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likealittleheartbeat · 2 years

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Just going through the gay subtext tag as one does, and it’s just amazing to see so many characters and series mentioned that really center on super masculine environments, or, more specifically, homosocial groupings--and by that i mean a singly gendered group to the exclusion of womanhood and femininity. and so even as these blogs are shipping two men together, both characters get to preserve their masculinity as they work in and for the proliferation of their masculine groups--boat crews, armies, sports teams, rock bands.

It’s such a shift from the prominent understandings of gay coding from the past 100 years, where you’d be looking for the “sensitive boys,” lovers of the arts (and those arts they loved would often be threaded through queer history), the bullied and lonely who find that one true friend and maybe an inspirational teacher along the way. It was a pretty Platonic understanding of queerness in the relational aspect for better or worse. And it centered the swishy and effeminate for their marginalization.

The new “gay subtext” draws focus to more masculine characters who tend to exist easily enough in hyper masculine spaces and groups without discomfort. You’ll see comic characters like Bill and Ted loving their bros or militant types like in Master & Commander constructing intricate rituals among a whole hoard of other men. And shows like or Black Sails and Our Flag Means Death are making these kinds of gay relationships narratively explicit, but by situating them within a highly masculine context, even a typical effeminate character like Stede is validated through his participation and upholding of the masculinist exploits of the crew and the patriarchal laws of the sea.

In these iterations, the emotional arcs of characters can hyperfocus on the challenges of deviant sexuality and coming to the conclusion that, actually, its not really disruptive or deviant to these environments. There’s more humorous levity in a lot of these depictions, which I really appreciate. But does the audience’s allowance for that levity come from a stronger sense of security for these characters? A masculinist gay sexuality tightens the knot of patriarchal power in a lot of these depictions, creating repackaged separate gender spheres that exclude women from participating in masculine exploits. Yes, they offer representation of transness, and, in fact, i’ve noticed a lot of trans-masc folk being drawn to these kinds of depictions, but the stories instate a culture in which trans folk have been assimilated into gendered categories that have merely accepted trans people without reducing hierarchical separation.

when the netflix wave of avatar the last airbender fans arrived into the fandom, it was striking who they shipped: a pairing that had been rare in the fandom up to that point. not only the who but the how stood out. these two male characters were loveable as goofs, as clowns, as bros--just guys being guys. this pairing was perfect for fluff and modern au’s. they were devoid of the angst and passion that had previously marked the ships (and the infamous shipping wars lol), because they as a pairing were kind of devoid of the show’s central integrated themes. while together, they could suggest a resistance to empire, their time together in the show and in fan portrayals is marked by tropes of masculine revolution--protecting/saving women, shallow and befuddled emotional communication, and urges toward revolutionary violence. these are not bad things necessarily. the interest in these motifs simply stands out in this wing of the fandom when we compare it to the broader pacifist and feminist center of the show. the willfulness of this audience to focus on characters that provide potential for more traditionally masculine themes is telling when you have actual protagonists, aang and katara, who embody and force the audience’s contention with feminine values and their integration into a larger understanding of power structures, especially colonial power structures.

when i look at this trend of centering homosocial gay relationships more broadly, what i hope is that it’s simply making a pocket for the experiences and values considered masculine to exist peacefully and without shame. everyone has the potential to experience and participate in them, after all, and they can be important. my fear, though, is that it indicates acceptance of a “diversified” patriarchy, in which defined representation of diverse identities is a more important narrative goal than questioning broader hierarchies of power that limit and oppress the characters and force them into definitional boxes, especially definitional boxes that allow them to retain their unearned societal privileges over others. there’s just some level of responsibility that one can take when they choose their brotp’s and create content to still illustrate the limits of homosocial gay representation, to see how little two gay bros do to narratively disrupt much of anything.

#meta

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vampirologist · 1 year

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Ever noticed how a lot of Spuffy and spike fans generally don’t like Angel?

Like, they are always comparing them or trying to put down Angel in order to prop Spike’s character, I never understood where this attitude, this “rivalry” comes from.

I’ve even seen some of it’s fans doing the same with Buffy, they torn down her character to try to make Spike look better and the common factor here is Spike.

Like, I’ve seen this attitude only happen with Spuffy shippers and Spike fans.

There’s also the attitude the fandom has with Xander, he is one of the few characters that I know of where almost the entire fandom unanimously hate him.

yes I have very much seen this issue and have discussed it to an extent on my blog! it's one of the reasons his character and the pairing have been soured for me as it's just EVERYWHERE and then I see characterizations of angel that very much go against what is established in the show(s) because people have their spike blinders on. however I don't think it's entirely one sided- angel fans do the same with spike but it's definitely not as aggressive. spike/spuffy fans are very much the majority so it's more visible. but there definitely is a big woobification of spike that annoys me where people prop him up and blame his flaws on other characters (such as angel... despite spike and angelus only being together for like a decade or two before angel became ensouled? it's obvious he had an influence on spike but 10-20 years out of 110+ years? come on. darla and angelus were together longer than spike had been ALIVE. don't you think maybe she had a greater influence on angelus than angelus did spike? I know that spike was presented as coy and proper as a human whereas angel was troubled and acted out through drinking, violence, and sex which seems a lot like how he is as a vampire. but still darla had a huge influence on angelus yet no one blames her for what angelus became lol she saw someone who was disillusioned with the world and who she could mold into a ruthless vampire and viola. guess what happened)

I think it is understandable that they get compared, after all spike IS a foil to angel. they are both main cast vampires who have relationships with buffy, and they both eventually become ensouled. I think it is natural to want to compare them and I often compare them just because of how many discussions of them are rooted in pitting them against each other. but I really dislike when people treat it as a one to one comparison when the circumstances are DRASTIC. and then it's always presented in spike's favor. I like angel a lot obviously and I do tend to play devil's advocate for him (feel I have to given how much hate he gets) but I also know he has his flaws clearly. and then his flaws are treated like a damnation of his character by anti-angel spike fans whereas spike's flaws are ignored or romanticized. "he's a more humane vampire" but then when he does something bad it's "he's a vampire- it's his nature!" which feels sooo have your cake and eat it too. the two ideas aren't mutually exclusive (take ensouled angel) but it's used based on the context to defend his behavior lol

I like xander (can you tell I like disliked characters?) but he hasn't aged well given his nice guy behavior in earlier seasons, and there's more criticism towards hegemonic masculinity today. how popular is the term toxic masculinity today? there's also the fact he's joss whedon's self insert character which put people off from him because of all the issues with whedon and how he treats others, especially women

#sorry if this shows up in tumblr search. I am not censoring #ask #anon

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takaraphoenix · 3 years

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Ship game!! What about Nico and Will?? It’s pretty popular, but I don’t think I’ve seen you write much of it…

That's an interesting one in that I have vocalized my reasons for disliking it way back when it first became popular but instead of just linking that, it has been years so I think it's time for an updated version.

Firstly: This post is gonna be properly tagged and not crosstagged so if any shipper comes across it and feels the need to bitch about it, just don't; your lack of curating your own tumblr experience is not my problem! ;D

Now, there are three key factors that play into my dislike of this ship: How it was written, what it represents, how the fandom around it acts.

1. It’s rushed and uncomfortable

In BoO, it was incredibly rushed. They had literally five sentences of interactions before they walked into the literal sunset together. Five. It was just entirely born from Riordan's Noah's Ark Complex, where he just can't let people be single. The series was ending and he needed Nico to have an endgame so he rushed into some random romance with zero build-up.

The way their interactions went down was also severely uncomfortable for me. Will was acting so offended by Nico not wanting to go to camp and be friends in an entitled way that he had no right to be, he downright guilt-tripped Nico about how he had wanted to be friends. Nico has been just so severely traumatized at such a young age and his coping mechanism, as unhealthy as it was, was to run away and hide. Will acted like Nico not wanting to form attachments to people who could potentially leave him again was somehow just an Edgy Emo Decision and not a direct reaction to his trauma. His entire approach to Nico was basically all these hippie posts of "Don't have depression!! Just go out into the sun and stop being depressed!", which is already a bad take with non-medical people but he's supposed to be a doctor (and let's not get into the shadiness of him technically being Nico's doctor).

There is also an inherent "I can fix him" angle to this ship and to me, only few ship dynamics are more uncomfortable than that. If you want to fundamentally change a person's behavior and personality, you... don't actually want to be with this person.

Now, here's where my points overlap, because the following parts of their writing that bothers me also stand for what this ship fundamentally represents.

2. Solangelo is a queer ship written by and for straights

I'm a queer woman and as a queer woman, I want queer wish-fulfillment, not what straights want out of queerness. I'm kind of tired of that, I've been sitting through it for enough decades now. That's, of course, not to say that no straight writer can give proper queer representation, but far too often do straight writers - even the most well-meaning ones - project straight desires of queerness into their queer representation.

Let me explain that closer through this ship.

Nico's been in love with Percy for years and I'm going to do my best to not hijack this post with some Percico agenda; that's not what this his about, this isn't some "my ship is better than your ship" ship-war nonsense. It's simply a canonical fact that Nico has had romantic feelings for another character for years.

A character who, in this medium, is heterosexual. And if you're queer, you've been there. In love with your straight best friend. It's a cliche, but it's a cliche for a reason.

We have also all been well-meaningly rejected by said straight friend.

And here's the straight desires for you: The queer person who was in love with a straight person just immediately stops having those feelings and will then as quickly as possible fall in love with the next queer person they meet to be happy and no longer uncomfortably in love with a straight person, because that thought makes the straights uncomfortable.

Queer wish-fulfillment would be for Percy to return those feelings, for the queer character to get his first love, to not be rejected. That thing queer teens always dreamed about for themselves.

Aside from the wish-fulfillment angle, the pacing is another problem. Let me repeat, Nico was in love for years. But a five sentence conversation with Will once causes a crush on Will and we see him physically turn away from Percy and toward Will just immediately to rebound and actually fall out of love with Percy and in love with Will. Anyone who's ever been unlucky in love will attest to just how unrealistic and ridiculous the pacing here is.

It's also straight queerness in another respect; Nico has been the first ever queer character we meet in that world. He loves a straight guy - and to get over that, we introduce the second queer character. Because heaven forbid there are multiple queers to pick from. No, in straight-written queer romances, there is always that one main queer and then they introduce a second one and the two just immediately hit it off and develop a romance like all a queer person needs to form attraction to someone is the confirmation that the other person shares your sexuality.

Also the notable gay guy on gay guy ship here, whereas the more queer-wish-fulfillment option would have also included more nuance to the queer experience, because Percy doesn't have to be heterosexual just because he has only been with girls so far. It's a very old-fashioned - think 90s and early 2000s - kind of straight-written queerness that there are only exactly two homosexuals and that those two homosexuals then pair up.

And, listen, I'm not immune to these outdated straight-written queers entirely, I have many such ships that I grew up with that I am still fond of because they were groundbreaking at that time and they weren't outdated yet back when they happened in said 90s and early 2000s. I am however a grown woman now and just like I have grown, so has queer rep so I am not as easily baited into falling onto my knees in gratitude for canon rep. You have to go with the times. And this ship, by all that is given to us, is just entirely outdated straight-written rep.

Which, I mention earlier that even straight-written rep can be good. If the author tries. Riordan doesn't really try though; he does the bare minimum when he writes any of his rep - and there have been many, many more qualified voices being very vocal about his depiction of people of color and, as a woman, I've been vocal about his depiction of women. I don't want to derail this post with all of that, but I do think that it bears mentioning that Riordan doing rep but only doing a bare minimum and not putting in the necessary work to deepen the representation he wants to give is a repeating pattern that has been pointed out many times by now.

(I’d also like to point out that no, it is not just the ship and not just the listed instances that make it straight-written rep for straights. It’s Nico’s entire queer arc, starting with his forced coming out. A severely traumatizing event that is completely brushed over because the straight author doesn’t understand the impact this has on queer people. Not to mention the framework; Nico’s coming out isn’t Nico’s story, it happens in Jason’s POV, it is given to us through the POV of the straight bystander who gets to be Best Ally by assuring Nico that being gay is okay. This kind of coming out is not a queer wish-fulfillment, it’s a straight wish-fulfillment of getting to be the straight savior, the ally to show the gay the light of acceptance. And, additional to the ridiculous pacing of how fast Nico gets over his love for Percy, Nico also gets over years of internalized homophobia just because of, I don’t know, Jason’s few encouraging words and the fact that Will paid attention to him? For a gay kid who was in the closet all his life, the nonchalant way in which he publicly confessed his crush to Percy at the end made absolutely no sense and was written as basically a joke, finished off with Nico literally high-fiving Percy’s girlfriend despite those two never having seen eye to eye before but this is straight wish-fulfillment so all straights are Super Allies, because that’s the way straights want to see themselves, even though Annabeth has shown before just how jealous she can be and she most definitely wouldn’t go around high-fiving people who confess to her boyfriend. Nothing about Nico’s queer arc in HoO felt natural or queer or satisfying.)

Sure, Solangelo on a surface level is big because it's a canon queer couple in a YA book-series and kudos for that and yay for the kids who get to grow up seeing queers in YA books, but I actually do think that kids growing up with books written in the 2010s shouldn't grow up with 1990s levels of representation, because the 2010s overall are actually at a far more nuanced and better level of representation when it comes to queerness. And I do reserve the right to quit on too straight-written and too outdated queer rep in a landscape where I can get more satisfying representation elsewhere; we don’t live in times anymore where you necessarily have to love every bit of rep because it’s the only one you get.

Now that we've gone through my first two gripes, let's wrap this up with the final point, because it also directly ties into this.

3. The new wave of antis hiding behind this ship

A huge part of the fandom is so busy kissing Riordan's ass solely for giving them queer rep at all they think that both the author and the ship are beyond flawless and that kind of attitude is not good. Just because an author includes rep doesn't make either perfect. Absolutely no one is beyond critique - especially not when said critique comes from the very people the author is representing. And even beyond any "valid" critique on the ship, quite frankly, someone should also be allowed to just not like it, without any reasons given at all.

But there is a certain... protective obsessiveness about this ship that doesn't allow a not liking. Very similar to how PJO bore this mindset around Perc/abeth already. It's okay to have OTPs, even OTPs that you have a blindspot for and just don't want to see any flaws in. It is however not okay to then go around attacking people who don't like the thing and mind their own business.

Solangelo's bred a new generation of antis in this fandom. And, particularly with the fact that this post too receives an "anti" tag, I feel like there needs to be a clarification (because tumblr likes to forget what actually makes an anti). Not liking something doesn't make you an anti, venting in properly tagged posts doesn't either; it's the people who harass others, who seek out the content they dislike to then complain that it even exists and who actively try to make others stop creating for it - those are antis.

And with Solangelo's popularity, there was a high rise in Percico antis, who sought it out, were unnecessarily nasty about it, harrassed creators and tried to enforce some kind of "Solangelo supremacy" that won't allow other ships for the characters.

I've been in fandom long enough to be perfectly aware that not all Solangelo shippers count into this category and that there are completely normal and nice Solangelo shippers, but this is a Venn diagram where the overlap between Solangelo shippers and antis is too large to not widely associate the nasty people with the ship itself. (I've been there myself, shipping the very ship behind which a fandom's antis all hid. The second-hand embarrassment of having these people give the ship a bad name is horrendous and I do feel bad for all the normal Solangelo shippers.)

