#excerpt from an unfinished book

[villainhore]

— repentance, seduction and monstrous needs

from my wip. strangely one of my favourites

[adriana345905]

maybe i’m not meant to fall in love with anyone. maybe i’m meant to fall in love with myself. fall in love with life and everything it has to offer. or maybe i am just saying that because i am afraid to end up alone.

[soul-xhoney]

1:10

You’re still the one I think of when I have things to tell; and when I wore your sweatshirt yesterday I realized how much I missed your smell. It lingered…

Like all the things I’ve mentally made note of since the day we met, it stained my brain the way we stained your counter with the red wine we drank

Or the way I’d stand to lock your hair after a late afternoon beach run; like the touch of your warm skin that embraces me like the sun

Like the words to the song you wrote, the art drew or the sculpture you made; the look on your face when you showed me

You linger…

[nostalgicforthe1990s]

Swimming in your fishbowl

My eyes like saucers

Cigarettes come in vending machines

They don’t card at this motel

Started off as heaven

I’ve ended up in hell

I’ll climb through your broken window

Cut my arm on the ledge

Marlboro reds

Night creeping

Skinny dipping in the lake

We drove out the state

Undercover Martyr

New York was a mistake

Coffee for one

Pancakes for two

That’s all I remember

I’m scared I’m forgetting you

We were on the cusp of a dream

[theloveronthemoon]

I cry myself to suffocation

The anguish clogging my throat

Lungs burning, weeping alongside me

The terror builds

And Sobs still rack through

[bloodyparagraphs]

Voices of characters I Will Never Complete

No, I do not want the truth from you. I wanted to continue to live in the lie that was “us”, “you and me”, and “us against the world”. It was all that I had. Your “truth” was never true at all. It was malicious. Instead of the truth, now all I have is “your truth”. “This is who I am; I made a mistake, but I am human; I am allowed to.” The truth is suppose to be the blade that cuts cord from our wrists, not the blade you drive into another’s heart.The shocking thing is not that you betrayed me, but that you would deny me the decency of a lie. I was so worthless that you could look me in my eyes and be so unashamed of your actions, “your truth”. -Paragraphs(04.01.2023)

[unfinishedscript]

How do you "detached" yourself from something that has been going on too long? Too long like you think it's "forever". You know, like that line on your wall in your bedroom that has been there "forever"; the picture hanging in the living room since like "forever" ; the stain on that sofa that's been there "forever" for as long as you remembered, which your parents don't even bother to clean it anymore.

You know, the forever.

For the line, it's probably crack of the wall. Either you fix it or it's getting bigger. As for the picture, well if you decide to take it down, you will see the color that not match, between the other area of the wall and the area where the picture used to be. And for the stain on the sofa, it's probably way too long, there is no way it can be as clean as new now. There is only one choice.

To let it go and find the new one.

So, is it the same with our relationship? Which choice should I make?

[celestesloveletters]

I look at her. She’s here. I know her presence, but she can never know about mine.

[flanaganfilm]

Midnight Mass - excerpt from the original 2010 novel

A few people have asked about Midnight Mass back when it was a novel. That was my first stab at telling the story of Crockett Island back in 2010. I made it a ways into the book before pivoting and trying to write it as a script, and then broke it again as a series in 2014, more half a decade before we'd finally start making it for Netflix.

I dug up the old, unfinished manuscript from 2010 (some day I may try to finish it). It's got some spelling and grammatical errors, but I was surprised to see that some of the early scenes made it all the way to the screen relatively unaltered. Here's a little taste of what those pages looked like, and how at least one scene arrived in the series a decade later almost entirely unchanged...

[wisteria-blooms]

Hey! I just finished long hair and tattoos and it's be a lie if i say it wasn't one of the best fics I've ever read! I'm in love with the fic, the slow burn, the sibling banter with Draco (for first time ever Malfoy family was tolerable) the chemistry with twins and everything else!! Also I'm so bummed because I was expecting some steamy smut (not too late to add an smutty chapter don't you think?) But as I said I love it soooooo much and thank you for this amazing fic!! ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much!! I'm glad you enjoyed the family dynamics/banter. I love the idea of an uppity family having to deal with their daughter's upsetting choice of.... boyfriend. And having the twins as your supportive but devious best friends is the dream.

