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Nice, standard mission. Nothing complex happened, but you used the weather and Sue song as good sources of frustration for the agents, which makes it even funnier when they get the unexpected boon of the Sue tying herself up. Lainduilien is cute at the end, too. Oh, and I was amused by Elanor making the "prrrp" noise, too.

A typo (which HG probably already said but uh I didn't read other comments oh well):
She sighed an activated it.

—doctorlit is way behind on Disney stuff, still needs to watch Moana

Well, why should I be the one to go to all the trouble of saying nice things?
I’ve only ever seen this as "to go through all the trouble", but my awareness may be limited.

She sighed an activated it.
I’m sure this should be "and".

We’re gonna have to go the Nursery now, Elanor.
Shouldn’t this be "go to the Nursery"?

Others said it already: the friendly banter, the meta-joke about Lainduilien, the fortunate lack of mosquitoes in generic jungles – it’s all so good.

HG

AN: Thanks once more to everyone kind enough to leave reviews! I know, I know, I left the last chapter on a little bit of a "cliffie", as the kids say, but I assure you: all will be revealed. >=]

I should also like to give a truly enormous thank you to Avlates_usted, whose kind description of my work as "really... strange" and "funny, I guess" touched the very core of my black and wizened heart. =]

I own nothing. Property is a myth constructed by late-stage capitalism in order to cement the power of the overclasses over the working lifeform. Also something something these characters ain't mine. =]

Content Warning: This fic is rated Mature, or 18 in civilised countries. If you're under the age, don't read it. Don't look at it. Just turn around - SLOWLY - and walk away. Don't let it know you saw it. Don't let it know who to come for. Just walk away slowly until you can't hear the little buzzing noises, then run.

===

"So, you are feelink zat zer Doktor ist beink 'echt klasse', in your own vords, ja?"

Zer Trollenfischenharem vas hangink on to zer every vord of zer speaker, Nurse Jenni Robinson, as she vas interviewink Agent Ix in zeir booth at Rudi's bierkeller. It vas also beink noticeable zat zey vere eyeink up zer nurse's bountiful und most vomanly bounceroos, vhich vere currently beink imprisoned (in zer Trollenfischenfivesome's collective opinion) by ein varm-lookink cable-knit sveater in ein subdued shade of dark blue.

"Ja, Nurse Robinson," replied Agent Ix. "Zer Doktor has done somezink for me zat not even mein vonderful liebling Charlotte could be doink!"

"Und vat vas zat?" Jenni clicked her pen und leaned forvard, zer vobbling motion caused by vhich made zer cable-knit pattern of her sveater briefly resemble ein vell-plucked bass guitar string.

"Me."

"Ah. I am seeink." Jenni pulled back, her bounteous melon harvest jiggling up und down like beach balls on pogo sticks. "Agent, I vill have to be talkink vizz you und your newfound friends in a more... private environment. All of zem must be beink in attendance, in particular zis Doktor Trollenfisch of whom you are speakink zo highly. Ve are havink ... much to discuss."

"Vell, zere ist alvays beink Responsezentrum Drei-Vier-Sieben, zat is havink more zan enough space for everyvun," said zer Doktor cheerily.

"... How?"

"I have not been beink qwestionink it for all zer time I have been beink ein agent of VhatThe, Nurse Robinson, und I am not intendink to start now."

"Zat ist beink fair enough. Come. Ve vill meet zere post-haste."

All six people duly left zer bierkeller, vizz Doktor Trollenfisch und Nurse Robinson leadink zer vay und zer uzzer four Agents following dutifully und jigglefully behind zhem. It gave zer Doktor time to really begin noticink how zer Nurse vas holdink herself, vizz zer stiff posture und severe expression of ein matron, razzer zan zer more... approachable mode of dress und body language he had been comink to be expectink of zer humanoid-und-top-heavy females in his (admittedly limited) acqwaintance. However, somezink vas catchink his gaze out of zer corner of his eye - a brief vhite shimmer under Nurse Robinson's thick und boob-smotherink sveater. Vhat it vas beink, he did not know, but zer ponderations served as ein expert distraction for zer navigation of Headqwarters' many und varied corridors.