The more often I encountered these people, who made Percico bad (sometimes in wildly ridiculous manners that bent and deliberately misinterpreted canon) and who in the same breath praised Solangelo high, the more tired I grew of that ship. It's a simple game of association, really. You see that linked to the gross and nasty behavior and you start associating the ship itself with that gross and nasty behavior - and with all the things I said before that already weighed into my dislike of the ship, this just was the final tipping point, really.

And that's it. That sums up why I dislike Solangelo. It was hastily rushed, uncomfortable in its execution, it is outdated rep that very much feels as straight-written as it factually is and it does not feel aimed at me as a queer person but rather at the straight audience and it has gathered a cult following of quite uncomfortable people who on their own would be reason enough to avoid it so you can avoid them.

Send me a ship and I will explain why I do or don't ship it

#Anti Solangelo #PJOverse #Riordan Critical #Shipping #Ship Ask Game #send me asks #it IS both a positive AND negative game #and I gotta admit #it is nice to put these things #into proper words #every once in a while

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fanfickittycat · 3 years

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One of Us

Title: One of Us

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen (anime)

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff

Fic Summary: You return to Tokyo where you are reunited with the man who broke your heart a decade ago

Rating: T

A/N: my first Nanami fic!!! I love him so much. Just a simple one-shot about rekindling your love after being apart with a fluffy ending. Yes, the title is an ABBA reference, no I will not be taking any questions on it at this time. If you'd like to read this on AO3 then you can here otherwise the fic is below the cut. Let me know what you thought!!!

I’m lucky that I came back during the spring, you thought to yourself, as you meandered around campus. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and pink petals danced around your ankles with every step. Even the scent infused itself into the air, carrying a bittersweet undertone to it as you reminisced about your time here as a student. The sound of chalk on the board; the feel of the grass against your cheek as you hit the ground during training; the look on Nanami’s face when he rejected you and this world. It had been spring then too.

“You’re here!” trust Gojo to spoil a melancholy moment. You rolled your eyes playfully, accepting the hair ruffling from your upperclassman with weak jabs back at him.

“Gojo, stop” you laughed “we’re not kids anymore.”

“Says who?” he pulled away, adjusting the black blindfold over his eyes “you still look the same.” He teased, patting your head for emphasis. You still came up a whole head shorter than him and then some.

“You don’t” you retorted “you look old. What are you, like 40?”

“What?! You know I’m not” he whined. He was so easy to wind up sometimes. You half listened to him as he complained to you, citing his skin care routine and the regular comments he got about how youthful he looked before nudging him teasingly. The two of you walked back down the path towards the main building, feeling the nostalgia seep into your bones softly.

“You really haven’t changed” you said with a smirk “still vain as ever.”

“And you’re still as sharp tongued as ever.” He sighed, putting an arm around you “still. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to throw a party.”

“You’re a lightweight, Gojo” you said, remembering the time he had snuck in vodka during the winter of his final year. He had wanted to show off and ended up throwing up after two shots, before he passed out in the same pile of vomit. He had never snuck in alcohol again.

“You’re not, I remember you and Nanami having a drinking contest one time.”

“It wasn’t a drinking contest. We were just having wine and cheese. It was a very civilised affair.”

“You must have done a lot of that kind of thing in Europe.”

“Not really” you shrugged “it’s not really something to do when you’re alone.” You didn’t mean to sound so sad, but it wasn’t easy to hide, especially from a man with Six Eyes. You were glad he didn’t press you on it, instead opting to blabber on about how great his new first year students were, and his unmatched skill as a teacher. Gojo always seemed to walk the line between being insufferable and incredible. Nanami had often winced whenever he heard Gojo start a new tangent, and you would rub his back reassuringly. It became an unspoken gesture between the two of you. When you’d failed at mastering a new cursed technique, Nanami would be there to hand you a tissue for your bloodied nose and rub soothing circles on your back. Maybe that’s why your final moment together was so sad. You’d told him you loved him, and he told you that he wanted nothing to do with sorcery in exchange for a normal, human life. He’d left you crying, and the absence of his palm on your back made you feel colder and more alone than ever.

“…so the official party is at 7 but the real party will start after. Are you listening?”

“Official party at 7. Real party after.” You repeated “I’ll wear something that can suit both.”

You had wanted to ask Gojo if Nanami was going to be there, but you held your tongue instead. You hadn’t heard anything from him after you two had split ways, with him becoming a salary man and you going abroad to conduct research. You already knew that if you asked, you’d be met with disappointment. Still, perhaps it was better this way. You might actually be able to relax tonight and remember what social interaction felt like. You wouldn’t have to worry about what to say if you saw him there, or overthink the black dress you were planning on wearing tonight. You’d heard that even Utahime was going to be there. You owed it to everyone making an effort for you, to be present and gracious.

The nerves were still there of course. You were happy to see the small collection of former classmates and teachers there, and excited to catch up. It was strange to think of how close you all were once and then you’d left and avoided talking to anyone beyond a few words at a time. Now, the bonds between you were a little rusty but still strong. It calmed the butterflies in your stomach to know that everyone still accepted you, though Utahime scolded you for it. Your eyes kept lingering at the door, in anticipation of him entering the room with a curt apology about his lateness but then you’d catch yourself and internally reprimand your actions.

“You’ve always been too tough on yourself” Utahime said, sipping her tea knowingly.

“Sorry” you apologised lamely, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

She huffed at you “stop apologising, it’s not your fault that men are idiots.” She eyed Gojo, who was trying to impersonate Yoshinobu, and sighed deeply. It made you smile.

“Thanks” you wanted to say something more but the lack of social interaction over the many years constricted your words. You didn’t even know what to say, let alone how to physically say it. Utahime didn’t mind however and squeezed your shoulder.

“God, I can’t stand him” she said, pinching the skin between her eyebrows. You turned to see Gojo laughing obnoxiously at something.

“Still single too, I presume” you said.

“You know he could never be tied down and imagine that poor woman” she groaned “it’s best he stays single. Imagine if he procreated.” She shuddered, making you laugh.

Ieri joined the two of you, shaking her head at her co-worker’s antics “I’m glad you’re back” she said to you “being a woman in this line of work is hard enough, and then you have to deal with that.”

You smiled “I’m glad to be back, even if it’s a little hard sometimes.”

“You know” Ieri looked down at her drink that she had spiked “wounds take time to heal and it’s important to cover them, but you also have to take the bandages off at some point and let it breathe.”

“You’re wise as ever Ieri” you said.

“Hmmm I don’t think so” Utahime said, frowning “if she was so ‘wise’ then she’d quit smoking.” It prompted a whole conversation, part jokes, part argument between the two and then Gojo stepped in to see what was happening which led to him being verbally bullied by the two women as you watched on and laughed.

“You’re all being so mean to me considering I planned this party” Gojo said, mock snivelling “and the after party.”

“That’s true” you said, perking Gojo up instantly “thank you for inviting everyone.”

“We’re not done yet” he said, bringing a corner of his blindfold down to wink at you.

The after party was more chaotic than you had envisioned. Despite not drinking anything, Gojo still managed to scream-sing the lyrics to every song into the karaoke microphone, sometimes even trying to elongate certain sounds in an attempt to emulate Mariah Carey. Needless to say, Utahime was so irritated that she agreed to join Ieri outside while she smoked. You wandered over to the bar and pouring a generous amount of wine into your glass, feeling warm and happy for the first time in a long time. Of course, you knew that it was the alcohol primarily, but it had also been so long since you’d had fun. You were going to allow yourself to enjoy it.

“Didn’t you think I was soulful?” Gojo asked, his grin wide and satisfied like the Cheshire cat.

“Very” you said, watching out the corner of his eye as he poured himself a coke triumphantly “I didn’t even know some of those notes existed.”

He shrugged mock casually “sometimes it’s a curse to be so blessed.” You two continued to talk, laughing at the ridiculous things Gojo said as he sat on the bar stool next to you, leaning casually against the bar. He sat up quickly at one point, looking past you with rapt attention.

“What is it, boy?” you jokingly asked and when he didn’t answer quickly enough you turned to look behind you. There, standing cautiously at the door in a jacket and tie was Nanami.

“Finally,” you heard Gojo murmur but when you turned back to confront him, he had disappeared into thin air. You felt afraid to turn, knowing that Nanami had probably seen you. You felt your heart race in your chest. He was here. This wasn’t a dream or your imagination. The wine made your legs feel weak and shaky as you clumsily stood, pressing your hands down your dress to smooth it out. Your palms felt clammy as you did so. Downing the remainder of the wine in your glass was attractive, but you could already feel his presence near you.

“Nanami” you breathed out, swallowing nervously as you looked up at him. You had often thought about what would happen if you met again and you’d played the scenario in so many ways; one where you were cool and calm, another where you cracked a killer one liner; even one where you’d pull him in for a kiss that would ignite the flames of your relationship. Instead, you felt your nerves shoot through your body and you felt like a mess.

“Your hair” you said lamely, reaching a hand up before stopping yourself and letting your fingers curl into your palm in shame “it’s different.”

“Yes” he seemed taken aback by your sudden note on his appearance “I changed it a while ago.”

“It looks nice” you said, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your pathetic comment “it suits you.” This wasn’t a lie. The shorter cut emphasised the sharpness of his cheekbones, which looked lethal in the dimmed lighting. He was taller too, if only by a little, and broader as well. You hadn’t anticipated that he’d look better after all this time. It made it hard to think coherently.

“Thank you” he said, “you look well too.” Disappointment already tinged in your stomach. He was just as strict with his feelings now as ever before. You both stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, wanting to speak and yet not at the same time.

“How’s normal life working out for you?” You asked, hoping your jovial tone would make things less tense.

“Oh. Well, it didn’t” he said, taking a seat on the barstool and pouring himself a glass of wine to join you “I tried to do it, but I couldn’t. Work is shit.”

Your surprised both you and he when you laughed “and what? This is the height of luxury?”

He smiled into his glass “no, it’s shit, as well but at least I’m better at it.” He raised his glass to you to clink “to this sorcery shit.” You smiled too, eagerly charging your glass to meet his. You watched him sip, allowing yourself to really look at him. Your eyes traced over his profile, drinking in the angles of his jawline and the elegant slope of his nose.

“I’m sure Europe was better” he said, making you snap out of your daze “at the very least, the food must have been delicious.”

“Oh, yeah” you said inattentively, thinking about evenings in foreign capitals where you fell asleep over your work with a half empty bowl of ramen next to you.

“It was interesting, and I learned a lot” you said, repeating what you had told everyone “I’m glad I’m home though.” You looked at him to gauge his reaction. His face was impassive as stone as he nodded. Dejected, you swirled the liquid around your glass, unsure of how to proceed.

“You were so adamant about leaving” you found yourself saying, the wine loosening your tongue “I’d never seen you so determined about something before.”

“I thought I knew everything back then” he sighed “I was so sure that I’d turn my back on this and work hard to maintain a normal life with a stable job, and money, and a family to provide for.”

You felt stunned “I didn’t know you wanted a wife and kids.”

He smiled without humour “well, something like that.” You watched wordlessly as he emptied the glass down his throat.

“I guess this line of work makes it hard to have those kinds of things.” You could picture Nanami in your head, in a dark suit and tie as he kissed his wife and child goodbye before going to work. He’d probably be good at it too. Firm but caring as he helped his child with their maths homework or opened a jar for his wife who would cook dinner for him every night. He’d dote on his family too, taking them to the beach and up the mountains or abroad. He’d probably keep a picture of them on his desk at work too. It pained you that he felt he couldn’t have that; let alone that you could never give him that.

He turned to look at you “well that and I knew I couldn’t tie you down like that.”

“Me?” you couldn’t have hidden your shock if you tried.

“You wanted a career” he said plainly “one that involved research into cursed objects and continuing to improve your skills and techniques. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“You didn’t even give me a choice” your throat felt hoarse as you grappled with this new truth “you just made that decision for me.” You stood up, feeling woozy on your tipsy legs but determined all the same to get away. You needed air, and the chance to absorb everything you’d heard. All these years you’d assumed he felt nothing for you, and you’d been so embarrassed and upset that you put yourself in self-exile because of it.

“Would you have gone with me if I asked?” he said, following you up the stairs and out of the basement of the bar. The night air was cold and crisp against your hot body.

“Would you really have given up everything because of me?”

“I did give up everything because of you.” You said, turning to clutch the sleeve of his beige blazer, feeling your heart palpitate as your knuckle brushed the skin of his hand. Tears pricked your eyes and you looked down, feeling the rush of emotions you had kept chained away in the shadows rear its head into the light.

“I’m sorry I realised it all too late” he said, and before you could think he had pulled you into a tight embrace. You fought against him at first, wanting to be angry with him for assuming things on your behalf and making you suffer so miserably for so long, but you couldn’t. You gave in, letting your tears blot onto his rich blue shirt. His tie tickled your cheek as he let you press your face into his chest like you used to. His hand automatically began to take small, gentle laps on your back. He whispered his apologies over and over again, finally pressing a tender kiss on the top of your head.

“Nanami” you mumbled, pulling away so you could look up at him. His eyes were piercing as they regarded you. One of his hands remained on your back, whilst the other came up to cup your cheek fondly.

“I love you” he said quietly, pink appearing in his cheeks as he admitted it to you “and I hope it’s not too late to say it, however I’d understand if you didn’t feel the same. I was awful to you.” He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped when you pressed a finger against his soft lips.

“Kento” you said, tasting the way his name sounded for the first time “I love you too.” He took it as permission to lean down, capturing your lips against his in a kiss that you had been dreaming of since you’d met. He was still cautious as always, not wanting to push you too much, but you couldn’t help but enthusiastically pull him closer, standing on the tips of your toes to be closer to him. You shivered when he opened his mouth to take your bottom lip between his own, sucking on the plump skin as you felt a whisper of wind snake around the two of you, depositing fallen petals on your shoulders like confetti.

#updates #my writing #fanfickittycat #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk one shot #jjk headcanons #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento drabble #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fanfic

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reciprocityfic · 3 years

Text

champagne problems, chapter two

title: champagne problems

fandom: little women

pairing: theodore laurence x amy march

rating: g

summary: amy accepts fred's proposal, and laurie comes home and marries jo. but instead of it being the end of something, it's just the start of something bigger.

(or, how laurie and amy find their way back to each other.)

chapter one: champagne problems

author's note: i'm baaaaack, and so is this story! school is finally out for the semester, so i have the energy to write for fun again. this story (and laurie x amy in general) is the first thing i gravitated back to.

the response to this story has been overwhelming, and i'm flattered so many of you want to take this journey with me. that being said, on to the second chapter! i hope it lives up to your expectations.

right where you left me

“He’s not happy.”

She’s sitting outside with Jo, on a blanket in front of Orchard House, face turned up towards the sun of the pleasantly-warm July afternoon. She’d been so comfortable that she’d been on the verge of falling asleep, so she doesn’t quite hear what her sister says. She hums, eyes still closed.

“Hmm?”

“Teddy. I don’t think...He’s not happy.”

Her eyes snap open at the sound of his name.

