#the longer I spend time in fandom and see these kinds of discussions

[nugge-is-my-duckie]

Werid that I even feel the need to say this, but I've seen multiple posts about fivela saying this stuff that it's actually bothering me now.

It is not a paedophilic ship. In either direction.

The word "paedophile" has been misconstrued a lot in fandom spaces to describe any age gap relationships even when there is actually no child character involved. A large and/or uncomfortable age gap is NOT paedophilia. That word describes an adults attraction to a CHILD. Not even necessarily an underage teenager, there are other more specific words for those things.

If this happened even just a season prior where Five is in the body of a more pre-pubescent 13 year old, then yes, paedophilia would be a better word for it. Even if his consciousness is in its fifties, Lilas attraction would have been towards a pre-pubescent body. However, in season four, Five has a 19 year old body.

Don't get me wrong here. I think Fivela is a very uncomfortable and werid ship in many ways, particularly the age differences, and was a very bad choice of the writers and creator to make. It's just that using the wrong word to describe it can actually become harmful in the real world, especially if people form their understanding of it from what others say online, which many do.

A much better word for it, in my opinion, is that it's predatory. Firstly, it feels very much so in the way it appears that Aiden Gallagher was still a minor when they chose to do this, and they waited for him to be "old enough" for the storyline. Secondly, in the shows itself, not only is Five decades older than Lila mentally and Lila decades older than Five physically, but Lila also knows and watches Five grow into an adult, which really creates uncomfortable and very out of character implications for her.

In no way am I defending the ship, I really REALLY do not like it in any way. It makes both Five and Lila act very out of character and is essentially a speedrun character assassination of both of them. I just find it very bothersome when people in fandom use very serious words to describe something incorrectly.

Apologies to anyone who actually reads this for the rant. But I feel that it needed to be said and I haven't seen anyone say it yet.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 13

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: hello! yes, finally, an update! thank you to all of you who were patiently waiting for this. tbh the Benophie announcement gave me a bit of a spark of motivation to finish this chapter! enjoy!

Series Masterlist

My dearest Y/N,

I am not sure what else to say other than I am sorry. I am sorry for making you feel as though you meant nothing to me. I must admit, due to my own self-induced heartbreak, I refused to read your letters previously. However, you will not find me doing that again. I have missed your friendship dearly. It is my own fault for doing this to us. I will never do that to you again, I promise.

Always feel free to write to me. You will receive a response from me, now and always.

Yours,

Benedict

You read the short letter over and over again. You're in a bit of disbelief, yet you're overjoyed. You kept your expectations low after sending that letter to Benedict. However, you're pleasantly surprised that not only has he written back, but he desires to renew your friendship once more.

You immediately go to your writing desk and begin to write a reply.

You spend some time writing everything down, how grateful you are for Ben, how you've been spending your days, as well as your moments of grief.

James' parents have provided good company to you. Ever since meeting you, that have been so kind and loving. They remind you of how your parents used to be prior to your mother's passing.

In your letter, your relay to Benedict how you've been trying to write poetry to help you process and cope James' passing, but nothing has come from these attempts.

Admittedly, Benedict was your muse for so long. After he left, James became your muse. Now he's gone. You don't want to think about Benedict potentially taking up the place as your muse again. A part of you feels as though that would be a betrayal to James, however, your muse was originally Benedict...

It's fine. You won't worry about it too much right now. You'll just take things day by day.

After you finish your letter, you fold and seal it. Calling upon a footman, you ask him to send it to Benedict and the young man leaves promptly.

__________________________

Dear Benedict,

I may be going stir-crazy here. Mama and papa have been very loving and supportive, however, I feel that, even in this large estate, I cannot get away.

I've been riding a lot more than usual now just to get out. I know, it is shocking to me as well since I was never fond of it. However, now I find myself wanting to ride every single day just to be out and about.

Maybe I should discuss with mama and papa if I can start accepting guests again. For I am not sure how much longer I can take this.

Anyway, I hope you are well. It has been some time since we last exchanged letters. I am sure you have been busy with the new exhibit coming up. I hope it is successful. Everyone will be able to see just how talented you are.

I am so proud of you and what you have achieved, Ben. Never forget that.

Yours,

Y/N

Benedict sighs, reading over your letter. He is visiting his family, taking break from working on his last painting for the exhibition.

"What ails you, brother?" Eloise asks as she sits beside him.

"Would it be improper if I were to visit Y/N soon?" he asks her with confliction written on his face.

"Why would it be improper? You two are friends again, yes?" Eloise asks confused.

He lets out a deep breath before explaining, "After the death of a spouse, it's customary to mourn them for a year before accepting guests and taking part is society again. It's only been sixth months."

Eloise scoffs, "Benedict, you know that I am the last person to tell you of what you should or should not do in terms of societal rules."

"Of course," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"What is it that you really want to ask me?"

Benedict remains silent, contemplating on how he should ask his sister.

The truth is, Benedict has felt whole again. Having you back in his life has brought so much happiness, familiarity, and comfort that he's been seeking for the past few years.

It's clear to him that his love for you will never seize. You will always remain a part of him and he will always hold you in a special place in his heart. However, if he takes this step to be close to you again, will it end in heartbreak once more? He doesn't want to think of such an outcome, but there's always a possibility. No. Nonsense. He can't think about that.

Benedict may love you, but you are first and foremost his best friend. Therefore, any feelings he has of you must be cast aside. Being your friend, in your company, speaking with you, being there for you, that is the priority. Benedict's feelings be damned. He will not make the same idiotic mistakes he made before. He's wiser and stronger now.

The relationship you two share is much more important, now that ever.

Benedict turns to Eloise and smiles, "I think I'll alright, Eloise," he stands with confidence.

His sister looks at him with uncertainty, "Are you sure? You're not going to do anything stupid again, are you?"

He shakes his head, "No. I promise, I am better. I will be better for Y/N."

"If you're sure," Eloise says before Benedict exits the sitting room.

______________________

The wind is blowing through your hair as you ride through the forest. It is midday and you have a lot of energy. James' horse, now yours, Bluebell, is fast and agile. She leaps over bushes and fallen tree trunks with ease.

You and Bluebell have gotten quite close these past few months. She's been able to grant you the freedom you've been aching for.

The first three months after James' passing were hard. Now six months later, you've finally accepted his death. It was unexpected and there was nothing you could do to help. You had loved him dearly and he accepted and understood you like very few have.

You are grateful for the short time you had with him, but now you'd like to slowly move on with your life.

You've been trying to get back into writing. Very few pieces have come out well. The rest thrown into the fireplace, burning to ash so you wouldn't have to see it again.

You've come to realize that the few works that have been kept, you've come up with while riding. Another reason why you have gone out a lot more. You're trying to find that spark again that you once had before James' passing.

You stop at a small creek flowing through the Montclair land. You dismount Bluebell and guide her to the water so she may quench her thirst and rest a bit. You sit by the creek, watching as the water flows by. You listen to the birds chirping, the trees swaying in the wind.

You think about how you've been feeling the past six months. How only in the late hours of the night is when you experienced the heart ache of James' passing, how you felt knowing you will no longer experience his freeing and doting love.

You pull out your journal from your satchel and begin to write:

Deep in the shadows where heartache grew

Mourning hearts match skies of grey

A love once bright as morning dew

Now drifted gone as night to day

The halls keep our memories

Our laughter and tears

Walking among those walls, memories sunken

deep within the seas

It's short yet conveys the feelings you want it too. You don't hate it, but it may need some work. So you keep it in your journal and stand. Some time has passed for Bluebell to catch a break. You mount her once more and head back to the estate in more of a trot rather than a flying gallop.

When you arrive back, you see Clarissa waiting for you.

"Something the matter?"

She gives you a small smile, "I know Jean Louis and myself have informed you of the mourning customs, however, it has been brought to our attention that sometimes one does not need twelve months to mourn the loss of her husband."

"Mother?" you ask her confused.

"I just know that you have always been more of a free spirited woman, which is why James was so drawn to you. I also know that you did love him dearly and I will not be upset that you shorten your mourning period. You wanted to be free from societal standards from the very beginning, therefore, we will allow you to start accepting guests back at this home. You are also free to go back to yours and James' home in London."

You're not sure why your mother-in-law is saying all of this, "I-Thank you, mama. I do appreciate all of that, however, I must admit I am confused why you are mentioning this."

"I received a letter from Mister Benedict Bridgerton. He was requesting to see you."

Your eyes widen in surprise, "I assure you, I didn't ask him to do that. I was planning on asking you myself."

Your mother-in-law chuckles, "Yes, well, it seems Mister Bridgerton beat you to it."

You sigh, "So it seems."

"Everyone mourns differently, cheri, we understand that you would also like to be in the company of others during this time. Mister Bridgerton is a close friend of yours, yes?"

You nod, "He is. I'll make sure we can be seen and-"

Clarissa chuckles, "You don't have to worry about those things here, cheri. I trust you. I will write back to Mister Bridgerton right now."

You curtsey, "Thank you, mama. As usual, your kindness is greatly appreciated."

The older woman sighs, walking up to you and cupping your face, "You never have to thank me for kindness. It is a mother's duty to listen and understand her children. Although you are not my blood, you are my daughter just the same."

Her words brings tears to your eyes. She reminds you so much of your own mother, it hurts a little. To know that your own mother can't be here with you during this time. You're sure she would have provided a lot of her wisdom and advice. Nonetheless, you are grateful to now call Madame Montclair as your own mother.

"Thank you, again."

"Of course," she kisses your cheek, "Best wash up before lunch, yes?"

"Right. Excuse me," you pick up your skirt and rush back into the house to have a quick bath.

[captainmera]

Mx.mera!! (No pressure take all the time you need ) when is the next tgb chapter ?? :3

It's on indefinite hold atm, dont expect updates anytime soon. I'm juggling a lot atm.

(None of this is directed at you personally. This is just my general state on working on TGB and why it is standing stale. If you're curious why it's not updating)

TGB was always meant to just be a fun side thing I did as a writing exercise. It helped me identify a lot of my writing flaws and hiccups, and also my writing style. Which has been very enlightening.

There's a lot with TGB I need to go back and edit, so I need to re-read my own work (which I've been informed is the length of two LOTR books?? Sweet jesus, I need to cut it down) before I get back to it.

My ideas have become much longer and drawn out than I wanted, the pacing is very slow (which is fine, but I wanna get to the fun parts.) Which is another problem I've identified. I'm writing book form, chapter by chapter, rather than the episodes I'm seeing in my head. And it's frustrating.

Because I see it as episodes, but write them out, the chapters get really long. And I spend a lot of time being anxious about that.

Drawing comics is easier because I don't have to describe feelings or environments. I can just show it right away.

And no, I'm not gonna draw TGB as a comic. That's too much. I tried drawing future scenes (as comics) I thought of and wanted to envision, but I got people being upset about it being spoilers. So I stopped doing that.

Actually, I got worried about anything I drew of any characters being spoilery because I'd get asks or comments about it being for TGB. I usually just delete comments or asks like that, so I don't have to see it, but reading so much of it builds up in my head, yknow?

I also got a few people (might've been just one person. They were on anon) that wouldn't stop berating me about Willow and Hunter's body types. And some people got REALLY weird and insinuated that drawing them hugging and kissing was sexual. And some people try to trick me into drawing fetish things (feederism being one).

So, in all honesty? I liked writing TGB, with all the flaws it has or not. I loved drawing Huntlow and the hexsquad; until people got 1) weird about it. 2) pushy about continuing it. 3) upset it wasn't writing fast enough or I didn't draw x, y, z.

It honestly has robbed me of all the fun to post fanart.

Which is a shame because I still like the characters a lot.

I know that if I update a chapter, I'll get a revival of people spamming me these things again, and I'm not mentally or emotionally strong r/n for any of that.

So.... I'm doing witteclaw. Because nobody is pressuring me to do anything. Not to update, not to draw x,y,z. People are just happy with whatever I put out in whatever pace I put it out in. I get to talk with people about theories about the show and discuss writing in a fun, mature, way.

I also just really like witteclaw in general. But I don't like ut more than the hex kids. There's just less demand and pressure.

Which makes hanging out in the fandom still fun.

Don't get me wrong. I love sweet huntlow, I love the noceda trio, the galactic duo are still my best boys (i miss drawing gus and hunter), and the emerald trio is my blorbos (I got so many pins and keychains u guys lol) and I love the hexsquad the most, I love soft lumity, I wanna draw more grunge Vee, Camila is best mum.

The owl house is SO much fun.

But the fandom is kind of demanding. And maybe that's my fault for having open requests. But I don't regret that, I do enjoy art requests.

