🙋‍♀️...particularly When Emma Dragged Regina Into The Closet After Henry Ate The Apple Turnover

Please enjoy my bird admiring his likeness I drew for him because he is the best.

Descriptionary

Descriptionary

Helping Writers Find The Words

I stumbled across this site a few weeks ago--lots of useful info for if and when you feel like your descriptions are getting repetitive!

There is nothing better than walking the dog and managing to come up with a breakthrough for your original fic plot.

Good thing the Godolphin Arabian has a murky origin story...

Revisiting a couple drawings of Airiam I did in ClipStudio last year and now I have a new fic idea...

Gonna rewrite Discovery post 2x09. Yup. That's what I'm gonna do.

Once For the Light and The Ithaca Mandate are finished...Buckle up.

ETA TBD.

Snippet from The Farm at Wardenwood Hollow

On the dryer, the old tabby cat she’d inherited with the apartment was coiled tight into a wad of scraggy fur on a pile of clean clothes she’d folded and forgotten to put away. He purred in his sleep, oblivious to her presence in his soundless, elderly world, so she tapped twice on the fabric to let him know she was home. He blinked and unfurled, long and ribby, mouth gaping open in a nearly-toothless yawn. She held out her hand and he bumped his head against it, then turned in a circle and curled back up on the clothes.

“Rough day?” she asked him, smirking as she rolled the towels and laid them in the cabinet beneath the sink. “Must be nice, freeloadin’ like you are. Ain’t even got the good graces to hear me when I’m talkin’.”

From the medicine cabinet, she pulled out the bag of prescription cat food, dropping a couple scoops into the bowl she kept on the shelf behind the washer and dryer, then wetting it with water from the sink. The tabby watched her, blinking slow and uninterested as she worked, then yawned again when she was done.

For a few seconds, Taryn stood there with her hands on her hips, same as she always did, waiting for the cat to decide whether or not to waste the food, same as he always had.

“Heck with ya,” she said after a minute, then flipped the switch for the fan and the light over the tub. “But I ain’t leavin’ it out all night this time. You damn near put me in an early grave dumpin’ that last bowl while I was sleepin’.”

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Synopsis:

Taryn Monroe prefers simplicity–her place in the mountains, the predictable rhythm of her job at the mill, and the peace that comes with keeping to herself.

Every Tuesday, a woman shows up at precisely fifteen minutes to close. Taryn doesn’t know much about her–just the rumble of her truck, the way she never wastes words, and the peculiar gallon of sulfur she buys each week.

Then one Tuesday, she doesn’t show up.

Taryn tells herself to leave it alone, that it’s not her business and the woman can handle herself. But when she overhears an argument and starts asking questions, she can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong–and her life becomes anything but simple.

Something wild is living in the barn at Wardenwood Hollow–something keeping the woman bound to the old Sterling Farm.

And Taryn may be her only chance to break free.

Seasons in NY have even less of an attention span than I do. Will it be winter? Spring? Is that my horse or a mud beast season? Invasive European Starlings swarming and making my house look like it needs an exorcism season? Nobody knows.

It's the weekend and I can WRITE STUFF.

Yay.

Right after I dig the turkey shed out of the snow 😭

Me explaining Voyager to my friends in a nutshell.

I drew Voyager after Janeway gets done with it.

Poor thing. It's traumatized.

Add some leather and a few questionable morals and you have Farscape.

I want a reverse Star Trek, where instead of there being only one or two aliens on a crew full of humans, there's only one human on a crew full of aliens. And like, balls-to-wall weird aliens. Like one of them was bred for low-gravity asteroid mining, so he lives in a little hutch on the outside of the ship; one of them is just a cloud of birds with each individual bird being nonsentient, but they form a hivemind together with natural radiotransmitters in their brains; one of them is a liquid, but not the kind of liquid like Odo where it can take other shapes, so it just needs to be wheeled around everywhere in a tank, etc.