Eleanor Borak woke up the day after Midge’s birthday party with a headache and the undeniable feeling that something had changed. She blinked in the late morning sunlight, the glare making her groan in pain. It wasn’t the worst hangover she’d ever had. No, that had been her friends’ graduation. She remembered waking up in a literal bathtub with Hux sprawled on the mat next to the toilet. He had coughed, thrown up in said toilet, and then flopped back to sleep on the tile floor. Apparently Jacques had been found under Hux’s brother’s bed with another student, half naked. Flo had woken them all up by banging on a cauldron and they all swore never to drink like that again.

Ellie’s own graduation had been a little more subdued. Her parents had taken her out for a nice dinner and afterwards her friends had thrown her a party, with thankfully a lot less alcohol. Hux had snuck into the Head Girl dorm that night for some other activities and it had been a wonderful night.

Speaking of… Ellie turned her head with some effort and saw her husband, still asleep and breathing deeply. His hair was a mess, sticking wildly all over his head and she knew he was going to have funny lines on his face from the way he was mashed into his pillow. Even now, she was still ridiculously attracted to him, and last night had been no different. When he’d slid under the bar to start making drinks with his sleeves rolled up, oh she could’ve had him right there on the dance floor. Luckily, she managed to refrain herself until they got home. Then all bets were off. Considering the athletics of last night, Ellie felt very much like a shower was in order.

Stretching deeply, she took a breath and slowly sat up. Thankfully it was just her head and feet that hurt, from the drinking and dancing respectively. Pulling back the covers, she shuffled towards the washroom, feeling the strangeness wash over her again. She debated looking in the mirror above the sink, but decided against it, turning on the shower instead.

The hot water felt glorious and the random pains melted away and flowed down the drain with the dirt and glitter from the night before. She tried not to take too long; Hux always grumbled when there wasn’t enough hot water for him. Hogwarts was a very large and old castle, and while magic could do a lot and their apartments were more than suitable, nothing was perfect.

Wrapped in a fluffy blue towel, Ellie wiped at the foggy mirror with her forearm and grabbed her hairbrush from the drawer. As she brushed her hair out, the steam making her natural waves frizz, she couldn’t help but look at herself in confusion. She didn’t look different. Her face was the same, her body was the same, her hair was the same. So why did she feel so odd? Not sick exactly, but rather like something inside of her was different, fundamentally changed. She turned her face back and forth, tried to look at her own back for marks or a growth even, and there was nothing. Maybe it was just the hangover.

Putting the brush back with a shrug, Ellie continued her morning routine. She applied lotion, brushed her teeth, took an almost hilariously long piss (no doubt caused by the booze from last night), and put on her robe.

She exited the washroom quietly in case Hux was still sleeping. She was surprised to see he was. Normally he was an early riser, up and out the door before she barely finished her breakfast. But he was still in bed, thankfully on his back now. Shaking her head in fond amusement, Ellie went to the kitchen and prepared tea and toast. That was all she thought she could handle right now. More and more sun came through the curtains and as the scent of tea filled the little apartment, Ellie felt better and better.

A groan from the bedroom reached her ears and she grabbed the tea tray, heading back to her husband. He was on his stomach again, head under his pillow and butt in the air, groaning like he was dying. This is the man you married Ellie, the one you promised to love forever, a voice inside her remarked. She did chuckle this time and the noise caught his attention. Throwing the pillow to the ground, he sat up quickly and smoothed down his bright red locks.

“Good morning my dear. You look lovely, how are you feeling?” He asked as she approached the bed. He reached for his wand on the bedside table and levitated the tray, floating it out of her hands and onto the bed. Ellie got back into bed next to Hux, kissing his cheeks in thanks.

“I’m alright. Ugh, you stink. Make sure you take a shower before you leave.” She said, her nose wrinkling. Hux glared at her over his cup of tea.

“I’m well aware of my appearance, I did just wake up after a large and uproariously fun party.” He countered, spreading butter on the toast for her. Ellie was busy adding milk and sugar to her cup so she appreciated the gesture. Having taken a few fortifying sips of tea, Hux relaxed against the headboard, pillow between him and the curling metal.

”It was fun, wasn’t it? Though I do hope that Midge and Kylo made up. I was so sure he was going to stop being a child and actually attend. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Ellie said, more to herself than to Hux. He hummed in response.