But people got less polite and more demanding, and some got angry(?), and some use lingo that I understand is meant to be funny but comes across as incredibly entitled and mean spirited. Some also don't seem to understand I'm a person, and that all art takes time. I had a person once get upset that I didn't out enough effort into their request as I had into another. Which... girl, you're not paying me, sit down.

It got pretty uncomfortable. It stole the fun out of drawing similar things for people who asked nicely and enthusiastically. I also realised a lot of these people read TGB, since requests were often about that.

It wouldn't always be art requests. It would just be a straight-up request to write the next chapter already.

TGB was fun, until the pressure to prioritise it became the majority from people who followed me. and people wrote things like:

Tbf that's the only one who dared to be that public about it. But I get asks like this at least once a week, and I turned off DMs because it happened every second to third day.

It's like.... not very nice or cool, yknow? :,(

it genuinely has made me feel really sad about working on my passion project IBWR too. Because people kept making it pretty clear they were annoyed I spent time on something else than what they were following me for.

It's like, whatever I guess, but it still hurts.

TD;LR

No, no tgb anytime soon. A few people killed the party, and I need time to like it again how I used to. Without the enjoyment of creating and writing, and enjoying the process, bring robbed from me.

Thanks.

Maybe I just need thicker skin I dont know. I'm trying to find a good balance with it. People are allowed to like/dislike my work and comment on it. I don't mind critique. It's just not really been critique at all? It's just demands and that hits different on the heart.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies!

About some random stuff (twst related or not), plus a longer one about AzuIde Marriage AU.

Anonymous asked:

First TreyRid and now RookVil, Ryu do you wanna kill me?? I'm so weak for the "queen/their knight" ships (those two precisely), thank you thank you thank you, your art is amazing as always 🙏

Hehe I’m sorry, Anon! Please survive so I can keep harassing you with my drawings!

I always feel like we post these two ships all the time, but I guess I’m just delusional?? But luckily, there are a lot of sketches of them that we’d like to finish and post one day, so you’ll definitely see more of them eventually.

Thank you for your kind words <3

Anonymous asked:

I love the random Stich figure amidst all those anime boys

He is my favourite anime boy, Anon 🥰

The figure is pretty old, but I’ve been thinking about starting to collect more Stitch figures lately lol We’ve been having a lot of cursed Stitch-related discussions…

But still, there are just so many cute ones. Like this one for example.

Anonymous asked:

What do you think about the headcanon of Demisexual Killua Zoldyck? So many people get defensive saying he could only be gay, but you're more open minded, so I wanted to know your opinion!

We don’t headcanon characters’ sexualities, so I don’t have an opinion about it. Sorry.

Anonymous asked:

What do we think of old Vil??

Sexy grandpa!

Jokes aside, I really love this segment, and I love how they made Vil’s beauty “fade away” without really holding back much; I think it was important to convey the point. I still want to draw him being a stylish sexy old grandpa one day though lol

Anonymous asked:

As someone who was constantly getting crushes on my teachers/professors, the TWST fandom needs more student x teacher ships

You are absolutely right, Anon. Crushing on your teacher/professor is a very real thing, and channeling that feeling through characters or just imagining them going through something like that is so much fun.

I think a lot of students have a crush on Crewel, but for a lot of them it’s just Stockholm Syndrome lol He is so strict that when he suddenly compliments his student, they begin to melt… I think Deuce suffered from that once or twice, this poor boy.

Anonymous asked:

In relation to the question about the marriage au, I noticed that you said that Azul was crazy about Idia. Is there a reason he’s like this but Idia isn’t? Does Azul like Idia more than he likes him and, if so, was it always like this? Or did this happen in time?

Like I mentioned in another reply about them, Azul has more to gain from their relationship than Idia, and he himself rationalises this obsession by thinking that Idia is his golden ticket, his door to a lot of opportunities, power and wealth. Getting married to Idia is such a check-mate to him that he is very possessive over Idia… all of that is true, of course, but not the only reason why Azul feels the way he does.

Azul did end up falling in love with Idia overtime because underneath all of his greed and ambition, Azul really wants companionship and genuinely enjoys being with Idia and spending time with him. He enjoyed playing boardgames with him, enjoyed solving puzzles with him, he enjoyed all of these things and he has a big soft spot for Idia that he doesn’t want to acknowledge properly. He doesn’t even think that he needs to because Idia is already his spouse, how closer could two people get? And yet, Azul craves for more, for something that he can’t quite buy with money – for Idia to be genuinely in love with him as much as he is in love with Idia. This is something that happens deep inside Azul’s heart, mind you, but it does affect the way he acts.

Idia is very aware that Azul mainly sees him as an investment, not even a business partner or anything, and he doesn’t really mind that because he never really wanted to be anything more than that, but this could also be one of the reasons Idia wouldn’t allow himself to get more invested in their relationship, and wouldn’t allow his own feelings for Azul to blossom as much as Azul’s did. There is a disconnect between them that prevents them from being vulnerable with each other and committing to being an actual couple… and none of them really think that this is something that they genuinely want or need. Whatever they have, it works, so they keep being together like that.

Sigh, these two…

[danandphilplay]

*just want to clarify that by short form I mean youtube video uploads not youtube shorts. like videos to the channel not to the shorts/tiktok like content bit.

my answer to this is kind of one long yap. also did not put a third option for no preference bc ik a lot of answers will be ill watch anything from them and whilst i get that i want to see if there is an actual preference between the two so pls pick which u like/prefer or even engage with more

I think generally I prefer long content but it is also very dependent upon what the video is about. what I am trying to get at tho is I would love to see dan and phil play some different longer game series. yes I am thinking about life is strange AGAIN but I really would like a series like that and I genuinely would not mind if the wait between videos was longer than more frequent short form videos

just my opinion tho bc obviously we have no say over the dnp games channel but I feel long form game series may be a popular move?? but at the same time people may not have the time to watch and keep up with long videos/series. in the example of life is strange I guess the actual first game is quite old now but I still see people playing it on youtube for the first time and it’s still a popular game so I don’t really think that is an issue. obviously dnp know what sorts of games and uploads get more views and engagement (not saying that that’s the most important thing about uploading but it is definitely important to consider) so that impacts what they play too. hmmm I don’t know how to phrase it so I hope it sounds alright buttttt I do wonder if long form content or just a new series would do better on the channel and bring in new viewers? there is obviously a huge nostalgia factor with dapg and there’s still the core fandom that engages but I wonder whether content length impacts any growth in new viewers?

there is clearly the issue with long form content simply taking way longer. it obviously takes longer for dnp and their editors but also for viewers to have the time to spend on a series so maybe long form is not a popular move bc of that reason

nowww this also leads to a 4th option I wanted in the poll but I took out is whether people would want dapg youtube shorts. because reallllly super short content like shorts reels tiktok whatever else is so popular atm and so many highlights or funny moment clip things exist I wonder if that is a direction dapg will go in. I know dan isn’t rly a fan of all that especially tiktok but imo some of phil’s youtube shorts on lessamazingphil are still funny I just wonder if dapg shorts will ever become a thing and not even necessarily new content just like highlights or idk outtakes of a video like the ones anthony posts from his interviews. the highlights of the vid with dan seem to have got a lot of engagement too although ik anthony is a very popular creator still and his rebranded content continues being popular so I just wonder if dapg will ever have that kinda shorts thing going on??

I also think the times they’ve used the community tab to do polls or just general discussion has been fun and it just kinda gives the channel more personality imo!

again I just wanted to yap there is like 0 seriousness in this or what dapg should post bc I do watch whatever they put out I just wonder if there will be a shift in content and if that would impact the channel overall. idk!!

[bronte-deserves-better]

In honor of pride month, I think I'm gonna do a little ramble about why Bronte/Emery genuinely appeals to me as a ship dynamic, even though I've been in this fandom long enough to remember that it started as a joke. More below the cut because this got longer than planned.

So first off, Bronte and Emery are similar in some ways. To me, their connecting thread is their shared devotion to the Council. Bronte is the longest-serving Councillor, and when the main crew is suspicious of the Council having a leak in Everblaze, Fitz dismisses the idea that Bronte could be that leak outright. Bronte is said to be very dedicated to his job. Similarly, we see Emery make every effort to maintain the Council's reputation and standing over the course of the books. As the Council's spokesperson, he rarely shares his own opinion, and instead acts as the voice of the Council. (Which makes Emery a fascinating character in his own right to me, but that's a different post.)

So Bronte and Emery have some shared values: the Council. They're both believers in the system, generally upholding the established power structures rather than transgressing them like Oralie or Kenric.

But their duality is also fascinating to me. Bronte is strong-willed and opinionated, "infamously struggling" with the edict that Councillors should not speak against the Council's decisions even if they don't agree. He clearly has his own moral framework; even though it often aligns with the Council, when it doesn't, he never hesitates to speak against the rest. Bronte is blunt, harsh, and a rather abrasive character.

By contrast, Emery is smooth-tongued and charming. Unlike Bronte, he almost never speaks his own opinion. Instead, as I said above, he acts as the voice of the Council. I think it must require a certain kind of personality and patience to be a successful spokesperson; even when decisions are made which you personally disagree with, you have to maintain the facade of unity.

I think it's this duality which draws them to each other, in a way. Neither of them could be each other, and consequently they find the other equally fascinating and frustrating. It's easy to imagine that Emery is sometimes frustrated by Bronte's outspoken nature, which he sees as undermining the unity of the Council. Bronte, meanwhile, wouldn't understand how Emery can set aside his principles so easily. It's frustrating, but it's also fascinating. It draws them to be curious about each other.

Another aspect to this is the isolation of the Councillors. We know Councillors are forbidden from having romantic relationships or children canonically; some people have extrapolated from this the idea that Councillors are also encouraged to not maintain contact with their families. But even setting explicit regulations aside, the Councillors are deeply lonely characters. They each live (theoretically alone) in a vast castle, making their decisions about the elven world largely in isolation. How many secrets must the Council know that they are forbidden to share with anyone else? How much does their work keep them from forming connections with other elves, even ones that they aren't technically forbidden from having, like friendships?

As far as I imagine it, the Councillors, by virtue of their positions, are deeply isolated from close relationships with anyone outside the Council, which makes their relationships with each other all the more crucial. The rest of the Council are people that they spend long periods of time in discussion with, must work with to preserve the safety of the elven world, and the only other elves who can truly understand what all of this is like. The Councillors are forbidden from forming 'attachments', but under those conditions, it's not hard to see why some Councillors do form attachments to one another: canonically, Kenric and Oralie, or not so canonically, Bronte and Emery.

In my fic your drama (the touch of your hand) (which is on my AO3 SemperAeternumQue and you should definitely check out-), I imagine Bronte and Emery as having somewhat of a friends/coworkers with benefits relationship. In AUs, I might imagine them in a more traditionally romantic dynamic, but in the canon universe of Keeper, traditional romance just doesn't seem to fit them. Both of them are too dedicated to their work to pursue anything they see as overly romantic or breaking their oaths; they aren't in love the way Oralie and Kenric were, but they find a sort of comfort in one another. They are some of the only people capable of understanding the position that the other is in: their shared dedication to the Council intermingled with the sheer loneliness of being a Councillor.

And that's fascinating to me! I love dynamics that for whatever reason can't be categorized nearly into traditional relationship categories! Bronte and Emery's canon dynamic is absolutely fascinating because of so many things: the unconventional nature of the relationship, the fact that they're both doing something that could be seen as breaking their oaths- oaths that we know they both are canonically quite dedicated to- and the resulting cognitive dissonance, the duality and contrast between their personalities that draws them to one another, the fact that they can never fully understand each other but take comfort in the other nonetheless- I just love everything about what canon!Brontemery would be like.

(Oh yeah, and a final note because I thought of it midway through: I've spent a lot of this ramble contrasting brontemery to koralie, which wasn't intentional at first, but I do think Bronte and Emery's dynamic in canon would provide an interesting contrast/foil to Kenric and Oralie's dynamic. They’re both pairs of Councillors, but one largely upholds the existing system and one acts rebelliously.

At first glance, Kenric and Oralie seems like the most wholesome, if tragic relationship, while Bronte and Emery does not, particularly as they both take an more antagonistic role at different points in the series and are generally not depicted as good people. However, as we’ve seen canonically, Oralie and Kenric’s relationship had some darker aspects, while I imagine that whatever else about them, Bronte and Emery’s relationship with each other is largely good. Bronte and Emery are two characters that rarely act against the system, but break one of their sacred oaths as Councillors to be together. By contrast, Oralie and Kenric pine for each other but refuse to break that specific oath, despite all the other treason they both commit. They're both pairs of Councillors, but couldn't be more different otherwise. (I also have a rant about how Bronte and Oralie's characters contrast one another in interesting ways, but that's again a different post.))

In conclusion, am I normal about kotlc? No.

