another trip. Which is just absurd, and he’d told her so to no avail. “What’s your problem?” Lucy says sharply, catching him as he digs through the fridge for beer. “There’s no problem,” he says tersely, closing it, empty-handed, and makes to step around her. She moves in front of him again and there’s something endearing about that fact that she thinks she’s a barrier. All five foot five of her. He bites back a smile and looks at her, trying to shake the feeling that grips his chest when their eyes meet. Like a desperate drink of water, like she is relief embodied in human form. She’s still pale, not all there yet, but her eyes are warm and alive. And angry. Angry, too. “What is it, Flynn?” she says, and he notes a catch in her voice. “I thought I heard… well, what, are you mad that I ruined the mission?”Speaking of the absurd. He barks out a laugh and finally dodges her, walking to his room. She follows insistently as he tries not to, what? Yell? Cry? “This is the last time I’m asking,” she’s saying, walking quickly to keep up with him. “Frankly, Flynn, I don’t have the energy for whatever this is–” “I almost lost you!” he snaps, spinning to glare down at her. She blinks once, startled. With a huff, he enters his room and she follows. She sits on his bed and he sits on his chair. Somehow, these have become their spots, no matter the setting. After a moment she speaks, and her voice is soft. “I thought… I thought I dreamed those things you said. Back in 1918.”He processes this, trying to sort the feelings tornadoing through him. “You… heard?” “Yeah,” she says. It’s almost a whisper. She looks at him and before he can even stop himself, he has crossed the room and is kneeling in front of her, his hands on her knees. He is such a goddamned fool, doesn’t know how to be what Lucy deserves. He doesn’t deserve to be in her atmosphere but he’s never been good at staying away from her, has he? “Lucy,” he says, and he’s also never been good at apologizing. She’s there, and her skin is warm beneath the fabric of her clothes. He takes her hand, the fragile bones of it, and presses a kiss to her palm. “It’s okay,” she says, voice soothing as he rests his head in her lap, as she runs her fingers through his hair over and over again. He is shaking under the assault of her gentleness. “It’s okay.”

#thanks for the prompt! :)#garcy #garcia flynn #lucy preston #timeless #x-voyevoda #there is some Language in this #my fic

Ahhhhh! Fellow Garcy lover and provider of angst and emotional fic!!!

Not to mention, brilliant all-around brainstormer, enabler of plot bunnies, and supporter of headcanons.

I always love reading your fics, even when they make me want to cry, (especially then!) and your characterization is always on point, in the most angsty ways possible.

Whenever I see one of your questions floating around, I get so excited, and instantly stop everything to think about it.

I don't know a TON about you personally, outside of fandom stuff, but you seem really nice, and I'm glad we ran into each other on this site. We seriously need to bounce ideas off each other some time; I think we'd have fun torturing Flynn coming up with ideas.

#x-voyevoda #mutuals ask #mutuals send me a number and i'll make a post about you

Happy Birthday!

to @x-voyevoda! I hope you enjoy this little fluffy Garcy fic, and I apologize for its delay. Happy 30th!

FF.net link

Ao3 link

#x-voyevoda #christine writes #garcy fic #garcy

x-voyevoda replied to your post: The Magicians writers literally permanently killed...

I’m getting some real Timeless Finale Rage feels from this post and taking it as a sign I shouldn’t watch The Magicians…

@x-voyevoda oh my darling, spare yourself. This was a great show, a wonderful show that did a lot of things right, and then, in the last two episodes, managed to upset and baffle its audience by going against all that the showrunners had previously established as valuable to them and to their characters--and then dropped the final nuclear bomb in this season four finale.

Personally, I think Timeless was still worse in the sense that it destroyed literally every aspect of the show, and The Magicians on the other hand didn’t manage to absolutely ruin every aspect. But yeah. This finale was awful and the response of the showrunners was beyond tone deaf.

#x-voyevoda #I could go into more detail if you want #but that's the gist of it

x-voyevoda replied to your post: What was your old career ?

Wait wait wait, when did you do Hungary teaching then? Was it that early on in your twenties?? My memory is so shot I can’t keep my Anna life timeline straight.

Yeah! 22-23 I was living in Hungary. Straight out of university :)

#x-voyevoda