Persephone's Slash and Fanfiction Suite
A Suite in Hades
Is anyone still watching this Journal?
Hiya, friends!! Longest time!

For anyone still watching this Journal, I’m here to give an update on my writings & current doings. I'm alive and well, no different, so here we go.

I’ve been posting a work-in-progress series to Archive of Our Own and maintaining an accompanying Tumblr for it, but beyond that I haven’t had a social media presence. Because as configured, social media has been a real challenge to my style of interaction especially after being totally spoiled by our epic LJ communities and interactions. (God, I miss LJ ,and blame it for everything .) So between making shock/horror/fuck me! faces at Game of Thrones, I've sort of been staring askance at the internet for some years now. (I'm still always reachable by email however.)

But! Starting yesterday I’ve opened an Instagram account (eeee!) to try and reach out again. As said, nothing in my brain has changed worse probably, so as in the old days I'll be doing my very best to entertain you, rub your hot spots with a soft, warm towel, and try to make you laugh as much and as often as possible. Also, I'm working on expanding, polishing and editing some chosen works from back in the day into books, such as *clears throat* Hector/Paris into a full fledged Trojan War epic, this time with lesbian, het and pansexual porn, Gary/Randy into a book set during the Yugoslav Wars, the Doc/Roe, Band of Brothers stuff into a novel about a young, highly precocious, wild, wild bisexual boy from the bayou going into a world war, and frankly anything you hot sluts can bunny or prompt up. Lastly, I'll also have new micro fiction regularly (that's what they call ficlets/comment fics these days, right? *angsts*)

But more important than any of that, I just want to return to the joy of interacting with dirty minded friends. (Listen, I have tried Tumblr, Facebook...)

So, on this fancy new Instagram I’ll be posting snippets of something hopefully lickable once a day. Hah. Autocorrect does not know lickable. Well, then. And if you do come by, and if you wish, please do direct message me and let me know who you are from LJ so that we can hug. Tight.

Thank you, as always, for everything I experienced here. It changed my life and I will never let go.

See you on Instagram!

x-posted to re_perseph

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Updating to RePerseph
Hi to anyone who can see this!

Due to the DDos attacks I've been unable to update my writing journal (re_perseph) for the past three days, though of course the attacks have been going on much longer.

Therefore the latest part of the Valentine's Day series will be posted - along with the previous parts - at Persephone on Archive.

The fics are unlocked over there so you don't need an account to read.

Thank you and sorry for the inconvenience. This LJ lockout has made me realize I need a separate/backup service if nothing else for announcements. Ergh.

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A handful of posts have been left public.
Please "friend" to be added for access.

If you are looking only for fics,
join my writing comm re_perseph
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If you don't have a LiveJournal account, to the left
is the link to my website Persephone's Journeys.

EDIT: Sorry, had to lock comments on this post because I was getting too much spam via comments. I guess sending spam via email is just not cutting it for spammers anymore. You can always send a private message (PM) to my LiveJournal Inbox. Thanks.
Comic-Con International 2007 Report!!
Comic-Con 2007

Heroes was for the win.

Perhaps it was Parker cooing over how handsome he finds Mohinder. Or maybe Peter Petrelli’s new haircut.

It could have been Mr. Bennet’s sexy T-shirt—an impromptu
Tim Sale-original
. I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know.

All I know is, between Clive Owen experiencing fanboy love, and Warner Bros hiring male strippers to dress as Spartans soldiers at their 300 DVD release party (they were strippers I tells youse!), this year’s Con was the best I’ve had since 2002. And I think I have the [boatload of] pictures to prove it.

Come on. Let’s get down.Collapse )

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*falls to knees*

Oh God, it’s coming.

In 1998, graphic novelist Frank Miller came to the realization that there was not enough male nakedness, hotness, potential group sex, roaring and grunting, and all round panty-melting badassness in the world. He set about correcting that, by creating the graphic novel 300.