[elvisabutler]

my heart's already sinned

summary: you are known around campus as a bit a harlot when it comes to sleeping with professors. it's a title you have earned rightfully but you want to change that. you've been taking steps to change that with professor presley, despite wanting to add him as the final notch in your metaphorical bedpost. too bad a wee bit of gossip has just ruined your plans for a potential happily ever after with him. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: professor! elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x student! female reader word count: 4136 warnings: big daddy elvis. elvis using a walking stick/cane. use of a cane to startle people. mild fantasizing about the cane. elvis is an asshole during sex. p in v sex ( unprotected, wrap it before you tap it ). mentions of praise kink. student and professor relationship ( everyone are of legal age ). religious talk. degradation ( kind of? ). use of the phrase harlot and jezebel to refer to someone who is sexually promiscuous. slut shaming. depressing sex. sex where everyone cums, it's not dubious consent or non consensual but no one really leaves the situation emotionally happy. emotionally draining sex. author's note: here's the final day, day 31 of kinktober, professor kink with elvis presley. so here's the thing this was originally going to be blood kink with whoever and all this jazz but no one picked it and i wanted to write professor elvis. and originally this was going to be a cult-ish style elvis as a religious studies professor. and then suddenly i went from oh he'll call the reader jezebel to- well this is a teaser of sorts for a longer fic ( i hesitate to call it a series, what it is- is really just probably a very very long fic or like a two part series with two long chapters ) where this has a happy ending once they fix the massive miscommunication that causes this piece to happen. enjoy, to be honest, because i really have fallen in love with writing this reader and elvis. pick your flavor of elvis you want to see, either real life or austin, i'm not picky. also thank @butlersxbirdy for helping me talk this out from the get go because we accidentally tripped into it. beyond that, thank you guys for reading so much of my kinktober stuff and putting up with me taking until the end of november to finish. i know i've got a few double dip days left but the main part of this is all done. and i'm so proud of myself for finishing it and delighted y'all enjoyed. honestly i might try something like this again because it was fun albeit a little stressful.

You shouldn't be doing this, you shouldn't be allowing yourself to do this again. Letting yourself play the whore- a title that you've earned and for the most part embrace- to yet another professor. You don't even really need it this time because your grades in Professor Presley's class have been fine, easily earned under his repeated praise and his idea that discussion about religion is better than "assigning you all a buncha papers I ain't plannin' on readin'". But maybe it was how he feels different, maybe it's in how when his hands touch your shoulders you feel a heat curl through your body. Maybe it's because the more time you spend in his office, the more you find out about him as a person- as the person beyond his title you find that you like him. He's a good man and you find that those are in such short supply around this campus.

So you wear the ironic white skirt. You wear the white mini skirt that has your roommate looking disapproving but all knowing at the same time. The underwear under it can barely be called as such, but it would give him something of yours if all went well this afternoon. It should, you had seen how he looked the past few classes since he came back from his missed one. You had seen how your tests to see if he might be amicable to the idea of doing something with you were working.

The way he tripped over his words every so often when you crossed your legs? Yeah, you had him where you wanted him, he just needed that last push. He just needed that final push to have you arching your back for him, to have him on his back while you ride him, to have his hands in your hair as you nuzzled at his crotch, as you mouthed at his cock, as you- as you reenacted every thought that had crossed your mind in those wee hours of the morning or in the night.

Professor's Presley's classroom is one of those classrooms you kind of hate with long desks that you have to share and that curve, causing the people toward the ends to feel more than a little cramped. The irony of knowing that you would not have picked the seat you have- the seat Elvis picked for you- if you had been given the choice. It's the last seat before a break for the stairs and then the next table starts, you get stuck either having to leave first or get stuck leaving last by virtue of this seat. Still, it made you pay attention better than you're used to, made it easier for you to have an excuse to stay behind and get to know him better. Maybe that was the problem, that Elvis had taken such care with your questions as silly as you swear they had been in the beginning. Maybe if he hadn't have done that you wouldn't- You wouldn't be doing what you're doing right now. You wouldn't have dragged this out, you wouldn't have waited to make a real proper move on him. It- It needed to feel right though, feel maybe not perfect but feel like it wouldn't backfire on you. Today felt like it was the right day. besides, this was going to be one of his more boring lessons from what he had told you about his lesson plans for the semester.

Arriving early to your classes wasn't necessarily your forte except for when it came to Professor Presley's, something about about knowing you'd be one of the first people he'd see in the room always sent a minor thrill through you and today was no exception. You've got a text book and some notes for another class open in front of you trying to use your time wisely while waiting when you hear the telltale tap of Elvis's cane hitting the ground. You know he needs it to help him walk, his knees sometimes giving him trouble but you'd be lying if you didn't cause a curl of arousal in your abdomen when he'd sometimes use it to rap the desk in front of students who weren't paying attention. The closer the noise gets and the closer the subtle scent of Elvis- cigars, Pepsi and so many other notes of his soap and every tiny thing- starts to waft toward you the more you sit up straight, your blouse stretching over your shoulders as you do. The tap stops by you and you wait to hear his rumbling voice telling you what he tells you every day a simple phrase- "glad to see you where you're supposed to be"- only this time you don't hear it. You feel his hand- his warm and large and almost overwhelming hand- on your shoulder but you don't hear the praise that comes with it. The little joke the two of you have from that second day of class where you had been the only one to remain in your assigned seat.

Your eyes dart next to you, noting how you think he's leaning on the cane a little more today- he only does that when he's tired so maybe he just had a rough night. It was fine, you could handle a lack of praise because he had at least touched you, it was perfectly acceptable. A smile crosses your features as you look up at him.

"Excited about today's lecture, I can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts." You're only partially lying, some of your classmates do offer some interesting insights but for the most part you find a lot of people treat this as an easy class when they truly shouldn't.

At his laugh- at the laugh that shakes his whole body you fully turn to look at him, taking in the all white ensemble of a suit jacket, a simple shirt and suit pants. You find it hard to breathe for a moment, your mind wondering if this is what angels are supposed to look like, if this is what would greet you when you die. Just barely do you avoid having your mouth just gaping at how he looks, instead choosing to bite your lip before looking down at your notes as he speaks.

"Don't you be sinnin' like that in my classroom, you know I hate this lesson, no need t' sugarcoat it." His hand finally leaves your shoulder and you shiver just slightly at the loss. "Should've worn somethin' warmer, darlin'. Or brought a jacket."

You shrug innocently as he starts to walk down the final step to reach his podium. "I wasn't cold earlier. I'll think about that next time."

The only answer you receive as everyone trickles into the class is a hum of mild disapproval as he unbuttons his suit jacket, sitting down on the stool by the podium, leaning his cane on the podium itself. Professor Presley always waits five minutes before starting his lessons, allowing for the final few stragglers to enter in before he speaks- after all no use in teaching if everyone isn't there.

His eyes normally flit over the classroom, bringing in the half asleep students, the bored ones and everything in between to whatever topic he's speaking on. It's something you admire- his ability to command a room like it's the easiest thing known to man. But today it's different, he seems to only be focusing on you and you're not too sure if that's a good thing or not. Still you almost feel bad with what you're planning on doing but it's now or never and so you wait until he's at a part you know is pretty impassioned before you cross your legs, watching his face for any reaction. His eyes move down from your face and he stumbles over his next word, forgetting what he needs to say and letting out a cough before shaking his head as he glances at the boys sitting near you.

"Told this lecture a million times and still forget the words, this why ya keep your notecards." He chuckles and half the room joins in before he continues. There's a certain set of words he says that have your pussy clenching at nothing under your skirt before you take a deep breath and cross your legs yet again. This time he stutters on the rest of his sentence before huffing out a laugh and another joke you don't hear because you see how heated his gaze was at what was under your desk, at hopefully what was under your skirt. You keep going this way and you see him getting more and more flustered before he finally has to lean against the podium and you swear you hear a growl. When he looks up, you swear his gaze could set you on fire if given the opportunity to and your pussy clenches yet again as you clench your thighs together and rub, desperate for some friction.

"You all are in luck. Ain't feelin' my best today, you're all dismissed, see ya on Friday. Don't forget what to do that readin' before then! Ain't here to just debate myself!" Elvis's voice is loud enough that you know everyone had to have heard him even if there was a distinct lack of grumbles acknowledging it. You move to pack away your notes into your back and stand up when you're startled by the sharp bang of Elvis's cane on your portion of the long desk.

"You're not goin' anywhere darlin', we still got our date in my office." His voice is low, practically a murmur and the use of the word date confuses you, because he's never referred to it like that and neither have you. The word has warmth spreading in your body from your heart outward and you can't help but preen a little at it. You hope he didn't notice, at least not yet.

You slowly nod and give him a small smile. "Okay, Elvis, I'll be there in five minutes like normal."

He doesn't respond back or grasp your shoulder as he normally would as he leaves, another strange duo of things that you register as out of place, that you register as not normal before shaking your head. It's probably nothing, and besides you had gotten his attention, you had seen how he looked up your skirt. You gather the rest of your stuff, shoving it into your bag and standing up, taking the well trodden path to his office. You expect to see him at his desk, but you don't expect to see him sitting the way he is, with his legs splayed open- almost as an invitation for you. You move to shut the door and are about to sit in the chair on the other side of Elvis before he shakes his head.

"Lock the door, darlin'." He orders, his tone leaving no room for argument. You do as your told, ever the good girl for Professor Presley the good girl who makes a move to sit down in the chair only to find herself pressed against the desk.

Elvis is a large person just in height, let alone any other parts of him, you've known this from the second you stepped foot in his classroom and from the moment you woke up clothed in his bed after being so exhausted you couldn't make your way back to your apartment after helping him grade papers. Nothing about knowing his size could have prepared you for how it feels to have his whole body pressed against you. How the warmth of his chest seeps into every bit of cold that had ever settled into your bones. How the press of his muscles, of his fat of his everything against your behind made you feel so small and yet like you could conquer the world with that weight behind you, that strength behind you. How you can feel every part of him so alive behind you. How the scent that is uniquely him overwhelms your senses and makes your brain narrow into a world that consists of cigars, sweat, your perfume and your seperate soaps. You swear you stop breathing, the motion of how to do it completely lost to your brain. You try and focus on how Elvis is breathing, trying to mirror it because if he's going to cage you against the desk helping you remember how to breathe is the least he could do.

His breath is a ghost against your neck, tickling you and sending a fresh burst of arousal into your panties- as much as you could call them that- you know they're ruined, know that it's a miracle you're not actually dripping on the floor. Your knees start to tremble as your throat lets out a whine unbidden and without your permission. This is too much and too little, you need more and you need less and you hear Elvis growl as he puts his thigh in between your thigh, his knee briefly brushing your clit and earning a mix of another whine and a gasp from you. He uses his height to his advantage, leaning you forward just a bit as his hand, his hand covered in so many silver rings touches your overheated thigh. You hiss at the temperature change before you hear him speak.

"You think acting like a jezebel in front of me is going to get you what you want, don't ya? You really do just want to play with boys for the rest of your life, don't ya?" The words are growled and you can feel the vibration in his chest from them as he inches his hand higher and higher. "Want the boys to leave you crying for more. Can't get a real man to fuck you."

In the back of your mind his use of the word jezebel feels like a bucket of cold ice water being poured on you. You're- you're supposed to be a woman he's proud of, he's been calling you a good girl, such a bright young woman, why is he calling you a jezebel? That thought is in the back of your mind and you refuse to drag it forward, refuse to drag it into the light because you don't want to think about what that means. Think that maybe you read this very wrong- that you read him so very wrong. That the man your brain has helpfully given the nickname Big Daddy to might not be the man who deserves that nickname.

Your voice is a little shaky from arousal when you speak, your hand moving down to where his hand where his rings are touching your skin because his hand isn't moving any farther up your thigh. "Elvis- that's not my pussy."

He laughs but there is barely any humor in it as he tightens his grip on your thigh, his rings digging into your flesh. "Why would I touch a harlot's pussy?"

The thought in the back of your head rears its ugly head again and you have a harder time pushing it back. That's twice he's called you a name you've never heard him use to refer to you, a name you've only heard him say during lessons. No, this has to be a joke, or something he likes to do. You could deal with that, tell him you don't like being called that and he'd understand. He'd understand you don't want him calling you that, everyone else can but not him. You whine once again, your legs falling open more, forcing you to lean more onto the desk. Your skirt rides up and if Elvis looks you know he'll see how soaked you are.

"I wanted your attention. This sort of attention!" You think your voice is inching toward a shout, but you're very aware that you're in his office and you don't want anyone to think he's hurting you- to have anyone think any less of him.

There's a second where you swear you hear him groan against you but you can't tell, your brain rattling about in your head, your thoughts jumping everywhere. His hand finally moves up and is right next to your pussy before you hear his voice in your ear, feel him right against your ear. "You want this? Want another professor to fuck this pussy? Want me to fuck your pussy? Make you cum all over me?"