“I don’t either. He’s normally shy but this seems extreme. Maybe I’ll try and talk to him later, or tomorrow if he’s too busy sulking. But otherwise I had a very good time last night. You threw an excellent party my dear.” He said, pulling her close to him as they lounged on the bed and ate their light breakfast. Ellie preened at the compliment and there was companionable silence for several minutes.

“You were so handsome last night darling. I found the image of you mixing those cocktails very arousing.” She said matter-of-factly. Hux looked at her in dawning realization.

“That’s why you leapt on me as soon as we got home? If I knew it was that easy, I would’ve mixed drinks more often or become a bartender.” He teased as Ellie set her cup back on the tray and moved it to the little settee at the foot of their bed. While Hux added his, she performed a quick cleaning charm to get rid of any crumbs they may have left in the bed.

“I’m not easy!” She shot back in mock outrage. Hux grabbed her around the middle and pulled her down flat on the bed, resting partially on top of her.

“On the contrary kitten, you were and are exceedingly easy. You’ve been in love with me since we were kids.” He said, a smug grin on his face. Ellie made a motion to argue, but he leaned down and kissed her and the thought dissipated like smoke.

And well, he wasn’t wrong, not exactly. While Eleanor hadn’t been in love with him as kids, she definitely was interested in him. As much as a child could be. He was so haughty, even then, straight-backed and taller than all the other boys. He and Kylo would stand in the corner, their eyes glaring down at anyone they deemed unworthy. Ellie distinctly remembers seeing his red hair and deciding it looked very pretty and soft. At one point her Pureblood family was introduced to his, but other than that, they never interacted.

It wasn’t until her third year, his fifth; that they actually truly met and became friends. Seeing him at 15, his face starting to lose the boyish roundness of his youth, how could she not find him endearing? True, he was still haughty, and deeply annoying to 13 year old Ellie, but he also became a friend and confidant. It was through Hux that she was able to have some of the best experiences of her life, with her greatest friends. But while she may have been easy, falling for Hux as easy as breathing, he certainly wasn’t difficult to win over. All she had to do was grow up a little; fill out the curves she’d inherited from her mother, cut her hair into a fashionable short style, and learn to listen more than speak. As she matured, he had too, so when they finally saw each other on the Hogwarts Express for her fifth year and his last, they’d known right there and then.

They’d been together ever since, and despite a two month period after Kylo’s arrest and Hux’s fall from grace when they weren’t speaking, things had been smooth sailing. Their little family, filled with friends both old and new, was all they needed.

The couple kissed and caressed in the late morning air, unhurried and decadent. Then Hux’s hand traveled up Ellie’s bare leg to briefly rest on her stomach. She froze, though she couldn’t say why. It wasn’t that she suddenly felt nauseous or hurt. But she froze and Hux froze and looked at her in concern.

“Are you alright dear? Is something hurting you?” He asked as Ellie’s eyes glazed over for a moment before she pushed him away and raced towards the washroom again. He followed her, bare feet smacking against the wood floor.

She stared at the mirror again, turning her head and body this way and that. Again Hux asked her if she was okay but she didn’t answer. Finally she just stared into her own eyes, breathing slow and deep. Hux had his hands out as if expecting her to collapse.

“I’m fine, I think I’m fine. I just feel odd today, not bad, just odd.” She said quietly, her voice sounding far away. Hux’s shoulders dropped their tension but he still eyed her warily.

Something had changed within her, she was different now. Though she couldn’t really know, and wouldn’t really know until she spoke to a healer, Eleanor knew.

Finally, after all their years trying; all the false starts and the dashed hopes, it had happened. This time felt real, this time felt good. It was ridiculous for her to feel this way, completely illogical, but she couldn’t deny how she felt. She was pregnant.

Turning back to her husband, Ellie smiled and felt tears slip out and roll down her face. Hux approached her slowly, kissing her deeply and wiping the tears away with his thumb. 

“Please tell me what’s going on. Are you upset? Why are you crying? Is everything okay?” He asked, pulling her into a hug.

