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ao3-sucks · 4 years

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An Archive of Someone’s Own: my experiences being groomed in fandom circles on AO3

TW: Childhood sexual abuse, grooming, mentions of incest and rape.

I used to be a big writer of fanfiction. It was the logical choice for me. I loved to write and create bold and immersive worlds, and I craved an audience who would enjoy my work as much as I did. Since my writing wasn’t actually good, I needed a community of other amateurs who wouldn’t mind that, and by tweaking my characters and settings into ones from canonical media, I got the audience I so craved.

I started writing fanfiction online when I was 14, posting initially on FanFiction.net and then moving to AO3 a few months later. As I got back into writing original fiction towards the end of high school, I lost interest in this community, and it’s been a long time since I posted anything much on AO3.

I’ve always struggled with the fact I display a lot of symptoms of CSA, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why. Throughout my teen years, I refused to get changed or bathe when anyone was even vaguely nearby, constantly paranoid about being spied on; I developed a severe touch phobia, and would have frequent panic attacks from something as small as brushing arms with a passerby; I resolutely identified as asexual and refused to get into anything resembling a relationship with others because the very concept disgusted and repulsed me.

Weird, considering I had grown up pretty normal and all of these symptoms had started around my early teens. It was only when I told my friends about my friendship with a 30 year old I had met online that the pieces started falling into place for me.

Child grooming is usually discussed in the context of one adult going out of their way to befriend a child with the goal of lowering their resistance to sexual abuse, through normalisation and friendliness. I’d like to talk about how that worked on the fanfiction website AO3. Since it’s an open website and most communication takes place between anonymous users or accounts in the comments section of a work, there is very little delineation between spaces for adults to discuss whatever dark topics they like and spaces for kids to do the same.

This frequently leads to pretty inappropriate conversations between people of widely varying ages and life experiences, which is how I ended up talking sex as a fourteen year old with people ranging from a couple of years older than me, who were generally okay, to more than twice my age. The 30 year old in question listed on her profile how many pedophilic ships she loved, and she knew my age but pushed me to keep discussing sexual topics with her. Sounds like a red flag, yeah? Well. I was 14, and very stupid.

This 30 year old woman, who I will call Aku (because it’s similar to her screen name and because it’s funny to name her after the bad guy from Samurai Jack) would start conversations with me whenever I posted anything to AO3 and would refuse to take no for an answer when I tried to back out of conversations with her, and since these conversations were public and occurring within comments, I didn’t want to be rude to her since this was taking place on content I was trying to promote.

I told her my age multiple times and she would either pretend she forgot from last time (saying her memory is super bad) or continue as though it was just trivia about me and not a sign she shouldn’t have been pushing me. My primary objection to what she would say to me (since most of it was just her being annoying) was her insistence on sexualising everything I wrote, and her determination to push me into writing pornographic content, which I eventually gave in to.

Yes, she was a terrible person. She emailed me using her personal email address, so I know her full name and place of residence, because she’s an idiot. These emails also contain sexually explicit materials. Nothing much ever happened between us except for these very creepy interactions and the fact we remained online friends for a few years. But here’s the thing: she wasn’t the only person pushing me into creating sexual content. Lots of people would comment on my writing demanding that I show explicit sexual content when I really didn’t want to.

After a while it felt like I couldn’t write a longer, romantic fanfiction without including explicit sexual content. Like my work wasn’t valid without it. Other, more popular writers were usually sexual in their content, and I wanted to be like them and bring in the views, right? So, when I look at my back catalog of works, I can see how my content moved from completely non-sexual to featuring sexual content over time, and the views usually came with. In this way, I was in an environment that was encouraging me on many levels to sexualise my own work, which impacted the way I thought about my creative process.

Here’s another example I remember. When I was a young sprout, I remember reading down someone’s list of fanfiction recommendations and seeing a work called Hug Therapy, which I promptly read. While the work is marked as explicit and containing the Loki/Thor pairing, the use of relationship and rating tags on AO3 is so poorly regulated that it didn’t really mean anything to me to see either of those. People tag hardcore material as non-explicit and tag friendships as relationships, because there’s no motivation to tag properly. Plus, someone I followed here on Tumblr had recommended it to me.

Now, you wouldn’t know from the listing, but while this piece starts out as comedy, it turns out in the end to include rape, incest, and BDSM in very explicit terms. The fact it was tagged as being explicit didn’t slow me down, because the liberal use of these tags could mean that an explicit tag was just there because sexual content was implied or mentioned, which I thought would be the case based on the rest of the listing. Out of curiosity, I recently tried to report this work to the moderators for containing no warnings about incest or rape, and I got this in response:

“Selecting “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings” satisfies a creator’s obligation under the warnings policy. Users who wish to avoid specific elements entirely should not access fanworks marked with “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings”. Our Terms of Service note: “You understand that using the Archive may expose you to material that is offensive, triggering, erroneous, sexually explicit, indecent, blasphemous, objectionable, grammatically incorrect, or badly spelled. ….. This decision is in accordance with our policy of maximum inclusiveness; we have therefore closed this case and will not be investigating further.”

