#did i think i would ever write more for this tiny fandom? no. but here we are

[herosofmarvelanddc]

Summary:

Three years ago, Ressler saw Liz get shot. He held her bleeding body, begging her to hold on. And then she vanished. Now, he’s moved back to Detroit, he’s raising Agnes, and he’s trying to move on. Until he gets a call from Aram.

So I wrote another little Keenler fix-it fic inspired by some of my favorite fanfics. Might add more, might not. Let me know what you think!

[silverflqmes]

your writing is my everything omg...you say you're quite new to the ff7 fandom, but you're so insane at writing the characters, its amazing. AHEM ANYWAYS <3 I was wondering if you could write some sephiroth x reader (who's love language is physical touch, and is quite energetic, and loud. However, more soft-spoken and gentle with him.) Knocking on his door at 3am only to find him awake, and it turns in to a cuddling session 💗

໒⦂ 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍.

notes. anskwjsdj anon, that’s so sweet to hear🥺 i swear i’m new, really!😭 i got into it back in february so it hasn’t been very long.. but i appreciate your words, they’re very reassuring since i doubt my portrayals a lot :’) i hope this post is to your liking!<3

genre. fluff + comfort

sephiroth x gn!reader.

shinra was ever quiet into the late evening as you tiptoed down the corridor of suites, careful not to stumble or make a ruckus. after all, normal people were asleep around this hour, even if you weren’t one of them.

but.. neither was your boyfriend, apparently, and you were about to make that his problem.

reaching the end of the hall, a soft breath spilled from your lips as you raised your fist to gently knock, grinning brightly. “sephirothhh.. it’s meeeee, your beloved y/n!” you sang as quiet as can be, suppressing a giggle before adding in a whispered yell, “open up before i freeze my ass off!”

it was a known fact that he, like his other peers, was graced with enhanced senses. which included hearing — among many other qualities to detect your presence, of course.

that being said, sephiroth had to be aware of your arrival, and by the pattern of footfalls echoing behind the door, it seemed he was!

liquid mercury framing a pale, ethereal face emerged through the crack of the doorframe, lips pulled into the tiniest of smiles. “apologies, i wasn’t aware i would be receiving company at this hour.” he finally spoke, sidestepping as an unvoiced invitation. “to what do i owe the pleasure of your lovely presence?”

with a quick kiss to his cheek, you threw your arms around him after twisting the lock, humming softly. “well, i must confess that i was suffering of boredom, lingering caffeine and a horrid lack of sephitonin.. so i decided to do something about that!”

a soft peck was placed on the flat of your temple in return, a noise of amusement following. “sephitonin, you say? and a lack of it? my, that sounds terrible, it simply won’t do.” sephiroth murmured back, cradling your body close to his by the hips. “what is your solution, if i might inquire?” there were several things that came to mind, but somehow you always had a way of going beyond his assumptions.

this was no exception. “a kiss for every minute that we have been apart sounds promising.. or a cuddle session until dawn, that sounds very appealing too.. then again, a goodnight’s rest on your thighs sounds lovely as well.. is ‘all the above’ an option here?”

a chuckle tumbled from his rosewood appendages, eyes crinkling at the corners. “hm.. just for you,” he paused, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. “i’d be willing to allow all of your suggestions. however, dawn is not far off.” the general warned, tracing his thumb over your warm skin. “we’d better get started.”

leaning into his cold, yet soothing hand, you allowed yourself to enjoy his touch for only a moment before letting out a tiny gasp. “you are so right. i should have infiltrated your apartment much sooner.” you concluded, pulling away to slip your fingers through the crevices of his pale ones. “it seems we have four hours at best and many, many kisses in dire need of compensation.. think you can handle this job, SOLDIER?”

though he knew the answer already, sephiroth fed into the silly act and made a contemplative sound, tapping a finger on his chin. “it will be a great feat, but i would not be a SOLDIER first if i could not accomplish this for my beloved.” he answered finally, smiling at the way you beamed up at him. did you always have to be so adorable?

“great! then it’s settled,” you giggled, tugging him forward. “to the bedroom we go!”

and to the bedroom you both went, laughter echoing all the way to the threshold where you fell back onto the collection of pillows with a bright grin.

the feline eyed male was quick to fill the spot beside you, pulling your body into the shape of his own as his nose buried into the crook of your neck.

kisses were peppered in his wake, snickers eliciting from your lips at the moonlight colored strands brushing over the curve of your cheek. it was utter bliss, being in his arms as you were, the signature rose and vanilla clinging to the air surrounding you both. somehow it was more prominent than normal; perhaps he had washed his hair after arriving home. either way, the scent put you at complete ease, as always.

“comfortable?” velvet cut through the silence, a gentle murmur against your ear.

you couldn’t help your giddiness at his affections, smiling like a teenager in love as you nuzzled against him. “incredibly, i’m about to have the best sleep ever.”

bemused, sephiroth shifted to tuck your head underneath his chin, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “truly? well, i’m happy that i can provide you with such. i’ll certainly be sleeping nicely tonight as well.” a slumber devoid of the usual nightmares? with his beloved? he’d take it any day, no matter the timeframe in which you ask.

“good,” you muttered back, pressing your lips to his collarbone as your legs tangled with his own. “i want you to rest well too, i know it’s been harder as of late.. so i, y’know, wanna accommodate as best as i can.”

for a moment he fell quiet, though his arms- they spoke volumes of gratitude when they tightened just slightly around your form.

eventually, he found his voice again. “thank you, my love.”

notes. kinda short but i offer you a dose of sephitonin🤲 i’ve been adjusting to uni life so i haven’t been able to get to requests but i will do my best to gradually put out! just bear with me until then pls!🥺🫶

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[chevvy-yates]

Sending out kudos to everyone who has shown their love towards Ryder for the past two years.

I love u all very much and every engagement, be it even just a like, means a lot to me.

I've intended to sorta make a cool post of some older vp of him as of today, September 17th, exactly 2 years ago I have created Ryder,— back then as a supposed supportive character for Vijay, very unsure if I would like him as Ry didn't visually turn out as I wanted him to be in the first place and he never went that way either afterwards — yet I find myself writing those lines instead.

I've accepted his look and his imperfection started to grow on me with each picture I took of him. Unlike my other ocs he went his own way leading me along to discover his personality. That's what makes him so different compared to my other blorbos and has me so attached to him.

I did not plan to make him a raver (he was supposed to become an 80s goth punk, a total different style than he's got now) neither that he would end up with a rogue AI controlling him. Only his name, basic info and the toxic family story was planned right from the beginning but that's pretty much it – Ryder showed me the rest of it.

Within the year 2023 I noticed more and more that Ryder has slowly but surly turned out to be my main character.

He turned out to be the most expressive and photogenic one of them all. I don't see him as the prettiest looking either yet he's my most precious and I love every pixel about him.

He's the one thing in my life I am actually truly 100% proud of.

Almost all my ocs exist because of him. They are his support characters. Without him half of them would not even exist. There would be no Thyjs. Even Garnet exists so Ry can live out his passion (that was not really put into the game but exists as lore: Technoise).

I am beyond happy to have created him.

He helps me in a lot of rather personal ways too I do not need to address here.

I got so much to tell about him (also about my other ocs) yet idk if I should continue or not as I find myself stuck with overthinking about it bc of lack of public response literally everywhere (this excludes private chat talks with close friends). Maybe Ryder's too intimidating (not the first time I would read that), his lore gets overlooked easily, or it's to much (confusing) text.

I cannot make anyone force-like him. Tastes are different. Minority is into others oc lore. Less time to read it all. The list is long. I'm aware of it all.

But I cannot underline it enough: do never hesitate to ask me questions about him. He's on my mind 24/7 and my biggest wish is to get this story out and done some day (whenever it will be) and receive some actual feedback on it what was liked.

Just a tiny detail is enough. <3

Another wish I have ever since I joined the CP77 fandom: that people would go back to comment each other more. We all do have little time for it, we all think "oh no so much text to read", we all are in our own bubbles rarley coming out to explore another bubble within this universe. It takes a lot of effort to do. people do seem scared on top to write anything at all for numerous reasons. I have all those problems as well. But I try to sit down and read the one or other lore chunk others wrote down and give a tiny comment as best as I can to make the creator have a smile on their lips. I truly wish we all would do this at least once a week to one person. once a month would be also fine. But if we don't this fandom will be dead soon enough and all thats left is just liking vp with characters on it we know almost nothing about. And maybe even those characters won't have lore anymore bc people stop creating it.

[ebonystarfall]

Hey, I just saw your blog, and I'm so excited to see more of this fandom!! Could you write some Red Son x M!reader, where reader is a dragon? Maybe a familiar of Mei, who is very cold and introvert. Maybe an ice dragon??? Also, if you're not comfortable with male reader, can you make it gn? Thanks!!

Blazing Flames and Frigid Ice

Red Son x M!Dragon Reader

Created by: Starbeam (Owner 1)

Type of content: Headcanons

Pov: Second

Word count: 562

TW: N/A

A/N: I’ve played so many pjsk matches that I want to curl up and cry. However, I will write this to ignore everything on my CRK blog (I still love it, just a bit tired). Also decided to read Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol and loved it. Please read it. Oh, by the way I made the reader be Mei’s cousin.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

For starters, Mei introduced the two of you sometime after s3 and before s4, stating that of course she would want her favorite cousin to meet the hot-tempered (but overall heroic) mentor she had when she was training to control the Samadhi Fire. Of course, Red Son and you didn’t…well, let’s just say that the two of you didn’t get along. While you were much more cold and indifferent, he was much more vocal on the fact that he did NOT need to be meeting another arrogant dragon…

And both of you thought of the other as a pompous, ignorant snob, that was for sure. Not like you planned to voice your opinion.

Yet, it was Mei that brought the two of you for a day of fun and gaming. Since MK was busy with other things, this was a great opportunity to see how her favorite cousin and one of her best friends would interact!

