#wolfsnape

Le bb va très bien en ce moment son truc le soir quand je vais me coucher c’est d’aller faire une sieste dans son panier pendant une heure puis de venir dormir avec moi contre mes oreillers 🥰

You. You get it.

(But also going on adventures with Faramir).

I love you even more!!

Tagged by @wolfsnape - thank you dear!!!!

1. What other creative arts do you partake in, if any?

pshhhhhh so I have a degree in illustration for all the good it's done me.  I’m working on coloring my Long Night illustration at the moment...  it’s in the dumpster fire stage.

2. Did you study writing formally, or is it a side passion?

I took plenty of creative writing classes in college but I somehow managed to never really produce much of anything.  I did more poetry than fiction.

3. What authors made a big impression on you? Why?

Oh boy.  Tolkien, Terry Pratchett, Catherynne M Valente, Lois McMaster Bujold, Neil Gaiman, Frances Hodgson Burnett, Mary Oliver, Robert Frost, Phillip K Dick, Joseph Campbell, I’m probably forgetting some.  Couple of those are poets and Campbell is the mythologist.  And just... because they’re amazing?  However I write like exactly none of them.

4. Have you ever collaborated with someone on a project? What was it?

No and tbh I would be a horrible collaborator.  I could illustrate though maybe?

5. What’s your favorite genre to read? Is it the same as the genre you write?

Fantasy with a sort of mythological flavor is my fave.  And uh.. no, not the same at all, haha.

6. Do you outline?

Well I’ve only ever done 2 multichap dealies so, in the case of Long Night, I started with nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  Not a clue.  Not a plan.  Just writing a couple random scenes.  You all know I’m an idiot.  Eventually I was like oh, it has a plot, and decided most of the ending.  Then the middle just kept expanding and expanding so I started doing an outline, but it quadrupled in size every time I went back to it and well here we are.

The Furies I DID start with an outline, but as usual. the middle kept on growing.  And now I’m stuck in it.

7. Do you snack while you write?

Hahaha, I am basically snacking at all times.  I drink lots of tea when writing but it’s kind of a problem because I constantly have to pee...

8. If given the choice, do you prefer writing indoors or outdoors?

I love being outdoors, but I don’t think I could write there.  Too much glare, too many distractions.

9. How do you deal with Writer’s Block?

Cry. Honestly this is my first time having it and I DON’T LIKE IT

10. Do you participate in online writing events like NaNoWriMo?

November is literally the worst month to have this, seriously.  Who isn’t busy all November?!  I have shit to bake!! 

But after I finished Long Night I was like, I can’t believe I thought I could never do NanoWriMo!  Look what I just did!  Sure it took me 6 months but it’s the length of 2 or 3 of some novels, so...

Then I realized I have 0 original ideas.  Womp womp.  Just need to somehow get hired to write for DW and I’m set!  Easy, right??  Hahaha.

Hey! Thanks for the questions! 

10. Favorite movies?

-You Me and Him-Iron Man 3-Love Actually-Sherlock Holmes-Coco

13. Do you believe in ghosts?

Yes, I do.

28. Do you like to drive?

I LOVE TO DRIVE. And sing while driving. However, usually other drivers/BIKERS are annoying me. I used to drive a lot around the town with my dad in the evenings and we talked a lot. That was quite cool, because sometimes I don’t find it easy to talk about difficult things. When I have to be focused on the driving, the talking is easier.

Hope you have a nice day, friend!

WARNING : VERY LONG POST

Siell - 7 - You’rereally cute and it’s ruining my life and I think about kissing youall the time

Ithad to stop. He’d never sleep again if he kept this going. Every timehe caught a glimpse of her, Siale would think about her lips. It wasmaddening. He couldn’t help it thought: now that he had had a taste(or several) he wanted more. Always.

Whenhe watched her put on chapstick he remembered the first time they hadkissed, in early winter. He had been pining over her for month,asking her on dates for weeks, before he had had the courage to leandown and settle his lips on hers. She had let out a faint “oh!”that had frozen his blood because he had been sure, for a fraction ofsecond, that he had gone too far and should have asked for herpermission with actual words and not just a recurent glances at herlips. But then she had relaxed and cupped his face as she kissed himback. There had been complete silence and fireworks behind hiseyelids. The world could have ended Siale would have pressed his lipsharder against Bell’s to make it lasted longer. Reluctantly he hadmoved away to catch his breath. Her flushed expression had his heartbeat twice faster. The smile she gave him almost killed him.

Whenhe watched her eat and lick the corner of her lips to make sure shedidn’t look like a dork he remembered every time she had let him in.He had waited until he was well aquainted with the shape of her mouthto ask her for more. He hadn’t spoken of course, only passed histongue on her bottom lip, and let her meet him. It had become a sortof kissing habit, to meet her half-way before they went deeper andforgot about where they were or what they had been doing the secondbefore. He liked that every time, she tasted differently. The firsttime had been refreshing, the next chocolate cookie sweet, thencoffee-cream sour. They had tried out once after spicy food but thefact they couldn’t feel their lips except for a weird swollensensation had convinced them not to try again. Each time they woulddraw back, Bell would giggle and kiss the tip of his nose, whisperinghe tasted nice. Siale would chuckle weakly and tell her she had tostop because his heart felt like ice cream in summer: melting.Obviously, he never meant it. The stopping part.

