Why You So Nosy, Fanits?

We're heading into a spate of glorious weather here, and I'd love to get Et Tu XII finished and posted before the next series of squalls. It's three-quarters complete, and if I don't post it before the summer term sucks me into its gullet like a shucked oyster to slosh in the belly of Central Asian History, it could be months before I can bestir myself.

Christ, I hate school.


Dear Internet,

Why does it matter with whom Craig Parker shares his bed? He's not going to be sharing it with you. I'll admit to having fantasies wherein I engage in torrid affairs with Celebrity X, but my fantasies end where real life begins, and my X-rated daydreams don't entitle me to know about my lust object's private life. At all. Because they're never going to know or care who I am. Celebrity X falling for Reclusive Wallflower Y is a Hollywood trope and a fanfiction plot. It's not reality. Thank God. Their blessed ignorance of my existence and concomitant fantasies doesn't mean I can't imagine banging Haldir of Lothlorien like a screen door or tapping Don Flack like a keg or begging Richard Kruspe to use his Rammstein on me. Imagination is free and limitless. It does mean, however, that my relationship with them begins and ends on the screen. The end.

Therefore, Craig Parker's sexuality is none of my--or anyone's--business, and people should stop being so nosy and desperate for "scandal". Would he be any less talented or hot if he were gay? Would it make his Haldir less badass or his Lord Rahl less deliciously evil? He's not defrauding or deceiving you by refusing to disclose his sexuality. He's choosing to have a private life, which should be the right of all individuals, not just lonely, invisible, ugly nobodies.

In short, piss off, you gossiping magpies.