…she basically decided to put you and Red Son in a gladiator match for gaming. (You both tied and were equally pissed at that fact)

—

For the next few days you were staying at Mei’s house, you unfortunately had to deal with seeing the Bull Prince more. Especially the times when she made you tag along with him. Honestly? You’d much rather stay in bed eating ice instead of going out in the sun and next to someone who literally controls fire. You can handle if Mei’s just there, but when two people with pyrokinesis are by you? Yeah, you felt like turning into a puddle for the most part.

Surprisingly, Red Son was the one who noticed this first, and he actually kept his distance from you for the most part. On a day that was particularly hot, he decided to begrudgingly buy you an ice cream. During this, your cousin was giving you ALL types of teasing looks, basically saying, “I think someone has a crushhhhh…” ;)

You decided to ignore them for the most part, because there was absolutely no way that either of you could ever have a crush on-

He let you lean on him when the three of you were watching a horror movie.

Most of the time, the two of you were just blaming the directors and actors for making everything look stupid instead of scary. Yet…in that moment, you guessed you could tolerate him for the time being. He didn’t seem so hot-tempered after all. Or was he only this way around you?

—

At the end of the sleepover, when Red Son was about to leave, you felt the urge to walk up to him. Of course, he was slightly annoyed and confused, but all that vanished as you pressed a hesitant little kiss against his cheek. He stared at you in complete shock, an immediate blush appearing on his face as he looked away.

You paused. Had you done something wrong? Was he mad? Oh, gods, you knew that it was a bad idea, what if he didn’t lik-

Now it was your turn to blush as he gave you a tiny kiss on the forehead, then he immediately started to walk away awkwardly, clearly flustered and embarrassed. You actually felt…warm, after that. No ice could compare to what the hell just happened here.

Well…guess you were definitely planning to stay at Mei’s place more, weren’t you?

[zaebeecee]

…and so, the spider captured the serpent

A Zestial/Sir Pentious one-shot••

•••

Just a little “what if” for a meeting between these two. A request by my darling @alastorsfluffydeertail who never fails when it comes to inspiration. I’m sorry this took so long, dear, I started this the same hour I read your ask and then I remembered how hard Elizabethan English is to write. But, I do know how to write it pretty okay! I knew all the Shakespeare would pay off one day.

Yeah, yeah, some people only ever suggested this as a crack ship because they have Ozzie and Fizz’s VAs. Don’t care + didn’t ask + I just think they’re cute okay? Also Pentious doesn’t get enough love as a serious character in the fandom and that infuriates me.

•••

It was not working.

That was unusual. Sir Pentious was an inventor, quite possibly the most accomplished within the Pride Ring, and he had not become an inventor by way of his inventions not working. As a matter of fact—if he might be so bold as to make outlandish claims—he had become an inventor by way of his inventions working, and as the little mechanical spider sat on his table, mocking him with its lack of proper movement, Pentious felt… he felt…

Well, he felt pissed off.

Heaving a sigh that did little to quell the burgeoning and directionless anger within him, Pentious slumped down until he was coiled on the ground, his arms folded on his work bench and his chin resting on the edge of the wood. “If I threw you at the wall,” he hissed, “you would burst into a fantastic rain of a thousand tiny screws and tens of little springs. You would scatter everywhere, your bits rolling to and fro, likely never to all be gathered in the same place again. You would cease to exist as you are now, and whatever comes of your disparate parts would be wholly new, not a reconstruction of yourself. Do you understand that?”

The little mechanical spider did not understand that, quite clearly, as it did not immediately rectify its behavior and begin working the way it was so obviously intended to. Inanimate objects were so frustrating. If only he—

“No,” he said aloud, straightening back up and throwing his hands down in front of him. “No, it is precisely that line of thinking that created my eggies, and I cannot handle another group of sentient minions.”

A knock on the door set his hood to flex behind him, and he hissed, spinning rapidly to face it and whatever interloper had dared encroach on his territory. “Who knocks?!” he shouted at the knock, the tip of his tail vibrating almost independently of his own thoughts. “I will destroy you!”

“Oh, please don’t, it’s just me!” Charlie called through the heavy wood. “You’ve been down here for a while, I… thought you might be hungry.”

Instantly abashed, Pentious felt himself deflate. His first instinct was to apologize, and his second was to shout a bit more, but in the two months since he had arrived at the Hotel and the precise way Charlie had been so kind to him… “Of… of course. My apologies, Miss Charlie.” He almost told her to enter, then realized she was likely carrying something, so instead quickly slithered over to the door and pulled it open himself.

It was a good thing, too, because Charlie was carrying an entire tray that she held up with her usual bright smile; it had sandwiches, a plate of chopped fruit, and an entire tea set that was likely older than Pentious himself. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice full of that aching sincerity Pentious was certain she had no idea was there. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Pentious said, aware he was repeating himself but unable to do anything about that now as he moved back and held one arm out in invitation. Charlie swept past him, her eyes immediately moving over every inch of the basement room he had commandeered for a laboratory shortly after the nastiness with the Vees had been sorted. “You can just… there, on the table,” Pentious added, pointing to the workbench that held his precisely placed tools across the back and the little, immobile mechanical spider.

“Oh! Is this what you’ve been working on?” Charlie asked as she set the tray down carefully, her eyes on the infuriatingly uncooperative device.

“To say I have been working on it suggests it is working,” Pentious said, looking at it distastefully. “As it is, the thing is as unruly and insubordinate as something without sentient thought can be.”

Oddly, Charlie giggled. “I see. Mmm…” She tilted her head, looking up at Pentious. “What’s it supposed to do?”

“It is supposed to gather information through a series of minute sensors placed strategically about its form as it moves through locations unnoticed,” Pentious said. “As it is, however, all it does is…” A demonstration would be better than an explanation, he supposed, so he reached out and tapped the device in the center of its body.

Instantly, the thing whirred to life, wiggling a little as its sensors activated and began taking in the surroundings. It swiveled one way, then the other, before it seemed to take notice of the tray. It began marching resolutely towards it, and when Charlie made a move as though to remove any obstacles, Pentious held out his hand to still her. The mechanism, of course, took note of none of this. Instead, it continued its focused and dedicated trek across the table, crawling onto the tray and beginning to trudge across it. It missed the teapot and the sandwiches by virtue of them simply not being immediately in its path, but it stomped straight through the sliced fruit and emerged on the other side of the plate with a cube of melon stuck on one of its spindly little legs. As though unencumbered, it marched onwards, off the tray and then straight off the table where it landed on the rug that Pentious had moved beneath the workbench for this very reason. It laid there on its back, legs waving silently through the air as though its journey had not completed, and Pentious’s phone beeped at him.

He pulled up the app he had created, showing Charlie the results. “According to our dear little friend, it has successfully navigated through a sandstorm, detected several frogs, and is currently moving directly up a wall that appears to be made of honeycomb.”

“Oh dear,” Charlie said, looking at the device again. “So… the sensors aren’t working?” she guessed.

“Not to put too fine a point on it.” Pentious leaned down and picked up the little spider, deactivating it and relieving it of its position as makeshift fruit kabob. “They were created in the Lust Ring. I have used similar devices from there before, but I’ve never had them malfunction this badly. Theoretically, I could simply begin again with more, but that will neither tell me what the problem is, nor how to fix it.”

“Hmm…” Charlie tapped her chin. “…normally I’d ask Uncle Ozzie for his advice, but he’s been pretty tied up with his latest, uh, projects.” It took a moment for it to register that, by the casual moniker ‘Uncle Ozzie’, she was referring to Lord Asmodeus himself. “So I dunno if… …oh!” She clapped her hands together so suddenly that Pentious startled, his hood flexing again. “Sorry! But I had a thought! What kind of tech do the sensors use? It’s a form of magitech, right?”

Pentious frowned at her, folding his arms. “Yes,” he said, unable to help a mildly begrudging note from slipping into his voice. As a man of science in life, he had always struggled with the idea of the preternatural, and even after having been dead for more than a century he still disliked to give any credit to magic. “Construct transmutation, specifically. Why?”

“Well… I know somewhere that you could definitely go to get more information on that,” Charlie said. “There’s an overlord in the city who collects books, all kinds of them. He’s been doing it for as long as he’s been in Hell. I’m sure he would be willing to lend you something that would help with your project, and he loves meeting creative people.”

Pentious raised one eyebrow at her, and he could practically hear his hat doing the same. “You are already well aware that I do not exactly… get on with the overlords of this city.”

Charlie smiled, waving her hands. “Oh, no no, he’s nothing like the Vees, and he isn’t… well, he does like scaring people, but he’s not that much like Alastor, either.”

“…I see.” Pentious sighed. “Oh, very well, if you insist. Who is this friend of yours, exactly?”

“His name is Zestial. Have you heard of him?”

Initially, Pentious barely registered her question, as the name had instantly sent a shock of horror across his flesh. “What— have I heard of him?! Of course I’ve heard of him! He was the oldest functioning overlord in all of Pentagram City all the way back when I died! Are you— you want me to just go to Zestial and ask him for a book?!”

Charlie, oddly, didn’t seem to realize what a ludicrous idea she had just proposed. “Well… yes,” she said, tilting her head. “Why not? He has so many, and he always told me that books were meant to be read. You aren’t…” She frowned a little. “You aren’t scared, are you, Pen?”

“Of course not!!” Pentious’s declaration came out as something significantly closer to a screech, and he cleared his throat, straightening his jacket before he continued. “Of course I’m not afraid. That would be ludicrous. It is— it’s simply— I’m not afraid,” Pentious repeated, because he didn’t know what it ‘simply’ was.

Charlie smiled at him. “Oh, good, I’m glad! I’ll let him know you’re coming so he’ll be home and expecting you. Oh, but you should eat first!”

She seemed blissfully unaware of anything that had just transpired as she waved, letting herself out of the laboratory. Pentious waved back on something of a reflex, watching her leave, before he glared at the construct in his hand. “This is all your fault.”

•••

How does one speak to the oldest overlord in Hell?

