"Tightening her hands on his elbows, Catherine opens her eyes. Connor’s eyes are already open and he looks deeply into hers, asking with all the silent strength he can muster. A tremor runs through her under his amber gaze and she closes her eyes and raises her chin just enough to let his lips touch hers. His fingers travel farther into her hair and he breathes in through his nose as he gently kisses her soft lips. He strokes her shoulder and pulls back, brushing his lips over hers before retaking them in another slow kiss, trapping her bottom lip between his. A small noise escapes the back of her throat. Not wanting to move too fast, Connor draws away again." - Misguided, chapter 10 “Truth”
having to use your own art as reference cause you forgot how to draw
having to go back to reread previous chapters of your own story as a reference because you forgot how to write
Sometimes I reread a chapter and go, “Oh yeaaaah! I forgot about that part!”
My story USB was broken but the hubby fixed it + transferred everything to a new one! Let the writing resume!
Misguided AU: If only Francisco had decided to start his own business growing coffee instead of following in his father’s footsteps. LOL
Thanks, nenoka for the picture!
you know whatd be a fun exercise
get a writer and an artist together. artist does a sketch, writer writes a handful of paragraphs. they give them to each other.
writer has to write a handful of paragraphs on the scene depicted in the sketch, and it cant be just like, describing it. artist has to draw a new sketch from the writing.
it’d be a neat lil’ flex-the-muscles sort of thing.
this is literally me + jodeeeart
Commissioned piece for the Lovely mme-curie
Her Oc from her AC3 FF Misguided. follow this link for Misguided and all her other AC FF’s http://archiveofourown.org/users/MmeCurie/pseuds/MmeCurie
I am currently taking commissions, for pricelist an full works please head to http://jodeee.deviantart.com/
"Catherine’s words are muffled as she pulls the coal grey petticoat on over her head.
'Of course! I've known him for years!' Bethany helps Catherine put on the overdress and turns her around to button the double row of black buttons up the front of the pointed bodice and tie the ribbons that hold the sleeves tight to her elbows. She fluffs out the layers of long, white lace that extend from the ends of the sleeves over her forearms and smoothes the silvery brocade fabric so it hangs without a single wrinkle. A filmy piece of gauze goes on next, looping loosely around her shoulders and tucking neatly into the front of her bodice, covering her exposed neckline modestly and giving the illusion of more underneath. Bethany sits Catherine down in a chair to busily pin her hair up, smoothing her curls into ringlets by dipping her fingers into a little water from the nearby ewer and twirling sections of it.
Bethany twirls the last two sections of Catherine’s hair and lets the long curls spiral over her right shoulder. She lifts a hat with two large, white feathers draping over the top of it from the sideboard and places it lightly on Catherine’s head, positioning it so it doesn’t crush the curls and pinning it into place by skewering it with a large hatpin before letting her hands come to rest on the back of the chair.
Connor jumps to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over with his spastic movement, and looks Catherine over with wide eyes when she emerges from the sitting room. She is stunningly elegant in the dress Bethany had clothed her in and the way she stands with her hands clasped demurely in front of her makes her appear tiny and afraid. He prefers her in the clothes he is used to her wearing so seeing her like this is a jolt to his senses. It reminds him that she is originally a woman of New York, a world he still feels separated from in so many ways. Catherine smiles shyly at him and lowers her face, hiding it behind the narrow brim of her hat and the fullness of her curls. How can clothing and a hairstyle transform her into such a fragile and vulnerable creature? Bethany bustles past him, too intent on something to notice his concern. She returns with an extensive length of deep maroon fabric and ties it around Catherine’s waist, letting the long ends dangle down the back of her skirt.”
“‘I do not lie about such things.’ Something about the man’s tone has the ring of truth in it. As terrifying as he is, Thomas sees honesty in his eyes.
'She took th' dark horse with th' white stripe on her face an' white feet. It's her horse. Said she needed to get her things. She… she tole me t' leave here.'
'Do as she says… Thank you.' As quickly as the man had appeared, he is gone but when Thomas looks over the edge of the roof he sees him in his white clothing running off in the same direction Catherine had gone. The man uses one hand to vault over the fence and then he is gone.” - Misguided, chapter 20 “Inquisition”
"The afternoon wears onward yet Edward tarries at the counter with Adewale. With no way to collect any revenue from him drinking his own liquor, he has effectively taken away any need for his lovely business partner to speak with him. She lingers near the opposite side of the long wooden bartop and studiously ignores his presence, choosing instead to lavish her coveted attention upon an enthusiastic drunk who’s generous with his coin and his compliments to her.
To Edward’s dismay, she returns his pathetic flirtations rather convincingly. Perhaps… too convincingly. She even spares Edward one sidelong glance as the man kisses her hand. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she allows the sot to keep his filthy fingers on her hand and wrist and to continue kissing her knuckles from time to time.
'Jaysus, Ade, he’s slobberin’ like a bleedin’ dog all over her! And I can’t even get close enough to talk to her without having something to sell!' When the man openly gawks at her cleavage and kisses her hand yet again while her attention is diverted conversing with someone else, Edward has had enough. He stands abruptly, knocking his seat aside. Before Adewale can even voice a word of caution, Edward is shouting. He points a finger at the drunk seated several paces from him.
'Oy! You! Get yer’ pissin’ lips off her, ya slimy shite, before I cut them off!'” - La Sombra, chapter 2 “Liquid Gold in a Bottle”
when you find out your friend shares your kinks
You all know who you are!