#i have a whole series planned out for them

[rebelfell]

rub one out┃(for your viewing pleasure-verse)

pornstar!eddie x director!reader

a cheeky (pun intended) bit of filth based on part of my blurb series. I was trying to keep the snippets short, but this just kinda poured out of me over the past couple days.

cw: sex work, simulated adultery, oral (fem receiving)

18+, MDNI┃2.8k

Maybe this was a bad idea.

You couldn’t escape the nagging thought as you stepped outside, tightening the belt on your fluffy white bathrobe, tugging at the terrycloth tail and twisting it in your fingers. Your eyes flitted to each member of your crew, all of them in position waiting to get this show on the road.

Why were you so nervous? You’d certainly done this enough times before not to get stage fright. So why did your stomach feel more tangled than the box of electrical cords in Lenny’s truck?

Part of you almost wished it would rain, or the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you didn’t have to go through with this. But the concrete remained solid under your feet, and the sky overhead showed no signs of altering its radiant blue color. Perfect.

It’s gonna be fine, you thought in an attempt to soothe yourself. It’s all gonna be fine.

And you almost believed it would be.

Sammy, who was barely a step up from an intern, had swiftly been promoted once the plan for you to replace your no-show leading lady was set in motion. You weren’t worried about her, though—she was smart and a quick study; she knew all the shots you needed, and she had a good eye.

If you couldn’t be behind the camera yourself, she was pretty much the only one you trusted.

Well…maybe not the only one.

Eddie’s eyes met yours as soon as you stepped out of the trailer. The sunlight hit his deep brown irises, making them glow the color of rich honey. But behind the liquid gold, you could see his own nerves and it made your stomach flip, wondering what he could possibly be nervous about.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he came up next to you. “You good?”

For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better by now when it came to Eddie.

“Nope,” you chuckled. “I’m kinda shitting myself.”

“Well, that’s just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,” he chuckled back.

A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine when he hears it and the sight makes your chest feel all warm inside.

“No, you’re right,” you said. “I’m okay, I just…don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

His plush pink lips pressed into a straight line, his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out a reassuring hand and placed it on your shoulder, rubbing it through your robe.

“You’re gonna be great,” he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.

Easy for him to say. He’s a fucking natural.

Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at it—competent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all the way you felt since getting behind the camera.

You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He then leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.

“You look…really beautiful,” he said.

His warm breath rushed across your neck, the heat coming off his skin making your ears buzz. An explosion of fluttering began in your stomach, like there were butterfly cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they were all hatching.

“We should get moving,” you said, pulling back. “Burning daylight.”

Eddie straightened. He nodded and you nodded back, sliding past him to do final checks before you started rolling. Telling yourself he must have pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there before he came over to talk to you.

The nerves didn’t disappear once you started working, but your body and brain did snap into a kind of performance mode you remembered well.

You started with some still photography for the VHS box art—shots of you in progressing states of undress, your robe dropping off your shoulder, Eddie pulling it open to reveal your body, his hand running up your thigh in a slow caress.

He let it trail all the way up your stomach and chest until he curled his finger under your chin and tipped your face toward his, letting his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and your heart raced, thinking he might close the gap and actually kiss you—

But after the shutter snapped, he simply let his hand drop and backed away. 

The loss of his body heat sent a chill down your spine and you shivered despite the blazing sun overhead. Eddie’s eyes caught yours, the nearly imperceptible lift of his brow asking, ‘you okay?’ You nodded and another shiver skittered across your skin as you pulled your robe back up.

For the next shot, you climbed up on the massage table and he got into position behind you. His body pressed yours down, your back arching under him as he dipped his head low to take the lobe of your ear between his teeth, palming your exposed breast with his large, strong hand. 

You let your mouth hang open, not even needing to fake the look of desperation on your face. And let yourself believe Eddie’s excitement you could feel digging into the fat of your ass was real too. The little grunts and whines he let out when you wriggled against him certainly didn’t sound fake.

After the photos, there was nothing left to do but move on to the main event. 

You and Eddie reset—him standing in frame, you just outside of it. Sammy panned the camera around, establishing the setting, zooming in on the fountain feature in the pool and then coming around to film Eddie as he snapped a fresh towel and laid it out on the massage table.

From your spot off-camera, it’s impossible not to be mesmerized by the sight. Biceps rippling, tendons in his arms flexing as he smoothed the towel flat. His tattoos stood out even more than normal with him in white slacks and a white polo meant to give the impression of him being an employee of the resort. And the little twist your hair and make-up girl Jael did is something new that only further accentuates the thick column of his neck and his angular jaw.

He’d left off his rings and bracelets, as was typical when he was filming, and you couldn’t help but think about that day in the editing suite. When he’d touched your knee, and you felt the silver ridges press into your flesh. It had jarred you somewhat, how right it felt to have his hand there and how you’d nearly leaned in to meet his lips when you saw his face getting closer.

You hadn’t kissed him that day—promptly removing yourself from temptation in an attempt to salvage some shred of your professionalism. And you (mostly) felt good about that decision. It would have been reckless and destructive and your entire working relationship might have been compromised. You’d made the right call that day, you were sure of it. Mostly…

But today was different. Today, it wasn’t going to derail your career. If anything, your career was mandating you give in to those urges that had plagued you so relentlessly. And that was when it hit you all at once—the realization about as subtle as a train crashing through a wall.

You were going to fuck Eddie.

You’re going to feel firsthand what it’s like to have his face and cock buried between your legs; what it’s like to suck on his fingers and soak them with your spit before he presses them to your clit; what he sounds like when he comes all over your stomach or tits (you can’t quite recall what the script specifies, you just know it’s meant to be outside so he can dotingly clean you up after). 

The barrage of thoughts that storm through your mind are so consuming, you nearly miss your cue to enter the scene. But once you do, you’re rather grateful for the distraction of the set-up dialogue:

“It’ll just be me, today. My husband has a meeting he couldn’t get out of.”

“No, no, it’s not his fault. I got it as a surprise for our anniversary—I should have known better than to book it without checking his schedule.”

“I’m afraid I never know how much to take off for a massage…what do you suggest?”

Eddie answered your last question with a smooth, “Whatever makes you most comfortable,” and a smile so warm it would melt the ice caps.

