#the harassment i've seen these past few weeks is RIDICULOUS

[anonymous-dentist]

I find it amazing how many people are reaction to Pepito and roier relationship, like, expecting him to be the greatest father of all times when he has been dealing with depression for the longest time and now is facing what could only be described as one of the lowest points in his life.

While also forgetting Pepito's own feelings because he clearly wants to get closer to him and worries about him.

It's because they aren't actual Roier fans, because real Roier fans are NOT out here calling him a good father rn. He's fucked up! He needs help! He's doing his best, but he also isn't, and we all know and acknowledge that. Pepito does, too!!

But then we see all these English-POV-Only people taking literally everything qRoier does and going "See? He shouldn't be a father anymore. Let Bad (or Fit or Phil or any English CC) take care of Pepito from now on, they'll know how to do it!!!" And like. That's super fucked up!!!!! Because we had that Otipep bullshit last week that Hispanic fans were understandably really upset about, and then English fans are like "Well actually it was canon and Roier is a terrible dad and his child hates him so Bad should obviously take custody of Pepito because he's perfect!!" like?? That's super weird? Why do people only criticize Roier's parenting rn?

Think about it. Even going back to when Bobby was alive and when even Tilin and Flippa were alive, English fans were discounting Roier's parenting despite Bobby unarguably being the happiest kid on the island up until his dying breath, anyone can tell you that. When Bobby died, everyone said it was Roier's fault. When Tilin died, I saw people saying "Well, this wouldn't have happened if Roier was there instead of Slime. He should've paid more attention." Same for when Flippa died the final time. Some people still don't count Roier as one of Richarlyson's fathers, but they're practically begging for Bad to be one. Or they've been like "Well Roier can't take care of Richarlyson, he'll get him killed just like how he got Bobby killed!" since June

And now we have Roier and Pepito and Otipep's non-canon leaving a sign in English for other parents to see how bad of a parent Roier has to be. qBad saying "Well, Richarlyson is a better parent than Roier is."

But then we have qRoier himself not wanting to be a parent again but taking care of Pepito anyway and giving Pepito cookies when the other islanders could technically take care of Pepito for him. He doesn't trust Pepito at all and he thinks Pepito is evil and a clone or whatever sent to distract him from the Federation, but he's taking care of Pepito anyway, and he's done a pretty okay job at it considering how genuinely depressed and suicidal he is. He's been spending all night every night working on something in secret, but he still went to hang out with Pepito instead of continuing to work on it or instead of sleeping or whatever.

Pepito loves Pepito's dad, and Pepito has been wanting to really connect with him. When ccRoier gets better and feels well enough to get online, I wouldn't be surprised if Pepito stuck close to him to try and cheer him up because! Pepito adores him!! Pepito doesn't want a different father; if Pepito did, Pepito would've hung around Forever or Bagi or Bad all day like Otipep would've (because Otipep hated Roier and wanted a different parent)

But people- and, again, mostly English-POV-onlies, and specifically BBH-POV-Onlies- have decided that Pepito needs to be rescued. Roier is a bad father, Otipep is canon despite several ccs and admins and Quackity himself saying otherwise, Pepito needs someone who can take care of Pepito, and that person? Obviously qBadBoyHalo, who is literally dying in canon. Bad is NOT healthy at all, anyone looking at him can see that.

Not one of Pepito's other parents (who happen to all be Latin American, majority Mexican + Carre the Argentinean.) Not any of the Brazilians or the French. One of the English CCs, who doesn't even speak Pepito's language (because Pepito doesn't like writing in anything but Spanish because! Pepito's parents are all Hispanic! Why would Pepito need to write in English around them?)

So, really, people need to take a look at their attitudes and consider whether or not they think Roier is and always has been a bad father because of his actions or because he's a Mexican man. Same reason why people need to think about this regarding qMariana and Flippa, and qQuackity with Richarlyson.

Because, to me (admittedly as a gringo myself), this all reeks of xenophobia. Why else would a Mexican character and cc and his fans be constantly harassed by overwhelmingly-American fans in defense of a white American man who has not once asked them to do this. Fans demanding Pepito speak in English last night when Pepito was hanging out with Bad and being unhappy when Pepito spoke in Spanish. Fans consistently demonizing the Latin American members and characters and eggs on the server, whether it's the Latin American Hispanics or the Brazilians.