So, speaking of smut... I wrote the series before I got around to reading more and realized all/most romance books have an obligatory smut scene. I recently wrote strawberry wonderland (ii) from Bill's perspective. I think it was a horny outlet for me. But I think I can wedge something else in... so stay tuned.

I have two possible Bill Weasley smut fics in the works. I'm happy to share some excerpts but it's all unfinished, unedited drafts... so be warned. MINORS DNI.

The first one is called empty bars:

“Our department’s budget is going up.” You changed the topic, not wanting to know what anyone was saying about you. “You remember that Perce and I work together, right? As soon as we got wind of the good news, we went out for a glass of wine.”

Bill raised his eyebrows. “You got Percy out for wine?”

You did a little shimmy of victory. For once, there was a genuine smile on your face. “I know what makes him tick, I guess.”

When the bartender came back, noticing your drained glasses, Bill called for another round.“You’re quick,” he remarked. “I didn’t know someone like you could handle so much liquor.”

“You’ll have to try me,” you said with a smile. “I’m in the mood nowadays, I guess.”

Bill leaned back and took another sip. You watched his lips tight around the glass, and you wistfully wished they were around something else. Something more receptive.

“How ironic that Percy is the only one with any taste?” he laughed blithely, his tone suddenly sharp and biting. “Besides me, that is."

“What do you mean?” you asked, but you knew what he was talking about. The light overhead did no good in concealing the blush that was spreading over your cheeks.

You were intimidated by his gaze, so you focussed on the spare hand on the whiskey glass. The sheer size of his hand made the glass look like a child’s plaything. He could make the circumference of your bare waist amount to nothing if he wanted. You know what you wanted to.

“You know very well what I mean,” he stated, his right eye creasing into a half-wink as he stared over you. Then he set his whiskey glass down and leaned over to you and whispered, his lip just inches from the skin of your cheek, his voice butter, “Don’t play coy, (Y/N).”

“I am not,” you retorted weakly. His words drew some goosebumps. Was Bill Weasley flirting with you or were you so touch-deprived that you were wrongly assuming so? You turned around to face him, trying to stand by your words but you were unravelling quick. His eyes were so gorgeous. He was so close you could identify hazel specks near the rim of blue.

A delicious smirk unraveled on the eldest Weasley’s face. It looked so good that you wanted to fucking kiss it off him. “Are you the type of woman that likes things spelled out for you?”

“No,” you countered quietly. You were so nervous that you were chugging your liquor instead of cherishing it, but if it meant breaking free of any social constraints, you were happy to almost be done your second.

“Let me verbalize it, then. Look at yourself.” You couldn’t follow his demand. You were too busy looking at Bill still, indulging in his strong nose bridge down to his slightly chapped lips. You were burning, dying, to kiss them. “You’re young, accomplished, hard-working, successful, smart, and beautiful.”

You wondered if he’d performed Legilimens on you, because you’d said the same thing to yourself moments earlier. Now you were more than concerned if he could read your mind because his hand had travelled up the slit of your dress, gently caressing your bare thigh, and your mind was a mess of nervous neurons.

“I could say the same for you,” you complimented. ‘Weak,’ you chided yourself. You were going to lose Bill’s attention with your attempt at flirting and go home alone tonight.

“Unlike some of my brothers, I turned out pretty alright, didn’t I?”

“One is a genetic train-wreck,” you said too quickly. You were immediately remorseful for the comment. Fred was still Bill’s brother—family. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” You gestured to your bartender, seeking a third round.

“I know what you mean,” Bill assured, his words unapologetic. “The greatest thing he’d ever had this entire life fell right onto his lap and he fucked up because of his own immaturity.” He didn’t even mention Fred by name but there was a shared knowledge that it was him you were talking about.

 His gaze was intense, ocean blue eyes darkening like the storm outside. “Do you know why that is, (Y/N)?”

Your breathing became laboured. “No.”

“It’s the sad state of being a boy,” he explained. You shouldn’t have, but you inched closer, letting Bill’s hand, thinly veiled from public view by a few degrees, travel dangerously higher up your thigh. “Let me show you what it’s like to with a man.”