Eventually, zey filed into Responsezentrum Drei-Vier-Sieben, und Jenni took ein seat on zer big svivel chair vhile her subject und zer Interlockenpolyculen took zeir usual seats in zer paddlink pool full of orange-flavoured jelly. Zer general bouncink around zat zis caused did not distract Nurse Robinson from preparink for zer interview, alzough zer Doktor noticed ein thin sheen of sveat appear on her forehead from zer obvious effort zat such ein think reqwired.

"Now zen, Doktor. I am havink somezink very important to be askink you."

"Zer stains on zer valls vere here vhen I moved in und are havink nothink to do vizz zer large sign over zhere sayink 'Vet T-Shirt Contest Round Siebzehn: Hypoallergenic Strawberry Custard'."

"... Not qwite vhat I vas havink in mind, but zat is most reassurink nonezerless. Vhat I am havink to ask you is beink of ein personal und... sensitive nature."

"Sensitive?"

"My vord yes."

Zer Doktor vas now tryink his best not to smirk. "Indeed. You are beink among friends here, meine kleine Sveaterheifernursenmädchen. You can be tellink me, tellink us vhatsoever ist beink on your mind!"

"Oh, mein Doktor, it ist beink such ein relief to be free of zer burden of secrecy und isolation!" Nurse Jenni, her severity now beink entirely forgotten, threw off her cable-knit sveater und revealed underneath it ein shining vhite latex nurse outfit, complete vizz zer kind of cleavage in vhich people could be goink for mountaineerink holidays. "Mein most splendiferous hooters have been beink zo unbelievably sensitive! Zey are cravink zer sveet und sqweaky touch of latex, mein Doktor, for it ist beink zer only think zat ist leavink me vizz even zer remotest sense of self-control! Oh, mein Doktor, vhat are ve to do?"

"I can be thinkink of ein few thinks," zer Doktor replied, already flopping over to zer cupboard full of paraphernalia (zer contents of vhich included, but vere by no means limited to, vhips, chains, posture bars, posing bars, gay bars, space bars, chin-up bars, Temple Bars, und vun marmoset who vas lookink like he had recently been seeink some Scheiße) "but zey vill be beink reqwirink certain assurances from you, ja?"

"I am understandink, Doktor."

"You vill need to be obeyink mein every instruction."

"Of course, Doktor."

"Regardless of vhether or not you personally consider it legitimate medical procedure."

"Of course, Doktor."

"Or vhether or not it ist involvink zer unconventional usage of ein contrabassoon full of cheese."

"Of course, Doktor."

"Echt klasse! Meine kleine... vait, zat ist no longer beink accurate... meine kleine Milchsaftenkrankenschwestermädchen, ve must begin immediately!"

Zer treatment plan, already much proven over zer course of hundreds of combined hours (und combined limbs) of practice, began vunce more! Zey did zer Dipsydoodlen, but only for ein varm-up; after zat, it vas time for zer Schlickenbangenkettlemenden, vhich (considerink all zer PVC und sunflower oil involved) made ein noise like zer organ of Chartres Cathedral playink Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No. 2 in C Minor if all zer pipes vere beink made of several hundred increasinkly agitated gerbils. Finally, zo, it vas time to complete zer course of action vizz diligence und proper respect for zer medical process, vhich could only mean vun course of action vas possible: zer Jiffenstiffenrumpenpumpenhumpenbunken, vhich vas considerably more difficult zan ist normally beink zer case, as zere vere only beink half ein dozen of zem und not vun of zem vas beink ein CORGI-registered gasfitter, vhich vas frankly just inconsiderate.