She breathed in the scent of his skin, the sweat and alcohol and sex and tea and bedsheets mingling together over what was just him. She kissed his chest, barely moving her head as he cradled her gently against his body. One day she wouldn’t be able to do this. A belly would appear and come between them, making them find alternate ways to sleep and kiss and hold. The thought excited her more than maybe anything else.

“Yes darling, I’m wonderful. I feel wonderful.”

-

Hope - @callmehopeless

The Australian bushfires of the 2019-2020 season were nightmarish—for those living through it and those witnessing. As the season went on, cries for help increased. Joaquin Phoenix used the time during his Best-Actor acceptance speech at the Golden Globes to call for unity, action, and accountability. Regardless of what we may think of him, it was a thoughtful speech.

Hope, who is an Australian, found Mr. Phoenix's message encouraging and reblogged a gifset of his speech.

That morning, Zannah made a post about Mr. Phoenix's shady past and his association with a known sexual predator. The main reason wasn't because his speech was inappropriate or not timely, but because she didn't think he should be the one to get the attention over other actors who had spoken of the bushfires during the Golden Globes.

While Hope confessed she was scared of the bushfires, scared for her loved ones, Zannah was more concerned with purity. To Zannah it was about the face of the message, not the message itself. It didn't matter that Mr. Phoenix was amplifying support for Australia, what did matter was that he had done bad things.

It was virtue signaling on Zannah's part.

Still, this remains a complicated argument. Can a person who has done bad things actually have something positive to add to a cause? Should we listen to a problematic person if they share an insight? Does it reflect poorly on us to agree with their isolated statement? Will we be canceled, too? What about the bigger picture?

In this case, the bigger picture was hundreds of homes were destroyed in the bushfires and families were displaced. People died, thousands of animals died. And it was because of climate change. Mr. Phoenix called for his rich peers to examine their respective lifestyles and to give back.

Yes, Mr. Phoenix has done bad things. Yes, he has associated with people who have done bad things. His words resonated with people on Tumblr, and they reblogged part of his speech. He said something that gave Hope hope.

Hope was asked by a third party how they could help. She came back with a resource guide for those who wanted to send aid to Australians.

When it became obvious Zannah wouldn't silence Hope, Zannah decided to sub-post about the interaction. There, she accused Hope of being a rape apologist for reblogging a gifset and finding a little comfort in it. Zannah placed her ego before someone who was facing a very real danger.

Side-eying an actor is one thing, shaming a person you know for finding solace during a scary time is another. Hope isn't responsible for which voice got picked up. The only "colors" being shown here are Zannah's. She put her own concerns about being perceived as morally pure above actually supporting a friend.

I'll keep this brief - I knew Zannah for many years. And on one of the lowest weeks of my life, when my suburb was burning down and I feared for my family: she convinced me I was a rape apologist for sharing Joaquin Phoenix's speech asking for action on bushfires. In all my life, I never felt more alone. To add insult to injury, she then posted memes mocking me - something that has stuck with me to this day.

I've had dear friends quit the fandom because of her kinkshaming. I've had people I love message me distraught over what she's said.

Enough is enough.

— @callmehopeless

-

Rose - @the-wayward-rose​

This PM exchange started after I tagged my reblog of Zannah's fic Feast (Cameron Bistle x Reader) with cw: white reader. I had been on her taglist, and I wanted to show support because I liked the fic overall. For context, the reason for my tag is because of this sentence:

"But then you're blushing so pretty and squeezing his hand affectionately and reaching for the handle to the passenger side of his car, and then you're laughing when he swats your hand away to open it for you, and then you're beckoning him down as if to ask a question – only to place a chaste kiss to his lips instead."

This is from Cameron's point of view.

She asked the reason for the tag, and I explained it was because of the use of "blush" to describe Reader's appearance.

She misunderstood my premise. I did not mean only white people blush.

According to Merriam-Webster, blush means "a reddening of the face especially from shame, modesty, or confusion" or "a red or rosy tint."

It is an autonomic response, though. It happens in all humans for body cooling and nonverbal communication. The main problem with using it universally is that melanin obscures the appearance of said autonomic response.

Here's an example of three runners:

The two pale women, left and center, are pink in the face. They are blushing. The woman of color on the right is likely blushing, too. However, the melanin in her skin obscures the blood in her cheeks. She is not pink.

