my collaborations


Art Collab what the lovely @bev-nap

We decided to do a fun art collaboration together of our wonderful OTP, Prompto and Noctis from FFXV! In this version, she did the coloring and I did the lineart! I hope I did some justice to our boys! It was loads of fun and I loved tackling another style that meshed so well with mine!  ✯

☆ You can find the sister collaboration >>here<< ☆
❧ ❧ In that collaboration you’ll find that I did the coloring and she did a fantastic job with the lineart!!

Writing Meme

I was tagged by @clairelutra​! I tag all my writer friends. O u O

Where do you publish your work?

FanFiction.Net, AO3, dreamwidth, and here.

What medium/application/etc. do you write in or with?

Good ol’ Microsoft Word. The last 20-something chapters of Tell Yourself were written on Google Docs. For drabbles I use Tumblr’s text post. As for original fiction, first drafts are handwritten if I can manage it.

Do you collaborate with others?

I’ve collaborated with all you awesome folk to make the sidekick AU something truly special! Once upon a time I collaborated with my lovely friend Kate on a comic strip. Mostly I just scream at my friends until I work out my own plots, though. As I told my thesis advisor last night, “I’m so used to writing in a vacuum.”

How much editing do you do before you publish?

I proofread once and post because I’m terribly impatient ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Do you listen to music when you write?

Most of the time. Music tends to influence my writing. A lot.

How do you decide what to write about?

My brain, dearest Penny, comes up to me and violently beats me with a manila folder containing a story idea. I cry and beg for mercy. She continues, her eyes devoid of pity…

When do you write?

Whenever I feel like it.

How often do you write?

Currently, every day.

Do you take requests? Why/why not?

Sometimes I do, when I’m in the mood to write something I didn’t think of.

Is there any genre or type of story you want to write but are hesitant to?

Horror! I don’t like it and I’m not good at writing it, yet here are the ideas for short horror stories… just piling up…

Any inspirational quotes, videos, tricks, articles, etc. that help you stay motivated?

Shipping is a pretty great motivator. I’m so desperate for Adrien/Chat Noir and Marinette/Ladybug to know each other that I’m imagining a million different scenarios in which they do, or will.

Go to page 7 of your WIP, skip to the 7th line, and share 7 sentences.

But I’m not on page seven yet! ;O; Here’s whatever’s convenient:

“So I brought us some dinner.”

Marinette stared at him as he walked past. “Us?”

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” he asked.

She hadn’t. Marinette blushed and whipped off her apron. “That’s very sweet of you.”

((I need these two to kiss already.))


ダンガンロンパ3 -The End of 希望ヶ峰学園-」x「崩壊学園

‘Danganronpa 3 - The End of Kibougamine Gakuen’ collaboration with ‘Hokai Gakuen’

The Peacock Robe : a collaboration between Bonnie-wee-swordsman and Outlandolled

So this wee story and original costume came about after the delightful @bonnie-wee-swordsman and I started chatting and suddenly we had this fabulous idea to team up on a story together inspired by a costume design of mine. And literally within hours, bonnie had written a BRILLIANT story and I had a rather gorgeous robe to quickly sew. 

Hope you all enjoy! 

It’s set in the Voyager timeline, very soon after Printshop! 😁

And oh yes, before I forget, it’s very definitely NSFW! 😉

 I sat nervously on the corner of the bed at Madame Jeanne’s, gnawing my thumbnail as I waited for Jamie to return from an errand with Fergus. While Jamie had offered repeatedly to find space for us at an inn or tavern, I had refused, saying I was perfectly amenable to our unconventional accommodation, now reassured that he was neither its proprietor nor in the habit of sampling its wares. Besides, I had thought to myself with the spark of a notion, lodging in a brothel did provide one with access to a unique variety of amenities.

The ladies had been more than happy to assist earlier that evening with getting me dolled up a bit. My hair had been washed and styled, and I smelt sweetly of jasmine oil, having flatly refused the first suggestion of hyacinth. Likewise, I had steered clear of any white paints (knowing that these likely contained toxic lead), but allowed them to darken my lashline with kohl and to add a touch of rouge to my cheeks and lips.

I had just risen off the bed to check my appearance in the looking glass once more (afraid that in my nervousness I might have sweated it all off) when I heard Jamie’s footsteps coming up the stair. Odd, that even after twenty years, I still could recognize his gait. I hastened into position, blood pounding through me with anticipation. Here goes.

Jamie wasn’t two steps into the room before he stopped dead.

It was a gorgeous thing: a blood-red satin robe with embroidered peacock feathers stretching up gracefully from the hem. It caught the candlelight magnificently and cast my skin all around in a rosy, sensuous glow. I had come upon it in the costuming room where Fergus and I had had our reunion. I’d supposed it to be the partner of the embroidered-groping-hands shift I had happened to be wearing at the time. While the feathers spoke of subtle sensuality (the fact that they were of the peacock variety was surely no accident) it was in itself an innocent-looking garment compared with the bawdy thing meant to be worn underneath. However, there was nothing innocent whatsoever about how I was wearing the robe now. While tied firmly at the décolletage with a ribbon, its ends flowed open on their way to my feet, displaying very obviously that I wore not a stitch underneath. In fact, with regards to my–ahem–front aspects, only my nipples were left to the imagination (and those just barely). I was leaned back against the bedpost, both arms behind my back and one leg tucked modestly (ha!) in front of the other like a beauty queen. I couldn’t keep a smirk of satisfaction and pleasure from my lips as I saw Jamie’s mouth still hanging open, his face quite blank. Speechless, eh, lad?