Giving him a smile of your own, you slowly pulled at the tie of your robe. It fell to the ground in a heap at your feet and Eddie’s dark eyes roved over you hungrily. Now revealed to be completely naked, you feigned some degree of shyness: ducking your head low, looking up at him from underneath your lashes, brushing your hand over your stomach as though to hide it while really drawing his eyes to its plush softness.

“Is this alright?” you asked him with a coy smirk. Eddie grinned, still drinking you in.

“Absolutely,” he breathed. And the raptness in his eyes almost had you believing him.

You took your time getting up on the table, propping yourself up on all fours, letting him (and the camera) take a good, long look at the fullness of your hips before you settled in place. Arms at your side, you took a deep breath as you laid flat on your stomach, relieved there wouldn’t be much dialogue needed for this next part.

Through the little donut headrest at the end of the table, you saw Sammy’s feet as she moved in close—filming tight on Eddie’s hands while he pumped massage oil onto them and warmed it by spreading it between his palms.

Your chest tightened, nerves coiling in your stomach as you anticipated his touch, forcing your body to keep still so you didn’t pull focus.

He smoothed some oil over your skin, starting at the ankles and thoroughly coating your calves. The smell of clary sage filled the air, earthy and warm. And underneath it, a clean and woodsy scent you recognized as Eddie’s soap wafted up to your nose when he leaned in closer.

His fingertips began to knead your muscles, slipping and sliding easily over your skin that was slick with the oil. He made tiny circles with his thumbs, alternating back and forth as they moved in a steady pattern up your calf.

Oh, that’s right…

In all the hubbub, you’d forgotten the whole concept for this shoot was borne on the fact that Eddie went to massage school for real. He’d told you before, after he left his hometown (shit, what was it again? Hawk-something…) that he started collecting different jobs like merit badges.

Just bounced from thing to thing, trying his hand (sometimes both) at whatever life presented. And that included porn. He’d said he only auditioned for that first film he did because someone he’d slept with a handful of times knew a casting director and suggested he’d be good at it.

“He certainly had the dick for it” were her exact words, if you recalled. Strange to think in a way, you might owe that girl your career.

Through the pleasurable haze your mind dipped into having Eddie’s capable hands erasing every ounce of stress you carried in your muscles, you realized he was moving the scene right along while you just lay there humming and moaning with relief at his practiced touch.

He’d lowered his voice to that deep, rumbly register he always used when he was building towards the next phase. His DM voice, as he so affectionately dubbed it. Rough and gravely, yet even and tempered, guiding both you and the audience along on the journey of this fuck.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying…but your husband’s a jackass for missings out on this.”

Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as he moved to your thighs. His fingertips dug into your flesh, kneading it like dough, letting his thumbs swerve dangerously close to your center.

“You deserve someone who puts you first…who knows what he has and worships you…”

One of his thumbs swiped briefly over your puffy lips, and you knew he felt how wet you were.

“You know, I’d never let you out of my sight if you were mine…”

His words dripped slowly and intentionally past his lips, his hands creeping higher and higher up your legs. At last, they slid over the globes of your ass and he groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, spreading you apart to see your center, soaked with arousal that had been pooling there, truth be told, from the moment Eddie had told you how beautiful you looked. 

You heard Eddie’s next line in your head before he said it, “If you really want to relax, I can try a very special technique. I don’t do it for just anyone. It’s a little bit…unorthodox…”

And you were more than ready to take him up on his offer once he delivered the line. 

But Eddie went off script.

Instead of hearing words, you felt the wet heat of his tongue glide through your folds as he buried his face between your spread ass cheeks. Your head popped out of the headrest, letting out a breathy moan of surprise and delight.

The shock on your face was evident as Sammy pushed in close to capture your expression, but so was your pure and utter elation. You’d never felt anything so good in your life…

And it seemed you weren’t the only one.

Eddie groaned loudly as he lapped messily at your folds, his spit mixing with your slick that covered the bottom half of his face. And it was only after a few blissful seconds of eager licking that he even realize what he’d done.

“I’m—mmph—sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” He panted out in between sinful swirls of his tongue, his he words muffled by your ass cheeks because he couldn’t stand to pull away even a little, even long enough to speak. “I had to taste you…”

”It’s okay,” you answered, voice already wrecked beyond belief. “It’s okay, just keep going—”

The command is directed at him as much as it is the crew, who only panicked slightly. Eddie never did stuff like this and they just weren’t ready.

They got back on track quickly enough, Sammy signaling the boom mic to get as close as he can without dipping into frame in order to pick up every lurid slurp and suck of Eddie’s mouth.

After no more than a few minutes, the fluffy towel under you was bunched in your fists and your hips squirmed as Eddie continued to eat you out like a mad man. His tight grip on your ass cheeks held fast, spreading you wider still so his tongue could probe deeper. The sounds he pulled out of you didn’t even sound human to your ears, let alone recognizable as your own voice. 

But you didn’t care.

However you sounded, however you looked, it was superfluous to what Eddie was doing and the precipice he brought you to. Your orgasm hit harder than any drug, than any physical blow. It had you shaking uncontrollably, reaching back to grip the hair at the crown of his head as your hips pushed back to meet every thrust of his tongue while you rode out your exceptional high.

You felt its tingling sensation spread to every inconsequential inch of your body, like an ocean of fire that crashed over you in wave after wave of scorching pleasure. Drowning you in it.

When you finally found the strength in your limp limbs to roll over onto your back, Eddie’s eyes were waiting to meet yours. You could see on his face how sorry he was, how worried he was he’d fucked up. And you tried to communicate with him in that mind-melding, wordless sort of way you and he always did that it was fine—that people were going to love it.

Cocking your brow at him, dipping into a more salacious tone to really sell the transformation from demure housewife to lusty adulterer, you threw in a little adlib of your own.

“That’s some technique you’ve got there,” you teased him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “My husband’s certainly never done that before.”