The second one is called 'paradise potions'. IT'S THE SEX POLLEN TROPE, DON'T JUDGE ME.

He was still ever so handsome, with his soft ginger locks that framed his sharp cheekbones. His blue eyes glinted in the morning sun. You peeked at his chiseled jaw and his--dare you say--kissable lips. His t-shirt barely hid the muscles in his arms. He might’ve been tall and predisposed to being lankier compared to Charlie, but you knew he worked out plenty. 

You were so busy being entranced by Bill that you’d lost track of time and space. It was the best daydream, sitting in front of him, surrounded by faint windchimes and the chirping birds outside to the window. You were imagining a domesticated life with him here when suddenly--

A large explosion jolted you and Percy. You yelped and ducked. The others were unfazed.

“What was that?” you asked, trying to settle your heart. 

“Fred! George!” Molly cried, walking over to the stairs with her spatula still in hand. “What have I told you about your experiments?"

“Sorry, mum,” George said, running down the stairs, a smidge of ash on his face. “That’s it for today, I promise.”

“I don’t want to hear this again, ever!” Molly shrieked. Then, she calmed down when she realized she was in front of guests. “Well, if that’s it, then help out a little bit, won’t you? We have to get going in less than an hour.”

“Sure thing,” George said with a smile. He ran over to the table and to the coffee pot. He gave it a jiggle, letting the remaining liquid slosh around. “Anyone need a top up of their coffee?”

“Mum made that pot, you can trust it,” Percy advised.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, and then looked up at George, “I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

George sauntered over and poured you a cup. “Coffee, Bill?” he asked. 

“That sounds good,” Bill responded.

“You’ll have to wait another ten minutes then,” George said with a frown. He tapped the empty glass container. “I’ve just run out. If only (Y/N) didn’t drink for two.”

“Quit it,” Percy warned with a low tone. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You were about to offer Bill your cup when Percy held out a hand to stop you. 

“Keep it,” Percy countered as she shoved the white mug back to your side. “I wouldn’t trust anything they put out. I’m glad it’s you that took the last of what mum made.”

While Percy could be harsh on his siblings, you were grateful for his looking out for you. To be fair, you were also skittish around Fred and George. They weren’t as easy to read as other people. A friendly smile could mean something sinister. 

Then...

Bill raised his hips up to help you bring the last bit of his undergarments down. You closed your eyes when you felt something whip out in front of your face. 

Well, Bill was clearly very well-endowed. You had nothing but anatomical pictures and the circumference of your wrist to compare him to, but even you knew he was bigger than average. Not only was his cock hefty and veiny, but his balls were very present. 

“I reckon I was cursed or hexed by someone,” he concluded. “It’s not like me to be so….”

He gestured to his raging erection. “Can you… do you mind?” He attempted to lift his hands, but they gravitated down to the bed. “I’ve tried but it’s made it worse, and now I can’t even manage to move my arm.”

“I’ve never, erm,” you started. A rush of heat kissed your cheeks. You didn’t want to admit to Bill that Fred was right and you were a virgin. You reckoned he would’ve found it uncool. “I’ve never done this with anyone.”

He chuckled suavely. “I figured.”

You wanted to shrivel up and die. 

“But it’s fine,” he said quickly, knowing he’d offended you slightly. “You don’t need to have done it to know how to do it. I’ll guide you."

“Grip your hand firmly down here.” You obliged, holding him at the base. For an usually flaccid body part, Bill was very, very hard and warm. All the blood in his body must’ve concentrated into one area. You were grateful when your thumb overlapped your other fingers, because, well, he was quite big and you weren’t sure he was going to fit in your hand. 

“Move up and down,” he said. When you started shifting your hand from the base to the tip, he let out a low groan. “Yeah, just like that.” Precum touched the skin of your hand as you moved faster and covered more ground. 

You kissed the red and leaking tip. Bill let out an audible gasp that was swallowed by a moan. He was not expecting you to be so brazen. 

“How does that feel?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Good.”

You licked the precum--salty, you noted--off his slit. You enveloped your mouth around his tip and focused there. 

“Fuck, (Y/N)!”

His hands were fully entangled in your hair as he guided you up and down. Tears welled up in your eyes when his cock hit the back of your mouth. Your cries were muffled. You shouldn’t be enjoying being used so much, but you loved it, especially when Bill held you in place and began thrusting into your mouth.