Any answer or thought you have in your head just flutters away at the question and you try and rock against his thigh, try and have his knee press against your clit again to no avail, his free hand gripping your hip and forcing you to stay still. You purse your lips, trying to think, trying to figure out what you want to answer, because you want that so bad you can taste it. That's not acceptable to him though, and he hisses his next words. "Jezebel, answer me. Do you want this? Do you want me to fuck your pussy? Make you cum on my cock? You got it hard, do you want to do something about it?"

There it is again, that stupid name and your brain knows what that means, your brain knows that's got to be what he thinks of you, what he wants to paint you as. It's- you can hear it from everyone else but not him. Your brain wants to dwell but your aching cunt thinks otherwise, so you push it aside and nod. "I do! I want you to fuck my pussy. Make me cum on your cock. Give me your cock, Professor."

What happens next feels like a whirlwind, you feel the cool air of the room against your ass as he flips up your skirt, and feel the cool metal of his rings as he palms your ass before he lightly smacks it. You let out a yelp, falling against the desk even more than you already were and you swear you hear Elvis curse but you think it's swallowed in how you can only hear your heartbeat in your ears. The hand that was on your thigh finally touches your cunt and you keen softly as he starts to finger you, making sure you're stretched just enough to take him. A moment passes as you hear the clink of his belt buckle and hear the thump of his pants hitting the ground and you want to say something about turning you around before you feel his cock enter you in a rush. Your head falls against the desk as you groan at the intrusion, he's larger than you've taken in a while but it gives you a healthy sort of stretch, has you fluttering around his cock as he mutters something you can't hear. His thrusts are faster than you thought he'd do- faster than you thought you deserve in that moment but you go with it, because you feel your orgasm approaching and it's making it so you don't think about how this isn't- you're not sure this is how you wanted it, because somehow this feels empty. It's enjoyable and you like it but something is missing.

After a particularly rough thrust you find yourself unable to push aside that feeling, you're so close to cumming but the feeling that something is missing from this makes it so you can't do it. "Elvis, please touch me. You're a touchy person, please.." You don't even know what you're asking for because he is touching you just- not in the way you want. Not- fully. Not lovingly.

You expect a response but the one you get isn't what you want to hear and you'd like to blame how you miss the first few words on your brain trying to protect you and make you think he actually cares more than he does.

"Wettest fucking pussy, you love this. You love having another professor's dick in you. Got the one professor no one else can get, right? The one who doesn't sleep with his students, doesn't let girls like you crawl into his lap looking all pretty." Elvis is muttering all this filth against your skin and you think maybe this is just dirty talk, you can do dirty talk.

You bite your lip before you nod. "Love knowing it, love knowing I've got your dick in me, stretching me out better than the rest. Knew i was right to wait for you."

The last bit is choked out, your voice cracking, the emotions of the statement too conflicted for your brain to parse out. You thought you knew. You thought you were right to wait for him, to draw this out. How did you read this so wrong? How did you fall into another professor's lap like this knowing you're going to get tossed aside?

Elvis lets out a pleased groan before he says anything else as his hand moves to allow his fingers to circle your clit. "You gonna cum all over my cock? Gonna cum like a good girl?"

That's all you need and you cum with a whimper, your body falling completely onto the desk as you feel Elvis continuing a few more thrusts before following you. He's careful- surprisingly- to not fall on you, allowing himself to fall on the other side of you on the desk. You try to not whine when he pulls out of you but you can't help it as you look at him next to you on the desk. Maybe if you look enough you'll see the person you've gotten to know, see the Elvis that you were truly falling for who you thought might have fallen for you too.

He looks back at you and you swear you see that flicker, see how he looks so gently at you and like you've hung the sun but it's gone as quick as it came in a scrunched up face as he stands up straight and holds out a hand for you to grab so you can stand up and have something to hold onto until your legs become a little more settled. You shouldn't take his hand, you should just lay on his desk but you want him to pull you up and you want him to hold you so you take it. You take it and he hoists you up and lets you lean against him, lean into him before he steps away like he's been burned.

That settled it, didn't it? The read you had on him was so very very wrong. This was actually worse than everyone else because at least they didn't hide their intentions in praise like this, in genuine care like this. Your hand moves to touch him in a last ditch attempt to get something out of him, an explanation at least before he grabs at your wrist and sets down your arm. You shut your eyes and bite your lips to keep yourself from crying in front of him, he didn't deserve the pleasure. "Should I leave?"

He looks at you as he's pulling on his pants. "Yeah, you should, you got that class in thirty minutes. Know she counts attendance as part of the grade."

You shake your head as you straighten out your skirt. "I'm not going."

Elvis's fury at that sentence doesn't make sense to you but you look at him and see him practically snarling. "The hell you aren't. You've had perfect attendance. Know ya can do the subject in ya sleep but- ya gotta go."

You want to explain that the only words circling in your head are jezebel and harlot and professor and every single thing he said to you just keeps cycling over and over and you're not sure you could even begin to pay attention. He's not privy to that any more though, he lost the right to have that information. instead you shrug.

"I'll go Professor Presley." You pause and hold out your hand. "Can I have my underwear back now?"

You had intended for him to keep them to be flirty but now you just want them back but you can see on his face- you can see his face, you're not too sure you're getting them back.

He shakes his head. "All the others got to keep a trophy. Heard 'bout 'em. I ain't good 'nough to get one, now? No, think I'll keep 'em."

There's a part of you that wants to fight him, wants to grab your underwear from him and leave, but instead you swallow and straighten your blouse before turning and unlocking the door to leave, sniffling as you exit the room.

You're 10 minutes late for your next class.

[voxofthevoid]

I'm so sorry you get so many hate messages. You're always so cool about it and don't let them get to you but I know it must suck anyway. So I just want to say I think all of your jjk opinions are correct. But seriously, your characters are always on point and I especially love how you write Yuji. People are crazy for complaining about something you chose to write and share with the world. Anyway, you're a really skilled writer and I love all of your fics and ideas, so please keep sharing them!

Thank you, anon 💗

I do appreciate the support, especially because I've been in a bit of a shit mood the last few days. This was a nice pick-me-up.

I won't deny I've been very lucky. Half of it is my internal workings; the hate messages piss me off, but they don't affect my confidence or creativity. However, I've been at this for well over a decade now, and my brain chemistry was never prone to things like imposter syndrome. Newer authors or authors who struggle with self-esteem issues often don't have that internal scaffold.

The external support I get from you guys is the other half. It's the community aspect that makes a fandom worth staying in for me, and if I were to be treated solely or mostly with hostility, I'd have packed up my bags and found a new home a long time ago. I have no control over which ship/show I fall in love with, but a hostile fandom is the greatest killer of passion. The reason I stayed so long in the MCU was that its people were wonderful and vocally so. JJK isn't quite that pleasant overall (younger, more drama-prone fandom, I suppose), but the vast majority of my readers are amazing, supportive, and very kind. That's why I'm still here.

I had an exchange with another author on Reddit the other day, and they were saying that the reason they quit writing for their current fandom was that, when they got harassed, the larger fandom's reaction was to ignore or actively dismiss the harassment. I see plenty of posts/discussions in fandom spaces, from subreddits to blogs on here, about people getting bullied out of fandoms because of the toxicity of a few bad actors and the apathy of the rest.

I don't post/share all of the hateful messages I get because some of them straight-up don't deserve to be inflicted on human eyeballs, and they're blatant, unrepentant attempts to actively hurt my confidence as a writer and my dignity as a human being. I do not have sufficiently harsh words for the kind of filth who'd do that.

I hate that people have the fucking audacity to try this and that it's distressingly effective most of the time. Nobody wants to spend their hobby hours fending off assholes. I don't know if fandom as a whole has become more hostile recently, but I do find the overall atmosphere more toxic and downright violent than it was when I started actively participating in fandom in 2014. For all our sakes, I hope it gets better and soon.

Sorry, that got way longer than I intended 😅

On a cheerier note, I'm delighted to hear you enjoy my takes on JJK and its characters! And nothing makes me happier than hearing you like how I write Yuuji in particular. Thank you again 🥰💗

[scifrey]

Deleted Scene: Take Root

For those who love the "Cling Fast" / Hob Adherent series: this is, regrettably, not a new story. The series still ends where it ended.

However, it used to have a different ending. In that different version, instead of "Hold Tight" and "Keepsakes: A Plane Ticket", I planned to resolve the Daniel Hall and Orpheus storylines by writing a much longer multi-chapter fic about Hob finding out he still has living descendants through another TV show. In this story, Morpheus would have gotten jealous of Hob's living children, and spend more and more time asleep, with Daniel, until Despair & Desire finally came to Hob to tell him the truth about Orpheus.

I wrote this first chapter and then really, really struggled with the story after that. A long conversation with @late-to-the-magnus-archives led me to realize that if I did the Walkers/Daniel/Orpheus thing this way, by making them a negative thing in Hob's life, by choosing to stretch the trope of miscommunication between lovers, and by basically reverse-uno-ing all the work Hob did to grieve his brief mortal family, then I was doing a disservice to events and character growth in "Cling Fast".

Thematically it might have been a good fit, but it was perilously close to manufacturing unrealistic dissent for the sake of drama, and not because this is how the characters would have actually reacted in this situation.

So, I abandoned this tale, found better, kinder ways to resolve the Walkers/Daniel/Orpheus storylines, and reworked the series to be as it currently stands.

However.

I am still a little in love with this tiny fragment of a tale, and wanted to share it with you. Just for funsies.

Happy reading!

-J

Status: Deleted Scene from a story I won't be completing.

Series: the Hob Adherent series.

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Includes some comics canon, and some cameos from the wider Gaiman-verse, but it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the story.

Rating: Gen

Warnings: Discussions of grief and in-canon character death.

Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Eleanor | Hob Gadling’s Wife/Hob Gadling (past)

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Matthew the Raven, Destruction of the Endless, Patrick the Bartender, Harriet Butler, Maisie Hampstead

TAKE ROOT

When the camera crew walks into The New Inn, Hob assumes it has something to do with Cardenio. The filming request had come through Harriet, and as Hob trusts her not to chuck him into any situation that would endanger him, or his husband, and their secret, he'd said yes without really looking into the details of the television program.

They'd asked to film inside the pub, and to interview him on camera. As this was just one in a long line of such requests, he'd set the date, and thought nothing more about it.

(When this lifetime was over, Hob was going to have to ask for a very heavy favour from little Daniel Hall, to ensure that no one remembered that his face matches that of Robert Gadlen the Sixth, sometime media darling of the mediaeval history studies world. Dream of the Endless had already pledged to make his uncles' transition as smooth as was in his power, thank goodness, but Hob was still nervous about all the footage floating around out there.)

What Hob didn't expect was for the crew to come in full guns blazing, so to speak.

"Oh, hello," he says, standing up from the banquette as a steady-cam, followed by the operator holding it, enter the pub.  "Welcome to The New Inn."

The red light at the camera's lens is on, warning the world that it's recording. He's suddenly very glad he let Matthew talk him into wearing his hot-professor outfit, and the very light makeup required for this sort of thing. His hair is still shorter than he’d like, the scar on the left side of his head from a gunshot wound finally hidden by the longer style, for which he’s grateful. He wouldn’t want anyone to see it and worry. 

Hob had kind of assumed that the crew would be dolling him up, but in the years since Elizabethan Manor he's learned that it never hurts to be camera-ready, just in case.

A man in a wireless headset enters behind the camera operator and waves at him, then points at the red light. 

Yeah, I got that, Hob thinks but doesn't say. He's not sure why they're filming right away, but he doesn't want to spoil whatever shot they have planned. Maybe they spoke to Surinder and found out what a terrible actor Hob is, and have decided that it's far better to get his First Reactions on camera than to ask him to pretend.

Hob doesn't mind, but it would have been nice to be warned first.

Actually, if he bothered to read Harriet's email with any kind of depth, he probably was.

Patrick, the only other person in the pub at present, drops behind the bar like a WWI private tripping into a trench, and then scuttles into the kitchen, presumably to warn Destruction to stay hidden if he doesn't want to be filmed. Dee is in the middle of making the day's crusty loaf, so nothing will pull the Endless from the kitchen, unless it's serious. 

Dee means business when he bakes.

"Thank you!" a young woman behind the PA says. She ducks around the other two folks, who are lingering in the doorway, and moves purposefully across the pub. Once she's firmly within the shot, she sticks out her hand. "I'm Maisie Hampstead."

"Hi Maisie, I'm Bob," Hob offers, shaking and then holding out a chair at his usual two-top for her because he's a gentleman, and old habits tend to kick in when he's wrong-footed. "What brings you to my humble pub?"

