#I was never a part of the fandom mind you

[magnificent-buckless-butt]

Oh no, this is totally on par with hyper consumerism and carefully engineered FOMO.

And I'm starting this book, "Exploiting Fandom" and tbh I'm only at the introduction but it's already blowing my mind.

For some shows, we had official magazines (some still do, like DW) that would sometimes also organise official meet-ups. You would send letters to the magazine with your fanart (that takes time). You would spend time between episodes to come up with theories and discuss them online.

Now I watched with utter horror what happened with the last season of Stranger Things. Basically, Netflix just shouted at us

BINGE WATCH NOW REBLOG LIKE SHARE NOW QUICK BEFORE YOU'RE SPOILED INTERACT NOW OR IT WILL BE NEVER YOU DON'T WANT TO BE LEFT BEHIND

And suddenly they're at your con and half the artists are selling Stranger Things fanarts. Fast forward six ridiculously small months, you only meet a dozen people of so showing their interest in the show at that same con.

What I meant to say is: quick deaths of fandom are orchestrated in big part by the media themselves. They want you to engage quick and hard with their show so that you can promote it in their place. And then, when they have a new show coming up, they do everything to make you move on with the last one because the last one is already sold and they want new money.

Like OP, not trying to guilt trip anyone, just wanting to make sure y'all know it's a deliberate technique and it leads to fandom deaths of fandom burnouts. Take care of yourself and your fandom: be slow. Be unproductive. Be out of fashion.

personally I think it’s a shame how fandoms “died” too soon these days. I’m not talking in literal sense and I know there are people who stay passionate about their fandoms long after the hype is gone. I’m talking about the “popularity” and how people in general engage with a piece of media they like and how fast they let the hype die down? I don’t know if I’m making any sense, but what I’m trying to say is a fanfic or a fan art of a show that is recently released will get tons of likes, comments, reblogs which is great. but the engagement for fan made content about that same show usually drops drastically — and I mean drastically — once the show is no longer “recent”. and I’m not even talking about when the show is several years old. because you can see the significant drop of engagement a fanfic or fan art about that show receives once the show is like a month old or two. it’s discouraging how most people tend to lose interest and stop engaging with fanfic / fan art once its source material is no longer “new and shiny”.

especially when writing fanfics and creating fan art take time. writers and artists often receive less engagement / appreciation for their works if they take “too long” to create and the source material is no longer “new and shiny” and so people move on to something else that’s new and shiny. it’s heartbreaking to see.

obviously this is in no way to manipulate or guilt trip people into engaging with anything. because yeah you can do whatever you want. this isn’t to force, manipulate or guilt trip anyone into liking or reblogging a fan work or anything. this is just me hoping people will one day take things slower and enjoy things they’re passionate about longer like how we used to in the past.

[swanimagines]

Hi! Can I get Anakin Skywalker + Til Death Do Us Part by Kait Weston? Thank you!

TIL DEATH DO US PART

The bedroom you shared with Anakin had been left untouched for days since you came back from Mustafar. You had avoided going there all this time, until Obi-Wan talked to you and told you to go check it, as he believed it could make you start your grieving process.

As if he’d know anything about love, you thought bitterly as you stood at the door. He hasn’t loved anyone like I loved Anakin.

But you knew deep inside that he was right. Avoiding the room, the messy sheets, his night robe he always left on his side of the bed, would just make things worse. You knew your mind was desperately trying to pretend that everything was fine, he wasn’t dead. Mustafar never happened. The younglings are fine, probably training. Or playing. Maybe Palpatine got exposed, but Anakin helped the Jedi to defeat him.

But then your sense and memories reminded you of that day. It reminded you about you rushing to save Anakin, but you were too late. You got there to witness Obi-Wan defeat him, and it was like Anakin didn’t even see you, his eyes were on Obi-Wan the whole time as you screamed for him, frantically trying to see a way to get down, help drag him up, fix him.

But even then, you knew he was beyond fixing now. He would have been arrested and probably sentenced to death. You would only delay what would be coming for him anyway.

So you stepped into the room, breathing out with a small sob the moment you smelled Anakin’s scent lingering at the doorway. And you couldn’t bear to turn your head, so you made your way straight to the balcony, where you gripped the railing so hard you were unsure if it was healthy.

You took in a shaky breath, looking at the sky, the stars twinkling over Coruscant. Imagining he’d somehow hear you. “I’m sorry, Anakin. You had a hard time with what happened to your mother, and I didn’t fully see it before it was too late. The sight of what happened was haunting me, but I didn’t realise how much it was haunting you, how you needed help to overcome it. Seeing you turn into what killed you was a dagger to my heart, but I forgive you. I decided to keep my vow to you even after all this, til death do us part.”

You took in another breath, closing your eyes, letting yourself imagine for just a moment that Anakin wrapped his arms around you, telling you everything was alright. That it was just a bad dream, maybe make you laugh a little at the absurdity of it.

“Do you honestly think I would do such a thing?” he’d say, cupping your cheek. “I wouldn’t do anything that threatens what we have.”

But that wouldn’t happen, he would never come back.

—

Far away from Coruscant years later, Darth Vader stood at the deck of the large windows of this Imperial ship he was now commanding. Despite feeling slight regret for what he did to you in particular, leaving you alone, breaking all his promises, he quickly embraced the darkness. Master Palpatine told him that once he’d let the Dark Side take over, it’d give him power to get over all the useless heartbroken feelings.

But when he stared out from the windows, a whisper of something old and familiar suddenly engulfed him.

Your scent.

And your voice. A few echoing sobs first, followed by “What you did was a dagger to my heart, but I forgive you.”

It was like the Force itself carried your words to him through the galaxy, seeking for lost love, trying to find a heart those words belonged to. Vader squeezed his hands to fists, staring at the nothingness of space.

And for just a moment, he let himself feel the weight of words you spoke, the longing, the ache. You thought he was dead, and it was better that way.

“Til death do us part.”

It had parted you in a sense. Anakin Skywalker was dead and only he remained. At least that's what he was telling himself, Anakin was dead, Vader killed him, along with Anakin’s love for you.

If only he’d believe in it.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[sensitivepluto]

Rooftop Bliss

Short & Sweet - Day 1: Oh. Oh.

Megumi Fushiguro x Gn! Reader

TW: none really, mention of injury, tooth-rotting fluff.

So for this month I'm going to try to do @thewritingstar's Short & Sweet prompt list! I haven't decided if I'm going to do multiple fandoms yet so we'll see!

Here's the link to the original post

It was a breezy night when Megumi Fushiguro snuck away to climb atop the rooftop of the dorms after a completed mission. This wasn't his first time doing this, as he enjoyed getting away from the chaos of Jujutsu even if just for a moment. A gentle sigh escaped his lips as he started to lose himself in the starry sky. Of course he didn't expect to be alone for long. Every time he'd decided to come up here, you had a way of figuring it out. Not that he minded. Actually, he'd come to deeply appreciate your company.

And just like clockwork, he heard the familiar sound of you making your way to him on the roof.

"Hey." You spoke softly, carefully crawling up to him. A small smile graced his lips when you joined him, and he ignored the slight increase of his heart rate.

"Hey." He said, watching you adjust yourself into a criss-cross. "Did I wake you?" You shook your head.

"I wasn't asleep. Besides today was particularly rough so I figured you'd be up here." A hum left his lips in response.