Yeah, these are all drafts. I hope to get them up soon!!

[cbrownjc]

The first part of my next fanfic in The Forgotten Years series, which I am writing with @faerywhimsy, is now done. Please check it out over on AO3.

Title: Half-Forgotten Dreams

Pairings: Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Louis (past), Armand/Louis (past), Armand/Daniel/Louis (past), Lestat/Louis (past)

Summary: Though his interview with Louis is now at its end, Daniel continues to regain memories of his past that reveal things he’s not prepared to face.

End of Season Two — Show Canon with Book Canon Elements — Daniel’s POV

ACT I (of II) —  14,443 words — Mature

Warning: This story might contain possible spoilers for the end of Season Two (as it references later books in the series). If that is something you may want to avoid, please wait to read this story later. 

* * *

Excerpt:

Al Shafar Tower, Dubai, United Arab Emirates, June 30, 2022, 1:08 a.m.

“And so now? The only thing before me now is to go on, night after night. Detached. Unchangeable. Empty.” 

Once again, Daniel listened to the recording of the final words spoken by Louis just a few hours before.

After all the drama, twists and turns, and painful remembrances and revelations, Daniel Molloy’s interview with the vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac was now over. Finished. 

Once he had spoken those final words, Louis had quietly risen from his chair in the sitting room and disappeared down a hallway, without so much as another word to Daniel. 

The Vampire Armand, too, had only paused for a few moments after Louis had departed before taking his leave as well, also without a word to Daniel.  

It was late, and Daniel was already way past when he should have already gone to bed. He was feeling drowsy and his Parkinson’s tremors were always worse at night when he was tired and still awake at such an hour. 

However, the fact that the interview was now, officially over, didn’t feel like a relief. Or even some great unfinished accomplishment that he’d finally finished, and could cross off a bucket list. 

No. What Daniel mostly felt about it all, at the moment, was a strange sort of . . . sorrow. 

He didn’t feel celebratory about having uncovered all the hidden truths and obfuscation that had been thrown his way since the moment he walked through the door of the Dubai Penthouse. Usually when catching an interview subject trying to do such things, Daniel took an almost sadistic delight in upending the person in question, trapping them into at least facing the truth — a truth Daniel always made sure he knew as well, with facts on hand to back it up, before he did so — even if they remained loathed to admit that truth to him or themselves.

However, after all the truths that were finally revealed during Louis de Pointe du Lac’s interview, all Daniel felt about it now, was melancholy. 

Daniel Molloy wouldn’t have believed it of himself just two weeks ago but after this interview, with Louis’ final words, Daniel felt himself almost wishing he’d just let Louis hold onto the illusions he’d built around himself about everything that had happened.

Especially regarding Claudia, his never-sister and forever-daughter. Claudia, who had broken Louis’ heart, (maybe even more than Lestat had), and who was now gone forever.      

It was strange how, after everything, Daniel now felt a kind of kinship toward Louis. Even a real sense of trust now. He couldn’t say how or when it had come about, but it was there.  

Louis had never lied to him about things in the beginning with any malicious intent behind it. Once his true memories began to reveal themselves, Louis didn’t try to hide from them anymore. He faced them, despite the utter pain it caused him to do so. 

And Daniel couldn’t help but admire, and have his heart go out to Louis for that.

Which was very much not the same feelings Daniel held toward Louis’ erstwhile vampire companion Armand.

When the full truth about Armand’s role in Claudia’s fate had been revealed — specifically what acts he’d committed in the lead into her final fate — had been revealed, Daniel had listened to it all with the same cold and quiet dispassion Armand had displayed in his telling of it. 

However, underneath that, Daniel had also continued to be confused by the five-centuries-old immortal, just as he had been after both he and Louis had revealed Armand’s true identity to him after the Rashid subterfuge.     

Even before now, Daniel had wondered what Rashid’s true goal and endgame were regarding Louis — regarding all of this.

And now, after the interview was concluded, Daniel still didn’t know.

And not knowing, not having figured it out when he was now at the end of it all, continued to pick at his mind. None of it was helped by the fact that Armand had been playing a major role in all the lost memories Daniel had never known, until now, that he’d even forgotten. Events from after the failed first interview with Louis back in 1973. 