Whenshe came out of the shower in the morning, after spending the nightat his place, he would have full view on the marks he had left on herskin and would remember all the empty places he had left on purpose.He suspected she knew about this little thing he liked to do – kissher all over slowly, making his way down as he rolled his tonguesmoothly on her body and grazed his teeth on her skin to mark histerritory, but never as much as he wanted to. Because then, thefollowing morning, he would have the pleasure of seeing her halfnaked, and all the empty spaces he still had to trace the map of.He’d always start with a crooked grin that made her eyes shine with alewd light. Then he’d catch her hand, kiss her palm and all the wayup to her face as he pulled her to him. He liked the faint smell ofsoap that remained, he loved to see her pretend she wanted to resist.They had to go to school, catch the bus… Be damn with the bus. Ifshe wanted a ride so bad she could always – Bell cut him before hecould finish his sentence and he’d know he had won. He would brushher hair off her shoulder and kiss the crook of her neck in a waythat sent shivers along her spine. Her lips would tremble and she’dpress herself against him desperatly. He’d let his mouth follow herindications until – wherever that may be – they reached theirdestination. By the time they were done, they were late for class.But Siale didn’t mind. The satisfied and proud look on Bell’s facewas worth every hour of detention he could get. She was irresistible.

Sowhen she knocked on his door at one in the morning on his birthday,and he came to open to her – as discreetly as possible so hisgrandmother wouldn’t wake up and ruin the moment with a scold –Siale knew it had to stop. He had to stop bottling up all thosefeelings and ignore that each time his eyes fell on Bell it felt likethe world stopped spinning a fraction of second before turning on theturbo. He had to tell her. Tell her that he loved the way she tookoff her scarves and gave him access to her nape on purpose; or thathe loved how she would put a hand on his mouth to stop him fromdistracting her during revisions periods. He knew it took her all herstrength to resist, and he’d give in after a peck or two. Maybethree, if he was lucky. He had to tell her that just by existing shehad made his life worth living. So Siale took her in. Bell, with herloose tank top that showed just enough cliveage to tease him, herleather pants that he knew she disliked wearing during the summer butthat she had put on especially for him. He blushed so hard he thoughthe could feel the blood rush in his ears. His words escaped him.

“You’rereally cute and it’s ruining my life and I think about kissing youall the time!”

Bell’seyebrows shot up. He had taken her by surprise, once again. But itwas his birthday and she would have to hold all their kissingmemories away so that she could offer him new ones. She smirked. Tookhis hand. Put a finger on her lips to tell him not to make any noise.And she dragged him up the stairs, to his bedroom. At least one thingwas sure: it was his favourite place to kiss her.

—–

Gabss - 16 -

A:I’m amazed of how insignificant we actually are.

B:Not me, I’m important.

Theyhad had a perfect date at home. Gabrielle had bought a cosmos lampespecially for the occasion, so that they could lie down on thecarpet and stare at the stars projected on every four walls withoutsuffering the windy cold outside. Jess had prepared dinner, simpleand made of several small dishes they could nib while chatting. Thelamp had been the only source of light throughout the evening,covering them in hundreds of star flakes. When they had kissed, ithad felt otherworldly. Neither of them had dared to say out loud thattheir dates were one of their favourite things about being togetherbecause they made them feel special and important; they has preferredto express it in tiny gestures. A thumb brush, a side glance, adiscreet smile that grew wider when it met it other’s.

Holdingher breath, Gabrielle turned her head to look at her girlfriend. Theywere lying down, tucked in a blanket, holding hands. It always amazedher, the way she felt when she was with Jess. Like stars collidingand turning into sparks. So grand.

“Youknow,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off Jess’ profiletraced in the semi darkness, “I’m amazed of how insignificant weactually are.”

Jessturned to look at her. They were so close they could share a breath.She smiled. “Not me, I’m important.”

Gabriellegiggled and squeezed her hand. “I’m trying to be serious here…Imean, when you take into account how big the universe is and howsmall we are, inside this bedroom, even if we try to prove thecontrary… Yeah. I’m amazed of how insignificant we actually are.”

“Idon’t feel insignificant.” Jess’ repeated. Her voice was low andserious. She leaned an inch closer, so that she could speak her wordsdirectly against her girlfriend’s lips. “I don’t feelinsignificant. You brought the universe into my home Gabrielle.Tonight, and all the other nights that have passed since you agreedto go on a date with me. We’re not the stars, and sure, we’re justtwo girls in love in a tiny bedroom but… For me this feels biggerthan the universe. It’s significant. It’s our lives, and it’s such abig thing that we met and fell in love. I don’t know what theuniverse would have been like if it hadn’t been the case, but I sureas hell know I wouldn’t have been here. What I mean is…” her eyesflicked to Gabrielle’s, “we are big Gabs. Bigger than anything elsein the world because we are us. And that means something.”

Herlips stilled, and Jess could feel Gabrielle was holding back herbreath again. She kept it in so that it wouldn’t blow away what hadjust been said, so that it could hang in the air just a little longer– long enough to stick to the stars. Jess smiled gently and stoodon her elbow. She looked at her girlfriend, at the lost curl on herforehead, at her watery eyes. She let go of her hand to brush the tipof her fingers on her darkened cheeks. How could Gabrielle feelinsignificant, when she was all Jess could see?

Withouta word, Gabrielle rolled into Jess’ arms and hid her face against herchest. She heard her steady heartbeat, washing over her. She breathedout against her skin, and let go of the warm tears she had beenholding back. They rolled out of her onto Jess’ skin, abondent. Jesstried to shush her, combing her hair with her hand as she whisperedgentle words that Gabrielle barely heard. Her shoulders shook withsobs. She pressed herself into Jess, hugged her tightly so that shewouldn’t break into star dust. Crying was the only way she had not tocombust, to let her feelings pour out of her in all their intensity.She wanted to put them into words, let Jess hear them once more, buther throat felt dry and empty. There were no proper words to expresshow her chest rose and fell frantically, or how her head spun inawe. There were no proper words to tell Jess that whatever shape theuniverse was in, she was Gabrielle’s home. She was Gabrielle’simportant. She was Gabrielle’s significant.

—-

SALUT TUMBLR

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