"When did you get back from Shoko's?" Megumi questioned. Even in the starlight he could see the embarrassed sheen on your face at the mention of Shoko. During the mission you fumbled managed to get yourself impaled through the arm. The whole ordeal was embarrassing and you were ashamed to have gotten hit so easily.

"A little bit ago. You know it wasn't anything major." You waved off. He rolled his eyes at your dismissiveness. He'd never tell you, but he worried whenever you got hurt. He couldn't figure out why. Other mission partners of his have gotten hurt in the past, so why was it so hard to watch when you did? The question lingered in his mind for so long he didn't even realize he was staring you down.

"Megumi? Earth to Megumi, are you in there?" You snapped him out of it, waving you hand in front of his face. A slight blush crept onto his face at the realization.

"Oh. Sorry. Lost in thought..." He mumbled, turning his gaze away from you. You giggled and looked up at the stars.

"They're beautiful tonight." You hummed mindfully. Megumi looked up at the stars and nodded in agreement. For some reason tonight's sky yielded many more stars than usual. He once again turned his gaze toward you and his breath caught in his throat.

In the starlight your eye's shone with a brightness he'd never seen before. Your hair rippled against the breeze and the smile radiated an unfamiliar feeling in his chest. It felt like he was going to burst and when you finally turned to look at him with those eyes he'd come to...

oh.

oh.

"Beautiful..." He muttered with a wide, almost panicked look on his face. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, blush now creeping onto your own face. It was like his body was being possessed at this point. Pure instinct had him reaching for you and cupping your cheek delicately in his hand.

"Megumi..." Your words almost died on your tongue. An unspoken flurry of feeling bringing the two of you closer together. "A-are we still talking about the stars?" He rolled his eyes and pulled you into him, his hands cupping your jaw as his lips finally made contact with your own. A small gasp left you before you relaxed into him and reciprocated the kiss.

Megumi had never realized how much he'd wanted this. The feeling of your soft lips against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you both closer together. When the two of you finally parted, simply for the lack of oxygen, he rested his forehead against yours.

He finally understood it. The worry and anger when you got hurt. The uncontrollable palpitations in his chest whenever you came near. The inability to think clearly whenever it came to you. All just side affects of the feeling he now craved more of.

[in-mutual-weirdness]

This is a conversation I've ended up having multiple times, mostly to do with plurality and ethnicity. One of the tabletop podcasts I follow had a campaign a few years back where one of the PCs was in a body-sharing situation, which they recognized was similar enough to plurality that they hired a consultant about it to avoid pitfalls. Only for the execution to kind of flop spectacularly for a variety of reasons (she was a good character, just not really a good plural character). Meanwhile, a lot of previous seasons had situations that echoed fans' experiences more - a hacker who accidentally introjected a piece of security software, psychic connections, autonomous figments of memory. All of them had parts of their portrayals that resonated well or felt reflective.

Obviously there are other aspects of experience that aren't captured in sci-fi/fantasy brain-and-body sharing. After all, most of the SFF conceptual portrayals don't delve into other aspects like dissociation. But it was notable to some folks in the fandom how the prior accidental reflections were much more apt than when the cast were consciously aware of it. Because they were simply playing directly into the concepts of "what if there were multiple people in this person's mind/body", and the conflicts and relationships that would arise from that.

Meanwhile, one of my favorite trpgs that I've never played is this LARP called "The Long Ride Back to Busan" by Yeonsoo Julian Kim. You are playing as, specifically, a kpop boyband traveling to a festival in Busan while you and your bandmates sort out your personal and professional problems between each other.

Knowing the Anglosphere gaming scene. Most of the players of this game will not be Korean, diaspora or otherwise. The premise demands that you play Koreans anyway. And the game knows this; Kim and their collaborators have written a short section of guidance on how to do it. One part is my favorite rule in all of tabletop ("There is no losing in roleplaying games. However, if a player says the word "kimchi", they automatically lose the game.") But the bulk of it is all very thoughtful and practical guidance - don't fall back on trying to emphasize the amount of specific knowledge you have. Be mindful of stereotype, but first remember that these characters are People. They have their backgrounds and the societal pressures they are under as a result of who and what they are. Think about their situation, what their values are, and go from there.

And the game is written to support this. The premade characters are all designed to be realistic and to be within the sort of problems that would be realistic to have. People who have more direct understanding of Korean culture will be able to bring that to the table, but a sufficiently curious non-Asian person could do a pretty good job just following the bounds of their character and the situation. People from minority groups don't act the way they do for no reason - they are people within a particular matrix of culture, past experience, and life problems that shape the way they think and act. Stereotyping shortcircuits the path to understanding that context.

i think it's funny that the best type of representation for autism is the type that is completely unintentional. feels more natural.

[vortexbloom]

Loki as your Lover (Headcanons)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Warnings: None

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Boycott List

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

English isn‘t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters

Also, this was made for the amazing person & writer ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ @lavandulawrites 

Have fun reading this :D

Possessive but Subtly

Loki isn’t overly jealous, but he has his ways of making it known that you belong to him. A whispered "Mine" in your ear or an illusion of himself wrapped around you in public does the trick.

Slowly to Trust, Deeply Loyal

It takes time for him to open up, but once he does, he is fiercely devoted. Betrayal from you would shatter him.

Old Norse Romantic

He may be a trickster, but Loki has a poetic side. He whispers ancient Asgardian verses in your ear when you least expect it.

Acts Unbothered, but Melts Inside

He pretends to be indifferent when you touch him, but if you brush your fingers through his hair or kiss his temple, he’s weak.

Intimidating Protector

If someone so much as looks at you the wrong way, Loki won’t hesitate to weave illusions or whisper fear into their mind.

Cuddles in the Dark

Loki prefers showing affection in private. He wraps himself around you at night, tangling his limbs with yours.

Talks in His Sleep

Sometimes, he murmurs in Old Norse while dreaming, and if you ask him about it, he gets embarrassed.

Loves Neck Kisses

His weak spot. Kiss him there, and he’ll lose his usual composed self.

Teases but Can’t Take It

Loki loves teasing you but gets flustered if you turn the tables. A single well-placed compliment about his beauty? He’s done for.

Has Nightmares About Losing You

He’s lost so much; sometimes, he dreams of losing you too. He’ll hold onto you tighter those nights.

Vows to Keep You Safe

Loki has a habit of self-sacrifice, but if you ever get hurt because of him, he’ll never forgive himself.

Tries to Push You Away in Fear

At some point, he might try to distance himself, thinking you deserve better. It takes effort to convince him that you love all of him, even the broken parts.

This man deserves more Fics/Stories etc. :(

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[ladyazurith]

I was wondering if you planned to do an analysis of what happened in Trey's dream? I enjoyed the one you wrote about Cater's and the analysis you did on Cater over all. The part about Trey and Cater being more like coworkers than friends, wasn't something I had thought about before, but it does seem to hold true. I know a lot of people were hoping for some emotional scene between Cater and Trey. Ace seemed to have stole the show on that one. But I did get the coworker vibe in Trey's dream. He was far more focused on Riddle and Che'nya who I would see as his 'real' friends and Cater was more of a footnote.

I wanted to hear your take on it if I could? If not I understand. You seem far more focused on Cater than the other characters.