Every time Daniel closed his eyes, it wasn’t only his forever-reoccurring dream he saw behind them now. The reoccurring dream — or more accurately, nightmare —  he’d been having off and on since 2005. 

No. Now, along with that, it would also be some forgotten memory flooding back to him, returning to him, as well.

And he knew they were memories. They always felt more real, more tangible, than his dreams did. 

[ Read on AO3 ]

[wasjustred]

See Me After Class (Excerpt)

Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x femprof!Reader

Warnings: Approaching smut territory but stops just before it gets explicit ;-) sowwy

Word Count: ~1k (unfinished, final total TBD)

Author’s Note: Wanted to post this excerpt from a one-shot I’m working on just to get a feel for the readership... Hopefully I’m on the right track. Let me know if you wanna see more ♡ 

Update: You can read the final version here!

“You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.”

You allow the air to settle before prodding your students, perched comfortably against the front edge of your desk. “Someone explain for us what Lord Henry meant by this.” The usual array of hands shoot up, eager and willing as they are, swaying discreetly in anticipation of being called upon. It’s everything you had hoped for before starting this job; you spent weeks prepping lesson plans and brushing up on Outcast literature before your official interview had even been scheduled, losing sleep and your appetite equally over the thought that you might not secure the position, and almost more so that if you did, the students wouldn’t take to you. But this sight… it is as reaffirming as any.

With a modest hope of hearing from someone new, your eyes roam the rows and columns of seated students. But it’s an unexpected figure who draws your attention to the far back:

“Headmistress Weems.. Please, indulge us.” You gesture widely with an open palm.

Your nonchalance frankly betrays the anxiety her presence brings. Another observation so soon after the first? And so early in the term? You have to wonder if one of your students has complained, or perhaps another professor. Were you doing a bad job? Were your lessons subpar?

It’s clear, though, that despite her authority Weems is embarrassed to have been caught, even more so to have been called out on it so unceremoniously. Perhaps you’re not as powerless here as you thought …

The blonde pulls back her shoulders and levels her gaze on you. “Well. It has been a minute, but if I’m not mistaken, I do believe Lord Henry was referring to Dorian’s seemingly virtuous nature. By all accounts, we desire and are captivated by the things we refuse ourselves.” She continues, arching a brow, “I believe Lord Henry also said that ‘the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself’. It is both a warning and a call to pleasure.”

Any surprise you might have felt at Larissa’s adeptness, any residual apprehension at her presence, is easily overpowered by the sudden and shameless wave of heat that comes to rest between your thighs. She must notice as she grins wickedly at your attempt to play it off, crossing one ankle over the other and lowering the open book in front of your lap.

“Very good. I’m glad to see your Nevermore education paid off.” Sparse chuckles crop up from your students as the final bell announces the official end of the school day. They waste no time in rushing past each other towards the door, and you’re glumly aware that your calls to read the next two chapters for class tomorrow fall on deaf ears.

“I didn’t realize Mr. Wilde was still part of the curriculum.” Larissa follows the steps down past your students’ desks and comes to rest in front of you, hands clasped behind her.

“And yet you’ve proven yourself to be a remarkably apt student. Impressive.” Your eyes twinkle. The degree at which you have to tilt your head back is not an unpleasant one, stretching muscles that had already been whining after the hour-long class session. You break eye contact briefly to reach behind you and toss the worn copy of today’s topic on your desk, and in that short timespan Larissa evidently decides to test your professional resolve.

“Remarkable students are rewarded for their diligence, are they not?” You swivel back to her, brows raised.

… intriguing. Hot, even, you have to admit.

“Was it diligence, or pure luck?” Larissa scrunches her nose at this response, clearly - amusingly - displeased.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been reading at the pace of your lesson plans.”

“So you did know Mr. Wilde was ‘still part of the curriculum’?”

“... I don’t appreciate your tone, Ms. L/N.” Larissa looms over you, forcing you back against the edge of your desk. Your hands instinctively shoot out behind you, white-knuckling the oak in an attempt to keep yourself steady (both mentally and physically). Your brain rapidly ricochets between processing how little space remains between the two of you and the fact that the school’s principal, your boss, Larissa, has taken to following your lessons plans of her own volition.