Maisie sets a heavy leather folder on the table between them, and for a second, Hob is terrified that this is a set up. That someone had hacked Harri's email, got him cornered, is about to reveal his terrible truth to a live-streamed audience, with a phalanx of nondescript cars and government scientists waiting in his front garden if he tries to run. 

He reminds himself that the literal god of warriors is just one wall away, covered up to his elbows in flour, and that even if he was taken out of here against his will, his inlaws are the most powerful and immutable forces in the universe. Nothing and no one can harm him. Also, he can't die, which makes him ruthless and vicious when it comes to protecting himself—he doesn't have to avoid injury the way other people do when engaging in combat. While bullet and stab wounds hurt, they can be ignored in favour of finishing a fight.

But Maisie just smiles at him, flush with genuine excitement, and flips back the cover of the folder to reveal a… a family tree.

Okay, so not a clandestine setup or sting operation.

But something just as fraught.

Hob's eyes go wide as he skims the names on it, he knows they do, and he's pretty sure he must look absolutely pole-axed, because that's how he feels. He knew the BBC Historics department had mocked up a family tree for Elizabethan Manor, but he's never had occasion or desire to sit down and study it. He was already chastined enough by the fact that they found him in the first place. He had no patience to read in black and white where exactly he screwed up in hiding his past identities.

Hindsight, as the saying goes, is 20/20.

But the cameras are on him and he can’t exactly snap the cover shut and shout them all out the door. Not after he’d told Hari that he’d be game. So he reads on.

At the top of the tree, in computer-generated font, it reads:

Hob's breath catches in his throat as he runs the tips of his fingers over first Eleanor's, then Robyn and Wee John's names. It's taken a lot of work, but he's proud that he's able to have this out-of-the-blue reminder of their love and loss, and not immediately react negatively. He is joyfully reminded of that time of his life, seeing their names, instead of triggered.

But… no, wait, something's different…

"There's a… there's another line here," Hob croaks, following the dots downward from Robyn's box. This wasn't part of the graphic when they shared it on the show. "There shouldn't be another line here. He never…" Hob flattens his palm over the next row down on the family tree, not ready to read it yet.

Instead, he looks up at the young woman across from him, drinking in the sight of her like a parched man at a wholly unexpected, but nonetheless welcome, oasis.

She's blonde, hair flaxen-yellow and straight as a pin. But her eyes are dark, soulful brown, crinkling just enough at the corner to put her in her late twenties, he guesses. Detached earlobes. Complexion a few shades darker than his own, but still within the realm of olive-skinned. She's wearing light makeup, eyelashes mascaraed dark and lips painted and funky plum red. They curl on one side when she realises what he's doing, what he's looking for, the smile secret and mischievous in one corner.

And she has a cleft chin.

"Oh my god," Hob breathes. His eyes burn. There's a lump in his throat the size of a fist. He swallows hard. Excitement and fear and confusion swirl up in his middle, nauseating and fluttery.

He wants to reach out and grab her face between his hands, and hold her there, cataloguing everything. He wants to shove away from the table and race up the stairs and start shouting at the framed sketches of Robyn over his bed. He wants to curl up under a weighted blanket and hide from the truth until his husband coaxes him out.

Instead he just sits at the table, mouth hanging open like a landed fish.

He wishes Morph was here, and at the same time is unaccountably glad that his husband is in the middle of his daily ramble through the nearby Wapping Woods park. This is, he thinks, something he wants to discover on his own, first. Something to cherish and to hold, just for him, before he has to share it with the wider world.

Entirely on camera, of course.

Like all his major emotional revelations lately, it seems.

Ha.

 "You… he… did he…?"

"See for yourself," Maisie coaxes him gently.

Slowly, tremblingly, Hob lifts his hand away from the paper.

"Robyn had a son," Hob whispers, voice wavering. His hands are shaking. He presses them between his thighs, under the table, where the camera can't see. "I had a—" he cuts himself off with a choked noise, wet and thick with longing.

"They weren't married," Maisie explains, not oblivious to his surprise and distress, and quick to reassure. Though, from her perspective, he guesses it must be very odd, to see someone falling to pieces over family revelations that are already centuries past. "They never got the chance to."

She slides another piece of paper out from under the family tree, a copy of a handwritten letter, and Hob snatches it from her hands perhaps too eagerly. It's an account of a fight in the alleyway behind a tavern, written from the perspective of a bystander—no, not a bystander. A witness.

A patron at the tavern the night Robyn died.

There's a sentence highlighted but the letters blur and slide across the page.

Hob wipes at his eyes. "I… sorry, can you read it to me…?"

Maisie takes the letter back and reads:

Young master Gadlen protested that he had no quarrel with the brothers of the distraught maid. He shewed that he had drawn neither dagger nor mayde a fiste. He did then call them brothers of his owne and did swear his intent to wed, but his oath came too layte for a knife had been thruste under his rib. Martha did wail and forswear the murderer as her kin, and held fast the lad until his heartsbloode had ceased to flow into the street. Mister Hampsted took his daughter awaye inside to the warmth. The undertaker was called for piteous master Gadlen and the lad was borne awaye to the house of his lamented father.

Hob remembers that night with the clarity that four hundred years of reliving it in his nightmares, and wishing he could have found a way to prevent it, has gifted him with. The smell of the tobacco he'd been smoking in the study mixed with the fatty funk of the tallow candles; the squeak of the undertaker's cart wheels as they bumped up the drive; the crunch of boots on the gravel as Rob's friends accompanied his body in an honour guard of misery; the gasp of horror Fletcher quickly stifled when he caught sight of the solemn procession; the taste of the claret Hob had been enjoying turning to sour bile on the back of his tongue.

Maisie mistakes his grave silence for incomprehension of the archaic English.

"The night Robyn Gadlen found out that Martha was pregnant, it looks like her brother jumped him for taking her virtue," Maisie explains gently. "Martha said in later letters that Robyn had proposed marriage as soon as she'd told him, and they'd conspired to elope. But her brothers stopped them as they were sneaking out the back of the tavern. They never made it."

I never knew, Hob realises. There was a child out there, Robyn's child, and I never even knew it. I failed Robyn. I failed this little Harry. I was so busy wallowing in my own grief and self pity, too busy getting drunk each night with Despair, too busy calling for and rebuffing Death, that I never… did she bring the child to the house? Was I too insensible, too pathetic to even be sober long enough to see the baby when I had the opportunity—

Hob's breath shudders out of him in a soft moan. "Why did… why did she never bring the babe to Robyn's father?"

"Her own father sent her away to a convent that same night," Maisie says. "Here, here's another letter. She wrote often to a cousin during her confinement. She says that she would have fled to Gadlen House if she could, but her brothers had carried her off so quick that she was in a nun's cell before the blood was dry on her hands."

"Oh Christ," Hob groans, both a prayer for that poor girl, and a curse against those who had kept her from him. He is awash in relief that he hadn't actively driven his grandson and his mother away, and both regret and anger in equal measure that the baby was hidden from him. "And after the birth?"

"Martha returned home with little Harry and married a man who agreed to care for them both so long as Harry's parentage was never mentioned. The man took over her father-in-law's tavern eventually, but he died of cholera a few years later."

"Hampstead," Hob repeats dully, his brain clicking over slowly, like his gears were filled with fluffy, grief-coloured cotton. "That was… that was the proprietor. Of the White Horse."

"Yes."

He looks up, feels the blood draining from his face. "Robyn died in the White Horse?"

Maisie cuts a confused glance at the camera, not sure what this has to do with the conversation they're clearly supposed to be having. "Yes."

Hob fists his hand in his shirt, over his heart. Surely, surely, he was going to die now. 

This had to be it, after six hundred and sixty-some-odd years. Surely, there was no way to survive a heartbreak like this. "I thought… they said a tavern brawl, but they never said which one, and I—"

Maisie reaches out as if to touch his arm, and then stops halfway across the table, unsure of her welcome. "I'm sorry, do you need a minute?"

"Yes," Hob hiccups, and stands from the banquette. He doesn't look at the camera, doesn't make eye contact with the PA. He just walks straight back to the kitchen, pushes open the door, and zombie-shuffles right into the arms of Destruction, who has clearly been waiting for him.

The door has barely shut behind him before his face crumples and his lungs seize up. "He died in the White Horse," Hob sobs quietly. "Right there, where I—"

"I'm so sorry, Hob," Dee says, and rubs his back.

"All that time, I never marked it or… I feel like I should have known. I should have felt it."

"He went to the Sunless Lands in peace, Hob. There was nothing of your son remaining in that place for you to have felt. Don't feel guilty about that."

"I wish I'd known."

Dee hums gently, soothing, and hugs Hob harder as he weeps. Being hugged by Dee is like being gently crushed by tree-trunks. Hob presses his face against his brother-in-law's chest and lets Dee squeeze his soul back into his body.

After a few long minutes, Hob steps back and gives Dee a grateful pat on the arm. "Where's Patrick?"

"I sent him out for lemons," Dee rumbles.

"I bought a whole bag yesterday."

"I know."

"Thank you."

Dee studies his face. He must not like what he sees there because he says, "Do you want me to kick them out?"

"No," Hob replies. He sighs and scrubs his mouth, tries to pat down his hair. "No, no, it's fine. It was just… unexpected. Serves me right for not reading Harri's email more thoroughly."

Dee peers out of the porthole window in the kitchen door at the film crew. Hob can hear the murmur of their discussion, but not the contents of it. "Still, that's a hell of a thing to spring on a guy."

"I'll say," Hob snorts. "Oh, hey look, it's noon. I can drink now."

"Don't go overboard," Dee says, eyeing him.

"Don't worry," Hob reassures him, patting his massive forearm again. "I'm not going to fall back into my self-destructive ways. I spend enough time with you as it is, new-new kid."

Destruction snorts. "I was more thinking about how Despair would worry about you. She hovers like a brooding chicken."

Hob chuckles at the image, which was likely the point, and appreciates Dee's concern for his well being. Hob finishes putting himself to rights, squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and shoves the rest of his freak-out down, down, down to share with Morpheus when his husband gets back. And the cameras are gone.

On his way back to his table, he stops at the bar to scoop up four champagne flutes, and pulls one of the nicer bottles of prosecco out of the back of the fridge.

"Well," he says, feeling if not settled then at least more centred, when he sets his glasses down on the table beside Maisie's folder. "I think I can guess what happens next in the story, and if I'm right, then I figure we'll have something to toast to."

Maisie lights up, and Hob can see it, right there, in the way her eyes sparkle—here is his son's many-times granddaughter, come back to him. His blood, in her veins, seeking him out like a loadstone.

Oh christ, Hob thinks, falling a little bit in love with the kid on the spot. I'm going to have to let her dictate the pace of our family bonding, or else I'm going to be selfish and grabby.

"To be fair," Maisie says, "until we found some new documents, I thought I was a Fletcher."

"The Steward?" Hob asks, startled.

"After Martha's husband died, the tavern went to one of Martha's brothers and she came perilously close to abject poverty. She had other children to feed, and thought it was time for Robert Gadlen to know about his grandson. But by then they say the man had fully gone mad, and the Steward decided it was unsafe for the kid to live with him," Maisie explains, sliding the corresponding photocopy of a much older document out of the pile to show him. 

It seems I owe that filthy cheating thief my gratitude for this, at least, Hob thinks as he pursues the paper. I absolutely was not in my right mind and this would have absolutely made it worse.

"When Fletcher just showed up at the civil courts one day with a kid, everyone assumed the little boy was actually his. Up until a month ago, my whole family thought we were the illegitimate descendants of the Steward. But the dates weren't adding up, and… well, then we joined the show and they did some digging. The historian found Martha's letters in the Gadlen Fell Crate papers, along with the documentation from the Court of Chancery, and suddenly it all made sense."

"Chancery?" Hob echoes, startled. "Little Harry was a ward of the Councillor?"

"Oh, you know what that is!" Maisie says, delighted. "I didn't."

Hob chances a look up at the P.A., who shrugs, and gives a go-head wave. He taps the family tree still between them, bringing her attention to the fake younger brother he had invented for himself in the early 1700s, Richard Gadlen.

"Maisie, besides what it says on the family tree, did they tell you who I am?"

"Just that Richard Gadlen was my, uh, eight-times great uncle," Maisie says, blithely unaware of how Hob's heart is threatening to burst apart behind his ribs. "Which means you're my, um, no wait, we figured this out, my ninth cousin, once removed because you're one generation older than me."

Hob huffs a chuckle. More than one generation, he thinks. 

He's taken to putting silver at his temples in the last year, just a speckle of bleach with a toothbrush, followed by some of the grey-pastel dye that the kids are into these days. He used to have to do this with chalk, so it's much nicer to not shed faux dandruff every time he turns his head. Morph, peacock that he is, isn't ready to start putting on airs of age. Doesn't matter, though—his hair is so black most people already assume it's coloured.