I hadn't intended to do a thorough analysis of Trey's dream. (Honestly, i didn't think my one on Cater's was that thorough) But I do agree the 'coworker' vibes continued in Trey's dream. To tell the truth, I'm more interested in what we saw happen between Ace and Cater than I am in anything to do with Trey's dream. BUT since you asked I'll note a few things that I picked out.

First, the big thing is that Trey wasn't picked by Riddle to be his dorm leader, he got the position by vote. Honestly, I always assumed like I'm sure most of the fandom did that he was tasked with it by Riddle because of their history. And it does seem he got the role because of his connection to Riddle but only because of how much he vouched for him. Came across to me like he was basically Riddle's hype man when he took over as Dorm Leader.

Riddle and Trey's relationship is complicated, and I'm actually kind of cooking up a write up on a theory that has to do with Riddle, Trey and Cater's dynamic, and this only fed into it. A summary though is that I think Riddle favors Cater (he has gone out of his way to make accommodations for Cater, when he's overly strict with most everything else) because Cater isn't someone his mother disapproved of and furthermore since he doesn't eat sweets, he'd never have gotten in trouble with the tart incident if he'd been with Cater instead.

Trey on the other hand wants Riddle's approval, he still carries a lot of his own Trauma for what happened when they were children and the disapproval of Riddle's mother (Remember, Riddle thinks his mother is right about everything, so this has to exist in some fashion in his mind) and seems to almost be testing Trey at times (though he still views him as a close friend, and cares a lot about him).

In turn, I think Trey is resentful of this favoritism, and his poor treatment of Cater in certain situations is born out of this. With the way he dismissed Cater's objections sending him off to paint the roses during the sorting ceremony while he "dealt" with Riddle. Remember there is a LOT OF work Cater puts in around the dorm to cover for his dormmate's mistakes, which Riddle *never* knew about. With Cater not really realizing Riddle might actually favor him.

Anyway, that's a whole thing in and of itself. It would be a very long post with screenshots of interactions, backing up the theory.

Secondly, is that Trey really is just *weird*, he tries so hard to appear normal but ugh, those *things* that made up the rest of Heartslabyul were just out there. But he also has an unhealthy relationship with food. Something we already knew was true for Riddle, Cater, Vil, and Azul. He views it as a source of care and comfort, regardless of its effects on the person consuming it. This is something else that I think is a more complex issue, I can't cover too much here.

But those are my major thoughts on what we got out of Trey's dream. I hope you enjoy :)

[lapisnotlazuli]

Calling Lapis fans/defenders "gooners" is insanely closed minded of people. Steven Universe is a show where things aren't black and white because it is written realistically. Just because someone takes the time to understand or defend a character doesn't mean they just like the character for their looks.

Lapis was used over and over again. First she was put in the mirror and used that way, then by Peridot and Jasper as a source of information, then by Jasper in a fusion. She never even wanted to be part of a war, she got caught up in one and it took thousands of years to escape.

Jasper was abusive and it's implied/can be assumed she was physical with Lapis on the ship (if anybody wants I can go into detail on this). Lapis had one chance to save Steven. She didn't want to be used again and she snapped back. Jasper was fully ready to use her, Lapis was reacting in a fight/flight mode. Sure she WAS by the ocean but could she really summon the water before Jasper hurt/shattered her and went after Steven? In a life or death situation you don't think logically. Her first instinct wasn't even to fight, she tries to run and Jasper grabs her. Maybe there were other solutions but it mainly feels like victim blaming. Jasper was ready to use Lapis for power and Lapis knew this. Lapis very much just reacted. Why does she have to be a perfect victim to Jasper's force/abuse? Why do people forget how logic can fly out the door in a life or death scenario? Sure she could have done things differently but SU writes her realistically, people being abused don't always make the prettiest choices.

Once Lapis got to Earth, she had a day before another gem who used her (Peridot) started to try to be her friend. She just wasn't ready for that. Peridot sorry might have felt genuine from Peridot's POV but to Lapis it just sounded like "sorry I used you but you were just really useful lol". Apologies with a "but" often feel so half hearted and like the situation was actually just the receivers fault. Of course, Lapis shouldn't have yelled or broke the tape recorder but she had tried to just say no earlier. She didn't go straight to yelling like people act like she did. She was pushed past a point and snapped. Both gems in this episode could have handled it better.

Putting that aside, they become great friends later and are close!! However there's only about a year between this and her finding out the diamonds were aware of Earth. She didn't have time to heal in that year- no human would and a year is almost nothing to gems. She wanted to keep Peridot safe, that's why she tried to take Peridot with her. Even though Peridot wanted to stay, Lapis was too scared to. She snapped at Peridot because she was scared for herself and Peridot. Peridot was era 2, she would have never known the war like Lapis did. Of course, yelling and taking the barn wasn't the right thing but it is not black and white. Judging based off future and the end of S5, they talked and Lapis most likely apologized.

Lapis did do things wrong but she still isn't a bad person. The fandom seems to think someone has to be perfect to be a good person but the truth is noone is perfect.

She could've done things differently and she could've done the "right" thing several times but she grew and changed after her choices. She came back to help defend Earth- she came back to Peridot. I wish people didn't just hate her to make another character look better. Lapis is a good person who was used over and over again, of course she had some flaws. But at the end of the day what matters is the nuance of the situation.

I will always defend Lapis because people never take more than 5 seconds to understand her. Black and white thinking is far to common especially in this fandom.

[utilitycaster]

The reason those C3 fans shit the bricks over the Charity stream was because they viewed the charity stream as a win for them and bells hells. Not like you know, an actual good thing to help people in need. Because when it was announced they were in the qrts and on twt yelling that the cast closing to play as Bells Hells was cause they loved them above all. That BH were "winning" because MN didn't get one shots while airing. No1 expected anyone BUT BH to be played so they were fighting air tbh.

[Cont. So when Laudna got yeeted and Beau joined it, it's like they suddenly hit with the fact that the cast like all the times. All character sheets were available and BH was being played by default of the one shot happening during c3. But they hung their entire world view on BH being extra special that they broke. Saw them also being PISSED at Ashley and Liam for getting MN members to the top before everyone else and especially the gate was "showing up BH".]

Here is what gets me, as a person who does not follow sports in any form: The Mighty Nein are a juggernaut of popularity within the fandom. I think this is for the most part deserved and I also think a lot of fans of C1 who never vibed with any later campaigns are simply not active in fandom any more since it's been 7 years, and Critical Role had more recognition with Campaign 2, so like, numbers within active social media fandom are not a perfect indicator of quality, itself a subjective measure.

HOWEVER. If you want your team to win, the most efficient way to do that is to start rooting for the winning team. I get that this is considered treasonous to genuine fans of sports. But like, if your biggest priority is Number Is Bigger then there is an obvious solution and it's called jumping on the bandwagon. Otherwise, perhaps you should consider a different metric, such as "did I have fun at this game? Were the snacks good? Were there some cool plays?" (from this you can see my priorities re: live sports namely are my friends here and did I get some nachos and a beer but you get my point). Honestly, this is how I and a lot of other people have been approaching Bells Hells week to week for some time now: were there some cool scenes? Did the character they liked most at the time say something funny? Did NPCs do anything? Were the fight mechanics interesting?