She and Laurie haven’t spent time together for months, at least not alone; there are family dinners and outings and holidays, of course, but even then, they barely interact. She keeps her distance from him, always staying out of his reach. It’s what is best for the both of them, their responsibility to both Jo and Fred. It was what they decided to do after they’d parted ways in that grand hall on his wedding night.

Plus, it’s better this way, for the both of them. Easier . Resolve isn’t something she’s ever lacked, but she admits it’s easier to stay away from him if she almost forgets the nuances of him - the shine in his eyes when he’s happy, the purse of his lips and crease between his brows when he’s thinking, the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he throws his head back and laughs. She remembers these things, but they’ve started to go fuzzy in her mind just enough that the pain of not having him has begun to ease. She can ignore it at times.

“Amy…” Jo insists impatiently.

She blinks, not sure how long she’d sat there lost in thought. She hardly wants to discuss Laurie - especially not with Jo - but she can’t think of a good reason not to. So she steadies herself, and forges ahead.

“Not happy? How could that be true? He’s married to you , after all,” she teases, a smile plastered on her face as she reaches over and pinches Jo’s cheek gently.

“Amy, I’m serious,” Jo says lowly, swatting her sister's hand away and pulling her knees up to her chest. She sighs, plucking a blade of grass from the ground and fiddling with it between her fingers.

Amy frowns. Jo looks genuinely concerned, and although her situation with Laurie is complicated, she doesn’t like to see her sister upset. So she sits up properly, crosses her legs in front of her, and promises herself that she will do her best to help.

“What makes you think he’s unhappy?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “He’s been drinking again.”

“Again?” Amy questions, quirking her eyebrow. “Jo, Laurie has always drank.”

“I know that. But sometimes it’s too much. Too often. I’ve never seen him drink like that .”

She’s immediately reminded of Europe, of an inebriated Laurie sprawled across a couch with two women at his side. But she chooses to keep that to herself. Instead, she presses for more information.

“So, he gets drunk sometimes. Most men do,” she tells her sister.

“I know,” Jo concedes. “I know that. And maybe if it was just that. But it’s not.”

She waits for her sister to continue, but she doesn’t.

“Jo, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s just,” Jo begins, slowly again. Then, she huffs, throwing the piece of grass down on their blanket. “He’s always so disagreeable when he drinks!”

Amy pauses at that. She’d always known Laurie to be happy when he was drunk. Carefree.

“Angry?” she asks carefully.

“No, never angry,” Jo clarifies quickly, then chuckles dryly. “Although, sometimes I wish he would get angry. That he would yell at me or throw things, show some emotion, instead of…”

“Instead of?” Amy prompts.

“Instead of seeming vaguely annoyed at everything I do!” Jo exclaims, her words finally beginning to flow. “And then when he’s sober, he just seems completely disinterested. I try to talk to him, to tell him things about New York or what I’m working on, but he constantly gives these polite, bland answers that give me no indication as to how he’s feeling or what he’s thinking. He always seems...distracted. Like he’s preoccupied by something else and only half-paying attention.”

She stops, taking a deep breath. Amy looks her over carefully, and then turns her head, looking across the street towards the Laurence residence. For the first time in a long while, she lets herself imagine Laurie - or tries to, at least. Instead, she draws a blank.

“What has he been up to?” she asks, genuine curiosity creeping into her voice. What does Theodore Laurence do all day in that big house, with only the servants to keep him company most of the time?

“That’s just it!” Jo nearly yells. “I do ask, and all I get are these...trite responses.”

“Like what?”

“He tells me he’s been helping Mr. Laurence with the business most of the time,” she says, and Amy frowns.

“Laurie spending most of the time working with the business? No wonder he’s unhappy,” Amy remarks, almost making herself laugh, but Jo continues like she doesn’t hear her.

“Sometimes he says he’s been fiddling with the piano. He tells me he’s writing an opera?” Jo questions, sounding absolutely perplexed.

“In which he would be the central figure,” Amy answers under her breath almost on reflex, smirking, remembering when he told her the same thing in that garden in Paris.

“Yes!” Jo exclaims, hearing her sister this time, and Amy turns towards her again. “It’s ridiculous! Wait, how did you know about the opera?”

“Oh,” Amy says quietly, and her stomach drops as she remembers the rest of her and Laurie’s conversation that day. She stares down, picking out her own piece of grass to play with. “He...mentioned it in passing once. In Europe.”

“Oh.”

“Do you do anything together?” Amy asks quickly, trying to change the subject. “Go to parties? Plays?”

“We’ve gone to a play here and there.”

“Parties?”

“Ugh. No,” Jo answers, and Amy can practically hear her roll her eyes. “You know I hate those things. All the pretense and small talk.”

“Yes, but Laurie likes them. That’s what marriage is - give and take. He goes to your plays, and you go to his parties.”

“Teddy likes plays,” Jo says thoughtfully.

“You know that’s not my point, Jo,” Amy tells her, looking pointedly at her sister.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Jo asks, sounding frustrated now. “Paint my face and dress up in something I hate so Laurie can go drink someone else’s alcohol and talk to people he barely likes anyways? Besides, I don’t even have a proper dress to wear.”

“You can borrow one of mine. Or Meg’s”

“Amy,” Jo groans.

“Jo,” Amy says back, imitating her tone. “Give and take.”

“So, what? You think if I go to one of his parties, suddenly everything will be better and he’ll be cured of whatever’s plaguing him?”

“No, but - “

“And what do you know about marriage?” Jo continues, cutting Amy off. “You’re not married. You barely see Fred.”

Amy prickles at that, and straightens her spine, her head ticking to the side once.

“I’m sorry,” Jo tells her, realizing her mistake. Amy clears her throat, not looking at her sister.

“Fred is very busy,” Amy says. “I knew that before I agreed to marry him, and you know that, too.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m just trying to help you, Jo. You asked me for my help. If you don’t like what I have to say, that’s your problem. Not mine.”

She begins to get up, but Jo latches onto her arm.

“Amy, please! I said I was sorry. And I am, truly.”

She pauses, but doesn’t sit back down, either. Suddenly, Jo lets go of her, and sighs in defeat.

“I just don’t know what to do.”

Her voice is muffled, and Amy looks at her. Jo’s head is in her hands, her back shaking with her unsteady breaths. Concern for her sister washes over her again, and she sighs, lowering herself to the blanket once again.

“Jo,” she says, reaching over to try to peel Jo’s hands from her face. “Jo.”

When Jo finally looks at her, there are unshed tears in her eyes.

“Oh, Jo,” Amy murmurs, and puts her arm around her sister’s shoulders.

“I feel like I’m failing,” she admits. “I feel like he’s beginning to resent me.”

“He doesn’t resent you, Jo. He loves you,” she reassures her, ignoring the way her heart still breaks in her chest when she says the words. “He’s always loved you. Why would he resent you now?”

“I don’t know. Things were always so easy between us. Ever since the day we met, everything just flowed - conversation, laughter, fun. Love. But now, it’s like everything’s changed. It’s all uncomfortable and awkward. I feel like I don’t know who he is anymore.”

“The two of you were apart for a long time,” Amy tells her. “You need to get to know each other again. Spend time together. Why don’t you take him to New York with you when you go?”

“So he could sit in a hotel all day while I go talk to publishers?” Jo says skeptically.

“At least there’s things for him to do in New York. Why don’t you bring it up to him?”

“No,” Jo answers, dismissing the idea quickly. “He’d hate it. I know he would.”

“How do you know that unless you - “

“Amy,” Jo says sternly, sitting up so she can look at her sister properly. “No.”

“Fine,” Amy relents, holding her hands up in surrender. “I just - you need to find a way to spend more time together.”

Amy looks over at the Laurence house again, a wave of sadness overtaking her. For her sister, yes. But also for Laurie - all alone, cooped up in that grand, empty house.

“He’s probably lonely ,” she murmurs, mostly to herself, but Jo hears her, grabbing her arm and shaking her lightly.

“Yes!” she shouts, and Amy whips her head around to look at her, surprised by the sudden motion and her change in demeanor. “That’s what I was thinking! He’s lonely!”

Jo wipes at her eyes, and they shine with hope now rather than tears.

“Okay,” Amy says cautiously. “And?”

“And I have an idea about that! Okay, so,” Jo begins, crossing her legs under herself and taking Amy’s hand. “You and Teddy were close in Europe, yes?”

Her stomach drops again at the question. She does her best to maintain eye contact with her sister, but she can’t, and gaze darts quickly towards the woods before it finds its way back to Jo.

“I suppose so,” she answers cautiously, with a stiff shrug of her shoulders.

“Yes, you were! In fact, the only time Teddy’s smiled - I mean, truly smiled - in the past month or so, is when I mentioned something about the two of you in Europe.”

Her heart skips a beat at that, and she has a sudden, strong urge to cry. But Jo continues on, her excitement making her oblivious to anything else.

“So I figured that you could start spending time with him.”

Her stomach lurches.

“Oh, Jo,” she says quickly, closing her eyes and praying desperately that the Lord would give her the words to say. “That wasn’t - it wasn’t…”

“It wasn’t what?” Jo asks impatiently.

“It was different in Europe,” she says stupidly, and she curses inwardly for not being able to think of a better explanation. “It wasn’t like it is here.”

She opens her eyes just in time to see Jo roll hers.

“What does that even mean? Amy, come on . Spend some time with him while I’m gone, and then when I’m home, he’ll be happier and the two of us will get on better.”

“I don’t know, Jo…” she hesitates.

“Give me one reason why you can’t at least try to be friends again,” Jo says, crossing her arms in front of her and looking at Amy expectantly.

Because I’m in love with him. Because I don’t know if I can be friends with him. Because I don’t know what will happen. Because I’m afraid .

“I guess...I guess there is none,” she lies, frustrated to no end.

“Exactly!” Jo exclaims.

“But, Jo, I don’t think -

“Please, Amy?” Jo asks desperately, eyes pleading.

She can’t say yes. She can’t . But she doesn’t know how to say no, either.

“I suppose I’ll try,” she mutters, and her face flushes. “But I don’t think - “

Jo doesn’t listen, and instead flings herself at Amy, nearly knocking her over. She embraces her tightly, and Amy’s words die in her throat.

“Thank you, sister,” Jo murmurs earnestly into her hair.

And Amy can’t help but give a small smile at Jo’s enthusiasm. At Jo , always a burning flame, a force of nature.

“Of course,” Amy says sincerely. “Anything, Jo.”

They hug for a moment more, and then Jo hops to her feet.

“Come on! My train doesn’t leave until the evening. Marmee is making supper beforehand, and Meg is coming. I’ll go home and get cleaned up, get Teddy, and be back. See you soon!”

And Amy doesn’t have a chance to answer before Jo is off, walking towards the front path. She stares after her sister.

She wants to help Jo, desperately. She wants her sister’s marriage to succeed. And if that means befriending Laurie, then so be it, she supposes.

“Thank you again, Amy!” Jo shouts over her shoulder as she crosses the road.

Amy plasters a smile on her face, and then glances once more at that grand house. When she’s sure Jo isn’t looking at her anymore, her shoulders fall, and she brings her hands up to cover her face, trying to remember how to breathe properly.

* * *

She heads over to the Laurence house the next morning at ten o’clock sharp, head held high. She’d barely slept the night before, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered - not her heart, not her feelings - except helping her sister.

She walks up the steps to the Laurence residence, stops in front of the entrance, and squares her shoulders.

This wasn’t a friendship, she’d decided. It was a duty . Like taking medicine to cure an ailment. Like men going off to war to protect their homes.

This was her duty, and she promised herself she’d do it with grace and determination.

Taking a steadying breath, she knocks on the door. It takes a moment, but eventually, someone opens the door. A servant. She looks familiar, but she can't place her right away. She used to make a point to learn all of the servants’ names.

But it’s been so long since she’s been here.

“Miss March,” the servant says with a smile, apparently recognizing her as well. Something about that warmed her.

“Hello,” she says, smiling back.

“It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you around.”

“Yes,” she says kindly, resisting the urge to look away, instead holding her head higher. “I’ve been busy since I came back from Europe.”

“Planning a wedding, perhaps?” the servant says, the smiling never leaving her face.

The question throws her, and her face falls before she can stop it.

“Oh, uh, yes,” she answers, forcing herself to grin once more. “Fred and I are very excited.”

She ignores the guilt churning in her gut. She has nothing to be guilty about. She’s here on a mission to help her sister.

“I’m very happy for you, miss,” the servant says, and this time, the smile Amy gives her is genuine.

“Thank you so much,” she answers.

The servant quickly ushers her in, apologizing for keeping her outside as Amy assures her it’s alright. She doesn’t notice the person standing just inside the foyer.

“Amy March? Is that you?”

She turns towards the source of the voice and finds Mr. Laurence looking at her, his eyes bright with surprise and warmth.

“Mr. Laurence,” she answers, walking over to give the old man a hug.

“I know I saw you at dinner last night,” he tells her, “but it feels like it’s been ages.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” she agrees, embracing the man for a moment longer before they separate.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company? What can I help you with?”

“I’m looking for Laurie, in fact,” she says, and she’s proud of herself for how smoothly his name leaves her lips.

“Oh,” Mr. Laurence says, making brief eye contact with the servant over Amy’s shoulder. “He’s here, but I don’t know if he’s feeling alright today. I don’t know if he’s up to having visitors.”

She frowns, worry beginning to grow inside her. Worry for Laurie. It must be bad if even his grandfather is making excuses for him.

“Yes,” Amy begins. “I’ve heard he hasn’t been feeling well lately. Jo told me. She’s the one who sent me, actually. To check on him while she’s gone.”

“Oh. Well, then, by all means,” he says, standing back so she can make her way further inside. He motions towards the back of the house. “He’s in the study, I believe.”

She smiles, at both Mr. Laurence and the servant, and then excuses herself. She can feel their eyes on her as she walks away, and she hopes they don’t see the way she’s beginning to shake.

She turns a corner and then another one, surprised at how well she still knows the house. Finally, the door to the study appears in front of her. She tests the doorknob, and finds it unlocked. She decides to knock anyways. She does, once, and then opens the door.

The room is dark, and she hears a groan from the far end of the room.

“Grandfather, I don’t - “

“Do I look like your grandfather?”

She waits, but gets no response. Sighing heavily, she walks into the room and closes the door behind her, heading towards one of the windows, where the thick curtains are pulled together.

“Of course, it would be a miracle if you could see me with how dark it is in here.”

She opens the curtains, bright morning light bursting into the room. She hears another groan, but ignores it, going to the room’s other windows and opening those curtains as well.

“There,” she says. “That’s better.”

She takes a deep breath, and scrunches up her nose.

“It smells like alcohol in here,” she announces. “Have you been drinking already?”

She waits, again, for an answer. He doesn’t speak, though, and she turns towards him without thinking.

Their gazes lock, and her heart lurches.

He’s too beautiful, she decides immediately. Too beautiful for someone who’s drunk at ten in the morning, whose hair is sticking up in twenty different directions, and whose eyes are squinted into tiny slits, trying to adjust to the sudden light as they stare up at her in some mix of confusion and wonder.

“Well, are you just going to stare at me like a fool, or are you going to say something?” she asks him, already beginning to fidget under his gaze. She looks around the room for a distraction, and spies two empty bottles on the table in the center of the room.