Pentious had, of course, spoken with overlords before. Primarily, he had only interacted with Vox (which he wasn’t eager to repeat again) and Alastor (who he was still definitely going to absolutely demolish one of these days, redemption be damned), but they were… well, they were media personalities, and despite the fact that Pentious had no experience with “celebrities” of their sort, he knew well enough that they were handled far differently than what one normally thought of as a higher social class.

Pentious himself wasn’t unfamiliar with such things; in life, he had lived in London as a doctor, and while it was true that in those days such a profession wasn’t precisely glamorous or even considered generally commendable, he did often interact with the lower rungs of nobility both through his practice and by way of the arguments masquerading as meetings of the Board of Governors for the hospital at which he conducted his residency. This would be simple if he could think of this meeting as nothing more than that: a proposal to the Board of Governors to conduct new research, except that in this case, the Board of Governors was Hell’s oldest overlord and the new research proposal was a request to borrow arcane knowledge.

Yes. It is exactly the same. What could Charlie possibly thinking? Perhaps she’s trying to orchestrate my destruction before I can betray the hotel.

Pentious dismissed the thought before it even had a chance to take root. The Princess of Hell was absolutely riddled with problems, but deceit was not among her myriad flaws and even he couldn’t pretend she would purposefully do something so underhanded. That being said, he wasn’t positive she had the same scope of understanding as… well, as everyone else. After all, the Devil himself was her father, and Pentious had to imagine that would skew one’s perspective a bit. The fact remained that Charlie seemed to hold no true fear for the horrors that surrounded her, and as such, her incessant declarations of ‘everything will be fine’ were incredibly difficult to take to heart.

Then again, if the Christians were right after all, she was the Antichrist. Pentious supposed he would have been more disturbed if she was afraid of the denizens of Hell.

The address Charlie had given him was in a somewhat remote section of Pentagram City, the area rich with ancient power that seemed to lie somewhat dormant in the years since its construction. Pentious followed his instructions to a house, one that he could only call… odd. It was grand, certainly, with an impressive facade of marble and dark slate that stood above the other buildings in the area as any good manor should, nestled in an overgrown garden landscape that sat past a set of old wrought-iron gates that complained noisily as Pentious pushed through them. Like many places in Pentagram City, there were eyes on the very structures of carved stone that dotted the unkempt lawn of the bizarre house, and it was strange simply because it didn’t appear to belong to any one particular time. Architecture was something of a special interest of his, and Pentious saw influences from years after his own time all the way back to antiquity, as though the house itself was as ancient as the city and had simply amassed new pieces and rooms as it grew over time.

It felt… alive, somehow, even more than the Hazbin Hotel did when wandering the hallways late at night.

The doors stood tall and black as pitch as Pentious approached, the knocker a little higher than his own head and the archway at the top of the doors further than he would be able to reach were he to uncoil his body and somehow stand upon the very tip of his tail. Steeling himself and trusting that Charlie had, in fact, contacted the overlord beforehand, Pentious raised one hand, gripped the brass ring, and knocked sharply.

Hardly a second passed after the three knocks and Pentious releasing the knocker; there was a click somewhere deep within the wood, followed by a low and aching creak as the door slowly swung itself open. Pentious hardly expected to see Zestial himself, but assumed he must have staff of a sort, wondering briefly at their attentiveness before he realized there was no one there. It was as though the door had opened itself, the red light of Pride’s sky pouring in through the door to cast its glow on the dark wood flooring that stretched into shadow before him.

Pentious hesitated, wondering if he should knock again in case this was some kind of mistake, but he was certain that click had been the releasing of a lock. He frowned, but slowly crossed the threshold, glancing around for any movement at all. “Hello?” he called to no one, his voice echoing in a room that must have been cavernous (in a lack of furnishing, if not in size) but that was too dark to truly judge. Pentious entered further, willing his eyes to adjust to better allow him to see, when the door creaked behind him and then closed itself.

The entrance hall was thrown into absolute darkness for only a moment. Some distance before him, wall sconces gently began flickering to life, their flames a rich emerald that did little to illuminate and more to simply indicate a path. Pentious knew an invitation when he saw one, at least, and began to follow the sconces as they lit one by one, leading him deeper into the manor.

At some point, he realized he must have passed through a doorway, as the floor beneath him turned from polished wood to a plush rug that slowed him briefly. No further sconces directed him forward, and so he came to a stop, peering around once more. Though his eyes had begun to adjust to the dark, the simple fact of the matter was that there wasn’t any real light to see by, leaving most of his surroundings to be shadow on shadow.

Charlie did mention he enjoys frightening people.

The moment that thought passed his mind, Pentious heard a sound behind him, like the gentle rustle of fabric against itself. Tensing, he slowly turned, looking up to see four narrow eyes and a sharp, smiling mouth, all of them glowing a brilliant green. Pentious felt his heart l jump into his throat immediately, and he moved backwards in a motion that would have been a stumble if he still had his legs and still sent him crashing back onto the rug.

“So,” a deep, resonant voice asked, with little concern for his alarm, “thou art the one of whom Charlotte spoke, is that correct?”

Pentious opened his mouth, his lips working uselessly for a moment before he rediscovered his voice. “Yes,” he said, astounded that his words came out steady. “My name is Sir Pentious. I’m in need of information, and she… tells me you have a collection of books.”

Above him, Zestial chuckled, and Pentious wasn’t sure what the precise source of his amusement was. “Ah, knowledge. Quite a worthy pursuit, indeed. Tell me, Sir Pentious, dost thou know upon whose floor thou currently curl? Passage into these halls, which lieth ‘twixt Pride’s false light and the true tenebrae of the Underworld, is rarely taken through freedom of will.”

Pentious could see why; coming into this place felt like walking into death again, and he couldn’t imagine many people choosing to do that themselves. “I know I’m in your home, Lord Zestial,” he said. “I apologize if my intrusion was somewhat presumptuous, but when your door unlocked for me, I thought that it unlocking was an invitation.”

Zestial’s eyes narrowed in what seemed to be further amusement. “Thy skill in perception seems quite astute,” he said. Pentious couldn’t tell if it was sarcasm or not. “It hath been long indeed that my abode housed what one could call… a guest. Such a moment could almost be called auspicious.”

Almost as soon as he completed his sentence, light flared to life around them. Pentious had only a moment to see that Zestial was unaffected by the sudden brightness before he was forced to cringe away, shielding his eyes with one arm as they were assaulted. He didn’t permit himself long, however, before he was forcing his eyes open and blinking away the pain to take in his surroundings.

The light, it seemed, came only from a fireplace on the longest wall that was now crackling merrily with a fire that was as close to ‘normal’ as Hell ever saw. The room seemed to be some sort of private study, a few chairs near the hearth and a desk set to the side with bookshelves built into the walls both across from and either side of the fireplace. Above him, Zestial stood, his face still unblinking and focused in that enigmatic smile. Pentious could see why those who had seen him likened him to a spider, though Pentious would never have compared him to Angel Dust; where his fellow resident was a jumping spider, Zestial was a black widow, black and spindly and undeniably dangerous.

Pentious righted himself, straightening his jacket and tamping down any feelings of lingering embarrassment. After all, he knew there were sinners who would rather set themselves on fire than stand in Zestial’s presence, and for that, he thought he was doing quite well in only falling over. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Zestial,” he said. “What do you ask in return?”

“In return?” Zestial echoed curiously, tilting his head at a dramatic angle; Pentious knew nothing about him, but even so, he thought the overlord seemed absolutely delighted by every moment of this encounter thus far. “Thou doubtless refer to the use of my library?”

“Naturally,” Pentious said. “I had no intention of taking advantage of your hospitality while providing no recompense.”

“Such courtesy. A rarity indeed within this pit of despair,” Zestial observed, leaning down a little and putting himself more at eye level with Pentious. He felt like the overlord was studying him, much the way he himself used to study creatures kept beneath glass domes. “Tis long since fate hath granted me any opportunity to expand my knowledge of what became of life beyond my own years. If thou wishest an offer of reciprocity, perhaps thou wouldst willingly part with the tale of thy demise?”

Pentious’s eyebrows shot up. “You… want to hear how I died?”

“Tis a natural curiosity, is it not?” Zestial asked, as though people discussed their deaths every day. The truth of the matter was, however, that very few people (if any) ever discussed the gruesome details of their own passing, to the point that many in Pentagram City considered the question quite the social taboo. And no one—not even anyone in the hotel—had ever asked Pentious about his death… nor, in fact, about his life. Unaware of Pentious’s thoughts, Zestial continued, “Death and its many strange and malleable forms hath greatly enchanted my mind since time so long past, memory no longer serves to recollect it. If it pleases thee, I wouldst grant thee leave to peruse any text thou desire, simply to hear the beauty of thy passing as perceived by thine own eyes.”

Pentious couldn’t help smiling at that, a small laugh escaping him; this was too ridiculous to be real. “I have no reservations, but I would imagine you would have heard many more interesting tales of death than what I could offer you.”

Zestial chuckled in response. “Tis of little matter. In truth, many show great reluctance to engage with me in any sort of friendly conversation; few such stories have been presented to me, even in so long a time.”

“…alright, then,” Pentious said.

“Splendid.” Zestial gestured to his bookshelves. “My library is at thy disposal.” As Pentious went to the shelves and began examining the spines, Zestial continued, “How long hath Hell’s hand gripped thy soul?”

“Almost one hundred and forty years now,” Pentious said, removing a promising looking book from a shelf and flipping to the index. “I was born in London, and in London, I died. I suppose I should ask… do you know of London?”

“Twas no such place in my admittedly short years amongst the living,” Zestial said. “But the name does bear familiarity to me. What sort of town was London, when thou didst walk beneath warm and open skies?”

“Terrible,” Pentious said without hesitation. “It was overcrowded, filthy, full of disease… the bubonic plague had reached England by then, though fortunately, it was not what killed me.” This book is not helpful, he thought, putting it back and searching for another.

“Ah, yes, that malady is quite well known to me,” Zestial said, with a note in his voice almost like fondness. “Thou didst not fall prey to it?”

