Game of Thrones Daily
Origami Around
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Acquired Stardust
trying on a metaphor
Today's Document
hello vonnie
Product Placement
Kiana Khansmith
art blog(derogatory)
Discoholic 🪩
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Andulka
Janaina Medeiros
cherry valley forever
Three Goblin Art
taylor price
Peter Solarz
Cosimo Galluzzi
roma★
seen from Vietnam
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seen from South Korea
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@themagicianshea
Opening Commissions
So I got scammed and my bank cannot guarantee I’ll get my money back, I am currently unemployed but hoping that changes soon. I don’t like asking for help but it’s currently my only option. I need to open commissions to pay for some debts coming up.
I have paypal and Ko-fi. I understand that things are tight for many people so if you can’t donate please share this post.
You can dm me for any questions!
Reblogs, Retweets and Shares always help.
Thank you!
Philantrophy Bitches Podfic Auction!
On behalf of the Philantrophy Bitches team I’m proud to announce our podfic offerings are now live!
Reminder that we are still accepting podficcers… Come join us as we raise money for Jason Ralph’s Covenant House Fundraiser!
How this is going to work:
Check our offerings here: https://philantrophybtches.dreamwidth.org
All you have to do is donate here: https://sleepout.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=main.404&target=%2Fparticipant%2Fjason%2Dralph
Write Philanthropy Bitches Auction in the comment & then DM us (over on twitter at @PhilanthroBees or here on tumblr @ofthedirewolves ) the receipt and we’ll put you in contact with the podficcer.
Offering #1 @roseszain
They are offering 2 slots and multiple fandoms from which to choose from! Among them: Stranger Things, Teen Wolf, OFMD, Marvel, Good Omens, The Witcher, SPN and more!
Check out their full listing at: https://philantrophybtches.dreamwidth.org/617.html
Offering #2: @cpmhew
They are offering 2 slots
Fandoms: Mostly Magicians (book & show) but they’re open to original works and other fandoms
Check out their full offering here:
https://philantrophybtches.dreamwidth.org/963.html
Help us raise money for a wonderful cause! And come join us if you want to we’re always looking for more!
Welcome to the MHEA 2022 Masterpost!
Hello I’m sure you all thought I had forgotten but the truth is that life very much got in the way, weddings, work, anxiety and my sister had a baby!
I would like to thank everyone who participated in this event. I know it didn’t flow as smoothly as in the past but sadly I didn’t account for how work would get in the way. I am still very proud of everyone you all did masterful work.
From the bottom of my heart I thank you all.
Please remember to review and reblog every art and fic in this list because they all deserve all the love.
Without further ado, the 2022 MHEA Masterpost:
Hope you’re all enjoying our fics and art! All of our writers and artists worked so hard so please do them the curtesy of reviewing their fics and art + reblogging on tumblr!
<Sorry for the lateness in the masterpost (Mod was at a wedding). But it should be up on Monday!!>
Thank you for everything!
I recently had the pleasure of participating in MHEA @themagicianshea with @ofthedirewolves. I had a lot of fun making this art!! Maii was so so so great to work with, the best really. And their fic is absolutely a masterpiece. The movie of choice was “Love and Monsters.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
some more mhea 2022 scenes with no context <3 (2/2)
today’s my mhea 2022 posting day! sadly my writer dropped but please take these scenes with absolutely no context <3 (½)
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
“I’m not your mother, Eliot. And you’re not gonna make me into some fucking nag who told you what to do. Just because I kicked your ass into gear like a fucking boss doesn’t mean I have to be responsible for validating your martyr complex.”
“That,” Eliot spits stonily, “is not what this is.”
“Oh, yeah?” She bites off whatever the next words are going to be, then pauses. “We’re doing something here. Things are good, right? Pretending you don’t want things for you isn’t a good look, baby, and you know it.”
“We get the happiness we fuckin’ take, Eliot,” Margo says, her jaw tight, and there is something behind it Eliot can’t quite summon the will to interrogate. “And I’m tired of you deciding you don’t deserve it.” He remembers her standing in his dorm room when he woke up (such as he was ever awake, back then), telling him they were blowing this shitty excuse for a popsicle stand.
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
“I just think, if you have feelings for someone, you should go for it,” he says, looking directly at Eliot’s mouth.
“I guess that was the whole point of the exercise,” Eliot says, his lips moving slowly. Quentin isn’t drunk, not really, but he likes leaning into the freedom of being released from the constraints of sobriety upon occasion.
“No, but like – you know, if there’s something there, it seems stupid to just let it pass by without saying something. It could be great, right? That’s scientific. You have to experiment. Find proof.”