Then, quite suddenly, his expression darkened, brows furrowing as his lip curled in unmistakable disgust. “And what in God’s name is that rubbish, then?”

The shock hit me as though he had thrown ice water in my face. “Rubbish?” I said, stepping away from the bedpost, my voice several octaves higher than normal from hurt and indignation.

“Aye,” he said, gesturing toward me, “that whore’s getup ye’ve got on!”

Absolutely mortified, I turned a deep red (red as the garment itself, surely). Jesus H. Christ, you knew this was foolish, Beauchamp. You’re nearly fifty years old for heaven’s sake. I pulled the robe shut and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring fiercely at him in a show of outrage that I hoped concealed the tears that were beginning to sting my eyes.

“And wi’ your face painted up like one of the wee strumpets downstairs? Jesus, Claire!” He set down the parcel he’d been carrying with a thud on the table, scoffing. “I canna believe ye would even dare think–”

“I’ll have you know,” I said hotly, throwing myself fully into outrage to keep from crying in front of him, “that in my time it is considered perfectly respectable for a lady to wear cosmetics AND lingerie, particularly in her own bedroom with her own husband!” I turned my back and jerked at the ribbon at my throat. “I thought you would find me sexy in it–” There’s a new word for you, I thought about saying, though I was too busy struggling with the knot in the bloody ribbon. “–But apparently you think I’m too old or–or–fat–or matronly to ‘dare think’ I could arouse such–”

“Ye didna let me finish, Claire.”

In my bluster, I hadn’t realized that he had come up right behind me. I froze, his breath hot on my ear and down my neck. His voice was impossibly deep…impossibly soft…

“What I was about to say was…”

Slowly, he brought one hand across my torso, lightly brushing aside the fabric to encircle my bare breast. He gave a low chuckle as I gasped, feeling him tease the nipple.

“...that I canna believe…”

He began moving his other hand slowly downward from my waist, my knees beginning to give way as the scratching whisper of his fingers over satin vanished into the silence of my bare skin.

…ye would even dare think…”

I moaned as his fingers slid deftly between my legs.

“ were lacking a single…solitary…thing...”

The hand at my breast left off, moving upward to loosen the ribbon, and he lifted his lips from the crook of my neck and shoulder, his voice the lowest, most gravelly whisper I had ever heard.

“ make my cock throb so badly I canna breathe…”

The ribbon came free and the ruby robe slid to the ground, puddling around my feet as he pulled me back hard against him. His lips closed hot and maddeningly around my earlobe as he whispered–

…or make me want to do things to make ye scream louder than anyone else under this roof.”

With that deep, visceral growl of lust vibrating against me and the motions of his hands already making me see stars

…I hadn’t the faintest doubt that I would..

anonymous asked:

If you're accepting hc for the Diet Coke au: To go along with Daichi being with Iwa chan.. Daichi wearing shorts and Suga the lovely receptionist, who is confused and wants to see what the commotion is about, goes to the window, sees Dachi and accidentally says in a not so quiet voice, THIGHS. Daichi turns to look at the source but Suga runs away in a mess of blush and embarrassment. Teasing from the co-workers ensues. Also I love your art!!<3

I LO VE IT OMG that works so well fUCK asdfghjkl;


“Hey Dipper, c'mere! You got to see this!” Bill’s whisper cut through the cold November air as Dipper plodded over to him, looking at what his friend was excitedly pointing to. Sitting mere inches away from the two of them was a grey rabbit, it’s brown eyes staring at them emotionlessly.

Dipper stared quizzically at Bill. They saw wildlife up close all the time, how was this one any different? Bill didn’t seem to notice, staring at the animal with the biggest look of awe and wonder, which only grew bigger as the rabbit hopped closer to him and nuzzled against his legs.

The little human bent over and gently picked up the rabbit, gasping as he petted it’s fur. “It’s so… precious…” Bill looked down at the rabbit before looking up at Dipper, his eyes now wide with pleading. “Can we keep it? Please?”

Dipper paused. Taking care of a rabbit was a big deal, and Bill would have gotten in huge trouble if Penta had found out that he had been taking care of him, much less a rabbit.

But Bill looked so happy with the little creature in his arms. One more addition to their little family couldn’t hurt…

Dipper nodded, smiling as Bill squealed with excitement. He was immediately dragged along as Bill started planning how they’d accommodate their little friend, what it’d eat, how it would survive the winter.

“Wait!” Bill shrieked, stopping suddenly. Dipper had to scramble over his legs as not to run over his friend. The human lifted the little bunny up, bringing them eye to eye with each other. “What should we call you?”

Dipper thought for a moment, then tapped Bill on the shoulder, signing six quick letters.