I have a post that I am saving for next week about specific elements of C3 that goes into more depth but I feel like Campaign 3's fandom in particular fell to a certain attitude that feels very specific to a younger (to me, an ancient crone, so like, mid-20s) crowd, of obsessing over numbers: how many fics. how many notes. how much screentime. can you believe that Episode 100 didn't even have Bells Hells in it????? And it's like. who the fuck cares. Is it good? Is it satisfying? Because right now we're watching you guys all admit it hasn't been and 120 episodes in you were waiting for the campaign to REALLY begin.

I don't think the cast dislikes Bells Hells! I think they all like all of their characters, and frankly when the cast gets asked directly a lot of them go with a "you never forget your first" and give their VM character anyway so like, the vitriol at the Mighty Nein really is a petty popularity contest in the end. But Bells Hells are the party that the cast happened to be playing during the Moon Plot Campaign and the party that the cast happened to be playing at the time of the livestream. None of the three main parties are uniquely special. They are special to their individual fans.

I made the Elon Musk comparison for C3 fans earlier this week and I don't want to go too hard since like, he is truly horrible, and I do think that a lot of C3 fans, while currently shitty self-absorbed people, are also quite young and it is my hope that a sharp but ultimately harmless disappointment like this campaign might shock them into fixing their hearts, but the final lines of this post came to mind while writing up a lot of my responses: "And in fact I would argue that seeking to put yourself above other people is inherently going to leave you empty, because egotistical as you may be, you've adopted a values system where your sense of self worth intrinsically depends on other people. Congratulations, you played yourself."

If your day can be ruined because your blorbo wasn't present for 100% of a live stream for charity and the cast likes all of their characters? You should work on that! I'm not saying it's easy or fun but it really is a thing you should work on because right now, the worst thing that's going to happen to you is people laughing at your misfortune on social media. But if you keep up this behavior, you're going to be bitter and miserable forever, and it will be your own fault because you're getting mad that something that was never about you continues to not be about you. Learn to accept that you had a good time (if you had a good time, anyway) and it's over and that's okay.

[psychemochanight]

Any thoughts or HCs on when Bruce actually adopted Dick? Fandom is kinda all over the place about it, depending on how angsty the writer wants to make it. Is it even canon he got adopted as an adult? Or was that a retcon at this point, DC is so messy

I mean, there's a reason within the context of the time why Bruce didn't adopt him from the beginning-

While within the story, this is because Dick did have good parents and therefore, although he needed support, he did not need a new father; back then, a single man could not legally adopt a child, which was not the case when Jason arrived, so he could be adopted from the beginning-

And yes, it is canon that Dick was adopted as an adult, although I understand that not all timelines have this happening, so I'm not really sure how that really goes, as you say, DC is just so messy about everything.

About headcanons, I like to think that Bruce has had the documents for a long time, like, maybe just a year or two after he became Dick's mentor; but he had in mind Dick's words of "I don't need a father", so he never dared to bring up the subject, although he always spoke of Dick as if he were his son.

And since they never had the most open communication... Well, it never occurred to him to bring up the subject, not even when Dick had already called him "dad".

Partly because of that, it wasn't until he was an adult that he was able to bring up the subject, mostly because of the fear that Dick wouldn't feel part of the family as the only one who wasn't legally his son, although he was not his son only on paper and blood, for Bruce he was always his son in everything else.

I also love when fics make Bruce adopt him from a young age, the dynamic is very funny (I need more fics like this, I only found like 3).

[henrygrass]

9-1-1: Lone Star - Favorite Fandom Moments

Thank you @thisbuildinghasfeelings for coming up with this lovely idea, and for the tags @everlastingday @reyesstrand @carlossreaders @nisbanisba @tellmegoodbye @heartstringsduet @firstprince-history-huh @bonheur-cafe @carlos-in-glasses @chicgeekgirl89 @herefortarlos!

I haven't been part of the fandom for long; I joined somewhere at the end of October 2024, and I still consider myself new. Sometimes, I feel a little like an outsider, which has nothing to do with you all. You have been wonderful and supportive, truly!

Discovering Tarlos and Fanfiction

While I joined in October, I actually discovered 911LS in April 2024 when I, feeling bored, decided to type 'gay' into my Disney+ search. I wish I could say I saw a clip somewhere that made me look into 911LS, but nope, it was just me typing 'gay.' Who would have thought that I would fall in love with Tarlos and the whole bunch? Not me! I have never felt this way about any movie, TV show, or book—never. I binged the first four seasons and then rewatched them all right after finishing. Around July, I started wanting more. Now, I knew fanfiction existed; I just never got into it and never had the drive to read fan-created content until I came across a post on Reddit about Tarlos fanfictions. Missing Moments by @paperstorm was right there, and thus my Ao3 journey began.

Writing My Own Fics and Joining Tumblr

After reading various works, I started wanting to share my own. I had never written anything more than a couple of pages of random scenes, but I had this very clear idea in my mind for a Tarlos fic, so I just tried writing it. English is not my native language, and it was my first time writing a story in English, so my anxiety was through the roof when I decided to post the first chapter of Weep Not for Me. I kept telling myself that it was okay if people didn't like it, but then people did like it! I was elated at how welcoming the fandom is, and while Ao3 was great, joining Tumblr was the icing on the cake.

Now, she doesn't know this (I think), but the main reason this account even exists is @nisbanisba. I recognized her from Ao3, formally made an actual account, and followed her on here. Thanks to her, I got to connect with so many people! I'm always amazed by how different this corner of the internet is from my past experiences—how nice people are, even to newcomers and strangers like me.

Watching Season 5 Live

It's such a great experience to read everyone's thoughts about an episode as it airs for the first time! The reactions to scenes, the comments that add depth or make me notice things I otherwise wouldn't have, the theories, and, most of all, the giggles over shared moments like Owen heroically galloping on Thunder or TK's birthday party—so many moments that I would have otherwise experienced alone, in my own bubble, but instead I enjoyed in the dead of night at 2 AM with so many of you. Special thanks to @tellmegoodbye and @ironheartwriter for the Discord server that allows me to catch these last episodes (the link I used to use stopped working, but they saved me). While it's too soon for the show to end, I'm glad I got to enjoy this last season of a show that means so much to me with everyone here.

The show may be ending, but the characters will always remain, and I hope that most (if not all) of you will continue to share this love for 911LS—whether through gifs, fics, art, music, or anything else. I know I will.

I'm not sure who has or hasn't done this so, I'll leave an open tag!

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Libations

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 Characters: Dame Aylin/Isobel Thorm Length: ~4200 words Rating: M, sexual content and a bit of canon-typical violence Summary:

Five and twenty words exactly and Aylin feels like she will expire on the spot, divine heritage and immortality be damned. By the time she has composed herself and her mind into something resembling coherence, excused herself from the meeting with her lieutenants, and started counting out the words of If you wish it, I shall leave my armour on, and— Aylin realises with a curse that her window for composing a reply has long gone.

Isobel, Aylin, the Sending spell, and the twists and turns of a century-long romance reflected in 25-word installments.

But for the most part our girls are simply playful and horny.

Written for day 7 of Aylin/Isobel Week 2025, for the prompts: The road to Baldur's Gate - and beyond | Courtship, romance, letters, bloodline.

I wanted to end the week on something (mostly) happy. A huge thanks to everyone who's taken part in this - I have so much to catch up on, be it reading, commenting, or replying, and it is a true delight. I hope you all enjoyed my own contributions, and I hope you enjoy this one as well.