“I can’t believe you’re drunk. It’s ten o’clock .”

“I’m not drunk.”

His voice is heavy and sleepy and gruff. It sends shivers down her spine, and she does her best to ignore them, going over and picking up the bottles.

“Those are from last night,” he mumbles quickly. “What is going on?”

She doesn’t answer, instead examining the bottles in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth glass.

“Amy.”

She closes her eyes, lets the sound of him saying her name permeate her ear drums for one moment before she pushes it away and turns around.

His eyes are wide now, and they don’t leave her face. She drops her gaze to the floor, twists her foot into the wood.

“What’s going on?” he asks again.

“What, I can’t come visit my brother-in-law?”

“Amy,” he says lowly, the seriousness of his inquiry seeping into his voice.

“I’m not here for you,” she says sternly, reminding herself in the process. “I’m here for my sister.”

“I thought we decided it would be best for everyone - your sister included - if we pretended the other didn’t exist.”

She scoffs.

“I never said that.”

“Not in so many words, maybe. But the idea holds.”

“Well, things change,” she tells him. “I’m here to repair your marriage.”

He barks out a laugh and gets up, walking over to where she’s standing. He takes the bottles out of her hands and sets them back on the table, and then brings his hand to her chin, lifting her head up. Still, she doesn’t look at him.

“I don’t think even you, Amy March, can do that.”

She moves from his grasp.

“I can,” she declares boldly. “I will.”

“And what makes you think repairing my marriage is your responsibility?”

“Jo, apparently,” she murmurs. “She sent me, after all.”

“Jo sent you - you - to repair our marriage?”

“I don’t know how else you want me to say it.”

He laughs, throwing his head back. She frowns, and crosses her arms in front of her.

“This isn’t funny, Laurie.”

“I know,” he says, still through a fit of laughter. “I know, I swear. But you have to admit, of all the ironies in all the history of all the world -"

"I don’t have to admit anything,” she tells him, cutting him off. “And I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. It’s not like that anymore. We’re not even friends.”

“I agree,” he says. “Which is why, again, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Jo thinks you’re lonely. She wants me to keep you company when she’s gone,” she explains simply.

“And when was this decided?”

“Yesterday, before she left.”

“Ah,” he sighs. “That’s why you were so distant at dinner.”

Her brow furrows, and she finally looks at him. He’s staring back at her, hands in his pockets, hair still sticking up, still looking a bit confused.

“I’m always distant at dinner,” she says.

“Yes, but there was something different yesterday. You seemed almost...scared.”

“Well, I’m not scared anymore.”

She’s lying, and she gets the sense that he knows she’s lying. But he doesn’t say anything, just hums, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You look terrible,” she lies again. “Did you sleep in your clothes last night?”

“I...dozed in my clothes, yes.”

“What does that mean?” she asks. She looks him over, noticing the bags under his eyes. “You didn’t sleep last night?”

He shrugs, and she rolls her eyes. She goes over to him, taking him by the arm and leading him towards the door to the study.

“Sleep,” she instructs him. “And then clean yourself up. Come over for dinner this evening. And don’t make me come looking for you.”

They stop in the doorway, and he turns towards her. She looks him over, sees that a button on his waistcoat is undone. She reaches out to fix it without thinking, and he grabs her wrist.

“Laurie,” she murmurs. “I’m not -”

But before she can finish, he pulls her towards him, wrapping his arms around her.

And she should pull away. But she tells herself it’s just a hug - a truce, of sorts, to begin their budding friendship - and leans into him, pressing her face into his shoulder.

“You smell,” she tells him, the stench of alcohol strong in her nostrils once again. “Make sure you bathe.”

He laughs, and she can feel the rumble of it in his chest. Oh, how she’s missed him.

“I’m not here for you,” she repeats against his clothes, trying to remind them both.

“I know,” he murmurs, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

He runs his hand over her hair, and she closes her eyes.

a/n: sorry i'm so long-winded buuuut:

- i adore jo. amy is my favorite, obviously, but i absolutely adore jo. and i love jo and amy's dynamic. so while that scene didn't have any laurie in it, i loved writing it all the same.

- that being said, this is a safe space for jo and lovers of jo.

- that also being said, this story is going to get very, very messy, in maybe some ways that might even be surprising, so just....be ready for that.

there you have it! leave comments or kudos if you feel so inclined. i hope to have the next chapter up sometime relatively soon.

as always, thank you so, so much for reading!

xoxo,

rebekah

#amy x laurie #laurie x amy #little women #little women 2019 #amy march #theodore laurence #cprobs

114 notes · View notes

nostalgicatsea · 4 years

Text

Racism in the Marvel fandom as seen through the number of fanworks per M/M ship on AO3

I talked about this on Twitter, but I'm posting it here with tweaks and additions.

A couple of notes about the ship selection process:

I focused on M/M ships here as they're the biggest and most common on AO3 overall and, for the most part, the Marvel fandom

I put aside my personal feelings, so the following selection ranges from my OTP and ships I like to ships I dislike or am squicked by and NOTPs. The big ships and crack/niche ships are ones that have the most popular male characters or I’ve seen come up the most often, but I'm sure the pattern is consistent with more minor characters and subfandoms with fewer works

I focused on ships that exist in the MCU (film side only, no TV), only or in addition to other universes, just to simplify things. The MCU fandom is the biggest, and it gets complicated once you throw in other universes considering the vastness of the Marvel multiverse

I looked at the overall fanwork count for the ships rather than fanworks for that ship in the MCU tag as people tend to miscategorize their works

As of 6/19/20:

AO3 fanworks of big MCU/MCU-based ships:

Steve/Bucky: 50,501

Steve/Tony: 36,638

Loki/Thor: 13,071

Clint/Coulson: 10,940

Loki/Tony: 9,880

Bucky/Tony: 7,504

Spideypool: 7,271

Starker: 6,073

Ironstrange: 4,844

Bruce/Tony: 4,734

Bucky/Clint: 3,841

Stuckony: 2,331

AO3 fanworks of MCU/MCU-based ships with 1 or more POC where the characters interact a few times, have meaningful relationships with each other, or have genuine or crack potential:

Sam/Bucky: 3,023

Steve/Sam: 2,908

Rhodey/Tony: 1,434

Erik/T'Challa: 578

Ned/Peter: 429

Coulson/Fury: 264

M'Baku/T'Challa: 155

Rhodey/Sam: 149

Strange/Wong: 82

Heimdall/Thor: 50

Scott/Jimmy Woo: 36

Scott/Luis: 24

Fury/Pierce: 16 (fandom is also ageist)

The disparity between the two lists is particularly egregious when you consider:

Clint and Coulson had 17 seconds of dialogue and 7 lines with each other and never interacted again after Thor. This is a generous estimate as I included pauses

Loki and Tony haven't interacted since The Avengers

The only time Bucky and Tony as a duo and Steve, Bucky, Tony as a trio interact is in the bunker in Siberia

Spideypool includes a character who isn't even in the MCU

Ironstrange didn't exist or really exist in MCU fanworks before 2018, and Tony and Strange only communicate once in their second movie together, with Strange holding up his finger silently

Bucky and Clint never interact with each other

I’ll be focusing on the Captain America, Avengers, and Iron Man subfandoms first as those are the three biggest in the MCU. Before I start, here's my thread from last year about some of the ships I’ll be mentioning.

Okay. How does Bucky/Tony have 6,070 more fanworks than Rhodey/Tony and 4,481 more than Sam/Bucky and Bucky/Clint have 818 more than Sam/Bucky? How do Loki/Tony and Ironstrange have 8,446 and 3,410 more fanworks than Rhodey/Tony, respectively, and Stuckony almost as many as Steve/Sam?

The gap is especially glaring when you compare Steve/Bucky and Steve/Tony to Steve/Sam, Sam/Bucky, and Rhodey/Tony; however, though it's important to point out that wide gulf, I lose my mind more over the fact that ships with white characters who have never interacted or only exchanged a few lines (Clint/Coulson never even STAND IN THE SAME ROOM, and they're one of the top ships!) have more fanworks than ships with POC who do or have potential.

I will point out that at least with the MCU Spider-Man and Black Panther fandoms, you do see some diversity with their big ships (I’m including some M/F ships here to make a point in the next paragraph). MJ/Peter has 3,518 fanworks, and in addition to the two T’Challa ships above, Nakia/T’Challa has 286, MJ/Shuri 220, Bucky/Shuri 210, and Peter/Shuri 140 (Black Panther is a much smaller fandom, but some ship numbers are higher if you put BP and non-BP characters together, e.g., Tony/T’Challa (405) and Bucky/T’Challa (345).

It's important to note, however, that these two films are significantly more racially diverse than all other MCU films; in fact, they're very much the outliers. These ships and Ned/Peter are also heavy indicators of racism in this fandom. These numbers are very low compared to the big ships, and there are fewer works for these fandoms especially in BP’s case. Additionally, ships with white non-BP characters rank second, third, sixth, and eighth in the fandom (Bucky isn’t a BP character as he is only in the post-credits scene). Nakia/T’Challa is canon but outranked by Tony/T’Challa and Bucky/T’Challa, and all other ships with only BP characters, not listed here as the numbers are much lower other than M’Baku/T’Challa (second-lowest among the listed), are outranked by all the ships with white non-BP characters.

To sum up everything I said above:

white M/M ships are extremely overrepresented by a huge margin, even if they have little to no canonical basis

interracial ships are poorly represented even if the characters have meaningful relationships or potential (and even if they clearly have all the traits that would ensure that they would be a big ship had the character of color been white)

the ships with the least representation by a longggggg mile are ones that involve only POC. Their fanwork count is, aside from Erik/T’Challa (578), in the low 100s and 200s. Countless ships are below the 100 mark.

If you want to make this even more infuriating, here's a random selection of white (or in one case, AI) crack ships and ships that are more niche that I’ve seen to compare to the ships of color above:

Clint/Tony: 1,423

Loki/Steve: 1,251

Clint/Steve: 986

Bucky/Rumlow: 984

Clint/Pietro: 837

Hydrahusbands: 770

Grandmaster/Loki: 633

Steve/Rumlow: 547

Steve/Howard: 457

JARVIS/Tony: 414

And just for the hell of it because Darcy, a minor character who appears in only two movies and last appeared in 2013, shows up all the time in MCU fanworks (17,004 (these include ones where she’s not paired with anyone)) and is probably one of the top three or four little black dresses/fandom bicycles:

Darcy/Steve: 3,013

Darcy/Bucky: 2,640

Darcy/Loki: 1,558

Darcy/Clint: 1,107

Darcy/Steve/Bucky: 676

Darcy/Tony: 326

The Darcy situation is a post for another day (she has more fanworks than all other female characters except ~3 women), but in the context of this post, it’s absurd that nearly all of the non-canonical ships above which feature characters whom Darcy has never interacted with (I don’t even remember if Darcy interacted with Loki) have more fanworks than the listed ships of color.

That said, if you like the aforementioned white M/M ships, even if they have little to no canonical basis, that's okay. Anything goes in fandom. It IS a problem, though, if you have more than one ship, but ALL of them are white M/M ships or, if you like F/F and M/F, those are also all white. If you only create and consume works for a single ship, which a good number of people do (many people only get into a fandom because of an OTP!), it's fine if it's a white M/M ship. Honestly, it’s not that surprising either considering most of the screen time and meaty development is given to white characters because of racism (that's a post for another day). However, it IS a problem if most or all of your other ships across your current and previous fandoms are white—and if the only media you consume is predominantly or all white.

This post is longer than planned, but tl;dr, fandom has a racism problem which is nothing new, and we should all examine the following and see and remedy any implicit biases that we have:

our feelings about different characters and relationships, both platonic and romantic

our decision whether or not to seek or make content with characters of color. This includes content with your white ships that have POC in the work because sometimes every other white character in the MCU show up except them or all of them play bigger roles than the POC despite their relationship with the protagonist(s)

the way we interpret and write/draw those characters. For example, is Sam a yes-man? An unofficial or official therapist for white friends? The bro who cracks jokes and/or gives sage advice but seems to not have any flaws, struggles, or life of his own outside of his white friends? The BFF who thinks his white best friend is being dumb about another white guy and wants them to get their act together already?)

#fandom #marvel fandom #mcu fandom #analysis #ao3 #archive of our own

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gascon-en-exil · 3 years

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Do you have any favorite 3H fics? Do you read Dimidue fic?

In the first six months or so after release I read FE16 fic relatively often, but since then frequent engagement in discourse has soured me on the idea except when I'm in a very particular mood and don't mind diving through the fandom's many, many bad takes and characterizations I can't get behind to find something good. As such I'd have to dig through AO3 to refresh my memory on fics I enjoyed, with almost all of them being rather old at this point.

For Dimidue:

"Luxuries" by doop_doop - post-AM reunion Dimidue bathing

"Errors in Translation" by scatteringmyashes - Duscur worldbuilding that acknowledges and celebrates Dedue's love for Dimitri is possible

A ton of short Dimidue fluff, ex. "Impasse" by BloomTwist and most of mintables's fics, which are all very cute even if each individual fic can sort of blend together after a while.

I had been reading "Learning to Read" by LadyDeme which is post-Duscur genocide pre-relationship Dimidue, but it hasn't been updated in a year and a half so it's likely been abandoned.

There was a fic I remember reading where Dedue moved to Duscur for a while post-AM and it resolved as slowburn Dimidue with Dimitri paying him a visit, but for the life of me I can't find it again. Ditto a piece that went into a bunch of detail on winters in Fhirdiad - I'm pretty sure there were lots of furs and Dimitri giving Dedue a greenhouse in the castle? Oh, well...like I said, it's been years and there's been so much wank to distract me.

Also @theeeveetamer's fics, because while not all of them are to my taste I have to give credit for being so dedicated to various flavors of Dom!Dedue and also for turning their CF bad ending into a recipe for some inventive monsterfucking with mpreg. That takes talent, I have to say.

For Ferdibert:

I can't really count off-the-cuff musical AU ideas because this ship practically generates a new one of those every week, even a VA-created one. Hell, I've come up with ideas for those, and everyone knows I don't really write fic.

"Festering Under Your Skin" by Bohemienne, which I feel like I've recommended before? Bohemienne was (and may still be) an early Ferdibert BNF who popularized several of the ship's common fanon tropes. This fic, for example, may have been the first big non-CF Ferdibert, and - even more unusual - includes Dimidue as a side pairing! I believe it's also one of the first ones to include Hubert having discolored hands (a fanon I can take or leave) and also Bernadetta remaining single and writing harlequin novels loosely based on her friends' horny escapades. I'd recommend a fair number of her other fics as well.

"Acrophobia" by bizarrebird - as entertaining as "Ferdinand goes flying with Hubert on a pegasus, terrified hilarity ensues" can be as a subgenre of Ferdibert fluff, here's a more realistic take on Hubert's fear of heights

"one sentiment enlightens to another" by newamsterdam - jealous!Hubert fluff, with Ferdinand being more shrewd than he lets on because he's not a total himbo

And one more I'm also struggling to find, in which Academy era Hubert spies on Ferdinand and discovers that he's been buying large quantities of women's clothing which leads into an awkwardly romantic scenario for them both. The writing wasn't perfect, but I recall that fic as the first one to key me into the idea of crossdressing/transfem Ferdinand outside the specific context of both of them getting off to Ferdinand dressing like Edelgard when they have sex. That scenario is totally canon-compliant for Ferdibert, but it's surprising how well that can be worked into their dynamic in other ways.