Last night, Bad's fans led a hate campaign against Roier and Cellbit fans on Twitter. They've been pulling this shit for weeks now since Pepito first showed up, and I really think that they need to take a step back and touch some grass and consider their values because this issue goes far deeper than character analysis, I think.

#asks! #anon! #discourse #maybe it's not my place to speak on this as a gringo but like #this is absolutely fucked up beyond all belief #the harassment i've seen these past few weeks is RIDICULOUS #should NOT be happening

[lunardeao3]

No, I won't post updates of Downfall until Sunday 4th of December. This is the reason why 👇🏼

I chose to participate to the No Post November strike alongside many authors in solidarity with everyone who has been the victim of censorship and harassment these past few weeks. I hesitated a lot before posting this because I didn't know if it was my place to speak up about the ongoing issue in the fandom or not considering I'm just a small author and thankfully I haven't been the target of anything as dreadful as this yet but also I think this isn't about popularity but humanity or especially the lack of humanity the fandom is showing towards authors. We are humans just like you, we are not robots and we definitely don't owe you anything. If I want to post 2 chapters in a week and then nothing the next week, then this is on me. Do not read WIP if you can't stand the uncertainty coming along with it because that's on you, not on me. I believe it shouldn't be normal to turn our hobby into something that it wasn't supposed to be in first place and pressuring authors into supplying the fandom with content. I consider AO3 to be like a little window to my mind, a little window behind which I allow you to take a look at what my brain made up but you can't touch and edit in no way. You don't have that power, this isn't your place to. This is my work and it belongs to me and in no way readers should have the right to have a go at me because I wrote something they didn't like. (And no, I am not talking about something harmful but about the plot of the fic, generally speaking). In my opinion, the issue is something everyone should address no matter how many hits they get on their work(s) because it is literally slowly killing the fandom. Now, more than ever the community should be united against the violence constantly thrown at the authors' faces. So many authors felt forced to leave the fandom the past months, so many left without even getting the opportunity to tell the story they had spent so much time building and sharing with us because of the unnerving amount of hate they received. The truth is: being an author in the Marauders Fandom — especially the Jegulus fandom — is honestly torturous sometimes.

As a smaller author I think it is important to address the problem because it also impacts me and my writing, my mental health and it ignites my insecurities to the point writing becomes harder someday and it is sometimes even a source of anxiety which is not okay. Writing is probably the best thing I have in my life and I hate feeling nervous about the reactions I could get depending on how people would interpret a chapter I wrote. It's not the common nervousness when you share something with a community and you wait for feedback, no. It's literally fear of being bullied over something I may have written because people don't know how to address issues, concerns or divergence of opinion without immediately getting hateful. I personally never have experienced anything too bad thus far and I truly hope it'll remain the same for a while longer but I've witnessed it too many times recently, it makes me sick to my stomach. I've seen bigger authors receiving death threats and hateful comments/messages during the past few weeks. I've also seen a sickening amount of people gathering to bully them online sometimes. This getting out of hand and this is absolutely awful.

What the fuck?

What truly astonishes me is that people are fighting authors about ridiculous stuff mostly such as headcanons, ships, characterisations (yes Evan Rosier can be a fucking sunshine or darker than a hurricane because the man didn't live during the Harry Potter era and we don't know shit about him, so any headcanons are valid as long as they're not harmful, no you can not tell me Regulus is too dark or not dark enough either because I am the one writing his character, this is my fic and this is how I perceive him so I'm just going to write him exactly how I want to and that's it) or the way they told their stories — which belong to no one but them.

The recent events made me feel insecure about posting during two weeks, I eventually posted but only because I love my fic and the story I tell so I wanted to share but this is getting impossible to ignore the elephant in the room anymore. The thing is that I hate feeling like I have to tiptoe around certain topics when I write. I used to write chapters for myself, they came out as I imagined them and now I feel pressured into censorship. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how many times I rewrite and reread a chapter before posting it just to make sure I wouldn't offense somebody and get targeted. I always try to diminish the impact of heavy scenes by avoiding describing them or only partially when I particularly enjoy descriptions and studying the complex feelings resulting from traumatic experiences. I believe those are important enough to be discussed — especially in a fic based on Sirius and Regulus growing up and going through literally hell. Yet I feel forced to carefully pick my words and to censor myself while describing those traumatic situations because I am afraid of how they could be perceived. If it was just about that, I believe it wouldn't matter that much but the thing is I use my fic to cope with my personal traumas (not in a very weird way but more like seeing those characters reacting to things I can relate to help me, I feel less alone with the struggles then) and I know that I am not the only one doing that which makes it only sadder to think our safe escape suddenly became anything but safe.