Eddie’s sly smile returned, his lips curling as he reached out to grip your waist. He hauled you closer with one jerk, bringing you to the edge of the table so your hips were flush with his. The bulge in his white pants was harder than ever when it pressed against your cunt, and he grinned wickedly when he felt just how ready you were for more. He yanked up the shirttail of his polo and whipped it off his body, tossing it behind him where it landed half in the pool.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted softly, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Tysm for reading! 🛸 comments and reblogs keep your skin clear and your crops watered 🫶🏻

[reidmoony-toast]

Strawberry Wine. ౨ৎ

"If I was empty space, and you were a formless shape we'd fit"

Spencer x fem singer!reader

The three times they miss each other, and the one time they don't

content: no use of y/n, fluff, pining galore

cw: lil suggestive? (She sings Chappell Roan)

wc: 2.4k

an: I've been cooking this up for a while, but life has been super busy, so I haven't yet finished the other parts. I'm very sorry if they take a few weeks to finish :[ Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3

| pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | series masterlist ౨ৎ

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He really wished he wasn’t here. He never should have begrudgingly agreed to Penelope’s crazy plans, no matter how much she bugged him about it. This was about as far opposite to his kind of thing that you could get.

The lights were bright–unbearably so; flashing so much he feared he would have an epileptic episode (if it weren’t for the small fact that he didn’t actually have epilepsy, but he digressed).

The large room was also deafening, filled with fans, all of them buzzing in anticipation. Penelope was not an exception–she bounced up and down like a rogue ball, shrieking in excitement close to every thirty seconds. He would know. He had been counting.

Although he would rather be at the very back (if he had to choose anywhere in this wretched place), Penny had physically forced him into the very front row, only a barrier separating them from the stage.

He didn’t know and definitely didn’t want to know how Penelope had acquired such tickets and at such short notice before the show. He had found that he was better living in ignorance of the borderline illegal habits of his best friend.

He had just endured half an hour of what Penny had called the ‘openers’. He was dismayed to hear that the performance was not the actual concert; he learnt that the hard way when he had asked Penelope if they could leave, which she replied to with a cackle, stating that the band that had just exited the stage was, in fact, not the main event of the evening.

He had buried his face in his hands and let out a loud groan. He only had himself to blame for being caught up in the ‘Garcia puppy eyes’ trap, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t whinge at least a little bit–or a lot bit.

He didn’t know much about this singer girl, only that Penelope was obsessed with her, bringing her up in conversation many a time. He admitted that he often didn’t fully (if at all) listen when Garcia gushed over her–he seemed to always zone out.

He had never properly heard her songs, only in passing when Penelope would blast music in her cave, and he didn’t even have a clue what she looked like.

He was mentally preparing himself for the next few gruelling hours, with Penny jumping up and down beside him, when the lights dimmed, sending the whole room into a frenzy.

He winced at the screaming and whooping coming from all around him. Smoke machines started emitting mist, covering the stage and fogging up the colourful lights. The crowd continued to roar, Penelope squealing next to him and gripping the railing of the barrier.

A figure emerged through the haze, the silhouette showing locks of hair cascading over their shoulders, clad in a silk slip dress that ended at the mid thigh, hugging their curves.

They started singing–a smooth, silky voice wrapped around him, making the room suddenly feel more bearable. He swallowed hard. The singing was beautiful. Sweet and rich, wrapping around him like a cosy blanket.

He raised his eyebrows with pleasant surprise. It was, admittedly, not bad in the slightest. He hated to say it, but he was enjoying it, a lot. More than he should, given that it was new-age pop, not the refined tones of classical music–his favourite genre by far.

All thoughts of music flew out of his head as the owner of the angelic voice stepped into the stage lights, allowing him to properly see her for the first time. His breath left his body as he took her in.

She was gorgeous, stunning–almost ethereal, as her other-worldy voice filled his cochlea, transmitting electrical signals through his nerve pathways to his primary auditory cortex.

Her hair shone in the light, giving her a halo of the highest grade, her bright lips curled into a perfect smile around her words, and her eyes shone with a million glinting stars.

He was utterly enamoured by her–every facial expression, every movement she made, every note she sang was all absorbed thoroughly by his wide eyes.

In no time at all, the first song was over, finishing with loud cheering and clapping from the audience. The angel grinned out at the sea of fans, soaking up the feeling.

Unlike Spencer, she was well and truly in her element, looking as though there was not where else in the world she would rather be.

He gazed in open-mouthed awe at the way she floated effortlessly about the stage–and, of course, that breathtaking smile that scrunched her nose and revealed the prettiest dimples he had ever seen.

He was snapped back to reality with a sharp poke in the side from Penelope, centering his gravity away from the girl on stage and back to where he stood.

“What?” He said loudly, an exasperated look adorning his face as he tore his eyes back to his best friend. She was smirking at him, arms crossed in front of herself.

“You have such a thing for her, I’m surprised you're not drooling right now,” she answered mockingly. He scoffed, dismissing her words with a wave of his hands as he faced the stage again, not wanting to miss a moment of the show. He heard Garcia laugh deeply at his half-hearted denial.

All thoughts of Penelope soon left his mind as the heaven-sent saint started to sing again, striking chords in his heart at every note.

The song came and went again, and Spencer wished they would not go by so fast, so he could see her for as long as possible.

The next song started with a more upbeat track, and the angel laughed, running back down stage, scarily close to where Spencer stood. “She was a, Playboy, Brigitte Bardot,” she started to sing, “She showed me things, I didn't know.”

She stuck out her tongue playfully, shaking her hips, making the satin fabric hugging her curves sway.

“She did it right there, out on the deck,” she bit down on her bottom lip as Spencer’s face heated, realising what the song was about. “Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck.”

She gestured with her fingers to a spot on her neck, pretending as if her fingers were the teeth, tipping her head back with imaginary ecstasy. He swallowed heavily, face hot.

“I'm in the hallway waitin' for ya,” she sang, “Mini skirt and my go-go boots,” on those lyrics, she bent over, running her free hand from her heeled boots and up her legs, jutting her ass out.

Spencer’s mouth fell open in shock. He had never felt like this from only a few minutes of meeting someone, let alone just laying his eyes on them. This was completely out of the ordinary for him, and it left him reeling.

~☆~

Songs flitted by like the butterflies in his stomach, and his gaze was permanently fixated on the captivating women centre-stage. He couldn't tear his eyes away even if he tried–and he most definitely didn't.

A new song started, fading in with a catchy guitar riff, and the crowd went wild, sparking a wide smile on the angel’s face.