That's the pitfall of the word "blush." The observer can't always see it. We know what it feels like. We all do it. The face and/or neck gets hot. The use of "blush" is shorthand in narrative, and I understand that. Nevertheless, when writing to cater to a reader-insert audience of unknown heritage, writers need to consider describing with universal terms.

Again, she misunderstood my premise. I clarified by asking how Cameron sees the Reader blush under an abundance of melanin:

She sidestepped the physiological explanation to go straight for justification. She tried to legitimize "blush" as "perhaps [this]" or "perhaps [that]" when I stated earlier that blush by definition is pink or is to redden. That's the logic. A noncommittal, covering-all-the-bases, complicated defense diluted the conversation.

With her earlier "I have friends of color, hence I can't be exclusionary" statement, I wasn't sure she would get my point. I take full responsibility for not explaining, too. I should've asked for some time to gather my thoughts, but I didn't. Truthfully, I was unprepared, because I didn't think my insignificant tag would be an issue.

Also, I was confused why she was trying to police my blog.

Her replies came rapidly—before I could mention my confusion—and felt aggressive in the moment. Maybe that wasn't her intention, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

That doesn't take away from the fact that words have meaning. It's why we use specific words. It's not understood in the narrative that her use of "blush" could mean a bunch of things. If I had known, I wouldn't have tagged as I did. How is a reader of color supposed to know that? How does Cameron see Reader's blush if she has darker skin?

As writers, we don't know who is reading. Someone could be very pale or very dark. A person with medium-toned skin can turn a shade of pink or red. A person with darker-toned skin will not. We can't assume all readers are medium to pale. We need to develop better writing skills. We have to include everyone.

Readers of color > White-writer feelings

When I stood my ground, she doubled down, stating I made no sense in my tagging and that I lacked the ability to learn from her. She then diverted the argument, attacking a ficlet I wrote a few days beforehand—which had nothing to do with this argument. The Christian imagery in that ficlet was upsetting to her and "in such poor taste" because she headcanons Flip Zimmerman (BlacKkKlansman) is 100% culturally and ethnically Jewish.

Flip stated in the movie:

"I'm Jewish, but I wasn't raised to be. It wasn't part of my life. I never thought much about being Jewish. Nobody around me was Jewish. I wasn't going to a bunch of Bar Mitzvahs. I didn't have a Bar Mitzvah. I was just another white kid. And now I'm in some basement denying it out loud[...] I never thought much about it. Now I'm thinking about it all the time. About rituals and heritage. Is that passing? Well then, I have been passing."

By his own admission, Flip is ethnically Jewish, but not culturally. These are two separate things, and that should be recognized. While Judaism is ethnically and culturally entwined in ways that other religions are not, one does not equate the other. You can be one and not the other.

At the time, I didn't want her to sic her 3000+ followers on me. I wasn't going to argue further. I asked myself if the ficlet was important and worth anon-hate and realized, no, it wasn't. It was a throw-away.

And since I'm not culturally Jewish, maybe I had misstepped. And since Zannah is both culturally and ethnically Jewish, I asked for her guidance.

She flatly refused my request. I don't know how I was supposed to learn from her if she wouldn't teach me.

It sounded as if she wanted me to delete the whole fic. Like none of it was worth saving because it hadn't been Zannah-approved. I had gone against her headcanon, and the fic was too offensive to fix.

The last sentence was supposed to cover her back from criticism, and it placed all the responsibility on me. Obviously, she was above such petty concerns as someone else's blog or writing. Never mind that she had just attempted to get me to change my tagging system and rewrite my ficlet. On my blog.

Later, I figured out she was only criticizing and not offering a constructive critique. Her argument was not in good faith. It was retaliation for not giving her the obedience she thought she was owed.

This is the passage that offended her:

"It’s because of the way he fucks you. Like it’s confession—though he’s never been much of a church-going man. Every touch, every thrust, is a truth between you. Even when it’s rough and greedy. It feels like flagellation when you claw his back. He wears the sin proudly."

This is what I edited it to:

"It’s because of the way he fucks you. Every touch, every thrust, is a truth between you. Even when it’s rough and greedy. It feels like flagellation when you claw his back. He wears your marks proudly."

Yeah, I'm not pleased with the revised passage. It's lost its teeth, but I keep it.