Also on AO3.

—

Libations

The summer Isobel completes her training is one of the longest and driest in Reithwin's recollection. When it comes to be her turn for a field excursion and initiation mission with the other acolytes, Isobel begs and pleads and argues with her father for days. There is no need for the Lady of Moonrise to go, he claims; no point to Isobel putting herself at risk, or dragging herself through the dusty, sweltering inconveniences of a field campaign. But Isobel will not be deterred, and the cold war of the two stubborn Thorms in Moonrise Towers stretches on for a full blistering tenday.

Ultimately and begrudgingly, likely knowing his daughter is bound to simply leave of her own accord otherwise, Ketheric relents - but not without stipulations and conditions. For one, Isobel is to report back regularly using the Sending spell to keep him personally appraised of events and of her well-being. Second, Isobel is to use the freshly-procured and altogether excessive amount of scrolls of the selfsame spell, in order to make sure she is never straining her own magical resources.

And so Isobel sets out, saves a village, combats bandits, prevents a drought, heals more people than she ever thought herself capable of, and neglects to use a single one of the spell scrolls.

-

The first message is utter torment. Isobel toils over it, scraps so many bits of drafting paper her room starts looking decidedly snowed-in, and as white as her actually ice-locked balcony. At least Squire seems to be having fun batting the crumpled-up balls around the floor.

There is the form of address, to start with.

Dame Aylin seems, to Isobel's eye, proud and honoured by her role and many, many titles, very delightfully certain of her own resplendence, but also not so keen on being singled out for formalities and praise that erred on the side of worshipful. That kind of reverent prayer and supplication, she claimed as she waved it off, was meant for her great divine Mother.

She is striking and intimidating, to be sure - but once one tries it, she is the very opposite of unapproachable. Her smiles are wide, enthusiastic, freely given, and she is just as generous with hands clapped on shoulders or rousing proclamations. It is so easy, standing next to her, to believe yourself capable of grand deeds. A true beacon of hope and the quintessential paladin - Isobel could hardly hide her starry-eyed appreciation after mere moments in her orbit.

And yet whenever the glorious Dame Aylin turns that gleaming silver gaze towards her, when she truly looks at Isobel, all of this is so unmistakably tinged with something else. Something they are both aware of; something that looms, and seems both so unlikely and strange and so inevitable and so right. One of them need only take the first momentous step.

So, Isobel agonises, is this it? Is this the step? It seemed like such a clever idea when it occurred to her, when she knocked over her case of scrolls one unassuming morning, left over from all those years ago. A simple Sending spell: direct, private, with an invitation for the two of them to meet somewhere just as private. Promising a response within seconds, if the recipient is willing. And if not, well… Isobel could worry about that when the time came to face her goddess' literal daughter in the inevitable duty-related context again.

Honoured Emissary, Sword of the Silverlight, Champion of the Moonmaiden, Blessed Moondaughter - Isobel could use twenty-five words and more just getting through the preamble. Nonsense. Missing the point entirely, at that.

So she simply settles for Dame Aylin, not yet feeling quite so bold as to leave the title out, notes down her auspicious beginning on her current and latest little vellum scrap, and stops.

Now: counting out the remaining twenty-three perfect and exact words she wishes to send, to be heard.

Isobel groans and lets her head thunk against the solid wood of her desk.

-

It started with that fateful meeting in the audience hall of Moonrise, threading the first of its tiny roots through them both. But it flourished with the surprising summons that made Aylin's heart beat like a lively drum, and the brief private audience that turned into a long night of confessions - and rather rapidly growing closeness to stave off the cold - in the frost-garlanded gardens beneath Moonrise.

In the warm months since, it has only bloomed.

Aylin finds herself on the receiving end of many a message from Reithwin's wisest and brightest and most mettlesome cleric, after that audacious first one. The invitations take many forms, from mock-formal proclamations to open suggestions for trysts, and Aylin adores and eagerly answers every single one.

Respected Emissary, starts the latest message, arriving just as Aylin is done cleaning and putting away the equipment she had borrowed for her morning training. The smile audible in Isobel's voice implies this one will be a cheeky mix of her habitual styles. You are hereby invited to attend today's solstice festivities at Moonrise Towers. Following supper, your presence is requested on the topmost west-facing balcony.

The entire whirlwind of the past few months has been altogether exhilarating and so delightfully new. Aylin finds herself wishing to leap into the air to twirl and loop at least some her immense exuberance away; to chase and herd clouds until they spell Isobel's name out in the otherwise clear sky.

Instead, she takes a few deep breaths to calm herself, to slow the blood still rushing through her veins after her drills and stretches and let her ruffled feathers settle back down, then replies: I shall be flying past momentarily, my darling. If my presence is welcome and desired this early, leave your window open.

The window, it turns out, is not merely left open as a signal of welcome. Isobel, leaning out of it, all but grabs Aylin right out of the air to pull her in for a kiss. And then another. And another, until Aylin laughs against her mouth and begs for a reprieve long enough to clamber into the room.

Selûnites, diverse and scattered as they are, have modes of dress and raiments just as varied. Aylin respects them all deeply, and regularly feels her heart both lightened and gladdened when encountering familiar insignia, sometimes with an interesting twist on the moon-and-stars-inspired designs, in some remote corner of the world.

Isobel is a highly skilled, well-qualified cleric, and she has doubtlessly earned her vestments well. She wears them with great pride, and on many occasions - never letting those around her forget she is a servant of Selûne just as much as she is the Lady of Moonrise, and Reithwin, and all the lands around it.

Aylin, of course, likes her best wearing nothing at all. But when needs must, when the time is too short, when the day is full of obligations for them both, she makes do. She ducks her head underneath layers and layers of robes with great delight, presses a trail of kisses up one calf, then all along the inside of a thigh, and prays her Mother doesn't mind Her clerical vestments being worn for a sweeter ritual than the one they shall take part in later.

-

Another change of seasons comes, then another, but the sweetness of their time together changes not at all - and neither does the enticing tension of their brief times apart.

Isobel grows well-practised in casting the Sending spell, and makes sure to have the bit of clipped copper wire it requires close at hand. Still, she keeps her stock of scrolls replenished, too. They are pricey - but Isobel allows herself this one indulgence, this one luxury.

She supposes she will eventually stop blushing furiously during her morning prayers, when it comes to the preparation of her chosen rituals and spells for the day. Isobel hopes the Goddess is amused, if anything; Her blessings She gives freely and easily enough.

But no amount of flushed distraction or momentary embarrassment can deter Isobel. Not when her beloved is so quick with the replies, so eager to rise to any challenge; not when a cleverly-worded message so often leads to her presence at Isobel's side and sparks such delectable inspiration in her.

Tonight, however, is merely frustrating. An inconvenience at most, in the grand scheme of things, but Aylin being called away on a brief but urgent matter when they'd had an indulgent romantic evening arranged soured both their moods considerably.

Aylin promised to return as soon as she was able that very night, swore the two of them would salvage whatever bit of their plans they could; swore, again, to make up for this ill-timed absence a dozen times over.

So Isobel waits, relieved as the humidity of the day slowly clears, watches the moon steadily traverse the clear summer sky, and indulges in thoughts since all else is out of reach. She hums and contemplates the shapes of a gorgeous, strong neck trailing down to a beautifully corded shoulder, with that one eye-catching line of gold woven across it.