The drum beat started, and she strutted down the stage, tipping her head back and shaking her smooth curls out in the dim lights before she began to sing. “Midnight,” she dragged out the end of the word.

“Come and pick me up, no headlights,” she blew a kiss to the fans in front of her, winking as she made her way down the stage towards where Spencer was situated.

Penelope grasped his arm tighter and tighter as she neared, buttery voice washing over him.

“Watch us go ‘round and ‘round each time,” she stretched out the note, rolling her head to the side, eyes landing exactly where Spencer was standing. He froze, dumbstruck, as he locked eyes with her.

He gulped heavily as a cheeky grin adorned her face, soft lips framing perfectly white teeth. She straightened up, continuing the lyrics as she floated even closer to him, never breaking eye contact.

“You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye,” She knelt down on the stage in front of Spencer. His breathing stuttered as his gaze remained on her, utterly entranced.

“And I got that red lip classic thing that you like,” she dragged her thumb across her lip, singing to him through a happy, if not slightly teasing, smile.

“‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style,” He could see her mouth curving around each syllable as she sang into the microphone, eyes still, somehow, on him.

He most definitely looked like an idiot in that moment, with his flushed cheeks and slack-jawed awe of the ethereal woman only a few feet away, but he didn't have it in himself to care.

She had seen him, and not only that, she had actually come over and sat, right there on the stage in front of him. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, she was–without question–looking, and singing, straight at him.

She leaned impossibly closer, leaving only a few inches between their two faces as she crooned the words into the microphone. His eyes flicked across the features of her face before they settled on her own.

Up close, they were mesmerising– long, thick lashes framed bright irises, sparkling with the light of the night sky– he could almost map out the constellations he knew off by heart from the incandescent twinkles in her eyes.

“You got that long hair, slicked back-” She moved her free hand to hover over the collar of Spencer's shirt, seemingly asking silent consent to touch him.

He shook out of his trance long enough to nod vigorously. She let out a short chuckle, grabbing his collar and carefully but firmly pulling him closer by his shirt. “-white T-shirt.”

His breath hitched as hers ghosted his lips with every exhale, noses almost touching, with hardly any room for the microphone as his heart raced impossibly faster.

“And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt.” At that, she pulled away, letting go of his collar as she leaned back to run her free hand over her skirt, smirking at Spencer and his flaming-red face.

“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time,” she repeats, still serenading him. “'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style!” She finally stood, winking and blowing a kiss at a thoroughly flustered Spencer as she strutted to another part of the stage.

Spencer stood there, dumbfounded. He couldn't believe she had not only noticed him, but also sang right to him. His shirt was crumpled from where she had gripped it, but he didn't dare fix it. If possible, he would never smooth the rumpled fabric if it meant he could have a reminder of her always.

A rough shake of his shoulder brought him back to the present, Penelope standing astonished next to him, incredulous smile playing on her lips and she all but shrieked in his ear–something along the lines of, ‘You're so lucky!’ and ‘You're so down bad!’.

He didn't pay her any mind, instead keeping his still-red face on her, and her only.

She wandered to different parts of the stage during the remainder of the song, but Spencer didn't miss the more-than-occasional glances she sent his way throughout the next few songs, smile growing each time they locked eyes.

When they did, he matched her smile with his own goofy grin, his heart feeling as if it was beating out of his chest, breathing becoming erratic as he clutched the railing with white knuckles.

~☆~

All too soon, the concert came to an end, accompanied by raucous applause from the crowd. He clapped like a mad thing too, finally understanding why her fans acted the way they did.

The version of him from two hours ago would have teased him relentlessly for this, but he didn't care. It was another completely different version of him, a version that had not yet laid his eyes on her.

It certainly felt like a life-altering moment in his existence. His being was now split into ‘before’ and ‘after’. Before and after her.

She waved and blew kisses enthusiastically as she made her way off stage. He deduced that she would have to walk right past Spencer to get there. He pathetically hoped she would look at him one last time–prayed she cared enough to seek him out once again.

Electricity jolted through his entire body, head to toe, as she locked eyes with Spencer when he was in her direct line of sight.

She gave him a wink and a little wave, biting her lip through a larger-than-life grin; he felt giddy, hand coming up in an awkward half-wave. He silently cursed himself for the stiltedness of his actions.

She, however, didn't have such qualms as she blew him an air kiss, giggling as she turned away, skipping the rest of the way off stage. The screaming continued as the heel of her shoe disappeared behind the side-stage curtain.

He felt oddly hollow as the venue lights came back on, signalling the end of the show. He kept staring at the spot where she had last been, silently hoping she would come back out and sing again. Look at him again.

He blinked hard, finally re-orienting himself, glancing around to see a few people staring at him, whispering to themselves.

They were talking about him–about his encounter. He turned away again, ducking his head as his cheeks burned again.

As quickly as they came, the stares went again, and his eyes flicked back to the stage again. He so badly wanted to meet her, talk to her, even just lay his eyes on her again. That would be enough.

Penelope cleared her throat next to him, and he hummed in response, still not looking away. She snorted. “Come on lover boy, time to leave.”

He turned his attention to see her nod in the direction of the exit.

He gazed back at that spot once more, heaving out a melancholy sigh, before turning away, heading towards the door.

“Yeah, let's go.”

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Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Tags: @reidology13 - Comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[vidavalor]

How do you think the Ineffable Husbands reacted to the 1914 Christmas Armistice?

Also, it is autumn now and very cloudy and soggy, so here is a seasonally-appropriate recipe: https://www.hairybikers.com/recipes/view/caramelised-apple-cheesecake

Aw, a recipe! You're lovely. 😊 That looks amazing!

I envy you being in one firm season over there. September is a transition month here in New England. Half-summer, half-fall. It's very strange, though, not terrible. One day is lemonade and watermelon and the next is where's my blanket? and I need an apple something and looking up what day Bake Off starts to air over here. Another week, though, and it'll be pretty much fall from here on out. Definitely going to make that cheesecake. 😊

I think they probably reacted to the Christmas Armistice the same way many of us do when we learn about it-- that it's both beautiful and morbidly depressing at once. It showed people coming together to express a sense of shared humanity but then they went back to killing one another afterwards. It wasn't a new story for Crowley and Aziraphale because they had seen that in people all throughout history but I'm sure they found the same mix of hopefulness and sadness in it that a lot of people do.