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Ferdibert #Dimidue

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bookofmirth · 3 years

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after rereading the series and finally finishing silver flames ( which i truly enjoyed, even when there were points which felt disappointing and a little incoherent ) i feel like i can finally pinpoint what is so jarring to me regarding this series. It just seems so disjointed, which becomes especially apparent after reading MaF and the immediately reading WaR.

We move from the first two novels of the series, which are coherent and clean, to WaR - which is hoenstly just a mess, something which was so blatant to me on the reread. during this time, it’s clear that sjm made several massive changes to link this book to the future spin offs, and also obviously changes her original plan to pair mor and azriel - which monumentally changes the way that the previous book is read, and the perception of their characters.

Even with FaS - setting up for cassian and nestas story, sjm completely changes direction between this release and silver flames. And all of that lead up with the Illyrian rebellions and cassians not being respected as a bastard, and his mission fighting for Illyrian female rights - amounts to absolutely nothing.

Don’t get me wrong, I really really enjoyed silver flames, and perhaps some of these ideas will crop up in azriels book and therefore won’t be wasted. But it just makes the series feel disjointed and leaves me at least, feeling unfulfilled.

Sjm is such a good author, in ToG the plot was expertly executed and when you reread the series, you can see hints and foreshadowing even back to book one. She knew exactly where she was going almost from the beginning, and each decision and plot point was used to create impact and build up to the ending. I don’t get that with acotar.

There is so so so much build, and almost no pay off - and I really got that sense in acosf, I loved it as a stand alone - but when we look at it through the perspective of the entire series, there were things which grated and a lot of things which I felt were built up to and nothing happened... Tomas, Cassians mother ( was so sure we would learn where she was buried at least ) the Illyrian rebellions and the Illyrians hatred and disrespect towards Cassian, Mor and Nestas relationship, CASSIAN AND MORS RELATIONSHIP ( I understand that the mor situation will be something which is focused upon primarily in azriels book, or hopefully her own, however their relationship involves Cassian as much as them both and I really wish Cassian had actually confronted the part he played in that whole situation - a part he played for 500 (!!!!) years. It’s a role which he was unable to relinquish in ACOWAR, and actively rejects Nesta to act as a buffer multiple times, seeing it as an obligation almost - and then in SF, pays it no attention at all. Feyre and Nestas relationship also isn’t really touched upon, as if that final act healed everything - what about that interrupted conversation in the library, when Nesta was cut off ? Why Nesta always favoured Elain, even Amren and Nesta - we still don’t really know what happened there... argh there’s just so much potential and so much set up, and it just seems forgotten about ? It makes the book seem disjointed and a bit of a let down.

Yesss I totally get what you mean here. ToG is honestly the superior series, and it’s because it has the cohesion that acotar doesn’t. Everything feels like it’s meant to be there, each character, each worldbuilding detail, their histories, everything just comes together in a wonderful way that just wrecked me when EoS came out and then was resolved perfectly in KoA.

Compared to that, acotar feels like sjm is figuring things out along the way and it is seriously driving me nuts. I’ve had multiple conversations with other people in Discords and they’ve said similar things. acotar at this point feels like sjm is just coming up with random ass ideas and throwing them in. No book in the series feels more like that than acowar. And it was that point where we knew that there would be more books, right? So combined with the fact that she pounded that book out and it got rather half-assed editing, you’re probably right that a lot of things were changed in order to set up the other books, even though it didn’t make sense with what she’d written before.

I agree with you re: Mor and Az, and I feel like I’ve been seeing more people say that lately? That there is a feeling that they actually were supposed to be together and she changed her mind? I wrote a bunch of fics for them back in the day and they’ve gotten a bit more attention lately. But once acowar came out I was like, I’m gonna reread, and I’m gonna find all the clues, I’m gonna see where all this build-up was, and.... considering how often people say that sjm is so “good” at foreshadowing, I’m sorry, but not in this series. In ToG, yes, because she had a clear goal at the end! She knew where she was going and she stayed on that path. In acotar, idfk. Anyway my point is that I’ve reread the series a couple of times through since acowar came out and I’m still over here shrugging because up until that point, Mor and Az could be read in completely opposite ways. (Maybe it’s an Azriel thing, given the current discourse, idk.)

I will say, however, that we had clues that there was tension between them and I had noted that Az is quiet troubled and even pre-acomaf, I would not have been surprised by his extra in acosf. But all of that could have been addressed with Mor and Az still being together? We all had plenty of explanations at the time for the tension, and Mor being queer was like 1 of 100 of those explanations.

If we look at Mor’s character through the books we have so far, I still see almost zero signs that she’s queer except for her literally saying “I like women and Rita’s has a lot of women and here’s my gay story”. Other than that, there is like..... nothing that feels organically queer about her!!! And I love her and I want her to be gay af!!!! But I wonder if my forgiveness of how acowar went down was more about my personal reaction than how well the story was actually done.

And the fact that, like you said, there is still no resolution to the fact that Cassian is supposedly a buffer between Mor and Azriel? Like???? We were all sitting here after acowar thinking “okay, well if she’s gay then someone knows. Someone has to know. She can’t just be gay and NO ONE WHO LOVES HER KNOWS.”

Then in comes acosf with a big “fuck you, y’all thought” which just.... to me, it signals that her queerness was an afterthought. It’s still an afterthought because her queerness is limited to Mor and women blushing at her and Mor has her corner of the world in which she can be gay, but that gay never spills out into any other aspect of her life. It’s just conveniently isolated so that it doesn’t touch or affect other characters.

In terms of continuity, acowar was such a huge shifting point in the series that people left in droves. It was a huge mess in the fandom. And then acofas was just fluff with no real point in pushing the story forward - even the Nesta stuff was a sneak peek, it had nothing to do with acofas itself. And now acosf comes in ignoring things she had set up previously, with almost zero nuanced discussion of the Cassian/Azriel/Mor thing, which means she still (?) doesn’t know what’s going on there. And I think that we did get some answers with Nesta’s reflection on her relationship with her mother, but the deal with the Illyrian rebellion was just in the way so let’s nix that, and then let’s focus on Eris (🤮) just because she feels like it even though she’s set up all these other characters whose stories need more. (Much like acowar, this paragraph is a MESS LOL)

And yes I KNOW that the series isn’t over, clearly, but she keeps setting things up and then letting them go nowhere, or making them seem important and then resolving them off-page, or changing character relationships (Mor and Az) but then having the characters involved act exactly the same, as if nothing had changed (by having the “buffer” situation still exist as a real thing).

I did enjoy the book, a lot, it was a fun read. But tbh we have so many arguments and disagreements within the fandom rn because things have been so left open to interpretation that we it’s not even a matter of “oh I saw this slightly differently”, it’s “WHAT book did these people even read???” That’s kinda weird, to me. There is reader response, and then there is what we have now, which is people having absolute opposite reactions to what they think happened in acosf.

#acosf #acosf spoilers #spoilers #sjm critical #ask #acotar #wow you got me started lol #anon

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boltwrites · 4 years

Text

Warm Hands, Warm Heart

Fandom: The Legend of Korra Pairing: Bolin / Reader (feminine firebender) Rating: T Tags: Massage, Pre-relationship

fakelavish requested: first of all, i speak for all of the Bolin Lovers when i say we ✨live✨ for your account and writing, our mans deserves sm, THANK YOU! 🥺 i have a request for when you have the time for our 1# Himbo, something maybe borderline nwsf but really tender for a female reader who’s a firebender and gives really nice massages? 👉👈 like, heated hands w/ massage oils? anyways, our King needs to relax, he’s carrying the whole ass show on his shoulders 😌 just have fun with it, can’t wait for more content!

A/N: this was very fun to write! I decided to make Bolin a pro-bending personal trainer and reader a masseur that works at the arena sometimes! I hope you enjoy!

A/N 2: I saw this post get removed from the tag with my own eyes, so I’m posting again :/ tumblr! why!!!

You stretched, taking a deep breath as you loosened the muscles in your shoulders.

As a massage therapist, you traveled all across the city for different clients. However, your rotations at the pro bending arena were always eventful. Usually you were tasked with relieving factory workers of their pain – Future Industries treated their workers well, enlisting your services to assist with their work. But you also saw your fair share of rich families and hard working professionals, all whom carried stress in different ways.

But the arena was a different beast entirely. The patients you saw there were always stressed, and more than that, sometimes they needed serious physical therapy and extensive healing that their hectic schedule didn’t allow for. Your coworkers at the arena in particular all had their own horror stories – Raye, specifically. She was a water healer you coordinated with often, and whenever you saw her, she looked exhausted.

However, not all your coworkers at the arena were such downers. There was a specific personal trainer who always had a smile on his face, even when he referred patients to you. He would guide them into your workspace with a hand on their shoulder, giving them a hearty pat before telling them how you were the best that Republic City had to offer, and that you’d get them fixed up in no time.

You shook your head, trying not to blush as you thought of Bolin. You knew that catching feelings for a coworker wasn’t the smartest thing in the world, but he was just so charming. Whenever he passed by your small massage room and you weren’t with a client he would poke his head in and ask if you needed anything, sometimes bringing you an extra cup of tea from the concessions stand that he “ordered on accident” for you. He always greeted you with a beaming smile, and you had to admit, his work certainly kept him in shape.

You slapped both of your cheeks, shaking your head. You were here to work! You didn’t have time to be worrying about-

“Hey, Y/n!”

You jumped at the sudden introduction, clutching at your heart as you turned, only to be faced with the object of your desires. Your cheeks flushed, but luckily, you could explain it away through shock.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” Bolin apologized, shuffling his feet as he stood in the doorway. He held a small bag in his hands, still in the loose clothing he wore to train his clients.

“It’s alright, I just wasn’t expecting you,” you assured him, crossing your arms and holding them close to your chest. Bolin only smiled, a small, gentle smile that made your heart skip. You wondered if he knew how handsome he was, especially when he directed all of his attention at one person in particular. He made you feel like the center of the world when he smiled at you like that.

“I just wanted to stop by and give you this,” Bolin placed the bag on the high table near the door, and you picked it up, peeking inside. “Haru – you know, from the concession stand – said he made extra, and I didn’t think I saw you get dinner tonight…”

The bag was filled with at least four dumplings, and you knew they weren’t the cheapest thing at the concessions stand, especially tonight, when there had been a double-header match. It was why you hadn’t gotten dinner – you didn’t feel comfortable spending that much money on yourself. But Bolin had gone out of his way to get you something nice.

You blushed, closing the bag and shaking your head at him in wonder.

“Oh – is that OK? Are you allergic? Aw, I should have known-“

You giggled, and Bolin’s eyes widened at the noise.

“I’m not allergic,” you laughed, covering your mouth with your hand, “I just feel like such a burden – you bring me tea, and dumplings, and water, and I haven’t done anything for you.”

Bolin waved his hands back and forth, denying your insinuation. “Oh, don’t worry about it! I just get worried about you all the way over here, since you’re so far away from all the other stuff. You don’t have to do anything for me, I swear.”

“I know I don’t have to,” you replied, tucking a stand of your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks reddened and you looked downwards. “I want to. What about this – I’ll take your dumplings, which I know weren’t just extra, by the way, if you’ll let me give you a massage.”

When you looked at him again, Bolin was as red as a beet, shaking his head as he wrung his hands.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t – “

“You spend all day training others, lifting weights, and trying to coach pro benders, and you’ve never once asked for my services,” you continued, frowning at him. “You’re probably just as tense as any patient you’ve referred to me – if not more. You need to take care of yourself!”

“I do take care of myself! I floss every day!” Bolin countered, and you had to stifle a laugh. What a dork.

“I’m sure you try your best, Bolin, but we all need some help every now and then. Let me help you,” you offered, gesturing to the massage table.

Bolin swallowed, tugging at the neck of his undershirt, unsure of the whole situation. You wondered if the reason why he had never asked for a massage was because of this – because he was so embarrassed at the thought of you touching him. The concept warmed you as you unpacked a few of the oils you thought he would benefit from, laying a blanket across your table. Bolin still stood in the doorway, pressing the tips of his fingers together.

“Uh, do I have to do that thing where I take all my clothes off and you put a towel over my butt? Because I don’t know if I’m comfortable with butt towel stuff-”

You snorted, shaking your head at him.

“No, don’t worry. I usually don’t ask patients to undress fully unless they need specific work – like a pulled muscle in the thigh,” you explained, rolling your sleeves up. You lit a stick of incense with the tips of your fingers, because the routine of it helped calm you as you worked, even as the thought of touching Bolin sent shivers through you.

“You’ll only need to remove your shirt. Please,” you gestured to the table again, and this time Bolin took a step forwards, undoing the clasps of his outer tunic.

“Once you’re ready, please lay face down on the table,” you instructed, as you turned back to your oils. It was typical procedure for you not to watch your patients as they undressed for you, but you made a conscious effort not to look as Bolin shed his tunic and undershirt. You needed to at least remain professional until he was on the table, then he wouldn’t be able to see your blush as you worked over his body.

You truly did just want him to take some time to unwind for himself. He was always so concerned about the young men and women he trained, so kind to you and the rest of the staff he worked with. He spent so much time thinking of others that you knew he didn’t take care of himself. The other trainers had stopped by your room before, had taken advantage of your service, even if they didn’t refer as many of their trainees to you. But Bolin had never graced your door except to give you food or drink, or refer a patient to you. It was actually a bit concerning, considering the amount of work he did. He was always in the arena, always helping someone, or training – he needed to take a moment to relax. And if you could get your hands on his broad shoulders while you helped him with that, well, that was just a nice bonus for you.

You rifled through your collection of oils before you found one that you thought would be soothing, and picked up the bottle, turning to the table. You took a deep breath before you finally looked up.

Bolin was laying face down on the table, his head snug in the headrest. You had to bite your lip when your eyes grazed over his shoulders and back – you knew he had to be muscular, what with his job, but you had never seen the source of his strength up close.

“Have you ever seen a firebending masseur before?” you asked, trying to start a pleasant conversation. Hopefully it would help Bolin calm down if he realized this was normal, for people to get massages.

“No, I’ve never had any kind of massage before,” he admitted, his voice a little muffled by the headrest. You smiled at that. Then he was in for a treat.

“The benefit of a firebending masseur, is that we can heat our hands,” you continued, rubbing the oil between your palms. “A trained firebender can regulate their own body heat, and that adds an extra layer of healing to our treatments. So, don’t be shocked.”

You took a breath, and placed your hands on Bolin’s shoulders, near his neck. You knew this was where a lot of men carried stress, especially those that did a lot of weight lifting. As you pressed your hands into the muscle there, Bolin gasped at your touch, tensing for a split second before you saw all the nerves seep out of his frame.

“Oh, that’s – that is nice,” he hummed. You grinned at him, working your fingers slow and gentle to loosen the tense muscle there. You were right – he was very tight here, and you would need to spend some time there to help him relax.