The anonymous message(s) she mentioned weren't very anonymous, either. Unfortunately, I've since deleted the two messages. I had apologized to Anon for disappointing them. I said that if the fic was too much, they should unfollow and block me. I meant that in a self-care way. At the same time, I did not—and do not—owe anyone discourse. I don't have to explain my art when it doesn't hurt anyone. And no one was hurt by some purportedly misplaced religious imagery.

I have been silent about this since late January/early February. I was embarrassed. I had been bullied into changing my blog and my fic by someone who proclaims to never do anything of the sort. I had been a fool. Since this conversation with her, I have been blocked/blacklisted by third-parties, most likely at her behest, when none of this exchange had been necessary.

-

Kassanovella - @kylorengarbagedump​​

Zannah's followers have asked her about Kassanovella’s Fix Your Attitude. For context, it's currently one of the most kudo-ed fics for Kylo Ren x Reader on AO3. It had a bit of a renaissance earlier in 2020 because a TikToker wrote a song for it.

There is nothing wrong with not wanting to read a fic. If the subject matter doesn't work for a reader, they don't have to partake. Easy as that. So, these tags aren't a problem.

However, it led to this...

She lashed out, calling Kassanovella's fic a joke. A joke.

She implied her fics should be as popular as Kassanovella's because she works really hard on them. She admitted she's tied to the metrics. She implied she wouldn't be writing fic if not for the external validation.

Here's the thing about fanfic: readers like what they like. They don't care about a writer's effort. They only know what works for them. They comment and give kudos, reblog and like what they connect with. That is not under the writer's control. All a writer can do is try their best and concentrate on what they're passionate about.

To bash another writer's fic because it's popular is disrespectful. This whole bitter rant drips of entitlement and is an affront to Kassanovella.

Some time later, an incident happened in a chatroom during a streaming event for veterans by Arts In the Armed Forces (Adam Driver's organization). At least one fan brought up Fix Your Attitude while waiting for Mr. Driver to make an appearance. They were also disrespectful towards the other presenters by demanding to see Mr. Driver. It caused a big stink within the fandom, and Zannah had some choice words.

While mentioning the fic during the livestream was inappropriate, it was also inappropriate to throw all fans of the fic under the bus as she did in her tag. Sweeping generalizations and incriminations of a subset of fans certainly reads as if she resents those fans for a perceived slight.

Next, Zannah made an earlier disparaging comment about Kassanovella's fic, Little Bird. Unfortunately, that comment is lost. However, the messages supporting the comment remain. (For context, Little Bird is a Kylo Ren x Reader The Handmaid's Tale AU. It has been well received in the fandom, earning thousands of kudos on AO3.)

What an author wants to write about and sexualize is their business. Fantasizing about being dominated by Kylo Ren isn't cringe. It's a sexual fantasy. Some sexual fantasies can be disturbing to those who do not share the same kink.

Sexual fantasies are like ice cream. There's a reason why there are different flavors.

Also, "I will never ever be a person that tells an author what to do or not do" is an absolute lie. As evident in this post, Zannah most definitely tells authors what to do or not do.

Again, she bashes Kassanovella, claiming her writing isn't good. Her motivation for bashing Kassanovella can only be speculation. With Zannah's previously stated opinion of Fix Your Attitude, though, it indicates a certain level of negative emotions.

-

Anonymous

An anonymous person came forward with a case of Zannah policing their blog. Anon has a sideblog for their personal AU with Flip Zimmerman. They reblog gifsets and post headcanons. They were an enthusiastic fan of Zannah's and reblogged a few of the gifset she made. Anon tagged their reactions, and Zannah blocked them for it.

Anon went to Zannah and asked why they were blocked, because all they wanted to do was have fun and support fellow Flip lovers.

Anon was under the impression that because they were shipping themselves, and not Zannah, with Flip, she blocked them. Their personal AU doesn't align with Zannah's headcanon that she alone is married to this character and has his children.

While Zannah's reply may sound innocent, and perhaps it is, it also speaks to someone who has set herself up as the owner of Flip Zimmerman. (Wait until Spike Lee or the real Ron Stallworth hears about that...) It appears that if a fan does not comply with the Zannah-approved headcanon, where only she is married to Flip, that fan shall be blocked. If a fan uses tags on their blog that she does not approve of, that fan will be blocked.