“No,” Pentious said. “I have always had a great interest in engineering, but I was a physician by trade, and as such, I knew quite well how to avoid the disease… at least, as well as the science of the time permitted. Unfortunately, I met my end at the hands of Scotland Yard. The law enforcement,” he added, by way of explanation. He could see Zestial nod out of the corner of his eye. “But had they not killed me, I have little doubt the mercury poisoning would have.”

Pentious had always been something of an expert at multi-tasking (as much as a human mind was capable, in any case), and answering questions was one of his favorite pastimes, which meant the overlord’s surprisingly inquisitive nature did nothing to detract from his search for information. Each answer Pentious gave seemed to give rise to three more questions in Zestial’s mind, and Pentious found himself explaining everything from the effects of mercury poisoning to the problematic condition of the Thames to what, precisely, it was that he did as a physician as he looked through each book that caught his eye.

When he finally located what he was searching for, Zestial graciously allowed him to take the book with him, simply requesting he return it in person. Pentious thanked him, and as he left, the fact that he had apparently been in that house long enough that the sun had set entirely surprised him.

It wasn’t until he returned to the hotel that he registered that Zestial had never once asked him what, exactly, it was he wanted the book for.

•••

“Our kinship hath grown immeasurably in the time since our first meeting, wouldst thou not agree?”

“I would.” Carmilla wasn’t looking at Zestial, her eyes on the long metal table in her private workshop as she pieced together what seemed to be some sort of new firearm, likely a prototype for Carmine Industries to begin distributing before the coming extermination. “Why do you ask?”

“I seek insight, preferably that of an objective mind, and experience speaks true that thy perception hath long been unencumbered by… sentimentality,” Zestial said, standing near the large windows looking out over Pentagram City. He wasn’t truly looking at the landscape, however, his gaze instead watching the form of his old friend as she continued her work with a passive expression.

“Why are you fishing?” Carmilla asked.

Zestial almost frowned, turning his head just slightly. “What is thy meaning?”

“You’re trying to gauge my mood,” Carmilla said, lifting the firearm and raising it to check the sights before lowering it to the table again and picking up another delicate tool. “This kind of indirectness isn’t like you, Zestial. I expect it from Alastor or Vox, but you are usually much more forthright.”

Zestial didn’t answer her for a long moment, and she didn’t press. “I am… uncertain as to how I might phrase my query,” he admitted.

“Did something happen?”

“Recently, I hath found myself with… a regular visitation.”

That, at least, made Carmilla turn just slightly on her stool. “None of the other overlords, I take it?” Zestial shook his head. “…Zestial, are you trying to tell me that you made a friend?”

“Would that I were so confident in such a term.” Zestial moved away from the window, slowly gliding to the other side of the workshop. “Doth the name Sir Pentious bear any significance for thee?”

“I’ve heard of him,” Carmilla said, her tone guarded in a way that suggested either wariness or a simple desire to keep her thoughts from being known. “A sinner with aspirations towards becoming an overlord but without the drive to possess the souls needed to achieve such a position. He used to engage with turf wars with Alastor not infrequently, as well as Vox and Valentino before VoxTek was founded. Not, of course, that the three of them will acknowledge his existence. …why?”

“I confess that I have found his company quite fascinating, as of late.”

Carmilla’s voice became colored by the frown that he could not see but was positive she wore. “Are you telling me that Sir Pentious has been… what, coming to your home? Whatever for?”

“At the start, ‘twas for nothing but access to my library, on recommendation of the Princess Charlotte. He proved receptive to intellectual curiosity, however, and I confess that I may have somewhat interrogated the boy before releasing him back into the dark night. He returned with a book I lent him, and at my behest, he remained for several hours before once again taking leave. Tis many times we have conversed, these past three fortnights, and I find I have been somewhat preoccupied with thoughts of our conversations.”

Carmilla was staring at him with an unreadable expression, and for the death of him, Zestial could not begin to imagine what she was thinking. Finally, after a false start, she said, “Are you telling me that—… no,” she murmured, clearly to herself, before continuing, “What, exactly, is it that you’re wanting an objective assessment of?”

“It hath been long indeed since fate hath granted me the gift of a new… conversational partner,” Zestial said; the words did not feel adequate, but he could come up with nothing more fitting. “But by my troth, never hath any such encounter brought me such vexation whilst always carrying with it an air of such delight I cannot begrudge him the arguments.”

Carmilla fully turned to face him. “…he frustrates you, and he argues with you, and he��s still living?”

“Indeed. Of course, Sir Pentious seems able to quarrel with a stone over the matter of its own weight; I have little doubt what hesitation he possessed in challenging me vanished the moment he perceived an error.”

For several moments, Carmilla said nothing, and Zestial was hardly surprised. Even figures like Alastor minded their tongue in his presence, at least as far as those like Alastor were able; back in the days when the King of Hell was more active, Lucifer himself had seemed hesitant to risk Zestial’s anger. And while Sir Pentious had indeed been quite terrified at first, intellectual curiosity had melted that fear and it seemed to have never resolidified.

When Carmilla seemed to remember where she had left her speech, she said, “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were infatuated with him.”

“Infatuated?” Zestial echoed; the word tasted foreign on his tongue, but not unwelcome. “What a strange thought. Memory fails in pursuit of the last time I could ever describe an interest so. …interesting.”

Carmilla frowned at him. “Interesting?” she repeated, the word far more flat in her mouth than in his own.

Zestial chuckled at her doubt. “Sinners we may be, but sinners are human souls, are we not? And the human soul craves connection. …I think I shall invite him to return for tea. Thou hast my gratitude, my friend.”

“Zestial, hold on…!” Carmilla was getting to her feet, but Zestial wasn’t listening, melting down into the shadows of the floor and vanishing into the night, intent on returning to his home to pen the perfect invitation.

•••

Carmilla stared at the place on the floor where Zestial had just been standing, her mind simultaneously feeling as though it were spinning wildly and frozen still.

Zestial… has a crush on someone?

It was unthinkable. …almost, in any case. It was true that he never sneered at the idea of romance, and always listened almost indulgently as Rosie would lay out every messy detail of the romantic follies of Cannibal Town before meetings. He was the first who… identified… the precise nature of Vox’s relationship with Valentino, as well as the first who posited the idea that perhaps Alastor simply held no interest in the entire affair. And when Lilith and Lucifer finally parted ways, he was so unsurprised, he had to have been expecting it.

…come to think of it, he seemed to speculate on the love lives of other sinners quite a lot.

Carmilla turned back to her table, staring at the half-completed gun that expectantly gleamed in the light, waiting for her to finish it.

And she would. But first, she really needed a drink.

•••

[docholligay]

I didn't watch this show for a long time because I was so annoyed that they made Louis Black, and I also couldn't say that was why i refused to watch it, because I come off, saying that, like a fucking weirdo.

I am sure some of you in the audience are saying to yourselves, "Yeah Doc, it does kind of surprise me that you were apparently clamoring for Louis to be white. It seems more or less unlike you." Let me explain. Read to the end.

So, Interview With the Vampire is Anne Rice working through some shit, and it's also the only book of hers I would actually maybe argue is good. At the very least, I will argue that she is doing things within that novel, that she never does in any of her others, at least nothing I've ever read as a committed Vampire Chronicles reader.

Louis is her stand-in. Louis is Anne. And because Anne is the least hinged writer on the planet, Louis cannot do anything wrong, fucking ever. Nothing is ever Louis' fault, Louis' life is a tragedy, everyone feel bad for Louis Du Fucking Pointe Du Lac.

Obviously, I had no particular love lost for Louis. BUT, because she was a southerner writing in the 70s, of course Louis' tragic story is that he was a plantation owner, and she does a couple interesting things with that in the novel. You may recognize this as something that a modern audience will not accept. Instant villain. You could write damn near anything you wanted about Louis and he would still be a villain, as a slaveowner.

When I saw that they were going to change it so he was not a slaveowner, and not only that, he was Black, for me it was just another link in the chain of Rice's construction of Saint Louis Whomst We Must Never Accuse. Easily my least favorite part of the books, and she does put the screws to him a TINY bit in later books, but not really in a serious way, and she doesn't really want you interrogating the narrative that way either.

I didn't watch the show. I did not need more Blameless Louis in my life.

Fast forward to season two. Friend of mine watches the show, and given that we have a close enough relationship that I knew she would take the statement in good faith, I told her why I couldn't watch it.

"You should try it, I think you'd be pleasantly surprised" She said.

I WAS SO DELIGHTED TO BE PROVEN INCORRECT. IT DOES A VERY GOOD JOB.

Don't get me wrong, i think there is some very boring fandom stuff about "Who is the villain here" and if I were to say what my greatest frustration with the recent popularity of this is, it would easily be that there are a bunch of people who have never read the books, and so they don't realize that everyone in these books is terrible. Every time you think you've met the most fucked up, worst one, another, shittier one comes out of the shadows like the world's most fucked up Russian doll.

But the SHOW itself, very much lets you take the position that Louis sucks, actually, which ironically makes me more likely to give him some rope. If I am allowed to think he is annoying, and a hypocrite, I am more likely to enjoy him for the fun things about him, as well and even feel for him. I would have delved a little deeper into his being an asshole, and very selfish in a lot of ways, but I don't think the show does a poor job, I think I just have my preferences.

Love being proven wrong about something!

[womaninwinter]

Thank you for tagging me @paranorahjones I am terminally online today and delighted to be playing tag games :)

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction? Depends on how you define fic I guess. When I was very little, I would "tell myself stories" (literally I would just sit on the floor in my room and pronounce the story aloud) which were essentially self-insert fics about my favourite characters. I guess expansion has always been my automatic response to a story I like. My older sister was active in fandoms first, so I learned about fic from her, and when I ended up in a teeny tiny fandom with practically no content in my teens, writing fic was a very natural next step.