Seven years later, through divine providence, filmmaker Zack Snyder come to the same god-fearing conclusion. Only needing to cast about briefly, he came upon 300. Zack liked what he saw. So braving death by male nipple, loss of all sanity on the set of a Hollywood production not aided by the use of narcotics, he set about to make a groundbreaking film.

Fans freaked. But pretended not to. As, for years there had been much flailing over the jaw dropping graphic novel, and the thought of bastard Hollywood getting their hands on it was a little too much for most to bear.

However, this was Zack Snyder. Who with fifteen minutes of originality from Dawn of the Dead had achieved a holy-shit factor that had gifted him years of fannish good will. Yet on the other, this was 300, the mother of holy-shits.

Still support was given. Because, really, are we not fans. Is that not what we do.

The movie got made. We hoped and prayed.

And what resulted?

JoyCollapse )

ETA: Dial-up sized stills

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Dieux du Stade. *DEAD*

Drop everything, friends.

My Dieux du Stade coffee table book and Making of the 2005 Calendar DVD arrived today.

I've been staring at punishing nudes of men all day and haven't stopped uttering the name of Jesus for hours. It calls for the default icon.

What am I going on about?

The French Rugby Team, Stade Français. NAKED. Photos by painter turned photographer, Francois Rousseau.

Apologies in advance for the awful scan lines.

Dieux du StadeCollapse )

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Comic-Con International 2006 Report!
Every year I promise myself I'll attend all the panels on my list! Every year I fail!

Right. So this year at the Con, there weren't many big name celebrities or big studio movies (a direct reflection of the box office these days. It was very telling that the crush was mostly at TV shows panels).

Having said that, however, I still lost at least three pounds over those four days. And all because of the 300 panel.

The mushroom cloud of explosive perving that that movie's aptly named teaser released in that 6,500 seater auditorium was unlike anything I've ever witnessed at Comic Con. My inclination, even two weeks later, is still to lie down and howl every time I think about it.

However, there are pictures I'd like to show you, so I'm upright for the time being.

Sam Jackson was there, David Wenham was there, and Harper Gerard Butler was there. And in the latter case, I was within pawing distance. I didn't paw, but I howled. Oh yes I did.

And of course, never to be underestimated but always to be loved, were the fans. Who are Comic-Con.

Come take a lookCollapse )

World Cup 2006~ waaaay beyond the slash
*comes up for air*

Know what this is?

This is Germany's Lukas Podolski, consoling Poland's goalkeeper, after Poland loses to Germany.

What love. What angst. My God. It must be 2006, because you just can't make this stuff up.

The Beautiful GameCollapse )

Comic-Con International 2005 Report!
This year at the Con, I learned a very important lesson: A camera in hand is a very powerful tool of flirtation. It works on men, women, children, Jedi Masters, cult movie directors, celebrities, parents, and robot cavemen.

Burning questions answered at this year's Con: Is Josh Holloway as cute in real life? What does Jamie Bamber's skin feel like? Which ship is still the baddest in the galaxy? Is Marton Csokas really unattainable? Do Karl Urban's lips look as kissable in real life? Are fans crazy? Does Serenity rule, or what?

Tune in. Find out.

A Very Big Pic SpamCollapse )

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If a slasher wrote a movie... would be Plata Quemada (English title: Burnt Money). Except for one major little thing, which I'll mention at the end.

The one on the left is Nene (which means "little boy") and the one on the right is Angel (pronounced "ahn-hel", which in any language obviously means *hair on fire* *douses self*).

This is an Argentinian movie (based on a true story) about two men, Angel (Eduardo Noriega) and El Nene (Leonardo Sbaraglia), who are Bonnie and Clyde-type bank robbers known as The Twins. Nene is an ex-convict, the black sheep of an upper class family, and Angel "wasn't even from here", as the narrator cleverly puts it.

Angel hears voices, Nene only cares about Angel. And yes, my friends, they are lovers.

(Warnings: Spoilers. Lots of caps, R-rated. May not be work-safe)

'They bumped into each other for the first time in the station toilets where Nene used to go for sex.'Collapse )

Edit: I lightened the first bunch of caps.

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