Such treatments are by necessity big consumers of both time, energy, und chocolate sauce, so vhen Doktor Trollenfisch glanced up at zer clock und noticed it vas qwarter past cluster of misaimed darts on ein Tuesday, he thought it vas beink time for ein "Makink Sure Zat Nobody Ist Sufferink From Heat Exhaustion Or Possibly Vitamin D Deficiency" break. Durink zis period, zer Aviator appeared vizz anuzzer pink und spiky collar, vhich she wrapped around Nurse Jenni's neck vizz zer same grace zat Nurse Jenni had vhen being wrapped around zer vide assortment of implements in zer Responsezentrum.

"Oh, meine kleine Milchsaftenkrankenschvestermädchen, it ist lookink most beautiful on you!"

"vurbl," vurbled zer utterly shagged-out Nurse.

How could vun possibly respond to zer vord vurbl?

"Echt klasse!"

TO BE BEINK CONTINUDE AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN!

The googly eyes absolutely make it, I'm telling you.

This is going in my fanart folder. ^_^

hS

I was expecting this to be an ambiguous, nuanced situation, where the question was whether what Bramandin had done/claimed to have done was sufficient. That's why I said outright that I wasn't going to be voting.

Instead, Bramandin has continued with the line of 'I have done nothing wrong and need to change nothing, but I will graciously consider forgiving you and gracing you with my presence.' See:

I had forgiven you for your mistakes, but you did nothing to reinforce it, so I'm retracting my forgiveness until you've earned it.

As for functioning in an online community, I've interacted with a couple of different ones. They don't flip out at non-sequiters, but rather understand that the connection makes sense to me.

I vote for the ban to continue.

---

Bramandin: you don't want to be in the PPC community. You don't like the PPC community. You don't like the people in it, you don't like the rules it has, you don't like the way it treats you, you don't like anything about it. Stop trying to force your way back into a community that you don't like.

The only explanation I can come up with is that you desperately want to write PPC stories, and are aware that getting Permission is part of that. So look, here: on my authority as a Permission Giver, I grant you the right to write as many PPC stories as you please, so long as they are never published online. If you enjoy it so much that you'll keep trying to fling yourself at us to be allowed to do it - go wild.

And stop trying to rejoin the PPC community. There is nothing about it that you like, so just... leave.

hS

Just because you don't see it (or choose not to; I was in that position with my anger and GID for years) doesn't mean it isn't there. You admitted bluntly that you manipulated Nesh into letting you back into the community as Bramandin, and after your subsequent block, you were trying to bend the rules after one poxy week to get back into writing PPC stuff.

To be completely honest with you, I'm surprised that Nesh and Tomash and everyone else haven't blocked your email address out of respect for their own mental health; you demonstrably don't believe that you need to put in any kind of effort to improve, or at the very least moderate your behaviour. Through your continued actions - the passive-aggression, the disregard for community standards of behaviour, the insults - you show that you think it's all on us to walk on eggshells around you, and that because we don't, the rules do not apply to you. It's like Larf said further up the thread; we're going to have to keep doing this ridiculous song and dance until either we're forced to ban you outright or you get what you want, which seems to be carte blanche to do and say and write and make others feel however you choose without any kind of criticism of or consequence to your actions.

I realise I'm ranting. If other members of the community judge that I'm going too far, other members of the PPC will pull me up on it. I will then back down and issue an apology. This is how the community is supposed to work, and how it does work, and how you want it not to work purely and solely in regards to you. You don't want to be a part of the PPC. You want to run the PPC, and run it like an autocrat swaddled in cotton wool by yes-men. That's the only conclusion that I can draw from your continued total disregard for the standards of PPC community conduct.

Get. Help.

Somewhere else.

Sort of glossed over the wedding. I can fix that next chapter.

And Zeb's gay because he's totally gay, haven't you read the canon? It's so obvious! And it's not gross, you homofob!

Like I kno I said I wanted to see them get married but I thought it would be more romantic this was just sinning paperwork and stuff :l

And why would u include Zeb being gay that's just gross

UNFOLLOWING

Time Enough For Love Ch. 2

A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone! You ready for wedding shenanigans?