The one who understands what it takes to bring about peace now best in the series is actually Gabriel, imho. It's because he understood the deeper meaning of Sandalphon's words that Sandalphon didn't actually understand himself: "you can't have a war without war."

Some short thoughts on ties between war, frozen peas, and one of my favorite of Agnes Nutter's prophecies beneath the cut.

When Sandalphon said: "you can't have a war without war", what he meant was: "Look how clever I think I am to use this word twice in two ways in one sentence! You can't have a war without War: The Character! Mirelle Enos is playing a character that shares a name with large-scale killing and destruction and I pointed it out! I'm so smart!"

Gabriel, though, heard the potential of bigger ideas: "You can't have a war (a large-scale military conflict) without war (people willing to fight in a war and, also, a person's inner struggle leading them to be willing to fight in war)."

Meaning: A war can only happen if people are willing to fight the war.

Meaning: No soldiers, no war.

Gabriel knew Aziraphale heard it like that, too, and was like lol Aziraphale, this guy thinks he's a poet omg let me flatter him enough that he won't notice that I just tried to help you sell more erotica and didn't murder you for having a lover and then we'll get out of here...

Gabriel saying that he "might use that one day" about what Sandalphon says is a line that-- delightfully-- ages quite differently the more we get to know Gabriel.

We know he said it in that moment to make it sound like he was telling Sandalphon that what Sandalphon had said was just so profound that Gabriel was tempted to use it himself... but we also know that Gabriel is neither as dumb nor as vapid as he strategically lets people think he is and that he understood the deeper way of looking at what Sandalphon said more than Sandalphon did.

Looking back on it, it's Gabriel actually joking about mutinying in front of Heaven's most fervent Metatron-worshipping fascist in a way that is very much going over Sandalphon's head. Gabriel is all can't have a war without war-- yeah, true dat, Stasi a Fond. I'm slowly losing it over here and my favorite fantasy is just peacing out entirely of this whole 'Commander of The Heavenly Host' shit and wouldn't that really completely eff up The Ineffable Plan? Oh, my secret daydream... if only I could...

Then, what happens, though, by the end of S1?

Gabriel sees a kid do just that.

The eleven year old spawn of Satan is all yeah, no, you can't have a war without war. I don't want to start a war. I like the world. I've got enough on my plate dealing with my own life-- I don't want to rule over everyone. I want everyone to feel at peace and be happy and take care of each other.

Gabriel was freaked out because of the consequences of this and the fact that he, at the the time, thought The Metatron might kill him for failing to start Armageddon but, after the day was over and Gabriel had a moment to breathe and think about it, you can't tell me he didn't hear Adam saying that it was too much pressure to be in charge of every other living being in existence and he just wanted to chill with the people he liked and live his own life in peace and let everyone else do that, too and think to himself:

Yeah, kid. Me too.

The dude who is told he's responsible for everyone in Heaven and who sees angels falling as partly his fault and whom the humans deify and to whom they make statues was like fucking hell, the little antichrist brat was right.

He realized that it's not about Armageddon, it's about living and building a life until you have all the world you need. It's about what Crowley and Aziraphale have been trying to do and about what he and Beez were as well. Gabriel's proposal to Beez is a simple one:

What if, instead of Armageddon, there was no Armageddon?

What if, instead of war, there's no war?

So, he ended up fulfilling his own prophecy a bit when the one day came when he used what Sandalphon said-- just not in the way that Sandalphon meant it but in the way that Gabriel himself and Aziraphale heard it: you can't have a war without war... no war exists if enough people refuse to fight it.

That's the way to stop Armageddon.

Gabriel came to realize that the best thing he could do as a leader in Heaven and commander of its armed forces was to refuse to fight, come what may. He quits the army and defects to the embassy of the only independent country that exists in the supernatural world: the United States of Crowley and Aziraphale.

As Agnes said:

...the calm cometh when Redde and Whyte and Black and Pale approache to Peas is Our Professioune.

In this case: Redde/Red (Crowley), Whyte/White (Aziraphale), Black (Beez), Pale (Gabriel). To profess: to state. Peas = the talking of frozen peas because homophone: peace.

The calm cometh when Crowley, Aziraphale, Beez and Gabriel talk and each get closer to their own peace and to peace with one another and help each other to spread that mentality throughout all those willing in Heaven and Hell and Earth.

That's what you feed the other ducks-- your frozen peas. Your own stuff that is disturbing your own inner peace and creating inner wars and small-scale conflicts that, if left unchecked, can build into larger-scale ones.

If you break that shit down and talk about it, there needn't be any war.

Sometimes, it means shedding some armor, keeping an open mind, and admitting that you were wrong-- all things that can be difficult...

...especially for those are secretly tender-hearted but put up that armor to survive in worlds steeped in toxic masculinity...

...and, sometimes, it's maddening because people are scared and get set in their ways and do dumb shit and you have to upend power structures and reinforce more positive behaviors to get them to shut up long enough to start listening to one another...

...but the more who learn to unlearn the harmful stuff at the core of their own struggles and who open their minds up to listening to others, the more we're professing our peas to our fellow ducks and getting closer to peace within ourselves and within the world as a whole and that's what it's all about. It might always be approaching Peas is Our Professioune rather than a perfectly peaceful world but the point is the effort of the approach and to just keep making steady progress as much as we can while we're walking the Earth. After all...

[multifandom--mess]

Hannigram Fic Recs! pt.3

part 1 | part 2

here's some fic recs for youuu (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆ definitely took me way too long to add a part 3 to this but whatever, enjoy a variety of fics in no particular order that i've read the last few months that deserve to be shared and enjoyed ♡

old-fashioned divinity candy [series, ongoing]

Explicit, 115k+ | the relationship between old money, med student hannibal lecter and his newly rich sugar daddy, will graham

Like a Lucid Dream

Explicit, 75k | In the days following Will's fateful fall from the bluff, Molly Graham begins to understand the extent of her ignorance regarding Hannibal and Will's relationship. The discovery of her husband's deceit leads her to seek refuge and escape in their cottage in the mountains. There's only one problem: she's not the only one who is looking for a place to hide.

you swallow my heart and flee (but i want it back now)

Explicit, 65k | After they killed Francis Dolarhyde, Will was certain he pulled Hannibal off the cliff with him, but when he wakes up, he’s still on the edge of the bluff, surrounded by FBI agents and paramedics. It’s apparent Hannibal got away safely, and Will is put on the job to help find him. When Will finds Hannibal’s journal in his old cell, filled with entries about, and drawings of, himself, he sneaks it into the waistband of his pants and takes it home. It forces Will into dealing with his own feelings, and figuring out what he wants. Will can only hope the journal gives him the answers he seeks.

