Less than $2k to goal! Nola vid!


Hello all! We are currently at $3,368 out of $5,000 in the GoFundMe for me to get a service dog. Thank you so much to everyone who has donated and/or signal boosted! Donations have come in from signal boosts, so they do help!

As a treat, we have a video from Doggie Does Good. They recently hit 4,000 followers on their Instagram, so they recorded a thank you video with their current service dogs in training. Nola makes an appearance 8 seconds in (she’s the black dog in the back left of the group) and she continues to be adorable.

You can see the video over on the Doggie Does Good Instagram.

I’ll post more as I have it. Thank you again!

I don’t normally send these around, but this is a very special person in the fandom, who wrote one of my favorite collections of fanfic (see my tags for link) wayyyy back in the day. Still holds up after all this time! So I donated as a way to pay for her wonderful writing, that I would have loved to see as part of canon. If you can’t donate, please send this around, she’s close to meeting her goal! 

Dear longfic writers








  • If you sometimes feel like it was pure, ridiculous hubris that you ever started a story that would take so much work and persistence to finish, I promise you, you’re not alone.
  • If you feel like you’ve already been writing forever and the “good bits” are still ages away, you’re not alone.
  • If you’ve been stuck for days or weeks or longer because you know what happens later but you don’t know what happens next, you’re not alone.
  • If you’re desperate to squeal about your beloved OTP but you feel like you can’t, because spoilers, and it’s driving you nuts, you’re not alone.
  • If you feel like you’ll never finish and you’re bound to fuck it up somehow, you’re not alone.
  • If you wonder if you’ve sabotaged yourself because who’s going to click through to a 28 chapter WIP, you’re not alone.
  • If you feel like you’ve been pouring your life into a single story for ages and will be for ages still and you don’t know why anymore because hardly anyone seems to care, you’re not alone.
  • If you can hardly even plan the further-away parts of the story or even think about them because thinking about them reminds you how absurdly far you still have to go and you get massive anxiety, please believe me.  You are not alone.


Dear longfic writers

  • I fucking live for your work. Like I love me a little one-shot or a medium-length fic but srsly give me that 100k+ (200k? 300k? yes pls) goodness.
  • I am constantly in awe of your ability to stick with your story, to keep your plot moving and your characters’ relationships developing like just damn.
  • I don’t judge if your updates are erratic. If you’re worried about too much time passing between updates, just know that I and so many others squeal with joy when we get that subscriber notification in our inboxes.
  • There is literally nothing more glorious than watching characters develop through a long-ass fic. Relationships, friendships, character growth? Sometimes after I’ve finished a longfic or I’ve gotten to the last update I’ll go back and reread the first couple chapters just to see how far my babies have come.
  • If you stop updating your fic for whatever reason, that’s okay. We as readers are just lucky to have been graced with your story as long as you chose to write it. You’ve been gifting us with time and effort for this long and we appreciate it.
  • As someone who has had multiple longfic ideas and either (1) got through two chapters and gave up or (2) was too overwhelmed by how much work it would take to actually write, you are my literal superheroes.
  • You are brave and persistent and creative and a gift to fandom, and if you ever need a pep talk I am here to love on you.

Yes. All of this. God bless writers of longfic, you’ve been helping me survive winter for years now.

This. 😢

Bless this post 📚📖

@vesperlionheart @sariasprincy @thefreckledone @beyondthemoor @katlou303 I love and appreciate all of hard work you guys put in your fics!! I’m a huge fan! 

The Secret History – Cesare – Vampire Chronicles – All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]


“But you mustn’t be afraid to ask me anything. If I held something too close… If I held something too close for you to ask about it, I would not bring it up in the first place.”
Louis de Pointe du Lac, Interview with the Vampire

“Read between the lines.”
Lestat de Lioncourt, The Vampire Lestat

I’ve revisited and revised my circa-2000 Interview with the Vampire fic. The first three chapters are up on AO3 now. More to come as I continue to fix up the chapters and post them.

These years have been chronicled already, of course, in the sad little memoir Interview with the Vampire,  spun from the lips of my beloved fledgling Louis de Pointe du Lac. He gave a deeply felt if rather inconsiderate account of how I, cast as the callous villain of his tale, made him a vampire… Yet his story is riddled with mistakes, misunderstandings, and vast omissions. These omissions could only be deliberate, though whether he left things out due to discretion or due to regret, I still don’t know and can’t bear to ask.

But I can no longer look at that crippled little paperback on my shelf without wishing to tell my own version of that time, most particularly the secret history between us that Louis could not bring himself to relate. Even if the tale remains only here, in the cloistered space between my own eyes and the window of my computer screen, it must be told.


[^Crow by @crowtez

The Secret History – Cesare – Vampire Chronicles – All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]






This makes me so happy :’D

Marius is groaning about the idea of a Lestat vampire finishing school.