The Aviator, the Detective, and Zeb were all standing in front of a portal set for Las Vegas ... sort of. It was a version of Vegas that was basically the real Vegas, but they wouldn't mind marrying two Time Lords with a Pokemon as the witness.

The Aviator was about to step through the portal when she took a step back. "Wait, why aren't we doing this on Gallifrey?"

The Detective waved a hand dismissively. "Too traditional. The ceremony would take, like, hours, and I want to get back to shagging you. Also, Vegas is traditional for drunken weddings!"

"B-b-but I'm not drunk!" protested the Aviator.

"Good point." said the Detective. "We should fix that. Let's go to Rudi's.". He put a hand around the Aviator's showlders and led her out the door through the featureless gray corridors of HQ, with Zeb following behind them.

The trio got to the bar, which was rather loud and crowded. They managed to fight their way to the bar (with some strategically placed elbows), and the Aviator shouted "Next few dozen rounds are on me, you too! I'm getting married and I need to have fun and get too wasted to remember all that crap I usually angst about!"

"That's a great plan!" said Zeb, who was rather excited to get to try actual alcohol. "Why haven't you tried that before?"

The Aviator muttered "Dunno. Must've never come up before." and started knocking back shots of whatever the bartender was putting in front of them. She didn't even keep an eye on the bill - being one of the most famous and decorated agents in HQ came with a serious paycheck.

After about three drinks, Zeb was rather unsteady and starting to shoot off sparks. "Imm jush gonna go back t' th Rshe." he slurred, wandering away from the bar. On his way out of Rudi's, a also rather inebriated cat-person caught his eye.

"Hey. 'm Zeb. Y'know, the Aviator's partner?" he introduced himself. "Are you a Meouwh? It's kinda hard to tell, since there's four of you."

"I'm Za'kiir." said said cat, holding out a paw. "My partner's somewhere else, so I got pretty wasted on this sugar.""

Zeb shook the paw. "Ave's still over there getting drunk before she gets married in Vegas. I'm a bit out of it, so I left.. Sort of disappointed I didn't get involved in the mating at all though."

"Hmm...", thought the cat. "Khajjit could show you a good time, if you'd like."

Zeb blushed. "Hell yeah!" he said, arcing all over. Then, the two agents went off into a dark corner of the pub and had a very good time. (A/N: I can't describe this very well because I have no idea how that could even work, but those two needed to get together!)

Meanwhile, the two Time Lords were getting to the point where they could actually feel the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol they were drinking. Both of them started telling kickass stories from the war to anyone who would listen, which obviously involved a lot of one-upping each other about how many Daleks they'd obliterated. This got them a few new admirerers.

---

Eventually, the about-to-be-married couple left the bar, just drunk enough to allow for an easy annulment the next day should the need arise. On their way out of the bar, they ran in to Zeb, who was leaving after having gotten to know (both as a person and in the Biblical sense) Za'kiir. As the three of them started to walk back to the RC, Zeb was excitedly telling the other two about his new boyfriend and planning the second date.

Once they'd reached the RC, everyone straightened up their clothes (or fur). Then, they took a few minutes to chase the pigeon that had wandered through the portal they'd forgotten to close out into the hallway. This involved some innovative applications of a sonic screwdriver and a broomstick. After the pest problem was taken care of, everyone stepped through the portal and closed it behind them.

The Time Lords unsteadily walked into the nearby courthouse and told the clerk "We're here to get married!"

"Great, go fill out this form." said the tentacled fellow behind the desk, passing over the paperwork.

When the form was almost complete, the Detective noticed something. "Hey, uh, honey, we need two witnesses."

"Darn. C'n we use the clerk?"

"Says here we can't." said the Detective. Then he threw up his arms and started running around in a circle. "WHAT DO WE DO!!??" he panicked.

"I've got a plan. It's a great plan." said Ave. "Give me the portal gun."

The Aviator then opened a portal right into Rudi's. She stepped through and went up to the bar. There, she spotted her best friend — OK, well it was actually someone she'd just met at the pub a few hours back, but close enough — Serendipity Twenty-Nine.