Which, yeah, I guess. The frustration comes from how ‘Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings’ is an extremely commonly used tag, and most things that it’s used on are totally harmless.

This fanfiction, which I was recommended by a friend, is hugely popular, in the top 60 most read fanfictions in the entire fandom. You wanna hear the kicker? The author, Astolat, is one of the founders of AO3. They’re not just some random author who isn’t following the rules. They’re a creator of the whole website, and they made the rules. This is pretty telling about how seriously the website actually takes protecting their users.

My final example I want to give is one of fetish content. People in fetish communities generally (not always) say that fetishes are probably something one should work up to after the onset of sexual activity, especially potentially harmful stuff like BDSM. In the circles I was running in, if you weren’t sporting a fetish or two (no matter your age) you were a boring bitch.

Maybe this isn’t true of everywhere in the fanfiction community, but I used to feel that bizarre pressure until I got out. Bear in mind that my main time in this community was from ages 14 to 17. I never made my age a secret, either. I told people outright I was that age, I was in high school, I was playing hockey and studying The Great Gatsby when I wasn’t online.

Since I was in the Avengers fandom and I liked Loki and the Asgardians, I was frequently exposed to incestuous content between Loki and Thor, and a lot of it came out of nowhere or was poorly tagged. This was considered the norm, and while I at first felt completely horrified and repulsed, within a year or two I no longer gave a shit. It’s only in the last few years as I’ve begun to unpack everything that I’ve started to get that strong revulsion reaction to incestuous content.

In the circles I was in, it was relentlessly normal. Normal to the point that people who disliked it were usually shouted down. Even to this day, debate rages on in fandom spaces about whether or not content like this normalises this kind of abuse. In my own personal experience, which I don’t usually like to talk about, it absolutely does.

In real life, this normalisation started to have serious consequences for my mental health and interpersonal relationships. In fanfiction, any occasion when you are alone with someone could become sexual, any familial relationship is possibly sexual, and it doesn’t matter if you like it or not. I became incredibly anxious around male family members for fear of being sexually assaulted, and my OCD, which I had been developing since I was a child, turned from thoughts of physical violence to thoughts of graphically sexually assaulted by anyone and everyone around me.

My fear of being touched got to the point where I would have panic attacks if anyone came anywhere close to touching me. I quit sports, fucked up my romantic relationships, and didn’t hug anyone, not even members of my family, for years. All the while, I had bought my first laptop and was consuming more fanfiction than ever before. I struggled with my sexuality growing up, as I am bisexual, and while fanfiction provided LGBT content to help me, the content was frequently so disturbing that I viewed any expression of sexuality as something evil and predatory.

The community on AO3, whether you like it or not, is often sexual, and provides no barriers between the casual user looking for content and extremely intense fetish material. It’s sometimes called the Pornhub of fanfiction, but considering the wide range of people who use it, it’s more like if you opened Youtube and saw niche hardcore fetish videos just on the front page, recommended and trending.

Sure, you have to click a little button to confirm you’re 18 before you can actually read a story, but the tags and descriptions of readily available works can be extremely explicit. Fanfiction also brings you into close contact with fellow readers and the author, and encourages you to become a content creator, which in some ways makes it more dangerous.

I was affected much more strongly by what I saw than most people would be, because I was already treading shaky ground. But I’m also not the only person out there who has been hurt in this way. Most of my friends who grew up in fandom can report the impact that fanfiction culture had on them. One of my friends from high school knew a panoply of porn terms at age 14 or so due to reading fanfiction, and another of my other friends at high school almost exclusively read rape porn because it was her favourite. I didn’t have friends who watched porn; I had friends who read fanfiction. These are just as troubling to me as any other accounts of young people consuming visual porn from a very early age.

It’s frequently cited that fanfiction gives minority groups the opportunity for creative outlet. It was a great place for me to cut my teeth as a content creator, and a source of acceptance and kindness when times were tough. Fanfiction communities have historically been the domain of women and minorities, and create a space for these people to tell their own stories.

It’s largely because of this that fanfiction communities fear censorship and strict moderation, as they have been attacked in the past on homophobic or misogynistic grounds, resulting in mass deletions of works or the shutdown of websites. But there must be some middle ground between total censorship and the kind of free rein that puts vulnerable people in danger, and I strongly encourage the board of AO3 to seek this middle ground out.

But it’s the community itself that needs to shape up; AO3 is, after all, a community-led website built by fans for fans, so the fact that this website has such issues is a reflection of the issues that run deeply within the people who created it. Aku didn’t talk to me with the intention of doing me harm, or so I believe at this time, and she didn’t pursue me as a lone wolf or in isolation.

She was simply a particularly brazen member of a community that was used to having inappropriate conversations with young people and sexualising everything they did. Even people my own age were jokingly pushing me into discussing and consuming extremely sexual content. It was just normal. That’s what I want to say here. Inside the world of fandom on AO3, the grooming of children with sexual content is normal. And that’s scary.