Omg. Making me think of “Murder 101” by the Wallflowers…

Fanart by devmin-art

If I might point everyone in the direction of a wee fic– (Lestatiquette)



let’s pour one out for the fics that you had perfectly planned in your head, those ones where you knew what was going to happen scene by scene and you had specific lines already written and you just daydreamed ‘em on repeat for days on end and you never wrote anything down because there’s no way you would forget that detail or that line but then you didn’t have the time to write it or the energy or the push and then a few months later you remember only the vaguest idea no matter how hard you think about it and you know there was more but its gone forever now…

RIP, stories i’ve forgotten. you were great. 

i wish i could have gotten you out in time



I wrote a little drabble and thought I’d share it 🙂 It is based on a pretty vivid dream I had from Louis’s perspective. I hope you’ll enjoy it 🙂

Interview with the Vampire

Lestat/Louis, Claudia 

Word count: 697

It was an unusually cold summer’s
night; every now and again, rain fell that pattered on the roof and the windows
and left a thick, hazy mist in the air. Claudia and I had settled on the large,
cushioned fauteuil in the sitting room. We had discussed our arrangements of
leaving New Orleans, our arms interlinked, her head lightly placed on my chest.
At times, she looked up at me with that angelic expression, lashes gently
fluttering, painting shadows on her round cheeks. She had talked of Lestat
sharply, resentment darkening her tone. Resentment had drowned out all other
feelings she might once have had for him. I couldn’t understand, how she could
talk of leaving without the wistful ache of past bliss eating at her heart, how
quickly that dark seed of hatred had corrupted her, as if she had no memory of
peace and happiness. Lestat would soon be back, she said, and when he returned,
she would go out. I did not need to make an effort to hear Lestat’s heady steps
in the parlour, as he made no effort to conceal them. Often, I felt, he simply
could not allow us to miss his arrival, almost trampled needlessly on the stairs;
he wanted us to notice. He would barge into the sitting room, still shaken by
peals of laughter of which he would not reveal the reasons, unless asked. It
was much the same tonight, he was chuckling to himself as he entered, his grey
eyes radiant, his cheeks full, his skin warm and rosy from the kill. He stopped
now before us, shortly, the laughter chipped off and faded into a shallow
smile. His darkened face was a mask and his smile quivered as he gazed at us in

“Oh look at my sweet little family,”
he said, voice brittle. So tender, his expression, yet I noticed the hint of
jealousy that poisoned his tone. Claudia and I remained silent, she merely
tensed in my arms. He turned now, swiftly and moved towards the balcony, with
meaning in his stride. He rattled purposefully at the door and swept away, out
of sight. We could hear him hum a melody, a Spanish tavern song perhaps, but
the notes scratched at his throat, the sounds were jagged, and his fingers were
strumming an impatient rhythm onto the balustrade. The wind picked up again and
billowed the lace curtains, the candle flames stirred in the breeze, a dried
rose petal fell. The air was humid and cold and smelled of rain.

It didn’t take long for him to come
back into the room, the balcony door closing behind him with a loud thud. He
had stopped humming and he looked at us again, blankly, coldly, without a
smile. Claudia stirred, and I loosened my grip around her, so she could get up
and away. This was when he came towards me, gesturing for me to move so he
could settle on the fauteuil beside me. Claudia stood next to it now, and she
watched as he pulled me close to him, on top of him, so that I sat between the
legs he had stretched on the settee and against his chest as he leaned back. He
folded his arms tightly around me and I could feel him sigh beneath me, I could
feel his breath in my ear and it raised every hair on my body. He relaxed,
completely, his cheek against my hair, cradling me. I could feel the powerful
vibration of his voice as he spoke to Claudia.

“Listen, listen, listen,” he said,
agitatedly, as if to keep her from turning away and leaving.

“His heartbeat,”
he paused, “isn’t it precious?”
And then I could feel it too, the faint thudding of my heart against his arms,
his hands that he had laid now flat on my chest. It was low at first, but then
it seemed to pound harder and harder in his embrace, against the arms that
trapped me and kept me close to him. Claudia didn’t respond, she merely locked
eyes with me, her piercing gaze solemn and meaningful. Then she turned swiftly
and left without a sound. 




no but how much audacity and sheer entitlement do you have to have to tell people they need to stop posting their darkfic and porn fic and any other fic you don’t like to ao3 so you can have a safe space when ao3 was literally created as a safe space for writers to post their content without fear of it being randomly wiped out by pro-censorship assholes with an agenda like what has happened to plenty of other fic archives before?

“but a lot of us see ao3 as a safe space to get away from that kind of nasty content” – lol you can see the middle of a busy interstate as a safe space all you want too but that doesn’t mean that you get to walk into the road and scream at all the cars going by that they’re the ones infringing on your safe space either

ao3 is not, has never been, and will never be a site meant for nothing but children’s stories. you can “see it” like that as much as you want but there’s a difference between fiction and reality and that view of what ao3 is like is as fictional as the stories posted on it.

AO3 is a space for all kinds of content–that’s why there’s a rating system. That’s why there are tags. Use the tools you’re given, rather than whining that it doesn’t serve up the content you want tout suite.

People that try so hard to police other people’s work aren’t poor delicate flowers that just want a safe space, they are control freaks testing how many power do they have among others’ lives. So it’s useless to try and explain how AO3 tag system works, they don’t want to learn, they don’t have a real issue, because if they did they would actually LOOK at the tags. They just want to feel important and impose themselves on others.