She discards their plans one by one; the dinner, the stroll, tasting the new seasonal ales at the inn, the bath— well, perhaps not the bath.

Isobel goes out onto her balcony, pacing in the blessedly fresh breeze that still fails to drive the nigh-feverish flush from her skin, and sends her message.

I am in no mood for romantic candlelight. I wish to see this firestorm kindled within me illuminate the divinely chiselled marble of your face.

Aylin's reply is as a murmur against her ear, as light as the caress of the midsummer wind on its sensitive tip.

Our Lady of Silver, in all her foresight, has fashioned for my beloved a throne. Soon you shall take your rightful place upon it.

Not an hour later, when the sound of wings finally comes from just out of view, Isobel feels like she could take flight herself.

-

The winter campaign against an unpleasant alliance of Sharrans and Cyricists is long and arduous, and takes Aylin further north than Neverwinter. The cold is biting and the ground hard, particularly after she has allowed herself to get used to the luxury of a high-born lady's warm bed. But worst of all is the gaping wound that her absence feels like. For all the joy Aylin draws from the loyal comrades she has been fighting with, they are simply not Isobel Thorm. Her darling, unmatched in every aspect.

Another day dawns, another map is unfurled upon the camp-table, another scouting party reports their findings. The dark forces seem to be dwindling, at long last, and Aylin lets burgeoning hope wash over her.

My fierce, fearless paladin, Isobel's sweet voice bursts out of nowhere, rich with yearning and just a touch breathy, pouring like honey over Aylin's mind. I often wonder how it would taste, to have a sip of you fresh from battle, eyes still ablaze, raging. Consider.

Five and twenty words exactly and Aylin feels like she will expire on the spot, divine heritage and immortality be damned.

By the time she has composed herself and her mind into something resembling coherence, excused herself from the meeting with her lieutenants, and started counting out the words of If you wish it, I shall leave my armour on, and— Aylin realises with a curse that her window for composing a reply has long gone.

-

She misses her sorely, today. Her Aylin, her angel, off on an important quest that turned into a months-long endeavour. And it is not - well, it is not just the enthralling physical proximity, or the delicious skills of mouth or fingers, nor simply her wonderful warmth during the cold winter months. It is the large, sword-calloused hand always ready to envelop Isobel's, the blindingly bright smile, the eyes softened and gentle and wide in their endless attentiveness, the way she makes even the simplest everyday statements sound like poetry.

The world feels just a little bit emptier, because she is not here. So Isobel does the one thing she can, and weaves a bit of magic to let her know.

My precious angel, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were meant to be mine, and I yours. And then she pauses - Isobel cannot, in that tiny span of time she has to finish her spell, summarise the enormity of this feeling. So she concludes simply: I miss you.

The reply comes almost instantly, the beloved voice effervescent in Isobel's mind and sending delightful shivers down her spine.

Darling, I yearn for your blessèd presence more than words can say. I shall endeavour to show you most ardently upon my return. Eternally yours—

Isobel smiles at the sudden stop, clutches the thin remnants of her little wire to her chest. She wants to throw herself on her bed and giggle giddily like an enamoured schoolgirl. Wants to flee the tower and leave Reithwin behind immediately, running off to wherever Aylin was.

Instead she takes a deep breath in a room that feels slightly less cold and desolate, and prepares to go about another day.

-

The days have grown long and warm, but the spring showers have not yet begun. Aylin takes advantage of the light and flies back to Reithwin as fast as her wings can carry her - faster, perhaps, as she notes some soreness and a twinge of fatigue that her tireless self is hardly used to.

But it matters little, for she cuts the deliberately unannounced return trip from her long absence by almost half. Awash in self-satisfaction, Aylin sneaks up the stairs at Moonrise on subtle foot instead of flying up by resplendent wing. She reaches the second floor landing when an almost-expected, certainly-anticipated message rings out so musically in her mind.

I have seen this long winter to its bitter end, with nothing but thoughts of you to keep me warm. Will my reprieve come soon?

She knocks at the door, and Isobel opens it, then stares, agape. Aylin smirks, meets her wide eyes shining bright with joyful surprise, and sends her reply, gaze unbroken.

Momentarily, my dearest. I do so love when you spill your sweetness down my throat.

"Aylin," Isobel half-cries, half-hisses, flushed. She yanks Aylin into the room and kicks the door closed in one movement, then locks it in another. Yanks, again, Aylin down for a kiss, quickly followed by several more, frustration and delight mingling delectably.

Aylin grins into the kisses, then chuckles when Isobel nips at her lower lip. "Is vengeance not my most holy duty? Here is but some small restitution, for your… adventurous messaging, darling Isobel. Or is it that you would have preferred me speak the words aloud? I am more than willing—"

"Aylin," Isobel breaks her daze enough to twine her fingers in Aylin's hair and gently pull, urging her downwards. "Put that incorrigible mouth to better use, my love. I'm— it won't take very long."

Aylin follows and obeys, eagerly and happily. On her knees, large hands grasping at the softness of Isobel's thighs tightly, chastised mouth hot and willing and hungry.

-

Summer comes early that year, and stays late.

And so does Aylin. Perhaps it is her Mother's way of repaying her for a prolonged tour of duty. Perhaps Selûne merely wishes to spoil Her dear daughter. In any case, Isobel has no complaints whatsoever.

Aylin, it seems, cannot get enough of any of it. Not the vagaries of mortal life that she keeps discovering, nor the extended indulgence of this honeymoon.

"I have bathed in the silver waters beneath Argentil," she proclaims, "coasted through the timeless Astral Sea… but this… this is a wonder beyond even my reckoning."

The wonder is a perfectly average and perfectly divine day spent alone together. They are in Isobel's room, all of its doors and windows open to allow as much of the sweet-smelling late afternoon air in as possible. Entangled in each other upon an utterly mussed up bed, gloriously happy and sated.

"Nothing compares to this," Aylin murmurs her conclusion against Isobel's damp, tangled hair, and presses as close to her as plain, mundane, material flesh and skin and bone will allow.

Isobel frowns; the sweetness, unbidden, suddenly developing a bitter aftertaste. Her darling is a being of two worlds and Isobel has anchored her to one. When she is gone, what tether will remain, if any?

But that is not a contemplation for now. Not when Aylin's hands, always prone to wandering, start trailing some rather suggestive paths over her bare skin once more.

"Again?" Isobel laughs, though she cannot find it in herself to complain at all.

"Hmm," Aylin hums against her neck, which she now seems determined to entirely cover with kisses. "Call me a glutton, then. Name me… ravenous and insatiable. Dame Aylin has never shrunk from the truth."

"What else is she, this Dame Aylin?"

Aylin pauses and lifts her head to look at Isobel. Then she smirks, always all too happy to play along. "Proud, to be sure. Though not without reason, I should think."

"Oh?"

Aylin nibbles on the sensitive pointed tip of an ear, before whispering into it - and how delightful, Isobel muses, to face an opponent who knows all your weaknesses. "She does not need to weave spells and convey her words directly into her beloved's mind at inopportune times in order to make her blush, for one."

"Is that so? Well," Isobel smiles, turning to face her with a steely look in her eyes, unflinching in her challenge. "Prove it."

Aylin inclines her head, the picture of respectful obedience, save for the cheeky twist to her lip she is failing to suppress, and the telltale way her feathers have ruffled up. "As you wish. Let me first count the words, in the interest of complete fairness."