(Also, while I'm at it, let's take a minute to talk about Regulus please. What the fuck is wrong with people?? I have read so many fics before I began writing mine and I had never found one fic where the PoVs were from both Regulus and Sirius so I thought it would be cool to explore it the way I do in Downfall except I didn't expect the whole gatekeeping thing around Regulus?? Why would you do that?? I am sincerely confused as to why people decided Regulus had to be a certain way and this way only).

Anyway, I made the decision to participate to the No Post November because I believe our silence would speak louder than our words. Zar, Mots, Soph, and many other authors already tried to bring awareness to the issue yet nothing has changed, if anything it worsened. I believe going on strike could make a difference, I hope so at least because if that doesn't work then I am very pessimistic about the future of the fandom. Pushing authors out of the fandom is the biggest counterproductive thing to do for they're literally the ones keeping the fandom alive — them among any other creators sharing their content to the fandom. Also, I know this is supposed to be just about Jegulus but I made the decision not to post any updates for Renegade during November. I'll post the next chapter on the 1st of December and not before.

That being said, do not bully anyone who would decide not to join the movement, this is perfectly okay and their reasons don't need to be voiced. No one owe you anything, especially not an explanation as to way they decided not to participate. Anyone can decide whether or not they want to join, it's a personal choice which shouldn't be forced upon anyone.

Be gentle and take care of yourself 🦋

#no post november #jegulus author strike

[jovialyouthmusic]

Go Shorty!

(It's my birthday!)

In a kind of weird reverse universe, this is my gift to anyone who enjoys my Bastien Lykel fics, queued to be posted on my birthday. I've noted Fabricio's recent image change and it inspired the following - what would Bastien's family think if he shaved off his iconic goatee? Enjoy, its all fluff xx

Word Count 2035

Double Trouble

The last lecture of the week completed, Sophia was in her university office just putting her papers together when the faculty secretary put her head round the door.

‘Sophia, your home help has been in touch, she said it’s urgent’

‘Thanks Lizzy, I’ll be leaving soon anyway. It’s been a long week, I’m glad I’ve nothing on this afternoon.’ Sophia turned her mobile phone back on to see that Morag had left her a voice mail. She held the phone at arm’s length as she played back the sound of a harassed young woman and a squealing toddler in full meltdown.

‘Mrs Lykel, I’m sorry tae bother ye, but yer wee lassie’s upset, and her father cannae soothe her. Please call back when ye can. Or just come hame.’ Sophia frowned. It wasn’t like Bastien to fail to settle Beatrice. Little princess that she was, she was Daddy’s girl while Sophia was out at work through the week and welded to Sophia’s side at the weekend. She dialled the landline of their top floor regency apartment in the centre of Edinburgh that the University had allocated them. It was Bastien who answered, and all was quiet beyond his voice.

‘Sophia!’ he sounded flustered ‘Morag’s just got her to settle, did you get the message?’

‘It’s an odd time of day for a nap, is she running a temperature?’

‘Errm no, she’s hot, but she’s not ill. She’s just been crying...’

‘How do you know she’s not ill if she’s hot?’ Sophia demanded, making her way along the corridor to the car park to their SUV. Her mind span with possibilities.

‘I uh – you’ll understand when you get here, I can’t explain right now.’ Sophia decided not to stop off at the shops on the way, hoping Morag could go and get what was needed before she clocked off for the weekend. She wished she’d had the foresight to order a supermarket delivery, but she preferred to shop herself. With or without the children, she loved browsing the aisles of Waitrose when it wasn’t busy. Bastien was a surprisingly poor shopper and stuck religiously to the list, whereas she’d discover little treats and bargains that wouldn’t stretch her salary. Living in the city was expensive, although not nearly as much as if they’d moved to London, and having Morag to help was a slight strain on resources. Setting up Bastien’s security consultancy was taking longer than expected thanks to the complexity of looking after twins, and the retainer from King Liam in Cordonia was only just enough for small luxuries.

As soon as she opened the door to the apartment, Morag was there pulling her coat on and shouldering her bag.

‘Morag, I was hoping you’d be able to get some supp…’ Sophia started, but she was already pushing past her to the landing outside.