- Mod Daft

#mod daft post #ao3 discourse #fandom wank #fanfiction discourse #fanfiction wank #csa//#rape//#grooming//#incest//

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lacrow · 4 years

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SxF Collaboration Story (Part II)

@sxfobsessed- Annnd it’s done

@nagy-bari - Hope it lives up to the hype

@nonokoko13- I went easier on Franky for you lol

Title: Cabernet Makes Her Clothes Fall Off

Rating: T

Part I: tumblr, ao3

Part II: ao3

Updated Objective(s): host a dinner party for friends and acquaintances, maintain a professional relationship with Mrs. Forger, set a reminder to do the laundry Reporting Status: mission failure, inconclusive, no idea

ADDENDUM 5 [NIGHTFALL]:

You're not seriously considering this Millie woman's proposal, are you? Do you think she might be an enemy agent trying to sabotage Operation Strix? Do you want my assistance in dealing with her?

ADDENDUM 6 [TWILIGHT]

Of course not. She's Yor's co-worker and likes to give her a hard time. It was just harmless party-talk, nothing more.

ADDENDUM 7 [HANDLER]:

Noted, although I'd have to side with Millie on this one and agree that it would indeed be very adorable.

ADDENDUM 8 [NIGHTFALL]:

I fail to see how that has any relevance to what we're discussing.

ADDENDUM 9 [HANDLER]

I'm your boss. Babies are cute. End of discussion.

Part II

The clock ticked. Time passed, as did worries about Yor.

All according to plan. Loid was fairly good at deflecting and keeping the party occupied, even as he himself started to become concerned with how long Yor was taking in the shower. The sound of running water had long since ceased, and he kept secretly eying the door in anticipation to see it open. Loid stood off to the side as everyone else sat around the coffee table. Food had long since been eaten. Wine flowed, and they were firmly at the point in the party where multiple conversations coalesced into a singular, alcohol-fueled mess. Admittedly, it was fun to watch them. Loid smirked; aside from the wine incident, the rest of Yor's party was going rather smoothly.

Camilla gave Franky crap for his earlier display, by all accounts standing up for her self-proclaimed friend despite always acting like she couldn't care less. Millie chimed in as well, though more for the love of chaos than actually agreeing with Camilla. Sharon stayed completely out of it, and instead sat next to Dominic and Yuri as the two got into a loud debate about the results of a recent sports event. She offered her absent husband's two cents on the matter, which only reignited their fervent opinions. The three of them became lost in discussion, as did the others.

Loid stood. He watched. He waited. Then, out of nowhere, a voice called out to him from beyond the bathroom door.

"...Um, Loid? Could...you please come in here for a moment?"

It wasn't loud. If anything, Yor's voice was soft as a whisper, and yet somehow the entire party heard it. That of course included Loid who, as all eyes turned towards him, suddenly found himself frozen in a mild panic. His eyes shot wide open. She wanted him to come into the bathroom? While she showered? But the water wasn't running? It hadn't been for a while, actually...had she just been standing there the whole time? Loid's lungs emptied; he suddenly realized she'd went straight to the bathroom and hadn't bothered to gather any clothes.

Yor was stranded in the bathroom. Nothing else would explain why she'd ask him to come in while she was...well...

Focus, Twilight. This wasn't a big deal...or at least he had to pretend like it wasn't, anyway.

"C-coming, Yor!" Loid answered back. He smiled to his guests politely before taking off quickly towards the bathroom.

He tried his best to avoid interested stares and raised eyebrows, though there was no escaping Yuri's own loud, public dilemma as he practically died knowing Loid was about to see his sister naked (he wasn't). Without hesitating, Loid ducked into the bathroom with nary a sound. The door opened, then closed, and before he knew it he was standing in the remnants of Yor's shower; a light mist lingered, though it was by no means enough to veil her from him. Thankfully, their shower curtain was thick and colored solid. He could see nothing.

Trembling fingers clutched the side of it, as if Yor were hanging on for dear life. "...Loid! We've got a big problem!"

"I know, you didn't grab any clothes," he nodded. Loid averted his eyes despite not being able to see her. Red dusted his face. "I'll get you some."

"N-no...it's worse than that," Yor revealed after a moment of silence. Loid could practically hear her shudder. "I was so preoccupied with the party, I forgot to do laundry...!"

Loid paused. The cogs in his head turned slowly, as if the moisture in the room was sapping his ability to think properly. "So...what? You're telling me-?"

"-I don't have any clothes!" He'd never heard her voice that shrill before. She'd practically squealed. "Nothing!"

"Nothing?" Loid repeated back to her; he found that hard to believe, and yet the curtain shook anxiously as Yor confirmed. "Not even some PJ's?"

"I can't go out there in a nightgown, Loid!" Her voice was high-pitched again. "Besides, I told you, everything's filthy! Today was supposed to be laundry day!"

Loid scratched the back of his head. Now that he thought about it, pajamas in front of her coworkers probably wouldn't go over well, anyway. "Alright, well...I'll just think of something else, then?"

There came a panicked sigh behind the shower curtain. It was followed by the sound of a body sliding against tile until finally landing in porcelain. Water splashed as Yor sat hunched over in the tub, legs curled up into a depressed ball so as to take up as little space as possible. Loid had no way of seeing any of this, but Yor made it so obvious that there was nothing else it could be. He couldn't help but to frown. His usual list of reassuring words and phrases didn't seem like it would help much at the moment. He stood there, silent.