2. How many fandoms have you written in? *counts on my fingers* well, there was [REDACTED], [REDACTED], BTVS, Designated Survivor, and now L&Co. So actually not that many. When I fixate about something, I fixate long and hard and I don't have room for other obsessions.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

As above, really depends on how you define fic and how you define writing lol. If you're being exacting, uhhh about 15 years or so, but with long gaps in there. Years of actual productivity, probably more like 3 or 4.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction? Very definitely read lol, I'm a slow writer and a fast reader. Trying to shift the balance however.

5. What is one way you've improved as a writer? I think my ability to plan and execute a large-scale project is increasing, as is my ability to actually dramatise a setting properly.

6. What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? Abdominal trauma recovery (for Gutted, my specialest little guy fic)

7. What's your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love a comment from someone who Gets what I was going for. It doesn't have to be a long one, just something that shows me that yes, I communicated successfully here! (or just when people tell me unhinged things like "I'm chewing on this nomnomnomnom". I love that too)

8. What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Easily the Catholic Lockwood stuff LOL.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write? It's not quite a story type, but I hate when you're trying to bring a character to the point of a certain realisation or decision and you have to describe their thought process and it's soooo hard to do cleanly and really I should have made this damn thing a conversation but it's TOO LATE NOW.

10. What is the easiest type? A conversation lol. Again, now specific type of story, but I love writing dialogue.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? Usually at my desk, on my computer. G Docs is my medium of choice - accessible anywhere, easily shared, easy to retrieve if you go somewhat crazy and delete everything...

12. What is something that you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

The big "Lockwood reverts to his faith and Lucy converts" fic. Will I ever do it?? Who knows. I like thinking about it though.

13. What made you choose your username?

This is a great question, and the answer is I have NO clue. I didn't want it to be something that was easily identified as me (for anyone who knows me IRL, womaninwinter is quite a giveaway lol). I picked a phrase that came to mind and sounded moderately cool, and for some reason, the phrase was "Savoirfaire". (some unconscious snobbery about my writing abilities going on?? Perhaps!)

tagging: @itripandfallalot, @polithicc, @menina89, @lilaccatholic and @insidethekaleidoscope (I forget who has and hasn't done this already)

[spaceorphan18]

14 years since Never Been Kissed aired. Did you watch it live? Where were you? Did you think it would be the start of something major - one of your favorite ever ships?

Ohh, interesting question!

It's kind of funny to try to remember details of something that did happen nearly fifteen years ago. the tl:dr version of how I started watching Glee was that I wasn't in a great place in Mar of 2010, and a friend of mine had given me the DVD of Glee S1 Part 1 (because that's a thing that happened back then.

And I watched it and I was, meh, it was fine. I mean, DSB gave me literal chills. But I didn't really connect with any of the characters (and omg did I find Terri and Ken annoying). And it's funny, Kurt I had a hard time with -- not at all because of the gay thing, but because his crush on Finn hit a little too close to home and I was still a little sensitive about how I was during high school.

Anyway, the same friend said we should start watching the show together - so I started going over to watch it with her. We watched the rest of Season 1 together. And maybe the first half of Season 2? I definitely watched the first four-ish episodes with her. I think (?) I must have watched NBK with her.

The ONLY thing I remember from my first time watching was the forced kiss between Kurt and Karofsky. It was THAT shocking. Like, WHOA what is happening???

The only real thing I remember about Blaine was that my friend had told me that Kurt was supposed to be getting a boyfriend, and we all wondered if it was going to be Sam (because Duets did give that tiny-ish set-up). And when Blaine showed up, it was one of those - oh, is it this dude? type things.

I did not like Season 2 when it was first airing, Nonny. I'll be honest with you about it. The thing I've since learned about RM and his shows, he often fills them with a lot of unlikable characters who are often ridiculously dramatic. And it just wasn't my thing. But also remember, the show focused hard on Rachel, Finn, Quinn, Puck, Sue, and Will (and Emma). Like -- not my favorite characters. At all.

It's one reason I appreciate the later seasons, because characters I like got more focus, and it just became super weird and super queer and that's just more to my taste.

But anyway -- I kind of only watched sporadically after the first few weeks. I caught Silly Love Songs - because I remember thinking after Kurt and Blaine have their When Harry Met Sally convo, oh yeah, they'll get these two together.

I have zero memory of watching Original Song for the first time. Which I just have, because I knew Klaine was together after that point. But I did miss most of the second half of Season 2.

No, I had zero idea I'd love Klaine as hard as I did (do). I can tell you I remember the exact moment I fell in love with Klaine, though. I decided to catch up on Season 3 because I missed the first half (and hilariously - I was actually enjoying Season 3 more than Season 2 at the time, wild right?) and it was The First Time, and it was the auditorium scene, and it was this moment.

And really, just Kurt saying -- I'm just a silly romantic, and Blaine saying it wasn't silly, and just kissing him. And, my god nonny, it made my cold, dead heart come alive. It took my breath away.

And then, I mean, I rewatched the full series again, and really got into the Klaine of it, and got into fandom, and as much as fandom was a headache -- and my god it was a headache -- I think that's why I stayed with Glee for so long? It was something to have fun with and explore and write about and talk to people about and there was the insanity of week to week, and it was wild - I mean really wild, but it's what made the show fun. Because, I mean, I love the show - but it's a mess.

And I'm constantly amazed new people come in for it, because sometimes it feels like there's a -- you had to be there -- to get it, lol.

But, I mean, did I think I'd be here, fifteen years later, still talking about how it impacted me? Not even a little bit. :)

[sgiandubh]

A study in media fabrication: the Metro interview

I was on a late, self-prescribed ☕ break at the office and lo and behold, mindlessly scrolling @bat-cat-reader's page, what do I see? S's last 'interview' to Metro UK. Rarely have I seen such a poorly cobbled fabrication, so I thought I might share a couple of quick thoughts about it.

A word about the newspaper, first. This is not, as you might think, a part of the Swedish-owned and worldwide present Metro conglomerate of free commuter tabloids, that usually end up littering the carriage, by the end of the day. Nope, and I had no idea. Metro UK is owned by DMG Media (The Daily Fail people, in other words) since 1999 and uses a different logo, to avoid being sued on what is, in my opinion a blatant trademark infringement (remember, S was the culprit the EUIPO punished for way less than that!). More interestingly, though, the print and web editions have totally different content, which means that you'd look in vain for the James Bondesque pic while commuting from Wimbledon to London, for example. The relevance of this interview is nearing 0, in my humble opinion: if anything, it just served to check a box of the PR's current media plan and justify the retainers a couple of people cashed in, as a result.

Quotes and references like the one below abound:

Now, if you imagine S talked face to face to Ms. Josie Copson for the sake of this article, you couldn't be more wrong. In fact, I doubt he knows her name or (when questioned) even if he ever gave an interview to Metro.co.uk. In plain English, he didn't "tell" Josie anything: PR probably sent her some formulaic 'answers' by email and let her add some fill-in material, then revised and greenlit the whole for release.

How do I know it? Easy: no photos. No specifics (random example: 'seated at the counter of Soho's BAFTA Bar, in London, SRH' this and that). And the almost scrupulous rehashing of the talking points we have already seen (and it did break my heart to see so many upset people for literally nothing, in here). Give or take some last minute inserts, some of which are quite dubious, to he honest.

This one, for example:

How odd. A Zoom call apparently happened, of which - again- we have no evidence at all. It's not impossible, but it is improbable. What is interesting, though, is the 'related' discreet surfing suggestion at the end of the article, which sheds new light on that Gen Z. joke - which yes, now sorta makes sense:

Why? For more (monetized) clicks and traffic. Remember the tiny detail that Metro's business model is based on a free offer. So, they have to make it viable somehow: in print, it's the ads. Online, it's all about the ads and the clicks.

The only interesting thing I could take out of this would be a very peculiar choice of words:

Being spied on... By all means, please clarify and thank you. I can think of one or two people in this fandom, regularly and almost obsessively dueling for the position of best informed in town. Using very different methods, to be sure, but still qualifying for this spying position, in my book. Both of them completely lack perspective and offer very little context, but that is of no particular import, when it's all about feeding your captive audience with nonsense.

If these two people wanted to come clean, they'd only need to write two very simple phrases:

This is a gossip blog exclusively focused on SRH.

and

This is a social media monitoring blog exclusively focused on SRH.

Not gonna happen anytime soon. Cue in the mystique of 'sources' and repeatedly absurd 'lucky strikes'. It certainly makes things way sexier than they really are. Because when you know things, you don't brag about it. Easy as 1, 2, 3.

Oh, and mark me: it's always been about SRH. No wonder the boundaries feel 'blurred'.

[riverdrowning]

Here’s part 1 to our little fanfic / oneshot moment!! Excuse the mediocre writing but I just felt the need to help feed the tiny Sessanator community 😌 I think I’m gonna try and do both versions of it but this is the jumping off point for both.

Dominic had been away filming a new movie for 3 months in California. You were proud of him but god, did you miss him. You hadn’t been able to take time off of work to go and visit or stay in Cali with him during filming so you were forced to stay 2,800 miles away from the love of your life. You had been together for almost a year so you knew the lack of seeing him would cause a strain on the relationship that you had been worried about, some nights staying up and pacing your shared apartment (surely bothering your downstairs neighbors) wondering if he was even thinking of you while out in California with his new friends and co-workers. You weren’t famous, but like him you were in the media industry, just more behind the scenes than on the silver screen and red carpets. You worried he may have found someone more famous and was with them while he was away. Of course you’d heard the Hollywood horror stories and drama, headlines plastered with words along the lines of “Super famous man exposed for cheating on normal partner with ultra gorgeous famous successful actress - model - climate change activist extraordinaire while away filming! My goodness! The scandal!” and all of it got to your head. Not to mention the time difference from east coast to west wasn’t helping your busy schedules line up so your communication mostly consisted of late night phone calls and Facetimes where either one of you were absolutely exhausted and incoherent, or sporadic texts while you were on break at work and Dom was in between scenes. But finally the day had come where filming had just finally wrapped last Wednesday so he was ready to tie up the loose ends on set and come home to you. You knew that the first 2 days of him being home would be full of jet lag and making up for lost sleep, but you were ready with your weekend off, calendar cleared, plenty of blankets, water, pillows, and your renewed Netflix subscription. Friends of his knew that he would be tired and wasn’t going to want an immediate welcome home party, so a few friends sent congrats presents to the apartment ahead of time for when he got home and then would treat him to a small get together when he was feeling more like himself after much needed rest. Everything was set up in the apartment so he could immediately crash once he got home to you, now it was just time to go pick him up from the airport.