‘Ah’ll be back the Monday.’ she said shortly, and Sophia was left peering over the banister to the stairwell after her rapidly retreating figure, wondering what had happened. She turned back inside to meet Bastien holding Theo.

‘Mama.’ he crowed in jubilant greeting. Bastien stepped out of the shadowed hall, and all became clear.

‘Bas, you shaved!’ she gasped. She’d never seen her husband without facial hair in the few years she’d known him. He still had a neat ‘tache, but his trimmed goatee was gone, his chin and jawline bare. He looked sheepish, and she knew she shouldn’t have teased him about the streak of white in his beard. He handed over Theo, who pointed at Bastien.

‘Dada face.’ he proclaimed.

‘Yes, I thought perhaps…’ his voice trailed off ‘Well, that is, I mean...’

‘Beatrice didn’t like it, did she? Honestly Bas, you should have thought – why didn’t you say something?’ He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

‘I thought perhaps a younger image might drum up some more business.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, age means experience, people are more likely to trust a distinguished looking gent.’ she scoffed. He sighed in exasperation.

‘Well the damage is done. Beatrice took one look at me and bawled her eyes out. Morag tried to calm her down, but every time she saw me again she’d set off crying.’

‘Well no wonder, you look completely different. How about Theo?’ she asked.

‘You know him – a bomb would go off and he wouldn’t flinch.’ In response Theo wriggled to get down, bored at the adult conversation. He toddled off to the toybox in the lounge to rummage for his current favourite, a shape sorting puzzle.

‘Well, I’d better go and take a look at her.’ Sophia sighed. ‘If she’s been crying all morning she’ll probably not wake up for a while.’ She feared that the disruption to her sleep schedule meant they’d be in for a rocky night at the very least, if not a couple of days. She opened the door to their bedroom a crack but could see little, as the curtains were drawn tight. Normally they let a little light in for daytime naps so the children would know night from day. She crept in and let her eyes adjust to the gloom. Beatrice lay on her back in her day clothes, one arm flung back over her head and her other thumb in her mouth. That wasn’t a good sign – she’d not used that form of self soothing for a couple of months. Her hair was damp and face flushed, but her breathing was steady and peaceful.

Sophia carefully held her palm over her forehead, feeling the slight heat coming off it. Bastien joined her, gazing down at the toddler, but she motioned him out of the room and followed quietly.

‘Well, she’s okay for now. I’d better be here for when she wakes up, so you can go shopping for the weekend.’ Bastien’s face dropped.

‘On a Friday? The traffic’s mayhem – can’t we order in?’

‘I couldn’t stop on the way back, and there won’t be any free delivery slots until at least Monday, you know that.’ She sighed. ‘If you take Theo with you it’ll be easier for when Bea wakes up, and you can play the ‘Dad doing the chores’ role, that’ll get you to the front of the checkout queue. Give him a banana, that will keep him happy.’

‘Narners?’ Theo called from the lounge, and came toddling to find Sophia, clinging to her leg and pulling at her clothes.

‘Lunch first, Theo, then Daddy will take you shopping. Won’t that be lovely? All boys together.’

‘Sopping’ Theo cried happily, then looked over at Bastien. ‘Mummy sopping?’ he asked hopefully. He knew Sophia was more likely to treat him than his father, although he did like pointing out the things Daddy couldn’t find. Perhaps he’d treat him more without his sister there to steal the limelight.

‘No darling, Mummy has to look after Bea.’

‘Bee cwy. Dada face.’

‘Yes, silly Daddy took his beard off. He’s funny isn’t he?’

‘Dada silly!’ Theo cried triumphantly and pointed at him. Bastien scowled.

‘Yes well okay, let’s all laugh at Daddy.’ he grumbled as Sophia picked Theo up and balanced him on her hip.

‘Well it’s better than crying’ she said acidly. ‘Now, do you want to make lunch, or shall I?’

-------

Lunchtime was much simpler than normal with just Theo to feed. The couple could eat their own food while the toddler busied himself with cheese sandwiches made with wholemeal bread. He left the crusts, but Sophia had discovered it pointless cutting them off, as he left some bread around the edge just as if the crust were still there. She often saved them to feed the ducks at the park with the twins. Bastien had literally just closed the door to take Theo out to the supermarket when she heard Beatrice stirring. She went into her quickly, to find her standing at the bars to the cot, hair curling round her face and cheeks blotchy.