This was supposed to be her party. He remembered when she first told him about it; Yor came home that day a nervous wreck, convinced he would be cross with her. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, she said. She just wanted them to look like an actual married couple so no one would get suspicious. Initial hesitance aside, Loid played along; not necessarily because he thought they needed to host a party in order to convince everyone they were married, since they'd done a good job of doing so up until then, but because it was something Yor had come up with on her own. She was always following his lead (admittedly because he asked her to most of the time), and this was the first time she'd taken things into her own hands.

For the most part, it had all paid off, too. Loid briefly turned his attention back to the party outside. Their guests had resumed conversation once more, and if there was anyone who wasn't having a good time (aside from Franky) they were drowned out by those that were. Maybe Yor couldn't see that at the moment, but as her husband it was his job to make sure she did.

"I'll loan you some clothes," Loid spoke up. "I've got a button-up and some shorts you can wear in the meantime."

Silence. Loid waited for a response, which he most certainly got after Yor had time to process what he'd just said. "W-what?!"

"It's either that or a dirty nightgown," he reasoned. A distressed groan came from behind the curtain, and Loid nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Fine..." Yor relented. Her feet scraped the tub as she pulled her legs more in defeat. "...Mine as well try and ruin this party as spectacularly as possible..."

Loid smiled sympathetically. He gave her a second before speaking again. "For what it's worth, I'm enjoying myself. And I know for a fact that everyone else is, too."

There came no response, at least not with words. Maybe it was because they'd lived together for so long or because Yor was just really easy to read; regardless, Loid could tell her mood had improved somewhat at his reassurance. He informed her he'd be back in a minute, and promptly left to go fetch her some clothes. The sound of the door closing signaled to Yor that it was finally okay to breathe again. She'd held it when he admitted to having a good time, though for what reason she couldn't say. It mostly had to do with the fact that Loid had given her some form of approval. That, and everyone was having a good time despite all the setbacks. Like the wine, and...the...?

...Really, what other setbacks were there?

The clothes, of course, but other than that...what exactly made this party a disaster again? Yor thought about it real hard for a moment. Why was she stressed out to begin with? This whole thing was just supposed to be a cover for her and Loid, at least originally. It wasn't meant to impress anyone. It wasn't suppose to prove to anyone anything, save that they were an actual (fake) couple. The only thing she set out to achieve she did, so...what was all the fuss about? Her and Loid were married. Everyone knew that. No one questioned it. So...mission accomplished, right?

The fact that everyone was having a good time made her smile, though it was technically just icing on the cake. A bonus. If anything, the only person that Yor really wanted to enjoy the night was the same person who made it all possible in the first place. The food. The drinks. The pleasant conversation. Loid took care of it all, and as the door opened again upon his return Yor's face became red at the thought of him cutting loose for a change. No one deserved it more than her husband. As a change of clothes were draped over the side of the shower curtain rail, Yor affirmed to herself that she'd get dressed as quickly as possible. Go outside. Get back to the party. Continue to be a good host, and finish the night off strong. For Loid's sake.

"Let me know if you need anything else," he offered from the other side. "I'll be waiting just outside the door."

"I will," Yor answered back. She smiled, even though Loid couldn't see it. The door closed behind him as he left, and she soon rose to her feet with newly-found confidence.

/*\

"Yor forgot her clothes?" Dominic asked with a chuckle. He approached with a hand in one pocket while the other carried a glass.

"Sort of," Loid smiled hesitantly. He stood dutifully next to the bathroom door. "There was a bit of a mix-up with the laundry. We had to...improvise."

Dominic took a sip of wine before nodding. "Happened to Camilla once. Forgot to drop her clothes off at the cleaners. She had to walk around in nothing but one of my sweaters all day."

There came a loud whoop from Millie, and Camilla immediately lost it next to her. Clearly gassed, Dominic offered his girlfriend a giant grin as she marched over to rip into him. Sharon also had something to say, and soon the apartment erupted in a chorus of words. Loid was thankful for it; the heat was off him and Yor for the moment. It couldn't have come at a better time, either. As Camilla dragged Dominic back towards the others so she could publicly reprimand him, the bathroom door suddenly creaked open. Loid looked over right as his wife emerged. Mist rolled out behind her.

"...So, how do I look?" she asked while turning towards him. Yor held her arms out a little to show off her outfit.

She got no reply from Loid. He just stood there and stayed completely silent. He scanned her, up, down, then up again.

Yor's hair was down. She was smart and hadn't washed it, though it was still a little damp at the ends. Her long, raven locks draped over her shoulders, and they contrasted sharply with the white button-up she wore. Loid was several sizes larger than Yor and his shirt left her a lot of room, save of course for the chest area...that part she had no trouble filling in. She also rolled her sleeves up a little in order to make it look less big, though there was nothing Yor could do to make it any higher. His shorts almost disappeared completely underneath it, and the only reason they didn't was because they too were oversized. Yor was practically smothered in his clothes, though with that said...she wore it well.