“All due respect, you do pay me to read between the lines, Headmistress Weems,” you respond. She seems pleased with this, a puff of warm air landing against your lips as she chuckles. Your fingers twitch against your desk. If you stretched them out, there’s a chance you’d reach her, brushing against the clothed expanse of her thigh.

“You have a very interesting understanding of what you’ve been hired to do here.”

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.” Larissa closes the leftover distance, reaching long fingers up to grasp the tip of your chin. It feels like whatever air you can get here, eye-level with her chest, is trapped in your lungs. “.. look at me, darling.”

It takes everything within you not to moan once you meet her gaze and realize she looks absolutely ravenous: pupils blown, tongue running slowly along the length of her bottom lip as she watches you. Chest rising and falling in time with her rapid heartbeat.

“Oh.”

Your lips meet in a hot, desperate clash of tongue and teeth, no indication as to who moved first. You grasp wildly at her forearms, shoulders, neck - any stretch of skin you can dig your fingertips into, pushing yourself up as tall as you can to reach further into her. A phone rings somewhere off to your left and you grunt, shoving the contents of your desk off to the side in a clatter. Larissa laughs.

“Eager, are we?” Before you can form a coherent response she’s making a grab for your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the top of the desk and parting your legs as she comes to stand between them.

[adriana345905]

why am i always the girl you take advantage of before you meet THE girl? am i doing something wrong? god i wish i knew.

[nostalgicforthe1990s]

In a past life I was with you. Blurred flashbacks, too crowded streets. Wandering through New York, bare feet. You carried my shoes, I smoked Marlboro reds. Stumbling drunk, too many voices in my head.

I knew it was a long shot - but it wasn’t long enough.

[foodfightnovelization]

Things I'm Not Allowed To Talk About Yet; or How I Learned More About Foodfight! Than I Ever Thought I Would

Okay, so I'm just going to come right out and say it; I know a lot more about Foodfight! than I've let on in this blog. Like, a LOT more. Shortly after I wrote my original series of posts cataloguing the novelization and various other Foodfight! trivia, I was contacted online by someone named Ziggy Cashmere. He'd been working on a book called Drawing For Nothing, exploring the history of unfinished and underappreciated animated films (with a chapter on Foodfight! among its many pages), as well as a full-on documentary about the movie called "ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight".

Obviously me being the fan of Foodfight! that I am, I wanted to be a part of it in any way that I could. We talked for a while along with another Foodfight! fan in an internet chatroom appropriately titled "Foodfight Obsessives" and fast became friends. Since then I've been shown an early script I never thought I'd see, videos containing behind-the-scenes footage I never dreamed ANYONE would see, and interviews with people who worked on the movie I never imagined anyone would be able to track down. I've seen so much stuff over the past few months and it's been SO EXCITING... but I'm not allowed to talk about it, share any of it, or show anyone just yet! Gah!

It's been SO HARD keeping quiet about this for as long as I have, but since a trailer for the documentary has been up on YouTube for a while, I just wanted to let the cat out of the bag and preemptively say before it comes out: yes I knew about this, I've seen everything that's going to be in the documentary and it's fascinating, yes I was involved in it (in a very minor sense- I have a small cameo and helped with some of the research, Ziggy did 95% of the work) and it's going to be AMAZING. Ziggy's work on this is streets ahead of anything I've managed to do with this blog- the production materials he's dug up and the crewmembers he's managed to get in touch with are nothing short of incredible, and the amount of work that's gone into this is insane. It's like those true crime podcasts where a journalist talks to the victims of some decade-old crime, but instead of a murder case it's a below-average animated children's movie.

Everything Ziggy has on the movie (documents, video footage, pictures, interviews, the whole shebang) will be released alongside the documentary, so don't feel like you're missing out- you'll get to see everything soon enough, and I promise it'll be worth the wait. "ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight" answers the decade-long mystery about Foodfight! as best, if not better than any one person possibly could, and closes the book on what happened behind the scenes on this enigma of a movie once and for all. I'm seriously SO excited for it to be out so I can talk about all the crazy things I've seen, you have NO idea what's in store for you guys. Check out the trailer here:

And if you can't wait for the documentary to come out, you'll see a preview of the kind of thing you can expect in his book, Drawing For Nothing. It's a fascinating free ebook with behind the scenes trivia and concept art from all kinds of lost and forgotten animated movies from over the years (for example, there's a chapter dedicated to Joe Jump, a Disney movie that eventually ended up becoming Wreck It Ralph) It's genuinely a work of art, and speaks strongly to my passion of films that feel like they deserve a second chance.