‘Mummy.’ Her voice was croaky and she looked miserable. ‘Dada face!’ she told her. She stretched her arms up and Sophia scooped her up as she rubbed her eyes sleepily. Perhaps she’d think it was a dream.

‘Well hello my little Bea, you’ve had a difficult morning. Are you hungry?’ She nodded sleepily.

‘Sippy sippy, Mummy.’ The little girl was obviously thirsty too.

‘Of course darling, you can have juice. Do you want sandwiches?’

‘Widges, Mummy.’ She looked across to Theo’s cot. ‘Where Feeo?’ Sophia sucked in her breath. It was very rare that the children were separated and she braced herself for trouble.

‘He’s gone out to the shops to get more narners, darling.’ The little girl clung on to her and rested her head on her chest, seemingly pleased to have Sophia to herself. She carried her through to the kitchen and filled her sippy cup with juice. Gratefully Bea grabbed at it and drank greedily, eyes rolling back in bliss.

‘All gone’ she shook it upside down, sprinkling the last dregs on the floor. Luckily the sandwiches were ready from earlier so Sophia put them on the tray of the high chair. Bea shook her head and clung on tight as she tried to put her down.

‘Okay darling, you can sit on my knee this time’ she said gently, and sat at the table, the little girl firmly nestled on her lap. She reached out to take a sandwich and squeezed it in her fist before stuffing half of it in her mouth, crumbs falling everywhere. She was hungry, and Sophia wondered if she’d had anything to eat before her father’s transformation. She waited until she’d slowed down.

‘Morag told me you were upset this morning.’ she said gently. The little girl took a shuddering breath.

‘Dada face bad.’ she said, putting her hand to her chin. Sophia stepped in before the cycle of crying could restart.

‘I know, Bea. He shaved his beard off. He looks funny now, doesn’t he? Theo was laughing at Daddy.’ Beatrice burrowed into her side again, hiding her face. ‘It’s okay darling, he just looks different. He still loves you – and me, and Theo. Silly Daddy, he’ll grow it back.’

‘Where Daddy?’ she asked, voice muffled.

‘He took Theo out to get more narners.’

‘Sopping?’ Beatrice relaxed and looked up at her enquiringly.

‘That’s right. Is there anything you want from the shops? I can call Daddy on his phone and tell him.’ The tot looked thoughtful.

‘Ice kweem?’

‘Okay, if Daddy brings you ice cream will you give him a kiss? His face is all smooth now, like Mummy’s.’ Beatrice giggled at the thought.

‘Like Mummy!’ she exclaimed. ‘Daddymummy!’

‘You can talk to him on the phone if you like, tell him what you want.’ Sophia got out her phone and texted Bastien.

Call when you can, Bea wants to ask you for ice cream

It was a few minutes before her phone rang, during which time she had changed the little girl’s nappy and was dressing her in clean clothes.

‘Oh that will be Daddy, just wait a minute darling.’ Beatrice opened and closed her hands, demanding it for herself, but Sophia put it on speakerphone.

‘Beatrice is here, Bas. She wants to ask you something.’

‘Daddymummy!’ Beatrice burbled. ‘Ice kweem, Daddy.’

‘Come on now, say please.’ Sophia prompted. Beatrice put on her cutest expression, unaware that her father couldn’t see it.

‘Pweese Daddy, stawby.’

‘Okay Bea, I’ll get strawberry ice cream. I love you, my little Bea. I’m sorry I scared you.’

‘Silly Daddy. Kisses!’ There was a short pause before Bastien obliged, blowing kisses to his daughter. Sophia tried not to laugh, wondering where he was and who could see him.

‘Okay now Bea, Daddy has to get the rest of the shopping. He’ll be back soon.’

‘Bye Daddy.’

‘Bye, my sweeting. Be good for Mummy.’ Beatrice slid off Sophia’s lap and went off to the toybox, obviously happy with life, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

‘If it’s any help, I told her your face is like Mummy’s now, so be prepared to be called Daddymummy until she’s forgotten. You’d better grow that beard back fast, mister.’ she said in a low tone. 'and be prepared for a rough bedtime, she'll be full of beans after that nap.'

@sirbeepsalot @katedrakeohd @fluffyfirewhiskey @bascmve01 @rainbowsinthestorm @nomadics-stuff @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30​ @stopforamoment

#sophia x bastien #bastien lykel #double trouble