And the Winter Sheds His Grief in Snow

Mature, 4.5k | On a car ride, Will spots something... abnormal. And it somehow breaks the normality of their relationship, in ways neither of them expected.

According to Winston

Mature, 7.9k | Winston this, Winston that — everyone in Will Graham’s life is now privy to his new stray, the lucky seven of his pack of dogs. It comes as a surprise when Winston isn’t what anyone expected, and this new light sets a backdrop to Hannibal’s carefully manipulated plans to make Will into his full and whole self.

Mundane Madness

Explicit, 104k | After a traumatizing experience, Will decides that maybe he deserves a shot at a normal, healthy life. It just might be nice to have Hannibal at his side too.

Leviathan

Mature, 24k | Three years after they fell into the Atlantic, Hannibal and Will have made a new life for themselves in the sun-soaked Douro Valley. But old hurts and unaddressed fears lurk beneath the idyllic pretense, threatening to consume all semblance of peace.

Between Black and White: Crimson

Explicit, 9.6k | After surviving the fall and undergoing a proper treatment, Will and Hannibal moved to a place from the past to start their future together. Till death knocked at their door...again.

Suffer A Sea Change

Mature, 29k | Hannibal meets Will, a fisherman with something oceanic lingering behind his eyes, one stormy summer in coastal France.

Omnipotence Paradox

General Audiences, 14k | The trap springs too quickly in Florence. Will and Hannibal adapt.

There's Something So Lonesome About You

Explicit, 90k | When will Graham is released from the BSHCI, he realizes that there is little left for him with the FBI. He packs up the essentials (and Winston, of course), and leaves. Hannibal has to deal with the sudden loss of Will, and he is not very happy about it.

Leila Isabella

Mature, 11k | Will has been utterly miserable in the long months since Hannibal turned himself in, but he gave Hannibal an unexpected gift in the last hours before everything fell apart.

Hidden Place

Not Rated, 5.5k | Two years after the fall, Will and Hannibal share a heated evening in Cuba.

More Myself Than I Am

Explicit, 9k | Everyone has a soulmate. Someone they will connect with on such an intimate level that they are like one mind in two bodies. It comes on the cusp of adulthood, a shared link between two minds. It will start with feelings, emotions shared across the connection. Some people claim senses; smell and sound. Those who are thoroughly, intensely intertwined can claim to send their very thoughts towards each other, although it’s generally considered bad luck to use the connection to find each other sooner than you are meant to. It is a wonderful thing, to know that no matter who you are or what you’ve done, somebody out there will understand you. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

In the Darkest Recess

Mature, 12.7k | As a child, Hannibal has problems making friends. A therapist gives him a doll to practice social skills on. Hannibal calls him Will, and quickly becomes obsessed with his new best friend. He never leaves it, even when he begins to hear Will's voice in his head, promising that he will never leave Hannibal, as long as Hannibal is willing to give him 'life to live'. Great love, after all, requires great sacrifice.

[andie-platonically]

Fantasy High characters as songs by The Mountain Goats

1. Kristen Applebees - Before I Got There

“And the tapestry above / Torn down, trampled then re-hung / Now illegible forever / An oracle with no tongue/ All of this, all of this / All of this before I got there”

I think this song so perfectly mirrors Kristen’s relationship with both Cassandra and Ankarna. Like, both of them had been corrupted and used to further other people’s evil plans with no regard to their original followers’ intent. Until Kristen arrived. Until she lovingly restored them to their original forms with such respect to why they were created, and her compassion is one of my favorite things about her character.

2. Riz Gukgak - Ground Level

“You can light a cigarette / against the cooktop if you need to / feel the heat against your forehead / let it bleed through / you’re never gonna get by / on three hours of sleep a night / unless you absolutely have to / and then you get by alright.”

I almost picked Bones Don’t Rust, which you should also add to your Riz character playlist but I went with this one instead. We see Riz take up smoking in Junior Year, we see him not sleeping and overworking himself throughout the series, and I think a lot of that does come from a place of going beyond his breaking point, steadfastly refusing to break, and thinking that means he’s okay.

3. Fabian Seacaster - Wage Wars Get Rich Die Handsome / Great Pirates

I’m cheating and giving Fabian two songs because he changes so much throughout the series. Here’s the first one:

“Stay independent, make adjustments as needed / it’s losers all the way down, you stay undefeated / wage wars, get rich, die handsome.”

I think this song is peak Fabian from Freshman Year. It references motorcycle riding, the narrator genuinely thinks he’s such hot shit, and I mean like, come on. Wage wars, get rich, die handsome. It’s literally perfect. But Fabian grows. He changes. So here’s the second song I picked for him:

“On the morning when I stop looking back / I’ll be up to see the sunrise in deep, bruise black / And bright, blood red / And pale desert rose / And several other colors like those / great pirates, testing the waves.”

Okay, so obviously it was fun to use a Mountain Goats song with pirates in it, but also, I interpret this song as being about moving on from your past and looking towards an uncertain future. So much of Fabian’s arc has been him figuring out who he is beyond his dad’s legacy, and so I think this song works really well with that. (I probably could have picked any Jenny from Thebes song and it would have a lot of those themes, but come on, pirates!)

4. Fig Faeth - Cry for Judas

“Speed up to the precipice / and then slam on the breaks / some people crash two or three times / And then learn from their mistakes / But we are the ones who don’t slow down at all / and there’s nobody there to catch us when we fall.”

I think Fig’s self destructive tendencies are more evident early on in the series (see: all her affairs with middle-aged men) but honestly, the way she puts herself on the front lines again and again for her friends is just as destructive imo. Also, this song gives such difficult child-energy, and I think sometimes this is how Sandralynn sees her. This kid who didn’t deal with her curse because it didn’t seem important when her friends had other things going on. This kid who skips her classes, is straight-edge except for drugs. This kid who was knocked unconscious in her first combat and wanted everyone to think she spent the whole time fighting.