"And did they tell you what I do for a living?" he asks, reaching for the prosecco and unwrapping the foil.

"No," Maisie says, looking around The New Inn. "I assume you're a publican?"

"Well, yeah, but that's not my full-time gig." He works the cage off the bottle neck, and shoots a look at the camera operator. They give him a thumbs up, prepared for the loud noise. He begins to wiggle the cork. "I'm a professor at the University of York. I teach Medieval and Early Modern History and Language. My name is Doctor Robert Gadlen—"

"The sixth!" Maisie squeals in delight, finally putting all the clues together. "Oh my gosh! You're the Witch Knight!"

Hob groans. "We are not calling me that," he says, just as the cork jumps free with a delicious little pop.

[muchymozzarella]

Fandom, Friendship, and Paranoia

Ever since I started engaging with and posting Miguel/Miles content, I gained 140 followers on Twitter, 600+ comments on my fics, and I've seen large artists with almost or above 10k followers post Flowerfang, one of whom specifically started shipping them BECAUSE of my fic.

Most of the friends I've made in the fandom are nonwhite like me, and we enjoy sharing our multicultural backgrounds, helping each other with translations and discussions on the culture behind Miguel and Miles' characters (many Mig/mi shippers are black, there was even a meme posted about it a month back)

Moreover I didn't lose any followers that I could see, and certainly no mutuals. Most of my moots are chill, and the reaction has ranged from interest in the ship to ambivalence to "not my ship but we're still buds". Most of my mutuals also post completely vanilla things, and even if some of my ships aren't for them, we treat each other well, respect each other, like each other.

I have certainly read a few of my friends excerpts of my fic and shown them some of my favourite art. I've made so many friends, so many mutuals from this ship. It's been joyful and fun and even with weird drama every now and then, generally positive.

The reason I say this is because if you truly believe that fandom should be about guilt, hatred, judgment and self-righteousness, then all you're doing is giving yourself problems. You become paranoid, untrusting and untrustworthy. Maybe you'll notice some friends leaving you because they KNOW you'll hurt them if they're honest and vulnerable, others who are ready to throw you under the bus the moment you express an opinion they don't like.

Y'all gotta get away from those kinds of people. Y'all gotta stop BEING those kinds of people. Because those who'll hate you, a human being, a real person, over a fake cartoon character, is someone who's primed to hate and will use whatever little justification they can against you. I've been in various online fandoms for 11 years now, I've seen it happen over and over and over again. There are people who've been around longer who've seen more.

You don't have to like the thing I like. I prefer older / adult Miles x Miguel, but honestly I never bother saying that because antis get mad when you age up a fictional character regardless. People who want to hate me will hate me no matter what. And I'm fine with that, because I've gotten very good at muting and blocking.

You will find a thing you like that others will find distasteful, unacceptable, even disgusting, and you'll spend your time trying to justify it in your head even as your so-called friends destroy you for breaking their rules.

That's not healthy.

A lot of us have trauma, one way or another, and fiction is a tool that allows us to work through it or find joy or even just distract us from the horrendous shit many of us have to deal with day to day. Trying to control other people's healing will open you up to having your own life torn apart.

All because you cared more about fake people than how you treat real ones.

I don't advise engaging in fandom as a judgmental, angry, self-righteous person, because that'll make you a hateful, paranoid, self-destructive person. And that's not something I wish on anyone over fandom.

[archaictold]

PERMANENT PLOTTER.

what's this? a permanent plotter repost? in my isola radiale, at 5am? it's more likely than you think... it has been a HOT minute since i've done anything like this. seeing as zhilan has long settled into spirale, i think it's about time i cast my reel into the pond a second time and start strengthening long-term plots for him. i'll preface this by saying we do not need to have threaded before for you to express your interest! if you think your muse can vibe with any of these  ( or even if you have an idea i haven't covered here! ) , you're more than welcome to hop onto this plotter call. 'what does this do, exactly?' you might be asking. i'll tell you! by liking this, you can guarantee:

me hopping into your IMs to plot!

memes for meme day!

spontaneous starters! ( with your permission, of course! )

… and all things good for development! now! onto the real meat of this post!

RELATIONSHIPS. these are the bonds i want to see zhilan develop! some of these include——

FRIENDS. if you've been around zhilan for longer than 5 seconds, you've probably noticed that he is extremely friendly! zhilan has the personality of a sunbeam: it's bright, it's cheerful, it's warm and everything you would expect of a walking beacon of positivity. he's pretty talkative, even when faced with less talkative muses. he's also really trusting and believes the best in people, sometimes to his own detriment. he'd make a good friend to just about anyone, being a rather personable individual! he's got some good ones here, too. i'd like to have him strengthen those, while opening him to new ones! GEEK SQUAD. do you have a muse that's also super nerdy? you're in luck! they probably stand a chance of coming across zhilan in his natural element, that being his lab at the university or one of the libraries scattered about spirale. there is no greater joy to him than positing theories and discussing the nature of one's work. even if their fields differ, he'll want to hear all about it! ENEMIES. now, i feel like it's hard to get under zhilan's skin unless you're the absolute anarchy of humanity, BUT! i do think his optimism can rub people the wrong way, especially if they're more jaded. i'm not expressly looking for people to antagonize zhilan, but i do think it's impossible for him to get along with everyone. thus, i'm leaving this here! SPARRING PARTNERS. you wouldn't know it from zhilan's scrawny stature, but he does dabble a bit in martial arts! now that he's gotten his polearm back, he's actively looking to improve his combat skills… which are admittedly not that impressive, unless he's acting as a support. maybe your muse could act as a mentor, or even a fellow peer! THE MUSEUM. zhilan has a job position here! it's… kind of an odd choice, yes, but he doesn't exactly want to pursue an academic position at the university. so where better to put that treasure trove of knowledge to use than a museum! if you're visiting for any reason, you'll likely come across him among the gallery. just, er… not the abyssal gallery. he tends to keep out of there. THE UNIVERSITY. zhilan borrows one of the lab spaces here for work related things while he's in the middle of setting up his own establishment. zhilan doesn't have his own work office set up yet, but he does spend a lot of time in this one. he's gotten into the habit of helping history and anthropology majors with their research as they've started visiting him alongside clients. he's not a professor here, he swears. but he can't say no to those seeking knowledge! you'll find him here fairly often, when he's not at home or in... YESTERYEAR. zhilan frequents this branch rather often, being the sort to gravitate to old dilapidated ruins and forgotten history. if you know a thing or two about this branch, he'll be incredibly interested to hear about it! who knows! maybe the two of you can explore it together… CASTMATES. zhilan might be a fandom oc, but i'm really keen on the idea of him developing some established bonds with his canon counterparts.  ;v;  their shared canon background already gives them a good basis for interactions, so i'd like to nurture some connections for him with his genshin fellows! aaaand that’s about it! of course this doesn’t cover everything, so if you’ve got an idea and you don’t see it here you’re free to hop on this post and shoot it my way! thanks for reading!  :^)

[callmelittlemephistopheles]

Simplicity (Copia x GN!Reader)

Going to a concert last minute with some friends, you think it’ll be just a fun trip. Just a few nights of laughter before you have to continue on with your mundane jobs.

And then you meet your soulmate.

Tags: Papa Emeritus IV x Gn!Reader, Fluff, Soulmate AU, First Meeting, Just horrible amounts of fluff really, Not Beta Read. Word Count is 2.4k

Hello! First fic in this fandom, decided to test the Copia waters with a very fluffy soulmate AU. Hope you enjoy! It'll be uploaded to Ao3 once I can make an account.

-

The concert wasn’t something you planned to go to originally. One of your friends had bailed on the group, and you had decided to go along. Putting in your share, not wanting to let your friends down. And it didn’t sound like a bad time. A couple of nights in a hotel, with a grand show for this concert they were raving about for weeks at that point. 

Initially, you meant to spend the night alone or explore the hotel. But after seeing your friends have fun and listening to a few songs, you decided to use the ticket and go with them instead of scalping it. They explained that the band was going through singers, the first 3 brothers, and then a member of the church they were in, you didn’t press the topic and let them explain little bits, only half paying attention. The Leaders were called Papa, with the newest one being the fourth and who was a Cardinal before he became Emeritus. 

“It was highly irregular.” They tell you while you wait in line to enter the concert building. 

“Was it?” You say, mostly so they continue to speak on something they clearly enjoy so much. 

“Yes!” Another friend pipes up. “It was this whole big deal. Apparently, the other brothers still aren’t happy about it. But they can’t do much when the clergy decides what to do.”

A third voice pops in. “They were Papas too, you’d think their opinion would hold more weight.”

You let them continue to discuss, listening to them a little while longer before you soon head to your section for the concert. Seeing them already have so much love for the band is helping you feel more at ease about it.

Though you weren’t sure why you felt off about it. 

It’s easy to not think about it after a while. Focusing on having a good time with your friends and it’s far better than the loneliness of the hotel room. Settling into your seats, watching the warm-ups happen. You had arrived early, to settle and let your friends tell you more about the lore of the band. 

“Oh, you see those guys!” One friend points over your shoulder, guiding your head to view several people coming out and taking places behind the instruments. They all appeared at first to be wearing the same outfit, but after a few moments of staring, you could see the subtle differences. Your friend’s voice was pressed to the side of your head, sliding into your ear. “Those are the ghouls.”

You blink. “Ghouls?”

“Yeah, that’s what they’re called.”

Your brow wrinkles, eyebrows pressing together as you glance back at your friend, who leans back now. “Do they have names?” 

“No. Well, not really. Fans have named them, but officially they’re nameless ghouls.” 

Turning back to the stage, you can feel the small pit in your stomach. That little form of doubt. Bands had weird little things about them all the time, so this shouldn’t have been too worrying. 

And yet you were worrying. There’s a tension slowly rolling out over your back, through your shoulders until your spine is rigid. 

It felt odd. An undeniable feeling that something was going to happen. 

It only grows when you see the crucifixes, and you glance at the friend to your right. “What kind of Church did they belong to again?” You weren’t religious yourself but the crucifixes didn’t look like the Catholic or Christian ones you’d seen in shows or on the news. 

They don’t look at you, smiling sheepishly at the stage while they avoid your gaze. You have to elbow them gently until they finally glance at you, looking slightly flushed. “Satanism. They’re a Satanic priest group.” 

You stare at your friend. 

They stare back. 

Finally, you draw your gaze back to the stage. It’s more just surprising than alarming if you’re honest. Religion wasn’t something you shamed, you were more just surprised your friends didn’t mention it. Though you supposed it didn’t matter, and instead as more of the crowd gathers around the stage, you settle in the seat. A nice view of the stage but not directly in front. 

The lighting effects start, and a few test runs with the strobing lights before the crowd is fully invested. You can hear the music starting. Strums of guitar before there’s a rift, and there’s shouting everywhere. 

And then you see him. 

Papa Emeritus the Fourth is wearing white face paint, with black details to give it a more skull-like appearance. His hair is thick and growing out, and even from this distance, you can see the silver starting to grow in through at his temples and sideburns. One eye is dark and the other is a pure white iris that seems to glow in the socket in certain light. 

He’s handsome, singing wonderfully and your chest is threatening to burst while your heart throbs almost painfully. 

What the fuck? 

All at once, a chill runs over you, frozen in your seat while your friends and everyone scream and cheer beside you. You can barely hear them with the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, pulsating in your neck so hard you can feel each beat. An overwhelming warmth fills your veins, and you find yourself growing more content the longer you stare at him. Your heart still racing but there’s something more. 

Something you never expected to feel. 

This is rare. This isn’t supposed to happen to you. It’s only supposed to happen in movies or for famous people. You’ve seen how it happens, in romantic stories before. Soulmates are rare, and yet, here you are. 

Staring at your own soulmate. 

There is no other explanation for this new feeling, so much deeper than any crush or basic attraction could be. A horrible longing forms in your sternum, and what had only been almost painful is now starting to crush the muscles in your chest. 

Gasping, you stand with your friends while they cheer, and without thinking about it, you scream with them. Desperate for him to look over here. 

He needs to see you. He needs to. 

“Papa!” You cry, only to be echoed in a sea of similar shouts. He can’t hear you over everyone else, focusing on singing and dancing around on stage. Still, you shout, cry out, because he needs to see you. The thought of him not seeing you, of missing you, it’s already starting to drive you mad. 

Enough to keep standing even when your friends sit back down, the one behind you attempting to tug you back into your seat. The song ends and you scream this time into the quieted crowd. 

That gets his eyes on you, a quick glance at first before he comes back not two seconds later to really look at you. Looking that quickly develops into straight staring, his lips parted and his mismatched eyes wide. 