To Be Continued…

-xoxo 🎬

muahahahahahha 😈

sessa nation is eating good tonight. we are feasting even. the three members of this fandom are jumping for joy as the 5th fic about dominic sessa ever is dropped.

today is declared a national holiday.

sending you 50 billion kisses 🎬 <333

[writerscafehub]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

@eulalielatibule

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Hmm I'd say I'm like, 2.8? I'm pretty basic and don't do much editing but my stories are good and I'm proud of them!

2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

I think I excel at fluffy family fics. I just love writing good dads being sweet with their kids, especially daughters. Another thing that makes me stand out is how I write autistic!reader. I haven't seen anyone else write that for the Chris Evans fandom (not including Steve) so I'm proud to be the one to do it.

3. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Everyone in the server is so talented and they all inspire me in different ways. @a-lumos-in-the-nox puts out story after story with her OC and Ron Weasly and I just love that! Especially as someone who wants to start writing more OCs. @flordeamatista’s writing is so poetic and beautiful and I admire it so much

4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

I'm pretty proud of my Suburban Dad Sunday verse. It's done so well but it's also just very fun for me to write and it's letting me explore characters that I hadn't written for previously.

5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?

Jake Jensen is definitely the easiest. Idk he's just so sweet and fun and the vibes are immaculate with him! The most difficult would probably be any dark character

6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

I write a lot about Jake and fluff/hurt and comfort.

7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

I have a Lloyd Hansen fic with a living music box ballerina. It'll be a giant/tiny fic which I know isn't super popular but I find it so comforting and I'm excited to share it!

8. First fandom you ever wrote for?

I believe it was Phantom of the Opera 🙈😂

9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

I can't think of any tropes, but I do love reading daddy kink fics lmao

10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

I mean never say never, but I do not like enemies to lovers. Idk why, I just can't get behind it. I also will likely never write a mob au.

11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

Probably my most recent one with Jake Jensen x Reader x Ari Levinson. H-O-T-T-O-G-O was my first time writing a throuple and it was interesting!

12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

I love writing Lloyd Hansen and his Reader for SDS. He's just so funny and petty and it's fun to see his shenanigans!

13. Do you listen to anything while you write?

No, I get too distracted. I need it to be quiet while I write. I do have playlists to help me get into the right headspace or to help with muse.

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

One shots all the way

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

All the time! Although I feel like most of my fics are little side quests to one big story/universe. I want to do more with The Purrfect Pair- Kitten is so cute and there's lots of potential for mischief with her and Wanda.

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Soooo many things. I want to write a smutty series but smut is just so hard for me to write for some reason. I admire those who write it so effortlessly!

17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

There are many comments that I hold near and dear to my heart. Recently I got a comment from @thezombieprositute who said my ability to turn simple prompts into heart warming stories was a testament to my skills and it really made my day.

18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

A long time ago I wrote a Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers Halloween fic. It was on my old account so it isn't around anymore, though I might repost it here. It was definitely a challenge as it was more involved and took a lot of world building. It turned out okay, but maybe I'll revisit it and do some editing!

19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

Fluff, all the time.

20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

Do I?? I have so many. Thank you for the time to infodump about some of my favorites lmao

I have Eloise Montgomery who is a sexretary for Pete Brenner. Her face claim is Sydney Sweeney!

There's also Charles Randolph who is similar to Ransom in that he's a bratty rich boy who I pair with Ari Levinson. His face claim is Logan Lerman.

I have soooo many but they are my favorites!

21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

Oh gosh, that's hard. Probably my The Purrfect Pair au. I want to live in a cottage with Wanda Maximoff more than anything!

22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I can't think of anything in particular. It just takes me a while to write because of burn out and stuff but I love it and I love sharing it with everyone 🩷

23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

Oof this is hard for some reason but I do like this from Pine-ing For You

One time when you both were drunkenly singing All I Want for Christmas is You, he pulled you over to the plant hanging from the ceiling and kissed you straight on the mouth. It was a chaste, puckered lips type of kiss and yet it still made your heart flutter from excitement. You both carried on as if nothing happened, never brought it up when you were sober. You eventually decided the incident was merely drunken shenanigans and nothing more, although a part of you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours again.

24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I'm excited for all that I have planned this year and I hope I can venture into some new territory with my fic writing. I appreciate everyone's support, you all mean the world to me! 🙏🏼 

[iapetusneume]

Something I Occasionally Need To Remind Myself Of

So you just read a fic that's knocked your socks off. It's beautiful, it's incredible. It hits everything you want. Characterization is on point.

In the breathless aftermath, after having left kudos and a comment, something insidious starts to creep in. A tiny voice saying "How could I ever compare?" Sometimes it's even followed by "why should I keep trying?"

And I'm here to tell you:

STOP IT

Fan fiction is not a race, it is not a competition. Fandom isn't trying to find "the best fic" and then say "ok y'all let's pack it up and move on out! No more fic is needed because we have The One!"

Like, maybe some people will say "that's it for tonight, I'm going to leave on a high note," but it doesn't mean they won't come back to fan fic again.

And so what if the story you read is better writing than yours? Someone is always going to be better. The question is, did you enjoy what you wrote?

Also, you're a terrible judge of your own writing. You are seeing their final draft, and you've seen the entire process of your own story.

Also also, that writer who wrote The Amazing Fic that set this off? They'd be horrified if they found out their story made you stop writing. What would you think if someone told you that they struggle writing in comparison to you?

That isn't what fan fiction is about.

So take a deep breath. Maybe you need sleep. Maybe you need a snack. Maybe you should take a shower.

Don't stop writing, but it's OK if you need to take a break. Don't let that little voice win.

[daydreamgoddess14]

First Impressions - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Masterlist

Chapter 4 🔥

It's been a long time coming. I'm deeply sorry for abandoning this fic, I got waylaid by life etc and was highly traumatised by the ending of Ted Lasso and it honestly messed with my shipping heart. But I'm here. This fandom was tumbleweed when I first started writing this and it had been about a million years since I'd last written fanfic so I was well out of practice!

So anyway, here I am, here is this... I think/hope River has a few more fans since this was first posted. He certainly deserves them!

I'm excited to add to this, I've missed it :)

*******************

Her hands rested lightly on his thighs, 

“Should probably warn you though,” she hesitated. Her nails scratched the fabric of his jeans in small circles nervously. “It's been… a while. She admitted.

“Better make sure I impress then,” he grinned, her blush visible in the candlelight. With his hands on her hips, he gently pushed her back a step in order to get off the stool. She blew out the last of the candles and led him down the brightly lit hallway. As they reached her room, he knocked the light off with his elbow and closed her door behind them. 

“Did you… did you tidy up in here?” He sniggered.

“I can still kick you out, pal.” 

“Ahh but then you won't find out the big secret.” He teased. She turned her back on him and moved her hair to one side. 

“Zip please?” 

“No come back on that one?” He whispered in her ear, slowly easing the zip down her back. His knuckle followed the same path, featherlight down her spine. She shivered against him, bringing his lips in contact with her temple.

“Nah, I still think I can make you tell me.” Lexie kept her composure, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. His hand slipped inside her dress to rest on the curve of her waist.

“I'd like to see you try.” He murmured, his voice low. 

“Has anyone ever told you,” Lexie began, stepping out of his reach and turning to face him, “that you are too cocky for your own good?” 

“It might have been mentioned, yeah.” He watched as Lexie slipped the short sleeves of her dress down her arms while keeping herself covered. 

“Good. So you already know that sometimes you should just,” she pushed the dress down over her hips and let it drop to the floor, “shut up?” She was certain that the silence would last forever. His expression was unreadable and she felt the light wine buzz disappearing. The urge to fold in on herself and bring her hands up to cover the pretty lingerie she'd intentionally picked out was beginning to outweigh any shred of confidence she still felt. It was but a second. He covered the distance between them in one step and took her hands in his before they could shield her body from him. Up close, the hunger in his eyes was raw and honest. 

“I-, you-... fuck, Lex-” She blushed under his gaze, the soft lamp light bathing her in a peachy glow.

“I didn't mean actually shut up,” she muttered, her feet suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. 

“Can you blame me? I think I'm speechless.” He smirked, lifting her chin so she could look up at him.

“First time for everything.” She quipped, gaining confidence from his reaction, the way his hands toyed with her own to try and show some restraint. 

“God, you're beautiful,” he leaned down to kiss her, pulling her against him. Lexie’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, unwilling to put any space between them. River took over, chuckling at her sighs of frustration with each tiny button. Finally free of his pale blue shirt, he pulled her closer again and felt her smile against him once she was able to run her hands across the smooth skin of his back. “Are you sure about this, Lex? This is what you want?” He asked, Lexie nodded. “Talk to me, babe?”

“Yes, River, I want this.” He rested his forehead against hers, guiding her back towards the bed until her legs met the frame with a bump. With her confirmation, his hands were suddenly everywhere. He marvelled at the softness of her skin, the warmth radiating from her, and the breathy gasps she made as his hands roamed parts of her body which hadn’t been seen or touched by anyone else in so long. She held onto his belt loop to pull him down onto the bed with her, landing with a slight “oof” as his body covered hers. With his thigh between her legs, he could feel the heat from her core and just how responsive her body was to his touch. When the pad of his thumb grazed her nipple over the lace of her bra, her hips rolled up to meet his, “River, please-” she moaned softly. He moved from leaving hot kisses along her collarbone to meet her eye,

“You ok?” he asked, his voice rough, “should I stop?” Lexie looked at him, incredulous.

