Even Rome Fell

Jongerry burning Leitners together. Jongerry shotgun kisssing. Jongerry research era. Jongerry office romance (feast for the ceaseless watcher if you ask me). Jongerry doomed soulmates. Jongerry right person, right time (their 30 minutes of conversation was perfect, profound, enough). Jongerry following a drag path in the form of each mention in the statements. Jongerry.

Sorry for knowing everything. As if the eye didn’t force me to see. Oh, what is the level of grotesque information are you comfortable with? Should I be your personal guidebook and shut up when you don’t need more information then? Would that make you happy? Should I always be aware how much you want to know and adjust the level according to your need, but not too much because that’s an invasion of your privacy? I’m not comfortable with killing especially knowing that it doesn’t make much of a difference in the end, though. Oh, you want me to kill people because they pissed you off while I’m going through psychological horrors in my head? Thank you for not hitting me this time.

I love how the concept of avatars in the magnus archives is literally: what if anyone can become a demigod as long as they’re evil enough? You know what, hell yeah, finally something I can get behind. I’m so sick of the nepo babies nonsense in other shows.

Every time I think of ending it, I think about Jon the Archivist Sims. Then I pick myself up and live on. Do it for the archivist.

The concept of shipping my blorbo with literally anyone except his canonical boyfriend.