Within moments, she bends down to murmur against Isobel's ear again. "My darling, enticing within and without," each word Aylin accompanies by a light trail of fingers - under Isobel's chin, along her rib cage, up and then down the inside of each thigh. "Bids me drip upon her sheets my eagerness to receive whatever gifts she sees fit to bestow upon me."

"Not bad at all," Isobel replies, biting her lip to stifle her grin at the delightful frisson the words have invoked, and pressing her thighs together when Aylin's hand tries to venture further. "But why don't you try again?"

-

Your counsel is required on a crucial matter. Come to Moonrise at your earliest convenience. It is of vital importance that you do not delay.

It is Isobel's message, of course, but Aylin is struck by the tone of it. No endearments, and no playful teasing - utter seriousness.

I am on my way, beloved, worry not, Aylin replies, simply and swiftly. Then she frowns, turns to the assembly of merchants and tollhouse clerks Ketheric Thorm had drawn her into for incomprehensible and likely petty reasons, and excuses herself.

A few wing-beats, and Aylin has coasted across the breadth of half the town. A turn and a dash and she is flying up the imposing tower of Moonrise along most of its height, until she alights on Isobel's balcony. She herself is standing there, expectant, but entirely unperturbed and blissfully calm even in the chill breeze.

Aylin sighs, understanding what has transpired at once. "My darling, as grateful as I am for your valiant rescue, you cannot make a habit of this."

Isobel does not pout - it would be unbecoming. Instead she raises a clever eyebrow and smiles just so. "Oh? Whyever not?"

"What if you needed me urgently and I thought it merely one of your jests, your sweet games…"

Isobel smirks, maddeningly close, wildly beautiful. "But I always need you quite urgently." Then, upon seeing Aylin's frown, her teasing drops, and she amends with all seriousness. "If it has become uncomfortable, or if you don't like it for any reason at all, I'll stop, of course. Aylin—"

"No! No, no. It is not that. I enjoy it, I do. All of these delightful reminders… as if you were with me, always, even when I am leagues away. But soon…"

"Soon, there will be no need," Isobel finishes, reiterating that most solemn pledge. As soon as the season turns, as soon as the roads clear, the two of them are setting off on long-promised adventures of their own. Then she gives that little smirk again that makes her eyes glimmer with the most exquisite mischief. "But it can still be fun, regardless."

Aylin nods, then raises Isobel's hand for a kiss. "Shall we go inside, then, and see to this urgent matter?"

-

There are months that pass like days, and days that pass like years, and years that, in their passing, vary their span from decades to minutes.

And there is a period of Aylin's life when she would have named herself blissfully happy. Utterly content, even. But, however long it lasted, it could never have been long enough.

-

The first dagger comes out of nowhere; out of a darkness so complete the warm, diffused light of the hallway torches right outside the room does not even touch it. The force of it and the pain send Isobel to the ground. Her spear is kicked out of her hands, swallowed by the shadows.

She hears the assassin cry out in surprise, then hears Squire yelp.

Isobel seizes the distraction, drags herself along the floor, towards the brooch she has been using as a spellcasting focus, and the bit of wire clipped to it just in case, that has torn off her robes and skidded under her desk. But the assassin looms over her once more, twists the knife out of her back, and kicks at her hand again, and Isobel's lifeline is lost in the darkness, too.

The contents of her desk are strewn on the floor around her, most of them stained by the growing, concerningly large puddle of blood beneath her.

One of them is a scroll. Isobel reaches for it with rapidly numbing fingers, and starts to speak as it disintegrates in her hand.

"Aylin," she gasps out, just barely, "help."

The rest of the words go unused.

Miles away, Aylin is startled awake from her doze, awash in a cold terror that matches the icy winds outside, and knows it is too late.

-

Then there is a century of silence. But this, too, passes.

-

It is a honey-sweet molasses-thick summer afternoon when Isobel finally sees the sea. And as wondrous as it is in all its seemingly endless span before her, at the moment the most fascinating part of it is the droplets and rivulets that cling to and race across Aylin's skin. Gold, gold, gold, wherever she looks.

She presses a gentle kiss to her shoulder, wide, strong, solid, with an ancient oath Isobel herself has sworn: tenderness for Aylin, always, forever, to make up for a century of none and to fill up every crevice of her being. This time it is but a small measure poured from Isobel's lips, in exchange for the salty tang.

The water is a bit too cold for Isobel's taste - she did not go in past her ankles, and swiftly retreated to the sun-warmed sand they'd spread a blanket over. But she still gets a refreshing taste of it when Aylin rushes in up to her chest, spreading her wings and fluffing the feathers, flicking this way and that, working the water into all of her and showering Isobel with a pleasant spray. Her pure, joyful grin is utterly contagious, and her exclamations as she swims out make Isobel's heart swell.

Isobel reaches over to the satchel at her side, plucks out a scroll and sends I love you I love you I love you I love you until the words run out to Aylin, within glorious sight but just out of reach.

Aylin's surprise is evident as she starts, then turns to swim and wade back immediately. Her eyebrows shoot up almost comically as she catches sight of the entire armful of scrolls Isobel has packed away.

"My darling," she begins, as close to hesitant Isobel has ever seen her be, incongruously combined with her ever-impressive broad frame currently on such luxurious display. "Do you not find it beautiful, nay, miraculous, that should you have any desires, you need only ever lean closer and whisper them into my ear?"

"I do," Isobel answers, truthful and heartfelt, and awash anew in appreciation of all their hard-won blessings. "But for the sake of a little fun once in a while, I thought it couldn't hurt. Besides, the young master of Ramazith's Tower and all its endless magical riches owed us a favour, and obliged, no questions asked."

Aylin hums in understanding, and grins. "So," she drawls, in a beautifully and heatingly familiar tone, "does my beloved harbour any wishes of me?"

"Not for the moment," Isobel shakes her head but does not try to hide her sly smile. "Enjoy yourself - I was merely enjoying the view."

Aylin nods, but stays crouched next to her, eyes narrowed, intent. Then with little warning she scoops Isobel up in her arms, and ambles back through the sand and pebbles and into the sea. She effortlessly keeps Isobel above the surface of the chilly water - such casual thoughtfulness - and lets her instead be soaked by the clinging seawater warmed by her own endlessly warm body.

Isobel laughs and laughs and laughs, then throws her arms around her and kisses her sweetly.

Suspended, amber-clad and preserved in all its beauty, the moment lasts forever.

[airs-headspace]

Also I'm listening to a loooooong ass video about the story of Kingdom Hearts and I'm realizing... just how much the fandom downplayed Riku and Sora's adoration of Kairi.

Like.