There’s an intense, soft feeling now in your heart, unable to stop your smile from curling up on your lips. The pain is gone now, though you can feel the soreness already starting to form in your chest. 

The spell is broken when you’re yanked down into your seat again. “I didn’t think they’d be so into it.” One friend laughs, while you blink at everyone giggling around you before turning your gaze back onto Papa. 

He’s still looking, just for a moment longer before he turns to greet the crowd. It’s a quick few words about asses wobbling, and asking how everyone is. His voice is filled with mirth, warm and welcoming. And there are small flicks of his gaze towards your seating area. Constant enough to have your feet kicking slightly while you sit. 

Charming, you think, feeling a giddiness enter your chest to fill where the pain had been. He’s charming. 

And he’s yours. 

The show passes, with constant glances from Papa towards you. If your friends wonder why you’re suddenly so happy and into the show, they don’t voice it, simply happy you’re into it too. But the show is over, and though it was wonderful to watch, your skin is itching. 

Your soulmate is not even twenty feet away and yet you cannot touch him. Not yet. 

A mismatched gaze meets you right after he and his ghouls take his bow. From this distance, they’re unreadable, but you understand the weight of it. Holding you down in your seat as your friends rise. Even when he leaves to head backstage, you still remain in your seat.

“Hey, we’re going.”

“I know.”

There’s a furrowing brow. “So… Is there a reason you’re not joining us in getting up?” They break into a grin. “Did you enjoy that music so much that you need a moment?” 

“More than a moment.” And you smile back at your friend group. “I can’t leave. I have to meet him.”

That same friend’s brow continues to furrow, but another one’s eyebrows shoot up into their forehead. A wide smile appears that grows into something softer, and they approach you with a gentle hand on each arm. “You had a reaction when he came on stage.” A small pause and their smile turns gooey, “Did you… Is he-”

“Yes.” The giddiness, the elatedness in your chest is almost horrible. There’s a terribly happy feeling that’s spreading through your veins. A nervousness too, but it disappears far more quickly. Probably because it all seems rather simple now.

He was yours and you were his. Even if you didn’t even know each other by your names, or rather your real names, you knew. His eyes were burned into your heart already, and any loneliness you had felt beforehand feels so long gone. 

Your friend giggles. “I’ll explain to the rest of them then. You have your cellphone?” You nod, and they let go, standing back up. “We’ll be awake for the next few hours. Just in case you want an escort back to the hotel.” 

The rest of your friends haven’t figured it out, but the one who knows is shushing them, leading them away and out of the theatre. It isn’t long until you’re left in your seat, with security even walking past you. You watch as the backstage crew begins to pack up things, preparing everything for travel. 

He emerges from behind the stage, on the floor, in his sparkly blue coat and hair slicked back. In gloved hands, he holds two paper cups and his gaze remains on the floor until he reaches the stairs. Then he glances up, and you can’t help but beam at him. 

His approach is slow, letting you look at him more carefully. Despite an almost shyness to his steps, there’s a confidence there too, one that seems to grow while he draws closer. Until finally, he hovers above you, lips curled into a small smile. There’s a pause, just long enough for him to lean down and hand you a cup before he points at the spot next to you. “Is this seat free?”

“Reserved for my soulmate.” Your smile is turning into a grin, while he moves to sit next to you. That soft feeling only grows when you catch his gaze and you see the warmth and similar giddiness in it. You take a sip from the cup, just water, to try and calm yourself but it’s hard not to feel so happy. 

“I’m sorry I could not come sooner.” He relaxes into the chair, sinking in. His own sip is taken before he shifts in it so he can face you more. “The show must go on.”

“It must.” You agree, relaxing in your own seat. “Where are you headed next?” 

“Home, this was the last show of our tour tonight.” One eyebrow raises, though you can barely tell beneath the makeup. “I’m guessing you’re not a big fan of our group.”

You can hear the mirth in your own voice, that moves into his eyes while you speak. “Not until tonight.” 

When he smiles again, a wider curl of his lips, you realize you will never tire of it. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you stretch your fingers out on the armrest. His eyes glance down at it, before raising to meet your own again. Slowly his hand outstretches, tentative but there’s a firmness in his gaze that lets you feel safe to slide your fingers against his own. 

There’s a sigh from both of you at the first touch. Though his fingers are covered, there’s a heat that spreads through your hand, up into your bones. it isn’t long before you’re shoulder to shoulder, nearly cuddling if not for the armrest between you. But it’s nice like this you think, moving to rest your head against his and he returns the notion with full affection. 

No fear, because you both simply know. Because this that should be so complicated is wonderfully simple because you both know and you both do not even attempt to deny it. A seed planted that is already beginning to sprout, to bloom into something much larger. 

And it’s with those thoughts that you realize you should ask something that you should’ve brought up right when he sat next to you. “Papa?” You ask tentatively, and he gives a light squeeze to your hand. “Is that your name or your title?” 

“Both.” He says after a moment of thought, his fingers twitching before he draws them back to lace with your own. “But you may also know me as Copia. It was my name before I became Papa.”

“Copia.” You let it roll off your tongue, tasting it for the first time. When he asks the question in return, you answer truthfully and easily.

He tests it out too with a smile before he sighs. “I will not ask you to come home with me, cara. That may be too soon.” You would if he asked, so you’re a mixture of relief and disappointment that he doesn’t. His fingers squeeze, keeping your own locked with his.“But, may I have your company until we have to part?” 

You raise his hand. In one of the earlier songs, he had serenaded and kissed the hand of a person in the crowd. Now you raise his and brush your lips along the leather-clad knuckles, in a soft amount of pressure that you hope lingers for a while. “As long as we have.”

By the time he’s supposed to leave, twelve hours from now, you will still be holding his hand while he calls to extend his stay by another week. He squeezes your hand and kisses your forehead when you extend your own trip shortly after his call.

With him at your side, everything became far more simple. And it would continue to be simple for years to come.

-

Hi there! Thank you for reading this fic. I'd love to hear thoughts on this given it's my first copia fic, so please reply/reblog what you think!

Also my askbox is open to requests for him while I get used to writing about him. Can be SFW or NSFW.

Thank you again for reading and hope you have a lovely day! ❤️🥰

[earlgreytea68]

Throwing in my two cents. I think before hiatus people(fans, the press, ect.) were up in Pete and Patrick's business instead of minding their own. So I think when they came back part of the boundaries they set was to keep things more private. I feel like they were close after hiatus you can see it in the way they look at each other, but they tone it down in public so it doesn't become what people focus on.

YES. So, I was actually just saying this to someone. When I first got into this fandom, I was kind of wondering if the Pete and Patrick relationship was mostly performative. Like, we've discussed on this Tumblr before that people will argue they're not actually friends and it's all for show because they know it sells. And, in truth, Pete's both savvy and fannish, so he would know that it sells and he's even very explicit about that at many points.

But the longer I spend in this fandom with these two, the more I've become convinced that the public interactions we see are actually the tip of a very large iceberg of interaction between the two of them. Like, the public interactions are performative because they're the ones they're conscious are done for an audience, but there is an entire universe of interactions that are just for the two of them and not for other people to consume and analyze over. Like, they just got better at managing the boundaries of what they were willing to show to the public, but it didn't mean they weren't still close or friends.

There are just so many times lately when they reference things they've done or conversations they've had that were clearly entirely offline. They spent the entire pandemic working on an album none of us even knew about. Their comfort level with each other is easy and relaxed as it always is. I just think they're legitimately still each other's ride-or-die, but yeah, they do less, like, pretending around it, or something. It's really hard for me to put into words but it's also really hard for me to imagine they are not absolutely incredibly close, but they're just incredibly close because they are, for each other, without the need to re-enact it for everyone else, and whatever spills over is conscious spillage.

[thisaintascenereviews]

Thks Fr Th Mmrs: A Mid-year Checkin

The summer is a mark of many things, whether it’s being outside, longer nights, the Fourth of July, fireworks, hotdogs, beaches, summer break, and the middle of the year. We’re over a week into July by this point, and while new releases have slowed down for a moment (I’m writing this on the 7th, but it’ll be later when I post this), we still got a ton of great pieces of media within the last few months. Whether it’s TV shows that people can’t stop talking about, movies that win audiences over, or albums that we’re all sure to be spinning by the end of the year, we’ve been eating good when it comes to new media. There are plenty of things to talk about, especially new stuff that I didn’t talk about in the last checkin piece I made back in April. Just like last time, however, I’m not doing this alone! I’m bringing along my buddy Jake, so we can talk about all things fandom, whether it’s music, movies, or TV. Hell, even video games aren’t off the table, but if you’re looking for new stuff that you haven’t heard, seen, or played in the first half of the year, or want to see what we’re into, you’re in the right place! We also talked about stuff that wasn’t necessarily new, but it may be new to us, since you don’t have to spend the year getting into stuff from that year, you can consume whatever you want from whenever you want.

With that said, in case you missed our first piece back in April, we talked about TV shows and movies like Fallout, Invincible, X-Men ‘97, and the Mean Girls musical, as well as talking about video games like Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth, Mafia III, and Fallout 4, and the new albums from bands like Cory Wells, Too Close Topic Touch, Bayside, Sum 41, The Ghost Inside, SeeYouSpaceCowboy, Neck Deep, Fluorescents, Dustin Kensrue, Lil Dicky, and Justin Timberlake, among others. We got plenty more to talk about today, however, so to welcome you aboard, let me first kick to you, Jake — how have the last few months been for you in terms of consuming media? Has there been a lot that you’ve been really into that’s come out since we last discussed our favorite things, or have you still been sinking into your teeth into some, if not all, of the same things we talked about back then?

It’s funny, because in terms of music, so much new and exciting stuff has come out in the last couple months, and I’ve been all over it, but in terms of other forms of media, I’ve been kind of stuck in a bit of a rut. For example, I’ve been sitting on the last couple chapters of Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth for almost two months now after 160 hours, but it’s been a struggle to get myself to finish it, which in turn has made me hesitant to really start anything new. Same with TV shows; while I did watch the new Star Wars series The Acolyte and mostly enjoyed that, and I’m really loving this current season of the Criminal Minds revival, I haven’t really felt motivated or energized to start a new thing. That being said, I do wanna touch on both of those things at least briefly. The Acolyte was a super fascinating look into a new era of Star Wars removed from the Skywalker saga, and while I think it suffered from some pacing and format issues (mostly in that it felt like a movie cut up into 8 pieces), I loved the bold swings it took and hope we get to explore more of that in a potential second season. As for the Criminal Minds revival, the original series is a major comfort show of mine, so I was bummed when the original series ended in 2020, but also okay with that, because 15 years is a long time, and the show was past its prime. But, when it was revived just a couple years later for streaming as opposed to network TV, it was just the shot in the arm the series needed. Because it’s on streaming, the creative team isn’t beholden to the rigid network procedural format, and they’re able to tell darker stories and really dig deep into both the main BAU agents and the killers they’re chasing, and they’re also able to be way more serialized in their storytelling, versus the case-of-the-week format they did originally. The second season of the revival has been particularly awesome, because they’re really running with the new format to dig into the entire series’ history, and I’m super stoked to see how it wraps up with the finale that’s airing the week of writing this.

Throwing it over to you, Bradley, what have you been getting into since the last time we did this?

You know, I can sort of say the same thing, because aside from a few TV shows that just wrapped up recently, I’ve been diving headfirst into a lot of music. A lot of new music, mind you, but I’ve also been revisiting some stuff I used to be into around a decade ago, and it’s been a pretty cool experience. I’ll talk about that in a bit, however, but I’ve been mainly watching The Acolyte and fourth season of The Boys. I feel the same way about The Acolyte; I love this new era of Star Wars we’re exploring, and despite issues with pacing, it was an interesting show about a mystery that didn’t amount to a whole lot, and I had a lot of questions in the finale, but it left a lot open for another season. The Boys, however, has been ramping up with its penultimate season, because as far as we know, season five is the last one, but the characters are getting more unhinged and the political commentary is more on point than ever (even having its last episode mirror something that just happened while being written and shot months before). It’s getting good, so it’ll be interesting to see where the last season goes.

Aside from those two relevant shows that just wrapped, I’ve also been watching the 1998 anime Cowboy Bebop, because I’ve been getting more into anime, and it’s been a fun ride of watching one of the most influential and critically acclaimed anime series of all time. I’ve been a couple games, too, including the first Kingdom Hearts game, which is fitting with Final Fantasy, and that’s been a lot of fun, but I’ve recently taken a liking to playing online multiplayer on 2018’s Battlefront II, and it’s a lot of fun. It’s nothing special, just being either a clone, stormtrooper, rebel, or battle droid, and playing what amounts to capture the flag, but it doesn’t get old to me for whatever reason.