“Feels even better than water healing,” Bolin mumbled, wiggling a little as he relaxed into the table. You quirked a brow at him.

“Oh, you’ve been healed before?”

“Yeah,” Bolin groaned as you pressed your thumb into a particularly sensitive area, but continued, his voice only shaking a little bit. “I messed up my shoulder pretty bad in a match once.”

“It’s a completely difference experience when you’re not injured,” you agreed with him, taking a detour to work at his shoulder muscles, digging your fingers into the thick muscle there. He was built like a tank, but when you pressed into the muscle, he purred like a kitten, the tension leaving him in waves.

“Maybe you’re just good with your hands,” Bolin offered in rebuttal, and you were very, very happy that he couldn’t see your face as you pressed your fingers into his back. It was also a good thing that you could regulate your temperature under pressure, or else you were sure you would have burned him on accident.

“That’s very sweet,” you replied instead, your voice soft. He was very sweet, in general. But, at your words, he tensed again, his shoulder blades stiff and pressed closer together.

“I- unless that’s a rude thing to say!” You giggled at him, pinching at the back of his neck in jest. He was such a sweetheart.

“No, it really is sweet,” you assured him. “You’re too nice, Bolin, you know that?”

His skin felt hotter under your fingers as you worked down his back, over his ribs and to his waist. He was so strong – his muscles were firm under your hands, his chest broad and solid. His breath hitched in a few places where he was tense and sore, but other than that, you two settled into a comfortable silence.

It was awkward, in a way, because now you were alone with your thoughts. The only thing within your field of vision was an expanse of smooth skin, and you wondered what you would be able to do if you and Bolin were dating and you were to give him a massage. Would he let you press kisses between his shoulder blades, would he let your hands dip below his waistband?

Your cheeks flushed as your massage reached said waistband, fingers digging in above his hips.

Bolin moaned, his hips twitching at the attention, and you gasped, stilling. You both froze, before Bolin spoke up, trying to explain himself.

“Sorry! I- uh- I’m ticklish!”

The explanation was an obvious lie, and you could tell even if Bolin’s head didn’t thwack back into the headrest with such force. You turned away, doing your best not to laugh.

“It’s alright,” you assured him, chuckling a little. You lowered your voice, almost to a whisper, as you pressed your fingers against his hips again, this time softer, deliberate in a different manner. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself.”

Bolin’s breath hitched, and you bit your lip, paying special attention to the muscles just above his hips. He shivered as you kneaded his sore muscles, and you grinned. Usually you wouldn’t focus so much on such a spot, but you had to admit that teasing Bolin was very fun. He was such a sweet boy – you wished he would stop by more often.

“That should just about do it,” you stated, wiping your hands on a small towel you kept tucked into your waistband. Bolin’s back shone with oil in the low light, and he had all but sunk completely into the table, completely relaxed. He tilted his head to the side to look at you, a little bashful.

“I feel like I should have bought you dinner first,” he admitted, with a dorky laugh. You replied with your own giggle, covering your mouth.

“You did, remember?” you gestured to the dumplings still sitting on the high table, and Bolin shook his head, sitting up, rolling his neck as he adjusted to his loosened muscles.

“No, I mean, like, properly,” he elaborated, scratching the back of his head. You smiled, looking up at him shyly.

“You mean, like a date?” you pressed. You wanted him to ask you out – you wanted to get to know him.

“If you’d want?” he replied, shrugging. You smiled bright at him, nodding.

“I would like that, very much.”

#bolin x reader #bolin x you #lok bolin #bolin #mine

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maglors-anion-gap · 3 years

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Fic Writing Asks

Thanks to @samarqqand for the tag! Sorry for the late-ish reply!

how many works do you have on AO3?

I have 8 fics on AO3, with one WIP that I have been neglecting for Ages (so sorry to the anon who requested it, and to user findrahil for helping me beta in, like, march...), and three Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang fics coming very soon!

what’s your total AO3 word count?

Currently 36,972

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Mostly Tolkien. One sad MCU fic (it's not finished, please ignore it, I started it in a brighter era where I wasn't exhausted by the MCU movie industrial complex)

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

"Why Breaks Thou the Wand" - Gimli/Legolas (qpl) Tam Lin!AU

The MCU fic that I will not be linking to

"Your Mouth is Poison (Your Mouth is Wine)" - Celebrimbor/Sauron, the events leading up to the sacking of Eregion, also known as "how to bottom in the most manipulative and vindictive manner possible"

"There are Roses That Come Without Seeking" - Curufin/Finrod, midwinter masquerade celebration turned hook-up

"Turning Shadows Into Shapes" - Feanor&Fingolfin, brotherly loveloathing and the aftermath of Finwe's death

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Every single one. I don't get a Ton of comments so it's pretty easy for me to do and I talk non-stop so.... it's a natural instinct. I love to see what people have to say abut my work, and I love to let them know I appreciate their commentary

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Angstiest ending is hands down "Where the Spirit Meets the Bones" because it ends with Maedhros yeeting himself toward his doom... In general a very angsty fic because it's all about failed obligations, self hatred, and being a flawed person.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I've never written a crossover, I haven't really found universes that I desperately wanted to smash together. The closest I'll ever get is AU works.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes but not on anything posted on my AO3. The commenter left me something mildly obnoxious, but when I checked out their profile they were a huge bigot. Bidoof's law for general assholery.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Yes. More often than not. Excuse #1: the pandemic is keeping me from being my slutty self and I am projecting. Excuse #2: self-introspection. It's no coincidence that my smut fic is most often either something I find kinky, or an exploration of my identity or something I want to communicate in my life. "Halos Made of Summer, Ribbons Made of Spring" was me exploring my attraction to women (when I still thought I was a woman). A lot of my other stuff was me coming to terms with being transmasc (though I haven't included trans themes in my fics yet - that's gonna change tho).

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! I don't think my stuff gets enough traction for that (rare-pair hell, my beloved). I also don't think I'd notice if themes were lifted from my work. I treat fandom like a soup pot. It would be rude to take the stock wholesale and say it was your own. That said, it's likely that at some point two or more of us are going to come up with similar flavor pairings. If you're inspired by my work, it's good grace to say so. But swapping ideas is pretty par for the course.

have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! But you guys are always welcome to do so! I've been meaning to translate my stuff into Spanish, it's good practice for me and I know that fandom can be pretty English heavy.

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! I would like to at some point, I think the closest I've gotten is like, trsb exchanges.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

Probably Fingon/Maedhros because of my penchant for self-flagellation and bad decision making. It's an old standby pairing for me, and I like its Romance, in the classical sense. Celebrimbor/Sauron is a close second because I like working through how I feel about deception and betrayal and really unhealthy love.

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Um... I don't want to say the WIP that's currently languishing in my drafts. I have Got to finish it because I went out of my way to get people's opinions on it. Um, probably this thing I started for Gimli/Legolas, I don't think it was imaginative enough, I have a hard time being imaginative and it feels derivative. I need to significantly re-tool it.

what are your writing strengths?

Setting up a central theme, and characterization. I like implicit meanings.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue is hard, pacing is hard (it's really hard for me to read, so I always want to pare my stuff down when I should expand on it). Executive function is non-existent so the writing process itself is just. odious (/humorous).

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Ah, like adverbs and epithets, it serves a purpose (to indicate something specific). I think about a) can readers understand this b) is this respectful and does it fit the situation or characterization c) does it add something special d) do I have a good enough grasp of this language. For MCU fic I won't be linking I taught myself some very basic russian to include some russian dialogue because I wanted english readers to be temporarily out of the loop like one of the characters (like, in dramatic irony the readers know something the characters don't - I wanted a situation where the readers didn't know either). Don't go looking for that fic, my russian is embarrassing to me and others.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

The lord of the flies :( I was 13

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably "Halos Made of Summer, Ribbons Made of Spring" for managing to write something long and detailed :)

I’m tagging @galadhremmin @arofili @undercat-overdog @findrahil @dialux (some of you may have already done this, sorry) - this is the moment where I forget every single one of my followers and mutuals... I'm so sorry, if you're reading this please consider yourself tagged and back-tag me with your replies

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percyjacksonfan3 · 3 years

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For the salty asks: numbers one, five, six, and twenty through twenty-three please 😇

I live for the chaos so pls just... go off my dude

Ah Tay, reason #187893467 that I love you is that you indulge me in my rants <3

Salty asks are from this post!

K this got LONG so here's a read more!

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

Honestly even though I don't multi-ship often I DO usually get the appeal behind ships so this is a really short list. This will probably get me some hate but I still to this day can't get behind c/ex@ from the show that will not be named. But then again I do get the appeal of two super attractive women with chemistry and the whole ruler/ girl who makes the ruler change their ways thing. So I guess I get it even if I don't like it?

Also, and this is not to hate on Hinny, but Harry and Ginny from HP are not my cup of tea. I like what fandom has done for them but the actual content we get for them in the books (and movies, but I prefer the books) isn't enough for me to love them. Same with Mal and Alina from S & B/ Grishaverse, they're so bland to me in the books but the show is doing far better with them and actually making Mal ya know. Likeable. Again, I don't ship it, but best friends to lovers is top tier so I get it.

Oh! I also don't really get Dwalin/Ori from The Hobbit, but that is probably in large part because I'm a Dwalin/Nori shipper. Again though, all of the secondary characters' relationships in The Hobbit rely on fans to extrapolate HARD and wear extreme shipper goggles, and ik there's that scene where Dwalin helps Ori out of the river so like.. maybe that's where it's from? I don't hate it or anything but it's always something that's made me go ??? cause I have no idea where the heck it came from.

Apart from that... I can't think of any rn? I feel like I understand where all the PJO ships come from, even if I don't ship them. There are a couple that I don't understand how they can be someone's OTP, just because I find them super boring (no offense to those who ship C@leo or J@siper but I just don't love how Rick handled those relationships). In TSC I think fandom mainly vibes with the same pairings and that's true for most of my book fandoms. With the shows I watch I don't think fans majorly ship anything too out there for me. Maybe I don't interact enough with fandoms to tell. So this is all I got.

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

Oh my god, oh my god, this is a can of worms, my lord. A pairing I'm not so sure about, but characters? Abso-fucking-lutely. I took a break from PJO fandom for exactly that reason and the list of characters is endless honestly, for multiple fandoms.

I won't say fandom ruined Bell@rke for me cause I still ship it, but I definitely lost enthusiasm with how toxic the shows fandom was and then that was made even worse when the show completely destroyed itself with the worst writing and plots ever in the latter seasons.

Also I have a feeling that G@me of Thrones/ @soiaf ruined one for me but I can't remember this very second. Maybe not, and again that's probably cause I don't interact with fandoms en masse, usually just through fic and following a few people I vibe with in each.

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?

Yes, quite a few! I used to dislike Drarry (for obvious reasons I feel) and Romione (as a kid I wanted Hermione to be with Harry and even when I grew out of that I really didn't like she was with Ron) but fandom changed that for sure. And same with Darklina now, I was upset cause I felt like the books really underutilized their relationship and fell short of what could have been a super awesome pairing if better explored, but the show fandom is taking it in so many different ways that I'm starting to really love them despite the reasons I shouldn't.

And I won't say I hated Hayffie in THG, but definitely the only reason I ship them is from reading @ellanainthetardis's fic Have a Drink Sweetheart and then all the others written for them. That portrayal of Hayffie and the characters have become my own headcanons now because I've been reading them for so long and they're so good.

Fandom made me ship Leon and Morgana from Merlin too, though that's very lowkey. I never hated them, I just never thought of them as a pairing until reading fic.

20. What is the purest ship in the fandom?

Percabeth. I don't care which fandom, it's Percabeth. Growing up together, going from enemies to friends to best friends to lovers? The establishment of them being best friends and the way Rick wrote that friendship was so pure, and they are a couple with no internal problems, all external, and you just know they're gonna be together through everything, fighting at each other's side, cause that's the way they are. There's a reason they're my OTP and it's cause they are the most well-established, ride or die couple I can think of. They're just so solid.

21. What are your thoughts on crack ships?

Love em for fandom but personally I very rarely get behind crackships just because I usually need a lot of build up, scenes, good dialogue and chemistry, etc. to ship something, so most of my ships aren't crack ships. The only one I can really think of that I actively root for and ship and would read fic for is Billy/ Owen from 911 Lonestar which is just... something.

Like idk if Barduil from The Hobbit is crack because ik it's quite popular... what makes a ship a crack ship anyway? Lack of canon reference? Is it cause they two characters would be so random together because they barely ever interact? Or because it's SO unrealistic you know for sure it will never happen but want it to anyway? Or is it lack of popularity in fandom? I need someone to define this so I have a better answer :D if it's the second option then I have MANY

I love seeing fandom stuff for crack ships though, cause seriously, it's fiction, ship who you want. If you ship two characters just cause you think they're pretty side by side then that's enough for me. Make all of the fan art and fic you like.

22. Popular character you hate?

Oof. Jason from HOO. And Leo in everything after The Lost Hero. I hated Piper in The Lost Hero and Mark of Athena but like her after those. I don't like any of the book characters from S & B except Nikolai, but I like everyone in the show (except David? Why did they make him so weird? Like he's not even awkward, he's straight up rude imo, but anyway). In @soiaf I don't like Jon Snow, I think he's boring. And I despise Jorah Mormont cause I think he's creepy for having a crush on Dany.

Didn't love Stefan in TVD, too much of a goody-two-shoes. I liked dark Stefan but it felt like a totally different character. Honestly most of the characters I don't like cause they're boring or too by-the-book.

OH! A big one in M@rvel is Captain America. Can't stand him honestly, I like him as a character to have in the story, but I like never agree with him on anything. I like a couple of his one-liners but that's it really. I also don't like Gale in THG, idk if that's controversial. Or Lex@ from the show that will not be named because I think she's manipulative and not good for any of the characters i DO love.

Is Ron popular? I think so. I like fandom Ron but not canon Ron and idk why. I think I'm growing out of it but I read those books when I was like 7 initially so I thought it was awful of Ron to stop being friends with Harry because he was jealous and I never really got over that.

There are so many but I'm gonna stop now.

23. Unpopular character you love?

Again, tons. I love anyone whose got kind of a tortured backstory because it makes them more interesting to me.

I love Movieverse Hawkeye! I think Clint is great and while I wish his deafness was canon in Marvel and I don't love J Remmer, I do love Hawkeye a lot. He was honestly one of the only Marvel characters that felt consistent and in-character throughout the movies.

I like President Snow from THG just cause I think he was a fantastic villain. And Effie and Haymitch aren't unpopular, but they're probably my favourites, again because of the fics mentioned above.

Leon from Merlin!! I don't actually think he's unpopular, but he's like... my fourth favourite character in the show which I know IS considered high for most people.

Sandor Clegane from ASOIAF. Not the show, just the books. His book character is phenomenal and I am so excited for GrrM to finish the goddamn series so I know what happens to him.

The Stolls and Katie Gardner from PJO cause fandom created Tratie and sucked me in at a young age.

Bellatrix Lestrange? Is she unpopular? I don't think so but she's another one I think is a fantastic villain. I'm almost more interested in her than Voldemort tbh.

That's probably it!

Thanks so much for the ask Tay, this was tons of fun! Anyone else who's interested can feel free to fill my inbox!