“No, no, don’t you dare stop.” She begged, he kissed her deeply and then pulled back with a wolfish grin,

“Good, I’m very busy.” His eyes disappeared from hers again as he reached behind her to unhook her bra and drop it over the side of the bed. He sat up on his knees, taking in the sight of her beneath him with her neck flushed from the graze of his beard, and anticipation dancing in her eyes. He sank back down against her with a barely contained moan, placing tiny bites along the sensitive skin in the valley of her breasts. He moved further down her body, trailing kisses and little bites along her inner thigh while his hand reached up to link fingers with hers. “Look at me,” he whispered, his breath hot against her hip. He felt her body turn to liquid against him from the simple request. She tugged his hand to bring him back up her body but he shook his head, his beard catching the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, “still busy,” he said, his voice muffled. He pulled her underwear down her legs and then focused on nothing but her, losing himself in each gasp, moan and clutch of the hand still holding his. Lexie trembled as he led her through one bone-shaking orgasm without stopping, leaving her a shuddering mess as he went straight for another. Looking up at her, he could see the hand that wasn’t clinging onto him had covered her eyes. This time when she squeezed his hand, he made his way back up her body and settled between her legs. “Lexie?” he asked, leaving soft kisses on her jaw before finally capturing her mouth in a kiss. Lexie didn’t speak, just shook her head. “You taste fucking incredible.” He kissed her again and she whimpered, finally moving her hand away from her eyes.

“Fucking hell, River.” She sighed. He brushed his nose against hers before kissing her again,

“I’m not done.” He grinned.

“Oh,” she whispered weakly. “Good. Please-, oh fuck River,” he caught a hardened nipple lightly between his teeth, “please don’t stop.” So he didn’t, and he never would again if it was up to him. Lexie regained some control of her limbs, her hands fighting with the buckle of his strained jeans. As soon as she was able to, she pushed them down his hips and thigh with one hand while pulling him to her with the other,

“Have you got-” he started, his mouth on her neck, she moved away to reach for her bedside cabinet leaving him groaning with the loss of contact. She leaned up on her elbows, waiting for him to return to her. He pushed into her in long, slow strokes while she met him with each roll of her hips. She held his jaw to bring his gaze to her and he nearly fell apart but he was determined to get her there again first and he knew she was already so close. 

"You feel so good-," she whispered, "So good." He took his time with each blissful thrust, caging her with his arms. "Riv, I need-"

"I know babe, I'm right with you." His name was on her lips as she came again and he thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. As he joined her, he kissed her with such depth it took her breath away. They lay still together for a while as Lexie caught her breath. River kept his nose in the crook of her neck while his hand softly smoothed across her ribs and the side of her breasts. Her legs no longer locked around him, Lexie stretched out and enjoyed the weight of his body covering her. 

"'M crushing you," he mumbled. His voice so low in her ear made her shiver and despite not being ready for another round quite so soon, her hips buck, "Fucking hell, give me a minute," he laughed.

"You're not crushing me, and I'm not ready yet either," she grinned into his hairline and kissed his temple. 

"Hmm if you say so." He rocked against her, half hard again already, needing to hear the broken little moan that ghosted over his head.

“If whatever you have planned for tomorrow involves lots of walking then I think we might need a raincheck.” She giggled, threading her hand through his hair. He rose up onto his elbow to look down at her,

“So we’ll just stay here all day, yeah?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something to do.” She agreed with a knowing smile. Without warning, he gripped her waist and rolled over, pulling her on top of him. Lexie pushed up with her knees either side of his hips and ground down against him.

“Believe me, this view is everything,” he sat up and took her into his lap, one hand coming down between them to graze over her clit, “but I’m still taking you out tomorrow.” He concluded, increasing the pressure of his touch and coaxing a low whine from her. Lexie wound her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Still got plenty of time though, just don’t expect much sleep.” He whispered smugly.

*******************

The sunlight filtered through thin curtains and straight into Lexie’s eyes. She could feel a dull ache in her thighs and stomach, a reminder of the night before. It felt like she’d barely slept at all. She stretched out, her hand meeting empty space beside her. She could hear the kettle rattling on its stand in the kitchen and various cupboards opening and closing again so she pulled on a thin robe and followed the sounds. River looked perfectly at home in her kitchen, in boxers and a t-shirt, making tea and pulling warm croissants from the oven. He looked over as she padded into the room, catching his wrist on the hot oven tray,

“Ow, shit! You’re supposed to still be in bed.” He chided.

“Well I’m awake, so here I am,” she smiled, placing a gentle kiss where the tray had not quite burned him.

“Happy birthday.” He said softly, pulling her into a real kiss. He pressed her against the counter, his hands reaching for the gap in her robe. “Heard Sophie and Jess go out at the crack of dawn.” He told her, kissing along her jawline. Lexie nodded against him, “Aha,” he muttered victoriously as he found her bare skin underneath the robe. Lexie put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself just in time - his fingers slipped against her and he pushed two inside her, curling them just so and finding her already wet and willing for him. She gasped and he leaned in to kiss her. His hand rocked against her clit, his fingers fucking her as she moaned quietly into his collar. 

"River, I-"

"I know Lex, I've got you.” He pressed his palm harder into her clit and kept his fingers moving inside her. Lexie wobbled against him, moaning into his ear. He held her hip a little tighter, "Come on, babe, you’ve got it." She came with a quiet wail into the crook of his neck. He took his hand away, going to lick his fingers, but she grabbed his wrist and licked them herself while holding his gaze. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He warned.

“You started it.” She countered. He replaced the robe and kissed her lightly, going back to finish making the tea. Lexie sniggered as the evidence of his own arousal was clear to see through his boxers. “So, what’s the plan?” She asked, pulling a chair up to the counter next to him. He held up the plate of pastries,

“First, breakfast. Second most important meal of the day.”

“Second?” She queried before realising, “oh. Oh.” She blushed.

“Then we’re out all day - still not telling you where. I haven’t booked anywhere for dinner in case you wanted to come back here, or to mine, or you can get rid of me whenever you like.” 

“You made birthday breakfast, I think that’s worth keeping you around. Amongst other things.” She smiled, nudging his knee with her own.

It took far longer to get out of the house than usual. River could hardly keep his hands to himself and Lexie was exactly the same. She lost count of the number of times and ways he pulled sighs and moans from her willing body, mapping every inch of her and cataloguing every desperate whisper of his name. Finally though, they’d made it to her birthday surprise. The expansive O2 Arena loomed over them.

“How are you with heights?” He asked, leading her to an area littered with people in various stages of having harnesses and ropes attached to them. Lexie’s eyes widened,

“Umm… not great to be honest. We’re climbing it? Was this some dodgy ploy to get me tied up in some harness?” She teased.

“While that’s not a bad idea, it’s a bit too public I think.” He winked, “come on, make it to the top and I’ll make it worth it?” River kept his word, on aching legs Lexie made it to the top where she was greeted with a glass of champagne and one of the best views she’d ever seen. “Ahh I’ve seen better.” River had told her with a sly smile. They followed the group back down after their allotted time at the top and wound up in a cosy pub. Lexie poured the last of the wine between their glasses,

“Your place or mine?”

“Not fed up of me yet?” He asked.

“I find it hard to believe anyone gets fed up of you.”

“You haven’t met Shirley. Or in fact, anyone I work with.”

“Well I’m pretty sold on everything I’ve seen so far. Thank you for today, for the last 24 hours actually.” 

“You’re welcome. C’mon, my place is closer,” he looked at his watch, “and I’m sorry but it’s been far too long since I last saw you naked so let’s go, chop chop.”

“Chop chop?” Lexie laughed.

“Yep, I’m deadly serious. I genuinely don’t know what I’m going to do on Monday, I think I might have a problem. I’m addicted, there’s no other explanation.” He held out a hand as she drained her glass and they made the quick journey to his flat where she’d barely got the front door closed behind them before he pushed her up against it and kissed her with a fierceness she hadn't realised she was so desperate for. Her hands worked fast, pushing his jacket down his arms and onto the floor with a thud, and pulling him back to her by his t-shirt. His body pressed against her and she felt him, hard through his jeans. She brought up the leg he’d got a hand on and he hooked it over his hip, it tilted her lower body further into his and he was so close to where she needed him it sent her dizzy. It was impossible to disguise the neediness of her moans and the hand on her leg moved to unzip her jeans and pull them down to grip the fleshy soft spot between her hip and thigh. 

"God, River-," she whined, rocking her hips towards his,

"Sure this is ok?" She nodded against his shoulder. 

"Yes, yeah I'm sure," she pulled at his t-shirt, dragging it over his head.

"Good girl," he muttered against her collarbone.

“River,” She pleaded. He traced the line of her knickers with his fingers, feeling just how ready she was for him. 

"Fucking hell, Lexie," he said, wrecked. He slipped his fingers inside her and pressed his thumb to your clit, replicating the actions from the morning. He seemed to know exactly what she needed, and just as she reached the brink, grasping for the release that was just out of reach, he kissed her. It was hot and rough and sent her right over the edge. He gave her a minute, a slightly softer kiss, but she didn't need it, she only wanted him. Her shaking hands fumbled with the button of his jeans until he took over and did it himself, he dug out a condom from his wallet. Lexie was still fully clothed aside from the jeans held up at her knees. She shimmied them further down and kicked them off, then with his help, he had her at exactly the right height to move her underwear to one side and push into her. It was everything. He thrust into her using her hips as leverage, her hands held fast to the back of his neck and his shoulder, her name was reverent on his lips as he came and on hearing his incoherent praise in her ear, she was there too. His pace slowed as his hips stuttered, and her head rested in the crook of his neck while she caught her breath. All at once, he was gentle again, carefully putting her leg back down and making sure she was steady on her feet. He looked a little sheepish as he stepped back away from her, holding her hands to help her stand up away from the back of the door. He dragged a hand across the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “So I should give you a tour?” he shrugged.