5. Adaine Abernant - Up the Wolves

“I’m gonna get myself in fighting trim / scope out every angle of unfair advantage / I’m gonna bribe the officials, I’m gonna kill all the judges / It’s gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage.”

Trigger warning to those who need it: Sunset Tree is about abuse, which is obviously quite prevalent in Adaine’s arc Freshman/Sophomore Year. It was between this and Lion’s Teeth. What I like about this song for Adaine is that it is tragic, of course it’s tragic, but it also shows her rage, not just for herself but for Aelwyn too. This is a girl who took what her parents did to her and said that’s not fair and punched her dad so hard in the face that he died. I also think that given how Adaine’s relationship with her mother is so much more complicated, the other parts of this song work well with that.

6. Gorgug Thistlespring - The Slow Parts on Death Metal Albums

“Drive home alone and listen to the slow parts / In a new universe / trying to find the mask that still fits me / shaking the curse.”

I’m gonna be so real, I really struggled with this one because I just don’t relate to Gorgug as much, but I’m so infatuated with the idea that he listens to the slow parts of death metal albums, and I do think that this song, to me, fits the fact that Gorgug doesn’t really fit the roles anyone expects from him. He’s not just a mindless raging half-orc, he’s also kind and shy and gentle and loving. But he does have a lot of rage and he reacts violently at times and his parents love him but they don’t always know what to do with that.

Bonus song! Jawbone - Midland

“Come and stay with me as long as you like / I live outside of town where the straight highway curves / three years I lived next door to the airport / so nothing you can say to me can get on my nerves.”

Jawbone collects fucked up teens like pokemon cards, so I every time I hear this song I think of him. Also, the way the narrator of this song gives the subject time and space to go through things and assures them that yeah, I’ll still be here, is so very Jawbone-coded imo. Also, later in the song, he says “stay till you can grieve like normal people do / I’ve got room, room in my house for you.” Like, every line of this song is just so Jawbone I need y’all to understand.

Bonus song #2! The Bad Kids - When a Powerful Animal Comes

“Speak in gestures only we can understand / we’ve made mistakes / everyone spots their own mess / when the dawn breaks / we get so exhausted / lost kids, just wasted / sleep in short shifts then rise to our feet / life is short and life is hard and life is sweet.”

This song is the most Bad Kids shit I’ve ever heard in my life. If it’s not in your Bad Kids playlist, you gotta add it now and Weary Adventures by Skull Puppies haha anyway It’s just literally so perfect. It’s just these kids with the weight of the world on their shoulders, so fucking tired of saving the world. It’s literally the overall arc of Junior Year!

[moonibinbon]

Missing writing them (blorbos) but need to focus on other things (life under capitalism)

[natjennie]

i think mostly we as a culture need to stop pretending media is for us and instead recognize that it's for the people making it. "the show didn't do the thing I wanted it to" is so not the point. did it do what the people making it wanted it to do? did it tell the story they were trying to tell? than it was successful. if that doesn't align with what you wanted to happen, don't get up in arms about it. don't badmouth the creators and throw a tantrum. that's what fan works are for. the text is the text, and it told the story it was telling. you wouldn't be like "ugh shakespeare is insane for act v btw like there was no reason for juliet to kill herself she should've just waited and then her and romeo could have been together wtf this ruined the whole play" like no!!! the themes were there the set-up was there the foreshadowing was there shakespeare did what he intended to. just because it wasn't a happy ending and just because you thought it should've went differently doesn't mean it was bad. read a fic where juliet lives and move on.

[evanescentsun]

SSBDAY2 | Time Capsule

During spring cleaning with the Uzumaki, Sarada unexpectedly comes across a picture that Nanadaime took post-mission after seeing how Sasuke n Sakura fell asleep like that<3

[spacedlexi]

speaking of fucked up overly hated female twdg characters i find it Super Interesting how people will say carver was the best villain in the whole series, but when lilly is literally just a successful carver (iron fist leader of a community turning children into soldiers) suddenly shes a bad/lame villain for some reason 🤔

[chocottang]

the more i think abt goldica the more i like it

[nerdie-faerie]

You're telling me Kol would use his empty hand to grab the second stake, leaving both hands occupied against any further attacks, without dropping either? You're telling me a thousand year old vampire who's been on the run from an Original hunter his entire immortality, would make that mistake?

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

hmmm should i go through all of the dramas and musicals and other dn medias to compare light's wardrobes there as well as from the anime and manga or is that too much work

[mellowmaidenhairs]

adventure time movie can be promising depending on premise but am i the only one kind of iffy on a prequel series of which the synopsis atm is just “finn and jake fight monsters” especially since we’re already getting a s2 of the OTHER spinoff who’s main plot was already hastily wrapped up in the really short first season

[brittlebutch]

Desperately trying to make sense of Alex's motivations in Season Two and you know, I do eventually have to wonder if maybe Alex wasn't actually lying in the majority of those tapes.

Like, we tend to assume that Alex's motivations have been a consistent throughline since the college years, but do we actually know that that's the case? Do we know for sure that Alex was acting in deliberate, calculated ways in 2006; or could it be that he's telling the Truth on those olds tapes when he says he's blacking out and can't remember what's happening to anyone? After all, if we're assuming that Season 2 Alex's motivations are the exact same as his motives in Season 3, then it doesn't make any sense at all that he spend months working with Jay to try to find Amy; Season 3 Alex would have attempted to kill Jay like, on sight just to get things over with as quickly as possible and contain the spread of contamination as best as he could.

But, maybe, if Alex really had been separated from Amy after the events of the 04-04-10 tape, and if he really doesn't know where she is, then maybe that could make things start to make more sense. Maybe he really had been watching Jay's channel, and seeing Jay start going through the same things he went through in college without things devolving into violence and disappearances, and wondered if things maybe could play out differently this time. Maybe he really did send that tape to Jay to ask him for help, maybe he really was just trying to find Amy.