"Hey, Serendi-somethin' — robot chick!"

Serendipity glanced at the Aviator. "What? I'm busy moping about how I'm going to lose my powers and plotting a revolution."

"We need a second witness for the wedding. It'll only be a few minutes. Can you come?"

"Ugh. fine. But you owe me one." grumbled the robot, standing up.

Ave then opened a portal back into court, and the two of them stepped through. Everyone signed the form, which took a few minutes since Galiffreyan signatures are pretty long, and handed it in to get a marriage license. Some psychic paper served just fine as valid ID for the four of them, so that wasn't an issue either.

After all the government junk was dealt with, the Aviator and the Detective had a long, multi-minute embrace and kiss.

Somewhere around the twentieth minute, Serendipity figured out which city they were in. Her eyes turned red. "Is this a human city? I hate humans!" she shouted, charging up a rocket launcher.

The noise startled the newlyweds out of their passion. "Put that down!" shouted the Detective, opening up a portal to Ave's RC. "We're all goin' home. Me 'n Ave have some, y'know, stuff, to get to."

The Aviator put an arm around Serendipity and the Detective. "Yeah. Let's get out of here before security shows up. I don't like dealing with the paperwork for shooting people."

"Ugh, that paperwork." muttered Serendipity, her eyes turning blue again. She put the gun back and stepped through the portal.

"Bar's that way." said the Aviator to the android, pointing, after everyone had made it back to the RC. "Third right, thes second left, then keep going straight until you reach it." Serendipity walked out the door, plotting revenge on humanity under her breath.

"Hey, Zeb? Can you keep Elanor distracted while we enjoy our wedding night?" asked the Aviator, opening the door into her TARDIS.

"Sure! You two have fun!" said the Pokemon, who'd, unlike everyone else, sobered up by now.

The two Time Lords grabbed each others hands and walked deep into the TARDIS, where they found the bedroom they'd used the day before. There, in a fit of passion, they ripped each others clothes off and got really busy trying to give Elanor a sibling. Their love grew so loud that several neighboring RCs filed noise complaints, and seismic disturbances were reported somewhere in Iowa because of the noise.

A/N: I'll keep writing as long as you keep encouraging me with those sweet, sweet reviews!

Disclaimers and stuff: All right, I obviously don't own any characters here. This fic is rated 18, or M in Freedomland. Not going to be explicit (it's not as explicit as Scape's masterpiece), but it's not hard to figure out what's going on here. You've been warned.

---------------------------------------------

Zeb padded into the Courtyard luxuriantly as his wonderful soft luxuriant fur had just been carefully washed by his partner. He gazed over the lush green grass, the verdant trees, and the sparkling blue water beforewalking into the center of the area to lie down and wait for someone to show up

It was at that time coincidentally that Ix wwalkec inn and Zeb as always wondered what happened for him to get all those scars across his face and stuff. Ix took a few steps into the Courtyared, looking up at the sky, and let out a shriek of internal pain and agony baring out her soul to any who could hear. Zeb bounced over as was his way.

"Hey, Ix!" Zeb bounced "Whatup?"

Ix smiled despite himself because it's impossible to be sad and angsty when confronted with a happy luxray. "oh Zeb" he said "I'm just so unhappy all the time and Charlotte is just smothering me in her protective awesomeness! I can't deserve her so I'm out here alone instead of doing whatever in the RC."

Zeb nodded sagely, still bouncing around. “Well do you want a distraction or something? I can go fetch stuff like sticks!”

“Sure” Ix said and tackleglomped Zeb petting him and his beautiful silky fur all over and started tearing his clothes off to reveal more beautiful scars which Zeb wasted no time in licking sensually. Eventually the two pulled away, breathless. “Wow that was great,” Ix said. “I barely feel terrible and angsty now!”

“Good!” Zeb replied. “I’m told I have a way of rubbing off on people like that.”

“You certainly do.”