Yor waited, but the longer Loid say nothing the redder her face became. She flinched. "S-should I put on something else? Is it bad?"

"N-no!" Loid shook himself out of it. He felt his face grow hot, and he coughed to hide it. "It looks fine. It'll get you through the party, at least."

Yor stepped back. She held an arm across her chest, something she tended to do whenever she was flustered. "Really?"

"Yeah." That's all he would say. Loid wouldn't look at her. If his intent was to put her at ease, for once he wasn't doing a very good job of it.

Loid motioned for her to go on ahead. She hesitated, and only did so when he finally spared her a glance. A tremulous smirk twitched across his face, and the sight of it only reaffirmed Yor's fears; this whole thing was a bad idea. It would have been better to just disappear into her room for the rest of the night, though Yor had already told herself she'd see things through till the end. With a sigh of uncertainty, she steeled herself as best she could and walked into the living room with Loid right behind her. The moment of truth was upon her.

She emerged. Yuri was the first to notice. He happened to be facing her direction when she arrived, and whatever word was on the tip of his tongue mid-conversation quickly became lost at the sight of his sister. His very being stopped in time; mouth agape, he stared emotionless as Sharon continued to talk in his ear about something unimportant. Yor, meanwhile, flinched at her brother's obvious stare. She put her arm across her chest again, as if that would somehow spare her from further embarrassment. Both Briars held their breath.

Yuri looked at Loid. Loid raised a brow. Yuri then looked at Franky. Still emotionless, his eyes zeroed in. "I'm gonna fucking kill him."

Franky didn't notice there was murder aimed towards him until Yuri suddenly got up from the couch and tried to pounce the half-pint from across the room. He yelped in terror while at the same time Dominic ran interference once more. Yor protested angrily as her brother fought to kill one of their other guests, though Loid wouldn't be bothered to so much as shrug at the display. As far as he was concerned, whatever pummeling Franky got that night was warranted. Besides, he'd stop things if they got out of hand...probably.

While the boys were busy being savages, Millie turned her attention to Yor. "Ooh! Look at you!"

Yor's lips squiggled. She held her cheeks. "Please don't say anything, Millie...I didn't have anything else to wear..."

"But you look good!" her coworker giggled, causing Yor's to eyes widen. "You should wear your husband's clothes more often!"

Millie's comment incited another ruckus from Yuri. The youngest Briar sibling spun around and gaped incredulously. "You take that back right now!"

"Oh, come off it, Yuri," Sharon added. Yuri huffed in exasperation. "Your sister's been married for a year. What are you gonna do when they finally have a kid together?"

Millie's face lit up. "A babyyy~! Maybe a little brother for Anya? Could you imagine how adorable a little Loid would be running around? That's it, you two need to get to work on that, pronto!"

Loid closed his eyes. It was the only thing he could do to keep his composure, even as his wife's entire body turned beet red next to him. Yuri's did, too, but for obviously different reasons. Yor's brother started to mount another argument, though was promptly cut off by Camilla from the other end of the table. She rolled her eyes and took up her wine glass before scoffing.

"Can we please not talk about the Forgers' bedroom affairs?" Camilla shook her head. The thought alone was enough to give her heartburn. "I'd really appreciate it."

"Seconded!" Franky chimed in. He figured agreeing with Camilla would help stop Yuri from killing him, seeing as how they were both on the same page.

It ended up working up well enough, surprisingly. Yuri narrowed his eyes, and after a moment he finally relented. "Right, yes. Thank you!"

Conversation erupted once more. Dominic commented off from the side, though was drowned out by his girlfriend as she again told him to drop the subject. Millie and Sharon made snappy comments to one another, mostly at Yuri's expense, and the latter suddenly found himself trying to justify his actions to them. Franky meanwhile stood off to the side and snickered at his counterparts, finding their small arguments to be far more entertaining when they didn't involve him. And away from it all were Yor and Loid. The latter stood behind his wife as she took up on the love seat while he leaned against it. They remained quiet as their guests carried on without them, and for a moment they simply watched.

Loid looked down at his wife. She was busy paying attention to Yuri and the others and didn't sense his staring, at least not at first. He couldn't stop himself, even as a small voice in the back of his brain told him to cut it out. There was nothing to look at it. It was just Yor...wearing his clothes. There wasn't anything inappropriate about that, per say. Plus it wouldn't have been the first time one of his partners thought to don a shirt of his, although that was always with women he'd gotten close with for the sake of past missions.

Loid supposed Yor also fit into that category, but...clearly not in the same way. He shifted wearily at the realization that his so-called wife, the one woman it would make sense to become intimate with for appearances sake, was the only one of his partners that he'd never, well, done it with. The thought alone made him flinch, even more so when Yor caught on to his staring. He looked away the moment her head titled backwards to look up at him, and he tried his best to play it off. Loid knew such an attempt would prove futile, though; Yor was hard spy on.

She was much more obvious with her staring than her husband. Yor reined in some loose strands of hair as she rested her head against the back of the chair. Red tickled her face, as it always did, and she tried her best to hide it. Loid would know anyway; he could always read her like an open-book, or so she thought at least. Even so, Yor pretended like she was stretching when his eyes glanced down at her for a fraction of a second. An earnest attempt to hide her thinly veiled gaze, or at least it would have been if she didn't melt beneath him.