But then, instead of actually being helpful, Jay makes it extremely clear that he's a lot more interested in stalking Alex than he is in finding Amy. Alex asked for help, and instead there's a bunch of masked dudes on Jay's heels that keep attacking him, Jay is breaking into his house, stealing his things, leading the Operator right to him all over again, keeps trying to get other people (namely: Jessica -- if Alex is being honest when he says that his call reassuring her that Amy had been found was an effort to make Sure she stayed away from everything that was happening) involved; and instead of anything getting better, instead of anyone finding Amy, things are just getting worse all over again.

It's not until after the incident at the tunnel that things seem to start rapidly devolving. Rather than a calculated attempt to finally follow through with his need to curb the spread of contamination, this is very clearly an outburst of rage and terror. Alex's "I told you not to follow me" line in conjunction with Jay speculating that Alex didn't know who that guy was, to me, pretty firmly seems to speak to Alex having mistaken that stranger for Jay. From his point of view, Alex knows that Jay and totheark know where he live, have broken in before, he suspects that Jay stole a key to make it easier to get into his house, and he's been followed on the daily for months -- Alex is sitting at the tunnel because he doesn't know where else he can go without being constantly surveilled, hunted, and assaulted. And instead of getting a moment by himself to breathe, Jay followed him out there all over again (it feels like Alex looks directly at the camera in Jay's footage of him from this day; he knew for a fact that Jay was there), and then to make matters worse now 'Jay' won't even keep his distance anymore.

So Alex lashes out. And it's not until afterwards that he looks down and finally recognizes that this wasn't Jay -- it was someone completely innocent. Things have finally reached the low point he was at in college all over again; maybe even worse this time. If Alex doesn't remember attacking anyone in college, but he was at least partially conscious of it this time, then things have reached an entirely new rock bottom, they've reached an absolute point of no return.

He has no idea what happened to Amy, and he's spent months trying to find her with no hint of where she could be; he doesn't know where Jay actually is or what additional trouble he could be causing at this point; he does know that now innocent people are getting caught in the crossfire (in regards to the stranger in the tunnel, and also Jessica now that Jay has her phone number, and the untold number of people Jay got involved when he started posting videos to the Marble Hornets channel); things are spiraling out of control and there's no one left to ask for help. The situation isn't getting better, it's getting worse; things aren't getting easier to handle, they're just getting more out of hand; the negative impact is spreading and who knows how much further it can still go?

So, Alex decides to go scorched earth. He disfigures the body with the rock either to hide evidence or to make sure the guy would actually stay dead and not just get back up to start his own cycle of contamination in a few years. He tries to give Jay one last chance to back off, and Jay instead admits he's been talking to Jessica, acts obstinate and lies about not having Alex's spare key, and then breaks into Alex's house a second time (minimum). If Alex doesn't stop him now, who will? Alex met with Jay planning to kill the others, and then himself, so he could put a stop to this once and for all and keep things from getting any worse than they already were.

Maybe it makes a lot more sense if, rather than being a strangely incomprehensible detour on what should have been a straight path, the events of Season Two were the breaking point that put Alex on that path to begin with.

[bayofwolves]

I’ve been obsessed, obsessed, obsessed with Raisha for a while now. I know you’ve said little things about her in the past and i want to know what’s up with her/Gerathon if you’d be willing to talk about it.

I really like Raisha as a character, too! We know so little about her, but in my opinion, she's one of the most fascinating characters in the series. Unfortunately, she meets a sad end in A Revised History of Erdas.

All we know about Raisha post-infection is that she was present at the final battle in The Burning Tide, still under Zerif's control and in pretty bad shape. She vanishes off the grid after that, never mentioned again, not even in the concluding montage of Great Beast summoners reuniting with their fallen spirit animals. My retelling offers some closure, but not the good kind.

In my version of events, Raisha is flanking Zerif when he emerges from the ship with his Great Beasts. Zerif, in an act of cruel irony, saw fit to keep Raisha by his side even in her mindless, infected state. Shane, up in the archers' keep with Abeke, hardly recognizes the girl who helped steal Halawir months earlier. Later, she reappears to restrain Abeke when Zerif brings the defeated Redcloak forces to the Wyrm. When the Wyrm is killed and the parasites lose their power, though, Raisha collapses to the ground and doesn't get back up. The Wyrm had pushed her finite body to an extent that it couldn't recover from. Many people and animals in Zerif's army are the same; their possession eventually killed them. The Wyrm was a child playing with toys, the mechanics of which it couldn't possibly understand. Thankfully for it, its parasites could go on controlling a body in the event of an untimely death. Indeed, Stead raises the possibility that Raisha had been dead for some time, and the parasite was only animating a corpse.

Like I've said before, I didn't do this out of dislike for Raisha or anything like that. She was ultimately another victim of Zerif -- a young, lonely, impressionable girl he took advantage of -- and didn't deserve anything that happened to her. I'll always support AUs where she is alive and well. In my eyes, though, her story was always meant to end in tragedy. By the time she realized her mistake and reached for the light, it was too late.

Gerathon, after reemerging in Southern Zhong and feeling the loss of her human partner, disappeared into the brush and is currently at large. She is only an adolescent cobra at the moment, hardly a threat... but the Great Beasts are growing, and Gerathon's time will inevitably come again. (I like the idea of her becoming a maneater as she slowly regains her former size and power, terrorizing the locals and gaining a place in their legends.) Who knows how she feels about losing Raisha. I expect, under the excruciating pain that may one day drive her to madness, there is a sweet sense of relief.

[deoidesign]

please take as much time as you need to rest and recover. burn out is so hard and takes so much to heal from. your art and your supporters will still be here when you get back :) take care <3

Thank you very much

Unfortunately, my situation doesn't really allow me to take the time I need. I've got a ~two month hiatus scheduled for my midseason, but much like my first hiatus I'll most likely be working double time during it...

It's unfortunate because I could really really use a bigger break!

Having the time and flexibility to work on other projects really fires me up and keeps me going, and being able to take a guilt free day off for family and friends is necessary to my mental health, and I've been having to turn people down lately...

This is a very kind message, and I'm sorry to vent in response! But I just feel transparency about the pressure I'm under is necessary and important. I'd love to take the time I really need, but due to deadlines and that pesky "needing money to live" I can't.

But, once the series is over I intend to take a pretty big break before I start whatever I'm doing next! I've got so many short stories and projects planned that I want so badly to get to, I can't wait to really get to truly dive in to them!