Bill’s eyes widened once more, then he grinned as he turned his gaze from his friend to the rabbit. “Bun Bun! That’s perfect!”

“Bill, Dipper and Bun Bun! Family forever!”



Okay, with that out of the way… here’s that writing piece for that really nicely drawn picture you sent me God knows how long ago! I don’t remember everything from your Guardian AU, so I’m sorry if I got anything wrong, but one of my personal headcannons is that after Bill tries to teach Dipper English, they both discover ASL and decide to use that instead, hence why Dipper is mute the entire time.

I hope you love this Auntie Echo, and I can’t wait to see more from you in the future!

Love ya, RT


This was super fun to do!!!! thank you so much for doing this with me!! and i love that idea of him using sign language aa!! i love bunbun this is so cute 10/10

i did love it!! so much!!cant wait to see more from you too friend!!!!!

“Don’t rewrite someone’s work how YOU would have written it. That isn’t editing. Editing is bringing out the best of the story in line with the author’s voice, tone and goal.” - Amanda Pillar 

I have seen too many non-professional people who fancy themselves to be editors (and a couple of pro editors) fail at this very thing. Not to mention editors confusing ‘editing advice’ with ‘emotionally abusing a writer.’ If your editor - after you get back rewrites and notes - makes you feel like you want to write less, sweat bullets over the idea of writing, stress out about writing ‘right’ or feel like the process of creating is becoming only more and more painful over time, ditch them, and ditch them fast. Not everyone gets notes they like (that is the point of editing, after all), but you always have the right to reject anything that doesn’t click, and you should always walk away from a collaboration with an editor feeling stronger, not weaker.

I’m very fortunate that I got to interact with professional, lauded editors of great projects at university, and then later on in life as I pursued varied professional projects. All in all, I’ve probably met about 20-30 editors over the years, and I’ve learned much, including what a good editor won’t do to you or your work. I’ve had the privilege to work with professional editors on different published works (from poetry, to short stories, and now onto novels - some award winning and nominated) and I know how this process is supposed to go. I’ve seen too many authors and authors-who-don’t-know-better get crushed by people who believe they know best for a story and really don’t. 

Remember - You always have the right to ask for a new editor at a publishing house if your visions don’t mesh (and they won’t always). You always have the right to pull your work from an editor if they are destroying your work (it does happen, and I’ve recently seen one publisher in particular begin to fall apart because of this). A relationship with an editor should be collaborative. The editor needs to be consummately respectful of the author’s concept of style, execution. Ultimately an editor is there to assist a writer in the writer’s own work, not sneak their own voice and style into someone else’s work. The latter is not making a work stronger, but making it into something twisted. The true collaboration is when two people come together to make the original story shine in the way the author always intended it to, and the editor knows exactly what to bring to make that happen. 

An editor who insists brutality is key is not a professional. They go against most codes of ethics in many editing organisations in the world. An editor who uses abusive language is not a professional. An editor who tells you ‘this is how real editing is’ when they aren’t a member of an Editing Society and do not have an Editing Degree and don’t have any published books behind them is grandstanding. They are also lying to you about what the editing industry is like. Don’t believe me? Ask an editor affiliated with a Society with multiple published books behind them. An editor who is proud of their ability to be brutal above and beyond respecting the author’s voice, is an editor who enjoys the feeling of being right (whether or not they are) above respecting your creative work and passion.

If you tried to write the equivalent of a rose quartz, and your editor insists you need to be writing the equivalent of a smokey quartz - do yourself a favour, get the fuck out. 

A brief chat with Laura Yahna

Laura Yahna is definitely one of my favourite artists around for blackwork tattoos. Her commistion of traditional bold lines and scary, occult, dark imaginery is basically perfect. I’ve got the chance to talk to her for a collaboration with my clothing brand Holy Lovers, and I didn’t miss the chance to collaborate again asking her a few questions. She’s been of few words, but her art speaks for itself.

Hi Laura, intrsoduce yourself
My name is laura yahna, iam 30 years old and come from berlin, germany.

Introduce your art
I do blackwork tattoos

What inspires you?
Everything. Other tattooers, music, movies, nature, life.

Your toughts on tattoos becoming a trend, media exposition etc.
Difficult. I am not a fan of tattooing in tv shows. But I guess we cant change that something like that happens. I try not to get angry or dissappointed about it.

Any less known tattoo artist we should follow?
Calina Hain

Suggest us a band, a movie, a book, or a painter, whatever you want.
Some band i listen to when i draw at the moment:
Colour Haze, Saviours, Kadavar, Janis Joplin

Describe your creative process, from client/your idea to final design/tattoo.
Most of my clients give me some rough ideas, i try to find as much good images of it in book and in the internet and than i start to draw. i show the sketch to my customer when we have the appointment. Mostly they like it and we start to tattoo.

What do you do when you are not tattooing?
Eating, sleeping, traveling, drawing

What do you look for in a tattoo artist, as a client and collector?
I just have to like it. My subconsious is choosing i guess

Free space, say what you want.
I am still suprised that cats are scared of cucumbers.

T-shirts available on Holy Lovers

Laura Yahna

Tattooer in Berlin at Pechschwarz Tattoo