#taylor tag #ask games #look it's me!#now I'm just thinking of all the ships I hate and want to go off #i won't #but tay maybe you've awakened something in me that you will feel the brunt of later

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thethirdamell · 3 years

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I Yield (Borders Yet To Be - Part 1)

@pinkfadespirit tagged me for WIP Wednesday so here’s what I’ve been working on instead of AO. Thank you for the tag! This is part one of who knows how many. I was thinking of making it a one-shot, but it’s getting a bit long, so I’m still undecided on how to handle it. WIP Wednesday Tags: @mikkeneko @verifiedhawke @arcanefeathers @ushauz @wannakissrobits @degenerate-perturbation @thefluffynug @doctorhawke @nightingalerising @loneliii-aura @faux-fires and anyone who wants to share :) Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins Rating: Explicit Tags: Romance WC: 3246 Main Pairings (M/M): Amell / Loghain

Summary: “The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.”

Sweat. Soaking his hair, his tunic, every inch of his flushed skin. His pulse was thrumming in his ears, so loud he couldn’t hear the harsh grunts he knew spilled from his lips as he took thrust after thrust. Damn him. Damn the Warden. Loghain was exhausted, every muscle trembling as he struggled to keep up with the man’s limitless stamina, his limitless mana, his limitless everything. Amell shoved him hard against the wall, and the sound that escaped him was more gasp than grunt.

Amell didn’t just have him, he dominated him. From the moment they’d started this, he’d been in complete control. Loghain couldn’t move, could barely breathe without the man’s allowance. There was so much strength in him - Loghain couldn’t call on a comparison. Not since Maric died, but Maric had never taken charge of him like this - had never ruined him like this. Amell grabbed him and turned him around, only to throw him on the floor.

Loghain hit his knees, and stayed there, breathing hard. This was what he’d asked for - what he’d wanted - and now that he finally had it - there was nothing left but to surrender to it. Amell advanced on him, but there was nothing hurried in his stride. Like he knew Loghain would stay there, exactly where he’d left him, exactly where he wanted him. Amell had taken everything from him, and there was nothing left now but his dignity, but somehow Loghain knew Amell would take that too.

“I yield,” Loghain said, letting his sword fall from his hand.

Amell stopped. Loghain hadn’t expected him to stop. He expected to meet his end at the Warden’s sword, thrust through his heart before the whole of Ferelden. Beaten. Bested. Utterly destroyed at the hands of the man he’d spent the past year fighting with more fervor than the Blight. Amell unlatched his helmet with his shield arm, and let it clatter to the floor of the throne room.

Dragonscale echoed on the stone in the utter stillness of the Landsmeet. Amell still held his sword, and could still drive it through him. Loghain still expected him to. Amell’s eyes swept over him, a bloody shade of russet that was difficult to meet for how they seemed to see through him. He wasn’t the Regent, or the Teyrn, or the Hero of Riverdane to the Warden. He was just Loghain - and Loghain had lost. He knelt, chest heaving, one hand to the floor and the other to his knee to keep him steady, and prayed Anora would look away.

“... I accept your surrender,” Amell said.

Anora wept. Alistair raged. The Landsmeet gasped, but no one was more shocked than Loghain.

Loghain had underestimated him. He’d thought Amell like Cailan: a child wanting to play at war. He’d never been more wrong about a person. Amell unified the country where he failed, arranging his daughter’s wedding to Maric’s bastard, and winning the allegiance of the bannorn, the elves, the dwarves, the mages, and now somehow, Loghain as well.

Amell wanted him for the Grey Wardens, or perhaps simply wanted his death behind closed doors. Loghain knew enough to know the Joining was often fatal, and far less glorious than a public beheading. It seemed a fitting punishment, all things considered. Loghain respected the man for it, though Maric’s bastard disagreed.

Alistair hadn’t contained his anger to the Landsmeet. Loghain and half the palace overheard their argument when they returned. Alistair locked himself in his room, which just left Riordan and Amell to oversee his Joining. Amell sat on a table, his gloves and a selection of vials laid out beside him, reading over a tome embossed with griffon wings.

He looked no less commanding outside of battle. He had an impressively strong nose and well-defined jaw, but there was something in his eyes. Blood red, shadowed by a strong brow and further accented by high cheekbones. He cut a leaner figure in Warden leathers than he did in dragonscale, and wore the dark blues almost regally, posture strong, raven hair braided back behind one ear.

It seemed only fitting to stare. Loghain should get the measure of the man that had spared him, but Amell was hard to read. There was a strategist in there, alongside a mage, despite Amell’s reliance on sword and shield. Strange Amell hadn’t used his magic in their duel. Or perhaps smart. Perhaps it had all been for show, and Amell could have killed him with a wave of his hand, but wanted to allow him some semblance of dignity before the Landsmeet.

A strong leader couldn’t have weak allies, after all. Loghain had never thought of himself as weak before, but he knew when he’d been bested. Amell was the better soldier. The better leader. The better man. He was competent, but that competence wasn’t terribly comforting if he was just now learning the ritual Loghain was to undergo.

“Am I to understand you’ve never done this before?” Loghain guessed.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Amell said.

“Quiet,” Riordan murmured. “The Joining is complex. He needs to focus.”

“You could at least get me when you're ready,” Loghain muttered, pacing impatiently. The less time he had to think this over, the better. The thought of leaving Anora alone didn’t sit well with him. She was formidable, strong enough to endure without him, but the memory of her tears of relief at the Landsmeet haunted him. He didn't want her shedding any more, and prayed it was mercy, not malice, that had stayed Amell’s hand.

“Trust me,” Amell said without looking up from the tome.

“I don’t see I have a choice,” Loghain said.

In time, Amell set his book aside and cast his spell, blood and lyrium weaving together in the silver joining chalice. It smelled like death, a scent so sweet it was noxious, and Loghain didn’t doubt he’d meet his end at it.

Riordan retrieved the chalice. The old Orlesian still bore the scars from his imprisonment at Howe’s estate, and there was nothing but practicality in his voice when he spoke. “You are called upon to submit yourself to the Taint for the greater good. From this moment forth you are a Grey Warden.”

“I understand,” Loghain reached to take it from him when Amell stopped him. Amell's hand clasped over his own on the chalice, and felt pleasantly warm contrasted with the cold silver. It sent an involuntary shiver up his spine, and made him acutely aware it had been years since anyone had touched him.

“Wait,” Amell said.

“Change your mind?” Loghain forced a chuckle. “Should we get the guillotine?”

“Join us, brother,” Amell said, his hand still resting atop his own, and it wasn’t just warm, it was soft, his grip firm and steady through the oath. “Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you.”

“My sacrifice?” Loghain fought back the urge to roll his eyes and wrench away. His pride wasn’t worth the loss of warmth, the loss of contact, the loss of compassion. Amell’s touch was like to be the last he'd ever know.

… strange that didn't seem so terrible.

“Yes,” Amell said.

“My death, you mean," Loghain cleared his throat.

“Death is just death,” Amell said. “If you die, I won't waste it.”

“See that you don’t,” Loghain drank.

Loghain lived, and that was all he could say of the matter. He was stripped of his lands and titles following his defeat, and felt smaller for it. In a strange way, he felt better for it. It was out of his hands now. His successes. His failures. They were on Amell, and Amell seemed to shoulder them well. Amell spent a great deal of time with Anora, Alistair, and Eamon, offering his advice on the state of the bannorn before he left for his fortress at Soldier’s Peak.

Loghain joined him, and all his companions. They hated him down to the last man, but Amell didn’t, or if he did, he didn’t make it obvious. He spoke with him, and ate with him, and acknowledged him the way it seemed he did the rest of his companions. The only distinction seemed to be that Amell watched him with a… unique intensity. An intensity Loghain only noticed because he watched Amell the same way. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, and honestly couldn’t say which of them had started it.

They took the North Road from Denerim towards Soldier’s Peak, and spent the night at a small town inn, where it seemed Loghain should speak with him. Set expectations for whatever there was between them. He knocked on the door to Amell’s room, one hard thump of his fist, and won a polite, "Enter."

Loghain let himself inside. The room, like all the rooms at the inn, was modest. An armchair and a couch set before a low table, where Amell sat with a selection of books and maps, his mabari at his feet. There was also a basin for bathing and a bed, both big enough for two, but Amell was alone.

That seemed strange, for a man like him. Maric had never been alone, not even when he should have been, women from all walks of life walking their way right into his bed. Rowan had suffered for it… but Loghain didn't want to think about Maric or Rowan. He wanted to think about Amell.

There was a lot to think about there. Amell besting him. Amell sparing him. Amell staring at him. His hair, free of its braid, curved to frame one side of his face and the wholly unwarranted raise of his eyebrow. Like Amell was intrigued by his visit, but there was nothing intriguing about him. He was a bitter old man who’d lost his country, his crown, and his companions all in one fell swoop.

… It seemed he should resent Amell more for that.

"Loghain," Amell said, closing the book he'd been reading. "Did you want to talk?"

Sitting seemed too presumptuous, so Loghain leaned on the armchair while he spoke, "What else could I want?"

"You tell me," Amell countered, with a strange lilt to his voice.

"I'm not here for a rematch," Loghain assured him. "Don't worry."

"I wasn't."

… Cocky.

“I passed your test,” Loghain noted, fighting back a smile and wondering why his face was so determined to settle on the expression. “Fate has a twisted sense of humor, it seems.”

“It seems,” Amell agreed.

“I suppose you think I'm some sort of monster,” Loghain continued. “More so since I survived your ritual: you keep striking at me, and I just refuse to die decently.”

“I may have to resort to magic next,” Amell said playfully.

“Oh?” Loghain raised a bemused eyebrow, his smile finally escaping. “What was all that nonsense with darkspawn blood and lyrium, then? A puppet show?"

"Something like that," Amell said mysteriously.

"It seems to me that magic has already failed," Loghain joked, though he wasn't naive enough to think the extent of Amell’s magic could fit in one little cup. "I’d recommend a sharp knife in the kidneys next time. Less impressive, but it gets the job done.”

Amell hummed thoughtfully, like he was considering it, before shaking his head. “The plan loses something when you’re the one suggesting it.”

“I suppose it does lack the element of surprise,” Loghain allotted.

"Sit down," Amell waved a hand at the armchair.

It was more suggestion than command, but it still disarmed him. Loghain couldn't remember the last time anyone had told him to do anything. More so, he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually listened. He circled the armchair and sat. Amell smirked, like he was pleased with him for following the order, however insignificant. His eyes wandered over him, like he was sizing him, but Loghain couldn’t imagine why. Amell had already beaten him.

What other reason could the man have to stare? Loghain straightened his spine and refused to fidget for it. He knew where he stood with the Warden and he wouldn’t be intimidated by it, but Amell’s stare didn’t seem threatening. It just seemed interested. Silence stretched, and it took Loghain longer than he cared to admit to realize he was waiting for permission to speak.

“Well,” Loghain cleared his throat. “What shall we do to settle things between us, then?”

"Things?" Amell raised an eyebrow.

“Is that supposed to be coy?” Loghain guessed.

“Do you want it to be coy?” Amell asked.

… Was Amell flirting with him? He couldn’t possibly be flirting with him. He was old enough to be the man’s father. His grandfather, if he'd been more adventurous in his youth, but he hadn't. He’d loved Rowan, and then Celia - though not half as well as she deserved - and then no one. Amell had no reason to flirt with him. Loghain had spent the better part of a year trying to kill him, and there was nothing flirtatious in that.

Loghain wasn’t a flirtatious person. He’d barely flirted with his own wife, and he’d never flirted with Maric - no matter his feelings for the man. He couldn’t begin to imagine the scandal that would have come from that, even if Maric had shown any preference for men. His King? It would have been as bad as… whatever this was. Amell was his Commander. Amell was half his age. Amell was waiting for an answer, smirking a little more for every second he delayed.

“What I want is for this to be over,” Loghain said before he embarrassed himself further. “You’ve won, Warden.”

“Amell,” Amell corrected him.

“... Amell, then,” Loghain said.

“There’s nothing to settle,” Amell assured him. “I expect us to work together.”

“Is that punishment meant for me or for you?” Loghain wondered.

“Did you want to be punished?” Amell ran his thumb over the tips of his fingers, a flicker of electricity playing over his fingers, but the magic seemed more static than lightning, his expression more thoughtful than threatening.

There was too much to think about there. Amell was absolutely flirting with him. Maric had told stories of the nights he’d spent with mages and their magic, and they assaulted him mercilessly the longer Amell held the spell. The short exchange felt like their duel all over again - Amell wearing down his defenses, and Loghain helpless against him.

It shouldn’t have been so appealing. It shouldn’t have been appealing at all. Loghain didn’t know anything about the man beyond his skill with a blade, but something in the roll of his fingers and the quirk of his lips seemed to suggest it was… quite a proficiency.

“I imagine you must have one in mind,” Loghain mumbled despite himself, wondering after the sensations. Pleasant, no doubt. Something that shivered across the skin. Something that wasn’t serious, and was clearly just meant to tease or torment him.

“A few,” Amell grinned.

“So just like that, we’re allies?” Loghain asked - refusing to read into that grin, that magic, those hands. Amell was just making fun of him, adding insult to the injury of his defeat with this whole exchange. “I can’t imagine it’s so simple. I don’t know what concessions you want from me. I expect my word will not satisfy you.”

“Did you want to satisfy me?” Amell countered.

“Mockery, then,” Loghain deduced. There was no other explanation. He stood, but Amell stood with him, a fast hand catching his wrist when he turned to go. It was the same hand as before - the same warmth, the same firm grip, and Maker - the magic. Amell cut off the spell with the contact, but he wasn’t quite fast enough.

Static rippled up his arm, sending a full body shiver through him. Amell had to have felt him tremble. Had to have known he was making a fool of him. They were enemies at worst, reluctant allies at best, and the thought that Amell might be after more than that was ridiculous enough as to be insulting.

“What mockery?” Amell asked.

“This,” Loghain gestured vaguely between them. “I’ve seen enough Satinalias to know when I'm being made the fool.”

“Fortune favors the foolish,” Amell said - and Maker preserve him but there was something captivating in him. Not just his eyes, but his scent, clouding his head for their closeness. He was something like blood and magic, and it spoke of the same power that had bested him at the Landsmeet and was besting him now.

“Fortune favors the brave,” Loghain corrected the proverb, feeling himself begin to sweat the longer Amell stared at him with those damn eyes, like fire, heating up his skin with all their impossible promises. “I am no fool and I will not be made one. You may have won, but I doubt it was done with sword alone. If not for your magic, I could have taken you.”

“Is that what you want?” Amell asked.

“What?”

“You want to take me?” Amell released his wrist, and caught his collar instead. His fingers barely skirted the fabric, but he might have wrenched for the effect it had on him. Loghain couldn’t focus on anything but the way his lips moved when he spoke, and the thought that they might have been softer than his hands. “You want to take my magic?”

“Damn you, Warden,” Loghain hated himself for whispering, but he couldn’t raise his voice any more than he could raise his head, tilted just slightly so the other man could reach his lips if he wanted. “What do you want from me?”

“You tell me,” Amell countered - his eyes were fixed on his lips, and the warmth of his breath spilled over them with every word. “What do you want?”