Zannah's policing is disturbing. Going into a blog to look for something as a reason to block is disturbing. Any fan is allowed to use any tag on their blog how they wish. If the OP has said their post can be reblogged, how a reblogger tags is beyond the OP's control. To punish that reblogger for not behaving in a way she finds acceptable is uncalled for and unjust.

-

Anonymous

Backstory: Zannah does not view Ben Solo's arc in the Star Wars sequel trilogy as acceptable canon. However, she does view the story she created for Flip Zimmerman in BlacKkKlansman as completely canon.

This is not the first time she has been asked to clarify her position. Nor is it the first time she has avoided giving an on-topic response. A question asked in good faith should be responded to in kind.

If a creator doesn't want to address the issue, they can state that they don't. Deflecting from the question only muddies the waters. Fans feel dismissed. The creator feels hounded, and comes across as irritated and unapproachable. No one has a positive fandom experience.

There is nothing wrong with having a headcanon. What is wrong is Zannah mandating her headcanon for Flip on the whole fandom. As evident in this post, if a fan does not comply with her headcanon, they will be summarily blocked.

Also, there is nothing wrong with rejecting canon. Writers of transformative works have always done this. The problem is shaming fans who have accepted canon while not offering justification for that shaming. A creator saying they "can't help them" is the creator washing their hands of responsibility from articulating their thoughts when they themselves began criticizing the canon in the first place.

Again, this is a bad-faith argument. Creators can't ask for discussion and attention and then get mad when their viewpoints are challenged. Just because a discussion isn't going a creator's way doesn't mean it's an attack, either. It means people want clarification, and if one criticizes, they should be able to back up their criticisms.

-

While sharing our stories has been freeing, it's not our aim as fellow fans to cancel Zannah. We would hope she would take the opportunity to reflect on the damage she has done to the fandom. We hope we all can move forward with a more approachable and supportive scene.

No one person speaks for our fandom. The actions of one fan do not represent the entire fandom. Whether creator or consumer, you are welcome here.

   You took one of Flip's flannels from your closet, buttoning it halfway and tying it up over your high waisted jeans.

   "We should do something tonight." Flip shouted at you from the living room.

   "Yeah, baby, what did you have in mind?"

     "Well, it's our anniversary, and I don't want the only thing we do today to be this dumb CSPD barbecue you're makin me go to" you walked out of your bedroom, clipping on your earrings, to see Flip sitting on the couch, going through one of your magazines.

     "Ron is going to be so happy you're going. And that's sweet of you, baby, but we don't have to do anything. We can just stay home, maybe watch some movies? I don't really feel like going anywhere."

     "Is that my shirt?" Flip looked up at you from the magazine to see you in his favorite red and black flannel.

      "You mean our shirt?" you teased back at him.

     "Oh, so we share clothes now?" Flip chuckled, clearly amused.

      "I like wearing your shirts; they're comfortable and besides" taking a quick pause as Flip quickly stood up, taking your purse from your hand, and setting it down on the couch before wrapping his arms around you, allowing you to continue. "I like smelling like my man all day."

       "Well, you can keep it." He smiled at you, bringing his face closer to yours "you look beautiful."

       "Thank you, handsome" you tip toed and placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose.

        "And we're goin out tonight. Dinner. Dancing. Whatever you want. You name it. But were definitely not stayin home".

        "Fliiiip" you grunted in annoyance. "Doesn't a night here sound so much better?" your hand ran along his broad chest, trying your best to seduce your husband into spending a relaxing night at home.

       "Come on, Ketsl. We've been so busy with work; we barely go anywhere anymore. Plus, I wanna take my girl out, show her off" he placed his hand on your waist, beaming down at you. His pleading eyes had you melting under his touch. There was no way you were denying him anything when he did that. "You can get all dressed up, wear that pretty little red dress I like, then after we can…" he trailed off as his lips closed in on your neck, sucking ever so lightly on the sensitive skin, drawing out a series of giggles from you before pulling away.

      "You're an idiot." You mumbled, fighting the grin threatening to form on your lips.

     "But you love me." He brought you in for a quick kiss before letting you go.

      "We're going to be late. Let's go." you rolled your eyes as Flip followed closely behind you.