It was then that Zeb had an idea, an idea to do something he’d always wanted to do since getting blown up and winding up in the PPC. Before long, both Agents were having lots of fun, rolling in the grass of the Courtyard and ending up with Zeb standing over the almost-Auror as the sun was setting, painting the sky with a dazzling array of oranges and golden yellows and other similarly gem- and precious metal-inspired colors.


And Ix screamed into the sky, tears of pure joy and pleasure streaming down his face,



“OHHHHHHHH ZEBBIE-KUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNN~~~~~”

I'm always a sucker for TES, and this was a great fic! I'd recommend it to anyone generally interested in TES.

None of this has anything at all to do with what I said. What I did was point out that you believed you were ready to come back, while proving that you were (in my opinion) not ready to come back.

Nothing you are saying has any bearing on any of that. Expecting you to hold up your promises in the very same thread you raised them is not disregarding your point of view. I have no idea what your points about guardrails and working outside the community even mean, let alone what bearing they have on this conversation. My point still stands.
You seem to still be placing the blame of the entire situation on this community, and the question is raised again: why do you even want to rejoin us if, in your opinion, we are all constantly wronging you and require your forgiveness?

I don't know why you felt the need to critique my explaining skills and compare them to 'other places.' That's irrelevant, too, and it looks like, from where I'm standing, a vague insult. Though, I understand your issues in communication, so I won't push that any further.

This is an awesome fic! Super interesting, and the protagonist is a really exciting character and a very original concept. I csn't wait to see where it will go.

[[AN: AUGH. You wake up the next morning and discover that you've posted to FFW drunk. Apologies for that nonsense. The following story will be up to my usual standards of quality.]]

The Aviator walked into Rudis and sat down at the bar. "Grr. I am sad and angsty," she said, in a sad and angsty. She then burst into tears and started crying. She took out some black paint and started painting her face.

"Oh shut up," said Acacia, who was sitting nearby. "If you keep crying like that, I'll stab you."

At this point, The Head of the PPC, Mr. Sunflower, walked in the bar. Everyone in the bar bowed. "Good news!" he said. "I just sent out all the paychecks, and we've done such a good job you can all get a two weeks vacation!"

Everyone cheered, except Agent Selene. She wished she could spend more time doing her job.

Just then, Thoth walked in. "I just loosed a bunch of Genestealers all over HQ. Jave fun dealing with that!"

"But why would you do that?" Asked Agent Cameo. "It doesn't benefit you at all?"

"Because," said Thoth, "I'm evil! Do you think I need a reason? MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Just then, Tom hit Thoth in the back of his head with a crowbar. "Sorry about that. Come on..." He dragged Thoth back to the RC by his T-shirt.

Then Jay showed up and punched Acacia in the face. This started a barfight, which stopped why Terry Pratchett entered the room.

"But what are you doing here?" asked Jay.

"Didn't you know? I'm secretly an agent." said Terry. He then gave them all copies of the 50th Discworld novel, causing most of the participants in the fight to become so focused on reading that they stopped fighting.

Then the author of this fic walked into the room and was immediately shot by Agent Zeb for writing something this stupid.

• Ave and Dee are doing a wonderful job of the "friendly bickering" component of a relationship
  - Oh, Zeb. Are you going to be poking fun at those two for the whole mission?
  - Elanor is cute
  - ... I had to look up who Lainduilien was - that was a good meta joke
  - Heh. The Aviator's flying.
  - Yes, Zeb, please do play Bingo
  - Trying to clear water out of your head seems like a reasonable response to being italicized
  - Of course DoSAT has a betting pool on how many C-CADS Ave and Zeb will blow up
  - Ok, so this entire fic is basically going to rip off Disnay movies in an Avatar setting with some stupid extra sort of bender tossed in?
  - Good point about two-story houses
  - re: jungle "On second thought, Generic isn't so bad". snrk
  - That's a good description of picking food
  - Ave and Zeb drying off in the TARDIS (with the clothes and the butt-licking) is a cute scene. Also, where did the Aviator get that burn scar?
  - Zeb has a point about the hot guys
  - "thicker than Goyle"
  - I've learned something about wave heights today
  - The scene in which Zeb asks Ave if she'll be OK is touching
  - Nice of the Sue to make the assassination easier
  - Zeb putting on the earmuffs for Elanor. Heh.
  