They were hopeless. Such was the thinking of Franky as he watched in secret from afar. At that point he'd broken Loid's rule and had dipped into the wine, though it wasn't like Twilight was paying any attention. He was too busy acting like a teenage boy, and the sight was enough to make the scruffy man shake his head. From his secluded spot, Franky watched his friend play tag with Yor; the moment one looked away, the other would look back a second later. Everyone else was too tipsy or involved in conversation to notice, but Franky picked up on it no problem. He knew what to look for and even then it wasn't hard to figure out. He'd known Twilight for years. He knew how he operated. Worked. Thought.

The idiot wasn't taking his own advice. All these years he'd gone on about not getting attached to people, and yet here he was flirting with his wife.

Was it innocent? Maybe. Were there feelings behind it? Franky hoped not, at least for Twilight's sake. He liked Yor; she kept Twilight on his toes and was much more pleasant to talk to than him. If it were a different time, in a different place, Franky would have shaken his buddy and told him to marry her for real a long time ago. But this was Ostania. She was an Ostanian citizen, and they were from Westalis. Such a relationship would never work, not even taking into account that...well, relationships always ended badly for people with jobs like theirs. They just never worked.

Franky frowned. He took a sip of wine and kept watching the Forgers. Even taking into account everything he'd just said, all the things he knew, and every justified fear he had about this whole thing...even Franky had to admit they seemed happy. Go figure. Grumpy ol' Twilight, venom-tongued and no-nonsense, and by all accounts a downright asshole at his worst, was softer than fresh-baked cookies whenever Yor was around. Not all the time, but even those rare moments when he genuinely let his guard down were always because of her. His fake wife. Fake mother to his child. The means to an end. By all accounts a huge mistake to develop feelings for, though Franky knew that was way out the window at this point.

He shook his head, yet still a grin etched into the informant's face. Twilight was hopeless; Franky's job was information gathering, not babysitting. Still, he supposed he'd hold his tongue in the meantime. Watch from afar, like he always did, and reel his buddy in if things ever went too far. Or...maybe not even then, Franky mused as Yor and Loid eventually caught each other staring and turned red from embarrassment. They both looked away and stopped their little game, both too shaken to continue.

Franky took another drink of wine and his grin got even bigger; knowing Loid, he'd be too hung up on Yor to remember to kick his ass later.

/*\

"Bye! Thank you for coming!" Yor waved off the last of the guests; Camilla and Dominic politely waved back as they walked down the hall. "See you on Monday!"

They couldn't leave fast enough. Once it was just her and Loid, Yor immediately darted back inside and closed the door behind her. She collapsed against it and breathed a huge sigh of relief. The sound of running water in the kitchen and lovely silence throughout the apartment signaled the end of the Forger party. By all accounts it had been a huge success; everyone, even her brother, voiced their approval before leaving. There was talk of getting together again at some point in the future and Yor agreed; at someone else's house, of course.

"Mission accomplished," Loid called out over the chorus of dishes.

Yor stayed against the wall for a moment and nodded. "No more parties for a while."

"Agreed," her husband sighed. They were exhausted, and had been even before Camilla and Dominic left.

Who knew hosting could be so tiring? Certainly not Yor; she figured with her athleticism and unique set of skills, such a small thing like running around their apartment for a few hours would be a piece of cake. If anything, it was the most draining thing she'd ever done before. Yor couldn't help but to admire Camilla for putting on such a wonderful party all those months ago, and vaguely she considered putting something together for her upon returning to work on Monday as a sort of late token of appreciation.

Such a thing would have to wait till tomorrow, though. Yor was pooped.

After catching her breath, she went to the living room and started to gather trash and dishes. Both she and Loid fell into a malaise as post-party brain wracked them both; they spaced out and went on auto-pilot of a little while. Neither said a word and simply went to work on their respective cleaning duties. Loid handled any leftovers, cleaned the kitchen, and rearranged the dining room table. Yor picked up and started to gather all the dirty laundry that she had inconveniently forgotten to do earlier in the day.

"You're doing laundry now?" Loid raised a brow as he spied her through the kitchen window. It was close to midnight.

Yor tilted her head. "Not that I particularly want to, but we don't have anything to sleep in...or at least I don't."

"Just wear my night-shirt," he replied tiredly. Yor immediately gaped at the suggestion, but Loid didn't care. He was done for the night.

Yor went to say something, but the words caught in her throat. Despite clearly not being comfortable with the thought, Yor had to admit Loid's offer sounded way better than staying up all night doing laundry. Besides, there was no point in cleaning her nightgown when she'd probably just pass out on the couch waiting for the dryer, anyway. Even then she'd still be wearing Loid's clothes, and at least if she wore his night-shirt then she could fall asleep in the comfort of her own bed. For once, she was too tired to be embarrassed.

"...Alright," Yor agreed. She still pinked, however; Yor was convinced this entire night was some test to see how many times she could blush.