Eliot laughs, a low, kind-of-sexy thing. And Quentin thinks, for a moment, that Eliot is taking the hint, leaning into him, but then there’s a gentle hand on his arm and he opens his eyes – apparently he’d closed them?
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
“You can say the word depressed, Jules, I won’t turn into a pumpkin.”
“Pumpkin isn’t exactly what I was worried about, Q.”
He hears the quiet snick of her lighter and can almost picture her, reading in light too dim with her tea rapidly getting cold on the counter. “I thought you quit.”
“I unquit. Sue me.”
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
“I think this is yours,” he says, unnecessarily. “It doesn’t really go with any of my clothes.” Eliot reaches out for it, but Quentin pulls his arm back, just a little. “Do you often plant things in the luggage of people you’ve just met?”
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
His dad wanted him to be happy.
And here he is, sitting in silence with Alice and no idea what that means.
Alice is looking at him, as much at a loss for their next move as he is, and it feels very much like they’re on uncharted ground.
It’s new and a little painful, but a lot of painful things, Quentin thinks, turn out to be worth the effort.
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
They’re in some sort of weird armlock now, Eliot trying to stop him from leaving while Quentin presses towards the nearest exit. He manages to dart to a side entrance, passing by the edge of one set of large tables with excellent views.
Which is, of course, where Alice is sitting.
“Quentin?” Alice sounds baffled, which is fair. She looks him over, like he might be a particularly good costume worn by someone she expects to be here. “Quentin, you’re in France?”
“Yes?”
“And you brought – a friend.”
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
“This is a no-smoking car”, Quentin says, before he can stop himself, and Eliot stops where he’s tapping a cigarette on the metal of the case (who actually does that?).
“Oh no,” says Eliot, with a truly breathtaking level of boredom. He slips the cigarette into his mouth. “What shall I do.”
Quentin is torn between trying to beg a cigarette – he never really smokes, not really, but he’s spent enough time around them, thanks to Julia, that it occurs to him it might calm the nerves zinging under his skin – and pressing the issue. Eliot casts something – maybe it’s something blended with his telekinesis? Quentin doesn’t recognize the movement, which is typically filled with Eliot flourish. When Eliot exhales smoke a few moments later, it comes up to a barrier about six inches from Eliot face and hovers there, contained.
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
It’s a very narrow townhouse, one in a long string of attached homes with worn trim and a distinctly outdated feel. Quentin can feel the magic here, steeped into the wood and the stone, and he can tell that it has long been steeped into the very ground the house was built on.
The aesthetic, from what Quentin can see, appears to be mismatched antique store meets college chic.
Eliot shouts a still baffling “Bambi?” from the hallway, closing the door behind Quentin and hanging his jacket on a coat stand shaped like a – well, Quentin isn’t entirely sure what it is supposed to be, but it is extremely phallic.
“In here!” a bright voice yells from somewhere further back, and Quentin toes off his sneakers, because he was raised to have manners. Did someone name their child Bambi? Is that, like, a thing?
Eliot disappears down a relatively plain hallway and through a doorway, which Quentin discovers leads to a crowded, but homey, sitting room. Living room? Lounge?
“Bambi, this is Quentin,” Eliot says to the petite woman lounging on what Quentin believes was once a chaise. It is hard to tell, what with it being entirely covered in pillows. “I met him on the plane, and no, you can’t keep him. Quentin, this is Margo, and yes, that Margo.”
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
“So, who or what is worth…this?” Eliot asks, gesturing towards Quentin’s apparent queasiness and leaning somehow into Quentin’s space without actually moving.
He’s emotionally manspreading. Unbelievable. Doesn’t he know that you’re supposed to be awkwardly silent and keep your thoughts to yourself on public transportation? Quentin has been a New Yorker (New Jersey-er) for long enough to know that subway etiquette is applicable, even thousands of feet in the air.
Unless you’re supposed to talk on planes?
gene kelly, eat your heart out by @aspiringtoeloquence for @themagicianshea
It’s over an hour’s drive into the center of Paris, where Quentin presumes most of the big hotels are, but he still keeps an eye out for the Eiffel tower – the one big Parisian landmark he’s confident he’ll recognize. But it seems like they must be on the other side of town, or something, because he can’t see anything that looks even remotely like it.
They’re quiet again, Eliot leaning against his door with his eyes closed. Quentin’s eyes float to Eliot’s carry-on, which must have been checked at some point, because it has a slightly ripped IND–EWR tag on it.
Indianapolis. Huh.