*******************

Thanks for entertaining my silliness 😘

Chapter 5

[bambi-kinos]

About Get Back/Let It Be.

Because I'm been wondering about the changed clipped and cuts from from the original. Both Estates and Paul and Ringo approved it. Do you think Paul and the rest are aware of it? And if they are, why is that? they should know by now that the fandom knows about the original clips. I don't mind the changed parts or that it made it look lighter because the way he said it, that it feels like it saved his life and that it showed his talent but he must be aware more than anyone that some parts of the fandom are saying that he is trying to re-write the history. Or maybe he really did see it they way it shown as more accurate. I mean he was there. What are you thoughts on this. I don't bring Ringo in this because I don't think he knows much + he seem to have left it behind him.

They're definitely aware of the cuts because Peter Jackson had to get approval from all four sides in order to get the documentary on D+. Apple Records is still the owner of the footage, the only thing Disney is doing afaik is licensing the footage and other Beatle products. This is to sell subscriptions to their failure of a streaming service. So I would imagine that 1) Paul and Ringo have watched all the remastered footage in full; Peter said he remastered all of it and 2) they got final say on what went into it, as well as Dhani/Olivia, and Sean Lennon as the executor of John's estate. (Yoko is no longer in the picture, the industry rumors online are saying that she is currently dying of dementia and that Sean has been fully in charge of the estate for a few years now.)

It's also important to think broadly about who the documentary is for. The number of people who are intimate with the Beatles, know the full story about their woes, the people who don't fall for Yoko's bullshit, and the people who have actually listened to the Nagra tapes, is a tiny tiny tiny TINY slice of Beatles fandom. I would even posit that this portion of the audience is only 5,000-10,000, maybe 15,000 people at best. That is a tiny slice of a global audience that numbers in the millions.

Paul and Ringo are completely safe and they know it. They know that their audience is made up of passive normies that believe everything they see without question. If you show a normie Beatle fan a picture of John and Paul gayzing at each other and tell them "these men are heterosexual" they will immediately go "of course they're heterosexual!" And they will not question it further. If you have them listen to a piece of the Nagra tapes, the normie would declare it "boring." These are the types of people who make up 95% of the Beatles global audience. Everyone on the estate side knows this very well which means they have carte blanche to do whatever they want, edit however they want, say whatever they want, and there will be zero (0) appetite to question them.

Just look at the wealth of interviews where Paul says insane shit and the journalist never ever questions him on it! It never occurs to them to question it or investigate further. This is not because they are dumb, it is simply because these people are normies. They passively accept everything they are told and there is no desire whatsoever to act any other way. They would be confused and distressed by anyone who wants to dig deeper.

Why Paul and Ringo and the estates called for certain cuts and edits is unknown and unknowable. We have no idea what they mandated, what they had Peter cut, or why. We also have no idea what Disney made Peter cut to put it on D+. Don't forget that the Beatles are not the only forces at work here. We don't know and will likely never know.

Re: your last sentence, I don't think Ringo has moved on at all. He loves the Beatles and is protective of them as a property. IMO it is more accurate to say that Ringo has grieved for the Beatles and that he let go of his survivor's guilt about the Beatles and John's murder as a part of his recovery from substance abuse. As part of that he finally integrated Beatle Ringo into Richard Starkey and now he can be fully comfortable in his skin as both. But he still loves the Beatles and still cherishes them deeply, he just doesn't get involved in the negative aspects because he's done his time with them. The cruelty, meanness and greed is what he's moved on from.

[cdmagic1408]

Hey peeps, Quest Masters, followers, and all!

I know I've been gone for like...a YEAR. Life's been super crazy, you have NO idea. But not gonna get into all that. Just gonna say I’ve been good, been healing, then really good, happy, and off social media (it’s never really been my thing, so…) 😄

But I promise you I'm not dead! Rather, I've come back from the dead to say that I looked at today's date and just so happened to realize— OMG! It has been exactly three years since I published the first chapter of my Onward fan-novel, If You Trust Me! Wow!

I have found myself in other fandoms as an observer in this last year (maybe I’ll share what they are someday, but not yet), but first, I just wanna say that Onward is still my favorite Pixar film AND my favorite film ever, that hasn’t changed. I still think about it everyday and love it very much. But yeah, I have moved on to other things these days…

Second, and most importantly— I have decided that today, on the anniversary of IYTM’s publishing phase, I wanted to make a very teeny tiny adjustment to its title…

I have always called it, If You Trust Me - An Onward Fanfiction. But in the now-three years since I first shared this story with you all, I’ve come to realize that it really is much more than just a fanfiction—it’s a fan-NOVEL. 33 chapters, plus a prologue and a mid-credits scene. A year and a half to write. A story I wanted to make as authentic as possible to the world of Onward we know and love. It is no mere fanfic.

That said, I hereby rename the long title of this story to If You Trust Me - An Onward Fan-Novel! And to my fellow QMs, if any of you are still out there and reading this, I have you all to thank for it. You guys were the first to really call it a "fan-novel" in the first place, and now in official type, it IS a fan-novel! I know we’ve all kinda moved on and everything, but seeing as it's been a while, I just wanna take the time to thank you all for being there for me in the Onward era of my life. You know who you are. Whenever I look back on all the times we had together, I think of only the good times. There were many good, if not great, things we did and accomplished together as a fellowship and I'll never forget that. As rough as life is and as strange as this world is and will continue to be, I can confidently say now that after taking some time, I only see the good in what we experienced in the end ❤️‍🔥

Lastly, there really aren’t enough words or thanks I can give to show how grateful I am of this fan-novel. Writing it, publishing it, having it read, shared, liked, and all that. I haven’t forgotten about that either.

I am still very proud of this story, and always will be. It helped me grow as a writer, and it was something I wanted to do for myself and for all Quest Masters/Onward fans out there. So to put it simply, thank you. And if there’s anyone who hasn’t read it yet and would like to, by all means! Trust me (no pun intended) when I say that it is a LOT better than all of the incest fics combined. If You Trust Me is a story for anyone who absolutely loves the world of Onward and is looking for something that totally feels like it! ✨

I guess the very last thing I’ll say is, I am well aware that this coming March, Onward will be turning 5 (AHHHHHH! I was Barley’s age (19) when this first came out, whaaaaaaaaaaat) and since that is a big year, I might want to do something special for that. I’m not sure what it will be yet, but I believe I could do something. A long in-hindsight written reflection perhaps? Or an ensemble cast drawing? Both? I haven’t decided yet.

But yeah, that’s it from me for now. I am not planning on posting anything more later, tomorrow, or anytime soon. This isn’t an “I’m back and here to stay” post necessarily. More like a “hello, it’s been a while, but I’m doing well and I just wanted to let you all know that, plus it's an anniversary” post 😊 That’s all folks!

[dtmsrpfcringe]

You really are a dumb fuck, aren't you? You repeated exactly what I said, then told me I was wrong for saying what you parroted back to me. Living in your brain must be fucking insufferable.

Your own words were that they did not know each other ten years ago. Incorrect.

They have both said that they have known each other socially (i.e., friends) since 2001. They did not become close until they were in Good Omens. Yes, that is what I said. That's what you agreed to after I corrected your initial false statement. My god, little wonder you think this blog is a good idea when these are your thought processes.

Nothing else you said makes the slightest bit of sense. I can't even decipher the point of that word salad, and I am a teacher. Why would Michael use the names of the characters when he is talking about the show that the characters are in? What? You are reaching so hard that it is comical.

You are a class act making jokes about a congenital defect that kills newborn infants. Is that the kind of thing the mother of a newborn infant who claims to be a nurse would do? We have established that you are lying about both of those things. You are just an awful person. When it comes down to the real point of this blog, you don't care about the greater good of the fandom. You only want attention. You are shouting about a tiny corner of Tumblr that draws no attention to itself. You bring attention to it. You make it loud. Even when it disappears, you keep bringing it back. What's the real point here? You want attention for yourself. You want to be the hero in a war that doesn't exist.

Maybe you don't ship the hairband. Maybe you just have bad taste in music? I don't care. Either way, you have no place calling out anyone when you support those losers. They are the epitome of the scum of society. Actual misogynists. One of them even murdered someone while driving drunk. That is just the tip of the iceberg. But someone no one knows said something mean about Georgia Tennant on Tumblr? Someone suggests that two men who keep talking about having sex and being in love might be in love. Better clutch your pearls over that! Pathetic.

bae that isn’t what you said. You said they’ve been friends for almost 25 years. Do you write things and just fucking forget them? Or can you just not stop lying?

I can’t imagine being a teacher and just constantly being so goddamn wrong, I bet your students can’t stand you.

also saying you don’t have a brain isn’t making fun of a congenital defect babe. I’m neither lying about being a mom or healthcare professional. Most people I talk to pretty regularly here have seen my baby, and it would be pretty hard work to have an entire baby to…fake being a mom??? I’m not going to put my baby’s face on here to prove to someone like you that she’s real, and frankly I think it’s a little strange you wanna see that bad babe. Like? Your obsession with an internet stranger’s newborn (i guess infant now omfg) is kinda creepy.

As for my health certification, you don’t know shit actually. I busted my ass in high school to be licensed because of the people who helped me as a kid. Also I’m not a nurse😉 you are right about that. There’s more to healthcare than your RN and MDs lol. You seem like you’d yell at underpaid healthcare workers in the worst way possible.

you obviously did understand, but didn’t want to lick your wounds and slink into the corner.

btw this group absolutely does draw attention to yourself. I found these people by looking for cute Georgia and Anna stuff and finding hate and misogyny spread about them. As for Motley Crue, I hardly listen to them anymore, if literally ever. I haven’t posted anything about them in over a year and that is why I removed 2000 of my followers on instagram and made it private to have a personal acc. I just never bothered changing the username lol. So try again I guess.

Anyways here’s my daily reminder to you that David and Michael would be disgusted with you. Hope you have the day you deserve!

Keep sending these I think we’re falling in love boo🚨🔵🚨🔵