Now it’s time for the reason we’re all here — music. A lot of new music has come out in a last few months, and despite it being relatively slow the last couple of weeks, it’s still been a great summer for new and exciting music. Before we talk about that, however, are there are any albums from the first time that we did that you’re still really into, or have your thoughts changed on some? I’ve got a couple of albums that were in my top ten that I’ve changed my thoughts a bit on, not necessarily in a bad or dramatic way, but the more you listen to something, the more your thoughts can change one way or another.

I wouldn't necessarily say that there have been any albums that I've changed my mind on, but as more stuff has come out, albums that I thought were gonna be really high on my list may not be anymore, or may eb off my list entirely. I still really like all of those albums, but I think it's a testament to just how strong the last few months have been in terms of music. I will say this, though; while my number one album is still Bayside's There Are Worse Things Than Being Alive, pretty much the entire rest of my top 10 has shifted pretty dramatically, and I'm excited to talk more about that!

How has that been for you, though?

That’s actually what I was going to say, too, because while I’ve changed my thoughts on a few albums (mainly loving them when they first came out to not loving them as much now, but still enjoying them; the new JT album is a good example of that, actually), it’s more so that a bunch of new albums came out in the last few months to replace a lot of what I originally had in my top ten! I’ve got three ealbums from the last we time did this still in my top ten, and one of them is the new Bayside album as well! I’ll spoil it a bit early, but even that album isn’t my frontrunner anymore for AOTY, which shows how strong this year has been so far. With that said, a lot of my honorable mentions are albums that originally appeared on my list a few months back, but my overall list has changed dramatically. What are some albums from the last few months have crept their way into your overall favorites?

I have a feeling this one might end up on both our lists, so I'll start with the new Bimuri album, American Motor Sports. This thing almost has no business being as good as it is, and yet every time I listen to it, I just have the biggest smile on my face. It's really a perfect album for this time of year; you have infinitely catchy hooks, heartfelt lyrics, and a sound that on paper, perhaps isn't the most unique, but Johnny Franck pulls it off flawlessly. If you haven't, check out the album with all the visualizers/musicvideos, too; they're so ridiculous but they only add to the enjoyment for me. I also wanna give a big shout to The Home Team and their new album The Crucible of Life. I think you put it best in your review when you said that these guys are carrying the torch from Issues (RIP), their self-described heavy pop sound is fully refined here, and while I don't think it quite makes the upper half of my list, it's a damn great album that I've been going back to quite a bit. Finally, I'd like to at least briefly touch on the new Bring Me The Horizon album, Post-Human: Next Gen. This thing was all I listened to for the first two weeks after it came out, and I think a lot of that had to do with how the album felt both fresh but also very much like a loving throwback to that early and mid-2000's hard-rock/alt metal that I grew up with. It's absolutely a nostalgia thing for me, but I also think, a few nitpicks aside, BMTH really made something unique and memorable in a genre that so desperately needed it.

How about you? I think I know what a few of them are, but I'm curious if there might be some unexpected ones on your list.

Oh, man, you know the new Bilmuri album is on there! American Motor Sports is a fantastic album, and like you said, it’s not a super unique album, but the songwriting is top notch. I need to check out some of the music videos, too, because if there is one thing I know about his music, it’s that he loves memes and ridiculousness. The Home Team’s new one is good, too, but what kept it from my top ten is how some of the songs fade into the background, despite being so good. The new BMTH album is the same, actually, but both of those are some great picks, and a couple of highlights in a crowded year.

As for me, most of my list is composed of new albums from the last time we sat down and did this! For starters, the new Knocked Loose album, You Won’t Go Until You’re Supposed To, is a big one; they came back with a super heavy album, as well as a really short one, but it’s a blast. Rapper turned country artist Shaboozey dropped a cool album a couple months back with Where I’ve Been, Isn’t Where I’m Going, but a lot of the new stuff on my list are all rap albums.

I didn’t listen to much in that vein last year, but what I’ve heard this year is great. For starters, Childish Gambino dropped two albums this year, and while I enjoy his latest (and final) album, Bando Stone, I enjoyed the finished version of his 2020 album, now entitled Atavista, a lot more. Denzel Curry’s recently released King Of The Mischievous South, Vol 2, and that’s easily in my top three of the year, and because of that, I listened to That Mexican OT’s newest album from in the beginning of the year, because he’s featured on there. My (current) favorite this year, however, has become the new Lupe Fiasco album, Samurai. I’ve always been a fan of his stuff, but this is such a short and sweet album, it’s easily listenable and you can listen to it whenever and wherever.

Man, even if it's not totally my thing, that new Knocked Loose album goes hard, you really can't deny that. Same with the new Lupe Fiasco album; it's a genre I'm not super entrenched in, but I really don't see how you listen to that and not at the very least respect the hell out of it.

Before we close this thing off, is there anything coming up that you're looking foward to? The main one for me is probably the upcoming Four Year Strong album. I've had a blast with the singles I've heard, and they always bring the goods, so I'm pretty confident about that one. I'm also really looking forward to the new Siamese album. They're a very solid and criminally underrated band, and I've really enjoyed what they do in the heavier rock scene.

Honestly, the new Four Year Strong album comes to mind, as I’ve been a huge fan of them for years, so it’s crazy that they’re still putting stuff out, but I saw that Siamese announced a new album! That could be good, especially since I enjoyed their debut quite a lot back in the day. I’m not looking forward to anything else in particular, and I think part of the fun is just seeing what comes out every week, and being surprised. As I write this, rapper Yung Gravy dropped a country album today, and for the record, it’s pretty fun, but I had no idea that was even coming out today. I know there are some albums I’m looking forward to, but they’re albums coming out in the next few months, versus August.

I think you raise a pretty good point there, actually; it has been a ton of fun just kinda browsing the new releases and seeing if anything sticks out. It's not quite the same, but it reminds me a lot of going to FYE back in the day and just picking up a random CD that'd grab my attention, especially on release weeks when not a lot came out that was on my radar.

In any case, though, it was a blast getting back together to do this, man! I'm excited to do it again in the fall, and finally at the end of the year for our big year-end celebration.

Man, you and me both. I loved going to stores and just browsing to see if anything caught my eye, especially when a lot of those stores had more CDs. Nowadays, most of these stores don’t have anything at all, or the couple of bigger new releases, and that’s so depressing. It’s still exciting to see new stuff, nonetheless, especially when you’re not anticipating anything, kinda like this week, actually. Anyhow, it was certainly a blast getting back together to do this, for sure! I’m always pumped for these pieces, because there’s nothing like nerding out and fanboying over the stuff we’ve been loving throughout the year.

[lesbianyosano]

Just kind of a general plot question bcs I feel like I’m blanking here. I know that within the story one of the huge themes are cycles of abuse (specifically among the port mafia characters) like the whole mori-> dazai -> akutagawa-> kyouka(?) situation but for the life of me I can’t remember what exactly the dazai mori catalyst beginning of the cycle event was. Obviously odas death was the big betrayal of trust that broke dazai away from the mafia, and there was that whole killing the former pm leader deal(was that it though??) because Ik fandom has a tendency of portraying mori as this cartoonishly evil abuser when he’s more complex then that (even if I don’t personally like him lol) but I feel like I’m completely forgetting everything about that whole dynamic lol. I hope you have a great day!

honestly i dont think there really exists a catalyst like that. i think the discussion about mori and dazai's relationship tends to get really weird bc it's always treated as a singular abusive situation between the 2 of them, completely taken out of context. as in, "mori's an abusive creep and everyone around him actually hates him for it", with disregard for the context of his interactions with dazai.

they are both mafia members, their relationship cannot be a healthy and supportive one specifically because of that. mori's manipulation and grooming isn't out of place, it's what funtioning in that system requires of him, the same way it's what was later required of dazai with akutagawa. it's less about mori being someone who's personally irredeemable and more that mafia needs to continually raise its new members to continue to exist, the abuse is systematic and will never cease to be treated as a tool as long as the organization is still in place. i'd argue it's the reason why beast mori manages to change and become a much more sympathetic version of himself. his relationship with yosano is similar, the abuse takes place because the military allows it. obviously mori is still very much complicit, but his utalitarian approach can only go so far due to the lack of institutional response

and i think this perception of abuse as something that only exists, and is perpetrated on, on a personal level is also what leads to this weird mischaracterization of mori's relationship with chuuya and kouyou. you see this in fanfics a lot, when they both secretly hate him because he's a pedo and abused dazai, which is absolute bullshit. they don't hate him, they seem to enjoy spending time with him even when they don't need to. they are both extremely loyal and strive to keep as him the pm boss, neither ever raises concerns to how he treats dazai, and elise also never gets commented on. fundamentally, they are no better than him. they are a part of this same organisation and it is in their interest to keep the power structure as it is. kouyou tries to groom and manipulate kyouka, projecting onto her, similarly how mori does with dazai. chuuya talks about wanting q dead (despite the weirdly popular hc that they're close and familiar). and im not saying this because i think anyone should hate them, or that people need to love mori all of a sudden, but because ignoring this flattens all of them as characters. they are meant to be bad people, in huge part because they choose to be (they could all leave the mafia the way dazai did lmao)

mori (i think) gets the most hate also because of his perceived sexual deviancy. you see this a lot, where people will make non stop jokes about characters being murderers/war criminals and how it's actually fun and cool (it is), but the moment the crimes go into a territory of sexual offense (sometimes real and sometimes perceived), those crimes can no longer be excused, and everything else about the character is forgotten. the lolicon gag with mori and elise is. weird yeah and it's perfectly fine to be uncomfortable with it, but as far as we know, there is nothing to indicate mori has ever sexually abused a child, the deal with elise is unclear, even if there are some questionable comments. and again, im not saying this to make him more likable or to make him less of a creep, it's just that i dont think this characterizaton leads anywhere, other than a twisted perception of like. half of the cast

sorry for going off asdgsafhdf ive been meaning to talk about this and you have unfortunately given me space to do so </3

[hoghtastic]

What was actually agreed upon why he canceled the fan convention? He's just now flying to New York and seemed to have a lot of free time in Copenhagen. He did a small thing for Isaac Productions but that didn’t seem too time consuming either.

I'm curious whether Johanne will fly to him and whether he will stay there until his birthday. The script doesn't look particularly thick, I don't mean that in a shady way, it just appears that way. For me, Alex has an extreme problem with being alone and since Johanne is obsessive and loves the new opportunities and attention from him anyway, I can hardly imagine them staying apart for longer than two weeks or that Johanne would waste the opportunity to post New York Instagram content and make new connections. I would like to thank our admin for all the work she’s doing. I mean every single day you’re replying and reacting to asks, that’s actually work and it’s not like Alex deserves promotion anymore. It truly feels like you’re doing this for „us“.

Everything we discuss here doesn't matter anyway. It's really like a round of girls shit chat. Alex does what he wants anyway and that's what he should do. Johanne is a psychopath who gets what she wants anyway and sometimes it helps to endure this misery if you can laugh at this nonsense.

Alex communicated to us over many years that he had a certain mentality that we identified with. That's why we remained loyal supporters of him, it wasn't just his appearance. To the fans who say you have to separate him from his girlfriend and that it should only be about him, I have to say that doesn't work. Because Johanne symbolizes exactly the mentality that some of us may see as the exact opposite of what he communicated to us for many years. In addition, the couple-content is overwhelming anyway. She has completely taken over him. So you can no longer support him without having to support them too and it’s not like we had any acting we could enjoy of him.

I see this blog like an outlet to point out their bullshit because no one else is doing it. I also can't imagine that many of us will stay if he proposes to her or she gets pregnant, because then Johanne will feel so safe that Alex won’t leave her that she will market every aspect of their private life in an influencer way on Instagram and I don't want to see that, I'm not into that same old whole influencer "my past ist sad but my world is so perfect now" crap. And now let me show you these earrings. Tag tag tag.

Hello, dear anon! 😊 Thank you so much for taking the time to share your thoughts on these matters! In my opinion, you made a lot of valid points and explained the current state of the fandom perfectly!

As for your initial questions, nothing was ever confirmed, but it surely seemed like he cancelled the convention to spend time with Johanne — considering she also cancelled her show for the same day and her understudy took her place, and they later posted about having a date night. Even if the events were unrelated, their timing to post about such date on social media surely didn't do them any favors. 😅Regarding Johanne joining him in NY and staying with him until his birthday, I think it's unlikely, because she'll be busy with Askepot until June 9th, and the most free days she will get between shows are 3 days. But who knows? Maybe she'll visit him on one of these occasions? 🤷‍♀️ We shall wait and see. 😊

Last but not least, thank you so much for your kind words!!! 🥰 And for understanding what this blog is truly about — a place for "girls talk", uncensored and fun. It wouldn't be what it is without all your thoughts, opinions & jokes, so it has been my pleasure to be here with all of you! 💖