A lot. Like made her irrelevant a lot when she is.......... literally so important LMAO WHAT-

[dennisboobs]

:) i certainly have no issue dressing in drag :)

^guy who has no issue dressing in drag btw

glenn said that dennis' drag name is victoria von hemen btw

(Source)

[aroaceleovaldez]

What is the PR disaster in question that made Rick announce TSATS? I wasn’t active in the online fandom at that point

Of course! This was awhile ago so it figures people don't remember it/aren't familiar:

Basically a couple years back (2020) the fandom had some posts circulate discussing the ways different characters in the Riordanverse were written poorly or offensively. There was a masterpost that went around tumblr but the two major points people were particularly focusing on were Piper and Samirah (particularly because Piper had featured prominently again in Trials of Apollo recently and the third MCGA book had further emphasized and discussed Samirah being Muslim, since it was supposed to take place during Ramadan). Basically each had multiple posts breaking down the ways they were depicted incorrectly or offensively. The entire fandom for a little bit was VERY intensely discussing this (and it's around this time the "RR crit" tag got very popularized on tumblr - it did exist before, but suddenly was being used VERY frequently - cause it was that wide-spread - though the discussion took over basically every side of Riordaverse social media on different platforms). People really wanted Rick to respond to these criticisms, so he did!

He made two blog posts, one about Piper and one about Samirah. He has since deleted both so the links are to archived versions. The short version: he essentially tried to justify his poor research and double-down that he hadn't written them offensively, actually, people were just being mean to him. The fandom, of course, reacted poorly to this.

[Further elaborated events under the cut since this got a bit lengthy]

(Fun fact, this all happened within a month or so of the time i posted an open letter on aphobic tropes in the Riordanverse that Rick replied to, and then he immediately followed with announcing that Reyna was intended to be ace-coded [which cause a LOT of fandom debate] before Rick dipped for a couple of weeks, and then came back to post the blog posts in response to Piper and Sam stuff. So I like to jokingly refer to this as "The time I imploded the fandom/drove Rick off of twitter." Twas I that set the house ablaze.)

Rick fully left social media after this and the LT Musical social media manager became Rick's social media manager for the time being.

So this all happened June/July of 2020. Tower of Nero would end up being published in October of 2020 and a few months after that Rick would state that he was done with the series and wouldn't be writing any more series installments involving Percy, and also that he wouldn't be writing a Nico quest following Tower of Nero as it "wasn't his place to" and encouraged the community to write their own versions of Nico's story.

The community continued to circulate the tumblr posts and discuss the topics of Rick's offensive character depictions, and this is also where we see the dramatic shift in how the fandom depicts Piper in fanwork (though in most cases it is admittedly not an improvement 😬) because of all this discussion. This is also around the time when the fandom brought Viria under scrutiny claiming that she was whitewashing Piper as part of the same discussions, through the justification that she was drawing Annabeth as having tan skin (which she does canonically), and if Annabeth has tanner skin then Piper then that's whitewashing Piper? Except they were using completely separate images of not fully rendered Piper art versus Annabeth in dramatic lighting, so it's all very awkward and poor logic, and did actually get kind of racist. A lot of people were calling it "Tannabeth Blackchase" (yeah, i know) or similar and a common sentiment you'd see repeated is "Don't draw Annabeth as having darker skin than Piper, because that's offensive/racist/whitewashing." (Note: it was not phrased "don't draw Piper as having lighter skin than Annabeth" - we also won't get into certain offensive depictions of Native Americans, but I digress). But yeah, the Annabeth stuff in all that did not age well at all.

Anyways, in October of 2021 however Rick would announce that he was co-writing The Sun And The Star - with a lot of heavy emphasis on how Mark Oshiro works as a sensitivity reader, and some false advertising from the official social media that Mark Oshiro was the first time a non-Riordan author would be collaborating on the series (disregarding the ghostwriters completely). One of the big criticisms in the breaking down of issues in Rick's writing was his lack of ever seeking a sensitivity reader, and fans claiming that a sensitivity reader could solve a lot of the problems. This was basically Rick's "look! I totally listened!!!!" (though it did little to actually improve things, based on the book) and in TSATS as well Piper gets a large cameo at the end where the text very directly addresses a lot of points made in criticism of Rick's writing of her.

We also then of course got the CoTG trilogy later, explicitly stated to be for advertising purposes for the show.

So basically, short version: Rick came under scrutiny for a lot of offensive writing within the span of two months, made some bad blog posts doubling down about it, left social media. TOA ends. Rick says he wasn't going to continue the series/write what would become TSATS. Community celebrates the end of of the franchise but also continues to discuss Rick's poor writing and the blog posts at length. Rick suddenly announces TSATS and Mark Oshiro's involvement. Everybody gets distracted from being mad. Show announcement stuff also happens and the discussions peter out.

[bigskydreaming]

Imagine if you were a gay or bi man who tried a certain firefighter show because of all the attention it was getting for one of its mains having a later in life bi awakening.....and between seasons you ventured into its fandom in search of material to tide you over til the next one. And you're greeted by a deluge of posts and fics that are just cheerfully homophobic towards one half of the newly out bi character's canon relationship on the basis of 'well he's not the RIGHT gay guy' and pushing the idea that actually its fine to cheat on him because Reasons and he's sexually predacious based on......behind the scenes implications people have divined like they're reading fucking tea leaves.

But don't get it twisted....this fandom, like all fandoms, really cares about representation!

Sorry not sorry, but we really need to kill this idea that fandoms are welcoming and inviting and inherently progressive when they're frequently insular and reductive as fuck. Every single fandom I've been in has had major trends of people doubling down on their own headcanons and fanon interpretations of the characters and willfully enacting trends aimed at running off people who like the 'wrong' characters (usually characters marginalized along one or multiple axes), like the characters in the 'wrong ways' or other bullshit.

Scott is a Bad Friend fics overtaking Teen Wolf fandom was not incidental, it was a FEATURE of the fandom, because the vast majority of that fandom did not want to share its space with anyone who had the nerve to like its main character. Survivors complaining about or criticizing the prevalance of rape fics in a certain fandom has in my experience always led to a reactionary UPTICK in those fics, with gems like 'this character can, will, must be raped' in the tags making it crystal clear that some of these fics exist because how fucking DARE anyone try and push forth a narrative not agreed upon by Fandom Main.

I could cite examples for so many other fandoms, with the commonalities always being that vast majorities in these fandoms are explicitly reacting defensively to being asked to be more mindful of fandom trends revolving around or exacerbating racism, homophobia, transphobia, rape or abuse apologia, ableism, etc....

With the most prolific fucking rallying cry across countless fandoms being "No the fuck we will NOT be doing that," because lolololol.....

Fandom is an inherently progressive space, didn't you hear?

[sukibenders]

Racism and misogynoir are so apparent in fandom, especially when it comes to shipping because why is it when a white male, sometimes female but I see it more with the former, character is on screen with a love interest, particularly woc, especially if they're black, and even with all the emotional scenes or just moments where they look at one another in ways different from the rest, it's met with "No, they aren't dating/the show is not going to put them together" but let the other love interest be white as well and suddenly it all makes sense? Heck, the examples I mentioned above don't even have to exist between the latter for some to STILL go and believe this rhetoric (eg. some Jace and Helaena shippers because, even if these two only interacted with a dance but yet we see Baela console Jace, after he seeks her out, apparently it's to far fetched to believe that Jacela could be a thing?!)

Sometimes it could be a headcanon that, largely, would make sense (and oftentimes was birth due to lack of respect that the poc characters could have been given by the writers *cough* TVD *cough*), and yet you'd still have people dismissing it left and right and spewing hate. At a HEADCANON! And I'm not saying that just because the other person in the ship is poc that you have to ship them, I'm not, but it's very apparent to many poc fans in fandom that unless the characters are swapping spit and doing the nasty, the possibility of them being viewed in any romantic lens feels too much of stretch even though their white counterparts don't have to jump through the same loops.