The water stopped as Loid paused on the dishes. He dried himself off before walking past Yor on his way to fish out what few clothes he had left. She waited patiently, and a minute later he returned with the t-shirt in his hand. He handed it off to her, and she likewise went into her room to go get changed. A heavy yawn tugged at her lips as she left him alone with the after-party mess. Loid looked around him and his face fell flat; there was no way he was cleaning all this right now. He'd knock out the dishes, and the rest could wait till tomorrow.

The remainder of the plates and silverware were washed and put away. Everything else would be left, untouched, until the morning. Loid walked past it all and shuffled into his room, while at the same time Yor came out of hers to go brush her teeth. They missed each other; neither saw the other come or go, not until Loid got changed and he too went to go take care of his nightly affairs. They crossed paths once he entered the bathroom to wash up, and it was at that point Yor nearly spit out her toothpaste.

She stopped. In the mirror beside her stood her husband; tall, tired and shirtless.

He didn't pay her even the slightest bit of attention. Loid's eyes were fixed entirely on his toothbrush, and even after he went to work cleaning out the lingering taste of wine from his tongue Loid still didn't seem to notice her next to him. She, on the other hand, noticed him. Yor's face was hot, frozen, and everything else in between. She dared not turn to look at him, and instead just stared through the bathroom mirror. He stared back, though his attention wasn't on her. It wasn't anywhere, really. Truly he was in his own little world.

The water ran. He rinsed his mouth, then leaned over to wash his face, and Yor looked down at the muscles on his back. Her toes curled.

She looked away when he popped back up. Loid dried off and quickly left her alone. With a tired good night, he waved behind him and suddenly Yor was left alone. Standing there breathless, her eyes lingered on the spot in the mirror where her husband had been standing. It was almost like he'd never been there to begin with; just a dream that had paid her a visit in the night. Maybe she was asleep? Yor pinched herself for a second and squinted. Nope, still awake. Yor looked down at herself and immediately became red again.

She was wearing the top half of Loid's sleep attire. Him, the bottom half.

She still had on his shorts from earlier (thankfully). His shirt fit more snug than his button-up, but still covered her down to her thighs. All things considering, it was quite comfy, though there was no getting used to this clothing situation no matter how hard she tried. Yor shook her head and sighed deeply; the sooner she went to bed and got up to do laundry, the less chances of her dying from a heart attack. Between Loid and everything else that had happened that night, Yor didn't think she could take any more surprises.

Teeth brushed. Face washed. Nature, answered. Yor took care of everything and turned off the lights behind her. Loid had long since retreated into his bedroom, and she quickly did the same. Yor hopped straight into bed and immediately lost herself in the cool feeling her pillow. She curled up nicely in her sheets and closed her eyes. Thoughts of the party were soon replaced with that of her family. Anya would be dropped off in the morning, likely early, so she needed to be up and ready at a decent time to receive her.

Loid would need help cleaning. Maybe if she got up before him, she could knock everything out before he awoke and surprise him. It was the least she could do after everything he'd done for her that night. She smiled as the lingering image of her husband and daughter became etched into her mind, and it wasn't long before she fell asleep peacefully to it.

Her family. A fake one, yet even still she was dearly fond of it.

/*\

Loid staggered into the living room as he scratched the back of his head. His alarm had failed to go off. Maybe the fact he'd knocked it off the nightstand in a half-wake stupor had something to do with it. He'd intended to wake up early and get a head start on all the cleaning, though supposed that option was off the table now; even more so when he realized that there wasn't anything dirty to clean. He blinked while scanning the living room and was surprised to find everything back in order as it should be. Yor must have gotten up before him.

As if on queue, his wife greeted him pleasantly as she crept up behind him. "Morning, Loid!"

"Good morning," he replied back. He turned around and found Yor with a basket of clothes in her arms. "Thank you for cleaning."

"Of course!" she beamed back. "I needed to get to work on laundry, anyway. Anya will be home any minute and I want to make sure she has clean clothes."

Loid nodded. He'd nearly forgotten about their daughter. Neither he nor the Blackbells had agreed on a time frame of when to drop her off, but seeing as how it was a Sunday and close to noon Loid assumed it would be soon. He didn't know if they'd fed her or not, though even if they had he and Yor still needed to eat. Loid informed his wife he'd get to work on breakfast and she nodded. They both went to work on their respective chores and kept quiet for a time. Dutiful silence. A far cry from the chaos of last night. It was relaxing.

Eggs and sausage. Simple, quick, and if Anya wasn't hungry it could be fed to the dog. Speaking of, Loid glanced over and found Bond sitting attentively at the end of the kitchen. He was ready to carry out his sole duty as the Forger hound; should any stray food drop to the floor, it was his job to clean it up. Loid looked over his shoulder. His wife was nowhere to be found and, once he determined the coast was clear, he promptly flicked a chunk of sausage off the pan with his spatula. It fell, and Bond went straight to work. He waddled over and made the mess disappear in one gulp.

"Tell no one," Loid instructed.

Bond complied. He was good at keeping secrets.