“I want you to let go of me,” Loghain lied.

Amell let go, and Loghain regretted it more than all the mistakes he’d made of late. The rest of his mistakes he’d made for Ferelden, but this one-... this was a mistake he could make for himself. It almost seemed worth the risk that Amell might be mocking him, might be too young for him, might be too much for him. Loghain cleared his throat, and took an unsteady step back. “Thank you. Goodnight, Warden.”

“Amell,” Amell corrected him.

“Amell,” Loghain repeated, and beat a hastier retreat from Amell’s room than he had from Ostagar. He took a cold bath in his own room, but he was so flushed from the exchange his skin may as well have warmed the water. This-... this was the real defeat. The real shame. Not at the Landsmeet, but here, in some backwater inn on the North Road, where he met his end not at Amell’s sword but his smirk.

Take him. Loghain couldn’t take him. One look, one touch, and he was ready to yield. The memory wouldn’t leave him, not even when he took a hand to his aching cock and beat a frantic pace against his racing heart. He hated the touch of his own hand - weathered with age and nothing like the supple youth he felt in Amell - but his release strengthened his resolve. If he didn’t even want the touch of his own hand, neither would anyone else.

#loghain #loghain mac tir #dragon age #amell #fanfiction #This is technically still Accursed Ones #Maybe an Accursed Ones AU #We're just trying to figure out how we have to retcon to make this canon #Come join the chaos in the Discord #Where the rules are made up and the points don't matter #wip wednesday #wip

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lilydalexf · 3 years

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Sophia Jirafe

Seven of Sophia Jirafe’s fics are at Gossamer, but more of her X-Files stories are at AO3 (as sophiahelix). I’ve recced some of my favorites of her stories here before, including Stones and Bones. She was active in the fandom during the show’s run and has never strayed far from fandom in general. She co-founded Glass Onion, a great multi-fandom mailing list that now has nearly 1,000 fics from 100 fandoms at AO3. Big thanks to Sophia Jirafe for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

It did initially, but so many old shows are on streaming now and getting discovered by new people, it makes sense.

I did get a comment from someone who said my first story under this name, posted in early 2000 when I was a college freshman, was older than her by a couple of months, and THAT took me aback.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

It was my first fandom, discovered when I was 17 and searching for info about the show on the school library computer, and it really shaped my whole life! I met a lot of people I still know today (mostly in non-fannish venues like FB, though I do still have some connections in fandom), and learned a lot about writing and just life generally, since I was younger than most of fandom at the time.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

I started off on a tiny forum at a website called Squirrel’s Nest, but I kept seeing people thanking Scullyfic in fic headers and eventually I was able to join the mailing list (which was capped to 500 members). Scullyfic was everything to me — I made friends, betas, discussed the show, learned about all kinds of things on Off-Topic Fridays, etc. A lot of those friends, I would email with or more often chat on AIM (individual or these sprawling group chats that would go on all day), and then at the end of 2001 we started migrating to Livejournal. I was getting into Buffy more by then, but it was still mostly the same crowd of people I knew from Scullyfic.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I feel like it started me on a whole life path really — finding that my deep obsession with fiction could be channeled like that and shared with other people, as well as deepening my writing. Online fandom has been a major part of my social life for over 20 years now, and I love the mix of getting excited about things with friends and also the creative outlet.

My corner of X-Files fandom in particular was just very calm and enjoyable for the most part, full of older professional women who were happy to be friends and give me advice about all kinds of things, and it really set the bar for me with my online interactions. Now I’m almost 40 and trying to be that person for my younger friends, as well as having no patience for toxicity and in-fighting in my fandom spaces.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

A combination of the creepy conspiracy angle and just adoring Scully. I remember how mysterious and fascinating the show seemed when I discovered it right before S5, and there was no way to find out more except to keep watching and hoping they explained. Scully was so smart and tough and beautiful and interesting, and as a teen I was just captivated by her (and the UST, though I didn’t care about Mulder as much).

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I ran across it a couple times early on but felt embarrassed by the concept, but then I read the first in Karen Rasch’s Words series and suddenly it clicked for me. After a while I started daydreaming my own conversations between them, very similar to what happens to me now when I’m getting into a new pairing, so after reading tons of recommended fic by big authors, I started writing my own (the 3-4 stories I posted in high school are all wiped from the internet now, though).

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Good memories, though because it was my senior year of high school and college, I know a lot of it is just tied to that time in my life, and also being in my very first fandom. I will rewatch episodes from time to time, but I basically never revisit former fandoms because they’re kind of like exes, even if I finished on a good note. I also think my taste in fic has changed (and there isn’t the same novelty of “characters I like getting together omg!”)

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

So many! None of them had quite the same combination of excellent central architecture (especially pre-AO3) and a really high level of discussion and friendliness without being enormous, but I’ve loved them all in their own ways. I’ve done fandom on LJ/DW, Tumblr, Discord, and now on Twitter, and I think I miss the mailing list days the most. You didn’t have to repeat yourself so much in multiple conversations, you weren’t character limited, and the discussion was all in one place, with personal stuff more confined to your side conversations. Discord is a little like that, but it moves too fast and there’s too much noise for my taste.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Heh, after X-Files I went through a whole phase of faves in the Scully vein — Buffy, Aeryn Sun, Kara Thrace, etc. Like many people I’ve shifted primarily into m/m in the last decade (Sherlock, YOI, and recently The Untamed have been my major fictional fandoms, along with a lot of sports RPF), but for non-fannish shows I’m always looking for awesome new female characters, like Elizabeth on the Americans, Peggy on Mad Men, Nadja on What We Do in the Shadows, etc. And I do LOVE Killing Eve and have written a little f/f over there.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I’ll rewatch favorite episodes occasionally, and I keep thinking about a full rewatch but it takes so much time! I never saw the second movie, and I didn’t finish the first of the new seasons because I was hating it, so it’s a little hard for me to think fannishly about them when I disliked basically everything after “Je Souhaite” so much (as far as I’m concerned the show ends there).

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

X-Files no, but yeah I’m still very active in fandoms.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I lost all my saved fic several computers ago, but I recall loving “Blue Christmas” by Plausible Deniability and “Diamonds and Rust” by MustangSally (obviously everything she wrote was great).

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Looking at my X-Files fic, I can’t believe how short it is and how comparatively little of it there is (I have lost track of a few ficlets). It felt like such a big deal to finish anything back then! I think my favorite remains Alphabetum, which involved a tricky structure and 5 elements given by people as part of the Scullyfic Improv challenge, where you had a week to write a story around those elements.

My favorite of my recent fic in fictional fandoms is probably the GoT/YOI crossover novel I wrote a couple years ago, for a completely opposite experience to this (and proof you can grow as a writer with a lot of effort!)

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

It’s honestly hard to imagine going back (like I said, I usually don’t), but I guess I could get inspired by something.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I certainly still write, and I do have to give credit to XF fandom and Scullyfic in particular for giving me the start I got, where I really wanted to be writing good fiction. The few things I wrote in high school were just me jamming out romantic cliches, but the people I was lucky to know in XF fandom showed me that “just” fanfic can still aspire to be high quality. I am a much, much better and more disciplined writer than I was back then, but I might never have started on this path without fandom friends encouraging me.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Usually just daydreaming about emotional dynamics between characters/people, but sometimes something specific in canon or real life (I write a lot of RPF) gets me going, or maybe something I read.

What's the story behind your pen name?

When I wrote for X-Files, I picked “Sophia Jirafe” combining my favorite first name with a fancy spelling for my favorite animal (I was 18! Don’t judge!) Over on Livejournal, my friend Jintian and I initially shared an account with the same name as our website, double_helix, and when she got her own account I changed to sophia_helix, which is now sophiahelix just about everywhere. A little clunky, but I like the continuity (and I do run across old friends who remember the name).

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

The friends I’ve known for a very long time know about it, but we have never talked about it in depth. My husband, who I met not long after getting into fandom, also knows about it, and he’s encouraging and also a writer so we talk all the time. I told my mom in college and she was pretty dismissive, so we haven’t talked about it since (but my younger sister knows and is cool about it).

When I was younger, it was something I shared readily (I bonded with a new friend in law school I saw looking at LJ), but now I don’t really bring it up with new acquaintances.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I just made a Carrd the other day with all my various fannish addresses (Twitter, locked fannish Twitter, AO3, Tumblr)

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Just that it really was a high quality fandom — so much excellent long casefic, so many cool down to earth people, just generally a great launching place for a young fan. The friendships I made with older people were really important to me, and it makes me sad to see a lot of younger people now getting upset about the idea of anyone over a certain age being in their fandom spaces. I hope someday fandom can get back to appreciating that people of all ages can be the fandom type, and that everyone brings something different to the community.

(Posted by Lilydale on December 1, 2020)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #sophia jirafe

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wouldpollyapprove · 4 years

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Headcanon: Being Pregnant W/ Finn & Isaiah’s Baby

Request: hi!! i adored ur labour hcs and poly relationship with finn and isaiah hcs,, i thought why not put the two together?? like the reader ends up pregnant with one of the boys' child and even though they don't know whose child it is, finn and isaiah are super supportive and they help the reader when she goes into labour?? im sorry if it sounds confusing but i love ur writing and i knew if anyone could pull it off, it'd be you 💖💖💖💖

Requested by Anonymous

Finn Shelby x Reader x Isaiah Jesus

Warnings: Pregnancy, poly relationship

A/N: I’m surprised this is as long as it is because, like I said with the Isaiah Jesus one of these, I’ve kinda run out of ideas. These have to be realistic for both the time period and in general. If I end up doing any more of these, please give me ideas. I like all the ones I’ve done thus far and I don’t want to repeat any of them. That would be boring. So, if you have any ideas for other headcanons like this, please let me know.

Masterlist

After missing your period, you already knew you wouldn’t see it for a long while.

You knew you were pregnant. You didn’t need a doctor or Finn’s aunt to confirm it for you. It was something you just knew.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t go to the doctor or have Polly gasp over a cup of tea.

When your suspicions were confirmed, you couldn’t help but cry. What were you to do?

It didn’t matter if you wanted the child or not, it mattered if the child’s father wanted it. And it didn’t help that you were unsure of who that would be.

You have been in a relationship with Finn and Isaiah for some time, but the three of you had never discussed having children.

But as you never practiced safe sex, it was a conversation that should have been had.

For a while you didn’t want to tell the two, believing that if you didn’t talk about it then it wasn’t real. But it was and you couldn’t hide from it.

Isaiah and Finn found out when they’d come home from a meeting to find you crying in the kitchen.

You hadn’t expected for them to be home so soon and didn’t hear the noise that came from the front door as they entered.

The two exchanged glanced in the kitchen doorway, unsure how to approach you.

Isaiah made the first move, coming up behind you and rubbing your back. “Hey, what’s wrong, darling?” The question only made you cry harder as you didn’t know how to tell him.

Sharing a look, your boyfriends knew there was nothing they could do but let you calm down on your own.

Finn decided to put a pot of water on, a good cup of tea was what you all need, while Isaiah sank into the seat next to you.

After ten minutes went by, the tears slowed and your breathing slowly became even. By that time, Finn placed a cup of tea in front of you and Isaiah before sitting on the other side of you with a cup of his own.

“You want to tell us what’s wrong?” Finn asked softly.

Sucking in a breath, you could no longer avoid the answer. “I’m pregnant.”

The words were barely a whisper, but the two heard you clearly.

You weren’t sure how you expected them to react, but you thought that they weren’t ready for a child, especially if the child’s father would be a mystery. Their lips turned up in wide smiles, squashing any idea you had on how they would react.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Isaiah questioned, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze.

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Didn’t think there was a place for a baby in our relationship.”

“There will always be room,” he assured you. “Always.”

Once the boys knew you were pregnant, they were extra protective of you.

Anything you needed, anything at all, they made sure to get.

During this time, the two also learned to cook.

They could cook before and were experts at making burnt meals. But their pregnant girlfriend was not going to eat burnt meals. Not on their watch.

The two would also call Polly any time you were in pain.

Even if it was super small and normal, they would ring her.

There came a point where Polly wanted to disconnect her line but knew that if something were actually wrong she would be more help than anyone else.

Ada often came to visit you when you’d be home alone.

Over tea, the two of you would laugh about her family and your boyfriends. You loved her visits because this meant you could ask her what to expect as you were insanely nervous.

You had no clue how to raise a child and any help you get, you would take.

When you did go into labor, Finn’s family was over, talking about a business deal that would take place in London.

You were in the parlor with Ada and Polly, both couldn’t care less about the business Tommy was discussing. Polly thought it wasn’t worth the money they’d be putting in but her nephews didn’t care.

“Have you found any houses you like?” Polly asked, referring to the many houses the boys had showed you.

You shook your head. You wanted to get out of the city, but none of the houses you’d seen caught your eye. “Not yet.”

“If the business in London is profitable, London may be an option,” Isaiah remarked, entering the room, walking straight to the liquor cabinet.

“Yes, because Alfie Solomons won’t stab us in the back again,” Polly scuffed, earning snickers from Ada and you.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” you smiled, watching him pour himself a drink. “We haven’t seen all the homes in Birmingham.” You were about to laugh along with the other women in the room, but stopped yourself when you felt something wet pool beneath you.

Isaiah quickly caught on that something was wrong when he saw you freeze. Setting his drink down, he came and knelt in front of you. “Are you alright?” He placed a hand on your knee, waiting for your answer.

As much as you wanted to nod, brush off his concern, and tell Isaiah to go back to the kitchen, you couldn’t form any words as pain washed over you.

Polly jumped to her feet and waited for, what she knew was a contraction, to pass. When it did, she said, “Alright, let’s get you to your room.”

You nodded as Isaiah helped you to your feet, but before he could led you to your room, Ada stepped in and led you around the sofa.

“Polly, come one!” Isaiah complained when the older woman stood in front of him. The noise caused Finn to peak his head in.

“What’s going on?”

“Y/n is in labor,” his aunt answered. When her nephew went to open his month, she raised her hand. “And you two are going stay out here and out of my way. I don’t need this to be made any harder with you two getting in the way.” With that, she turned on her heels and went to where Ada was helping you.

Finn and Isaiah went back into the kitchen and did nothing but sulk. They were nervous and wanted nothing more than to be by your side but they knew Polly was right. There would be nothing they could do to help and they would only be in the way.

So, for three hours, they sat in the kitchen, barley listening to anything that was said. John tried to make jokes, but they fell on deaf ears, and Tommy tried to talk business, but no one was interested.

So, they all just waited.

Finally, Polly walked into the kitchen and beckoned for the boys to follow her.

Entering your shared bedroom, the two were in awe at the sight in front of them.

Hair covered in sweat, you laid against the bed frame with a small bundle in your arms. Raising you gaze from your baby, you smiled at the two men that stood in the doorway. “Come here,” you patted the open space next to you.

Finn stepped forward first, gently sinking into the mattress next to you. Moving the blanket to get a better look, a pair of blue eyes looked up at him. “Oh my god.”

You grabbed his pointer finger and guided it into the baby’s hand as Isaiah came to sit on the other side of you.

“It’s a boy,” told them, leaning against Isaiah. “Our baby boy.”

*~~*~~*

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