There's a fantastic chapter on Foodfight! showing off concept art, storyboards, unreleased merchandise and excerpts from an early draft of the script- it's truly fantastic. For example, check out this concept art for the Asian food aisle! I think pieces like this really show more than anything the strength of Foodfight!'s core concept, and how genuinely phenomenal of a movie it could've been were it managed better.

So I highly recommend you check out the book, and stay tuned for ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight, because it's gonna be one hell of a ride. I'll make a much more in-depth post about it once it's out and I can actually talk about the contents of the documentary, but for now it's Tiffany Amber, strawberry jamming out of here!

[rey-jake-therapist]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗 (i don't know if you do these sorts of chain-letter things, or if you'd prefer not to, but for my part i do like to know which of their works a given author is especially hype on, so consider this an opportunity to gush!)

Well I've only got 6 fics available online so it's going to be easy to answer that LOL I used to have more, all Reylo fics, but one day I took them all off because 1) they were my first and last experience at writing "AUs" aka at playing dolls with characters I never really shipped in their canon universe (sorry for those who like them but I really don't get the popularity of that ship) 2) they were constantly snubbed so I thought I was a hack who couldn't write. Wrong fandom + imposter syndrome = I woke up one morning and went through a destruction phase. I kept the fics in my docs though. There's one I think I could convert into an original story.... One day 🤣

But back to the subject: I'll start to class them by personal preference rather than by fandom, so sorry if it looks a bit messy... Like the inside of my head haha.

Rise and Shine (The Sandman/Sweetbitter crossover)

I wrote this one as a gift for Tom Sturridge 💜 There was a girl on Twitter who had the wonderful idea of putting together a book containing fan art, fan letters and short fics, with the purpose of giving it to Tom when she'd meet him at the Basinkton Con. So I came up with this one shot, where Jake from Sweetbitter meets Dream of the Endless. Definitely my favorite work.

2. Lost Souls (Sweetbitter)

It's an unfinished project but it's my 2nd favorite fic. I just love this story and even though it's quite clear that I lost my audience lately, probably because I spend too much time on my characters' personal story and not enough on the romaaaaance for most of fanfic readers, I like very much the direction it's taking. I'm actually considering dropping it as a fanfic and turning it into an original novel. Lately I've been sick as hell and unable to write a line, but I thought a lot about this fanfiction thing: I don't get the hang of it. I tried, and tried, but I can't seem to grasp what the average fanfic reader wants. And Lost Souls, well, with a few changes I think I can easily make it an original story. Not to mention that "Jake", yikes.... I really don't like that name. Anyway, I love this fic.

3. Dream a Little Dream of Us (The Sandman)

It's my version of "Johanna Constantine, Nuala the Elf and Hob Gadling walk into a bar..." Except it's happening after Morpheus' death, and they're all dreaming. It's a very sweet fic that I wrote for Sandtober 2023 and I like it very much:

4. It's So Cold (Sherlock, platonic Sherlolly)

I warned you it would be messy, didn't I? 🤣 For this one I put myself in Molly Hooper's shoes and tried to imagine remember how it felt to be in love with a man who doesn't love me.

5. Bitter Sweet Lullaby (The Sandman, Dream x OC)

This short "story" is in fact an excerpt from the Sandman fic I began writing several months ago but that I have reworked so it would stand on its own for Sandtober2023.

It tells a part of Dream's past, where a fae named Eleanora, the princess of Faery, made Dream happy. I'm sorry I can't tell you more about her and what happens to her because it would spoil the fun to come, except that she is post Endless Nights and pre-Vortex but pre-Titiana and pre-Alianora.

In this scene I also include Larri Bea’s lovely song ‘Dream’s lullaby’; as it was written specifically for Dream, it gave me the idea of having it sung to him by the woman he loved :)