Breakfast didn't take long to make. Loid barely finished by the time a knock came at the door. Most likely Anya. Yor called out to Loid and asked him if he could answer it. Seeing as how he was done cooking anyway, Loid turned off the burner and made his way to the door. He looked down as Bond followed beside him and very quickly he realized he wasn't decent. His shirt situation hadn't changed since last night. Loid failed to notice before, but even so his apathy had also carried over with him; he just flat out didn't care at the moment.

With a sigh and a shrug to himself he opened the door. In front of him stood his daughter, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and next to her were her friend Becky and who Loid assumed was the Blackbells' chauffeur. The two men nodded to one another and exchanged pleasantries, while at the same time the two little girls stirred at their knees.

"Papa! Where's your shirt!" Anya pointed up at him. It was less a question and more an incredulous statement; papa was always well-dressed.

"It's a long story, Anya," Loid shook his head. He promised to fill her in later before turning his attention to Becky. "Did you two have fun at your sleepover?"

Becky was silent. She stood stiff as a board and stared up at Mr. Forger. If he bothered to look hard enough, he could've seen the hearts in her eyes. "I-I-I...! Y-you-!"

"We really must be going, Ms. Blackbell," Becky's chauffeur informed her. "Your parents are both off for the first time in weeks and they wish to spend the day with you."

"B-but I don't wanna spend time with them! I wanna stay here!" Becky exclaimed. She continued to gape at Loid, even as her chauffeur started to drag her away. "Wait! Nooo-!"

Both Loid and Anya raised a brow as the little girl struggled in vain to break free. The latter had the unfortunate ability to read her friend's mind, and she wished nothing more than to scrub Becky's version of papa from her own. She could be weird sometimes. Loid found that out, too, though he had no way of knowing what his daughter's friend was thinking. He just waved politely as Becky and her chauffeur walked down the stairs and disappeared. The sounds of her struggling could still be heard as Loid and Anya retreated inside. Only the door closing behind them could silence it.

"Mama! I'm home!" Anya called out. She let her backpack fall to the floor next to her as Bond came up to lick her face.

Yor appeared around the corner immediately. She gaped ecstatically at her daughter's presence and ran up to hug her. Anya made the same face, though it quickly shifted when she realized what her mama was wearing. Her smile morphed into confusion as she felt Yor's arms wrap around her; she still hugged her mama back, but looked up at papa as she did.

"...Why is mama wearing your shirt?" Anya asked him pointedly. Loid immediately straightened.

Yor hugged her daughter tighter, if only to hide the sudden redness in her cheeks. "Um, I forgot to do laundry yesterday..."

"...So she borrowed my clothes," Loid finished for her. His eyes narrowed uncomfortably as Anya gave him an inquisitive look. "Nothing more."

Anya blinked. It was a reasonable answer, but somehow it seemed a difficult concept to wrap her head around. Anya didn't particularly know why it was a big deal, at least...not until she read her parents' minds. Unbeknownst to them, she got a crash course in almost everything that had happened last night. Franky. The wine. The clothes. Everything save for what happened before they both went to bed, as she didn't have enough time to gleam that off of them before Yor broke away. She smiled at her daughter, and Anya smiled back to cover her tracks.

Papa minus shirt, plus mama with shirt, equaled...something. She was pretty bad at math, but knew that equation amounted to some sort of change in her parents. That much was obvious, even to Anya. She looked up at them as they exchanged glances and smiles before separating once more; Yor to go finish turning over the laundry and Loid to start serving breakfast. She scrunched her face up and tried to mull over what exactly was going on, but ultimately was unable to as the smells of eggs and sausage wafted into her nostrils. It was time to eat.

She'd already had breakfast at Becky's, but...it was nearly noon. Second breakfast, she thought to herself in satisfaction. With a big smile she rushed over to the dinner table and took up a chair as Bond followed behind. He sat at her feet as Loid came into drop off a plate in front of her. She immediately gathered her knife and fork, though waited for mama to arrive as papa called out to her to come eat. He then took off to go find a shirt to put on in the meantime; even if it was the same one from last night, it was better than nothing, at least until Yor was done with laundry.

Speaking of, he walked past his wife on the way to his bedroom. They side-stepped one another, and spared each other a glance before walking away. Loid stopped at his door and looked over his shoulder to catch Yor right before she turned the corner.

She'd put her hair up in a ponytail, but it was her figure that caught his attention. It was painfully noticeable from behind. The house-sweater she usually wore always covered it up, but with her new outfit there was no hiding it. Loid stared as long legs walked away from him, and he was left reminded of the night before. When he left Yor in the bathroom and pretended not to notice before leaving for bed; the way his shirt hugged her chest, and teased the rest of her like some kind of cruel joke. It was all he could think about for the better half of the evening, and the sole reason why he passed out late and subsequently slept in. Then and now, as Yor's curves disappeared from sight, all Loid could do was remind himself of Operation Strix. His mission. The sole reason he was there in the first place.

He sighed. Long, steady, and deep.

Best to let her keep the clothes...just in case she ever forgot to do laundry again.

#spy x family #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #franky #yuri briar #becky blackbell #bond #camillia #dominic #sharon #millie #nightfall #handler

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