  So, overall, this was short and had a lot of neat moments between the agents, and took decent advantage of the silliness of the fic to create some funny situations and lines.

The working on my permission request was part of working on myself. I was under the impression that you would give me a fair shot, so working towards that was enforcing that hope. I'm kinda disappointed that you just ignored me instead of talking to me about it. Not working on that between self-reflections would have inspired resentment.

(( - Tomash ))

I did say that I could do all of the work I could outside of the community. What happened to the plan of putting up guardrails? I feel like if you expect things to get better by continuing to do the thing I stated makes it worse, you're just disregarding my point of view entirely.

Add to that something that I noticed last night. When talking to you, I have a tendency to ask you to rephrase and clarify. That is something that isn't required in other places.

(( - Tomash ))

...of someone falling into Middle-earth, input instead it's the PPC...but then the main story started and it kind of sounds like you're copying the Jaycacia stories...? I mean, the had a prophecy too, I think...

Also, maybe you should make your paragraphs shorter. They're hard to read since even when there's dialogue it isn't broken up...

Maybe what you should do is skip backward to Kitty and Ruby introducing themselves, and have them narrate the story from the first person perspective because otherwise how are you going to get their personalities and looks into there? Then go through the mission and make them kick lots of butt! Maybe add prophecies. Prophecies are always a good plot. I love this story so far!

Also maybe, since I wrote this good review for you, could you go review my fanfic? It's called "The New Recruit", and it hasn't been getting much attention. Thank you and have a Foxytastic day!

-Nightmare Twistey the Demon Fox Animatronic

I think Zebbie-boy once again took the spotlight of the fic. I can't help but to be absolutely enamored by his actions, starting from the obvious blockage in the beginning, through the grooming part :P

Also, oh my Elune people are ripping off Moana already!? Yeeesh. Good call with the Glopsnerch, too. Nice to see more obscure PPC tech making it a comeback.

And I might be an outlier, but Farkas and the Dragonborn being all cutesy together is basically me and Aegis, so I know it can happen in real life. :P

Also, I hope you're pleased, I'm gonna end up wasting the day on Skyrim because of you.

Can't wait to see your take on the quests!

Muchas gracias for the review. I'm glad you liked it! Especially the sweet bits. One of my betas thought I might be overdoing the number of those, so I'm keenly aware it might not be to everyone's taste and am very happy at least one person enjoyed them.

And yes, there will be more. I have written an insane number of words covering the main questline and the Companions questline, up to Dustman's Cairn and the immediate aftermath. None of it is quite ready for beta yet, but I'm getting there!

~Neshomeh is practicing being a real writer and typing words almost every day!

Maybe you could stretch out the fic a little to make it longer and more detailed and more exciting? Like what does Captain Deadly look like? He's probably pretty hunky, so don't let words be spared when they could be used to describe his fabulous bulging muscles. Either way, this fic's plot is nice, and it fits right in with PPC canon! (Although sometimes it's also nice not to be canonical, but your fic is one of those situations where it's better to be canonical.)

Anyway, Thoth dearie, could you leave a good review on my fanfiction? It's called "The New Recruit", and I worked so hard on what there is so far - there's a lot more to come! It hasn't been getting much attention, though - the only comment I've gotten on it so far was a troll. :( Since I left this good review, could you leave a good review? Thanks and have a Foxytastic day!

-Nightmare Twistey The Demon Fox Animatronic

(Note from the Non-Suethor version of this author:

My apologies for calling you "dearie".

-Twistey)

Lets face it Luxury is a skank anyway who doesn't deserve to have true love.

I hope Jacques ends up with Chralotte though!!! I kno you made Ix pretty in this but I can't stop remembering her as ugly lol. At least you broke them up for this becuz thatd be weird.